"The Path of Pain and Steel"
"Good. I hope you're ready," said Einar in a deep, firm voice, his eyes settling on Neville and Harry, who stood before him holding wooden swords.
In a corner of the training field, Hermione and the twins watched with sharp eyes. Though Fred and George looked slightly distracted, their hands never stopped working " preparing more crystal balls to sell during the final task of the Tournament. They had reinvested all the money they earned in the previous round into new materials, all while keeping an eye on the new training Harry and Neville were about to endure. That was just how the Weasley twins were: cunning, ambitious… and always alert to the show.
"Yes..." Harry and Neville replied, a little nervous.
Although Harry had already trained under Einar's guidance, most of that time had been spent dodging the Nordic's summoned creatures. And even then, he always ended up exhausted.
"But, professor… what about the trainings with Cedric?" Harry asked quickly.
"Of course they'll continue," Einar said with a smile that hid storms. "That's why I told you to get ready… to suffer."
Harry swallowed hard and began to wonder if he was still in time to back out.
"Well then..." Einar unsheathed his own wooden sword, which shimmered faintly under the light thanks to the enchantments cast on it. "I think these enchantments will be enough to keep you from dying."
The sword wasn't meant to enhance its wielder " quite the opposite. It magically weakened Einar's power, placing him on equal physical footing with his students.
"Wait… professor? Are we fighting you?" Harry asked, his voice shaking, while Neville was too shocked to speak.
"Of course. The best way to improve… is by fighting with your life on the line," Einar replied with a deadly calm. His gaze was so cold and firm that both boys felt their souls freeze.
"Brace yourselves!"
Without further warning, he lunged at them. The wooden sword moved like lightning, aiming straight for Harry's neck. On instinct alone, Harry ducked just in time.
But his dodge placed Neville in the path of the strike. The boy raised his sword to block the attack"
CLANK!
The impact thundered through the field. Neville's arm went numb, as if he'd been struck with an iron hammer.
"Don't lose focus!" Einar growled, before sending him flying back several meters with a powerful kick.
Without stopping, he spun and charged at Harry, thrusting directly at his shoulder. The wood didn't cut " but the pain was real. Harry screamed on reflex, thrown backwards and landing beside Neville.
"PROFESSOR!!!" Hermione shouted from the sidelines, clearly alarmed. "They don't even know how to use swords yet!"
"I already said it," Einar responded calmly, never stopping his movement. "A warrior learns in the midst of battle. We all did. Their arms and endurance were forged while carving their own daggers. Their reflexes, during our surprise skirmishes."
His voice dropped lower, rumbling like a war drum:
"There are no pretty moves. Only the experience of receiving… and returning blows."
And he attacked again. Sword raised high. The intent clear: to give them a beating they would never forget.
Of course, as he struck them down, he corrected their mistakes. He was teaching them… through sweat, shouts, and pain.
For two eternal hours, Neville and Harry lived their own personal hell.
When the training finally ended, both lay on the ground, panting, drenched in sweat, and covered in bruises.
Einar, unfazed, healed them with magic and tossed them each a stamina potion.
And while no physical wounds remained… the pain in their muscles " and their souls " would linger for a while.
"So?" Einar asked, voice firm, gaze unwavering. "Do you still want to continue training?"
Neville and Harry exchanged a glance… then, without hesitation, their faces hardened with resolve.
"Yes," they answered in unison.
Einar gave a proud smile. A wild, but sincere one.
"Good. I hope you're ready. It will be painful, it will be hell… but the fruit of this training will make you strong enough to fear nothing " and no one."
With those words, Einar turned and began walking back, while Hermione and the twins helped Harry and Neville to their feet.
Despite the trembling in their legs and the fatigue weighing on them, their eyes burned with renewed determination.
After all… the afternoon training still awaited.
Cedric was waiting.
Because the path to strength… had only just begun.
....
In Skyrim...
The young children of Einar had ventured into one of the oldest and most mysterious ruins in the entire continent: the Shadow Limit.
A vast network of underground tunnels, hidden deep within the world, where massive caverns stretched beyond sight, covered with glowing mushrooms, trees that resembled giant jellyfish, and crystal-clear lakes bathed in an ethereal glow that seemed to emerge from the very heart of Nirn.
