Aithne had attempted to piece together her timeline with Borkul during her time at the College in her previous life. She has calculated she had spent a year and three months, give or take some few days, under his “care”. She had looked over maps of Skyrim, trying to piece together the route they had taken and the amount of time between stops. It was difficult because those months were a big blur in her mind, and none of those blurs was bigger than that of her time in the cave being trained as a slave.

 

How long had it taken for her to get to the point of submissiveness Borkul had demanded? Sutfu had judged it to be months, and he seemed one who would know (this thought made her realize Sutfu was probably roaming about this new Skyrim somewhere; the thought made her shudder and quickly think about something else).

 

Today was the 12^th of Frostfall, exactly 75 days since the (second) sinking of the Spirit. Would two and a half months have been enough? At the very best, she figured the actual journey part of her previous life would have just started; at worst, she was still in that cave.

 

It seemed inconceivable – so much had already happened in the time 0since the reset, how could previous her still be so early in her journey? So many horrors had already been inflicted on past her, yet they were nothing compared to the long road ahead.

 

It was just another reminder of the evil that had been Borkul the Beast.

 

Aithne shook her head, trying to clear it of the dark visions that accompanied those memories, and focused on the area around them.

 

There wasn’t much to see. Or, rather, there was a lot to see because the salt flats were just that – flat. They went on for miles but, with the exception of a large hill/small mountain in the distance, near the center of the plains, nothing impeded her sight. There was a lot of see, all right – a whole lot of nothing save for some bird near that distant mountain, probably a vulture or some other carrion type, that flew lazy circles for a while before gliding on some invisible wind stream in their general direction; and, coming from the north toward them, what looked like a contingent of soldiers.

 

There was exactly one settlement on the flats, if a single partially-built stone house counted as a “settlement.” It took about five minutes to reach it, and Aithne decided it would be a good place to stop to rest and to let the soldiers, who were close enough now that she could make out individual faces, pass by.

 

However, as they approached, it was not the soldiers that caught her attention. It was the…

 

“Dragon!”

 

Aithne just had time to lift a ward as a blast of scorching fire turned the ground around them to a smoldering blackened streak.

 

“Speak of the Daedra and lo they appear!” Chyehye laughed as she dropped her packs and pulled out her sword.

 

Aithne nodded, though her eyes never left the monster as it circled in the sky. She had forgotten how damn fast the things were – it had reached them from the hill, miles away across the broken flats, in that same short five minutes. Shouts went up from the soldiers and several far-too-late arrows shot ineffectual parabolas into the air.

 

Aithne shook her head as she watched the dragon arc up and around. “Here it comes again,” she began. “I’m going to…”

 

“This is very exciting!”

 

Aithne jumped as a new voice spoke behind her and glanced back to find a Breton woman with short-cropped sandy-blonde hair peering into the sky. She wore only a simple dress and carried no weapons.

 

Aithne blinked. “That’s one word for it. We can handle this. Perhaps you should wait inside?”

 

“Hm?” The woman looked at her and laughed. “Oh, I think we’ll be fine. Right, dear?”

 

“This one is certain of it.” A grey khajiit, also wearing simple clothes, leaned against the wall of the house. “Your concern should be for that poor dragon.”

 

“I’m not...”

 

“Here it comes,” the woman said. “Be ready. I’m going to try to freeze its wings to ground it.”

 

“That’s not nec…”

 

“Aaannnd…now!” The woman lifted her hands and twin icy blasts shot toward the dragon as it swooped down at them.

 

Aithne shrugged, lifted her ward again (expanding it to cover the woman as well) as the dragon’s fire swept over and around them, then yelped as arrows plopped into the ground near her feet. She turned and glared at the soldiers.

 

“Don’t shoot at us, idiots!”

 

Whether they heard her or not, Aithne couldn’t say, but she didn’t have time to wait for a reply. She reset herself and concentrated on the dragon as it began another dive, then focused on a spot in front of its trajectory. “Kosa ngach:iig; wëwpa spa:iig!”

