Season Unending, The Children of Kyne, Vol. III Options

[Kane]

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Content warning: this story should be considered 18+. Sexual content is present, but never described, and I don't shy away from foul language (though it seems to be censored). There is also darker content further in regarding sexual assault.

Prologue
It could be said that Skyrim was a cold, harsh land, unforgiving to outsiders and barely tolerant of anyone but a true Nord. Fortunately, those times have passed, and the sun shines brightly upon a healing landscape. The scars of civil war and dragon crises fading to memory as a new High King and his court sought to pull the land up from the depths of a crumbling Empire. An Empire in name only, its once powerful alliance spanning the entirety of Tamriel, now relegated to Cyrodiil (or the Heartland, as the Nibenese and Colovian nobles preferred to call it), High Rock, and, of course, Skyrim.

But now Skyrim stood to rise above the rest, and usher in a new era for a floundering society that still scurried from the inevitable boot of the Aldmeri Dominion. Hope began to inflame the hearts of men, for the Dragonborn King was rumored to be setting his sights upon the Ruby Throne, and the weak Mede Dynasty that occupied it. From his palace in Solitude, forces were directed and diplomats dispatched as the pawns of war moved slowly but surely. The Dominion was forced out of Skyrim with an ultimatum, and the land was finally back under the full rule of the Nords, as it ought to be.

The year is Two Hundred Twenty-nine of the Fourth Era, and the gears of war have started to turn, as the land braces itself for the Second Great War that was always to come. It was also the year that a mid-level member of the Anvil chapter of the Fighter’s Guild was loaned to the storied Companions of Jorrvaskr, in the city of Whiterun. This talented young warrior of Redguard descent suddenly found himself sailing to a strange land and leaving behind the only home he ever knew. Little remained for him in Anvil after the passing of his mother, so he looked forward to a new chapter of his life, far from the painful memories of home.

The first mate, a stout Imperial named Janius, approached the young Redguard with a roll of parchment and a quill. “Name?”

“Cain. No surname.”

“No surname?” inquired the First Mate. “How can that be, young man? I have it here that you were born and raised in Anvil, and joined the Fighter’s Guild when you came of age. Your mother is listed as Ariessa Janeel, also of Anvil. Do you not share her name?”

“In the absence of my father, she did not bestow it upon me.”

“Bastard then, eh? Unfortunate, but I see it all the time. What is your business in Skyrim?”

“On loan to The Companions. For what reason I do not yet know, but I will follow my orders from the guild and my future employers.”

“An honorable attitude for a young warrior, mister Cain. It’s a long voyage to the port of Solitude, so all we ask is that you remain civil and pitch in a helping hand when required.”

Cain nodded and the first mate moved on to speak with a different passenger. It was indeed a long voyage, filled with many sleepless nights while the ship bobbed and rocked on the choppy waters of the sea. The occasional storm would blow in and everyone from the captain to the lowest deckhands were grim-faced and determined as they struggled to keep the passengers safe from the onslaught of high waves and powerful winds. Nearly a full month passed before they sailed beneath the great arch of Solitude and nestled the ship into the port. All hands helped to moor the ship before the passengers eagerly disembarked in a new land.

A tall Dunmer man of middle years stood in wait on the pier, clad in worn hide armors with a longsword slung across his back. Years of experience lined his weathered face, eyes deep set and wary as he scanned the faces off all those who set foot off of the ship. When Cain approached the man, he flagged the Redguard down and directed him off to the side.

“You must be Cain,” he said. “Fresh from Anvil, yes? My name is Athis and I’ve been sent by our Harbinger to retrieve you. The Companions welcome your aid, but we have a long journey to Whiterun yet. Ordinarily I would accompany you south on foot, but we are already short-handed and will be taking a carriage.”

“Nice to meet you, Athis. Lead the way �" this is a strange land for me and I defer to your judgement.”

