Author's Note:
A big thank you to my reviewers, you're wonderful! A huge thanks especially to Manu, whose reviews brighten my day and made me want to write for days on end.
Also, this is…kind of an obscenely long chapter. So grab yourself a cup of warm something of your choice, a blanket, and hop on it – it's going to be a long ride. I'd like to think the character interractions and their build-up is worth the length, though. Lots of Vilkas in this chapter! ;)
Some explanations at the end : )
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She trotted down the mead hall's steps, leaving a trail of confused Companions in her wake. What had her in such a hurry at that ungodly hour of the morning?
She made her way to Erik haphazardly dressed, her hair undone and her eyes wild, shining with some sort of inspiration. Her feet were bare, but she didn't even notice as she ran towards the Bannered Mare to meet with him.
She had had a dream. Not one of –those- dreams, those with Vilkas that left her confused and restless, but a true dream, a prophetic one, the kind you only get in a lifetime. And in that dream, Kynareth had spoken to her. And when the gods speak, you do as they say.
She was on top of a mountain, the air crisp and cold, its touch feathery and soft on her skin. The wind smelled of bright and new things, and it sang with wind chimes and new promises. She overlooked the whole of Skyrim from where she sat, perched at the top of the world and surrounded by snow. The wind pushed and prodded from all directions, as if testing her balance on the mountain top. She did not fall.
The sounds were pierced by a hunting horn, and then a voice spoke:
"Child, you have been chosen, for divine purpose and to pursue a divine destiny, as Talos did before you. The dawn of a new dragon of the north shines upon us, and you have big shoes to fill, Amina. But before you gain your wings you must first prove your worth, for the wind does not carry heavy things, be they souls or things. And to be a true daughter of the wind, you must prove yourself to me, and only then will I give you the air you need to truly make your voice heard. Only then."
Amina shivered. "But who are you? And what do you want of me?"
"I am many things, and have been called many things. Once Kyne, now Kynareth, but if you ask, I may even be called Tava by your Redguard father. Such is the fate of the Aedra, to be a kaleidoscope of never ending identities."
"I have…prayed to you many times. I…was unsure anyone listened."
The wind suddenly picked up, threatening to knock her over.
"Of course I listen, child. And I provide comfort and guidance when I can, and to the hopeless. But there is no point in helping those who can help themselves, now is it there?"
"You're right…So what is it that you want me to do? And you said something about…err, divine destiny?"
"All in due time. There cannot be destiny without worthiness, just like there cannot be magic without stars. You have been chosen from long ago, child, from when you were but a spark in your mother's eyes. My will carried with you close to your heart ever since you left your home."
"Close to my heart?...The amulet!" Amina fidgeted under her blouse and pulled up her mother's trinket. It twinkled at her as if it had been waiting for this moment the whole time.
"That is my token child, and it came in your mother's hands quite curiously, while she was hunting, no less. But it had been always destined for your hands and heart alone. The amulet has marked you as worthy of my gifts, but it's yet to be seen if you are so."
"How can I prove that I am worthy, then?"
"Defeat my sacred beasts in good hunt. Keep their teachings close to your heart, and when you shall defeat the last of them, I will know that you are truly a daughter of the wind."
"How will I know where to find them, though?"
The wind chimes seemed to pick up, as if laughing. "You will know, child, you will just. I am excited to see what providence has in store for you. Now go, and wind guide you!"
Amina woke up to the sound of her racing heart and the wind outside. Whiterun was having one of its usual windy days, normal among the flat plains it was in, but in that morning it seemed particularly meaningful to Amina. And so she went to Erik to ask him to come with her on this trial. Mainly for moral support, mostly to have someone to keep her company at night. Skyrim was frightening after dusk.
But apparently Erik had others things in mind…
"What, you don't want to go adventuring with me anymore? Bored of incompetent Amina?" she yelled, attracting the attention of a few of the Bannered Mare's patrons. Her cheeks were flaming red, her temper flaring.
"Look…I'll be leaving soon. Father misses me, and you know how he gets. I can't always be by your side, Amina. Besides, I'll be back in a month's time. You have to go out on your own, even make friends. Why don't you take Vilkas with you? "
"Vilkas isn't my friend."
"Vilkas is the most knowledgeable out of all the people I know in Nordic customs. He'd be a fine companion for these trials. And he knows the roads of Skyrim like the lines on palm of his hand."
"Heh, it'd be a miracle if he hasn't rubbed all those lines out, given that he's so insufferable I doubt any woman gets near him."
