Author's Note:
Chapter fifty already :O It flew by so fast.
I hope you're all still enjoying the story :) I'm definitely still excited to share it all with you and I'm grateful for your continuous readership and all the comments and kudos and votes <3
A little progress update, since we're already here :) I have finished chapter 100 recently and continue to write on. There's a lot more to look forward to. Lots of (hopefully) exciting plotlines and story developments. I hope you'll enjoy the journey.
But for now, enjoy the culmination of the Winterhold arc, spanning over the next few chapters. I hope you'll like how it turned out <3
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If they had ever wondered whether a dragon could become undead, now they had their answer.
Among the regular skeletons, there was one of a dragon. The entrance hall was massive – it had to be, to house this beast. Its giant frame rattled menacingly with every movement and it fastened its... eye sockets on them instantly when they entered the large doors.
"What in the Void is that?!" Darren exclaimed and he took a step back towards the doors.
The Psijic monk spoke of evil being held inside Labyrinthian. Was this what he meant?
The dragon didn't leave them much time to ponder. It started to move on its skeletal claws towards them menacingly and the skeletons around took notice as well. All of them started to weave their hands instantly – they were obviously mages.
Several icy spikes flew through the air straight towards their closest target – Bishop. He quickly rolled out of the way from them before they could reach him while Aeyrin charged forward towards the dragon. Darren only pressed himself against the door, likely hoping that none of their enemies would take notice of him.
"YOL TOOR!"
Aeyrin's Shout echoed throughout the chamber before the dragon even managed to attack. She wasn't sure what to expect from it, whether it was actually alive, whether it had a soul and whether it could Shout, but there was one thing that she knew. Any bones would crack under her fire.
The dragon roared in pain while two of the skeletons ended up dead on the ground with cracked skulls and rib-bones from the force of Bishop's arrows. He hated fighting skeletons – his arrows just flew through the bones harmlessly so often when those things moved. That was one enemy where Aeyrin's mace was invaluable. Too bad she was busy with the dragon.
She started to smash her mace into whatever giant bone she could find. The fiery enchantment only helped her along while the dragon merely thrashed and attempted to snap its jaw at her or to swat her with its limbs.
It didn't Shout at all. Perhaps it couldn't. That was a good sign, wasn't it?
Bishop was steadily working on getting rid of the skeletons, but it was slow going. All of them were shooting their ice spells at him and, half of the time, he had to constantly dodge them before he could attempt to shoot again.
The dragon swatted its claw at Aeyrin, just as she almost managed to hit it again. It was fast for a corpse. She evaded the claw, but when she did, the beast quickly reacted by smacking its other claw against her with a lot of force, sending her flying across the chamber with her armor clattering loudly.
The monster turned its head to her and then she saw it – the translucent swirl forming at the back of its throat.
Dammit, she really thought that it couldn't Shout!
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Northbound Pilgrimage II
FanfictionAeyrin and Bishop continue their journeys through Skyrim, trying to deal with the looming threats in their path. The Province is still ravaged by the dragons, as well as the war, and both new and old enemies still hound their steps. Their adventures...
