MAIN QUEST SPOILER ALERT: DON'T READ THIS UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE MAIN QUEST
19th of Frostfall, 4E 201
I took the Elder Scroll back to Paarthurnax and used it to look through the Time Wound and watch three ancient warriors face down Alduin. Question: What is Time? What is the difference between Past, Present and Future if I can watch an ancient battle unfold like a street fight seen through a foggy window?
I heard the ancient heroes shout Dragonrend and I understood it. The words were Mortal, Temporary, and Finite. It was like they were saying to Alduin, “You are nothing. You are fleeting and unimportant. You will die!” Alduin believed them for just a moment and the horror of it drove him out of the sky like a bird struck by a stone. Yet it did not kill him. They fought him to exhaustion, and before he could flee, they used the Elder Scroll and sucked him out of their world and straight into mine.
And then he was there, Present Day, finally taking notice of me, determined to kill me. I shouted Dragonrend at him and he fell, and Paarthurnax laid into him. I shot him with arrows between Shouts while I waited for my Thu’um to build back up, but I believe that Dragonrend is the only thing I did that he even noticed.
Just like the ancient heroes, we fought him to the point that he should have died, but then he simply flew away, telling me that he had underestimated me, but that I could not defeat him.
Paarthurnax told me that he did not know where Alduin had gone, but that his followers probably did. He said I could use Dragonreach, the castle of Whiterun, which was built as a dragon trap. I could trap the dragon, Odahviing, and then question him. I thought that task was overwhelming until I asked Jarl Baalgruff for his help, and he told me what he wanted from me first. What right have I to speak to men like Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius and demand that they agree to a ceasefire?
I did not belong at that table. As I sat down, I was seized by a desire to flee. The first fight was over whether the Thalmor ambassador should be there. Ulfric wanted her gone; Tullius insisted she was part of his team. Everyone looked at me to cast the deciding vote. I did not want to seem to be taking sides so early, but when it came right down to it, the Thalmor had no legitimate business in that room. I fear I have made an enemy of Tullius. I would rather Tullius, to say nothing of the Thalmor, never knew I existed.
Ulfric’s first demand was that he take possession of Markarth. They argued back and forth and then next thing I knew, Tullius was asking me what hold I thought the Imperials should get in exchange? I wanted to tell them, “Don’t look at me!” but it was too late for that. Honestly, I didn’t thing anyone should be exchanging territory. Bile rose in my throat as it occurred to me that Ulfric would depose the current jarl as an Imperial supporter and install the Silverbloods on that throne. Nevertheless, my responsibility was to keep these negotiations going, and Ulfric was willing to leave if he did not get his way, while Tullius was willing to talk about an exchange.
My first thought was Riften. It was a similar sized city, located on the Cyrodiil border, but then I realized that the Imperials would put Maven Blackbriar on that throne, and that was just too much for me. I suggested Dawnstar—it’s the only hold I’ve never visited, so I knew of no reason not to let it change hands. Tullius again told me I was favoring the Stormcloaks, but at the end of the day, the Imperials walked away with the entire coastline, leaving the Stormcloaks landlocked. I wondered if I had not inadvertently favored the Imperials.
After negotiations broke up, Delphine pulled me aside and told me that Paarthurnax needed to die, because he was a dragon and all dragons must die. There was no arguing with her. She said that unless I killed him myself, that was the last I would see of the Blades. Damn it! It is not right to judge someone based on their race, rather than their actions! I have seen that too much in my life. I walked away without even pretending to promise her anything.
I did not know what form of trap Dragonreach might be. I imagined it as a vast dungeon into which a dragon could be lured with bait, like an animal into a box trap. Actually, the back courtyard of the castle is a gigantic set of stocks. I called to him, and Odahviing was drawn in, and the stocks slammed shut across his neck. Until it happened, I didn’t even recognize what I was seeing.
I have never been so scared as when I stood right in front of Ohahviing’s breathe and bargained with him. He was not like Paarthurnax. When talking to Paarthurnax, wisdom is the first thing I sensed. Odahviing was wild, proud, and indignant. I found him devoid of morality, but not without honor. Odahviing explained that Alduin had gone to Sovngarde, the Land of the Dead, to feed on the souls of dead heroes. Saying that he had begun to question Alduin’s leadership since I bested him at Throat of the World, he offered to carry me to Skuldafn Temple—Alduin’s gateway to Sovngarde—if I let him loose. I was torn. I was terrified to let him go, but the idea of riding on a dragon’s back…! In the end, I realized I really had no choice—there was no other way to get there.
I will probably dream for the rest of my life of flying like a dragon.
