Nora said her goodbyes to Falion and Al’Hassan after another marathon bout of sex, letting them use her as she used them. She hoped one day to meet up with them again, but for now it was time for business. Her people were healed and rested, even Jordis occasionally sitting with the party and laughing. It would be some time before the young woman was back to normal, but Nora could see it coming to pass.

 

High Hrothgar was much as she remembered as she appeared just outside the monastery. As usual a heavy wind was blowing the swirling snow, making visibility all but nil. Nora shivered as much from the psychological feel of the cold as from the temperature itself. For a moment she considered teleporting away to warmer climes, coming back on another day.

 

I’ve got to face my fears, she thought, looking at the door at the top of the steps. And maybe I’ll get to meet this fifth Graybeard.

 

Sybille had done some research, and had discovered that Paarthunax was the name of a legendary dragon. The story had him playing both the good and evil roles. She had wondered why a Greybeard would take the name of a dragon, instead of just using his birth name like the other four. Some affectation she guessed, something she wouldn’t have expected from the humble monks. And why was he living alone at the top of the mountain? Wasn’t High Hrothgar isolated enough?

 

Nora forced herself to the door and pushed on the latch. Hearing it click, she pushed the heavy door open, sighing as the warm air inside hit her in the face. It was still colder than she liked, but the contrast was telling, and she quickly moved inside and pushed the door closed behind her.

 

“So, the Dragonborn deigns to visit us again,” said Master Arngeir, walking out of the shadows.

 

“I am sorry, Master Arngeir. There is so much need in Skyrim, so many fires to put out.”

 

“And if you are to stay on the path of wisdom you need to ignore some of those fires and concentrate on your own peace of mind.”

 

That’s not going to happen, thought Nora as she gave the Greybeard a frank look. She couldn’t just pass by those who needed her help so she could sit and gaze at her own navel.

 

“How did you get here? There was no horse, and we did not detect you walking up the path.”

 

Nora stared at the man while wondering what the powers of the Greybeards were, beside the voice that is. They just seemed to know things that they really shouldn’t. Not without some otherworldly senses.

 

“I teleported,” said Nora, watching as the eyes of Arngeir widened. “I am now the master of four schools of magic. Really five, though the last one isn’t official.”

 

“Blasphemy,” whispered Arngeir, shaking his head. “You play with things you don’t understand.”

 

“I’m sorry you disapprove. I need weapons against Alduin. Every weapon I can get my hands on. The power of the Thu’um is a mighty weapon, but so is magic. And I will avail myself of anything that can give me an advantage against that big bastard.”

 

“Have you ever thought that Alduin was not meant to be defeated?”

 

“I refuse to accept that, Master Arngeir. I am fighting to save this world and everyone in it. Why can’t you give me all the aid you can in this pursuit.” She steeled herself for what was to come next. “I’m looking for a shout that will pull Alduin from the sky. Dragonrend.”

 

“Who told you about that? Who have you been talking to?”

 

Nora could tell that she had hit a nerve with the old man. Probably the rivalry between them and the Blades for the attention of the Dragonborn. She tried for the noncommittal answer. “It was portrayed on Alduin’s wall at Skyhaven Temple.”

 

“Ah, the Blades. Meddling in things they barely understand. Trying to sway the Dragonborn to their way of violence. Would you let them control you?”

 

“No one controls me, Master Arngeir,” said Nora, her anger rising at having to deal with getting caught up in this crap between the two factions. “They don’t control me, and neither do you. I have a mission, and I intend to carry it through. Now, what can you tell me about this shout?”

 

“You will receive no further aid from us until you turn back to the path of wisdom, and away from that of violence. If the blades had their way all dragons would be exterminated. Is that what you want?”

 

Nora felt like that would be a good first step to cleaning up this world. As far as she could tell, there was no good that came from the monsters. All of them were savage killers, preying on the people of Skyrim, burning villages, taking out wagons, slaughtering livestock. When she had first arrived here Whiterun was on the verge of starvation since the farmers couldn’t work their fields without being attacked.

 

“Do you think that a good thing?” continued Arngeir, thrusting a finger at her face.

 

“I, don’t know. I don’t know dragons like you do, and the only conversations I have had with any of them was one consisting of threats and boasts about how they were going to kill me. You tell me how I’m supposed to form any good opinion of the creatures. And their leader wants to end this world.”

