If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"Tomorrow, Aeloria, we return to the path the gods laid out for you," Aerion answered smoothly, his melodic voice completely steady. "We ride back to Ivarstead. We climb the Seven Thousand Steps yet again." He looked directly at her, sealing the itinerary. "Tomorrow, we give the Horn to the Greybeards, and we will get the knowledge that the Greybeards possibly know."
Aeloria stared at the High Elf for a long, quiet moment, the weight of his itinerary settling heavily over her exhausted shoulders. The adrenaline of the battle, the political maneuvering, and the logistical nightmare of hauling the dragon had finally run its course. She was running on absolute fumes.
Hearing his plan, Aeloria nodded her head slowly, a tired but resolute smile touching her lips.
"If we are climbing the Seven Thousand Steps again tomorrow," Aeloria sighed, pushing her empty goblet away, "then we absolutely should take a rest right now. Tomorrow is going to be another incredibly long day, and I don't think my calves have fully forgiven me from the first climb."
A chorus of exhausted, murmured agreements rippled around the large wooden dining table.
With the night's agenda officially concluded, the strike team dispersed to their designated quarters. Jenassa and Aeloria retreated to the secondary bedroom, claiming the two comfortable single beds.
Valdemar and Lydia, ever the dutiful protectors, simply unrolled their heavy winter bedrolls directly onto the woven rugs in the main living room, positioning themselves strategically near the front door.
Lupin, completely unbothered by the day's apocalyptic events, trotted over to a thick, incredibly soft mammoth fur carpet near the dying embers of the hearth and curled into a tight, cinnamon colored ball of sleep.
Aerion walked quietly into the spacious, luxurious master bedroom at the rear of the homestead.
He closed the heavy oak door behind him, entirely shutting out the ambient noises of the house. The room was dark, illuminated only by the pale, silver moonlight streaming through the reinforced glass window.
Aerion did not immediately collapse onto the massive, fur draped mattress. He stood in the center of the room, his mind entirely clear, and seamlessly engaged his digital interface.
The day had been an absolute crucible of high tier combat.
He had continuously chained master level Destruction spells, actively sustained a Greater Ward against a dragon's breath, and outputted a reality warping Restoration magic to mend shattered bones. The sheer volume of combat data his transmigrator soul had absorbed was staggering, and it was time to harvest the yield.
The massive, semi-translucent golden text violently flared to life in his vision.
[Skill Level Up Summary]
[Destruction (Fire) (+3) Leveled Up 30 Times! Current Level: 97]
Aerion felt a deep, thrumming heat radiate through his cellular structure. His continuous, hyper condensed fire bombardments against Sahloknir, especially it's underbelly, had pushed his Fire magic to the absolute breaking point, bringing him agonizingly close to the legendary ceiling once more.
[Destruction (Lightning) (+1) Leveled Up 25 Times!]
[Destruction (Lightning) (+1) has reached MAX LEVEL!]
A massive, incredibly satisfying surge of raw, crackling electrical dominance flooded his nervous system. The sheer voltage required to completely paralyze a dragon mid flight had completely overloaded the skill's progression bar, slamming it directly into the maximum ceiling.
[Destruction (Frost) (+1) Leveled Up 28 Times! Current Level: 84]
[Restoration (Healing) (+1) Leveled Up 27 Times! Current Level: 79]
[Light Armor (+1) Leveled Up 32 Times! Current Level: 50]
His mastery over the elements was scaling exponentially. The massive wave of Grand Healing he had cast to save the vanguard from the dragon's strafing run had deeply solidified his connection to divine magic, while the kinetic shockwaves of the battle had rapidly rebuilt his physical durability.
And then came the overarching reward.
[LEVEL UP DETECTED!]
[You have leveled up 12 times! You are now Level 170!]
[You have gained 12 Attribute Points!]
Aerion smiled, a deep, highly satisfied expression entirely hidden in the dark.
With the thirteen unspent attribute points he had strategically hoarded from the Volunruud expedition earlier that morning, he now possessed a massive, reality altering pool of twenty five attribute points. It was time to permanently rewrite his biological limitations.
He accessed the allocation menu, his mind rapidly calculating the optimal distribution for the impending trials.
[Attribute Point Allocated: Stamina x10 (+100 Points)]
[Inventory Weight Limit Increased by 50 KG. Current Max Weight: 95.21 / 630 KG]
He funneled a massive portion into his Stamina matrix. He didn't just need the endless cardio for climbing mountains; he desperately needed to continuously expand his spatial inventory limit. The dragon bones had taken a toll, and he needed the buffer for future mythological hoarding.
