"No fire," Vilkas looked at Erika. She nodded.
They both sighed. They were cold and hungry, but getting discovered by the Forsworn would be a death sentence.
As they huddled together, chewing on dried meat, Erika spoke up: "Why didn't you tell us more before the job?"
"Would you have listened?" he looked at her, bitterness clear in his eyes.
She shied away. "No."
They remained silent for the remainder of dinner.
"How is your stomach?" Vilkas asked.
"Somehow holding together."
"Good."
They ruined quiet again.
Erika sighed. "I'm sorry. And thank you."
Vilkas looked at her, no expression clear on his war-painted face. He nodded after a while. "We are shield-siblings, no? We fight together. We ought to look after each other."
Erika smiled with sadness. "I will not forget again, shield-brother."
XXX
Finally, the gates of Markarth appeared before them. The darkness was setting in, leaving them only a sliver of time to get to the city.
"Wait for us!" Vilkas called out as he saw the guards preparing to close the gate for the night.
"Who goes there?" the guard called out, hand sliding to her weapon.
"Companions, returning from an assignment," Vilkas reached under his clothes and pulled a small round pendant, engraved with a simple, but skillfully made image of the Wuuthrad.
The guard motioned to another, who went forward and inspected the pendant.
"They're Companions alright!"
"Then hurry through! We need to close the gate, quick, quick!"
"I'll take you to Hag's Cure, Kodlak told me the alchemist there used to be associated with one of the Circle," Vilkas said after they limped into the city. "She should be able to patch you up. I'll go turn our quest in after we've had some sleep and food."
"Which Temple was here again?" Erika groaned. "Why not go there?"
"Dibella."
"Oh. Alright. Let's try the alchemist. Though, I do hope she is not a hag."
XXX
"Did you say your name was Vilkas? Of the Companions?" a raspy voice finally answered from behind the heavy dwemer style door.
"Aye."
"Hrakni's apprentice?"
Vilkas' heart skipped a beat. "Aye."
The door opened with loud creaking. "Come in, then."
Vilkas and Erika exchanged a look. They followed the voice inside, into a dark corridor. A woman's figure could be seen in the shadows, waiting patiently. She closed the door behind them and motioned for them to follow.
The shop itself lay lower than the corridor. It was poorly lit at the moment, making some of the ingredients look rather terrifying in the dark. On the other side was a staircase.
The alchemist led them there, to personal quarters. Small, but cosy enough looking.
"You, Vilkas of the Companions, may need to rest on a folding cot in the shop. The lady will need a proper bed and I will not give up mine."
Vilkas nodded.
"Now, tell me what aid you need."
"She got cut by a hagraven," Vilkas motioned towards Erika's stomach. "I had an ultimate healing potion on me, but she needs proper care to heal right."
"What a smart lad," the alchemist nodded. "And you?"
Vilkas pointed towards his cut plate. "I'm good. Nothing some sleep won't cure."
"I will check your ears," the alchemist narrowed her eyes at him. "But later. Now, if you please, leave us. The cot is hidden in the storage on your left!"
XXX
Soft steps broke Vilkas out of an uneasy nap.
"Just old Bothela," the alchemist soothed him as she approached. She gave a nod of approval at Vilkas' gear, neatly put aside and given the care he could.
"Talk later," she raised an index finger as she noticed him taking a breath to ask something. "First you need care."
Vilkas let her examine him, answered all her questions and showed her some of the hagraven feathers. She seemed pleased.
"Have this, mixed with water," she handed him a small vial of strangely green liquid. "Or tea, it doesn't matter. Three drops three times a day, until you finish it. Don't mix alcohol with it. The ringing in your ears should go away after."
"Thank you, madam," Vilkas took the vial, a cup and a bottle of water. He measured the drops, mixed them with water and drank the mixture.
His face contorted at the taste. Bothela grinned.
"I prefer it with tea."
