I had some fun writing the reverse escape from memory. Just had to brush up on the ruin name!
My versions of the Dragonborn are definitely more powerful than what they are in-game. The lore about their power and feats is much richer than what we see in Skyrim.
Full Version: Season Unending
Chapter XXXIV – Homecoming
The silence in the antechamber was deafening, but Cain found that he was still confidently relaxed for such a dire situation. He noted the two agents and assumed that many more would be waiting for them to try and escape back down the grand staircase. That suited him just fine as they had no intention of leaving that way. Then he felt Anska gently loop a hand through the strap on his bag and hoped that Anilay would remember to do something similar.
What are you waiting for? asked Anska, silently. Get us the hell out of here now!
We can’t leave Anilay behind; Mede will never let him leave this room alive. And I don’t think the pompous old fool knows that we can teleport away at the drop of a hat. I’m going to stall for time… see if you can subtly get Anilay’s attention and make sure he is ready.
Just then, Mede decided to break the ice. “So, have you nothing to say for yourself, Anilay? Years of loyal service and it all ends with treason against your Emperor? The council respects you very highly, but they will not take kindly to these actions.”
“What makes you think he is here of his own volition?” countered Cain. “Perhaps I’ve coerced him into helping us track down your little toy here? He certainly doesn’t have the physical might to stand against a Dragonborn.”
“Be silent, dog,” Mede spat. “Your kind aren’t clever enough to pull of such a stunt without inside help. I can’t believe you were foolish enough to think you’d walk out of here with my orb, let alone with your lives.”
“Ah, but there’s the rub,” said Cain. “You’re smart enough to recognize that no amount of Penitus Occulatus grunts can withstand the Voice. If we wanted to leave, we would tear right through you three and all those that I’m sure are waiting for us beyond your study. Fortunately for you, I have no intention of taking any lives today – I’m not ignorant enough to think killing you won’t turn the entire continent on its head.”
Anilay is ready. He’s tethered to me now.
Good. Be at the ready. This won’t take much longer.
“Then you must surrender,” said Mede. “The game is up and if you truly wish to avoid bloodshed, then I command you to lay down your weapons.”
‘You misunderstand me,” replied Cain. “We have no desire to submit to whatever false promises of fair treatment you will no doubt offer us. I have the orb now, and we hold all the cards. You and your grunts here are the only ones that know of our presence, and I seriously doubt the Elder Council will care about what your indoctrinated soldiers have to say on the matter, which only leaves your account of this event. And when you leave this room empty handed, I doubt any of them will believe the ravings of a paranoid old man.”
“There is no way out, you damn fool!” shouted Mede, angrily. “Only through us can you go, and you’ve already admitted you will not attack me. Lay down your weapons and submit and I will make sure you get a fair trial.”
It’s time to go, love, thought Cain.
“That’s an enticing offer,” said Cain, “But I think we’ll take a different option.”
He casted the recall spell with a destination in mind and tried his best not cackle aloud at the look of shock on the Emperor’s tired face. The familiar vortex of purplish magickal energies enveloped all three of them and within seconds they stood in the basement room of Luther Broad’s Boarding House. Cain felt Anska loosen her grip on his bag and was pleased to see that Anilay looked no worse for the wear.
“That wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as I expected it to be,” said the High Chancellor. He took a seat and poured a large glass of wine from the bottle Cain and Anska had left on the table the night before.
“You should come with us, Anilay,” said Cain. “My family can protect you.”
“I appreciate the offer, my friend, but it’s not necessary. You handled that situation masterfully and painted Mede into a corner. He doesn’t know I had the Council’s backing, nor did he expect to leave empty-handed. No one will believe him that we were ever there and I can stroll back into the Tower tomorrow morning as if nothing happened. I’ll rent a room here tonight and if anyone asks, I’ll just say I had a few too many drinks!”
“Then this is where we part ways,” said Cain. “Please keep in touch – I’m sure we can help each other in the future.”
“Without a doubt,” answered Anilay. “You can expect a frequent correspondence from myself and the council. I’ve no doubt they will seek a direct line of communication with your father, too.”
Cain offered him a hand and Anilay gladly shook it. And then, to the Imperial’s surprise, Anska guided him to his feet and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you for helping us. I’m sorry if I came off as ungrateful at any time.”
“Think nothing of it, miss. Now please, get out of here before a stranger happens along!”
