//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: A Lesson Atop the World // Story: The Equine Scrolls: SkyFiM // by FireOfTheNorth //------------------------------// Chapter XII: A Lesson Atop the World “Louder . . . yay.” “Louder! . . . yay.” “LOUDER! . . . yay!” “You know who I am?” I asked the pony standing before me. “But of course,” he said, “We make a point to know all we can about a pony before we take the step of summoning them to our monastery.” “But . . . how? Do you ever leave here?” “Of course not,” he said, frowning, “Ours is a life of seclusion and meditation. News of the outside world we receive through visions, when we see them. However, those are few and far between. But, from time to time the Equines speak to our master Paarthurnax and we learn what is most important through him.” I nodded my understanding. They didn’t seem to be willing to divulge too many of their secrets just yet. I would have to bide my time and do what I came here to do: learn. “Are you ready to begin your training?” the Greymane asked, meeting my eyes with his intense stare. “I thought you’d never ask,” I said, and stepped inside High Hoofgar. The interior of the monastery seemed bare in comparison to the outside. Instead of polished marble, the walls were rough-cut stone. Torches burned at infrequent intervals, causing the building to appear almost gloomy. It certainly seemed that, in addition to a life of seclusion, the Greymanes lived a life of minimalism. Raising a mallet, the pony who’d let me in rang a gong, whose peal reverberated through the monastery. Soon three other ponies, all wearing identical blue robes, trotted slowly into the room. Two were mares, one with an orange coat and the other pale green, and the other was a snow-white stallion. All of them had manes as grey as steel, obviously the remainder of the Greymanes. Along with the pony who’d let me in, they formed a circle around the edges of the room. “These are the Masters of our order,” the brown stallion said, motioning toward the other assembled Greymanes, “Master Yorri, Master Midnight-Flame, and Master Summer’s Dawn.” “Pleased to meet you,” I said, bowing to these great ponies. They bowed slightly back but made no response. “Forgive them if they do not speak,” the brown pony spoke again, “After so long of dedicated study of the Voice, they cannot speak without using it, and are liable to tear you apart if they speak. Of our order, only myself and Paarthurnax have mastered the Thu’um fully enough to be able to converse in normal tones.” “And you are?” “Master Night-Sparkle; speaker, seer, and scribe for the Greymanes.” “And what of Paarthurnax? When can I meet him?” “We shall see,” Night-Sparkle said, “Very few ponies are allowed to see the Grand Master. Time will tell if you are worthy.” “Before we begin,” he continued as I levitated my saddlebags off, setting them aside on the floor, “Let us see what you have already learned. Let us taste of your Thu’um.” “Um, okay,” I said, focusing my thoughts best I could. I sent among the Greymanes, though they barely staggered. “Excellent!” Night-Sparkle praised, “You show good control of your Voice. How long have you been practicing?” “About a week and a half,” I said, thinking back. Could that really have been it? “Surely you jest,” Night-Sparkle replied, “Learning to use Words of Power takes years of study for even the most skilled pony.” “No,” I said, “I first learned about FUS ten days ago. But I didn’t know how to use it until after I killed that dragon-” “You learned this from killing a dragon?” “Yeah, I just sort of experienced all its memories when it died. Why?” “Hmm,” Night-Sparkle said, rubbing his beard, “Something like this hasn’t happened in centuries.” “What hasn’t happened?” I asked frantically, though Night-Sparkle seemed to be lost in thought. “To absorb a dragon’s soul,” he responded at last, “The last individual to do so was Talhooves.” “I absorbed its soul?” I asked, horrified. “Well, not exactly,” Night-Sparkle said, coming out of his trance to reassure me. “You absorbed and experienced its collective memories. Dragons are able to do this, as are a few gifted individuals known as Dovahkiin, or Dragonborn, blessed by the Equines with the soul of a dragon. Emperor Talhooves’ line was especially rich with dragon blood.” “You think I’m one of these . . . Dovahkiin?” “I know of no other way to explain what you’ve told us. I wonder, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother, if I could have a look at your cutie-mark?” My spirits sank instantly. It always came down to that, didn’t it? What was I to do? I could refuse his request and keep my secret, but they might grow suspicious, and lying never got anypony anywhere (or so my mother said.) But if I told them I was a blank flank would they still allow me to train with them? Or would I be sent down the mountain in disgrace, my dreams shattered? “I don’t . . . have one,” I said, cringing inside as the truth spilled out. Even if this meant the end of my training, no relationship founded on lies could last long anyway. Deep yet muffled whispers passed between the Greymanes, shaking the monastery as they spoke. Night-Sparkle continued to stare me down, a bushy eyebrow raised. