Chapter 48: Whirlwind
"When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an Inborn ability to learn Words of Power." Arngeir muttered as Master Einarth stepped forward and lifted his hands before whispering the Word.
Ro!
The sound cracked like a ripple through water, and the floor shuddered. A faint shockwave spread outward. Leaving glowing script etched across the stone, characters similar to the ones written on the Word Wall in Bleak Falls.
"Ro means Balance in the dragon's tongue," Arngeir explained as I stepped closer, drawn by the light. My vision blurred as the system stirred to life.
"Combine it with Fus- 'Force', to focus your—" he paused.
System Prompt: New Word of Power Learned: Balance, Unrelenting Force:
The glowing symbol dissolved in an instant. Arngeir's expression flickered—something between surprise and envy, before his composure returned. "You learn a new word as if you were born to it. Few masters could match such swiftness.r" He cleared his throat.
"But learning a Word of Power is only the first step… You must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn a Shout. For you… There is another way." Arngeir said, gesturing toward Master Einarth once again.
"As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will allow you to tap into his understanding of 'Ro',"
Einarth opened his arms. Light spilled from him like fog in sunlight, gold-edged and heavy. It wrapped around, seeping into my chest. The sensation was like standing before a Word Wall, just less blinding, but no less vast. My breath caught as the weight of Balance sank into my bones.
Behind me, in a few feet' distance, were Lydia and Uthgerd. "Do you think they'll teach us, if we ask nicely?" Uthgerd asked, her weight shifting on her left hip, arms folding in front.
"No." Lydia simply answered, breaking Uthgerd's heart, "Besides, can you spend years meditating? To learn a single word?" Lydia said, calm and silence weren't exactly Uthgerd's strongest suits.
Uthgerd exhaled through her nose, "True, that'll be boring," she muttered, but totally worth it.
"Now, let us see how quickly you can master your Thu'um." Arngeir's voice echoed in the hall as Master Einarth retreated, having bestowed me the 'meaning' of the Word.
"Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear."
Master Borri moved toward the center before voicing the Words.
Fiik… Lo… Sah!
A shimmering figure flickered into being before me, a mirror of Borri himself, beard, robes, and all, yet ghostly and bright as flame.
I shifted, facing the shade, as I prepared myself for the second shout. I can do this, I can do this, I prepared myself, not wanting to spit out blood like the numerous times before, I had already shouted once.
My hands at my side were already casting [Healing] just to be on the safe side.
Fus… Ro!
The Shout thundered forward, ripping my lungs. The phantom stumbled, faltered, and vanished. My vision blurred; even if for a fraction of a second, I could taste iron in my mouth. The [Healing] worked swiftly, but the sting still lingered in my throat.
"Well done, again," Arngeir said as Master Wulfgar stepped forward, Are you kidding me.
Another phantom.
Fus… Ro!
The shade collapsed in on itself, fading to nothingness with a low wail that rattled my bones. My breath was sharper this time, harsher, like it had been carved on the way out.
"Excellent. Once more." Argneir muttered
Master Einarth strode forward, silent as ever, and conjured his own shade with a single breath.
I exhaled through my nose, keeping my mouth shut, as my Magicka drained from the continuous use of [Healing] Last one.
Fus… Ro!
The shout burst forth, raw and jagged. The phantom reeled, stumbled, then vanished into sparks that flickered out against the cold stone floor.
Silence.
"Impressive, Dragonborn. Your Thu'um is precise." Arngeir's measured words did little to soothe the pain tearing at my throat. My hands twitched at my sides.
Such a shitty plot device.
"We will perform your next trial in the courtyard," Arngeir continued, gesturing toward the carved stone steps they'd descended. The other Greybeards moved as one, their robes whispering along the floor.
I nodded slowly, my body not quite obeying the way it had minutes ago.
Then—
A hand settled on my shoulder, warm and light.
I turned, finding Lydia standing behind me, "Are you alright?" she asked softly, her voice sharp with concern, like always. Before I could muster a reply, her palm brushed my cheek, cloth dabbing blood from the corner of my mouth. Her frown deepened. "You're bleeding."
"It's nothing… honey," I muttered, trying to hold back a laugh. My throat rasped on the word, but the joke slipped out before I could stop it. Lydia's brows twitched at the shift in tone more than what I'd called her.
Behind her, Uthgerd's voice cut in, edged with unexpected care. "Will you be able to do this? We can ask them to continue tomorrow."
I shook my head, drawing forth a healing potion from the inventory before emptying it, "I'll be alright," I said as I strode after the Greybeards.
