Chapter Nine
The Other Kind of Brotherhood
4E 172, 18th of Sun's Dusk, Helgen, the house of Hergi…
Vithar brushed his thick blond hair away from his eyes, straightening out his new clothes, as he watched his aunt and uncle walk into the house, leading a very young girl by the hands. His face brightened up with a proud grin as his uncle placed a heavy-looking satchel on the nearby table. His thirteenth birthday was in just two days, and he specifically wanted his Uncle Derek to be there. Derek was a master blacksmith, and would aid in a special family tradition.
On Vithar's birthday, Uncle Derek, his father, and he would forge a blade, a tradition that all men in the family would take part in. But not just any blade.
No, this would be Vithar's first sword.
Uncle Derek and Aunt Malene greeted Vithar with birthday congratulations and well wishes as Aunt Malene strode into the kitchen where Drifa was, leaving the child with her father. Uncle Derek knelt to face Vithar, but, to Vithar's pleasure, didn't have to kneel too far. The tiny child with him raced to his side, shying away from Vithar.
Uncle Derek was a lean, tall Nord, the elder brother of Vithar's father, and worked in Falkreath with his wife at a smithy. Vithar's brother Ludvir was apprenticing there, and sent half of his earnings home every other week. Being a blacksmith was…lucrative, apparently, as Ludvir would send hundreds of septims home.
"You're almost a man, Vithar," Derek said with a grin as he clapped a hand on Vithar's shoulder, ruffling his hair with the other before returning it to the child, keeping a loose hold on her. "How do you feel?"
"I feel…" Vithar cleared his throat as he repeated his sentence in a deeper tone. "I feel like a man already, uncle."
Derek laughed heartily and took his fur hat from his head, long blond hair tumbling out. With a flourish he placed it on Vithar's head, smiling, "Just two days, and you will be one."
Uncle Derek looked over to the small girl that clung to his knees, and snapped his fingers, "Ah forgive me, your uncle Derek seems to have forgotten about introducing you two…you don't know who this little one is, do you?"
Vithar shook his head and Derek pulled the girl closer, "This is your cousin, Vithar. She's just over three years old, but it's been at least five years since we visited last, so you wouldn't have met her yet. For your brother's Forging, I believe…or was it something else?"
"Will Ludvir be here?" Vithar asked, and Derek shook his head.
"He's on a supply run to Markarth," Derek replied and Vithar shrugged his shoulders, a bit dejected. With the age gap, at least ten years between the two brothers, there wasn't much of a bond. But Vithar would have appreciated the aid of two blacksmiths in his Forging.
Derek looked to the front door, "Well your father should be back from the stables soon. Our…horse shouldn't have been too much of an issue for him."
The girl's dark eyes lightened up as she muttered, "Mere!"
Derek laughed, "Yes, little one, Mere the horse. Now why don't you say hello to your cousin, Vithar?"
The girl stumbled over Vithar's name before butchering it down to "Vit". Vithar chuckled as he asked, "What's your name?"
"Astrid," she smiled, suddenly shy. Vithar smiled back, "Hello, cousin Astrid."
Please don't let her die, please don't let her die…Vithar prayed as the horse flew over hills and rocks, the mountain range growing closer with each gallop. Lydia had passed out from the sabre cat attack, her blood slowly gathering in his hands. At this rate she could bleed out. They wouldn't make it, either of them. His infected wound throbbed with agony, but Vithar could do nothing about it. Not while Lydia lay in his arms dying.
The sun began to sink and he swore, "No! Just a little more daylight! Please!"
If the dangers of dying in the wilderness weren't enough, there was always the threat of what lurked in the darkness of Skyrim.
He rode his horse harder, faster, as they flew over hills and jumped over streams of water, Lydia groaning all the while in agony. Winds picked up, whistling past Vithar's ears as the breeze grew more powerful as the horse gained speed. The hooves of the powerful steed pounded across the snowy terrain, past a group of wandering Vigilants of Stendarr and a shady-looking Khajiit in yellow and brown robes, and further still.
A distant roar rumbled across the rocky terrain, causing the adrenaline to pump faster into Vithar's bleeding body. He glanced for a moment behind him, and cried out as a bear began its chase after them.
"Can any beast refuse the temptation of following two dead Nords?!" he shouted at the sky, which began to cloud over the dying sun.
