Chapter 8:

Note: This chapter contains non-cannon Skyrim lore.

Kian followed the Graybeards out into the snowy yard behind the castle, cold wind biting away the warmth his limbs had regained from being in the stone fortress. The cloaked men were undeterred by the snow as their coats dragged furrows in the drifts towards the mountain peak that overlooked High Hrothgar.

"He's up there?" Kian struggled to see the mountain's top behind the dense layer of clouds.

"Aye, Dovakiin." Arngeir nodded and the group came to a stop before the slope's beginning.

"I didn't even know there was anything built this high up."

"The Grand Master is a very private sort. Even we rarely see him except under dire circumstances."

Kian glanced from the elderly men back to the clouded mountain.

"But, I can't see an inch into this fog, how are we- "

As one the Graybeards let loose a shout into the sky, and the clouds parted as the wind of their call broke through to open air.

"Ah, I see."

Scarn shivered in Kian's arms, trembling and eyes wide. The Dragonborn tried his best to soothe the beast as they continued along the now visible trail up the mountain.

Kian fell in step with Arngeir at the head of the Graybeards, the dragon in his arms now distracted by falling snow and content to watch the scenery.

"So, who is the Grand Master, and why have I never heard of him before?"

"All I can say for now, is that he is our foremost member, and has been for some time. He knows more about dragons and their culture than any of us. If anyone can tell us where this…" his eyes drifted to Scarn, "little one has come from, it will be him."

"Wow, someone who knows more about dragons than you… How does he know so much?"

The old man smiled.

"I believe you will know when you see him."

The cave at the peak of the Throat of the World was like a gaping wound in the mountain's side. Wide and pitch black, it stretched back farther than Kian could see, with stalactites stabbing at the air like teeth warding off intruders.

"Your Grand Master lives in a cave?"

"Yes."

"… You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

"Kian, why would the Graybeards lead you to the top of a mountain for the sake of something as juvenile as a joke?"

"Well you can never be too cautious, I've had some pretty noble people pull some rather elaborate pranks."

The elder man scoffed.

"We are far from 'most nobles'."

Arngeir took the lead and the other Graybeards shuffled in behind him. Kian exchanged a look with Scarn, who gazed back with a curious innocence, before following reluctantly at the rear. The cave was surprisingly warm, with a heat radiating from the stone around them that was increasing the further they delved in. Kian sighed in relief and shrugged off his heavy coat, shaking snow loose as he walked. The rest of the trek passed in silence, the only sound that of feet crossing stone and water dripping from ceiling to floor.

Distracted taking in the sights, Kian was surprised when a wall of soft fur met his face, only to realize the Graybeards had stopped.

"Ah, sorry Wulfgar."

The elder only nodded in recognition and stepped aside to let Kian through. Ahead of the group was an entrance into a wide, open space within the cave's center. Arngeir waited for Kian by the doorway.

"Is he through there?"

"Aye. Now remember, he is our oldest and most esteemed member. So, respect and manners are paramount."

"Of course."

The Graybeard swept a hand towards the room in a gesture to enter, and the Imperial stepped over the threshold, baby dragon in hand. The room was wide and spacious, with high stone walls that curved into a dome overhead. The walls of the room had shelves set in them, filled with books and scrolls and other artifacts Kian could not name, though the most noticeable feature was the large skylight in the room's dome, opening the cave to the snow filled air.

There was not a soul visible in the room.

"Ah, Arngeir, are you sure he hasn't gone out, or- "

A shadow passed over the skylight, and the room darkened momentarily. Kian startled, and Scarn leapt out of his arms as the Dragonborn drew his sword from its scabbard. The shadow passed again, but now a large body darkened the cave's opening. Wings cracked the wind and scales glinted in the evening light, claws scrapped against stone as the large figure settled into the cavern.

Kian's eyes widened and Scarn squeaked from behind the Imperial's foot as both watched the dragon land on the cave floor. Kian's body was wracked with shakes, adrenaline and fear washing over him, along with a tense anger. A bloodlust becoming familiar in this war against the lords of the sky. The Dragonborn raised his sword, ready to do his duty, before a hand laid itself on his wrist.

Kian turned to see Arngeir and the other Graybeards entering the room, and the older man lowered the dragon slayer's sword hand slowly to the ground. The anger dissipated, and Kian's legs felt weak. He sucked in air he hadn't realized he needed, and his grip around the sword hilt went slack. The sharpened metal clattered to the floor, and Kian followed with it.

Scarn rushed to the adventurer's side, nuzzling against his arm while Arngeir crouched next to them.

"Are you alright, Kian?" he asked, concern genuine in his expression.

"Yeah… I think so."

