.Author's Note: My apologies for not keeping to my posting schedule. The battery on my wifi hotspot decided to get fat, and I was unable to find any replacements locally. Then the one I ordered from Amazon got put on back-order. I'm risking using the old, defective battery to get this up to let you know what's going on, but I have no idea how soon I'll be able to start posting on a regular basis again.

Chapter 20 - Ill Met by Moonlight

Andreius led the group into Falkreath as soon as Odkiinbrii landed, going directly toward the Hall of the Dead, but they paused when he heard Brother Runil delivering burial rites.

"The god Arkay was once like us, bound to winding mortality. But he willingly gave up this existence that we might better understand the vagaries of life and death. It is through the ebb and flow of this cosmic tide that we find renewal and, in the end, peace. May the spirit of Lavinia and all those who have left this world and its suffering know the beloved serenity of Aetherius... and may we one day rejoin them in eternity."

When the service was over, he approached one of the mourners, who simply looked at him for a moment, then sighed and said, "A sad time."

"Indeed," Andreius replied. "Who died?"

"Our daughter. Our little girl. She hadn't seen her tenth winter."

"You have our condolences," Andreius said soberly. "How did she die?"

"She was... he ripped her apart. Like a sabre cat tears a deer. We barely found enough of her to bury."

Sorcalin frowned. "Who did that to her?"

"Sinding." He almost spat the name. "Came through as a laborer. Seemed like a decent man. He's stewing in the pit while we figure out what to do with him, if you've got the stomach to look at him. What could drive a man to do something like this?"

"In the pit?"

"A cell under the Guard barracks." The man sighed. "If you'll forgive me, Indara and I need to get a drink, and then care for our animals."

Sorcalin nodded. "May the Nine comfort you." He watched them leave, then turned to Andreius. "I think we should check out this Sinding. That description of what he did to the girl ... bothers me."

Minutes later, he was approaching Sinding's basement cell, having left Imiril and Arenim upstairs, with Andreius to protect them if something went wrong. When he neared the cell door, Sorcalin saw a Nord man, wearing ragged trousers with a rope belt, and generally shabby looking. "Come to gawk at the monster?" he said, sounding tired.

"Not exactly," Sorcalin said. "We were told you attacked an killed a little girl. Why?"

"Believe me, it wasn't anything I ever intended to do. I just..." He stopped as his voice cracked. "I ... can't control my transformations, and when I go were, the bloodlust takes over."

"I know," Sorcalin said, causing the nord to look up at him for the first time with anger.

"How could you possibly know, when ... " Sinding stoped midshout and frowned, taking a deep breath as he took notice of the new scent of wet dog. "You... you're one of us."

"Yes," Sorcalin answered quietly.

"Then you know what it's like."

"I remember, yes," Sorcalin admitted. "But I stayed away from population centers until I learned to control myself."

"Did you change at random, or only on full moons?" Sinding asked bitterly. "I tried that, but sometimes you need to earn money for things you can only get in town." He sighed again. "I had just come into Falkreath. They needed some help working the mill, and I thought that would be something safe. Something I could do. I felt calm, as much in control as I can ever be."

"Obviously not as much as you thought."

"Obviously," Sinding agreed. "For a few days everything went just fine and I hoped, for just a moment, that I could perhaps stay here."

"But then you saw that little girl." Sorcalin continued, to which Sinding nodded.

"Yes. I saw her just outside the gates as I went to the mill. I didn't think much of her just then, but once I started working, I couldn't stop thinking about her. At first I hoped it was just concern about her being outside the town, but then ... "

He paused as he tried to compose himself, without much success. "I couldn't stop thinking how she smelled and would taste, and before I realized what was happening, I found myself walking to where I'd seen her. I knew what was coming and tried to fight it, warn someone of what was about to happen. But I couldn't."

He looked at Sorcalin, clearly hoping to find understanding. "I needed to hunt. But this pitiful, limited body wasn't meant for hunting. Slow. No claws. Weak, mashing teeth for chewing cud. I held in my rage as long as I could. But it boiled inside of me. She looked so fragile. Helpless prey. And then ... I feel terrible about what happened. About what I did." He shook his head. "And terrified - they're going to kill me!"

With that, he shifted, then bolted out of the pit.

