"STRUN! BAH! QO!"
The already stormy skies of the Stormlands became even more violent, and lightning split the sky. Rain fell harder, hammering the earth.
The first bolt struck Urrax directly in the back.
The brass dragon roared as lightning crawled over its body. Another bolt followed, then another. The storm hammered the dragon with growing force, each strike drawn toward the metal body like metal to a magnet.
Harald raised both hands and added his own magic to the storm.
Lightning Storm tore from his palms in a continuous beam of raw destruction. The spell struck Urrax in the chest and forced it backward. The soul gem began to flare violently under the assault. Harald gritted his teeth and pushed more magicka into the spell, then dragged more lightning down from the clouds.
The battlefield was bathed in light as bolts struck the ground around them, blasting holes in the earth and turning rain into steam. Harald pulled the storm's fury into the brass dragon again and again. Each impact forced Urrax lower, its claws tearing through the field as it fought to keep its footing.
A bolt struck the weakened wing Harald had damaged earlier.
The wing shattered.
A large section broke free from Urrax's body and crashed into the mud. The dragon stumbled, one side of its body dipping as it tried to compensate.
Harald laughed. It came from exhaustion, rage, pain, and the first real sight of the beast being permanently injured. He kept the Lightning Storm focused on Urrax's chest, driving the spell harder while the sky continued to strike from above.
"Come on!" Harald shouted over the thunder.
Lightning poured into the brass dragon until its body glowed white in places. Its movements slowed. The metal along its shoulders warped and split.
Harald felt his strength falter. His magicka reserves were low. Too low. It was not like Tamriel here. His reserves did not replenish so quickly. The only reason he had been able to use the spell this long was because of the large amount of magicka he could store in his body, but now it was being depleted.
He stopped before the spell collapsed on its own.
The battlefield went dark for a breath, lit only by the storm above. Urrax stood before him, heavily damaged. Lightning still crawled over its body, flickering across its frame. One wing had been broken away, leaving it unable to fly. The soul gem had a visible crack running across it, pale light leaking through in thin strands.
But it was still standing.
Its red eyes fixed on Harald.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The shout hit before Harald could move.
He tried to dodge, but his body answered too slowly. The force took him in the chest and hurled him across the field. He struck the ground, bounced once, and slid through the mud before coming to a stop near a line of shattered stones.
For a few moments, he could not breathe.
The sky above remained dark and violent because of Storm Call. Lightning moved through the clouds, and the rain fell so hard it nearly blinded him.
Harald rolled onto his side and forced air into his lungs.
In the distance, through the curtains of rain, he saw a massive castle.
Storm's End.
The ancient fortress stood against the storm as it had for thousands of years. Somewhere near there, Argella and the Legion should be preparing to give battle to Ormund, Lyonel, and Baldric.
He pushed himself to his feet as Urrax advanced.
The brass dragon roared, its claws sinking into the wet ground.
Harald tightened his grip on the axe.
Then a thought struck him.
Damn it, he thought. Why didn't I think of this before?
Urrax charged.
Harald waited until the last moment.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
He shot sideways in a blur, crossing the field and putting distance between them. Urrax's jaws snapped shut on empty air, and its claws gouged the earth where he had stood.
"GOL! HAH! DOV!"
The words slammed into the dragon.
For the first time since the fight began, Urrax froze completely.
The soul gem in its chest pulsed violently. Harald pushed his will into the mechanical monster.
Obey.
Stop.
Harald felt the surface of Urrax's mind, or what passed for one. It was a knot of stolen souls, Dwemer logic, and Hermaeus Mora's design, all wrapped together as one.
For a moment, it yielded, and Harald thought he had won.
Then Urrax roared, suddenly breaking free from its frozen state as it pushed back.
Harald's breath caught. The resistance was immense.
It was as if Urrax had announced to reality itself what it was. Its purpose was to kill Dov. It was the ultimate anti-Dov, and therefore it could never submit to one.
Harald's vision blurred. Pain lanced through his skull. He felt his will pushed back inch by inch, then violently expelled.
Urrax was free.
It began to glow dark violet as the soul gem shone brighter and brighter. Harald watched as the grass around them began to die. Green blades turned grey, then black. Insects dropped from the air and vanished into the mud. Fleeing birds fell from the sky mid-flight.
The light began to pulse toward Harald, and he felt the pull immediately.
His Dragon Aspect flickered. The spectral scales over his armor dimmed as the light hooked into the edges of his soul.
"FEIM ZII GRON!"
Harald became ethereal. His body turned pale and ghostly, untouchable by ordinary force.
But the light still reacted to him, only with lesser power.
