Vilkas was hesitant to enter the tunnel. He could feel Valleri and Marcel's eyes on him, making him go cold. They were both expecting him to move. He was expecting himself to move. Vilkas had to admit that he didn't exactly feel right continuing on through the tomb. Especially after reminding himself of his trip to Driftshade. Marcel was a living reminder of that particular mark of shame. Was it really okay for him to be here?

Letting out a sigh, Vilkas finally started forward, one foot in front of the other. He had no idea why he was so nervous in the first place. The decapitated head in the bottom of his pack grew heavier with each step. Eventually, the only way to keep the feelings of inadequacy down was to not think at all.

"Vilkas wait up for a moment!"

The Nord stopped suddenly, furrowing his eyebrows. "What is it?"

Valleri and Marcel were lagging behind. The Breton was trying to keep his weight off most of his bad ankle, steadying himself on the wall. Valleri frowned as she addressed Vilkas, "You gotta slow down. Marcel's ankle isn't doing too well."

"Apologies," Vilkas muttered. He waited quietly for Valleri and Marcel to catch up. "Are you holding up too, Val?"

She shrugged indifferently. "I'm fine," Valleri said sharply. Vilkas took a step back as she and Marcel shuffled on ahead of him. Every few steps he could see Valleri pause for only a moment, catch her breath, then continue. She said she was fine, but Vilkas knew otherwise. He wasn't going to say anything, much against his better judgment. Vilkas knew she'd just pester him to let her keep going.

It wasn't long before the tunnel opened up into the next set of chambers. The grandeur of the previous rooms was still present; another large staircase took up most of the room, leading to what Vilkas assumed was the actual burial chamber. Coffins and ceremonial braziers lined the stair case. The room wasn't lackluster per se but the eerie quiet around them made it feel empty.

Valleri must have noticed it too. The Imperial shot Vilkas a quick glance before moving next to him. Marcel didn't say anything and only sat down on the stairs. The Breton didn't look so good. Vilkas took another quick look around before turning to face his friends.

"You two stay here. I'll go ahead."

"Repeat that?" Valleri snapped, expression turning into a snarl.

Vilkas stared at here blankly. "Valleri, you guys aren't holding up well. I don't know what's gonna happen when we get the burial chamber."

"That hasn't stopped me before, Vilkas." Valleri paused for a moment before continuing, "I may have not been raised by Kodlak, but… I see just as much obligation to see this through!"

The Nord sighed, crossing his arms. "No, just no."

"Yes!" Valleri yelled before she blinked and started falling backwards. Instinctively, she grabbed onto Vilkas for support. In another moment, Valleri took a deep breath and regained her composure.

Vilkas scowled, "See?"

"I'm fine, Vilkas, okay? I just got a dizzy spell is all," Valleri retorted. "I just can't leave you to finish this up by yourself. That feels," The Imperial paused, taking another deep breath, "it feels wrong somehow."

"This isn't some sort of life or death contract sort of thing. There's no need to push yourself so far. Besides I don't think Marcel wants to go any further and someone should keep an eye on him."

Valleri's curt expression didn't change. "You can't speak for Marcel."

Rolling his eyes. She had a point. Vilkas addressed the Breton behind Valleri, "Hey, Marcel?"

"What?"

"How do you feel about moving on?"

Marcel sighed and grimaced, "Like to the next room?"

"Yeah."

"No, I'm good here. Thanks," Marcel answered. He flopped back onto the steps with a thud and closed his eyes. Vilkas turned back to Valleri and tilted his head.

The Imperial could only roll her eyes, "Be honest Vilkas. Is this just because you only now realized how personal this actually was?" She paused for a moment to wait for the Nord to answer. Vilkas didn't know what to say. He breathed out slowly and rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Valleri continued, "You could have just said so. I'm not going to judge you for needing a bit of space to go through this."

He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. "You got it in one guess, didn't you?"

"Because I think I know what you're going," Valleri said with a smirk.

Vilkas gulped nervously and mustered a small smile. He gently rubbed the top of Valleri's head, eliciting a frown from the woman. "Stay here then?"

