“Tell me again, how is this supposed to work,” S’maath asked.
The elves sat beside each other, backs resting against stone. S’maash looked at his brother then shook his head with subtle dismay. He heaved a sigh before reiterating.
“For the final time, S’maath. I will blast the dragon with spells. Once it lands, you must strike its wings to keep it from flying. Should everything turn out well then I will use Hermaeus Mora’s spell upon it.”
“But how will one soul fill two gems,” S’maath probed. S’maash opened his mouth to answer, but his brother had more to ask. “And what if I kill it by mistake, or it flees, or it dies before the spell takes effect? I must tell you, I have little confidence in your so called plan.”
Grinding his teeth, the young elf looked away. “Listen, nothing is certain, here. We will do what we can, and our survival is more important than my quest. Now, if my brother, the warrior, is finished complaining, we shall send this dragon to Oblivion.”
S’maath chuckled as he nodded. They commenced their journey up the beaten, mountain path. Sigrid’s Plunge was not altogether easy to traverse, so it took some doing, and some resting before coming upon the peak. Over an hour had passed since night settled overhead. Skyrim’s gorgeous lights swooned against the void. Upon setting feet atop the peak, S’maash spotted the strangest rock formation.
A dozen yards from the brothers was something akin to spiked stones. With head cocked to the side, S’maash stared at the formation. Both brothers moved slowly across the uneven, snow packed terrain. S’maath grabbed his brother’s wrist with a deft maneuver. The stones moved to reveal two, massive, red eyes. KrifAhrkDir the dragon had smelled their ascent.
“Ah, the Dur forms of the chimer approach. You defeated the weak Jul, who call themselves a Brod of Dovah. Krosis, but you are here for Grah, battle, not worship,” KrifAhrkDir spoke with a terrible voice.
S’maath drew his sword. Locking eyes with the dragon, he felt small, firghtened. It was more terrifying even than his first scuffle as a child. He glanced at his brother, whose eyes and jaw were firm, yet his hands shook.
“They called you KrifAhrkDir, no? Tell me, Dovah, where do dragons go when they perish,” S’maash asked.
As he spoke, he overcharged ebony flesh. Before the Dragon answered, the dunmer summoned a flame atronach.
“You enter my Strunma, kill my worshipers, and question my immortality, my Unt Sos? You are a fool, Dur chimer. Dovah do not die!”
He then yelled and extended massive and scaly wings.
“Truly, brother, you must have lost your mind,” S’maath exclaimed, looking over his shoulder.
One, mighty beat of KrifAhrkDir’s wings sent flurries of snow about. The dragon started to rise from a stone perch. S’maash and the atronach unleashed magickal castigation. Icy spears and fire balls collided with immortal scales, doing little, if any, damage.
The great beast roared into the night as he flew in one, giant circle. He moved so far, so fast, that for seconds at a time, he was beyond the brothers’ sights.
“Come, fight with us, KrifAhrkDir!” S’maath called out.
A rush of adrenaline left the elves edgey. Another, blood curdling growl from KrifAhrkDir signaled his approach. He glided over them with grace and ease, letting loose a mouthful of fiery breath. The snow below their feet melted immediately. Terrible heat stole their breath. Radiance blinded them.
“Where is he” S’maath yelled.
Beating wings approached from the rear. S’maash turned to look and spotted the enormous silhouette against the night sky. As the beast came once more, S’maash launched icy spears.
Rather than overcharging the spell, he threw multiples. Wildly, they flew from his hands. The dragon’s movement was so quick that a rapid magickal attack had a better chance of landing. Most of the magickal shards bounced off scales, but some impacted along with more fire balls from the dancing atronach.
KrifAhrkDir rushed upon them with such speed that a gust of heavy wind forced the elves to stumble. As the dragon raised his head, effectively pulling his entire body to a vertical position, he banked left, and perched upon a precipice. With wide-open jaws, and fully spread wings, KrifAhrkDir expelled more, fiery breath. S’maash hid behind his shield while his brother took a knee to protect his eyes with his blade.
During the ceaseless attack, the atronach was banished to Oblivion. S’maash looked back for a second. He then charged at the dragon. S’maath followed suit. Both their feet splattered pools of water. Upon closing the distance, KrifAhrkDir reached his head out and snapped his jaws at S’maash, who defended by placing the shield inside the dragon’s mouth. As it bit upon the shield, S’maath struck; his blade pierced through the right wing.
Roaring, the monster snatched the shield from S’maash, who inevitably went flying and crashing into his brother. Both elves tumbled through puddles. Quickly, they struggled to right themselves.
“This is all the challenge you provide? Krosis, but you are mere mortals, weak and feeble!” KrifAhrkDir belittled them.
Again, the dragon beat its wings to take flight. S’maash stood with narrowed eyes. He scanned the ground for his shield. It was out of sight, so he decided to summon a bound bow instead, but not before a second atronach.
“Blast, where did he go,” S’maath barked.
A sudden, guttural cry drew their attention. The dragon was just above them and bearing down with an open mouth. His teeth, like spearheads, parted for the brothers.
They dove in opposite directions. KrifAhrkDir, with mouth full of flame, not only breathed his fire, but snapped his teeth over the atronach. It died just as the dragon touched down clawed feet for a landing. A monumental quake rumbled through the mountain. The brothers were crouched on either side of the ancient creature.
S’maath slashed powerfully. The enchanted blade dealt severe damage to the dragon’s right wing. Simultaneously, S’maash fired two, bound arrows into the left wing. Again, the immortal dragon growled in pain.