Become Ethereal kept him alive.
It did not make him safe.
The shout only lasted for a few more seconds. As it ended, Harald stumbled to the ground on one knee, breathing hard.
Urrax's chest opened wider.
The soul gem pulsed.
"WULD NAH KEST!"
Urrax vanished and appeared near him. It came for him with its jaws open.
Harald barely moved in time. He threw himself aside, using a burst of telekinesis to change direction as the brass teeth closed where his upper body had been.
The soul gem was affecting him badly. Harald felt his soul being pulled from him.
The sensation was worse than any pain Harald had felt before. It felt as if he were being torn apart again and again.
Urrax advanced toward him, the soul gem now fully exposed as it pulled Harald's soul into it.
Harald gritted his teeth.
"TIID... KLO... UL!"
Time slowed.
Rain hung in the air in long silver lines. Lightning crawled across the sky like bright veins. Urrax's movements dragged, but not enough. Its red eyes followed him through the slowed world.
Harald forced himself to move.
"WULD!"
His body shot sideways.
The Slow Time effect ended almost immediately as Urrax forced its way into the same altered state.
Harald landed hard in the mud and threw his axe at the monster.
The weapon spun toward the exposed soul gem.
Urrax turned its head.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The shout hit the axe mid-flight and blasted it away into the rain. The weapon vanished into the darkness, spinning end over end.
Harald raised his hand to call it back.
Urrax did not give him time.
The brass dragon's body began to glow violet once more, and Harald felt something hold him in place.
Urrax raised its head.
The soul gem in its chest opened.
Harald screamed.
"ARGHHHHHHHHHH!"
Golden light streamed from his chest, his mouth, and his eyes. It did not leave him as mist or flame. It took shape as it was dragged out, forming the outline of a great golden dragon, vast and furious, half inside his body and half pulled toward Urrax's glowing chest.
The pain was too much, and his consciousness was slipping away.
His armor began to break away. His carefully crafted ebony armor, which he had made for the purpose of defeating Alduin, was now completely stripped away.
Harald tried to move, but his body would not answer.
He tried to shout, but he could not.
His axe.
He reached for it with what little strength he had left, calling it back. The weapon stirred somewhere behind him. It moved toward him slowly.
Urrax stepped closer, increasing the power of the gem as Harald felt his soul being removed faster.
His vision blurred.
No.
He forced his hand to rise.
No.
He would not die today.
Urrax increased its power once more, and Harald felt all his strength leave him.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
Urrax was struck by fire.
A massive torrent of dragonfire slammed into Urrax's side and drove the brass dragon away from Harald. The connection broke. The golden dragon soul snapped back into Harald's body as he fell to the ground.
He hit the mud hard, gasping, his whole body shaking. For several breaths, he could do nothing but clutch at his chest and drag air into his lungs.
He heard the brass dragon roar in fury.
Harald forced himself to look up.
A red dragon descended from the storm. It came through rain and lightning with wings spread wide, its scales dark red and wet with rain. It was not shaped like the dragons of Tamriel. It had four legs and broader wings, closer to the ancient dragons of this world that Harald had seen in weirwood memories. Yet the way it moved, and the fact that it had just used a shout, meant it had to be a dragon from Tamriel.
The red dragon crashed into Urrax with enough force to throw both of them across the field.
Urrax tried to recover, but the red dragon was already on it. He seized the brass dragon by the head, claws digging into golden metal, and slammed it into the ground. Urrax's jaws snapped at him, but the red dragon drove one foreclaw down on its neck and struck its remaining wing with the other.
Then he shouted.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The force blasted Urrax into the mud.
Before the brass dragon could rise, the red dragon shouted once more.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The second shout hit harder, carving a trench through the field as it pushed Urrax back.
A third followed.
"FUS RO DAH!"
Urrax was thrown far across the battlefield, skidding through broken earth and shattered stone. Its remaining wing tore loose under the force and spun away into the rain. The brass dragon crashed near the base of a hill and lay still for several seconds.
The red dragon raised his head and roared.
The sound rolled across the land, deep and proud, a true dragon's challenge. Lightning flashed behind him, outlining his four-limbed body against the sky.
Then he turned toward Harald.
"Nahlot sahrot, my Thuri," the dragon said, his voice carrying the power of the Dovah. "Odahviing is here."
Harald stared at him.
Then, despite the pain, despite the blood in his mouth and his burned body, he laughed.
"How?" Harald asked.
Odahviing lowered his head, his golden eyes fixed on him.
"You called, Dovahkiin. I came. There is no realm, no sky, no edge of existence where I would not answer you."
