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 XXXV – Shattered


Cain and Anska had just stepped out into the hallway when a voice called out for them once again. This time it was Linneá flagging them down, with a familiar young elf in tow. The young one stared at Cain with wide eyes, looking slightly apprehensive at his presence.

“Well, you two certainly look much better after a bath and a stout breakfast,” approved Linneá. She bent over and pick up Salihn, holding her close while she properly introduced them for the first time. “You remember this little devil, don’t you? Cain, Anska: meet Salihn. She’s been staying with Serana and I for a little bit now while she acclimates to her new life. Salihn, this is your Uncle Cain and Auntie Anska. Do you remember them from when we found you?”

Salihn buried her face against Linneá’s blouse for a few seconds and then peeked out at them. Cain and Anska both smiled at her and gave a little wave while she looked them over. “You’re the ones I was following in the woods. I remember you seeing me but I ran off and then woke up back here.”

“You bumped into a tree, little one,” said Cain. “I found you and carried you back with me, and then my sisters took you home.”

Linneá lowered her back to the floor and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “Are you my family now, too?” asked Salihn, her innocent eyes staring hopefully at them.

“Of course we are,” said Anska, kneeling down to meet her at eye level. “We’ll try to be the best aunt and uncle you’ll ever have.”

“Yay!” squealed Salihn, throwing herself into Anska’s waiting arms. They hugged tightly for a moment at the same time Cain caught Linneá’s eye and saw her brush away a happy tear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have guessed his sisters were well on the way to adopting the orphaned Ayleid as their own daughter, and he couldn’t be happier for them. Their family was growing, bit by bit.

Anska let go of Salihn who then gave Cain a hug too, before Linneá grabbed her hand and led her off in search of Sybille. “I’ll catch up with you in dad’s study, just gotta let Sybille look after the munchkin while we’re in there.”

They waved goodbye to Salihn again and then trudged off towards the upper reaches of the Blue Palace. “You saw it too, didn’t you?” Anska asked him. “The way Linn was doting on her, I mean. I think Salihn wormed her way into your sister’s heart, Cain. Looks like we’ll all be parents soon!”

“Couldn’t miss it,” he nodded. “Do you think we should tell everyone this morning? About your, er, condition?”

“My ‘condition’”? said Anska, rolling her eyes. “That’s seriously how you put it?” I’m pregnant you daft fool, I’m not dying.”

“I know, I know,” chuckled Cain.

“And yes, I do think we should tell them. I nearly blurted it out twice already! Once to Linn and Serana, and then again to Lydia.”

“Today’s the day, then!”

Cain threw his arm around her shoulder and they walked side-by-side up through the now bustling corridors of their cozy home. Palace staff came and went, performing their usual upkeep on the expansive home to Skyrim’s High King. Guards patrolled up and down the wide stone hallways, checking rooms and closets while they went. Cain noticed there were more about than usual, most likely due to the possible attack Anilay had warned them of a few nights ago.

Eventually, they found themselves outside of Kirin’s study, idling nervously. It had been so long since the last time he’d seen his father, and so much had changed. Cain took a few deep breaths while Anska tried to flatten the creases of the cloth fringes lining her cuirass plate. “Are you ready?” she asked him.

“Ready as I’m going to be,” said Cain. He reached for the door knob and gave it a turn. The door was unlocked, so he swung it open and together they stepped into the room, wondering how long this debrief would last.

“There you are!” yelled Kirin. “About time you two sauntered up here to see me!” He came around the desk and Cain found himself in another embrace. The fifth one of the day, and it was barely mid-morning. Kirin released him and offered a hug to Anska, too, who happily accepted it. “And I hear you are going to be my daughter!” Then he stepped back and looked gravely at Cain’s fiancé. “Words can’t begin to express how sorry I am for what we put you through, Anska. Neither of you deserved that.”

“It’s fine, really,” said Anska, brushing away a tear. “The girls made a mistake and they apologized at the first chance they got. I’ve forgiven them and it’s time to move on.”

“You’re wise beyond your years, lass,” said Kirin. “And I’ll expect you to keep my son in line, yeah?”

“Oh, he’s helpless, I’m afraid,” laughed Anska.

Cain shook his head sighed while he sat down in one of the chairs facing across Kirin’s desk, waiting patiently for others to join them. Little had changed since they were last here, having a small get-together late at night before leaving for Stonehills and ultimately Blacklight. He remembered the feeling of anticipation at getting out into the world again but had never dreamed of where it would take he and Anska.

She sat down next to him and Kirin took the seat opposite, staring curiously at him. “Everything alright, son?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” answered Cain. “Just reminiscing a little.”

Their conversation was interrupted when the door opened again and this time Linneá and Serana entered and took the other two seats near Lydia’s empty chaise. Kirin nodded at them and addressed the former first. “Did you take care of the item?”

“Yep! The orb is safely stashed away at Elysium until we figure out what to do with it.”

