Chapter Twenty-Eight:

A Broken Mind

Turdas 29 Sun's Dusk 4E 199 10:13AM

My eyes fluttered open to a large, spacious room that had multiple torches lit. My head was throbbing so violently that the room was beginning to sway and I felt as though I was ready to heave at any second. After taking a few deep breaths to make sure I wasn't going to be sick, I slowly pushed myself up and leaned against the headboard while I rubbed my forehead. My covers slid from my torso and pooled around my legs and waist while I sat up, trying to make the room stop spinning.

A couple of minutes later the room was stationary, and the pain in my head was beginning to fade—except for the new bit that was erupting in my jaw. What in Oblivion…? I wondered while I brought a hand up to massage the sore spot. I was so absorbed in trying to dull the pain that I didn't notice someone sitting next to me.

"Are you okay?" Taryn asked.

I jumped slightly, regretting it instantly as the room started to spin again. "What…?" I swallowed once. "What happened last night?" I mumbled.

Taryn frowned. "I was hoping you could tell us what happened." She sighed. "I mean, you attacked my mom! You've never gone after her—not even when you were sixteen!"

I groaned while resting my head against the headboard. "I can't remember what happened…" I admitted as I tried to recall. All I saw was blurry figures… mixed voices… Nothing that would help me remember anything.

"Can't or won't?" Taryn muttered.

I frowned at her. "Can't."

With a shake of her head, Taryn summoned some ice magic into her right hand while there was healing magic in the left. "I've been healing your jaw and icing it when I can." I nodded as I summoned some of my own magic and applied it to the sore spot.

It was a tense silence for a while before Taryn stopped applying magicka to my jaw and handed me a glass of water. "Skadi…"

I swallowed the contents down in one gulp. "I… He wants me gone, doesn't he?" I mumbled, wiping some water that dribbled down my chin with the back of my hand.

Taryn's eyes shot to my face immediately. "What are you talking about?!"

I winced at the noise. "Kodlak… He wants me gone. I wouldn't blame him—."

"No!" Taryn exclaimed. "That's not what I was going to say!" She hit her hand to her face. "Why would you even think that?!"

I looked at my covers. "It doesn't take a genius to figure it out, Taryn," I replied.

Taryn glared at me. "I wasn't going to say anything like that!" She inhaled a breath. "I was going to ask if you wanted to talk about it."

I frowned. "I don't."

Taryn and I had a stare-down for perhaps a solid three minutes before she rolled her eyes. "I'll have Tilma bring some food down for you," Taryn growled. "I need to talk with Kod—my dad about…" She watched me for a time. "About something."

I nodded before rubbing my eyes and seeing my fingers coated in red. Am I bleeding?! I mentally screamed. But the memory of Aela giving me the red war paint came back to me. I'll have to apply a new coat…

"Balfhe and his parents are here," Taryn said, pulling me from my thoughts. "I thought I'd let you know."

My eyes grew to the size of plates at the mention of Balfhe's name. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, slowly standing so that the room didn't spin violently. A few seconds later, I retrieved a new set of smalls, a breast band, a red tunic, and a pair of dark grey trousers. I ignored the boots that rested at the foot of the mannequin that held my armor and sword.

"I…" I swallowed again. "I'm going to go clean up," I muttered.

Taryn stood from her seat, opening the door for me as she did so. "Sounds good."

My eyes spotted the wrap that was around Taryn's right hand for a moment. "What happened to your hand?" I asked quietly.

Taryn flexed her hand instinctively. "Um... your jaw." She laughed to lighten the mood. "Your head is as hard as stone!" She smirked. "That's not because you're a Werewolf, is it?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." I moved my jaw, wincing slightly. "You must've put some force behind the punch..."

Taryn shrugged. "Adrenaline rush."

I shook my head. "Uh-huh..."

I shuffled my feet out of the room and towards the baths, trying to be careful not to move too quickly and risk making the room spin. I chose the bath closest to the door, setting my clothes down on the small wooden table before I drew up a bath and stripped down, lowering myself into the warm water. I washed myself quickly, only to stop when I traced a barely visible scar that ran from the back of my elbow, traveled to my inner forearm, and stopped at my wrist.

My brow furrowed while I stared at the thin line that broke my slightly tan skin. "When did I get that…?" I murmured.

Without warning, the room around me went black and after blinking a few times, I was staring up at a stone ceiling as—men and mer stared down at me, grinning as they dragged sharp objects across my skin, laughing at the cries of pain and the howls of agony that ripped from my throat. One man… no, a mer… The mer brandished a silver dagger as he grabbed my left arm and pressed the burning metal against it, dragging the weapon against my arm until blood seeped through the wound. He laughed at the sounds of my cries for mercy.

I gasped, startled by the memory as it retreated to the back of my mind. Taking a few deep breaths, I rested my head against the edge of the tub as my eyes slowly shut. I attempted to find some relaxation—some form of safety.


