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 XLIII – Fractured


“…you want to do what?” asked Cain. “How in the hell would that even work?”

Gwyn sensed the hesitation in his voice but she also noticed the flicker of hope behind his eyes. No going back now, I guess. Why do I keep doing this to myself? She flicked a loose strand of hair away from her eye and tucked it behind an ear in an effort to hide the mistiness that had begun while her thoughts momentarily drifted.

She cleared her throat and explained her intentions. “Your dragon blood’s an incredible source of magick and power resting just beneath the surface, and it has a natural connection to what we are dealing with here. I should have seen it sooner, if I’m being honest. You showed me its potential weeks ago when you spoke three simple words and time itself slowed to a crawl. There’s no spell in existence that can do that, Cain. Not even the magick I’ve been practicing has an application like that. I think I can harness it during the ritual to open a rift in time that you’ll be able to navigate. We still don’t know what the end result will be, but it’s the only option left for you.”

Cain froze. He was sure all was lost after last night and somehow the diminutive Breton he’d been sharing his life with recently still continued to surprise him. Words eluded the thankfulness he was feeling towards Gwyn, so he pulled her up from the chair and hugged her instead. The top of her head barely met Cain’s shoulders and she had to stifle a gasp at the sudden embrace. [censored], he even manages to smell nice most of the time.

She pushed him away and feinted disdain while pointing a finger up at his chin. “Too much, don’t ruin it. You can thank me later this morning if it works.”

“You want to try it so soon?”

“No point in waiting.”

-----

The cloudy night sky obscured the bright red and white glows of Masser and Secunda from shining through Linneá and Serana’s bedroom window. The couple were lying awake in bed, now late into the night, comforting each other after an ill-fated discussion with their elder brother. While her wife’s revelations with Gwyn turned out to be an interesting surprise and turn of events, Linneá had recalled them home feeling more disconnected from Cain than ever.

“Do you think he’s given up on saving her?” asked Serana. Linneá’s head rested on her lap as she idly twirled her dark locks of hair. When they got home, she’d been more upset than Serana had seen her in a long time.

“I don’t know,” she sniffled. “I don’t see how he can at this point. One thing is for certain, though… we are going back tomorrow, and I think it’s time our parents came along with us. Kyne, too.”

“Oh, that will be a hoot,” giggled Serana. Linneá rolled over and stared up at her with one eyebrow raised. “That was sarcasm, Elle. Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Hm. I should have picked up on that. He really did get me twisted up like a pretzel.”

“I don’t think he meant what he said, hon. He loves you very much and I’m sure he already wishes things had gone differently. We’ll find out tomorrow, I promise. And I agree that it’s time for us all to go – even if he doesn’t come home, we might be able to talk him down. This madness has to end. But, let’s get some sleep now and talk about it in the morning, okay?”

With a subtle nod, Linneá sat up and pivoted to lay her head on the pillow. She threw and arm over Serana and pulled herself in close, breathing her perfume in deeply and drifting off to a restless slumber.

-----

It was still cloudy later that morning and the smell of rain hung on the air as Kirin stood on the balcony of his study and gazed out over the marshy lowlands of Hjaalmarch. The murky swamps filled with dangerous creatures and dense groves surrounding his home village of Morthal elicited a deep fog that no amount of sunshine ever seemed to burn off. He often took a break from the day-to-day toil of being High King to look down at the gloomy expanse and ruminate on his younger days. And each time he was still amazed at how far he’d risen. And how lucky he was to have a loving and supportive family by his side.

A low murmur of sound drifted through the window to his left and he wondered what the girls would be doing in his study so early in day. He ambled back inside and was alarmed to see not just his daughters, but Lydia and Kyne, as well.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Lydia came to his side and grabbed his hands. “It’s time to go see our son. All of us. Linn has relayed some disturbing information to Kyne and I, and Cain needs us now more than ever.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” admitted Kirin. “What are he and that other woman up to out there?”

“Well, according to Linn and Serana,” Kyne began, “they’ve been messing with Time Magic in a misguided effort to undo Anska’s death and bring her back. I wish my children here would have told me sooner but we still have time to act. They at least were wise enough to deny him use of the Elder Scrolls.”