Sovngarde! Land of the Dead. My first sight of it felt familiar. It reminded me of when I first stepped out of that cave onto the mountainside after escaping from Helgen, except that then I had been filled with confusion and anxiety, whereas now, I felt only peace and safety. The sky was what set it apart from Nirn. The sun stood in the center of the sky, shining down a tunnel of clouds and aurora, as from the mouth of a vast cavern or the eye of a storm.
The sense of safety disappeared as I descended into a clinging, dripping mist of gray hopelessness. Soldiers, both Imperial and Stormcloak, wandered lost and confused on the path. Alduin circled endlessly overhead, swooping low, never attacking, but the warrior souls seemed to diminish whenever he came close until eventually, they were so lost in terror they could no longer make sense or even follow me. After a short eternity, I came to a bridge made of an immense dragon skeleton, guarded by a hulking, shirtless, beardless warrior named Tsun. He seemed sort of slow, like those boys who grow to be men in body, but never in mind. Tsun told me he guarded the hall of Sjor, where I could find all the heroes of Skyrim’s history. I asked to enter, and he told me I must first pass his test. He drew his war hammer. I knew I did not have the rage to fight him, so I ran. I tried once to sneak past him, but while crossing the bridge, I started to feel the life drain out of me, so I turned back.
I climbed the mountainside to think. I don’t know how long I remained there. The sun does not move in Sovngarde; the light never changes. There is no such thing as day and night. It was the changelessness that finally gave me what I needed to fight him. I was not ready to face eternity, and knew that I must defeat Tsun or lose myself like the warriors in the mist.
I returned to the bridge and released my rage. My vision blurred and the world turned red. I hacked at him until he should have fallen, but he merely sheathed his weapon and invited me to cross. Ysgramir himself greeted me as I entered the hall.
The three heroes from the scene at the other end of the Time Wound followed me outside to challenge Alduin. We shouted Clear Skies to blow away the mist. Alduin brought it back. We shouted it away again, and again. Finally Alduin attacked us, calling shooting stars down from the sky to kill us. We fought him together until he fell. His body burned and his soul… I don’t know where his soul went. I don’t think I absorbed it. Perhaps it burned with his body.
The three ancient heroes thanked me and went back to the hall. Tsun stopped me to tell me it was time to go home, with a gift from Sjor. He taught me a shout that I could use to call upon one of the ancient heroes whenever I needed help. Then he shouted me back to Throat of the World.
The sky and the rocks are filled with dragons, confused, anxious, crying out that Alduin is no more. I want to find Paarthurnax, but there are so many dragons, I don’t know which way to turn. Finally, I see him, but as I approach him, Odahviing lands with a crash in front of me. He will not move aside for me, but he allows Paarthurnax to speak first, as though acknowledging Paarthurnax’s seniority.
Paarthurnax congratulates me. I tell him what Delphine had said—that I should not trust him. Paarthurnax replies that the Blades are right not to trust him—that power calls out to him, and that he follows the Way of the Voice to struggle against its call. He asks me if I can hear that call as well. Says he was born evil and has spent his life trying to overcome it. He tells me he will try to teach the Way of the Voice to the other dragons, but he does not know how many will come.
Then Odahviing tells me that I have proven myself to him, and I can call on him when I need help. The idea is heady. He will help me, though he will not stand aside to let me pass. I think I have gained a powerful but dangerous and unpredictable ally.
I am not sure I believe anyone can truly be born evil. Paarthurnax must have great Good in him to have followed the path he has. I believe the world is a richer place with him in it. In fact, I believe the world is a richer--although more dangerous--place with Odahviing in it.
I will miss the Blades—Esbern and Delphine, and any that join them. Or rather, I will miss what I imagine they could have been, which perhaps exists nowhere but in my mind.
Question: I have been to Sovngarde and I have visited the ancient Nord heroes. I can call one of them back to the land of the living to fight by my side. What then, is mortality? Alduin is no more. His soul is gone, while the heroes go on feasting in Sjor’s hall forever. Who then is temporary and who is infinite?
Question: Will I go to the Hall of Valor when I die? Or is there a separate place for orcish heroes? What is it like, if so? What about smiths and thieves, shopkeepers and scholars? Do they have a place?
Four months ago, my entire life was spent within a few arrow shots of the walls of a single city. Since then, I have crossed and re-crossed Skyrim, climbed the highest mountain in the land, gazed into the past and travelled to the Land of the Dead. Four months ago, I was the leader of a petty street gang with delusions of grandeur. Two months ago to the day, my head was bent over the chopping block, and I believed my life was over. Today I am Dovahkiin, dragon-blooded warrior skilled in archery, magery, melee and mayhem, savior of the World. Four months ago, I didn’t even know it needed saving. Now that job’s been done, and the World looks like it might just go on about the way it always has.
Question: What do I do now?
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