Dawn of the Companions

by gingerlyspeaking

Four months after the death of Alduin, a growing evil builds in Skyrim once again. Struggling with coin—the Dragonborn, Mimzi, joins the Companions in Whiterun. Only to discover the ranks of Jorrvaskr harbour a dark secret. When tragedy hits Whiterun, the Companions leave their hall under a vengeful calling with unlikely allies to save Tamriel from catastrophe.

3. The Trial

[A/N: Welcome back! Bringing Vilkas to the stage, everyone. Our tritagonist will be deeply struggling this chapter, but his struggle will continue for further chapters but depleting severity.

This chapter subtly follows the events of the Companion quest line but layered in my own razzle dazzle. I thank everyone for taking time to read my stories and I do hope you enjoy and follow!]

---

Chapter 2: The Trial

"Another spiced wine, Nazeem?"

Elrindir, the Wood Elf tavern owner of the Drunken Huntsman asked the Redguard noble.

Nazeem scowled haughtily, "Of course. When I finish my glass, you should know to fill it, unless I say otherwise."

He sat on the elegant furnishing of Whiterun's most prestigious inn. It was a tavern only for the wealthy and respected of Whiterun. To spend their buckets of coin on expensive, indulgent ale and gossip in peace amongst each other, away from the ears of commoners in the Bannered Mare. Elrindir poured more of the fragrant wine into Nazeem's chalice where he took a generous slurp and looked over to the patron at the table next to him.

"Ah. Olfrid Battle-Born. What a delight to see you. How goes the feud with the knuckle dragging Gray-Mane Clan then?"

Olfrid growled, "Was I talking to you? No. So shut it."

"So not good, I take it?"

Olfrid slammed his mug to the table. "It's none of your business, you stiff neck! Keep talking to me and you're not going to like what comes next."

Nazeem began to guffaw, "Not much different from your savage rivals, are you? Please. No one would even dare to lay a finger on me. My presence is highly valued in the court of Dragonsreach. With one word, the swarms of Whiterun's guard would have you in the dungeons, you old wretch. Now what was it that would come next? Please, indulge me."

Suddenly the front doors of the Drunken Huntsman swung open, and in walked Mimzi. She made her way straight to the bar counter.

"Where's Nazeem?"

Elrindir startled, "Uh. Well, hello. Haven't seen you before, always nice to see a new face. You're looking for the dignified Redguard sat lonesome over there. Be cautious, he's a crass little braggart."

She made her way to Nazeem's table with a steely glare. When he noticed her approach, she slammed her hands on his table, making its legs rattle. Nazeem flinched into his seat.

"Do you mind?!"

"Not really."

"Might I ask why you are bothering me?"

Mimzi replied, "You have a debt, and you were too stupid to pay it. Now I'm here. So, you'll pay in blood. Work for you? Works for me."

"Excuse me?"

Olfrid didn't intervene but quietly observed.

"Do you even know who I am? I am the owner of Chillfurrow Farm! A most profitable business! I am valued in the court of…"

"I don't care," she interrupted.. "The Companions tell me to come push your face into the floor, I do it."

Nazeem stood abruptly from his chair and began for the front doors. "I don't need to take this from you or anyone! I've worked hard for every septim I have. I don't need to pay anyone! Make way! My presence is required in the Cloud District!"

Nazeem stomped in front of Mimzi- to where she grabbed the scruff of his collar and pulled him back.

"Agh!"

She pushed the stunned man behind her and violently kicked him in the stomach, causing Nazeem to yelp and hunch over. She grabbed the front of his collar and flourished her left elbow into his spine. Then kicked his feet out from under him, where he fell solid to the wood planks.

Olfrid began to loudly cackle, "Hahaha! I didn't have to do anything, Nazeem! This little lady did it for me!"

Elrindir alarmed, "What is happening?!"

Mimzi pressed her knee into Nazeem's back and held him down by securing his wrist behind his head. He wiggled against the floor and ached as he tried to wrestle the young Nord, who had him planted down by her knee, stifling his breath.

Nazeem wailed, "Call the guard! Someone help!! Please!"

Elrindir went out from behind his counter cautiously, scurrying to the front doors.

"Ey, don't bother." Mimzi panted to Elrindir, who halted when she caught his attention. "I'm with the Companions, he owes a debt. I won't kill him unless he gives me a reason to." Mimzi hunched down to Nazeem's ear. "… isn't that right? Now stay down like a good wee lad."

"Agh! Impish little bitch!"

Elrindir stayed to the doors, gawking anxiously while Olfrid sipped contently from his chalice.

Mimzi announced, "Right. You know why I'm here, Nazeem. I'll let you go if you pay your debt, plain and fair. You own a profitable business of Chillburrow Farm or whatever, you can afford it."

"Chillfurrow!!" Nazeem corrected in anger, "Nev- Never! I will not give you a single coin! You'll spend the rest of your days in the dungeons for this!"

Mimzi huffed, closing her eyes in grievance. She then twisted his arm back at the wrist; making it crack loudly at the shoulder. Nazeem yelped in agony, flourishing his legs. She held the arm in that position, only one movement from popping his shoulder bone out.

"You can either pay in gold or pay in broken bones. I'm good with either. Are you?"

Olfrid cheered giddily from his seat, "Go on, lass! Snap it!"

Elrindir gasped, "By the Divines!"

Nazeem cried a spitting blabber, "No! No, please! I'll pay!!"

"Right now? I hope so. Or you going to take me home to your wife?"

"Right! Na-now! Just… Mara's mercy, unhand me! Please!"

Mimzi pushed him off her, making his head violently thunk to the tavern floor again. She tapped her boots onto the hard wood floor and off Nazeem's back. Mimzi went to help him up, where he swiftly slapped her hand away. She only chuckled in response. Nazeem began to shuffle around into his satchel, sniffling and moving achingly. He threw a purse of gold.

"Take your damnable gold." Nazeem scowled, "And tell your client to choke on it!"

Mimzi gleamed a grin as she looked down at the patron's gold and lightly stuffed it into her knapsack.

"It was a pleasure! See you in the Cloud District one of these days."

Nazeem huffed as he limped out the front doors of the inn. Olfrid began to laugh giddily.

"By the Eight, if I was several decades younger and not married, I'd dare say I'm in love! Who are you supposed to be, my dear?"

Mimzi looked back with a proud smile and said, "Who me? I'm Mimzi. I'm a Companion."

---

"There's no way she's a Companion yet…" Skjor glowered to Kodlak as they sauntered along the training yard. Kodlak was admiring the bright blue sky of the 29th morning of Evening Star.

"She hasn't proved herself, at all. Farkas sent her out for a job, and she has yet to return of her progress. She won a fight against Vilkas, big deal. With where his heads been lately, I'm not surprised a whelp thrashed him. She can't go. Farkas can take Njada or Athis, but Mimzi? Forget it. He needs a shield sibling."

Kodlak smiled up at the brisk skies, listening contently to the clanging of the whelps practicing melee combat behind them. "Lots of talk about Vignar losing his bearings in his old age, isn't there, Skjor?"

Skjor raised a brow. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Well, as the Rot continues within my veins, I begin to understand the rewards of getting old and what value my wisdom carries as I waste away."

"You're not old, Kodlak."

"Maybe not for most Nords. But for men like you and I, men with our blood— my life on Nirn has racked up a debt. Now this power becomes a greedy leech. I fear for my hall. I fear for the whelps as they embark on their discoveries. I fear for you, my friend… and for my boys and dear Aela. Time runs faster than only a fraction of the teachings I can give you all."

Skjor's eyes solaced as he tried to mutter a reply, "You have taught us much in your reign as Harbinger. What is there left to teach?"