Anska laced her fingers through Cain’s and they disappeared once again.
This time, they materialized hundreds of miles to the north, in a familiar room deep within the Blue Palace. Little had changed from when they’d left long ago, and the ancient scroll of Ysgramor’s lineage still laid unfurled on the table at the center of the room. But unlike last time, the room was empty and all seemed quiet at the late hour it was. Cain felt the adrenaline from their completed quest begin to wear off, and the exhaustion of a long, tense day finally set in.
Anska read his mind and together they decided that news of their return could wait until the morning. They set off through the empty stone corridors for the bedroom they’d shared during a happier time, and were grateful to make it there un-accosted by family, palatial staff, or guards. Their boots still smelling of rank sewer water, Cain and Anska kicked them off outside the bedroom door and left them in the hallway to keep their bedroom from smelling terribly while they tried to sleep.
Cain shut the door and locked it, and after a hasty undressing of their armors, they crashed into the waiting bed and fell asleep almost immediately, the cask containing Vaermina’s Orb shoved into a wardrobe near the window.
Only four hours had passed until a loud commotion outside the bedroom door could be heard, followed by heavy thumps on the stout wooden door. Grumbling and cursing from lack of sleep, Cain got out of bed and pulled on a clean shirt, and fresh trousers before shuffling over to the door and unlocking it.
Linneá bustled into the room right away and nearly tackled him to the ground with a ferocious embrace. “When the hell did you two get back here?!” she half shouted, pounding him on the back in delight. “And why didn’t you wake us up!”
“It was very late, Linn, and we were exhausted,” mumbled Cain. “What time is it anyway? Feels like I was only out for a couple of hours.”
Serana joined them in the bedroom next and offered a gentler hug of her own. “It’s about six o’clock, Cain. And it’s good to see you two back here.” She glanced over at Anska who was still buried deeply in the soft down blanket, refusing to be disturbed. “Don’t we get a hug from you, dear?” Serana called to her.
“[censored] off,” said Anska. “It’s too early for this. I love you both, but if you want a hug then you are going to have to climb in here with me.”
Laughing uproariously, Linneá and Serana took her up on the offer and clambered gracefully into the bed with Anska, lying on either side of her. Shaking his head, Cain gave up sleeping any longer as a lost cause and settled for pouring himself a glass of water. Then he fished the cask out of the wardrobe he’d unceremoniously shoved it into earlier and set it on top for all to see.
The odd markings caught Serana’s eye and she quickly joined him to find out what it was. “What did you bring us, brother? Are there letters, or orders, or something like that in there?”
“I wish it were that simple,” sighed Cain. “But you’ll be pleased to know that there isn’t anyone here who betrayed us.” He unlatched the small clasp holding the cask shut and lifted it open for Serana to see. “The bastard’s been scrying with what Anilay confirmed to be the Orb of Vaermina. Mede was able to spy on us from afar, at any given time.”
Linneá jumped out of the bed to see it for herself and gasped in wonder. “Son of a bitch! It’s no wonder we couldn’t find anyone to blame! This is an incredible discovery you two – dad will be floored when he finds out that you wrestled this from the Emperor’s grasp.”
“I hope so,” said Cain. “Mede certainly wasn’t happy to see us vanish with it.”
“HE FOUND YOU TWO BREAKING INTO HIS PRIVATE QUARTERS?!” yelled Linneá. “That’s… this is… holy [censored]... what are we going to – “
“Relax, Elle,” soothed Serana. “We have our answers and we’ll deal with the fallout later, yeah? Dad’ll know what to do next.”
“Nothing will come of this anyway,” Cain assured them. “Well, except for that attack he still has planned I’m sure. But he can’t do anything about us stealing this out from under his nose. Anilay had the Elder Council’s approval for our little intrusion and the only credible witness to our presence in the White-Gold Tower was Mede himself. He’s boxed in and we took away his last toy.”
“That just makes him all the more dangerous,” frowned Serana. “C’mon Elle, we should go see mum and dad about this. We’ll need to put the guards on higher alert.”
“Anska and I will join you as soon as we can,” said Cain. “As I’m sure you already noticed, we need to get cleaned up first.”
“Come join us in dad’s study when you’re ready,” nodded Linneá. “And grab a bite to eat, too. I have a feeling we’ll be there for a while.”
