I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars

did wander darkling in the eternal space.

Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth

swung blind and blackening in the moonless air.

Lord Byron- Darkness

It felt as though he was floating. His limbs, his body, every fiber of his being seemed weightless and unburdened. He tried to stand, only for his legs to kick and strain without purchase. His wings unfurled, beating powerfully as he struggled to take flight. Something was holding him back. The very air seemed thick and heavy, and the strokes of his wings brought no movement.

The dragon stilled as the unfamiliar sensation of fear crept into his stomach. What had happened? Where was he?

Two serpentine eyes cracked open, pupils dilated as they peered into the gloom. He blinked rapidly, waiting, then willing, then demanding them to adjust. The darkness remained absolute. Frustrated, he stretched open his jaws and spoke.

"Yol… Toor… Shul!"

His words were accompanied by a jet of white-hot flames that burst from his mouth. His vision was dazzled, and it was all he could do not to slam his eyes shut to ward off the glare. What he saw made him freeze in disbelief.

The fire brought no illumination. It cut into the darkness as though it were puncturing a physical barrier, only for the blackness to coil inwards and snuff it out of existence. There was nothing out there.

Dread crept into his thoughts, and he twisted his body to the side before launching another shot of fire into the unknown.

Nothing.

His neck curved and spun, his jaws belching flame in every direction. In every case, the same. The flames met the darkness, and the darkness consumed them. A lightless abyss stretched out before him, and he was alone.

His mind raced. Where was he? How did he come to be trapped here? The darkness pressed inwards, and it seemed that now he was no longer floating, but held firmly in place. A fixed point in a sea of emptiness. Empty… The Void! His eyes widened, and dread turned to despair. If he was indeed correct, than he had been forced from the physical universe. Beyond Nirn, beyond Oblivion, set adrift in a timeless vacuum where only the primal essences of stasis and turmoil dwelt.

But how? His head pounded, his breaths came quick and shallow as he tried to remember.

.

..

…

His wings flapping as he soared upwards through cold air.

A mountain, among the highest in the world.

A shout that tore at his very essence, forcing him to the ground.

A traitorous brother, his voice still ringing with the treachery of past centuries.

A dishonorable retreat.

Sovngarde.

The Dovahkiin…

His head snapped back, realization and hatred overpowering his thoughts. Dead. Slain by a wretch of a mortal, one aided by his own unfaithful brethren! His maw wrenched open, a ragged scream tearing from his throat, only for his voice to sound out flatly in the emptiness. Anger coursed through his blood as he remembered his defeat, his betrayal, his death! Mindlessly he raged, clawing and snapping and screaming into the dark as he cursed the world that had felled him.

The darkness thickened, as though trying to resist his movements, and he thrashed all the harder. For a time the dark and quiet of The Void was filled with roars and the light of fire, but then the dragon stilled, and his struggles ceased. His anger burnt down into a cinder of bitter regret, he slumped into the embrace of the shadows and let them carry him away.

He was unsure how long he hung in the blackness, his mind wandering where his body could not. He seemed to teeter between memory and illusion, and in his brief moments of clarity he thought of Numinex, the dragon whose mind and soul were broken by long years of captivity.

Was that to be his fate? To linger here until his soul had dwindled to a mere husk, devoid of memory, of thought, of spirit? An ironic fate, for one whose goal was the utter destruction of existence. In such a light, he mused, perhaps he was justly punished.

"An admission of guilt. Far from repentance… but perhaps it is enough."

Simply hearing a sound not of his own making was a tremendous shock. Hearing a voice booming out through the shadows like a thunderclap was a surprise akin to standing atop a suddenly erupting volcano.

The dragon let out an extremely undignified squawk as he flailed about, head swiveling in all directions to try and locate the speaker.

"Who speaks," he roared. His mania and lethargy were swept away, and he could all but feel his blood boil at the thought of a potential escape… or an enemy to gut.

A deep chuckle rolled over him, and he could swear he felt a hot breath against his scales.

"As aggressive and demanding as ever. For all your boasts, you are still but a Kiir, barely out of your egg."