“How long have you known about this?” Kirin demanded, rounding on his daughters. “And why the hell did you not tell us sooner?!”

“M’sorry, dad,” said Linneá. “Our curiosity got the better of us at first, but we did recognize that Cain is taking it too far. It’s been about eleven days since he clued us in and I don’t think he and Gwyn are any closer to actually attempting it. We pretty much trounced their only chance last night by refusing to give them the Scrolls. It, uh, didn’t end well.”

Kirin regarded them angrily for a moment. He couldn’t believe they’d been hiding this from everyone, including their patron goddess. Then he noticed the downcast expression his normally cheerful daughter wore and knew that whatever happened between her and Cain last night was eating away at her and that she needed to see him again soon.

He beckoned her over and offered a comforting hug. “Don’t sweat it, Linn. I know you just wanted to help him. We all do. I take it you and Serana want to leave with haste?”

“Now,” said Lydia. “We need to go now. Salihn is at school and Kyne will meet us there, husband.”

“Very well. Where did you say they are holed up? On the Glenumbra Moors? Always wanted to go see them someday anyway. Take us away, Linn.”
“Ana’s mastered the spell, too. You take her hand and mum can come with me.”

A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the study and a large brown hawk soared out of the open window and into the grey skies above Tamriel.

-----

The very same skies above Gwyndala Louvain’s meager cabin were abnormally dark. It seemed as if morning had come for only a couple of hours before night charged back in unabated, blanketing the grasslands under an oppressively dour dusk. Inside her home, all was still. The beds were empty and the fire in the hearth had burned down to a smoldering pile of ash.

Cain and Gwyn sat outside on the ground, directly in the center of the largest ritual circle they had made thus far. The chronomantic runes Gwyn had studied for weeks were painted all around them, interspersed with relevant clawed markings of the Dragon tongue that Cain had etched out. They sat facing each other with their eyes closed in concentration.

Gwyn’s heart pounded against the inside of her chest in fear of what was to come. She’d chosen this path to help her friend even though it meant throwing away any chance at becoming something more than that. Opening her eyes, she saw the relaxed look on Cain’s face and decided it was time to stuff her feelings down for good and begin the spell. Blue magick flickered into life on her palms and flowed outward, feeding the various runes around them until they all glowed with the same energy.

Once the runes were fully primed, a web of magick expanded out in a sphere that perfectly encompassed the circle of cleared, bare earth. Mystical threads wove carelessly throughout the time barrier in a dazzling array of pulsating white lights. Occasionally, they would intersect to form one of the time runes or a Word of Power, and the resulting burst of magicka fed the ritual and increased the potency of Gwyn’s fervent spell casting.

Cain finally opened his eyes and the sight took his breath away. The barrier around them had grown more and more dense as it mirrored the markings on the ground until finally they began to feed off one another in a crisscrossing pattern enveloping the air within it.

“I’m ready if you are,” stated Gwyn. “All of my spells are charged and I can direct the energies through you like a conduit. If this works, a portal should slowly begin to form between us.”

“Do it,” said Cain. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening. In a matter of minutes, he would see her again. The thought of it filled him with a palpable excitement that pushed everything else out of his mind. Nothing mattered beyond holding Anska in his arms once again.

Gwyn sighed and focused the magick towards Cain, and three things happened near simultaneously. The swirling blue and white energy collapsed inward and fused itself with Cain’s dragon spirit; a large brown hawk fluttered down from the still darkening sky; and following a flash of purple light, four figures appeared out of thin air.

Hell broke loose all at once.

“NO!” Kyne’s divine voice rang out loudest of all, drowning out the shocked cries of Cain’s family. “YOU MUST STOP THIS AT ONCE! GWYNDALA! CAIN! I BEG OF YOU TO STOP BEFORE YOU DESTROY US ALL!”

“No no no no, don’t do this!” pleaded Linneá, rushing up to the barrier. “Brother, I’m sorry we couldn’t help you but this is so much worse than using the Elder Scrolls! Mum is right, you have to end this! Please!”

Cain lowered his head in an effort to ignore them. The arrival of his entire family and Kyne herself was not something neither he nor Gwyn had anticipated and would only distract them from an already dangerous attempt at manipulating time and reality. Funnily enough, he’d thought they had more time.