[Attribute Point Allocated: Health x7 (+70 Points)]
[Attribute Point Allocated: Magicka x8 (+80 Points)]
The integration of the points was instantaneous and euphoric.
A wave of profound, absolute vitality washed completely through him. His bones hardened, his muscle fibers growing incredibly dense beneath his skin, rendering him terrifyingly resilient to physical trauma. Simultaneously, his internal well of Magicka violently expanded, deepening into a bottomless, roaring ocean of arcane potential.
With his attributes perfectly balanced, Aerion shifted his attention to the final piece of the evening's housekeeping.
[Confirm Legendary Reset for Skill: Sneak?]
[Confirmed. Level reset to: 0 (+1)]
[Confirm Legendary Reset for Skill: Destruction (Lightning) (+1)?]
[Confirmed. Level reset to: 0 (+2)]
The numerical caps were violently stripped away. His stealth matrix reset, granting him a fresh slate of progression, while his Lightning affinity evolved, earning the coveted (+2) designation that marked him as a known future god of storms.
With his power fully consolidated and his inventory perfectly organized, Aerion finally dismissed the interface. He undressed, slipped beneath the heavy, incredibly soft mammoth furs of the master bed, and fell into a deep, dreamless, perfectly restorative sleep.
The next morning, the crisp, golden light of the Whiterun sun filtered beautifully through the windows of the estate.
Aerion awoke naturally, entirely refreshed, the lingering fatigue of the dragon fight completely eradicated by his massive Stamina reserves. He dressed with his usual, meticulous care, adjusting the dark, elegant fabric of his robes.
As he approached the heavy oak door of his bedroom, he paused.
Filtering through the thick wood was the distinct, light, melodic sound of morning conversation. He could hear Aeloria's boisterous laugh, Jenassa's dry, soft tone, and a third, incredibly familiar, sweet voice that made his heart skip a beat.
Aerion opened the door and stepped out into the main living room.
He was immediately greeted by a scene of surprising domestic warmth. The central hearth fire had been stoked back to life, crackling cheerfully. Standing near the front entrance, perfectly rigid and highly alert, were Valdemar and Lydia.
But the center of attention was the small, polished wooden bar counter separating the kitchen from the living area.
Sitting on top of the counter were two large, beautifully woven wicker baskets covered in checkered linen cloths.
And standing behind the counter, actively engaged in a bright, animated conversation with Aeloria and Jenassa, was Ysolda.
She looked absolutely stunning, completely contrasting the battered, steel clad reality of the mercenaries. She wore a simple, beautifully tailored civilian dress of deep blue and white, her auburn hair falling perfectly around her shoulders, her bright eyes shining with genuine happiness.
As Aerion stepped into the room, Ysolda turned her head. The moment she saw him, her conversation with the Dragonborn immediately halted. A beautiful, light pink blush violently rushed across her cheeks, and a sweet, incredibly warm smile illuminated her face.
"Good morning, Aerion," Ysolda greeted him, her voice soft and inherently affectionate.
The entire room seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second.
Aeloria, who had been mid sentence complaining about the dents in her armor, practically dropped her jaw.
The Dragonborn's bright blue eyes darted rapidly between the towering, notoriously calculating High Elf and the sweet, ambitious merchant from the Whiterun market. She was completely, blindsided by the sudden show of intimacy.
Valdemar and Lydia exchanged a highly professional, yet thoroughly surprised glance.
Jenassa, however, merely leaned against the counter and took a slow sip from a wooden mug of water, a dry, knowing smirk playing on her lips. She had been guarding Aerion long enough to know the background, she had seen Ysolda's lingering looks in the Bannered Mare, and she knew her Patron had agreed to try cultivating a relationship.
But from the look of the blindingly bright blush on the merchant's face, the trial period was over. They were officially a pair of lovers.
Aerion completely ignored the stunned silence of his strike team.
The cold, calculating, sociopathic mask he wore for the world instantly melted away, replaced by a much warmer, genuinely tender smile that reached his golden eyes. He walked smoothly across the room, approaching the bar counter.
He didn't offer a formal bow. He simply reached out, gently taking Ysolda's soft hand in his own, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
"Good morning, my dear," Aerion returned the greeting, his melodic voice incredibly warm. He looked down at her, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "It is a beautiful surprise to see you, but the hour is incredibly early. Why did you come all the way out to the plains?"
Hearing the question, Ysolda's blush deepened, and she pouted playfully, her eyes sparkling with mock offense.
"Well, if I am not allowed to come visit my partner in the morning, then I suppose I just won't come out here anymore," Ysolda teased him, gently pulling her hand back a fraction of an inch, though she didn't actually let go of his fingers. "I'll just stay in the city."