 

The dragon’s roar sounded more like a scream as a BOOM shook the area. Its wings froze mid-flap and its graceful descent became a hurtling careen. A moment later, the ground shook again as the lizard’s body slammed into it, snapping one of its wings in the process, followed by a brief shower of water.

 

“Whoa!” The woman gaped at the dragon, then at Aithne. “What spell was that?”

 

“Brelyna’s Major Binding. It was invented by a friend of mine for exactly this situation.” She turned and shouted at Chyehye and Nyatt (and Merks) as they hurried toward it, “It can still thrash and breathe, so be wary of its claws and stay away from its head!”

 

They reached the dragon which was, indeed, thrashing, and Aithne positioned herself between her weapon-wielding spouses (and Merks; she allowed herself a brief moment of imagining her “accidentally” not quite covering him while the dragon’s fire was spewing) and the monster’s head as they began to hack at it (joined moments later by a bevy of the soldiers), ready to ward off any fire it might choose to let loose

 

The woman stood next to Aithne and cast spikes of ice into the dragon’s body as she asked, “Can you teach me?”

 

“Maybe. How familiar are you with Dundler’s Law?”

 

“Not at all. I did not have formal training.”

 

“Ah. The relevant part of Dundler’s Law states that the momentum of an object can be nullified if an object of equal momentum collides with it from the opposite direction. Or, in our case, if it collides with an object that has enough mass to counter that momentum. So the first part of the spell condenses the air to a point in front the dragon, hopefully with enough mass to come close to equaling its momentum. If it has enough, the dragon will stall and begin to fall. The second part of the spell is a variation on Lita’s Major Paralyzation, targeting the wings so it can’t flap them anymore. We tried just that part at first, but the damn things are too strong, so the momentary stun effect from the first part is necessary.”

 

“That sounds…complicated.”

 

Aithne shrugged. “It’s not too hard once you know a little about atmospherics. It is dangerous because…well, you heard the sound when the condensed air was released. It is not strong enough to seriously damage a dragon but you don’t want to do that near anything or anyone you care about! Plus, it creates a temporary pocket of nothing where the air is pulled from and who knows what affect that might have on…” she waved a hand in a general sort of way, “…everything.”

 

The woman turned toward the khajiit, who was staring at the dragon with a speculative air (Aithne didn’t need to read his thoughts to hear the sound of coins jingling in his head as he thought through all the ways a dragon could be turned into profit). “Maybe I should go to the college after all!” She laughed at the cat’s inscrutable return glance, then turned back to Aithne. “So will you teach me?”

Aithne shrugged. “It is always good to have more people who can fight these damn things.” The dragon let out a last roar then ceased moving and Aithne lowered her hands and turned to the woman.

 

“The college’s true value is not that they teach spells – I mean, they do teach spells, of course – but the true value is in the things they teach about why those spells work. The best teacher I ever had told me magic is only bound by your imagination – if you can picture it, you can do it. But it is not really that easy.

 

“You can’t just heal someone by picturing them becoming healthy. You have to be able to picture broken bones coming back together; you have to know the way a person’s organs look and work in order to get them to work again. And that doesn’t account for the different physiologies of other species.

 

“The same is true of spells like this – it is one thing to be told you need to compress air, but without a fundamental understanding of how air pressure works, it won’t do you much good. By the way, that thing will come back to life in about a week. In case you didn’t know that yet.”
               

“Will it, now?” The khajiit stared at the dragon a moment longer, then turned to Aithne. “It is good to see you again. I see you have different companions this time.”

 

Aithne blinked as her mind turned for a moment before settling on a conclusion.

 

“Ah, you must have met one of my sisters. We…” Aithne was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and an imperious Nord voice.

 

“Greetings, citizens! We thank you for you assistance in taking down this beast.”