Erik laughed. "Oh, on the contrary. Don't forget I've spent more time with him than you have outside Jorvaskrr. There's many a wench at the Bannered Mare that has fallen to Vilkas and Farkas'…charms." He sighed. "Now if only Carlotta would fall to mine…"
"You don't have any charms, cousin, that's the problem. But I think Carlotta's warming up to you. She does keep the best apple of the day just for you, doesn't she? And she always sits next to you at the Mare. And, oh, let's not forget she nursed your bruises after that spat you had with Mikael."
He reddened, clenching his fists. "I should've made him swallow his teeth, that crude little son of a daedroth."
Amina laughed. "Nonetheless, even if you have the charm of a mudcrab, it seems you're winning her over, slowly but steadily."
He blushed, the tip of his ears turning snowberry red. "Speaking of winning over. Are you going to take Vilkas with you, or not?"
She huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine, I will. But only because your advice is precious to me. If I end up strangling him or throwing him off a cliff, it won't be my fault."
Erik hugged her, rubbing out the knots in her shoulders as she sighed in the embrace.
"You're a woman grown, cousin. I've taught you all I could, and you'll be fine. It's not goodbye forever."
She sniffed in his shirt. "You promise?"
He looked at her. "I swear by it."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too. At least I have Meeko to keep me company."
Said dog gave a happy bark, and Amina petted him on the head. "Traitor dog, you. But I supposed you never were much of a war dog anyway. And it'll be good for your pa' to have him, have something else to fret about besides you and the inn."
They both laughed.
"Do you want me to take a note with me? For auntie and uncle?"
Amina reddened. "Do you think they'd like that? I've not done anything important yet, except maybe have this dream, and I…I don't want them to think I've gone away for nothing. And I regret leaving like that, in the middle of the night. I must've worried them sick. What if they don't want to hear from me?"
"Amina, you're being silly. Pa' always says they're asking about you, and I've replied to the best of my ability, but you need to write to them. They think you're estranging yourself from them, and we both know that's not true."
She nodded. "Alright. Hand me over that quill and ink, I'll go ask Hulda for some paper. Oh…and tell them I'll visit come First Seed."
When she went back to Jorvaskrr, she felt the need to talk to someone, someone who was knowledgeable and could ease her nerves, and someone who wouldn't judge her fear of these things. She'd ask Vilkas later to come with her, but he wasn't the one she wanted to talk with right now. She felt too raw to be able to deal with his teasing today. Farkas had always been kind to her, but he wasn't knowledgeable in matters that weren't practical and immediate. Aela and Skjor were out hunting again, missing since last night. And the others – well, they were whelps just like her, and they didn't strike her as particularly knowledgeable. So that left Kodlak…
Kodlak, who had been kind from the start and had seen something in her and let her in when others would kick her before she even stepped foot in the hall. Yes, she'd talk to the old man…he was the wisest in the hall, nay, probably in all of Whiterun as far as she was concerned. And he'd know what to advise her.
She took a deep breath at his door, steadying her nerves. She made to knock, but as she raised her fist his voice interrupted her.
"Come in, lass."
Amina raised her eyebrows. How had he known someone was at the door, and that it was her? Another mystery…
She entered his room, softly shutting the door after her. She shuffled her feet a bit on the ground, unsure of how to start. Kodlak smiled softly at her, and pointed his hand toward the empty seat at his table.
"What's on your mind, Amina?"
She sat, putting her head in her hands and exhaling deeply.
"Are you not happy here?"
"No, no, that's not…I am very happy here." She gave him a watery smile. "I'm always kept busy and I never get bored, and everyone is kind even when they're rough, and I've learned so many things! It's…not anything related to the Companions. I hope I'm not bothering you…by coming to talk about things not related to the Companions. But I don't know who to talk to..."
"You are welcome at my door for whatever reason. You are one of us, and we are now family. Even if not by blood."
Finally, she let some tears fall. "I'm just so scared, Kodlak. It seems that ever since I stepped out of Rorikstead I'm someone's plaything. First it was Meridia who asked me to do her bidding, and now I dream of Kynareth and trials and secret powers out of my grasp…and they seem to hint about be having some greater destiny to fulfill, and I'm afraid…I'm so scared, because I don't want so much responsibility on my shoulders, I don't want to have someone tell me what to do like this, with expectations and divine wrath upon me if I don't…it's like my free will is taken away just so I can be a piece in whatever puzzle they're thinking on, and it seems like everyone's in on it except me."
Kodlak looked saddened by her confusion and grief, and he laid his hand on her arm. "Tell me all about it, and we'll find a solution. What was that about…divines?"
