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 XXI – Into the Wilds

“I love you,” said Anska, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cain stared deeply into her warm brown eyes, overjoyed at the three words she had just uttered to him, and he did not hesitate to say them right back. His mouth had just begun to open when an arrow whizzed past his head and buried itself in a piece of timber on the apothecary’s façade. They both spun around to see who had loosed it, but only an empty alleyway stared back. Footsteps echoed further and further away until nothing but silence remained, leaving little point in trying to chase down the culprit.

“Damn, that was a close one,” said Cain, turning to examine the arrow. He plucked it from the wall and gave it a once over, noting the intricate carvings along the shaft. “Ever seen markings like this, hon?”

Anska looked it over herself, but the symbols were foreign to her, too. “No, it doesn’t look familiar. Are you alright? It didn’t nick you did it?”

“No, sailed right past me. We’ll take it back to the girls, maybe they’ll have some insight on it.” Though the moment had been ruined, Cain couldn’t help but smile widely at Anska. “Hey… I love you, too.”

“I know,” she said. “It was plain to see it in the way you’d stare at me when you thought I wasn’t watching. And you also didn’t deny Linneá’s ‘future wife’ statement. I knew right then and there that we’d found something special.” Anska hugged him tightly and gave him a gentle pat on the ass. “This is nice, but it’s time to get back to it – the sun is starting to set and we need to get over to the scene of the attack. The first attack, that is.”

He nodded and they set off across the marketplace, bound for the south side of town. It grew darker and darker as they walked, until dusk firmly set it just when they turned a corner and stepped into the alley where Serana had been struck. Ash piles still lingered on the ground, partially blown away by a gentle breeze that fluttered down the narrow passage. Tall buildings rose around them, their rooftops stretching away into the dark sky. The only source of light came from a torch Anska held aloft while she peered into the shadows, searching for any clue that may have been missed.

“Any idea when this contact of Ulvon’s will show up?” she asked.

“None whatsoever. Give me a second though, I have something I want to try.”

Cain had spent countless hours ruminating on the knowledge Linneá had granted him all those nights ago at Elysium. The words felt intrinsic to his being, and while he felt comfortable in their use, some still required caution when others were around. One of them, however, would be very useful in the situation they now found themselves in.

“Laas-Yah-Nir” he whispered.

An odd feeling of heighted sense filled Cain from within as the Thu’um’s power radiated out from him, searching the area around them for signs of life. His vision changed suddenly, and Cain could perceive three hidden figures cloaked in a red mist, lurking in the shadows beyond their normal sight. And a fourth figure approached them from the alley’s entrance.

“Did you just use a dragon shout?” said Anska. “I didn’t recognize the words you spoke.”

“I did and I’m glad I thought to. Be on guard – our contact is coming, and there are three others around us lying in wait.”

A tallish being stepped out of the dark and into the light of Anska’s torch. It was clad in typical dunmeri robes with a hood pulled up to obscure their face.

“We’re here at Archmaster Ulvon’s request,” Cain said. “And you can call off the other three lurking in the shadows, or this will be a very short meeting.”

The raspy voice of a man spoke from under the hood. “How perceptive of you to notice them. However, they are here for my protection and nothing more. One must always take precautions when meeting strangers in the dark.” He lowered the hood and cast a light spell, revealing the harsh, angular features of another hardened dark elf, red eyes gleaming in the barely lit passageway. “My name is Romlyn. May I ask who I am dealing with here? Ulvon was less than forthcoming.”

“Cain Windborne and Anska of Stonehills.”

“Windborne, eh? So, you’re the High King of Skyrim’s son then? I’m surprised he keeps sending out his children after what happened to his daughter.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why we’re here, Romlyn,” said Anska. “To get answers. Got any for us?”

“Straight to the point? Good, I don’t like being out in the open like this.” The dunmer reached into a satchel hanging from the belt of his robes and fished out a small slip of paper. “All I can provide is a name. Ideally, I’d have more for you to go on, but I was lucky enough just to get this. It’s the identity of the person who hired the poor fools that attacked your sisters. I don’t know who it is or where they’re from, but I can tell you they aren’t from around here. It’s not a name I recognize. I’m not even sure what kind of name it is.”

Anska took the paper from him and stowed it away in her own bag while Cain thanked the man for his help. Romlyn’s footsteps receded into the night, leaving the two of them alone in a strange city. They suddenly felt very vulnerable.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” said Cain. “Are you up for a Recall?”

“Um. I guess,” answered Anska. “To where?”

“I marked a spot in Linneá and Serana’s room when we were there earlier. Best I could do until we get our own room to stay in.”

“Really? Gods, I hope we don’t interrupt anything by just popping in like that.”