"My apologies. I was not thinking your reaction would be so… violent. We had thought it best for you to see Paarthurnax for yourself, before we said anything."

"Paarthurnax?"

"That would be me, young Dovakiin." A powerful voice filled the room with its presence, and the other Graybeards bowed towards the scaly beast in respect.

Realization hit, and Kian's jaw dropped in shock.

"Wait, your Grand Master is a dragon?!"

Arngeir nodded in response.

"But... but… you fight dragons!"

"We do not fight dragons, Dovakiin, you do."

"But I- we- "

"Perhaps it would be best if I explained, Arngeir." The large dragon spoke again, now lying in a more relaxed position on the stone floor.

"As you wish, Grand Master." The elder replied, helping Kian to his feet and brought him towards the dragon.

Paarthurnax was one of the largest of his kind that Kian had seen, rivaling only Alduin in scale. Though up close, the beast was far less intimidating than most. There was a kind of age to his face. His body was crossed with scars from nose to tail, his horns and spikes chipped and dulled by time and war. There was a kind of sagging quality to the scales around his face, creating creases and wrinkles like that of an old man, and Kian saw instead of a raging monster a weary soul who has certainly felt the passing of ages. Would all dragons have looked like this had they lived through the centuries?

Standing before the gold scaled being, Kian's legs continued to shake, and he almost asked Arngeir to stay as he stepped back amongst the other Graybeards.

"Well now, Dovakiin. What do you seek from me?" The dragon lowed his head so he could meet Kian's eyes with his own, the golden marble was rather unnerving to look at, but the Imperial forced up his resolve before answering.

"How exactly did a dragon come to be leader of the Graybeards?"

"Hm. I fear that is a very long, very old story…"

"Well I would like an answer."

"Hmm… Well I suppose it started many years before your time. I was one of Alduin's lieutenant back when Dragons ruled over man. However, he grew into a tyrant, making extravagant claims of godhood, and superiority… I grew tired of his vanity, and myself and a few other dragons left to teach mankind to shout, as well as assist in banishing Alduin and his kind from Mundus. After that, well… I came to this mountain to meditate, I felt it best to retreat from the society of man. They would not need me or my interference."

"And you somehow ended up leading a group of mortal shout wielders?"

"I did not become their leader, Dovakiin, I founded the Graybeards."

"Y-you what?"

"Yes, but that is another story for another time. Surely that is not all you are here for?"

Scarn shifted from where he was hidden behind Kian's leg, and the Dragonborn was startled from shock, remembering what they had come here for in the first place.

"A-ah… right. Well, um, I was exploring a long abandoned Nordic tomb, and inside I found something… unbelievable."

"Oh?" The dragon's head tilted in interest, though there was a look to him that said there was little that would surprise him.

I can certainly change that…

"Yes, I discovered a… nest of sorts. And inside, I found- "Kian scoped Scarn into his arms and held him up to the larger dragon.

The little black hatchling took in Paarthurnax's face with wide red eyes, before leaning forward and sniffing at his muzzle with interest. The Grand Master's eyes widened slowly with the dawning of what he was seeing. Scarn let out a minute squawk and bumped his nose against Paarthurnax's. The larger dragon pulled back out of reach, and the smaller crooned in disappointment.

"Oh… my." The aged beast seemed at a loss for words for once, and Kian forced himself to hold back a smirk.

"Yes, that seems to be the common reaction amongst many. We were hoping you could, perhaps, clear up exactly where he came from, and how. I always thought all the dragons were male?"

"Well, that is both true and false." Paarthurnax raised a claw to scratch against his chin. "Dragons are not mortal creatures like man, and as such we have no need to reproduce to continue the species. Our father Akatosh saw it pointless to make us with such unnecessary parts, you see. So, we truly have no gender so to speak."

"Ah." That certainly cleared up why Kian had seen nothing when he turned Scarn over that day. Male was just the assumption he had made after the dragon squawked at the treatment.

"Male is simply how most dragons see themselves. Our voices are deep, our personalities rugged and quick to anger, and male is how we were seen by others as well. We saw no reason to make much of a fuss over it."

"But wait, if there are no female dragons, where did the eggs I found come from?"

"Eggs?" Paarthurnax's eyes lit with surprise and, strangely, nostalgia.

"Yes, eggs. There were eggs in the nest. The rest were smashed, and Scarn's was the only one intact."

"You are sure these were eggs?"

"Sure as anything. I watched this one hatch myself."

The dragon turned wistful for a moment. "Could it be…"

"Could it be what?"

"Even though dragons do not reproduce, it did not mean they did not couple. Some of our kind, at the very dawn of our age, found comfort in close relations with another, often living together in pairs sharing caves and nest. And, even though we did not have reproductive organs, we did have one thing."

