After dinner was served, I sit with Tilma, planning this next week's menu for the companions. Ria has a birthday on Fredas, so we'll have to make a trip to the market to get ingredients for sweets, our gift to her. Tilma soon finishes her meal, so I set the papers aside to help clear away her dishes so she can continue to rest, her old bones always ache more during the colder months, today particularly with, hopefully, the season's last snow storm before the spring months turn warmer. Back home, the spring storms brought rain rather than frost.

I go back and finish the remains of my own meal before I retire to my work room, I really should start preparing healing kits to gift to the temple, I noticed while preparing dinner how I was having trouble concentrating handling the raw meats, how the blood would seep around the fresher kills from Aela's hunting trips… gods, why did it have to make my mouth water like some wild beast. I quicken my step, my hand going to my prayer beads I keep on me at all times. I had hoped it would take longer for the bloodlust to appear, perhaps more meditating will help?

Once entering my workspace, I begin gathering small satchels and healing supplies to fill them. Bandages, thread, needles, and everything else needed in an emergency if proper healing can't be reached right away. I control my breathing, focusing on slow inhales and exhales as I work, calming my nerves from my earlier thoughts and worries, allowing myself to fully concentrate on my task.

After awhile, I hear a knock, I pause and glance at all the completed healing bundles, before I answer the door. Surprise etches on my face as I greet Aela, a warm smile following, before vanishing as I freeze at her words.

Gods, how have I lost track of the time? Secunda will be full tomorrow night. Oh divines preserve me, it'll be the first time one of the moons will be full since I left the temple in Bruma. I won't be locked away beneath the temple in my room, safe from harming the innocents… Oblivion take this damned curse!

"Priestess? Is that a no?" Aela's voice breaks me out of my thoughts of worry momentarily, my brows furrow as I register the confused expression she wears.

"S-sorry, join you for a full moon's hunt? I'm not sure I understand what you're meaning, you do know I'm unable to-"

"Skjor told me you can't control it yet, aye, doesn't mean you can't join me. It'll be good for you, trust me, you've never been out for a run or anything have you? Always caged up in that temple of yours in Cyrodiil." She crosses her arms as she begins to turn away, "I'll know your answer if you show up in the underforge tomorrow at dusk, Skjor is joining me either way, in case you're worried about control, he's always managed you on his own easy enough, eh?" She grins as she walks away from my work room, leaving me alone with more worrying thoughts of what's to come.

Good for me? Nothing about this damnable curse is good for me. I take off my apron and hang it up next to my alchemy station, I need to find more answers in that beast book Skjor gave me. Maybe it'll tell me more about the moon phases and how it'll affect the curse. I'm unsure if there even is a difference, my family never saw me in that retched form, we never took the risk of anyone going near my chamber during the changes. My room back home had long been stripped of personal belongings that managed to survive the first change, only thing being left a bed that would be replaced with a bedroll before I'd be transformed into the monster attached to my soul.

I enter my room and kneel down by my bed, moving aside my personal trunk to grab the book hidden behind it. Blood of the Circle. I still don't understand why a noble group of warriors would turn to something so vile. It's an affront to the holy divines, if it were for power, faith in the gods would've been the better choice. No need to damn your souls eternally to a realm of Oblivion. I shake my head mournfully at the thought of my own soul being damned as well to that fate…

I set the book down at my desk and flip through the pages until illustrations of the moon phases lay before me.

When one has a natural transformation, they become their beast's two legged form. This is our strongest, our body becomes one with the wolf. We can choose this form by will, or when the moons fill. When both Masser and Secunda fill, we are at our most potent strength. If only Masser is full, our Beastblood will still trigger, just as with the two, yet it will not be as strong. Secunda's full is even weaker than Masser, but do not let the word weakness fool you, our beast form is still much stronger than the form of man.

I stare at the first line, is that why Skjor looks at me with disappointed disgust after the soul torturing sessions? I do not become a combined form of man and beast, but solely beast? Oh divines, does this mean that the wolf's spirit is stronger than my own? No. No I mustn't think like that, my faith in the divines is stronger, much stronger, than the spirit of a beast.

This could also explain my earlier bloodlust. Maybe the mediation sessions really are working, it's just the moon cycle causing my struggle. I frown as I recall the wolf spirit's words from my last session… will it truly placate it if I allow it to run? Had it known Aela would ask that of me? It surely must have known about the moon filling. I close the book and put it back into its hiding place. I clasp my hands, kneeling before my shrine to the divines. I must have the strength to get through this, perhaps if I anoint myself with holy oil before the change, I'll have the will of the divines to see me through tomorrows change… I'll have to trust Aela and Skjor to control the beast while I cannot. I don't see any other choice, there isn't a safe place for me to be contained alone during the change. I have to go with them.