With their departure, Cain shut the door and climbed back into bed. He laid himself against his fiancé’s prone form and kissed her on the cheek. Anska smiled and rolled over to face him, finally content now that they were back home safe and sound.
“Do we really have to get up already?” she asked him. “I forgot how soft these beds were and we’ve slept on the ground for so many long weeks. Can’t we just stay here the rest of the day and relax?”
“I wish we could,” said Cain. “But Linn’s right; we need to go and see everyone. Let’s go find that bath before we doze off again.”
“Ugh, fine. Toss me a shirt at least, would you? I don’t want the next person to barge in here staring at my chest.”
Cain got up from the bed once again and fished her out a clean blouse from the tall wardrobe near the door, and then set about getting fully dressed himself. A few moments later, they were headed for the nearest washroom, towels and fragrant soaps in hand. They found the nearest to be empty, and Cain locked the door so that they could enjoy the steaming waters alone.
Half of an hour later Cain and Anska donned their clean clothes once again and headed for the kitchens fully clean and smelling much more pleasant than they had for weeks. The enticing aroma of fresh baked bread wafted down the hallway leading to the kitchens and they were just about to see what they could pinch from the larders when a voice called out for them once again.
“Cain! Anska! There you two are!” Lydia bounded towards them at a speed that defied her age and embraced them each in turn. “Linn mentioned you came home last night like it wasn’t a big deal! I’m so happy you’re back and I’m sorry for what you had to go through. I can’t imagine what it was like being so far from home without being able to return! Especially you, Anska! And I heard you’re engaged now! Oh, I’m so happy I could kiss you both – to stay strong and true to each other after everything that was thrown at you. Your father and I couldn’t be prouder!”
“Geez, take a breath, mum,” laughed Cain. “The past is the past, and the girls apologized profusely for their mistake. And I’m glad to see you again, too.”
“It’s lovely to be home again, Lydia, thank you” said Anska. “It’s funny, I don’t even know when I started thinking of this place as home, but now I can’t imagine it being anywhere else.”
“Will you be heading to dad’s study with us?” Cain asked Lydia. “We’ve something important to show everyone from our trip south. And we have some other, um, unrelated news to share…”
“Of course! But you two go ahead and grab something to eat. I need to find Linn and ask her something, so we’ll meet you there later.”
Lydia took her leave and trotted off in search of her daughters while Cain and Anska stepped into the kitchen and loaded up some plates with a few ham steaks, and filled a basket with fresh fruit and two loaves of warm rye bread. Their bedroom wasn’t too far away, so they retreated back to it and ate their breakfast hastily at the small table tucked away in the corner. It was a blissfully quiet meal and the first one they had eaten in comfort since leaving Blacklight in what felt like another lifetime.
And it ended much too fast for their liking. Cain left the room to return their dishes and Anska took the opportunity to braid her hair in its normal fashion, admiring its length in the large mirror bolted to the back of the bedroom door. In the time they’d been abroad, it had grown down past her hips and now dangled just below the seat of her pants. Shaking free from her reverie, she eyed her dirty armor strewn about the floor and debated scrubbing it off and donning it while in the palace.
Cain returned empty-handed while she was debating and settled it for her by starting to wipe down his own armor. “Might as well, eh? I wish we could have it properly cleaned first, but I don’t want to be caught off-guard if Mede is foolish enough to attack us here.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” sighed Anska. “I just wish we could move on from all of this. Feels like it will never end.”
“I know what you mean,” said Cain. “Maybe Anilay and the Elder Council will be able to step in and put a stop to his madness.”
“One can only hope,” agreed Anska. She helped Cain buckle his armor on and then returned the favor. Cain sheathed his silver longsword into the scabbard on his back and handed Anska her waraxe for her to hang off the steel loop in her belt. Armed and ready, they headed for Kirin’s private study for a much-anticipated family reunion.
The silence in the antechamber was deafening, but Cain found that he was still confidently relaxed for such a dire situation. He noted the two agents and assumed that many more would be waiting for them to try and escape back down the grand staircase. That suited him just fine as they had no intention of leaving that way. Then he felt Anska gently loop a hand through the strap on his bag and hoped that Anilay would remember to do something similar.
What are you waiting for? asked Anska, silently. Get us the hell out of here now!
