Here we are!
Again it turned out a it longer than usual, but there is simply so much going on in this chapter that I couldn't split it in two.

Hope you enjoy it.
And as before, see you in two weeks.

Krev ¨the Skinner¨

"Look at this. Cowards must have locked the place down after Skjor charged them. You can taste the fear." Whatever worry Aela harbored earlier had clearly vanished the moment Skjor's survival had been confirmed. The moment we entered the fort, a certain ¨fire¨ in her eyes had been rekindled.

The room wasn't all that big. A few sturdy oak tables stood here and there and lit torches decorated the old walls, along with a chandelier hanging from the stone ceiling. It was an entrance, nothing more. One thing stood out though: The iron-barred door leading to a basement. The lever to open the bars was on our side of the door. Clearly, the bars weren't designed to keep intruders out; they were designed to keep whatever they had inside, inside.

"Skjor's somewhere ahead. We need to find him." Aela already had her hand on the lever as she spoke, pulling it down with a metallic clank as the mechanism began to work its magic; sounds of chains rustled within the walls as the bars began to lift with a harsh rusty shrill as metal ground against stone.

"Take the lead. I'll cover you with my bow. Any sign of Silver Hands, you move left and I'll take the right." Aela was definitely back to her normal controlling self, confidently delivering commands as if it was her second nature, surely something she had adopted from Skjor. Still, I gave her a nod as her strategy was sound. It was the reason Companions had shield-siblings; we had each other's backs.

The stairs were steep and narrow, there was barely room enough for me to hold my axe by my side. Aela easily hid behind my frame as we quietly moved down the stairs. Well, as quietly as heavy armored Companions possibly could since my heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. I tried to move quieter, but the stairs were steep.

The hallway sharply turned to our left when we reached the bottom of the stairs. I could hear voices around the corner, maybe three of them. It was a wonder they hadn't heard us already, but it seemed they were too busy arguing amongst themselves to keep an ear out for intruders.

"Let's take them quick," Aela whispered behind me.

Follow her strategy, I reminded myself. I'll take the one on the left she'll take the one on the right. I gave her a quick nod before I charged the corner.

They were clearly unprepared and taken by surprise as they all, in sync, turned toward us as we came charging. There were three of them. Focus on the one on the left, ignore the others. The one I charged had nothing but a sword as I moved for him. He drew it from his hilt as I closed in. Block his first strike, bash to stun, axe to his stomach. An arrow whistled past my right side as Aela worked her bow behind me.

I leveled my axe as his sword arm moved to strike. His sword bounced off my handle as I blocked. Continuing forward, I bashed the handle into his face, forcing him to stagger back, followed by flawless execution of my strategy. I quickly drew my arms back to swing my axe forward, feeling it force its way into his stomach. With a pained grunt, the man bent halfway over my axe. Kicking my heel toward him, I pulled out my axe with a disgusting sound, like a fat man smacking his even fatter mouth. My opponent had yet to hit the floor as I turned toward the others. They both already lie dead on the floor, arrows embedded through their necks. Aela was as fast as she was accurate.

This was a larger room than the one we had been in before. Still, looking around I could see little of value as Aela turned over one of the corpses with her foot. There were mostly piles of chopped wood along the walls, some torches, and-except for two doors-not much else.

"These have been dealt with. Let's move."

I agreed with a look before I moved for one of the doors, the one that was open, while Aela went for the second door. A quick peek around the corner revealed an empty staircase going further down. How deep did this place go? Warm air rose from the stairs, together with the smell of cooking. A kitchen perhaps.

"It's locked," Aela said in a low voice as she had felt the other door. She quickly moved to the opposing side of my doorway. Again, she gave me a nod to move first. So I did. I was better armored than her, and she had a bow. It only made sense I'd move first.

The left turn at the bottom of the stairs lead into yet another room. My nose had been right, a kitchen. It was empty of people, yet the fireplace was still burning. A pot of stew hung boiling above the fire and plates and cutlery sat in rows on the tables, together with vegetables and spices, diced and ready for cooking. Tilma herself would have been proud of how organized the kitchen looked. But with pots of food still cooking, it had clearly been abandoned in a hurry. And recently. Most likely close to the same time the man outside had yelled ¨werewolf,¨ drawing the horde of Silver Hands inside the building.

But where had they all gone? We hadn't entered that much later, yet so far we have only seen three of them. Where's the rest?

