Thought I might make myself known since there are about 20 of you who regularly read and keep up to date to my story.
So I give my thanks to you, random 20 individuals, who give me reason to write and continue my story. I'm truly glad you enjoy it.
Some notes for the reviews I've gotten:
I'm glad you liked my take on ¨The Night of Tears¨
The Lore surrounding Ysgramor has always been one of my many favorite stories and so I wanted to give it justice. I tried to write it with a poetic, rustic touch. Something I had never done before so it was very ¨experimental¨ to write, and enjoyable. So I'm glad I didn't disappoint.
I will definitely try it again, given the opportunity.
As for the ¨I ship your Dragonborn with Ria¨
I think it's pretty clear that it won't happen, considering my last chapter.
I actually tried to write a ¨Date-chapter¨ with the main car. and Ysolda dating, which I intended to release before Wuuthrad part 1. But after trying for a number of days I realized I SUCK at writing romans, haha. It all just felt awkward and off so I scrapped the entire chapter. Sorry about that. But in my mind the main car. and Ysolda has been dating for a while, so…
Happy to answer questions and hear your thought, so don't be afraid to leave a comment!
The Wolf
My axe feels lighter than before.
I balanced my great axe in my hands, shifting its weight left and right, as I sat in my chair. I barely remembered the ¨Ritual¨ when Skjor and Aela had ¨Turned¨ me. Skjor had under the protection of night taken me to the Underforge; a hidden cave beneath the Skyforge known only to the members of the Circle, where Aela had been waiting. Skjor had warned me beforehand of her appearance, yet as I entered the cave my heart had taken a skip in my chest as I saw her bestial form. At first, I had believed her to be Farkas, as memories from Dustman's Cairn had flushed my mind. But I promptly noted her more… feminine and slender form. Ss well as the lighter tone of her fur. That Skjor had reassured me of her identity didn't hurt either.
Skjor called it a ¨Blessing from Hircine,¨ a gift he believed should be presented any member of the Circle. Yet he had not forced it upon me, no, he had made it perfectly clear the decision was up to me and that my position in the Circle would be unaffected had I chosen to reject this gift. But I wasn't the one to deny myself power. After all, seeking power was the very reason I had joined the companions in the first place. And so I accepted.
Skjor had taken Aelas furred wrist in his hand and opened it with his dagger, filling a mug with her blood. Aelas eyes glowed sharply with yellow hunger and de deep growl left her throat with her every breath, as she watched me accept the mug Skjor offered me. He told me to drink deeply. The thick red liquid was disturbingl warm as it flowed down my throat, and the thought of it being blood almost made me gag as I forced myself to swallow. This is where my memories began to fail me, as couldn't remember seeing anything but sudden black darkness.
I did however remember the pain...
I didn't know if something had invaded me through her blood or if that something had always been there, sleeping within me until awakened by it. But I knew it wanted out. My stomach had twisted and turned, forcing me to my knees. The pain was so intence I didn't know if I was about to throw up or straight out die. I had clenched my stomach as my guts burned and stung inside me as if they were clawing themselves out through the skin of my belly. And when the spasms started… That's when I had wanted to die.
I had surely pissed and shat myself as even the cold stone floor against my body failed to sooth the torture I was experiencing, unable to even scream for the pain that ravaged my body. Every muscle I had tore and twitched as if my own body wanted to rip me asunder. And when the horrid cracking sound of my joints dislocating one after another started… that's when I had lost consciousness. Passed out from the pain alone.
Next thing I knew I was in a forest, staring at the morning sky halfway to Windhelm. Aela had been there to clothe me and aid me as I awoke.
That was almost a week ago now.
Skjor and Aela had spent the last couple of days teaching me about the changes my body had undergone.
And so far… I liked the changes.
First, there were the little things. More often than not I was hungry. And so my portions had gotten bigger. I hadn't noticed before, but when I thought about it everyone in the Circle had always had larger appetites than the others. I also found myself having more energy. To the point of regularly feeling restless. And sitting still doing nothing for too long was something I now found nearly impossible.
Then there were the more practical changes, such as an enhanced sense of smell and hearing. I had also noticed my eyesight improve drastically, allowing me to see details I never before had noticed. And darkness was no longer that great of an enemy. I couldn't see perfect in the dark but I no longer felt I'd need my oil lamp, except for in the darkest of places.
