Chapter 10: The Sight of a Lost Comrade

A/N: Guess who's back! This has been a long time coming, and I apologize for that. However, i have finally gotten my inspiration to write this fic once again, so expect new chapters for this story very soon! I am really excited for the next couple of chapters and I think you will be as well after this one. Major plot points will be in this chapter, and it will only continue to go further and further. I look forward to continuing this story and promise not to abandon it again.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

"Language of the Dragons"

Disclaimer: I don't own jack, diddly, or squat. The Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda Softworks. But since we're on the subject, wouldn't it be cool to own it? Oh, that's right, you don't care...

"Why the hell should we trust you?"

"Because," the Nord woman started pulling out the item that the group had been searching for, "I have this." The Dragonborn eyed her with suspicion, but grabbed the ancient horn from her hand. He turned to look at his two comrades on either side of to see if they suspected deception when they did nothing, he nodded for the lady to continue with her explanation, "Look, I don't expect you lot to trust me right away, but at least allow me to explain myself."

"Very well," Ragar agreed, "first tell us how the horn of Jurgen Windcaller came to be in your possession, and then we may hear you out."

"Simple, I knew that you were going to grab it for those old wretches in High Hrothgar, so I swung by Ustengrav and took it, making sure that our paths would cross eventually. Although, I didn't expect you to have assistance."

"Oh, sorry," the Dovahkiin apologized, "these are two of my closest allies and friends. This is Cameron, and that is Victor."

"How in oblivion do you know the Archmage of The College of Winterhold!?" Delphine asked, an astonished look clearly evident on her face. The situation was made even more confusing for here when the man just shrugged, as if his title didn't mean that much to him.

"Long time friends, but that's not the more important matter we have to discuss."

"Right," She reasoned, "follow me, I have a better place where we can talk without having anyone overhearing something they shouldn't."

The trio nodded in unison and followed the woman to the room across from the one they were currently in, after telling the bartender to "Watch the place" she closed the door to the room that they headed into, and pulled out a strange looking key, "Alright, this should be a safe place to discuss our current situation."

Before the three men had a chance to tell her to elaborate on her statement, she stuck the key into the lock of the wardrobe she stood in front of. The sound of gears turning and mechanics clanging together sounded throughout the small room, then suddenly stopped. Delphine smirked, then pushed a button the center of the large, wooden piece of furniture, the doors swung open and the back panel slid to the side, revealing a hidden staircase, leading down into a secret room.

"Now," Delphine said, laying her hands down on the table in front of her, "let's discuss the matter at hand.

Kynesgrove

"Holy fuck!" Cameron yelled, "That's Alduin!?"

"Yes, and I was right," Delphine sighed, "that overgrown lizard is the reason all of the dragons are coming back to life!"

Ragar cursed, "Damnit, we're not strong enough to take him on. The best we can do is kill the one that he's reviving!" It was difficult to yell over the booming words of power that came from the maw of the world eater. The earth shook with great force when the last word was spoken, and a skeletal dragon claw arose from the burial site. The group watched in horror as the ancient beast crawled out from the ground, it's muscles and scaley hide growing around it as it made its way to the party.

"Hin daan los het, Dovahkiin!" The mighty beast growled, then a torrent of fire, bright as the sun, spewed from it's mouth, "Yol Toor Shul!"

"Out of the way!" The Dragonborn shouted and then he took a deep breath, "Fo Krah Diin!" A raging blizzard came from Ragar and sped towards the ray of fire. Both of the powerful shouts met in between the two companies combatants then exploded, showering the area in embers and frost. He smiled in contentment afterwards and unsheathed the greatsword strapped to his back. Cameron, Victor and Delphine appeared at his sides, weapons drawn and ready for anything, "Let's kill this bastard!"

Ragar let out a savage war cry and charged the dragon, after dodging another torrent of fire that singed the fur linings of his iron cuirass and leggings. The man leaped into the air and brought his sword down on the great beast, leaving a nasty gash across its flank.

