Chapter LXXXVII: Time Whizzes

(Torygg's POV)

My hand passes my forehead, revealing a thick sheen of sweat. Uncaring for my lessons of etiquette I simply wipe it on my coat and return to the letter from Tullius.

All the lands excluding Falkreath, which would need a full restoration, were put to swift order by the legion. Tullius' message was as simple in wording as it was relieving to receive.

A small part of me took cruel satisfaction when I learned that the bandits trying to earn the dragons' favor by ravaging the lands were all put to the sword with immense efficiency. Most of their camps disappearing overnight and leaving their impaled heads for all to see.

Most importantly, any and all dragons who had shown themselves in recent times were promptly hunted down by the Dragonborn and her growing entourage. Her ability, and no doubt Reyvin's, to find out about dragon attacks had grown recently, and even the two dragons allied to them were seen to participate in the hunts, even if the greater grey one was said to be immensely reticent.

Though thankfully the 'allied dragons' were swiftly accepted by the terrified populace, even if some fools decried them as monsters that should be put down just in case.

In truth there was some grumbling amongst my people, rumors even, about the Dragonborn hiding away and not doing her duty to the world (and to Skyrim, which obviously mattered more to them) but her recent outings put a thorough stop to that as dragon after dragon was felled with immense might and magic, and most importantly the voice.

They say a small hill was destroyed utterly when the already beloved Dragonbane shouted a dragon apart after breaking both of its wings and ruining its jaw. Songs were already echoing in the taverns at her heroic deeds and that naturally brought all manner of adventurers seeking a bit of glory for themselves.

And so, as these things usually go, there was now a company of some hundred men, elves, and beasts following the prophesized hero, all of them mighty and from every walk of life. Companions, wizards, mercenaries, even a legionary or three were given leave so that they may hone their skills against our dreaded foe.

I do admit to smiling quite broadly when I learned that Skirnir Stormcloak counted himself among their number. His decision in Windhelm seems to have lit a fire under him and he had already proven himself to be one of the mightiest in the band of dragonslayers.

And yet, for all the good news I received, my disquiet remained. Elisif tried but even her care was tinged with the knowledge that all who died in battle would be faced with a terror from stories told to scare as youths. Not even Trygve's curious mumblings helped, much to my shame.

Truly, even two weeks after Reyvin's earthshaking revelation I still could not shake of the utter feeling of dread and despair that gripped my heart. Sovengarde, the resting place of our heroic ancestors who died with valor and glory, used as a feeding ground for a divine reject.

A light scoff and a chuckle leave me at the very apt description, not that I would have ever dared to come up with it myself, even against something as utterly hated as Alduin the World Eater.

I was tempted then, to throttle the elven bastard. Oh how sweet it would have been to wipe the constant smirk off his face... but he was not smirking then, he knew damn well how weighty his words were and told them with appropriate solemnity.

We panicked then, with a bit of pride I realized that my first thoughts were of the utter panic that would spread if his words were heard by gossips and fools but even as my most trusted housecarls reached for their weapons in a barely contained rage we were told that a spell was already placed, bypassing the palace's protections with insulting ease and ensuring we were not heard.

I do not doubt for a second that everyone who was in that room now had an agent trailing them wherever they went, ready to silence them if need be. Erikur's sudden paranoia was quite telling about that in fact.

By the time we had managed to get our minds back together, shouting came from all sides. All were screaming except myself, Reyvin and Falk, the old Firebeard looked shattered, his ever firm back now leaning against a wall for support.

Even the vampire looked... not quite scared but certainly disquieted by the notion.

My words silenced all, and I asked him why he would hide something as terrible as this.

"And what would you have done?" The bastard asked simply, and knew he was right.

And what answer could we give him? Would we commit suicide and throw ourselves at the foul beast in the afterlife? Helm was even foolish enough to suggest it, though that may have been his frothing rage if his bloodshot eyes were any indication.

He knew that telling us earlier was useless, and knowing him as I do after all these years I forced myself to accept it, and then demanded that I be included in any planning which I knew he would do.

That he accepted without hesitation, stopping me from throttling his lying throat once more.

All in all, each and every one of us left that meeting feeling drained, fearful, and absolutely, immensely, indescribably, unconsolably, fucking FURIOUS!

Alduin would meet his end, this I swear as High King!

'But first I need to deal with this farmer's dispute.' I sigh and grab the parchment detailing yet another claim to another man's cows.

Damn that fucking chair...

(Reyvin's POV)

"Reyvin." The deep voice of my friend draws me from my sketch "I have a request."

Blinking habitually I look up to Durrak, his entire face was by now covered in scars he refused to get removed because it made him look more manly or something equally asinine 'Not a one!' he said as I proposed it.

It isn't like fucking stone shrapnel wounds on your already ugly mug would draw the ladies...

"Ask and you shall receive" I grin at the orc.

"Right." He nods... and hesitates.

"Come on Durrak." I roll my eyes "You aren't one to ask for help when you can do something on your own and I can sense this is important to you." Still he remains silent and I frown "Is this about Kodlak's death?"

