InsaneJournal

As the months went along, the Dragonborn did as the Greybeards advised him to do. He needed the time to strengthen his Voice and train himself.

In the beginning, his alliance with the Companions proved to be lucrative as Lydia promised. With a bed to fall in at night and food always available to eat in the main hall, saving coin for more important things became a breeze. He had a home to call his own, a new horse for transportation, and his reputation in Skyrim was rising.

The task he was given by the Greybeards remained buried away in his mind, but lingered in his thoughts as time passed. By the time he felt ready, he felt he must have killed over a dozen dragons. Using the whispering voices to guide him, he spared no expense to find whatever Words he could get to. He poured his heart into his research on the dragons and the Dragon Wars.

With his head full of endless questions and theories, he couldn't bear to stay away from High Hrothgar any longer; it was time. He needed to go to Ustengrav, and he needed answers. By now, he looked a lot less like a boy from Cyrodiil, and a lot more like a weathered Nord warrior of Skyrim. He was scarred from head to toe, and his hair had grown almost half a foot.

He found Lydia downstairs in Breezehome, sitting in a chair by the firepit. "Lydia," he announced as he stepped down into his common area. "It's time."

"Time for what?" Lydia asked, turning to face him.

"My apologies, it's been a while. Ustengrav, I need to go there now and you're coming with me. Grab your things and some food for the road."

"Yes, my Thane," Lydia said, standing up.

Andrel nodded at her and moved for the front door. He already had what he needed for the trip to Morthal. "Meet me at the stable," he ordered. "I'm going to prepare Allie and make sure she's got some food in her belly before we leave."

"I will see you there. I'll only be a few minutes."

He stepped out of his house and walked out of Whiterun's city gates. Down the path, he approached the stable where he had Allie stationed. Pulling a couple carrots out of his bag, he offered one of the vegetables to her. The horse sniffed at the orange root in his hand, her velvety muzzle opening to nip at the offering. Once she decided it was to her liking, she crunched off a large chunk and started chewing on it as her master loaded her pack with his things.

"She looks happy," he heard Lydia say as she approached, giving Allie a scratch on her forehead.

"I just gave her part of this carrot," he said as he glanced at Lydia, offering her the other half. "Give her this too, will you?"

Lydia took the carrot from him and flattened her palm out, feeding the rest to Allie. "Remind me what her name's short for, again?"

"Skulvar said her name's Queen Alfsigr," he said. "Pretty noble name for a horse, but she's so spoiled with how much they preen her, here. I think it fits her well." He gave the mare a pat on her shoulder, scratching at the ridge of her neck. Pulling Allie out into the sunshine, her black coat gleamed.

Lydia had a horse of her own, as well, which she loaded up. Traveling became so much easier once they'd both invested in their steeds. "She's a beauty, that's for sure. And she seems to do well, she's always so relaxed."

"It helps she's got good people to take care of her while I'm gone. I reckon Skulvar likes her quite a lot when she's here. She's my horse because I paid for her, but it almost feels like she's his horse, too, because he takes care of her for me. Keeps her fed, groomed, and happy."

"Well. Shall we go, then?" Lydia asked, guiding her own horse out of the stable. The both of them mounted their steeds and he nodded in response, egging Allie on.

"I'm ready. Let's get to Morthal."

When they finally reached Hjaalmarch, they were forced to detour through the marshlands before he spotted the ruin. He and Lydia dismounted, seeing fighting in the distance. With some luck, they were able to stay out of sight and watched as their problem took care of itself. On closer inspection, they found dead mages and a pile of dust that was once a bandit, and then a reanimated corpse.

"Necromancers..." he hissed. "At least we have some idea of what we might find. There's likely to be more inside."

"I've got your back," Lydia affirmed. The staircase went down to the doorway of the barrow, and they stepped inside. Right away, they found a man laying face-down on the ground, dead.

"Let me go look ahead and see what we've got. I'll be right back. You stay here," he whispered. He crouched down and crept forward, down the hallway to the first chamber. He crept closer to listen in and scope out their targets. As he hid behind a pillar and moved to the right where there was a short wall to hide him, he could hear them talking. The high ceilings were a welcome feature that made their conversation just loud enough for him to hear.

"These thralls of yours are slower than Argonians in a blizzard," said a woman.

"Feel free to grab a pick and help them out. I prefer not to sully myself with manual labor," scoffed another necromage.