We can’t leave Anilay behind; Mede will never let him leave this room alive. And I don’t think the pompous old fool knows that we can teleport away at the drop of a hat. I’m going to stall for time… see if you can subtly get Anilay’s attention and make sure he is ready.
Just then, Mede decided to break the ice. “So, have you nothing to say for yourself, Anilay? Years of loyal service and it all ends with treason against your Emperor? The council respects you very highly, but they will not take kindly to these actions.”
“What makes you think he is here of his own volition?” countered Cain. “Perhaps I’ve coerced him into helping us track down your little toy here? He certainly doesn’t have the physical might to stand against a Dragonborn.”
“Be silent, dog,” Mede spat. “Your kind aren’t clever enough to pull of such a stunt without inside help. I can’t believe you were foolish enough to think you’d walk out of here with my orb, let alone with your lives.”
“Ah, but there’s the rub,” said Cain. “You’re smart enough to recognize that no amount of Penitus Occulatus grunts can withstand the Voice. If we wanted to leave, we would tear right through you three and all those that I’m sure are waiting for us beyond your study. Fortunately for you, I have no intention of taking any lives today – I’m not ignorant enough to think killing you won’t turn the entire continent on its head.”
Anilay is ready. He’s tethered to me now.
Good. Be at the ready. This won’t take much longer.
“Then you must surrender,” said Mede. “The game is up and if you truly wish to avoid bloodshed, then I command you to lay down your weapons.”
‘You misunderstand me,” replied Cain. “We have no desire to submit to whatever false promises of fair treatment you will no doubt offer us. I have the orb now, and we hold all the cards. You and your grunts here are the only ones that know of our presence, and I seriously doubt the Elder Council will care about what your indoctrinated soldiers have to say on the matter, which only leaves your account of this event. And when you leave this room empty handed, I doubt any of them will believe the ravings of a paranoid old man.”
“There is no way out, you damn fool!” shouted Mede, angrily. “Only through us can you go, and you’ve already admitted you will not attack me. Lay down your weapons and submit and I will make sure you get a fair trial.”
It’s time to go, love, thought Cain.
“That’s an enticing offer,” said Cain, “But I think we’ll take a different option.”
He casted the recall spell with a destination in mind and tried his best not cackle aloud at the look of shock on the Emperor’s tired face. The familiar vortex of purplish magickal energies enveloped all three of them and within seconds they stood in the basement room of Luther Broad’s Boarding House. Cain felt Anska loosen her grip on his bag and was pleased to see that Anilay looked no worse for the wear.
“That wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as I expected it to be,” said the High Chancellor. He took a seat and poured a large glass of wine from the bottle Cain and Anska had left on the table the night before.
“You should come with us, Anilay,” said Cain. “My family can protect you.”
“I appreciate the offer, my friend, but it’s not necessary. You handled that situation masterfully and painted Mede into a corner. He doesn’t know I had the Council’s backing, nor did he expect to leave empty-handed. No one will believe him that we were ever there and I can stroll back into the Tower tomorrow morning as if nothing happened. I’ll rent a room here tonight and if anyone asks, I’ll just say I had a few too many drinks!”
“Then this is where we part ways,” said Cain. “Please keep in touch – I’m sure we can help each other in the future.”
“Without a doubt,” answered Anilay. “You can expect a frequent correspondence from myself and the council. I’ve no doubt they will seek a direct line of communication with your father, too.”
Cain offered him a hand and Anilay gladly shook it. And then, to the Imperial’s surprise, Anska guided him to his feet and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you for helping us. I’m sorry if I came off as ungrateful at any time.”
“Think nothing of it, miss. Now please, get out of here before a stranger happens along!”
Anska laced her fingers through Cain’s and they disappeared once again.
-----
This time, they materialized hundreds of miles to the north, in a familiar room deep within the Blue Palace. Little had changed from when they’d left long ago, and the ancient scroll of Ysgramor’s lineage still laid unfurled on the table at the center of the room. But unlike last time, the room was empty and all seemed quiet at the late hour it was. Cain felt the adrenaline from their completed quest begin to wear off, and the exhaustion of a long, tense day finally set in.
Anska read his mind and together they decided that news of their return could wait until the morning. They set off through the empty stone corridors for the bedroom they’d shared during a happier time, and were grateful to make it there un-accosted by family, palatial staff, or guards. Their boots still smelling of rank sewer water, Cain and Anska kicked them off outside the bedroom door and left them in the hallway to keep their bedroom from smelling terribly while they tried to sleep.
