Summary:

In this chapter, Bjorn recovers from his last battle, confronts his inner demons, and reflects on his long-lost twin sister, Hela. (She hasn't been mentioned in the story until now, but in my consistent Elder Scrolls canon, Hela is the one who completes the Dark Brotherhood questline, while Bjorn focuses on the main quest, Companions, and Dawnguard. It always made more sense for different characters to tackle different guilds.) Meanwhile, Bjorn and Amirah strategize how to take on the Rising Dawn Syndicate, and Bjorn finally gets even with Wulfmir.

"What is better? To be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort ?" -Paarthurnax

Bjorn might have been wounded as he slept, but in his dream he was stronger than ever. There were dragons again, this time more than one and they varied in their appearance. He was slaying them alongside a man in black ebony armor. He couldn't see the man's face because of the masked helmet that covered it, but he knew from his build he had to either be a Redguard or a Nord.

As they were fighting, Bjorn was absorbing power from each of the dragons after he killed them. It was as if every dragon he slew made him stronger than before.

Finally, the black dragon that he had seen many times arrived once again. The warrior in the ebony armor sheathed his weapon and turned to Bjorn and said: "this one is all yours."

Bjorn froze up, suddenly he didn't appear as confident.

"What's wrong?" The ebony warrior asked him.

"He frightens me."

"There is nothing to fear, Bjorn. He's a part of you. Once you realize that you can defeat him without effort."

Bjorn awoke to several faces staring back at him. It took him a moment to realize they were all familiar to him. It was Amirah, Grisnakh, Kurdan, Mahsa and Amirah's two older brothers Jamal and Karim.

Bjorn noticed he was in a different location than before. He was in Mahsa's healing temple in the city of Skaven. This confused him, because the last thing he remembered before his dream was being at the shrine of Namira and Amirah rescuing him.

"What? How-How did I get here? What happened?" "

"Teleportation magic, " Karim grinned with a sense of pride, "I'm still no master at it, but I'm getting there."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it. You were useful for a change," Jamal was busting him.

"I am often useful, my brother. I've learned many valuable things while studying the arcane arts. A lot of innovations have been possible because of magic, no matter how much you and father frown upon it."

"Yeah, yeah. We get it. Trying to impress those elven women as always. Always been your fetish."

"Elven women are nice. What's the problem? And you aren't one to talk anyway.. You know nothing about anything except fighting, womanizing and booze!."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Those are all great things to know about. I think you're just jealous of me"

"Ha! Jealous? Don't make me laugh!"

"Cut it out already! Both of you! You're grown men and you're acting like children! It's pathetic!" Amirah finally stepped in.

"Ah come on! I love my little brother. He knows I'm just busting him," said Jamal.

Amirah rolled her eyes and shook her head at her brothers, she then turned to Grishnakh and Kurdan
, "and I hope you two have settled your differences."

"Not a chance!" They both said at the same time.

"He disgraced the stronghold. He's not welcome back. End of story." Kurdan asserted.

"Ha! Disgraced the stronghold?" Laughed Grishnakh, "You're a disgrace to your entire kind!"

"Enough!" Bjorn couldn't take it anymore, "shut up already! All of you!"

"Shut up?" Grishnakh was ready to finish what Margaret started, "Maybe we should have let you die, you ungrateful prick!"

"Maybe you should have. Then I wouldn't have had to listen to your nonsense."

"Ok! That's it," Amirah stepped in, " All of you give Bjorn and I a moment alone. We have a lot to catch up on."

Amirah told Bjorn her story of how she joined the Swords of Serenity and became familiar with the Rising Dawn Syndicate. She told him everything, except about Tava. One day she'd tell him about her. One day, but not today.

"So you've met that bastard too. I need to find him and kill him."

"It's easier said than done."

:"Well I'm not going to talk anymore then. I'll just do it".

Amirah sighed and shook her head at him.

"If you think you can do better than a group of trained hammerfell warriors and powerful mages then be my guest. This is bigger than your quest for revenge, Bjorn."

"I know it's bigger. Zalam-dar and his thugs were just puppets. Once I'm done with them, I need to go after the puppet masters. "

"Haven't you been listening to anything I'm saying? the Rising Dawn Syndicate is becoming a greater and greater threat. They tried to overthrow the government of High Rock and almost succeeded!l They are killing innocent people!"

