Dragonborn Saga

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"7000 steps, huh? That sure went fast." Jon exclaimed then looked behind him to see Lydia who was out of breath and barely keeping up.

It was probably due to the air being thinner and the drop of the oxygen density the higher one goes. For normal people, exerting effort at such height is torturous especially when one’s lungs hurt so damn much, the mind would start going numb after doing something exhausting and the efficiency of any person would go down a few notches. To Voice Masters on the other hand, such a problem is easily solvable. Breathing techniques and managing the inner body may seem like fantasy methods to normal people but if someone can find the capacity to breathe in the Void and the Chaos, one is already out of the normal people’s realm.

Energy breathing is simply a secret which may seem like a very complicated method at first but it is manageable with good enough understanding. Breathing through the skin is certainly the answer here since the skin can efficiently take what it needs and dispel what it doesn’t, the body knows itself best after all.

In the case of Jon and Lydia, it was a normal thing to happen. Even though Jon instructed her many times along the way, telling someone to breathe through their ears still sounds more manageable than breathing through the skin.

Still, reaching the monastery was the ultimate goal of the journey and the monastery they reached. Jon casually walking, Lydia begging for breath and Nefertiti snuggling on Jon’s shoulder; the three had all different emotions when they finally were about to step in High Hrothgar monastery.

But before going in... Jon had to drop the supplies Klimek entrusted him to deliver... yep, another side quest.

The sunlight was fading away with an array of whirling mists covering the peak of the Throat of the World and enshrouding it with mystery, it also thickened gloomier with Jon approaching the High Hrothgar monastery step by step as if it was heralding his most anticipated presence. A month since he was summoned and a month took him to come, rude to the Greybeards but necessary to the greater good. Jon would apologize for that if needed but he would soon find an alternate story.

An alternate story that took him from the beginning as he was about to touch the right side gate of the monastery. Wondrously, the gate opened itself and from deep within the dark stone corridor came a young man in black robes and shaved head, a bit older than Jon and a tad shorter but unleashed a strong presence that would pressure anyone with a weak heart. On the other hand, Jon returned double the presence with a provocative sneer.

The young man was taken by utter surprise and acknowledged Jon with wide eyes.

"A Dragonborn indeed." He said in wonder.

"Expecting me?" Jon asked.

The young man nodded.

"Indeed, you were singing that terrible song on your way up, that’s when I heard you. Though... the Masters must have heard you way before I did." The young man said.

It was Jon’s time to be taken aback. He knew that the monks who live in this Monastery were the strongest NPCs in the game but not to hear him from... oh, wait! He now understood how they knew he killed a Dragon near Whiterun from this high up the mountain.

"Super hearing? That’s new."

"Oh... where are my manners? This way." The young man said as he cleared the way for Jon and Lydia to walk in.

Nefertiti nimbly jumped off Jon’s shoulder and ran into the hall as if something had caught her attention, no one would mind a cat’s behavior normally but a cat that made it to High Hrothgar is no ordinary cat.

"Eager to play already?" The young man laughed.

"The world is literally the playground of cats. No one can deny that." Jon spoke as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh! I agree, I agree." The man nodded while stroking his short beard.

"I see you are a man of culture as well." Jon immediately took a liking on this man.

"Indeed, there is nothing as graceful as a cat."

"Goodness me! Who are you?"

"Knut, Adept."

"Dare, Jon."

"Hmmm... feels like I have heard that name somewhere before." Adept Knut said.

"It goes around." Jon dismissed the matter nonchalantly.

It is rare to find a fellow brother in fluff in this harsh part of the world yet both Jon and Knut were assessing one another as if two old strategists meeting for battle negotiations.

Jon hated Rivalry in any sort of manner other than in some trivial things but when it comes to the Thu’um, Jon can become very cranky and would judge others extremely harshly. He is a Dragonborn who has the inborn privilege of shouting like a Dragon and on top of that, he put a great effort to start using the Thu’um way before he awakens as Dragonborn. He understands the limits and the privileges he has but deep down, shouting the Thu’um is a birthright to him that he values dearly, an attempt to assess him in his own field of expertise hardly ends well.

That made the whole journey to High Hrothgar more interesting in fact. He may be a natural Voice Master and a prideful Dragonborn but he still believed that there is always a height beyond what he knows and the Greybeards may have accumulated knowledge that would add to his arsenal. For example, they have some good ears as it seemed.

Knut led Jon through the dark corridor to a hall that was built all in black stone and minimally decorated. The hall occupied the heart of the monastery and there where Jon could see Nefertiti finding a place for herself near a fire brazier on a stone platform, four elderly men in grand black robes were curiously watching the strange creature that slipped swiftly through their senses.

Seeing Jon and Jon seeing them, the focus was diverted on each other as Knut excused himself and whispered for Lydia to follow him away from the Masters.

The Greybeards... the most ancient and most honored sect in Skyrim made of monks who reside at the ancient monastery of High Hrothgar near the summit of the Throat of the World. They are the most famous of the Tongues, Masters of the Voice. They live in absolute silence in order to better attune themselves to the voice of the sky. They are a peaceful order, not using their Thu’um to augment their martial skills but to worship and honor the Heaven as the [Way of the Voice] decreed. When the Greybeards speak, storms brew above High Hrothgar, and people are forced to evacuate due to the imminent danger of avalanches. When they even so much as speak the word "Dovahkiin", it rumbles through the world and the mountains shake. Such is their power when they spoke to announce the greatness of Tiber Septim.