"There goes another one..."

"Bah. Weak-willed rabble..." sighed the necromage. "Even dead, they're almost useless."

"They seem less intelligent each time you raise them, if that's even possible."

"As long as they can swing a pickaxe where I tell them, they're as smart as we need them to be."

A ruckus came from down the hallway and he watched as both the women turned. "You hear that? The others must have found something!"

"We'd better go see. These can tend to themselves for a few minutes."

The women went down the hallway, and Lydia watched, perplexed, as Andrel vanished into the air. She knew he was there, but she couldn't see him. He was invisible, but he didn't use a spell and she didn't see him drink anything before he disappeared. He followed behind the women and they were caught in the middle of a fight with some nasty-looking Draugr. Figuring it best to leave them to that fight, he crept back where he knew he'd be safe to show himself and stood up, flagging Lydia down, gesturing her to come over.

When she reached him, she furrowed her brows at him. "Where did you go? I couldn't see you for a second..."

He put his finger to his lips before whispering. "I'll tell you later. They're fighting down there. I'm letting our numbers cull themselves so we can save our energy for whatever lies at the end."

"Good thinking," Lydia whispered back. The voices died down and he grasped the hilt of his sword, leading Lydia down the same tunnel he'd seen the women go down. There was a chest, but he ignored it. They could always come back for whatever was in there, later. As they continued down, the floor was littered with dead bodies, both draugr and mage. The two women he'd stalked were among the deceased, and he swiped whatever useful items he could off the bodies.

Continuing on through the corridor, they were given two avenues of travel. The path ahead of them seemed to carry on through the ruin, but his interest laid with the archway to his right. Looking to Lydia, he nudged his head in that direction and she followed him down the tunnel. There was a small room with a table that had some scattered gold, and to the side was a cutting in the rock. It was a sealed-off passageway and a chain hung on the left. He pulled, and another tunnel was revealed, digging down lower into the ground. As he walked down, he found another small room. A chest laid on the ledge, a temptation waiting for any adventurer with sticky fingers. He examined the room for traps, but couldn't find anything that looked suspicious.

"This doesn't feel like it's going to have anything exciting... there's no traps. It's just here, and getting down here wasn't that hard, to boot," he concluded, opening the chest anyway. "See? A few lockpicks and a few coins. Why bother keeping it down here, at all?"

"They did it to vex you," Lydia teased. "They must have known you were coming."

"Ha-ha-ha." He smiled and shook his head. "Let's get that horn. Back up we go. I can hear another word wall, and I want to find it."

As they reached the top of the tunnel, Andrel drew his sword, wanting to be ready if something attacked. A sarcophagus lid fell and a draugr slumped out, its eyes glowing blue in the dim light as it groaned at them. He didn't understand what kind of magic drove these ugly old things, but he didn't care in the moment. As the creature drew its weapon on them, its sword slashed in his direction, which he deflected with his own blade before giving a slash of his own. The draugr blocked his attack with its shield, giving another angry growl at the Dragonborn. Lydia used Andrel's distraction as an excuse to flank the draugr from behind and drove her sword straight through its chest, rendering it dead - truly dead.

"Disgusting creatures. Good job, Lydia."

"Thank you," she responded. As a pair, they were nigh-unstoppable. Every draugr they came across was cut down moments after it'd detected their presence. As they continued on, they found a closed door that opened to another large cavern.

"Nonvul bron dahmaan daar rot fin fodiiz Bormah-nii los heyv do enook mun wah lahney voth ahkrin ahrk zin leh rok feim vodahmin kotin vulom..."

The words poured into his head. They were so close to the wall. Motioning Lydia forward, he peeked through a window made of heavy vines. Light was pouring in from the ceiling, though he didn't know where they were in relation to Morthal. As they advanced, another growl sounded and he drew his sword to dispatch a draugr that'd been patrolling.

"Not keen on these draugr, but at least the view in here is nice," he said to Lydia, keeping his voice down. The cavern was large, and he knew his voice would echo and give their location away, setting them up for a nasty scrap. Down the hallway, they found even more Draugr. These were tougher than the other ones they'd faced thus far, and both of them got bloodied in the scuffle.

When things calmed down again and they had time to heal their wounds, he took a look around. They were in a room with tables that had old cheese and rotting meat laying everywhere. "This explains their bad breath and slim physique, at least," he pointed out. "Constantly sick because they eat spoiled food and refuse to stop. No wonder they always look so awful."

