A new dawn comes with a restless night. Twenty days have passed, and I thank the Divines for a rest between the training Skjor puts me through, forcing me to change into the beast… the whole time I've been here I've been forced to change thirteen times. An unlucky number some say… but, today I do not have to go through it, I wish I could say the same for tomorrow. It's been tiring on my spirit, and I have fear that with each transformation I undergo, I stray further from the Gods, despite my more than daily prayers. I've started assisting at the temple of Kynareth to feel closer to the Divines, as well as to slightly appease my homesickness for Bruma and my family. It doesn't seem to help much, as my self loathing of the curse has been increasingly draining on my spirit.
A pang of guilt hits my chest, it's been nearly a month since I've left my home, and I hadn't thought to write to them once. I walk over to the small, square table where my journals, inkwells, and quills lay. I rummage through my supply bag, looking for spare paper, wax, and my priestess seal. I light a few more candles, so I have enough lighting for my letter home, I begin.
13th of Rain's Hand, year 201 of the 4th Era -
To my dearest family,
I'm sorry I haven't written sooner, I made it to Skyrim safely, as well as the trading city of Whiterun. I've been settling in with the legendary companions themselves! Most of them are gruff, but there are some sweet dears here. They are a lot like the knights back home, but there are no knights here in Skyrim, they laugh at the name even. Seems it's too fancy I suppose? I should probably bring up my… problem… there is no fix for it, I was told, it crushed me… they are helping me manage it, they are somewhat accepting of me, in exchange for them helping me, I help heal them and give spiritual guidance when needed. The more gruff warriors do not believe in a lot of that, but the leader, Kodlak, he is very open about it, he knows his time to join Atherius is soon. I'll be there for him, and I'll perform the sacred rights as I've been taught.
On an unrelated note, a local woman was seduced into breaking the trust Mara bestowed upon she and her husband… what is really upsetting to some local Nords here is that it was with a wood elf, they aren't very welcoming of them. I thought it was just since the Great War, but I think it may run deeper than that, their hatred of elves… I've offered my counsel to the woman, so she may seek forgiveness in Lady Mara. She's hesitant, it seems the marriage wasn't too healthy to begin with… she suspects her husband of doing the same with the count. Wait, they are called Jarls in Skyrim.
I'm working on learning more about our people's culture while I'm here as well. There's a lot I don't know, and what I do is 'too Imperial or Cyrodiilic' to be proper Nordic. I'm doing as much reading as I'm able. I discovered that a lot of the Nords of Skyrim that are very traditional follow more than the eight Divines. There's one that's very similar to Kynareth, called Kyne, and I think there's one called shore…? Store…? I'm not too sure. There's many more. Speaking of, I managed to get my own set of shrines in my room to be closer to the Divines. It was very considerate, seeing as they aren't always on hand at the market, they had to be shipped in.
I suppose this letter is getting a little long… there's just so much to talk about. I promise I'll detail everything I can once I return home, I hope it won't be too long now. I'll try to write more often. I still need to figure out how the courier system works here… it's a bit odd, I think there's different groups throughout the province instead of just one like at home. I heard they sometimes feud over territory. It's strange.
Best of love,
Priestess Lyra Osiris,
Daughter of head priest and priestess of the Great Chapel of Bruma
I reread my letter a few times, thinking over the past few weeks. Seems that I've covered the major bits that I'm able to share by letter. With my approval of the note, I set it out to dry before I head out to do my daily routine that I've developed. Help Tilma with preparing breakfast, praying at the temple, bringing food to the beggars for the day, then I'm able to do my more relaxing priestly duties.
...
The day had come and gone in a blink of an eye, and as I knelt at the base of my shrine to the Divines, prayer beads clutched in my clasped hands, worry coursed through me as I prayed for strength and forgiveness for what is to come the next day. My forceful transformation still won't be easy, even if I've begun to reluctantly undergo the changes, just to make it easier, even if just slightly noticeable. A knock at the door rouses me from my prayer.
"Come in," I raise my voice so it's heard through the thick wood of the door, dusting off my evening tunic as I stood. The door creaks when opening, Skjor stepping in and closing the door, a stern look on his face as always, but his eyes held anticipation.
