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Chapter 45 - 43. Dragonstone & Big Surprise

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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)

...

The three stone rings locked into place, and the massive steel door slowly, majestically descended into the floor, a cloud of centuries old dust billowing out to welcome them. Aerion quickly pulled the Golden Claw free, safely storing the immensely valuable artifact back into his inventory, and looked into the next room beyond.

​As the massive steel puzzle door ground its way down into the floor, a cloud of centuries old, stagnant dust billowed outward, smelling faintly of dried bone and ancient, petrified wood. Aerion, Jenassa, and Lupin stepped over the recessed threshold, leaving the complex locking mechanism behind.

​The immediate transition was striking. They walked up a short flight of wide, perfectly preserved stone steps. Unlike the lower catacombs, which had been cast in oppressive darkness, this section of the barrow was fully illuminated.

Heavy iron braziers and ancient wall sconces blazed with eternal, smokeless fire. Whether these flames were actively maintained by the mindless, shuffling Draugr or sustained by the ambient, residual magic of the Dragon Cult that permeated the very bedrock of the mountain, Aerion could not say. Regardless, the dancing orange light provided a welcome, comforting contrast to the freezing chill of the tomb.

​They passed through a small, vaulted antechamber, the walls completely devoid of the burial niches that had lined the previous halls. This was not a place for the common dead; this was a pathway reserved for the elite, a ceremonial corridor leading to the heart of the barrow.

​The hallway gradually widened, the worked stone giving way to natural rock as they emerged from the claustrophobic confines of the crypt into a staggering, breathtaking subterranean cavern.

​Jenassa stopped dead in her tracks, letting out a soft, involuntary gasp of genuine awe. "By the Reclamations..." she breathed, her crimson eyes wide as she took in the sheer, monumental scale of the chamber.

​It was a vast, sprawling underground grotto. Towering, worn-out stone pillars, carved with the faded faces of ancient animal totems, reached up to support a ceiling that had partially collapsed. Through massive, jagged holes in the cavern roof far above, thick, brilliant shafts of freezing midday sunlight pierced the gloom, illuminating the dust motes and creating a naturally lit, ethereal arena.

​Their sudden intrusion into the silent cavern disturbed the local wildlife. A massive colony of bats, startled by the torchlight and the crunch of their boots, suddenly detached from the dark recesses of the ceiling. Hundreds of leathery wings beat the air in a chaotic, fluttering crescendo, swarming through the shafts of sunlight like a dark cloud before disappearing into the deeper, uncharted sinkholes of the cave system.

​But it was what lay at the far end of the cavern that commanded their absolute attention.

​Across a dark, rushing subterranean stream spanned by a simple stone and dirt bridge, a raised ceremonial platform dominated the room. Set into the back wall of the platform was a massive, semi circular structure made of smooth, dark stone, a Word Wall.

Intricately carved across its surface were hundreds of glowing, jagged runes of the Dragon Language, centered around a beautifully terrifying mural of a massive dragon breathing fire.

​Resting in the center of the platform, directly in front of the Word Wall and flanked by two roaring braziers, was a single, pristine steel coffin. It was far larger and more ornate than any they had seen thus far, bound in heavy iron chains that looked to have been recently broken.

​"Do not let the beauty of the architecture lower your guard, Jenassa," Aerion warned, his voice a low, commanding murmur that snapped the Dark Elf out of her reverie. "This is the inner sanctum. The resting place of the crypt's master. Whatever is in that coffin is not going to welcome us."

​Jenassa instantly recovered her lethal composure, her awe replaced by professional, calculating focus. She nodded her head in firm confirmation, drawing her steel sword and iron dagger, her knuckles turning white under the strain of her grip. "I am ready, Patron."

​With Lupin staying prudently behind a large cluster of rubble at the cave entrance, Aerion and Jenassa walked slowly across the stone and dirt bridge. The sound of the rushing water below masked their footsteps, but as they stepped off the bridge and began to ascend the short flight of stone steps leading up to the platform, the ambient magic in the room seemed to violently shift.

