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]

Under an Ancient Sun

By the time Kirin and Lydia left Whitreun City, the sun had fully risen over the vast plains. The warmth from its rays beamed down over them giving a false sense of comfort from the chill air of the northern province. It also meant that any idea of hunting was out of the question, since any prey would sense them a long ways off on this clear summer day.

They made good time, though, since most of the tundra predators were also bedded down for the day. So far, only a hulking tundra spider had given them any trouble, but that trouble was well worth it – their venom was rare and made an excellent poison when applied to a weapon. Mid-afternoon approached, as Kirin guided them past the ruins of Silent Moon and continued westward.

This intrigued Lydia, since conventional wisdom was to take the northern path through Labyrinthian towards Hjaalmarch.

“Where in the name of Talos are you taking us, Kirin? The pass through Labyrinthian is back that way.”

“And it’s also filled with Frost Trolls. Trust me – as someone who grew up in Morthal, I know the best ways in and out. The route we are taking may be a bit longer, but it is substantially safer.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Lydia.

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Kirin barely heard Lydia shouting at him over the roar of the dragon and the fire it cascaded down upon them.

“What was that about a safer route!”

Even in the midst of battle, Kirin couldn’t help but laugh. At least she was livening up from the always serious demeanor she carried out of Dragonsreach.

“You’ll note that I said ‘substantially’ – not completely!”

“I’ll remember that the next time we take a detour!”

The dragon continued its assault on the grassy slope, flying to and fro and all the while spitting its powerful Thu’um at the two Nords below it. Arrows whistled through the air, some hitting their mark and others sailing off through the trees. For over an hour this went on, until the dragon finally landed with an earth-shaking thud as the Kirin and Lydia rushed in from two sides to hack away at its scaly hide.

Roaring its head back in pain, it eventually let out a final shudder before collapsing to the ground and engulfing in flames. Kirin got down on one knee in preparation for the onslaught of life force that issued forth from ancient beast, flooding his body and soul. The world began to go dark, before he felt the sturdy grip of Lydia’s hand on his shoulder, bringing Nirn back into focus.
Getting shakily to his feet, sheathed his blade and moved to sit down on the nearest stump.

“You sure weren’t kidding around when you said the Greybeards have no idea what you go through is like. Even I could feel the power radiating of its dissipating body – and you looked to be
about a thousand miles away while it hit you.”

Kirin nodded. “I don’t think it is something I’ll ever get used to either.”

“I would be more concerned if you did get used to it,” said Lydia. “Kyne chose you for a reason, and your empathy towards the dragons may be exactly why.”

“I suppose that’s possible. But don’t forget…Akatosh also has a hand in this matter.”

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The journey after that event was significantly less intense. After scaling Eldersblood Peak and making sure the dragon’s roost was empty, they began their descent down the other side of the mountain, towards Morthal. Along the way, Kirin reflected on the Word of Power they found on the half-moon wall at the mountaintop. It called to him just the way the wall in Bleak Falls Barrow had, and left only a partial understanding of its meaning imprinted in his mind.

Following the Way of the Voice would be somewhat necessary, it seemed. He’d have to learn to understand these partial words by mediating, or searching the memories of slain dragons. Neither idea appealed to him, so for now he put it from his mind and turned to the task at hand.

“I don’t want to linger in Morthal. I have no doubt that Igrod will recognize me, and that will only cause trouble.”

Lydia nodded in agreement, “Isn’t she some kind of mystic, though? Even down in Whiterun we heard rumors of her…eccentricities.”

“She is a gifted Seer, yes. All the more reason to move through quickly and before she picks up on me.”

Luckily, time was on their side, and it was well after dark when they approached the upper gate of Morthal. The moons were directly overhead as they approached their midnight zenith in the night sky, and all was quiet in the town, save for the patrolling guards. They heeded the travelers not, as Kirin and Lydia moved quickly though the small village and across the old stone bridge, an up passed the mill.

Once they were certain the made it through without attracting attention, they made camp on a stretch of marsh-land. This time however, they took turns on watch throughout the night.