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]

A Lofty Goal

Sky Haven Temple is nestled on a low mountain-top in the central Reach, ideally situated out of harm’s way, and shrouded by the low level clouds that settle throughout the valleys and dales. Its unique Akaviri architecture separated it nicely from the surround Nordic barrows, yet there was still echoes of Skyrim through ought the complex. Alduin’s Wall sat in the Great Hall, as the focal point of the entire temple.

It was a wonderfully carved bas relief, depicting the prophecy of Alduin, and the Blades that played their part – up until Kirin’s began. Even he must admit that it was a little nerve-wracking to see himself portrayed an ancient prophecy about the defeat of the World Eater. He never envisioned that he would grow up to become a challenger to a God.
Esbern, however, was in his element as he strode through the halls, taking in all the history of the once great Blades stronghold. Even Delphine was happy with the locale, and began dreaming up plans of rebuilding the Blades.

Kirin and Lydia, though, were enjoying a rest and meal out in the courtyard that overlooked the Karth River far below.

“So, what do you think of all this, my Thane?”

“I think that I rather do not like having my destiny pre-ordained. If it were not for Kyne guiding me on this journey, I would probably be lost and overwhelmed,” said Kirin. “Her loving support and you friendship mean a lot to me in these trying times.”

Lydia blushed behind the mug of wine raised to her mouth.

“Your words are kind, Kirin, but as your Housecarl I have only done my duty as best I can.

“Nonsense. You stopped being my Housecarl long ago, and it’s no more than an empty title at this point.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Kirin cut her off.

“You know it to be true, Lydia.”

Setting down her tankard, she didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Kirin searched her features for any signs of emotion, but Lydia’s face remained resolute. I should remember to avoid playing any betting games with her, thought Kirin.

After a score of minutes, Lydia finally broker her silence on the matter.

“It means a great deal to me that you think so highly of me, Kirin, and that you consider me a friend above all else. But, I cannot be both friend and Housecarl to you – my loyalty and the oath I swore to protect you is too deeply rooted in honor. As a Nord, it would be a great disservice to you for me tobe anything but a loyal subject to you.”

Kirin thought on her words for a moment. They weren’t unexpected, but he also didn’t expect them to be so blunt and honest. Following his instincts on the matter, he decided it was time to let friendship steer the course, and to place his faith in the bond they developed since that fateful day in Whiterun.

“Then by my right as Thane, I release you from my service. Your loyalty remains impeccable, and all will know that the honor of Lydia Steel-Singer is of the highest in the land, second to none,” stated Kirin, boldy. “Now then – will you continue to travel with me along this perilous road, as my sister in blood? Or will you return to Whiterun in service of Jarl Balgruuf the Greater?”

Without hesitation, Lydia drew the finely honed steel dagger from her hip and slid it across her bare palm. She then set her elbow on the table, hand raised as Kirin quickly skimmed across the skin of his own hand with the sharp dwarven knife he kept stowed in is boot. They clasped hands firmly on the tabletop and intoned the ancient oath of Kinship as their mingled blood gently dripped upon the wooden table.

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Having made the both legs of the trip before, Lydia and Kirin found little opposition to them as they returned to Ivarstead from their newly found temple of the Sky. The cozy little town that hid in the shadow of the great mountain was still and quiet as they crossed the southern bridge into the village. Lydia turned towards the inn as they passed by, but Kirin continued right past it.

“You do not wish to climb the Seven Thousand Steps at night, do you Kirin?”

“Nah then,” said Kirin. “You may head inside without me. I have a matter to attend to for the Lady Mara.”

“Very well – I will see you shortly.”

Lydia entered Vilemyr with a quick snap of the door, as Kirin headed towards the farm at the other end of town. He knew Fastred usually tended to the animals after dinner, and was hoping to catch her away from the prying eyes of her folk. Mara’s guidance steered him true, and he found the young lass toiling away in the twilight.

Kirin spoke to her at some length, reassuring her that the Goddess of Love would not leave her prayers unanswered. She professed her love of Bassianus, but he sensed doubt in her conviction. Rather than speaking directly to him, Kirin instead took his leave of Fastred, and sought out her parents.

It was then that he learned of Klimmek, and the mystery surrounding their falling out. Kirin knew him to be a good man, and had even helped him with a food delivery to High Hrothgar. The fishermen was found to be standing near the mill, taking in the night air when Kirin approached him and struck up a conversation. He seemed to be a bit more down to earth than Bassianus, and genuinely seemed to love Fastred.

"Oh, Fastred. I'm not sure what happened. One moment she's smiling at me, the next I can't even meet her eyes.”

Sometimes it surprised Kirin how daft other men could be about speaking to women. Maybe his time as a mercenary gave him a different perspective on the opposite sex, but he never found it difficult to relay his intentions. Klimmek seemed genuinely astounded that simply telling Fastred how he feels could be a good idea.

But he heeded the advice well, and ran off to find the young woman. A feeling of warmth and content rose up inside of Kirin, assuring him that he made the right decision. The touch of Mara was a wonderful feeling, and knowing that his work her was completed, he nearly skipped off to the inn as the light of Mara filled his soul.

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After a long climb the next day, Kirin and Lydia rested in the drafty halls of High Hrothgar, where they enjoyed a cup of hot tea whilst the Greybeards mediated outside in the courtyard. The stone monastery was eerily quiet without the Thu’um masters shuffling about on their daily routines – all that could be heard was the crackling of flames illuminating the dark halls, and the wind howling about the mountain outside.

The hours passed and the day drew on as they two friends waited patiently for Arngeir to join them inside. It was nigh on supper time when the weathered old Nord emerged from the cold, and spied them sitting around a roughly hewn stone table, chatting amicably.

“Ah, my apologies for not noticing your arrival, Dragonborn. Is there something the Greybeards may help you with?”

Much to the Master’s dismay, Kirin explained their search for the lost Shout they learned of with the Blades. Arngeir lost his temper, and accused the Dragonborn of being nothing more than a tool in the machinations of the shadowy organization. It was only after Kirin asserted his own will, and Master Einarth broke his silence, chiding Arngeir in the tounge of the Dovah.

“Forgive me, Dragonborn – I have been intemperate with you.”

He continued on, explaining that he could not teach Kirin the Shout that he sought. Dragonrend it was called, but the words were unknown to the Greybeards, who felt it had no place in their ancient halls. Instead, he decided it was time for Kirin to meet the leader of the Way of the Voice – Paarthurnax. Leading them out into the courtyard, the Elder taught him one final Shout, assuring Kirin that this would be their final gift to the Dragonborn.

“Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time. You may find Paarthurnax at the peak of the Throat of the World. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, stay focused on your goal, and your path to the top will clear. Good luck, Dovahkiin.”