Loredas, 5th day of Sun's Height, 4E 202

My chest tightened as I entered Whiterun, alert to every move and noise around me. The market bustled with the usual vendors selling their wares to eager customers. Some familiar faces waved to me as I passed by. I tried returning their greetings, all while my heart raced. I didn't deserve their friendliness and openness. They wouldn't be so kind if they witnessed what happened in Falkreath.

My mind wandered to thoughts of home. I pictured myself staying with my girls, pretending what happened with Sinding didn't exist, and that Krisvar was a drunken dream. I pushed onwards, convincing myself that I needed to tell the Companions I quit. As soon as I got home, I would retire my armor. I couldn't become the monster Hircine said I was.

The terrible recollection of Hircine's words was enough to make me lose my nerve before I could make it up the steps of the Wind District. I returned to Breezehome, bolting the door behind me. I called out to Lydia and the girls, but no one was home. Good, it's better I'm alone for this.

I went upstairs and opened the chest at the foot of my bed, placing all of my armor inside of it. Tomorrow, I will sell all of my weapons, along with the bow. I have no need for such things anymore. For how much I pushed to prove myself to the Companions, and for all the effort I put into honing my skills, it was a shame. My father's words came back to me—we don't choose what we are, but I was choosing not to be a monster. Shame or not, this is what it was to be.

I pulled the Ring of Hircine out of my satchel, contemplating how to rid myself of it. As far as my knowledge on enchanting went, there was no way to successfully disenchant a Daedric artefact. The only being that could remove an enchantment was the Daedra that blessed it. Perhaps a Vigilant of Stendarr would know what to do with a ring like this one. If I do that, will I provoke Hircine's wrath even further? I questioned, still gazing at the ring. My addled mind couldn't think of any adequate solution. I shoved the cursed ring into the chest along with my armor, and locked it, hiding the key where the girls couldn't find it.

Satisfied, I returned downstairs and poured myself some wine. My father was right about me all along. These past months, I assumed I could change my fate and break free of the expectations he set for me long ago. Skyrim was my chance to not become like him; he was broken in spirit, with no light left inside of him. I swore I wouldn't become like him—such delusions! For my arrogance, the gods punished me. I wasn't a capable warrior. I was a healer who fooled herself into believing she could become a warrior.

But Hircine picked you because you were capable, a tiny voice reminded me. It didn't matter, capable or not. If I continued along the same path, I would shed more blood and prove the Daedric prince right.

Someone knocked at the door. I stiffened and held onto my drink. Another knock, this time more urgent. Don't be deceived. What if it's whoever Krisvar is working for? The panic bubbled. I reached for my blade, but remembered I had none. Damn it, I should always carry a dagger on me, I cursed.

"Open up, new blood."

Vilkas. The wineglass shook in my hands. The Companions discovered what happened with Sinding. The more I reflected on my actions, the worse I felt. If I had to go in front of the Companions and explain what happened, I would unravel. No, I couldn't let him in. I willed myself to stay quiet, hoping that would be enough to drive him away.

"We know you're in there," Vilkas insisted.

I heard Vilkas' sigh of annoyance when I said nothing. Someone else knocked, gentler than before.

"Anyaie, it's me. Can you please come out?" Farkas asked.

My resolve wavered, if only a bit. I didn't want to deny Farkas after everything he did for me. Then again, this was no small request. My encounter with Hircine and the shifter would disappoint him. If it had been him, he would have done the noble thing, whatever that was. He was good in that regard, and the last thing I needed was to see his disappointment as I recounted my night in Falkreath. So, I remained silent.

"This won't take long. If you want to go back home after, you can. Just come talk to us first. Please," Farkas added.

What if it isn't about Sinding at all and I'm being paranoid? I wondered. Farkas wasn't a liar, and Vilkas would have been forceful regardless of the circumstances.

"Kodlak wants to see you," Farkas added.