Kodlak adduced, "The fortune of the burning souls behind us. We all were these eager warriors at one time. Our job is to teach them without crushing their spirit. A girl like Mimzi. Hm— young and fair. Easy to underestimate. Yet shall we let her heart falter because ours are brimmed in our own doubts? Njada and Athis have been on these missions much before in the past. The new girl, Ria; she just went and cleared a bear cave with Vilkas last week. Torvar is always knee deep in a bottle these days. What of Mimzi? We've seen she can fight. This is her chance for her to prove her honour. This shall be her trial."

"I can understand your drive to want to teach these whelps, Kodlak, I share it. But this isn't a bear cave. These are vampires. I feel like it's a mistake."

"Farkas can protect her. Say what you want about the boy but he's a force to be reckoned with. But something tells me he won't have to do much. She's got a spark in her eye. She may surprise you, Skjor."

"Hmph, she'll have to. Right now, just feels like a runaway farm girl trying to be something she isn't."

Farkas came ambling up to them with a jolly grin. "Hey! You found out who'll be coming with me yet? It's been too long since I've crushed the skull of a vamp!"

Kodlak answered, "Mimzi. You'll leave tomorrow morning."

"Oh, really? A bit of a spring chicken. Well, alright. I just hope she doesn't mind guttin' some bloodsuckers."

"Really? You're not the slightest bit worried?" Skjor surprised.

"No not really. Should I be?" asked Farkas.

Skjor groaned aloud, "You really are an Ice-Brain, you know that?"

Vilkas came marching up passed the the three men from Whiterun streets, returning from a job out in the plains. He was drenched in his own sweat and pallor scowled towards the doors.

Kodlak called aloud gladly, "Vilkas! My boy, you look like you've been to Oblivion and back. How was the trek?"

Kodlak beckoned towards Vilkas, who aloofly approached, keeping his distraught gaze distant from their own.

"Vilkas?" Farkas' eyes followed him and shifted into worry. "You alright?"

He shoved his way passed them mumbling in a whip of breath, "Fine."

Vilkas slammed the doors behind him, leaving Skjor, Kodlak and Farkas deeply troubled at the sudden departure.

Skjor grumbled, "He's looking worse every day."

Farkas muttered, "What do we do, Kodlak? I mean— how do we help him?"

"We are here to offer help and support when he needs it, of course. But for now, I think Vilkas just wants to be on his own and deal with it himself, his own way. Give it time, Farkas. Time will help him."

Skjor huffed in a scowl, "I know what he needs, and it ain't time…" This gained a scowl from Kodlak, as well.

"For you, perhaps. Not for Vilkas. You'll do right in preventing yourself from sullying his efforts, Skjor. You and Aela- you both need to stop. If not, leave myself and the boys out of it. Understand?"

"You're not going to piss away this gift, Kodlak. I'll keep my mouth shut out of respect for you, but don't you dare tell me what I can do with it when I'm beyond the gates." He left in pinched shoulders, leaving Farkas and Kodlak alone. Kodlak rested his hand to his shoulder.

Farkas returned a smile. "I don't need it, I can take it or leave it, personally. But Vilkas is in pain. I don't like seeing my brother in pain."

"You won't have to for much longer, son. I may have a plan. I just pray my twilight years grant me the time to figure it out before it's too late."

---

Meanwhile, up in Dragonsreach, the Jarl was beckoned by armed men. They wore thick scaled cuirasses in burgundy and brown. The rarity craftsmanship of crossbows strapped to their backs. The first man approached the court with a steeled scowl. He was Redguard, in his late fifties and had piercing grey eyes. He had a long, black beard and a bald head. His bushy, reaching eyebrows furrowed over his eyes as he approached Balgruuf. This got the volatile attention of his housecarl.

"Who in Azura's Star are you lot? What business do you have before the Jarl?" Irileth drew her weapon a feet from their breath.

"Balgruuf." The Redguard had a voice that was kindred to rumbling, distant thunder. "Call off your guard dog, would you? I'm here to deliver an offer."

"Why are you here, Isran? I have no business with you or any of the Vigilants." Jarl Balgruuf replied cautiously.

"I'm not here with the Vigilants. The Vigilants are dead. You'll want to talk to me before this pearly city of yours is next."

Irileth barked, "Excuse me?! Your threats will land you in the dungeons as you hang by your toes over embers!"

Isran kept his genuine and steely gaze to Balgruuf, who soured at the proclamation.

"Um, what is happening and who are these men?" Proventus asked, "Are they the Vigilants of Stendarr?"

"No." Balgruuf muttered sternly, "They're not. What brings you to my city, Isran?"

Isran approached the throne, stepping passed the armed Dunmer undaunted. "I'm assembling the Dawnguard. Skyrim needs it now more than ever. Whiterun is in danger, Jarl. I fear it to be the next target of a full-scale vampire attack."

Laughter mocked along the court to those who heard it, making him seethe. Irileth rolled her eyes in silence.

"The Dawnguard? Vampires? I haven't seen or heard of any vampires. What does this have to do with Whiterun?" Jarl Balgruuf indulged.

Isran rejoined, "You haven't been paying attention then. The vampires have been skirmishing all over Skyrim, and it's only getting worse. They destroyed the Hall of Vigilants and Carcette, herself. You venture Skyrim at night you run the high risk of being a meal. They are out of control, and that only means one thing, Balgruuf. They are planning something."

Balgruuf sat back in his throne. "Do you have any proof to further this claim?"

"What?" Isran condescendingly remarked, "You want me to drag a vampire in here and get him to tell you myself? Of course I don't, me being here should be enough."

"What is it you want from me and my city?"

"Give me access to your city, for one. I'll need to train your city guard for the attack against the damn vampires. My men and I can help turn this city into a fortress. No fiend gets in, and no fiend gets out. Give me the go ahead and your city will stay protected."

"You mean to say you want me to hand over my forces to you? So you can train them for this 'vampire attack' you can't even prove is going to happen?! You want to scare my people with the threat of war when nothing has been indicated?"

"My lord." Proventus chimed in, "Don't forget the New Life Festival in a few days! The people are excited to celebrate…"

"I'm aware of that, Proventus!" Jarl Balgruuf snapped, "You must be a damn fool to think I'd agree to any of this. We just survived the threat of dragons, and now you want to frighten my people with this nonsense?"

"It's not nonsense."

Irileth spoke with a crass scowl, "Hmph, seems to me he wants a free job as the captain of the guard."

Isran shook his head and growled, "Don't be ridiculous."

The Orc warrior next to him broke in a roar, "You think we came all the way here so we could hold some power over your lazy rabble? Guards sitting on their asses, drinking or lollygagging into the skies. None of them are going to stand a chance against one vampire, let alone a swarm!"

Isran bellowed at his colleague, "Durak! Enough."

Jarl Balgruuf had lost the grace of patience in his voice, "Your Orc claims to know so much of Whiterun, Isran, yet you forget it is the home of the Companions! If this vampire threat is true, the monsters will be eviscerated in moments by my men and Ysgramor's chosen. Do not come here claiming to know of our plight when our walls still stand tall, and our warriors heart's burning! Don't you dare skulk here and insult my men. Get out of my city! Do not return or I'll show you what power my guardsmen hold! Be gone! All of you!"

Isran's lip curled as he stubbornly stayed to the Jarl.

"Now!!" The mighty voice of Jarl Balgruuf echoed through the vast walls of Dragonsreach.

Isran stomped back from the throne with his comrades in tow.

He grunted under his breath, "Damn stubborn fool…"

The third comrade, Celann, raised, "What do we do now, Isran? It's only a matter of time."

"We raised our offer. The Jarl can reject it if he so chooses. I just hope he can back up those words with steel. All we can do is pray for Stendarr's mercy on Whiterun." They made their way out the palace and down to the Wind District. "The faces we see today may be thralls tomorrow."

The steely men paced passed the Gildergreen and Durak questioned, "But what of the vampire's confession? 'The suns' death begins on a hill of white horses.' Jarl Balgruuf should have been informed…"

"Would he have believed it? I ain't wasting my breath when a warning of a vampire attack should be enough."