 

Nora stood there fixing the man with an angry stare, hands on her hips. She had thought the Greybeards were wise old men who would aid her in her quest to save the world. Instead she was finding them to be as fanatical as any cult she had ever run into on Earth. Right up there with the Children of Atom, though the Greybeards were more likely to leave the world alone.

 

“No. You will receive no more aid from us until you return to the path of wisdom. Until then you are not welcome here.”

 

“I will use the library to meditate to Kynareth,” she said slowly. “That you cannot deny me.”

 

“You would challenge us?” growled Arngeir, the Thu’um strong in his voice.

 

“I would,” said Nora, her own Thu’um sounding out as powerfully as the old man’s. Lightning played across her fingers, a reminder that she could call on powers he could not. “I am the Dragonborn, and that area is my connection to the Goddess who brought me here to save this world. You have no right to deny me.”

 

Arngeir opened his mouth to respond when a loud thunderous voice penetrated the monastery and interrupted. Arngeir listened for a moment, bowing his head, then looking Nora in the eyes.

 

“I have been intemperate,” said the old man, folding his hands over his chest. “Master Einarth has reminded me where my duty lies. It is not for me to make this decision. You must talk with Paarthurnax, at the top of the mountain.”

 

“Am I ready for that?”

 

“No, you are not. But the Blades have made it necessary for you to do so. We will teach you a shout to clear the way. Come with me to the courtyard.”

 

Nora followed the man, looking for the other Greybeards. She didn’t think they would strike at her. They seemed too pacifistic for that, but she hadn’t gone through so much to get to where she was by taking stupid chances.

 

The other three were waiting for her in the courtyard. It was cold as hell, as usual, and looking up through the arch that indicated the start of the path she saw that the constant storm was still raging. She again wondered if it was some form of magic, or if this mountain was just a magnet for that kind of weather.

 

It was even colder before the arch, the brazier adding little heat. What it produced was whisked away immediately. Arngeir looked down at the stone, stepped back, then gave a low rumbling shout that coalesced into a glowing rune.

 

“Lok,” whispered Nora, understanding that the word meant Sky. The second word formed, Vah, meaning Spring. Then Koor, the third and final word, Summer. Arngeir stepped back and his body glowed, the power flowing into Nora, unlocking the words for her use.

 

“This will be our last gift to you, Dragonborn,” said Arngeir, motioning toward the arch. “Use it wisely. And know that the path will be perilous and not to be taken lightly.”

 

“I understand,” said Nora, pulling the hood of her parka over her head, then putting on her mittens and adjusting them. She was in full winter gear now, what she used in the frozen wastes of the North. She hoped this would be no different, and would soon find out. The Dragonborn braced herself, then shouted. “Lok Vah Koor.”

 

The wind immediately dropped to nothing, the way clear, though the swirling snow was still apparent about fifty yards up the path. That path looked treacherous, ice everywhere, nothing to prevent a slip and fall over the edge. And the vista opened up was both breathtaking and terrifying. She could see all the way the Whiterun, over thirty miles. Not the clearest of views, but one that would have sold a lot of postcards back in the prewar United States.

 

I better get moving, she thought. She could stand up here and gawk all day, and get no closer to her goal. That is, if the winds didn’t pluck her from the path and toss her into the air. If still conscious she could always teleport away from the fall, but she couldn’t count on still having her wits about her, so best to just avoid it.

 

Nora hurried forward until she met the storm front that had been beyond the reach of her first shout. Another shout of clear skies and the way was clear for another fifty yards. She hurried forward, taking a second to look back and see that the storm had closed in behind her. Several more evolutions and she thought it time to test out Control Weather.

 

The Dragonborn called up the spell, feeling the swelling magicka within her. Moving her hands through the motions, she was caught off guard as the winds came back up around her, stronger than any hurricane she would have faced on Earth, the speed enhancing the freezing temperatures. She shouted out the words of the spell, making the final hand motions. The magicka went out, and if the winds decreased at all she had no indication of it. It actually cut into the exposed flesh of her face, and she was sure that it wouldn’t take more than a couple of seconds to take her life.

 

“Lok Vah Koor,” she shouted, and the winds dropped to nothing. She was left with a moment to wonder if Control Weather simply hadn’t worked, or if the storm had just been too powerful for it. Either way, she had risked much using it instead of the shout. Her temperature had dropped, she had wounds on her face, and the odds of her making it up the mountain had plummeted. Casting Close Wounds, then Bearskin, all the while walking forward, she stabilized herself. Coming to the edge of the clear area she shouted again, clearing out the next stage.

