Author's Note: Tiid is the Dragon word for "Time"

Hello, dear readers! I know that I've been MIA for the longest time now, so I thought I'd give you an update on what's happened in my life. I've graduated from college and I finally have my Bachelor's Degree in Creative Writing! Now, recently, I've been trying to find a job, but it's been tough, and I finally hauled my ass and actually got myself to write. I also have other stories down the pipeline, and you'll be seeing perhaps some Kuroshitsuji or Tekken fanfiction coming your way, if any of you are interested.

But I digress. To celebrate my return and the continuation of Vanya's story, I have made a long chapter and will post the next one tomorrow! As always, read, enjoy, and review!

Chapter Fifteen: Tiid (Time)

I looked out of the window of my room, watching as more snow fell on the stone steps and surfaces that made up the courtyard outside. I sighed, remembering the times I trained in the courtyard of Jorrvaskr. How long had been since my hasty departure from Whiterun?

Turning away and facing the mirror, I carefully braided my hair, taking care to make sure that it somewhat still covered my ears. I had to smile a little to myself, knowing that once I got downstairs I was going to be reprimanded again.

"You don't have to do that anymore, Vanya. We do not judge one based on their heritage."

"Old habits are bad at break."

"Nevertheless, you must learn. You are the Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn."

The cold air blew through the slightly opened window and I moved to close it, realizing that I had probably dallied too long. This wasn't Jorrvaskr, I reminded myself. It would not do to be impolite to your hosts.

As I crossed the room to the chair where my fur coat was draped over, I glanced at the scrolls laid out on the desk. The sharp, angular lines that made up the dragon language looked back at me and another scroll containing their translations in my unruly script was tucked beside it.

"Novul bron, dahmaan daar rot," I read aloud from one of the scrolls I had managed to translate. "Noble Nord, remember these words…"

The rest of the passage still needed to be translated, and I wasn't entirely sure if I was pronouncing everything right. Deciding to leave off studies until after dinner, I put on my fur coat and headed downstairs.

"Morning," she said cheerfully as she stepped into the dining hall.

They looked up from their plates and nodded at me. Dressed in their long, grey robes, the Greybeards kept to themselves in this stone fortress called High Hrothgar. There were only four of them living here, and out of the four, only one could actually speak to me.

"Good morning, Vanya," Arngeir said.

I slipped into my seat and reached for a plate of potatoes. "I managed to translate one passage last night, and start a new one."

The old man smiled. "You learn quickly, Dovahkiin, soon you will master not only the Thu'um, but also the language of the dragons."

Arngeir began to teach me the dragon language a few days after I arrived at High Hrothgar. Out of the four Greybeards, he is the only one who could speak without causing danger. The other three, Arngeir explained, could not control their voices, and even the slightest whisper could kill.

As I looked down at my plate, I remembered the warmth of the large fire at the center of Jorrvaskr's dining hall, remembered Tilma's cooking and her scolding those who didn't come up for meals on time. Farkas's face came to mind and pain thudded in my chest.

How long had it been since I left Whiterun?

Sed tikke.

Three months.

Three long months and still I felt the pains of his rejection as if they were fresh wounds. And yet I still couldn't bring it upon myself to hate him. Deep down, I knew that it was my fault for deceiving him and the others. On some nights I would wake up and wonder where I was, then realize that I wasn't in Jorrvaskr.

Not home.

"Vanya?" Arngeir's voice brought me back to reality. "Dovahkiin, are you all right?"

"A-ah, yeah," I said quickly. "I was just remembering the Shouts you all taught me."

"Ah. Unrelenting Force and Whirlwind Sprint?"

I nodded. "But you said that there was one more Word you needed to teach me."

He nodded. "Yes, the last word for Unrelenting Force. You have already learned the first two words and have taken their understanding into yourself. You're becoming an excellent Dovahkiin." He smiled. "However, before I teach you the last word of Unrelenting Force, we will have one more trial."

"What do I need to do?" I asked puzzled.

"We need you to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller."

Jurgen Windcaller…I had read that name before in one of the books Arngeir had given me. But as the book was written in dovahgulz, the dragon language, I was a slow reader.

"The name sounds familiar," I said slowly.

"He was the founder of the Greybeards," Arngeir said. "And as your final trial as the Dragonborn, you must go to Ustengrav, his final resting place, and retrieve his horn. Once you have done this, you will be deemed ready to know the final Word of Unrelenting Force."

I stared at him. It had been three months since I had last seen the rest of Skyrim. Food and supplies were delivered from the village at the foot of the mountain, and I spent my days in High Hrothgar training and studying. I sometimes visited the village as well, but never went beyond it. It was then I realized that I missed traveling and seeing the rest of my homeland.

"I'll be back here as soon as I can," I promised. "I still have the rest of those damn books to translate."