Durak was struck in the side by a running young Nord on her way to Jorrvaskr.

"Hey! Watch it!"

Mimzi gasped, "Oh, sorry! Whoa… an Orc. I didn't think I'd see one in Whiterun."

"Hmph, most would be wise not to offend one, either."

Mimzi observed, "Pardon. For bumping into you and offending you, for whatever it's worth. Something tells me apologies mean nothing to you, eh."

Durak smirked a response, "True. You want to make it right, think about becoming a vampire slayer with myself and my comrades with the Dawnguard. Our fortress is in the deep southeast corner of the Rift. You'll do fine. You look tough for an itty-bitty Nord."

"Dawnguard? You're a vampire slayer? What brings you to Whiterun?"

"That's right, Dawnguard are vampire slayers- some of the best in Tamriel. If I were you, I'd keep watch of travellers. Watch their eyes, and while you're at it- watch your neck. There's a storm nearin Whiterun, pup. Don't let the bloodsuckers catch you off guard."

The Orc continued down to the Plains District, pursuing his comrades. Mimzi stood by the Gildergreen with a baffled glare; unsure what to make of the interaction. Thinking little of it, she kept on to Jorrvaskr to inform Farkas of her success with Nazeem.

Mimzi proceeded down the hall in the living quarters and took a right to Vilkas and Farkas's bedrooms. Both doors were shut but she pounded eagerly to Farkas's.

"Farkas! I got that job done! I've got his gold for the client!"

Suddenly the doors behind her shot open, slapping against the wall. Mimzi turned abruptly at Vilkas seeping in sweat. His skin as white as Skyrim's ice. He leaned against the door frame in fatigue, but enough energy to muster an off-putting glare.

"Shite. Uh, where's Farkas, you know?"

Vilkas seethed, "Did he answer? No? He's not in his room, you idiot. Now piss off."

Mimzi was taken back, at first registering his hostility in denial. Then she channelled it right back. "What's your problem?"

He made shuddering growl, "My problem? At this very moment, it's you. You're loud, you're ignorant, and think you can walk around here like it's your birthright. You have no place being here. Run back to the barracks, whelp."

"Kodlak is the Harbinger, not you. You may have had me take your sword to Eorland, but you are not the boss of me. And my name is Mimzi."

Vilkas lifted himself from the door frame, stepping over her with clenched fists. Mimzi stood tall in turn. "You wanna hit the ground again, snowback?"

He cautioned a curdling threat, "You have no grasp of what I'm capable of."

She readied herself to defend whatever Vilkas had planned. He towered over her, she was certain any minute he'd swing a fist.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

Aela asked aloud to the two as she stood at the end of the hallway. She stepped forward cautiously. Vilkas and Mimzi noticed her, then Vilkas blew a raging scoff before slamming himself back into his room.

Aela asked to her, "You alright?"

"Sweet." Mimzi replied rattly, "Where's Farkas?"

"The yard," replied Aela before Mimzi walked past her, still seething from the encounter. Aela approached Vilkas's door and knocked gingerly.

He barked from behind the doors, "Leave me be, Aela!" She backed away from the doors then, shaking her head out the hallway.

---

Mimzi approached Farkas on the patio. "Oi! I did the job!"

Farkas looked back and grinned. "Well done! You got his gold?"

"Here you are!" She tossed him the purse of coin.

"Nice work. Here, you keep it." He handed the purse back to her.

"What? Why?"

"Your pay is equal to the clients, so keep it. I'll deal with it."

"Cheers!"

"I hope it wasn't too hard for you."

"Pfft, no chance." Mimzi chuckled, "He was a right milkdrinker, that one."

"Good," said Farkas. "Because you're going on another job with me tomorrow morning."

"Really? What is it?"

"Your trial. Time for you to prove yourself as a true Companion, you ready?"

She said with zeal, "Does a deer piss in the woods?! Of course, I am!" She giggled excitedly, growing one to Farkas.

"That's what I'm talking about! You and me, we're gonna butcher some vampires. You ever been to Morthal?"

Mimzi's joyous smile turned fleeted. "Vampires?"

Farkas nodded, "Oh yeah. They are some of the worst creatures you can face in Skyrim. Don't worry we'll take some disease curing potions with us, just so the little bastards don't make us join the legion of the dead, you know how it goes."

"I've never faced a vampire."

"Don't worry, we'll do great. They never expect threats in their nests. It'll be fun! I love killing vampires. You will, too!"

Mimzi feigned a smile. "Aye! You're damn right!"

Farkas patted her against the arm with an eager grin, while Mimzi walked back inside the hall with a worried jaunt. Dragons were one thing; but vampires were shrouded in ominous mystery. She resented the idea of turning the mission down; worried she'd be seen as a coward and shunned from the Companions as a result. Instead, Mimzi made her way back inside— eager to find a tome on vampires to prepare for her mission.

---

Vilkas writhed in his bed. The pain and fever slowly dwindled as he'd drift in and out of sleep. The heartbeat in his ears began to hush and the colours of his room dimmed. He stayed awake and alert in bed, staring up at the ceiling. A knock thunked at his door.

Vilkas groaned, "Ugh, what does a man have to do to get some peace and quiet, huh?!"

Kodlak's voice muffled behind the doors, "In this hall? Good luck with that."

Hearing his Harbinger's voice, Vilkas got up from bed, wiping away the relinquished sweat off his forehead. Kodlak smiled as Vilkas opened the doors for him to come in, his face still pallor. Vilkas went and thudded onto his bed, cradling his face into his hands. Kodlak rested neatly to his desk chair.

After a moment of silence, Kodlak said, "It reeks in here, you know that?"

Vilkas muttered through his hands, "Yeah, yeah…"

Kodlak stayed silent for a moment before stating, "Aela came to me just a moment ago. She was scared you were going to slash a whelp to shreds."

"Yeah, she was right to be afraid. I'm tired of them walking around the Circle's quarters. That new one, she's asking for it, you know."

"Mimzi. Yes, well, she may be naive, but she deserves respect in this hall, we all do. Perhaps your plight is affecting your judgement."

"You told me we could overcome. I don't see you or Farkas suffering as I do. Why me?"

"You have always been a fiery boy, Vilkas," mentioned Kodlak. "This disease gets worse the longer we ignore it. Eventually, Hircine observes our disregard for his 'gift' and he interferes with our capabilities to resist. I saw your pain today, and I know exactly the threshold it took over you. Yet, you didn't succumb. I can't begin to explain to you how proud that makes me. You are a good man, Vilkas."

Vilkas glowered to the floor and replied, "No, I'm not. I'm broken. There isn't a shred of man left in me, I saw proof of it today."

Kodlak began to lightly chuckle, "You have astounding willpower. You forget these episodes will not last forever. Remember the day you embark to freedom, my boy. We are not defined by our diseases."

"Then what are we defined by?"

"Our deeds," Kodlak assured in a kind tone, "You are a man trailed by great deeds. The people we help, and lives we save- you are defined as a noble Companion. Your deeds will lead to further glory tomorrow morning on your way to Karthwastern."

Vilkas asked, "Karthwastern? What's for me there? I can't do missions right now, master. My mind is clouded. I can't trust myself around others."

"That's why you'll be going with Aela and Skjor, they will keep you on the mission at hand. That town is plagued with conjurers. They are at the mercy of the foul warlocks while they rape their mines. Your mission will be to go and eradicate them before they harm the civilians."

"Aela and Skjor? Those two are the worst kind I can be around right now. They care nothing for our plight. I'd rather go with my brother, honestly."

"Farkas is taking Mimzi for her trial tomorrow. You told me you can't be around others, but Skjor and Aela can't flourish your hunger. In your struggles, I think you need to remember who you are, rather than what you are. You are a good man, remember that."