Vilkas put the vial away and sat back down. "You are Hrakni's lady friend, I take it?"
"Is that what he called me?" Bothela laughed. It was a dry, raspy laugh, but with certain vigour to it.
"Not really, Kodlak did. Hrakni never told me much, except for that he would like to introduce me to someone important."
"On the last venture?"
"On the last venture."
Bothela sighed. Vilkas started fiddling with his sleeve, then looked down. He took the leather bracelet off.
"This is what I have left of him. I think you should have it, madam."
"Kind of you," she smiled with deep sadness and accepted the bracelet. She was quiet for a while, then spoke up: "I can see he raised you well. Do his legacy good, young man."
Vilkas nodded. "He told me you were a Reachwoman."
"He was right."
"May I have some questions about your people?"
"You may. I might not provide answers for all, though."
Vilkas sat quiet in thought. He wanted to ask about so many things, but one matter burnt on the top of his mind.
"What can you tell me about the Ghost of the Mountain?"
Bothela raised an eyebrow. "What an unusual question. Why?"
"Because if one didn't kill the hagraven back then I would lie dead with Hrakni." He tapped his knee. "It also…made sure I got back to Markarth safely."
"Hmmm," Bothela rubbed her chin. "Then there are two options that come to mind. Either that one was a lesser spirit of the mountains, or a shape-shifting witch. For as intelligent as the leopards are, they are mere beasts." She pointed her finger at Vilkas. "And they do not wander this far east. Definitely never close enough to a hub like Markarth."
Vilkas nodded. He took out one of his notebooks and added a few notes to a drawing of the leopard.
Bothela looked over his shoulder. "These are well made. May I have a look?"
Vilkas gave a slight smile. "Why not. Let us trade - a question for a shown page?"
"You have a deal, young man."
XXX
"Did you have any trouble getting paid?" Erika asked as they were leaving Markarth.
"Not this time," Vilkas handed her a money pouch. It was quite heavy.
Erika pocketed it. "You and the alchemist talked quite long into the night."
"She has a lot of interesting stories. I even learnt some Reachspeech. Not much, but I should be able to decode basic commands, like attack or retreat." He stretched. "She also said that you and I are always welcome, especially if we bring more interesting ingredients to her."
"Did you give her a claw?"
"Aye."
Erika grinned. "I should get this habit of yours built up too."
XXX
Whiterun, 10 days later
"No, this place is taken," Farkas blocked one of the recruits from sitting down next to him.
The chair was empty. The plate on the table was filled with food, and a still warm mug of tea stood by it.
"Are you that daft, ice brain?" Skjor scoffed. "Your brother is dead."
"Nope," Farkas shook his head. "I would know. And I know he isn't. He's gonna have his spot next to me."
"Leave him be, Skjor," Kodlak interjected. "There is enough space for everyone at our table."
"How long are we going to hold a dirge for the dead?" Bornolf asked. His face had several new burn scars. "No one could have survived that. I barely escaped with my life."
"You'll see," Farkas remained unbothered. "Honestly, you're not that good, so don't flatter yourself."
Bornolf's face grew red.
Torir joined in. "Shut up. And who're you to say if he's good or not?"
Farkas looked sideways at him. "Well, do you want to dish it out here? I'd say one on one, but I can take you both."
Torir and Bornolf turned their eyes to their plates.
"Thought so," Farkas went for a drink, but stopped midway. His gaze turned to the entrance.
A moment later, the door burst open. Two figures stood there, for a heartbeat unrecognisable in the darkness of the outside night. One of them flung their arm.
A hagraven's claw cut into the table right in front of Bornolf's plate.
"You should sell it," Vilkas walked into the light of the hall, "and buy yourself some damn courage."
Everyone's eyes were glued to Vilkas and Erika. They could see the damage on their armor sets and the overall unhealthy look of Erika's.