They shook hands and departed the port at a quick trot. A carriage sat in wait along the road to the capital city, and soon after Athis handed the driver a bag of Septims, the were trundling along the road to Dragon Bridge, headed for the southern road to Whiterun Hold and Jorrvaskr �" the legendary mead hall of The Companions. Despite being in an unfamiliar land, Cain found himself excited at the prospect of these new horizons and the change of pace from the last few months of misery that followed the death of his mother. He bowed his in prayer for her before striking up a conversation with Athis.

“So, what’s it like being in The Companions?” he asked. “Are things much different from the Fighter’s Guild?”

“Oh yes, quite different. Every man or woman in The Companions is their own. We have no leaders, just a Harbinger who is wise in counsel and offers a guiding hand. There are no ranks to elevate to and no coveted positions to fight for. We take the jobs we must and your shield-siblings will be ready to stand with you. Honor is valued above all else.”

“Interesting. I must admit, the lack of politics seems hard to believe. Everything is so much about rank and station in the guild that often times our true purpose is forgotten when the infighting picks up. Jobs go unanswered in the chaos and brawls turn deadly over simple differences of opinion. I might end up staying here for a long time if life is to be more peaceful in that regard.”

Athis chuckled. “While we do strive to rise above such petty squabbles, you’ll soon find that Jorrvaskr is anything but peaceful. However, our brawls usually end with hearty pats on the back and consuming copious amounts of mead, rather than misery and death!”

“Sounds like a dream come true, Athis.”

“That’s a very Nordic attitude, young one. Are you sure you’re a Redguard?”

“The color of my skin betrays that,” laughed Cain. “But who knows, maybe my father was a Nord, whoever he may be.”

The Dunmer smiled and their conversation moved onto other topics. Athis went over the finer points of The Companions with him and eventually moved onto the current political climate and powers that be in Skyrim. Cain listened with rapt attention, absorbing all the he could to avoid any run-ins with local laws and to avoid misunderstandings, no matter how small they could be. Just as the sun began to set, the carriage pulled into a small village and ground to a halt. Orthar, the driver, dismounted and told them they would continue on in the morning. Cain and Athis hopped down from the wagon and followed him into the local tavern, the Frostfruit Inn.

“This is the village of Rorikstead,” said Athis. “A fine place to spend the night. Grab us some mead and I’ll see about getting a meal. No sense in sleeping on an empty stomach.”

He left the inn as Cain was ordering a few pints of mead and a loaf of bread to munch on. Experience had taught the young man never to consume spirits on an empty stomach, and so he found a table off to the side and chewed on the crusty loaf while he awaited Athis’ return. Ten minutes later, his fellow Companion reentered the tavern with a basket of fruit in one hand and a bundle of skewered meats in the other. They ate and drank their fill while continuing to discuss the ins and outs of Jorrvaskr well into the night.

Dawn brought forth cloudy skies and the smell of rain upon the air as the carriage rumbled off onto the road, resuming their journey to Whiterun. By late afternoon, the two men were approaching the gates of the tundra city, and making their way through the bustling marketplace. They passed the local tavern and ascended a flight of stairs whereupon Cain was greeted with a breathtaking sight �" the Gildegreen was in full bloom before his eyes and the immense beauty of the towering tree froze him in his tracks as the wind gently whistled through its branches.

“Aye, a sight to see, eh?” remarked Athis. “Little matches the serene beauty of our mighty tree, blessed by the Goddess Kyne herself. That’s her temple there and the priestess' maintain the tree and those who seek her guidance within.”

“It’s amazing,” sighed Cain. “There is nothing quite as lovely in all of Cyrodiil.”

“Yeah, well, the Imperials already think too highly of themselves. Divines know they don’t deserve such a wonderful symbol as our Gildegreen. Let’s move on now �" Jorrvaskr is just over there.”