 

The swishing sound of Ice Wraiths came from ahead, followed by the long snaky forms that looked like skeletons made of pure cold. Nora hit one with a flame bolt, stopping it in its tracks. The next bolt shattered it, and the second got close enough to bite.

 

“Fuck,” she yelled as the sharp teeth tore through the arm of her parka and into the flesh underneath, penetrating shallowly through her armor. It was like a freezing fire had hit her, and she swung Dawnbreaker into the body of the wraith, shattering it in place.

 

Nora shouted again, then cast Close Wounds, hurrying forward. The cold was starting to get to her, and even her sooth spells were doing very little to take the edge off. Or they were actually doing a great deal, and without them she would have already fallen to the ground frozen.

 

The next thing to hit was a troll. The once fearsome beasts weren’t normally a challenge to the Dragonborn, but her frozen hands fumbled through the blow and the monstrously strong creature backhanded her into the cliff. She was lucky it hadn’t struck from the other side or she would have been hurtling over the other cliff. Pointing her left hand at the creature she let loose with a blast of pure fire, a simple spell, but the best she could manage at the moment. The troll cried out and fell back, and she followed, keeping it engulfed by her flames until it fell burning to the ice.

 

The wind closed in again and Nora shouted. Without the interruptions she was sure that she would have been okay. As it was she was barely making it. For a moment she wondered if this was what the Greybeards had intended. That was paranoia speaking, and Arngeir had warned her after all. I can’t fail now, she thought, shouting again and pushing ahead.

 

There was a clear area ahead, just over a slope, and the final spire of the mountain to the left. She stumbled forward, thinking of what she could do to warm up. There were no trees up here, no way to make a fire, and she had images of her dying up here after fighting through. She went over that last slope and suddenly her body warmed. There was magic at work here, but what kind, and from whom?

 

The giant white dragon rose into the air as it saw her, coming down directly to her front. Nora wasn’t sure if this was an enemy, but something within her was cautioning her not to attack. But it was a dragon, her natural enemy.

 

“Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah ... my mountain?”

 

Nora stared at the dragon in amazement. She felt no threat from the creature. It could kill her in an instant, but then she could do the same with it. A thrill was running up her spine, a combination of fear and wonder.

 

“You’re a dragon,” she blurted out.

 

The big white dragon laughed; a deep sound filled with humor. “I am as Akatosh made me, as he made you, wunduniik. Would you have me be otherwise?”

 

“I haven’t had any positive interactions with dragons,” she said, eyes narrowing for a moment. “But I’m happy to meet you, Paarthurnax.”

 

“There are formalities to be observed before we engage in conversation,” rumbled the big dragon. “As the elder, it falls on me to start.”

 

The big dragon turned toward the word wall that had sat silent to the right. It let out a fierce breath of fire, the heat making Nora sweat even though it was not directed toward her. A word glowed on the wall, and Nora hurried toward it. Another word of Fire Breath, the third, entered her mind.

 

“Now experience fire as a Dovah,” said the big dragon. It glowed much as the Greybeards had when they had imparted energy to her, and the word unlocked. “Now, show me that you are Dov. Shout fire at me, that I might taste your voice.”

 

“I have to warn you. I already know the other two words of this shout. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“Do not worry, Dovahkin,” said the laughing dragon.

 

“Okay.” Nora pulled in a breath, then breathed fire into the dragon.

 

“Yes,” said Parthurnaax in his rumbling voice. “The dragon blood runs strong in you, Dovahkin. It is good to greet another of the dragon blood as an equal.”

 

“You are a most unusual dragon,” said Nora, smiling, deciding that she liked this honorary Greybeard.

 

“So I have been told. But what brings you to my strunmah? My mountain?”

 

“I have an appointment to face Alduin,” said Nora in a rush of words. “And I’ll tell you truthfully, the prospect scares me half to death.”

 

“Then you show wisdom, Dovahkin. And I sense that you have faced many frightening situations in the past, on two worlds, and have overcome.”

 

“Who told you about Earth?”

 

“I am a dragon,” said the laughing creature. “I am attuned to time and space unlike most, and I can sense that you are out of your time, out of your space. Though you still have Akatosh within you.”

 

“And you know how that is possible?”

 

“No. I do not. The ways of the Gods are mysterious, and often incomprehensible to even the immortal Dov. I think even they are not sure of what drives their actions.”

 

I can see that, thought Nora, liking Parthurnaax even more. There was a wisdom about him, a gentleness, along with a sense of humor. She could tell he had been through much, and was determined to do as much good as he could while he was still around.