Turdas 29 Sun's Dusk 4E 199 1:25PM

I sat at one of the tables behind Jorrvaskr, my head resting in my hands as I poured over one of Taryn's many books: Night of Tears by Dranor Seleth.

Saarthal holds a prominent place in Skyrim history, even if most do not remember it by name. It is of course the site of one of the first major Nord settlements, one of the first cities of men in Skyrim, and the earliest known capital of their civilization. It was also the site of terrible bloodshed, when the elves attempted to drive the Nords out of Skyrim, to succeed only in incurring their wrath in the form of Ysgramor and his fabled Five Hundred Companions, who swept the elves from Skyrim and firmly established it as the home of the Nords.

All this is known, but little else. What happened on that Night of Tears, when Saarthal was razed to the ground? What provoked the elves to such a deliberate, vicious attack, and what prompted such a severe response from the Nords?

I rubbed my forehead while I read. Usually I enjoyed reading, but at the moment… it just gave me a headache.

Vingalmo's Treatise on the Altmer Antecedent suggests that the elves of the Merethic Era, along with their counterparts the early Dwemer, possessed a degree of sophistication unparalleled in Tamriel. They displayed power beyond what could be expected of the time. While a distinct explanation is not given for this, I believe that this work, compared with the early writings of Heseph Chirirnis, suggest that something greater was at work on that night in Saarthal.

The true motives behind the Night of Tears have been obscured to us by the passage of time, but I believe this was not a simple war of territory, or of control of Skyrim. I believe that what happened was a significant event based around something very particular—.

"Skadi?"

I turned my eyes from the book to see Balfhe standing a few metres away with two plates of food in his hands. One of them looked like he was about to drop it so I grabbed it before it had the chance.

"Hi, Balfhe," I greeted as I pushed the book away and put the food in the former place of the book. "Hungry?"

He nodded. "I asked Elana if you ate and she said she wasn't sure… So Tilma and my mom made us lunch."

My heart cringed at the mention of Elana's name. I hadn't seen her all day (and, honestly, I didn't want to see her at the moment). "Oh… I'll have to thank them when I get a chance," I said. Balfhe stood there for a moment. "Why don't you join me?"

He beamed before handing me his plate of food and taking a seat next to me. "Can I ask you a question, Skadi?" Balfhe asked.

I nibbled on my smoked venison, pushing the greens away from the meat. "Of course."

"How did you become a wolf?"

I fell silent as the memory came back… if not even worse than it usually was. "It's… complicated," I replied.

Balfhe frowned. "But my dad said that you had to drink wolf blood."

My eyes shot to Balfhe before I spoke again. "What?"

"Mhm," Balfhe said before eating some greens. "I asked my dad and he said that you had to either be bitten by a wolf… or drink its blood. What did you do?"

They… They never told him? "This wolf…" I began slowly. "… Made me drink its blood." I bit my lip. "Your parents were the first people I found after... after everything."

"Did they help you?"

I opened my mouth to answer when I spotted Hreir and Hulgar walking around the side of Jorrvaskr, just walking and talking to each other in hushed tones as a married couple usually did.

"They did," I said a little louder.

Hulgar and Hreir stopped their conversation to watch the two of us.

"Really?" Balfhe asked.

I nodded. "They… opened my eyes a little bit." I stared at Hreir. Balfhe stared at me for a moment, waiting for me to continue. He frowned when I didn't.

Hulgar whispered something to Hreir, who stared at her husband for a while before coming over.

"Balfhe, I need to talk with you inside for a moment." Hreir and I watched each other as she led Balfhe indoors. I finished my meal and grabbed my book, ready to pick up where I left off when I smelled Hulgar standing nearby.

"What?" I said darkly.

"I'd like to talk with you," Hulgar said.

I glared at him. "Why? Thought of new insults to use?" I retorted.

He rubbed the back of his head for a moment. "Actually, I just want to talk with you."

"I have nothing to say to you—."

He took a step forward. "But I have a lot to say to you—things I should've said years ago."

"Too little too late," I growled, flipping the book open.

The Nords found something when they built their city, buried deep in the ground. They attempted to keep it buried, but the elves learned of it and coveted it for themselves. Thus they assaulted Saarthal, their goal not to drive the Nords out but to secure this power for themselves. I believe Ysgramor knew something of what the elves would find under Saarthal, and rallied together his people to keep the elves from gaining it. When Nords once again controlled Skyrim, this power was buried deep below the earth and sealed away.

"You always loved reading…" Hulgar quipped. I could hear the smile in his voice. "That and drawing..."

I rolled my eyes. "I also find joy in hunting and killing," I said threateningly.

Hulgar smirked. "I know. I'd always walk around the house to see you pretending to track fox prints… squirrel tracks…" He rubbed his beard for a moment. "What do you track now?"

"Bears, elk, sabrecats…" I glanced at him. "I tried to attack a mammoth once…" I absently traced a thin scar that was at the back of my head, hidden by my hair. "The occasional human or Khajiit." I glanced at Hulgar to see him wince at the last part. "What? No, 'monster' comment?"