That did me in. I couldn't deny the Harbinger.

The sight of the twins greeted me as I opened the door. Vilkas had his customary scowl and Farkas frowned. I faced them, unsure of what to say or how to react to their presence. I looked to Farkas for reassurance, but didn't find any.

"Follow us," Vilkas ordered, and I did as I was told.

We arrived at Jorrvaskr. The mead hall was empty, and I followed the twins to the living quarters.

The Circle wants to see me, I concluded. My instinct proved right as I entered Kodlak's quarters and saw Aela, Skjor, and Kodak. Farkas closed the door as soon as we entered, Vilkas taking his place next to his shield-siblings. That was when it hit me—no one looked pleased. I imagined that I would have to contend with them telling me I did an honorable thing killing the shifter and bringing closure to the girl's family. Their stony expressions were more unnerving than their praise.

"We have a lot to discuss, my girl," Kodlak said.

Keep your voice steady. Stand tall. You don't have to be proud of your actions, but you will not appear weak, I thought, checking all my tics and habits.

"It appears we do. I'll take it you summoned me because of the shifter in Falkreath," I said.

"Indeed. The matter of the shifter raised questions about your loyalties."

"My loyalties? How so?"

"Are you a Silver Hand, or are you not?" Skjor demanded.

"A Silver Hand?"

"Someone who hunts those with the beast blood," Kodlak answered, shooting Skjor a sharp look. "Are you a part of them?"

"No, I've never even heard of them," I answered.

"Yet you took a shifter's life," Aela remarked.

She and Skjor stood on defense, ready to spring into action if I made a wrong move. My shoulders tensed, and I had the urge to reach for a weapon, then remembered I was unarmed. I would be stupid to take down a group of Skyrim's finest warriors unarmed, but I wouldn't hesitate to defend myself. Before it came to that, I needed to diffuse the situation.

"I didn't intend on it," I answered, and turned to Vilkas. "Siddgeir wanted me to deal with bandits, then asked me to take care of the shifter."

Vilkas nodded. "So we were told. The Jarl sent a letter expressing his gratitude. However true that is, it doesn't change the fact that you have a shifter's blood on your hands."

This wasn't how I expected the conversation to happen. No, it was worse than what I imagined. I didn't think the Companions would be sympathetic towards the shifter. In fact, I thought they would be pleased that I followed the Jarl's orders and avenged the little girl. It was strange, yet somehow, their anger made it more unbearable. I still needed to defend myself. The shame and panic threatened to overtake me as the memories of a few nights ago resurfaced.

"Let's get something clear. I didn't want to take his life away," I snarled, directing my anger at Vilkas.

"Why did you do it?" Skjor asked.

"I didn't have much of a choice!" I answered, losing my patience. "I'm not some werewolf hunter like you all seem to think I am. The Jarl asked for my help with the matter. He said he would double my gold…"

"Oh, so the money motivated you?" Vilkas cut in.

"Yes! For the Harbinger! That gold is worth at least two Daedra hearts. If that potion works, and I'm right, it means I have the cost of the next batch covered."

Aela relaxed a bit, her posture not quite as aggressive as it was before. "You've been good to us, Dragonborn, and I don't want to believe that you're not trustworthy. That said, this is a convenient defense."

"Aela's right. We can't afford to not be suspicious, and this is suspicious," Skjor agreed.

"You're being too kind," Vilkas snapped. "I never trusted you, whelp. I wanted to trust you. I tried and…"

"There's no reason not to, Vilkas! For shit's sake, did everything we go through not teach you anything?" I demanded.

"I know how the evidence looks, son, but you haven't given her a fair chance. In fact, we should all be giving her a fair chance," Kodlak said.

"I can't agree with that, Harbinger. We experienced an outsider trying to destroy us once, and I won't stand for it happening again," Vilkas said.

