Musings of Dark-Overlord-Fire

“Why have you not answered the call?” The World Eater’s voice rattled as it slithered through the chambers of Blackreach.

Vulthuryol’s eyes opened and he looked up from the cool surface of the building. Long had it been since he heard the voice before and almost thought himself as mad as the Falmer below.

“Drem Yol Luk, Alduin.” He growled.

“Spare me the formalities.” The World Eater snarled in return.

Vulthuryol chuckled darkly. “It has been many ages since I have heard such a commanding voice since the Deep Folk vanished from this world. Such a curious sensation, watching them tinker about with a kel, of all things.”

“Why do you reminisce?” Alduin snarled. “I have returned, and stronger than ever am I. The Era of Man shall bend its knee at this hour towards the dovah once more.

“Krosis, I confess I cannot join.” Vulthuryol sighed. “The Lost Folk, as crafty as they were, were fascinated by my tones. They brought me here, thinking me a useful resource.” His mouth curled upwards in a grin. “They found much of their kin between my teeth.”

“You will not join me?” The World Eater demanded furiously. “Your indolence sickens me. You are not worthy to call yourself dovah. I would tear your throat from your neck.”

Again, Vulthuryol had to laugh. “Even if you were to find your way down here, I doubt very much you would resist the curiosities I have seen here.”

“You have gone mad.” Alduin spat. “Mad God has tainted you, hasn’t he?”

“We have greater resolution than to be affected by fifteen and one tones.” Vulthuryol yawned, casting his sight to the ground, where the mortals walked around mindlessly. “These creatures, these shades of the Snow Folk, they could not truly have their bones unbound and reach the music, could they? I confess myself intrigued by their steps. Perhaps one day they will find their own way.”

But when he listened for the World Eater, he found silence. Vulthuryol half-wondered if he had even heard his voice to begin with.