"Mu Dahmaan Hin Zul," he spoke with a repressed snarl. "So then, come to chide your wayward son? Or perhaps you feel I deserve further suffering? Have you not punished me enough?"

"ENOUGH!" The sheer force of the voice sent painful echoes ringing through his skull. "Do not presume to cast blame for the price of your own folly!"

The dragon paused, an angry retort hanging on his lips. What did he hope to prove that he would risk shunning the only company he might ever again receive? Was his pride truly so valuable?

"My apologies. Tell me then, how did I damn myself?"

The voice was silent for a moment, perhaps surprised that his demeanor had changed. When it spoke again, it sounded content, as though a personal victory had been won.

"You perished in Sovngarde, a realm meant for the afterlife of mortals. When slain, the presence of your soul breached a threshold the realm could not contain. The Dovahkiin could not consume you, and neither could the plane sustain you. And so you were cast into The Void."

He knew that he should choose his next words carefully. His father may not have sent him here, but there was no guarantee he would be released either.

"Can I escape," he voiced hesitantly.

"The way you came? No," the voice stated thoughtfully. "An unbound soul such as yours is too powerful to return to Aetherius, and the mortal world cannot be reached but through it."

"Then there is no hope?"

"Not here. But elsewhere… perhaps. There are other worlds than this, so far removed that even the divine can scarcely glean them. If your soul was ferried there, you would be reborn."

His brow furrowed in disbelief. "And you would permit this? It seems a foolish act when the soul in question is that of a world-ender. Why do this for me?"

"Even the blackest of hearts are worthy of redemption, especially those with a purpose to serve."

His eyes narrowed into slits. "I was fulfilling my damned purpose when I was slain by that mortal vermin of yours!"

"That purpose had become corrupt, twisted to serve your own wicked desires." The voice's tone was soft and low, as though in mourning. "You were meant to bring a merciful end to a suffering world, to be a shepherd of souls and harbinger of the next creation. My greatest pride, and a god in your own right."

"I became that god," he challenged.

"YOU BECAME A DEMON! You chose dominion over servitude, terror over love! You slew those you were meant to protect, ravaged the lands you were destined to safeguard, and devoured the souls you were entrusted to save! You cast away your divinity and sustained yourself on the essence of the dead! Zok Krosis: my greatest shame…"

He grit his teeth in the wake of his Akatosh's scorn. Was it true? Was that all he had done, all that he was a mockery and a sin?

"How would you have me repent," he hissed.

"You will be humbled," the voice intoned, "by embodying the virtues that you once scorned. In your past, you brought fear and pain upon those weaker than yourself. You demanded service and loyalty, and you cared nothing for those beneath your station. In this new world, it will be you who serves others. You will toil and labor unceasingly, and will offer and lend your aid to any in need. You will be selfless and loyal, and you will care for others above yourself. Endure this sentence, and your godhood will be restored."

Were he not in so precarious a situation, and was the speaker not the god of time itself, he would have bellowed laughter into their faces. The very idea was ridiculous! Him, the eater of souls, the scourge of the world, forced into servitude at the whims of mortals?

But the facts remained. He was still dead, and still trapped. Though it galled him to admit, he had no other choice. Besides, a life in service of lesser beings could surely be no worse than an eternity of nothingness.

"I accept," he conceded.

A low rumble was his only response, and for a time, he believed that Akatosh had simply bolstered his hopes before abandoning him once again. Those thoughts ended when he was overcome by a feeling of constriction, as if he was being crumpled inwards. His limbs jammed up against his torso, his wings snapped shut against his back, and his neck was forced to curl downwards and bunch painfully against his chest. Still the pressure built, and he tried to cry out, but he could not make a sound. It felt like he was shrinking, the pressure crushing him down to nothing.

His thoughts were becoming muddled by the pain, his body shrieking in agony. Still he heard the voice; kind, patient, the voice of the father he had long ago spurned.

"Praan Nu, your new life awaits."

A chill wrapped around him, and his body shivered at its touch. The great dragon fell limp as consciousness left him, and he knew no more.

