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Four

Farkas

My arms were shorter than they should have been. I realized after a moment, not mine.

A dream. I realized, spying a familiar scene. It was a dream that had been haunting my slumber for weeks. The newest nightmare of all.

I had two steel daggers gripped tightly in my hands, the leather of the handles fit perfectly to my fists. My daggers. After a moment I realized I wasn't alone; I, in fact, had an entire audience.

There was an opponent across from me, pacing me, stalking me, mirroring my every move. He wore heavy iron armor and a matching iron helmet that covered his face; he brandished an iron greatsword between us. We matched one anothers pace step for step. If he moved to the right, then so did I. When he alternated to the left I followed suit. It was a silent dance that was over before it began. Sweat dribbled down my back. It was hot here, my light clothes stuck to my body. I had no armor against this man's greatsword. I worked my jaw.

I was quick, agile, I could see every angle, every possible direction I could kill him from in a matter of moments. My thoughts calculated until I glimpsed the safest path as he stepped towards me; his greatsword was held high, threatening to crash down on my skull一

But I was faster than him. I lunged, sliding between his legs. My knife flashed, the other parrying his blow from slicing me in half. His sword plunged into the dirt where I had been. I rose to my feet just in time to witness the man crumple to the ground holding his neck as blood seeped between his fingers.

I turned to the crowd and bowed low, closing my eyes to drink in the roaring applause that erupted from all around me.

When I stood straight again everything had changed. There was snow, and a cold chill from a night breeze. I felt shrunk down, a child. I could smell the heavy scent of ash, blood, and death.

War.

"Get down girl." I heard a voice hiss. It held the telltale accent of a Khajit, I could see his form moving among the brush ahead of me. "I'm going to go find us a horse, stay here and don't move, girl."

I stayed crouched in the darkness where I was. The leaves from the bush covered me where the night may not. After a moment I was afraid, I stood slowly and heard a stick crack behind me. I turned and saw a man.

It was a man that I knew, I clawed from within the dream but it was useless. I knew that man.

"What are you doing out here alone child?" His voice hummed, he came closer and his torch made my face warm for a moment. I didn't say a word, fear crept up my throat. I should have listened.

"Did you hear me child?" He said, pulling me from the bush by my arm. He pulled my hood off my head and looked at me. "This is not a good place to be right now darling." He was older, not a day older than how I remembered him. I struggled through the veil of the dream.

He pulled my hood down from my face and paused.

"Oh." He said. "You're half blood."

I felt only fear, but the man looked thoughtful.

"You don't look it, only your ears give it away." He told me, as if we were speaking of the weather. "I have an idea that will help you, but it will be painful."

I blinked up at him, confused, afraid.

"Come here now sweetheart, this will only take a moment."

I was confused but I couldn't move. I stood frozen as the man grabbed me by the ears. I felt his palms getting warm. Then so hot all I could feel was the white hot pain that made me scream in agony and terror一

X

I sat straight up in a panic. My fingers went to my ears automatically but of course the skin there was still smooth. Unpointed, unburned, still human. I took a deep breath in an attempt to steady myself.

That man, that man in the dream had been my father. My father Jergen.

My brother and I hadn't seen him since he left to fight in the great war when I was a boy. Whoever's memories I was reliving every night, had somehow met my father. Perhaps they knew what had happened to him. Perhaps they could tell me where he had gone, maybe he was still alive. Perhaps I could go back to sleep and see more…

I took another deep breath, this one hurt my lungs; I knew that would be futile.

I looked down at my hands, bare like the rest of me. I had lost my gloves during my transformation… Shredded them to bits more than likely. It was alright that I hadn't gotten any payment for the job… even alright that I had lost my entire coin purse to the thief.

What wasn't alright was how much she had affected me.

I was a fool, and it was my fault our prisoner had escaped. Maybe if I had reacted faster, perhaps if I hadn't been frozen to the spot like a leering foolㅡ I shook my head in anger, as if that would dispel the feeling haunting me there.

Strangest of all was the uncanny feeling that I had met her before. I knew her… yet I was certain I had never laid eyes on her in my life. Who was she? My chest ached and my stomach twisted, I lurched forward and threw up whatever had been in my stomach. I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing I was in beast form the last time I had eaten. I tried not to smell anything at all as I wiped the remnants away and started gorging from my wine flask, which I pulled from the only bag left around my waist.

I had woken in the snow, high on a mountain side. The sun was just starting to rise, but had not yet made its appearance over the ridge of High Hrothgar. I pulled at the laces attaching my enchanted leather pouch still around my waist. It had been a gift from my brother for our last name day.

