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Wyldfyre

Discussion in 'Skyrim Fan Fiction' started by shadowkitty, Sep 10, 2013.

  1. Brewman

    Brewman Do I look worried?

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    Well written as always. For some reason that scene always reminds me of something out the 80's movie Heavy Metal. One of my faves!
     
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  2. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    Well the last chapter seems like a good place to take a break. Consider that part one over... haha...
    Anyway, I have more writing to do but at the moment I am not feeling well so you'll have to forgive me while I take a much needed break. Don't worry, it hopefully wont be for long. Love you all lots <3
     
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  3. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    Hey guys, sorry no new chapter yet.. I seem to have stalled. Ok so here is my problem... I am writing about Wyldfyre going through Skuldafn and then into Sovngarde to fight Alduin. But I really don't feel like it is all that important to the overall story for me to give a blow by blow account of it. I feel almost like I don't want to write about it. It's weird. Don't get me wrong, I have plenty more chapters coming up with the Companions and such.. it's just this chapter is tedious. I am just about ready to scrap it.

    So what I want to know is, if you guys would like me to continue with a couple of chapters of her fight with Alduin...or... would you not mind so much if I just pick up with her appearing back on top of the Throat of the World, victorious. I feel like the last chapter I did, with her riding off into the blue, was a sort of season finale anyway. And now it's time for season 2. :)

    What do you think?
     
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  4. Irishman

    Irishman Well-Endowed Member

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    First of all, I'm still really enjoying your story and loving the way you are writing Kitty :)

    As for your dilemma, I don't think you need a blow by blow account of the dungeon dive, but I am not sure how you will be able to convey the boss fight with Alduin, without experiencing it. Perhaps you don't need the entire fight, but maybe if you sort of start the story just as Wyldfyre is delivering the killing blow (assuming). I personally would prefer your celebration to be in The Hall of Valor with the other drunk Nords though. :p Of course, Wyldfyre would still need to see Parthy at some stage but I think if Wyldfyre were to have a big celebration in Sovngarde, you are only limited by your imagination...
     
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  5. Brewman

    Brewman Do I look worried?

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    Nothing wrong with that, whatever details you do want to include about the journey can be in the story you tell to the Companions upon return. I'm sure there will be a great banquet in her honor with all the best drunken tales :beermug:
     
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  6. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    Well I know it's been a while but here it is! the latest chapter. I hope you guys like it and I don't disappoint you. Sorry again for the break, but I kind of needed it. <3 you! and enjoy!

    CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE: SOVNGARDE

    The bitter wind whipped Wyldfyre’s hair back from her face and her eyes stung as she and Odahviing flew over the country. Occasionally she looked down to the land below. She saw a winding river, mountains, people tending their crops and wild deer running over the plains. Some places she thought she recognised, but they sped past them too fast for her to be sure. Her internal compass told her they were heading in a south easterly direction.

    “How far is this place?” she shouted into the wind. She was not sure Odahviing would answer her as she clung to his spikes. His scales beneath her felt warm against her skin.

    “What is distance to that of the Dov?” he answered her. His vagueness was maddening to her and she gave up and just let him carry her. To her doom? She was not entirely certain that she was going to come out of this confrontation with Alduin alive. But she had to defeat him. She owed it to those she loved to try her best. She was trying to convince herself that she was being optimistic. She had married Farkas so she believed she had a future to return to, right? Wyldfyre was afraid. More so that she was going to somehow enter Sovngarde, the place of the dead. Even if she did the impossible and defeat Alduin, what then? Would she be able to return to the land of the living?

    The wind was bitingly cold, even with her beast blood and Wyldfyre was glad that she had donned her travellers cloak and soft leather gloves before she had mounted the dragon. Still, the wind ripped through her cloak and chilled her to the bone and soon she was shivering. Odahviing had turned south once he reached a long mountain range and followed along its snow capped peaks, gliding in amongst the rocky formations; jostling her about on his scaly back.

    “Must you do that?” she said through chattering teeth. The dragon chuckled.

    “Not enjoying the thrill of the flight?” he asked her with amusement in his voice. Wyldfyre frowned at him, even though he could not see her.

    “No” she said sullenly. The Dragon chuckled again, but pulled up out of the mountains and flew on a straighter course. Soon though he began to dip down and Wyldfyre peered at the terrain below. It was formidable and she could see the dragon was right in there being no way man could traverse this treacherous region. Soon she could see a large temple and ruins ahead and Odahviing swooped down and alighted outside the compound. He folded his wings and stayed low to the ground.

    “This is as far as I dare go Dovahkiin” he growled to her in a low tone. Wyldfyre slid off his neck and her feet shakily connected with the ground. Her fingers were stiff and sore from holding on to his spikes so hard for so long. She flexed her fingers, walking round to face the dragon.

    “You are afraid to go nearer” she observed.

    “No, not afraid, just...wary. Alduin will not have left this place unguarded, and I do not wish to fight more of my brethren here.”

    “So you are leaving me here?” she said, slightly panic stricken.

    “You have proven yourself worthy in the past Dovahkiin. Why do you doubt yourself now?” he blinked at her, his hot breath warming her body pleasantly.

    “I don’t” she hesitated. She was reluctant to admit to the dragon that she was afraid and did not wish to be left alone. But she knew she was not going to convince him to stay, nor did she really want him to. He would be a very powerful ally to have if she needed him in the future.

    “You can go Odahviing. I thank you for bringing me here. One thing though, should I need you, if I call, would you come to my aid?” The dragon cocked his head and peered at her. His great eyes almost like dark pools of liquid that she could very easily fall into and drown in. She stared into his eyes as he studied her, body and spirit.

    “If you return from Sovngarde victorious, then yes, if I am feeling in the mood, I will answer your call”

    “Thankyou” she said sarcastically.

    “If you return” he said again. She glared at him for a moment before he unfurled his wings and launched himself into the air. “I will look for your return Dovahkiin, or Alduin’s” and he flew off to the east. Wyldfyre watched until he faded from sight then turned her attention to the ruins of Skuldafn. It was a vast complex with a great temple rising up on the left. Something behind the temple lit the clouded sky in a dazzling purple and pink light display. From her position she could see she would have to traverse many levels before she could enter the temple. On the right was a large waterfall that fell into a rounded lake with a tower at the other end. She paid the tower no more attention, her destination being the temple. Wyldfyre walked slowly through a stone archway and over a bridge to the first outer wall of the ruins, readying herself for anything.

    *****​
    “I think she wakes” the voice broke through the fog that was in Wyldfyre’s head. She sensed she was lying down; her body feeling like it had been trampled by mammoths. She blinked her eyes open to find herself looking up into unknown faces.

    “What happened?” she asked the faces “Who are you people?” she made to rise but a firm hand held her in place.

    “Steady Dragonborn, you have had quite a blow to your head” An older male in Greybeards robes said to her. Wyldfyre recognised him to be the robed man in her vision of the past when she read the Elder Scroll on the Throat of the World.

    “I.. I know you” she said unsteadily, then gazed around at the other faces “I know you as well” she said to the blonde tattooed woman in steel plate and the man beside her in ancient Nord armour. “I saw the three of you battling Alduin, on the Throat of the World” The three glanced at each other.

    “And how, may I ask, did you do this?” the old man asked her. Wyldfyre sat up and the others backed off to give her room. She gingerly felt her forehead. A large bump now resided there. “I read an Elder Scroll” she said simply. Again this made the three glance at each other, this time with surprise.

    “You read an Elder Scroll?” the man asked her, leaning slightly forward with interest. Wyldfyre nodded then looked around the room. She found she was not in a mere room but a great golden hall with a towering ceiling and enormous windows lining the walls. The hall was filled with people in various forms of dress; mostly armour but some in noble robes. A long table ran the length of the hall and was full of every sort of food Wyldfyre could imagine, lit by golden beams of sunlight that streamed through the massive windows. Everywhere she looked people sat in groups, deep in conversation, or stood around giant mead kegs, drinking rowdily, laughing loudly. Some were even having a mock sparring fight at the other end; onlookers cheering them on and clapping. Everyone seemed to be happy with not a care in the world.

    “Where am I?” she asked, ignoring the old man’s frown at not being given more information about her reading the scroll. She swung her legs over the side of the table she had been laying on and the younger man rushed to help her down, taking her hand.

    “You are in the Hall of Valor, Dragonborn” the woman answered her. “I am Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, this brute here is my brother, Harkon One-Eye and the old man is Felldir the Old.” Felldir frowned at Gormlaith and she smiled at him. Wyldfyre was taken down into the main dining area of the hall. They passed along the table while the brother and sister pointed out people of great interest. They came to a large group with one man in the middle being the centre of attention. They all held large tankards and laughed uproariously at something the man in ancient nord armour said.

    “That, is Ysgramor and some of his Companions” Felldir said distastefully.

    “The Companions!” Wyldfyre exclaimed and broke from the group, striding over to the rowdy bunch.

    “HO! Gentlemen!” Ysgramor shushed the crowd “A yon vision of beauty does approach” Wyldfyre suddenly grew self conscious as a dozen pairs of eyes bored into her. Ysgramor smiled drunkenly and urged her forward. “Approach lusty Wench! Let the men get a good look at you!” Wyldfyre instantly bristled and in a fiery rage drew her crossbow and fired off a bolt before anyone knew what had happened. Ysgramor’s tankard was ripped from his hands and pinned to the front of the keg behind, skewered by Wyldfyre’s bolt. There was a moment of deadly silence only filled by gasps of disbelief.

    Wyldfyre felt her three guides form up behind her and the tension mounted. Ysgramor was left holding his empty hand up awkwardly in the air and he turned and peered at his now holey tankard, the mead running out freely from it. He turned back to Wyldfyre who shrugged and glared at him.

    “I am no-one’s lusty wench” she said for all to hear. It was a moment that could have tipped either way. Everyone in the hall waited for Ysgramor’s reaction; ready to grab their weapons and fight. His face turned a deep shade of red and his body started shaking. Then the corners of his mouth tweaked upwards and his eyes squinted. A low rumbling sound started to reverberate inside him and then he let out an enormous laugh which was almost deafening as he slapped his leg with glee. Soon others were laughing and Wyldfyre and her guides relaxed.

    I am no-one’s lusty wench!” He cried, wiping tears from his eyes as he continued to chuckle. “By the God’s woman! I haven’t had a good laugh like that for years” he said as he studied her appearance in her ancient nord armour. “But allow me to apologise My Lady. It was rude of me to speak to you so. Please do approach so that I may know you better” Wyldfyre strolled over and sat on the bench before him. A large tankard of mead was placed before her.

    “My name is Wyldfyre, and I am a member of the Companions, Sir.” She said then took up the tankard and drained it dry. When she placed it back on the table she was met by surprised eyes. She belched out some gassy air “And I am also no Lady” she grinned. The roar of laughter was thunderous. After the noise died down Ysgramor looked at her.

    “So lass, why is it you are here in the land of the dead?” Everyone turned silent, curious to hear her story. Wyldfyre felt self conscious with that many eyes looking at her. But these people, she needed their help if she was to succeed in her mission and go home.

    “Well, I don’t know it you are all aware that Alduin has returned” Ysgramor’s face grew stony.

    “That we do lass. He haunts our place of rest, feasting on souls lost out there in his unholy mist.”

    “We dare not go out in it” a young Companion added.

    “Well I have come to hopefully rid you and my world of him once and for all”

    “How can one lass with a crossbow do that?” The Companion leader asked.

    “I won’t be doing it alone” she looked at her three guides. “We four combined, will be able to defeat him”

    “But how can you be so sure?” someone asked.

    “Because I am Dragonborn” Wyldfyre answered. Astonished glances were exchanged. Muffled talking amongst the group conveyed a new hope amongst them.

    “Dragonborn?” Ysgramor said slowly. “Truly? Could it be we have hope after all?”

    “Now” Wyldfyre said then “I am not sure where I am in regards to where Alduin is, so I will need every bit of information you have.”

    “Tsun should be in here” someone said “He knows more than any of us”

    “Tsun can not leave the bridge; we will have to go out to him” Felldir spoke then. Wyldfyre made to stand but a hand held her arm gently.

    “Stay Dragonborn.” Harkon said to her “You need to rest and recover from your injury. Eat, Drink. Tsun and Alduin will still be there when you are ready”. Wyldfyre nodded, glad for the reprieve, for she did feel a little light headed. She had a plate pushed in front of her in seconds, piled with meat and bread and a bowl of fruit was also placed in front of her. As Wyldfyre ate she told the others how she came to be in their Hall.