“Should we continue?” whispered Gwyn. “What if Kyne can breach the circle?”

“She can’t,” promised Cain. “Time isn’t under her domain. Only Akatosh can intervene in this, and he doesn’t involve himself in mortal affairs. Keep going, Gwyn – I can feel the aperture beginning to form. The energy flowing through me is… intense. I need to concentrate.”

It took all of his strength to channel the flow of power safely through him, and he sensed that a large enough interruption would not only sever the link, but it would also endanger his life. Cain closed his eyes and breathed deeply while more voices tried to reason with them.

Kirin and Lydia had recovered from their initial shock and stood hand in hand at the edge of the time barrier. And his father spoke softly to him: “Cain, you must know this won’t work. Death cannot be undone and Anska has gone on to Sovngarde. She died a warrior’s death and will be honored in Shor’s Hall for eternity. We should honor her memory in life and leave her at rest until the day we join her ourselves. Let her go, my son… it’s the only way forward.”

“We know how much you loved her,” said Lydia. “We know how much she meant to you, and how you longed to marry her, and how you longed to raise your child with her. She was taken from us too soon, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw everything else away, Cain! Please, end this before you lose us all! And before you lose yourselves!”

Gwyn was watching her friend closely. He remained stoic in his concentration even as tears had begun to pour down her own cheeks from the remarks of those who loved him. She’d never had family like this other than Aunt Marcie and she was amazed at Cain’s ability to remain composed in light of their desperate pleas. But his concentration didn’t waver in the face of their goal and the tunnel they were tearing through time began to expand.

Serana left Kyne’s side and circled around until she was closer to the still mysterious Breton, and out of Cain’s earshot. “Gwyn you can stop this right? You have to know this only ends terribly for you. One way or another, you are going to lose him by going through with this.” She hoped that appealing to her infatuation with Cain would be enough. That it could sway her from continuing the spell. “At least if you stop now, you’ll still have him.”

Gwyn sniffled and shook her head to clear the moisture from her eyes. “No. It was a nice attempt, girl, but if this means he’ll be happy than that’s what I will give him. He deserves it far more than I do. No one will miss me if I’m gone…”

A multitude of overlapping voices continued to bombard Cain and Gwyn while they worked, and while the time vortex widened further and further. Cain struggled to drown them out while he focused on keeping the bridge between his soul and Gwyn’s magick stable. The effort was taxing all his strength and he knew that the slightest slip would undo the ritual entirely.

He heard the voices trail off for a few seconds until one of them approached the barrier’s edge directly and addressed him in a soft, kind voice. “Cain, please don’t do this,” said the goddess, her voice just audible enough for him to hear it. “Anska wouldn’t want you attempt something so dangerous and you know it. She’d want you to let go of her. You still have us, and you’ve even made a new friend in Gwyn. She’s willing to sacrifice it all for you, but are you really willing to do the same? Does she deserve that? Please, Cain… please end this.”

Tears started to drip from his eyes and splatter into the dirt at his knees. It didn’t mater what she said. What anyone of them said. They were so close he could taste it. After ten months apart, and months of work with Gwyn leading to this point, he was almost there. Another few minutes and the portal would be wide enough for him to step through.

“I’m sorry, mum,” he shook his head. “I need this more than any of you could possibly understand.”

The goddess stepped back and ushered the others to her side. “There is only one thing left I can do, if they won’t see reason. Spread out around the circle and kneel in wait, my children. We are going to appeal to Akatosh himself and I will lead the prayer.”

Kirin, Lydia, Linneá, Serana, and Kyne moved apart until they were evenly spaced around the temporal barrier and knelt down with their eyes closed, arms raised to the blackened heavens. Gwyn had noticed them beginning to fan out and something about the look of certainty in Kyne’s face made her worry.

“Cain, I think they’re about to try something. Are you sure this will hold?”

“Yes. Only –“

“Lord Akatosh!” Kyne’s voice rang out clear, and far louder than any mortal could achieve. “We call for your aid in our team of need!”

“Oh no,” exclaimed Gwyn. “Damn it, Cain what if he does something? We’re making progress but it’s not big enough yet!”

“Just keep going.”

