Author's Note: Set during the Companions radiant quest of the same name, where Farkas cures himself of lycanthropy. \\\ Skyrim and its characters are property of Bethesda Game Studios.
PURITY
We stood together in front of the dancing blue flame. I clutched at the hagraven's head, holding it by its limp, dull hair. Its face was contorted into a grotesque grimace, its eyes not quite closed. I extended my arm and held it above the flames, then turned towards Farkas.
"Are you ready?" My voice echoed in the cool darkness of Ysgramor's Tomb. He nodded. I took a deep breath and released the witch's head, letting it fall into the flames. The blue tongues licked at its skin, which began to burn and peel in the heat. The fire flared brightly.
Out of thin air a spectral wolf began to form, large and menacing. I drew my sword in preparation, and I heard my shield-brother draw his as well. The wolf paced slowly on the other side of the room, directing an occasional malicious glare towards the two of us. I could hear the deep, guttral growl eminating from behind its bared teeth. Suddenly, it charged with a snarl directly at Farkas.
I lunged to intercept the attack, my sword finding purchase in its translucent body. It turned its head to me, teeth snapping, and prepared to attack. It dodged my next swing, leaving me open for the slashing bite it landed on my left arm. Despite its spectral appearance, its teeth were solid and able to cause injury. Furious, I spun around and landed a heavy hit across the beast's back. With a howl, it stumbled forward, lashing out with tooth and claw. My final strike landed squarely in the wolf's neck and it collapsed to the ground with a whine. It drew one final pant as it lay there, finally fading into nonexistance.
Breathing heavily, I replaced my sword across my back and smiled in trumph. A small moan coming from behind me prompted me to spin around, startled. Farkas sat on the floor, leaning against the temple wall with his sword strewn next to him.
"Is... is it over?" His baritone was uncharacteristically soft. I moved as quickly as I could, sinking down next to him with concern.
"Are you okay?" He blinked simply in response, reaching his large hand toward my small arm.
"You're hurt," he mused. I grabbed at his curious hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
"Farkas. Are you ok?" He looked up at me.
"I think so." I could feel his body trembling. He looked pale.
"Here." I rose to my feet and offered him my hand in support. He got up slowly, swaying a bit as he stood. He took a long, shaky breath.
"How do you feel?" He furrowed his brow in thought, and then his face relaxed into a warm smile.
"I feel alive and aware. This is how a warrior should feel."