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning. I reached out for my saddlebags, preparing to leave. “Very interesting,” Night-Sparkle said, breaking the tense silence, “Dragonborn you may not be, but still a pony of your raw skill hasn’t appeared in as long as the Greymanes can collectively remember. And who knows if we could also learn knowledge of the Voice through the slaying of dragons like you? There hasn’t been a dragon in the Northlands for centuries, nor would we ponies of peace choose to slay one if we had the chance.” My saddlebags continued to levitate in midair as I tried to decide what he was saying. “Are you ready to begin in earnest with your training?” Night-Sparkle asked, looking sidelong at my floating possessions. “Of course,” I said, dropping my saddlebags back to the floor. “You have already learned FUS, or force in the dragon tongue,” Night-Sparkle began the lesson, “So we shall teach you the rest of the Unrelenting Force Shout that it begins. Each Shout, or Thu’um, is made up of three words in the dragon language. With each word uttered, your Thu’um grows stronger, but also requires more concentration to muster.” “When you utter FUS alone, your voice is raw power, pushing out in all directions. For it to be truly effective, it must be focused. It requires balance, or RO. Master Yorri will demonstrate for you.” The pale green mare stepped forward, pulling back the hood of her robe. She steadied herself, breathing deeply, before starting. she shouted, her pose only growing more rigid as she uttered the word in the dragon tongue. On the floor where she had directed her shout, letters in draconic seemed to stand out. Just like back in Blank Flanks Barrow the word stood out in blue fire, the meanings of the word flooding into my brain. Everything a pony could ever learn about balance, I suddenly knew. But yet, I lacked the knowledge of application, just like before. The thoughts of RO bubbled to the surface of my mind. It felt like my mind was catching fire as something locked within was suddenly released. I found memories not my own, draconic memories, flying before my eyes. I recognized the dragon I had killed at Marekarth, and I saw every time it had used RO throughout its vast lifetime all in an instant. Once again, it felt like I would explode if I didn’t let the words out, so I did. <> My Shout shook the monastery, a fiercely compressed dagger of force cutting through the air. Luckily nopony was in the way of the Shout and all it did was slam into a wall, cracking it slightly. “Amazing,” Night-Sparkle mused, “Learned in an instant.” “I just saw the memories of the second dragon I killed,” I spoke between heavy breaths, trying to calm my breathing to normal. “One word for every soul; that seems about right,” he said, lost in his own world again. Once I had regained my composure, I waited for Night-Sparkle to return to reality. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, snapping back, “Nopony has ever mastered a Shout so quickly. I suppose we should continue with the training.” “You now know two of the words that make up Unrelenting Force. Master Midnight-Flame will teach the final word. Now that your Thu’um is powerful and direct, we shall make it stronger, with the draconic word for push.” The white stallion stepped out of the circle and projected his Voice toward the ground just like Yorri had before him. Once more the ethereal letters stood out, their meaning burned into my eyes and my brain. Push, or DAH as I knew it now, was fully comprehensible in instants. No memories flooded through my mind this time though, and I was fully aware of the bizarre emptiness in my thoughts. “Well,” Night-Sparkle said expectantly, “Can you Shout?” “I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head, “But I’ll give it a try.” <> I shouted, but “Dah” came out in plain speech. “I’ve only killed two dragons,” I explained as Night-Sparkle looked toward the other Greymanes. “Normally I would tell you to meditate on the meaning of DAH,” Night-Sparkle said, “But due to your unique abilities, we may be able to try something else. If you’re up for it, of course.” “Like what?” I asked. “Master Midnight-Flame may be able to share his memories with you, everything he knows about DAH, but if your mind isn’t ready there’s a chance it could either kill you or leave you mindless.” “I’d like to try,” I said, swallowing hard. I could feel the emptiness in my mind eating away at me, and hopefully this would fill that gap. “Clear your mind of all but DAH,” Night-Sparkle said as I closed my eyes. It wasn’t difficult. All I could think