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 XXVI – The Road Less Traveled


The first thing different that Anska noticed was a faint smell of salt in the breeze that gently caressed her soot covered face. She opened her eyes and the sight took her breath away – they were sitting on a grassy clifftop, staring out over an endless expanse of calm waters. Waves lapped calmly against the rocky shore far below while blue skies and a warm sun soared over the Abecean Sea.

Cain stood up first and started taking a rough inventory of their belongings. His bag had been left behind, lying in the ashy soil, but thankfully Anska’s was still strapped to her back. They would need the supplies until the journey south to Anvil could be completed. He was busy checking the straps on his scabbard when Anska patted the ground next to her.

“Just sit with me for a while,” she implored of him. “They can’t follow us here, right? We can take ten minutes to breathe.”

She was right, and so Cain stopped his restless preparations and sat back down in the grass. Anska leaned her head against his shoulders while new tears streaked down her cheeks, but neither one of them spoke for a few moments. Finally, it was Anska who voiced what they had both been wrestling with.

“I can’t believe they think I’m a Thalmor agent. I don’t understand what I possibly could have said or done to make them think I’m anything but a true Nord, just like they are.” She sniffled a little bit and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “We had so much fun together since I met them – your sisters felt like my own, and I had a family again for the first time in over a decade.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” promised Cain. “There has to be an explanation. Or something they missed.”

“I’m grateful you stood up for me, Cain,” said Anska, “But how the [censored] are we supposed to do that? Not like we can just waltz into the Blue Palace and start rifling through people’s belongings. Where even are we anyway?”

Cain gazed out over the sea in momentary silence while he aimlessly ran his fingers through Anska’s hair. This was the only place far enough away from Skyrim that he felt a strong enough connection to. In their brief time together, Linneá had told him all about recalling to places that may have been unconsciously marked, provided the attachment was strong enough. This was certainly one of those places. He pulled out his short dagger and began to trim away the tall grasses in front of them until a small stone plaque revealed itself to them.

“We’re on the Gold Coast, about half a day’s walk north of Anvil,” he said.

Anska looked down at the plaque in surprise, wondering why it was buried in the tall golden grasses that gave the coastline its name. The stone was barely worn and it bore a small inscription:


[centre]Ariessa Janeel
4E 175 – 4E 229
“There is power untold in the simplest of all that we know. Love.”[/centre]



“Oh, Cain… I’m sorry you had to come back here.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his midsection and remained silent. Their connection allowed her to feel the turmoil of emotions in his mind, and she was satisfied to just offer her comfort until he was ready to talk about it.

Nearly eight months had came and went since Ariessa was laid to rest. Cain had found some measure of solace in his new family and come to love them all, even accepting Lydia as a mother, but he knew he’d never forget Ariessa. The pain of losing his birth mother had become just bearable enough to live with before he left for Skyrim, and then he met the others: Kirin, Lydia, Linneá, Serana, Kyne, and most importantly…. Anska. Suddenly, life had felt whole again and he was content to remember the happy times in Anvil and nothing more.

Now he just had Anska. But she was more than enough.

He touched the plaque with a gloved hand and said a prayer to Arkay before speaking again. “It was the only place safe enough that I could think of. They won’t find us here. I don’t even know if Kyne can find us here, unless we pray to her.” He got back to his feet and helped Anska do the same. “We should find somewhere to wash up and then head for the city. We can probably make it before sundown.”

“What will we do after that, love?” asked Anska. “We’re so far from home and we have so little gold left…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Cain winked. “After I sold the house and signed up for the trip to Skyrim, I withdrew the modest earnings I made during my time with the guild from the local bank and buried a nest egg on the outskirts of Anvil. Gold, weapons, armors, clothing, and travel gear; anything that I wouldn’t have been able to take with me. We’ll have to buy you a new set of armor to help blend in, but the city has a wonderful smithy.”

