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Day 6 - Your name is Thurseiiz


Thermius

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blog-0888367001427266564.jpgDear diary,

 

 

Life continues. One thing that life on the road revolves around is gold and I have nearly none left. Thankfully people always have favors that need doing. Thus my morning was spent chopping wood for the locals. Boti, the woman that I had seen arguing with a man, her husband Jofthor, told me about how Ivarstead was becoming a bit of a backwater. She also told me of her daughter, Fastred. By Ysmir, what is it with all these damsels? Where are the men? Apparently there were men... Klimmek, a trader, fisherman and part-time courier, and Bassianus, a pretentious prat... Klimmek appeared to have confidence issues, Bassianus just had issues...

 

Coincidentally I had met Klimmek in the inn. He seemed like a nice guy... I thought maybe he'd have some fresh fish for sale when he got back from the lake. Sadly he wasn't in a trading mood, but he said he would let me have some fish if I did him a favor and climbed to the temple on the slopes of the Throat of the World... The Seven Thousand Steps that led up to the home of the Greybeards had never been on my list of things to see before I met my ancestors, but I felt compelled to do it... for the fish... They looked fat enough for the oncoming winter and were probably delish...

 

So with a pack filled with food I took the first steps up the mountain. The journey up the mountain became heavier as the air began to thin at such height. Still, the steps were broad and the incline was gentle... No need for prayer to the patron saint of minor discomfort... Again; What doesn't kill you...

 

 

On the way up I collected the writings from the waystones, together they read;

 

Before the birth of Men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus;

Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs;

For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land.

 

Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus;

The Dragons presided over the crawling masses;

Men were weak then, and had no Voice.

 

The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times;

Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices;

But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.

 

Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man;

Together they taught Men to use the Voice;

Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.

 

Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world;

Proving for all that their Voice too was strong;

Although their sacrifices were many-fold.

 

With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer;

Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice;

Whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World.

 

The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled;

Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation;

To understand how Strong Voices could fail.

 

Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned;

The 17 disputants could not shout Him down;

Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World.

 

For years all silent, the Greybeards spoke one name;

Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar;

They blessed and named him Dovahkiin.

 

The Voice is worship;

Follow the Inner path;

Speak only in True Need.

 

 

High Hrothgar is a place without warmth... After depositing the knapsack of food in chest intended for such things I felt the undeniable urge to inquire about something Friend said before he passed away; "Do Vagh Gee" and the strange words that ran through my very being when I uncovered them.

 

 

The Greybeards are exactly what you'd expect. Old men with gray beards. When I entered High Hrothgar they seemed to pay little heed to me... Three were lost in meditation, I guess, and the fourth one politely asked me to leave. I don't know why, but when I opened my mouth the strange words rolled off my tongue.

"Pah werid sonaan Lunerio, wen yuvon lovaas meyz fo het ko vulon." A chill ran through my throat. I could see the monk's eyes grow for a moment and when I closed my mouth I saw the other monks had turned their gaze on me now.

 

"I read these words and they seared into my mind." I stated.

"All praise bard Lunerio, whose golden music became frost here in night." the monk said.

"Who is Lunerio?" I asked, baffled by his response.

"That is what you said my dear. It is dragontongue, the language of dragons. You have probably met with a dragon and survived then..."

Well, Friend defeated him... I guess I stabbed it in the heart, but..." The monk looked quizzical and asked who Friend was. I told him of the encounter, the battle, the dragon engulfed in flame, the wordwall, the words...

 

The monks immediately took to explaining what was happening to me. I am Dragonborn. Inheritor of the Atmoran blood and prodigy of the voice of man. Strike my previous theories, I wasn't even close... I was about to start asking any of a dozen questions that spilled from my curiosity, but the temple echoed with a deep rolling thunder. "Vos ek rahnd, zu'u hind wah tinvaak voth ek."

 

"It seems our leader, Paarthurnax, has granted you permission to visit him. It is a rare honor, though in this age... everything seems possible..." Master Arngeir, the only vocal monk, said.

 

A short trip through the courtyard and along a winding path up to the top of the mountain later I stood on the throat of the world...

"Valokein joor, welcome mortal."

"Zu'u los frund hi bo, I'm glad you come."

"Aalkos hi vust fey fod ahrk tinvaak, maybe you could stay a while and talk."

 

Perched on another wordwall was a dragon. I had frozen in my tracks the moment I noticed him, which to be honest had been far too late... Curiosity for the wordwall and blinded me.

"You are Paarthurnax?" I had managed to force myself to say.

"Hi los eldraag, you are surprised?"

"Why me? Why can I understand you? Why does the sound of your voice comfort me?"

"Us zu'u fahraal, before I answer, lig bolaav zey laan, please grant me a request."

"Tinvaak rot hi doj nol vund, speak the word you learned from the wall."

"Rotmulaag, the word of power."

 

As his words sank into me I remembered the exact word that made my throat feel cold. I raised my head and softly spoke it aloud. "Fo..." A wave of cold air pulsed from my mouth. It washed over Paarthurnax and frost formed on his scales.

"Grik fask zii, such gentle spirit."

"Hi piraak avokei zahvos fah tinvaak, you possess greater potential for speech, fein vorey, than the other."

"The other?" I asked. I was still awestruck, but the initial fear had completely vanished. "Is there another dragonborn like me?"

"Vorey dovahkiin, the other dragonborn, gein tol sav hin lein nol Alduin, the one who saved the world from Alduin."

"Rok kuz dez do lein, he carried the fate of the world, nuz fey ko Sovngarde, but stayed in Sovngarde."

"So I am the only one then?"

"Fah nu, for now."

 

I let it all sink in for a moment. I felt no deception from him. Everything he had told me thus far had been steeped in respect. I suppose that was inherent to dragon-talk, but I am no scholar... I looked up at him, questions burning on my tongue. He tilted his head slightly, when I asked; "You said I have potential. What did you mean by that?" I asked.

"Speak your name at the wall young one." he answered and turned his head to face the wall.

"Thermis." I spoke at the wall and to my amazement two symbols lit up.

"Thur iiz, Thurseiiz, Lord of ice. I will show you the Thu'um of Fo, Frost." Paarthurnax bellowed three words; "FO KRAH DIIN!" In a violent gust the entire wordwall was covered in ice.

"Fo, Frost, Krah, Cold and Diin, Freeze. These word form the Thu'um of Frost Breath. The act of freezing, the loss of energy, but also the the shell that remains. Those who master these rotmulaag, these words of power, learn fine control over what they take... Do not be frightened, you will not be harmed."

 

He turned his head towards me and bellowed those words again... Had I still any fear left, I might have tried to jump out of the way, but I felt safe...

"FO KRAH DIIN!" he shouted and the violent gust engulfed me. To my amazement, the only thing that happened was in the wake of the gust a trail of snow formed in the air. It was nothing like the effect I had witnessed on the wall...

 

 

After talking to him for a bit more, I noticed the sun was near setting. I thanked him for teaching me my name and my voice. He, in turn, thanked me for listening to an old Dovah and offered to teach me more of the language if or when I returned. On my way down it hit me that I'd probably never make it back down the mountain before the sun had disappeared. So instead I asked Master Arngeir if they had a spare room. He showed me a secluded corner where I could rest my head. Life, as I said, continues...

 

 

Disclaimer (thanks to thebookdesigner.com ;) ):

This is a work of (pure adult) fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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I write most of this up in notepad or wordpad in txt, no formatting. Even then it fucks up...

I tend to do all the formatting for each piece when I merge it into the main document. I hate any form of auto-correct so MS Word just get on my tits too often.

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