"I thought there wouldn't be training tonight?" worry creeps into my voice, my hands wringing the cloth of my tunic.
"There isn't, but you haven't been making much progress, which is an issue." Skjor crosses his arms as he leans back against the stone wall, his eyebrows drawing together in frustration.
"You are by far, the most hopeless student I've had to teach. You are so reluctant to even try, that you are just having me drag you along, and whimpering like a pup when it's time to start," he then lowers his voice, "not to mention how you are basically feral when you are in form, and the only reason you haven't killed anyone yet, is because you know your rank when I'm around." He huffs in irritation and pulls out a book that was under his arm this whole time.
"I want you to read this. You must think like us, to be able to control it like us."
Examining the book, the brown leather worn and fading, no letters adorning the cover, nor the spine. When I flip through the pages, there are illustrations of moons, wolves, and everything related to one cursed with the beast.
"Spend the day reading tomorrow, be ready by nightfall," Skjor turns to leave, his stern expression never changing from frustration. The door shuts behind him before I can even ask any questions about the book, it's weight weighing down in my hands, much like my soul in my body. Weary with the task, though small, ahead of me, I slide the book beneath my bed, tucked away behind my chest of belongings - an upgrade from just my knapsack - so it wouldn't be seen if someone were to snoop through my things… doubtful, but it's best to be cautious, the only ones that know of the curse are the higher members, and Tilma - how could she not, working here as long as she had, thank the Divines she's a loyal old woman - and with that last peaceful thought of the dear woman, who I've come to call a friend, I finish my nightly routine and slip off to sleep. Plagued by nightmares of wolves, a whole pack snarling and howling, surrounding me, yet never pouncing to attack.
...
For those having difficulties getting attuned with the Beastblood, one must first understand the wolf's nature. How they behave, their instincts, and their intelligence is much like man's, they have a hierarchy, much like the nobles of Cyrodiil and High Rock, but without the betrayal and other nonsense we humans have decided to partake in. First to understand the way of the Beastblood, you have to fully understand the common wolf of Skyrim.
Standing on all four legs, when running, they are much faster than us, so you must think like that. They can also be stronger than some warriors, but this strength is often seen in the form of a pack. A pack can be anywhere in numbers, from two to many. Within the pack, there are the alphas, a female and male, they are the ones that have a say in most things, when to hunt, eat, and when to produce pups. This is all based on instincts. This is key to merging with the beast within, you must let go most, not all or else you will fully become beast, of your human traits, faith, prejudices, so all that's left is the base instincts, morality - we are still accountable for our actions - and our consciousness.
You must also remember that the beast within is also intelligent, it is a living spirit that has become one with our own, it has its own emotions, important to distinguish between your own, and your beast's. Remember however, that you are in charge of the beast somewhat, but it's more of a mutual understanding.
...
I pause my reading, staring at the illustration of a face, the left half belonging to a man, the right to a wolf. What the book seems to be implying is that I can communicate with the beast. I skim through the pages, looking for any information on if one could ask the wolf to leave, but I find nothing. The book seems to be targeted at those who willingly took on the curse… I was never willing. Mara, save me, I groan in defeat and frustration, my hands gripping onto the base of my hair, nails digging into my scalp. There really is no cure then? Denial has me skimming through more pages of the book, not one word alluding to a cure, and the dread I felt when Kodlak had informed me of such crushes over me all over again, my last glimmer of hope extinguished like a candle in a windstorm. The only answer I have is what will happen soon, the morning had come and gone, and with an ache in my stomach, I realise I've been in bed reading until around noon or after. Kynareth, please lift the weight from my shoulders as you do with the branches of trees with wind, I pray, readying myself to continue on with my day. I must have strength to handle the training tonight.
I will speak to the beast, I will demand it to leave me so that I may continue my priestly duties without fear. I listen to the sounds of Whiterun in the eve, making sure there's no one around as I enter the Underforge like so many times before, but this time I pray it'll be the last.
...
Skjor sat waiting in the chamber, already in his beast form, as he has come to do after the first few sessions. I turn to face the stone wall, still not comfortable undressing in front of him, it's just not right for a priestess to do so, unless of course it's a priestess focused solely on Dibella, which I'm not. It's always so cold in here, the stone radiates it, and being unclothed worsens it.
