The wolf and the lioness - The price of confidence. (Patreon)

Serana Volkihar, The Throat of the World – Skyrim.

The entire mountain trembled with fury at the clash of colossi, both her Jon and Alduin spewing fire at one another.

The flames of both collided with titanic force at the summit of the mountain, shaking the ground beneath Serana’s feet, the impressive sight of Jon, clad in his draconic form.

Flames burst from Jon’s mouth with ferocity as the Dragon Lord walked slowly toward the cornered dragon.

At her side, her mother watched with evident wariness and appreciation at the image of Jon fighting.

“He is a powerful warrior and a great sorcerer, my daughter, I approve of him for you,” said Valerica with determination, causing the vampire to look at her in surprise, and although it was impossible for her to blush, Serana began to stutter while denying her mother’s words.

Valerica looked at her daughter as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh for God’s sake, dear, it is more than obvious that you are completely mad about him, do not worry, he is a strong warrior,” said Valerica.

Serana frowned and was about to respond, but after a few moments she thought better of it and focused her worried gaze back on the fight.

Alduin had recovered and responded with a Thu’um of his own, powerful and terrifying, Serana saw how after the mighty shout, the sky filled with dreadful clouds and fireballs began to rain all over the place.

“Oh shit,” Serana whispered, as she and her mother began firing at the fireballs falling from the sky.

Although it did not seem that the massive fireballs falling from the sky truly bothered Jon, who remained completely focused on his…discussion.

That was the most curious thing for Serana, it was not a fight, at least not a conventional one.

Both enemies sought the defeat of the other, but neither Jon nor Alduin seemed to have the need for physical attacks.

The fight was carried out solely through the Voice, as if it were a conversation.

Of course, a conversation between two beings capable of bending reality and destroying entire cities with a mere whisper of their words.

But a conversation at the end of the day.

Serana, frowning, focused on the other dragon, who merely observed the interaction between Jon and Alduin in complete silence.

“Do you not intend to intervene?” the vampire asked, furious at the dragon’s apparent refusal.

Paarthurnax simply looked at Serana in total silence before responding.

“No, I cannot intervene, a challenge between two Dovah is sacred, this is a battle that the Dovahkiin must face alone.”

The solemnity in the dragon’s voice made the vampire shudder, only to focus her attention back on Jon, who continued fighting the imposing beast.

“FUS RO DAH!” Jon shouted, with such power that part of the mountain shattered from his Voice, sending Alduin’s body toward the slope with a thunderous crash.

However, the imposing beast did not fall behind, looking at Jon with hatred as he responded.

“SU GRAH DUN!”

The skies thundered and an aura of wind surrounded Alduin, who, with extreme agility, launched himself toward Jon, who could not react in time.

“JON!” the vampire shouted, watching as the World-Eater’s tail wrapped around Jon’s body, only to slam him again and again against the mountain ground.

And as if that were not bad enough…

The blue aura around Alduin’s body had vanished, which meant Dragonrend had lost its effect.

And Alduin knew it.

Without wasting a single moment, the black beast rose into the air, flying at full speed while tightening Jon’s body with the muscles of his tail, both disappearing into the dark night.

And Serana could only watch and hear with helplessness how even in the air, the Thu’um of both continued to lash Mundus.

Flashes of flames, frost and lightning, powerful winds and magic so esoteric and arcane, completely unknown to Serana, were all she saw during the most anguishing minutes of her life.

At least, until she heard once more that terrifying Thu’um from Jon’s lips.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!”

A blue glow was the only warning Serana had before the imposing body of Alduin began to fall once more toward the damned mountain.

And behind the terrifying beast was her Jon, who also fell violently toward the mountain, at too great a speed to do anything.

Terrified, Serana looked at Paarthurnax and shouted.

“Do not just stand there! Save him! You can fly!!”

Paarthurnax, for his part, simply looked at her and responded calmly.

“Have more faith in your mate’s capabilities, young one, the Dovahkiin does not need me, I assure you,” said the immense dragon with complete calm.

Serana simply looked at him in disbelief for a moment, and was preparing to unleash a torrent of lightning at the impertinent being, when she heard Jon’s voice.

“FEIM.”