I growled at him. Between the annoyance, the stress, everything clawed at me. "I have no intentions of doing any of that! Godsdamn it! I don't understand what has you all so suspicious about the shifter and my association to these… Silver Hands, or whatever they're called, but I didn't want to kill him! I even spared him, at first! And then…"

My voice trailed off. Hircine's presence, Bleak Falls Barrow, all that blood in the grotto meshed into one flashback. The memory of Hircine's laughter rang in my ears. The pungent smell of blood and dead wolf came back to me, and intensified as my trembling hands skinned Sinding's corpse. Stop trembling. Don't be weak, I reminded myself, trying to steady my breathing.

"Take it easy on her," Farkas warned.

"You're one to talk. We wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for you," Skjor snapped.

Vilkas lunged forward, getting in Skjor's face. "This again? How many times does he have to ask for your forgiveness?"

"Vil. It's okay," Farkas reassured him. The hurt and guilt on his face spoke the opposite. Normally, I would have cared more. I should have stuck up for him, but the memories of those hunters' corpses strewn like bloody rag dolls still tormented me.

Skjor pushed Vilkas back and said, "Stop trying to defend your brother. He knows it's his fault."

"Skjor, enough. You shouldn't bring up old wounds while dealing with new ones. Such things tear shield-siblings apart," Kodlak warned.

"And so did his actions," Aela said.

"It was an accident!" Vilkas exclaimed.

"Well-intentioned, accidental, or not, it doesn't change how much blood was shed, and the shield-siblings we lost."

"But dragging the past doesn't change the present."

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk," Aela scolded, arms crossed. "Whatever the new blood is or isn't, you've let old grudges cloud your view of her from the beginning."

What is going on? What did Farkas do? I wondered.

"Enough! All of you! Our past is not the new blood's concern, but our future is." Kodlak said.

It soothed the Circle's rage, and the four of them became silent after muttering half-hearted words of apology.

Kodlak turned his focus to me again. "Your actions trouble you. Why is that?"

I stayed silent and shook my head. It was too shameful. The watered-down version I gave Krisvar wouldn't suffice. They would see right through it. Did Krisvar even believe it? Did he play along just to use me? The shame doubled, tripled. How many times was I played within these last few days?

Farkas stood next to me. He's not on my side. He will stand with his shield-siblings and his brother over me. His touch was gentle, just a small brush on my arm. It was comforting in a way I hadn't expected.

"You need to answer Kodlak," he urged.

"I can't say it," I said.

"No one's going to hurt you."

"How do you…"

"I do because I'm here." When I didn't answer, he added. "If you say you didn't want to kill him, I believe you. Whatever made you do it must have been bad."

Farkas was the one who said I needed to be open and honest. There was no future with the Companions for me regardless of what happened, but I wouldn't let Farkas down. I gathered my courage, swallowed the lump in my throat, and explained what happened with Sinding.

"The shifter… he didn't want to kill the little girl. He stole a ring from Hircine's hunters that he thought would help control his transformations. Hircine cursed the ring, and he had no control over his beast form. It was stronger than him. I tried interceding with Hircine, but the Daedric Prince wouldn't have it and wanted his hide." I looked to Farkas, who nodded, giving me the encouragement I needed to continue. "I didn't want to, but the shifter, Sinding, lost control. It was too much to witness. I did what the Lord of the Hunt asked, but I hated every moment. I even killed Hircine's other hunters for it."

"Did Hircine punish you for that?" Kodlak asked.

"No. He cursed me for refusing his blessing. He damned my pack, and said that the beast blood would torment me at every step. I… I'm not a shifter, and I have no pack, but still, it's…" my voice faltered. I had no pack, and I had no intentions on taking the blood after I saw what it did to Sinding. But Hircine would find a way, even if that meant taking away what was dearest to me.

"You've said enough. As far as I can tell, she's no Silver Hand. Besides, no Silver Hand would do what she's done for Kodlak," Farkas insisted

"You're right and… w-wait… why do you all care so much about what I did with the shifter?" I asked, my voice so small.

