14th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 202
Rays of the setting sun are drawing lines on the wall in my room. I watched them lazily as I bathed.
Now, with a goblet of wine in my hand and some bread and cheese at my elbow, I’m finally able to record the phenomenal events from over the past few days.
The conference went much as Balgruuf and Arngeir predicted. Ulfric demanded Markarth, and at this point in the war, he only had Winterhold to trade. He was receiving a major hold in exchange for a minor one, and he still insisted it wasn’t enough. If it weren’t for Esbern, he would’ve walked out of the room.
While I disdain Esbern’s and Delphine’s insistence that I kill Paarthurnax, I respect Esbern for what he did for me that day. The day ended with the Stormcloak possessing Markarth and the Imperials possessing Winterhold.
Esbern then taught me how to lure a dragon to Dragonsreach. He knew the names of many dragons, and taught me one of them: Odahviing. What I didn’t realize before then, but should have, was that each dragon’s name is a shout made up of three words.
With that knowledge, and Jarl Balgruuf’s preparations, we were able to call and capture Odahviing. We conversed for a while, and he politely answered my questions.
To reach Alduin’s portal, I had to be able to fly. Odahviing agreed to let me ride him, as I had proven my Thu’um to him. I took this to mean that I had earned his respect.
As I considered this and whether to free him, Farengar introduced himself to Odahviing. At first I thought the wizard was only going to ask him questions, but then he tried to take some of the dragon’s scales and blood. Idiot!
I prepared myself for a long journey, then set Odahviing free. True to his word, he allowed me to ride him. Flying through the skies was the most exhilarating experience I’ve ever had in my life.
And fighting the draugr in Skuldafn Temple was the most harrowing battle in my life. Almost all of them were deathlords. As if ordinary draugr weren’t bad enough. At the portal itself was a powerful dragon priest that wouldn’t hold still.
Afterwards though, the vision that greeted me made it worth it.
I’ve heard and read so many stories of Sovngarde, one of them written by Kodlak in his journal. None of them even remotely did justice to the reality. I captured dozens of images, but only one developed clearly.
But paradise was marred by Alduin’s mist, trapping the souls of the fallen, preventing them from reaching Shor’s Hall.
I managed to navigate to that honored hall after passing Tsun’s test of combat. Inside I met many heroes, including the three who banished Alduin, the three whose battle I witnessed: Gormlaith, Hakon, and Felldir. Together we dispersed Alduin’s mist, and then finally defeated the World-Eater himself.
His body incinerated into nothing, and his soul dispersed into Aetherius. I suppose his soul wasn’t meant to be taken. In the end, Tsun taught me a Shout that would allow me to call a hero of Sovngarde, then returned me to the Throat of the World.
I was greeted by a half dozen dragons. I felt humbled as they acknowledged me as the Dragonborn in their own tongue. Paarthurnax was there was well, and he told me he intended to teach the dragons the Way of the Voice. I pray he’s successful.
I am tired. My battle with Alduin left me aching everywhere, but I can not rest yet. General Tullius has ordered me to assist Legate Rikke in regaining the Rift.
The civil war continues.
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