Kodlak pressed up and left Vilkas's room, leaving the young man to stew to the words. He got changed and grabbed the bucket of vomit he had spewed earlier in the day. He made his way out the back doors of Jorrvaskr and dumped the bucket over the city wall. He set the bucket down and sauntered back inside the hall as the twilight began to set. His jet-black hair was greased and dangled loosely to his face and dark painted circles shadowed his eyes, yet he felt better now than he had felt all day.

Vilkas opened the doors of the living quarters downstairs where he was met with Mimzi, startling at the sight of him again.

She gasped, "Oh!"

Vilkas growled to her, "Watch it." He shoved passed her, but stopped a few feet as he remembered Kodlak's words. He turned back to her as she was opening the door to the main hall. "I wanted to make it clear that I wish no ill will towards you. It was wrong of me to speak to you that way before. So I apologize."

Mimzi stayed silently stunned for a while before replying, "Aye, me too. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot, eh?"

"Just don't loiter around our rooms when you want to find us. Have some respect for our privacy, at least."

He strode back to his quarters. Mimzi stayed a bit taken back by the abrupt amicable exchange with Vilkas and left upstairs for some food. Around the dining table sat the fellow whelps. Ria, Torvar, Njada and Athis all engaged in excited banter as they talked through mouth's of food. Farkas, Aela, Skjor and Kodlak spoke in subtle tones amongst each other amicably. Vignar sat at a far-off table with his caretaker, Brill. Mimzi felt like a horse lost in a herd of elk. She was the outsider that timidly spied for a place to sit on her own, without any of the Companions paying her a second thought. She sat uneasily by herself at the edge of the table, and away from the others as their conversations ensued. Tilma served her without muttering a word, and in the discomfort of her place now, she was put off her meal. She stabbed and dragged her fork through her food.

As she did so, Kodlak strayed his eyes from the conversations to Mimzi sitting lonesome by herself as the other whelps revelled without her. His stare eased into empathy at the young Nord. She was one of the first to leave the table after eating a few bites.

After eating and washing herself clean in the yard, Mimzi went back down to the barracks where she read from her book on vampires. As she read, her shield siblings came barging in from the main hall and into the barracks.

Athis announced, "Well look who it is! Heard you have your trial tomorrow morning. Congratulations."

Ria exclaimed excitedly, "You have your trial?! What is it?"

"Vampires…"

Athis planted himself to his bed, "Vampires? Why in Sheogorath's beard they have you killing vampires your first trial?"

Njada sneered, "Great. First vampire job we get in months and they give it to the dud. Typical."

"Torvar! Did you hear?" Athis called, "Mimzi's going and killing vampires tomorrow."

Torvar sottishly ambled into the room. He slurred, "What? Sorry, I'm too drunk to remember what a vampire is right now. Just give me a minute…." He toppled on his bed while gripping a half-full bottle of mead that lightly spilled as he collapsed into his cot.

Ria pried, "Where are you going tomorrow? Who is your shield sibling?"

"Farkas. He said we were going to Morthal…"

Athis sneered in disgust, "Ugh, Morthal. I hate that dump. Reeks of shite. Vampires love that place, so doesn't surprise me."

Ria added, "Farkas! You're lucky. He's a big softie. He let me kill an ice wraith all by myself, my second trip! His brother on the other hand. He was my shield brother for my trial. He scares me."

"Vilkas… that fetcher," grumbled Athis. "We all get shield siblings on our missions. Aela is good if you don't mind a quick paced hunt with no chatter, Farkas is amicable, but he's got saw dust for brains, and Skjor can be harsh but fair. Vilkas, however, there's nothing more miserable than a day trailing beside Vilkas. He's a miserable grump."

Torvar began to guffaw, "I swear, all he needs is a stiff drink and a woman to bed, he might lighten up a bit."

Njada mocked from her, "Remember when he pinned you down for drinking while training, Torvar? And you cried like a little girl?"

Athis began to chuckle, "Oh, this is good."

"Shut up, Njada!" Torvar barked.

Njada carried on, "Vilkas told you to stop drinking during training hours and you said 'Yes master! I promise I will! Last drink, I swear!'. Well not even a few minutes later, Vilkas notices good ol' Torvar taking a swig from a stashed flask he had under his chest plate. Needless to say, Torvar ate the dust of the yard pretty quick after that. It was hilarious!" Njada cackled, "He's a bastard, sure. But he doesn't take any slack. You lot of laggard milk-drinkers don't get that."

Ria asked in concern, "Has anyone else noticed he's been getting worse? Like even meaner, if that's possible?"

"Of course, now he's so terrible he stays in his room and avoids us. He hasn't even been coming out for training. Maybe because he knows he won't be able to resist killing us if we piss him off…"

Athis jested, "Mimzi thrashed him on the training yard so my bet, she gets killed first."

"Can you all shut it?" Mimzi snapped, making the room turn silent. "Just... shut up. If you can't say these words to his face don't say them at all."

The three huffed and changed the subject to training techniques, while Ria went back to her reading. I'm not a fan of the man, but he had the decency to apologize. Might as well have the same to defend him when he can't do it himself.

She slowly drifted to sleep among the rabble. Mimzi always struggled with nightmares as she'd sleep in the deafening silence of the woods. Surrounded by laughter, chatter and just the presence of others was comfort. She fell asleep faster than she had in months as Torvar and Athis chuckled loudly as they jested and made merry in the late hours of the evening. Maybe too early, but she knew she was going to be put to the test tomorrow and needed her rest. Despite how easy sleep came to her, nightmares were still a recurrent visitor.

She jolted awake to deafening silence in the small hours of the morning. The light breaths of the others resting in the barracks was all that were heard. She closed her eyes in hopes to fall asleep again, but her mind was brimming. She slowly sat up in bed— looking around at her sleeping peers. She kept her movements as stifled as possible trying to stand from her cot. With bare feet, Mimzi pattered out to the hall of the living quarters. She carefully opened the doors to the main hall, trying not to awaken any of the others.

She stole her attention to the doors towards the yard— fixing for some fresh air. The air was stagnant and chilled, and skies a rich indigo. As soon as she stepped out to the patio, she saw a man sitting by the steps whilst gazing up at the stars. Before Mimzi could scurry back inside, Kodlak turned back to her and beamed a warm smile.

"Mimzi… restless dreams, I take it?"

"Aye. Seems that way." Mimzi came over to Kodlak, slowly stepping out of the shadows and into the light from the clear, starry night. She sat down next to him on the steps. He was welcoming to her joining of his company and seemed to appear comforted by it. Mimzi gazed up at the stars along with him and they stayed in silence for a moment.

Mimzi glanced over to the elderly man (whom still stayed his gaze to the night sky). "Why are you out here?"

Kodlak smiled to himself. "Being outside on a still night such as this clears a troubled mind. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, that's actually why I came out."

"I figured as much." Kodlak observed soft-spoken, "What troubles you?"

"Hah… where to start..."

"Wherever you want."

"Just reliving my worst moments again… nothing new there. When it's quiet I find it hard to sleep."

"I struggle from the same burden, all haunted warriors do. The misery of our pasts will always endure despite the good memories we make. When I first saw you, I knew we had this in common."

"What haunts you?"

"If I told you my haunts, would you tell me yours?"

"Right. You're the Harbinger, though. A man with a traumatic past, how did you end up here?"

"Well I'm sure like you, and like most of our band, I found this family after losing my own. Believe it or not, you're not alone in your trauma here. Especially within the Circle, we all share demons. I've had the heart for battle since I was a boy. Grew up within these colliding mountains. Were a bodyguard for some of my youth, serving some weak-necked lord in Hammerfell. I was found by our latest predecessor, and he brought me back here, he brought me home. Now I serve to honour my parents, my forebears and all the shield-siblings who once walked these very halls. To be a Companion, family and honour are all that is needed from us."

"This… is a family?"

"Yes, my dear, we are a family. You don't see it yet, but the more time you spend here the more you'll understand. This band is an oath that lasts a lifetime. The bonds you make here will heal that troubled heart of yours."