With little time to pause the two of us moved for the only door there was. Not stairs this time. A hallway appeared before us, long and dark, except for a few lit candles decorating the shelves that dotted the left wall. Along the right side, there appeared to be a row of doors. As we slowly moved forward it became apparent that the barred doors on our left were holding cells.

"What?" Aela asked as I stopped in front of her.

"There's something on the floor." Something lay on the floor in the middle of the hallway not far ahead. Even with my eyes, it was hard to make out what the dark pile was. But I could smell blood.

Moving forward, I realized it was a body... no, a corpse. I couldn't help but notice the dagger embedded in his skull as I stepped over the body. It had entered through the bottom of his chin. Not somewhere you'd aim if it had been from a fight. Had he been taken by surprise? Not having the time to stop, I decided not to give it any extra thought and continued forward.

"Wait…" Aela had stopped on the other side of the body, eyeing the cell next to her, as I turned. She seemed frozen in place by the way she was standing. I had gotten accustomed to seeing her work her nose by now, and she smelled something. "Skjor's been here."

I didn't know how to react. Relief that we were on the right track? Or even more worry, that he had been here, in a cell? But the corpse outside the cell said it all. Skjor had been here. And he had managed to escape. Recently. Had we only been faster...

Aela slowly walked around the body, working her head like a dog searching for a rabbit hole. She kneeled down next to the body and lifted something up. I had mistaken the black piece of fur for a small carpet when I walked over it, But now that she lifted it up in the air I instantly recognized it for what it was. Half the Wolf fursuit. The second half didn't lay far away. I knew there was only one reason it would have unbuttoned.

"We need to move." Aela gave me a serious look, still holding the piece of fursuit in her hands. "He's transformed. That means he'll move faster than us. And with all the Silver Hands… We need to move."

She was right. Had Skjor transformed, there was no telling what the Silver Hand would do in order to stop him. They'd throw everything they had at him. At Dustman's Cairn, Farkas had easily taken on half a dozen Silver Hands. That memory still gave me chills. But the Silver Hands hadn't known Farkas could change at will. They had been unprepared for it, taken by surprise. But now we were inside one of their largest outposts, if not the largest. Still, the men outside had clearly been taken off guard when that man had screamed ¨werewolf.¨ Maybe they weren't prepared for it after all? Nonetheless, the situation was still bad.

Cell after cell passed as we moved down the corridor, all of them empty. When we reached the end we were met by a twin door. It stood open, broken and unhinged, gaping with invitation for what was within. Something had broken straight through it, and I knew that something was, without a doubt, Skjor.

A bad feeling overwhelmed me as we entered the room. The smell of blood, which I thought had come from the body in the hallway behind us, had only grown stronger. And it seemed this room was to blame. It reeked of the metallic scent from dried blood that covered the floor. The tables were filled with rows of knives in all different shapes and sizes. Ragged tools and contraptions hung from the walls: branding irons, thorned whips, blunt iron clubs, spiked chairs, cages. I lacked the imagination needed to figure out how most of the blood-covered contraptions here even worked. But it was clear to me that nothing here was intended to do good. The room was filled with more tools than any torture chamber could ever call for.

What kind of sadist could possibly need this much?

"I knew the Silver Hand had a darker side to them. But I never imagined this," Aela said as she walked over to the tables to investigate. She took one of the curved knives and checked its sharpness with her thumb. "Odd."

"What is?"

"They're not made of silver."

"Why is that odd?"

"You haven't noticed the Silver Hand use silver weapons?"

"I have. But I don't know why that is."

Aela gave me a look as if she had believed me to know something I didn't. "Silver negates our healing. That means whoever uses this room intended for their victims to heal quickly, so they can go back to being tortured again. It's not the dumbest of ideas."

What? How had they forgotten to tell me something that important? But it wasn't the first time Skjor and Aela had withheld information on the downsides of lycanthropy. I could understand them not telling me of things like a shorter temper and increased hunger. But the nightmares? The new ¨personality¨ within me that sometimes decided to claw for control? And now she's telling me silver negates my healing. I thought a weakness like that would've been one of the first things they'd mention? Honestly, their disregard to teach me about the downsides had started to piss me off. Guess Vilkas was right. ¨They're much to ¨in love¨ with their wolves to ever consider them as downsides.¨

"And this you tell me now?"

"What?"

"That silver negates our healing?"

