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

[Kane]

EPUB Version: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cJB9nlIIVM...iew?usp=sharing

MOBI Version: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kX1VB1-iud...?usp=drive_link

PDF Version: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PHHvETcUim...?usp=drive_link


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 XXXVIII �" From Past to Present


(Four months ago…)

Cain swayed dangerously atop a steep cliff face high in the mountains outside of Evermore. It had been an arduous trek up a rocky path in pursuit of a brigand who’d been terrorizing a local village tucked away among the lofty peaks of eastern High Rock. The job paid well and the poorly trained target had been trivial for Cain to eliminate, but the hunt had run into nightfall and so he decided to set up camp for the night in lieu of returning to the village.

The dead man he’d chased down had a backpack full of stolen mead from a local brewery. How he acquired it was likely one of the many reasons a bounty had been incurred, but Cain started helping himself to it nonetheless. Nearly six months had passed since that fateful morning in the Blue Palace and his heart still ached over her death, and he wished for nothing more than to hear Anska whisper in his head once again. The night wore on, and he polished off the remainder of a fifth bottle and chucked it over the precipice.

Alcohol helped dull the pain, but in a past life he’d been wise enough to know that it only offered temporary solace. For six months Cain had been on his own, always on the move and bouncing from menial jobs to meaningless tasks at the behest of whoever ran the tavern he found himself in at any given time. The mead became more and more enticing while the rabbit hole deepened. His thoughts grew darker and darker every day and eventually he stopped being careful when dealing with the louts he often tracked down.

And now he stood on that looming cliff while the mead drove those familiar dark thoughts to the forefront. He looked down at the rocky crags far below and wondered if he’d feel anything at all when his drunken mind and body lay broken and bloodied across them. Would it be a release from misery? Would he finally see his beloved Anska again? Or we he simply cease to be alive? Dead, but alone. Turned away from the fated realm of Sovngarde by a cowardly act.

He looked down and found that at this moment, after months of anguish and self-torment… he didn’t care anymore. A sixth bottle was drained and slipped from his fingers to join the other five far below. Cain lifted a leg to step forward and follow the bottle to its doom when he suddenly found himself rigid, his body bound in place by a swirl of green magicks that slowly dragged him back from the ledge. He turned to look for the source and just barely saw the flashing hilt of a dagger before it crashed into his head and knocked him unconscious.

It was morning when he finally came to. A warm fire crackled merrily next to him but someone had bound his hands and feet with rough cords that bit and itched at his skin. Looking around, he saw a hooded figure sitting nearby. It was dressed in tattered robes and there were strange runes etched into its skin that Cain swore were glowing in the soft sunlight of dawn. He was just starting to struggle against the bindings when he realized something was different… the fog was gone from his mind. It was as if weeks and weeks of inebriated thoughts had simply vanished, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t crave another bottle the moment he woke up.

The initial rustling from his struggle garnered his rescuer’s attention and the diminutive form of a woman now stood over him. She regarded him curiously for a few seconds before kneeling down and severing the bindings from his wrists and ankles. Cain sat up and addressed her immediately.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “What have you done to me?”

“You could try being grateful,” said the woman. “A simple ‘thanks’ would be a good start. I could have let you die and taken the bounty for myself, with none the wiser. And I definitely didn’t need to purge all that booze from your system.”

Then it all came back to him: the mead, the dark thoughts, and a hazy memory of having one foot off the cliff and nearly plummeting to his death. Had he really been that close to ending it all? The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but he always shook it off as just the alcohol talking. And now that his mind was somehow cleared, the enormity of how far gone he was smashed into him like a ton of bricks.

“Oh, gods,” said Cain, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is what I’ve become.”

“Still waiting for that ‘thank you.”

Cain sighed. This person reminded him very much of his sister, whom he’d begun to miss quite a lot. “Thank you,” he said to her. “Whoever the hell you are,” he added.

“Name’s Gwyn. And you owe me for the help, and for the bounty you stole, Mr. Windborne.”