Every physical aspect as well seemed to have been noticeably improved. Increased muscle mass, strength, dexterity, speed, endurance, reflexes, and more. Eorlund had nearly ¨bitten my ear off¨ with curses as I had asked him to reforge the chest- and back-plate of my Wolf armor as they no longer fit. Apparently my increased chest girth wasn't something that usually wouldn't be so apparent after a ¨turning,¨ and so Eorlund hadn't taken it in consideration while first forging my wolf armor.
But then there were the bigger things, or ¨The¨ thing. The effect of Secunda, the smaller one of the two moons, being full. Which would awaken the ¨wolf¨ who now resided inside of me, and transform my body into that of a beast. When that happens, my conscious real self would ¨fall asleep.¨ And I would have neither control nor awareness of my actions until I woke, back as a ¨human.¨
My natural healing factor had also improved drastically. Scratches and bruises seemed to heal in minutes, and grander injuries that usually would take months to heal, healed in days or weeks. And one night of sleep was usual enough to restore me after a battle.
Skjor an Aela called it a ¨blessing.¨ And what a blessing it was.
"How's the nightmares?" Vilkas asked as he entered my room and shut the door behind him.
I gave him a look as I awakened from my thoughts. He walked in and made himself comfortable in the chair at my desk.
"I... dream about my brother a lot. And… flashes?... Of people dying." I said as I leaned my axe against the wall beside me.
"That's the ¨wolf.¨ I figured Skor and Aela wouldn't tell you about the downsides. They're much to ¨in love¨ with their wolves to ever consider them as downsides… That's why I came here." Vilkas said.
"Downsides?… Like the nightmares?" I placed my elbows on my knees as I leaned forward.
"The most important thing you need to know is that the ¨wolf¨ is always inside you now." Vilkas started, with a serious face. "Clawing for control… Most of the time he's asleep but every now and then he will awaken, if you're weakened, angered or, yes, asleep. And when he does, you'll feel, or sense, his feelings and thoughts. And when you're asleep you'll even see parts of his memories… That's the people dying… Every time you ¨turn¨ and the ¨wolf¨ kills, it will only add to those nightmares. The easiest way to get around that is ¨acceptance¨ which, in itself, isn't the easiest of things…" Vilkas made a face as he slouched his shoulders and briefly looked down. "Just make sure you're not somewhere you don't want to be when Secunda turns full. We use the Underforge for that. It has an opening to the Whiterun fields. As well as chains, if you feel like using them."
"So if… when I turn… I won't be able to control it?" I asked.
"I'm afraid not… When you ¨turn¨ the ¨wolf¨ isn't just awake. He's taking over. And when he does, you'll be the one to ¨fall asleep¨. There's nothing you can do about that." Vilkas said.
"The full moon?… But there hadn't been a full moon…" I mumbled, furrowing my dark brows. "When Skjor and Aela turned me, Aela had taken on her ¨beast form¨… Without Secunda being full" I said, raising my eyebrows.
"Aye… Some learn to trigger it at will. Usually using a strong emotional memory," Vilkas answered as he scratched his neck.
"But you said; ¨when turned one wouldn't be in control.¨" I gave Vilkas a look as I quoted him. "Wouldn't Aela had been..."
"That's most likely because of Skjor." Vilkas answered reassuringly. "Aela and Skjor's ¨wolfs¨ are quite… ¨attached' to one another. Skjor being present most likely calmed her ¨wolf.¨ Had he not been there, I figure things would have played out differently."
So there was some form o control at least. Would Farkas have gone after me back then? had I not been locked behind bars? Or would his wolf, too, have remained calm at me?
"So she ¨triggered¨ it? Using a strong memory?" I asked.
Vilkas sighted slightly before he answered. "Aela's mother was a Companion. So like me and Farkas, Aela was born into the Companions… A long time ago Aela's mother died on a mission when Aela was still a young woman. I think Aela has blamed her own ¨weakness¨ for her mother's death ever since…" Vilkas paused for a moment. "I was too young to remember it, still biting knees, but that's most likely the memory she uses." Vilkas leaned forward in thought. "As for Skjor… He served in the Great War. After that he was a sellsword for many years, earning quite a reputation before the Companions found him. He doesn't talk about it, but I'm sure he has his fair share of bad memories as well."