"Considering the amount of time you spend with Vilkas, I thought you knew already. Or that you'd figure it out after that arrow?"

The arrow? I hadn't paid any attention to it since it was barely an injury. But now that I did, I could still feel the wound sting in my shoulder. It had only broken skin and should have healed in a minute. Less. Yet it hadn't. "You're the one who turned me! Don't you think it falls on you and Skjor to tell me these things? Like the nightmares! The anger!"

"We all have nightmares, there's nothing new in that. And most of those things I expected you to find out by yourself."

"And what of the other things? You could at least have the decency to tell me ¨Oh yeah, and silver kills you.¨ Or did you figure I'd find that out myself as well by, I don't know, getting stabbed!"

"Fine! I forgot!" It seemed my temper had gotten to Aela as well, judging by how her cheeks took on an angry blush. "That what you want to hear? Now enough with this! I don't have time for your whining, we need to find Skjor." With that said, she tossed the knife back on the table and turned for the next door.

"Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?"

"By Ysgramor, I don't know," she said in an annoyed voice as she stopped halfway to the door and turned back toward me. "Small things piss you off, you eat for two, keep a leash on your wolf or he might turn on you, and yeah, you can't go to Sovngarde."

I felt bitter as I shifted my weight on my heels, like the lid on a pot on the verge of boiling over. Maybe I had overreacted. Fighting amongst ourselves right now wasn't the smartest of actions. Besides, it wasn't as if I had ever asked. Like Aela said, most of the things I had come to learn as they appeared. "Yeah, Kodlak and Vilkas did tell me those things."

"Well, of course, they did," Aela said with a snarky tone. "And I suppose they, too, forgot to mention silver."

They had. Maybe I was being too hard on her. I guess this was one of those times when I didn't know if my anger was my own, or if my wolf had conjured it against me.

Aela sighed as she calmed herself. "It doesn't matter, the strengths outweigh the weaknesses. Now let'smove."

"Yes." I'd had enough of this room. Maybe it was the stench of blood that had stirred the wolf within me, or maybe my sudden outburst of anger was my own and in and of itself justified. Right now I didn't know. But we had more important things to worry about. Just focus on finding Skjor. "Lead on."

Aela had already turned and was heading through the door. I had to take up a brisk walk to catch up with her before she got too far ahead. It felt good to leave this room. I almost bumped into Aela as she had stopped right inside the next room, her gaze frozen straight ahead. That feeling of relief I had felt... It vanished the moment I looked over her shoulder.

Werewolves…

Cage after cage lined the walls. Deceased beasts locked within. Chains with hooks hung from the ceiling, suspending skinned carcasses of humanoid monsters in the air. Thick-furred pelts were strapped in stretching frames, left to dry. There were bloody rags everywhere and flies buzzed around the insane number of buckets on the floor, each of them filled to the brim with intestines and organs. One wall was covered in shelves, holding beast head after beast head. As if they were on display. Their eyes dull and white. No human could bring themselves to treat any creature like this. Werewolf or not.

My stomach turned at the sight. The stench of blood and flesh had only grown stronger and I found myself covering my mouth with the back of my hand. Were they sent here for slaughter? Or were they sent here after the previous room had tortured them to death? I'd rather go back to the torture chamber than spend another second in here. It was revolting.

"Those monsters…" Aela whispered to herself. She didn't need to specify who she believed the monsters to be. "Hircine's vengeance upon them. Ysgramor's rage, Shor's wrath..."

Aela's quiet cursing continued as she slowly walked into the room. The sights and smells made me dizzy with repulsion. But I knew I had to follow her, even if I had to force myself. The headless, skinned creatures in the cells seemed to have been left to rot where they were. Flies everywhere. How long had they been there? The ones hanging in chains were fresher. Recently skinned. They still had their heads. How long had they been tortured before they were tossed in here? I had never seen anything like this before. Not even in my nightmares.

I tried not to touch anything as we walked, easier said than done, as we had to duck under one of the hanging corpses to get through. My senses felt overwhelmed, sight, smell, even my ears unconditionally focused in on the flies, as their buzzing seemed to grow stronger. But inside the buzzing of the flies, there was something else. A weak whimper?

"There's a live one." Aela stopped in front of me and turned toward a rug covered cage. She had heard it too. Without hesitation, she pulled the rug off the cage.