“Wait, how in the world do you know who I am?” he asked in surprise. “I’m very certain I didn’t tell you, nor that we’ve ever met before!”

“You’re the High King of Skyrim’s only son, idiot. Believe it or not, people outside of that frigid place know who you are, they’re usually just too busy with inane bullshit to put two and two together. What I really want to know is why the hell you are all the way out here, and why you tried to off yourself last night.”

“That’s my business, not yours. Why did you save me, anyway?”

“That’s my business, not yours,” came the mocking reply.

He looked at her for a few seconds and felt himself smile despite all that had happened in the last day. This woman had no reason nor any responsibility to do what she had done last night, yet she had saved his life anyway. And here he was, expecting answers from her when he refused to give any himself. Then he felt his stomach growl, and decided he would rustle up something to eat first. Opening his bag, Cain fished out a loaf of bread and started toasting the outside of it over the fire while he answered Gwyn’s questions.

“Okay, fair is fair,” he said. “Lemme see here… hm. You say you recognized me, yeah? Did you also hear anything about an attack towards the end of last year?”

“You mean when your wife was killed?” she asked him bluntly. “Sorry, that was insensitive. It’s obvious that you aren’t over that.”

“Fiancé, but yes,” said Cain, dabbing at the corner of his eyes. “And our unborn child, which wasn’t advertised. I left shortly after that to be alone for a while, which in hindsight was probably a mistake. My family would have been more helpful than the mead was, I think.”

“The mead isn’t the problem, Cain, it just exacerbated things for you. We all have trauma and we all deal with it in different ways. The world is a [censored] up place full of [censored] up people, just like us. You need to come to terms with her death and either move on or do something else about it.”

"You speak as if that comes from a place of experience,” probed Cain. “Did you �" “

She cut him off quickly: “Uh uh. No. I’m not the suicidal one here, and we aren’t talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. Last night, I saw the heir to Skyrim’s throne try to kill himself while in a drunken stupor. I used a handy spell to purge the booze from your system so that I could speak to the real you, but the desire for self-harm is still in there, despite the better mood you seem to be in this morning. You need to address that, or you’ll just end up back in that same situation. And there might not be anyone around to save your sorry ass next time.”

That shut Cain up for a while. He wasn’t ignorant enough to deny that everything Gwyn said to him thus far was anything but the truth. She saved his life, and then thoroughly undressed his current station in life. Not a day went by that he didn’t dwell on Anska and the life that could have been, and he was slowly starting to recognize the way his soul had been damaged by his solitary grief. Cain glanced to his left and saw the bag of stolen mead still laying in the dirt next to his tent and knew what the first step needed to be.

Gwyn’s shrewd eyes followed the broken man as he picked up the bag and tossed it over the cliff without hesitation. Maybe he’s not beyond help, she thought to herself. He walked back over to the fire and resumed eating his meager breakfast with a new light in his eyes.

“Hurry up and eat, yeah?” said Gwyn. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until you collect my bounty.”

Cain rolled his eyes. “Bark all you want, but we both know this isn’t about the gold anymore. You saved my life and then you stuck around to peel me apart and see what I would do. No, I think you’ve been on your own for a long time, too, and now you’ve found some whose problems remind you of your own.”

“Like you have any idea �"“

“Said it yourself, miss: the world is full of [censored] up people, just like us. Something tells me we can help each other, or you’d have already left.”

-----

(Present day…)

Cain and Gwyn stepped out onto the street in front of the Cloudy Dregs Inn and looked around in confusion. Wayrest had been relatively quiet the day before, despite the massacre of bandits that had taken place in a boarded-up house near the waterfront. Now, everyone was clamoring around market stands and vendor stalls, pointing at something and chattering excitedly. Gwyn motioned for him to say there and she ducked off quickly to see what the commotion was all about.

Not thirty seconds later, she returned to his side with a copy of the morning newspaper and shoved it into his hands. “You need to get us out of here now! Before someone recognizes you!” she hissed at him. He looked down at the paper and the headline nearly took his breath away.