Sorcalin cursed as he used his ring to transform, hoping that he could stop Sinding's wolf before any more inocent lives got taken. As he climbed the stairs, bumping several times against the wall due to his size after the transformation, he started to hear screams of the civilians and Andreius barking orders to the guards, ordering them to get everyone inside and stay out of the werewolf's way.

He ignored everyone , pushing through the crowd to the open door, only vaguely aware that someone recognized him. The doorway was too small, so he ripped the door completely off its hinges so he could squeeze out. Andreius was holding Sinding off, and Sorcalin charged, ramming into the werewolf as Sinding lunged toward his parter.

Andreius knew to back off as the two werewolves fought, rolling in the street as they clawed and bit. Considering the relative sizes and the fact that Sor was armored, the only surprise was that the fight lasted almost a full minute befere Sorcalin got his jaws around Sinding's throat and the other went limp, transforming back.

Sorcalin stood and picked up the Nord, then carried him out of town, frowning and wondering what to do with him. Yes, he knew justice required that Sinding die ... but he also remembered very clearly how irresistible the blood-lust had been in his own early days as a werewolf, before he and his wolf-spirit had come to terms. Perhaps find a pack for him - ?

Several shapes appeared, faintly at first, then seeming to solidify, and Sorcalin inclined his head to the central one, which had a human body and a deer head.

"Do not hesitate, my champion," he was told. "This one is worth neither your time nor your hunting skill. He is a weakling and a disappointment, but unfortunately he is still mine, and has a place in the Hunting Grounds. Shall I give him another chance to prove himself?"

Sorcalin nodded again. Perhaps with an isolated pack, where he can strengthen himself.

"So be it, then, my champion." Hircine nodded, slowly. "There is such a pack, east of Boethia's Sacellum and Narzulbur. Take him there, if you think him salvageable."

I do not know, my Lord, but in similar circumstances, I would appreciate such a chance.

"Do so, then, with my blessing."

Half an hour later, the four had landed back in Dawnstar, and were sharing drinks and a meal in the Frozen Hearth. "Where next?" Imiril asked. "Solitude, wasn't it?"

"That was the original itinerary," Andreius replied, "but we were originally going from Riften by way of Windhelm, Winterhold, then here, until we got sidetracked by the Great Restoration. So backtrack to Windhelm and maybe Solstheim, then back here and get back to the itinerary, or skip those two?"

"Don't skip Solstheim, please!" Arenim exclaimed. "I would really like to visit Dovahkiin's Temple. I understand she would rather not be worshiped, but ... for us Odmer, that is not a realistic expectation."

"Backtrack, then," Imiril said, smiling at his wife, then turning to Andreius. "Since you asked."

"I did, indeed, and we'll do so. If Odkiinbrii will fly us to Windhelm, since we've already been to Winterhold, and they don't have a stable."

"He will," Arenim replied confidently.

Imiril was appalled at Windhelm's state of disrepair, and the hostility it still held to non-Nords. "This used to be your capital?" he asked Andreius. "It's ... umm. Not quite what I'd expect of a capital."

"It used to be, yes, but that was a long time ago, as you can tell by how badly steps and such are worn.

"Solitude's the nominal capital now, though Whiterun's the de facto capital, since that's where High King Balgruuf lives. Both are a lot nicer. And I might point out that Jarl Brunwulf here is making changes as quickly as his people's attitudes will allow. Argonians still live on the docks, but Dunmer are starting to move outside the Grey Quarter, and Khajiit are allowed inside the gates during the day."

"Nothing like Helgen, then," Arenim commented.

"No," Andreius agreed. "Helgen's unique at this point, but that'll change, I predict. Helgen's prosperity is quite an incentive to copy it. Windhelm will get there in time."

A touch on Arenim's shoulder caused her to turn, and see another Odmer in priestly robes smiling at her. "Greetings, cousin. Are you and your companions here for the pilgrimage?"

"Pilgrimage? To the temple of She Who Restores?"

"Indeed." The priest smiled again. "If so, you would be welcome to join me and my followers. We'll be leaving on the Northern Maiden at the morning high tide. Though you might need to pay extra."

She glanced at Andreius, who shrugged. "Up to you and Imiril," he said. "We're in no hurry."

"Yes, let's join them," Imiril said. He was supposed to be learning about the Empire, after all, and he could do that better aboard ship than simply flying to Solstheim on Odkiinbrii.