However, as was typical for them, it didn't take long before they got separated while exploring the depths.
"How silly… my brothers got lost again," muttered Lucía, the youngest of the group, with a hint of annoyance that vanished instantly, replaced by a calm smile. "Well, I just have to find them."
With that carefree attitude, she began walking in a random direction. If her brothers had heard those words, they probably would have exploded with indignation: after all, Lucía was always the one who disappeared without warning. All it took was for her to see a glowing butterfly to stray from the group without saying a word. That's why they constantly told her to stay close.
But, as was clear… Lucía rarely listened.
She walked with eyes full of wonder, observing the luminous trees and translucent creatures floating in the air, unaware that the shadows had begun to move around her...
A faint snap broke the silence.
Lucía stopped. A moment later, an arrow whistled through the air and grazed the spot where she had just been standing.
The girl turned her head calmly, without losing her smile. Her gaze landed on the hunched figure of a Falmer, hidden among the rocks, its grotesque face scarred and blind eyes seeming to stare straight into her soul.
Around her, others began to emerge from the shadows: deformed creatures, once Snow Elves, now reduced to savage beasts by corruption and darkness.
"That wasn't very nice," said Lucía, frowning as if she'd been scolded for getting dirty.
The Falmer didn't answer. They couldn't. They no longer understood human speech, nor retained their own. Only growls, guttural screeches, and violence.
And violence was what they brought.
Lucía sighed. With a swift movement, she unslung the weapon on her back: a warhammer as large as she was, icy blue and seemingly absorbing the light. It was made of stalhrim, a rare and powerful material from Solstheim, enchanted by Einar himself.
Why did Lucía use it?
"Because it's pretty…" she had once said.
But it wasn't just that. The fact that an eleven-year-old girl could wield such a weapon so naturally was proof of the brutal training their adoptive father had subjected them to, preparing them for the dangerous world of Skyrim.
The Falmer hesitated for a moment. The mere presence of the hammer made them stop, as if remembering fear. But that hesitation didn't last long. Screeching in fury, they charged at her.
Lucía let out a cheerful cry:
"Hap!"
She spun like a whirlwind, and her hammer carved a wide arc that struck the first one bold enough to get close. The impact sent it flying like a ragdoll, crashing into one of the hidden archers.
Without stopping, she used the momentum for another spin. The stalhrim glinted briefly before coming down with a brutal blow on another Falmer, crushing its skull into the ground with a sickening thud.
Dark blood stained the weapon.
"Aw… they dirtied my hammer," she muttered with a sad expression.
The remaining Falmer became enraged. They raised their bows and unleashed a rain of arrows that hissed like serpents.
But Lucía was no longer there.
She moved with astonishing speed, dodging the arrows with short steps, as if dancing with death. She rushed toward them, dragging the hammer, which carved a trail in its wake.
She jumped.
And in the air, she spun as if the whole world froze for a second.
The stalhrim struck a Falmer's head dead on, smashing it against the stone. Without letting gravity catch her, Lucía flipped and landed with a crushing blow, splitting the ground and the final enemy in one swift motion.
The rocks cracked beneath her feet.
And then, silence returned.
Lucía stood still for a few seconds, observing the mess she had made. Her hair swayed with the underground breeze, and the glow of the floating creatures lit her small figure, now covered in dust and splatters.
"That's what happens when you're mean…" she said in an innocent voice. Then she sighed and added, "Now then… time to keep looking for my brothers."
She took a few steps, then stopped. She sat on a nearby rock and, with all the calm in the world, pulled a small cloth from her pouch and began to clean her hammer as if nothing had happened.
After all, it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
And it wouldn't be the last either.
...
After two weeks of intense training, Harry's body was exhausted, but his spirit burned with determination. The third task loomed ahead like an inevitable shadow, and although he felt stronger than ever, he knew that any advantage could mean the difference between victory and death.
It was then"just one day before the challenge"that Einar called him and Neville with a seriousness they had never heard in his voice.
"Come with me. I have something... important for you."
They followed him with furrowed brows, exchanging confused and expectant glances. Einar led them through the Forbidden Forest, to a strangely clear area. There were no trees, no signs of life. The ground looked as though it had been purged by some ancient force. The air was thick, charged with something they couldn't name.
