Author's Note: Zin is the Dragon word for "honor"
I am really sorry I took a long time to update but I had writer's block (again) and I took me a while to straighten out what I wanted to do with this chapter. I'm already typing the chapter after this so I can update faster. So, without further ado, here's chapter six!
Sixth Shout: Zin
I tried to avoid the stares of everyone at the dining table, instead focusing rather intently on the food on my plate. News of my slaying of the dragon had spread like wildfire through the city and whispers could be heard around every corner. Not to mention that Jarl Balgruuf made me Thane of Whiterun and have me his Axe as a reward. He also gave me leave to buy a house and appointed a woman named Lydia as my housecarl.
With the gold I had saved over the few weeks, I bought my first house, a cozy little cottage called Breezehome. Proventus Avenicci, the Jarl's Steward, was still renovating it according to what I wanted to be placed inside, so I still lived in Jorrvaskr for the time being.
"Is it true what they're saying?" Vilkas's voice cut through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality. "That you're really the Dragonborn?"
I shrugged. "Everyone seems to think so. I…I don't understand myself."
"We must go hunting sometime!" Ria piped up with a smile.
Skjor gave a little chuckle. "Who knew that such an innocent-looking woman could slay a dragon? I'd hate to think what you would do to your husband if he so much as irritates you."
I had to smile at his statement. Admittedly, it felt so delightful to have this kind of power, whatever power it was. If I had known I was this so-called Dragonborn sooner…things would have been different.
"What are you planning to do now?" Kodlak asked. "Being a Thane of Whiterun and being the Dragonborn, surely you must have plans."
"Actually, being all that just further complicated things," I admitted. "I received a summons from the Grey Beards to go to the Throat of the World, but I don't think I'm ready to face them just yet. I just want to settle down first and take it easy for the time being. And I like living here, though it's only been a couple of weeks."
The rest of the Companions smiled and continued eating. However, I noticed Skjor giving Aela a look I could not understand then glancing at me from time to time. What were they thinking?
After dinner, I excused myself and went outside. The Skyforge's fire had been put out and little by little the city was darkening as its citizens went inside their homes to retire. I didn't want to go to bed just yet, knowing that I wasn't going to get any sleep because Njada and Athis were probably going to start another argument in the quarters again.
I glanced around, making sure no one could see me, and climbed up to the roof. From there I saw the roofs of the various houses and shops in the Plains and Wind districts. A few dark clouds were scattered across the sky, giving me a full view of the stars and the moon.
Sitting down, feeling the cold breeze blowing against my tunic and hair, making me shiver. I was still a bit unused to the cold climate of Skyrim, but my body was slowly learning to cope. Perhaps I should've brought a cloak…
"I don't feel that cold, mama." A little sneeze.
She laughed. "My child, in Skyrim, you would freeze in seconds."
"Father says we should never ever go to Skyrim. Why is that, mama?"
"Your father…is a difficult man." Sadness clouded her eyes. "There are some things he doesn't want to understand. He has shut his mind from those things."
"Why?"
"Because that's just how he is. Now, try to keep warm, my child, and I shall bring you some hot soup."
"Mama?"
"Yes, child?"
"Is it really much, much colder in Skyrim?"
She laughed again and nodded. "The winters here are but a normal summer day in Skyrim."
I reached up as if to grab a star and sighed. How many years have passed since she left us…? The memories I have left were so few, yet they were branded forever in my mind. I would never allow myself to forget her, even though Father readily did.
"What's got your mind so pre-occupied?" a voice brought me crashing back to reality.
I looked down and saw Farkas staring up at me, dressed in his tunic and trousers. Without his armor, I could see how well-defined his muscles were, sculpted and honed to perfection. I felt a blush coloring my cheeks and I looked away, hoping he didn't see it.
"I was just thinking," I called down to him. "I find that I'm not tired enough to sleep yet."
"Mind if I join you?" he asked. "I, too, can't seem to get sleep to take over me."
"Uh…sure, why not?" I said.
I heard the creaking of the wooden walls and soon Farkas's head popped up from the ledge. I reached out, and, with some difficulty, helped him climb onto the roof.
"I sit here sometimes by myself," he said as he settled beside me. "It is a nice view, is it not?"
I looked up at the sky again and nodded. "It is. It's…peaceful."
"So, what were you thinking about?" he asked.
"Well…seeing as I came here practically a nobody, I guess I'm a little overwhelmed at everything that's been happening." I sighed. "I just wanted to come home, settle, live a normal life, and not be the one who's supposed to slay dragons and save everyone."
"You call working with The Companions a normal life?" he chuckled.
"Well, I was fairly certain that dragon slaying isn't part of your daily activities."
"It could be," he said seriously, "now that we know that the legends are true."
"Great, just great." I lay back, closing my eyes. "I wish the legends would just stay legends. I don't recall my mother mentioning that I was the Dragonborn. Come to think of it, she never told me any kind of story concerning the Dragonborn."
"You and your mother seemed to have been very close," Farkas said, "with the way you speak about her."
"We were," I said. "My father was too focused on his own work to bother with me."
"Where did you live before coming here? You never really told us."
I shook my head. "Some place very far from here. I don't like talking about it."
"You didn't bring your mother with you when you came here?" he asked.
"She's dead," I said plainly. "She died of illness when I was eighteen."
Silence reigned between us for a few minutes. I felt the tears welling up my eyes but I fought them back, reminding myself that nothing could be gained from crying.
"Don't show any weaknesses, my child. They will use them against you."
After eight years, the void left by my mother was still fresh.
"Vilkas and I didn't have any parents," he suddenly said. "We were raised in an orphanage and when we were sixteen, we joined the companions. Skjor sort of became our father; he took care of us and taught us everything we know. He said I have the strength of Ysgramor and my brother has his smarts." He chuckled.