    She had battled her way through Skuldafn, having to go up against half a dozen Deathlords scattered around the compound. She had been in a bow and arrow fight with one, thrown backwards down some stairs by another’s shout, and almost beheaded by another’s greatsword. Half way through she had to hole up in a small alcove to recover and take a healing potion. She had eventually made her way into the temple, battling all the way against draugr, through the twisting ruin until she eventually came to a door that led out onto the second most top balcony. Up some stairs she could see a raised dais in the centre of a large courtyard. The light show was coming from some sort of swirling void that Wyldfyre guessed to be the way into Sovngarde.

    Two dragons perched on either side of the yard, guarding the void, while a robed man with a staff stood on the dais. As Wyldfyre snuck closer she began to see that the man was no more than a skeleton in robes. She had no idea who or what it was, but the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

    “Dragon priest” Ysgramor interrupted. Others nodded.

    “I should have known Alduin would have used one of his subordinates to open a portal to this realm” Felldir hit the table angrily. Wyldfyre continued on. She had no wish to face the powerful dragon priest and two dragons so she steeled herself and then jumped up and ran for the portal. With her Were speed, she was up the stairs of the dais and jumping into the portal before the dragons or the priest could react.

    “A noble decision Dragonborn” Harkon smiled at her “It takes one of great strength of character to know when it is best to just run for it”

    “Indeed” Ysgramor nodded. “I don’t think I would have” he pondered “I would have tried to fight my way through”

    “Which is why you are here” Gormlaith chuckled. Ysgramor shrugged in a “you are probably right” kind of way. “What happened then Dragonborn? Why did Tsun find you unconscious near the bridge?”. Wyldfyre frowned slightly, trying to remember.

    “I.. my vision had cleared to a scene of beauty. The sky was shining purple and pink and below, down a flight of stairs I could see a white mist like a blanket, smothering everything. I didn’t know it was from Alduin at the time. I walked down the stairs and along the path and I met a soldier. A Stormcloak soldier. He asked me the way to the Hall of Valor. He was lost in the mist. He told me that it was from Alduin and that he was preying on the lost souls amongst it. I saw the Hall when I was up the top of the stairs and pointed the way to him. We continued on for a while, but then we heard flapping of wings and Alduin was there. He swooped at us and I knocked the soldier to the side, so Alduin could not get him. We ran through the mist but I heard the dragon coming back. I told the soldier to keep running and I stopped and turned and tried to take out my crossbow but Alduin’s tail hit me and I was thrown through the air. I can’t remember anything after that. I don’t even know if the soldier made it here...” she looked around at the faces who were riveted on her words. “Did he?” she asked them and then they all looked uncomfortable, and saddened.

    “I am sorry Dragonborn, he did not make it. Tsun said the soldier went back for you and dragged you to the bridge but then Alduin, took him.” Wyldfyre’s heart sank. A burning rage boiled over inside her and she looked up at the faces of the honoured fallen. This was not going to be their fate. They were not going to be prey for Alduin, to be gone even from their final resting place. She stood and backed away from the table, gripping the hilt of her sword.


    “There will be no more” she said in a low deadly voice. She looked at her three guides, the heroes of old. “Take me to Tsun” she demanded.
     
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  7. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR: A PLACE FOR SLEEP

    Wyldfyre craned her neck straight upwards as the Nordic God Tsun, Keeper of the Bridge, spoke quietly. He looked down at her sternly and pointed out again to her that normally, people did not make it across his bridge without firstly being tested. He had been tasked by Shor himself to stop anyone from crossing without showing that they were worthy. Wyldfyre nodded and thanked him, again, her patience wearing thin. She hoped he would soon get to the point instead of scolding her like a naughty child.

    “Tsun” Felldir interrupted “I am sure the Dragonborn is very sorry for not being conscious enough for you to administer your test, but now we have a bigger issue. Alduin..”

    “I am aware of your troubles and I can tell you that he is still here, in our realm, feasting on the lost souls out there in that mist.” The enormous man said while still studying Wyldfyre closely. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. She had been slightly in awe of him when they had first approached him after crossing the bridge made of bone. He stood statue-like before it, an imposing figure in ancient armour that only covered his lower torso and legs, as well as the huge Nordic battleaxe strapped to his back. Wyldfyre had never met a deity before and the God of Trials against Adversity was an impressive sight.

    She looked away now and scanned the immediate area. It was hard to see through the mist that hung over everything, but she could tell that Sovngarde was beyond beautiful. A small rocky stream bubbled down the hill to their right, growing in speed until it fell off the edge of the cliff, cascading into the chasm that separated the Hall of Valour from the rest of Sovngarde. Wyldfyre could picture it in better times, people roaming the grassy hillside, relaxing in the meadow, strolling along the paths. But Alduin had infested everything with his evil mist.

    A movement caught her eye and she saw a soldier running along the path, his face full of fear, and for a heart wrenching second Wyldfyre thought it was Ralof before she saw he was far younger than her friend.

    “Quickly! This way!” she shouted, startling the group, who all turned in the same direction.

    “By the Gods!” Harkon exclaimed. A great black shadow loomed up out from the mist and was heading straight for the petrified soldier. Wyldfyre, without thinking, raced down the stairs towards him.

    “RUN!” she screamed at him, while releasing her crossbow and setting a bolt. She stopped as the soldier sped past her and then she fired off a shot. It hit Alduin just as his great bulk broke out from the mist. He passed over her head, narrowly missing colliding with her again and Wyldfyre spun and released another bolt but it missed the dragon. Alduin roared in anger at being denied another soul and turned in the air and sped back towards Wyldfyre.

    “You have made it to Sovngarde, mortal, but you will not be leaving it!” he roared at her. Wyldfyre had to jump to the side to avoid being snapped up by huge teeth. Harkon and his sister were at her side, helping her up and drawing their weapons. They squinted into the mist, searching for the dragon.

    “How do we see the beast in this mist?” Harkon exclaimed.

    “Hush brother! Listen..” Gormlaith scolded him. They stood there, not making a sound, listening for the beat of wings. Wyldfyre’s keen hearing picked up the dragon coming at them from the right and she turned.

    “This way!” she warned them. Felldir had joined them and he gripped his Greatsword while peering out into the mist.

    “He comes!” Felldir exclaimed, just as Alduin broke free from his concealment again and fired a jet of flame towards the group, scattering them in all directions. Wyldfyre collided with Gormlaith as Alduin sailed past their heads and disappeared into the mist again.

    “There has got to be a better way than this” she said to the woman “We are standing here, ripe for the picking”. Gormlaith nodded and rubbed at a scorch mark on her arm.

    “You are injured” Wyldfyre observed. She had no idea the dead could be harmed in Sovngarde.

    “It is nothing” the warrior shrugged “The Worm did worse to me than that, Dragonborn. You saw it remember” Wyldfyre nodded. She had indeed. It was a sight she had hoped to forget.

    “I’m sorry” she apologised.

    “We all die, Dragonborn. I did it with honour, and that is all that matters. Alduin comes again..” she warned then. Wyldfyre peered into the mist and saw the black shape coming towards them. He swooped down at them again and managed to knock Harkon off his feet. A bloody gash appeared on his shoulder where his armour had been torn off. Wyldfyre and the others stood over him while he gained his breath again. She let out a growl of frustration. There had to be a better way than running around like frightened rabbits trying to avoid the eagle’s talons. If the mist was gone.....

    “Felldir” Wyldfyre said then “Can we clear this mist?” the old warrior looked thoughtful for a moment then his eyes lit up.

    “Clear Skies... do you know it?”

    “Yes! That’s it!” Gormlaith slapped Felldir on the arm. They looked at Wyldfyre expectantly.

    “I do know the Clear Skies shout. Are you thinking we combine our shouts to clear the mist?”

    “We can only give it a try,” he nodded then looked down to Harkon, who was more badly injured than they first thought. “..but not presently. Our comrade is in need of attention”

    “I am fine” Harkon protested as they helped him up. He winced in pain. Gormlaith shushed him.

    “You need attending to brother. We will fight the Worm another day. Come; let us return to the Hall.” Gormlaith and Felldir helped Harkon back over the bridge. Wyldfyre stopped next to Tsun, who looked out over the misty meadow, frowning.

    “This was never going to be easy, was it?” she said to him. Tsun’s eyes moved to study her and again she felt uneasy.

    “No it was not, Dragonborn.” He simply said. Wyldfyre looked around the raised platform.

    “Where is the soldier?” she could not see him anywhere and grew worried.

    “I tested him and sent him on his way” the god answered her.

    “Oh..? In the middle of our fight with Alduin?” she asked him. Tsun raised an eyebrow.

    “Are you questioning the actions of a God?” he asked her sternly. Wyldfyre backed away slightly and tried to smile.

    “Umm.. no. I guess not” she turned and quickly made her way back over the whale bone bridge and into the hall. Harkon was being fussed over by a couple of women, much to his sister’s disgust, and Felldir was nowhere to be seen. Wyldfyre herself had bumps and bruises all over her body from being thrown to the ground. A few scrapes bled, but she ignored them. Her head pounded from the bump she had received that morning. She spied Ysgramor and his group of Companions and trudged over to them.

    “How do you fair Dragonborn?” he asked her as she sat heavily. Someone placed a tankard before her and she reached for a tray of fruits.

    “Better than Harkon” she said, then bit into a soft fuzzy fruit that had a seed in its centre. It was sweet and sour at the same time. Wyldfyre studied it as Ysgramor continued.

    “You must think me a coward, hiding away inside the Hall like a frightened child cowers amongst his mother’s skirts.”

    “Not at all!” Wyldfyre exclaimed. “I’d probably be in here with you if I wasn’t the Dragonborn”

    “But it’s more than that lass” he said earnestly “You say you do it because you have a duty? But you have a choice, Dragonborn or not. You could have walked away from it all, but you chose to stay and fight. For us, for those you love, for Skyrim and her people!” The others nodded enthusiastically and Wyldfyre could see why Ysgramor was a great leader. He had a way with words. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and Wyldfyre turned to see the soldier she had saved.

    “Dragonborn” he said kneeling before her. Wyldfyre went red with embarrassment and helped the soldier up. He sat next to her and she offered him her tankard which he took gratefully. “I thank you again My lady” he said, causing some of the Companions to chuckle. Ysgramor shushed them.

    “Soldier, what is your name?” he asked the man.

    “Rogen Sir, Rogen of Rorikstead.”

    “May I ask, how is it you came to be here Rogen?” Wyldfyre asked delicately. She was not sure if the young man would want to discuss his death so soon after the fact. He scratched at his stubble and thought for a moment.

    “I’m not really sure. It is a little fuzzy”

    “Just what you can remember” she soothed him.

    “Well after the Dragon attack on Windhelm, Jarl Ulfric disappeared. No-one saw or heard from him again. Some of the men.... they were saying he had died, but... I never believed them.”

    “He is alive” Wyldfyre assured him. He sighed then continued.

    “It all kind of fell apart for a while. Then Galmar and Ralof began marshalling the troops once again and leading attacks on various Imperial strongholds. I was with a squadron tasked to taking back one of our own strongholds that had been taken. Fort Greenwall. Captain Ralof led us into the Fort and it was looking like we were going to retake it. I was up in one of the towers, fighting a last group of resistance and then suddenly I was here. I...Don’t know...how I died.”

    “An honourable death Lad” Ysgramor nodded. The soldier smiled slightly and drained his tankard.

    “I guess” he murmured. Wyldfyre felt a pang of pity for the young man; struck down in the prime of his youth. So much potential ended in a single moment. What was Ralof and Galmar thinking? Continuing the war at a time like this? And why had Ulfric not made an appearance? He had lost a leg but not his voice. He could have given his men a speech, boosted their moral. What was going on back there?

    “I’m sorry Rogen” she said then to the young man, placing her hand on his arm. She felt somehow responsible for him being there.

    “I am...was, a soldier My Lady” he said “Soldiers die in battle. I only wish...” He left his thoughts unsaid and got up and moved over to a window, staring pensively out to the scenery beyond. Ysgramor studied him before he looked back to Wyldfyre and noticed her concern.

    “Do not worry about the Lad. Some enter here with their hearts full of sadness at the world they have left behind. He will lament his loss and then his heart will mend. Like so many others before him”. Wyldfyre nodded and stood, looking for her friends. She found the siblings sitting at a small table, Harkon’s wounds having been tended and bound.

    “Where is Felldir?” she asked them as she approached.

    “I think he mumbled something about finding Jurgen Windcaller to ask about the shouts” Gormlaith answered her.
    “You look exhausted Dragonborn” she then observed. Harkon nodded and took another swig from his tankard. Wyldfyre did feel like she was about to collapse and looked around the great hall.

    “I could use a quick rest...where do you sleep here?” Gormlaith laughed.

    “The dead don’t sleep Wyldfyre” she used her name for the first time “What would we need to slumber for?”

    “You have a point. In any case I still do and I need to sleep now. So where can I rest undisturbed for a while?” Gormlaith stood and led Wyldfyre to a small room off the great hall.