" I don't see how I'm arguing. I'm not saying we don't stop them, I'm saying they aren't the only enemy."

Amirah grabbed a potion from an end table near the hammock Bjorn was resting on and handed it to him.

"Here," she told him, "this will help you regain your strength. Mahsa said you should take it."

As Bjorn drank the potion, he felt something furry crawling on his legs. He looked down and saw Mahsa's pet monkey Babur. The monkey had made his way up to his chest now and was staring back up at him. Bjorn smiled at the monkey, put his potion down and started petting Babur.

Amirah chuckled, "he got you to smile! I don't think he realizes how much of an achievement that is"

"Seeing you again certainly made me smile as well," Bjorn held Amirah's hand and began stroking her fingers. The monkey wandered off. Bjorn sat up and slowly leaned into kiss Amirah, but she pulled away.

"Bjorn, I thought you were dead for four years. Forgive me if I need some time before we just pick up where we left off."

"Forgive my impatience. I've been waiting to kiss your beautiful lips again for four years. "

Bjorn leaned in once more to kiss her but she pulled away again. Bjorn rolled his eyes.

" Look, I still love you Bjorn. Let's just…. take things slow, ok?"

"Fine. Whatever you say," Bjorn sounded mildly irritated.

"Thank you Bjorn. So understanding as always."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Of course not.".

"Ok."

"We need to figure out our next move against Zalam-dar. Lives are at risk. Once things are a bit calmer, you can take me out on a proper date like the lady I am. Not just slobber all over me like an animal, got it?"

"Sure. Understood ma'am," Bjorn was getting smart with her.

"You haven't changed one bit, " Amirah laughed, "anyway, we will talk more later. For now, I'll let you rest up and heal."

Bjorn tried to rest more but was afraid of falling asleep. His dreams were confronting him with truths about himself that he had tried to run away from.

"He is a part of you".

The Ebony warrior in his dream was right. The black dragon terrified him because it was a part of him. It was his shadow, the darkness within himself he wasn't ready to face but deep down he knew he had to.

Bjorn now thought of his long lost twin sister Hela. His parents told him never to speak her name again. It'd been so long since he had spoken her name, he often forgot he wasn't born an only child. That darkness inside him was inside of her as well. Only she never tried to fight it like he did. She surrendered to it and embraced it.

Bjorn and Hela were both unusual children, but Hela was exceptionally weird. Soon after her grandmother Helena Storm-Child's funeral, Hela developed a fascination with death. She was only four years old.

The funeral was held in Markarth, close to Storm-Child farm where Freya and her siblings had grown up. Like many traditional Nords, Helena had a fire burial. Most of the people attending the funeral were either in tears or reminiscing about their fond memories of Helena
Storm-Child. Hela, however, was in awe at the site of her grandmother's corpse slowly being burned away by flames. She couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"Isn't it beautiful? "Hela whispered to Bjorn.

"I don't know what you're talking about. This is sad. We won't see grandma again. I'm gonna miss her."

"Yes, but there's still beauty to it . Think about it, recently she was yelling at us for stealing the eggs out of the hen house and now she's completely still and silent. She looks so peaceful."

Bjorn was bewildered by this statement. He didn't know how to respond.

"Makes me think of the chickens on Gramp and Granny's farm. Flapping their wings, clucking away and then slice off their head and …..dead ! "

Hela started imitating a chicken. A couple of people's heads turned and gave her a dirty look.

"Stop it Hela, you're scaring me! "

Hela laughed, "You don't have to be afraid, Bjorn. You're my twin brother, I love you. And if anyone ever messes with you, they'll end up just like granny."

" I guess that's nice to know," That didn't make Bjorn any less afraid.

Soon after this , Hela asked Gunther to take her to the Windhelm cemetery to attend more funerals and to visit the hall of the dead.

Gunther was very uncomfortable with this, yet agreed to take her, thinking it was a harmless interest she'd eventually grow out of. Sadly, the obsession soon became worse. She discreetly started taking belongings of the dead and even human body parts home with her as souvenirs. Once Gunther found out about this, he was disgusted and refused to take her anymore. But Hela didn't let that stop her. She'd sneak out and go to the cemetery and the Hall of the Dead on her own at night when her parents were sleeping or when they were busy at the shop or doing other errands.

