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   Chapter 20 No.20

An Enchanting Tale By AaronDennis Characters: 12096

Updated: 2018-01-10 12:02

"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 nig

ep 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.

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