Delphine and Cameron stayed back with the archmage to provide covering fire to their comrade, bombarding the dragon with devastating destruction spells and steel-tipped arrows. The freak-of-nature wailed as the projectiles battered and charred its hide, "Nid! Vis vir Zu'u kos pruzaan naal daal joor?!"

Just as the party begun to think that the battle was drawing to a close, a loud and deep roar, quite different from any dragon they had heard thus far, sounded throughout the area. The trees bowed as the mighty wind, swept up by the new dragon's great wings blew all around, the group was not prepared for what descended upon them.

"Hi los ahk sahlo kos aan Dovah…" a monotone voice echoed throughout the ancient gravesite, "Dir nu, paak wah mu pah." A giant ball of flame descended onto the wounded dragon and struck, making the beast howl in pain. After a moment the screams stop completely and all was silent. When the smoke cleared, only a burned corpse remained of the enemy that the group of adventurers had previously been fighting. When they looked up, a giant blood dragon flew above them and chuckled, "Dormov sends his reguards."

"What the hell?! I don't remember there ever being two dragons you have to fight!"

"Move, now!" Ragar yelled as another blazing orb fell where he was standing. The Dragonborn raised his blade and prepared for certain death as the swirling fireball of death descended upon him.

Whiterun, Jorrvaskr

"Thank you for coming to inform us of Colby's passing," Kodlak White-mane, he Harbinger of the Companions Guild, began, "he was a good man."

"I'll drink to that!" Farkas chimed in.

"There'll be a time for that, later," the Harbinger said, silencing the others in the room, "however, now is a time for grieving and remembrance. We'll hold the funeral immediately."

"Actually," the hooded man stated, "my group and I would like to hold the funeral ourselves."

"Very well, he was closer with you all. But, there is still one matter we need to discuss."

"Is there anyone from your party that'd be willing to join with us?" Vilkas asked, stepping beside his superior, "with Colby's death, we're short a shield-brother that we need to finish off the Silver Hand."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"Well, Malakia," Kodlak began, "I don't know if you've noticed, but your group has gained quite a reputation around here, in Skyrim. So much so, that we are willing to give you Colby's previous position as one of the circle."

"What?" Malakia asked in disbelief, "Are you serious?"

"Quite."

"I- I need some time to think about this."

"Take all the time you need son." Kodlak assured, bowing his head and walking out of the room.

'Holy shit…,' The Nightingale thought, biting his nails in nervousness, 'if I accept, they'll turn one of us into a beast, and they're not really putting me in a position to refuse…' the man pulled down his hood to rub his temples, his mind deep in thought in trying to find the right answer.

Everyone funneled out of the room until only Skijor and Malakia remained, "I think there is something I should tell you about the inner circle before you make that final decision."

"What is it?" Malakia asked.

"Well I'm sure you've heard the rumors about our inner circle," The Nightingale nodded, playing along with the man's assumption, "I'm going to tell you that they're true," Malakia appeared unmoved by the sudden confirmation by the harbinger of the Companions, so he asked, "Why aren't you surprised by this?"

"Well, in a world where there are giant humanoids walking around the wilderness, as well as overgrown lizards flying around, werewolves are pretty believable when it all boils down to it."

"So you know what becoming one of us entails?" The man asked, trying to get confirmation.

"Yes, I've got a pretty good idea," he answered, "and I think you'd be better off offering this to someone else in my group."

"Can you give me their name?"

Malakia smirked,"Do you know about someone by the name of Cameron."

Kynesgrove Ancient Dragon Burial Ground

Smoke and ash covered the entire area around where the fire storm had landed, and the three that had moved away from the blast, were coughing, trying to get air into their lungs that wasn't infested with ashen debris, "Is everyone alright?" Cameron asked, pulling a face mask over his mouth and nose. When Delphine and Victor groaned in response, he let out a sigh of relief, but then his eyes snapped over to where Ragar had been standing. The cloaked man ran in that direction, his eyes stinging from all of the ash in the air. He ran until he tripped over something jutting out of the ground.

"Ow…"

"Ragar! You're alive!" Cameron exclaimed, happy that his friend had not been burnt to a crisp.