"A better diet and a nice, hot shower would make them like new men," Lydia joked.

"Look at this." he laughed, picking up a random sprig of wilted lavender. "At least they tried to freshen the place up, a little. I wonder how this place smelled about a month ago?"

"Like death, and some flowers."

Humor was really one of the only things that got him through these dank old places. The places were always teeming with un-life, and they gave him the creeps. He wasn't quite afraid, he just didn't like the way things felt. Joking about things eased the tension, but he hadn't forgotten his task. Looking up, he saw another bridge. "We need to get up there. Enough joking for now, I want to get out of here."

Wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve, Lydia followed him through the hallway and up the stairs. They found another cavern, and he saw a mixture of green and purple on the ground. As they got closer, it changed color. There were three coffins scattered through the chamber. The colorful puddle was oil, and a lamp hung just above it. It must have been leaking, but a well-placed fireball would still set it alight. Just across the way, their path leading forward was right ahead.

"I'm going to go out there and wake them up. I'm going to lure them to that puddle and when I'm back here, and they're all in that puddle, I want you to light it on fire."

"Understood," Lydia replied.

Andrel went off to the left of the room, wanting to loop around to catch them all. The lids popped off the sarcophagi in the cavern and he paced himself so they would follow him. Lydia was prepared for him, and as soon as he was over by her, she waited for the three undead denizens to step into the puddle. Fwoosh.

The puddle lit up the room in a fiery blaze, burning only where the oil was. There wasn't much in this room that could be burned, but it took care of their problem in one fell swoop and they rushed forward to the next room. The tunnel veered off to the right and now he could see the cavern again. The words were still pulsing in his mind, but he attempted to shush them.

As he approached the edge, he could see right ahead to the source of the word. It amazed him how well pine trees could grow in a place like this, and their earthy scent was a welcome exchange to the stench of stale cheese and beyond-spoiled meat from the previous room. As they continued down into the cavern, they were greeted again by even more draugr. The sound of creaking bones echoed through the grotto. An arrow flew past Lydia, almost hitting her as it whirred through the wind.

"Watch yourself," he warned. The Draugr that came down to greet them was cloaked in fire as it stood on a pressure trap, and he watched as it crumpled, falling down the steps to land at his feet, the body smoking. Stepping over, the whole top of the stairs was covered in them but it was the only way to get to the skeletons. "Wuld!"

His Voice carried him over the traps without triggering them, and from there, the skeletons weren't a problem to deal with. A couple slashes of his sword, and they crumbled to pieces, unable to pester anybody else, not that anybody else would ever come this far through the barrow, again. He could hear Lydia fighting down below him, but things went quiet, except for the wall.

Lydia had seen plenty of these walls by now, but each time was like seeing a new one. She loved the runes etched into the stone. They were important benchmarks of history, but they weren't always found in places beautiful as this. Sometimes they were stuffed away in some dilapidated old hallway that had more dust than wall. As he approached, he absorbed the new word.

"Noble Nords remember these words (of) the hoar father It is duty of each man to live with courage and honor lest he fade forgotten into darkness."

"So, what's this one?"

"Feim. Fade. I don't know what it does quite yet, but we'll find out later," he replied. Lydia followed him back up, the waterfall roaring with life under their trail. The noise faded as they got further away and he pointed to the next bridge. As they got across, they were attacked by yet another Draugr, but Lydia stole the kill.

When things were calm again, he turned to stare at the three stones that were erect from the ground. When he stepped near one, a gate in front of them opened. There were three gates, one for each stone. "So. This here is why the Greybeards taught me that shout," he explained. "Those gates shut after a few seconds. You go through first, I'll keep the gates open for you."

Lydia passed through to the other end of the hallway, and the gates closed. He knew this was part of his test from the Greybeards. With Lydia at the other end, it was his turn to try and get through in the only way he knew how.

"Wuld!"

He shouted and he was carried forward, running as fast as he could, but the gates shut just before Lydia. Chains were installed, so he pulled and the gates leading back to the stones opened, though the last remained closed. He was going to have to try again. This time, he sprinted through the stones and shouted, but the gates closed too soon again and this time he got a face full. "Shit!" he swore, rubbing his face. "That didn't feel good."