The locals all soon knew of Hela's bizarre hobby. Of course, it was hard to ignore when she'd place human skulls and other dead body parts on people's doorsteps, or do other grotesque rituals and pranks. She enjoyed frightening others. It was a game to her. Freya and Gunther were so ashamed of her behavior they didn't even know how to discipline her. They mainly looked the other way out of embarrassment and denial.

Hela was bullied by the other children in the neighborhood because of how she acted. They'd taunt her when they'd see her and call her "Hela the strange". Her only friend was a dunmer girl named Narissa. They connected because dunmers weren't particularly liked by Nords in Windhelm and she was immediately treated like an outcast just like Hela was.

Bjorn was a quiet child and kept to himself. He never drew attention to himself like Hela, yet always stood up for her whenever she was picked on. He didn't care what she did, blood was blood to him and he had her back no matter what.

Heinrich was the main child who taunted Hela and was the leader of the bullies. One day, Bjorn broke Heinrich's nose after he threw a chunk of ice at Hela, almost hitting her in the head.

" You leave my sister alone!" Bjorn told him

The bullying quieted down for a while after this. However, about a year before the family left for Hammerfell, Heinrich and a group of nord children followed Hela and Narissa to the cemetery at night to taunt them.

"Hey freak! Why don't you and your dunmer friend move to Morrowind? We don't want you here!" Heinrich called out to them.

Narisa was nervous and shaking. Hela put her hand on her shoulder to comfort her, and looked over at the bullies and smiled "it's a nice graveyard isn't it? Look at that coffin over there; it's empty, I bet all of you are small enough to fit in it together. "

"Whatever, freak! Maybe we should teach you and your grayskin friend a lesson! You don't have your brother to protect you this time!"

The children walked over to them, Narissa hid behind one of the tombstones and was panicking. Hela approached Heinrich and the mob confidently and was ready for confrontation.

"I'm always open to learning something new. And I don't need my brother here to protect me. Go ahead, teach me a lesson, tough guy."

Heinrich started laughing and looked at the rest of his friends.

"Can you believe this freak…" before he knew it, Hela had pulled out her dagger and slit his throat. Blood was spraying everywhere. Hela smiled. "A clean cut. Just like I planned. As easy as killing a chicken," she laughed.

In his last moments, Heinrich gasped for air as his eyes looked at Hela with disbelief and she glared back at him as if he was an insect she had just crushed with her feet.

Heinrich then fell to the ground dead and his friends started running away crying for their parents. Hela quickly grabbed another boy in the group from behind and slit his throat as well. She looked back to the graveyard and saw that Narissa had already taken off and was nowhere to be seen.

She needed to find her. Hela knew the guards would find a way to blame Narissa if she didn't do something about it. Even though Narissa took no part in the murders herself, she'd still be treated worse than Hela, simply for being a dark elf.

Hela knew what she had to do. She headed towards the Grey quarter to look for her. She found her right outside her parents home, trying to sneak in the window. Hela grabbed her from behind , covered her mouth and put her dagger to her throat.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Narissa. Just trust me, ok?"

Narissa nodded as if she understood.

Hela walked over to the nearest guard, still holding the dagger to Narissa's throat from behind.

"You better get me on a boat out of Skyrim. Or I'm cutting this grayskin's throat right now!"

"I have no time for silly games, little girl. You kids are out too late to be playing. Go home to your parents. It's past your bedtime."

"This isn't a game, you dumb milk-drinker! I just killed two boys over at the cemetery. And this dark elf here was going to turn me in! I'll kill her too if you don't get me out of Skyrim!"

"Oh, sure! And I'm Queen Barenziah and I just had dinner with Tiber Septim at Candlehearth Hall. "

"Are you really this stupid? I'm five years old and I'm more qualified to be a guard than you are."

"Hey you better learn some manners! Didn't your parents teach you to respect the city guard?

"No, actually they always told me you were all lazy and incompetent".

