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 XL – Do We Ever Really Let Anyone Go?


(Three to four months ago…)

After an unwelcome start to the morning, it had been a long, quiet day on the Glenumbra Moors. Lunch was eaten in relative silence and then Gwyn disappeared into the grasslands for several hours to mull over just how far into her life she was willing to accept the wayward prince who’d saved her life. She surprised even herself at the answer that eventually set her path back towards home.

Restless and bored from sitting around the cabin all afternoon, Cain had busied himself by chopping firewood and tidying up some of the overgrown brush that inhibited sightlines around Gwyn’s cozy homestead. He’d paused to rest for a moment and was drinking deeply from a water canteen when the tiny Breton returned from her solitude and moseyed up to his side.

“You asked me before how I came to live out here on my own…”

Cain was surprised, but he offered her a drink and invited Gwyn to sit down opposite him. Just about every question on her past he’d asked her in their short time together had been waved off with a stiff ‘mind your own business’, so this was certainly an unexpected development.

“It’s my late aunt’s house,” she continued. “Marceline Louvain. I used to stay here during the summer months when school was out. It was the only place I could be free to live, or act, however I wanted, and my auntie always encouraged me to learn everything I could. I pleaded with her every autumn to let me stay forever, but mother always returned to drag her prized possession away.”

Red magick ignited in her palms when she finished speaking. Cain reached out and placed a hand on her wrist and smiled, letting Gwyn know she could trust him. That small gesture of kindness was all she needed to go on.

The spell dissipated and she sighed deeply before continuing. “I loved Aunt Marcie to bits but she never believed me when I told her how my mother treated me. Never believed that the moment I entered womanhood her own sister whored me out for any spare coin that wasn’t nailed down, threatening to kill me if I ever told anyone. Never believed the countless times I was held down and violated.” Gwyn paused to wipe away the tears that had started flowing. After several deep breaths, she went on: “You’d be absolutely disgusted at how many pigs would line up to have their way with a thirteen-year-old girl, single or married. The world is full of monsters, Cain. I wish there were more good people like you.”

She took a break from recounting her grim past to wipe away the tears that continued coursing down her pale face. Cain handed her a kerchief and waited patiently for Gwyn to soldier on. He could tell this had been bottled up for years and was about to burst forth no matter what.

“By the time I was fifteen, I’d long since had enough. My education had revealed a natural talent for magick and the school library had plenty of tomes to study on the nature of Destruction spells. I had no idea my own internal pain and anger could twist it so until I tried to defend myself from three brutish louts that paid mother a premium to pile on me all at once. All I wanted was to invoke a flame cloak spell to drive them away, but instead the men exploded into a cloud of red mist that coated every surface of the cellar. Horrified and enraged by what I’d done, my own mother grabbed a club and started beating me with it, shouting all the while about my insolence and all the problems I caused her. Bruised, bloodied, and covered in gore, I was about to lose consciousness when I casted another spell in desperation and her arm was violently ripped from her shoulder and fell to the ground, the lifeless hand still clutching the club. I barely had the strength left to escape our village and it was only when I showed up here, filthy, violated, and reeking of death that Aunt Marcie finally believed me. She took me in for good and eventually we’d heard news that my mother didn’t survive the spell, and that the authorities were searching for her missing daughter. But they thankfully never showed up here.”

Cain had been listening in horror and had no idea what to say. He’d never imagined that someone so young could be subjected to such abject cruelty by their own mother. That one person could endure so much trauma on their own. He suddenly understood why Gwyn had been so standoffish, and had grown angry at his frequent attempts to make her open up to him. And why she’d finally had enough and told him to leave.

But he now also understood why his actions that very morning were so important to Gwyn. She was seconds away from reliving her worst nightmare when he intervened, and she nearly lost all her independence once again. Still not knowing what else to say about it all, Cain broke the painful silence by asking about her aunt.

“What happened to Marcie?”

“She passed away a year later,” sniffled Gwyn. “I’ve been on my own here since I was sixteen.”

Her reliving of a terrible past now over, Gwyn slumped back in her chair and let the tears flow unabated. Despite the memories flooding in that she’d been trying to ignore for so long, she felt a sense of relief at having finally told someone. Cain had been the first person she’d met in almost fifteen years who didn’t try to take advantage of her in some way, and he’d refused to abandon someone he viewed as a friend. And then he didn’t hesitate to rush back to her side when Gwyn needed him the most, even though she did her best to push him away.