Continuing on, Cain and Athis soon stepped through the solid wood doors of the legendary mead hall and were met with the raucous din of the main dining area where shield siblings dined heartily and drank merrily, roaring with laughter and swapping exaggerated stories of their noble deeds. Athis steered him through the hall and down a small flight of stairs to a much quieter living area, with bedrooms lining the underground corridor. The walls were adorned with centuries of decorations ranging from trophy kills to impressive weapons to woven tapestries and ancient, tattered flags. At the far end of the hall two men sat around a small table and were deep in conversation, only noticing their approach at the last minute.

The smaller of the two large men rose to greet them. “Athis, I see you’ve returned with our new shield-brother!” He turned to the Redguard and offered a hand for Cain to shake. “Cain, yes? Welcome to Jorrvaskr! I’m Vilkas, Harbinger of The Companions, and the silent one here is my brother Farkas. He may look intimidating but I promise he is more bark than bite!” Vilkas roared with laughter and sat back down as Farkas greeted Cain.

“Pleasure to meet you, brother,” rumbled the towering Nord. He sat back down and resumed his stony silence while Vilkas spoke again.

“No trouble, then, Athis?”

“None at all. The land seems quiet for a change.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. But it’s getting late now �" you two head upstairs and eat. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow!”

Athis and Cain took their leave of the Harbinger, and his silent brother, and headed back to the dining hall for a good meal and plenty of mead. All in all, Cain was looking forward to being counted among the ranks of such proud, jovial warriors. Jorrvaskr was everything the Fighters Guild was not, and his mind was made up in short order �" tomorrow he would pen a letter to his chapter leader and tender his resignation. But the night was still relatively young, and after stowing what little gear he had under a vacant bed, Cain met Athis upstairs in the great hall.

They ate, drank, and sang well into the night as Cain made the rounds and was introduced to his shield-siblings. More than a few were young like him, and he could not help but eye up some of the female warriors among the ranks, especially Thea, a tall blonde Nord that shared the same birthyear as Cain. He lingered next to her the longest and was in awe at how much mead she could knock back with the rest of the burly men seated around Jorrvaskr. By midnight the two of them had slid out the back door and were getting to know each other better in the moonlit gardens.

The next day came earlier than Cain, still sleeping off the merriment and escapades from the night before, had expected it to. Farkas strode into his room just after sunrise and threw a dossier at him before barking out the Redguard’s first orders.

“Read that and then come find me in the mead hall. You’re heading to Falkreath today and we need to find you a shield-sibling to watch your back, and see what you can do. Don’t tarry, it’s a long walk to Falkreath and the sun is already up.”

Cain sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before leaving his warm bed and heading for the bathroom. He checked himself in the mirror before leaving and sighed at the long scratches Thea had left on the side of his face. Farkas had likely noticed them, too, but it was probably nothing new to the seasoned Companion. He splashed some water on his faced, headed back to general quarters, got dressed, and went upstairs for his first assignment.

This post has been edited by Kane: May 6 2025, 01:14 PM

[Kane]

Chapter VI - Awakening


The sun was set and darkness reigned over the land when Cain and Anska bashfully walked back into their campsite and took a seat around the fire. They kept catching each other’s eyes and looking away with quick smiles while they set about roasting the few fish they had caught after their brief respite. Athis began to stir when the smell of seasoned arctic char wafted through the air around them, and he awoke with a start to see his fellow adventurers making small talk.

“Is that fish ready? Smells wonderful.” He plucked a piece off of the one nearest to him on the spit and chewed thoughtfully on it. “Mmm, who brought the herbs and spices? Did you, Anska? Cause I certainly didn’t and I don’t think Cain did either.”

“Yeah, that was me,” said Anska. “I keep a small container of spice in my bag for when I’m out hunting. Sometimes I’ll spend a couple days in the wilds, and you can only eat bland meat so many times before it gets old.”

Athis gave her a short bow without getting up. “Compliments to the chef, miss. This is much tastier than the venison jerky and dried fruits we had earlier. How many of these little beauties are there?”