about was DAH, the thoughts threatening to consume me. With a slight crackling sound, as if something was burning, images appeared before my eyes. Memories flashed by in rapid succession. Bits and pieces of Midnight-Flame’s life passed into my mind, becoming my own. Within a minute, I’d learned everything I needed about DAH. As the flow of memories cut off, I let my Shout out. <<>> Force, balance, and push combined perfectly. Or, at least mostly perfectly. The knowledge I’d received from Midnight-Flame seemed shallow compared to what I’d learned from the dragons. Because of his pony mind? I wasn’t sure; I’d have to think on it. “Excellent,” Master Night-Sparkle praised, “A nearly flawless Thu’um. Though I would suggest meditation to polish it up a bit.” “Yeah,” I nodded, “What next?” “I think that is enough training for today,” Night-Sparkle announced, “We shall resume in the morning, if you are up for the task. Make yourself at home in any of the unoccupied cells and enjoy a restful meditation and sleep.” I nodded, rubbing my head. I hadn’t realized it, but learning that much that fast was giving me a headache. I retired to one of the rooms in the monastery, stripping off my armor and laying it beside my saddlebags. After contemplating DAH, I drifted off into a deep sleep. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ I awoke to find Night-Sparkle standing next to my bed. The room was still pitch-black but for the circle of light coming from the candle held in his mouth. “What is it?” I asked, “It’s not morning already, is it?” “No,” he said, setting the candle down, “The Equines have revealed to Paarthurnax that you must leave on a quest for us. We have long attempted to find the War Horn of our founder, Jurgen Sky-whinny, but nopony has been willing to search it out for us. The Equines have revealed that you alone will be successful in finding it, but you must leave immediately. Time is of the essence. The horn has already nearly passed out of our grasp.” “Where do I start?” I asked, pulling on my armor and rubbing sleep from my eyes. “The Companions of Whitetrot,” he said, “They too have been seeking it, and they may know where it is.” Placing my saddlebags on my back, I followed Night-Sparkle through the winding hallways of High Hoofgar until we reached the entrance. “May Talhooves guide your steps and Pyne guard your path, bringing you back safe to us,” he called after me as I trotted down the mountain. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ In the darkness, I carefully descended the 7000 steps until I was back in Ivarsteed. Splitten came in sight just as the sun was rising, and the brilliantly colored lights that waved across the night sky began to fade. At the changing of the guard, I managed to sneak through the gate. Nopony seemed to recognize me, so I guess the prison break from yesterday was old news already. At least, I didn’t see any more guards than normal out on patrol. Making my way down to the waterway, I followed the subterranean tunnels until I arrived at the Ragged Flagon. “Back so soon?” Serif asked as I neared the bar. “Yeah,” I said, “The Greymanes needed me to retrieve something for them. Just thought I’d stop by and return this first.” With a flourish, I pulled the Gray Fox’s Cowl from my saddlebags. Admittedly it would’ve looked a lot cooler if it hadn’t got tangled up with my potions and sent them spilling across the floor. But Serif seemed impressed all the same. “You actually found it!” she nearly squeed in delight. “By the sixteen realms of the Beyond,” Malif said, turning to look, “It really is the Cowl!” “A thousand thanks the Thieves Guild owes you for this,” Vespers’s voice spoke suddenly from behind me, “We are in your eternal debt.” “It wasn’t really that hard,” I said, blushing. “Nevertheless, we are grateful the Cowl has been returned to its rightful place,” Vespers said, taking it from me, “Malif will provide you with your reward. And if you ever wish to join the Guild, we would be more than happy to accept you.” As Vespers stalked off, Malif went to retrieve something from a locked chest. “You really should join the Guild you know,” Serif spoke to me, “We could always use a good pony, especially in times like these.” “Thanks,” I said, waving off her offer, “But I’m a little busy right now.” Malif dropped a heavy bag of coins into my saddlebags, a few hundred gold at least by the weight. “Well, if you’ve ever got time, you’re always welcome back,” Serif said as I left the Ragged Flagon. