Chtonji beamed as the cake was set in front on him and immediately grabbed for it.

 

“No.” Aithne took his hand and held it, laughing. “Not yet. First we need to crush the box. Right, Da Da?”

 

Urag, beaming from the other side of the table, nodded, picked up the small box on the side of the cake, and set it in front of Chtonji. He placed his hand on Aithne’s, which still held Chtonji’s, and said, “Ready?”

 

Aithne nodded, her attention fully on keeping the toddler’s opposite hand from grabbing at the cake. “One, two, three!”

 

As one, all three yelled, “Syåbåybe!” as their hands descended to crush the small box.

 

Chtonji laughed, which made his parents laugh harder. Aithne shared a smile with Urag as their hands lingered on the table for a moment, then he removed his and she released Chtonji and reached for the knife to cut her son’s third birthday cake.

 

Urag settled into his chair and watched the child smash the box several more times, each time yelling, “Syåbåybe!” again. “Out of curiosity, where was he this time?”

 

Aithne rolled her eye as she placed a piece of cake on Chtonji’s plate, which resulted in the immediate release of the poor tortured box as the boy attacked the food. “He somehow got into Archmage Ervine’s quarters. I have no idea how – unlike its previous tenant, she keeps it well-warded.”

 

Urag lifted his eyebrows as Aithne set cake in front of him. “And you know this how? Have you been trying to sneak into Mirabelle’s study?”

 

Aithne laughed as she sat with her own piece of cake. “No. She…”

 

A small ding interrupted her and she exchanged a startled glance with Urag.

 

Urag grunted, his smile replaced by an annoyed frown. “Who could that be?” He stood up and strode toward the door to their suite.

 

Chtonji tossed his fork aside and reached for the cake with his hands but Aithne stopped him. “No, use your fork.”

 

“Too slow! I want a big bite!”

 

“You’ll end up with the same amount of cake either way.”

 

This line of reasoning did nothing to quell the child’s recalcitrance, of course, and she sighed as she prepared for yet another fight but was interrupted by Urag speaking from the doorway.

 

“We have a visitor.”

 

Aithne blinked and looked up as Chtonji took advantage of her distraction and grabbed the cake in both hands. Urag stepped aside to make room for a Breton woman with grey-streaked blonde hair who froze when she saw Aithne.

 

Their gazes held for a long moment, then the woman shook her head. “You have got to be kidding me. Another one?"

 

Aithne frowned. “Another one?”

 

“Yes. I thought it a coincidence when one person who looked like the Dragonborn showed up but then I came across a second one. And now a third.” The woman shook her head and laughed. “It’s an infestation!”

 

“Oh, you must be the person I've heard about. Daphne? Something like that?”

 

“Delphine. You heard about me?”

 

“Yes. I also met those two who look like me.”

 

“Truly? Where?”

 

“Labyrinthian.” Aithne tried to ignore Urag’s stormy expression (although it was difficult because it gave her a distracting pang of lust) – he had not been pleased when he learned where she had gone that month-and-a-half ago. But the make-up sex had been…

 

She gave her head a shake and forced herself to focus. “Have you found your Dragonborn?”

 

Delphine’s expression fell and she shook her head. “We have not. And I fear we’re reaching the point where it will be too late even if we do find her.”

 

“Is it that bad?” Urag pulled Chtonji’s hands away from the cake and handed the boy his fork. “Use it. We have reports of significant dragon activity in the west and south. It has been quiet here so far, but…”

 

Delphine nodded. “They are as prevalent as birds in some areas. This is a somewhat out of the way portion of Skyrim but you should expect to see activity sooner rather than later. I have already talked to your Archmage about the most effective strategies we have discovered so far, such as scattering the bones as soon as they die to slow down the regeneration process. She has promised to help how she can.

 

“Which brings me to my visit. Although I apologize for the timing of it – I would have come later had I known you were in the middle of something.”

 

“It’s Chtonji’s third birthday.” Aithne beamed down at the boy, who ignored everything except his cake. At least he was using his fork. If cutting off pieces with the fork before horking them down with his hands counted as “using” it.

 

“Happy birthday!” Delphine smiled at Chtonji, who failed to notice.

 

Urag grunted a laugh and turned back to Delphine. “What can we help you with?”

 

“In our research, we discovered how the ancient men were able to defeat the dragons. The key was a Shout – are you familiar with Shouting? A little? Okay, in brief, Shouting is just being able to use dragon-like abilities. When a dragon roars, it’s not really a roar – it is speaking in their tongue. Certain combinations of their words produce magic-like effects.”

 

“Ah!” Understanding clicked in Aithne’s mind. “Like the draugr!”

 

Delphine nodded. “Some of the more powerful draugr were once Dragon Priests and have that ability, yes. The Dragonborn also has an innate ability to Shout. The one we discovered is called Dragonrend and it was invented by those ancient men. Unfortunately, the words to the shout have been lost to time, so we hoped your library might have some long lost mention of it.”

 

Urag and Aithne exchanged glances, then Urag shook his head. “I have no recollection of anything like that. We have an extensive section on dragons, though – you are welcome to look through them.”

 

“I can help,” Aithne added as she wiped Chtonji’s cake-covered hands with a napkin (to little effect). “What does this shout do?”

 

“We’re…not certain.” Delphine smiled. “Hopefully it rends them.”

 

“That would be useful!” Urag motioned at the door. “I’ll show you where the books are.”

 

“I am obliged.”

 

Delphine tossed Aithne another rueful look and a shake of her head before following Urag out, and Aithne grabbed Chtonji and headed for the bath, but her mind was reeling.

 

She hadn’t paid much mind to the talk of dragons. The only one she had ever seen had been a much-too-close encounter (but had saved her from Sutfu, so score one for the dragons!) Would her Funneling technique work on dragon breath (or, apparently, Shout) attacks? She cursed herself for not testing it in Labyrinthian. Trendil the Stormcloak had handled all the Shouts (Aithne still regretted not asking about that little trick) and it hadn’t occurred to Aithne to intervene. Probably for the best – trying to step between Trendil’s whirling swords and their target seemed a very bad idea.

 

It was tempting to just let the entire subject go. She had her own studying to take care of, after all, and it was easy to ignore something that didn’t seem to be affecting the college. And the college leadership surely had a plan. In theory, it seemed best to let the more experienced people take care of the issue.

 

And yet, the mere thought made Aithne’s shoulders twitch. Not that she didn’t have confidence in Mirabelle, but…

 

One of the first lessons any sailor learns is to take storms that seem far away seriously – the sky could go from crystal clear to overcast in almost no time, and the waves often swelled higher long before the storm actually hit. Woe to the captain who did not take precautions at the first sign of trouble!

 

And, clearly, trouble was brewing. Dark clouds sat on the horizon like stalking beasts.

 

Apparently dragons would be showing up soon, possibly in great numbers. The legends said dragons had once ruled the world and all of humanity had been enslaved to them. If that was this new batch of dragons’ plan, they had an enemy in Aithne – she would not go back to being a slave to anyone, man, mer, or dragon. She shook her head as she mentally adjusted her upcoming study schedule. Whatever school exams that were coming up seemed less important than what may prove to be the greatest threat to the world in millennia.

 

She nearly scoffed at the thought - it seemed so silly and over-dramatic. But her amusement was quelled by her own experience. She knew - who better? - how life could be upended in the blink of an eye, never to be the same again. Whatever was coming, she would do her best to be ready for it.

 

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