Emperor Titus Mede II Found Guilty of Treasonous Sedition by the Elder Council!

“I don’t see what…” His eyes scanned down further down the page and stopped near the bottom. The article barely mentioned the attack on the Blue Palace that lead to his forced abdication, but sure enough, it included detailed renditions of his entire family. The familiar faces of Kirin, Lydia, Linneá, Serana, himself, and his late fiancé stared up at him. “Oh, bother. It really does look just like me.”

“Let’s go before you draw a crowd! If word gets out that you’re in High Rock, the royal families will all be searching for you to garner favor with you dad!”

“[censored],” muttered Cain, tossing the paper aside. “Okay, let’s go back inside. We can tell the bartender I left something in my room and I’ll teleport us out from there. No one will see us vanish, and… oh… oh no…”

“What’s wrong now?” asked Gwyn. “What the hell are you �"“

“Top of the house, just across the way,” he whispered.

Gwyn discreetly stole a peek at the aforementioned home but she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. An old woman was out front pruning a rose bush while her husband swept off the flagstone walkway leading to the front door. She was about to ask Cain what he was on about when she noticed the large brown hawk perched on the gable, staring right at them.

“Holy [censored],” said Gwyn. “That’s Kyne, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh,” gulped Cain. “Linn must have broken the news bright and early if she’s already here.”

“What do we do now?!”

“Doesn’t matter. She’ll be able to follow us anywhere, so brace yourself to meet a Divine.”

They hurried back inside and asked the bartender to the room key again. The surly old man refused to let them have it without paying and instead walked down the hall to unlock it for them. Thankfully, he went back to work and left Cain and Gwyn to their own devices. The former shut the door and locked it, put a hand on the latter’s shoulder, and quietly magicked them away to a small cabin tucked away on the Glenumbra Moors.

The unassuming home of Gwyndala Louvain consisted of a single room with an earthen floor. In one corner stood a set of bunk beds, with the top bunk having served as Cain’s home for the last three months. A small fireplace with a cooking spit stood in the center of the eastern wall, the mantle adorned with several oddly shaped hats, and a smattering of dishes and cutlery. Every other square foot of space was crammed with heaping piles of musty old tomes, tables and shelves crowded with alchemy ingredients and enchanting supplies, far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.

As soon as they materialized, she began scooting about in a vain attempt to straighten up her haphazard little home. Cain sat down and watched with a bemused expression, trying his best not to laugh at the sight of Gwyn stuffing clothes into various sacks and overflowing drawers.

“You could help, you know!” she scolded.

“There’s no point,” said Cain. “Mum isn’t going to care about how messy this place is �" she judges people by their spirit, not by material possessions or lack of organizational skills.”

Gwyn huffed angrily and stood up to lob a pair of dirty stockings at him, when her mouth dropped open and she stared at the doorway to her cabin. Silhouetted in the frame stood the goddess, the bright sunlight outside adding to her ethereal glow. Kyne gazed around with a raised eyebrow, taking in the eccentric abode she’d followed them to.

“You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful!” Gwyn whispered. “How the hell am I supposed to compete with that!”

“You don’t. Nor does she expect you to. Forget about any of your preconceived notions, Gwyn �" Kyne is unique and you’ll know right away what she thinks of you.”

Cain got up from his chair and tried his best to play it cool in his approach to the goddess. He wasn’t at all sure how this conversation would go; especially since he’d elected to forgo his connection to her and Akatosh after his departure from the Blue Palace. At the time, he wanted to make sure he was alone until he felt otherwise, but he’d always hoped to reconnect on his own terms.

“Er. Hey, mum,” he said, trying not to stutter. “Been a long time, huh? Listen �"“

Kyne wasn’t having it. She took a page out of Anska’s book and slapped him across the cheek for his behavior. “I don’t want to hear anything other than a sincere apology for abandoning us come out of your mouth, Cain Windborne. And then, and only then, will I consider letting you call me ‘mum’ again. For now, it’s Kyne, or ma’am, got it?”