Again, Valleri rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'll watch Marcel. Make sure I don't actually have a concussion and what not." She paused, pointing menacingly at the Nord, "But, if I hear any sign of trouble, I'm gonna come rushing in. Got it?"

"I wouldn't have expected otherwise."

Valleri turned her back and started towards Marcel. She shot him one last smile before sitting down, "I'll see you in a bit then."

Vilkas, still a bit apprehensive, only nodded his head and went ahead.

…

Vilkas wasn't sure what he was expecting when he reached the burial chamber. It wasn't that he was disappointed, but he wasn't surprised either. Compared to the rest of the complex, this room was much more spartan.

The chamber was circular in shape with a basin in the middle of the room. That didn't catch his interest though. Instead, Vilkas could only focus on the structure in the distance ahead of him. It was a sarcophagus, kept safe with a cage of steel bars and decorated with old lichen. Tentatively, Vilkas approached, eyes wide with awe.

The founder of the Companions, or Nordic Skyrim for that matter, may have not actually been right in front of him, kept safe by the steel bars. But Vilkas was content enough to think the old hero was there.

"So, you're the one to show up? I can't say I'm surprised."

Vilkas whipped around as soon as he heard the voice. Behind him, standing next to the basin, was a wispy, translucent figure. His lungs seemed to constrict when Vilkas immediately recognized who it was.

Kodlak laughed loudly, throwing his head back, "You look as white as ghost, boy!"

At first, Vilkas couldn't find the words to respond. He could only stare at Kodlak with wide eyes. "What a horrible joke," Vilkas retorted finally, expression melting into a disappointed frown. He walked up to Kodlak reluctantly. He couldn't believe the Harbinger was here, dead or not.

"I was starting to think you people forgot about me. Humor may be the best way of dealing with this particular situation."

"If it helps, I guess." Vilkas paused for another moment before moving to the basin. "How long have you been here?"

Kodlak shrugged and went to Vilkas' side, "Who's to say? I think I woke up here shortly after I died. From what I can recall, it looked like messy business."

"It was a shock when I got there… I may have snapped."

"Snapped?"

Vilkas felt himself go heavy as he recollected his thoughts. "I'm ashamed to admit it. I killed most of the Silverhand after you died. I went into a blind rage when I saw that you died. The others tried to stop me and I nearly killed Valleri. Feeling horrible wouldn't begin to describe how I feel about it."

"Why in the world would you do that?" Kodlak asked with a look of absolute befuddlement.

"I can only describe it like switching over, just more violent somehow. There's no excuse. None at all."

A look of grim acceptance came to Kodlak's face, "I suppose you're doing what you can to make up for it?"

The younger, living Nord rolled his eyes, "I wouldn't be a Companion if I didn't." He paused momentarily, taking a moment to approach the basin. "I came here specifically to see if your werewolf cure would work. Seemed like the best place to start."

"Ah, right…" the old man trailed off.

"You know more than I do," Vilkas continued, glancing at Kodlak from the side. "How does this work?"

"Toss the head into the basin and light it on fire."

Vilkas narrowed his eyes. "That's it?"

Kodlak sighed, "No. You'll just have to let the magic do its work. The spirit of my wolf form will probably attack you. But killing it should do the trick."

It all seemed too simple. Vilkas gave Kodlak one more glance before riffling through his bag. He tossed the head into the basin with no ounce of ceremony. "Let's hope this works," he muttered as he lit a match and tossed it in. The head suddenly burst into blue flame, causing Vilkas to jump back.

The room went oddly dark. Vilkas turned his head to see if Kodlak was still there. Unsurprisingly, the old Harbinger was nowhere to be seen. Instead, the sounds of light footfalls reverberated around the room at an easy, lazy pace. Instinctively, Vilkas spun around the room to see where the noises were coming from. Again, nothing was there.

Like lighting, Vilkas felt an animal jump onto his back and go for his neck. Snarls filled his ears. Vilkas wasted no time in grabbing the animal's front paws and hefting it over his head. With a fluid movement, Vilkas used his momentum to toss the animal across the room.

The Nord was able to unsheathe his sword as the wolf got up from the ground. In only a few moments, the wolf was already running towards him. The Nord yelled as loud as he could as he took a swing at the wolf. The blade connected with the wolf's side much to Vilkas' satisfaction. Again, the swing sent the wolf flying.

