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 XV �" Unexpected Guests


A short time later, Cain was seated around a smaller, more intimate dining table with only Kirin, Lydia, and a still sulky Anska joining him. The food was simple yet delicious and hardy, with plenty to go around. Palace staff waited nearby to fill empty glasses and set out new plates of roasted meats, grilled vegetables, and fresh fruit as the platters were emptied by the small gathering. Eventually it was all cleared away, with only their glasses and a few bottles of wine remaining on the table.

Unable to withstand the dagger-like looks he was still receiving from his girlfriend, Cain poured her another glass of wine and spoke to Anska in low tones while across from them his mother and father conversed about something else.

“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened earlier,” he began. “Is there some way I can make it up to you? I don’t want to sit here in silence with you, barely acknowledging each other all evening. I like you far too much for that sort of thing and I’d also like to think the feeling is mutual.”

She glared at him for a second but her face softened at the earnest, almost pining sort of look in Cain’s eyes. “Fine then. You definitely owe me, but I’ll let it go for now. I understand what you were trying to do, even if I don’t like it.” She gave him a kiss and continued on, “And there is something you can do for me…maybe tomorrow?”

“Name it.”

“I want to go back to Stonehills to pay final respects. Your father says the town will be rebuilt, but it won’t be my home anymore. Can we make the trip down there?”

“Of course,” said Cain. “I’ll make the arrangements tonight and we can head out early tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, babe” she said. “I know it’s a long walk, but it would mean more to me than you could know. And I’m very familiar with Hjaalmarch - I can guide us through the swamps to save time. We’ll only be gone for a couple of days at most.”

They had been talking about the trip amicably for a few minutes and did not notice that Kirin and Lydia’s own discussion had dwindled down. The king and queen had been trying there best not to listen in, but it was a small table and they couldn’t help but overhear what Cain and Anska were talking about. Kirin cleared his throat after hearing they would be leaving again.

“I don’t mean to pry,” said the king, “but can you make sure are back within a few days. I’m not saying you two can’t go… It’s just that, well, you won’t be spending your time idling around the palace. There is work to be done in Skyrim and abroad, and the two of you will be helping just as much as Linneá and Serana do. That doesn’t mean you’ll be attending diplomatic summits,” he laughed. “However, I do want to get an idea of where your talents lie, my son.”

“We’ll hasten back as soon as we can,” Anska promised.

“That’s all I ask for, lass. Now then, would you be kind enough to leave Cain and I here? I need some time alone with him and I think my wife needs your help with something else.”

Lydia and Anska excused themselves while Cain helped himself to another glass of wine. He had been surprised and delighted to see the vintage bottle of Surlie Brothers wine and was on his third measure of the dark red cabernet that had come all the way from Skingrad, in his old home province of Cyrodiil. He took a sip and set it down just as the door to the dining area closed, leaving Cain alone with his father for the first time since his arrival at the Blue Palace. Unsure of where to start, he was relieved when Kirin spoke first.

“So, how have you been settling in? Lydia tells me you’ve come around a bit and that your trip to our old home was fruitful?”

“Bit of an understatement there,” answered Cain. “Linneá knocked me out for the night when she shared her knowledge of the Thu’um with me. We were having a good time with my sisters and Kyne �" who you forgot to mention was around �" and it ended earlier than I would have liked it to.”

“I’m sure you can imagine why we left it up to her for you two to meet,” said Kirin. “It must have gone well though, if you are still relatively sane. And I’m afraid to say that your sister learned that trick with gifting dragon knowledge from me. I did the same thing to her five years ago and she still brings it up from time to time. Although, she was more unbalanced as a result, so I can see why Linneá hasn’t let me live it down!”

“Unbalanced?”

“That was when she still hid her power. And she was vampire at the time, which didn’t play nicely with a dormant Dragonborn. Messy affair all around.”

“Oh. Kyne did mention that last night. I still find it hard to believe that Serana is that old.”