They had a pleasant evening with the group of pilgrims, then - after paying Captain Gjalund extra, yes - a not-unpleasant, if rather choppy, trip to Solstheim.

The group stopped at the Retching Netch for the night, where Andreius took the opportunity to speak to a friend of his. Sitting at the bar, he ordered a sujamma, then grinned. "Looks like you're pretty busy tonight, Geldis."

The Dunmer returned the grin. "Not particularly, these days. Between the mine opening back up and the new deposits Gratian's sniffed out, plus the pilgrims visiting Dovahkiinro Temple, this is pretty much the norm. I've had to expand, and there are a couple of new corner clubs under construction. Councilor Morvayn is elated at the prosperity, and the renewed support he's getting from House Redoran."

Teldryn Sero joined Andreius. "Been a while, Andreius," he said. "We hear you've been busy, you and Sorcalin."

"Probably ... hmm. Five years, maybe, since Sor and I were here last. The place doesn't seem all that different, at least on the surface. Yeah, we've been busy, recently, especially since the end of the Second Great War."

Teldryn snorted. "On the surface, yeah. But Geldis is right. Things have been changing fast the last several months, and the Dragonborn's as much a hero to Solstheim as you are to the whole of Morrowind." He chuckled at Andreius' expression. "Of course we know, and have for some time ... probably not long after you revealed yourself to the General Staff. Unless you make it clear you want something kept secret, the dragons will get any interesting information out in a hurry."

"I know," Andreius said with a sigh. "So you know she's pregnant, then."

"Of course. There was a big party the night we got the news she was safe, and another one when we got that news. Profitable as Oblivion, but I had to get an emergency resupply of food and booze afterward. Thank Azura for dragons willing to carry cargo!"

"Hmm? That's a new one - they are?"

"Well, a few ... not very many, and none of the major types, but a few ordinary ones or even Elders will, if you have a cow or good song to trade."

Andreius chuckled. "A good song or story from here, then, unless you've figured some way to raise cattle with no grass!"

"Right," Geldis said. "I don't suppose you could get Her Majesty to restore Morrowind the way she did Winterhold?"

Andreius laughed out loud. "She had nothing to do with that - and since she refused divinity, I don't think you can expect a positive response."

The walk from Raven Rock to Dovahkiinro Temple was silent except for prayers led by the priest. Like Arenim, all of the Odmer had been Restored by Yssha, and all were reluctant to use any of her names, out of respect ... Yssha, to them, was simply She or Her. Dovahkiin, perhaps, but only if necessary to specify who was meant.

Arenim caught her breath at her first sight of the Temple. It was complete, not like the sketches she'd seen of it under construction, and it was beautiful. Dragon mounds surrounded it, those who had been killed by Miraak and lived now in Her. And there was a statue of Her beside the main entrance - realistic, unlike the shrine at its base, the dragon-headed Khajiit; the statue was Herself, in dragonscale armor, with mace and sword at her sides, hands raised in blessing.

The pilgrims were met by Her only priestess, Qolaas. A Nord woman, clearly, one Arenim had been told had begun as a Dragon Priestess, killed and turned into a draugr, then restored by Her. Arenim, along with the rest of the pilgrims, began to kneel, but Qolaas said, "Nid. Remain standing, for Her Litany."

Heads bowed, but they remained standing, and Qolaas began the ceremony with prayers to Akatosh and Talos, then the litany itself.

"Mon do Akatosh, Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!" [Daughter of Akatosh, Dragonborn, for your blessings we pray!]

"Fah hin kogaan mu draal!" the pilgrims responded.

"Dovahkiin, Kriid do Faal Lein-Naakiik!" [Dragonborn, slayer of the World-Eater!]

"Fah hin kogaan mu draal!"

At the rear of the crowd, Andreius turned to Sorcalin and spoke softly, so as not to interrupt the rest of the litany. "Divines, I'm glad Yssha isn't here for this - she'd be horribly embarrassed."

"At best," Sorcalin agreed. "I feel sorry for her, you know. All she ever wanted was a normal life, and she's gotten the exact opposite. And I have a feeling she hasn't seen the last of the things she won't like."

Andreius nodded. "I'm pretty sure you're right. It's not even up to the level of a hunch, but ... maybe at least some things will get better for her, as well as worse."

"You'll do your best to see to that, I'm sure, and so will her winged sibs. And me, as long as I'm around."