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The exhausting fight with The World Eater had taken every iota of his being, even with the help of the Nordic heroes of a bygone era. As the scaled beast from the annals of history releases its death cry, he collapses into the soft grass of the idyllic valley. As its body begins burning up into a whirling vortex of colour hues of blues, reds, oranges and yellow which reaches a crescendo and shoots up into the ethereal sky, he releases his own dying breath.
He feels his own soul pulled from his being and above. The valley of Sovngarde, where the bloody battle took place, growing infinitely smaller beneath him as he is pulled into the swirling heavens, rapidly approaching the void that is blacker than black in the middle of a revolving cyclone of colours that pattern the sky.
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Seeing without seeing, he finds himself in this eternal void, without being, without form, without physicality.
A voice, more commanding and vibrant that seems to fill every part of the void, booms into existence.
“You have done well, my child. You have fulfilled the prophecy, and returned Alduin to me.”
“Who are you?” he says without saying.
“I have many names, my child. I am known throughout your world; you may know me as Alkosh to the Khajiit, Auriel to the Mer, Akatosh to the Men.”
A serene stillness enters his essence, as the gravity of who he is conversing with is realised.
“Know that you have earned your place in Sovngarde. Rest well, my child.”
“What of Alduin? Is he really dead?”
“In your understanding, yes. But he is, and will never, be truly dead.”
“And what of my soul? I understand part of my soul is part of you.”
“And a part of you it will remain. For you are not one without the other. A duality that cannot be broken, that must not be broken.”
An impulse springs from somewhere deep within him to submit to the darkness, but he resists. An image of her appears, without form.
The voice booms again.
“I sense hesitation.”
A moment passes, as if discerning the reason.
“Ah, I see your heart yearns for her.”
Another moment passes, as if deciding.
“For what you have accomplished…. Go, my child. Return to Nirn. A parting gift, for what you have done. Go, with gratitude. And know your place in Sovngarde is assured.”
The voice disappears, and so does the silence, and so does the void.
A myriad of vibrations pass through him as his being is sent through something, to somewhere.
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The first sensation that he registers is just how cold and tired he is. The next sensation is the icy cold wind that blows through him as his tired form collapses into the snow bank.
Struggling to open his weary eyes, his body struggles to keep up with his mind.
The sky is extremely grey, cloud covering every part of it. The stiff icy wind passing over him is blowing the top layer of snow from various drifts, creating dancing plumes of snow that cascade over and off the rocks.
Looking over, he sees lights in the distance, twinkling through the snowflurries like distant stars. Familiar lights.
A memory enters his mind. Her face, again.
Another memory appears, their last embrace before he left.
Another memory appears, the first time they met.
As more memories flood his empty mind, so do the feelings. Of adventure, of happiness, of merriment, of love.
With the feelings, he summons the will to stand up, and tries to move forward.
One step, two steps, then he stumbles, like a newborn fawn. Collapsing against a cold rock, he takes a deep breath of the icy air that pains his aching lungs, and pushes off the rock.
Stumbling, sliding down the path, he struggles to stay upright. Something within him urges him on, one step after another.
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A path soon appears in front, leading to the lights. After a period of time which he could not be sure of, the path soon leads to a familiar structure, then another, and another. He pushes on, his destination near to hand.
The guards are stunned as he weakly gestures for the familiar gate to be opened. Once opened, he pushes on.
Passing by more familiar structures and places he has passed by a thousand times before, memories flooding back even more. He pushes on.
A familiar two storey structure looms in front of him; the place they call home. The windows, illuminated by the fire within. He pushes on.
Laying a hand on the familiar door, that knowing sensation of seasoned wood barely registering under his cold touch. He pushes on, one more time.
The door stiffly opens, and familiar individual within, sat in a familiar seat in front of a familiar fireplace, looks up at the intrusion. Revealing a face, her face, which elicits a barely audible gasp as he stumbles towards her. A faint “You’re back!!” is barely heard as he collapses to the carpeted floor, warmed by the fire. A soothing touch is imperceptibly felt on his head as her hands move to cradle him. Back in her embrace, he smiles weakly as tears of happiness stream down her face before exhaustion overtakes him, sending him into that dark realm of unconsciousness. He pushes on no more.