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theworldeater[Death was never something he considered without a bark of laughter to follow the idea, because when one was labeled as a god, an immortal in ever sense of the word, the idea of mortality was not a concept that hit too close to home. His destiny hand long been laid out for him and nothing within the transcripts of time stated that a figure regarded in such fear and maintaining such power would fall prey to the sword. Yet when the final strike came down upon him and that last whisper of breath left his lungs, Alduin had never felt as venerable as he did in that moment when he realized that death was upon him. Suddenly it had become blindingly clear that even though he believed he would long outlast the struggles of mankind, the will of men had become strong enough to defeat his physical form, to knock him back down to earth and out of the skies. For Alduin though, whose stubbornness persisted years, even as he felt his body hit the ground and the blood fall from his wounds he could not consider defeat, he could not accept placing the final touches to an end of life that was supposed to span throughout all time.
He swore to himself when he knew it would all end, that it wouldn't. Alduin promised quietly that he would be brought back to life and there would be no mercy when he returned, there would be no gentle or kind nature, something he never possessed but would now never consider once in his life. He was a god, he was the Nordic God of Destruction, he was beyond those who walked on two legs and those who spoke the horrid guttural language of mortal-kind. Alduin was certain this could not be over because who could kill a god.
When he woke, the gasp that took to his lungs was loud, harsh and brought in as if he feared he would never breath again. He shook and trembled as he found himself suddenly within the grip of the life once more but what was different, what was distinctly off was not that he had awoken within a tomb but the fact that he he felt significantly different, physically. From what his memory allowed, he knew that his body felt significantly smaller, that his senses were thrown off and he was no longer the rather massive, strong creature he was known as.
A god, dead or alive, but Aludin was distinctly human when he found himself awake within the darkness and in a daze of confusion he threw an arm upward to knock aside the pieces that covered him. An arm, not a wing nor a talon but an arm and this--it stirred a fire within his belly.] What--
What is this mockery?
[A grumble sounded--his voice sounded different, it sounded weak compared to the strength he felt in it before but as he stood, as he pushed himself upwards it was suddenly apparent that for a god, he did not know how the mortal form worked and instead of standing proudly on two feet he went tumbling down to the ground, knocking aside pieces of the broken sarcophagus and dust into the air. What was this all--what had he become and why? To him, this truly was hell.]
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