The Companions didn't answer me, but the answer was obvious. A nervous laughter tore right through me. This is a joke. This has to be a joke. By the Nine please make it a joke, I prayed. No one said anything, an uncomfortable silence looming between the Circle and I. No, not them. It can't be. But I knew it, I knew it the same way that I knew Hircine wasn't lying about the bow. It hit me harder than a punch to the gut and almost winded me as much.

"You're not… you're not…" I stammered.

"We are shifters," Kodlak confirmed.

"Master!" Vilkas exclaimed.

"There's no sense in denying the truth to her, my boy," Kodlak said.

My vision darkened as I hit the floor.

...

I was in Kodlak's bed when I woke up. The world was a blur, becoming clearer as I rubbed my eyes. My head didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. In fact, it didn't hurt at all, surprising considering I must have hit the floor after… shit… My head throbbed after all at the memory of Kodlak confirming the Companions were shifters.

So they concluded that if I killed Sinding, I would kill them too. It seemed laughable when I had such limited experience with manbeasts, but nothing about this situation made me want to laugh. Far from it. I tried reconciling the image of noble warriors with the bloodthirsty beasts. It was impossible. They were capable of what Sinding did, maybe even worse.

My fears turned to anger. Anyone following in Hircine's footsteps was not worthy of the honor of being a Companion. It infuriated me that they were all pretending to be honorable warriors when they weren't. Especially. Kodlak. How could he allow the blood? Were the other Companions aware? Wait, that meant Skjor and Aela, all those missions together… were they hunting? Farkas… gods… with his strength… in beast form… and Vilkas—Vilkas! That damned hypocrite! And to think I tried proving myself as noble when they were liars all along!

Farkas came into the room with hesitance, like he was approaching a feral animal. His meekness didn't fool me. No manbeast was docile. Sinding, the man, might have been a timid thing, but a warrior with years of training, born and raised at Jorrvaskr, was not. He's not on my side. He was never on my side.

"Anyaie," he whispered, laying a hand on my arm. I slapped his touch away, and he balked.

"Get away from me," I hissed.

"Let me talk," he pleaded.

"No! I don't want to hear anything anymore!"

"Anyaie…"

"Leave me alone!" I shouted, and Kodlak's room shook, a couple of baubles falling off the shelves.

Vilkas flung Kodlak's room door open, and my body trembled with rage.

"And you!" I shrieked, pointing a shaking finger at Vilkas. "For months you've gone on telling me that hiding something made me dishonest! And all this time, all this damned time, you were hiding something too! That night, in the yard… by the Nine…"

"New blood…" he started.

"Don't you dare fucking 'new blood' me! My name is Anyaie! You're a godsdamn hypocrite, Vilkas!"

Kodlak entered, frowning at the sight of me clutching onto his sheets, my knuckles turning white. It was so hard to picture this man, who I thought was honorable, as one of Hircine's. I didn't want to direct my anger at him, and his illness lingered at the back of my mind, yet the betrayal still stung.

"Let me talk to her," Kodlak told the twins.

"Harbinger," Farkas protested.

Kodlak laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Leave her be."

Vilkas didn't need to be told twice, yet Farkas still gave me one regretful parting glance. His well-being didn't concern me anymore. He told me not to hide myself, but he hid a part of himself too. So many pieces of information, things I noticed, wove themselves into a complete picture. It burned me. I cared about this man. Oblivion, I trusted him, and he shattered that. This was worse than anything I ever did to them.

"Do the others know?" I demanded, as Kodlak sat at the corner of his room.

"No. It's just the Circle."

"I don't understand. Why would you—wait—how long? When? Or just… why?"

"Nothing I will say will make this easier or better. Finding out about the blood is hard in the best circumstances. With everything that's happened in the last few days, I can't grasp how much more difficult it is."