    “This room has had many uses over the time I have been here, but never a bedroom before” she said as she swung the door open. Wyldfyre stepped inside to find a large, luxurious bed sitting in the middle of the room. A trio of candles burned on a table next to the bed and a white silk shift hung over a chair.

    “I thought you said you don’t sleep here?” she asked as she entered the room and tested the bed. It felt marvellous. She began shedding her armour as Gormlaith closed the door, away from prying eyes.

    “We don’t. Like I said, this room has had many uses and now it’s a bedroom.”

    “What do you mean?” Wyldfyre asked as she pulled the slip over her head. Her limbs suddenly felt very heavy and she yawned as she climbed onto the bed.

    “I mean” Gormlaith said as she opened the door. Before she stepped through it she continued “That it can be whatever you want it to be.” And with that she was gone, closing the door behind her. Wyldfyre lay there, her lids growing heavy as the flickering light of the candles played across the ceiling. She sighed and curled onto her side, her head burrowing into the soft pillow and she was soon asleep.

    *****​
    “You do not belong here She-wolf” a sharp voice startled Wyldfyre awake. She sat upright and glanced around the room to find she was alone. Unable to explain who had just spoken to her she began to put on her armour. She felt refreshed from her sleep but was slightly unnerved by that voice. It had thundered through her head like it had been spoken by some enormous omnipresent being. She was shaken at those words. She knew she did not belong here in the realm of the dead and she had every intension of leaving as soon as she could. She did not need to be told that. What did the voice mean by that statement? She picked up her weapons and left the room hurriedly, seeking out the heroes of old. She saw Felldir speaking to a man she did not recognise and she moved over to them. The man, dressed also in Greybeards robes turned and studied Wyldfyre as she approached. She slid her sword into its scabbard and stopped when Felldir turned and his eyes lit up at seeing her.

    “Ah, Dragonborn, there you are” he said excitedly. “Please allow me to introduce you to someone you should have knowledge on. This..” he indicated elaborately to the man by his side “Is none other than Jurgen Windcaller.” Wyldfyre’s eyebrows shot up, impressed.

    “It’s a pleasure to meet you” she said to him as he took her hand. She noticed his was cold to the touch. She wondered if all the souls in the Hall felt the same, this being her first flesh on flesh contact with one. Jurgen also looked down at their hands, then back into her eyes.

    “Long has it been since I felt the warmth of another’s touch” he said quietly. Wyldfyre grew uncomfortable and pulled her hand free. Jurgen paid it no mind and shook himself free from his revere. “The pleasure is all mine Dragonborn” he said to her.

    “I have been speaking to Jurgen about the use of the clear skies shout, Dragonborn” Felldir began as the tree walked over to where Gormlaith and Harkon sat. “And he seems to think that it will work on Alduin’s mist. But only if we combine our strength and shout together”

    “It’s what we expected” Wyldfyre nodded to the others then continued “I don’t think we should delay this any further. I don’t want Alduin to devour any more souls and... I don’t think I am welcome here”. The others looked at her confused.

    “What do you mean Dragonborn?” Harkon asked her, standing up and looking around. “Has someone said this to you? Point them out to me so that I may defend you in your name!” he started sliding his weapon out.

    “Stay your hand Harkon” Wyldfyre grinned. “As noble as your intentions are, it was not anyone amongst this place. In truth, I don’t know who it was. It spoke to me back in the room but when I opened my eyes, there was no-one there.” The others looked at each other oddly.

    “Are you sure of this Dragonborn?” Jurgen asked her intently.

    “Positive” she nodded. “It was just a voice and it told me I didn’t belong here”. Felldir looked at Jurgen.

    “Do you think it was....Him?” He asked the founder of the Greybeards. Jurgen peered around him.

    “Perhaps, but I don’t know for sure. It seems unlikely, but, who else could it have been?”

    “What?” Wyldfyre asked.

    “Yes Felldir, Jurgen, you are talking in riddles” Gormlaith said impatiently, standing up with the rest of the group.

    “It appears our host is not so dead after all” Felldir said to the group, nodding smugly as Gormlaith rolled her eyes. This was obviously something that had been debated many times in this realm but Wyldfyre still had no idea who they were talking about. She looked to Gormlaith for an answer.

    “It never ends” the warrior shook her head “all this time and they still think that Shor is somehow still alive”

    “But how do you explain the room that changes?” Felldir said to her heatedly “And how we never seem to run out of mead and food? And now the voice that spoke to the Dragonborn? Explain that all to me Gormlaith!” The woman opened her mouth to respond but just then, a soldier ran up to the group, gasping for breath.


    “Alduin” he panted “He has returned and is attacking the bridge!”. All arguments were forgotten as, in one swift movement, weapons were drawn and they all turned and ran for the bridge.
     
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  8. Lord Rokinges

    Lord Rokinges Official Fanfiction Judge

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    Yet still, a thriving, enjoyable series.
     
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  9. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    New chapter coming soon guys, sorry for the wait. I am writing my other book as well and have to prioritize. But I have not forgotten you. <3<3
     
  10. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE: DEATH BEFALLS US ALL

    As soon as Wyldfyre and the heroes exited the Hall they encountered a problem. Alduin had brought his mist closer to the Hall of Valour than ever before and it now engulfed the Whalebone Bridge. None of them could see to the other side of the ravine and even the mighty Tsun was enveloped in the cloud. They could hear Alduin roaring and great jets of fire shot out from the haze every so often. Wyldfyre assumed that Tsun was battling the dragon on his own. She wanted to get over there to help but was wary of setting a foot on the bridge without knowing how damaged it was.

    “We must use the clear skies shout!” Gormlaith shouted over the noise. “We can not cross the bridge if we can not see”

    “It will take all of us to clear Alduin’s mist” Hakon agreed with his sister.

    “Together then!” Felldir nodded. Wyldfyre gathered in her energy and shouted with the heroes.

    “LOK VAH KOOR!” the shout echoed across Sovngarde. Almost immediately the mist started to recede and they were able to assess what damage Alduin had done to the bridge. It looked to be sturdy enough for them to start crossing. Wyldfyre steeled herself and started first over the bridge, followed quickly by the others. Half way across they heard Alduin shouting and the fog enveloped them again. They came to a halt as the murky cloud surrounded them. Wyldfyre had trouble seeing her feet it was so thick.

    “Stay down low” Hakon whispered urgently to the others and Wyldfyre crouched where she was. They were each perched precariously on a whale bone and none of them could move any further. One misplaced step would mean a long fall and certain death at the bottom for Wyldfyre. As they perched there, a great dark shape lurked amongst the mist and Wyldfyre could feel Alduin searching for her. She knew he wanted to devour the souls of the dead in Sovngarde, but her in particular, a living human, the Dragonborn, he especially had an insatiable desire for. She could feel the lust he had for her flesh as he circled around them. The bridge swayed as Alduin passed by close, causing a wind to whip Wyldfyre’s hair about. She was nervous being on the bridge that was quickly becoming too unstable and the worst place for her to be at that moment. They needed to get off it quickly.

    “Clear skies again and this time we waste no time in getting off this bridge!” she whispered to the others. They shouted once again and as soon as the mist rolled back they were up and running across the rest of the expanse. They were almost to the other side when Alduin attacked again, colliding with the bridge, and sending splinters of bone hurtling through the air. Towards the end, Wyldfyre had to throw herself the rest of the way and she rolled over, looking back in time to see the great Whalebone Bridge collapsing in on itself and falling into the ravine. She stood shakily and once her feet touched solid ground she felt she could breathe again. She had enough time to find Tsun, standing at his usual post, before Alduin brought the mist rolling back in again.

    “Tsun, your bridge” Wyldfyre looked up at the god. “Are you all right?” he seemed to be unharmed but she felt she should ask anyway. He raised one eyebrow at her.

    “An odd question Dragonborn” he simply said, his fingers flexing on his weapon. Wyldfyre was about to say more but the flap of great wings alerted her to Alduin coming in for another attack. She unsheathed her crossbow and loaded a bolt into it, scanning the mist for a sign of movement, but a sudden blast of fire had them all scattering. It thankfully missed them. It appeared that Alduin was at a slight disadvantage in his own mist as well.

    “Clear this damnable fog!” Felldir called out in frustration from over to Wyldfyre’s left. They shouted for a third time and the mist rolled back, up over the meadow and receded enough for them to be able to see Alduin turning and heading for them again. They spread out on the platform, readying their weapons and gathering in their energy to shout.

    “Ready for Dragonrend!” Gormlaith shouted as she dashed to the right side of the platform they all stood upon. Wyldfyre loosed a bolt and it hit Alduin, ricocheting off his scales.

    “NOW!” she yelled as the dragon passed over their heads. Wyldfyre let lose a bolt while she shouted, it hit the underside of Alduin, piercing the thinner scales he had on his belly.

    “JOOR ZAL FRUL!” The Dragonrend hit Alduin and he roared in anger. He had grown in strength with the souls he had devoured in Sovngarde but four Dragonrend shouts directed at him, brought him writhing to the ground. The heroes and Wyldfyre all rushed in to hack at the dragon with their weapons. Wyldfyre had to avoid his teeth as he tried to snap her in half.

    “Aim for the smaller scales!” she yelled as she plunged her sword into his neck, but it only went in a third of the way as Alduin tore his head away from her. Her sword was almost wrested from her hands when the dragon took off into the sky again. She stumbled backwards as his wings flapped dangerously close to her.

    “What was that you said just then?” Gormlaith asked her, the warrior panting from her exertions.

    “His scales, they are too hard to penetrate except for between the smaller scales. Like his belly and around his neck and head” Wyldfyre explained. She wiped Alduin’s blood off her hands onto the grass.

    “Noted, Dragonborn” Gormlaith nodded and Felldir and Hakon also nodded. “We are aware of the vulnerability the dragons have in those areas. Normally it would put a lesser dragon down but Alduin...” she shook her head.

    “It may not put him down but it is slowing him. See..” she pointed to the ground that was sizzling anywhere a drop of the dragon’s blood had fallen. “He is losing blood with every wound we deal him”. They were only given a few moments of reprieve as Alduin returned with a new vigour. He swooped down upon them, landing on the ground boldly without having the Dragonrend shouted at him. He thrashed his tail about, trying to knock the warriors flying. He clawed along the ground towards Gormlaith and she had to retreat, but stumbled backwards on a rock, landing on her behind. Before Alduin could deal her a death blow her brother was before her, protecting her. Alduin reared up and grabbed at the warrior’s armour, his claws digging in. Wyldfyre and the others watched in horror as Hakon was carried off by the dragon, struggling feebly in his claws.

    “Brother!” Gormlaith called after him, but the dragon had disappeared into the mist beyond the meadow. All was silent as the others searched the horizon.

    “Focus that hatred Gormlaith!” Felldir said to her. She nodded, not daring to look at the others. Wyldfyre cast Felldir a look and he shook his head. There was little hope for Hakon’s return. She growled out loud in frustration.

    “Come back Alduin!” she shouted across the meadow, “Come back and face the Dragonborn!”

    “Such arrogance” a deep voice thundered back from within the mist “I will devour you mortal, just as I have your companion”

    “NO!” Gormlaith cried. A black shape moved through the mist and Alduin was there again. He gained in speed and blasted them with fire as he sped past, then turned and came back, but they were ready and shouted Dragonrend at him, causing him to land heavily. The three warriors rushed in to deal as much damage to the dragon as they could before the affects of the shout wore off. Wyldfyre was at his front end, distracting him while the others attacked him from the sides. He gathered himself up and she realised in time that he was about to blast her with fire. She dropped her sword and held up her hands. Her frost spell collided with his fire causing her frost to turn into burning rain and it singed her skin. The pain and heat was intense and she almost passed out from the force of it.

    Alduin was free again from the shout and launched into the sky. He looked to be growing weaker. Great wounds in his body rained down burning droplets of Dragonblood. It scalded the ground but fell harmlessly on Wyldfyre’s skin.

    “Your blood and fire can not harm me!” she shouted boldly at the dragon.

    “Then I shall tear the flesh from your bones!” Alduin roared angrily. He plunged towards her but she was ready. Her Were agility allowed her to jump just before Alduin’s teeth closed over her and she grabbed onto his neck. Her sword gripped tightly in her hand she began slashing at his head, the skyforged steel slicing through the sensitive parts near his eyes. Alduin flew over the meadow and Wyldfyre was thrown about until the slick blood covering her hands caused her to lose her grip and she fell from the dragon. She landed with a thump on the ground, the wind leaving her body. She recovered and rolled to her feet but Alduin was quick and he collided with her, the force sending her hurtling backwards across the meadow.