I pulled it open and I found my belongings within; it was an enchanted bag, one that had come in handy time and time again. It stored most of my items if I happened to turn. It also had a storage space enchantment that made it smaller than a coin purse but the storage space of a small chest. The bag had saved me a handful of times, but my gloves had simply been destroyed before the bag could suck them in. I was so grateful for it as I pulled out my furs and scrambled to get them onto my naked body. I was freezing; despite my beast blood, I felt the rise of goosebumps across every inch of my bare skin. I pulled on my boots with a sigh of relief. Much better.

After a long moment of fumbling, I had completely redressed. I pulled out my sword and planted it on my back. My fingers went to the bottom of the bag and I felt something unfamiliar and made of metal. I was surprised to find an amulet; I was sure I had seen it before. The metalwork was beautiful, and the center held a stone, yet I wasn't sure exactly what color it was. After a moment I realized I had seen this around Vignar's neck. My eyebrows pressed together. How had it gotten here? I remembered he had carried this bag from my room, briefly, before I had left. I wondered if he had given it to me on purpose or if it had truly fallen inside. I shoved it back into the pouch, letting it drop back down the bottom.

Either way, I would ask him once I was home. I looked around finally trying to gather my bearings. With a jolt I realized I was nowhere near Falkreath, or Riften for that matter.

I hadn't followed the thief south at all, I had run North. It seemed I was halfway to Dawnstar, just by running all night in my beast form. High Hrothgar stood tall in the distance, I could see Whiterun already flooded with sunlight far away from the massive shadow of it.

Relief washed over me. Then I mentally punched my own gut at the thought.

I knew I hadn't killed her. I would have remembered something so personal and vivid.

A stab of anger towards Vignar gave me pause. Not because of anything he had done, but what he had told me. It made horrible terrible sense now. I couldn't trust my beast, especially not after what I had faced last night. I wondered if it was, as Vignar had called it, imprinting. I had seen her with my own two eyes, and somehow I hadn't let my beast devour the both of us right then and there.

Vignar had been right, but he had also been so wrong.

Not being able to control my animal instincts was a mighty understatement to the battle I had fought within my own skull.

I hadn't felt the force of my werebeast come unhinged within me since my first turning; I wasn't prepared for it in the slightest. It was like my beast had been a man dying in the desert before, and she was the water. I hadn't even noticed how truly lifeless he had become. It was her fault he had become so… alive. It was like my brain, my very body, and being, were being ripped and torn into two different directions. I didn't want this, I didn't want her, I didn't even know her, but my werebeast definitely did.

He wanted control, even now he tried to overpower me. We both knew it was futile; he was desperate, frustrated, and furious. It was all directed at me, his fury fueling each grueling mental attack. I would not yield, I refused to let myself be consumed by him. I had seen a man go mad from his beast blood once, it was something I refused to allow. My grip around him was like an iron vice of willpower. He struggled on nevertheless.

The wind picked up, blowing my hair into my face. I whipped around when I heard the voice. I listened harder but heard nothing more. I was sure I had heard it, that name; I knew I had heard it before but I couldn't place where exactly.

"Eira." I said the name they had been shouting from the blackness of my dream.

The image of her was burned into my mind, it was the second time our gazes had collided last night that I had almost slipped. That was when my beast had lurched and I was frozen in a mental fight for both of our lives.

I remember her clearly, her face burned in the back of my mind. The woman was light skinned, her mask had fallen beneath her chin. Her eyes were wide in the darkness, I could see the faint light of the embers dancing off the yellows within her irises. Almost, wolf-like. Her hair was black as night, at least the strands that I could see. Her face was angular, yet also round, her cheeks were rosy pink from the cold. She had looked so elegant, even regal despite the simple attire she had been wearing. I wondered faintly if she had elven blood. I had caught a glimpse of jewelry glinting from beneath her hood somewhere. Her lips were pursed, her whole body wracked with tension. It took me a moment to remember the reason for that was me. I was the one she had been afraid of.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the image from my thoughts. I wasn't sure what disgusted me more: The fact that I had frightened her, or the fact that I cared I had. Thief or not, my body didn't seem to give a damn. My entire being had wanted to simply be in her presence; I hadn't been able to stop myself from following after the soldiers pursuing her.

My own thoughts had been lies to myself: I would make sure she was caught and brought to justice. I would follow the other men to ensure she was brought down. Yet the thought brought fire to my veins even now. I knew what I really wanted, I wanted to keep her safe. I didn't want them to lay a finger on her. I didn't want her to have any reason to be afraid… of anything or anyone.

I blinked and rubbed a hand down my face. I didn't even know this woman and this was what she had done to me. I had no idea who she was. All I knew was that she was a thief, a dishonorable trade to start with. I heaved a heavy sigh.