Harald pushed himself to his feet. His knees nearly failed, but he forced them to hold. The axe finally reached him, and he caught it as it flew into his hand.
"You have no idea how good it is to see you, my friend," Harald said.
Odahviing gave a low rumble that might have been amusement.
Harald looked him over, still breathing hard.
"You look different."
"My glorious form was lost in the crossing," Odahviing said.
Across the field, Urrax moved.
The brass dragon rose slowly, damaged but not destroyed. Its wings were gone now, torn from its body.
It roared.
Odahviing turned toward it.
Harald stepped beside him and tightened his grip on the axe.
"My friend, we can catch up later, but first..."
"Let us show this false dragon," he said, "what true dragons are capable of."
Harald and Odahviing charged.
Urrax charged to meet them.
Odahviing roared at it.
"Zu'u fen krii hi, Dwemer-spawn! You wear the shape of dov, but you are no dragon. It is time you died."
Harald and Odahviing struck first.
"YOL TOOR SHUL!"
Their voices joined.
The two streams merged into a single wall of fire and slammed into Urrax head-on.
The brass dragon tried to answer.
"FO KRAH DIIN!"
A frost shout burst from its jaws as it met the fire. For a moment, steam swallowed the field.
Then the fire overpowered it.
The frost broke apart and vanished. The flames drove into Urrax's chest and neck, forcing the brass dragon back step by step. Its claws dug deep trenches in the mud as it fought to hold position, but Odahviing was already upon it.
The red dov hit Urrax from the side.
The impact shook the field. Odahviing's foreclaws closed around Urrax's neck and shoulder, and he drove the brass dragon into the ground with brutal force. Urrax twisted, snapping at him with metal jaws, but Odahviing used his greater weight and new forelimbs well. He shoved one claw under Urrax's head, forced it sideways, and hammered the dragon's skull into the mud.
Harald ran toward them, axe in hand.
"The soul gem!" he shouted. "Odahviing, I need the chest open!"
Odahviing's golden eyes flicked toward him.
"Geh, my Thuri."
Urrax tried to rise. The soul gem flared, and a shout formed in its throat, but Odahviing slammed his head down and roared.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The force pinned Urrax to the ground and blasted mud and stone outward in a circle. Urrax's body buckled under the pressure. Its claws scraped trenches through the field as it tried to push up.
The brass dragon answered with its own shout.
"FUS RO DAH!"
The stolen force struck Odahviing in the chest and shoved him back several feet, but Urrax did not recover before Harald shouted.
"FUS RO DAH!"
His shout hit Urrax from the other side.
Odahviing lunged back in, seized Urrax by the throat once more with one foreclaw, and drove the other into the exposed plates around its chest.
Metal shrieked. Urrax thrashed, but Odahviing held it. His hind legs braced deep in the mud, and his wings spread wide for balance. He tore the brass plates open, one after another, until the soul gem stood fully exposed in the center of Urrax's chest.
The gem pulsed violently.
Harald ran toward it, axe in hand, and jumped onto its exposed chest.
His skin burned from the heat of the soul gem, but Harald did not falter.
"RII VAAZ ZOL!"
Soul Tear struck the gem.
The crystal cracked wider.
The world itself seemed to shiver. For a moment, the rain became snow. Then the snow vanished into summer heat. Harald saw cracks of light in the sky itself.
"RII VAAZ ZOL!"
Another crack split the gem.
Urrax screamed. Odahviing tightened his grip and held it down as the brass dragon bucked beneath them.
"RII VAAZ ZOL!"
Faces appeared in the light. Men. Women. Soldiers. Prisoners. Lords. Peasants. All of them trapped, all of them reaching for the sound of his Voice.
The sky flashed.
For a moment, Harald saw the land around him covered in snow, then soaked under spring rain, then burning beneath a summer sun. Time and season flickered around them.
The power of two pieces of Akatosh and a being made to oppose them was focused on one point of reality, and that reality was breaking apart.
"RII VAAZ ZOL!"
The fourth shout tore a deep fracture through the gem from top to bottom.
Urrax's body began to come apart. It lashed out, striking the ground hard enough to nearly throw Harald off his feet. Odahviing roared and slammed it down again.
Harald's throat felt torn.
His lungs burned.
The soul gem pulsed one last time, trying to pull from him again.
He leaned closer.
"RII VAAZ ZOL!"
The final Soul Tear struck.
The crystal split open.
Harald heard the souls inside scream out in joy.
He lifted the axe with both hands.
For one moment, everything slowed.
He brought the axe down.
The blade struck the soul gem.
A thunderous explosion tore outward from Urrax's chest, swallowing Harald, Odahviing, and the brass dragon, flooding the world in blinding light.