His sympathy made everything worse. A part of me wanted nothing more than for him to explode, threatening me with my life if I dared expose him or the Companions. It would have made everything simpler—but no. Kodlak sat serene as ever, still the soothing presence he ever was. It didn't quell my rage at their duplicity, although it quieted me. A part of me wanted to believe that there was a part of them that wasn't like Sinding. I didn't think I could.

"You've seen a lot, my girl. I understand you might not want to continue with the Companions. Before you make that choice, think it over."

"I don't… I can't continue with the Companions. Even if I wanted to… even if I was okay… my pack…how?" I stammered

"I can't answer those questions for you. I want you to take the space that you need. When you're ready, you will give us your answer."

"How are you so sure I'll be quiet? Or that I won't join the Silver Hand?"

Kodlak sighed. "I'm not."

"And you'll let me walk out of Jorrvaskr? Unharmed?"

"I may have the blood, but I'm no monster."

I nodded, numb. Sinding didn't seem like a monster either, yet he killed that little girl and slaughtered Hircine's hunters. But then, I murdered those hunters too. I was unsure of what else to say, and I didn't have it in me to answer my own questions. The fatigue washed over me, and I felt it in my bones. I need to get away from here and be alone. I can't handle anymore today.

"Go back home and rest. And thank you for everything, Anyaie. You've done a lot for me and I will never forget that."

I don't remember what I answered, though I was torn as I walked out of the mead hall. This man had given me a chance when few others would. I wouldn't forget his kindness either. It didn't change that he was a shifter, and it ate away at me. Each step to Breezehome was like I was in a daze as I realized my world transformed into a waking nightmare.

...

Fredas, 16th day of Rain's Hand, 4E 203

"Just walk me through the details once more," I said.

Athis laid on his bed, Danica tending to his wound. The guards alerted her in time to Athis' injury, so the Dunmer's injury wouldn't have any lasting consequences—not that it reassured me. The guilt tiptoed around my thoughts as my shield-brother laid back in bed, his red eyes on the healed flesh. No one should have injured Athis, yet it happened, and it raised more questions and made old worries resurface, worries that I thought I took care of four months ago.

Danica glared at me, her hazel eyes burning with annoyance. "You of all people should know that he shouldn't exert himself right now."

"There will be plenty of time to rest, priestess," Athis assured her, flashing her a kind smile. "The Harbinger is troubled by these events, and so am I. She is only doing her duty."

The priestess of Kynareth's expression softened, and she sighed. "Very well, but make it quick. Come see me when you're done, Harbinger."

Danica exited the room, giving me the chance to talk to Athis alone.

"If any of this exhausts you, tell me. There is no shame if you do. Your body is healing," I told him.

"I'll be fine," Athis promised, waving his hand to dismiss my concerns. "What would you like to hear again?"

"You were on your way back from a job, right?" I asked.

Athis nodded. "Exactly. When I came back to Whiterun, it was like there were eyes watching me. I saw nothing. I should have cast a spell to detect life, but I brushed it off, chalking it up to fatigue. By the time I made it to Jorrvaskr, the bastard appeared, drew his blade, and lodged it into my side. I never noticed it," Athis confessed, shaking his head in shame.

"Don't be hard on yourself, brother. This man was well-armed, and he was stealthy. We've all had foes catch us unaware."

"But we shouldn't. We're Companions. We're trained for this," he insisted, while yawning.

I laid a hand on his shoulder. "I will let you get your rest."

Athis flashed me a grateful smile, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. "I just need a quick nap."

"Take all the time you need," I said, his eyes were already closing by the time I finished speaking.

Danica waited for me outside of the whelp quarters. In a rare moment of quietude, she leaned back against the wall, her eyes closed. The woman never caught a break. With the ongoing war, she always had her hands busy. I didn't envy her. Healing was taxing, and it took its toll on the healer if they weren't careful.

"Priestess," I called out, and her eyes snapped open.