"I won't be for much longer if you don't stop kicking at my side like a horse," the Dragonborn griped, "The Arch-mage cast a ward around me at the last second; I'm pretty banged up, but I'd be dead if it weren't for his quick thinking."

"Wait, Victor saved you?" Cameron questioned, before turning to where his companion lay, "Nice job dude! Way to come in, clutch!" When Victor groaned once more and gave him a weak thumbs up, he realized that the was probably almost out of it because of the drain on his stamina. Cameron shook his head and let out a chuckle before pulling out a potion of magicka, and tossing it to Delphine, who had Victor's arm slung over her shoulder for support.

"Thanks… t-this'll help," Victor said before quickly downing the magical liquid, "Woah, what a pick-me-up; that stuff really puts the metaphorical pep in your metaphorical step." He then walked over to their beaten-up companion and started to heal him with restoration magic.

"Glad you're all alright, but we still have a big problem to deal with." Delphine deadpanned, "Who in Oblivion is Dormov?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing," Ragar admitted, after standing and popping his shoulder back into place, "and last time I checked, only one dragon came out of that grave, not two."

Cameron had to agree, there was one more dragon than what was originally planned. Maybe Victor could help him research the name with his connections as the Arch mate of the college of Winterhold. He would have to let the rest of his friends know about this sometime later, because for now, he could hear the faint put beat of wings growing ever louder, "That thing is coming back!"

"We've got to get to an open field, we are at a complete disadvantage from where we stand right now. This way!"

A roar sounded after the group as they ran, as fast as their feet could carry them. They burst out of the tree line and sprinted into the open field in front of them, but the dragon, faster than they were, flew ahead of them and landed onto the ground with a thunderous crash.

Cameron tossed a few more potions to his mage friend, then drew both of his swords. Delphine and Ragar followed suit, drawing their own melee armaments, and taking position near Cameron, "Alright," the man began, unclasping his cloak and letting it fall to the ground at his feet, "let's show this gecko who's boss." He sprinted forward, his companions, excluding Victor, following close behind.

The Blood Dragon let out a deep, gravelly chuckle before a blast of fire sped towards his assailants, "Are these things all one trick ponies?" Cameron joked as he dodged to the side. He slashed at the beast's left wing, but did not get very deep with his cut against it's tough skin, "This one has a tougher hide than the last!"

The dragon launched itself into the air, beating its wings and making winds, that could be compared to hurricane force, sweep around its sword-brandishing foes. Victor saw the opportunity present itself, so he launched a couple of ice spikes at the winged demon's only weak spot, its underside. The shards of frost struck home and stabbed the beast, causing it it wail in pain and fall, to the ground. However, it stabilized in the air before the ground came to close, and it glided to the ground to engage the wizard up close. Cameron saw this then quickly drew upon his powers, teleported in front of Victor and lept at the dragon. The flying monstrosity didn't expect this, so it wasn't prepared for for the man's right sword was stabbed right into his left eye.

The dragon tumbled to the grassy field below, crying in agony as it fell. Another wave of blazing fury charged forward at the party once the beast regained its composure, "Too bad all of these things are just one-trick-ponies!" Cameron shouted as he ran towards his opponent once again, "Land the last blow Ragar!" He knelt down and allowed the Dragonborn to jump off of his back, and spring towards their foe. The burly Nord let out a fierce battle cry before his weapon was swung towards the beast's neck.

Whiterun

"Well, that was, interesting, to say the least," Malakia sighed walked down the steps in front of the companions' famous mead hall, Jorrvaskr, "but at least I have found the cure for whatever Cameron is cursed with. I don't know how he always has to be the one to get himself into stupid situations. Although, now that I think about it, being cursed with shadow isn't quite the same as getting your arm stuck in a vending machine..."

The man pulled his hood off of his head as he continued to roam the streets of the peaceful town. He still remembered a time in his life when everything that was around him was nothing more than code implemented in a game engine program, and images projected by lights inside of his monitor or television. He would never be able to get the feeling of immortality in a video game ever again, because now if you die, you die for real. There was no "respawn" where he was now; every cut, and every bruise was one hundred percent real.