"Hmph. So that's who you get your attitude from, makes sense now"

Two other guards came rushing over to him "that's her! That's the girl we've been looking for! She killed those two little boys over there!"

"What?" The guard knew he had messed up by not taking it seriously and tried to make himself look good, "oh yes of course! I knew that. I'm the one who found her! Alright little girl, you drop that dagger right now and let the elf go!"

"He's lying, he didn't even know what was going on."

The other guards didn't care whether he was lying or not. They pointed their weapons at her and told her she was under arrest.

"Fine, fine, fine" she said "I'll let her go. And I'll come quietly."

She took the dagger away from Narissa's throat, shoved her towards the guards and began ranting to them about her, "she was always worthless, anyway! She was always weak!. She tried to stop me from killing those boys , but I fought her off like the coward she is. Then she tried to rat me out to the guards. Actually cared that those brats died! Pathetic!"

The plan went exactly as Hela intended. She was fully blamed for the incident, and Narissa was commended for standing up to her and was let off the hook. "Perhaps you Dunmer aren't all as bad as we thought," said one of the guards.

Hela was too young to be put in prison, so her parents gave her away to Honorhall orphanage in Riften. They had heard that Grelod, the head of the orphanage, was very stern and strict with the children there. They hoped she would straighten her out. . It was also known that Grelod never let anyone adopt any of the children and that she would be let out on her own once she turned 16. They hoped that by then she'd be reformed.

Freya and Gunther were well respected in Windhelm before this incident. But after this happened, many blamed them for Heinrich and the other child's death.

It was around this time that the Thalmor started to learn about Freya and Gunther's secret operations against the Thalmor in Skyrim.

A wealthy Nord named Hrolf and his son Erikur in Solitude were paid handsomely by Elenwen, the Thalmor Ambassador to Skyrim, to visit Freya and Gunther's shop in Windhelm as patrons. Their goal was to get close to the couple, earn their trust, and gather any information they could to lure Freya and Gunther into a trap. The Thalmor couldn't operate openly in Windhelm, and this was their only way of getting their hands on them.".

Freya and Gunther soon caught on to the plot, and in self-defense, they killed Hrolf. That's when the couple fled to Hammerfell with Bjorn.

What scared Bjorn the most about his sister was not what she did, but that on some level he admired what she did. He often wanted to kill Heinrich himself for the way he treated his sister.. If Hela hadn't been the one to do it, could he have done it himself?

Bjorn now remembered what Chief Kurdan taught him, "In fighting monsters, you must be careful that you do not become a monster yourself."

That monster inside her was inside of him as well. He needed to face it. He needed to learn to control it, otherwise it would control him.

Once he rested up, Amirah knocked on his door.

"Rah-Rah, is that you?"

"Rah-Rah?" Amirah was pleasantly surprised, "never thought I'd hear that nickname again!"

She smiled and leaned against the doorframe, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her. It had been years since Bjorn had called her by that nickname, a remnant of their shared past. She had missed the playful familiarity that it represented, and hearing it now brought back a flood of memories.

Amirah stepped into Bjorn's room, taking in the sight of him sitting on the edge of the hammock, looking tired but content. His eyes met hers and he smiled warmly at her. There was something different about him, something that hinted at a newfound peace within himself.

"You look better," she remarked, pleasantly surprised at his positive shift in demeanor. "The last time I saw you, you were completely drained."

Bjorn nodded stoically, "I needed to clear my head and find my purpose again. It was a long and arduous process, but I think I'm finally on the right path."

Amirah's heart swelled with pride for him. She had witnessed him struggle through moments of self-doubt and despair, but here he was, facing his demons head-on and having faith in himself once again.

"If we are going to take on the Rising Dawn Syndicate, we need to make sure your fighting skills are up to par" Amirah reminded Bjorn, , "How about we train outside a bit. Do a little sparring?"

"Sure. Always wanted to know how I'd stand against a trained Hammerfell warrior, " Bjorn teased her, "let's see if the Swords of Serenity taught you anything useful."

Despite his injury, Bjorn pushed himself to train harder than ever before. The extra challenge presented by his injuries made him step up his game even more. Training with someone he loved also helped him maintain a clear head, free from the rage he'd feel when fighting a sworn enemy..