…

The next night, two warriors stood in the underforge, clothed only in their small clothes, the rest of their clothing on the floor. Skjor turns his stern face to Aela, his hardened gaze softening a little as he looks at her.

"Told you the priestess wouldn't come. She has strong resentment towards the gift, she wouldn't risk betraying her gods to do anything related to the Blood willingly." He rolls his eyes at the mention of the divines, his arms crossed in annoyance that Lyra so adamantly refuses the blessing gifted to them. Does she not realize the power and honor one has with it?

"You give her so little credit Skjor, because of her gods she'll come. I've heard her talking to our shield-siblings how she's vowed to protect the citizens, she wouldn't allow herself to change alone, she knows coming with us tonight is the best option." Aela stretches her muscles, preparing for a night of running. She hopes to hunt something worthy for Hircine, in celebration of the full moon. Maybe a mammoth.

They wait in silence for a few more moments, Skjor is about to insist they go now when they both hear the door to the underforge opening down the tunnel leading toward the entrance. They hear footsteps, followed by the scent of incense, long before they see the priestess. Thanks to their gift of the Beastblood, their senses are heightened much beyond a normal mortal's.

"Glad to see you priestess! Decided to come along on our hunt after all, eh?" Aela grins, a hand on her hip. "Let's not waste any more time, longer the hunt, the better." She gestures for Lyra to remove her robes before they begin to transform first. With the night's full moon, being near two transformed beasts triggers Lyra's transformation as well. Soon, all three werebeasts are off down the tunnel to the tundra plains and away from the city.

…

Oh sweet Divines, this is happening, I panic as I watch the tall, but snow covered, grass rushing past us, galloping on all fours, before we come to a stop and stand on two legs once again, and I watch as I howl along with Aela and Skjor. I'm not in control of my body, why am I able to see what's happening? I've never been able to before…

Hush priestess, I'm allowing you to see as I do. To repay you for going on this hunt with our kind. If we were bonded, you'd be able to have more say in what we do, but I'm in control, and I will be master of our body for every transformation until then.

I internally flinch at the beast speaking to me, sounding so much more powerful than the last time, no longer a voice lingering in the back of my conscious, but forefront and commanding. I focus my attention back to our surroundings as we start to run again, the wind ruffling the beast's fur as snow flings away behind our speeding bodies. I can feel the beast begin to drool as the scent of something enters our nose. It's unfamiliar, yet I can feel the ravenous desire it causes the beast. As a hunting trio, we change direction and slow our pace just a bit to make less noise.

Ahead of us, we see an aged mammoth shifting snow drifts around to get at the buried bushes beneath. It's large form is facing away from us, and I watch as my companions each circle off to a side, and I can feel the instinctual urge to do the same, so we surround our prey from three sides.

I mentally cringe at the thought of seeing the mammoth as prey, oh Divines what a beastly thought. Is this truly what will become of me if I harmonize my soul with the wolf?

Silence.

The beast lets out a silent snarl towards my inner worries. Then, as one the three of us start towards the mammoth with Skjor's lead. He pounces onto its back and latches on with his maw, Aela attaching herself to its hind legs with claws and teeth. I watch as my wolf snaps at it's feet a few times before getting a good hold of its ankle, shaking its head vigorously back and forth, causing blood to spray in my vision.

The mammoth is trumpeting in pain and fear, trying to buck the beasts off of it, but Skjor and Aela hold tight. Skjor makes his way towards its head and wraps a large beastly arm around its face and clawing out the eyes to prevent it from escaping efficiently. Aela hops off the large mammal and starts on the other legs, aiming for tendons to cripple the poor beast.

Once it's legs give out from underneath itself, Skjor hops off of it and starts to viciously maul its throat, causing its pained groans to weaken and gurgle, before it falls to its side. The other two begin to howl, and I pray to myself as I see the light leave the mammoth's eyes, slain by the werebeasts, while I am forced to watch as my own beast torments me with a long howl, joining the companions in their blood soaked victory, all around us the snow is splattered with red.

…

I don't know if it was from Stendarr's mercy that I do not remember what else happened, or if it is worse to not know what the beasts got up to after slaying the mammoth. I just remember waking up in the underforge, freezing from the cold, and bare. Just as always after every transformation.

