Chapter X

Long time, no see guys! There's only one more chapter left... -Sass

Vilkas rode on horseback as fast as he could towards the Tomb of Ysgramor. Luckily, Torvar had overheard where the Circle was headed, and mentioned it to Vilkas in passing while he was at Jorrvaskr preparing to search for Sofja. In less than half an hour, Vilkas had suited up for battle and rode after Sofja, Aela and his brother. He could have run in his wolf form, but... It didn't seem right when he was going to help them all free Kodlak from the wolf blood itself. He took the fastest steed the Companion's owned, Kodlak's Horse named Sif. He'd let the blood overtake him enough times... Not tonight.

Once he'd arrived, the horse had barely stopped trotting before he launched himself to the ground, running for the tomb. Vilkas tore down the stairs, his wolf armor gleaming dimly in the moonlight, and almost smashed face-first into Aela, who was pacing in the outer chamber where Sofja and Farkas had left her. Running into each other, both Vilkas and Aela steadied themselves, nearly tumbling to the ground.

"By the Nine... Vilkas, what are you doing here?" Aela said with alarm.

"I came to do my duty to the Circle. But I could ask you the same question. Why are you still here in the outer chamber? Torvar told me the Circle had departed hours ago," he said, his dark eyes gleaming with worry. "You didn't descend with Sofja and Farkas?"

Aela looked the ground, shame in her greenish eyes. "I...could not do it. It did not seem right when I continue to make the change with so little guilt. But I also could not leave, in case I was needed... So here I wait."

Vilkas nodded his head slightly, understanding. He almost had not come either. "So they haven't returned. How long ago did the two of them enter into the ruins?"

Aela crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. "Too long for capable warriors such as them. It's been a few hours, by now." Vilkas frowned at her. "Kodlak told me of this place once... It's not a huge tomb, although some of the corridors are complicated to maneuver and sunken into ruin. Still, if all went well, they would have returned by now. Do you think...is it too soon to fear the worst, and to go in after them?"

Vilkas shook his head. "Let's not waste another moment. I will no longer cower and hide from my responsibilities... We are the Circle, and we are all that's left until we find them. We must take care of each other, as Kodlak would have expected."

Aela nodded, smirking at him. "Now that's what I like to hear. It's about time you stopped acting like milksop," she said, and Vilkas rolled his eyes. "Let's go!"

The path was mostly clear where Sofja and Farkas had fought through earlier. Aela and Vilkas had little trouble following in their footsteps. "They must have done well up to this point," Aela said quietly. "We are lucky there are so few spirits left to test us. The rest must have gone." Vilkas nodded, a small wave of hope surging up through him. Was it too much to think that everything would turn out all right in the end? He grunted with annoyance. There was no time for hope—they had to be on their guard. He couldn't let his mind wander too far ahead; who knew what would happen.

"Vilkas!" Aela suddenly yelled as she ran ahead of him, calling his senses to attention. "I've found Farkas!"

Vilkas' hairs stood on end. Looking up the darkened hall where Aela knelt, he could see the limp body of his brother, his feet sticking out from the corner where he lay. He was surprised Aela had seen him; he could hardly make him out in the shadows. "Is he..?" Vilkas barely managed to say, approaching slowly.

"He seems fine, just unconscious. Looks like he took a hard blow to the head," she said, brushing the hairs from Farkas' face. If she didn't know better, she'd almost think he was sleeping. "It takes a lot to take a man as big as Farkas down. We better stay on our guard."

"We have to keep moving," Vilkas said sternly, pressing ahead into a massive chamber covered in webs. If Farkas was here, then where...

Aela stood up quickly, grabbing Vilkas' shoulder with some force before he passed through the doorway completely. "Stop."

Vilkas growled angrily, turning back towards her. "What do you mean 'stop'? If Farkas is here, then Sofja—"

"First of all, do you think we should just be leaving him here unconscious?" She motioned down to Farkas. "And another thing, do you not smell that, Vilkas? There's blood spilled up ahead, and lots of it." Vilkas' eyes widened in terror. So sweet...it had to be hers.

Vilkas wanted to rip her throat out for even saying it, but Aela was right. "Well, what do you propose, that one of us stay here with him? He's been here this whole time as it was, well-concealed in this little corner," he snarled, his black eyes gleaming with annoyance. In fact, Farkas was extremely well-concealed... As if someone placed him there for his own safety? Sofja? Aela rolled her eyes at his ungracious tone.

"I think one of us should stay, just in case. You're his brother, and I don't trust you not to lose your head in case something happened to Sofja," Aela said warily, staring into his eyes with a strange look of sympathy.