He blinks in surprise but then smiles and shakes his head "I shouldn't have bothered being embarrassed if this is how quickly you read me."

A light snort leaves me "Oh please, you wouldn't hesitate for a moment to ask me for something that concerns you personally. I may be friendly to the companions but it is you who is the reason behind that friendship."

"Yeah, yeah" He chuckles and waves me off "So you going to help us?"

"With what?" I ask with a smirk.

He deadpans at me "Don't pretend you don't know, your 'seer bullshit' already told you no doubt."

I lean into my seat and scoff a tad too dramatically "Ruin all my fun, why don't you?"

The massive orc just grins.

"Right then" I turn serious now "Did you already raid the hagravens and get their heads?"

"Aye" He nods "It was Kodlak's last request that we hunt for them, we have a dozen heads for all those who wish to abandon the blessing."

My eyebrow quirks "Still consider it a blessing then?"

He shrugs "It makes me stronger and lets me protect the weak better, my soul is a small price to pay and it isn't like I am going to get eternally tortured when I die besides."

My previously curious expression twists into a mildly disgusted frown, but a part of me does understand his viewpoint and his lack of an outside perspective. 'Not like I can't discretely unbind him when he ages for a while anyway' the stray thought hits me and my mood lightens considerably.

"Right." I pretend to accept his words and he believes me instantly, the goof "So what is it that you need my help with exactly? Can't reach the tomb by yourselves? Or does Eorlund lack he skill to reforge that disgusting axe?"

I still remember the repulsive feeling I got from the thing, fucking racist-ass piece of forestry equipment.

He winces slightly at the jab but shakes his head "No, we can deal with that on our own easily enough. What we need help with is the ritual itself, we can't be sure it will work as Kodlak had described it and having you on hand to make sure of it would be a weight of our backs."

I lean my elbows on my study table and clasp my hands together "And you want to do this when?"

"Before we attack the dragon temple." He answers firmly.

It takes me a moment to ask "Why?"

"So that Kodlak may aid in the battle against Alduin of course!" Durrak grins, fucking grins at the idea "Getting glory even in the afterlife is something the old Harbinger deserves" He crosses his arms and nods proudly.

"No." A sigh leaves me "I am not throwing a good soul at Alduin just so you lot can feel proud about yourselves."

"What?" Durrak blinks "But... wouldn't it be better to have all the help we can get?"

"Durrak." My tone in using his name makes him flinch "Do you have any idea how utterly ruinous it is for a soul to be wounded?"

He tilts his head "Ermm...."

"Very." I answer harshly "If Kodlak were to be liberated only to have his soul rent in two by the literal fucking World Eater all your efforts would have been for nothing." I growl out "So no, I am not going to let you send a man's restful soul to be devoured just so you can pat yourselves on the back."

Halfway through my answer, the poor man had begun to pale, his arms and back shaking slightly at the image I was creating. Finally, his shoulders slump and he sighs "I... you are right of course." He bows his head "I will... make sure the rest understand the need to wait." And leaves.

Ah, poor, foolish Durrak, to think you would try lying to me.

Scorch appears on my shoulder "Let him cook."

I blink "I wasn't about to chase after him. If he is idiot enough not to listen to me after all this, then he will carry the old man's soul on his conscience for his entire life."

"Uh huh." Bird man deadpans "And how sweet of you to forget to inform him of the sheer dumb lack of chance for his soul to get there in time in the first place, eh?"

"Risk and reward Scorch" I mutter "Risk and reward."

"Fucking old fart." He snorts and disappears.

I shake my head and teleport to my personal workshop. Two weeks had flown by already and the preparations were going along quite well, all that remained was for me to create the best possible gear for myself and ensure I didn't die like an idiot at the last minute.

The Daedra had all stopped any and all hostile action, Mephala was rather clear on that one. None of them wanted their playground to be destroyed and even Mora sent a discreet messenger to his 'sister' to inform me of his one-sided truce.

As if I'd drop my guard before the Squidward cosplayer.

Still, the breather, even with my paranoia, was appreciated.

Hopefully Minthara's own preparations would go well.

(Minthara's POV)

"Are you sure you do not wish for us to aid you, my lady?" Esbern asks quietly as the small part of my group tries to listen in "I do not quite follow your... kin's concept of honor and fairness but you did mention that this one was a rather powerful foe."

"I appreciate the offer Esbern, I really do." I smile at the old man, his dedication was something to behold, that was for certain "But if I want to prove myself the conqueror then I must do this on my own."

"As you wish, my lady." He bows his head "May Akatosh grant you strength."

I offer him a firm nod, and then step through the wayshrine. The wind around me picks up and soon I am standing atop a wide and more importantly uninhabited plateau.

'This is it' My fingers twitch around the pole of my hammer 'No more hesitation.'

I take a deep breath, the mountain air serving quite well to calm me before the fateful challenge, and shout "OD AH VIING!" 

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Laaaadiess and gentlemen, it is time!

Let's get ready to mumbleeeee!

(The bettings stands are open, toss forth your stones!)

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