Oh divines, no! I gasp as I stare at my hands, blood covering my nails in dried flakes, as well as faint smears all over my body, as if an attempt to clean was made. I clasp my bloodied hands together, praying that the blood is indeed the mammoth's and not evidence of a slaughtered innocent. Tears slip out of my eyes, burning in comparison to the cold. I get up shakily and stumble to my folded robes where I had left them before the hunt. I need to cleanse myself, oh sweet Mara, let it not be that I had murdered someone!

Would Skjor and Aela even tell me so? Or would they simply laugh it off to watch my misery over not being able to remember the rest of the night. Could they be so cruel? Are they so full of hatred at me for rejecting this curse instead of reveling in it as they? I need to find them, find out what happened, I pray to the Divines they'll tell me.

I leave the underforge, shivering from the early morning chill, I hurry my way to the mead hall, careful to not slip on any patches of ice. Why I decided to travel to Skyrim in the spring, I'm not sure… perhaps desperation clouded my judgement, I should've waited until the summer months.

Inside, the main hall is empty, the fire pit just smoldering embers. I quietly hurry my way to the washroom downstairs and as soon as I reach the basin, I push up the sleeves of my robes and begin scrubbing. I must get all this blood off, be it mammoth or, Divines forbid, a person's. I grab the soap and rub furiously at the evidence of sin from the night's events, oh gods why must there still be so much. I can't help myself from the tears that begin to fall as the water is tainted with red. I strip out of my robes and grab a bathing cloth to scrub at my skin harder, if I just wash my skin until it's raw, so be it, anything to get rid of the blood.

I don't know how long I've been scrubbing my body, but everywhere is a furious pink, even stinging in some places, but at last, I'm clean. Only on the surface sadly, underneath my skin is still the filth of the curse that burdens me. If there were a way to purge it from my soul, I'd gladly do it in a heartbeat, but… I sink down to the floor, kneeling as tears once more fall. Is there even a cure? Kodlak says he's still searching, yet no one has ever heard of a way to reverse lycanthropy once contracted… besides death, but that would lead to an eternity of torment in Oblivion, the tainted soul never able to rest. Why would anyone want to willingly subject themselves to that fate, I'll never understand.

Kynareth give me strength, please… I hold my hands to my chest as I begin to sob at what my afterlife will be like. I don't know much about Hircine's realm, besides an endless hunt, would I be made to hunt innocents over and over again? Or would I be the hunted, chased by monster hunters? I gasp and cover myself with my discarded robe when I hear the washroom's door open, quickly wiping my face of tears, hoping to save myself from minor embarrassment at being found a weeping mess on the room's floor.

Thank the divines it's just the new recruit, Greida. She gives me an odd look, but from the tiredness in her eyes, she just nods at me and begins to undress to bathe herself, she does bid a small greeting.

"Morning there priestess," I greet her as well, pulling my robes back over myself so I'm no longer indecent. I give her a small bow.

"Excuse me, I'll give you privacy, I didn't realize how long I was in here." I quickly leave as she steps into the washtub, not even remotely bothered about me still being in the room when she had readied herself to wash. Perhaps Skyrim's citizens are more open about nudity than down in Cyrodiil. Knowing it is now too late to get some sleep in, as the day has now begun, I head to the kitchen to begin breakfast for everyone.

Tilma is already busy working some dough when I enter, and she wordlessly greets me with a smile, not pausing her kneading for a moment. I pull out some meat and begin preparing it in strips, I notice the bloodlust is greatly lessened, but it fills me with more worry than relief. Is the beast sated from whatever kills it made last night? Is that why this is of no bother now? When will the insatiable thirst for violence return? A floury hand grabs my forearm gently.

"Careful now dear, you almost cut yourself spacing off like that." I set the knife down and glance at Tilma, nodding slightly as she goes back over to prepare the dough for rising. I leave the sliced meat to cook on the wood stove and start cracking some eggs into a bowl for mixing, thank the gods Tilma stopped me from cutting a finger off. I mustn't lose focus when dealing with sharp things… or anything really, I need to stay focused. Maybe it'll help when the struggle against the curse gets difficult again. I hope…

…

"Aela, may we speak?" I approach Aela in the training yard, and she passes me a glance as she releases yet another arrow into a pin cushioned target.

"Relax priestess, me and Skjor wouldn't have allowed anything bad to have happened. I was wondering when you'd come have a talk with me." She glances around the yard, assuring it's empty besides us still, and continues.