The creature within screamed with fear as the rug left his cage. I jerked back in fright and surprise at the high pitched scream. It sounded almost like a pup getting injured, but more… human. The cage rattled as it pushed itself into the corner furthest away from the cage door. It was as if removing the rug had caused it immense pain and terror. Such a large beast, yet it seemed so small as it panicked, curled up into a ball in the corner. Violently attempting to hide. I had never seen eyes filled with such fear. No matter how much the beast curled up, it's clawed feet kept scraping against the cage floor, desperately attempting to push itself even further into the corner. Away from us.

How could one of Hircine's proudest creatures have been reduced to… to this? Who could possibly have done such a thing? The whimpering tore at my heart. And Aela clearly wasn't having it either, her expression something between pity and rage.

"It's... It's not a full moon. Is it…" I had to force the words.

"It's not Skjor," Aela said with ironclad certainty.

"Then how… how is he transformed?"

"He's gone feral."

"Feral?"

"Some can't separate the animal from themselves. So they turn. Some, indefinitely."

Indefinitely? "Can't… can't we help him?"

"If his wolf has been reduced to this I don't imagine much of the human is left." Aela shook her head. First at me and then at the room. "That's what they do, isn't it. The torture chamber breaks the human. And this room, the wolf."

To think not long ago I'd had the thought the Silver Hand to be honorable. Like us. Fighting in the name of Ysgramor. No. What I saw here opened my eyes to what they were. And there was nothing honorable about them.

"Can't we at least let him out?"

"You didn't notice?" Aela gave me a look. "The cage door isn't locked. All he has to do is push it open."

Such cruelty. Breaking someone's will to the point where fear alone keeps them caged.

"We'll kill them all," Aela said as she turned to walk for the next door.

I gave the curled-up creature one last look before I followed her. It was shivering like a leaf, it didn't even dare look at me.

Yes. We'll kill them all…

Like the doors before this one, it was torn open. Leading into a short hallway turning sharp to the right a few meters before us. There was a puddle of fresh blood coming from around the corner. I had already seen enough blood down here to last me a lifetime, but I had the feeling I would only see more. Something in me didn't want to turn the corner. But we didn't have much of a choice, did we? I readied my axe as I reluctantly turned the corner. First me, then Aela.

The torches covered the wide corridor with warm yellow light, but the thick layer of dark red blood splattered on the walls and floor absorbed all the light they could summon, making it darker than it ought to be. The yellow light that didn't darken against red fell on the piles of corpses on the wet floor, reaching all the way to the end of the corridor. Slaughtered humans laying atop one another. Their gaping mouths wore an expression of horror and death. The light shimmered against their dull eyes. They had been butchered. Torn to shreds. Body parts and intestines everywhere. The same way Farkas had ripped the Silver Hand asunder at Dustman's Cairn. Their contours easily hid the fact that the floor was flat.

I didn't think the stench of blood and guts could get any worse, but now it was so thick I could taste it in my throat. It was repulsing. What had we gotten ourselves into? First the torture chamber, a slaughter room, and now a corridor so filled with death it might have been summoned from the depths of Oblivion itself.

"Seems this is where they caught up to Skjor. Serves them right." Aela didn't seem to care for the carnage as she walked past me, stepping on corpses as she headed down the corridor. She walked so casually I got the feeling this wasn't the first time she had seen something like this, not at all how she had reacted to seeing the werewolves.

I didn't feel comfortable following her, but what choice did I have? The blood-covered floor felt sticky under my boots as I walked. I couldn't help but stare at the first corpse I came upon. His lower half was missing, torn off from his waist. His guts hung out of his torso like a pile of worms wriggling their way out of him. His expression was that of pure horror. Silver Hand or not, this wasn't a good way for any warrior to go.

The bodies were slippery as I began walking over them. Turning beneath my feet. I almost lost my balance a couple of times as I tried to keep up with Aela. And any time I'd slip and reach for support, I'd find my hand against the wet, blood-splattered wall. Every now and then my foot would slip in between the body parts, like stepping in heavy snow, and I'd have to jerk my leg to get it out. The way the bodies moved when I did so made me sick to my stomach. How many corpses were there? A lot more than we had seen run inside, that was for certain.

"You sure Skjor's behind this?"

"Oh, that's my Skjor for you. As fierce and brutal as ever."

My Skjor? Guess that confirmed the rumors. She had turned her head away from me the moment she had said it. A slip of the tongue? Not that it mattered. But one thing was for certain. Aela was far too casual to not have seen something like this before. And I didn't know how I felt about that.