"So I too could learn that power? Trigger it using a memory… like my brother's?"
"Doubt that'll work…" Vilkas said, slightly squeezing his lower lip between his thumb and index finger. "Not much anger in the death of your brother…"
"Anger?" I asked.
"Yes… The ¨wolf¨ feeds and awakens by it. He also seeks control by feeding yours… I'm sure you've noticed how things that used to simply annoy you, now more likely angers you. You're going to need and learn to control that." Vilkas said as he leaned back in the chair and gave me a look.
"I can behave myself, even when angered, Vilkas." I said as I, too, leaned back in my chair.
"Not talking about your behavior. I'm talking about your eyes," Vilkas said and pointed at my eyes.
"My eyes?"
"When the ¨wolf¨ awakens he can be seen in your eyes. Looking out through them. They'll glow yellow, like a wolf's. So you need to be able to calm yourself to avoid that, lest you want people to notice… It's a dead giveaway and people tend to react… badly to it."
"I see?" I said, with a confused look on my face.
"But it can be used to your advantage," Vilkas said with a slight smile. "Few things scare an already frightened man like a Companion wielding glowing eyes," Vilkas said as he rose from his chair.
As he stood he held out his hands to his sides and fixed his gaze down on me as I sat in my chair. His eyes warmed and turned yellow, glowing with a distant flame, like the eyes of a wolf in the night. His entire presence had instantly turned maleficent and as I felt a shiver run down my spine I knew what he had meant. Those were truly the eyes of a Dremora.
His eye soothed back to their silver-blue self and Vilkas sat back down in his chair, wearing a smirk on his face.
"I see what you mean…" I said giving him an approving nod with a slightly impressed smile on my face.
"A bandit once called me ¨Spawn of Coldharbour...¨ right before I killed him. Must be my favorite nickname that one," Vilkas said, smiling as he again leaned back in his chair.
"So what memory does Farkas use?" I asked curiously as I figured Vilkas must be aware of his brother's life happenings.
"Farkas?" Vilkas asked.
"At Dustman's Cairn… bout a year ago… I saw him turn in front of me."
"Aah…" Vilkas started, scratching the stubble on his chin. "Farkas is different… I don't mean to trash-talk my brother but, his more… ¨primitive¨ nature has always kept him close to his ¨wolf.¨ And they usually get along well… He's strong like that… But don't worry, if you had that ability you'd know already." Vilkas gave me a look. "And before you ask… No, I can't do it… don't want to either. I'm satisfied with the regular ¨perks.¨" Vilkas said, slightly shaking his head.
Before I could ask why Vilkas rose from his chair.
"There's more to the change you ought to know," Vilkas said with a hard look. "It also changes your soul… But you should talk to Kodak about that. He's more the ¨spiritual¨ guide than I can be. In fact, he has asked to see you." Vilkas finished as he started walking towards the door, but stopped as he grabbed the handle. "And one more thing… Take my advice… don't seek to gain that power… It's rarely worth the price," Vilkas said as he opened the door and left.
"Kodlak eeh…" I murmured to myself as I reached for my great axe to again balance it in my hands. "Guess I'll see Kodlak then…"
"You wanted to see me?" I asked as I knocked on Kodlak's already open door and entered his private chamber.
Kodlaks chamber consisted of two separate rooms, the only personal chamber to do so. The right wall held a door leading to his bedroom which I had never entered, never had a reason to. The main room held displays of varying sizes against most of the walls; holding artifacts and memorabilia from his younger days, weapons, beast skulls and such. A large decorated desk sat in the far left corner, next to a full bookshelf, filled with writing materials, books and journals. There were no windows in the basement and so candles burned on engraved stands placed on most surfaces, as well as I large chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room.
"Yes, youngling," Kodlak answered from his corner table as he put down a thick book he had been reading. "Have a seat." He said with a gentle gesture toward the second chair at his table.