“Just the three,” said Cain. “Fish weren’t biting well tonight.”

The Redguard plucked his own fish off of the cooking spit and dined on it while Anska did the same. All was quiet in the camp for a bit, but Athis’ keen eyes did not miss the frequent glances passing between his younger companions and tried unsuccessfully to hide the recognition as it dawned on him. Try as he might, the knowing smile would not leave his features, and it wasn’t long before Cain noticed and asked him what was so amusing.

“Nothing at all,” said Athis, unconvincingly. “Just reminiscing about the old days �" you know how it is. Been on a lot of adventures like this, and sometimes the memories filter back through.”

“Athis…”

“Oh, alright, then,” Athis sighed. “I know the look you two keep sharing with each other, seen it plenty of times in my life. You two got, um, familiar with each other while I napped, didn’t you?”

Cain and Anska blushed and tried their best to not look at each other, both of them suddenly interested in the fish they were eating or the fire blazing in front of them. Then the maiden giggled and it brought a broad smile to Cain’s face, who simply nodded towards Athis in agreement.

“Well, good,” said the Dunmer. “It was obviously going to happen sooner or later, so I’m glad you two got it out of your systems before we went into High Gate. Just keep your heads on straight in there tomorrow, yeah? My gut tells me we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

“You got it, boss,” said Cain. Then he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “I think I’ll turn in for the night. Wake me if anything bad happens.”

Anska and Athis bade him goodnight as Cain crawled into his tent and sealed the flaps from the brisk coastal winds and nestled down into his sleeping bag. Sleep did not come right away, but the dull murmur of conversation outside of his tent, and the gentle lapping noise of the tide setting in worked wonderfully as encouragement. Within fifteen minutes, he had fully passed out and was snoring loudly �" much to the amusement of his friends sitting around the campfire.

-----

Morning came in hurry and brought an icy sleet along with it, much to the chagrin of the questors who had hoped for another warm meal and an easy load out before heading to the barrow. Instead, the trio left their campsite set up and got underway, hoping that the rain would clear out and that the sun would dry everything off by the time they got back. High Gate Ruins wasn’t very far away, and by ten o’clock they were standing inside the antechamber of the barrow, removing wet cloaks and tossing them aside.

Cain look around the dusty room, noting the handful of dead draugr laying on the floor. “That’s odd, I wonder who killed these ones? They don’t seem to be decaying very much, so it must have been recently...”

“About a week ago, actually,” said Anska. “I tried coming here by myself before asking the Companions for assistance. But there are far too many draugr further in for me to handle alone, and when I saw the bas reliefs depicting a dragon priest, I decided to abandon it until help came.”

“Good thinking, miss,” said Athis.

“Definitely,” agreed Cain. “However, I think we should iron out our roles here before we delve further in. Athis, you’re lightly armored and don’t have a shield, so I think you should lag behind me. My armor is not very heavy, but it’s more robust than your hide and furs. Anska, you mentioned a proficiency with your war axe last night?”

“Yeah, it’s all I carry for things like this. My bow won’t be much use in these narrow halls.”

“Okay, then I’d like you to take the rear. My longsword has a greater reach and I can use restoration magick to draw out the targets, then you and Athis can lock them up once they’re in close. If either of you get hurt, fall back to safety and I’ll tend to your wounds once the danger has passed.”

Athis and Anska both agreed. Cain lit a torch from one of the nearby braziers and drew his trusty sword Ariessa, before kicking open the first door ahead of them. There were no undead in sight, so he led them ever deeper into High Gate Ruins, ever mindful for hidden traps and the draugr that silently waited to fend off trespassers that dared to enter the barrow. On and on they crept, clearing room after room and chamber after chamber of the Nordic undead that teemed within the ancient corridors of the ruins until they finally stood before an iron door with an old inscription carved into the center of it.

“I think this is it, friends,” said Cain. “Vokun’s throne room lies just beyond this door. Do you want to rest here for a while, or shall we get this over with?”