He bristled slightly at my "coarse language", as he put it. "Be careful, Dovahkiin."

The journey down the mountain was as difficult as it was going up, as far as I remembered. Keeping my hands inside my fur cloak, the hood raised to shield me from the frigid winds, I slowly made my way down the path that led to the village. In the sun, the snow was almost blinding, and I could barely make out the stone steps. Muttering to myself the words in dovahgulz I had learned in order to practice, I made my way to the foot of the mountain. The innkeeper in the village had been kind enough to take care of my horse while I was in the mountains, provided that he could use him for some small tasks such as carrying heavy loads, to which I obliged.

"Come on, boy," I said softly as I petted my steed and hoisted myself up on the saddle. "It's time to go adventuring again."

O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O

Ustengrav was a long way from the Throat of the World, though I did not mind the distance. Riding past the fields, lakes, forests, and towns, I felt like I was seeing my homeland again for the first time. How the Greybeards manage to stay locked away in the mountains, I didn't know. I breathed in the cool air, and deep within, the pulse of adventure in my veins was dancing with joy.

Night had fallen by the time I spotted the cairn. Judging by the crude campfire and sleeping bags near the entrance, I was expecting some company inside. I drew my sword.

"Back into the fire," I said to myself.

The familiarity of exploring an old tomb surged back the moment I saw the rogues who had taken refuge inside. Some necromancers, mages, and…my not-so-favorite things to fight, draugr.

"I love adventuring," I said to myself as I dispatched another group of ancient bones, "but honestly, why must every underground place have roaming dead things about?"

After a while, I found myself in a cavern with a waterfall at the far end. And next to it was a wide expanse of rock, etched with what I now recognized as words in the dragon language.

A Word Wall… I thought as I slowly approached.

Wind began to blow, and I heard a sort of chanting in my head. As I got closer, the wind blew faster, and one word began to pulse with a strange light. I reached out, trying to discern what the word said, and the lights swirled out and wrapped around me.

"Feim…" I read slowly.

What did it mean? I didn't have any dragon souls within me. I tried to read the entire wall to pick any clues on what my new Shout was, but many of them were still unfamiliar to me. Deciding to ask the Greybeards later, I continued on my quest.

Ustengrav was very well planned, with traps and puzzles. As I went deeper into the depths, I began to miss having someone with me. The silence of the tomb was deafening, broken only with the occasional gurgle of a draugr or the sound of a trap activating.

Shield-Sibling.

It was a name I had begun to miss being called. My hand went to my ears and I sighed. I would still be one of the Companions if I had told the truth. Still be with Farkas…

"Stop thinking about him" I scolded myself. "He never gave you a chance to explain. He hates you. Everyone probably does." And you deserve it for not telling the truth.

After another set of traps, I beheld a chamber with four huge statues rising out from the water that lined the sides of the room. A stone bridge was before me, leading to the far end. Keeping my sword ready, I crossed it.

A stone sarcophagus lay on the other end of the bridge. A hand stuck out in the middle of it, clutching something. The horn! I rushed towards it, eager to see the fabled horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

Instead of the horn, nestled in the palm of the hand was a note.

"Huh?" I checked the surrounding areas of the sarcophagus. No sign of the horn or anything that could resemble a horn. I picked up the note and opened it.

"Dragonborn,

I need to speak to you. Urgently.

Rent the attic room in the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.

A friend"

I stared at the note for a few seconds. Rage filled my vision and I crumpled the note up.

"Shor's teeth! Are you kidding me?! I went through all that and the horn isn't even here?!"

My voice echoed off the walls. I didn't care how many draugr heard and were coming for me. To go through all those traps and puzzles and be rewarded with nothing, nothing!

"Is there a Shout that can properly express what I'm feeling right now?!" I seethed. "But fine! Whoever you are, I'll play your game. And if I find out you lost the horn, I am going to…hurt you really badly."

O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O

I was grumbling and muttering to myself the entire trip to Riverwood. The thief was forcing me to travel another couple of nights, all because he wanted to speak to me. Then again, I was puzzled. How did he know that I was going to Ustengrav? How did he navigate through all those traps and puzzles?

"On the bright side, it's been a while since I last saw Gerdur," I said. "I haven't had the opportunity to properly thank her for her help."

It was dawn by the time I arrived at the familiar gate of Riverwood. I tethered my horse to a nearby tree and walked towards the inn. It was quiet, not a lot of people around. The fire was crackling away at the center, and the barkeep was busy cleaning. I looked around, wondering if the person I was supposed to meet was here.

It was then I noticed a woman with hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a plain work dress. She seemed to be the innkeeper, so I approached her.

"I'd like to rent the attic room," I said softly. I held out a few coins.