"First, it was Meridia. For some reason me and Erik took a wrong turn from Rorikstead and ended up in Morthal. In hindsight, that makes no sense."
"Yes, I've noticed your cousin knows these lands well."
"Exactly! He went back and forth from Whiterun to our village a thousand times, so getting lost seems like nothing short of an intervention to get us where she wanted us to be…Anyway. We reach Morthal, and Meridia sends me on a wild quest of slaying vampires and laying ghosts to rest to test my worthiness. Then, after all that's done, she decides she's had enough of testing me and sends me to her temple to cleanse it. And by cleanse it I mean cleave my way through shades and evil necromancers. And then she grants me her sword. It shone so bright I had to wrap it around in pelts. It's now in my chest; I was hoping to forget about it until I needed it. "
Kodlak's eyebrows seemed to merge with his hairline, but Amina didn't notice. Gods, it was good to get something off your chest, and she had no intention of stopping until she got it all out.
"And then, I come here, and everything seems fine. I'm swinging swords, killing bandits, making a small fortune in loot, and so on. Life goes on just as I imagined it…for about a month. And then this dream happens, and Kynareth tells me I must go and slay her guardian animals, receive her blessing, and fulfill my grand destiny…whichever that is. Gods know what it is, and I don't even want to find out. I wanted adventure, but it seems that old saying about being careful what you wish for is true. Still better than growing turnips year round, though."
Kodlak was dumbstruck. He took a big breath and steadied himself. Now, prophetic dreams he knew all about. Half of his came true the moment a stubborn whelp stepped into Jorvaskrr, with the other half still in waiting, making him feel anxious and hopeful day in and day out. But daedric boons and divine blessings…he knew nothing about. Now, daedric curses disguised as boons? That he was an expert in, especially now in his old age, when Sovngarde beckoned louder and louder each day. He internally shook these thoughts from his head. Amina looked tired and distressed, and he had to comfort her in some way.
"Listen, lass…you may be new here, but you are strong. There's fire burning in your eyes and in your heart, and no one will be able to take that away from you, or control that. Even if there is some unknown destiny waiting for you, it is your choice, and yours alone, to listen to it, and to those who want you to fulfill it. I will not deny that…these interventions you're experiencing are not unusual. However, they seem to be working in your advantage so far. Perhaps they are waiting for you to rise to a challenge not yet known, and they are helping you in that regard…I know not. Regardless, it is still your choice."
"A choice between doing as they say, or a Daedra's wrath. I mean, I'm not complaining about Kynareth, but you know things are dire when the Daedra get involved."
"It's still a choice. And yes, the Daedra are at best capricious, but Meridia is one of the… good Daedra. She'll protect you and guide you."
"I know…I'm not…I'm not ungrateful for this attention, and all this help. I'm afraid of what I'll need it for. Kynareth mentioned some greater destiny, but what if they put all the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I collapse under it? What if I screw up everything?"
"Then you train harder every day until you are sure you are strong enough to take your destiny head on."
"But it seems that it will take forever for me to ever get strong. I'm so weak compared to everyone else here…"
"That is just because they have been training for far longer than you have child. But know this: I've never seen someone with so much potential like you in a long while. I believe that, in time, you will grow to be one of our finest warriors. But you still have a lot of work ahead of you to get there."
"Is this my cue to go to the training grounds and hack and slash with renewed vigour?"
Kodlak laughed. "Perhaps. But first, give me more details regarding Kynareth's request."
And so Amina told him, and something seemed to click in Kodlak's mind. He went to the bookshelves, and took out a few tomes. Amina peered at the book stack in front of her. The first book's title was inlaid with silver letters and read: "The Book of The Dragonborn". The next were, in order: "Children of the Sky", "Aedra and Daedra", "Gods and Worship", and a few volumes on the history of the Empire, races, and Tamrielic provinces.
"But first – knowledge is power, and the pen, if not mightier than the sword, cuts just as sharp if used correctly. If you're set on a greater path, you'd better educate yourself on who is asking what of you, and in what conjuncture. You should also ask Vilkas to have a look in his personal collection. He has amassed, from what he boasts to me, some rather rare volumes in his travels."
"Why does everything go full circle back to Vilkas?" Amina muttered under her breath.
Kodlak laughed. "He is the most well-read of us."
"Erik told me to take Vilkas with me on this adventure. I'm not to keen on it…but may I? Unless he has other responsibilities?"
"He doesn't have any missions, but I am no one's master but my own. You'll have to ask him yourself."