"Your wolf cares for you despite your rejection you know. After our successful hunt, she tried to clean herself off in the snow drifts, knowing you'd be horrified by the blood. Can't blame the pup for the attempt, even if she didn't get it all." Aela gives me a pitying look, what for I'm not fully certain, be it for me or the beast.

"You're certain it was just the mammoth? No one else?" I pleaded, wanting to be certain no innocents were slaughtered. I sigh in relief at her nod, my hands relaxing from clenching my robes. I bid her farewell, a huge weight of worry gone as I head down to the temple for some prayer around others of faith. I just give my thanks to the Divines that nothing else happened. When I enter through the temple doors, I feel a wave of comfort surround me, a sense of homesickness as well. I hope to return home eventually… if that's even possible if I am unable to remove the curse.

I kneel before the shrine to Kynareth, clasping my hands together as I pray. With clarity in my thoughts, I think on what Aela had told me, the beast caring for me… how could such a thing be true? The wolf spirit is of Daedric origin, and nothing good can come from that. The beast may care of my well-being, seeing as if I die, it dies… does it? Or will we remain entangled, even in the afterlife in Oblivion? Besides, could it even have feelings so human? Such empathy couldn't possibly come from it…

When I stand from my prayers, priestess Danica approaches with a smile, which I return.

"Well met sister, care to lend me some assistance?" She gestures to a few sick citizens, and I nod, going to a middle aged woman with rattling breaths. I greet her, my hands alighting with healing magicks as it descends upon her, already her breathing easing to a more comfortable state. I heal her as well as can be done, then I grab a bottled remedy that'll help cure the rest of her ailment. I instruct her when and how much to take, and bid her farewell and good health. I spend the rest of the afternoon at the temple, assisting with healings and other priestly duties with Danica, it almost feels like home.

…

Heading back to Jorrvaskr, I feel much lighter, a peaceful calm from the time in the temple. I could almost pretend there is no curse, and that I'm just on a pilgrimage to other temples in the land. At the top of the steps, I spot Farkas and the new recruit, Greida, armed and armored, packs of supplies on their backs.

"Going on a job then?" I ask politely as I approach, stopping at the top next to them.

"I'm going with her to evaluate her proving to be an official member of the Companions. We're to collect a fragment of Wuuthrad from an old tomb." Farkas pats Greida on her shoulder proudly.

"Wuuthrad? I feel I'm owed quite a tale when you two return." I smile, I'll have to meet with Kodlak to find out what exactly is Wuuthrad, some sort of broken artifact?

"Do you have plenty of healing supplies? Back home, the dead sometimes became restless in old forgotten crypts, it's best to make sure you're prepared for injuries. I've been making sure there's a decent stock of healing packs, everything you'd need for a quick fix up." Greida slides off her pack at my words and pulls out one of the healing kits I've prepared.

"Got it right here, I've never been to a tomb, but I'm sure the dead can't be too much trouble, I mean, they're dead aren't they?" She gives a confident grin, readjusting her pack.

"The draugr can definitely put up a fight, part of why it's your proving, if you can handle the ancient Nords, you're worthy to be an official Companion. Let's go," with that, Farkas nods a farewell to me as they both begin down the steps. I hope they'll do alright, I'll make sure to be ready for any injuries when they return.

I enter the mead hall and head to the kitchen to help start dinner, work is never done, no matter the role in Jorrvaskr. At least my work doesn't involve violence and bloodshed… I mentally shudder at the fading memories from the hunt with Aela and Skjor. Thank the Divines that I do not have to do such things often…

…

The next day, the market is buzzing with activity. Many citizens gather in groups, talking amongst themselves rather than bartering with merchants, who are also engaging in the conversations. What is going on? I notice some of them look worried, so whatever it is, it isn't good.

"Excuse me, what's got everyone riled up?" I approach one of the merchants as she rearranges her stock.

"There's been some more skirmishes up north, they say Ulfric's supporters are stirring up trouble against the Empire again. The last thing Skyrim needs is a war right now, there's already trouble on the roads as it is." She shakes her head, frowning.

"Who's Ulfric? Why's he need supporters? I'm not familiar with the influential people of Skyrim…" I browse her wares while we talk, adding some items to my basket to buy.

"He's the Jarl in Windhelm. He and a lot of other Nords are against the treaty the Empire made with the elves, banning the worship of Talos has caused a lot of unrest. Tensions have been rising with each year it doesn't change. The worst of it was in Markarth, right after the Great War, but I don't know much about that, I was too young to know what was going on over there."