“Let’s kick ass,” answered Anska. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get the scroll and the end is so close! Er, that is, if you two are ready to go on.”

“I’m ready, said Athis.

“Okay, same plan that worked for us with the other draugr,” said Cain. “Athis, you mentioned a familiarity with these priests, yeah? How difficult will this be?

“Very. Dragon Priests were the de facto leaders of the Dragon Cult, back in the Merethic Era. They were the highest ranking �" and most powerful �" men in the cult, and they took their orders directly from the dragons themselves. Expect powerful magicka to be thrown at us, and possibly even the Thu’um. Many priests were said to have achieved lichdom status, so tread carefully.”

“Athis speaks the truth, Cain. Do not take this foe lightly.”

“Understood,” replied Cain. “Let’s get to it.” He pushed open the door and stole quietly forward with Athis at his back and Anska circling wide to the outskirts of the throne room. The air was still and silent, but without warning the sarcophagus at the center of the room burst open, the heavy lid sliding to the ground with a loud bang, and Vokun floated up from his resting place with an unholy roar of anger.

The priest floated about a foot off of the ground, a shimmering aura of magicka crackling around him, and a powerful staff clutched in right hand. Cain and Athis rushed into engage him, dodging powerful fireballs from Vokun’s free hand and the bolts of lightning issuing from the staff. Anska had found an ancient nordic bow and was peppering the monster with arrows from afar. Finally in close enough, Cain expertly swung and stabbed at the priest with his silver imbued sword, guided by an experience far beyond his age. Athis dove in at Vokun whenever he saw and opening, but it took all of his focus to not become mesmerized by the gleaming blur that was his Shield-Brother’s longsword.

After several long minutes of furious battle with the dragon priest a final arrow from Anska’s new bow staggered the creature enough for Cain to end it, driving his sword up through its chin and out of the top of its head. Vokun issued one last guttural groan as the blue light faded from his eyes, and the strange mask he donned slipped to the floor while the remains of his lich form disintegrated into ash.

Winded from the exertion of the harrowing encounter, Athis took a seat at the foot of the now empty sarcophagus to catch his breath while Anska joined them from her ranged position. Meanwhile, Cain sheathed his sword on his back and reached down to pick up Vokun’s mask, curious about its properties.

“Strange,” he said. “What and oddly carved mask to wear, yet I can feel the magick imbued within. But it feels evil, somehow… I think we should hide it away somewhere in Jorrvaskr. Keep it from prying eyes and power-hungry ne’er-do-wells.”

“Won’t get any arguments from me,“ panted Athis. The experienced Dumner looked up at the Redguard curiously. “Cain, how in the hell are you not utterly spent from fighting that monster? I get that your young, but you look as if that was just another walk around the gardens, and not a fight for our lives. And where did you learn to swing a sword like that? It looked more like an extension of your arm, rather than a blade to be wielded.”

“I’ve always had a knack for swordplay,” shrugged Cain. “But a properly balanced blade should be an extension of one’s self. I forged my sword years ago, and have practiced and fought with nothing else since.”

“Well, it sure amazing to watch, Cain,” said Anska, her eyes twinkling again. “And dead sexy, too, if I’m being honest.”

“Stop right there, miss,” Athis interjected. “We don’t have time for you two lovebirds to go at it again. Let’s get the scroll your after and then get the hell out of here.” He staggered to his feet and took a drink of water from the canteen on his belt. “It looks like there is another room beyond those stairs up there. C’mon.”

Cain and Anska both laughed, and bowed dramatically in agreement. Athis shook his head and muttered something about young people as he climbed the old wooden steps to the balcony above, and strode into the final chamber of High Gate Ruins. They descended another flight of stairs to a large stone table in the middle, its surface laden with parchment and various old books and wrapped scrolls. There seemed to be an altar of some sort just past the table, but an immense pile of rubble had fallen over it from a cave-in high above them. Cain wasn’t sure at first what about it caught his attention, but then a low sound floated into his ears and he turned back towards Athis and Anska, pointing at the fallen stones.

