Chapter XXIX: Monastic Musings

Once we stepped out into the open air of the temple's back yard I could not help but let out a light whistle of appreciation. It was, as most things were, far grander than my vague memories of the place made me believe.

What I expected to find was a blank snow covered piece of dirt where a quartet of ancient crotchety old men spent their days freezing their asses off. What I got instead was a large garden complex that was completely devoid of snow and chill, seemingly by divine intervention. There were still some open spaces, probably for training purposes, but most of the it was composed of gardens and what looked to be small stone pavilions built for meditation on the words of power.

The four Greybeards led us all to a distant part of the complex, a familiar spot below an old tower overlooking over half of the province.

Once we all arrived Arngeir turned to Minthara and spoke "Before we begin with your lessons we feel that a demonstration of your current capabilities is in order." He inclined his head toward a familiar iron gate "Are you familiar with the whirlwind sprint shout?"

She barely holds back a grin "Oh I am more than merely familiar with it."

"Is that so?" The old man raises an eyebrow "Then I trust you will find no trouble in demonstrating your skill for all of us to see?"

She rolls her eyes, though I feel a bit of irritation seep through the seemingly innocent expression "Just get on with it old man."

"Very well." He huffs in amusement and turns to one of his colleagues and tells him to demonstrate. They go through the whole gate trick and by the time they are satisfied the look on Minthara's had already turned to a mix of boredom and excitement.

I did not like where this was going, and so while no one was looking I pointed my hand up and blasted out a bit of fire with some quick instructions.

By the time I turned back Mitnhara was already breathing in and as the Greybeard next to the gate commanded the gate to open with a "Bex!" She immediately used the full shout "WULD NAH KEST!"

And it was at that moment that I found myself united with the Greybeards for the first time, as we watched almost in slow motion as she, in her boredom/excitement/desire to shame the quartet of old men with her immense power, overshot her target and flew straight off the cliffside.

Her companions were much less amused, and their reactions involved a lot more yelling.

The momentum took her pretty far and gave her just enough time to turn around mid-flight and give us all a perfect view of the realization slowly dawning in her eyes... and then the momentum bled off and she started to fall.

I let it continue for a moment, just to make the lesson stick, before Scorch descended from nearby and scooped the screaming demigod up with his claws, bringing her safely back before the terrified Greybeards and her equally worried friends and followers.

Absently, I noticed every single one of the old monks give me looks of thanks and general approval once they realized what happened. They may have been questioning her but she shouldn't expect to be immediately respected wherever she went and since she had been getting a lot of that recently, a different reception was definitely more healthy for the mind.

'She would probably have survived tho.' The bird comments as he plops her down, purposefully making her fall on her ass.

'Better not risk it.' I immediately deny and focus back on the immensely embarrassed and relieved dragon person, her face immediately paling as she noticed my look which promised I would never forget this.

"Well now..." Arngeir shakes himself out of his stupor "That was... impressive." Her expression begins to lighten "Impressively amateurish." The old man cuts her down without mercy "You may have power and some experience but with such a lack of control I would not be surprised if the dragons merely let you end yourself instead of even bothering with lifting their claws." His tone is calm but the air seems to tremble as he speaks.

'Damn' Scorch whistles 'Old man is pissed.'

Seemingly forgetting what just happened her embarrassment quickly turns to fury "I have killed two of them already!"

"Oh?" Arngeir looks down at her "And how many hundreds needed to die to give you the chance?"

Silence descends upon the gardens and all of us feel a sudden shift in the air, as the demigod who had consumed three whole dragon souls recently was slowly feeling less and less like talking and more and more like punching and shouting.

'And that is enough of that' Without saying anything I walk up to them and grab her by the cloak in such a way that would make any movement feel incredibly awkward, before she can protest I blast her with an overcharged calm spell and start dragging her off, merely telling the rest I would "Be right back."

The spell wore off a mere ten seconds later, a mere tenth of its intended effect, and she was already struggling to break free, oddly enough she remained entirely focused on going on and tearing the 'crotchety old fuck' a new one.

Realizing I was not going to get to her with words I turned back to ole' reliable and pulled out my trusty folded scroll, the mere presence of which made her briefly stop with her attempts to get free.

"Alright." I begin, my voice a mix of exasperation and concern "What the fuck is going on with you? I was too focused on my own problems when I first arrived, but after watching you for a while it is obvious something is up and it definitely isn't good."

She immediately turns defensive "What are you talking about?"

"You have been acting off ever since Whiterun." I point out "Admittedly I did not have all that much time to notice what exactly is happening but what little I did overhear during our trip up the mountain does not paint a pretty picture. So I ask again, Minthara, what exactly is going on with you?"

She attempts to glare me into submission and when that obviously does not work she looks away "It is nothing, I've just been nervous, that is all."

I roll my eyes so hard she feels it even without looking, having drawn her attention I point at said eyes "Look at these, do they look like they are blinded by the bullshit you just spewed?"

She winces and turns silent. One internal debate later her shoulders sag and she exhales "Fine, you were wrong."

I wait for a moment and as I realize she was not about to elaborate without prompting I raise an eyebrow "Oi, being frustratingly vague is my job, not yours."

She huffs out a laugh "Doesn't feel all that good when people do it to you, now does it?" She asks with a smirk, it disappears after only a moment though as she sighs "It got worse, the soul effect."

"What?" I blink.

"Exactly what I've just said." She states, looking far, far more tired than she did but a mere moment earlier "It did not get easier as you theorized, it got worse." She leans back against the nearby wall "And I have no idea on how to deal with it all."

"Well damn." I mutter.