My steps turning silent as they met the large red carpet with golden linings on his floor. The center of the carpet had a large axe embroidered in it by black and gray cotton threads. An axe I had learned was the true form of Wuuthrad. The axe-head was squared; two large blades on both ends held together by a piece formed into a gaping, screaming elf-head, from the neck of the elf-head a straight metal handle shot down at least a meter or so. I recognized the elf-head as the piece I and Farkas had collected from Dustman's Cairn, which felt like ages ago. A slight chill ran down my neck as I recalled the feeling of sorrowful hatred that had overwhelmed me when I had touched the accursed ebony piece; forged from Ysgramors very hatred itself.
"Thank you for coming," Kodlak said as I made myself comfortable in the chair. "I wanted to see you… for I fear you have accepted a contract unknowingly of its true price."
What did he mean by that? "Skjor said it was a blessing from Hircine."
"Aye, that sounds like him," Kodlak said with a disagreeing face. "As In all matters of faith, however, the reality is more complicated than one believer would tell you."
"...So what's the truth then?" I asked for his cryptic statement. Kodlak was wise. But I always found it a bit annoying how he always spoke in riddles.
"The companions are nearly five thousand years old. This matter of beast blood has only troubled us for a few hundred," Kodlak started. He looked into the air in thought as he recalled the scriptures he held memorized in his head. "One of my predecessors was a good, but short-sighted man. He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Coven… If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, we would be granted great power."
There was that name again, Hircine. I knew he was one of the Deadric Princes, a God. But I knew little more than that. "Who's Hircine," I asked, leaning forward with my elbows on the table.
Kodlak made a disconcerting face as he realized the naivety I held for the contract I had so willingly signed. "Hircine, ¨Spirit of the Hunt,¨ ¨Huntsman of Princes,¨ and ¨Father of Manbeasts¨ are some of the many names he wears. He is the Deadric Prince who placed Lycanthropy on our world… the very curse that now grips your soul."
A moment of thought passed my mind. I had never really been one for the Gods, Aedra nor Deadra alike. Yet now I had taken part in a play created by one of those very Gods, a Deadra nonetheless; who were considered more controversial or evil-minded than the Aedra. The more I thought of it, the more Kodlak's words gave anxiety room to grow within me. Had this ¨signing of contract¨ truly been a smart one? But I had been granted strength? Right... Strength unreachable by others. A strength I before hadn't even imagined possible.
"And they become werewolves?" I asked as my attention returned to his eyes; referring to the Companions of old.
"They did not believe the change would be permanent." Kodlak continued as he noted my returned attention. "The witches offered payment, like anyone else. But they had been deceived."
"But aren't we more powerful now?" I asked, rationalizing my choice.
"The witches didn't lie, of course. But it's more than our bodies." Kodlak said as a grave, seriousness fell over his eyes.
Vilkas had mentioned it had a change on my soul. Is that what Kodlak was referring to?
"The disease, you see, affects not just our bodies." Kodlak continued. "It seeps into the spirit. Upon death, werewolves are claimed by Hircine for his Hunting Grounds. For some, this is paradise. They want nothing more than to chase pray with their master for eternity…" Kodlak turned his eyes to the ceiling before he returned them on me. "And that is their choice. But I am still a true Nord. And I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home."
So that's the price I paid? I lowered my head as the meaning of Kodlak's words became reality in my mind. A lifetime of supreme power and strength, in exchange for an eternity spent as nothing more than Hircine's ¨lapdog¨. And my seat in Sovngarde, where heroes of old and new alike would battle one another, only to rise from their daily deaths to later feast as friends in the Hall of Valor until the end of times. Had ripped from my grasp? Had I exchanged my afterlife in Aetherius to eternally hunt as a beast on the fields of Oblivion?
I figured Skor and Aela wouldn't tell you about the downsides.
Vilkas' sentence repeated itself in my mind. That's what he meant. Had Skjor told me I gave up my afterlife, had I chosen differently? Had I even believed in an afterlife before all of this? If it did exist, then where did my brother reside? Was he in Sovngarde, or someplace else?
"I need to think on this." I said as I slowly rose from my chair. Kodlak gave me an approving nod as he, too, rose from his chair. He walked over to his bookshelf and piled a number of books in his left hand. I saw the book cover on top read ¨Physicalities of Werevolves¨ as he handed me the pile.
"These might hold some answers for you. And my door is always open, should you wish to talk." Kodlak said and politely gestured toward the door.