“Do you two hear that?”

Athis looked up at him. “Hear what? I don’t hear anything.”

“Neither do I,” said Anska. “What does it sound like?”

“Almost like a low chanting sound �" it reminds me of a choir, like you would hear during a temple service, but much lower, and I can’t make out the words.”

“Hmm, are you sure you’re feeling okay after that fight?” said Athis. “Didn’t get hit over the head, did you? Cause all I see is a pile of rubble and all I hear is us.”

“Aha!” shouted Anska, holding an ancient scroll in her hand. “Here it is, still sealed and everything! Ugh, it feels like it’s magickally sealed, though. I’ll might to take it to the college and see if they can get it open somehow.” Pocketing the scroll, Anska walked over to Cain’s side. “I still don’t hear anything. Should we get going? Sooner we get out of here the better.”

“Yeah, okay,” muttered Cain. He had been straining his ears as much as he could, but still did not understand what he was hearing. Then he shook his head to clear it and looked around for the way out. “Let’s check up there, maybe there will be an easier way out.”

Ten minutes later they stepped out of the barrow onto the northern coastline, just as the sun began to sink behind the Druadach Mountains to the west. Breathing deep sighs of relief, Cain, Athis, and Anska headed towards their campsite a short distance away, eager to rest for a while by the warm flames. They had only walked a short way when a deafening roar filled the air around them, and the sound of heavy wings flapped over their heads.
Athis groaned in disbelief at their misfortune as the huge dragon glided past them before circling around and flying directly at the unlucky trio. “Ancestors preserve us! Fan out you two!” he shouted. “There’s no running from this fight, weapons at the ready!”

Helpless to fight the beast without a bow and arrow, Cain resorted to flinging what few destruction spells he did know at the dragon, hoping that he and Anska could keep it distracted from Athis. The Dunmer had only his sword to fight with, and was resigned to nimbly move about in the hopes that eventually it would be grounded and open to onslaught. The minutes ticked by uncounted as darkness set in before the beast was finally grounded, and the two Companions were able to rush in with their longswords to hack away at the scaly hide.

Cain attacked the dragon desperately, calling on every ounce of his innate Redguard adrenaline to whittle away at the monstrous demigod while also keeping it away from Athis and Anska. At long last, he sensed the beasts’ energy waning, and with a final plumb to the depths of his own strength, Cain seized his opportunity to end the fight. He dove forward and grabbed one of the dragon’s massive horned spikes and used it to swing himself up on its great scaly back.

Athis and Anska jumped back away from the dragon and shouted in worried fear at the sight of their reckless friend mounting the massive beast, their apprehension slowly turning to awe as Cain leapt onto the dragon’s head and plunged his blade straight down through its skull with a defiant yell. He leapt off and landed on the rocky shore with a slight stagger, backing off slowly with the point of his sword still in the air while the dragon thrashed about in the final throes of death. And then it collapsed with a final, meek roar, and lay still before them.

Looking at him in amazement, Anska started to speak, her voice low. “Cain, that was �"“ but she was cut off when the dead beast before them started to glow, its scaly hide disintegrating in front of their eyes, and a mystical surge of orange and white light poured forth from it, flowing straight into the young Redguard.

Unsure what was happening to him, Cain dropped his sword with a clatter and knelt down as the overwhelming life force from the slain dragon imbued itself with his own soul, pushing him to the brink of unconsciousness. Finally, the flow of energy ceased and Cain was able to stagger back to his feet and look around, still slightly dazed.

Athis and Anska both stared at him in wonder. And then a strange rumble of thunder echoed throughout clear skies, followed by incomprehensibly loud voices speaking in an ancient tongue.

DO-VAH-KIIN

This post has been edited by Kane: Apr 28 2025, 01:04 PM