With a deep breath, I set my robes down, waiting for Skjor to force me to change. I've come to realise that with a certain howl he emits, it causes me to change into the wretched beast. I close my eyes, imagining I am in the plains of Whiterun, the wind blowing the tall grass, the calls of pheasants and other birds hiding amongst the stems filling the air. I try to imagine what it would feel like. The scent of dry grass and dirt reach my nose, the earthy smell calming, to my senses. The sound of a breeze whistling, distant, but lightly echoing, coming from the stone tunnel I've never gone down. Then, the overpowering smell of stone, musty air, and the strongest smell being wolf. The faint, echoey drip of water in the cavernous tunnels. Surely I can't be imagining all of these?
In my mind's eye, a spectral wolf leaped and landed in front of me, haunches raised, amber colored tendrils of wispiness raising off the wolf's fur. I furrow my brows in confusion, as I mentally wonder why this beast had appeared before me of its own will. The large wolf dips it's head and blinks, and I gasp in shock.
'Do not cower from me, for I am part of you. As I have been for many moons now. Have you finally accepted me? I've been waiting to communicate with you.'
I vigorously shake my head, my shaking hands gripping onto one another for stability, as they would to my robes if I had them.
'No, I cannot accept you, nor do I want you to be a part of me. I'm a priestess, not a vile beast. The gods will save me from my intertwined fate with you. Untangle yourself from my soul, I and the Eight command it so!' I shout in my mind at the beast, sounding braver than I would if this beast were physically in front of me.
The spectral wolf snarls, it's tail lowered, the ears flat. Before I can even think of what it's doing, it lunges for me, and I yelp, crashing back against the stone wall of the cave, the world going dark as it has so many times before, my body full of pain as it is forcefully changed once more.
...
A loud huff escapes the large male werebeast's snout, his muscles tensing at the sight. The priestess had started to show signs of finally accepting the wolf's nature, but when her face started to show stubborn resolve, he knew she must be arguing with the beast. It is promising however, as this is progress, but she was once again consumed with its authority over her own spirit. They need to learn to be in harmony, or the mortal soul of the girl will be entirely consumed by that of the beast. Thank Hircine above the twins didn't struggle nearly as bad as she does. For them, it took only a couple transformations for them to gain control. Myself and Aela both got it on the second try. But this pitiful pup before me? A disappointing fourteen times, and she still hasn't gotten control! If Hircine were here, he would strike her down without a thought for being so incompetent.
A howl breaks through the thoughts of the silver wolf, the transformation of the female werebeast complete, panting after the small internal struggle between the wolf spirit and the human one. The silver beast huffs once again, having to wrangle the excitable wolf for yet another night.
...
I awaken in the same place I always do after one of the horrid transformations, laying on the cold stone ground of the cave, my entire body aching with the chill, as well with the aches from the changing. I sit up gingerly, pulling my priestess robes to my chest, shivering from the cold. Reluctantly, I get up, wincing at the aches and pains as I slip on the robes, then my furred foot wraps.
Not knowing the time, I quickly - well, as quickly as my aching body allowed - hobble down the tunnel to the entrance, wanting to be back in my quarters as soon as possible, and to draw a much needed bath. I cringe at the amount of noise the stone entrance to the Underforge makes, stepping out into fresh air once more, my breath billowing up before me. I should come to expect that it will be before dawn when I leave, it always is, just as it is now. I jump and wince when the stone door starts closing with a loud grating sound as it slides back into place, seemingly invisible to those who don't know it's there. I glance up at the twin moons, uttering a prayer of gratitude for being able to survive yet another horrid night, before quickly slipping back inside Jorrvaskr, my teeth chattering away as my hands rub together, desperately trying to warm them back up. It is too cold to stay outside long during the night, especially during Rain's Hand.
A huff of annoyance catches my attention, and I see Vilkas at the long table, scowling at me more than usual. I've not really spoken much with him. At all really. What I do know are tidbits of information from his brother, and some from the other companions. I furrow my brows in surprise when he gestures for me to come sit at the table next to him. Perhaps he seeks friendship? Or maybe he wishes for guidance for prayer? Either way, I make my way to a seat next to him, my muscles aching the whole way, and take a seat, wishing the chair to be padded.