Her gaze was piercing, though she took the money. "Attic room, eh? Well…we don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home."

She walked away, leaving me bewildered. No attic room? Then where was I supposed to meet the thief?

Still extremely confused, I went to the room she pointed out. It was a plain, small room with a single bed. Sitting on it, I pondered on my next course of action. Arngeir would kill me if I didn't return with the horn. And all the clues I had was the note the thief left. I didn't know who he was and what he was playing at, but this was getting more and more frustrating by the second.

"So, you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about."

At the sound of the voice, I drew my sword. Standing before me, her arm raised up in a peace gesture, was the innkeeper I had just spoken to. She was closing the door behind her.

"Who are you?!" I demanded.

The woman reached behind her and brought out a small object. "I think you're looking for this."

I peered at it. It was the horn! She held it out to me and I snatched it from her, stowing it into my pack.

"My name is Delphine," she said. "We need to talk."

"Vanya," I said slowly. "And what's this about?"

"Follow me."

She opened the door a little and looked around. Then, she motioned to me. Still wary, I followed her to the other side of the inn. She steps inside another empty room and goes to the tall closet.

"Close the door."

I did as she was told and she started fumbling with something inside the closet. I heard a catch release and the back part of the closet opens, revealing steps that lead further down.

What is with all the secrets today? I wondered.

Delphine lead me down into another room. At the center was a table with a few maps and papers. On one side of the room was a shelf full of ingredients and an alchemy lab. There was also a training dummy and a few weapons lying around. Whoever Delphine was, she was no mere innkeeper.

"Now we can talk," she said. "The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right."

"You're the one who took the horn?" I asked, still bewildered.

Delphine chuckled. "Surprised? I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act."

"Well, here I am" I said irritably. "What do you want?"

"I didn't go through all this trouble on a whim. I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap." She glanced at my ears.

"I'm half-elf," I hissed. ""Don't ask me about the ears, I was just born with them. My mother was a Nord. Now, let me ask again…what do you want?"

"I'm not your enemy. I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out."

What I actually wanted to say was: "I'm sorry, I had to go through hell to get to the horn, which I found wasn't there, had to get back out of said hell, and travel halfway across Skyrim. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in about three days. So, forgive me if I'm not at the best of moods right now."

But what actually came out of my mouth was: "Go on, I'm listening."

"Like I said in my note," she continued, "I've heard that you might be Dragonborn. I'm part of a group that's been looking for you…well, someone like you for a very long time. If you really are Dragonborn that is. Before I tell you anymore, I need to make sure I can trust you."

"I could say the same to you," I said. "I am the Dragonborn. So, tell me, why did you take the horn from Ustengrav?"

"I knew the Greybeards would send you there if they thought you were Dragonborn. They're nothing if not predictable. When you showed up here, I knew that you were the one the Greybeards sent, and not some Thalmor plant."

"Ugh, please, don't mention them."

The Thalmor seemed to be another thing I couldn't run from. Another thing that alarmed me was how well-informed Delphine was about my whereabouts. No one knew I came to the Greybeards three months ago, outside of the people in the village at the foot of the mountain.

"How do I know to trust you?" I asked.

"If you don't trust me, you were a fool to walk in here in the first place."

"Good point. And so why are you looking for the Dragonborn?"

"We remember what most don't – that the Dragonborn is the ultimate dragonslayer. You're the only one that can kill a dragon permanently by devouring its soul."

"Sounds a lot more gruesome when you describe it, but yes, that's fairly accurate."

"So, can you do it? Devour a dragon's soul?"

"I don't physically eat it, if that's what you're asking. Though, yes, it's how I first learned I was Dragonborn."

She smiled. "Good. And you'll have a chance to prove it to me soon enough."

Her smile unsettled it. It seemed a little too eager.

"And what's the part you're not telling me?" I asked.

"Dragons aren't just coming back. They're coming back to life. They weren't gone somewhere for all these years. They were dead, killed off centuries ago by my predecessors. Now something's happening to bring them back to life, and I need you to help me stop it."

I stared at her. "Do you have any idea how crazy that all sounded just now?"

She chuckled and gave a little nod. "A few years ago, I almost said the same thing to a colleague of mine. Well, it turned out that he was right and I was wrong."

"And what makes you think they're coming back to life? It could be some crazy necromancer."

"I know they are. I've visited their ancient burial mounds and found them empty. No signs of necromancy. No power could fully raise a creature that big from the dead and maintain it. I've figured out where the next one will come back to life." She looks triumphant. "We're going to go there, and you're going to kill that dragon. And if we succeed, I'll tell you everything you want to know."

I had a choice in running away from this seemingly crazy woman and going back to the Greybeards with the horn. But a part of me loved the idea of hunting a dragon once more. There was a Shout in my head that I couldn't say, and I hungered to learn it. To use it.