“Don’t let that trip you up, son,” said Kirin. “There’s a depth of knowledge and experience there, but she’s just the same as every other twenty-seven-year-old I’ve ever met. Linnea included. Probably why they get on so well.”

Cain thought about that for a minute. Nothing about his sister-in-law really did scream ancient vampire, so he saw the wisdom in Kirin’s words. Serana had been just as kind as everyone else and had even been pressing Linnea to not be so brash with him. I should talk to her a little more later, thought Cain. Haven’t really had a chance to get to know her all that well. Realizing his glass was empty again, he poured some more wine in his glass and in his father’s.

Smiling slightly, Kirin shook his head a little while Cain took another sip of wine. “You drink almost as much as Serana does,” he mused. “She loves her brandy and never misses a chance to celebrate with it. A habit from her unenviable past I think. Poor girl had a rough time before Linnea stumbled into her life. Ah well. Let’s take a walk, yeah? My bones are getting stiff from sitting in these wooden chairs.”

The king set his drink down and stood up, beckoning Cain to follow him. For the next half hour or so they strolled through the corridors of the palace and occasionally outside to the gardens while they talked. Kirin was determined to kindle a connection with his unexpected son and had been delighted to hear that Cain had already come so far with his wife and daughter in the short time since his arrival. He also wanted to hear more about Anska �" it seemed the maiden already had a firm grip on Cain’s heart and that pleased him as well.

They were deep in conversation about their shared dragon blood when a sudden clamor reached their ears from elsewhere in the palace. Cain glanced quickly at his father who nodded grimly and they set off towards the source of the noise. Panicked shouting began to echo up and down the empty stone hallways as they drew nearer, until the noise reached a fever pitch. Recognizing the loudest voice, Cain and Kirin began to dash towards the chamber Linnea’s dulcet tones resonated from, alarmed at the fear lacing her screams.

Crashing through a door, they found themselves in Sybille’s alchemy lab. Linnea was barely being restrained by Lydia and a palace guard while the court wizard examined an unconscious form that was awkwardly splayed out on the hard floor. With a sinking feeling Cain realized it was Serana, and the look on Sybille’s face when she saw that Kirin had arrived did not bode well.

“What’s happened?!” demanded the King. “Linnea! Take a deep breath and explain!”

His daughter stopped fighting to be freed and breathed deeply to steady herself. “We were jumped by some Morag Tong thugs in Blacklight. They’re all dead, but one of them nicked her arm with a blade and it must have been poisoned. She started getting woozy almost immediately and collapsed within seconds. My healing spells did nothing to help her.”

“Sybille?” he asked his wizard. “Do you have an antidote?”

“I tried a generic mixture, sire,” she said. “It had little effect. Without knowing what kind of poison it was, I have no way of knowing what specialized potion to mix!”

“GODSAMMIT, SYBILLE!” bellowed Linnea. “YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING! I CAN’T LOSE HER!” She started to struggle against her mother and the guard again, furiously trying to break free and be with her wife. Then she went slack, heavy sobs wracking her body while she slumped forward in despair.

“[censored],” muttered Cain, who couldn’t bear to see his sister this way. Serana didn’t deserve this fate either and it strengthened his resolve to try an old battlefield tactic he had learned coming up in the Fighter’s Guild. There was nothing else to do besides place his trust in those around him. “[censored] [censored] [censored].” He stepped into the lab and caught Sybille’s attention while motioning around the room. “Is this all the alchemical stock you have on hand?”

“I �" yes,” said a surprised Sybille. “But Serana has much more in her private lab. Between the two of us, we probably have every reagent from the surrounding provinces.”

“Good, cause we’re going to need them,” said Cain. He unsheathed a small knife he kept on his hip at all times and knelt down next to Serana. Trying his best to ignore Linnea’s desperate cries, he pulled Sybille down next to him. “I need you to trust me and do exactly as I say. Do you have some parchment?”

“On the table there.”