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ The journey to Whitetrot passed quickly, my thoughts focused on my goal. If I hoped to learn more from the Greymanes I would have to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Sky-whinny for them. And my quest would have to start with the Companions. I’d heard them mentioned once or twice in passing while I was in Whitetrot, but I hadn’t gotten any solid information on them. A bit foolish of me, I supposed, especially being Thane of the city they were based out of. But, once I entered the city the townsponies were happy to point me in the direction of their headquarters. The mead hall they were based out of sat near the top of the hill Whitetrot was built on, nearly as high up as Dragonsreach. It had a name that was easy to pronounce but ridiculously impossible to spell: Jorrvaskr. I suspected ancient earth pony influences. Indeed, my suspicions were confirmed when I came in sight of the structure. Built of ancient wood and stone, it was adorned with symbols so archaic and vague I suspected even the Companions themselves couldn’t understand them. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was the first building the ancient earth ponies had constructed when they’d arrived in the Northlands. From the front, it seemed to be deserted, though I could hear the clash of steel coming from behind the building. Hesitantly, I pushed open the ornately carved doors with my hoof. The inside of Jorrvaskr was dark compared to the brilliant sunlight of outside. Two beds of coals surrounded by tables provided the only illumination in the ancient mead hall. Dozens of earth ponies garbed in armor of the past filled the place. How I was supposed to find somepony who knew where the war horn was, I had no clue. I decided to just ask the next Companion that passed by. “Excuse me,” I spoke to a deep red mare. She didn’t respond, but she did stop and turn to look at me, so I guess I had her attention. “I’m looking for the War Horn of Jurgen Sky-whinny,” I began to speak, “Do you have any idea where I could find it?” “Jurgen Sky-whinny?” she said condescendingly, “You’re probably here to speak to Steadfast, aren’t you?” “Um, I guess,” I said, unsure who she was talking about. “You can probably find him down in the archive room, seems like he’s always in there. But don’t encourage him too much in his fool’s errand.” “Thanks,” I said as she trotted off. I wasn’t sure what just happened, but at least I had a lead now. I trotted downstairs, into the foundations of Jorrvaskr, searching for the archive room. After walking up and down the hall a few times, I finally found it. It was filled with cracked and ancient scrolls stacked from the floor to the ceiling and completely empty but for an earth pony with a brown coat and a pitch-black mane. “Steadfast?” I asked as I entered. “Yes?” he said, looking up, apparently surprised to see somepony else. “I was told you’re the pony to speak to about the war horn of Jurgen Sky-whinny.” “They sent you down here to tell me to give up, didn’t they,” he responded fiercely, “They think it’s impossible to find, but I know they’re wrong.” I just stood there, dumbfounded. Apparently this pony had gotten a lot of flak from the other Companions if he responded so harshly to anypony even mentioning the horn. “New recruit?” he asked, turning back to the scroll he was studying. “No,” I said, “Actually, I’m looking for the war horn too.” “Really?” he asked, giving me a skeptical look, “Why?” “Well, I’m supposed to find it for the Greymanes, and I was told this was where I should start looking.” “All right,” he said, giving me a smile, “It seems we have common purpose.” “What’s your interest in the horn?” I asked, trotting around the table to stand beside him. “I guess you could call it my personal quest,” he said, obviously thrilled to be able to talk about it to somepony, “I’ve been searching for the horn for a few years now, since I decided it should be my final task to complete to become a full Companion. The others, they thought it was impossible, but not me. I knew I could find it if I just dug deep enough.” “Did you find it?” I asked. “Well, no,” he said, “But I’ve just discovered where it is. It’s your lucky day, I’m ready to leave right away and you’re free to come along. Who knows what kind of opposition we’ll face to acquire the horn.” “Where is it?” I asked, looking at the rough map outlined on a yellowed scroll, the words written in a speech long since forgotten. “Right here,” he said, pointing to a spot on a corresponding map of Horizon, “The ancient earth pony ruin of Hoovestengrav.” “What are we waiting for?” I said, “Let’s get going.” Level Up Health: 150 Stamina: 130 Magicka: 140 New Perk: Silent Hooves [Sneak] -- While sneaking, you are significantly harder to detect. This, of course, does not keep your followers from rushing into danger and blowing your cover. Word of Power learned: RO -- Balance; Unrelenting Force – Combined with FUS, RO makes your Unrelenting Force Shout much more steady and direct. Word of Power learned: DAH -- Push; Unrelenting Force – Combined with FUS and RO, DAH completes and strengthens your Unrelenting Force Shout. New Quest: Digging in the Depths of the Past -- Enter the Draugr ruin of Hoovestengrav with Steadfast and retrieve the War Horn of Jurgen Sky-whinny.