Cain shut the door and locked it, and after a hasty undressing of their armors, they crashed into the waiting bed and fell asleep almost immediately, the cask containing Vaermina’s Orb shoved into a wardrobe near the window.
Only four hours had passed until a loud commotion outside the bedroom door could be heard, followed by heavy thumps on the stout wooden door. Grumbling and cursing from lack of sleep, Cain got out of bed and pulled on a clean shirt, and fresh trousers before shuffling over to the door and unlocking it.
Linneá bustled into the room right away and nearly tackled him to the ground with a ferocious embrace. “When the hell did you two get back here?!” she half shouted, pounding him on the back in delight. “And why didn’t you wake us up!”
“It was very late, Linn, and we were exhausted,” mumbled Cain. “What time is it anyway? Feels like I was only out for a couple of hours.”
Serana joined them in the bedroom next and offered a gentler hug of her own. “It’s about six o’clock, Cain. And it’s good to see you two back here.” She glanced over at Anska who was still buried deeply in the soft down blanket, refusing to be disturbed. “Don’t we get a hug from you, dear?” Serana called to her.
“[censored] off,” said Anska. “It’s too early for this. I love you both, but if you want a hug then you are going to have to climb in here with me.”
Laughing uproariously, Linneá and Serana took her up on the offer and clambered gracefully into the bed with Anska, lying on either side of her. Shaking his head, Cain gave up sleeping any longer as a lost cause and settled for pouring himself a glass of water. Then he fished the cask out of the wardrobe he’d unceremoniously shoved it into earlier and set it on top for all to see.
The odd markings caught Serana’s eye and she quickly joined him to find out what it was. “What did you bring us, brother? Are there letters, or orders, or something like that in there?”
“I wish it were that simple,” sighed Cain. “But you’ll be pleased to know that there isn’t anyone here who betrayed us.” He unlatched the small clasp holding the cask shut and lifted it open for Serana to see. “The bastard’s been scrying with what Anilay confirmed to be the Orb of Vaermina. Mede was able to spy on us from afar, at any given time.”
Linneá jumped out of the bed to see it for herself and gasped in wonder. “Son of a bitch! It’s no wonder we couldn’t find anyone to blame! This is an incredible discovery you two – dad will be floored when he finds out that you wrestled this from the Emperor’s grasp.”
“I hope so,” said Cain. “Mede certainly wasn’t happy to see us vanish with it.”
“HE FOUND YOU TWO BREAKING INTO HIS PRIVATE QUARTERS?!” yelled Linneá. “That’s… this is… holy [censored]... what are we going to – “
“Relax, Elle,” soothed Serana. “We have our answers and we’ll deal with the fallout later, yeah? Dad’ll know what to do next.”
“Nothing will come of this anyway,” Cain assured them. “Well, except for that attack he still has planned I’m sure. But he can’t do anything about us stealing this out from under his nose. Anilay had the Elder Council’s approval for our little intrusion and the only credible witness to our presence in the White-Gold Tower was Mede himself. He’s boxed in and we took away his last toy.”
“That just makes him all the more dangerous,” frowned Serana. “C’mon Elle, we should go see mum and dad about this. We’ll need to put the guards on higher alert.”
“Anska and I will join you as soon as we can,” said Cain. “As I’m sure you already noticed, we need to get cleaned up first.”
“Come join us in dad’s study when you’re ready,” nodded Linneá. “And grab a bite to eat, too. I have a feeling we’ll be there for a while.”
With their departure, Cain shut the door and climbed back into bed. He laid himself against his fiancé’s prone form and kissed her on the cheek. Anska smiled and rolled over to face him, finally content now that they were back home safe and sound.
“Do we really have to get up already?” she asked him. “I forgot how soft these beds were and we’ve slept on the ground for so many long weeks. Can’t we just stay here the rest of the day and relax?”
“I wish we could,” said Cain. “But Linn’s right; we need to go and see everyone. Let’s go find that bath before we doze off again.”
“Ugh, fine. Toss me a shirt at least, would you? I don’t want the next person to barge in here staring at my chest.”