Lydia had a hard time holding back her laugh, and some of it escaped. "I'm so sorry, Andrel. But I have to admit, that was a little amusing to watch."

"I'm glad I can entertain you," he retorted. "I'm sure Akatosh is getting a good laugh, as well."

"Try again, you'll get it."

Try again, he did. Again, and again, and again. The gates were quick bastards, and the grotto echoed with his frustrated swearing and groans of pain as he collided again and again with those stubborn gates. "Lydia, this is probably the most annoying thing I've had to do. I'm not saying for sure, but it's up there." He was rubbing at his arms and chest, trying to soothe the aching bruises he knew were developing under his tunic.

"Concentrate, my Thane. You're rushing yourself," Lydia guided from the other side. "You already know these gates are timed. I feel like you've not been going into it with enough confidence and it's holding you back. You're too afraid of not making it through the gates, and it's backfiring on you. Don't be afraid of your power, or it can't help you the way it needs to."

She had a point. He stood at a space that was just a bit between the three stones. Two on his right, one to the left. The gates were straight ahead of him. Taking in a deep breath, he sprinted forward and just as he reached the beginning of the gates, he shouted. His Voice carried him forward through the hallway and he stumbled to his knees at the stairs. He was through, and stood to face Lydia.

"That was a good idea, Lydia. Thanks for the advice," he grinned. "Now come on, we don't know how much longer we're going to be in here but I feel like the worst is over."

"You're welcome. And I knew you could do it, but don't think I'm going to forget how funny it was the first time you crashed into that gate."

"As long as it's just the first time. We don't talk about the other six or seven."

"I think it was more like twelve."

"You're unbelievable," he scoffed, shaking his head. It was all in jest, though, and Lydia knew it. As they got upstairs, he could see the webbing on the walls. "Spiders."

The floor on the platform before them was riddled with more pressure traps. He could get over them easily, but Lydia was not so lucky, especially in her heavy steel plate armor. "These are likely to spit fire. Come here," he ordered. As Lydia got closer, he guided her up the platform in the safe area. There was a landing straight ahead made of some dirt mound. No pressure traps. He needed to get the both of them through this tunnel and he wasn't going home with a roasted Lydia. Securing his arm around her, he looked down. "Hold on tight."

His Voice propelled them across the platform and through the air until they landed on the dirt mound. Lydia was still clinging to him. "You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Let's just k-"

Something behind him hissed and he turned to see a massive spider stalking him. Standing between the creature and Lydia, he shot a fireball at the creature, watching as its sensitive fuzz lit on fire, forcing it away from them. He drew his sword and turned the corner to find the same and another charging them. "Lydia, watch out for those pressure plates. Use a bow if you have to, I'm going forward to deal with them and I'll come back for you."

Ahead he went to another chamber, luring the spiders away from Lydia so she could equip her own weapon. She followed him, bow nocked and ready to fire. There was still room for her to walk to the place Andrel went. She stayed on her safe spot, firing arrows at the spiders while he fought them up close, sword slashing through the beasts. When they were down, he flitted to Lydia and brought her to the safe space of the chamber.

The way ahead was closed with a disgusting, sticky sheet of thick webbing. Using some flames, he melted away the blockage and found a wooden door. It opened to a hallway that gated off another chamber, but he could tell they were almost out, now. Pulling the chain to release the gate, the pair stepped down the staircase. There was a pool of water dotted by grand bird-like statues with open beaks. As he approached, his heart sank in his chest. Something was wrong. Where should have been a horn, was a piece of parchment.

He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. They had cleared all the ruin of its livelier dangers. He'd made it to the end chamber but all his effort was there on that parchment, laughing in his face. Something ugly twisted inside him and he snatched the paper from its resting place, unfolding it in such a way that it tore.

"Andrel?" Lydia asked, peeking over his shoulder. "Is everything alright?"

"No. I'm furious, actually. Somebody beat us to the damn horn, and it doesn't make any sense." Reading over the note, his voice echoed through the chamber.

"Are you going to meet this 'friend'?" Lydia asked.

"I have to get that horn, so I don't suppose I have much of a choice," he sighed. "Come on. We're getting out of here."

Ahead was their way out, and it lead them back up to the initial chamber they'd come through. He was too angry to care about any of the things he was leaving behind, and as soon as they were out of Ustengrav, he mounted his horse and waited for Lydia to mount her horse as well. "Lydia, I think it's best that you and I part ways once we get back to Whiterun."