"Forgive me, Harbinger," she said, her cheeks turning red. "It's been a long day."

"Don't apologize. I see your efforts, and I appreciate you tending to my shield-brother. I'll take over from here. Is there anything you want to disclose before I take over?"

"Nothing more than the usual. I'll come to check in on him tomorrow, for good measure," she said.

"I don't think that's necessary. You have many others that need your help, and…"

"I insist."

I found it odd because the wound shouldn't warrant further investigation. She closed the skin, leaving little more than a faint scar. The hooded figure's dagger didn't go deep enough for it to cause damage to any internal organs either. Huh, I'm rustier at healing than I remember, I conceded, not quite believing it after how much effort I put into healing Vilkas. Still, if Danica wanted to be cautious, there was no reason to argue with her.

"Very well. Come again tomorrow."

Before Danica left, she had one other thing to add. "Your shield-brother was lucky the man was sloppy. The blade didn't go deep enough to hit his lung. I can't fathom who would harbor such a grudge against the Companions, but I pray they are dealt with."

Sloppy, or sending a message? I wondered, the question following me as I joined the Circle in my quarters. How strange that Kodlak once summoned me here to discuss the matter of the blood. His quarters were my own now, and I was doing the same. I never imagined I would have to do this after I ended the cycle. It was foolish of me to assume that I resolved the matter—no, it wasn't only foolish. It was lazy.

Three anxious faces greeted me as I entered the room, not that any of them would admit it. If I wasn't close to Aela and the twins, I would never have been able to tell. I was just as sure they saw the discomfort play out on my face, and my uncertainty at how to address the matter. Not for the first time since I became Harbinger, I wished Kodlak were there. He always had the right words to guide us while setting us straight.

"It seems trouble has fallen on our doorstep once more," I said, feeling the words were too inadequate to capture the nervous energy in the room.

"Silver Hand?" Farkas asked.

"Not possible. We took care of them—mostly," Vilkas answered.

"Mostly? You said you wiped them all out. Now you mean to tell me you didn't consider checking if any strayed off?" Aela asked, crossing her arms.

The memories of Driftshade Refuge resurfaced. Vilkas' lips tightened, and I figured he was remembering the same thing I was. All we disclosed to Farkas and Aela was that we wiped out the Silver Hand. We spared them the details, deciding that silence was better than a recollection of the blood we spilled that day. I shook my head, as if it would help shake the memories away.

"I didn't think of it. My mind was clouded with grief, and my primary concern was retrieving what was ours," I lied.

Aela flashed me a disbelieving look. I agreed that not checking for survivors was sloppy, but it wasn't a priority.

I then added, "It might not even be the Silver Hand. Vilkas and I saw a white stag on our way back to Rorikstead."

"Hircine?" Aela asked.

"It can't be anything else," I admitted.

"Your curse?" Farkas asked, knitting his brows together. "I don't get it. I thought we settled that."

"If I had to guess, I broke one curse, but not the other."

All color drained from Vilkas' face as the reality of the stag's appearance settled in. He balled his trembling fist. He must have been in as much of a hurry as I was to get back to Jorrvaskr, ignoring the implications and—wait, that meant he didn't hear Hircine's words.

"Are you sure?" Vilkas demanded, almost as though he were pleading for it not to be real.

"More than sure. The stag spoke to me, telling me that my pack and I couldn't escape his grasp."

"You mean all that work was for nothing?" Farkas asked.

The dejection in his voice broke my heart. For the longest time, Farkas carried so many burdens on his shoulder. That night I cured him of the blood marked a new beginning for him. It was the first time his smile was bright after the pain we endured. Within moments, I extinguished that.

"Not all for nothing. We honored Kodlak's last wish. If this is truly Hircine, and not the Silver Hand, we need to interrogate the attacker. They might have some answers for us. Aela, come with me. You two, stay behind. This shouldn't take us too long," I said.