Cain got up from the bed once again and fished her out a clean blouse from the tall wardrobe near the door, and then set about getting fully dressed himself. A few moments later, they were headed for the nearest washroom, towels and fragrant soaps in hand. They found the nearest to be empty, and Cain locked the door so that they could enjoy the steaming waters alone.
Half of an hour later Cain and Anska donned their clean clothes once again and headed for the kitchens fully clean and smelling much more pleasant than they had for weeks. The enticing aroma of fresh baked bread wafted down the hallway leading to the kitchens and they were just about to see what they could pinch from the larders when a voice called out for them once again.
“Cain! Anska! There you two are!” Lydia bounded towards them at a speed that defied her age and embraced them each in turn. “Linn mentioned you came home last night like it wasn’t a big deal! I’m so happy you’re back and I’m sorry for what you had to go through. I can’t imagine what it was like being so far from home without being able to return! Especially you, Anska! And I heard you’re engaged now! Oh, I’m so happy I could kiss you both – to stay strong and true to each other after everything that was thrown at you. Your father and I couldn’t be prouder!”
“Geez, take a breath, mum,” laughed Cain. “The past is the past, and the girls apologized profusely for their mistake. And I’m glad to see you again, too.”
“It’s lovely to be home again, Lydia, thank you” said Anska. “It’s funny, I don’t even know when I started thinking of this place as home, but now I can’t imagine it being anywhere else.”
“Will you be heading to dad’s study with us?” Cain asked Lydia. “We’ve something important to show everyone from our trip south. And we have some other, um, unrelated news to share…”
“Of course! But you two go ahead and grab something to eat. I need to find Linn and ask her something, so we’ll meet you there later.”
Lydia took her leave and trotted off in search of her daughters while Cain and Anska stepped into the kitchen and loaded up some plates with a few ham steaks, and filled a basket with fresh fruit and two loaves of warm rye bread. Their bedroom wasn’t too far away, so they retreated back to it and ate their breakfast hastily at the small table tucked away in the corner. It was a blissfully quiet meal and the first one they had eaten in comfort since leaving Blacklight in what felt like another lifetime.
And it ended much too fast for their liking. Cain left the room to return their dishes and Anska took the opportunity to braid her hair in its normal fashion, admiring its length in the large mirror bolted to the back of the bedroom door. In the time they’d been abroad, it had grown down past her hips and now dangled just below the seat of her pants. Shaking free from her reverie, she eyed her dirty armor strewn about the floor and debated scrubbing it off and donning it while in the palace.
Cain returned empty-handed while she was debating and settled it for her by starting to wipe down his own armor. “Might as well, eh? I wish we could have it properly cleaned first, but I don’t want to be caught off-guard if Mede is foolish enough to attack us here.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” sighed Anska. “I just wish we could move on from all of this. Feels like it will never end.”
“I know what you mean,” said Cain. “Maybe Anilay and the Elder Council will be able to step in and put a stop to his madness.”
“One can only hope,” agreed Anska. She helped Cain buckle his armor on and then returned the favor. Cain sheathed his silver longsword into the scabbard on his back and handed Anska her waraxe for her to hang off the steel loop in her belt. Armed and ready, they headed for Kirin’s private study for a much-anticipated family reunion.
Masterfully done, Cain!
Everybody out safely with Vaermina’s orb in hand. I hadn’t thought about their destination but just assumed it would be far away – Anvil or perhaps even the Blue Palace, but Cain was right to recall to a safe spot within the Imperial City and sort out the next move with Anilay. Nice to know that Anilay should be able to manage the Council as well as Mede. Without the Council or his Orb, Mede’s days should be numbered. Hopefully.
Home to the Blue Palace and family! I’m sure Kirin will want to change the palace’s security arrangements – guard postings, routes, timing, etc to remove the accuracy/currency of anything Mede gained from his scrying. Ironically, it seems Cain and his clan now have a great source of intelligence inside the White Gold Tower in Anilay. And possible use of that orb? Oh, and it will be fun to hear all the news, ranging from a wedding and baby Nord on the way, to Linneá’s new little wild elf.
Everybody out safely with Vaermina’s orb in hand. I hadn’t thought about their destination but just assumed it would be far away – Anvil or perhaps even the Blue Palace, but Cain was right to recall to a safe spot within the Imperial City and sort out the next move with Anilay. Nice to know that Anilay should be able to manage the Council as well as Mede. Without the Council or his Orb, Mede’s days should be numbered. Hopefully.