"Where are we headed?" I asked.

She pointed to the map before her. "Kynesgrove. There's an ancient dragon burial near there. If we can get there before it happens, maybe we'll learn how to stop it. I think we have a few days before it happens. There's a time lapse between the stirrings and I think I have the pattern down."

"All right, but first things first. I have to get this horn to the Greybeards."

"I can't sit here and wait around for you. I'll meet you in Kynesgrove. You know where it is?"

"I have my own map, I can find it easily. I'll meet you there."

O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O

Thank the Divines that the Throat of the World was nearer to Riverwood than Ustengrav was. The moment I reached the tall fortress, I rushed to find Arngeir. He was seated in one of the nearby benches, meditating.

"Arngeir! I have it! I have the horn!" I said breathlessly, holding it out.

He looked up and his face broke into a smile. "Ah! You've retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Well done, you have now passed all the trials. Come with me. It's time we recognized you formally as Dragonborn."

He led me back to the center of the hall, back to where I learned the other words for Unrelenting Force and Whirlwind Sprint. The other Greybeards were also assembled, and I looked at them, wondering what ritual was going to happen.

"You're ready to learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, "Dah", which means "Push"."

One of the Greybeards stepped forward.

"Dah," he said softly.

His breath seemed to take shape and the word was etched on the stone floor before me.

"With all three words together, this Shout is much more powerful," came Arngeir's voice. "Use it wisely."

I stared at the word, let it form into my mind. But, as I still didn't have any dragon souls within me, I could not use it as a Shout.

"Master Wulfgar will now gift you with his knowledge of "Dah"."

Wulfgar, the one who had said "Dah" at the beginning, turned to me and spread his arms wide. I felt the wind blow and saw lights spiraling outwards from him towards me. I felt the power welling up inside me, and all fatigue seemed to have vanished. It was the same feeling I had when I had absorbed a dragon soul the first time…and I've forgotten how empowering it felt.

"Thank you," I said.

"You have completed your training, Dragonborn," Arngeir said. "We would Speak to you."

"Speak?"

"Stand between us and prepare yourself. Few could withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards. But you are ready."

Wait, what were they going to do? Were they going to bombard me with Shouts? Was it to test my strength? How could my body withstand their combined Voices? But Arngeir's gaze was reassuring, and I did as I was told. I braced myself for whatever it was that was coming.

And their Voices echoed off the walls, the floor beneath me shaking. Their chat rattled my very core, sent chills down my spine. But I forced myself to stay still, to listen, though every fiber of me, wanted to get away, so great was the force of their Voices.

"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau.

Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth.

Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok!"

It was only later when I had studied further did I understand what it all meant:

"Long has the Storm Crown languished with no worthy brow to sit upon?
By our breath, we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of old.
You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it!"

As suddenly as it began, the rumbling stopped and all was at peace once more. I stood, slightly shaking, but otherwise unharmed. Arngeir stepped forward and bowed.

"Dovahkiin, you have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you."

I managed to smile. "Does it mean…I can come back anytime and I study some more?"

"Of course, Vanya. It would do me honor to tutor you some more."

I glanced at the stairs that lead to my room. "I think…I would like to rest. After all that has happened today. And perhaps I'll go through those scrolls I haven't finished translating."

"Your room here will always be for your use, Vanya."

I nodded gratefully and I was about to walk up the stairs when there was a loud, thundering knock. Gesturing to Arngeir that I would get it, I raced towards the doors and opened one the tiniest bit. Outside was a man dressed in furs, whom I recognized to be one of the inhabitants in the village.

"Yes?" I asked puzzled.

"Dragonborn," the man said. "There's someone in the inn looking for you. They would not tell us their name, but said to come and get you. They want to speak with you immediately."

Was it Delphine? I wondered. Don't tell me that she actually came to drag me to Kynesgrove?

"We better leave now while the snow if still light," the man said.

"All right," I said. I kept my sword ready, in case that this was not as it seemed.

As we made our way down the mountain, I pressed the man on who had sent for me, but he kept his mouth shut. Though there was a knowing gleam in his eyes. Not the malicious kind, but something that indicated that he knew something that I didn't.

"I'll leave you here, Dragonborn," the man said once we reached the inside of the inn. "He's waiting for you in that room there." He pointed to a door at the far end. He smiled reassuringly. "He won't hurt you."

"You'd be surprised how much that has backfired on me," I muttered as he left.

I approached the door and pressed my ear against the wood, listening hard. Nothing. No sound coming from the inside whatsoever. Keeping my hand ready to draw my sword, I reached for the knob and pushed the door open.

"Hello, Vanya."

I stiffened as I heard that familiar voice. Farkas sat on the chair at the end of the small room, his face unreadable.