Akatosh hung motionless in The Void, a claw wrapped protectively around what had once been his firstborn son. The dragon's soul pulsed and shook, seemingly impatient to begin its next journey. With care, he wrapped the soul in an unbreakable shell, one that even the greatest force could never mar. The god looked out across the darkened gulf to worlds beyond. So many places, so many possibilities. He stopped, his eyes fixed on a likely candidate.

Perfect.

Staunch in his choice, he affixed the soul to his bow. As he had done in ages past with Lorkhan's Heart, he drew back and let fly. A beam of light shot out into the black, and Alduin vanished from his sight.

"And… been forced… reschedule… tomorrow's meeting…unexpected…"

Celestia's head drooped as she fought to stay awake in the face of royalty's ultimate enemy: tedious meetings!

"New batch… division… terrible recruits… no sense of discipline… heads will roll…"

She barely even noticed when one speaker finished and another began. Casting a quick glance out the window, she idly wondered how stealthily she could advance the sun. Perhaps just a few hours wouldn't hurt?

The princess was startled into alertness when a blazing pinpoint of light appeared in the eastern sky. Ignoring her startled counselors, she galloped to the window, watching in shock as the light increased, its glare surpassing that of her own sun. The others soon joined her, staring up into the heavens as the light moved overhead.

"Is it a shooting star," one of the ponies asked.

Celestia made no response. Her eyes widened in horror as the object drew closer.

"No," she gasped. "A falling star."

They all watched as the light grew brighter, a plume of smoke beginning to trail away from its center. No time to warn the kingdom. No time to evacuate or prepare, only to watch and hope that it fell clear of any habitation.

Across Equestria, ponies stopped and looked to the sky in amazement. The tiny light had become a fireball, trailing smoke and dust as it sped silently across the heavens.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly it descended, and the massive layer of ice and debris that had joined it on its voyage from the stars started to crack.

It smashed through the atmosphere at thirty miles a second, its speed plummeting as it cut a swath through air and clouds.

It was streaking above Manehattan when the crust began to disintegrate. The following concussions were tremendous; a series of deafening booms cracked the sky as onlookers fell to the ground, hooves pressed to their bleeding ears.

The distance was rapidly closing between it and the earth, and its destination was quickly approaching. Only a few short miles above the ground, it barreled over Canterlot and towards Ponyville.

"It's cleared us!" One stallion's voice broke out over the noise. "Passing the village now! It might clear the mountains! Go, damn you! Go!"

"Go!" Another cheered out, as if urging the fiery missile onward. "Go, go go."

"Go," Celestia breathed as she squeezed her eyes shut.

It vanished from sight, and they heard a soft humming like a massive swarm of bees in the distance.

A pony gulped. "Is it dow-"

There was a brilliant, blinding flash like a thousand bolts of lightning striking at the same instant. A deafening roar split through the air, as if the very earth was being rent apart. The castle shuddered, heaving so violently that the assembled ponies were knocked to the floor. Dust and shards of rock fell from the ceiling as a thin jigsaw of cracks cut through the stone. The floors and walls shook, furniture and loose items sent crashing to the ground. Glass showered over them as every window in range of the shockwave was blown inwards.

There was one more tremor, and a hot and stifling wind swept through the room. Then, all was still.

Celestia pushed herself up, her hooves unsteady. Her mane was stained grey with dust, her coat scuffed and cut. She was battered and dazed, but she was alive, and the castle was standing.

"Is everyone alright?" She called out, trying to blink away the blue-white glare that still covered her vision. There was the sound of coughing, a muffled sob, but soon voices arose confirming their safety.

Celestia shook the dust from her mane. It was over. But she knew that there would be injuries and panic among her subjects. If the shockwave had caused such damage to her castle, then there would be a great many repairs to attend to in Canterlot itself.

She looked out to the mountains, her stomach clenching at the sight of a dark, mushroom shaped cloud towering overhead. And what of the rest of the kingdom? How had they fared?

A guardsman raced into the room, his armour scuffed and a stream of blood running from his forehead.