    She finally came to a halt on her back and Alduin landed and clawed his way towards her, cursing her and raging. Wyldfyre scrambled backwards as best she could towards the edge of the ravine that separated the Hall of Valor from the rest of Sovngarde. She was too winded to get to her feet and soon Alduin was right on top of her. He reared up and then slammed one clawed foot onto her chest. She felt a tremendous, searing pain as his claw pierced her armour, cracked ribs and tore into her flesh. Wyldfyre gasped at the immensity of the pain she felt.

    Everything seemed to slow down as Wyldfyre lay there impaled by one of the dragon’s claws. This was it. This was her time to die. She thought about the people she loved and had left back in Skyrim. Those who had believed in her from the very beginning when she still did not even know who she was or what she was to become. But she knew now. She was Wyldfyre the Werewolf, Wyldfyre the Dragonborn and she would not die without giving it her all. She would not die and leave her world to fight Alduin on its own. She had a moment of clarity when everything fell into place. This was what she had been born for, it was her task and hers alone and she would see it through, even though it would also end her. Alduin’s tongue snaked out and flicked at the blood that flowed from the wound in her chest.

    “Ah” he said slowly “The taste of mortal flesh on my tongue. I had forgotten how sweet it is”. He leaned over her and droplets of his blood fell onto her, mingling with her own.

    “Now, mortal” Alduin breathed in her face, emphasizing his words with a further twist of his claw, tearing at her flesh even more. “You will die”. Wyldfyre gripped her sword and gathered up the last bit of strength her dying body had. She spat out a great chunk of blood and it dripped from her mouth. . She briefly closed her eyes. Farkas, I love you...She then looked into Alduin’s eye and smiled maliciously.

    “I die today Alduin, but I am taking you with me!” and with that she plunged her sword up through Alduin’s mouth, forcing it up through his head and into his brain. The dragon bucked and writhed and Wyldfyre was thrown about, still pierced by the claw. The two stumbled to the edge of the ravine and Alduin let out a mournful cry as his body started to disintegrate and both dragon and Dragonborn toppled over the edge and plunged into the abyss.

    *****​
    Wyldfyre lay on a rocky outcrop, her breathing shallow, her body broken and spent. She had not fallen all the way into the ravine, landing instead on the small ledge she was on now. As she and Alduin had plunged into the ravine, the dragon’s claw was torn from her body, flinging her sideways and hitting the ravine wall before landing heavily on the rocks. She stared up at the small piece of sky she could see. Its swirling colours soothed her as she waited to die.

    The wound in her body was a horrific gaping hole in which her blood poured from. Wyldfyre could hardly breathe. She was also broken beyond imagining from the fall. She felt each and every brake and wound she had sustained in her fight with Alduin. She now wanted to die, ached for death. She coughed up a great gush of blood.

    “Dragonborn” a voice said to her. Wyldfyre blinked. It was the same voice that had spoken to her in the bedroom of the Hall of Valour. “You do not belong here” it told her again. Wyldfyre grew angry and tried to speak but her voice had left her. “Do not anger with me” the voice continued “For I have seen what you have done here and it pleases me. You have saved my realm and my people and for that I thank you.” Wyldfyre coughed again, she was nearly done.

    “But you are going to die She-wolf, and you do not belong here. You are bound to another whose name I will not utter in this place. All you need to know from me is that you can not die here”

    I do not have that choice.. she thought.


    “For saving my realm I will send you back to yours. You will be with those who love you in your final moments.” Wyldfyre’s vision started to blur as she felt the last of her life force almost trickle from her body. “Tsun, if you please” the voice asked. The last thing Wyldfyre heard was a shout and then she fell into eternal blackness.
     
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  11. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX: THE PRINCE AND THE BEAST

    “Arise She-wolf”. Wyldfyre blinked. Her eyes focused on a ceiling of tanned leather, lit by a ray of sunlight that shone through a crack in the tent flaps. She peered towards the tent opening and saw the blurred outlines of figures walking around outside. She slid her hands over her chest and felt no wound; her armour now in one piece like it had never been ripped apart by Alduin’s claw. Wyldfyre sat bolt upright. She should be dead. Or was she? She sat, blinking in the shaft of sunlight.

    “Do not keep me waiting She-wolf” the male voice demanded. Wyldfyre shuffled down the bedroll she had been laying on and parted the tent flaps to reveal a large encampment with dozens of men and women occupying it. She stepped out and stood, surveying the scene. A large fire pit was in the centre, ringed by tents. Over the fire roasted haunches of meat which dripped fat into the fire below. Every so often someone would carve a large chunk of meat off and take it away to be eaten. She studied the men and women gathered in the camp. They all had a feral, animalistic air to them. Wyldfyre sniffed the wind and smelt hunger, blood and death.

    “Ah, she graces us with her presence. Come to me new-blood” the strong male voice said from her right. Wyldfyre looked over to see a tall man standing there watching her. She could not stop her feet from taking her in his direction. The man had a presence about him that spoke authority to Wyldfyre. And Power. She was afraid of him as she approached. More so for the fact that his head was nothing more than an animal skull with two great twisting horns protruding out on either side. The hollow eyes seemed to pierce her through as she approached.

    “My newest hound” the man said as Wyldfyre stopped in front of him. His chest was bare and he wore animal skins on his lower half. A necklace of sharp canine teeth circled his neck. He reached out and stroked her tattoo. Wyldfyre’s hackles raised and she glared at him. She could not move her arms to slap his hand away. She struggled against the invisible force that held her in place.

    “Who are you?” she demanded “Where am I?” The man chuckled and grabbed her chin hard. Wyldfyre could not wrest herself from his grip as much as she tried hard to do.

    “My, you are a feisty one aren’t you?” he chuckled. “I am going to enjoy you immensely I can tell” He dropped his hand and sat down on a throne-like chair made from the bones of animals. A dark haired man came to his side and took the man’s great spear, standing still next to the chair. His eyes roamed over Wyldfyre and she glared at him to.

    “Who am I? Well let’s see. I am The Huntsman of the Princes, The Father of the Beasts” he said expressively “But you may call me Hircine” he bowed in his chair towards her. Wyldfyre frowned, thinking she had heard that name before but couldn’t remember when. She knew he was Daedra though, and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Is this the one the voice had spoken about? The one whose name it would not say? Why did she belong to a Daedra?

    “Where am I and why am I here?” she then asked. She was confused. She was dying in Sovngarde, and the voice had promised to send her back to Skyrim. Did she not make it back?

    “You are here because you are mine She-wolf” Hircine said in a deadly voice. “You made that bargain when you partook of the Were blood that courses through your veins and now your debt to me is to be paid...for all eternity” Wyldfyre felt the grip on her loosen and she took a stumbling step back.

    “I made no bargain with you” she shook her head. Hircine stood and strode towards her. He towered over her and she strained her neck to look into those hollowed eyes.

    “You did when performed the ritual and drank the blood. There is no arguing with me. The deal has been struck”

    “NO!” she shook her head “I will n....”

    “Wyldfyre!” someone called out her name. She spun and saw Skjor striding towards her.

    “Skjor!” she cried as he took her hands in his. He flashed her a warning look.

    “Forgive her my Prince” Skjor then said to Hircine “She is confused, most likely traumatised by her death. If you would allow me to calm her down?” The Daedric Prince stood silent then nodded.

    “Fine, my Second. Make sure she has better manners when she is next in my presence” Hircine turned and strode off out through the tents, his spear barer running along after him. Skjor let out an explosive breath.

    “By the Nines Wyldfyre! You don’t want to anger a Daedric Prince!” he turned to her shaking his head.

    “But I don’t understand why I’m here” she shook her head, tears starting to swell in her eyes. She dashed at them angrily. Skjor steered her towards a large tent and held open the flaps for her. She sat on a sawn off tree stump as Skjor squatted down in front her.

    “First, tell me what happened for you to end up here” he said to her. Wyldfyre told him of her story of riding Odahviing to Skuldafn and then entering the portal to Sovngarde where she and the heroes battled Alduin. She slowly told him of her final battle, her injuries and what the voice had said to her in her final moments.

    “It said it was taking me back to Skyrim, but...” she looked around the tent confused.

    “Well, you certainly are not in Skyrim. You are of the beast blood and are now in Hircine’s Hunting Grounds, and that can only mean that you did in fact pass away Wyldfyre” he placed a hand on hers. “I am truly sorry” Wyldfyre took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

    “Well to be honest I didn’t think I would come out of Sovngarde alive. At least I achieved what I set out to do and that was to rid Skyrim of Alduin” she said, smiling wryly. So this was to be her final home. She looked at Skjor. She had never been particularly close to him but at least she had one friend in this place. If this was to be her fate then she would accept it. She only wished she had got to see Farkas one more time. Her eyes settled on Skjor’s face.

    “Aela is doing fine now” she said to him. He smiled and nodded.

    “That is good to hear. But I have lost all emotional connections I had to those I left behind. All I know now is the hunt. Soon, in time you will become as I am.” Wyldfyre did not want to forget Farkas, Aiden, Lydia and the others. She vowed she would not forget the ones she had left back in Skyrim.

    “Tonight” Skjor continued “Before the Hunt, Hircine will introduce you to the pack. He will call you by a different name; your Wolf name. You are to accept it without question. Do you understand?” She nodded, wide eyed, overwhelmed by what was happening.

    “A Hunt?”

    “Every night, Hircine gathers his Weres, his Hounds and we hunt. It is the way of things.”

    “What is your wolf name?” she asked him.

    “I am Fallon” he puffed his chest out proudly. “Now rest, the first Hunt is always taxing on new bloods” He indicated to a bedroll and she stretched out on it. “One more thing” he said to her looking slightly embarrassed “The males of the pack will want you. In order for you to be safe and not, um.. attacked, I will need to claim you.”

    “Claim me?”

    “It’s the only way you will be safe from attack Wyldfyre. I am assuming you don’t want every male here having a turn with you?” Wyldfyre shook her head quickly. “Good then I will claim you as mine and you will be safe. That doesn’t mean that we have to, you know..”

    “Oh I know. Thank you” she said. Fallon then took the bedroll next to her and they lay there in silence until dusk.

    A blast of a hunting horn roused them from their slumber and the two left the tent to gather before Hircine’s throne. He sat in all his splendour, his spear in his left hand. The crowd of Were’s grew excited as they gathered and then were instantly silenced by Hircine’s raised hand.

    “New blood, step forward” he said in his deep booming voice. Fallon nudged Wyldfyre and she stepped forward, placing herself in front of the Prince. He stood and she suddenly felt herself turning to face the crowd and kneeling in front of them. “Turn so that all my look upon you” he said. Dozens of eyes fixed upon her and she was uncomfortable with the way some of them looked at her. Like she was a new prize to be taken. She briefly remembered the wild Were she had encountered when searching for Farkas and the look in his eyes was the same as the ones before her. She glared at all of them.

    “This She-wolf joined us today” Hircine announced, placing a hand on her shoulder. She was surprised it was warm and it left a tingling sensation on her skin. It wasn’t unpleasant. “And tonight she joins the pack to help us in our hunt!” Cheers and growls went through the crowd. Hircine held up his hand again and they fell silent, though an excited energy rippled through the pack and Wyldfyre started feel the same. Hircine squeezed her shoulder.

    “Stand She-wolf and be known to your pack as Shandra!” Wyldfyre, now known as Shandra, stood and she was greeted with whistles and yips from the pack. Then Fallon stepped forward.

    “My Prince!” he cried over the din, causing the others to look his way. Hircine faced him.

    “Ah Fallon, my Second, do you have something to contribute?”

    “Yes my Prince” Fallon said. He wrapped a hand possessively around Shandra’s arm and growled at the pack. “I claim this She-wolf as mine.” Angry growls followed his announcement and he continued “And anyone who wants to challenge that is welcome to!” he eyed them dangerously.

    “Anyone?” Hircine asked the pack. They all held back begrudgingly, disappointed they would not be having a go at the new-blood She-wolf. When no-one stepped forward, Hircine, somewhat disappointed then nodded “No-one is up to challenge Fallon. Very well. Shandra is yours” Fallon’s grip on Shandra’s arm relaxed and he dropped his hand.

    “I’m sorry about that” he whispered to her.

    “It’s all right Fallon, it had to be done” she whispered back. They joined the crowd and faced Hircine who had taken up a large, curled hunting horn.

    “Well, what are you waiting for?” he demanded and blew on the horn. The long mournful sound reverberated over the countryside and as one, the pack members stripped their clothing off and started to shimmer and convulse. Wyldfyre herself stripped off her armour and changed into her beast form. When the entire pack was a raging, snarling group of beasts, Hircine blew his horn again and the pack charged off into the wilderness, in all directions. Shandra saw Hircine run towards the woods and Fallon called to her.

    “This way!” and followed his Prince.