Einar stopped at the center of the clearing. His steps ended in solemn silence. He removed his mask for a moment, revealing a face that looked carved from steel. Then he raised his eyes to the sky and, with a voice that thundered across the vast forest, shouted:
"OD AH VIING
DUR NEH VIIR!"
The echo of his words spread like an invisible wave, making the earth itself tremble. Harry felt every hair on his body stand on end. He recognized one of those names: DUR NEH VIIR. A dragon. A real one. The one who had helped him. But the other name... he had no idea.
"What's happening...?" Neville whispered nervously.
Then it happened.
A violet flame ignited before them, and with it, the life around them began to die. Flowers withered. Moss turned black. From that flame emerged a winged skeleton, which slowly began to take shape. Rotting flesh covered it like a cursed veil, until a roar erupted from its throat. A moment later, another roar"louder, more alive"shook the air. A red dragon descended from the sky like a flaming comet.
Neville took a step back, mouth agape. Harry couldn't look away from them. They were enormous. Majestic. Ancient. The weight of time and history fell on their shoulders just by gazing at them.
"Why have you summoned us, Qahnaarin?" growled the undead dragon, its voice like a wail from beyond the grave.
"I am here, Dovahkiin," said the red dragon, Odahviing, acknowledging his old comrade with respect. His eyes met Durnehviir's, but no more words were exchanged. They simply waited.
Einar didn't waste time. From his bag, he drew two objects wrapped in thick leather cloth. When he revealed them, both dragons snorted in unison. Eggs. Dragon eggs.
"Impossible..." murmured Odahviing, with a touch of nostalgia and surprise. "Centuries without the birth of even one..."
"But their souls are not like ours," Durnehviir warned in a somber tone. "They're similar, yes. But without a powerful essence, they're nothing more than common beasts."
"They're dragons from this world," Einar explained. "Here, they're treated like livestock. Raised in captivity."
The word struck like a blasphemy.
"L-Livestock!?" roared Odahviing, outraged. "The creatures of Akatosh, reduced to mere animals!?"
"A mockery," Durnehviir murmured sadly.
"What do you plan to do with them, Qahnaarin?"
Einar lifted his gaze, his voice as firm as a mountain.
"I will give them to my students. As companions. As allies."
The dragons fell silent. Only the crackling of fire dancing on the edge of the clearing could be heard.
"Mmmh... I understand," said Durnehviir at last.
"These humans?" Odahviing inquired with a trace of disdain, glancing at Harry and Neville as if they were ants.
"Yes. They are the first I have accepted as disciples in this world. And I want them protected. I want them to have something that reminds them of the power that can be forged when life and honor are upheld."
Odahviing narrowed his eyes. But then, with a resigned snort, he nodded.
"If they are yours... I will help."
Without another word, Durnehviir opened his jaws and released a violet flame. As it touched one of the eggs, it turned a deep black with violet streaks, as if the night itself had embraced it.
"Give this one to Harry Potter," he said solemnly. "It is linked to your soul, boy. Take good care of it. It will grow with you."
Slowly, his form began to fade into a dark mist.
Odahviing, meanwhile, turned to Neville. He observed him with piercing intensity, as if reading his heart.
"Only because the Dovahkiin asks... I will accept you," he finally growled. Then he released a torrent of red fire over the second egg, which turned a bright crimson hue. "Take care of it. Or I will come for you."
With a final roar, he took off, vanishing into the clouds.
Einar turned to his students, handing them the eggs with a calm smile.
"Here you go."
Harry held the black egg with reverence. Neville stared at his with awe, as if he were holding a heartbeat in his hands.
"P-Professor... raising dragons is illegal. And they grow really fast..."
Einar cut him off with an enigmatic smile.
"These are different. They won't grow like the common ones. They're stronger. And if anyone tries to take them from you... you tell me."
Just then, a crack broke the silence. The shells began to fracture.
Harry and Neville froze, mouths open.
"Let's go back to Hagrid's cabin," Einar said immediately. "It's better they meet their companions in a safe place."
They both ran after him, hearts pounding. Because that day... their destinies had just changed forever.