“I didn’t abandon anyone!” protested Cain.

“The hell you didn’t,” snarled Kyne. “You needed some time alone, fine. We agreed to that and let you go in relative peace. But you had no right to sever your influence from me! Ten months, Cain! It’s been ten months, and for all we knew you were dead in a ditch somewhere! All I wanted was to keep tabs on you from afar, to make sure you were safe and healthy. I couldn’t even do that, not even for your parent’s sake! And don’t even get me started on your sister not telling me that she’s been visiting you in secret for the last six weeks! Rest assured that she and I are going to have it out soon, too! I can’t believe that you’d stand there and… and…”

She trailed off at the sight of Cain sinking to floor, broken and defeated. This was not the same strong, courageous person she had come to know. Anska’s death clearly still weighed heavily upon him, despite the passage of time and the appearance of a what Kyne guessed was a new friend. Cain picked up one of Gwyn’s frayed and patchy shirts to wipe the tears away from his eyes and then returned it to the pile.

“You’re right, ma’am,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It was selfish of me to do that. I was in a bad place and trust me when I say things did not get any better. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, and everyone else. Don’t be hard on Linneá, either �" she wanted me to come home but I’m not ready. It’s not the right time.”

The goddess felt her resolve soften, and she sat down on the floor with him. She could feel the sadness and guilt emanating from his spirit, and sensed how far he still had to go. “What’s happened, my child?” Then she gestured in Gwyn’s direction: “And, forgive me for not asking before, but who is your friend, here?”

“Oh. Right.” Cain had nearly forgotten about Gwyn during the confrontation. “I guess we can kill two birds with one stone. Kyne, meet Gwyndala Louvain,” he said, beckoning her over. “Gwyn stumbled into my life during it’s darkest hour, and stopped me from throwing myself off a cliff.”

Kyne gasped in shock at his blunt admission. Never had she dreamed that her charge would have fallen so deeply into depression, and she suddenly regretted not trying harder to find him sooner. But, his bravery in admitting such a dark thing gave her hope that Cain was on the mend, and that she would be able to help him through this.

Gwyn stood awkwardly nearby, waiting to formally meet the goddess. Kyne helped Cain to his feet and hugged him before turning to his friend. “Hello, Ms. Gwyndala. I gather Cain has already told you about me?”

“Yeah,” nodded Gwyn. “He earned my trust early on, and vice versa. Deep down, he always knew you’d catch up to him, and he didn’t want me to be caught off guard. And, just Gwyn please �" my full name is so damn formal sounding it makes me sick.”

“Very well, Gwyn,” giggled Kyne. “If Cain trusts you with this secret, then that’s good enough for me. Now then, how about we… oh my.” She paused mid-sentence and focused once again on Cain.

The Redguard had silently knelt down behind them and said a heartfelt prayer to the goddess, laced with love and gratitude for her presence in his life. Their connection of faith was restored, and it surged more powerfully than ever, allowing her a deeper look into his psyche. Beneath the pain and suffering, beneath the loneliness, and beneath the longing to return home, she touched briefly on a singular desire that drove him on with a fierce resolve. But it was only a fleeting feeling and she was unable to discern what it truly was, despite being stunned by its intensity.

“Goodness, Cain!” she threw her arms around him again and hugged him tightly. “You may call me whatever you wish after that display of love and devotion!”

“You’ll always be ‘mum’ to me,” he said. “I truly am sorry for the pain I caused you.”

“It’s fine, dear, put it out of your mind.” She dried her eyes and beamed happily at him. With a flick of her wrist, three chairs rose up from around the room, shook themselves in the air to dislodge any of Gwyn’s stray belongings, and floated over to where they stood. Once the three of them were seated, she gazed keenly at him. “Now, where were we… Ah, yes! I was about to ask you two what exactly it is that you’re up to out here. And after sensing that drive you were trying so hard to tamp down, Cain, I find myself doubly curious.”

This post has been edited by Kane: Apr 8 2025, 07:56 PM