Farkas greeted Vilkas with a cheerful gesture, which his brother returned. Vilkas headed downstairs to take his armor off and Farkas followed, but Erika marched right in front of Bornolf.
"You left us! You damnable TURD, you turned tail and RAN! And you didn't even get one sloppy hit in! You also lured a gods-forsaken Forsworn patrol on us! As if two - yes, TWO - hagravens weren't enough!"
She spat on the ground before him. "You…you are no shield-brother of mine!"
"B-but how-how did you-"
"How did I survive this?" Erika pointed to her stomach. She shoved the armor off and lifted her tunic a bit. Everyone could see a horrifying wound, still healing, crossing the whole of her abdomen.
"Vilkas killed them all and he gave me a potion strong enough to ensure I got back to Markarth. He supported me the whole time, while we had to hide from more patrols, so that stupid hours-long trip took us nearly two days!"
She huffed and let her tunic down. "Guess what else? If you had followed the plan, we would have surprised the hags! But no, you had to go look at the creepy trees. Those cursed things have a heartbeat, you moron! Something the hags who are tending to their horror garden, are very keen on! The tree's heartbeat quickened because YOU went TOO CLOSE! After we agreed on ambushing the hags! After I spent a whole damn lot of time scouting the place!"
Erika took a breath to calm down. She made a dismissive gesture. "I denounce you, coward."
With that, she went downstairs too.
XXX
Vilkas and Farkas were just finishing up when Erika showed up in the dorms.
"I gave them a piece of my mind," she said towards Vilkas. She, just as he did, poured some clean water into a bowl each bed had and washed her hands and face.
"Hey, can I sit with you two tonight?"
Farkas looked at Vilkas, who nodded. He beamed. "Sure!"
Once they got back upstairs, Kodlak called them to his seat. "Is what Erika said true, Vilkas?"
Vilkas gave Erika a look. She folded her arms. "I just explained what happened," she grumbled in his direction.
"He did abandon us. We finished the job," Vilkas reached into his satchel and pulled a money bag and a box with hagraven claws and feathers out.
"Did you kill every hostile and save Erika?"
"No, Erika shot the first hag and killed the last Forsworn. I fought the rest and gave her a potion," he gave Erika a side glance. She arched an eyebrow at him. "If more voices are needed, you can ask the client and alchemist Bothela from Markarth."
Kodlak sighed. "Bornolf."
"Yes?"
"There is no dishonor in retreating and coming up with a better strategy to best your foes. Yet you abandoned your shield-siblings. You ran back here, alone, no word to the client, no looking back, lying about their deaths. You broke our code of honor. You…are no longer a Companion."
The hall grew silent.
Skjor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go pack your things. You have half an hour to leave."
XXX
"That's a wild story," Farkas grinned at Erika.
"It is. But I am also an excellent storyteller," she patted her chest, then winced because she stretched her wound too much.
They were sitting at the Skyforge, looking up at the starry night sky. Farkas had brought his lyre and now he started plucking the strings. Nothing too horrible, nothing too great.
"So why did you join?" he asked as he picked on the strings.
Erika looked away, forward to the horizon.
"Well, there was nothing for me at home. I'm a middle daughter of a farming family, ma and da had too many kids and they care only for the eldest. The rest have to do what they can. Marishka married young to her sweetheart, now she wants to leave. Aerik went off to become a bandit, because he couldn't eat enough at home. I left for mercenary work. Don't really know what happened to the younger ones. Not like my brothers ever liked talking to me."
"That's not nice," Farkas frowned. "Can't imagine not talking to my brother. Right?"
At that rib poke, Vilkas grumbled, but it was a warm-hearted grumble.
Erika sighed.
"I envy you, you know. At least you have each other."
"But…don't you also have us? And everyone else here? This is," Farkas waved his hand to encompass the whole of Jorrvaskr, "a family. No?"
Erika shot a questioning glance at Vilkas. He shook his head gently.