“Digging around in the dirt and a shopping trip?” grinned Anska. “Sounds like a date.”


[centre]-----[/centre]


Linneá and Serana sat in two comfortable chairs at Kirin’s desk, fidgeting nervously. Their father was staring out the window of his study and he hadn’t said a word in response since they explained what had happened in the ruined Ayleid village. Lydia had taken the small elf child off to get cleaned up and fed after she calmed down. The sudden arrival in the palace had proven too much for the poor girl and she’d broken down into hysterical sobs at the sight of all the strangers.

When he finally looked back at them, Kirin’s face was a mask of cold fury. “How could you two have been so careless? You knew what was at stake and now look what’s happened! We have nothing to show for this! My son is gone! Gone! And we have no way of finding him!”

“Um. At least we confirmed the Thalmor are behind all of this,” offered Linneá, timidly. “We know for certain they slaughtered that entire village.”

“Small comfort,” Kirin snorted. “But now their agent is beyond our reach, doing gods know what with your brother. All we can do now is hope they make a mistake, however unlikely that may be.” He sat back down at his desk and breathed deeply for a moment to center himself. He felt slightly ashamed by his outburst and offered them an apology. “I’m sorry, girls. This has been tough for everyone, and we all wear our hearts on our sleeves. I wouldn’t change that for the world, even if it does throw the occasional wrench into the gears.”

“We’re sorry, da,” said Linneá.

“And we will find them,” promised Serana. “Whatever it takes.”

“I know you will,” said Kirin. “You two can do anything you set your minds to. You said you’re meeting Kyne tomorrow night back home? Good, ask her to help you as much as she can. We need to find them.”

Linneá nodded and together they left the king’s private study, heading for their own bedroom and the promise of clean clothes. Their outfits were filthy with soot from the ruined village and their pale faces were darkened from the ash as well. Pulling off the garments, they washed each other down with damp cloths before donning more appropriate palatial garb and walking downstairs to their personal library.

Sitting on a plush chaise, Serana flipped through the pages of a book on modern alchemical recipes while Linneá laid with her head resting in her wife’s lap. Something was eating at her and it was only a matter of time before Serana picked up on it.

A very brief matter of time, as it turned out to be.

“I’m starting to feel those doubts, too, my love,” she reassured Linneá. Setting her book down on an end table, she focused her attention on the uneasy face looking up at her. “Cain was so certain that Anska is innocent and he had a very valid point: their minds are linked, just like ours. I doubt she has the telepathical acumen to hide something like that from him.”

“We had to have missed something,” sighed Linneá. “In hindsight, it feels too easy, ya know? Like Anska was offered up on a silver platter for us. Did you see the look on her face when I accused her? I think I broker her heart right then and there.”

A teardrop fell from Serana’s eyes and splashed softly on Linneá’s cheek. “I think we did the same to Cain, too, Elle. They loved us and they trusted us…and we let them down. We jumped right to the easiest conclusion just because it was presented with a gleaming silver bow on it.”

Linneá reached up and brushed way the other tears forming at the corners of Serana’s vibrant blue eyes. She shifted her body to a sitting position and leaned against her wife’s chest. A new resolve was building within them, bolstered by the deep connection of their inextricably connected minds. A wrong needed to be righted and they wouldn’t rest until it was.

Kyne will be able to help us, Serana thought to her. She always has.

I know, dear. But just to be safe…let’s keep this to ourselves. It’s time to play our own ruse and set a snare. Keep pretending that we’re all in on Anska as the guilty party. That’ll give us some breathing room.


[centre]-----[/centre]


“Do you really think we have to go this far?”

“We can’t take any chances,” replied Cain. “Kyne seemed like she was in agreement with my sisters and I don’t want to risk her being able to track us down and summon them again. It won’t go well and I doubt Cyrodiil is ready for a clash between two Dragonborns.”

“It won’t come to that…will it?”

“I refuse to let them take you.”