​BOOM!

​The sound was deafening, like a boulder striking an anvil.

​The heavy steel lid of the coffin didn't just slide off; it was violently punched straight up into the air from the inside, flipping end over end before crashing heavily against the stone floor.

​Aerion and Jenassa immediately dropped into a combat stance.

​Rising slowly, impossibly from the depths of the steel sarcophagus was a nightmare forged in the Merethic Era. This was no ordinary, shambling corpse. It was a Draugr Overlord.

The undead monstrosity was massive, standing over seven feet tall. It was clad in a full, heavy set of ancient Nordic iron armor that had somehow resisted the decay of time, topped with a terrifying, twin-horned iron helmet.

​But the most dangerous aspect of the creature was the weapon it drew from its back. It was a massive, two handed Ancient Nord Battleaxe. The moment the Overlord gripped the hilt, the heavy iron blades erupted into a roaring, magical inferno.

The major fire enchantment crackled and hissed, casting a demonic, flickering light across the Overlord's withered, leather like face and its piercing, glowing blue eyes.

​Aerion's heart hammered against his ribs. He knew exactly what an Overlord was capable of. It wasn't just a physical powerhouse, it possessed the ancient, forgotten magic of the Thu'um.

​"Jenassa, listen to me!" Aerion roared over the crackle of the flaming axe, his golden eyes wide with urgency. "Do not let it speak! That creature can Shout! Attack its face, strike its throat, bash its mouth, do whatever you have to do to keep it staggered! If it draws a deep breath, silence it!"

​Jenassa's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock. The ancient tales of the Tongues and the Thu'um were widely considered myth by modern scholars.

But as her mind raced, she remembered the terrifying, hushed stories currently spreading across Skyrim like wildfire, the stories of how Ulfric Stormcloak had literally shouted High King Torygg to pieces in Solitude. If a modern man could do it, an ancient warlord absolutely could.

​"Understood!" Jenassa shouted, completely abandoning any thought of a defensive, drawn-out duel.

​The Draugr Overlord stepped out of the coffin, its heavy boots cracking the stone. It raised its flaming battleaxe, its glowing blue eyes locking onto the High Elf, and opened its withered, terrifying jaws, drawing in a massive, unnatural lungful of air to unleash its devastating Unrelenting Force.

​"FUS—"

​It never finished the syllable.

​Jenassa moved with blinding, desperate speed. She didn't swing her sword at its heavily armored torso. Instead, she threw herself into the air, using a piece of rubble as a springboard, and drove the heavy steel pommel of her sword directly into the Overlord's jaw with every ounce of her momentum.

​The kinetic impact was brutal. The Overlord's jaw snapped to the side with a sickening crunch of ancient bone, forcefully interrupting the Shout. A shockwave of displaced air rippled from its mouth, harmlessly dissipating against the cavern walls instead of blasting them off the platform.

​Aerion capitalized on the stagger instantly. He abandoned the use of his Frost Sword, holstering it to free both of his hands. He tapped into the absolute maximum limits of his magical reservoir, his Fast Magic Mastery skill redlining.

​He became a localized storm of elemental destruction.

​From his right hand, he unleashed a rapid fire, relentless bombardment of superheated Fireballs, aiming them specifically at the Overlord's chest and shoulders, carefully threading the magical artillery past Jenassa's agile, dodging form.

From his left hand, he summoned the raw, chaotic power of the sky, blasting the undead warlord with continuous, jagged bolts of blinding violet lightning.

​The cavern was entirely illuminated by the strobe light effect of the alternating magic. The Draugr Overlord roared in fury, shrugging off damage that would have vaporized a normal man. It swung its flaming battleaxe in a massive, sweeping horizontal arc, attempting to cleave Jenassa in half.

​The Dark Elf barely managed to slide under the burning blade, the heat singeing the tips of her dark hair.