"I'd rather ask him to toss himself off the Skyforge."
Kodlak laughed. "Ah, to be young again."
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"Ugh, why does it always have to be raining when I go adventuring? Can't I have a bit of sunlight, for once?"
"It's the season, whelp. Did you expect gentle breezes and warmth in Sun's Dusk?"
"No…but one can hope. Aren't you cold?"
He shrugged. "I'm rarely cold."
"Aw, come on, you must be freezing, stop playing the strong, Nord man role -" and she went to touch his arms to see if he was cold, but she found instead warmth to rival a campfire. "What the hell, how can you be so warm?!"
VIlkas smirked. "It's a secret."
"Tell me!"
"It wouldn't be a secret if I told you, whelp."
"Fine, then. You're probably used to the cold because of your frozen heart. Can't believe I listened to Erik and took you with me, your brother's much more fun."
"But not as knowledgeable in mythology matters. Such is your luck, little pest, to be saddled with me."
"You're the pest here, if anything else."
Vilkas laughed. "Where are we headed, little one?"
"So from what…err, knowledge got put in my head during the dream, the places we have to get to are in Falkreath, Dawnstar, Whiterun and Winterhold. I think we should go first to the Whiterun-located champions, then Falkreath. From Falkreath we could take a carriage towards Dawnstar, deal with the totem beasts there and then get to Winterhold on foot. "
"I wouldn't recommend we go there on foot. I don't want to hear you whine about the cold for days on end. Ever been to Winterhold? You'd be drowning in snow by the time you reach its gates. Full of snow trolls, too."
"What, you think I can't handle a few trolls? I handle you every day."
"You wish you'd handle me every day." He quipped, and Amina blushed a brilliant red.
"You know what I meant, you oaf!"
"The point still stands. You and the cold don't mix. And I might be so inclined to strangle you in your sleep if you whine too much in Winterhold."
She crossed her arms. "Fine, whatever. We'll go by carriage. But you're paying for it!"
A lapse of silence. "Still, I don't know where those locations are exactly. The ones in Whiterun are….hmm, a pond with a giant fossilized mudcrab and the other next to an inscribed stone."
"Might be the Ritual stone."
"Hmm?"
"Legend says that across the land there are stones scattered that when touched give someone some special abilities."
"Oh, Erik mentioned them. And I've seen them in passing, too. There is a cluster of three near Helgen, down the road to Riverwood. Where's that Ritual stone?"
"Just a day's walk from where we are now."
"Great, then! You're useful, aren't you?"
He glared at her. "I wouldn't be in the Circle if I weren't, whelp."
Silence lapsed in their little tent. Truth be told, it was a little cramped, and their bedrolls were so close together that at night Vilkas' breath would brush Amina's hair from her face every time he exhaled a little too forcefully. But it was raining cats and dogs, had been ever since they stepped out of Whiterun, so they took what they could…even this weird sort of intimacy that came with sharing space with another, and having your meals with them, and being considerate of each other's needs.
Vilkas often kept her up at night, not by talking, but simply because he slept so fitfully that it was a wonder he was rested at all. He would tremble and jerk in his sleep, his feet periodically spasming and kicking, hitting Amina in the shins more than once despite their bedrolls. He would growl and moan, and talk without meaning. Amina thanked the gods he didn't snore – that would've been the cherry on the cake. At first, she had woken him up, thinking she was saving him from some horrible nightmare. But his reaction upon waking was scarier than whatever she'd imagined he was seeing in his dreams: his eyes, wide and wild, just the barest hint of gold in the lantern light, his teeth bared, his hands in a vice grip against her arms, so close she could smell the mint leaves he chewed day and night on his breath... . He had apologised the next morning, and told her he suffered from awful nightmares and never got a full night of sleep, and that he'd rather she not wake him up lest he think she was an enemy and hurt her. That was the last time she ever tried to wake him up. And in a few days of journeying, she got used to his restless movements, and slept as soundly as she did back home in Rorikstead.
In the mornings, he'd offer her, almost apologetically, an energizing mix of herbs steeped in water. It was hot and soothing, and it often developed into a habit of exchanging brews. Amina would give him an infusion of honey and slumber-white root before they went to sleep, and he'd wait for her in the mornings with a hot mug. Sometimes, she joked to herself that Vilkas might actually care.