"Doesn't seem likely… I don't know the first thing about family."

"You will come to soon. When you came to us, I didn't just see an orphan, I saw a woman with a fire in her eyes. There are many comforts of family here."

"How did you know I'm an orphan?"

"It's hard to explain… I just knew. You'll come to learn you share this with all of us. Skjor's family were wicked cowards. Aela's parents passed when she came of age, and the twins were orphans from the day they were born. Except none of us are, anymore. An orphan is one without family, but we have found that among each other. We all share an inseparable bond. Much like the warriors who sailed the Jorrvaskr along the White River and discovered the Skyforge and this bountiful land. They turned it into a home for themselves. This home that would later house generations of valiant fighters. They set sail to find home, and they did. Much like all of us— including you. You'll come to accept this in time, but you are now an orphan with a home, and can leave that branding behind you."

Mimzi's eyes softened and asked, "I thought I wasn't a Companion, yet?"

"The rest of the Circle say that, they are cold to most newcomers, and you'll have to prove yourself to them. But I know you have what it takes. The matter remains if you will accept that call of family or shrink at the commitment of honing it. A lone wolf can't survive in the wild, little one, we all need a pack. And you've found one."

Mimzi looked up to Kodlak with and curved a shaky smile. She didn't respond, but a comforting feeling said enough. An hour of idle chatter went by between the two. They departed and went back to their quarters to sleep at the worry of dawn soon approaching. After her solace with Kodlak, Mimzi fell back to sleep swiftly. When she did drift, no nightmares crept back to haunt her. Mimzi slept soundly in the knowledge she may have found what her heart yearned for more than anything. Something she thought she had found time and time again but only ripped away from her in the end. This time in Jorrvaskr's hall felt different. She comforted in the thought she may have finally found 'home'.

In the next few hours, violent clanging rang loudly through the hall startling Mimzi, Ria, Torvar, Athis and Njada out of sleep and up in bed. Torvar startled and spooked so ruggedly he flopped his behind on the floor.

Skjor was peddling a cast iron pot with a ladle. "Mooooorning!!! Rise and shine whelps!! Up and at em!"

Ria covered her ears. "What time is it?!"

Skjor stopped pedalling his pot. "Before dawn. Mimzi get your ass up and ready for your trial, Farkas is waiting. The rest of you— breakfast than training. The Circle will be gone today so you lot better be on top of your game and leave Kodlak alone while he's in his study, you get me?"

Mimzi went scurrying out of bed with unkempt, red curly hair and sleepy eyes. She grabbed at her belongings and quickly equipped her armour, boots and gauntlets.

Torvar blathered as he pried his rump off the floor. "Where you all going? Who's gonna train us?"

Skjor groaned back at him, "Torvar… you mean to tell me after all this time you've been here, you don't know what moves you'd like to see yourself improve? Shut up."

Athis asked again, "Where are you going?"

Skjor explained, "Aela, Vilkas and myself are heading to The Reach, we've got a job; warlocks in question keeping a mining town hostage. Farkas is taking the newest whelp on her trial, as I'm sure you knew. I expect the four of you to keep up with training while we are gone. If a job comes in, leave it with Kodlak till we get back and can distribute it. Clean up after yourselves! Tilma doesn't need a workload increase because you lot think you can run the place into the ground with us gone. Above all, don't make me regret trusting you rabble. Understand?"

Mimzi belted out the door passed Skjor while Athis, Torvar, Njada and Ria said in unison, "Yes, sir!"

At the dining table was Aela, Farkas and Vilkas eating breakfast. Through the windows it was still dark and dim, the hint of light from the sun had not yet sprouted off the hills. It looked to be five in the morning at the latest.

Farkas asked to his twin brother, "Anything else I should be ready for?"

"They use a spell, I don't know what it's called, but it can drain the life from you slowly. It can give you the virus just as a scratch or bite can, Sanguinare Vampiris. Your shield can help to deflect it. Don't let the whelp get infected."

Aela chimed in, "Vampires are lords of the darkness. Never expect safety in the shadows in Movarth's Lair, always be ready."

Mimzi walked up to the trio armed and equipped in her beryl leather armour.

Farkas stated to her in a grisly tone, "I hope you've readied yourself."

"I'm ready. When do we head out?"

Farkas stood up from his chair, equipped his bag and gulped down the remaining of his mead. "Now." He turned to his brother and patted him on the shoulder, "I'll see you when I get back, brother."

"Gods be with you, Farkas." Vilkas slanted a smile, and gripped his hand back.

Aela made a warm smile and said, "Make it home safe, Ice-Brain." She patted his arm then looked to Mimzi. "You listen to everything Farkas says and don't leave him behind."

Mimzi replied, "Understood."

The streets of Whiterun were empty and quiet. Only guards sauntered through the streets and passed them as the two made their way to the front gates out the city. Mimzi followed Farkas closely out the doors.

Farkas broke the silence and asked, "You've got a horse? You don't, you can ride with me."

Mimzi replied, "No, I've got one. So, we're riding then?"

"Of course, it's the 30th today. I'm not missing the New Life Festival. It's been years since we've even celebrated in Whiterun. Let's just get this over with, huh? Quick, easy, dirty and fun. All my favourite things."

They made it to the stables where Farkas mounted his stallion, and Mimzi got Sunshine ready with her saddle before. They rode off into the plains of Whiterun on their way to Hjaalmarch. Soon after, Skjor, Aela and Vilkas made their way to the stables and got their horses ready.

While Vilkas equipped his saddle to his midnight black stallion, Aela grumbled, "Feels like a waste with these horses. Knowing we could get there a lot faster without them."

Vilkas furrowed his brows as Skjor scornfully claimed, "You know we can't, Aela. The old man wouldn't like it. Why'd you think he sent Vilkas?"

Aela groaned, "Skjor…"

Skjor continued, "Can't hone our gift when we have pa's little boy ready to sell us out, all because he's too brainwashed to see its potential."

Aela groaned loudly and Vilkas broke his begrudging silence. "Shut it. I'm not listening to your preaching again. You do what you want if you need to. All that matters is the job gets done, remember?"

Skjor mounted his horse. "The sooner you give in, the better you'll feel. There is nothing shameful about what we are, Vilkas. It doesn't make you any less of a Nord."

Aela intervened between the two hot-headed men. "Skjor, can we stop with this? He gets it, but he's following the old man's teaching. Let him hold his decision in peace."

"What kind of teaching prohibits the following of true prowess?"

"It's a curse." Vilkas remained hateful and rode his horse ahead of the two. "Plain and simple."

He then rode ahead far enough to avoid their chatter. Skjor growled, "This new teaching of Kodlak's is the true curse. It's dividing us. Vilkas won't admit it, but if he doesn't give in to the calling of his blood, he'll die, or he'll lash out and hurt an innocent. Honestly don't know what's worse."

Aela replied as they rode their horses through the plains, "It's not our place, Skjor. Just drop it and try not to air it for Vilkas."

"I miss the days we'd go out and hunt in the plains at night, all five of us. Back when we were all on the same page, remember? Now all this talk of Sovngarde and Ysgramor, and what makes a true Nord- suddenly we're not a family anymore. We're no different than those Gray-Mane and Battle-Borns."

"Eventually things work themselves out. Just give it time, Skjor. They'll realize the thrill of the hunt is all they need."

---

Mimzi and Farkas had ridden their horses through the early morning, where high noon was creeping over the harbouring clouds that blanketed Hjaalmarch. The weather gloomed and fog lifted over the marshes. They slowed their pace as they approached the confines of the swampy muskeg.

Mimzi shuddered as they reached their location, "…Is this it?"

Farkas nodded stoically, "This is it. Let's do this."

As Mimzi went to tie her horse's reins to a nearby tree, Farkas refuted, "Don't do that. If they are discovered by bloodsuckers, they should at least have the chance to escape, right?"

