Chapter One:

Harbinger of the Companions

Sundas 12 Second Seed 4E 199 11:30AM

My eyes opened slowly and I narrowed them as the sunlight streamed through the forest. I was aware that I wasn't wearing anything, my clothes far from where I had fallen asleep. It didn't bother me, waking up far from my clothes in completely unknown territory; it'd been a part of my life for far too long for me to care.

I rubbed my aching head as I sat up and leaned against the large tree that I had fallen asleep under. Lifting my head, I looked around and realized that I had fallen asleep in the dense forests that bordered Falkreath. My clothes must've still laid in the thin woods that surrounded Riften.

I ran my hands through my russet-colored hair a few times to dislodge any sticks or grass that more than likely got tangled when I had fallen asleep last night. When I finished, I was surprised that there weren't any twigs or clumps of dirt that had caked in my hair. Ugh, I need to swim, I thought to myself as I looked down at my body. Blood and dirt stained my front, and I was sure my back wasn't any better.

Slowly, I stood up and sighed. The fresh morning air was still crisp and the cold stung my lungs. Looking around one more time (a habit that I had picked up on my own), I sniffed the air. I could smell fires burning off in the distance; I could hear birds, chipmunks, and other small critters scampering around the forest floor. I smiled to myself. This was my home.

Out of habit, I licked my lips and my eyes widened as a sadistic grin appeared on my face. The copper flavor of blood lingered on my tongue, but the subtle taste of feline lasted the longest. There was only one type of species to have that kind of blood: Khajiit. My favorite prey. My eyes darted around, trying to find a bloody trail that I might've left, but (to my disappointment) I found none.

Luckily, I wasn't anywhere near the trade roads, so I didn't have to worry about a traveler or a Falkreath guard spotting me. I didn't want to get arrested for public nudity. Sniffing the air, I caught the scent of rotting flesh and followed it. I pushed some bushes aside when the scent became overpowering and I looked down.

Blood spattered the lush, green forest floor and the corpse of the slain Khajiit warrior brought back last night's events. My eyes darted from the corpse to the distinct claw marks that marred the trees around the Khajiit. Blood spattered the trees as well.

Not my cleanest hunt, I thought to myself as I licked my lips again.

As I dimly recalled the hunt, the wolf within me started to stir, and when I inhaled the Khajiit's scent again it awakened, wanting to feast on it once more. I pushed the urge back. It was risky enough to transform at night, but it'd be suicidal to transform during the day.

I was lost in my thoughts as I remembered killing this Khajiit that I had barely registered footsteps approaching. I heard the bushes being pushed apart but I didn't remove my gaze. The temptation to indulge again was becoming strong and I felt the heat traveling down my spine. I knew my eyes had shifted from the sharp silver to the equally sharp gold of the wolf.

"You there!" a deep, commanding voice bellowed. Instantly the fire died and my eyes, no doubt, were back to silver.

I turned my head slowly and I saw a large Nord man with white hair and an equally white beard staring at me. Without thinking, I hopped to my feet and bolted deeper into the forest, completely abandoning my kill. Get away! Get away! Get away! was the only thought racing through my mind. Normally I would've stayed and held my ground, but one look at the Nord told me he was stronger and more experienced in fighting, and that was enough for my instincts to tell me to turn tail and run.

I turned my head back and saw that the Nord was following me. A small, unimportant part of my mind was impressed that this hulking Nord was able to follow me through the thick forest while wearing steel armor. "Stop! I just want to talk with you!" the Nord hollered. I hoped that his voice didn't carry to Falkreath and alert the guards.

I pushed myself to go faster. Small animals scurried out of my way. "Stay away from me!" I yelled as I ran. "I'm not going back to Tralen!" I was never going to go back to him. As my mind drifted back to the thought of going back to the man who was responsible for my Beast Blood (again), I didn't see the stump that I was running towards and the next thing I knew my left shin connected with it.

"Gah!" I exclaimed as I tripped over the stump and landed on my side. I was dazed for a moment, but I turned my head when I heard the Nord quickly approaching. Looking around erratically, I found a thicket and crawled towards it.

I was hidden within the thicket by the time the Nord came barrelling through the brush. I had an okay view of the hunter as he crouched and touched the ground. When he brought his hand up, I saw the crimson on his fingers and I looked at my leg. Gods-dammit! I touched the wound and hissed quietly. It'd take time for my Beast Blood to fully heal it.

"I know you're still here," the Nord said. I froze. Cautiously, I sniffed the air and frowned. The Nord had a similar scent to mine. There was an underlying smell that was all his own, but I caught the strong scent of wolf in his blood. Yet the lingering thought was still in my mind:

Was he a part of Tralen's new pack? Or was he a hunter of were-creatures?