Anska relented and moved out of his way. They were standing in front of the main altar within Anvil’s Chapel to Dibella, staring nervously at the simple raised dais blanketed with splendid red linens trimmed with gold. Most of their trip southwards, had been spent arguing over whether or not this was the right thing to do and now Cain was beginning to have his own doubts.

Sensing his hesitation, Anska kissed him and rested a soft hand on his cheek. “Hey. I appreciate how devoted you are to protecting me, but if you don’t feel right about this you don’t have to go through with it.”

Cain kissed her back and gently clasped her hand in his own. “No, it needs to be done. We can’t have her looking over our shoulders.”

“It’s a little late for that,” came a soft voice from behind them.

They spun around in alarm and nearly tripped over each other in surprise. Kyne stood behind them in her usual shimmering azure robes, smiling coyly at Cain and Anska. Unwilling to be interrupted, the goddess waved her hand towards the chapel doors, sealing them tightly against any would-be worshippers. She then took a seat on one of the stone benches just off of the altar and patted the empty spaces next to her.

“Come sit,” she instructed, “we have to figure out a way to untangle this web.”

“How did you find us here?” asked Cain, standing fast with Anska.

“You’re in one of my sister’s most prominent temples, my child. Did you really think she wouldn’t tell me right away?”

Anska sighed heavily and took the spot on Kyne’s right. Seeing no alternative, Cain followed suit but took the spot opposite of his maiden.

“Now, then” began Kyne, “let’s talk about you returning to Solitude.”

“No,” said Cain, flatly. “No way in hell do we go back there right now, Kyne. I will not let anyone put their grubby hands on Anska, no matter how much [censored] proof they think they have. We’re staying far away until we can get to the bottom of this and I beg of you to leave us be. Do not bring my sisters to us again.”

Kyne stared at Cain with raised eyebrows and it seemed her green eyes were piercing right through him. So much had changed so quickly and now he spoke defiantly to the goddess he once revered and looked up to like the mothering figure she was. And she could sense the very same resolve emanating from Anska, the woman at the center of all this strife. But Kyne could not pretend his words or his intent to sever his faith to her did not wound her greatly.

“Very well,” she said. “Please do not forsake me though, Cain. Dibella is a wonderful little sister and a loving Divine, but she cannot love you as I do. Your entire family is special to me and they always will be. Remain in my service and I promise I will keep your whereabouts a secret.”

Cain was about to speak, but Anska piped up instead. “Kyne?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Do you honestly believe I would do what I’ve been accused of? Is it not enough that Cain defends and supports me so steadfastly? I can tell by the way you’ve danced around the topic that you still doubt me.”

“Linneá and Serana made a convincing case, Anska,” said Kyne, regretfully. “I wished I could believe otherwise.”

“I thought as much,” said Anska, brushing away fresh tears. “I wish you could understand how painful this has been for me. It was nice to have a family again, if only for a short while. And I loved having sisters after growing up an only child and ultimately an orphan.”

Rising from the bench, Cain slid over to the opposite side of the goddess and wrapped his arms around Anska. He comforted her as best he could, and then glanced over at Kyne.

“I think you should go for now.”

Kyne bowed her head sadly but before she could leave, Anska extricated herself from Cain and grabbed the goddess by the hand. “No, please don’t go yet. I – I want, no, I need you to believe that I’m not that person, Kyne. I can’t bear this. Any of this. If I didn’t have Cain I probably would have thrown myself over a cliff and ended it all.”

“Anska, please just breathe,” said Kyne. “What would you have me – “

“I offer you my mind, ma’am. I know you can connect with others as Cain and I have linked ourselves. I give you permission to enter my own. You can explore my entire being down to the deepest depths. You can know everything about me, and I don’t care what you’ll find or what you’ll see. But I promise you will find nothing to do with this double-agent bullshit. Then you will know that I’m not sort of traitorous bitch.”