    The camp was set up on a plain beside a wooded area and the two Weres followed their Prince into the depths of the woods. Shandra was almost overwhelmed by the number of smells that filled her nostrils as they ran amongst the trees. She picked up Elk, Sabre cat, rabbit and bear scents and dashed about trying to capture something, anything that would sate the bloodlust coursing in her veins. She felt free and unbound and it was exhilarating. She would have laughed for joy if she were still human. One scent reached her snout that caught her full attention. Fallon had caught it too and they stopped, sniffing the breeze to determine which direction it came from.

    “This way!” she said and made her way through the underbrush towards the scent. She had never smelt anything like this and she was beyond curious as to what it was. Her bloodlust almost made her run for the animal but she restrained herself, for fear of frightening it away. Fallon and Shandra crouched in the bushes and looked upon the animal that they most desired. It was a stag, but it was unlike any Shandra had ever seen. It had four legs plus another set in the front to support its enormous head which was filled with antlers. They jutted out in all directions and ended in sharp points. It was also much larger than the stags that inhabited Skyrim.

    “What is it?” she asked in wonder, the saliva building in her mouth. Hircine crouched beside her.

    “It is an Oomas” he said “Very rare, a lucky find indeed” he looked at Shandra “Go get it for me” he half asked, half ordered her. Fallon made to stand but Hircine held him back. “Just the New-blood”. Shandra edged forwards through the underbrush, taking care where she placed each foot so as not to alert the Oomas with a careless snap of a twig. She circled around the stag until she was on its left side. Normally she would have taken it from behind, lunging forwards and biting into the back of the neck, but that part of the Oomas’s neck was protected by its set of spiky antlers. She would have to charge it and try to knock it over and then go for the soft underside of its neck. Shandra waited for a second, tensing her muscles, readying herself to pounce. Finally she launched herself forwards out from the trees, striking the Oomas with her claws and bowling it over. Her momentum however had her careening over the beast and she hit the ground heavily. She shook her head and staggered to her feet, but the stag was already standing back up and it reared its four front legs when she approached it snapping and snarling.

    The stag tried to strike her with its hooves and then launched itself forward, head down towards her, meaning to impale her on its antlers. Shandra dodged to the side but still acquired a deep wound to her hind quarter. She spun around and swiped at the stag, tearing great chunks of flesh from its neck. The stag bucked and blood splattered everywhere as she lunged for it again. Her sharp teeth closed over the underside of its neck and she was thrashed about as the Oomas tried to shake her off. The She-wolf had a taste of its blood now and she did not let go as the stag flailed about the clearing. Shandra planted her feet and pushed, tipping the stag over and they fell to the ground in a heap. She savaged at the stags neck, opening up a great wound and spilling the beast’s lifeblood. The Oomas kicked feebly until it was still and finally Shandra lifted her head, her muzzle dripping with blood. Hircine was before her and she could tell he was pleased. She howled in triumph.

    Later that evening after they had dragged the beast back to the camp, Shandra was met with appreciative growls and yips from her fellow pack members. They piled all the animals in the centre of the camp and Hircine stood before them as they gathered excitedly, ready to feast.

    “A good hunt my hounds!” he nodded “Shandra, step forward” She stood before her Prince, as a beast. He looked down at her.

    “This one” he said loudly “Brought down an Oomas, she has the right to....” he stopped suddenly, and cocked his head to the side as if listening to something only he could hear.

    “What is it my Prince?” Fallon stepped forward. Hircine looked at Shandra, his hollow eyes boring into her.

    “A subject prays to me. For you” he said to her.

    “Me?” she snuffed with surprise.

    “This is very interesting” he said “She wants to devote herself to me for your return. What do you think I should do Shandra?” he asked, clearly not expecting an answer. Shandra answered anyway.

    “Don’t do it my Prince!” she cried. “I won’t have others sacrifice themselves for me!” Hircine emanated with anger and the pack growled nervously, stepping back.

    “To join me in my Hunting grounds is a privilege, not a sacrifice, New-blood!” Shandra lowered her head in shame. Hircine was silent for a while and chuckled.

    “Another joins the first in prayer. It seems they would want you back to the land of the living”

    “Who prays for me, my Prince?” she pleaded with him. Hircine cocked his head again.

    “A huntress called Aela, and a man, one who calls himself Aiden..”

    “NO!” Shandra cried. Hircine looked at her for a long time while Shandra struggled to remain silent. She could not openly challenge her Prince’s decisions. But she desperately wanted him to decline Aela and Aiden’s offer. What were they thinking?

    “Two hardly seem enough for my new favourite Hound” Hircine said then, causing Shandra to shake her head in surprise. She had pleased her Prince so? “But they are persistent” he toyed with her. Shandra waited impatiently, the tension building inside her. “I find it quite honourable and selfless. You must have made an impression on these humans. Oh wait..” he held up a hand “A third has joined them.” No, Shandra thought to herself, this is too much. She couldn’t let her loved ones make a deal with the Daedric Prince for her. Hircine banged the butt of his spear on the ground.

    “The deal is done!” Suddenly Shandra felt herself being torn from the inside out as she was changed back into her human form. She staggered and fell to the ground on her knees. The last thing she saw was the Daedric Prince of the Hunt pointing his spear at her. “Until we meet again She-wolf” Shandra was torn from that plane of Oblivion and hurtled through an empty void before she felt her body come to rest on a hard surface. She gasped, sucking in a lungful of air like it was her first and sat bolt upright. She breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath and looked around her. She was in the Underforge in Whiterun, surrounded by her family. Suddenly she was engulfed by two strong arms and she recognised Farkas’s scent.

    “My sweet girl! You’re back! You’re back..”
     
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  12. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN: RESURECTION

    Disoriented, Wyldfyre pushed Farkas away and scrambled off the stone table she had been laying on, scattering candles everywhere.

    “Give her some room!” someone said. Wyldfyre stumbled about, her head turning from side to side as she adjusted to her new surroundings. Her hands flew to her chest and she felt nothing but smooth skin. The gaping wound was gone. Her limbs no longer broken and every scrape and bruise healed. Was this real? Was she really back in Skyrim or was this a cruel trick played by Hircine? She shook her head to clear it then stood still, surveying her family as they stared at her in shock. She sought out Aela and her brother and stalked over to them in a rage.

    “What have you done!” she yelled at the two. They were standing together in front of an altar and both stepped back in awe of Wyldfyre’s anger. Aela glared at the fired up red-head.

    “We did what had to be done Sister”

    “You made a deal with Him! And you!” she turned on her brother and jabbed at his chest.

    “Who gave you permission to deal with a Daedric Prince for me?”

    “No-one gave us permission sister” he soothed her “It was our choice to make. I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting you back.”

    “But you are bound to Hircine now, both of you, forever. Why would you do that?”

    “Because too many people love you to just have you leave us!” Aela said heatedly. “Honestly sister, I thought you’d at least be a little more grateful”

    “I am!” Wyldfyre yelled “It doesn’t mean I can’t be angry at you for sacrificing yourselves to save me!” she ranted back and forth across the Underforge, throwing curses at the pair before she stopped in her tracks. “Wait.. He said there were three of you.. Who else? Who else did it? Tell me!” she whirled on Farkas who was staring at her wide-eyed with his mouth open.

    “I did” Wyldfyre stopped her angry ranting when Farkas announced the third person was him. She stood dumfounded before sucking in air, ready to yell at her husband, but then Kodlak stepped out from the shadows.

    “Wyldfyre” he said, his voice filled with the authority that made her check herself. “That is enough daughter. What’s done is done. Aela, Aiden and Farkas made the deal with the Prince of the Hunt to bring you back to all of us. You must accept their sacrifice graciously and let it go”

    “But..” her lip trembled when she thought of the enormity of what her family had done for her. She felt she did not deserve it at all. But the look on Kodlak’s face quelled any protest she wanted to make. Instead she looked about the room. Lydia was not there but Vilkas, along with the others were gathered around her. She felt a chill and looked down at herself and blinked in alarm. She was wearing her wedding dress.

    “Why am I wearing this?” she plucked at the bust line, trying to cover her breasts a little better.

    “Farkas thought you should wear something nice, you know, while you were dead” Aiden smirked at her, winking his one good eye. Wyldfyre glared at Farkas and he gave her a sheepish grin. She strode over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His arms encircled her and Wyldfyre was pressed to his chest.

    “Well I think we should leave them alone” Vilkas chuckled. “Lydia will be wanting to know that Wyldfyre is back with us.” They all filed out of the Underforge and soon it was just Wyldfyre and Farkas. He led her to a stone bench and they sat. Farkas held her hands and kissed them. He shook his head in amazement, brushing loose hairs from her face.

    “I’m still angry at you” she pouted.

    “I know my love” he nodded.

    “How long have I been gone for?” she asked him.

    “Since you flew off on that dragon’s back, there has been a full moons turn.”

    “A month?” she blinked in surprise. It had not seemed like a month to her. She was only in Sovngarde for two days and the Hunting Grounds for one. She said this to Farkas who looked slightly confused.

    “I don’t know how, but you were gone a month. I was beginning to get really worried and was preparing to go out in search of you, but then that red dragon appeared outside the city with you on its back.”

    “Odahviing brought me back?” she said bewildered. “From where? How did he find me?” Farkas shook his head.

    “We have no idea, only that he brought you, hanging to life by a sliver of a hair, and after we took you he just..flew off”

    “How odd” she mused. Farkas’s eyes grew wide with terror.

    “When I saw you. You had, your chest..”

    “I know, I was there when it happened” she smiled wryly. It was a pain she would never forget.

    “By the Nine!” Farkas swore. He couldn’t even imagine the pain and suffering she had gone through. “What happened in Sovngarde then? Is Alduin still there or is he back in Skyrim? We’ve not heard anything from him.”

    “I imagine you would not” Wyldfyre said, eyeing a bottle of mead. Farkas noticed and poured her a tankard which she downed in one gulp and held it out for more. She was ravenous for some reason. “The World Eater is dead” she said simply. Farkas stopped pouring and looked up in surprise.

    “What?”

    “Alduin is no more. I may have died doing it, but I killed him while I was at it”

    “By the Nines!” Farkas swore again.

    “Jarl Vignar needs to know this so he can send word throughout the Provence.” Wyldfyre made to stand but Farkas held her gently.

    “My love, it’s the middle of the night. Vignar can wait. You must be tired. Rest up and we can go together in the morning.”

    “All right” she agreed. “Though I’m not tired. In fact I feel wonderful, like I’ve been reborn without the aches and pains I used to have, and I am starving.” She looked at Farkas with hooded eyes. “For food and...other things” she smiled at him archly. Farkas grinned and took her in his arms, kissing her deeply. They did not come out of the forge until well after midday.

    To say that Vignar was shocked by Wyldfyre’s news would be an understatement. But he recovered quickly and sent for couriers so that the good news could be spread across the land. He also proclaimed the day to be forever known as a Hold holiday in honour of Wyldfyre’s efforts. A banquet was also mentioned. Wyldfyre accepted the Jarl’s thanks graciously but was more than embarrassed by the holiday and the banquet arrangements. But Jarl Vignar wouldn’t hear her protests and so she nodded her head and thanked him. She and Farkas returned to the Mead Hall where most of the Companions had gathered, along with the circle and Lydia. She carried Gisli on her hip and hugged Wyldfyre for the tenth time that day.

    “I just can’t believe they brought you back from.. you know” she leaned in and whispered “the dead”. The Circle had decided that Wyldfyre’s death and her subsequent resurrection did not need to be made public knowledge. In particular how she was brought back from the dead. The general population did not need to know about deals with Daedric Princes. All that was told was she was injured but had made a complete recovery thanks to the healing skills of the Companions and a powerful health potion.

    “I know” Wyldfyre looked about and steered them into a corner for more privacy. “I’m feeling terrible about what they did. I am truly grateful, beyond words, but... to make a deal with Hircine. Lydia, that place.. the Hunting Grounds, it was so primal and raw. I hate thinking that, because of me, three people I love, my family will be forever bound to that place when they die.”

    “Was it really that terrible?” Lydia asked adjusting the babe on her hip. Wyldfyre held out her hands and Lydia handed the babe over. She smiled down at the little girl with yellow eyes. She would be Hircine’s to one day. She wondered if Lydia even knew that.

    “No. Not really. Hircine was a firm but fair Prince. Fallon was his Second and he seemed to regard him with esteem. And the hunt was exciting and exhilarating. I guess if you liked that kind of thing, it’s not such a bad place.”

    “Fallon?”

    “Oh, I’m sorry. We had different names on the Hunting Grounds. Our Wolf names. Hircine gave them to us. Fallon was Skjor”

    “Skjor! Really? He was there?” Lydia asked surprised.

    “He helped me when I first arrived. Naturally I was a little distraught” Wyldfyre nodded.