I need to do this as soon as possible, before Alduin awakens every single dragon on Nirn.
—High Hrothgar Courtyard
The heavy stone door groaned open, spilling us into the courtyard. Snow stretched endlessly across the almost flat expanse, glittering under the pale light.
Our eyes, however, were drawn to the watchtower that loomed like a sentinel ahead, and further still, to the gentle stairway leading higher up the mountain. The path was sealed by a wall of swirling frost, a blue white blizzard that howled unnaturally, as though no weather of the world had birthed it, but rather some spell or relic's curse.
At the foot of the stairs, the sacred hearth burned stubbornly against the mountain's chill, its flames snapping at every gust.
To the left stood a freestanding iron gate, black and scarred, its hinges shrieking whenever the wind rattled it.
The Greybeard gathered ahead, silent as stone pillars until Arngeir raised his voice, the low thunder of it carrying across the courtyard.
"Now we shall see how you fare with a Shout you do not yet know."
He gestured to Borri, who stepped forward.
"Master Borri will teach you. 'Wuld' meaning 'Whirlwind'."
I inclined my head and stepped closer. Borri looked to the ground, whispering the Word onto the dirt not yet covered in snow.
It wasn't like the Unrelenting Force; it was different, quiet, and quick.
System Prompt: New Word of Power Learned: Whirlwind, Whirlwind Sprint:
It vanished before it had the time to shine.
Arngeir's voice cut through the air, the surprise? same as it was before.
"Now we will see how swiftly you can master a Shout. Master Wulfgar will demonstrate. Then, it will be your turn."
He turned to Borri, who moved toward the gate and stood beside it, waiting.
Wulfgar placed himself next to us, aligned to the pillar standing at a distance from the iron gate.
Bex!
Borri's Shout struck the iron, and the gate groaned open. In the same breath, Wulfgar's voice thundered—
Wuld… Nah… Kest!
The shout cracked the air like a thunderclap. The gate jolted open as if struck, and Wulfgar was gone in an eye-blink, his form streaking past in a blur of speed. Snow erupted from the ground in his wake, spraying skyward like thrown dust, followed by a concussive boom! that echoed in the courtyard.
Fuck yeah.
Beside me, uthgerd's hard, scar-cut face broke into something almost childish—eyes wide, mouth parted, a fighter's grin tugging at her lips as though she'd just glimpsed the kind of weapon men would kill kingdoms for.
Lydia, though—her reaction was the opposite. She swallowed hard, her gauntleted hand tightening around her shield strap until the leather creaked. She hadn't even seen him move. One blink, and Wulfgar was already beyond the gate, standing calm, as if he'd merely taken a step.
"Dragonborn."
Arngeir's voice dragged us out of our awe like a bell tolling in fog. He beckoned me forward with a tilt of his head. I walked to him, boots crunching in the snow, and took my place at his side.
"Ready?" Arngeir asked.
I nodded, a grin stretching despite myself. "Just catch me before I fall off that cliff."
Bex!
The gate swung open.
Wuld!
My vision warped. The world stretched, smearing like wet pain, a pressure slamming against my face as if the wind itself had grabbed me by the skull. My stomach lurched, my limbs blurred, snow and stone whipping past in a rush of impossible speed. For a hard beat, I wasn't running, wasn't even on the ground, I was just—gone.
Then—impact. My boots struck frost-hard stone, skidding forward, knees nearly buckling with the momentum. My lungs heaved, burning as if I'd sprinted leagues in a single breath.
I dragged in the cold air, turned, and saw them watching. Uthgerd wore a woflish smirk, arms folded, eyes shining with pride. Lydia, on the other hand, loosened her grip on her shield only after seeing I was upright, and not on the ground vomiting blood, her relief quiet but sharp.
Arngeir's voice broke the silence. "I heard the tales of the Dragonborn's gifts, but to see it with my own eyes… " He shook his head, "Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is astonishing."
I forced a shrug. "I thought it was this easy for everyone."
Arngeir's gaze sharpened. "No. Indeed not. But beware that your power does not outstrip your wisdom."
I nodded, I couldn't agree more.
"What's next?" I asked.
At the edge of my vision, Lydia flinched, her hand twitching near her shield strap. Any more of this, and he'll collapse, she thought, worry written plain across her face.
"You are ready for your next trial," Anrgier said, his voice low and steady. "Retrieve the Horn of Jürgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient face of Ustengrav."
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Read +3 or +5 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
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