“I told Serana we might use it as a way to return.” Cain held out his hand. “Shall we? I’m also fine with your arms around me if that’s more comforting.”

Anska took the latter option and embraced him tightly while Cain cast the spell and they vanished from the alley. Seconds later they stood in the center of the small bedroom and opened their eyes hesitantly. Serana was asleep in bed, laying on top of the blankets and snoring away while Linneá sat at the small desk and stared expectantly at them.

“Sorry,” whispered Anska. “Didn’t want to walk all the way back here.”

Linneá pointed towards the door and ushered them out into the hallway. Once outside the room, she spoke to them in a normal register. “Don’t want to wake her up. Your room is ready and we can talk about your meeting in the morning. I’m about to turn in myself.” She led them to a door only two rooms down and unlocked it for them. “Here’s the key, make yourselves at home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hugged them both and went back to her own room for the night. Happy to have a place to themselves, Cain and Anska immediately began to settle in and get comfortable in the modest space. Opening the bathroom door, Cain was excited to see a bathtub tucked against the back wall. It was filled with fresh water and he wasted no time in lighting the coals in the small stove at the foot of it. Anska came in to see what all the noise was and practically squealed with delight.

“Thank heavens we can get cleaned up!” she said. “My perfume wore off a long time ago.”

“Oh, it did? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Shut up, dear. I know what I smell like and trust me when I say you’re worse off.”

Cain laughed heartily and went back into the bedroom area to start undressing while the water warmed up. He threw his dirty tunic and trousers in a heap near the door and pulled on a thin robe from his backpack and took a seat at the foot of their bed. Anska poked her head out of the bathroom a few minutes later and beckoned him back in.

“It’s nice and warm, stinky. Come in here and have a soak with me – I found some lovely smelling soaps, too.”

After a warm bath and small snack, Cain and Anska crawled into bed after a long day and fell asleep quickly. Dawn came much sooner than either of them would have liked, and a loud rap on the door startled them both into wakefulness. Grumbling incoherently, Cain got up and threw on his robe while Anska rolled over and went back to sleep.

He pulled the door open and Linneá pushed her way into the room with Serana just behind her. They took a seat on the small bench near the bed and looked about the messy room. “Couldn’t have picked up a little before your guests came over?” Linneá grinned.

“How the hell was I supposed to know you’d be here this early, Linn? We were dead to the world until you knocked on the door.”

“Looks like Anska still is,” Serana noted. She called over to the bed: “Can you wake up sleepyhead?”

Anska didn’t roll over, but she raised a hand and made a rude gesture at them.

Linneá chuckled and turned back towards Cain. “There’s a keeper if I ever saw one, brother. I think the four of us are going to have a lot of fun together. Now then, did you get anything good last night?”

“[censored], I don’t even know where to begin,” he said. “That meeting with Ulvon’s contact was probably the least exciting thing to happen yesterday evening.”

He went on for the next ten minutes, telling them all about the impromptu meeting with Mara that was followed by another failed assassination attempt. After assuring his sisters that they were unharmed, he showed them the name Romlyn had given him last night, and also handed Linneá the arrow that nearly struck him.

“Hmm, it is an odd name,” said Linneá. “’Lisotel’. Definitely mer, but not a style I’m familiar with. I don’t recognize the carvings on this arrow either. What about you, dear?” She handed it to Serana who studied it for a moment with a queer expression on her face.

“I know these symbols,” she said, quietly. “But I never thought I’d live to see them again.”

“You’re being vague, Ana. What is it?”

Anska stirred in the bed and finally go up to join them. Wrapping the blanket around her naked body, she joined Cain at the end of the bed and yawned loudly while Serana kept looking at the mysterious arrow.

Serana handed the arrow back to Cain. “Those are Ayleid inscriptions. Maybe the name ‘Lisotel’ is Ayleid, too?”

“Come off it, love,” said a shocked Linneá. “Ayleids? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Elle. I can’t decipher the letters, but I’m certain of their origins. No idea what a lost race of elves has to do with all of this though.”

Cain turned the arrow over in his hand, thinking back to some of his history lessons back in Anvil. Cyrodiil had been the seat of the Ayleid empire until the Alessian slave rebellion overthrew them, scattering what remained of the elves into the wild lands. There had always been rumors that they were still out there, living in small pockets in the deepest forests of the heartland, but they were just that: rumors.

“Guess they are still around,” said Cain. Something didn’t sit right with him about the attack. He’d been a sitting duck when it sailed past him, completely lost in a conversation with Anksa. Surely any assassin that favored the bow could not miss such an easy target? “But I don’t think this was meant to kill me.”

Anska snorted. “Seriously, Cain? It only missed you by a few inches.”

“That’s just the thing – it missed. And why carve identifiable letters into the shaft? No, I think this is a message for us. We need to decipher it”

“Sorry, love, but I think you’re reaching for something that isn’t there,” said Anska.