    “So...what was your wolf name?”

    “Shandra” Wyldfyre answered. Lydia cocked her head to one side peering at her, then nodded.

    “It suits you” she finally said.

    “Do I tell Aela about seeing Skjor? I don’t want to bring up any sadness for her, but I think she would like to know he is doing fine”. Lydia thought for a second then nodded.

    “I think you should tell her. It will do her well to know”

    Preparations for the grand banquet were well under way and as people started filtering into the city of Whiterun Wyldfyre grew more anxious. The simple banquet had turned into a massive affair and that was not all. There was going to be a parade in honour of the Dragonborn. People were busy erecting lamp poles to line the streets, tying colourful buntings between them and making dragon-shaped lanterns. Wyldfyre constantly had to answer questions like what colour this bunting should be, how big should the dragon teeth be on this lantern, or what cuts of meat did she think best go with spiced wine? It was all getting too much for her and soon she slipped into the Underforge to escape the endless questioning.

    She sat on the stone table that was her shrine just a week ago, her knees pulled up to her chin, leaning back against the cold rock. She sighed in the quiet, letting the cool of the cave calm her.

    “Dovahkiin” a voice whispered in her ear. Wyldfyre started and looked about.

    “Paarthurnax?” she said in surprise.

    “It is I, Little One”

    “How are you speaking to me?” she asked, bewildered, but gladdened to hear his voice.

    “That is a very interesting question. I have felt your presence ever since you arrived back here on my rock”

    “I came back on top of the Throat of the World?” Why had Tsun sent her back there?

    “Indeed you did. Bloody and broken beyond repair. Krosis, I could not help you. I had Odahviing take you down to Whiterun so that your loved ones could claim your body. But I felt you even from that distance. I felt you like one of my kin. Then you were gone, then you returned” he explained to her, though none of it made sense.

    “I don’t understand how you can feel my presence like a dragon. And the reason why you couldn’t for a while is because I died”

    “But now you are back” he said inside her mind.

    “I am” she said, she did not go into detail about her resurrection. “Alduin is dead”

    “We know Dragonborn. We felt it the second it happened. It was like a great tearing within our hearts”

    “I thought you wanted him dead?”

    “I did Little one, but that does not mean that I can not mourn for my brother. A loss is a loss and this one was by far the greatest we of the Dov have felt for a long time”

    “I’m sorry” she apologised. She was not entirety sure if she meant it though. Alduin deserved to die, if not for Skyrim than for what he had done to her. A vision of his great head looming over her flashed through her mind and she shared it with Paarthurnax. She felt his interest and concern and then surprise.

    “Alduin’s blood” he said then.

    “What about it?”

    “I saw in your vision that it dripped on you, mixed with your blood. Now it makes sense.”

    “What does that mean?” she asked alarmed. She had the World Eater’s blood now coursing through her veins.

    “Krosis, I do not know Dovahkiin. I can sense you due to Alduin’s blood, but beyond that, it is unknown to me”

    “I do feel really good. A lot better than I’ve ever felt before, stronger even..” she said. She thought after Hircine had mended her he had given her an extra boost but now she was not so sure.

    “Think of it as a parting gift” Paarthurnax chuckled.

    “Yes, along with the claw in my chest” she said wryly. They conversed for a while longer before Paarthurnax left her mind and she continued to sit there in her solitude, thinking about what the old Dragon had just revealed to her. She left the Underforge at lunch time, her stomach growling for sustenance. She had found she also had an increased appetite since her re-awakening. In particular for meat that was more on the raw side. Farkas thought it was endearing, but now she knew it was from the different types of blood she had in her system. Were, dragon, it was a wonder she was still sane.

    The Evening of the festivities drew cool and breezy but everyone was in good spirits; happy to have something to celebrate in an otherwise non-eventful existence. Children held on to poles that kept the dragon lanterns from floating away and they shone in the moonlight, lit from within by a small wick. Wyldfyre studied the painted faces of the lanterns. Most of them had bared teeth and spewed out great gushes of fire. She shuddered in the cool. Farkas put a hand on her arm and rubbed it. She was wearing new armour that Eorlund had made for her. It was a cross between the Companions wolf armour and her old Ancient nord. It was less revealing than the scraps of leather that made up the ancient nord armour. The breast plate was now carved steal and the skirt a mix of chain mail, dark leather and large carved steal circle links. She also wore the wolf armour boots and stylised gauntlets. Eorlund had worked night and day to get it ready for her and had produced something spectacular.

    She placed a hand on the pommel of her new Skyforged steel sword and a moment of sadness washed through her. She had lost her sword and her beloved crossbow when she and Alduin had tumbled over the edge of the ravine. She dearly wanted to get another of the dwarven crossbows. Eorlund had offered to make her a bow from some Dragonbone but she declined. She felt oddly ill at ease at the thought of wielding weapons made from the bones of dragons; her Kin. It just didn’t seem right.

    “It’s a beautiful night” Farkas commented. Wyldfyre roused herself from her revere and smiled up at him.

    “It is indeed my love” she pecked him on the cheek and took her seat at the marquee that had been set up for important guests. Jarl Vignar was already seated, along with Kodlak and representatives of the other Jarls. It was too risky for the Jarls to travel with the Provence still in a state of civil war, but with the person elected to stand in their name came letters of thanks and gifts. Wyldfyre was astounded with the wealth of gifts she was presented with. Soon a pile half her height was stacked in one corner of her and Farkas’s room below the Hall.
    A distant horn sound and then bright cheery music filled the air. Everyone strained their necks to see the parade as it made its way from the city gates, turning left through the upper districts and then back down to the main square that normally was filled with market stalls during the day. It was the only place that could hold so many people. Wyldfyre smiled politely and waved at the children as they passed by her tent waving their dragon lanterns. They were followed by musicians, bards and various street performers. Soon the square was filled with music and laughter and excitement.

    Wyldfyre was enjoying the antics of one particularly springy acrobat when a movement beyond the crown caught her eye. She stood, her eyes narrowing as her Were vision caught three robed figures making their way into the city. A flash of red made her hackles rise and she backed away from the table, causing her chair to clatter to the floor. Vignar frowned but was otherwise engrossed in the frolicking. Wyldfyre indicated to Farkas and Vilkas and the three of them left the tent and edged around the crowd.

    “What is it?” Vilkas asked her in her mind, the din of the crowd to great to speak normally.

    “Three men. I have seen their like before. Dangerous, some sort of cult” Wyldfyre communicated to them as she hurriedly led them towards the uninvited guests. They were near Shieldmaiden’s Smith, huddled in a small group, and Wyldfyre and the others crept around the back of the house. The noise of the festival lessened as they drew further away.

    “Take them quickly, so as not to alarm anyone.” She said to the brothers who were taking out their weapons and flexing. “But be careful, they know magic”. They nodded and separated, Vilkas going back towards the front of the building to act as a distraction while Wyldfyre and Farkas crept up behind the group.

    They took them by surprise, managing to kill two of them before they could even cry out. The other ran off down the street towards the gates but Vilkas ran him down.

    “Take him alive!” Wyldfyre hissed at the last second and Vilkas changed the swing of his greatsword and brought it down upon the man’s head. A large crack had him crumbling to the ground. Wyldfyre walked up to the unconscious man and glared down at him, her bloody sword dripping from her hands.


    “Now I find out once and for all who these cultists really are” she said in a deadly tone.
     
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  13. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    That's it for a while my friends. I am on holiday and won't be posting until I get back. <3 you all.
     
  14. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    I'm back my lovelies! and here is the next chapter for you to thank you for being patient while I took my break. <3 you all.

    CHAPTER SEVENTY EIGHT: SECRETS

    Wyldfyre stared down at the body with disappointment. The robed man they had taken prisoner lay dead on the floor in a dark room underneath Jorrvaskr. They had managed to smuggle the unconscious man into the Mead Hall during the festivities without too much suspicion and had tied him up in the small room they reserved for sick Companions. When Wyldfyre removed the man’s jagged mask it revealed a dark elf underneath. The twins had frowned, confused.

    “What’s a Dunmer doing here in these odd robes, looking for you?” Vilkas had asked Wyldfyre. She shrugged and crouched down before the man who was slowly coming around. He groaned and his eyes flickered open. They shocked Wyldfyre. Not because of their characteristic redness of the Dunmer race, but for the look of utter fanaticism in them when he focused on her.

    “ Deceiver! We know you are the False Dragonborn! You shall not stand in the way of the true Dragonborn's return. You...”

    “Who are you talking about?” Farkas questioned the raving man. He stared at Wyldfyre while he continued his tirade.

    “Lord Miraak, you half whit, He comes soon, and we shall offer Him your heart! When Lord Miraak appears all shall bear witness. None shall stand to oppo....." The dark elf slumped to the floor as the back of Farkas’s hand collected with his face. Wyldfyre stood and motioned to the others. They left the room and gathered outside.

    “I don’t think we are going to get much information out of him” she said.

    “You told me that you had encountered these fanatics before? On the Throat of the World. Did you get anything from those ones?” Vilkas asked her.

    “Not really. Just a note, and they said pretty much what that one just did, and I had to kill them all, else I be killed myself”

    “It’s fine Love” Farkas rubbed her arm. “We’ll let him cool off for a while and try again later.”

    “Alright” Wyldfyre nodded, and turned back towards the room, opening the door and stepping in “But I don’t want to leave him alone.... Gods Dammit!” She cursed, rushing over to the now convulsing man. He had managed to slip some sort of poison past them and within seconds he was dead, a black liquid trickling from his mouth.

    She sighed again and left the room, followed closely by the twins. She was no closer to learning who these fanatics were that were so caught up in killing her. Wyldfyre was taking this threat to her life more seriously now. One attack could have been shrugged off, but tonight’s attack had her worried. She needed to look at the note again and work out where these people were coming from and just who this Miraak person was. Just the fact that they were now entering her own city made her angry. Putting the lives of the people she loved in terrible danger. She was annoyed that she had only just gotten rid of one major threat, just to have to face another. Farkas saw the look on her face and took her in his arms and she sighed.

    “I know you are disappointed, but there was nothing you could have done. We’ll find out what this all means”

    “It’s just, oh Farkas, I feel like I have only just returned to the land of the living and now I face some new threat.”

    “I know my love” was all he could say. What else could you say to the Dragonborn, slayer of the World Eater? He squeezed her tight.

    Later, when the festivities had wound down, Wyldfyre and the other members of the circle gathered in Kodlak’s room. They were all curious as to why the old man had called them together. They took up chairs and perched on tables and waited expectantly for the Harbinger to speak.

    “Firstly” he started, looking over to Wyldfyre and the Twins. “There is a little matter of some housekeeping to be done. I trust you will have that done before anyone else discovers it?”

    “Yes Father, I’ll take care of it after this” Vilkas nodded. They still needed to remove the dead fanatic from Jorrvaskr. Kodlak nodded, satisfied.

    “Well then, why we are gathered at this late hour? It has come to my attention that certain members of the group that call themselves the Silverhand have become more active lately. Aela..” he looked to Aela who stood. Aiden was at her side as usual.

    “We tracked a small group of them coming out of Ivarstead heading north. So we followed them and have found they have a small hideout in a cave system called Lost Knife Cave. We watched it for a few days. There was a lot of activity coming to and fro. A lot of messengers.”

    “You think they are organising something significant?” Vilkas asked.

    “We can’t be sure unless we intercept one of those messengers. Or infiltrate the cave itself.” Aiden said.

    “They are bound to have plans of some sort inside” Wyldfyre said, her hand resting on her sword.

    “I do not approve of what you are all thinking” Kodlak spoke up and they all fell silent “However...” he continued “...I can’t sit back while our greatest enemy appears to be making plans. An attack on our home would be disastrous.”

    “For them!” Aela said vehemently.

    “I do not want to go in with all force however Aela. Stealth would be better fitting for this mission”

    “We should be wiping them out before they do it to us!” Vilkas said hotly.

    “I will NOT condone taking lives for the sake of killing, Vilkas!” Kodlak said with authority.

    “I’ll go” Wyldfyre said. Kodlak closed his eyes briefly before he turned to her.

    “Daughter, you are not long returned to us. I fear...”

    “I’m fine father. In fact I feel better than ever. If I take Farkas with me we should be able to slip in and out without too much fuss and then we will have the upper hand if we know what the Silverhand is planning.” She hoped she sounded convincing. A mission like this would give her back a sense of belonging to the world. Ever since she had returned from the dead she had felt somehow removed from mortal existence; like she was just teetering upon the edge of it. Alduin’s blood now coursed in her veins and she felt powerful. Like a slumbering volcano ready to explode. Getting out and doing something totally not related to dragons and being the Dragonborn may help her feel like she once again belonged to the land.