The next thing Gwyn knew, she was being helped up from her chair by the strong Redguard who proceeded to pull her in tight and offer his own silent but much needed support. She was unsure how much time passed while he held her close, letting her sob into his tunic, but eventually the sun began to set and he steered them back into the cabin and finally parted with Gwyn to start whipping up a warm meal.

Soon thereafter, Gwyn sat with Cain at her tiny dinner table, idly twirling her spoon around a bowl of fresh vegetable soup. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, and the tears had ruined her makeup, but none of that bothered her at the moment. She set the spoon down and looked up at her friend.

“Thank you for listening to all of that. And for not judging me afterwards. I was terrified that if I ever told anyone, they’d think I was a monster. Or some kind of [censored] unhinged lunatic who likes to blow people up.”

“Don’t worry about it, Gwyn. I’m just glad you trust me enough to have done so, and that you consider me a friend. I’ll have your back from here on out, you can count on that.”

Gwyn smiled and ate a spoonful of the delicious soup he’d made for them. Maybe life won’t be so [censored]-up anymore, she thought to herself. At least there are still good people out there.

“I do have one question, though.” said Cain.

“Hm?”

“Your magick… is it still influenced by your past? Or did you further develop those flesh spells?”

She lifted her other hand and the familiar red magickal energy filled her palm. “It’s tainted from the trauma, I think,” she shrugged. “I can’t cast normal destruction magick anymore. Even a simple flame spell ends up like this.”

“Sounds like we both have a long way to go.”

“I guess so,” said Gwyn. “Or we could look into something else, if you’re interested…”

“Like what?”

“I’ve been thinking about your inborn nature as a Dragonborn. It puts you firmly in Akatosh’s camp, no? Have you ever thought to explore a possible connection to linear time and the influence dragons have on it?”

-----

(Present day…)

The outline of the chest faded and with a slight motion from Gwyn’s own hand, it vanished into the ether. She looked at Cain and could tell he was turning it over in his head, wondering if now was the time to divulge… and to ask for the help they’d inevitably need from Linneá. Instead of answering, he busied himself with the venison haunch that was still rotating over the hearth, and then he slid a kettle of water against the flames.

“Can I get you some tea, sis?”

“I’d love some. And I’d also love an answer to my question.”

The heat of the fire brought the kettle to boil quickly, and Cain was soon passing out steaming mugs of black tea infused with bergamot and lemon. He offered Linneá a seat at the ring of chairs Kyne had set up earlier in the day, and joined her and Gwyn after giving the meat another few turns.

“Forgive me, Linn, but I’m not ready to answer that.” Linneá opened her mouth to retort but Cain cut her off. “I’m not saying we won’t tell you at all, just not right now. Matter of fact, Gwyn and I will need your help with it before long anyway.”

“I see. And you just expect me to agree to that while you hold all the cards close to your chest? It doesn’t work like that, Cain. If you want my help, you owe me answers.”

Cain sighed and set his tea down on the floor. He knew this was coming eventually, but he never once looked forward to it. There was only one direction this conversation could flow now, and it led down the road to what Cain desired most. What Kyne had almost picked up on. What he and Gwyn had been researching, planning, and practicing over the last three months. Needing a moment to breathe first, he got up and returned to the fireplace, idly spinning the cooking spit in a vain effort to deny admitting how much he refused to let go.

“Okay, well, it seems that your brother is too chickenshit to admit some things about himself,” said Gwyn, deciding to do it herself. She summoned the chest at their feet and kicked it open for Linneá to see. “Help yourself to our extensive collection on the theories and practical applications of Time Magic.”

That was all Linneá needed to understand exactly what was going on. “You can’t be serious!” She nearly threw her mug on the floor as she got up from her seat and ran to her brother’s side. “Cain, this is madness – you can’t bring her back! Time doesn’t work like that and it shouldn’t be messed with so carelessly! You need to let go of Anska and move on!”

So far, it was going about as well as he’d expected.

“I implore you to read some of those books before you jump to any conclusions, Linn,” argued Cain. “There are three in particular that I can give you, and if you are as clever as I know you to be, you’ll be able to glean what the authors were missing and how close to reality it actually is. Especially for people like us.”

“What do you mean ‘people like us’?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Think about it, Linn. We may just be human, but we have the soul of a dragon - the singular creatures in all of creation that are attuned to the flow of Time.” He walked back over to where Gwyn had opened the chest and grabbed three hefty books from within it, and handed them to his sister. “Read these, please. Read them and I promise you’ll know exactly where we are going with this. I only ask that you tell no one what we discussed here. Well, besides Serana, of course. I’m sure she already knows. Ugh.”

