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Prompt 007: Go
Skies in turmoil

A lone figure trudges warily through the pass below, small from this height. The wind is rising, and the mortal’s tattered robes shift about them, grey-brown, blending into the colours of the rocks. The time is nigh.

It’s a small shock to find himself still clinging to the mountain stone. In his ages-long life Paarthurnax has never hesitated to do what he wants, to follow the urging of his desires. Whether striking down mortal impudence or answering his brothers’ words, he has never faltered before. What can hold a dovah when he is certain of his will?

And the certainty of this is a leaden ache in his heart, its rightness hot in his blood. He has felt it building within. He has chosen the best time and place and mortal to approach, and yet- and yet at the moment of action, he cannot…

Let go now, and he parts ways with his lord forever. He will not turn back from what is right, and there is nothing left in Alduin that would forgive this. That is what stays his voice. The agonising desire to wait, to linger in this last moment where he is still Paarthurnax of old and his brother is still his brother. He bows his head and draws breath. Su’um ahrk morah.

Tiid bo amahtiiv. The moment flows onward, and he is carried with it. Now is the time, it cannot be denied. He looses his grip, lifts his head in a mournful roar to the sky. A last cry of farewell to what he leaves as he dives, gliding downward to meet the stumbling man below.

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