7AN: I don't own Skyrim or its characters. Also, a quick translation can be found at the bottom for all dragon words used.
The world began, and Alduin roared.
He roared because he was joyful; a triumphant cry that shook the stones from their mountain perches and sent the leaves from their branches in flurries. He roared because his Voice was strong and clear, bending the world to his whim. He roared because he was morokei – a being of noble, sculpted form and purpose, cast in glittering, angular scales of jet and flanked by vast wings powerful enough to seize the sky.
The world was new, a perfect amalgam of bleak and verdant lands, shock and wonder, force and nurture. He gazed upon it, soaring on high on his young wings, ravenously devouring the sight of it. He sought everything there was to see in a blaze of excitement. He drank in the lein, and found it to his liking. The world was perfect, and he was perfect. It was his world, and that was right.
He met others in the skies, other beings of scales and wings and glory. They were wondrous, but not quite akin to his magnificence. Their scales shone in tones of earth and sun and sky, but none other could claim his hue of deepest umbrae. They had shorter horns and smaller bodies, and spoke in Voices that did not quite shake the world as his did. They were proud, but they gazed upon his scales and heard the thunder of his Voice and deferred. They were under him but of him nonetheless, and he loved his kith and kin, his zeymah and briinah, as he did the world. They were his as the world was his. And he was dov, and they were dov, and the world was theirs.
The ground crawled with other beings, small things of variety that had no scales or wings as he did. They scampered and scurried at his presence; some could run and some could fly – never as high as a dovah – but none could outstrip him. They feared his presence and would not hear his voice, no matter how forcefully he imposed his will. They bent and broke under his Words, and had no understanding. But the beasts did not challenge him or his world, and their forms served to nourish him and his kind. They settled in the hills and vales, the peaks and crevices, and brought life to the landscape; life in motion and struggles and calls and cries, of living and dying under the eyes of the immortal. Order was set – a world ruled by the perfect dovah, with Alduin at the helm of the dov.
And time trailed on until men came, and the lein trembled with premonition.
He felt the motaad and came to survey them personally. Small, pitiful things they were, with no scales or wings to carry them up to the sky, nor teeth and claws to hold their own against the sunvaar. They carried small, makeshift claws of qethsegol, and wore the skin of other beasts around their vulnerable bodies. But Alduin was willing to welcome them, to show them the perfection of the world. He swooped down and shouted a Word, displaying to them the glory of blazing fire. They scattered and mewled as his beautiful torrent lit the heavens aflame, babbling in Words that had no meaning. Their sil spoke of fear, not rightful awe. With a disdainful snort, he clawed his way back up high, claiming the skies meant only for a dovah.
He deigned that men were mere beasts below dov, and it was so. But men were not content to sit alongside the beasts. They had a will, even if they lacked the Voice to shape it.
And they did not revere the dov.
They would not cow under force as the beasts did, and refused to accept their place in the order of the world. Understanding their weakness, they took from the earth and created implements to compensate for their own deficiencies. They fouled Taazokaan with their villages, razing his nature with their pointless, ephemeral structures. But he was merciful, and tolerated their insolence until they finally lashed out at his kin with their false claws.
And he found that even the immortal could die, under the bite of iron, sent high into the air to pierce glittering scales, and thicker tongues cast deep into the heart of a downed dragon. He found this, and roared.
Man killed in treachery, seeking out the unwary and resting dovah to surround and slaughter with their metal tools. They sought to destroy him, to rip the dovah from the sky and cast their futile flags over his wondrous domain! But they were sahlo and lacked a Voice, and were doomed to fall under the uznahgaar wrath they had been insolent enough to provoke. Fiery onslaught and freezing gales broke their essences in droves, and even still, very few of them accepted the power of the dov. Some of the muz saw the perfection in Alduin's order, and he blessed them for their service with gifts of the dragons. They imposed their own order among their maddened flock, and he dared hope that the world might yet be restored.
And then - incomprehensible! A tahrodiis dovah had turned his back on his kin and given the sacred Voice to these pathetic men; given mortality and imperfection the tools to cast down the kings of the sky!
He met the traitor on his own ground. Monahven, the peak that only dragons could reach, a mountain that scraped the heavens – and the traitor had brought three muz with him there, to sully the sacred grounds!
They fired their thin-sky-claws at him, but the brands of iron could not pierce his midnight scales. They were powerless as he strafed above them, shouting fire and force upon their fragile forms. Their traitor-pet-honorless-dovah rose to do battle with him, and was succinctly sent to the mountaintop as Alduin tore vicious wounds into his wings and outmatched his Voice.
And then the muz shouted the Words.
They were wrong Words; Words that never should have existed, Words of their corrupted existence that defied his perfect comprehension. They tore at his soul and clawed at his mind like tongues of lashing flame and frost, filling him with a pain he had never experienced before. It tore him out of his rightful sky and cast him upon the ground before them – as if a dovah could ever be made to bow before man! Through his agony, he fought against their held-claws and feeble Voices, and they could not break him. He shattered their weapons and brought them to their knees as they had dared to bring him, and clawed down the wretched dovah who had dared defy him.
He breathed in for the final thu'um, to obliterate them with his fire, and there was power – Words beyond even him, Words from outside time itself. Words from the Kel. Man, unable to match his might even at his weakest, had brought forth the power older than the dovah themselves.
He struggled, but there was no longer anything to struggle against. He roared, but he found that he had no Voice to roar with.
He now drifted in an Empty Place – there was no time, and all was shadow, shadow deeper than his onyx scales of memory. For he had no scales here, nor wings, or claws and fangs. All he could do was wait, left to wonder in the darkness if anything was real – for how could anything be real in a gap in existence itself? He waited outside of time as man cast down his dovah and their faithful - as they rose, subjugating the beasts in their place, ravaging his perfect world beyond any hope of repair. As not-time wound in circles, he wondered if he had ever existed at all. Could he have ever been perfection once if he had been brought down into nothingness?
An eternal instant passed. There was light and sky again, and he roared, for he knew that he was.
He was Alduin, the first, the eternal.
He was Alduin, and he would destroy the world.
Translations;
Dovah/Dov – Dragon/Dragonkind
Lein – World
Morokei - Glorious
Zeymah/Briinah – Brother(s)/Sister(s)
Motaad – Shudder
Sunvaar – Beast(s)
Sil – Soul(s)
Qethsegol – Stone
Taazokaan – Tamriel
Uznahgaar – Unbridled
Sahlo - Weak
Tahrodiis – Treacherous
Monahven – Throat of the World
Muz – Men
Thu'um - Shout
Kel – Elder Scroll