Vilkas would not hear another word. But instead of yelling, or threatening, or fighting back the wolf blood as he lost his temper, all he could do was plead with her quietly. "Aela, you must understand... I must atone for all the wrong I've done. Sofja may be lost forever, and I will never forgive myself if I cannot try to find her." He swallowed hard at the words. "So please, stay with my brother until I can bring her back safely. I need to do this. To prove... I am more a man than I am a beast." Vilkas said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

Surprisingly, Aela nodded. "Fine. But don't take long. You know I hate missing anything exciting," she smirked. He nodded, a small smile on his face.

Leaving Aela behind, Vilkas entered the spider's chamber. It was a disgusting sight to behold, and he kept his right hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case. He didn't have to walk far before coming upon the corpses of three massive Frostbite spiders, and a pool of blood in the middle of them. Breathing deeply, Vilkas could tell—this is where Sofja spilled her blood. And much of it, too. She had to have taken a massive injury.

"Well, there was certainly a struggle here..." Vilkas said to himself, bending down to dip a finger in one of the bloody puddles. But no body—and that was a good sign still.

Moving across the room, he came upon a massive set of carved doors. The scene upon them was one of Ysgramor overcoming a massive horde of enemies. Vilkas took a deep breath and slowly pushed them open. The next room was even larger than the one he left, covered in torches, old treasures and coffins of past harbingers. In the flickering shadows, Vilkas spotted a figure on the ground. His body seemed to understand before his mind did, and he suddenly found himself sprinting. It was her.

"Sofja, Sofja..." He said frantically as he fell to his knees, cradling her pale, stiff body in his arms. "Sofja, wake up...please, for the love of the Nine, wake up..." Vilkas rocked her body back and forth as he knelt on the ground, holding her head to his lips, letting his mouth run over the strands of her fiery red hair. She was as pale as he'd ever seen her, with a bloody hole in her chest. Any moment now. Any moment she'll wake.

"Vilkas..." Sofja finally said, her voice sounding weak and far away. His heart swelled, triumphant, and he sat up to gaze upon her face. But looking down, Vilkas saw her eyes were still closed. And upon closer inspection... she wasn't breathing.

"Sofja?!" He bellowed, confusion and panic overtaking him. He shook her a little.

"I'm...here." She said again with hesitation, her lips unmoving. Was this some trick? But then he realized...the voice came from behind him. Vilkas' stomach dropped and his limbs went cold. Carefully, in a daze, he lowered Sofja's body back to the ground, then stood. Breathing shallowly, he turned around towards the back of the tomb, where hundreds of coffins stood in their alcoves, seeming to dance in the torch light. Ten feet in front of him stood an altar lit by candles, and near the altar stood Sofja. But it wasn't Sofja... She was translucent and pale, her skin white as snow, and there was a strange aura about her.

"Sofja?" He barely managed to say, his voice catching in his throat. "What is this?"

"Vilkas..." She sighed sorrowfully. "You came."

"Of course...of course I came. But I don't understand..." What did this mean? He looked down at her limp body again, his mind going blank.

"Farkas and I came alone," she began, cautiously approaching him from the raised altar area. She almost seemed to float. "He was knocked out by one of the spiders... I managed to kill them, but one stabbed me through the shoulder. The injury was...very bad."

"No...no...no..." Vilkas began whispering, stepping backwards away from her. He was suddenly struck with a feeling of terror that he'd never experienced so strongly in his life.

"I pushed on, and spoke with Kodlak. He told me what to do, and I threw one of the witches' heads into the fire, there," she continued, her voice breaking with emotion as her strange, translucent hand pointed to a flaming cistern. Vilkas' eyes welled with tears.

"No..."

"Kodlak's wolf spirit came after me, and I tried my best to defeat it, I truly did..." Sofja was crying now, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Sofja, don't..." Vilkas begged her, falling to his knees near her body, tears running down his cheeks. He cradled his head in his hands.

"But I wasn't strong enough..." She said, leaning down to her knees in front of him. "I... I didn't make it."

The words hit Vilkas like a ragged knife. His body went rigid, his skin went numb. He looked over to her body, all pale, dirty and bloodstained. All he could think about was how he wanted to die more than anything. He had failed her.

"Please," Sofja's spirit whispered between tears, looking down at her weak, defeated body, "there was nothing you could do." He finally looked up at her. It was almost as if he could see through her. She was more beautiful and ethereal than he'd ever seen her. Reaching up, Vilkas tried to rest his hand on Sofja's cheek. However, his fingers melted right through her, and a cold, tingling sensation overtook him. He shuddered with disdain for himself.