In his eyes, Vithar saw two options before him. The first: ride his horse to exhaustion and be eaten by Skyrim's wildlife. The second: prayer, and then ride his horse to exhaustion. Who could be in charge of the wild beasts? Vithar rejected the notion of bowing to the Daedric Prince Hircine.
There had to be something…something!
For a moment, the wind softly died, as Vithar raised his weary head and shouted in a futile effort to gain some divine's attention.
Within the space of three seconds, all of nature responded to Vithar, as if they were making amends for putting him and his housecarl in grave danger. A sharp reverberation in the suddenly dark sky gave way to a thick bolt of crisp yellow lightning, which immediately struck the ground behind Vithar…right where the bear was. A pained howl signaled to Vithar the beast's demise.
Then the wind picked up, this time right behind Vithar's back, pushing him and the horse with a bit of force. The horse neighed in satisfaction as he catapulted forward with renewed vigor, and Lydia groaned slightly, signaling to Vithar that she still lived.
"We're almost there!" Vithar reassured her, and himself as well, silently giving his thanks to the Divines above.
The rain slowly began to pour.
The wind stopped as they reached the edge of a murky swamp, and the rain died off as well, leaving only a thick coil of gray clouds that obscured the faint light of the newly-risen moons. Lydia had fallen unconscious once more, and Vithar's wound swelled with infection, weakening him severely.
Morthal lay just a few minutes away…and yet the distance couldn't be ever more perilous. Coupled with their fading life energies, the swamp held many foreign dangers that Vithar had only heard of. Walking undead, giant spiders, and slaughterfish filled the swamps, not to mention the Vampires that made the region their home.
"Guess one more wouldn't hurt…" Vithar muttered as the agony ebbed from his dying heart.
The horse tried to protest as Vithar tried to push into the swamps, but the Nord fought back, eventually gaining control of the beast. Into the swamps they went, with Vithar struggling at the reins. The horse snorted in fear as the darkness overtook them, and fog slowly rolled in over the swamps.
Vithar squinted, trying to find some signs of civilization in the area, but no lights met his gaze. He slowly rode on, clutching Lydia closely. Her skin felt so hot to the touch, but she looked awfully pale…
"We could die here," he muttered, half to himself. "How…ironic…"
The horse trudged through a stream of muck before suddenly halting. His nostrils flared and he whinnied in terror as they stood in the middle of a clearing. Above his head, Vithar could see the constellations light up the night sky, now clear, and the sign of the Thief shined brighter than usual.
"You look lost, traveler," a female voice crooned darkly.
Shit, shit, shit! Vithar flung his head around, sweat and rainwater spraying everywhere, "Who's there?!"
The darkness swam in his vision and he cursed his inadequate night vision as he demanded in the silence that followed his earlier question, "Speak, woman!"
"Ugh, you men and your misogyny…" the woman sighed. A soft thump indicated that she must have been hiding in the trees and slid to the swampy ground. "Got a light? Probably not, since you're riding in the dark like a damn idiot."
"Who in Oblivion are you and what do you want?!" Vithar held Lydia closer, trying to shield her with his own ailing body. The extra strain pulled on Vithar's arm, breaking the skin even further. Pain swelled inside his body but Vithar wouldn't show it.
The woman growled, "Jeez, what did I do? You're acting like I stole your sweetroll…ah here's a light."
Within a few seconds, the stranger began to click flints together, and chuckled as she caught a spark. Bathed in a faint light, Vithar allowed his gaze to refocus, and looked for the stranger.
His vision was wavering as he felt another attack growing on his heart. This infection was strange…but then again, he had never been scratched by a vampire before. No normal wound would grow infected so quickly like this.
He finally saw her, and his countenance lifted as he recognized the shrouded armor-clad Nord woman, who snorted in response, "Should've known it was you, Vit."
Vithar smiled weakly as he felt the heaviness surrounding him, "Hello, cousin Astrid."
And he promptly passed out.
Between having writer's block and struggling in school, I've finally made a bit of progress in this, even if it's shorter than the last few chapters. Honestly, if it weren't for the many people who've been subscribing to this story, I'd have restarted this whole thing. But I think I'll keep it like this. One more day until the plague takes Vithar. Astrid is my favorite character, by the way. I've been debating on writing her story. We shall see. Stay tuned.