However, meals were always pleasant. They'd sit together by the fire, close but not quite touching, because it was cold, but not so cold as to forget who you were with, and they'd trade stories. Vilkas seemed to get bored easily by silence, and so he'd start pointing to an outcrop of trees, or a mountain, or a ruin in the distance, and tell her of an adventure or an interesting creature he found there. And Amina told him tales of her childhood shenanigans, and of the road to Whiterun, and how she got lost towards it and ended up in Morthal instead.
She didn't tell him of her being a thane, or Meridia's champion, and Dawnbreaker was still wrapped up in furs in her chest. Those things were better kept secret. And besides, she didn't want to do Morthal a disservice by letting everyone know that the newest whelp of the Companions was their thane; the city deserved someone strong to represent them, and one day, Amina would be just that. But not today. Today she was on yet another divine errand. Though she chose to be in it, she said to herself, remembering Kodlak's words. She wasn't anyone's plaything. She could've just as well stayed home, right?
As for the fights, well, she made Vilkas stay behind and watch her from afar. Of course, doing otherwise might've saved her from some nasty scratches and wounds, but she had an inkling that not taking them on her own might go against the whole point of the quest.
The troll champion was guarded by two other trolls that weren't too happy at being interrupted. After letting out a girlish scream when both of them charged at her, Amina took cover behind a jutting rock for half a minute to figure out how she could get past them towards her real target. Now, she knew that trolls were susceptible to fire, thanks to Vilkas telling her that just before she plunged into the fight…but how could she use it to her advantage? If they were susceptible to fire, surely they must be afraid of it…maybe even deathly afraid.
She ripped a few strips of cloth from her under-armor tunic, dipped them in some travel lantern oil, and quickly wrapped them around a few arrows. In hindsight, maybe she should've done this before barging into battle and angering the trolls. A lesson in strategy before battle, then. She took another look at her lantern oil… The trolls were getting closer to her hiding spot. Taking the oil bottle in one hand, and her bow in the other, she lunged from her hiding spot and directly in front of the trolls. She splashed the oil over them and made a run for it while the trolls were blinded by the oil getting into their eyes.
That bought her only a minute of time while the beasts thrashed around, but it was enough. She lit the cloth-arrows. She aimed. The first troll was on fire before it even managed to get back its sight. The other followed soon after. They both fell on the ground, their horrid screams filling the air as they died of immolation. That's when the guardian troll jumped in into the fray. It had been content to let its two real brethren deal with the pest, but now…now it was angry, and ready to draw blood.
The troll was half-spirit, so Amina had no idea how to approach it. She had assumed that the champions would be bigger, badder versions of normal animals, but spirits? For that she had not been prepared. It reached her before she managed to think of a plan, and swiped at her. It hit her right in the chest, making her ribs constrict painfully and sending her sprawling on the ground.
"Use your sword! Spirits are weakened by iron!" Vilkas yelled from the sidelines, barely keeping himself from running towards the scene and taking out the troll himself. Amina was getting a bad thrashing, and the troll didn't seem too merciful.
Amina scrambled up from the ground, wiped the blood from her face, and took out her sword. She swung. The ethereal skin of the troll fizzled and bubbled where her sword struck. She dodged its paws and claws, and struck a few more times. With each hit, the troll turned more and more transparent, and more and more enraged. The final hit came from sheer luck: as the troll lunged at her again, it left an opening. And exploit that opening Amina did, slicing its head clean off its ghostly body. The troll dissolved into thin air.
Vilkas ran to Amina and gripped her arms, getting her off the ground and checking her for injuries.
"I'm alright, Vilkas. I'm fine." She spread out her arms to showcase the few scratches she got. "See? Nothing fatal or worry-worthy. I've not dishonoured the Companions just yet." She winked.
Vilkas glared at her. "It wasn't the Companions' honour I was worried about, whelp."
Amina felt her face redden, embarrassed that she brushed off his concern like this, and feeling guilty that she snarked at him for no good reason…this time.
Her musings were interrupted by a male voice that materialized from thin air:
"You have defeated me in fair combat, champion."
Amina turned to Vilkas, and silently mouthed: "What.". He looked equally as surprised. A talking troll ghost: how's that for a weird beast encountered during a travel?
The voice continued. "You have defeated me and my guardians, and so to you I impart my knowledge. You will now know when to keep your strength and when to unleash it; you will now know how to heal yourself in battle faster, and your wounds will be less of a burden than they were before, no matter how severe. You have honoured yourself." And with these words, wind crashed into her and sent her sprawling on the ground. She gasped as she felt the knowledge enter her body.
Yet again, Vilkas helped her up. "That…was…amazing!" she yelled, smiling at him widely.