"Of course, my Thane. I understand."

"Thank you. I will be back for you in due time."

Once they were back in Whiterun, Lydia dismounted at the stable and he pressed onward to Riverwood. The Sleeping Giant Inn was the first building in as he entered the city and he dismounted, tying Allie off. As he entered the Inn, he saw the innkeeper. "I'd like to rent the attic room," he said, offering ten shiny Septims.

"We don't have an attic room," the woman said as she took his money. "But you can take the room there on the left. Make yourself at home."

Exhaling, he strode off to the room she pointed out and crossed his arms as he waited for this mysterious so-called "friend". A few minutes later, the same woman came and stepped into his room, closing the door.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about... I suppose you're looking for this," she said, offering him the horn.

He took a moment to look between her and the object, his brow furrowed. Grabbing the horn, he stuffed it into his bag, but his eyes pierced into the woman. He recognized her voice, and was trying to pinpoint where he'd heard it before, other than the inn.

"We need to talk. Follow me." She lead him across the way to another room and looked at him. "Close the door."

Closing the door behind him, he watched as she fiddled with the wardrobe. "You better have a good reason for dragging me here and wasting my time."

"Calm down," she chastised, revealing a hidden staircase concealed by the wardrobe's back panel. "I'm only trying to help you, I just need you to hear me out."

He didn't like what he was hearing, but he followed her downstairs from the wardrobe door. When they reached her basement room, she turned to him.

"The Greybeards seem to think you're Dragonborn. I hope they're right."

"You realize, I hope, how insane you sound," he pointed out.

"You'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so," she said, rolling her eyes. "I just handed you the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn, too?"

His temper was rising, and he shook his head. "With or without your approval, I am the Dragonborn. Do not patronize me. I don't have to stand here and listen to you disrespect me like this." Turning on his heel, he started for the staircase. "If you truly want to talk to me and want me to hear you out, perhaps you should spend some time down here thinking on how you should address me."

He returned to Whiterun, seeking out the refuge of his bed as soon as he stepped foot inside Breezehome. Lydia kept her distance from him, knowing he needed space and to clear his mind. She was tired, herself. The next morning when she awoke, he'd already left for Ivarstead.

When he reached High Hrothgar, Master Arngeir was waiting for him.

"Dragonborn," he greeted. "It's good to see you, again. You've grown stronger."

"I have the horn," he announced as he pulled the horn out and offered it to Arngeir. Arngeir bowed his head, but he didn't take the horn.

"Well done, Dragonborn. You have passed your last test from us."

The other three Greybeards entered the vestibule of the monastery and Master Arngeir stood off to the side. "Master Wulfgar will now teach you the last word of Unrelenting Force."

Standing before Master Wulfgar, he allowed the old monk to teach him the next word.

"'Dah' means 'push'," Arngeir explained. "With these three words together, your Thu'um will be more fine-tuned in the direction of your target. Force creates the power, balance stabilizes you, and push gives you precision of direction."

"Thank you, Master Arngeir."

"You have completed your training, Dragonborn," Arngeir said with a gentle smile. "We would Speak to you. Stand between us, and prepare yourself. Few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards. But you are ready."

As he stood in the center of the room, the Greybeards surrounded him. As they began to speak, the entire temple began to shake. Their Voices together were thunderous and loud. He was glad he'd not chosen to bring Lydia along on this trip.

"Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau! Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth! Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom! Dahmaan daar rok!"

It was hard to stay upright with how much the ground shook as they Shouted at him. When the rumbling ceased, he straightened his posture. Arngeir approached him again, bowing. His voice was gentle, again. "Dovahkiin. You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed. High Hrothgar is open to you."

"A question, Master... Out of curiosity."

"Of course, Dovahkiin. What is it?"

"What did you actually say to me, just then?"

The Greybeard chuckled. "Ah. I sometimes you forget you are not versed in the dragon tongue as we are. This is a rough translation: "Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."

"Ysmir..." he repeated. "That's more of a given name than a title, isn't it?"

"It is, yes. It is a name that must be earned. The Greybeards would still refer to you by your true name, Dovahkiin, but in the general public you have more than earned the right to use Ysmir as your common name."

"I'll have to think about it," he said. "Until then, I have more questions for you. Might we sit?"