“If I may,” said Cain. “Anilay suggested we promptly destroy it and I’m inclined to agree with him. That thing is too powerful of an object to risk falling into the wrong hands again.”

“And we will,” promised Serana. “As soon as we figure out how to destroy a Daedric artifact. That’s not an easy task to carry out.”

“If anyone can figure that out, it will be you two,” said Kirin. “See if Kyne can help out somehow when she returns.”

“Returns?” asked Anska. “Where did she go?”

“Some kind of council meeting in Aetherius. She wouldn’t say what for, but she’s never made us privy to the musings of the other Divines. And for good reason, too. The less we know of what goes on beyond our realm, the better.”

Cain was about to ask his father a question regarding communication with Anilay when an odd noise echoed up the long hallway leading to the study. Glancing at the others to see if they heard it too, he got up from his seat and pulled the door open, straining his ears to pick out the source. All was mostly quiet, and he was about to sit back down when he heard it again.

A panicked scream, coming from somewhere deep in the palace.

“Something is going on,” he said to the others. “Fan out and search for anything out of the ordinary.” Liineá and Serana took the lead and darted out of sight while Anska joined Cain’s side. He looked back at Kirin: “You should stay here, dad. Keep the door locked until we figure out what’s going on.”

“The hell I will,” growled Kirin. “You are all under my protection and I’ll damn well help defend my home!” The High King grabbed his trusty runic sword from its plaque on the wall and followed them out of the room.

More screams could be heard in the distance, causing them to double their pace. Guards started darting to and fro in search of the commotion, and one of them came running up to the Kirin, panting heavily from exertion. “My lord! We’re under attack! Brigands are pouring in the front doors and up from the tunnel systems!”

“Brigands?” said Kirin. “They aren’t organized enough to pull off a stunt like this. You must be mistaken, captain!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said the Captain. “But they certainly are wearing the armor of brigands. They’re all draped in hides and shoddy iron cuirasses, swinging pitted swords about and yelling wildly. Some were even slinging around destruction spells with ill regard!”

“I don’t like it,” Cain frowned. “This screams of someone trying to couch a coordinated invasion under the guise of some sort of bandit uprising. I think we finally pissed off Mede too much and he executed his plan before the Elder Council could intervene.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Kirin. “And he’ll come to regret this cowardly move. Captain, have you seen my wife recently?”

“Aye, sir. She was down near the main kitchen with Sybille and the elf girl not five minutes ago.”

Cain turned to Anska shot her an imploring look. “Please go find my mother and get them to safety. Stuff them in a larder or hide them in a wardrobe – just get them out of harm’s way!”

Anska nodded, recognizing that she couldn’t argue her way out of this one. Her fiancé was heir to the throne and he had a duty to defend the palace with his father. It was an order this time, not a suggestion. “I love you,” she whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she plucked her waraxe free from her belt and darted down the hall to the nearest stairwell.

“Captain, rally the men and get the palace staff to safety,” ordered Kirin. “My family will make quick work of these invaders, but do what you can to capture a few of them, too. We’ll need to confirm their true identities when this is over.”

The captain moved off and together the High King and his son headed towards the public areas of the Blue Palace, growing closer and closer to the terrible sounds of battle. They crashed through a heavy door into the throne room and were stunned to see the number of attackers filling the lofty space, with more coming in the front doors. At least a score had fallen already to the capable guards defending the throne, but more were well on the way. Cain was about to leap over the banister and join the fray when a powerfully magickal inferno buffeted towards the Blue Palace entrance and immolated the brigands who had been clawing their way through.

Linneá scurried through the mayhem and sealed the doors with a spell before spinning on her heels and diving back into the fray, her dark tanto slashing and thrusting while she unleashed spell after spell on the poorly matched brutes.

“I think she’s got this,” grinned Kirin. “Come, let’s find Serana and see if she needs help. I’d bet anything she is down near the tunnel and sewer entrances.”

They backtracked further into the depths of the palace, descending staircase after staircase. The occasional attacker who’d made it past the initial battle scenes stood before them but were no match for the two seasoned warriors and Dragonborns. Guards were moving about everywhere they looked, ushering staff members and the rare civilian to safe holding rooms and guarding the doors with their lives.

Down and down they went, dispatching more brigands along the way until finally Cain and Kirin reached the bottom floor. Kicking open a heavy door to the main passageway, it was Cain’s turn to grin at the sight that greeted them. Serana’s distinct silhouette was encircled with a thunderous cloak of storms, and both of her hands were summoning ahoard of undead minions, and reanimating fallen soldiers to rejoin the battle. A few palace guards ringed around her for protection but it seemed like there was little for them to do. A score of bodies already lined the hall between them and the tunnel entrance Cain had been brought through the night he learned of his place in the world.

“We aren’t need here, either,” said Cain. “Let’s go check the gardens.”

“Good idea,” said Kirin. “Lead on, my son!”

Back up the stairs they went, heading for the serene palace gardens far above their heads. As a testament to the power of his sisters and the capability of the guards, Cain noticed that fewer and fewer attackers seemed to be crashing down corridors and into rooms. It was only the rare stragglers they cut down now, but the din of another battle could soon be heard ahead of them.