"You're gone, and I wasn't here to defend you," Vilkas managed to say through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists. Sofja, in her ghostly form, shook her head. "Please, no—"

He suddenly interrupted. "This can't be... I don't understand... How...h-how can I even see you? I thought only past Harbingers could find comfort here."

"You see her, lad, because she was to be the next Harbinger, although it was unannounced before my death." Vilkas whirled around, still on his knees. A few feet away, he saw Kodlak standing, looking the same as Sofja's spirit; pale and almost translucent. Vilkas thought he was going to pass out.

"The next Harbinger..." Vilkas whispered, holding his tear-stained face in his hands once more.

"Indeed it is so," Kodlak continued. "The arrangements were all made, the ceremony prepared by Eorlund. Alas, things did not go as planned..."

This is a dream. I'm still in the woods and this is all a dream. I'll wake up soon, and all will be as it was before, he thought. Or wished.

Kodlak's ghost circled around where Vilkas knelt and where Sofja's body had fallen. He stood next to her spirit, watching Vilkas with a pained expression. "Though the ceremony was not completed, Sofja's pure heart ordained her the next lawful harbinger. Of all, she was most worthy." Kodlak paused for a moment, before starting again in a quieter tone. "Vilkas... I know your heart is heavy. And if you cannot bear to do battle, I will understand..."

Vilkas swallowed hard. "No, I must...defeat the spirits within you both." He said flatly.

"Vilkas—" Sofja began, but before she could say another word, he got to his feet, pulling his sword from its hilt. "Sofja, please don't worry, I will do it. Tell me what to do," he said firmly, staring at them.

"My wolf spirit has been summoned once tonight, so all you must do is call it forth again. To summon Sofja's, however, you must throw another witch's head into the fire. They are not easy foes, but do not fear; I sense you will not be alone in this battle."

Vilkas shot Kodlak a confused look, but within a few moments, Aela and Farkas came rushing into the cavernous room. "He woke," Aela said between breaths. "We came as soon as he was feeling—" She suddenly stopped upon seeing Kodlak and Sofja's ghosts, and looked down by Vilkas' feet to see Sofja's cold, pale body.

"Gods..." Aela whispered. Farkas' eyes widened, having as much difficulty understanding what had happened as Vilkas.

"We need to defeat the wolf spirits within them both...if they are to see Sovngarde." Vilkas said just above a whisper. Both Aela and Farkas gaped at what it meant: Sofja was dead, with Kodlak. All they could do was nod in affirmation. Grudgingly, Vilkas approached the sack of witches' heads, which only sat a few feet away from where he stood. He reached his hand into the foul-smelling pile, grabbing one by the hair. Walking towards the cistern, he waited a moment, feeling Sofja's spirit standing next to him suddenly.

"I have loved you from the moment you tackled me down the stairs at Jorrvaskr," he said without looking at her, hoping the others wouldn't hear. "And I will love you for as long as I draw breath. Perhaps longer." Vilkas turned to look at her finally, fighting the urge to try and touch her again. "I will hold you once more," he promised.

"I will always be with you," she whispered back, her eyes for a moment almost gleaming that grayish-green he recognized. "I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger... But there will be another harbinger, and the world will go on. You will never be alone."

Suddenly, a massive, bellowing voice ripped through the large room, causing the walls to shake. "There will not be another harbinger," it echoed. Vilkas nearly tumbled over, and Aela and Farkas toppled to the ground.

"What was that?!" Farkas yelled.

As the room stopped shaking, both the living and the dead turned towards the altar area once more, where a shadowy figure sat in a throne. It was a massive, hulking spirit of man, and when it rose to its feet, it was almost eight feet tall. "Not what, but who," the spirit said, walking forward. Wuuthrad glinted dully in the light of the candles and torches as it hung from the spirit's back. Vilkas' eyes widened. Could it be..?

"I am Ysgramor, and I have heard you speak long enough. I have come to tell you that there will be no new harbinger." His beard hung down his chest, and he wore a horned helmet, just like in the stories of old.

Aela struggled to her knees, in awe of the great Companion who stood before them. "Why will there be no new harbinger? Are you saying that the Companions are done for?"

"No," he bellowed, laughing heartily. "There will be no new harbinger because I will return to you one of your fallen comrades. But you must heed my words well."

Vilkas held his breath, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of him. He will return one of our fallen... Either Sofja or Kodlak. But not both.