Farkas and Vilkas nodded in assent, and Aela and I made our way to Whiterun's jail. My eyes scanned the Wind District. Everything was as it should be, despite the earlier incident. The unease trailed me wherever I went. What if this is a set up and someone is watching us right now? The paranoia was all too familiar, and I hoped I would never have to experience it again.

Once we made it to the jail, the guards led us to the attacker. Aela and I approached the man's cell. There was nothing extraordinary about him; he was a typical Nord with blonde hair and pale eyes. The guards stripped him of his armor, leaving him with the plain, tattered clothes not dissimilar to what I once wore in Helgen. Aela let out a soft growl, and her eyes flashed gold before shifting to their usual green.

"You're a child of Hircine," Aela growled.

"Aren't we all?" the man asked.

"Who sent you?" I demanded.

The man remained silent. I snarled, reaching through the bars to hold him by the neck. It wasn't the time to trifle with me, or my shield-siblings. He smirked, not fighting back at first. I squeezed my hand around his neck, and he choked.

"I asked you a question and I expect an answer," I demanded.

"You… don't… scare… me…"

My hands tightening around his neck as I dragged him closer to the bars. "I'll skin your hide right off your back, shifter. I've done it once and I can do it again. So I'll ask once more: who sent you?"

"Hircine," he choked, turning a painful shade of blue. "He wants… your blood…"

I should have pressed for more information, but what he revealed was enough; he wasn't a Silver Hand and Hircine still had his claws in me. The Daedric Prince was using other shifters to wreak havoc on my shield-siblings and me.

I released my grasp on the prisoner, and he gasped for air.

Aela took over the interrogation. "And? Do you commune with Hircine?"

"I don't have that honor. Only she does."

"She?"

"Our leader. Perhaps you remember her, Harbinger."

He wasn't making any sense. A female werewolf? Sinding is the only other shifter I've met apart from the Companions. The problem was that I sensed no lie. He was sure of himself and his knowledge, and there was no bluff. Aela shot me a questioning glance, waiting for me to clarify. She guessed he was telling the truth too.

I didn't look at her, nodding at the shifter. Confusion would only make me seem weak and afraid. Whoever this unknown female shifter was, she thought we met. In any other situation, I would assume this was a misunderstanding, but the man said too many things that lined up with the Daedric Prince's curse. More than that, I felt it in my gut. This prisoner was no madman—he had a purpose.

"You've spoken truthfully, shifter. For that, I will spare your life,"

"How generous," he sneered.

Aela's dagger shot out of nowhere, and I restrained her grip. "My shield-sister and I want nothing more than to skin you alive, but we will refrain. I'll let you walk out of Whiterun with your hide. In return, you will send your leader a message."

"Fine. What is it?" he spat.

"She won't have our blood. Neither will Hircine."

The man nodded. I didn't like letting him go, but I needed this woman—whoever she was—to know that my shield-siblings and I wouldn't go without a fight.

The man put his armor back on. It was amongst the finest armor I had ever seen. It was intricate, yet still practical. It was black like ebony—no that couldn't be it. Unless it was and the armor was enchanted so that it muffled all sound. I was impressed, and terrified. This female shifter could amass a group of werewolves and provide them with stellar armor. She was a well-organized woman. That didn't bode well for any of us.

I ordered the guards, and Aela, to escort the man out of the city.

"Stay safe and stay vigilant, sister," I said.

"You have nothing to worry about. If he tries anything…" Aela held up a finger, her nail transforming into a thick claw.

I nodded. Whatever my opinions on the beast blood were, it reassured me that Aela had that advantage.

I oversaw the guards and Aela until we got to the Wind District, where I returned to Jorrvaskr. No matter how much faith I had in Aela, I didn't trust that shifter. It wasn't a question of Aela's capability. If he dared try anything, the shifter wouldn't know what was coming for him. It still didn't ease all of my worries. Mara watch over them, I prayed, then entered the mead hall.