"Why even bother learning for yourself when you can beat a ghost to get its knowledge?" Vilkas asked, only half good-naturedly.
"Don't be jealous, Vilkas. At least you have a few years of knowledge ahead of me. I doubt you'll become redundant soon. I don't have – that- much luck, unfortunately."
Vilkas glared at her, but she saw he struggled to contain a half-smile.
And so they made their way to the guardian mudcrab. It lay waiting in its pond, its ethereal shell making the water glow, a kaleidoscope of light every time the wind blew over its surface. The moon shone brightly above, making it look almost real, almost truly material. Amina, having seen that rushing head-on is not the right choice, asked Vilkas what to do.
"Keep your distance. Mudcrabs don't like getting out of the water except for very short movement spurts to get their pray."
"So, a bow and iron arrows?"
Vilkas' mouth curled into a half-smile, half-smirk. "You're learning."
And so, the mudcrab guardian fell. And while it had not been an epic battle like the one with the troll guardian, thanks to Amina lessened desire to barge head-in into a fight, it toughed her just as many important things:
A melodic female voice filled the air: "You have defeated me in fair combat, mortal, and for this I grant you a boon: my knowledge. From this day on, you will now know how to protect yourself beyond wrapping yourself in steel and furs, as you human tend to do; hard on the outside, soft on the inside. And learn this, as my last words to you: just as the moon waxes and fills itself with time, so should you, no matter what befalls you."
After this, they pitched up their tent, and prepared themselves for another night. The stars were gleaming brightly, the Warrior constellation even more so, twinkling and shifting with the clouds overpassing. Vilkas and Amina were yet again sitting in their cramped tent, almost touching. Thankfully, it was a warm night, and the breeze was sweet and soft, so they weren't inclined to put their bedrolls even closer to keep warmth in the tenth.
"We need to make plans for the next champions, or we'll run out of bandages and salve soon enough. And don't even get started with that healing spell. You need training for that. Just knowing it doesn't mean you know it well. I've seen dumb mages set bones wrong with that spell and lose movement of a limb because of their own hubris."
"You're so old school, Vilkas. But I supposed you're right. I mean, I know how to heal scratches, but I don't know enough about how bones are set in the body to heal them well. And I'd rather not retire at the ripe of age of seventeen."
"Glad to see you're becoming smarter. Hang out around me more and you may even become competent."
"Pfft, you're just a sour old man upset that the young uns' are taking your place."
Vilkas looked appaled. "I will let you know I am not old. I am in the prime of my youth."
Amina laughed. "Oh, are you now? How old are you?"
"Twenty-five."
"Bah! Old! Halfway through your life, if you're lucky! Practically half-way towards becoming a draugr!"
Vilkas laughed. "I'll be lucky if I make it to fifty."
"How can you say that so flippantly? Don't you want to yknow, grow old, have a family and children and grandchildren, and be hailed as a hero in your youth while you relax in front of the fire?"
Vilkas' face fell, and he paled. "I don't think that's what destiny has in store for me. Certain things I…know…make me unable to dream for that. I'd be a futile dream." He then gave a fake laugh: "I'll just settle for tavern wenches and glorious battles. I love me my wenches and battles."
"You know, just because you're a Companion doesn't mean you need to die violently. And as much as I harp on about you, you're a good fighter. You won't die soon. And…as much of a troll as you are, you deserve happiness, and a family. And Kodlak said that whatever destiny has in store for us, there's always a choice. So you can either choose your wenches and battles forever, or try and find someone right for you when you get sick of them, and hope for the best. I never penned you for a romantic, though. The more I learn!" she smiled softly at him.
Vilkas scoffed, still looking sad. "Don't talk about what you don't know, whelp." He then rolled over, his back at her. "Good night.".
Amina frowned, and drew her knees to her chin. How could he open up to her like that, and then snap at her and be so mean the next? What an oaf. Why was she even bothering? she wondered.
The next morning, Vilkas pretended their conversation never happened, and so Amina followed his lead.
They were quiet for the rest of the journey south towards Falkreath, but Amina liked to think it was because they were both in awe of Falkreath's forests. Trees as tall as Dragonsreach or even taller blotted out the sky, and the light that came through was green or golden, filtered by their leaves, or escaping through gaps between their branches. She could see pollen and dust swim through the air, like glitter in the sunlight. Dandelion seeds and poplar tuffs made it look like it was snowing in some places, and Vilkas sneezed a couple of times when one or two got into his nose. Amina's face lit up: she had never seen such a beautiful place before.