The vampire watched in surprise as Jon’s body became completely ethereal for a few moments, landing safely on the mountain.

However, Serana could not help but notice something strange about Jon, something that had begun since he had put on that magical draconic armor.

Jon did not attack in a regular manner, generally the Winter Lord used precise and calculated movements, more like a lethal dance than a fight.

But now, Jon seemed to attack out of pure fury and instinct, as if part of his reasoning were clouded.

“He seems to be out of control,” the vampire whispered cautiously, causing Paarthurnax to nod at her side.

“The Thu’um he used, I recognize it from thousands of years ago, created by a dragon priest fallen into disgrace, used to enhance the wielder’s abilities beyond what is physically possible, however, it is not a technique without risks, instincts become stronger and without proper training, reason becomes clouded,” said the immense being.

“ROOOOOOAAR!” her beloved roared, completely out of himself, while continuing the constant assault against the beast, who did what it could, unsuccessfully, to defend itself, its scaled body was quite wounded, but not defeated.

Suddenly, Jon raised both hands, at the same time that a layer of permafrost began to manifest, however, Serana noticed something quite strange, it was not the traditional magic she was accustomed to, there was no real connection to Oblivion or Aetherium.

And apparently, her mother noticed it as well.

A sensation of extreme cold invaded her, far more terrifying than the cold of Coldharbour during the damned ritual, a cold so intense that not even she, a daughter of Ice, could withstand it.

“What the hell is this magic?” her mother asked cautiously, trembling uncontrollably at feeling the overwhelming sensation, at the same time that around Jon a frozen aura began to manifest.

It was voracious, dangerous and terrifying, like a hungry beast wishing to be released and devastate everything in its path.

And apparently, it was controlled by Jon.

“Oh, this… is unexpected,” said the old dragon, looking at Jon no longer with his previous passivity, but with evident interest, respect and even fear in his ancient gaze.

Serana, unable to contain herself, asked.

“Do you recognize this magic?” the vampire asked.

“I do, dangerous, very ancient and uncontrollable… or well, that is what I believed,” said the dragon.

“They call it… the White Frost.”

Those words, although apparently innocent, made a chill spread down Serana’s spine, as if something inside her recognized the danger just by hearing the name.

“And if it is as dangerous as you say, how is the Winter Lord able to control it?” her mother asked, looking in a calculating way toward where Jon was.

“I do not have an answer to that question,” said Paarthurnax, still focused, watching Jon with calculating eyes.

Without any kind of warning, Jon let out another powerful roar, launching the dangerous magic toward the cornered Alduin, the White Frost advanced slowly, it had no hurry, its prey was defenseless, it was only a matter of time.

And everyone knew it.

Alduin roared, trapped like a skeever, moving his wings desperately, trying to lift himself off the ground without success.

And when the White Frost touched the scales of the imposing beast, Alduin screamed, like never before in his long existence.

It was a shriek of agony and desperation, the cold and silent embrace of death that had come for the World-Eater, Alduin was cornered and defeated, and everyone, including him, knew it.

“It seems, this is over,” said her mother with determination, observing how the White Frost began to climb up Alduin’s legs.

Serana sighed in relief, with the matter of Alduin finished they could focus on her father.

“I must say it Serana, I firmly believe that your man is capable of defeating your father, we have hope,” said Valerica with respect in her voice, making Serana smile radiantly.

However…

Alduin did not think the same way.

The cornered beast roared, the most powerful and furious of his entire existence, channeling desperation, fear and unmatched fury.

Alduin was defeated, but he was not dead, and apparently, he had one last trick under his wing.

With titanic effort, Alduin looked with hatred toward Jon, and unleashed a Thu’um completely unknown to her and her mother.

But not to Paarthurnax.

“NAH BROM LOK!”

At those words, Paarthurnax straightened, evidently furious and began to roar at Alduin, shouting again and again.

“TRAITOR! COWARD! COWARD!!”

Serana watched in absolute shock as a red shockwave was expelled from Alduin’s jaws, striking Jon almost instantly.

The effect was immediate.

Jon, her Jon, stopped completely, at the same time that chains of blood-red color began to manifest around his body, binding him to the ground.

Immediately after, a kind of portal appeared beneath Jon’s feet, while he sank rapidly, roaring with fury and desperation as he tried to free himself.