"Well, yes." She pouted. "But there is something more with you two. I've seen you fight together."
"Oh, you mean the twin thing," Farkas beamed.
Erika sighed. "Right."
Vilkas scoffed lightly, giving her the I told you so wordlessly.
"Anyway, it's getting late. Fancy a celerytory homebrew drink?"
"Celebratory," Vilkas corrected.
"Sure, what drink?"
"One of my own inventions," Farkas proudly pointed at himself. "I made a little distillery, you see. And I've been exparinting."
"Experimenting," Vilkas corrected again.
"Yeah, just like I said. It got kick!"
XXX
Autumn. 4E 186, Whiterun
The first snow came unusually early this year. Vilkas walked into Jorrvaskr and shook the snow off of his fur lined cloak. He had just returned from another job and was looking forward to spending some time with his books in the warmth of the hall.
Maybe tea.
Definitely tea. Snowberry tea with a tinge of honey. He could also possibly manage to get some fresh lavender and lemon bread, since Tilma had been baking today.
And after he had time to unwind…he had questions to ask.
Erika was in the dorms, as well as a few other recruits. She waved at him, he nodded in response.
The others acknowledged him, no negativity included. Ever since Erika started supporting the twins and getting friendly with them, the tense atmosphere plaguing their presence dispersed.
He reached for his chest.
It moved too easily. He frowned, pulling it from under the bed completely.
"Is something wrong?" Erika called out.
Vilkas tried the lock.
Cracked open. He opened the chest, breath hitching. "Orkney's ass!" he growled, getting up forcefully.
Erika grabbed his arm as he tried to rush out of the room. "Calm down, brother." At the same time, she looked - the chest was empty.
"Some thieving rats infested our hall, eh? Let me help you. For now, get your tea, go help Kodlak - he's been waiting for you to come back - and tell him what happened and that I'm helming the investigation, yeah?"
Vilkas was shaking with rage, so much so her grip on his arm tightened. He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Aye."
She let him go.
He circled his shoulders as he went to the kitchen. He made the tea he had been craving and brought it with him to Kodlak's antechamber. The Harbinger was waiting at his table, its surface covered in papers as usual.
"Is something bothering you?"
"Aye," Vilkas put his tea down and sat on the other chair. "My belongings were stolen. Erika volunteered to help."
Kodlak shook his head. "And the other thing?"
Vilkas gave him a dark look. Of course he would have noticed. He took out his payment bag and dropped it on the table so the coins inside would roll out.
Kodlak flinched.
It was miniscule, but Vilkas was on the lookout for it. He picked one of the coins. Its silver glistened in the candlelight.
"I noticed," he started, looking at the coin thoughtfully, "that you never handle silver coins. They rarely appear in Jorrvaskr. If they do, you let me handle them. I also noticed that Embla, Skjor, Norni and Sig avoid silver. Everyone in the Circle."
He put the coin down. "I also asked some shopkeepers. You lot always make sure there is no need for silver change. Don't ever stand close to silverware. When Eorlund works silver in the Skyforge, none of you go near. Sometimes all of you leave at once. And all of you are gone from here, no jobs included, on each night of full moons."
Kodlak leaned on his arms, elbows resting on the table. He looked expectant.
Vilkas narrowed his eyes. "Are you lycanthropes?"
"You were always a smart one," Kodlak's moustache moved as he smiled.
"Why? Is it not dishonorable?"
"Is wielding a blade dishonorable?"
"A blade doesn't make you lose control," Vilkas frowned.
"Neither does Blood of the Beast, if you are strong enough to wield it. That is why only the most trusted of the Companions receive it."
"But-"
"Anyone can pick up a weapon. Some might use it to protect. Others will use it to murder, maim and defile. Does that make the weapon guilty?"
"...no."
"The Blood is just a weapon. Treat it as such. A weapon, a set of armor, a bundle of potions, all in one. It is a tool meant to be used for the people of our homeland, the very ones we swore to protect."