Home to the Blue Palace and family! I’m sure Kirin will want to change the palace’s security arrangements – guard postings, routes, timing, etc to remove the accuracy/currency of anything Mede gained from his scrying. Ironically, it seems Cain and his clan now have a great source of intelligence inside the White Gold Tower in Anilay. And possible use of that orb? Oh, and it will be fun to hear all the news, ranging from a wedding and baby Nord on the way, to Linneá’s new little wild elf.
Thanks, Acadian! It was fun to write their encounter and escape from the Tower, but not nearly as satisfying as the return home. So much to catch up on indeed!
Chapter XXXV – Shattered
Cain and Anska had just stepped out into the hallway when a voice called out for them once again. This time it was Linneá flagging them down, with a familiar young elf in tow. The young one stared at Cain with wide eyes, looking slightly apprehensive at his presence.
“Well, you two certainly look much better after a bath and a stout breakfast,” approved Linneá. She bent over and pick up Salihn, holding her close while she properly introduced them for the first time. “You remember this little devil, don’t you? Cain, Anska: meet Salihn. She’s been staying with Serana and I for a little bit now while she acclimates to her new life. Salihn, this is your Uncle Cain and Auntie Anska. Do you remember them from when we found you?”
Salihn buried her face against Linneá’s blouse for a few seconds and then peeked out at them. Cain and Anska both smiled at her and gave a little wave while she looked them over. “You’re the ones I was following in the woods. I remember you seeing me but I ran off and then woke up back here.”
“You bumped into a tree, little one,” said Cain. “I found you and carried you back with me, and then my sisters took you home.”
Linneá lowered her back to the floor and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “Are you my family now, too?” asked Salihn, her innocent eyes staring hopefully at them.
“Of course we are,” said Anska, kneeling down to meet her at eye level. “We’ll try to be the best aunt and uncle you’ll ever have.”
“Yay!” squealed Salihn, throwing herself into Anska’s waiting arms. They hugged tightly for a moment at the same time Cain caught Linneá’s eye and saw her brush away a happy tear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have guessed his sisters were well on the way to adopting the orphaned Ayleid as their own daughter, and he couldn’t be happier for them. Their family was growing, bit by bit.
Anska let go of Salihn who then gave Cain a hug too, before Linneá grabbed her hand and led her off in search of Sybille. “I’ll catch up with you in dad’s study, just gotta let Sybille look after the munchkin while we’re in there.”
They waved goodbye to Salihn again and then trudged off towards the upper reaches of the Blue Palace. “You saw it too, didn’t you?” Anska asked him. “The way Linn was doting on her, I mean. I think Salihn wormed her way into your sister’s heart, Cain. Looks like we’ll all be parents soon!”
“Couldn’t miss it,” he nodded. “Do you think we should tell everyone this morning? About your, er, condition?”
“My ‘condition’”? said Anska, rolling her eyes. “That’s seriously how you put it?” I’m pregnant you daft fool, I’m not dying.”
“I know, I know,” chuckled Cain.
“And yes, I do think we should tell them. I nearly blurted it out twice already! Once to Linn and Serana, and then again to Lydia.”
“Today’s the day, then!”
Cain threw his arm around her shoulder and they walked side-by-side up through the now bustling corridors of their cozy home. Palace staff came and went, performing their usual upkeep on the expansive home to Skyrim’s High King. Guards patrolled up and down the wide stone hallways, checking rooms and closets while they went. Cain noticed there were more about than usual, most likely due to the possible attack Anilay had warned them of a few nights ago.
Eventually, they found themselves outside of Kirin’s study, idling nervously. It had been so long since the last time he’d seen his father, and so much had changed. Cain took a few deep breaths while Anska tried to flatten the creases of the cloth fringes lining her cuirass plate. “Are you ready?” she asked him.
“Ready as I’m going to be,” said Cain. He reached for the door knob and gave it a turn. The door was unlocked, so he swung it open and together they stepped into the room, wondering how long this debrief would last.
“There you are!” yelled Kirin. “About time you two sauntered up here to see me!” He came around the desk and Cain found himself in another embrace. The fifth one of the day, and it was barely mid-morning. Kirin released him and offered a hug to Anska, too, who happily accepted it. “And I hear you are going to be my daughter!” Then he stepped back and looked gravely at Cain’s fiancé. “Words can’t begin to express how sorry I am for what we put you through, Anska. Neither of you deserved that.”