Heart pounding against his chest, the Nord rushed towards the animal, arms raised high over his head. The wolf was still trying to get up from the ground when he noticed. Its face contorted into an ugly snarl as it watched the Nord charging it. Vilkas grinned wildly when he felt the blade connect, sinking into the wolf's insides.

The creature howled in pain and started crawling off towards the back of the room. Vilkas felt no hurry. He stalked it slowly and held his sword low towards the ground. The Nord looked down at the wolf and a feeling of cold nothingness washed over him.

Vilkas imagined that he would have felt angry.

But there was just nothing.

The wolf screamed one last time as Vilkas brought the sword down its neck. He let go of the grip and stepped back. The sword landed on the ground with a clatter.
He still felt empty, but at least it was over with.

"That wasn't your best work."

Vilkas turned around to see that Kodlak was back. The old man was grinning widely. Maybe it worked. "How do you feel?"

"Well," Kodlak paused, "I do feel a bit lighter, less paranoid. Perhaps it did. I can't really tell until I finally pass over to Sovngarde."

Vilkas grimaced, "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I suppose not."

"Well," Vilkas paused, gesturing towards the room around them, "Aren't you supposed to disappear now? Something like that?"

Kodlak paused and looked around the room. "I suppose so. Are you going to wait here for the time being?"

"May as well," Vilkas said. He sat down next to the basin and leaned his head back. "I didn't realize how exhausted I'd feel after this. Maybe Valleri had a point."

"So, the Imperial is here with you?"

"Yeah, I asked her to wait outside. I think she has a concussion."

"It seems she hasn't changed much. Is Farkas doing well too?"

Vilkas hummed affirmatively, "He and Ysolda got married not too long ago."

A smile came to Kodlak's face again, "That's wonderful. I'm glad the two of them are together. they make fine couple."

"That they do."

"Is there a new Harbinger?"

Vilkas breathed out sharply, reluctant to reply. "None of the Circle wanted to do it and no one else seemed qualified. We all agreed that the Harbinger would show up eventually. There's no rush to it, right?"

"You're absolutely right. The Companions seem to be doing fine. To be honest, I was expecting the worst."

The younger man laughed bitterly, "I'll let the others know."

Kodlak shook his head, "Please don't. If any one of them believed you, they'd probably barge in here to complain."

"You know, I won't say much about what happened. I'll probably just mention it to Aela and Farkas and that'll be that."

"Good lad," Kodlak murmured. "Do you remember the last time we talked before I died?"

Vilkas narrowed his yes, "Vaguely. Why?"

"It doesn't matter too much, I guess. Vilkas, you're brash and hot tempered and get ahead of yourself too often. Sometimes you go off without thinking about the people around you. But at least you're making an effort. Most people never do. So, don't get too down about what's happening." The old ghost looked wistfully towards Ysgramor's sarcophagus. "It's time."

Vilkas sighed. Suddenly his arms and legs felt heavy. He hated it, but still, Vilkas muttered a few quiet words. "I'm glad it worked then."

"Yes." The Harbinger turned towards Vilkas one last time, lazy grin over his face. "One last thing before I go, Vilkas."

"Yeah?"

"Get yourself clean. You're not meant to be werewolf. You'll start feeling better once you get yourself cleansed."

Vilkas pulled his legs close to his chest and frowned. He didn't say anything as he watched the ghost walk off a few more steps and begin to disappear. Kodlak's form dissipated like fog and in moments Vilkas couldn't see him at all.

The Nord's eyelids suddenly felt very heavy. Perhaps he was more tired than he realized. Vilkas didn't realize his eyes had closed until he was about to fall asleep.

Maybe a few minutes of rest wasn't so bad?

…

"Vilkas. Vilkas!"

It was the shaking that woke him up. He groaned in protest, keeping his eyes closed.

"Come on, you oaf!"

The hand grasping his shoulder tightened. Again, Vilkas only groaned. He wasn't going to get up for anything.

"Dibella's breath, this isn't funny anymore, Vilkas."

The intruder slapped him across the cheek. Finally, Vilkas cracked an eye open. Valleri was kneeling above him, concern written all over her face. The Nord did feel a tad bit guilty for just lying there.