With each swing of the sword, Bjorn could feel his muscles strengthening and his focus sharpening. Amirah's guidance helped him regain his confidence and reminded him of his true potential as a warrior.

Amirah fought with the stamina, agility, and strength one would expect from a trained Hammerfell warrior, yet she had her own unique style, as if she was taking a dance she learned and making it her own. She skillfully pre-meditated and intercepted Bjorn's powerful blows with his longsword, though his skill was equally impressive.

They persisted in their training for several weeks at a training ground not far from Mahsa's healing temple. Their sessions grew increasingly rigorous as Amirah continuously urged Bjorn to exceed his boundaries. Her goal was to ensure not only his skill but also his readiness for any possible scenario in combat. She showed him some of the techniques her mentor Azzan had taught her, and Bjorn was impressed with her mastery of them. Bjorn wasn't merely recovering his strength; he was evolving into a more formidable version of himself than he had ever been.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Amirah and Bjorn sat under a clear Hammerfell sky, savoring a moment of respite. They sat by the campfire, winding down before retiring to their tent for the night.

"Rah-Rah," Bjorn began, using her nickname once more, "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me. I'm just so happy to have you back in my life again."

"Same here Bjorn," Amirah said affectionately, "I missed you more than you can imagine." The sputtering and snapping of the fire, along with the mating calls of crickets in the distance were the only sounds for a moment, their deep emotional connection filling the space between them.

"You know," Bjorn continued introspectively, "I've been thinking about my sister, Hela, and my own inner demons. Your training has helped me confront the darkness within me, but I still worry about it overpowering me and turning me into her."

Amirah looked up at the stars, the night's silence allowing her to choose her words carefully. "Sometimes, Bjorn, confronting our demons is a journey that takes time and patience. It's not always about vanquishing the darkness but understanding it. I went through the same thing with my anger. For years I wanted to avenge my mother Iszara, but now I'd rather carry her torch of kindness and compassion."

"You're right. Thanks, Rah-Rah."

"Just remember, you don't have to face this journey alone. You have allies who care about you, and I'll be right by your side."

An awkward silence followed, as the two of them looked at each other longingly. Bjorn was ready to move in for the kiss, but Amirah leaned in and beat him to it. She then whispered in his ear, "I'm ready to be with you again."

Bjorn and Amirah made love under the moonlit sky. They reveled in the simple pleasure of finally being together again, no words were needed, only the warmth of each other's touch.

After they finished, they stayed up talking to each other and cuddling into the late hours of the night.

Bjorn, feeling inspired, grabbed his lute and began to play. He felt thankful to Grishnakh for bringing him his lute all the way from Krozdog; he knew Bjorn needed music as much as he needed his sword.

"You've gotten better," Amirah observed.

"Oh well, I mean, I'm more of a man now. I know how to keep you satisfied," Bjorn replied with a proud grin on his face.

"Bjorn," Amirah chuckled, "I meant with the lute."

"Oh, of course," Bjorn responded, slightly embarrassed, "Yeah, I never stopped playing."

Amirah burst out laughing, her laughter charming and infectious. "Oh, Bjorn. You are one of a kind."

"What about you? Did you ever write any songs while we were separated, or perform at any inns?"

"No," Amirah replied with a sense of melancholy. "The years I thought you were dead, the music stopped for me."

Before they could continue this heartfelt moment, they were interrupted by an unexpected intrusion.

Their eyes locked in alarm, Amirah and Bjorn scrambled to dress hastily, their hearts racing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. Their weapons were at the ready, prepared to take on any foe who was approaching them.
Emerging from the shadows, Grishnakh, a wide grin on his face, greeted them with a boisterous laugh. "Well, well, what do we have here? I've been looking all over for you two."

Amirah's cheeks flushed with awkwardness, while Bjorn's expression transformed from shock to annoyance. "Grishnakh! You could have given us some privacy."

Ignoring their discomfort, Grishnakh leaned against a palm tree and crossed his arms. "Privacy? You two lovebirds are right outside Skaven. Any nearby knucklehead with eyes can see the two of you.."

Bjorn sighed, his irritation giving way to curiosity. "What do you want, Grishnakh? You interrupted us for a reason."