    She also itched to transform into her Were shape, having not had the chance to do so since she got back. She also had an agenda in requesting Farkas accompany her. They had, after all, not had much time alone while staying at the mead Hall. Just the sight of him lately was driving her mad with desire. She wanted him with an intensity like never before. The combination of new feelings and intense emotions running through her was keeping her at a heightened state and she was almost tearing off her skin in agitation. She needed to leave the city.

    “All right” Kodlak said after studying her for a moment. “You and Farkas go see what you can find, but be careful and try not to slaughter everyone in sight.” He aimed that last bit mainly at Farkas who nodded and grinned. The meeting adjourned and they filed out from the room.

    “Wyldfyre” Kodlak called her. She waited for the others to leave and then sat opposite the Harbinger.

    “Did you speak the truth before or did you just say what you thought I would want to hear?” his eyes bored into her as he took her hands in his.

    “I spoke the truth Father” Wyldfyre nodded. Kodlak sat back and smiled slightly. He then placed his hand on an old leather-bound book that sat on the table. Wyldfyre’s eyes studied it.

    “This is my journal Daughter.” Kodlak said then. “I should like you to have it...if something ever happens to me”

    “Father?” she looked up quizzically from the journal.

    “Just in case” he smiled at her. Wyldfyre was concerned. They way he said it. It was like he knew something was going to happen. Something bad.

    “Now I would ask something of you. Something you can refuse to do, but I am hoping you won’t”

    “Anything for you” she said which made the Harbinger chuckle.

    “Don’t be so quick to agree until you hear my request” he smiled, then a serious look fell across his face “Wyldfyre, when I first saw you I knew immediately you were destined for great things. And you have not proved my instincts wrong.”

    “Thank you” she said slightly embarrassed.

    “There is something I ask of you. I, find it difficult to speak of it but I can’t let this rest any longer. Do you know how the circle became Werewolves....?”. Wyldfyre leaned forward, intrigued.

    Wyldfyre left Kodlak’s room troubled, but now with a second mission. A secret one. She swore secrecy to Kodlak when she promised she would fulfil his request. She was still amazed at his revelations. The Circle was created from a witches spell! A previous Harbinger had made a pact with the Glenmoril Witches, but was deceived and the enchantment remained permanent. Which in turn caused all Circle members to be bound to Hircine upon their death. Kodlak had revealed to Wyldfyre that the curse, as he called it, could in fact be broken. He had tasked her to seek out the foul witches and collect their heads. Wyldfyre had never seen a Hagraven before but knew they were a powerful enemy indeed. She had to do this mission alone, as Kodlak didn’t want any of the others to know about the curse being able to be broken until he actually tried it. On himself.

    “Everything all right?” Farkas asked her when she entered their room. He was already out of his armour and was getting ready to go down to the baths. Wyldfyre started to strip off her armour as well. Farkas helped her out of her shoulder plates.

    “It’s fine” she lied “Kodlak just wanted to check that I really was all right” she hated lying to her husband, but she had sworn. She turned when the last of her armour was gone and smiled at him.

    “Let’s go, I feel dirty and horrid” she said. Farkas grinned at her and she punched him playfully on the arm.
    The next day Wyldfyre and Farkas left the city of Whiterun behind them and made their way south towards Riverwood. They intended to take the mountain pass that would lead them down into the Rift and Ivarstead. It was a longer way to go than the other route north-west but they wanted to stop in to see Annekke and her baby and check on Wilhelm back at the Lake House. It seemed like years since Wyldfyre had set foot inside her own house and she was feeling her excitement grow with every passing mile. After visiting with Annekke and her son, they rode on quickly to the Lake House. As they approached they both sensed that the house lay empty.

    “Wilhelm must be in Falkreath for supplies” Farkas commented as they tied their horses up in the stable.

    “Yep, it seems he’s only just left” Farkas said when they entered the house, a kettle still warm from the fire rested on a table in the kitchen. “He’ll be gone for hours” he turned to Wyldfyre who leaned in the doorway. She smiled and arched her eyebrow then turned and raced for the bedroom, followed closely behind by her voracious husband. He caught her at the dining table, grabbing her around the waste while she giggled. He backed her into the table as they found each other’s mouth, kissing with such unconstrained passion. Farkas picked Wyldfyre up and carried her to their room. Armour was stripped of with fast hands and soon the couple were entwined on the bed.

    They slept for a few hours and finally awoke to delectable smells wafting from under the bedroom door. Farkas lit a lamp as nightfall had settled outside.

    “I guess Wilhelm is home” he smiled down at his wife. Wyldfyre stretched luxuriously, still relishing in the euphoria of their fervent lovemaking. Farkas traced a finger around one pert nipple making her shiver with delight. He wanted to take her again but his stomach also called out a new hunger to him. One that could only be sated with Wilhelm’s excellent cooking. He leaned down and kissed her.

    “Come on, let’s eat. I’m sure Wilhelm has outdone himself again.” He got up, causing Wyldfyre to let out a little whimper of disappointment but she had to admit that she was famished. They dressed and strolled into the kitchen, just as Wilhelm was serving out portions of a hearty beef stew into bread trenchers. Wyldfyre kissed him on the cheek.

    “Hello love” he smiled at her “Nice to see you two back home” he placed their plates on the dining table and went to fetch his own. He returned with a bottle of mead and filled three tankards.

    “I’m afraid it’s only for the night” Farkas said as they all started eating. “We’re on a job”

    “Oh a Companions mission eh?” Wilhelm looked interested but not so much to be too nosey about it. He knew Farkas long enough to know that some Companions jobs were on a need to know basis. Especially if it involved members of the Circle. He knew they were Weres. At first, when Farkas had told him a year ago, when Wyldfyre was missing, he had taken the news with a bit of shock, but had quickly adjusted to it. Farkas and Wyldfyre were, after all, family, and he loved them like they were his own children. He had been completely devastated when Wyldfyre had gone missing and then losing his Inn. The only comfort was living there at the Lake House with Farkas. The joy he felt when she returned left tears in his eyes. Now that he thought back on it, he realised with a slight chuckle that Wyldfyre went missing a lot. But she always returned.

    “It shouldn’t be for long” Wyldfyre said “We will be coming back here, or I will be while Farkas returns to Whiterun for a while”. Wyldfyre had discussed with Farkas what they were going to do when they left the Silverhand hideout. She told him she wished to stay at the Lake House with Wilhelm for a while, having missed him and the house while they were in Whiterun. Farkas had not found any fault in her reasoning which made her feel even guiltier about her real reasons for wanting to stay. While Farkas returned to Whiterun, she would be making her way west to Glenmoril Coven, a cave were the Hagravens resided.

    “It will be nice to have you here” Wilhelm smiled.

    The next day saw them mounted on their horses early and riding east past Helgen and through the pass in the mountains that lead down into the Rift. Farkas complained about the snow and his horse. He did not like riding one bit, preferring to walk, or run everywhere. But they needed speed for this mission and so he had reluctantly agreed to travel on horseback. Wyldfyre was happy to be riding but missed Frost. A pang of grief clutched at her heart when she remembered her faithful friend. They passed through Ivarstead without incident and descended the mountain into the valley below, their horses picking their way gingerly down the steep trails. When they reached the bottom and came out onto the fields of hot springs, Wyldfyre began to feel a prickling sensation on the back of her neck.

    “Hold” she pulled up her horse and looked around frowning. Farkas halted his ride and looked at her quizzically.

    “You smell trouble?” he asked her, reaching for his sword, but Wyldfyre shook her head. More to get rid of the painful sensation that set her teeth on edge. She had felt this before, but not as painful. It was when she had conversed with Paarthurnax in the Underforge. There had been that tingling sensation but Paarthurnax had been gentle, this one.. it was almost unbearable. Wyldfyre got down from her horse and rubbed at the back of her neck vigorously, grunting in pain. Farkas slid of his horse, coming to her quickly with concern.

    “Love, what is it? Are you hurt?” he held her as she doubled over in pain crying out. Now he was truly alarmed. “Wyldfyre, what’s wrong?”

    “I can’t get it out!” she beat at her neck falling to her knees. Suddenly the pain stopped and she sat upright as she heard a voice inside her mind. It spoke in an ancient tongue that she now found she knew how to speak, to understand. A vast vocabulary filled her mind and it flowed over her tongue as she mouthed the words being spoken to her. Farkas could only watch on in horror as the guttural sounds flowed from her, her eyes rolled back and her body rigid.

    “So the Kriid* of my Lord comes to my place of rest. You may have destroyed Alduin but you will not be so lucky with me, Joor!” Wyldfyre threw her head back and peered up at the sky as the sound of leathery wings grew ever closer.

    “Dragon” she whispered.








    *slayer
     
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  15. Hæð Eik

    Hæð Eik Active Member

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    Shadowkitty, I was up until 2am last night reading. You are a great writer! Your whole story flows so well, and I love how Wyldfyre grows and progresses, as do all your characters. Just thought I'd put a kudos up here for everyone to see. I'm looking forward to seeing more! Great work!
     
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  16. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    Thank you so so much! I love seeing people appreciate my writing. <3
     
  17. A.Auditore

    A.Auditore maybe...

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    image.jpg

    i dont know what to really say besides :eek: it's been awhile since I sat down and read something to the end (though I know there will be more) and i truly enjoyed reading your fanfic (my character and your character should be <3ers ;) just think it over ) im excited to see more in the future <3 it kitty! <3s it
     
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  18. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    naww.. thank you so much.. oh Yeah they totally would be;) .. haha. thanks for the <3.
    more to come.
     
  19. A.Auditore

    A.Auditore maybe...

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    hey I'm just saying two busty red head ladies... they could have all of skyrim in their hands ;)
     
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  20. shadowkitty

    shadowkitty Mistress of Shadows

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    CHAPTER SEVENTY NINE: AZARIL

    The events that followed Wyldfyre’s fit could only be described as chaotic. After the Dragon had severed its connection with her mind, Wyldfyre had recovered quickly and she and Farkas had drawn their weapons. Wyldfyre clung to the wooden crossbow that Eorlund had made for her. She had lost her Dwarven crossbow in Sovngarde and Eorlund had done his best to replicate it. This one Wyldfyre wielded now was a prototype she was meant to be trying out before he smithed one in metal. As the Dragon flew over their heads both of the horses reared and bolted down the track, taking their packs of food and bedrolls with them.

    “By the Maker!” Wyldfyre swore. It was going to be near on impossible finding the horses later. She was scanning the sky when she was suddenly hit by an electric bolt that sent her reeling backwards.

    “False Dragonborn!” came a shout down the track from the direction their horses had just run. Wyldfyre looked to see three of the Miraak cultists running towards them.

    “Are you serious?” Farkas swore, just as the dragon made another pass. Seeing fresh humans to terrorise, it shouted a great fireball at the robed men. The cultists were thrown in all directions as the fire collided with the closest one, engulfing him in flame that incinerated him. Everyone watched with revolt as the man screamed and practically melted there on the spot.

    “We are a little busy right now as you can see!” Wyldfyre shouted down to the remaining fanatics. They too scanned the sky, their hands glowing with readied electricity; having decided that the dragon was the more imminent of threats. Wyldfyre and Farkas along with the two cultists fought the dragon, hitting it with crossbow bolts, and electricity. Another of the cultists met his end with a snap of the dragon’s great teeth. The remaining one, having lost his mask, fought on, side by side with the two Companions. Wyldfyre noticed that he watched her closely and had a look of confusion on his face. She had abandoned her crossbow and was now using her shouts at the dragon.

    Wyldfyre was shocked to discover her shouts were more powerful than before she defeated Alduin. Her frost shout was now a deadly ice storm that froze everything in its path, shattering plants and small trees with the bitterly frigid winds. It worked well on the fire dragon and after she used the Dragonrend shout on it, causing it to crash to the ground; she used her ice shout to freeze it in place so that they could then attack it with their swords. The dragon was quite large and powerful though and fought with the ferocity of an animal making a last ditch effort to save itself. Farkas was thrown through the air by its thrashing tail and Wyldfyre gripped her sword and mounted his neck, bringing the blade down through its thick skull.

    Both Farkas and the remaining cultist stood and watched in wonder as the dragon’s soul filled Wyldfyre in a dazzling display of lights. When the rushing sounds and red haze faded from her mind Wyldfyre looked over and realised that there was still one cultist left, she moved towards him, her sword dripping with the dragon’s hot blood.

    “No wait!” the dunmer dropped to his knees holding up his hands in surrender. “I have been a fool! I see that now you are the true Dragonborn!” Wyldfyre stayed her hand as Farkas moved behind the dunmer, waiting to see if it were just a ruse.

    “What are you saying? Speak!” she menaced him with her blade. The dunmer eyed the bloody steal.