 

Aithne blinked as she turned toward the soldiers – Stormcloaks, she was pretty sure, although she hadn’t paid close attention to the factions of the war. Two stood side by side in front of them, while the rest had pulled back about thirty paces.

 

Holo nodded a polite greeting at the Stormcloak who had spoken as she replied, “Greetings! We thank you, as well, for your assistance. How may we help you?”

 

“You already have.” The speaker – presumably the commander of the group – motioned at the dragon. “We are claiming this beast in the name of Ulfric, the rightful High King of Skyrim.”

 

“Oh, this one thinks not,” the khajiit replied. “The dragon is on our land. By law, that makes it ours.”

 

“Law? What law is that?”

 

“Imperial Land Holdings law 1833-b.”

 

“Well, there is your problem – Imperial law holds no jurisdiction here.”

 

“Perhaps not, but the same law set has always been…”

 

“Yes, yes, very well. The Stormcloaks will pay you for it, of course. But we will take it with us now.”

 

“Take…how? This one does not think you have enough men to carry such a burden.”

 

“I…” The commander stopped, looked at his men, then back at the dragon. “Hmm. You have a point. Well, we’ll just take its head, for now, and come back with carts for the rest.”

 

The khajiit’s eyes narrowed. “This one has a proposition for you – we will ask for no payment from you as long as we may keep whatever of the carcass we are able to harvest before you return. You may have all the rest for free.”

 

The commander looked at the khajiit then at the dragon again, then scoffed. “Very well. In the name of the Stormcloaks, I, Benrad Grey-Mane, accept your terms.”

 

“Very good.” They shook hands, then Benrad turned back and started shouting at his men.

 

Aithne shook her head, then accepted a quiet invitation from the khajiit, Kra'aft, and his wife Holo, and she and her spouses (and Merks) make their way to the partially-built house and had a nice cup of tea to the tune of muffled shouts and work from outside.

 

“That was a bold move,” Nyatt said. “The two of you won’t be able to harvest much.”

 

“Oh, but that is the point. This one has many friends who will be here long before the Stormcloaks are able to make it back to Windhelm and back, especially if they really mean to carry that head with them.”

 

“Ah. So…”

 

“So I am afraid there will be very little for them to come back for.”

 

Aithne snorted. “Little, indeed, if they don’t make it back by the time it comes back to life.”

 

“Yes, please tell this one more about that.”

 

So she did. Not with all the details of the past, of course; just enough general information to give them the context they needed to understand the peril.

 

“If you have dragons this soon, you might be in for a long row. Perhaps consider moving.”

 

“Oh, no, this one thinks not. This one has never heard of a more profitable place to be.” Kra’aft smiled sharp teeth at his spouse. “Did this one not tell you this was a good place to stop?”

 

Holo rolled her eyes then tossed a playful glare at Aithne. “See what you have done? Now he is going to be saying, ‘this one told you so’ every day.”

 

Aithne laughed as she set down her cup. “I apologize. We should be going, though, we…”

 

Holo held out a forestalling hand. “Wait, why not spend the night here? It is a safe place…well, usually safe,” she paused a moment to laugh, “and I would really like to learn that spell.”

 

Aithne blinked, then smiled. “Of course! I’m sorry, I forgot about that. We can work on it tomorrow – I’m sure you will be able to pick it up quickly.”

 

Later that night, after she and Chyehye had worked together to give Nyatt his husbandly ministerings, Aithne lay in the silence and dark of the room and thought back to what she had been considering earlier, but it felt less pressing now, for some reason.

 

The past was the past, even after it came back again; she could do nothing to help that past Aithne, so it wasn’t worth the time to think about how things had been. She was here and needed to focus on the now and on the future. Divines knew, the past could take care of itself well enough.

 

With that thought, she closed her eyes and fell into sleep, and only had one small nightmare instead of her usual three long ones, which passed for a peaceful night.

 

 

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