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]

The Road Less Traveled

Lydia waited impatiently in the dining hall of Elysium Estate, while Kirin unpacked his belongings and accustomed himself to the various amenities it offered. A couple hours later, he returned to the main hall, and poured himself a mead before joining her at the table.

“Go ahead and ask away, Lydia. Before you boil over!” Kirin chuckled.

“When were you going to tell me just how entwined you are with Kyne? Following her as a patron is one thing, but actively communing with A GODDESS is something else entirely, Kirin.”

“First of all, thank you for not calling me Thane,” said Kirin.

At that remark, Lydia shot him a look of daggers.

“Second – and this is important – I had to know I could trust you. I would attract all sorts of attention, wanted or not if I paraded around as her champion.”
“Champion! You’re not serious – are you?”

“Aye. That I am.” Kirin nodded, and then began to tell her of his encounter with the hawk in The Great Forest, and everything that led up to this point. By the time he reached the end, Lydia was suitably astonished.

“My word, Kirin – do you realize how bless you are? The Divines speaking to worthy people at their shrines is one thing, but to actually speak to an avatar of Kyne? I’d be surprised if such a thing has ever happened before.”

“I know, Lydia,” replied Kirin. “Which is why it’s something I do not share around. Now get yourself settled in for the rest of the day. Tomorrow we head back to town, but for now I will be out back, putting together some new gear at the forge.”

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Dawn broke as Kirin and Lydia walked quickly back to Whiterun, bound for the Temple of Kynareth. He had visited the temple on his first arrival to Whiterun for a quick prayer, but the priestess hadn’t been there at the time. Today, though, they found Danica healing a poor soul with a terrible injury from some needless skirmish out in the wilds.

Once she finished her incantation, Kirin approached her in conversation. They talked quietly while Lydia kept an eye on the door. It wasn’t long before Kirin accepted her request, and motioned for her to join him as they headed back outside.

“Did she have something for you, Kirin?”

Kirin nodded, “She did – but it will not be easy. We are tasked with restoring the Gildegreen to its former glory and our first step involves finding a specific dagger.”

“Well that doesn’t seem so bad,” said Lydia.

“No? You might find that opinion to be untrue, once we try to take Nettlebane from the Hagravens.”

“Hags? Oh dear…”

“My thoughts exactly.”

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The oppressive blackness of a cloudy night filled the air around the two friends, as they sat around a small campfire on the outskirts of Ivarstead. The journey there had been long and exciting, leading to a quiet dinner under the lofty fir trees at the mountain’s feet. The flames danced merrily as Kirin and Lydia each sat in their own thoughts, reflecting on was to come.

“We should turn in for the night, Lydia. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and the path up the mountain is no easy feat.”

“Have you made the climb before, Kirin?”

He nodded, “It was the last thing I did before departing for Cyrodiil. Father had always wanted to make the trip together, but he took ill when I was seventeen. After he passed, I felt it my duty to make the climb in his honor. I did not enter the monastery or even knock on its doors, but I did pray to Shor to allow Kroval safe passage to Sovngarde.”

“You still miss him, don’t you?” asked Lydia.

“Yes, of course. It’s been nigh on ten years, but it feels like only yesterday that we laid him to rest in the marshes of Morthal.”

“Morthal? You’re from Hjaalmarch? I didn’t know that about you.”

“And for good reason. I had a falling out with the Jarl before I left. I don’t even know if I’m welcome there anymore,” said Kirin.

“Well, things are different now, no? Soon enough rumors will spread of the coming of the Dragonborn, and you’ll be recognized everywhere.”

“I suppose so…but we may be getting ahead of ourselves. Only Balgruuf and some guards have given me that title. We need to see the Greybeards before we jump to any conclusions.”

And with that, Kirin stood and rolled out his bedroll before crawling into it, and gazing up at the sky. Lydia rolled out hers, as well, and nestled down inside it. She was soon fast asleep, leaving Kirin to lie in thought under the dark clouds. Feeling himself drifting off, he said a quick prayer to Kyne before he closed his eyes.

Once he finished, a swift breeze rolled across Skyrim, pushing the clouds out over the horizon and leaving behind the bright twinkling stars of Mundus. Kirin smiled, and thanked Kyne aloud before falling asleep.

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They hadn’t climbed very far before Kirin and Lydia both wished they were laying warm in their bedrolls again. The wind howled around the mountainside, blowing snow and ice around like icy pellets and wolves came bounding out of the gales, hungry for food. Stopping to rest an altar high on the southwestern slopes, they took stock of their food and water before heading back into the freezing winds.

It was nearly sundown before the storms finally subsided, leaving them with a clear path to High Hrothgar. Now they needed only to worry about whatever manner of creature dwells in the smattering of tree groves and rock outcroppings that remained ahead of them. After climbing well into the evening, they noticed that the wolf attacks seem to have dropped off entirely. Lydia was pleased with that, but Kirin suspected something worse.

And he was proven right when a hulking, snow-white Frost Troll leaped down from a stone shelf and charged them with alarming speed. The beast had the element of surprise in its favor, but once Kirin and Lydia regained their footing, they made short work of it. Attacking and feinting from both sides, the troll was soon overwhelmed and fell to its knees after Kirin severed a tendon in the back of its leg. Lydia finished it off with a quick thrust up under its jaw, and they both stumbled over to sit down under the stone ledge for a breather.

“What do you say, Lyds…do we camp out here for the night or carry on up? We are on the western slope, which means the monastery isn’t far off now.”

“Let’s continue on. It’s damn cold out here.”

Getting to their feet after a drink from the waterskins, they trudged on once more. Midnight approached as they finally climbed the final steps up to the entrance to High Hrothgar. Pushing the great wooden doors open, Kirin and Lydia stumbled inside, to find a robed figure walking towards them.

“So…a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age.”