"Hurry up. He can't be far ahead now." Aela took up her pace as she walked over the corpses with ease. Stepping on torsos rather than limbs.

It wasn't easy to keep up. Not only didn't she seem to mind stepping on them, but she didn't wear a full set of heavy armor either. Even if I followed in her footsteps I weighted way too much not to push bodies aside as I stepped on them. I couldn't imagine myself get used to the feeling, no matter how many I stepped on.

TOddly enough the twin door at the end was shut, not torn open like the ones before, which was odd. Aela had her bow ready as I walked up next to her. The door was heavy and didn't move as I gave it a light push with my hand. I placed my shoulder against the door and looked at Aela. She moved up behind me and prepared her bow, taking aim over my shoulder as I leaned my weight against it.

The oak door moved heavily and creaked as I pushed my weight against it. The door cracked open and a rush of air blew over my face as it entered the corridor, washing away most of the stench of blood around us as it made the torch fires dance behind us.

The door wasn't fully open as I continued to push. But, based on the wall that came into view, I could tell it was a large circular room. More torches were mounted on the walls and thick stone pillars kept up the heavy ceiling. As the door opened further, it revealed a portion of the floor that was elevated at the opposite side of the room. No more than a step or two. It almost looked like a stage. Or a ceremonial platform of sorts.

Someone was crouched down in the center of it, sitting with his knees crossed and back turned against us. He wore a helmet, so the back of his head was covered, and his plate armored back glistened with yellow and red in the torchlight. His shoulders were moving. He seemed to be working on something. Something large and dark on the floor in front of him. Something furred.

"Skjor!" Aela shouted as the door finally opened. She quickly pushed past me and stormed into the room, stopping a few steps in front of me as the man had reacted to our presence without moving. Only tilting his right ear towards us.

I hurried to Aelas side but stopped as he began to speak.

"So this one belongs to you?" The voice was soft. Teasing. Almost seductive. Not at all what I had expected.

A woman?

In a fluid motion, she stood without using her hands, gracefully turning her body towards us as her crossed legs turned parallel, one in front of the other.

It was a woman. The helmet covered her face, but the front of her chest plate clearly wasn't shaped for a man. It was far too feminine, curved and formed after her slender waist and firm breasts. Sensually so. It wasn't something one would easily come by in a store... or even at a smith. It was so skillfully crafted that, if I didn't know better, I'd say Dibella herself had given it form.

She held her arms out to her side, a curved knife pointing down in one hand and a large bloody rag in the other. Her pose was almost divine as she stood before us, elevated by the floor and surrounded by torchlight. Both her hands were covered in blood, dripping down her forearms and elbows. No… it wasn't a rag she was holding. It was a piece of furred skin. And the large thing behind her? A werewolf. The side of his torso revealed red flesh.

Had she been skinning him?

"I soo wanted to have more time with him, but here you are. Seems my playtime is over," she said with a playful tease

"How… could you..." Aela choked, something ferocious shaking in her voice.

"How could I?" She almost giggled as she crossed her arms over her chest, one hand up as she placed the blade of her knife against her lips, or where her lips would be had her face not been covered. "How could I not? Poor thing could barely stand, jumping around on three legs and all. Actually, I'm surprised he managed to kill as many as he did." There was something... disturbing in her voice. As if she was enjoying herself. Toying with us. "Well… I guess they were weak." With an elegant gesture of her hand, she tossed the piece of skin on the floor. As if she was tossing away the thought of her men.

Didn't she care about them? The carnage behind us? Had it no effect on her at all?

"It's a shame… They were so devoted to finding you guys for me. Well, now I guess I'll have to find a new gang. Again." she sighed "I'm sure there are others than the Silver Hand willing to hunt werewolves for me… Perhaps the Vigilants of Stendarr? No… They're far too religious for my taste…" I didn't know if she was talking to herself or to us. But her head moved as if in thought, her gaze going from one side of the ceiling to the other as she slowly tilted her head left and right, and she gestured as she spoke. "Well… It was fun while it lasted."

"You didn't… Skjor wouldn't fall to someone like you," Aela stated. Her voice was serious. Deep.