 

“I’ve come to learn Dragonrend. Something I assume you can teach me.”

 

“I cannot, Dovahkin.”

 

“But..”

 

“The shout you speak of was devised by men to strike at dragons. It is something the immortal Dov cannot even comprehend.”

 

“Then it’s useless. I have to face Aldiun without it.”

 

“And you would do that? You are mighty in magic, but Alduin is immune to much of what you know.”

 

Great. This just keeps getting better. “I would.”

 

“Then we must find a way for you to learn this shout.”

 

“How?”

 

“Do you know why I have chosen this spot to dwell? This is the spot where Alduin was cast adrift on the sands of time by the ancient Nords. And this was where he was destined to emerge. I knew where, but not when.”

 

“So you were here when he came back,” said Nora, eyes wide. “And there was nothing you could do about it?”

 

“Against the first born of Akatosh? Against a Dovah with part of Akatosh within him? No, Dovahkin. He would have destroyed me with ease and eaten my soul as well. So all I could do was hide and watch. And wait for another piece of Akatosh to appear, as was prophesized.”

 

“What piece of Akatosh?” asked Nora, still not getting it. “And what does that have to do with me?”

 

“When Alduin again walks Nirn, the counter must walk as well. Dovah, Dovahkin. You, Dovahkin, are that aspect of Akatosh. You have the God within you, which is what makes you capable of destroying Alduin.”

 

“But, I’m not from this planet. How is that possible?”

 

“I do not have the answer to that, Dovahkin. But remember, we are dealing with Gods. We are dealing with the first God, the God of time himself. If such is possible, then it is possible for him.”

 

“So I can’t lose?”

 

“No, Dovahkin. You can lose. And just as you are the only soul that can kill Alduin, he is the only soul that can truly destroy you. Or at least the piece of Akatosh within you. Your body can die, but the God energy within will go on, to be reborn again. Whether it will be reborn in time to do this world any good? Well, who can say? Perhaps this world was doomed from the start. Perhaps your attempt to save it merely hastens the end.”

 

“Bullshit,” said Nora in an angry growl. “I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that. My actions have to mean something other than some kind of dance to entertain Akatosh.”

 

“You have the spirit needed to defeat Alduin. So again, we must find a way to give you the means. For I, too, wish this world to go on. The next might be a better place, but it is not the place for me. Or you. So we must find a way to cast you back in time to learn the shout from those who created it. My friends, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, Felldir the Old, and Hakon One-Eye. The Nords have had many heroes since, but none greater.”

 

So they were talking some kind of time travel here. Nora could accept that. She had travelled through time to an alternate past through the efforts of a renegade Institute scientist. So why not in this world of magic.

 

“So how do I go back in time?”

 

“The place is here, where the time wound still exists. But to use it you will need an Elder Scroll.”

 

Nora had heard of the magical artifacts at the College. Said to exist outside of time and space, a piece of creation itself, they were immensely powerful. That the ancient Nord heroes used one was a testament to their courage and determination.

 

“And where would I obtain such a thing?”

 

“I do not know, Wunduniik. You know more of the world below. Surely you can gain the knowledge needed to obtain one.”

 

“The College,” said Nora, thinking of the knowledge that was there. “Someone at the College should know.”

 

“And that is where you need to go to get one,” said Paarthurnax, giving her a full toothed dragon smile. “When you have obtained one, come back here to gain access to the time wound.”

 

“And then?”

 

“And then we will see what we will see. Nothing is certain, Dovahkin. But if you are to succeed you must try.”

 

And try I will, thought Nora. The idea still frightened the shit out of her, but she wanted this world to go on, and there was no choice but to try.

 

“I need to go up there,” said Nora, looking at the peak that rose almost a thousand feet above the small plateau they stood on. “Kynareth demands it.”

 

“Then go. But take care, as the magic that allows you to be comfortable here is not in force there.”

 

Nora nodded and headed up the at first gentle slope, coming to the rock that she had to scramble up. It was cold, mind numbingly frigid, and the ice made her footing suspect the entire way up. She slipped a few times, her grip on the stones preventing several falls that were near things. At one point she found a glass sword that she attached to her pack. At another a black blade that radiated evil. That one she let be. There was enough evil in the world below without adding to it. The last hundred feet was almost sheer cliff, and she needed the pickax to help her up.

Her heart was in her throat most of the way up. Her hands were numb, her body shivering, and she barely avoided the fall that would have injured her badly, if she survived at all. With a final grasp of slick rock she was at the top, wondering what she was to do.

