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]

In The Arms of the Elder’s Gleam

Kirin and Lydia stayed in High Hrothgar for several days to rest up. Lydia’s hearing recovered slowly, while her charge learned more about the Way of the Voice, and conversed with Arngeir on a great many subjects. He was thirsty for knowledge and always seeking their advice on what to do about the dragon souls he absorbed. It wasn’t long before his meditation reflected in on what he sought – the knowledge and understanding of the words Kirin had learned from the walls at Eldersblood Peak and Ustengrav.

Dawn came on the morning of their departure, as Arngeir gave Kirin one last parting word.

“Breath and focus.”
And so hey set back out to scale down the mountain once more. Having made the trip a number of times now, they were much more adept at the climb, and soon descended down into Ivarstead, across the bridge and east out of town.

Eldergleam Sanctuary was their destination, followed by Kynesgrove. Retrieving the tree sap for Danica was more important to Kirin than rendezvousing with Delphine for her dragon witch-hunt. The Greybeards had provided them with a new map they drew up from their lofty perch on the mountain, and it was much more detailed than the one Kirin had from his youth. It depicted a nice path down from The Rift, into the lowland hot springs of Eastmarch, where the sanctuary lie.
“Have you ever been to Eldergleam, Kirin?” asked Lydia.

“No, I wasn’t even aware of it. I knew of the Gildergreen in Whiterun, but when I left ten years ago, it was still living. I had no idea it was cutting from a much older tree. What about you?”

“I visited many years ago, with Jornir.”

“Oh? You haven’t mentioned him before – was he a friend?”

“Yes and no,” she replied, solemnly. “Jornir was my previous charge, and the last Thane of Whiterun. He was a brave warrior and an excellent mentor. But he passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Kirin. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “If he was as honorable as you say, then he surely drinks in Sovngarde with Shor.”

“I’d like to think so, because he did not die an honorable death. Instead he got piss-drunk and fell off of the Jarl’s balcony in Dragonsreach. So you’ll forgive me if I frown at the sight of you draining tankards of mead.”

Lydia didn’t say anything after that and neither did Kirin. An understanding had passed between them, and they both had plenty to think about while they trekked across the hot springs.

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Several hours later, they sat resting outside the entrance to Eldergleam Sanctuary. Passing a quick meal between themselves, they chatted aimlessly about the past and what lie ahead. Being so close to Kynesgrove, Kirin thought it necessary to head there next, to meet Delphine. Windhelm wasn’t much further, and such a large city no doubt had a carriage service in case they needed to hightail it somewhere else. Once they finished eating, they set about repacking everything before heading into the cave mouth.

“Any idea what we’ll find in here, Lydia?”

“Only a large tree and some worshipers of Kyne. This is a peaceful place of nature – nothing more, and nothing less.”

“Good. I could use a break from all the excitement we seem to find.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” She motioned to the cave with her hand, “After you, my Thane.”

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Lydia was absolutely correct when she told Kirin that it was a peaceful place of worship. The sanctuary was idyllic and serene like nothing he’d ever seen before, and Kyne’s radiance flowed through every corner of the immense open-air cavern. A winding path lead up to the interior summit where the massively ancient Eldergleam tree grew from the bones of the earth. The sacred tree dwarfed any other that Kirin had ever laid eyes on, including the old trees of the southern Blackwood.

They began the short climb up to it, stopping talk to the pilgrims that lay among the grassy slopes and babbling streams of pure, clear water. All were giddy and eager to bless the fine day and the beautiful sanctuary they found themselves in. Towards the top of the winding path, though, they encountered their first obstruction.

Huge roots from the Eldergleam had worked their way out of the earthen soil, stretching their way across the only pathway up to the tree’s base. Unsure of what to do, Kirin reluctantly unsheathed Nettlenbane from his belt, and raised it for a strike.

“Are you sure about that?” said Lydia. “Attacking the tree of your matron doesn’t seem like a smart move.”

“Aye. But what else can we do?”

He hesitated before lowering the blade on the root, but a gentle breeze blew past that ruffled his hair and gave him all the encouragement he needed. Slashing downwards gently, Kirin nicked the root as slightly as he could, and to his and Lydia’s utter surprise, it shook loose and withdrew from the path. Continuing up, he repeated the action twice more, until they were at the summit, face to trunk with the oldest living tree on Nirn.

They stared up at it for a few moments, entranced with its great beauty, before the screeching call of a hawk rang throughout the caverns. Right before their eyes, the same great brown hawk that Kirin met in The Great Forest of Cyrodiil alighted down from the upper branches of Eldergleam and landed on the ground before them.