Grishnakh's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "I overheard some chatter from a group of travelers who came through town earlier. They mentioned something about a man named Wulfmir hiding in the forests of Craglorn."

"And it's the Wulfmir we're looking for, you're sure?"

"I am, fit the description you gave me. They also mentioned he had been involved with Hagraven the Fearless too. It's definitely him."

"Did they provide any specific details? Where in the forest is he hiding?"

Grishnakh scratched his beard thoughtfully. "They weren't very clear, but they did mention a hidden encampment deep within the forest, away from prying eyes. Said something about werewolves being sighted near there too"

Amirah knew the urgency of the situation. "We can't waste any time. If Wulfmir is there, we need to find him and learn what he knows about the Rising Dawn Syndicate."

"And then I'll kill him," Bjorn reminded her.

Grishnakh nodded in agreement. "You can count me in. I'll be with you every step of the way."

The three of them quickly packed their belongings and made their way to the dark edge of the forests of Craglorn, ready to face whatever challenges they might find there.

As they arrived and ventured into the heart of Craglorn forest, it was unusually quiet, except for the occasional hoot of an owl or a wolf's howl in the distance. They had entered a realm that felt both mystical and ominous. It was as if the very forest itself held its breath, anticipating their arrival. They could feel the trees watching their every move, as though evaluating them for some sort of test

After hours of navigating the tangled undergrowth, they arrived at the edge of a vast, shadowy clearing. In the center, a faint flicker of light betrayed the presence of an encampment. It was there, deep in the heart of the forest, that they believed Wulfmir the Unmerciful had taken refuge.

Amirah now took the lead, her senses sharp as she scouted the area, looking for any signs of danger. At the edge of the clearing, they took cover behind a cluster of bushes and trees. From their concealed position, they observed the encampment and its inhabitants: Wulfmir the Unmerciful and his loyal band of bandits, their menacing presence unmistakable.
Bjorn whispered to Amirah and Grishnakh, "That's him, all right. No doubt about it."

Wulfmir's unkempt mane and beard remained unchanged since their last encounter, yet he had grown more muscular and imposing. His heartless eyes betrayed his merciless nature.

Bjorn glared at the Nord with bloodlust burning in his eyes. He knew that this was their chance to finally confront him.

No longer able to keep in his deeply held hatred for this man, Bjorn called out, "Hey Wulfmir! You sorry excuse for a Nord, turn around!"

"What maggot is back for more this time?" Wulfmir chuckled, readying his Warhammer and flexing his muscles.

"I'm Bjorn the Swordsmith you, that thug Zalam-dar, and your wretched wife Margaret killed my parents!"

"And I'm supposed to remember? And I'm supposed to care?"

Wulfmir's laughter reverberated through the clearing. Undeterred, Bjorn tightened his grip on his sword, gritting his teeth.

"You'll remember when that ugly head of yours rolls on the ground!" Bjorn roared as he charged towards him.

Amirah, watching from the shadows, sighed in annoyance. "Jumping in without a plan, as always," she muttered under her breath. Grishnakh looked back at her and shrugged before joining Bjorn in the battle.

Wulfmir, not even fazed by the confrontation, taunted Bjorn as they fought, "Your parents were weak. They met their end as all weaklings do."

As the trio fought the bandits, their fighting styles complemented each other well. Amirah's stamina, agility, and reflexes were impressive, allowing her to dodge and counterattack with ease. She plunged her swords into one of the bandit's abdomen, lifting him into the air like a levitation spell as he bled out. Meanwhile, Grishnakh's battleaxe carved through the bandits effortlessly, like a butcher slicing through meat, striking down and dismembering multiple foes at once. Bjorn fought with a sword and shield, following the combat style of his mother, Freya Storm-Child. His enormous strength allowed his shield strikes to knock enemies to the ground, while his sword blows proved deadly even in a single hit.

Amirah, her scimitars at the ready, fought by Bjorn's side as she approached him with a mixture of frustration and concern. 'Bjorn, a little strategy next time wouldn't hurt before charging in blindly. We've got a whole bandit horde to deal with, remember?'"

Bjorn responded firmly, "This is personal, Amirah."

