The Call of the Wind, Children of Kyne, Volume I Options

[Kane]

I just finished up the long volume II of this series, so I thought I'd start posting them both here. This entry is one of my first real stabs at writing out a tale and one of only a couple I ever finished. The dialogue is a little stilted and the chapters are short (needed more practice) so it isn't a long read. If you are interested in reading it, I hope you enjoy! (PS, I'm too lazy to proofread this one and I wrote in 2018, so if there are any spelling or grammar errors, I apologize in advance!)



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Prologue

The morning dew lay gleaming on the lush, green undergrowth of Cyrodiil’s Great Forest as the morning sun shined through the branches of its lofty trees. Deep in the heart of the woodlands, sat a small clearing and at its center lie a large rock, covered in silky green moss. Here upon this stone, sat an impressively large brown hawk - it looked far out of place among the other birds of the province, but it was not without purpose. Sitting as still as the unmoving stone beneath it, a wanderer could have mistaken it for a small statue to some long forgotten god.
Nestling its head into her wing feathers, she waited impassively for her prey. Soon thereafter, a crashing could be heard in the forests nearby. Quite suddenly, a pale, sickly looking Colovian emerged from the dense brush and scampered right through the clearing without so much as a glance at the large hawk.

Craning her neck, she listened for the pursuer she was expecting.

And sure enough, the gentle footsteps of a practiced stalker could be heard approaching the clearing, following the rampant destruction of the woodland left in the wake of the panicked, clumsy runner. The hawk lifted her head and waited for this new, but nonetheless expected visitor.

Ah, I see this predator is much too clever to wander into a forest clearing. The professional that he is knows to avoid such a thing, as it is ripe for ambush. Perhaps a little encouragement is needed…

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The mercenary did not like what he saw ahead. Peering through the bramble, he intensely surveyed the clearing, looking for any sign of an ambush. The vampire he pursued had thus far been crashing through the forest like an ogre, but that may have been a ruse. Vampires, he had always thought, were usually much cleverer than this oaf was.

Hesitating outside the clearing was wasting time, but his instincts were kicked into overdrive as he approached it. Long ago he learned to trust those instincts, and many times they had been the difference between life and death. So there he sat, eyes darting around the forest opening, searching intently for signs of danger.

Quite suddenly, the once calm morning changed as a brisk northern wind began to flow through the woods, rustling the treetops and bringing a slight chill to the air. Our mercenary barely noticed the change in clime, until he heard the whispers on the wind. Startled, he relaxed his eyes, and instead strained his ears to the wind, where he swore a voice had whispered to him. The breeze fluttered once more, and this time he was positive…his name was carried gently on the wind.

Kirin...approach my child. Follow your instincts…and my voice…

Standing up nervously, he shouldered his composite bow, and walked boldly into the clearing. To his utter surprise, the hawk he’d mistaken for a statue hewn above the boulder stretched its impressive wings, and spoke to him with an undoubtedly feminine voice.

“It is time for you to return home, my child. Skyrim awaits you, and your destiny has come. Left behind will be your days of mercenary work and feeble pleasures. They matter not now, and only what you accomplish next will be of any consequence.”

This was unexpected, and temporarily froze Kirin, as a million thoughts raced through his mind. He settled on only one, though.

“And if I refuse?”

“It will matter not. The aspect of destiny is inescapable, and utterly final. Try as you might, it will simply catch up to you later, at a time when you may have less choice in its subtleties. Heed my words, and I promise you will not regret the choice to follow them.”

Kirin pondered on her words once more, and quickly realized what he was dealing with. One should not refuse the finality of the divines… He removed his helmet, and knelt on the grass before the large northern hawk.

“Lady Kyne, I see the wisdom in your words, and I pledge myself and my service to you.”

“Very well, young Kirin. Your time in Cyrodiil is at an end. Return to your fellow brothers and sisters of Skyrim, and your true journey shall begin in earnest.”

She then spread her wings once more, and took to the skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.skies above Tamriel, flying ever northwards.

This post has been edited by Kane: Dec 10 2024, 03:08 PM

[Kane]

Destiny Rising

The sun was beginning to set as Kirin, Irileth, and a detachment of guards jogged passed the Whiterun stables, turning onto the western road. Off in the distance, the Western Watchtower stood alone on the tundra, plumes of smoke rising from within and all around it. A sense of foreboding fell upon the small force, as they upped the pace towards the keep.
Just down the road from Whiterun, they passed a large house that appeared to be devoid of life. Kirin made a mental note to investigate it on the way back to town. ‘That is…if I survive whatever lies ahead.’

The crew stopped a small distance away from the ruined tower to survey the scene. There were still a few guards left around the keep, but it was badly damaged in the attack. Standing back up, they made their way towards the tower, and were soon spotted by a guard standing near the doorway.
He began to yell about the dragon still being nearby, but was cut short by a distant roar.

“Shor’s bones – here it comes again!”

What followed next was the single most harrowing experience of Kirin’s life. Alongside Irileth and handful of guards, they battled with the winged menace for nearly an hour. Arrows cut through the air and weapons clashed, as they whittled away at the stout hide of the immense beast. Finally the dragon landed, allowing them to rush it with sword, axe, and hammer – all swinging endlessly at its thick scales.

The defenders were quickly losing stamina, and after what seemed like forever, the dragon finally let out a dying roar, as Kirin’s blade pierced it’s underside with a killing blow. They all backed up hurriedly, trying to avoid its death throes, when, to their wonder, the great beast became engulfed in flame.

Kirin stood front and center, sword drawn in anticipation for whatever may come next. But he was not ready for the life force that came rushing out of the dragon, and absorbed itself directly into his own. The feeling was euphoric, as the knowledge and power of the dragon, Mirmulnir, flowed through Kirin’s mind and blood. Suddenly, the ancient power that he learned in Bleak Falls Barrow made complete sense, and he lifted his head to the sky and shouted a single word that echoed across the vast tundra, followed by a crack of thunder.

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The guards had been suitably impressed by Kirin’s powerful shout, but Irileth less so. She was a touch read, but Kirin didn’t mind it – she was a good ally to have.
Masser and Secunda had long since risen and shined brightly down upon him as he slowly headed back east to Whiterun. The empty house would have to wait for later…he had much to tell Balgruuf and more than anything else, Kirin just wanted to sleep. And maybe have a stout mead beforehand.

But he had survived his first dragon encounter, and that was all that mattered to him. The moment it was all over, he quickly thanked Kyne – before the guards started to awkwardly stare. What he didn’t expect, though, was for the elation of power to wear off so quickly… The rush of energy culminating in his Shout wore off fast, leaving Kirin to ponder whether or not his newfound ability was a good thing. It had its advantages, but he was also aware that his soul was no longer just his own. The life of knowledge and experience he absorbed from Mirmulnir also came with sorrow and fear.

The dragon never expected to be killed, and his waning moments were filled with dread. Kirin wouldl never forget that feeling, but his thoughts were cut short when a thunderous sound raced across Skyrim, and shook the very ground beneath his feet.

“DO-VAH-KIIN.”

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Dragonborn. That is what Kirin came to be known as in the peaceful town of Whiterun. As far as the people of the city were concerned, it fit nicely with his new title of Thane. The Bannered Mare was raucous that night, as everyone in town drank and cheered and sung about the Battle of the Western Watch and the coming of The Dragonborn.

Eventually Kirin managed to slip away with a mug of mead, and headed up to his loft room for well-deserved slumber. Not even the continuous clamor of the party below was enough to keep him awake, and he fell asleep quickly, while his new friend Lydia nodding off in the chair nearby.