Unsure of what to say about this revelation, I kept silent. So that why he and Vilkas were so close – aside from the fact that they were twins, they were raised side by side, relying on each other because they had no one else but themselves. For a moment, I wished I could've traded places with them.
No! I mentally slapped myself. I wouldn't wish that kind of life for them. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Farkas asked.
"No," I replied. "I don't even know if I have any family except for my father."
"So you're alone."
"Pretty much, yes."
Silence bloomed between us once again. I kept staring at the stars, my back slightly aching from lying on the hard wood of the roof. The cold had numbed my face and arms. Farkas was staring out into the distance in deep thought.
"I better go to bed," I said sitting up and arching my back to relieve the tension that had built up there. "See you in the morning, Farkas."
He nodded. "I should get to bed as well."
We climbed down, Farkas going first. When his feet touched the ground, he dusted his tunic and waited for me. The fire at the center of the hall was still burning and I sighed as the warmth enveloped me.
"I want something to do for tomorrow," I said as Farkas walked towards his room.
"Skjor was looking for you earlier," he said. "But you left the table before he could talk to you. Ask him in the morning."
I stared after him. As I walked downstairs to the sleeping quarters, I decided that this Dragonborn business would have to wait. I still had work to be done in Jorrvaskr with the Companions and I still had to prove myself that I was worthy enough to be one of them.
"Look at me now, mama," I muttered to myself as I slipped between the covers. "People used to laugh at me and now they want me to slay dragons."
As soon as I closed my eyes, sleep overcame me and for the first time in a long time, I had no dreams or nightmares.
The very first thing in the morning after we had finished breakfast, I looked for Skjor. He was outside, engaged with Vilkas in a deep conversation. As soon as he saw me, he dismissed Vilkas and motioned for me to approach him.
"Ah, there you are," he said.
"You wanted to see me?" I asked.
"I did," he replied. "Your time, it seems, has come."
"What do you mean?"
"Last week a scholar came to us," Skjor explained. "He said he knew where he could find another fragment of Wuuthrad." He frowned. "He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honor of the Companions demands that we seek it out."
"So…what does this have to do with me?" I asked puzzled.
Skjor looked at me like I was a child and explained further. "This is a simple errand, but the time is right for it to be your Trial. Carry yourself with honor and you'll become a true Companion. Farkas will be your shield-sibling on this venture, whelp. He'll answer any questions you have."
"Uh…all right. I understand."
As I turned to find Farkas, Skjor gave me a piercing stare.
"Try not to disappoint," he said sternly. "Or get him killed."
"Yes, sir," I said as I went back inside.
Wuuthrad, I later learned, was Ysgramor's weapon. According to Farkas, Ysgramor "came from the ancient homeland and killed all the elves. But not all of them because some of them are still here." As soon as I heard those words I laughed so hard everyone looked our way to see what we were talking about.
Dustman's Cairn, the place where the fragment of Wuuthrad supposedly was, was half a day's travel from Whiterun. The sun was sinking behind the mountains as we reached the tomb. I looked down at the deep pit where the entrance was – moss and vines covered the old stone steps and a few broken pots and vases lay strewn about the floor. Farkas nodded to me and we descended the stone steps and stopped in front of the doors leading into the Cairn.
"There's going to be…things…in there, right?" I asked.
"In all likelihood there will be," Farkas replied. "But don't worry, Shield-Sister, we can handle them."
I gripped my sword tightly. "Right. Shall we go in?"
Not letting our guards down even for just a moment, we pushed the iron doors open and stepped inside. The tomb, supposedly abandoned, looked like someone had recently been exploring it. The fire pits were lit and there were a few personal items on the stone table in the middle of the room.
As we went deeper, it seemed that the long-dead occupants didn't want any visitors in their home. Draugr sprang from all directions but, being long-dead, their bodies could not fight as well as when they were alive. We quickly cleaved our way through them and soon found ourselves in a large cavern. Farkas shut the wooden doors behind us to prevent any of them following as I went down the stairs, looking around for any signs of danger.
The cavern was empty, save for some bookshelves with a few old books, some skeletons covered with dust and cobwebs, and an enchanting table. On the far end of the cavern were two rooms, one was open while the other was blocked by a barred gate.
"There's a lever here," I called as I went inside the open room.
"Vanya, wait!" Farkas said but I had already pulled the lever.
A rusty sliding sound made me look back sharply. A barred gate has slid over the entrance of the room, trapping me inside. Farkas rushed towards it, peering through the bars.
"Oops," I said sheepishly thoroughly embarrassed.
Farkas sighed and shook his head. "Now look what you've gotten yourself into."
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"No worries," he assured me. "Just sit tight. I'll find the release."
"Yeah…" At that point I wished there was a table for me to crawl under. Just great, Vanya, it's your Trial and you embarrass yourself in front of Farkas.
Before Farkas could walk away to find the release however, he was surrounded by a group of bandits all wearing the same armor. I gasped and grabbed the bars of the cage, as if I could force them open by sheer strength.
"It's time to die, dog!" one of them spat as they drew their weapons.
"We knew you were coming," another said. "Your mistake, Companion."
"Which one is that?" a third asked.
"It doesn't matter. He wears that armor, he dies!"
"No!" I cried. "No!"
I pushed against the bars with all my might, but though old and rusted, they were still strong. Farkas stepped back closer to the bars, and I wished I hadn't been so stupid and pulled that lever without thinking what might happen. I could only watch helplessly as the bandits came closer. Farkas could probably take on two or three of them but even though he was a very skilled warrior, it was impossible for him to take on half a dozen and live.
Farkas was going to die. And it was all my fault.
~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~ O ~
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