“It sounds like they need help in the gardens after all,” shouted Kirin, picking up his pace. Cain followed suite and they bolted outside to discover the guard contingent being pushed back by invaders that had somehow scaled the walls.

At the sight of their king, the guards rallied around him and regrouped to press forward the attack. Cain and Kirin simultaneously invoked their imposing Dragon Aspect shout, the echo of dual Thu’ums thundering through the air around them and striking fear into the hearts of the attackers. Together, the father and son led the counterattack and all who stood before them were driven back without quarter. Their swords blurred through the air with the unnatural speed and strength of the Shout imbuing their spirits, and within a few minutes every last brigand lay dead on the ground.

The guards cheered and roared battle cries in glory of their victory while Cain and Kirin sheathed their swords and dispelled their fearsome Thu’um aspects. A lieutenant from the dwindled ranks stepped forward and asked what their next orders would be.

“Secure the perimeter and then go assist whoever you can with keeping the staff safe,” ordered Kirin. “My daughters have the entry points contained. Cain and I will comb the palace for stragglers.”

“Aye, sir,” saluted the lieutenant.

They stepped back inside just in time to catch another guard running full tilt down the hallway in search of the King. “There you are, milord. The captain sent me with news – the attack has been broken and the remaining invaders are being rounded up. The city guard is here now too, they’re turning the city upside down to root out any escapees.”

“Excellent news!” shouted Kirin, clapping him heartily on the back. “Did we take any prisoners?”

“Yes, sir. There are reports from other guards on the scene that Mrs. Serana unleashed some sort of wide-range paralysis spell down below. She had to cast the counter-spell on some of our own men, but early numbers estimate at least a dozen attackers were captured and quickly dragged off to the holding cells.”

“That certainly sounds like something she would do,” mused Cain. “What of the queen and her elf charge?” Cain stayed silent while the guard directed his answer to Kirin. In the heat of battle, he’d never thought to probe for Anska to see how she was faring. The adrenaline subsiding, he suddenly found himself fraught with worry.

Did you find them? he reached out. No answer came for a few long seconds and just when he was about to try again more forcefully, he heard her whispered answer.

Cain, I… they’re safe.

His insides froze. Something was wrong and the connection to her felt weak. Where are you?!

Storeroom next to… the… the kitchens. Please hurry, my love. I.. did my best to keep them safe… I need to see you. Please.

“We need to go,” Cain said to his father. “Now. Anska found mum and Salihn but there’s something wrong.”

Hurry, please, came a weak plea from his fiancé.

Anska, take off your ring and toss it away. I can recall to it! Anska? ANSKA?

She didn’t respond and Cain began to panic. With no other option, he grabbed Kirin’s hand and casted the spell, vanishing from the upper reaches of the Blue Palace and rematerializing in a cellar far below. They were standing in a large pantry filled with the bodies of at least fifteen dead brigands. Blood and gore coated every surface and the stench of death nearly doubled them over. A frantic weeping sound came from behind Cain and he spun around to find Lydia kneeling next to Anska.

The head of her waraxe had snapped clean off of the handle and laid on the floor next to her. Anska’s armor was destroyed - torn apart by countless sword strokes, and bludgeoned by fearsome maces, and blood seemed to be oozing from every visible part of her body. Kirin pulled his wife up to her feet and moved her away to let his son take her place.

“What happened?!” Kirin asked Lydia, gently shaking her shoulders to garner her attention.

“She… she found us after some strangers chased us down the hall,” sobbed Lydia. “Anska barred herself in here with us and refused to let any of the monsters lay a finger on me or Salihn. I hid the girl in the cabinet there and tried to help but I was unarmed and there were so many of them!” She put her head in her hands and continued weeping, unable to go on for the time being.

Cain had knelt down next to Anska and was probing her thoughts while he looked over her grievous wounds, and he felt hot tears running unchecked down his own face. Years of training in the Fighter’s Guild allowed him to recognize that no amount of potions or healing spells could replace the amount of blood she’d already lost and continued to lose. He felt the world crashing down around him as he stared helplessly at his dying fiancé and their unborn child. Leaning forward, he cradled Anska’s bruised head and blood-matted hair in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Then he felt her shift slightly, causing him to immediately let go and search her feature for signs of life. Her eyelids fluttered open and the beautiful brown orbs that had first enchanted him in Stonehills looked weakly back at him.

“You… you made it,” she said, her voice scratchy and barely audible. “There were too… too many of them. Are Lydia and…”

“Yes, they’re okay,” breathed Cain. “Hon, I… I can’t…”

“I know. You can’t help me. Just kiss me one last time, please.”

He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss, afraid to pull back. When he finally did, she smiled warmly at him. “I love you so much, Cain. We’ll see each other again one day in Sovngarde.” Her eyes closed again and Cain placed a hand on her chest, just as a final heartbeat thudded against his palm.