I shook my head and watched as the Nord sat down, moving his pack so it sat in front of him. He opened the pack up and I immediately caught the smell of bread, apples, pears… I growled quietly as my stomach snarled. Traitor, I thought as I looked my stomach. I knew the Nord heard that—I bet everyone in Skyrim heard that!

Hissing as I moved my wounded leg, I poked my head out of the thicket. The Nord man looked at me directly. His silver eyes were another clue in telling me that he was what I was. He smiled warmly. "Hello there. I wish to speak with you—." I hid before he could properly finish his sentence. I wrapped my arms around my torso and brought my legs up to my chest, growling as the pain in my left leg flared up.

"Here." I looked up and saw that the Nord man had placed a red bottle at the edge of the thicket before walking back to where his things were and sitting down. Tentatively, I reached for the bottle, uncorked it, and sniffed the liquid. It was sweet in smell. I took a small sip and in an instant the burning in my leg dulled. I drank the rest of the potion in one gulp.

"T-Thank you," I muttered as I placed the bottle back where it was originally placed. My voice was rough. I could talk, but I chose not to when I was dealing with other people. Best they know little about me and what I do.

"You're welcome," the Nord replied. I started shaking as he walked over and grabbed the bottle, only to set down a pair of black trousers and a white tunic. "I thought you might need these."

I waited until he walked away before I dressed. When I was, I looked back at the Nord and gulped. "Don't be a coward! You're a wolf!" I murmured quietly to myself. I didn't care if this Nord heard me; I wasn't going to deny what I was. I'd been through that stage already.

Taking a calming breath, I crawled out of my pathetic hiding spot and sat in front of the thicket I had been hiding behind, keeping a good distance away from the Nord. "Thank-you for the clothes," I muttered. I wasn't a total savage. I didn't completely abandon civilization. I just preferred the wilderness of Skyrim to the cities. No rules, no laws, and no one to tell me what I could or couldn't do. I tilted my head as I looked at the Nord. "Why would you help me?"

The man smiled again. "Perhaps you should know my name first, my dear?"

I nodded. "I think that might help."

The man continued to smile. "My name, dear, is Kodlak Whitemane." He cleared his throat. "I'm the Harbinger of the Companions in Whiterun."

My eyes widened. "Remember, whelp!" Tralen growled as he threw me into a wall. "The Companions are the over-glorified hounds of our world. If we draw attention to ourselves, they come and destroy us!"

I stood up and looked around for a quick escape. "I-I didn't mean to…" I looked at Kodlak, who simply patted the ground.

"I'm not here to hurt you. Rather, I'm curious. Most Vargrs aren't as civil as you're being…?"

I slowly sat back down, but I was on alert. "Skadi," I mumbled.

Kodlak grinned. I was starting to feel a bit better. "Skadi."

I cleared my throat and brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and resting my chin on my knees. "I'm not one of those monsters," I said quietly. "I'm not a complete savage." Some of my long, russet-colored hair fell in front of my face again and I brushed it aside.

Kodlak nodded. "But you killed that Khajiit."

I shrugged. "I'm not proud of it, but I don't regret it either. I tried. Honestly, I tried to stick to eating elk and other animals, but they don't fill me as well as the men and mer."

Kodlak nodded. "You're very bright, Skadi. How old are you?"

I bit my lip, tasting more of the Kahjiit blood and wishing that the bloodlust forming in my mind would disappear. "I've seen nine winters living out here. I was taken from my home when I was ten."

Kodlak stroked his beard in thought for a moment. "So, nineteen years old then?" I nodded. "Are you running from something, someone?" he asked.

I nodded again. I didn't relax. "Tralen, a Redguard. He's the one that made me drink his blood—made me become a Werewolf to begin with." I felt tears forming in my eyes as I remembered him pulling my hair, making me drink his blood. "He wanted me so he could create his own pack." Kodlak didn't seem to react. "I-I tried going home. My parents live in Eastmarch, but they…" I trailed off as I remembered their reactions when I told them that I was a werewolf.

"We can't risk having the others discover that our daughter is a monster!" my mother exclaimed.

My father crossed his arms as he looked at me. "What can we do? We can't take her up to the College! They'll either kill her with a spell, or kill her while they're trying to cure her!"

"Don't I get a say in this?!" I interjected. I understood what they were saying. I was thirteen, not five.

My father looked at me with sombre brown eyes. "No, Skadi. You don't."

"They what?" Kodlak prompted.

I blinked as the horrible memory faded and I looked back at Kodlak. "They didn't want me. Didn't want a monster for a child."

Kodlak gave a nod in response. "So, you don't have a home?" I shook my head. Kodlak came closer and I tensed a little. "Would you like it if I told you that you could say with me in the Jorrvaskr in Whiterun? I'm sure we have a bed available for you."

I gulped as I looked at him. "S-Stay with the Companions? B-But Tralen said that you hunted—."