With Jon facing the four Masters of High Hrothgar for the first time in his life, they assessed him from head to toe as their speaker approached him.

"So... a Dragonborn appears at this moment in the turning of the age..."

The man who spoke was Master Arngeir. His size was quite short for a Nord but his presence was something else entirely. It is as if the man was not speaking but rather a force of nature barely trying to hold itself back. Jon couldn’t help but smile vividly against such power but he knew it is unwise to show disrespect in front of Skyrim’s most respected.

"I, Jonhild of Clan Firemane known as Jon Dare, have come to answer the summons of the Greybeards." He spoke for the first time to them without restricting his voice’s abilities either.

Arngeir looked at Jon with a hint of curiosity as Jon’s voice wasn’t ordinary either. It had a lot of raw power just like a stream but Jon had an excellent ability to hold himself back that was naturally born within him as Dragonborn, even Master Arngeir had been through thick and thin to reach such a point of restriction.

"Ah! There is the gift. Kyne has blessed your tongue indeed. Tell me, how long have you been using the Voice?" Arngeir said.

"Six years... but I practiced for two years before it and learned the Dovahzul at an early age." Jon said.

Angrier and the rest of the Greybeards showed concerned faces.

"Didn’t you know that practicing the Voice at such a tender age may have costed you your voice or even your life." Arngeir asked.

"I have known of my ability to shout since the beginning."

"That you are a Dragonborn?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm... so, Dragonborns know what they are. That was not recorded before..." Arngeir wondered, "Our predecessors never recorded that Tiber Septim knew before he was called... and Reman never knew until he shouted the savages of Akavir at the Pale Pass."

Jon smiled at the remarks.

"Just a prophecy of a Moss Priest." He said.

Arngeir looked deeply into Jon and remembered something.

"Firemane... could it be that you are the child who caused the chaos between the clans 19 years ago?"

"I can take the blame for many things in this world and a few other worlds but not really when I was but a year old." Jon smiled wryly.

"Oh... indeed." Arngeir nodded with a light smile, "But the child is truly you. It was unwise to stand in the way of Fate. We let a disciple down that day and he shouted those Nords to their senses. Skyrim was loud then as it is loud today."

Jon heard those words and contemplated on them seeking to know what the Greybeards truly are and gaze at the depth of their ways.

A few words reveal what men are and for those Greybeards who rarely say anything, this was a historical moment worthy of studying. Jon was way above curious when it came to those people.

"So listening and speaking are two different ways?" Jon asked.

Arngeir stroked his beard and nodded.

"Obviously. You just listened... maybe a little. But if you truly listen, you won’t need to speak. Those who say that if speaking is of Silver then listening is of Gold may have underestimated the wisdom they spoke else they have not spoken and kept listening."

Arngeir chuckled lightly and the other three Masters showed slight smiles, Jon barely understood that this was a grandpa joke only they found funny somehow. He had to try and listen to it but it would be anticlimactic in such a moment.

"Can I learn how to listen?" Jon asked.

"But we invited you to teach you how to speak." Arngeir replied.

"Anyone can speak... even my cat."

"Anyone can listen... even you can."

"Then how to listen?"

"It is not a question that can be answered by speaking even though if I spoke the answer..."

"I see."

Jon nodded as he just learned something valuable beyond anything he knew of the Voice.

To listen is not to speak. It is truly basic. Arngeir refused to say it but gave Jon an obvious hint. Still, what happens when listening?

Listening and Speaking are two ways of the Thu’um. They are not clearly the same thing but they complete and complement each other if followed right.

The Thu’um is a Tonal Magic, each word said is that of the language of the Dragons but this language transcends even the Dragons for it may be attributed to them but it is not actually theirs.

The Language is the Language of the Sky. Dragons are the dwellers of the sky thus it can be their native language one way or the other. This opens the door for many methods of understanding and seeing a lot of wisdom, a wisdom that even the Dragons do not possess.

Such a height! Jon thought he may learn something new but to find that he was but a frog in a well with all those heroics under his belt, he was nearly about to burst out laughing if not for the wariness of showing disrespect.

"You have learned something. Does it satisfy you?" Arngeir asked.

"If I begged to learn more, would you teach me?" Jon asked back.

"I’d take your answer as a no then. Still, I have taught you all I can." Arngeir said.

"Indeed. I guess I would understand less if I know more."

Arngeir’s face brightened up for Jon’s last remark. Many can reach the level of this understanding but a few can think such as that. People always ask to know more but do they truly listen? Of course they can’t be blamed if they don’t properly listen as not all who talk can properly speak.

In each sentence spoken, a listener must learn. Then what if the Sky itself speaks. It is hard to listen to the Sky properly so one must learn how to listen in a new way.

The Greybeards live on a High Mountain not for the reason to be closer to the Gods or the Sky as some may claim but the actual reason is to stay away from the noises of the world. They are peaceful men who do not wish to be disturbed unless in the times of great need where they must perform their duty such as the time where the Nords are truly endangered or the emergence of a Dragonborn.

By listening, they naturally come to learn the words of the Sky which eventually leads to their sense of hearing being keen resulting in their voices being that of the Storm. Jon has spent almost half of his life trying to speak the Voice while all he had to do is just listen.

"Sigh! All of a sudden, speaking became so distasteful." Jon said.

"Isn’t it still necessary?" Arngeir asked.

"Sadly."

"Then let us hear you speak. Give us a Taste of your Voice, Dragonborn."

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