"Right. Sorry."

Sunshine and Farkas's horse were half a league away from the cave where the two continued their trek on foot to Movarth's Lair. They entered cautiously into the lair where stained blood was a foreboding greeting.

As she breathed in the musk of death, she uttered, "Blood is fresh…" Farkas warily looked down at the refuge of remains with a glare.

"Something's been here recently, let's tread lightly."

The two crept inside to a cave system with a tunnel leading to a lit chamber and a wooden platform overhead. They stepped over top the platform which reclined down log steps to the bottom of the system. Thick layers of spider webbing sprawled down against the stone walls. Cluttering and rasping against the webbing was heard and figures began to emerge. Mimzi drew Dragonbane as Farkas drew his greatsword.

Mimzi screamed out as she saw three frostbite spiders from the ceiling, "Look out!"

Farkas's eyes went aghast as he gawked in horror at their chomping pinchers and scraggly legs. Two more spiders crawled from their nesting in the webs on ground level. Mimzi swiped her sword at the front legs of the first that approached, severing them off. Mimzi protruded her blade in the top of the spider head.

Farkas shuddered and barked, "Three more!"

One spider lunged at his feet, stumbling him to his backside. It tried to bite through his thick steel but was only kicked back with brunt. He threw his sword like a spear, and it sliced through the spiders abdomen. He shot up and finished it off by planting his boot into its head, which convulsed thick gray blood up to his knee.

Mimzi swooped a spider that collided with a egg sack and broke the fibres of the nest. Offspring the size of mice and sprawled out in a wave.

Mimzi shrilled aloud and Farkas's face went white. He stared on in horror and slowly backed up against the wall. Mimzi began stomping her feet over them madly. They tried to crawl onto her legs and frantically kicked them off. Farkas was too mortified to move, and as the swarm began to flood his feet, he could feel the sharp pinch of their teeth dig into his skin.

Mimzi growled, "To Oblivion with this!" She shot her hand up and flames threw from her fingertips, sending the swarm of spiders alight. Farkas kicked the remaining spiders over his armour into the flames. Mimzi swept off the teaming spiders that crawled to her arms and in her hair. She shook chillingly at the disgust and continued throwing flames at the few stragglers that scuttled along the cave floor. Mimzi ran to Farkas who is direly pallor. His knees up to his chest as he gawked at the fire.

Mimzi called out, "Farkas! You right? Hey!"

His black painted eyes stared into the flames. Mimzi gave him a shake. "Farkas!"

He startled, "What?"

She asked, "Are you right?"

Farkas stayed quiet, he gulped with effort and twitched at the fright of another spider on him, but nothing was there.

"I… I don't like those things." Farkas croaked in a deflated voice.

"Me neither, you going to be okay? Here, let me help you up." She gripped his hand as he pushed up from the floor.

He said again, "I really don't like those things."

She shrugged, "I mean who could? Scunnered wee bastards, eh? Let's just move on. It stinks like cooked spider in here."

"Vampires love having frostbite spiders around. Don't ask me why. I should have known we'd have to tangle with them."

"Looked like ya nearly pissed yourself."

He wearily chuckled, "Everyone has their weakness, right? I don't like spiders. Not even the normal sized ones. But those babies all over the place, that was a little too much for me. Just needed to catch my bearings. You being here help. By the way, that was pretty neat with those flames. But I wouldn't do that again around the others. We kind of have a strict 'no magic, no sneaking' motto. Companions use traditional fighting, it's the right way for us."

"Oh, I only know that one, and I don't know it well. So don't worry, that'll be the last time."

They treaded deeper into the caves, fighting through a couple lowly vampire thralls and skeevers. They entered an empty chamber lit dimly, almost engulfed in darkness. To its centre was a lengthy dining table smothered in blood and bone remains. The chairs along the table were empty.

They shuffled into the darkness with their weapons drawn. Mimzi hushed to Farkas, "Where are they?"

Farkas hushed back, "Shh. They're here."

"How do you know?"

Farkas looked along the darkness, his hands tightening to his hilt. "I can smell them."

Mimzi suddenly shrieked as a metal clang crunched her ankle. Mimzi collapsed to the ground and ached. She pried at her ankle that was carved into a bear trap chained into the ground. Farkas bolted to her and tried to release the mechanism, but the shrouded darkness blinded a fair grasp. Footsteps began to echo closer and heavy breathing alarmed the pair. Farkas shot up from Mimzi, to eyes glowing red among the shadows. Like live coals in a furnace, but their quality cold. A croaky, deep voice emerged from the shadows.

"What a delightful surprise. We were just starting to get hungry…"

His nose was layered in thick wrinkles and lines off his mouth as he beamed a malicious grin— beckoning his sharp fangs. Seven more figures came forth, all vampires adorned in black clad. Their lips were stained in old blood and their skin pale.

Mimzi's leg burned like fire as she snatched at her ankle. She chilled at the sight of eight vampires surrounding them.

"What's wrong, young man? Are you from Morthal? Did a sister go missing? A lover, perhaps?" The fiend seemed to be the leader of their nest.

Farkas said back, "You're Movarth."

Movarth laughed, "You have it right. Now tell me, what brings you? I like to know where my meals come from."

One of the female vampires spoke up, her nose wrinkled at Farkas, "Ugh, what is that smell? He reeks! The little Nord girl smells much better."

"Oh, yes." Movarth said, "She smells incredible. Succulent."

Mimzi shivered at the famished, red eyes gawking at her. Farkas backed up to shield her.

"We're from Whiterun. You have a bounty over your head, Movarth. You've been so busy, it reached the Companions. Guess you'll have to pay for your sloppiness."

"The Companions! Of course! Some say you lot are nearly indestructible. Your Skyforge steel cuts through your enemies like butter. Yet, the tide turns here. We will feed on your riddled bodies and your Skyforge steel will be ours for the keeping! And then soon— all of Skyrim!"

Farkas chucked his blade to their feet, startling them. Mimzi snapped, "What are you doing?!"

Farkas grumbled to Movarth, "Take it. It's not going to save you."

The vampires scattered in laughter. Farkas then turned his head back to Mimzi. "Don't freak out, okay?" He turned his back to her as he slowly approached their breath.

Mimzi squawked, "Freak out?! What? What are you doing?! Farkas!"

He clenched his fists as his eyes began to glow white. His teeth edged in sharp fangs and a roar thundered from his maw. Mimzi stared on in horror as Farkas's armour was ripped off, revealing growths of black hair and muscles. Slowly his skin turned mud brown. His head shifted into a muzzle with large talons for teeth, and pointed ears curled up over his head. He grew eight feet tall, taking the likeness of a monstrous, hulking wolf. He roared at the vampires that sullied into fear at the sound. Movarth cowered behind his underlings.

"He's… he's a werewolf!!"

Farkas lunged forward creating a rapid of spraying blood. The screams of the vampire populace were blaring off the stone- it could surely be heard above ground. Mimzi froze in shock at the sheer strength of Farkas in his current form. She gripped both sides of the bear trap and peeled it back on with as much strength as she could muster. She clenched her teeth and screamed in pain as she pried her leg out from the trap.

He ripped necks clear off their shoulders. Slashed their skin so deep they didn't have the might to stand back up. Magic merely flecked off Farkas's sinew, only enraging the black, burly beast far more. When vampires would try to flee, it was a thrill for the werewolf. Just like a dog chasing squirrels, he pursued them in a blink of an eyelid. The sharp whip of a yelp ended gutturally when he caught up to them.

Movarth cowered to a dark corner of the cave, hunched down to the floor. Farkas sniffed him out and stood on his hind legs, snarling with generous blood dripping from his fangs. Movarth whimpered as he rattled his arms up to his face and hollered a blood-curdling shrill. He ravaged his claws into Movarth's gullet, where his ear-splitting screams turned to gurgles then nothing. Mimzi crawled away from the bear trap. She could not withstand the pain within her ankle to get up.