"We hunt Vargrs that are out of control, Skadi. You're not out of control." He grinned. I looked at the dirt. "You're just a little wilder than the typical Werewolf, like someone else I know." I watched as Kodlak reached into his pack and removed a loaf of bread. Again, my traitorous stomach snarled. Kodlak handed me the bread.

I took it without hesitation and (no pun intended) wolfed it down. Eating regular food was a rarity, and some days that was all I craved, which was why I went on killing sprees that probably caught the Companion's attention.

"You certainly have the appetite of a Werewolf," Kodlak commented playfully. I blushed as I wiped my mouth.

Kodlak grabbed his pack and stood up, offering me his hand. I took it and the Harbinger hoisted me to my feet. "How long have you been on your own?"

I rubbed the back of my head for a moment in thought. "I was turned when I was ten, sir. Then I left two years after that. Tralen was gone on a hunt and I snuck out while he was doing so. I had to swim in the cold waters for a long time so he would lose my scent. I've been running ever since."

Kodlak nodded as he took out a piece of parchment and jotted something down. "Tralen, his name is?" I nodded. Kodlak had probably written down his name. When he was done, he folded it up and placed it in a pouch on his belt. "I'll be sure he doesn't find or harm you, Skadi."

"T-Thank you, sir."

Kodlak placed his large Nord hand on my head and messed up my already wild hair. I jumped back, my breathing erratic, but a small part of my mind told me that he was just being playful, like… like… I didn't know what. "Now, Whiterun is a long ways away and it's nearly three in the afternoon." I looked up at the sky and frowned. How did nearly three hours pass by so quickly? "Do you want to walk to Falkreath and stay at the Dead Man's Drink?" Kodlak continued.

I tensed at the thought of being anywhere near civilization. I mean, I had time to mentally prepare for Whiterun, but Falkreath was about a two hour walk away. I needed more time than that to prepare myself.

"Perhaps we should camp then." I nodded at Kodlak's words.

I walked a few paces behind Kodlak. I wanted to observe him, and see what kind of man he really was. I was really good at reading people. I had to be if I was to enter a village or city to steal supplies. I stopped in my tracks as I realized one detail.

"S-Sir," I stammered as Kodlak looked at me. "I hunt at night. It's the only time I can and if I don't…" I gulped. "I lose control."

Kodlak placed a large hand on my shoulder. I looked at it for a moment. "I understand. Perhaps I should hunt as well." I looked back at him. "You obviously know what I am from my scent, no?" I nodded sheepishly. "I can help you with hunting away from the men and mer that live in Falkreath or are traveling." Kodlak looked around the forest. "Perhaps there are some elk, deer, rabbits…"

"I prefer carnivores. Their blood tastes the closest to the men and mer." I grinned guiltily. "Sabrecats are my favorite though."

Kodlak grinned. "Because they taste like the Khajiit?" I nodded.

As we walked, I had to lift the black trousers around my waist so that I didn't end up walking with them wrapped around my ankles. As we walked, Kodlak had removed a pair of shoes and offered them to me, to which I refused. I liked the feel of the ground underneath me. It made me feel more at home. But I had to roll the sleeves up on the miner's shirt he gave me, seeing as how it was just as big as the trousers I wore.

We were near the road again when Kodlak finally spoke. "I think you'll like Whiterun, Skadi. It's a nice place. Large plains, plenty of deer, elk, some wild cats…"

"Khajiit?!" I asked with a lot of enthusiasm.

Kodlak sighed, making me nervous. "We have a caravan that arrives every now-and-then. But don't hunt them. They aren't wild game." I pouted childishly.

"It'll take some time for me to get used to living in a home again—and with people to boot!" Kodlak grinned, and I found that my heart uplifted when he did. "I grew up in Eastmarch, then in a cave somewhere. Tralen always moved around, not wanting to stay in one place for very long."

"He must be crafty and persistent if you had to keep running."

I didn't speak. Tralen was a killer through and through. He wanted me for one reason, and that was a reason I didn't like.

"You're only alive so I can create more members of this pack! You will submit to me, whelp!" Tralen snarled as he grabbed my wrist and shook me roughly.

Kodlak looked at me again. I looked at the ground. "You'll be safe with us. Aela, Vilkas, Farkas, Skjor, and myself will protect you. It's what the Companions do." Kodlak smiled crookedly. "If the five of us don't, Elana will."

I tilted my head. "Elana?" I asked.

Kodlak grinned. "You'll meet her when we arrive at Jorrvaskr."

I nodded and listened as Kodlak began describing the history of the Companions. I found myself enthralled by his words. The Companions were more than just hunters: they were basically like the Fighter's Guild that I sometimes heard about when I went into Riften or ventured close to the Skyrim/Cyrodiil border.

As Kodlak continued to speak, I would sometimes interrupt to ask a question (after apologizing for interrupting him) and he'd happily answer.

For the first time, I felt as though I had hope and maybe... just maybe... a family.