“Grab it.”

She got up and tore off a slip from an old scroll, then she grabbed her quill before kneeling back down next to Cain. “Okay, what now?”

“I’m going to tell you what the poison is and you’re going to follow my instructions.”

“How are you go-?” began Sybille. But her question went unfinished as Cain rolled up the sleeve of Serana’s blouse and studied the healed over wound on her arm. Inky black tendrils meandered out from where the poisoned blade had struck her, and they were slowly spreading down the length of her arm.

“[censored],” muttered Cain again. Then he took a deep breath and slid his own blade across the wound.

No!” shouted Lydia and Kirin in unison. “Cain, you can’t-“

A few drops of blackened blood hung from the edge of his dagger and in one swift motion he raised it to his mouth and licked them off before they could drip to the floor. Shuddering deeply as the poison entered his own system, Cain smacked his lips and searched his field training memories, trying to remember what insidious plant elicited the foul taste in Serana’s blood.

It hit him just as the world around Cain began to get fuzzy and spin at a furious pace. “Em..Eme…” he turned his head and vomited all over the floor before he could get the words out. “Urk… Emetic Ru…russula,” he sputtered. “Emetic Russula. Make a poul… poultice for S-Serana and j-jam the rest down…our…throats.”

The poison settled into his blood and he passed out on the floor next to Serana, spasms forcing his body to flounder against the cold floor until Kirin stepped into hold him down until they passed.

“Sybille!” shouted Lydia. “Go quickly �" get what you need!”

“We should have everything we need, ma’am. Emetic Russula is fairly common. We might get lucky here…”

“Work quickly,” Kirin gently ordered. “Their lives are in your hands now.”

Just then, Linneá regained her composure and broke free from Lydia’s grasp. “I can help, Sybille. I have to help. Just tell me what you need!”

She started scribbling a few notes down on the parchment and handed it to her. “Go get these reagents from Serana’s lab. Quickly! It’s starting to spread more rapidly through both of them.” She watched Linneá dash from the room and then beckoned Lydia over to her. “I need you both to stay with them and let me know if you see any new symptoms. I have to start mixing the antidote.”

Kirin and Lydia both nodded and set about trying to make the two siblings more comfortable. There wasn’t much around the room that could be used, so Kirin unclasped his cloak and rolled it up like a pillow and placed it under Serana’s neck while Lydia did the same for Cain. With nothing left but to wait and hope, the king bowed his head and prayed silently to his goddess to protect them.

A warm breeze fluttered in the through the doorway at the same time that Linneá bolted back in and handed a small satchel to Sybille. The court wizard took it from her and dumped the ingredients out on her alchemy table and began to form the poultice while the antidote burbled away in her alembic. A few minutes later, she dumped the mixture into two vials and poured the rest over the healing poultice, handing the latter to Linneá.

“Strap that firmly over Serana’s wound and then help me get their mouths open!”

With the poultice in place, Linnea forced apart her wife’s lips and let Sybille pour the steaming tincture down her throat. They quickly repeated the process with Cain and then sat back in wait, watching closely and praying the antidote would take effect soon. It didn’t take long for a noticeable improvement to appear �" the pallor of their skin became warmer, and the spreading tendrils of poison on Serana’s arm retreated into nothingness. Even their breath settled, chests slowly rising and falling in a normal pattern.

“I think they’re through the woods,” exhaled Sybille. “We should be able to move them to the infirmary now.”

Linnea sobbed again and wrapped her arms around the Breton. “Thank you, Sybille. I know I can be a cow sometimes, but I’ll never forget what you did here. For both of them.”

“Aye,” said Kirin. “You’ve done wonderfully, Sybille. Now, let’s get these two out of here. I can manage Serana.” He stooped down and lifted his unconscious daughter up in his arms. Linnea, can you and your mother manage with Cain?”

They both said ‘yes’, and together they managed to lift the heavy young man and follow along in the king’s footsteps.