​As Jenassa rolled away to create distance, the Overlord pivoted with terrifying speed, locking its glowing eyes on the true source of its pain, the Altmer mage. It charged Aerion, raising the flaming battleaxe high above its horned helmet for a devastating, skull-crushing downward strike.

​Aerion didn't retreat. He kept up the magical bombardment until the absolute last possible second. As the flaming axe descended, Aerion violently twisted his torso to the right.

​He wasn't quite fast enough to dodge it entirely. The heavy, burning iron blade grazed the left side of his body, slicing cleanly through the fine fabric of his robes and biting into the flesh over his ribs. The sheer, blunt force trauma of the blow, combined with the searing heat of the fire enchantment, sent a shocking wave of pain through his nervous system.

​But the systemic, defensive matrix of his Light Armor skill flared to life, drastically mitigating the kinetic energy of the heavy strike. What should have been a bisecting, fatal blow was reduced to a painful, bleeding, localized burn and a shallow laceration.

​[Light Armor Leveled Up to 47... 48... 49... 50... 51... 52... 53!]

​Ignoring the searing pain in his side, Aerion stepped directly into the Overlord's guard. With the creature overextended from its heavy swing, Aerion pressed both of his glowing, magically charged palms directly against the center of the Draugr's rusted iron breastplate.

​He unleashed every ounce of fire and lightning he had currently gathered into a single, localized, dual-cast detonation.

​The explosion was catastrophic. The concussive force blew the Draugr Overlord's chest cavity entirely apart. The ancient iron armor shattered into molten shrapnel, and the creature's spine simply vaporized under the intense magical heat.

The top half of the Overlord separated from its legs, crashing backward into the smoldering ruins of its own steel coffin, the glowing blue light in its eyes flickering wildly before finally dying out forever.

​Silence slammed back into the cavern, broken only by the crackle of the Overlord's flaming axe, which had clattered to the stone floor.

​Aerion dropped to one knee, clutching his bleeding, burned side. He was breathing heavily, his lungs burning from the exertion, but the golden notifications flooding his vision confirmed the overwhelming success of the battle.

​[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up 10 Times! Current Level: 62!]

​"Patron!" Jenassa sprinted over to him, her breathing equally ragged. She knelt beside him, her eyes tracking the blood seeping through his scorched robes. "You took a hit from the enchanted axe. We need to bandage that immediately."

​"Stand still," Aerion commanded through gritted teeth.

​He pushed her hands away, pressing his own glowing right hand against his side. He channeled his Restoration magic. The familiar, soothing golden light poured into the burn and the laceration.

The cooling magic instantly neutralized the residual heat of the Overlord's enchantment, aggressively knitting the torn muscle fibers and generating fresh, unblemished skin over the wound.

​Noticing that Jenassa was favoring her left leg, likely having pulled a muscle or taken a minor sprain during her desperate, acrobatic dodge, Aerion reached out and grabbed her shoulder. He pushed the restorative golden light into her body as well, flushing the fatigue and minor injuries from her system.

​[Restoration (Healing) Leveled Up to 32... 33... 34... 35... 36... 37!]

​"Better," Aerion exhaled, standing back up and brushing the soot from his newly mended robes.

​"I have never seen magic like that," Jenassa murmured, rolling her shoulders and finding herself completely refreshed. She looked at the smoldering remains of the Overlord. "It was going to Shout. Just like the legends. If you hadn't warned me..."

​"We fought perfectly," Aerion assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You saved us both. Now, let us claim our prize."

​Aerion walked over to the ruined steel coffin. Resting amidst the ashes of the Overlord, completely untouched by the fire and lightning, was a heavy, irregularly shaped slab of dark gray stone.

It was carved with a crude map of Skyrim, dotted with strange, star like markers, and covered in the jagged runes of the Dragon Language on the back.

​It was the Dragonstone.

​Aerion reached down and picked it up with both hands. It was incredibly heavy, feeling dense and cold to the touch.