.
.
.
Edmyn Tully woke with the taste of metal in his mouth.
For several seconds, he did not know where he was. Canvas shifted above him. A brazier burned low near the entrance of the tent. Rain tapped softly against the stretched cloth, though he could not remember when it had started.
He lay still, breathing hard.
His chest ached. His head hurt worse. When he raised a hand to his mouth, his fingers came away with a smear of blood.
What happened?
The battle.
The memory returned slowly at first, then all at once.
The Valemen had come down from Widow's Pass at dawn, driven from their camp by the quakes and falling stone. Artys had tried to form his knights on the lower ground, but Edmyn had not given him time. The staff wielders had opened the battle before the Vale lines could properly settle.
Fire had torn through the first ranks.
Lightning had broken the cavalry charge.
Frost had sealed men inside their armor and shattered horses beneath them.
The enchanted staves had worked exactly as their king had promised. Terribly well. Too well, perhaps. Edmyn remembered standing behind the center line as men of the Vale screamed and burned. He remembered ordering his men forward. He remembered Damon Darry leading the right flank. Hother Blackwood laughing like a madman as the Arryn banners fell.
They had won with such low losses that it had basically been a one-sided massacre.
Artys had fled. Or died. Edmyn could not remember which.
Edmyn sat up too quickly and nearly vomited.
Outside, men were shouting.
Edmyn pushed through the tent flap and stepped into chaos.
The camp was awake. Men stumbled between tents, some half-dressed, some armed, some staring at one another as if seeing ghosts.
Edmyn looked around and frowned.
This was their camp.
But it was wrong.
They had camped just outside the town, but this looked like they were near the Trident.
The ground looked familiar, yet not as it should have. The air smelled of river mud, wet grass, and smoke. He could see the Saltpans in the distance, or what should have been the Saltpans, but beyond the camp he also saw the broad shape of the Trident's waters glimmering beneath the grey morning light.
That made no sense.
They had not been near Widow's Ford.
"Edmyn."
He turned.
Hother Blackwood stood a dozen paces away, staring at him as if he were the Stranger himself. His face had gone pale beneath his long beard. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
Edmyn frowned. "Hother? What is going on?"
Hother did not answer immediately. His eyes moved over Edmyn's face, then his body.
"You died," Hother said.
Edmyn stared at him. "What?"
"You died." Hother's voice cracked slightly. "I saw it. How are you standing there? Am I dead as well?"
Edmyn walked toward him. "What the fuck are you saying? Hother, what the fuck happened?"
"I have died. Yes, that must be," Hother whispered.
Before Edmyn could answer, Lord Damon Darry pushed through a group of soldiers and came toward them.
"How are we here?" Damon demanded. "We were camped near the town after the battle."
Edmyn turned sharply. "We won."
Damon looked at him. "Of course we won."
Hother made a harsh sound. "No, we did not."
Both men looked at him.
Hother shook his head slowly, his eyes unfocused now. "I think this is a dream. It has to be."
"Hother," Edmyn said carefully. "Tell me what you remember."
Hother swallowed. "We were routed. The Valemen came down as expected, but Artys had another army hidden west of us. Royce men. Corbray men. I do not know how they got there, but they hit our flank after the fighting began. The staves failed. Some would not fire. Others exploded in our own lines."
"That did not happen," Damon said.
"I saw it happen," Hother snapped. "I saw Darry's men break. I saw Frey fall. I saw Vance cut down. I saw you die, Edmyn. I saw Corbray take your head clean off your shoulders."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Damon screamed. "We won, damn it. By the Covenant, we won. We beat both forces. We burned them."
Around them, the same argument was spreading.
A Frey knight shoved a Vance man back, shouting that he had seen him dead beneath a horse. Lord Piper was on his knees near a fire, shaking as two of his men tried to calm him. A Mallister captain kept repeating that the sea had swallowed the camp. Nearby, one of the staff wielders screamed when another soldier touched his shoulder, shouting that the man had burned alive during the battle.
Men looked at each other with growing horror.
Some wept.
Some prayed to their king and the Covenant.
Edmyn saw Lord Frey himself emerge from the chaos, alive and furious, only for three men to recoil from him as if he were a corpse. A young Blackwood archer pointed at Damon Darry and swore that he had watched Lord Darry die under Vale lances. Damon answered by threatening to cut the boy's tongue out if he said it again.
The chaos spread faster than any order could contain.
Edmyn stood in the middle of it, tasting blood in his mouth once more, trying to make sense of two impossible truths.
They had won.
They had lost.
Men remembered both.
What the fuck is going on?
.
.