Farkas's animal breathing ceased within the shadows. Footsteps came into the light bringing a body.

"Farkas…?" She asked weakly.

His husky voice was heard, "I hope I didn't scare ya." He seemingly reverted to his human form.

Mimzi breathed out, "Scare me? That's what you're worried about?! How did you— AH!!"

She snatched at her eyes in a startle. Farkas beckoned in the light, he went baffled at Mimzi.

"What's wrong? Why you covering your— oh."

Farkas looked down to his nude body and chuckled lightly, "I forgot. Let me find some clothes, I'll be right back."

"Good idea." Mimzi winced through hands.

Farkas shuffled among the drawers and cupboards in the vampire's main hall. He grabbed out some greased mining clothes and put them on. He grabbed a chair and ripped the wooden leg off, then shredded a piece of his mining tunic and wrapped it over the top of the leg. He let it take light on a looming candle, providing him a torch.

Farkas approached Mimzi. "Alright, you can open your eyes. Let's take a look at that ankle." He knelt down to her level.

"Hmm. One second." He got up and shuffled around the fallen bodies. He grabbed for his bag which had a broken strap from his transformation. He picked a potion from his bag and ambled over to Mimzi, kneeling down again.

"Drink this." He insisted as he gave her the red bottle.

She gulped it down quickly. Farkas ripped another piece from his shirt by the sleeve. She cried lightly as he began to wrap it.

Farkas said sympathetically, "I'm sorry, I know it hurts."

Mimzi pressed her lips and closed her eyes; trying to breathe through the pain. He tied a secured knot over the wrapping and helped Mimzi up gently off the floor.

He asked to her, "You able to walk?"

"I don't know." She breathed, "… not well."

"Okay." He then turned his back to her and knelt down, facing away from the confused Nord. He set his lit torch down.

"What are you doing?"

"Get on my back." Farkas instructed, "I don't have all day to watch you hop around. No offence."

"Uhh… I don't know."

"Hurry up."

Mimzi limped to Farkas's back. He pulled up suddenly, startling her as she lifted off the ground. He wrapped his hands to the back of her thighs and pulled them up against the sides of his waist.

Farkas couldn't help but impulsively ask as they trudged up the incline, "You're so light. Do you have any muscle or fat on you?"

"Of course, I do! I've got muscle. Lots of muscle! Ow!" She winced as her ankle bopped against his hips.

"Alright, settle down…"

---

"Dismount your horses."

Skjor alarmed to rising smoke coming up the plateau from Karthwastern. Soon carried a harrowed scream up the hike.

Vilkas ran off in a sprint. "Damn it!"

They reached the town to find it was a rage in flame. A few villagers went scurrying towards the Companions out the town.

"Help us! Please! Please! They summoned monsters! They are burning everything!"

Skjor ordered to the civilians, "Stay here!"

Vilkas drew his greatsword and Aela her bow. Skjor continued to the townsfolk, "How many are there?"

An Orc woman pled, "Four! A woman and three men! I don't know how many creatures they conjured but, please! Our people are still in there!"

Vilkas and Aela ran ahead into the burning town. The pathways were littered in mutilated guardsmen and mercenaries. A Breton man came running out behind a building where he was struck with a lightning bolt, stunning him to the ground. A conjurer walked up behind him. Aela released her arrow that struck the conjurer through the ear. The Breton man shot up.

"Go! Now! The Breton startled and went flurrying out of town with the other survivors.

Skjor raced into a kindling home and came out with two townspeople. A man hacking from the smoke and covered in debris, and an unconscious Wood Elf woman onto Skjor's shoulder. A conjurer came out after Skjor, to where Vilkas flourished his sword into her back.

Skjor commended to Vilkas, "Good job! There's two more! Find survivors and gut the warlocks!"

Vilkas noticed a Nord man running from the flaming mines adjacent to town. Behind the man was a conjurer throwing lightning bolts out his finger tips to the running Nord. The lightning bolts flecked off the ground, missing the Nord by mere inches. Vilkas sheathed his sword and pulled out his hunting bow. He gripped the handle of the bow and spaced his legs. He slowly breathed, then inhaled and held it. He moved his bow a few inches following the conjurer, pulled in tighter, released his breath then the arrow. It flew straight into the conjurer's eye; throwing his head and body to ground. The man sped passed Vilkas and to the crowd of survivors.

Vilkas yelled to Aela, "One left!"

The three coughed at building smoke as the fires raged the infrastructure. A conjurer emerged from the smoke and summoned a spell. A portal to Oblivion allowing through a Flame Atronach. It hovered over the ground throwing fire bolts at the Companions, who quickly dodged and ran from the shots of fire. Aela ran back with her bow drawn, shooting arrows at the daedra. The conjurer caught notice of her, but before he could unleash a spell from his hands again, he was shot to the heart by Aela's arrow. She rolled over the ground and shot the arrows with speed and precision, teasing the atronach of her position.

However, the atronach's sights were set on Vilkas, who thrashed his sword against the embers of the fast, agile daedra. The swipes of the blade did not seem to wither the monster. Aela's arrow flew into the chest causing it to collapse to the floor in swirls of flame.

Aela shrieked at Vilkas, running towards him, "GET AWAY! Get away from it! NOW!!"

Vilkas ran the opposite direction of the monster, throwing himself away from the explosion that imploded from the remains of the atronach. Skjor came bolting up to his comrades and held a stunned look at the blast of fire. Vilkas said out of breath, "They explode?"

"Yes." Aela said to Vilkas, "They explode. Their weak spot is water or ice, but a strike in the chest always works, too."

"Damn daedra…" Skjor growled, "That should be all the survivors. The conjurers are dead. I don't know what we can do for their town now. But at least we've given them their tools to rebuild."

Vilkas protested, "So we're just supposed to let their homes burn to the ground? Save them and abandon them? Where will they go?"

"To Markarth, or any other of the settlements in Skyrim. We've done all we can now. Could have done a whole lot more if we were able to harness our gift. But hey, Kodlak insisted you come along."

Aela groaned, "Oh, not this again."

Vilkas stepped forward to Skjor. "You want to do this right now?"

Skjor stepped to him and maintained, "Oh I do. There were three villagers who died in this invasion. We could have been here a lot sooner had we used our wolf to get here. Aela and I were going to leave last night, but Kodlak and all his wise judgement deemed we bring you. The spy."

Aela barked, "Skjor!"

Vilkas pushed him back and raged, "Aye, that's always your solution! When in doubt, wolf-out, right? You don't hone your gift, you survive on it. You depend on it! I used to think you were invincible. Well, turns out the indestructible Skjor is a Daedra Prince's bitch!"

Skjor snatched Vilkas by the collar of his armour then.

Aela shouted, "Enough! Both of you!"

Skjor bellowed at Vilkas with his eyes wide in fury, "What did you just say to me?!"

Vilkas kept his lips shut and a disgusted scowl. A brunt of Skjor's rage Vilkas had never seen before, not for himself. Even then, he dared a glare, undaunted to whatever came next. Suddenly the ripples of shrieks came bolting towards them. The three gawked to see the Wood Elf woman who had come to and was now bellowing in horror towards the home burning behind them. She was quickly followed by the Breton and Orc woman.

"Myriel! No!" The Breton woman screamed, trying to clutch at her arms.

Skjor went racing at the crying woman, snatching her from the entrance.

"NO! Let me go!" The woman begged and sobbed, "My baby! She's still in there! Please! Please, my baby!!"

Vilkas looked to the burning home, he made a determined glare and bolted towards it— without hesitation.

Aela yelped, "Vilkas! No!"

Skjor chased after him but he lunged behind the fires, keeping Skjor at bay. "VILKAS!"

"Save my baby!" The Wood Elf woman shrilled to Vilkas as he plunged inside the home, "Please! Mara's mercy! Save my child!"