"Skjor tells us you still struggle with the blood. Why do you keep it up? Why must you fail each and every time, just to suffer?" He speaks after I settle in the chair. I pause, completely off guard by his topic, I hadn't even thought about him wanting to talk about... that... but why wouldn't he? He's part of the circle.
"I... I don't want to turn into the beast, willingly or not... but I do want to learn to control it so I may be able to not harm the innocents. I fear my prayers are not strong en-" he cuts me off with a scoff, his arms crossing over his tunic.
"The gods do not care for those of us cursed. As I've learned a long time ago, you should as well. The only one who can help you control it, is you. Me and my brother, we are able to completely forego all transformations thanks to Kodlak. We do not need the gods, we do not need the beast, just our sheer strength of will, not faith." He spits the last word out with a sneer, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I understand not everyone had faith in the gods, as they do not commune directly with us all, which leads to the unguided feeling abandoned... but to rely on just willpower? Is that possible?
"Think of what I've said. And a word of advice," he stands and turns in the direction of the stairs to the lower halls, "quit blabbering about your gods to me. The only ones that deserve that high of a praise are great heroes who actually give a damn about saving people." I watch him go until I hear the door to the halls close, and I stare at the empty table before me. Is it truly possible to suppress the beast like he says? I dearly hope so... with a yawn, I too head to the halls for much needed sleep on something more comfortable than the cold stone floor of the Underforge.
...
After another rest plagued with unsettling dreams, I make my way upstairs for some food, passing sweet Tilma on the way.
"Ah, there you are dear, I prepared lunch about twenty minutes ago, make sure you eat up good," she smiles sweetly, a broom handle held in her hand.
"I'm sorry I wasn't able to help you with cooking today... are there any errands you need me to run? It's the least I can do for sleeping in..." she gives me a grandmotherly smile and pats my cheek, shaking her head.
"No need to trouble yourself, deary, but if you really want to explore the city, I do need some more herbs and spices from Arcadia, she's the alchemist in the market. She may need help with her garden, so take your time, just be back before dinner!" She chuckles and continues sweeping the floor. I say farewell to the old woman and head upstairs for some lunch. I usually miss breakfast after the nights with Skjor, but never lunch until now... I always woke up before, at least I didn't sleep in too late... I still feel so exhausted and bone weary though, no matter the amount of sleep I got. Why one would willingly take on this curse, I'll never understand.
...
A cauldron hanging from the spit near the central hearth fills the room with the warm, hearty scent of rabbit stew, and my empty stomach rumbles as I grab a bowl to ladle the delicious smelling meal into my dish. Thankfully there's still plenty of rabbit bits in the cauldron so I didn't miss out on it for sleeping in. I grab some bread to dip into the broth as I sit at one of the end of the table, all the other companions busy with work, training, or other duties, so the vast hall feels emptier from being the only one in it. At least it'll allow me to eat my meal quickly so I can run the errand for Tilma.
...
The melodic tinkling of a bell fills the air as I step into the alchemist's shop, making the woman organising the shelves pause.
"Welcome to Arcadia's Cauldron, if you need anything, just let me know. I have ingredients on that end," she gestures to a wall of shelves full of jars of many different ingredients, "and potions behind the counter," she nods her head to one of the shelves she's currently working on.
"I'm here to pick up some goods for Tilma. She also mentioned you possibly needing help in your garden?" I say, stepping up to the counter with a list of supplies given by Tilma before I left. Hearing the alchemist's Cyrodillic accent brings on a wave of homesickness, as not many in this city have it, mainly varying between a thick Nordic accent, to one somewhat similar to the Nords back home that travel from Skyrim and back frequently.
"Ah yes, I was wondering when someone would stop by," she steps off the stool, and bends down to grab something from under the counter, retrieving a large burlap sack of items. Checking through it, comparing the items to the list, I nod in confirmation that everything is there. It's nice doing simple, mundane things such as running errands, almost allows me to forget the curse that my life now revolves around...