He shook his head. "Just… impressed I guess—not about the last part." I snorted. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

I glared at him. "If I say yes, will you leave me alone?" I asked as I slammed my book closed.

"Sure."


Turdas 29 Sun's Dusk 4E 199 1:45PM

The market was busy this time of day, everyone was buying what they needed from Carlotta or Belethor… a few people trudged up to the Bannered Mare and didn't emerge from the inn after walking inside. A couple of people stopped Hulgar and I, asking us the hated Gods-damned question if we were related. I denied it straight away. The first person to ask us that question was Carlotta and when I had given her the answer, I watched Hulgar out of the corner of my eye, watching to see if he'd flinch or any form of hurt crossed his features. To my disappointment, he remained composed and waited patiently for me to end the conversation.

We were passing Belethor's store when Hulgar decided to try to speak again.

"So," Hulgar said while rubbing the side of his neck, "what do you... hunt?"

I rolled my eyes. "Anything and everything," I answered. "Except mages. They reek."

"Mages have a different scent then others of their own kind?" Hulgar asked.

I groaned. "Magicka has a strong, bitter scent that's just flat-out repulsive." I paused, then added. "I also tend to shy away from Nords."

Hulgar and I walked in a tense silence while we passed the Drunken Huntsman. "What Holds have you been to in Skyrim?" he asked.

"Every single one..." I paused. "Except the Reach."

"Why only that one?"

I smirked. "Well, I shouldn't say I haven't gone to the Reach, because I have. But I refuse to go anywhere near Markarth."

Hulgar frowned. "There a reason why?"

I snorted. "I'm a Werewolf, Hulgar. Figure it out."

It was silent for a few moments before Hulgar inhaled. "Silver."

I nodded. "Yes."

Hulgar snapped his fingers. "I bet that's where the Silver Hands get their weapons."

I fell silent while we walked. Hulgar tried to get me to talk more, but I kept my lips sealed shut the entire time I gave Hulgar the cold shoulder. It was when we were behind Breezehome and Olava was sitting outside of her home that Hulgar gently put a hand on my shoulder. I stopped, turning my head to see his dark eyes soft with... remorse?

"I'm sorry," he said.

I stared at him. "What?"

He gulped. "I'm sorry… for everything."

I laughed, but it was hollow. "You think a few words will erase nine years of hurt?" I replied. "I will never forgive you for what you've done to me. Ever."

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Skadi." I faltered slightly at the use of my given name. "I just want to start out on the right foot."

Snorting, I brushed past Hulgar without a second glance.

"Forgiveness means letting go of the past." I heard Olava sigh as I passed her. I glanced at her one more time. "It will take time, my dear. But that dark place you always see... It will fade with time." She gave a wistful smile.

I returned to Jorrvaskr to see that my book was still in place, as was the plate of food with the greens still in on the plate. Olava's words ran through my mind, but I didn't really pay them any heed. She was just a crazy old woman that got one thing right about that reading she gave me: Taryn's lycanthropy.

I marked the page where I left off before I walked into Jorrvaskr to see it mostly empty. Relieved that Elana wasn't around, I set the plate of mostly-consumed food on the counter and made to walk downstairs to get away from everything when the door to the living quarters opened to reveal Elana walking up the steps. I saw a scarf wrapped around her neck.

My breathing quickened slightly at the glimpse I got of a dark bruise around her throat in the shape of—oh Gods! The memory from the previous night came back to me. It felt as though not only was I but my wolf was losing its mind as well. I stared at my hands for a moment before I felt myself backing away and into the weapons rack behind me. My Imperial bow clattered to the ground, as did a hunting bow that Ria sometimes used.

"Skadi!" Elana exclaimed when she saw me. Seeing that something was wrong, her eyes narrowed slightly. "… Skadi?" I saw Elana's hand twitch towards the Skyforge steel dagger that rested on her hip. That did it for me. I spun on my heel and raced out of Jorrvaskr. I'd never run from someone before—besides Tralen—but just seeing that Elana had to have a weapon on her because of what I'd done to her…

I barely registered that I shoved someone out of the way (and nearly down the steps from the sounds of the curses being thrown my way), until I heard them running after me.

"Skadi!" they called. "Skadi, stop!"

I shoved the gates to Whiterun open before I really started running down the road. I could still hear my pursuer as they struggled to keep up with me, but once I reached the plains, I started removing every piece of clothing I had on me and let the wolf take over.

I tore through the plains, not caring if someone saw me at the moment. I thought I heard a guard or two curse when I shot out from the tall grass (the iron arrow that nearly hit my shoulder proved that). What's the fastest way to...? I thought in a panic as I came to the base of a mountain. I swiveled my head to my left and right. In front of me was the trail that'd take me up the mountain, to my right was a Giant Camp and behind me was... was...

Snarling sharply, I bolted for the mountain.