Linneá didn’t know what to say. This was so far beyond anything she had expected to hear from him and his new friend that she simply stood there looking at them in disbelief. A small part of her wondered if this stemmed from Gwyn’s influence on him, but Linneá also knew that her brother only trusted those who were deserving of it. With a heavy sigh, she opened her bag and slid the books inside it.

“I’ll be back in a few days, maybe a week. Serana and I will need time to read these and discuss our findings. If I piece it together sooner, I’ll zip back to you when I can. Will you be here still?”

“I should hope so, since it’s my own [censored] house,” answered Gwyn. “Oh. Sorry. Not what you meant.”

“Yeah, we should be,” laughed Cain. “There aren’t any more books to track down, so we’ll be here going over all of this ourselves.”

His sister nodded and started to cast the recall spell before dispelling it quickly. “Cain, I… I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. I wish I’d come to find you sooner. Part of me didn’t believe that you are still in as much pain as the day it happened. I see now that you’ve just figured out a way to cope. I love you, and I promise Serana and I will take this seriously.”

“I love you, too.”

-----

Linneá rematerialized in her bedroom and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed. Serana joined her from the den a few seconds later and sat next to her wife, leaning her head against Linneá’s shoulder. Their daughter could be heard playing in the other room, singing in a raucous manner that never failed to bring a smile to Linneá’s face. This time, it was an old sea shanty echoing off-key around their suite.

“Who the hell taught her that one?”

“Falk was here the other day to visit dad, so I’d imagine that’s who,” said Serana. “It sounded like his retirement involved buying a ship and sailing wherever he pleases. He no doubt learned some songs at the ports!” Serana planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek, then she helped her up off the bed. “C’mon, dinner should be ready now. Let’s grab a quick bite and see if Salihn wants to have a sleepover with mum and dad. That’ll give us a chance to dive into those books tonight. Or into this bed.”

“Promises, promises,” grinned Linneá. “I just need to change first. My old vampire armor isn’t appropriate for dinner with the folks. You’re welcome to stay and watch. Maybe help me out of it?”

“With pleasure, my princess!”

-----

Twenty minutes later found the three of them having a quiet meal with Kirin and Lydia. The conversation mostly strayed towards everyday work in the palace, but before long it turned to the implications of the deposed emperor and what it meant for the already fractured Empire.

“Have you heard anything from Anilay recently?” Serana asked.

“Not so much,” said Kirin. “From his last latter, it sounded like the Elder Council were poised to make him the de-facto leader until a valid claim to the throne is made. I’d imagine he’s very busy at this point. We can talk about that tomorrow – what I want to know, Linn, is how my son is doing. And who this mysterious woman he’s with is.”

“Gwyndala Louvian. Not sure where she’s from or what the entirety of their history together is, but I can tell they trust each other implicitly, and that’s good enough for me. She’s a firebrand, too. In a different life, I think Gwyn would’ve fit in great with us and Anska. Cain certainly knows how to choose his friends.”

“I’d love to meet her, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see if he brings her home at some point,” said Lydia, joining in now that Salihn had eaten her fill and resumed playing. “But what about Cain? Is he still struggling? Should we be worried for him?”

“Yes and no,” replied Linneá. “He still grieves for her, but he’s not a wreck anymore. Having Gwyn around is definitely helping. No idea when he plans on coming home, though.”

Kirin sighed and took a pull from his tankard of mead. “I hope it’s sooner rather than later,” he said. “If I’m to make a claim for the Ruby Throne, I’d rather my firstborn be here to succeed me. Er, no offense, Linn,” he added. “I know it’s not something you ever wanted, though.”

Linneá sat in silence for a few minutes. Not so long ago, the idea of being Skyrim’s High Queen had repulsed her, but so much had changed in their life over the last year that her feelings were no longer clear on the matter. The absence of her brother and the adoption of Salihn had given her a lot of new responsibilities, and she and Serana weren’t quite so carefree about life these days. Her memories drifted back to that night in Blacklight when she’d first questioned whether or not her complete opposition to ruling was warranted.

I meant it then and I still mean it now, Elle, Serana spoke into her thoughts. Skyrim would be lucky to have you.

Lucky to have us, my love. Don’t think you’ll get off scot free!

She’d been silent for a little too long and Kirin waved a hand impatiently in front of her face. “Nirn to Linn – are you still in there?”

“Relax, I’m still here dad. Just got lost in thought for a moment. Anyway, about what you said before… well, you should never say never. Things change. People change. And I’ll do whatever I have to for our homeland.”