​Jenassa walked up beside him, looking at the strange rock with furrowed brows. "So... this is what you wanted to take, Patron? A heavy piece of carved granite? We fought through a crypt of the restless dead and a Shouting ancient Draugr for a map?"

​"Yes," Aerion nodded his head, a triumphant smile touching his lips. "This is an incredibly important, highly localized artifact necessary for my magical research. The court wizard in Whiterun will pay dearly for the privilege of studying it."

​With a thought, Aerion stored the massive tablet into his spatial inventory. He felt a noticeable, heavy drag on his mind as his total weight increased by exactly 3 KG.

​He then walked over to where the Overlord's weapon had fallen. He picked up the Ancient Nord Battleaxe. It was heavy, perfectly balanced, and still radiating a wave of intense heat from the major fire enchantment woven into the steel.

He safely stored it in his inventory as well, adding another 2.5 KG to his load. It would serve as an excellent weapon for one of his mercenaries, or as a highly valuable piece to disenchant later.

​With the primary quest objective secured, Aerion finally turned his attention to the true power resting in the room.

​He approached the massive, dark stone Word Wall. The moment he stepped within a few feet of it, the ambient magic in the cavern shifted again. He could hear it, a low, rhythmic, almost hypnotic chanting echoing in the back of his mind.

A choir of ancient voices singing in a language he did not understand, drawing him closer. One specific word on the mural, carved near the bottom of the structure, began to pulse with a brilliant, blinding blue light.

​Aerion reached into his inventory. He pulled out the pristine crow feather, the small glass inkwell, and Arvel's blank journal. He fully intended to manually transcribe the glowing rune, hoping to study the geometry of the magic later.

​He stepped up to the wall, resting his left hand against the cold stone to steady himself as he prepared to write.

​The exact instant his bare skin touched the stone beneath the glowing rune, a massive, screen shattering blue notification window exploded in his mind's eye.

​[Word of Power Detected: FUS (Force)]

[Would you like to learn the first of the three words of the Unrelenting Force Shout?]

[Notice: The system will permanently integrate this knowledge, allowing the word to be used instantly without the consumption of a Dragon Soul.]

[ YES / NO ]

​Aerion froze. The quill slipped from his fingers, clattering uselessly against the stone floor. He stared at the floating blue text, his heart pounding in his chest.

​He was completely, profoundly shocked. In the game, absorbing a word from a wall simply added it to the menu, it remained locked and utterly useless until the player killed a dragon and absorbed its soul to unlock the understanding.

​But his system was offering him a shortcut. A massive, world breaking shortcut. It was offering to bypass the requirement of a dragon soul entirely, downloading the sheer, cosmic understanding of the Thu'um directly into his brain.

​But hesitation, cold and sharp, gripped his mind.

​His Gamer side was screaming at him to click YES. It was free power. It was the iconic Fus Ro Dah. It was the ultimate crowd control ability.

​But his logical, Altmer side, the side that understood the geopolitical and cosmic reality of Skyrim, pulled back in sheer terror. If he learned the Shout, what would happen? Would the Greybeards, sitting high atop the Throat of the World, hear it and summon him? If the Greybeards summoned him, that meant the universe recognized him as the Dragonborn.

And if he was the Dragonborn, that meant Alduin the World-Eater would actively hunt him down. He was powerful, yes, but he was absolutely not ready to fight a literal god of destruction.

​He mulled over the terrifying paradox. If he clicked yes, he might doom himself to a destiny he didn't want. But at the same time, the system specifically stated 'The system will permanently integrate this knowledge.' It didn't say it was activating his dragon blood. It implied the system was doing the heavy lifting, essentially 'hacking' the magic of the world for him.

​Aerion weighed the risks. The civil war was escalating. The Thalmor were moving. Vampires and dragons were inevitably going to become a problem.

Having the power of the Thu'um in his back pocket was simply too massive of an advantage to pass up. He would take the risk. If the system protected his identity, excellent. If the Greybeards summoned him anyway, he would just have to adapt and survive.