Kyne had continued the intonement while they spoke, but in this instance the Divine knew that brevity was more crucial than appeasement to the Lord of Time. The prayer was short and ended thusly: “Please end this incursion, this warping of Time as only you can!”

An eerie silence fell on the Glenumbra Moors. Cain’s family opened their eyes and gazed hopefully around for a sign that their prayers were heard. Gwyn, too, looked about frantically while Cain himself remained focused and attentive.

Without warning, a blinding white flash illuminated the dark morning, forcing everyone to shield their eyes against it. After a second or two, Gwyn felt the sudden brightness fade, and she opened her eyes with a gasp of shock that finally swayed Cain’s intense commitment to the spell.

Anska stood before him in the ritual circle, still adorned in her heavy armor with her favorite war axe hanging from a loop on her belt. Her long blonde hair fell beyond her lower back, braided in one long twist, and her warm brown eyes bore a sadness while she looked down upon her wayward fiancé. A delicate golden aura of otherworldly power and beauty emanated from her ethereal form as she knelt down in front of Cain.

“Hello, my love,” she spoke softly to him.

“How –,“ began Cain, tears flowing unchecked at her sudden appearance.

“My lord Shor has granted this favor to Akatosh,” she explained. “I’ve been told of your plight, dear heart. Of your unwavering desire to save me. Of the pain and torment you have been dealing with since I was called to Sovngarde.” Anska took his hands in her own and stared calmly into his eyes. “And of what you’re attempting now. It won’t work, Cain. You’ll bring ruin to all those that you love.”

“I… I can’t stop,” cried Cain. “It’s been so hard without you. I lost everything I’d ever wanted when you died. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lay down and die with you, and with our unborn child. The silence in my head was deafening. It’s still deafening.”

“I understand, Cain. I do. But fate works in mysterious ways, and our love was always destined to be cut short. We made the most of the time we had, and for that we should be grateful. I’ll treasure it for eternity, but that’s a luxury that only I have.” She lifted a hand and brushed the tears away from his eyes. “You’re still alive. You have Kirin and Lydia, and you have Linneá and Serana. I know how much they mean to you, and how much they love you.” Anska glanced behind her at Gwyn and smiled at the stunned woman. “And you have your friends, too. They’re all counting on you in more ways than you could possibly know. It’s time to let me go, my love. You have a life here among the living. Live it, and go be the great man I know you to be.”

The others had grouped together outside the magickal barrier and looked on in wonder. There was not a dry eye present while they watched the impossible unfold in front of them. It was with bated breath that they continued silently praying to Akatosh in reverence for his timely action, and they hoped beyond hope that Anska would give Cain the closure he needed.

Even Gwyn was in awe of Anska’s abrupt arrival, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. The tall Nord woman was far more beautiful than she expected, but also exuded an endearing kindness that was almost alien to her. In those moments, she finally understood what drove Cain’s unwavering desire and loyalty.

“Anska, I… I’m sorry,” Cain felt the connection to Gwyn’s spell unraveling. The runes and dragon etchings surround them began to dim and the aperture between them started to shrink.

“Don’t be. I gave my life to save those in need, and given a second chance, I would not hesitate to do so again. I’ll always love you, lunkhead. But those who came here to help you, and those who came here to stop you have one thing in common: they need you. The real you. Be the big brother your sisters need, and the son your parents long for. And be the unwavering rock your friends need.”

She kissed Cain on the forehead and together they rose to their feet. The spell severed and the temporal energy around them faded while they embraced one last time beneath clearing skies and bright sunlight.

They separated after a few moments and Anska smiled sadly at him. “Shor is calling me home now. Goodbye, my love,” whispered Anska. “And promise me you will move on.”

Cain held her hands tightly and met her gaze. “I promise.”

Anska nodded and pulled her hands free of his grasp, waving at her family watching nearby in amazement. “I love you all, and I always will,” she called to them. Gwyn stood awkwardly a few feet away from them and tried without success to not be noticed. “I wish we had been able to meet in a different life, Miss Louvain,” Anska smiled at her. “Take care of him, yeah?”

She caressed Cain’s cheek a final time and then disappeared in another blinding flash of whitest light.

This post has been edited by Kane: Apr 21 2025, 03:18 PM