 

Touch the Sky, she thought. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but she could only think of one thing to do. Balancing herself on the narrow spear of rock she stood to her full height and reached up. She could feel her feet slipping as she extended fully. Something came over her, a power she knew came from Kynareth, the Sky Goddess. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she could feel the energy coursing through her. And then her feet slipped out from under her and she was falling out into space.

 

The words to the teleport spell left her frozen lips, and the world faded for an instant, to be replaced by the front steps of the monastery. She had done it, touched the sky, and received the reward. Shouting Unrelenting Force proved that she had gained power. With a last burst of energy she rushed into High Hrothgar, the heat of the interior like an oasis in the desert.

 

“Did you speak to Paarthurnax?” asked Arngeir, coming out of the shadows. “Did he teach you Dragonrend?”

 

“Yes, and no,” said Nora, wondering how these guys always seemed to come out of the shadows, like they lived in them. “Paarthurnax didn’t know the shout either. But he said I need an Elder Scroll to unlock the time wound and learn it from the heroes who crafted it. What’s so bad about that shout, anyway?”

 

“It was crafted by people living under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin and his Dragon Cult,” said the Greybeard. “It was an embodiment of all their hate and anger toward their overlords, and has no place in the way of the voice.”

 

Well, sometimes you need some hate and anger to fight an enemy, thought Nora. “Any idea on where I can get an Elder Scroll?”

 

“That is something we don’t meddle with,’ said Arngeir, shaking his head. “Even the Gods themselves hesitate to touch such a powerful artifact. Only the mages in Winterhold deal with such blasphemies.”

 

“Then that’s where I’m heading,” she told the man, noting his disapproving look. She realized that Arngeir was only tolerating her because his master wanted him to. “After I commune with Kynareth in the library.”

 

The College was much as it always was. A sanctuary of learning divorced from the politics of Skyrim. The Thalmor hadn’t replaced Ancano, yet, and hopefully never would. Given their efficiency they would send a replacement sooner rather than later. They needed an agent here to further their plans for Skyrim, after all.

 

Urag gro-Shub lorded it up behind his desk as always, turning a disapproving eye on anyone that might put his collection in disarray. “Can I help you. Master Nora?” asked the Orc, bowing his head.

 

“I need an Elder Scroll. Do you know where I can find one?”

“

Well, I don’t think you’re going to find one in the bathroom stall,” said the frowning Orc. “Just what in the name of Oblivion do you need an Elder Scroll for? Do you even know what kind of power you are dealing with?”

 

“I need an Elder Scroll so I can travel back in time and learn a shout that can pull Alduin out of the air,” she said slowly, enunciating each word.

 

“Well, damn. I guess you do know what kind of power you’re dealing with,” said the wide-eyed Orc. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you with getting one. But I might be able to point you in the right direction. Give me a week to research it, then come back to see me.”

 

“Okay.” Nora wished she could find out something now. Now was always better. But she had learned that the Orc was a man of his word. If he said a week, then most likely he would have what she needed in a week. Not an Elder Scroll, ready to be handed over to her. No, it would be information that told her where to go to get the Scroll. Or at least who she needed to talk to.

 

So she had a week, and she was tempted to go back to Morthal and spend the time with her two Redguard lovers. Only there were still injustices in the world that needed righting. So she sought out Tolfdir.

 

“Any fires in the area that need putting out?” she asked the Archmage.

 

“Well, there are rumors of a coven of necromancers operating out of a cave system near Keld-Nar, in the pale,” said the old man. “I wish I had someone to go out there and investigate. A lot of people have disappeared in that area. Mostly travelers, but some from the village as well.”

 

“Why couldn’t Faralda lead some students in cleaning them out?” asked Nora, pretty sure of the answer before Tolfdir could reply. They didn’t want to risk the students, and the Archmage didn’t want to lose his best instructor and lover, Faralda.

 

“The same reason that the Jarl’s guards won’t go near the place,” said the old man, frowning. “Necromancers are notorious for using black soul gems to trap the energy they need.”

 

That sent a chill down Nora’s spine. Black soul gems meant they were trapping the souls of men and mer. Which meant they were dooming the souls of innocents to the horror of the Soul Cairn. She couldn’t allow that to continue. Also, she could understand why warriors were loath to invade the lair of soul trappers. The Nords called in Soul Rape, and no one wanted that done to their very essence.

 

“I’ll get my people together and we’ll go clear them out,” she promised the Archmage.