"Just don't make it so personal that you get others killed in the process," she told him emphatically.

As the skirmish unfolded, a sinister transformation gripped Wulfmir. His body convulsed, contorting in unnatural ways, as fur erupted from his skin. Bones cracked and reshaped, and his menacing form expanded into that of a monstrous werewolf.

Bjorn, Amirah, and Grishnakh, momentarily frozen by the unexpected metamorphosis, now faced a new adversary. The moonlit clearing became an arena for a different kind of battle, as the werewolf Wulfmir roared, its feral eyes fixated on the trio..
The moonlight glistened off his fur, his eyes now glowing with a feral, otherworldly intensity. A guttural snarl echoed through the clearing as he lunged at them, claws bared and teeth gnashing.

The battle that followed was intense, with Wulfmir displaying immense strength and speed in his werewolf form. His claws tore through the air, and his teeth snapped dangerously close to Amirah and Bjorn. Grishnakh held his own against the beast, determined to protect his friends.
The battle raged on, each side struggling to gain an advantage. It was clear that defeating Wulfmir was no small task. Amirah, with her lightning-fast strikes, focused on wearing him down. Bjorn, with his tremendous sturdiness, aimed to land a decisive blow.
Finally, an opportunity presented itself. Wulfmir's attention wavered for a fraction of a second, and Bjorn seized the moment. With a mighty swing of his longsword, he slashed through the werewolf's shoulder, causing a painful yelp. Wulfmir's focus shattered, and Amirah took advantage of the opening, delivering a fast stab with her scimitar that found its mark.

With a powerful roar of pain, Wulfmir's massive form fell like a large boulder falling from a cliff. Lying on the forest ground, he shifted back into his human form, defeated and wounded.

Amirah, Bjorn, and Grishnakh stood over him, their breaths heavy and their hearts pounding. The battle had taken its toll, yet they were victorious.

Bjorn leaned down, his sword at Wulfmir's throat, demanding answers. "Tell us everything you know about the Rising Dawn syndicate! Where is Margaret? Where is Zalam-dar?"

Wulfmir began to laugh, yet started coughing up blood shortly after, "you think I care about that crazy Breton? Or that dumb kid? We were just having some fun, but then she had to get pregnant and ruin the party for both of us."

"Is that what you called it when you killed my parents? A party?" Bjorn, unable to control his rage, sheathed his sword and pounded Wulfmir in the face several times with his fists. Wulfmir spat out a tooth and laughed in his face.

"What do you want me to do, kid, beg? Ain't gonna happen, pal," Wulfmir said firmly, "I don't care about that cat or Margaret, that crazy hagraven. I'll give them up for free, didn't need to fight me for that."

For some strange reason, Bjorn felt sorry for Margaret at that moment. He hated Wulfmir even more now. "Ok, start talking!"

"A small hidden village in the Dragontail Mountains," Wulfmir blurted out, "called Reachtown or something like that. That's where Margaret is."

"Ok, and Zalam-dar?" Bjorn was getting impatient.

"I don't know and I don't care. I never believed in any of that crazy cult nonsense," Wulfmir guffawed, yet once again started coughing up blood after. "I only ever hung around the cat because he paid good!"

"Thank you," Bjorn's tone remained icy. "Your usefulness ends now."

Wulfmir seemed at peace, ready to face his end with open arms. "Do what you gotta do."

Just when he was about to finish him off, Kurdan's voice resonated in his thoughts. Never kill a man when he is on his knees. Torn between opposing forces in his moral compass, he halted his vengeful hand.

In contrast to Kurdan, other voices in his mind attempted to pull him in a different direction. Hela's persuasive murmur curled around his conscience. Kill him now, Bjorn. It'll be so beautiful. Her words tempted him toward the darkness that lurked within.

His parents also spoke to him, like Kurdan their guidance was trying to pull him towards the light. The conflicting voices formed a chaotic symphony, each note pleading for his allegiance.

"Bjorn hesitated, torn between the shadows and the light. With a decisive breath, he sheathed his sword. Grishnakh's disappointment was obvious in his expression, while Amirah, on the other hand, was proud of him for showing self-control. "I'll let the beasts of the wild finish you off," Bjorn declared. "I never kill a man on his knees."