Faced with the terrifying image, Serana could not help but scream.

“JON!!” while running toward the portal.

The furious Paarthurnax had bitten Alduin’s wing with rage while slamming the body of the World-Eater as if it were an old rag, although that mattered little to Serana, all her attention was focused on reaching Jon before it was too late.

She ran with all her strength, managing to grab Jon’s chained hand, clinging to his gauntlet with all her strength.

“JON!” the terrified vampire shouted, pulling his arm without success.

In the end, Jon’s entire body sank into the portal, leaving Serana clinging to the empty gauntlet of the Winter Lord, leaving her completely in shock.

“No, no, no, NO, NO!!!” she screamed out of her mind, while she began casting detection spells, one after another, each more powerful than the last.

And all with the same result.

Jon was gone, he was not in Skyrim, in Tamriel or even in Mundus.

Her hands trembled, while the vampire remained in denial, clinging with all her being to the gauntlet in her hands.

Very faintly, Serana was able to hear how the effect of Dragonrend ended and a badly wounded Alduin retreated with his tail between his legs, flying with difficulty toward the sky, away from Paarthurnax’s fury.

But that did not matter to her anymore.

“What was that? Where is Jon?” the vampire asked furiously, demanding an answer from Paarthurnax, who looked at her in complete silence.

The immense dragon did not respond for a long time, meditating his answer.

“Your mate is alive, but… the Thu’um that the Craven of my brother used is… dangerous, even among us, a taboo, as your people would say,” said the dragon.

Serana, fearing the worst, asked.

“So… is he…? Is he?” she asked, unable to finish the question, and sighing in relief when she saw the immense dragon shake his head.

“No, the Dovahkiin is not dead, he was only banished, beyond this realm, beyond Mundus, a cowardly act by Alduin that will not go unpunished,” said the dragon.

Serana looked at him in disbelief before asking the truly important question.

“But then… where is my man?” the vampire asked, full of anguish, fury and sorrow.

And no one had the answer.

Neville Longbottom, Chamber of Secrets – Hogwarts.

He was going to die, of that he had no doubt.

There was no way he could defeat such an imposing beast, the basilisk, even blind, was still formidable.

Neville raised his wand, ready to go down fighting, like a Gryffindor.

Like his parents.

His body was tired, beaten and at its limit, his legs felt like jelly and his arm like glass, the basilisk approached slowly, savoring its new prey.

“Expelliarmus! Diffindo!” the young lion shouted, not because he truly believed he would win, but because if he was going to die, he would not do so like a coward.

Both spells struck the magical skin without any effect, but that hardly mattered now.

The jaws loomed over him, the enormous fangs, as long as daggers, were mere inches from his exhausted body, this was the end, the moment when Elizabeth Riddle would finally kill him.

Neville closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow, a part of him, a rather large part, more than eager to reunite with his parents, to run into his mother’s arms and feel the warmth of his father.

Feelings he had never been able to experience in his short life.

However… destiny seemed to have other plans for Neville.

A red glow, magical in nature and extremely powerful, caught the attention of Neville, the basilisk and Lady Voldemort alike.

And when the glow ended, an unknown sorcerer appeared, clad in a blue battle robe and with a kind of magical armor in the shape of a dragon around his body.

And judging by his body language… he was more than furious.

Voldemort wasted no time and, frowning, ordered.

“Finish the intruder, now!!” she commanded with her characteristic arrogance and cruelty.

Neville watched in absolute terror as the enormous serpent moved toward the intruder, its intention more than clear, and Neville simply resigned himself to watch another innocent die for being in the wrong place.

But then…

The intruder focused his attention directly on the basilisk, his posture changed, from disoriented to ready to fight.

And it happened.

“FUS ROH DAH!!”

Neville did not know what he was seeing or what this magic was called, but he watched, stunned and with hope, as from the intruder’s mouth a kind of powerful magic shot forward with the force of a hundred bludgers, with such destructive power that the enormous basilisk was thrown like a rag several meters backward, crashing violently against the statue of Slytherin.

And then, the powerful mage focused his eyes, shining like two suns, directly on Neville.

Maybe… he would have a chance after all.