LInneá looked back and forth between them. “Love?” she asked. “Since when do y- oh…I almost forgot about your meeting with Mara. Kinda miffed I never got to meet her, if I’m being honest.”

“She told us it wasn’t necessary with you and Serana,” shrugged Anska. “That your love blossomed wonderfully without needing the nudge that Kirin did.”

They hadn’t mentioned Mara’s warning. Cain wanted to talk to Kyne about it first and he’d asked Anska not to say anything to his sisters either. He was hoping they wouldn’t ask to many questions about Mara, and, so far, they had been lucky.

Cain instead attempted to steer the conversation back to the arrow: “Do you think Kyne could read it?”

“Hm. Maybe,” said Linneá. “Worth a shot. I’ll reach out to her and see if she can meet you two somewhere. Ana and I won’t be able to join you – the talks are fully underway now that the Telvanni are finally here.”

“How’s it going?” inquired Anska. “Any progress?”

“Some. But I’d rather be out there with you getting shot at than sitting in meeting rooms all day.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer it if you didn’t get struck by any stray arrows, Elle,” said Serana. “You’ve got enough scars on your arm as it is.”

“Yeah, but they make for a badass story, don’t they? Who else can say the had their arm chomped on by a dragon!”

“You’re leaving out the part where you nearly died in the process.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let me,” Linneá winked. “Oh, hang on a sec…” She trailed off and closed her eyes in concentration. A few seconds later she turned to Cain and Anska: “Right then, Kyne will meet you in the same park she did yesterday. Give her a hug from us.”

Linneá and Serana took their leave to let Cain and Anska freshen up for the day. They were on their own again for breakfast, but they’d spotted plenty of places nearby to eat at during their walks around the city the day before. It was around mid-morning when they left the embassy and took a stroll down the street, excited to meet up with their goddess and to show here the arrow. But Cain had a bad feeling about the other subject they needed to bring up.

Kyne awaited them in the same clearing, disguised once again as dunmer. She hugged them both and started to ask how everything had gone when Anska jumped in headlong.

“We talked about it yesterday, ma’am, and we want you to make the link!”

An odd look stole across Kyne’s face and it quickly turned into something resembling disappointment. “I’m surprised at you two. And not in a good way, mind you. Do you really think my sister wouldn’t have spoken to me about it, too?”

“Um,” Anska began.

“No, don’t bother trying to justify it,” admonished Kyne, “she has her reasons for warning against it and I agree with them completely.”

“What reason could she possibly –“

“I wish I could tell you, dear, but I can’t. Mara has a unique way of seeing how the tides of love ebb and flow and we can’t act against it any more than we can act against the flow of time. The offer is no longer on the table and I ask that you forget I ever mentioned it.”

“That’s bullshit!” snapped Anska heatedly. “You can’t just tempt us like that and then leave us hung out to dry! Do you realize how much I longed for – “
“Drop it, Anska,” Cain warned her. “We can’t argue with her. Let’s talk about it later, okay?”

Anska was still seething, but she quit protesting and left the clearing. Her footsteps faded into the quiet woods, leaving Cain alone with the goddess. For her part, Kyne looked genuinely upset about how everything had gone so far. She brushed a few tears away from her eyes and cleared her throat.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Cain. I wish I could have helped you two.”

“I appreciate that, but we don’t need the help, mum. Anska and I love each other and that’s all that matters. She’ll come around.”

Kyne smiled at him. “Love, huh? I’m glad to hear you say that, and it makes me feel a little better about all of this. Now, then…show me this mysterious arrow. Linn said it has Ayleid inscriptions on it? I’m a little rusty with that language, but I’m sure I can parse it out.”

Cain pulled the arrow out of his bag and handed it to her. Kyne examined it for a few minutes, her brow furrowing as she tried to decipher the smaller carvings and make sense of which way the words were meant to be read. Some of the characters were strange to her, forcing Kyne to skip over them and hope it could be pieced together.

“Well, some of these letters are odd – I think their language may have evolved over the last few thousand years – but I can read most of it.”

“I can’t believe they’re actually still around,” said Cain. “Never thought I’d get mixed up with Ayleids.”

“Oh, they are definitely still hiding in the denser regions of the Blackwood,” said Kyne. “Locals there refer to them as the ‘Wild Elves’. She returned the arrow to him and called out to Anska, who returned in short order but refused to meet Kyne’s eyes. “You two better head back to the embassy and pack up. A tribe wants to meet you.”

“Meet us?” asked Cain. “Where?”

“In the Velothi mountains, due east of Cheydinal. You’ve got one hell of a walk ahead of you!”

This post has been edited by Kane: Apr 28 2025, 03:45 PM