KrifAhrkDir replied with a swipe of his tail at S’maath while turning his head left to exhale flame upon S’maash. The dunmer reeled from the attack. Spotting opportunity, KrifAhrkDir pounced upon the wizard. He swept him up with a lick of the tongue.
Just before massive teeth brought instant death, S’maash held palms out, casting wall of ice inside the dragon’s mouth. Icicles of magickal pain accosted the beast. The dragon shook his head viciously, causing the elf inside to slide about the teeth. S’maash incurred minimal damage before careening to the ground.
S’maath recovered from the tail swipe, which had floored him. Lightning quick, he grabbed hold of a torn and bloody wing before climbing deftly upon the beast’s shoulders.
“Now, brother! Now!” he called from his precarious position.
Looking up, S’maash saw his brother, the warrior, clad in malachite with sword pointed to the base of the dragon’s skull; he stood poised, like a painting, going for the deathblow. Gritting his teeth, the young elf reached out and touched KrifAhrkDir with dragon soul trap. He glowed dark purple. Seeing the change, S’maath brought his blade down with all his might, but the dragon rolled over.
KrifAhrkDir smashed the dark elf warrior into the side of the cliff, and his blade was swept away. Enraged, S’maash ran over with healing hands.
“What is this aberration? My soul is beyond Tiid, beyond time!” KrifAhrkDir groaned in surprise.
“You’re weak, dragon!” S’maath mocked him.
“Find your blade! I will keep him busy,” S’maash instructed.
KrifAhrkDir stepped backwards to better position his face amongst the large rocks. S’maash ran off to his right, summoning another atronach with one hand and casting wall of ice with the other. The ice spell and dragon’s flame collided in a misty display of wavering magicka. Errant fire balls pelted KrifAhrkDir’s injured wing.
Meanwhile, S’maath saw a glint of moonlight reflect off his blade. After snatching it up, he charged the dragon, ye
t fearing another crushing incident, he opted to duck beneath a wing. There, he firmly planted his feet. With KrifAhrkDir none the wiser, he called out.
“Again, brother!”
S’maash was in no position to reach out and touch the dragon with a spell, though. Trying to reason the best approach while recasting ebony flesh, he clicked his tongue. KrifAhrkDir let out a guttural laugh, stilted and broken. He then lowered his body onto the warrior.
Having considered such an attack, the elf quickly sat and rolled backwards, coming face to face with KrifAhrkDir’s open maw.
“Oh,” S’maath cringed.
He slashed from a crouched position and the beast replied with a swipe of his head. The blade only glossed over the dragon’s scales while the horns knocked the warrior to the ground, his brother spotted an opportunity, ran over—believing the dragon was going to try to eat S’maath—and when the dragon did open its mouth, S’maash hopped over his brother and grabbed hold of the menacing tongue to cast the spell. It worked, but the dragon clenched its jaws. An incomprehensible pain rattled S’maash.
S’maath screamed in horror. With blade in hand, he slashed at KrifAhrkDir’s throat, cutting deep beyond the scales. The dragon’s face bounced off the watery ground, and with a terrible thud. S’maash, a crumpled mess, rolled out. The warrior spun full circle to his right, bringing the glass, great sword along with his body. The blow destroyed KrifAhrkDir’s eye. The dragon tried to step backwards, but S’maath charged, his blade pointed at the beast’s forehead. Behind the power of the rushing elf, the sword sank deep.
“Is this what you want? I’ll kill you!” the elf screamed with tears in his eyes.
KrifAhrkDir threw his head back with a potent roar. Sputtering flames escaped his jaws. S’maath held onto the blade, his feet braced against the dragon’s snout. He drew back the sword with a spray of blood, hopped off, landed with his back to the dragon’s chest then spun around with a forwards thrust, sending the blade into KrifAhrkDir’s heart and up to the decorative hilt. The immortal creature fell backwards. The mountains rumbled from the impact.
S’maath did not even care to check the dragon. He simply ran to his brother.
“You’re not done yet, S’maash.” As he held his brother’s head in his lap, he rummaged through their packs for potions of healing. He emptied one into his brother’s mouth. With a retching gasp, S’maash coughed both blood and potion. He grasped loosely at his brother’s elbow. “Shhh. Not yet. Drink another,” S’maath said, forcing more liquid down his borther’s gullet.
The second potion took. S’maash rolled over and dual casted healing. Seconds later, he was recovered well enough to stand.
“Thank you. I…I don’t know what else to say,” S’maash heaved.
“You had me worried for a second.”
They both looked upon the defeated dragon. After a momentary appreciation for the ancient creature’s prowess, beauty, and defeat, S’maath removed his sword from the scales.
“Did it work,” the warrior asked.
S’maash took the fragments from his pack. “I don’t think–”
Both fragments of Lorkhan’s Heart vibrated in his grip.
“Look!” his brother screamed.
The dragon was breaking down before their eyes. A magickal flame burned and crackled as the powerful soul left the dragon’s mortal form. The dragon soul entered both halves of Lorkhan’s Heart.
“But how can it be,” S’maath asked.
S’maash looked at his brother and smiled. “Rosoleola once told me, some things simply are. There is no explanation, at least not one we can grasp.”
“I suppose. I’ve had enough of this mountain and enough fighting for some time,” S’maath said.
“Aye, to town for a drink, some food, and some rest then.”
Turning away from KrifAhrkDir’s skeleton, as a cool wind caressed their faces, they turned their backs to the dragon and Sigrid’s plunge.