Kian listened with intent as the dragon continued. Scarn's ears perked up as well, tilting from side to side as though taking in each syllable of speech.

"Magic. Our kind are very skilled in the mystic arts, to the point where many spells could be done on whim and instinct without a single oath being spoken. And there was one of us, so very long ago, with a talent like no other. She was called Ariath, a true marvel of our species. She was captivating, strong, graceful, everything a dragon in its prime should be. But she had one trait above all; soul binding."

"Soul binding?"

"It's a kind of magic no creature, man or dragon, has been able to replicate since. Ariath would take a partner, any of her choosing, and if their connection was true and strong enough, she would ask to do a soul binding. In essence, it involved weaving the very core of both dragon's beings together into one. Into something stronger, something greater, and Ariath could use this joining to make eggs, and birth dragons."

"Truly?"

"Yes. We do not know why she was the only one Akatosh left with this gift, but it was something treasured amongst our kind. Ariath was treated like a queen, and any dragon would fly to the world's end to be a part of such a personal ritual with her."

"So, Ariath was a she?"

"Ariath felt it was appropriate, she felt no qualms in being labeled as such for her ability to 'conceive,' in a sense."

"Hm." Kian thought for a moment. "Well, then, why aren't there hundreds of dragons? Even if there was only one of you who could, why not take advantage of such a talent?"

Paarthurnax laughed, and the very cave seemed to rumble with its vibration.

"Oh, there were those who tried, but the soul binding can only be done with a true and consenting connection. If neither dragon feels true affection for another, it will not work. And besides, Ariath took partners only rarely, and clutch sizes were fairly small. Still, there were quite a few generations of dragons birthed by her."

"Then where are they? The list of dragons mentioned in the legends seemed very short to me. What happened to the others?"

Paarthurnax's eyes grew hard, and his voice dripped with venom as he spoke the name, "Alduin."

"All our pains are caused by Alduin. Even in those days his vanity and lust for power were strong. He thought himself deserving of the sun's rays before anyone else, and could not bear to see something denied him. Ariath refused to take Alduin as a mate many times over, and a fire was lit in that vile monster, a fire that soon consumed him and the rest of our kind. Made himself a god among men, set the doubt amongst the other dragons that man was a dangerous species and required subjugation, became ruler of the world and king of our kind. But always Ariath remained out of his reach. She continued to take other dragons, and in Alduin's words, 'forced his hand.'

"Alduin killed every dragon ever born from Ariath's bonds. Even those loyal to him and closest in his council, all slain with no remorse. He found her most recent nest and smashed the eggs, ruining her lineage. Then he declared Ariath, as the Queen of Dragons, would nest only with him, on penalty of death. No other dragon would touch her after, but still Ariath denied Alduin what he most desired, up to the very end she fought him, until…" Paarthurnax trailed off for a time, swept up in memories.

"Ah… Grand Master?" Kian questioned.

"Hm? Oh, yes, ah, where was I… Yes. Ariath fought against Alduin with all the strength she could muster, and eventually, out of spite and anger, he killed her. Right before a gathering of the rest of our people, and with her blood on his talons proclaimed, 'If I can't have her, then no dragon can.' Humanity's rebellion occurred only a few centuries later, and at last that black blight reaped as he sowed."

Kian stood still in awe as his mind slowly processed the story. "So, he was so selfish he would rather there be no new dragons than new dragons that were not from him?"

The golden beast nodded solemnly.

"It was a sad day for our kind. Many wept and raged at her death, but fear of Alduin was so great none would challenge him. It only added to the many reasons I turned against our ruler in the end."

Silence settled over the cavern for a moment, and Kian slowly ran a hand down Scarn's back as he thought.

"So Alduin would never revive the spawn of other dragons. That's why their numbers are so diminished."

"Indeed, Dragonborn. His pride would not allow it."

"Then who made Scarn's clutch? If Ariath was the only one and he has such hate for her that he would leave her dead, where- "

"I never said he would leave Ariath dead."

Kian jolted in surprise. "But, he hasn't resurrected any of them."

"He has not resurrected any of her brood. Alduin's pride also does not allow him to admit failure. If he thought it possible to control her, he would bring Ariath back without a second thought."

"But I thought she hated him?"

"She did, without a doubt, but no other could have created living dragon hatchlings. And Alduin would never let another near Ariath if that were the case, which means…"

The dragon's burning gaze drifted to the dragon, now idly biting at its tail out of boredom.

Kian's eyes shot from hatchling to adult in disbelief.

"You… you don't mean?"

"Indeed, Dragonborn. This hatchling is of Alduin's blood."