Vilkas was surrounded in the raising, arid heat. The stairs to the upper level of the house came crumbling down. He could hear faint cries from within the second floor. He leapt up and snatched the ledge of the floor- crawling over it, while being lightly singed by flames. He gritted his teeth and pursued the cries. Vilkas became disoriented within the flames. The smoke in his lungs numbed his senses. He gripped the inside of his elbow over his mouth and pressed on through the next room. The floor beneath his feet began to creak and echo- fixing to collapse. He made haste as he kicked the door down to the room. It went flying into flames, feeding the blazes. The cries became louder. Vilkas jumped into the room. There was a wardrobe— untouched by fire but soon to be engulfed by it to the side of the room. Vilkas ran to the door of the wardrobe and swung it open. A small elf child, no older than a few years, cradled into the side of the wardrobe. Her large dark brown eyes were bubbling in tears at the sight of the Nord man coated in ash, and the throwing fires that engulfed her home. He swept the child into his arms and grabbed a dress from the closet. He threw it over the child's head which he kept to his shoulder.

Vilkas went the way he came in, only to find it blocked completely with flames. The little girl continued to wail into his shoulder as the roof began to cave in on them. He panicked and aimlessly looked around for another escape route. He felt like his skin boiling under his armour. Vilkas then noticed the faint frame of a window across the room but starting to fill in flames. Vilkas bolted to the window and crashed through the glass back first, with the child wrapped into his arms.

The onlookers from outside watched in horror. Aela and Skjor waited with bated breath to the building. Suddenly, the building began to cave. Wood shifted into rubble and the four walls fell into the home itself. The destruction left behind only the pillars. Aela and Skjor gasped as their hearts fell to their stomachs.

"Vilkas!!"

Aela's green eyes wilted at the destruction. Nothing could quell the shrills of the Wood Elf woman who now writhed on Karthwastern's floor. Then Aela could see a figure from the pillowing clouds of smoke. The figure revealed an ash painted Vilkas, with a child safely in his arms. His face was red and dirty, and his armour black from the flames. Aela and Skjor breathed in relief.

The Wood Elf gasped aloud, her eyes as big as the two moons. She bolted to the arms that kept her child. Tears streamed from her face as Vilkas handed the child back to her mother.

The little girl squeaked, "Mama?"

The woman wailed as she fell to the ground with her daughter's arms wrapped along her neck. "Oh, my baby! Mama is here! Gods! My baby, you're okay!!" She looked up to Vilkas with a gratefully relieved smile as tears streamed from her eyes. She snatched his hand. "Mara's mercy! Bless you, Companion! Thank you! Oh, bless you!"

Vilkas made a small smile on his dour face. He gripped her hand back for just a moment and left her. Aela smirked, "Cutting it pretty close, don't you think?"

Vilkas's eyes went steely then. "You two can think whatever you want of me. I'm done arguing with you. My blood is my own and I don't need the boons of beastblood to be a Companion."

Skjor was just happy to see he survived. "Vilkas, I'm not trying to…"

"Enough." Vilkas interrupted, "You've made your point, so I get to make mine. I'm not a puppet. I'm not yours and I'm not Kodlak's. I choose not to give in to my beastblood because it's what I want. That choice doesn't make me a fool, it makes me a Nord. It makes me a true Companion."

Aela remarked, "We honour Kodlak's teachings, Vilkas. This isn't about him, despite what Skjor says."

"You think it's Kodlak's teaching? It's Ysgramor's. You shame me because I choose to remember his legacy. Don't you dare shame me for my stance on the blood. I fight to be clean! I won't let this curse consume me, no matter how it suits you." He turned his back to them and made his way out the scorching town.

"Vilkas!" Skjor called. Aela grabbed his arm.

"Let him be."

---

Farkas carried Mimzi out the cave of the vampire lair, waddling through the thick marsh and fog.

"How you doing?" He asked to Mimzi, who clung to his shoulders.

She breathed out hoarsely, "Just great…"

He breathed shallowly, "Son of a bitch…"

Mimzi looked up and shivered at the sight of the figures approaching them. Farkas halted and pushed Mimzi up his back. He alarmed to her, "Might have to drop you here."

The figures revealed men in burgundy red armour and crossbows at the ready. Mimzi recognized the armour and one of the armed Orc men from Whiterun's streets.

A Redguard man growled as he drew his crossbow at the pair, "Explain yourselves. Now."

Farkas stammered at the mortal faces with their weapons drawn. Mimzi hushed from his shoulder, "Dawnguard."

Isran cackled menacingly, "Ha. Nice try. If you were Dawnguard you'd be in our armour, wouldn't you?"

"Wow, wait a minute… it's you." Durak stated to Mimzi as he eased his bow, "You're the one from Whiterun— heading to Jorrvaskr."

Farkas chimed in, "We're Companions. Who are you?"

Isran eased his bow and signalled for the others to do the same. "Vampire slayers. Dawnguard. This lair was one of their hubs of operation. We got here just in time to find the bodies ripped into shreds. Looked like a bear attack…"

Farkas scoffed, "I take that as a compliment. I'm Farkas, we were sent here by Morthal. My whelp here didn't fare too well, but we got em all. Easy day for you, huh?"

Isran pondered and asked suspiciously, "You killed all those vamps… by yourself?"

Farkas chuckled, "Me? Oh, no. You're looking at two Companions here. My whelp got injured in the scuffle. Isn't that right, Mimzi?"

Mimzi played along. "Oh yeah! Stepped in a bear trap… rookie mistake."

"But I got it taken care of. Movarth and his lackeys won't be preying on Morthal anymore."

Isran explained, "It was Movarth's intention to turn the town into cattle for feeding, but he wasn't working on his own merit. He's taking orders from somewhere up the bloodsucker chain of command. You two wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Farkas shook his head and remarked, "No, sir. We were just here to do a job, but feel free to scour around their lair for answers. We just butchered and got out. Made it nice and quiet for you."

Isran glared suspiciously at the two for a few moments. The pair's anxiety flourished as Isran's steely gaze was never ending.

"Hmm." Isran rumbled in his throat, "Not every day an entire vampire nest is wiped out by the likes of two."

Farkas nodded, hiding his nerves to the best he could. Isran stayed his glare before he set his crossbow to rest at his side.

"Nice work. Thanks for the hand. I hope you made them suffer."

Farkas affirmed, "They bled like stuck pigs. We oughta get back. Be safe out there."

He saluted and passed the armed vampire slayers, whom cautiously watched the two as they approached their horses. Farkas's heart thudded in his chest. He let Mimzi off his back.

He hushed, "You able to ride your horse?"

Mimzi breathed, "Aye."

Farkas helped Mimzi onto Sunshine. She ached and thudded on the saddle, breathing deeply through her nose.

"That was too close…" Farkas's voice shook, "Now let's get out of here before they notice my armour in there."

"They kill vampires…" Mimzi claimed, "I think you're safe. They should be grateful."

He warned with a jittery tone, "Anyone who hates vampires, hates werewolves. Vigilant of Stendarr taught me that. Let's not wait around to find out."

Farkas thrashed the reins of his horse as Mimzi did the same. The two sped on horseback through the marshes on their way back to Whiterun's plains.

"So what happens now?" She bellowed from her horse to Farkas, "You're a werewolf, so what? To make me a Companion, I have to be one, too? There's no chance I'm agreeing to that."

Farkas yelled, "What?! No. Only the Circle have beast blood. Myself, my brother, Aela, Skjor and Kodlak. You're one of the few people who know our secret. Not even the other whelps know! So, it's pretty important you keep it to yourself, understand?"

Mimzi's brows furrowed and nodded, contemplating the moral good of the band she was joining.

He added, "You can talk to Kodlak about it after your initiation."

Mimzi asked intently, "Initiation?"

Farkas beamed a large grin as his black hair threw in the wind. "Your ceremony! Didn't you hear me back there? You're one of us now. Welcome to the Companions, shield-sister!"