I couldn't believe she had taken my coin purse. I hissed angrily, snapped back to the present. It wasn't like she knew I was trying to protect her, fuck I didn't even know it until this moment. When she had taken my horse that's when my anger had destroyed what thin control I had seemed to have on my beast. He had gone insane, a rage that she had gotten away. How could I allow this to happen, yada yada. Before I shifted I made sure to lead my wolf as far north as I could. I didn't want him to double back while I wasn't in control. We were too far away by the time I allowed myself to surrender control and black out.

I would've been lying to myself if I said I did want him to track her down to be devoured; even if she did steal my coin purse… that wasn't what I wanted.

I walked back towards Whiterun, knowing it would be a long journey on foot.

When I saw her, it was as if Nirn had been shaken beneath me. It suddenly became hard to breath, my chest ached, my heart pounded in my ears. I knew even now, I would follow that woman to the ends of Nirn if I had to. I didn't know what it was, but my guts seemed to know. I had to find her, I had to know who she was. I blanched.

Just because my beast blood wanted to go frolicking to find her, didn't mean that was what I wanted.

I had to talk to Vignar. I wasn't sure what was going on but I knew he would have the answers I needed. He had seemed to know more about this subject than he was letting on. My beast was still more active than usual; even now I could feel his presence in the back of my head. If I didn't know any better, it seemed as if he were lying in wait, for what I wasn't sure, but it made me uneasy.

You should be. The voice snarled at me, making me trip and fall face first into the snow. I have waited too long for you to fuck it up for us now Farkas.

"Waited too long for what?" I demanded. "I am not a courier for your heartstrings beast." I snarled. "Know your place."

I got no response, I growled and hit the ground before getting up and keeping on. I thought about going to Winterhold, perhaps I could access their library. It wasn't like I could ask any real people about lycanthropy, as if reading the books wasn't obvious enough. I was still interested in what Vignar had said before. He had called it 'the split.' I wanted to know what he was talking about. I also needed to know more about this imprinting nonsense and how one could possibly stop it.

I sighed, perhaps even my brother would know something. He had read even more books than I.

I tried not to think of anything at all as I descended the mountain towards home.

XXX

It was almost dark when I finally reached home. As soon as I arrived at the main gate I knew there was something wrong.

There were more guards on duty than usual. I didn't ask, only pushed past them into the lower ring of Whiterun. There were still townsfolk about, the market place was just closing up for the day. The ones who were still roaming the streets kept their heads bowed, but I could see the strange looks in their faces from the glances they stole at me.

Something was not right.

When I finally pushed through the Jorrvaskr doors, there was silence to greet me. There was only one reason for such silence during supper: somebody had fallen. Every one of my shield-siblings sat staring down into their food, not one of them eating. Melancholy lay over the room like a wet cloth.

Fear gripped my chest. Who had it been? Which one of my shield siblings had I lost? Was it Skjor? Torvar? Athis? Aela? Where was my brother? I didn't see him among those eating. It felt like I had swallowed a stone.

An argument at the end of the hall drew my attention. Skjor, Aela, and Brill stood at the entrance to Vignar's room.

Aela was spitting in rage, "It was the damn Thieves Guild." Her teeth snapped shut, "I will make every one of them pay. I say we find their guild master and make him swallow rocks until he begs for death."

"We don't know for sure it was them." Brill was saying mildly. Aela's bright gaze rounded on him.

"How do we know it wasn't?" She demanded, seething. "They've been killing people left and right and all Maven Blackbriar does is protect those slimy bastards. Everyone knows she was in league with them before she became Jarl." Aela spit in the direction of Riften. "We should raid their hall and cleanse it of their filth. They've been a stain on Skyrim for far too long."

I felt my insides squirm. Their eyes turned to me as I came closer.

"What happened?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"I'm sorry brother." Aela began, her eyes suddenly tightening and flashing to the floor.

"Nobody is hurt, somebody has been murdered." Skjor cut in.

"My brother一" I heard myself say. My insides felt numb, I barely stopped my beast from lunging into existence.

They exchanged a glance.

"Your brother was due back this morning from his job in Windhelm, he has not returned." Aela informed me. My mouth felt like it was full of sawdust.

"Who?" I demanded, afraid.

"Last night somebody broke in and murdered Vignar while he slept." Skjor had trouble getting the words out clearly. I could tell he was also trying to control his temper.

The world seemed to rock beneath me, for the second time in one day. I didn't think I had heard him correctly. For a moment I thought he had said…

"I'm sorry, Farkas." Skjor said. "He really is gone."

Brill looked up at me with misty eyes from his seat.

"Gone." I repeated. As if that was the right word to use. Simply saying 'gone' made it sound like he would return after being lost in the woods. No, he was more than gone.

Vignar was dead.

XXX