She ran after the tuffs and dandelion seeds and spun around a couple of times, smiling and laughing, picking up a whirlwind of seeds in the process. Vilkas laughed at her antics, teasing her for being such a child, but in truth, he was smiling just as wide. It had been so long since he had seen someone enjoy things so openly, so innocently, untainted by the harsh realities of Skyrim…she was so light and untouched by evil that he could not help but feel warm inside. That's when she threw a handful of poplar tuffs at him and he started sneezing, cursing her to Oblivion and back for profiting from his allergies…and then retaliating with a handful of leaves in her face. They fought like this a couple of minutes, chasing each other around the forest and laughing, and for a single moment, Vilkas felt like the weight of the world was taken off his shoulders, like he was a child again, like before…
Their play-fight was interrupted by a wolf howl that sounded like out of this world. Reminded of their mission, they both stopped, looking at the other as if they've never each other before. Amina blushed tomato-red, and even Vilkas could feel his cheeks reddening at having made such a fool of himself. He coughed, re-arranged his armour and sword, and straightened up. Amina fidgeted, but did the same.
"Well, that must be your wolf guardian."
Amina nodded. "Well, let's get going. Any piece of advice?"
Oh, of those ha had plenty. He knew enough about wolves, given his condition. "Yes. Wolves are pack animals. Chances are that you'll deal with a whole pack, if it comes to that. They'll most likely protect the guardian and you'll have to hack your way through them. I suggest hanging tight on your shield. If you kill the guardian-leader, chances are the other wolves will disperse and you won't have to fight them at all."
Vilkas' words were true, and so Amina defeated the wolf guardian by barreling through its pack and slicing its head clean off its body. And the wolf's voice, male and deep, spoke:
"Good job, brave warrior. You are strong, so here is my lesson: you will learn how to be strong alone, and with your pack; how to talk with your pack so that you may all be safe, and how to work together for the greater good. Good luck, sister."
Vilkas shuddered at the wolf calling her 'sister'. It seemed ominous, and he did not like the idea.
But they pressed forward, towards the guardian bear, who loomed near the Falkreath mountains. There was no advice he could give her, because she'd fought bears many times as a whelp. Bears were alone and a known entity, not as tricky as wolves, and not as strong as trolls. And so she defeated the bear guardian, and it spoke, female and warm:
"You have defeated me, child, and for that I must congratulate you. My lesson is: keep close to your family, and to those who love you. You will learn from me how to be strong in love and for love, how to be patient, and how to care for those weaker than you."
Unfortunately, that said, they had to leave the haven of Falkreath and head north, towards the ice and wind of Danwnstar. The gentle breeze of the forest turned into an icy wind that they were both familiar with – the boreas that were so pleasantly cool in Whiterun's plains turned to cold menaces as they made their way up north. Specks of snow and icy lodged themselves into Amina's hair, Vilkas' short locks and every nook and cranny of their armour.
Amina thought that Vilkas' blue eyes looked like something out of a story book, shaded by the snowflakes stuck in his long, dark lashes. But of course, she kept her thoughts to herself.
The guardian mammoth was the first they reached, and as with the guardian troll, it needed a bit of planning to get through.
"Aim for the knees." Vilkas whispers in her ear, as they're huddled in the bushes behind the mammoth burial grounds she never knew existed. The bones rattle under the guardian's footsteps, and the tundra reigns supreme here, with only a couple of twigs under which they can take cover. Speed is of the essence. You don't mess around with a four-tusked menace the size of a house.
"Aim for the knees and make it buckle under its own weight, right? Like a giant? "
Vilkas nods. "Exactly like a giant."
Thanks to Aela's archery lessons, that proved as easy done as said. In quick succession Amina fired off four arrows that embedded themselves right in the knees of the mammoth. It doubled over in pain, and fell over. Then, Amina fired off another arrow, an ebony one she saved especially for the occasion and the mammoth's thick skull. The mammoth guardian faded away with that arrow firmly lodged between its eyes. Its last words were: "It seems you have taken my brethen's lessons to heart, young one. You do yourself, and our great mistress, credit. Two more to go, is that right? Learn this from me before you go, then: keep a journal and good memory, and you will last longer than most."
"Guess I've got to start journaling." Amina laughed, and so they made their way towards the skeever champion.
The guardian skeever went down with one sword slice, and left here these parting words in a high-pitched voice:
"You have bested me, traveller. Though I'd dare to say it doesn't take much to best me and my kind in fair combat. This is why we avoid it, and this is my lesson to you: from now on, you will know how to adapt to your conditions no matter what they are, and how to scurry unseen in the shadows if you so need. Farewell."