"Of course, Dovahkiin. Lead the way."

He trailed off to that large room with the stone table where he took his place at the end. "It's been half a year since I last saw you all. In that time, I've been delving into research on the dragons and the Dragon Wars."

"Commendable. And what did you learn, Dovahkiin?" Arngeir asked.

"Alduin has returned, I know this. I decided to look into it a little more. My housecarl had a few books to recommend to me, and I found a prophecy. 'When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding, the World-Eater wakes and the wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn'."

Master Arngeir's eyebrow rose and he leaned forward in his seat, his arms resting on the table. "Yes, I'm familiar with it. As we said when you departed us last, there is much we know that you do not."

"So Alduin is the World-Eater. When I was escaping Helgen with that Imperial officer, he said the dragons were the bringers of the end-times."

"Yes. And?"

"Alduin is supposed to devour the world and bring the opportunity for new life to be created," he explained. "But in the Dragon Wars, he became a glutton for power and he rejected his role. That was how his tyranny began."

"Carry on," Arngeir encouraged.

"I don't think Alduin is back because he wants to end the world. He's had his taste of power, and he doesn't want to let it go. He's strayed from the purpose Akatosh laid out for him, and that's why he was betrayed in the end, and why the old Nords staged an uprising."

"You have been doing your research, Dovahkiin. What else do you think?"

"I think, now that Alduin is back, he wants things to go back to the way they were before he was cast aside. And this is why I'm here. I'm supposed to kill him so then Akatosh can restore him to his initial purpose. The world may not end now, or even a thousand years from now, but it will end. We can't avoid it. That's Alduin's destiny, and no matter how much we may want to stop it, it will have to happen, eventually."

"And you've accepted this?"

"I guess, in a way I have. Humans can be selfish creatures, especially in matters of life and death. In the end, we're always going to want to save our own necks. But I know now is not our time. It's unlikely that any of us will be alive when that time comes," he replied, drawing circles on the table with his finger. "It's just a matter of finding out how I can stop him. If I can stop him."

"You will be fine, Dovahkiin," Master Arngeir reassured him. "You've come this far already, and you have a very interesting perspective on your situation. When you came to us, you didn't know what your destiny was."

"Right."

"And we told you, we cannot show you your destiny. We can only guide your path. Your actions are your own, we are simply here to help you. We are proud of how far you've come, just on your own."

"Another thing... When I got to the end of Ustengrav, the horn wasn't there."

Arngeir seemed surprised by this. "How is this possible?"

"It doesn't make much sense to me, either. Somebody bypassed everything I had to do. I think she came in the opposite way. When we reached that chamber, the two sarcophagi in there were already opened and the draugr they contained were dead. But with the way Lydia and I went, we had to plow through draugr, spiders, and there were a few mages holed up in the first chamber."

"So where was the horn?" Arngeir asked. "I'm not upset with you, I assure you. You went through the honest way."

"It ended up being with the innkeeper of Riverwood, believe it or not. You should have heard her. She said, 'I just handed you the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, does that make Dragonborn, too?'. I was livid. She mentioned the Greybeards, too."

"Be careful of this woman, Dovahkiin," Master Arngeir warned. "What did she say? Just because they were able to get to the horn before you, in no way does it make them Dragonborn. The Greybeards do not pay mind to trickery and false claims."

"She basically said she doesn't care if the Greybeards "think" I'm Dragonborn, which is ridiculous at best. Once she gave me that line about the horn, I left. She still wants to talk to me about things, but I told her to watch her tongue. With or without her approval, I am the Dragonborn. I will not allow her to disrespect me, or you. You've all been helping me."

"We appreciate you, Dovahkiin. I do advise caution with this woman, and we hope she can find it in herself to treat you with the respect you deserve. However, Dovahkiin, it may be in your best interest to at least hear her out, if nothing else. I will be here for you, should you need advice on how to deal with her. Drem. Peace. You mustn't lose your patience with her, or you may do something you regret."

"Thank you, Master Arngeir," he replied. "I believe that's all I have to talk about for now. I must get back to Whiterun. I need to rest, and think about what my next step is, from here."

"Of course, Dovahkiin. Su'um ahrk morah. Breath and focus."

A bow of his head was given to Master Arngeir. The other Greybeards had gone outside to the courtyard, but he would see them again. Stepping out of the monastery, the Dragonborn made his way back down the mountain.