"Does initiation into the Circle mean having to accept it?"
"Most of the time," Kodlak scratched his beard. "In my knowledge, ever since we have received the Blessing, only Hrakni was one of the Circle but not of the Blood."
"And no one knows?"
"You do now."
"Are you going to kill me?"
"No. You are a child of ours, I trust you not to sabotage your own family."
"And if I wasn't?"
"There…have been instances where extreme measures were needed to keep the secret. Only a few."
"How does Hrakni fit into all of this?"
Kodlak sighed. "I offered him the position and the Blood. He refused, but swore an oath of secrecy to me. I decided to trust him. After some time, the other members decided to abide by my decision. Especially since Askr, my predecessor, supported it."
Vilkas grew quiet for a while.
"Is that why you gave me the talk about differing moralities and why you let Skjor handle my and Farkas' training? To make sure we would be worthy to wield the Blood?"
"Aye."
"But why let Hrakni take over so much, then?"
"Nothing bad could come of it," Kodlak shrugged. "He would have led you better than Skjor, so you would be prepared either way."
I wish he hadn't died. I wish he would have taken someone better prepared.
Kodlak tapped the table. "I trust you to think it over and do the right thing, my boy. Now, let's look at these papers, shall we?"
XXX
Skjor's room was filled with moaning and the smell of sweat.
"Get off, it's coming to an end," Embla growled at the man above her. He didn't comply, instead pinned her down and finished as he wanted.
She scoffed. "It's not going to work, you know. You can't sire any heirs. That's exactly why I like doing it with you."
Skjor decided to ignore the remark, as he always did. He let Embla go and got off the bed. "The little whelp found out."
"Oh? My favourite candidate?" Embla rolled to her side. "I knew he was a good fit."
"Still going on about that?" Skjor's face turned bitter. "Don't you have better picks?"
"There are a few," Embla tapped her lips, "but I see no reason in shunning him. Strong, intelligent, dextrous, good at learning. Aela will have a hard time picking from the mates I prepared for her. Or perhaps," she gave a wolfish grin, "she will decide to bear more wolves for the pack with multiple sires."
"I thought you were against that?"
Embla shrugged. "I am. But then it will be her pack, not mine." She stretched and showed off her body. "Maybe she will even ask you for learning experience."
Skjor grumbled something unintelligible. "What about the Silver Hand?"
Embla grew serious. "They're getting bolder. My scouts report they have made camp in the old ruin to the north east."
"The one with the strange forge? Silent Moons?"
"The very same."
Skjor frowned. "Then there must be something about the forge. Why else would they make camp so openly so close?" He sighed. "I'll have to go ask Kodlak's help for this, he's always been one for books and lore."
XXX
"Why aren't you happy?"
Vilkas looked at Erika, confused.
"Torir got kicked because he stole, Bornolf is gone because he is a callous coward and next week you have your ceremony. The youngest Companion to get accepted into the ranks as of recent decades! Yet you still have the same grim face."
"That's my face for you," he remained uninterested and kept putting his books back to the chest.
Erika shook her head. "I wonder if I will ever understand you."
"It's not that hard," Farkas chipped in. "He likes reading and big words. Then he also likes sweet things. He's quiet but can explode. He's patient and vengeful. Grumpy. Loyal. And he likes to draw."
Erika arched an eyebrow. "What a cheerful way to describe your brother."
"Sure," Farkas grinned. "I'm the fun twin, so you have to have the less fun one too!"
"Less fun, more productive," Vilkas poked him back.
"Don't worry," Farkas waved his hand dismissively, "I will catch up soon enough. Then we can have rooms next to each other!" His expression turned sly. "Maybe then I'll figure out where you keep hiding your lavender bread and eat it."
"Don't you dare touch my bread."
Erika, watching them bicker, smiled. It looked like the twins were starting to open up to her. This felt like she was close to having actual brothers.
22