​Steeling his resolve, Aerion mentally pressed YES.

​The glowing blue rune on the wall flashed blindingly bright, the light surging directly into his hand, racing up his arm, and slamming into his mind. The chanting in his head reached a deafening crescendo before silencing instantly.

​A profound, terrifying understanding settled into his soul. He didn't just know the word, he understood the fundamental concept of Force. He understood how to align his vocal cords, his body, and his sheer willpower to project kinetic energy through sound.

​[Shout Learned: FUS (Force)]

Description: The first syllable of telling gravity to take a vacation. Fus pushes things. Hard. Excellent for clearing off messy tables, silencing annoying Jarls, or sending heavily armored bandits flying off very high cliffs. Warning: Please do not use indoors near fragile alchemy equipment.

​Immediately following the first notification, a second, incredibly rare golden window appeared.

[New Skill Unlocked: Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL)]

Description: Cooldowns? What are cooldowns? The system has successfully installed the 'No Shout Cooldown' modification into your reality matrix. Your vocal cords are now coated in divine honey and reinforced titanium. You no longer suffer from vocal exhaustion. Spam away, Dragon-voice.

​Aerion stared at the second notification, sheer, unadulterated joy bubbling up in his chest. He had just received the equivalent of a cheat code in reality. He could use the Shout back to back without waiting for the magical reverberations in his throat to settle. It was an apocalyptic level of power.

​He stood there in silence for a long, agonizing minute, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He waited for a system notification to boldly declare:

[Congratulations! You are the Dragonborn!]

Nothing happened.

​He let out a long, shaky breath, a profound wave of relief washing over him. For now, it seemed his secret was safe. The system had granted him the power without attaching the cosmic destiny.

He would still wait to see if the Greybeards' thunderous summons shook the skies when he returned to Whiterun, but for this moment, he was simply a very wealthy, incredibly overpowered High Elf.

​"Patron?"

​Jenassa's confused voice broke through his thoughts. He turned his head slightly. The Dark Elf was standing a few feet away, her weapons sheathed, looking at him with deep concern.

​"What are you doing?" Jenassa asked, gesturing to the blank journal still resting in his hand and the quill lying on the floor. "You have been standing there in absolute silence for two minutes, staring at the rock, and you haven't written a single word. Did the magic of the wall affect your mind?"

​Aerion let out a soft, genuine laugh, bending down to pick up his fallen quill. "No, Jenassa," Aerion smiled, turning away from the now dormant Word Wall, the power of the ancient dragons resting comfortably in his throat. "The magic did not affect my mind. It merely enlightened it. Come. Our work here is done."

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[Main Panel] Name: Aerion Race: High Elf (Altmer) Health: 320/320 Stamina: 310/310 Magicka: 450/450 Level: 65

Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL) - NEW, Destruction (Fire/Lightning) (Level MAX/62), Persuasion (Level 71), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 26), One Handed (Level 67), Restoration (Healing) (Level 37), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 9), Archery (Level 72), Alteration (Level 4), Enchanting (Level 19), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 60), Illusion (Level 6), Pickpocket (Level 8)

Shouts: Fus (Force) - NEW

[Inventory Panel]

1x Steel Dagger, Potions of Minor Stamina, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Copper and Onyx Circlet, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Provision Bag, Silver Ring, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Copper Garnet Necklace, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Ancient Nord Bow, Dragonstone, & Ancient Nord Battleaxe Of Blaze

2x Gold Garnet Rings, Gold Ring, Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, & Lesser Soul Gem,

3x Silver Rings, Sapphire, Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, Scroll Of Fireball, & Glowing Mushrooms

4x Lockpicks, Potions of Minor Magicka, Silver Garnet Rings, & Spider Eggs

6x Ruby & Amethyst

7x Potions Of Minor Healing

8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows

Weight: 118.40 KG / 455 KG

Septims = 51,398

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