The Imperial sighed, "Gods, I was worried about you."

"What for? I'm fine."

Vilkas watched as Valleri's face contorted into a scowl. "Marcel and I heard yelling then this crash. When I went to check, the door was locked." She paused, looking back over her shoulder. "I had to pick the lock!"

Sitting up straight, Vilkas mustered a tired grin. "Look, Val, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

"You mean it?"

"Yeah."

She paused, narrowing her eyes. "The cure worked then?"

Vilkas could only nod his head before rubbing his eyes. The room was brighter than he remembered. The smile on Valleri's face was brighter still.

"It worked! It fucking worked!" Valleri's smile softened as she helped Vilkas up. "Does this mean we can go home now?"

Vilkas rolled his with some amount of fond exasperation. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

…

Aicantar almost missed it. Yeah sure, he knew where the pages were from and who wanted them translated. Aicantar was smart. But he almost missed it. Maybe it was because he didn't translate anything in order and that he was just busy with other stuff.

He wasted in no time running down to Calcelmo's work station by the ruins. Guards yelled at him as he ran into them and the courtiers looked at him with confusion.

"Uncle!"

The old Altmer only regarded his nephew with annoyance. "What is it now, Aicantar?"

"Fire me. Now, quick!"

"What?"

"Fire me. Kick me out of the laboratory! I don't care what you do, just hurry!"

Calcelmo turned to look at him, face contorted into a frown. "Slow down, boy. Explain yourself properly."

"The Thalmor and Valleri! It's all starting to make sense now," Aicantar shouted. He glanced around the cavernous room with a paranoid glint in his eye before turning back to Calcelmo. "They think Valleri's dead. I could tell her and they wouldn't even know."

"What did the Thalmor want with Alastaros' apprentice?"

"They want to start another war."

Calcelmo prompted Aicantar to pause again. "Everyone knows that, Aicantar. Tell me something I don't already know."

Aicantar gulped nervously. "If the I tell Valleri where her necklace is before the Thalmor finds out she's alive or where it is, she could prevent another war."

"You sound like a mad man. Where did you get this idea?"

The younger Altmer slapped his face with disappointment. Of course, Calcelmo didn't remember. "Those papers Ondolemar gave me. They're pages of an old diary. One of the Falmer who helped hide the necklace wrote them. This woman was one of the last people to see it!"

"Rather exciting discovery, Aicantar. How'd those Thalmor people get a hold of it?"

"I told you already. Cyrenial followed us to Mzinchaleft then almost killed Valleri."

"Oh right," Calcelmo trailed off. He glanced back at the machinery he was working on and continued. "You know if this Cyrenial fellow is really part of the Thalmor and is seriously tracking this artifact down, he'll want results. He wouldn't just send off his only copies of the source material to another person if he wasn't sure he'd get the information he needed."

"I know. That's why I have to get out of here. And I want you to exile me or whatever it is so you don't get involved more than you have to."
Calcelmo shook his head. "No, no. The Thalmor would question me anyways. That doesn't mean I don't think you should take this information to your friend"

Aicantar narrowed his eyes, "Well, what then?"

"Copy down what you know and leave the rest up to me. Go find this necklace and what not. Make archeological history."

"Are you sure you can give us enough time to get the necklace?" Aicantar questioned.

His uncle shrugged. "I've dealt with worse. Go on, get your copies and go. I don't want to see until you're on some sort of government watch list."

"Okay, fair. But I really don't want this tracing back to you."

"I'll be fine."

"Uncle!"

"Fine," Calcelmo relented. "Since you're being strangely insistent, you're fired. Never come back. just remember to not tell your mother. She'd have my skin and I have enough problems as it is."

Aicantar felt himself grin. "Pleasure working for you, uncle!"

The old Altmer grumbled in response. Aicantar was sure he wouldn't get much more of response. Instead of wasting more time, he went back up to the old tower to start transcribing the diary. Excitement was building in his chest, a feeling Aicantar hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, he was a part of something bigger than he'd ever hope for. Valleri would ecstatic when he told her the good news. Hopefully Calcelmo would hold up his end of the bargain.