I purchase the items and thank her, but before I turn to leave, she places a gentle hand on my arm, a warning look in her eyes.

"Be careful who you ask about those sorts of things, these days even long time friends can be turned against one another. Just keep to yourself and you should be fine, be thankful you're a Nord, with that Cyrodiilic accent of yours, you could be made a target by the more extremist supporters. Just a word of warning," she bids me farewell with that, and turns back to her ledger.

A little unsettled by her words, I nod a thanks and head towards other market vendors to finish my shopping list. Political racism is not new to me, yet I've never been a target. Back home, a lot of those with high elven blood were shunned after the war. Most relocated to areas less affected by the war, but given that the temple of Bruma used to be dedicated to Talos, a lot of tension amongst the older residents still remained.

I never even thought about how Skyrim would be, I'm blessed that the Companions are neutral to politics, seeing as they are an honored group of mercenaries. If a war were to start in Skyrim, would I still be safe within the Companions? Or would the citizens of Whiterun demand I return to Cryodiil? Gods I hope not, I still need the help of the Companions to handle my curse…

I finish my shopping excursion early and return to pray in my room in private. I pray to the Divines that they will see me through the uncertain future, and that I may gain control of the curse so I can return home and not worry so of the safety of others. If I'm never to gain control of the curse, I dearly pray that a cure could be found, or I fear I may need to seclude myself in isolation, somewhere far from others. A few tears fill my eyes at the thought of not being able to safely be around those I heal and pray with.

I am not a mere beast to be controlled, Priestess. Remember what I've told you, there will be strength in accepting me as a part of you. If you continue to reject, it is no fault of mine when the change bursts forth from you with the moons.

I shudder at the voice of the wolf in my mind. It's been speaking to me more, does this mean the curse is worsening? Or is it because I am around others who are afflicted? I'll need to speak with Kodlak about it… before coming to Skyrim, I've never spoken with the beast, I wasn't even aware such a thing were possible.

I stand from my praying and leave my room, heading to Kodlak's. I need to know why. I gently knock on his door, entering when he speaks to enter. I look at him nervously, my hands falling to my robes to fidget out of habit.

"Sir? I have a few things to ask of you, if you have a moment?" He gives me a curious look and gestures at the seat across from him.

"Of course," he doesn't say more and waits for me to continue. I sit, and look down at my lap.

"The beast… it's… it's been speaking to me as of late… does this mean the curse is worsening? It's never spoken before until I've come here…" I grip my robes with worry, was it a mistake to have come here?

"Ah, I see. No. No your curse is not worsening. Communing with the wolf spirit is common amongst those of us who begin to have more control over the Beastblood, be it accepting and embracing it, or from wishing to subdue it. Though it is more cunning than the wild beasts, it still has the base instincts of wishing to run free. It'll try reasoning with you, and if unsuccessful, it could try to fight to become in control itself. This unfortunately is how many of those afflicted lose themselves to the beast, from their wills not having resolve against it. But you are strong willed, your faith in the Divines aids you." He pauses in thought.

"Hold onto your faith, and you shall be alright, many of us seek out something to anchor ourselves. For me, it is the hope I'll one day see Sovngarde, which is why I still search for the cure." He looks off wistfully, leaning back in his chair.

I nod at his words, feeling comfort that despite the beast, my faith is still strong and that it'll help me against the coming battle of wills. I won't allow my soul to bond with that of the wolf, so I'll be left with it trying to consume me…

"Thank you, I will continue with my prayers and meditation. I caught Farkas and Greida on their way out yesterday, they mentioned something about a fragment of Wuuthrad? Is it… is it an artifact that could cure us?" I ask hopefully, my face falling when he answers.

"No, sadly. Wuuthrad is the legendary weapon of Ysgramor, the founder of the Companions. It was shattered ages ago, it's pieces have since been scattered and lost. We have been collecting the fragments for a while now, the ones we have are on display upstairs. If it could cure the Beastblood, we'd have redoubled our efforts. Alas, it's a symbol of our history, not able to break curses." Kodlak stands and pulls a book from one of his bookshelves, laying it on the table.

"If you'd like to read more about Wuuthrad, or of how the Companions came to be, this book is full of the knowledge." I thank him and take the book as I stand, I bid him farewell and leave to my room to read more. It'll certainly help to learn more about the origin of the people I'm staying with, even if there's nothing about a cure…