"Are you alright? You look a bit worse for wear... I am a healer, if you're needing a checkup." She offers, her eyes examining my face, causing me to turn away and rub my tired eyes.
"Just a restless night, bad dreams." I explain, waving my hand to dismiss the concerns, a yawn following right after.
"Trouble sleeping, eh? I may have just the thing, a good friend of mine introduced it to me, hold on just a moment," she disappears into a back room, coming back after a moment of shuffling sounds with a small vial of purple liquid.
"This here, is sleeping tree sap, just a sip of this will cure all your nighttime woes, and have you sleeping like a hibernating bear. Well, not for as long as one, but you'll wake up feeling well rested and refreshed. Interested?" She hands me the vial to look over. I've never heard of sleeping tree sap... but I have good faith it'll work, if an alchemist is recommending it.
...
The bucket of weeds next to me gets another bristly addition, my knees comfortably cushioned by the thick layer of moss surrounding the inner garden beds of alchemical ingredients. If it weren't for the weariness in my muscles and bones, I could close my eyes and imagine myself back in Bruma, working in the chapel's garden that allows us to meditate in the warmer months. I can hear the twinkling wind chimes, lightly clanging against each other in the spring wind, the sound of chirping birds flitting through the trees. I sigh in contentment and longing, my imagining bringing inner peace to my mind and soul. Then the birds quiet, and my daydream seems to still, the colors duller than they should be... a menacing sounding growl sounds from behind me, and I jerk myself around, only realising I must have dozed off in the alchemy garden, my surroundings once more Whiterun, and not Bruma. The growl must have been the beast... it is rather symbolic in a way, my peaceful and happy life, interrupted by the monster I am now forced to share my existence with. Like a leech on my soul.
I shiver at the mere thought, a leech with the head of a wolf, mouth clamped tightly around my neck... is it indeed possible to suppress something that has become so intertwined with one's life? Of course it will not remove such a parasitic being, but maybe... maybe I can exist as I once had... I sincerely pray that I do, if I cannot be cured, and I cannot regain control of the monster... I will either need to permanently isolate myself somewhere, far away from any innocents who could get in harms way... or... I shudder at the alternative. Death. Where would my soul go if I am plagued with this curse? Surely I am not allowed into Atherius or any Aedric realm... does that mean... that my soul will be cursed to wander Nirn eternally? Suffering? Or worse, will my soul belong to a Daedra?
My fearful contemplation pauses as I thoroughly check over the garden, now weed free. Grateful for the moment from those thoughts, I dump the bucket of weeds into the bin labeled as compost, taking off the gloves Arcadia had lent to me in the tool closet, as well as the small trowels and clippers. I look over my work, Zenithar is surely proud of my labor today, I smile proudly, happy that my previous string of thoughts are momentarily forgotten in favor of pleasing the Divines in the simple activities of life.
...
I tuck the satchel of vials full of purple liquid into a drawer of the nightstand next to my bed. I dearly hope it'll help with the nightmares... it's now early evening, dinner has been done for about twenty minutes or so by now for the others, I had retired to my room early and eaten on my own, as I needed to think over what Vilkas had told me earlier today... I've come to a decision, now it is only a matter of if I have the courage to bring it up with Kodlak... how does one even go about asking such a thing? Without being too blunt as to say, 'I wish to become your pupil and suppress the beast as you do,'. The walls are thick, and although I do worry about the non-afflicted companion members learning of the curse, what I fear about asking Kodlak to teach me, is that my current mentor might take great offense to my choice...
From the time spent with the Companions, Skjor is definitely one of the ones with the most vile temper, and he, as well as Aela, are in love with the power their beasts give them... I cannot see any good that can come from such a curse, it is only a matter of time... though they may be happy with their souls not going to reside with the Divines in the afterlife, I worry that their times may come sooner than Arkay has planned due to the chaotic nature of the beasts... even if my choice comes with the cost of being shunned by the two companions, I will still be there for them and pray for them when the time unfortunately comes... I can just sense it...
(Note: so I mainly write these when I either want practice to get better at writing, or I have ideas, or even when I have inspiration. There's no telling when that'll be tho, which is why it's been... THREE years?! Oh wow, it HAS been a while 😅)