She deadpans "Quite."

I ponder briefly and say "Could be that doing it in quick succession is what made it worse. Stacking so many memories on top of each other without giving yourself time to digest them is probably not all that healthy."

The look she gives me tells me she is tempted to blame me for that decision but she quickly shakes that thought off and actually considers my words "You are probably right." She decides finally.

"Of course I am." I nod smugly and ignore the justly earned glare.

"So what do I do?" She asks, almost pitifully "I can't trust myself like this, sooner or later I will do something I will not be able to take back, even now I am still pissed at the old man for talking down to me even if I know deep down that he is right."

"Simple." I shrug "Take a break."

"Take a... break?" She asks, genuinely baffled.

"Yup." I pop the P "You have been running yourself rugged for over a year now, partially by my fault I admit, so go ahead and take some time off, pretend that whatever task the Greybeards give you took you more time than you expected and no one will bat an eye."

"But..." She trails off momentarily "What about our conversation at Ivarstead? We agreed that we have a duty to do what others can't, and now you are telling me that I should just... do nothing?"

I sigh and give her a look of mild exasperation "Look, I wasn't aware of just how much the souls were fucking with you, and now that I am aware I can easily tell you that you are of no use to anyone if you die due to a stupid decision caused by what is effectively your soul needing rest."

"Give my soul a nap, is it?" She quips, slightly less distraught.

"Exactly." I grin.

A small smile spreads on her face "You know what? That doesn't sound all that bad."

We descend into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the supernaturally calming atmosphere of the gardens. A good five minutes later, after I spied Minthara finally fully calming down I clapped my hands and pointed to where we came from "Come on, let's see what the monks have to say."

Our little conversation must have taken quite a bit of time because by the time we returned the whole lot of them, Greybeards and the rest of them all, had set up around a small campfire with a stew already brewing as Marco was busy playing what sounded like some kind of Cyordiilic waltz to my ears.

We chose not to disturb the scene and simply joined them without a word, enjoying a nice meal once music time was over and done with.

A full hour later, the Greybeards got up and to my surprise Arngeir told both me and Minthara to follow them, leaving the others to relax by themselves.

"Surprised?" The old man asks me as we trail behind his elders and my apprentice.

"Should I be?" I ask "You may play the part of a dogmatic but you cannot hide the curiosity in your eyes, even now you are barely holding back the numerous questions you have for someone who views the voice in a completely different manner."

His steps falter for only a split second but that was all the confirmation I needed "I wanted to say that your aid with saving the Dragonborn was deserving of a reward, but if you feel more at ease in a more conniving environment we do not mind playing the part."

"Smartass." I huff "Still, I doubt I am wrong in my assumption."

"You are indeed not." He allows after a brief consideration.

"I do not mind it, honestly." I shrug "Sharing the knowledge that is."

"But you expect some in return." He concludes immediately.

"I could just ask her to teach me after we descend from the mountain." I say easily, indicating I was talking about Minthara "But as much as I may dislike the ideology of your order I do still hold a bit of respect for your power."

"A bit of respect he says." Arngeir huffs without any heat "How generous."

"I am nothing if not magnanimous." I declare pompously "But you did not have us trail behind the rest to learn of my indubitable greatness, ask your questions."

He doesn't even bother denying it "How can Kyne bless someone like you?"

"Ah, going straight for the big one?" I ask playfully "It is simple, it is all about intent and purpose."

His expression tells me I have his undivided attention.

"She would never have blessed me if she felt my intentions were as despicable as you may present them." I explain easily "And my purpose was always to bring some kind of peace to the world, even if indirectly."

"How so?" He asks, seemingly unable to control himself.

"The answer to that, my dear monk, will take you far more than a lesson or three." I grin at him, earning a slight grumble, we walk in silence for a while longer "Think of it this way" I speak up again "The voice of man, and in my case Mer, comes from Kyne, a tool given to us for an obvious purpose."

"A purpose which does not include warfare, I assure you." He interjects automatically.

"Yes, yes, yelling at enemies bad." I wave him off "As I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted, think of it as two sides of the same coin." He raises an eyebrow "You propagate the idea of peace, spending your days meditating on it and teaching those who will listen... while I act toward bringing said peace." I tilt my head at the thoughtful monk "Both paths are valid, but only action brings change to the world, positive or negative. You can talk about something for thousands of years and yet you would never be able to enact your vision without taking action first."

"So that is it?" Arngeir asks "Just force everyone to follow your will?"

"Nothing so crass, I assure you." I shake my head "But one would have to be terribly naive to think that mere words and good will are enough to create a better world."

Before our little debate could continue, the voice of one of the elders rang out as he called for Arngeir "Zeymah." The old man waved for us to speed up and we soon stepped out into a hidden alcove in the vast garden complex of High Hrothgar, the air within which was the cleanest fucking thing I had ever inhaled.

The Greybeards dispersed themselves and took up the space at the edges of the clearing, patiently waiting for the two of us to follow suit. Once all of us were situated, Arngeir spoke "We shall begin our first lesson as we do for every new aspirant, to shout one must first speak, and to speak one must first breathe."

I swear if he mentions anything to do with 'cultivating' one's breath I am going to lose my shit.

----------------

Zeymah = Brother

-----------------

You thought you would be free of the toll after a measly weekend!

YOU FOOLS! *Quadruples chapter tax and cackles maniacally*

If you want to support me directly and get access to 35ish chapters (Some 70k-ish words) in advance visit my patreon page patreon .com/Rastislav156

If you want to discuss the story or just meme about join my discord server: https://discord.gg/NsDHGQpvsF (refreshed)