    “It is I who has been deceived, brainwashed into believing that Miraak was the only Dragonborn. I see from what just happened now that I was wrong to believe. Please, my Lady, please let me make it up to you? Let me follow you and witness how the true and only Dragonborn lives!” he looked up at her with such earnest; Wyldfyre was starting to feel sorry for him.

    “You were trying to kill her not half an hour ago” Farkas glared down at him. The dunmer hung his head in shame.

    “I know and I am deeply sorry. I followed blindly the teachings of the Dragon Cultists, I knew only what they drilled into my head.”

    “And now you have suddenly changed your mind? Why should we believe you?” Farkas nudged him with his boot.

    “I renounce them!” the dunmer cried fervently, he stood and peeled off his cultists robes, flinging them away from him. “I renounce Miraak, and their teachings. I have never even seen Miraak. To be honest, I was starting to doubt myself. I... I was not a true believer”

    “Then why try to kill me?” Wyldfyre asked the young dark elf. He was dressed now in plain leather armour; a sword was strapped to his side, previously concealed by the robes.

    “Nothing I can say will ever make you know how sorry I am. Please let me follow you. I will do anything for you. Fight for you, vouch for you. I can heal you and..”

    “Steady on there” Farkas stepped forward, laying a hand on Wyldfyre’s arm. “She’s my wife” The dunmer looked surprised for a second, and then smiled.

    “Then my gratitude and respect flow to you as well. Husband to the Dragonborn” he did a half bow, causing Farkas to look slightly embarrassed.

    “Don’t do that” he said awkwardly. Wyldfyre grinned.

    “What is your name?” she asked him.

    “My Lady, my name is Azaril. May I have the honour of knowing yours?” he said rather formally.

    “I am Wyldfyre and this is Farkas”

    “It is a great pleasure to know you both” he bowed again.

    “You don’t have to do that” she said to him and he straightened up. He grinned at them both. The three stood there for an awkward moment before Wyldfyre spoke.

    “Azaril, while I don’t mind you coming with us, you must know this. We are Members of the Companions Guild and are currently on a dangerous mission. I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger for something that doesn’t really concern you.”

    “It would be an honour to accompany you” he said.

    “Don’t you have family to return to?”

    “No” his face grew dark “My family turned their backs on me when I became a Dragon Cultist. I...don’t know where they are now. When I left they were leaving the Island, and going back to the mainland.” Wyldfyre had no idea what he meant.

    “Oh” she turned to Farkas “What do you think?”

    “I don’t like it” Farkas said bluntly “We don’t know him and this is..” he lowered his voice “Circle business. What if something happens and one of needs to..you know.. change?”

    “Excuse me My Lady” Azaril spoke up “If I could put your mind at ease. If you are a member of the Circle then I know what you are”

    “You what?” Wyldfyre and Farkas both exclaimed. Azaril nodded quickly.

    “I know you are Werewolves. The Dragon Cult knows everything” he shrugged and gave a funny half chuckle. Wyldfyre and Farkas exchanged a glance. It’s up to you, Farkas said to her.

    “All right then” Wyldfyre then said slowly. “Um, well, in that case I guess you can come” she looked to Farkas who shrugged with indifference then rolled his eyes as the young dunmer clapped his hands excitedly.

    “Excellent! You won’t be sorry, I promise you!” he cried. He turned and suddenly sprinted down the road “I’ll go find your horses!” he yelled over his shoulder. Wyldfyre watched his rapidly fading from.

    “What an odd elf” she shook her head.

    “I can’t believe you let him win you over so quickly” Farkas commented as they walked down the path after the elf.

    “He didn’t win me over Farkas” she said frowning with annoyance “I just felt a little sorry for him, who knows what those Cultists drummed into him”

    “Meanwhile he could slit our throats in our sleep”

    “Nonsense! When was the last time someone could sneak up on you?” Farkas thought about it. He had no answer. “Precisely. He’ll be fine. And if I am wrong you can be the first to say I told you so” she grinned at him. He swatted her playfully on the behind.

    “I don’t like the way he looks at you” he said a little grumpily, watching as the young dunmer ran to a fro chasing the still skittish horses.

    “Like how?”

    “Like he wants to tear your clothes off”. Wyldfyre let out a peel of laughter.

    “He doesn’t look at me like that! I think if anything he is a little star struck.. which is completely embarrassing, but he will get over that I am sure, after he has known me for a while..” she laughed again.

    “I disagree.” Farkas slid a hand over her back. “The more people get to know you the more they fall head over heels for you. That poor sop will be just like everyone else”

    “Nonsense!” she said again and quickened her pace, looking for her horse.


    With the horses re-captured and Azaril sharing Wyldfyre’s saddle they made excellent time and arrived at their destination that afternoon. They set up camp behind a rise so they were not seen from the entrance of Lost Knife Cave. After a quick scout they readied themselves and entered the vast cave system. They encountered a few Silverhand members along the way and Azaril proved himself to be a useful addition to their small party. Wyldfyre and Farkas did not need to change into their Were forms and they successfully killed the Silverhand lieutenant and found the plans they were looking for. It revealed the location of the Silverhand’s chief leader.

    “This is the break we’ve been looking for” Farkas said as they poured over the map. “We need to get this to Jorrvaskr straight away.”

    The next day saw them back at the Lake house. Farkas rode straight through to Whiterun. Wyldfyre and Azaril stayed behind at the house and Wyldfyre introduced the elf to Wilhelm. She left the elf in the hands of the steward while she went down to the cellar to bathe. Later that evening she revealed her real reasons for staying behind.

    “I thought it unusual you didn’t go with Farkas straight back to Whiterun” Wilhelm nodded.

    “I hate keeping the truth from him, but I can’t help it. Kodlak forbade me” She said as they sat at the table eating their evening meal. Azaril was attacking his rabbit and vegetable stew with gusto. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning” the Elf looked up and smiled at her adoringly.

    “Azaril” Wyldfyre said “Feel free to choose any bed in the upstairs wing on the left. It’s yours for however long you wish”

    “Thank you my Lady” he smiled.

    “Oh and you really don’t have to call me that. Wyldfyre is just fine” she smiled back.

    “Oh I couldn’t possibly” he exclaimed. “It’s not fitting I call the Dragonborn by her name. It’s disrespectful” he said sagely. He stood and took his bowl into the kitchen, presumably to get himself another helping of rabbit stew. Wilhelm raised his eyebrows.

    “You have yourself a fan” he said quietly to her, chuckling. Wyldfyre glared at him half heartedly. She was a little worried at the elf being seemingly totally devoted to her, but in truth she was glad to have him with her when she was about to face five dangerous Hagravens.

    The next morning they made their way west along Lake Ilinalta before heading up into the mountain for the cave Kodlak described to her. It took them the better part of the morning on horseback; Azaril chatting almost the entire way. Wyldfyre learned about his life as a youngling on Solstheim and his family. She started to grow even sadder for him when he described the horrible childhood he had had. He quite freely told her of the beatings he would receive on a daily basis at the hands of his father. His older sister Nevin, left when she was a teenager, leaving Azaril to deal with their father alone. She also learnt that despite his young appearance, he was actually almost fifty years old.

    The cave that contained the Glenmoril Coven had an unassuming entrance and they would have missed it had it not of been for the rather grotesque wooden heads of dead sprigins mounted on sticks that adorned either side of the cave opening. Also, one very alert witch patrolled the outside area. Wyldfyre and Azaril dealt with the witch as quickly as they could before entering the dark cave. Inside they encountered the Hagravens of Glenmoril Coven. Hideous creatures, half woman half bird, they stalked back and forth in their individual caverns, hunched and haggard. What they lacked in looks they made up for in their mastery of magic and Wyldfyre and Azaril were both pushed to their limits. Eventually Wyldfyre had two sacks full of Hag heads and the two dragged the sacks back to the surface.

    “Eck! Hideous creatures!” Azaril shuddered once they were back out under open sky. Wyldfyre nodded in agreement and they tied the sacks to their horses and rode back to the Lake House. As Wyldfyre drew closer to the house she grew more and more uneasy. Azaril noticed her mood change.

    “What is it My Lady?” he asked, peering at her through the moonlight.

    “I’m not sure” she shook her head, the feeling of unease grabbing at her insides “Something is wrong. Back in Whiterun. Azaril, are you up for a hard ride? I think I need to get back there in a hurry.”

    “Lead on My Lady”. Wyldfyre kicked her horse into a dead run. They arrived at the Whiterun stables and left their horses in charge of the stable boy and ran through the streets of Whiterun. Whispers Wyldfyre caught along the way pointed to an attack on Jorrvaskr and Wyldfyre began to panic. She could hear a jumbled mixture of her Circle family members inside her mind but nothing made any sense. Wyldfyre took the stairs to the Gildergreen square three at a time, not caring if anyone saw the inhuman act. She could see Companions standing guard at the steps leading to the mead hall; two bodies lying on the ground. Wyldfyre pulled up.

    “What happened?” she asked Torvar.

    “Silverhand attacked the Hall...” Wyldfyre ran up the stairs before she heard any more. She burst through the doors to find chaos inside. Athis was lying injured or dead on the floor. Ria was sporting a terrible wound to her arm, and bodies of fallen Silverhand members lay everywhere. Vilkas strode up to her, a look of anger on his face.

    “Where have you been?” he demanded. But Wyldfyre was searching for Farkas.

    “Farkas, where is he?” she asked him.

    “He is down in the dorms, he was injured in the attack.” Wyldfyre made to go to her husband but Vilkas stopped her. “Wyldfyre, Kodlak...he..” he suddenly sobbed which alarmed Wyldfyre. She searched the room desperately before her eyes settled upon Aela and Aiden kneeling over a body, rocking back and forth in mourning. She rushed over to the two, desperately trying to not believe the scene she was witnessing. She peered down at the body, shaking her head in horror. It was Kodlak. Wyldfyre’s heart gave a sudden lurch and she stood frozen until she felt Farkas’s mind searching for her. She turned and ran for the dorm calling out his name as she raced along the hallways, finally finding him sitting on their bed being tended by Tilma who stood back as Wyldfyre burst into the room and threw herself on him.

    “Farkas” she cried as they rocked together in their grief, while the maid waited patiently. Wyldfyre kissed Farkas desperately, holding his face.

    “I couldn’t hear you” she sobbed “I...”

    “I’m all right Love” he soothed her, tears also running down his face. “Kodlak...”

    “I know, I saw him” she cried. “I should have been here!”

    “There was nothing you could have done” he said then, trying to calm them both down. “The Old man fought bravely, he saved us all.”

    “Oh Farkas” Wyldfyre sobbed “I can’t believe he’s gone! Not Kodlak” It was then she remembered that Farkas himself had been injured and she moved off him, searching him for wounds. He took her hands and held them.

    “Let Tilma do her work” he said to her. The maid moved back in and with tears in her old eyes, set about to healing the terrible wound on Farkas’s leg. Farkas was too injured to walk and Wyldfyre left him and went back upstairs. They had moved Kodlak’s body to rest in state in the Underforge and the rest of the able bodied Companions were cleaning up the Hall. Athis and Ria were being tended to by Tilma and healers of the Temple of Kynareth. Wyldfyre wondered through the hall as if in a dream. She hugged Aela and Aiden who were both red-eyed and haggard with grief. As Wyldfyre moved through the hall a burning rage began to build up inside her. She left the Hall to find Vilkas hacking away at a practice dummy with reckless abandon.

    “Brother” she stilled his arm “You will blunt your sword.”

    “I don’t care!” he yelled and hacked at the dummy again.

    “What would Kodlak say?” she said then sternly. Vilkas dropped his arm and hung his head, taking in a shuddering breath.

    “You are right” he said.

    “I don’t know about you but my sword yearns for blood” she said in a deadly voice as Vilkas looked up at her and smiled maliciously “Silverhand blood”. They both turned and walked inside the Hall. As Wyldfyre passed through the room she spied Azaril standing to the side, looking lost. Wyldfyre altered her course and walked over to him.

    “I’m sorry your introduction to the Companions did not go as planned” she said to him. He took her arm, his eyes wide with concern.

    “My Lady, I am so dreadfully sorry for your loss.” He looked at her “You are going after them, aren’t you?”. Wyldfyre nodded.

    “Where I am going, you can not come with me” she said to him sternly.

    “I understand My Lady. I will remain here and try to make myself useful until you return victorious”. Wyldfyre nodded and left, joining Vilkas at the front door to the Hall.


    “Let’s do this” she said to him as they both left Jorrvaskr with a steely resolve.
     
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  21. Destiny

    Destiny The Fox

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    This is a breathtaking and immersive Fan-Fic *.* I had been reading these for a few days and I am eagerly waiting for the rest! You have a genuine talent in writing. Congratulations! :beermug: :D

    Στάλθηκε από το ST15i μου χρησιμοποιώντας Tapatalk 2
     
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