Was it really Skjor? Everything felt so confusing right now. The last couple of rooms, the caged werewolf, the hallway. One thing after the other had bombarded me since we set foot in this sickening fort. Even before that. Was it really Skjor, laying behind her? Could he really be d—

"So that's his name!?" Her voice lit up as she turned her attention back to Aela. "And you knew him? I like to give them their own names. Not that it matters really. In the end, they always end up as ¨pup.¨ But this is even better!" Her gesturing had turned energic. Like a child, excitingly hooking their first fish. I couldn't tell her expression for the helmet covering her face, but I couldn't imagine she was anything but smiling. "Was he stubborn?! He was, wasn't he? He just wouldn't give up! No matter how much I toyed with him. Such a shame I had to put him down so quickly. The stubborn ones are the most fun to break. If only we had had more time together."

"I'll… kill you…" Aela was tense. Almost shaking. Her red hair covered the side of her face so I couldn't see her expression. I wasn't sure I wanted to.

"You're just like dogs! No matter how fierce and scary you seem to be, if you're treated right you'll become soft like puppies. Obedient. Some use whips, but I find knives work better. As long as you don't die, your skin will grow back. You heal soo quickly. Not at all like the dogs we had when I was a kid. I've always been amazed by that."

"You're sick…"

"The waist down. That's my rule. Even humans survive that for a while. And when you cry. Ooh… Have you ever heard a werewolf cry? It's so… human." She caressed her fingers down her neck, over the breasts of her chest plate and down her waist, leaving lines of red after her fingers. It made me sick. "And when your eyes turn soft. And that flame they carry goes numb. You just know you've surrendered. Broken. It's so beautiful… Aah. I wish I had gotten to see that with your ¨Skjor.¨ But he was stubborn." She gently kicked her heel back at the creature behind her as she said his name.

"I'll kill you!" Aela was holding her bow so tightly her knuckles whitened, as she in rage fumbled to put the arrow in place. Had she lost it?

"Yes! Those are the eyes! So fierce! So filled with anger! " She leaned forward with her arms held out to her sides as she shouted in glee. As if she was about to embrace us. "Wouldn't you transform for me?! I'll play with you longer! I promise."

As I looked at Aela, her eyes glowed yellow with fury, more so than I ever had seen Vilka's. Her expression was rage, as if her very soul was on fire. She had lost it. There was no doubt. I readied my axe as I knew she was going to act. By Ysmir, she'd already begun as she lifted her bow and let an arrow loose with a scream.

The woman laughed as she ducked under it. Again, Aela screamed as she let another arrow loose, and again the woman evaded. Laughing, like a girl having the time of her life. Again Aela let an arrow loose. And again she evaded.

Aela had lost it. She let loose one arrows after the other as fast as she could, making no attempt to aim as she did so. And the woman continued to laugh as she evaded them as easy as a child evaded snowballs, moving toward the pillars for cover.

I don't know why I hadn't reacted earlier. It felt as if something within me was holding me back. But Aela had lost it. And she needed me.

Axe in hand, I charged at the woman as she disappeared behind the pillar. I moved for the left side of the pillar as I knew Aela would take the right. But considering the state she was in, would she even be capable of basic fighting strategy? I kept moving. There was no way of knowing.

Axe on my left, I rounded the corner, swinging it horizontally towards the woman as she had taken cover with her back against the pillar. It spat gravel as my axe smashed into its side, she had ducked under and took a jump away from me as I pulled my axe from the pillar. I'd force her toward the wall. I pushed forward, swinging my axe at her at every opening I got. Still, she evaded with ease. All while laughing.

How could she move so quickly in heavy armor? She was as fast as Vilkas, perhaps even faster. Was she really human? I could use Aela right about now!

She evaded my swing with a deep crouch. In the same motion, I lifted my axe behind and over my head and swung it down. She jumped back toward the wall as my axe smashed the stone floor by her feet. Gracefully she continued moving back into an opening in the wall. How had I missed that? By Ysmir, how did I not notice an entire opening?!

"Now!" She shouted.

A trap?!

A metallic clank reached my ears and I hastily retreated back as iron bars fell down between us, sealing the opening in an instance.

"See! Even cowards like you can be of use. I might just forgive you for trying to run."

The opening she had entered turned to the right behind her, and she was clearly speaking to someone around that corner. I recognized him the moment he poked his head out to take a look. It was the young man. The one who had screamed ¨werewolf.¨

"And you… you're no fun at all." She almost sounded disappointed as she turned her attention back to me. "You're handsome. Large. I'll give you that. But you don't have the eyes of a wolf. Where's that flame? The anger? The rage? I did kill your friend, you know."