I had a hard decision to make. My pack was once the Circle. However, I wasn't Harbinger back then. Now it wasn't just Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas—Ria, Athis, Njada, and Torvar would be considered my pack. It didn't matter that none of them had taken the blood. They were bound to me as Harbinger, and therefore, they were fair game for my curse. We, as the Circle, once kept the blood a secret from the whelps. That needed to change. We needed to alert them to what we faced.

I filled the twins on what happened with the shifter, and they were not pleased with the news. It confirmed our worst suspicions, and it plunged us into a new cycle of bloodshed. But, there was one more thing on my mind.

"Once Aela gets back, we need to be honest with the others," I said.

"How honest?" Vilkas asked, hesitant.

"Everything."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Farkas questioned.

"Good idea or not, it's time they heard the truth. This affects their lives now."

The twins grimaced, not sold on this approach. I understood why. For all of their lives, the blood was a privilege that only the Circle had. It was a well-guarded secret, one that remained locked at Jorrvaskr for years until it wasn't. When Vilkas and I eliminated the Silver Hand and I cured the twins of the blood, we all thought our secret was safe once more. We were wrong.

"The stakes aren't the same as they were months ago. It's worse," I reminded them. "We owe it to the others."

"What if they leave and start causing trouble for us?" Farkas asked.

"I can't stop anyone from leaving, Farkas. I won't force anyone to stay either. However, I am not magnanimous like Kodlak. I won't hesitate to strike anyone who threatens us."

Vilkas pursed his lips. "What happens when that threat comes from within? What happens when it's the face of a shield-sibling you're fighting instead of some unknown Silver Hand hunter? Can you handle that?"

"We won't have a choice, will we? I don't like this and I wish it remained secret, but things have changed. I will not have my shield-siblings live in Jorrvaskr and serve as Companions if they don't know the truth. We owe it to them to tell them their lives are at stake, and why. Those who want to will stay. Those that don't will leave."

Aela entered and asked, "What are we discussing?"

"The Harbinger wants us to come clean to the whelps about everything," Vilkas answered.

"Everything?" she asked, turning to me for an explanation.

"I assume that Hircine's curse on my pack extends to the others too," I said.

"Then they have the right to know, unless you're too ashamed of your past," Aela said, directing her accusation at the twins.

Vilkas scowled at her and Farkas turned a deep shade of red.

"It's not a question of shame, sister," Vilkas lied.

"Oh? If you weren't ashamed, you wouldn't have had the Harbinger cure you of the blood. Admit it; you don't want to be honest because it means you would have to face up to your actions, and your pride can't stand that."

"And you have no shame?" Farkas asked.

"No. I take responsibility for my actions, beast blood or not. I don't need to run away from what I am."

"This isn't a question of shame," I cut in, not wanting to listen to this debate again. "Regardless of how any of us views the blood, the fact remains we all committed atrocities under its influence, justified or not. We are all putting ourselves on the line if we are honest. Tell me, is that not worth it if we can keep our shield-siblings safe?"

I was aware that I was asking for something risky, but I wouldn't let the Circle take the fall. We were in this position because of my actions in Falkreath. I promised myself I would shoulder most of the burden, no matter what the cost. This was the least I could do.

"Alright," Farkas conceded.

"Alright?" I asked.

"I don't think we have much of a choice. We should be honest. It's the honorable thing to do," he admitted.

"I will follow your lead, Harbinger, but I don't like this. This will divide us," Vilkas warned.

"The important thing is that we stand united. We will get through this, somehow."

It was a brave sentiment, and I put up a strong face, although the matter wasn't so simple. With that, we sought to gather the others. It was time they knew about the secrets that haunted the Circle.

A/N: Hey folks! My update schedule has changed, so I'll be updating every two weeks. Thanks for your understanding! Reviews are always welcome! Have a great weekend!