Aerion chuckled, a rich, genuine sound that completely baffled Aeloria. He gently squeezed her hand, pulling her slightly closer.
"Of course it is not like that, Ysolda. You are welcome here at any hour," Aerion corrected her softly, his tone entirely sincere. "I merely meant that you could have sent a courier with a letter. I would have gladly woken up early, ridden into the city, and picked you up myself, rather than having you walk the roads or ride a horse out here all alone. The plains are not entirely safe for a civilian."
Ysolda's playful pout melted instantly into a beaming, deeply touched smile. The sheer, overprotective care in his voice made her heart flutter.
"It is okay, Aerion. You don't need to worry about my safety today," Ysolda reassured him, gesturing toward the front door. "I didn't come alone. I rode out here with Sinmir and a couple of the boys from the company. They came into the city market right at dawn to buy a massive bulk order of food supplies for the barracks, so I just hitched a walk with them on their way back."
She then lightly tapped his arm, shifting the focus away from the logistics.
"Now, stop talking so much," Ysolda scolded him gently, pulling the checkered linen cloths off the two woven baskets. "I brought breakfast for you and your friends, and it's going to get cold."
The smell was absolutely heavenly. The baskets were packed with fresh, warm, crusty loaves of bread from the Whiterun ovens, several sweetrolls dripping with icing, thick slices of roasted ham, and a large, heavy thermos filled with hot, spiced apple cider.
"You are a blessing, Ysolda," Aeloria practically groaned, immediately reaching for a sweetroll. The Dragonborn's shock at the romance was instantly overridden by her appetite.
They gathered around the dining table, breaking the fresh bread and passing the hot cider. The atmosphere in the house was incredibly light and domestic, a perfect, grounded contrast to the apocalyptic dragon fight they had survived the day prior.
As Aerion ate, sitting comfortably close to Ysolda, she turned slightly in her chair to look at him, a hint of genuine concern touching her eyes.
"I was talking with Aeloria before you woke up," Ysolda mentioned softly, keeping her voice low so as not to interrupt the boisterous banter of the Housecarls. "She told me that you all are leaving again today. She said you are heading back to High Hrothgar."
Aerion nodded his head, finishing a piece of bread. "Yes, we are. The Dragonborn has an artifact to deliver to the Greybeards, and I must accompany her to ensure the pilgrimage is secure."
Ysolda reached under the table, gently resting her hand on his knee. She knew he was incredibly powerful, but she also knew the dangers of the world.
"Please be careful on the trip, Aerion," Ysolda asked sincerely, her eyes searching his. "I know you are strong, but the mountains are treacherous. And... when you return from the peak, I was hoping we could actually spend some quiet time together in the city. Before you have to leave to do whatever grand, dangerous things you always seem to be doing."
Aerion looked down at the beautiful, ambitious woman who grounded his transmigrator soul to this reality. He smiled, a promise etched into his flawless features.
"I will be entirely safe, Ysolda," Aerion swore softly, placing his hand over hers. "And I promise you, the absolute moment we descend from that mountain, my time is yours."
They finished their breakfast in a comfortable, warm peace. But the sun was climbing higher in the sky, and the mountain was waiting.
"Alright, form up!" Aeloria announced, clapping her hands together as she stood from the table. "Armor on, weapons checked! The Greybeards don't wait for latecomers!"
The strike team immediately snapped into gear, the heavy clanking of steel plates and the strapping of leather packs filling the room.
Ysolda stood up from the table, smoothing her blue dress.
"I should take my leave and let you all prepare," Ysolda said, walking toward the front door.
"I will have Sinmir hitch a horse for you to ride back to the gates," Aerion offered, stepping away from the table to escort her out.
"No, actually, I think I will walk back," Ysolda smiled, looking out the open door at the bright, clear morning. "The weather is absolutely beautiful today, and I honestly want to enjoy the fresh air and the walk across the plains. It's peaceful."
Aerion frowned slightly, his tactical paranoia instantly flaring. A dragon had literally just been hauled across these plains twelve hours ago. There was absolutely no way he was letting his partner walk the main road completely unescorted.
"If you insist on walking, you will not do so alone," Aerion compromised smoothly, leaving no room for argument. He stepped out onto the porch and raised his voice. "Uthgerd!"
The fierce, heavily armored Nord woman immediately jogged over from the barracks, a heavy greatsword strapped to her back.
"Boss?" Uthgerd asked.