It made me uncomfortable that her helmet covered her face. I couldn't even see her eyes. It made her seem emotionless. But at the same time, the way she talked and moved gave of such emotion. And not normal ones. What was wrong with this woman? Most people would fear to stand against two Companions, even more so knowing we're both werewolves. Yet she acted out of enjoyment. As if it was all some sadistic game she found pleasure in… She wasn't sane…

I almost felt our roles were reversed. As if, something in me feared her…

Get it together! I'm a Companion! A respected member of the Circle! By Ysmir, I'm a werewolf! I shouldn't fear anyone! Much less a human!

"Let's go Krev," the man around the corner pleaded.

Krev?

"Oh, we're leaving," Krev answered as she turned toward him. "Seems we have plenty of work to do. Finding more men for starters… You don't happen to know of any other Silver Hand camps, do you? Don't think we can stay here anymore." She turned her back toward me as she began to walk away.

That's it? Was she leaving? Had she really killed Skjor? Had she really…

I felt my heartbeat grow stronger. My ears warmed and I was clenching my jaw. My right hand squeezed the handle of my axe and by instinct, I grabbed one of the bars in front of me with my left, feeling the rough iron dig into my hand as I squeezed.

"Krev!" I shouted after her. I wasn't afraid anymore… I was angry.

She stopped and gently turned on her feet, like a dancer preparing to bow. Her emotionless masked face pointing straight at me.

"We'll find you! Wherever you go, we'll hunt you down! And we will find you!"

"Now there they are!" Again, she lit up with happiness. Her masked face might not give off emotion, but every tone in her voice told me she was smiling. It infuriated me. "Those are the eyes! So fierce! Scary even! But I'm afraid we can't play any longer. Perhaps we'll meet again… No-wait-what's-thaaat?" She pushed her head slightly forward as she had asked, and the tone of her question was that of a child seeing a ladybug for the first time. "Oh we'll most definitely meet again… Yess wee will… Perhaps sooner than you think." With a twirl, she turned back to her original position. She gestured nonchalantly over her shoulder and began to walk away. "Look forward to it. I know I will."

"KREV!" I kicked and pulled at the bars as she disappeared around the corner. Sparks flew as I smashed my axe into the iron bars time and time again. But no matter what, they wouldn't budge. I felt my blood boil as I shouted after her. But she was already gone.

Aela! Where was she?

I turned toward the chamber. And there she was, kneeling by the beast on the stage. She was holding its large head in her hands, resting it on her lap as her face was lowered above it. Her red hair hanging over her face.

It couldn't be?

There was something heavy growing in my stomach as I walked towards them. And my throat had begun to feel thick, swollen, as I stepped onto the stage.

Was it really Skjor?

He was large, at least three times the size of a man. He was humanoid, yet not. Something between a wolf and a man. Except for the side of his waist, which was skinned down to his thigh, dark ragged fur covered his body. There were arrows in his shoulders and deep cuts all over his torso. He must have fought bravely.

Did she really recognize him? Even in this form?

The head in Aela's hands was purely that of a large wolf. Broad and powerful. But there was no yellow glow in his eyes. They were dull... white… hollow. There was a large pale scar over his left eye. And the eye itself had no iris and pupil as if it had been blinded long ago.

A one-eyed beast… My stomach took a turn for the worst. I could hardly breathe. It couldn't be? But it was. Wasn't it.

Aela slowly lifted her head toward me. Her yellow burning eyes were filled with tears, leaving dark blue traces in her facepaint as they ran down her face. Her lips were slightly parted.

"He shouldn't have gone alone…" Her words hit me hard. For whose fault was it that he had gone alone? Who was it that had been late? There should have been three of us. "He shouldn't have gone alone… That bastard."

"Aela. I—"

"You should return to Jorrvaskr. Tell them what happened here. They'll want to know."

"We'll find her, Aela. We know her name. We'll find her, and we'll avenge him."

"That we will!" The fire in her eyes intensified. "Now get out of here! I'll care for Skjor. And I'll search the bodies for any information."

"I'll help y—"

"Just go…" She returned her attention to Skjor, caressing his head in her lap. "I'll take care of it. Just go."

Yeah... I think my fic officially entered its ¨Dark¨ stage.