"Princess! Are you alright," he asked, looking as though he was struggling to remain upright.

"I am fine, Captain," she responded, her mind still focused on damage control. "Assemble the guard and dispatch them immediately into the city. First priority is the safety of its citizens. Medical attention and evacuation from hazardous areas. Take special caution with damaged houses, ensure that they are clear of wounded before moving on. Once the populace has been seen to, we will move on to repairs."

"Yes, Princess. Have you any further orders?"

She paused. "Who are your greatest fliers, both in speed and endurance?"

"That would be the Duskwing squadron, your majesty."

"Excellent," Celestia said. "Each member will be deployed to visit and inspect cities throughout the kingdom to ascertain the damages sustained, as well as what aid will be needed. I trust their commander can best determine where each is to be sent."

"It will be done." The stallion bowed quickly and turned to leave.

The princess sighed as she looked around the disorder that had once been her throne room.

"When I hoped for an early end to the meeting," she grumbled. "This was NOT what I had in mind."

The moon shone overhead, barely illuminating the broken remains of a mountain forest. Miles of trees had been torn from the ground, flattened and leveled as the wave of supersonic force had smashed through them.

Celestia looked out from the crater's rim, her eyes roaming over shattered wood and jagged stumps. In one terrible instant, the woodland had been turned into a wasteland. If it had been just a few miles short… if it had impacted on Ponyville…

She banished the thought from her head. Her subjects were safe. The disaster was over. The crater was a stark reminder of that. All that remained was to see it for herself.

She gazed into the depression. It was strange how perfect it seemed. Round and smooth, a stark contrast to the ruin that lay around it.

Nothing moved. The crater was as dark and silent as the forest. An indulgent chuckle escaped her lips. What had she expected? Inwardly chiding herself, she prepared to depart. Then she felt it.

It began as a mere tickle in the back of her mind, like a persistent thought that refuses to be forgotten. It was the presence of magic, and it called out to her.

Celestia turned back to the crater. Could it be? Was there truly something down there? The presence faltered, its strength guttering like a candle in a breeze. Yes. It was faint, it was unfocused, but it was there!

Her horn glowed, and the smell of ozone filled the air. The crater's floor began to crack as fused and melted rock was broken free. The debris swept upwards, a small tornado of rock forming as Celestia dug further. The magical presence was strengthening! She had almost freed it. Her pace slowed, dirt and rock were gently brushed aside and lifted away. Her eyes swept back and forth, looking for something. Anything.

Her efforts were rewarded by a sudden dash of color amidst the rock. She immediately focused on the spot, her magic honing in on the object's supernatural nature. Freeing it from the enclosure of rock, she levitated it up and into view.

"An… egg," she whispered in disbelief. It was purple, covered in spots, and too large to belong to any but a single creature. "A dragon's egg."

Celestia examined it closely, her magic rotating it slowly in the air. It seemed to have been laid some time ago, though why it had not hatched was a mystery to her. A pang of sorrow bloomed in her chest as she thought of the family that this egg surely belonged to. Where were the parents, or any siblings?

The answer, terrible as it was, seemed obvious. They had perished in the impact of the falling star. Only this egg, by chance or fate, had been spared. But how? Such a force that could level forests and burn wood to cinders should have claimed this egg as well.

The princess had no answer to that. She only knew that the egg would not survive if left by itself. She had discovered it, and so she would see to its care. Levitating it carefully upon her back, she and her new charge began the journey home.

And though she had no idea why, she had a feeling that what resided in the egg would have a very important role to play in Equestria's future.

Draconic translations-

Yol Toor Shul- Fire, Inferno, Sun. (The shout used to breathe fire.)

Kiir- Child

Mu Dahmaan Hin Zul- We remember your voice

Ko Krosis- In sorrow

Praan Nu- Rest now

My first attempt at fanfiction. Hopefully it wasn't too meager an attempt. I'm not entirely sure how much overlap is required for a story to be deemed a crossover, so hopefully I'm not screwing up by not posting it as such. All feedback is welcomed!