'A respawn system would've been really useful when we first got here." The nightingale thought, his gaze cast onto the ground below him as he stopped his steady walk. Tears threatened to fall the more that he thought on the subject, "I miss you Ethan..." The sudden sound of war horns drew him from his sadness, all around him, citizens of the village rushed to their homes, picking up and carrying their children along the way.

"Stormcloaks!" A Whiterun guard shouted from one of the battlements, he turned around only for his eyes to meet a hurtling ball of fire, headed strait for him. The man turned to jump from the wall, but he was too late, he was dead before he had the chance to leap from his position.

"What the hell?!" Malakia shouted, "this shouldn't be happening; none of us have done these quests yet!"

a collective shout sounded off as the rebel soldiers sprinted for the walls of the ancient city. More flaming projectiles fell towards the houses, but suddenly one of them exploded and showered the area in embers and frost, "What the hell is going on around here?"

"Josh!?" Malakia yelled, quirking an eyebrow, "Why are you here?"

"I was busy punching Mikael in his bitch face for sexually harassing the beautiful women of Whiterun," The staff wielding man answered, "What are you doing here?"

Malakia was about to answer, but was interrupted by the sounds of fighting coming from the other side of the town's walls, "Never mind that right now, we have to help the imperials hold this place."

"Why should I do that? I usually side with the Stormcloaks."

"Damnit Josh, can we not do this right now, we've got enemies at the gates!" Malakia shouted.

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch," Josh chucked, "I'll keep the Catapults from hitting the houses, you go and help the Imperials." Before his friend could make a statement, Josh fired off the Wabajack once more at a ball of fire. The bolt hit the projectile, and soon, they both were showered in golden septims, "Forget about the there have to be at least ten thousand gold littering this str-"

"JOSH!"

"Only kidding, jeez," only after he pocketed a few of the coins.

The Nightingale rolled his eyes before pulling his black cowl over his head once more. He took off in the direction of the gates and sprinted outside to the front wall. Once he got to the top, his eyes widened at the sight he looked upon; thousands of Rebels stood in the field fighting thousands of Imperials.

"Holy shit..."

As he looked out across the battlefield, something was immediately evident; the Stormcloaks outnumbered the defending force three, to one. Beside him stood rows of archers that launched volley upon volley onto the ranks of their enemies. What the hell was going on? There had never been this many soldiers when he played the game. In fact, that was one of Malakia's only complaints about it. When he had first done these missions, the Skyrim civil war had felt underwhelming every time he had played it. There were a lot less warriors fighting in every battle then there seemed like there needed to be, making the war seem very unrealistic.

"Why fix it now?! Why not back in 2011 when I was sitting on a couch and playing this instead of when I have to fight for my life?!"

"Sir?" An imperial soldier questioned beside him, "Who are you yelling at?"

"Um, No one," Malakai answered. He looked at the man's armor and deduced that he was probably an officer due to his looking different than everyone else's, 'At least the simplicity of most things hasn't changed...'

"Grab a bow soldier, you're going to help us win this battle."

The hooded man nodded and grabbed a longbow propped up against the wall in front of him along with the quiver, which he strapped to his side. He might not be as good with the ranged weapon as Cameron, but he was sure that a couple of rebels would meet an untimely demise by one of his many arrows.

Malakia steadied his breath and knocked an arrow before pulling the string back and aiming at one of the men on a horse, as he knew that they were most likely higher ranks than the other fighters around them. Something caught his eye the second before he released the tension on the string of his bow. The weapon fell from his grip and clanged again the cold stone beneath his feet. Water once again was about to stream down his cheeks as he continued to stare at the familiar man on the white horse he had just looked at, "Ethan...?"

Dragon Language Translations

Hin daan los het, Dovahkiin.

Your doom is here, Dragonborn.

Nid! Vis vir Zu'u kos pruzaan naal daal joor?!

No! How can I be bested by these mortals?!

Hi los ahk sahlo kos aan Dovah.

You are to weak to be a Dragon.

Dir nu, paak wah mu pah.

Die now, shame to us all.