And finally, the guardian sabrecat. Thankfully, they arrived there much faster, huddled under some furs in a carriage from Dawnstar to Winterhold. It was cramped, but Vilkas' unusual body heat made for a comfortable ride, at least in terms of temperature. They hurried along, not stopping in Winterhold for supplies. Their journey was almost over, and they were both eager to get back home to Whiterun without further delays.
They found it near a glacier southeast of Winterhold. Thankfully, no one got clawed…too much. Amina put it down with a well-time slash to the chest while it reared back to strike at her. Unfortunately, that meant she had to open herself to the attack in the first place, earning some very nice claw marks across her chest. The armour took the brunt of it, but they stung as she walked. That wasn't the only parting gift the cat left her, because fading away it said:
"Congratulations, hunter. You can now say you killed yet another ghost. Aren't you a prodigy? I would've thought you'd been…taller, though. Here is my lesson: there is grace to be found in battle, and mastering it will help your skills; there is patience to be found in the hunt, and mastering it will give you the advantage. Now, be gone. "
The road back to Whiterun was quiet and uneventful. Amina spent most of the two-day journey sleeping on the floor of the carriage, huddled in furs. She was becoming increasingly thankful for Vilkas' abnormal body heat, which seemed to seep into the surroundings, as if he was some sort of heating machine. She felt warm and content and safe in her sleep. From time to time, Vilkas would re-arrange her fur blankets that she kicked away in her sleep so she wouldn't be cold.
They reached Whiterun well-rested and yearning for a warm bed and a few days of lazying around.
A gentle breeze made its way through the tundra, smelling of lavender and warming their skin. Suddenly, the wind picked up, and Amina grabbed Vilkas' arm to steady herself. It was a windstorm proper, bending the trees and making whirlwinds of leaves flow around them. Wind chimes rung in the air.
"It's Kynareth!" Amina whispered to Vilkas, who looked unsettled at the sudden change in weather. The wind chimes started getting lowder, and suddenly the wind was around her and in her, scattering about every tid bit of soul she had in her body as if looking at every piece and assessing it. The amulet started burning against her neck, and burrowed itself in her skin. It was absorbed like a salve through every pore, and it left behind solely a bruise-coloured mark cradled in the hollow of her neck: Kynareth's bird, wings splayed and head towards the sky.
She gasped and fell to the ground. Her throat was on fire, some unknown wind passing through it and into her very core. She could feel Vilkas' trembling hands on her back, soothingly rubbing circles as she hacked and coughed.
A voice rang through the treetops:
"You have proven yourself worthy, child. Go forth with my blessing and your shout shall be strong. Know this: your destiny would have unfolded even unworthy. Not even I can stop the passage of time and the offspring of Akatosh. But you have proven yourself worthy of greater strength than that granted by your blood. May your Thu'um be strong, and may wind guide you. From now forth you shall be called Amina Windborn, Daughter of Kynareth, and let all know that my teachings have not ended with Jurgen Windcaller and Paarthunax."
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Author's note:
This chapter took so long to write because…I actually accidentally wrote two chapters. I wanted to connect what happens here with another element of the story, but they both ended too detailed to be put together. So you'll get a new chapter VERY SOON. Still, can you imagine HOW LONG this would've gotten if I didn't split them up?
Also, I know Amina right now is a weakling, and probably dragon fodder. She may have been born Dragonborn, but just because you have the soul of a dragon doesn't mean you're innately a fighting prodigy. She'll grown in strength as the story progresses, because why should I ever make things easy for my characters? : )
This chapter relates to the Skyrim quest "Kyne's Sacred Trials", given to the PC by Froki. In-game the quest was much simpler: go, kill the beasts, get yourself a fancy trinket. I added more complexity to it by having the beasts teach something to Amina. Knowledge, I think, is more valuable than any amulet. Oh, and also, if you've paid attention to the tablets on the way up to High Hrothgrar, you'll know that Kynareth, aided by Paarthunax, taught man The Voice. So I'm keeping with the lore, folks, keeping with the lore…
Ghosts and undead are greatly affected by silver in-game, but who the hell has money for silver weaponry to fight that many opponents? So I added a bit of my own logic, and seeing as our own folk tales tell of iron warding off spirits…there you go.
Slumber-white is my Skyrim made-up name for Valerian, which is a very useful plant for sleeplessness. It's also used in pagan rituals of self-acceptance, guilt ending, and animal invocation (wink wink nudge nudge).
Read and review, and I'll love you forever!