"Gather two of the other girls," Aerion commanded. "You three are to act as a personal escort for Ysolda. Walk her directly to the main gates of Whiterun, and do not let a single bandit, wolf, or stray dog come within fifty feet of her."
Uthgerd grinned fiercely, giving Ysolda a respectful nod. "Consider it done, Boss. She'll be safer than the Jarl himself."
With the security detail arranged, Ysolda turned back to Aerion.
She didn't care about the heavily armored mercenaries watching them. She stepped entirely into his personal space, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a warm, lingering, incredibly sweet hug.
Aerion immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, returning the embrace, completely ignoring the world around them for a few precious seconds.
From the courtyard, Sinmir and a couple of the rougher sellswords immediately let out a chorus of loud, jovial whistles and cheers, heavily amused by their stoic Patron's public display of affection.
Ysolda pulled back quickly, her face burning a brilliant, bright red, though she was smiling widely.
"I will see you when you return," Ysolda whispered, stepping away.
She turned and practically jogged out the front gates, flanked immediately by Uthgerd and the two heavily armed female mercenaries, leaving Aerion standing on the porch with a soft smile.
Ten minutes later, the group was fully armored, packed, and standing in the dirt courtyard.
"Are we ready?" Aerion asked, his golden eyes sweeping over Aeloria, Jenassa, Valdemar, and Lydia.
"Ready, my Thane," Valdemar confirmed.
They marched out of the estate gates and approached the carriage parked on the side of the road. Bjorlam was already sitting on the bench, looking significantly more rested than he had the day before.
"Morning, folks!" Bjorlam greeted them. "No dragons to haul today, I hope?"
"Just ourselves, Bjorlam," Aerion replied smoothly.
He accessed his digital void, pulling a heavy pouch of coins into his hand, and tossed it up to the driver.
"Fifty septims, Bjorlam," Aerion instructed. "Take us to Ivarstead."
Bjorlam caught the gold with a wide grin. "You got it, my Thane! Climb aboard!"
The heavily armored team clambered into the back of the covered wagon, their armor clanking loudly. Aerion took his seat, Lupin curling up across his boots.
Bjorlam cracked the heavy leather reins, and the draft horse pulled the carriage forward. They rolled down the cobblestone highway, heading south until they reached the intersection, and then turned smoothly to the east. They were utilizing the exact same winding, dirt roads of the Rift they had traveled just a few days prior, heading back toward the towering, misty base of the Throat of the World. The Horn of Jurgen Windcaller rested securely in Aeloria's pack, completely ready to fulfill the ancient prophecy.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 610/610 Stamina: 660/660 Magicka: 830/830
Level: 158 ➝ 170
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Dragon Master (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+3)/Lightning(+2)/Frost(+1)) (Level 97/0/84), Restoration (Healing(+1)/Purify(+2)) (Level 79/50), Alteration (Level 35), Illusion (Level 50), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning(+1)) (Level 37/38), Persuasion(+1) (Level 89), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak(+1) (Level 0), One Handed(+1) (Level 72), Two Handed (Level 81), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 66), Light Armor(+1) (Level 50), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus Roh Dah (Force Balance Push), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), Feim Zii (Fade Spirit), Su (Air), & Laas (Life)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Jagged Crown, The Mirror, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Reanimate Corpse Tome, Staff of Lightning, Deed to Tundra Homestead, Sapphire, Ruby, Dawnbreaker, Traveling Backpack (Supplies), Potion of Minor Magicka, Vampire Armor, Vampire Boots, Movarth's Golden Ash (Unique), Dwarven Sword, Hide Boots Of Sneak, Gold Ruby Ring of Fortify Magicka, Iron Garnet Ring of Fortify Conjuration & Magicka Regen, Elven Dagger, Potion of Healing, Honed Ancient Nord Sword of Sparks, Gold Emerald Circlet, & Scroll of Fire Storm, Ring of Archery,Hide Boots of Stamina, Ancient Nord Sword of Absorbing, Iron Garnet Circlet, Iron Sapphire Circlet, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Glass Boots, Dwarven Sword, & Dwarven Shield
2x Common Soul Gem (Empty), Black Soul Gem (Empty), Elven Sword, Amethysts, Potions of Plentiful Magicka, Scroll of Conjure Familiar, & Scroll of Magelight
3x Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Flawless Sapphires, Gold Necklace, Iron Necklace, Petty Soul Gem (Filled), & Potions of Minor Magicka
4x Spider Eggs, Garnets, & Common Soul Gem (Filled)
5x Lesser Soul Gem (Filled)
7x Vampires Dust
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
12x Black Soul Gem (Filled)
Weight: 95.21 KG / 630 KG
Septims: 82,127