“It’s fine, really,” said Anska, brushing away a tear. “The girls made a mistake and they apologized at the first chance they got. I’ve forgiven them and it’s time to move on.”
“You’re wise beyond your years, lass,” said Kirin. “And I’ll expect you to keep my son in line, yeah?”
“Oh, he’s helpless, I’m afraid,” laughed Anska.
Cain shook his head sighed while he sat down in one of the chairs facing across Kirin’s desk, waiting patiently for others to join them. Little had changed since they were last here, having a small get-together late at night before leaving for Stonehills and ultimately Blacklight. He remembered the feeling of anticipation at getting out into the world again but had never dreamed of where it would take he and Anska.
She sat down next to him and Kirin took the seat opposite, staring curiously at him. “Everything alright, son?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” answered Cain. “Just reminiscing a little.”
Their conversation was interrupted when the door opened again and this time Linneá and Serana entered and took the other two seats near Lydia’s empty chaise. Kirin nodded at them and addressed the former first. “Did you take care of the item?”
“Yep! The orb is safely stashed away at Elysium until we figure out what to do with it.”
“If I may,” said Cain. “Anilay suggested we promptly destroy it and I’m inclined to agree with him. That thing is too powerful of an object to risk falling into the wrong hands again.”
“And we will,” promised Serana. “As soon as we figure out how to destroy a Daedric artifact. That’s not an easy task to carry out.”
“If anyone can figure that out, it will be you two,” said Kirin. “See if Kyne can help out somehow when she returns.”
“Returns?” asked Anska. “Where did she go?”
“Some kind of council meeting in Aetherius. She wouldn’t say what for, but she’s never made us privy to the musings of the other Divines. And for good reason, too. The less we know of what goes on beyond our realm, the better.”
Cain was about to ask his father a question regarding communication with Anilay when an odd noise echoed up the long hallway leading to the study. Glancing at the others to see if they heard it too, he got up from his seat and pulled the door open, straining his ears to pick out the source. All was mostly quiet, and he was about to sit back down when he heard it again.
A panicked scream, coming from somewhere deep in the palace.
“Something is going on,” he said to the others. “Fan out and search for anything out of the ordinary.” Liineá and Serana took the lead and darted out of sight while Anska joined Cain’s side. He looked back at Kirin: “You should stay here, dad. Keep the door locked until we figure out what’s going on.”
“The hell I will,” growled Kirin. “You are all under my protection and I’ll damn well help defend my home!” The High King grabbed his trusty runic sword from its plaque on the wall and followed them out of the room.
More screams could be heard in the distance, causing them to double their pace. Guards started darting to and fro in search of the commotion, and one of them came running up to the Kirin, panting heavily from exertion. “My lord! We’re under attack! Brigands are pouring in the front doors and up from the tunnel systems!”
“Brigands?” said Kirin. “They aren’t organized enough to pull off a stunt like this. You must be mistaken, captain!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said the Captain. “But they certainly are wearing the armor of brigands. They’re all draped in hides and shoddy iron cuirasses, swinging pitted swords about and yelling wildly. Some were even slinging around destruction spells with ill regard!”
“I don’t like it,” Cain frowned. “This screams of someone trying to couch a coordinated invasion under the guise of some sort of bandit uprising. I think we finally pissed off Mede too much and he executed his plan before the Elder Council could intervene.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” said Kirin. “And he’ll come to regret this cowardly move. Captain, have you seen my wife recently?”
“Aye, sir. She was down near the main kitchen with Sybille and the elf girl not five minutes ago.”
Cain turned to Anska shot her an imploring look. “Please go find my mother and get them to safety. Stuff them in a larder or hide them in a wardrobe – just get them out of harm’s way!”
Anska nodded, recognizing that she couldn’t argue her way out of this one. Her fiancé was heir to the throne and he had a duty to defend the palace with his father. It was an order this time, not a suggestion. “I love you,” she whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she plucked her waraxe free from her belt and darted down the hall to the nearest stairwell.
“Captain, rally the men and get the palace staff to safety,” ordered Kirin. “My family will make quick work of these invaders, but do what you can to capture a few of them, too. We’ll need to confirm their true identities when this is over.”
The captain moved off and together the High King and his son headed towards the public areas of the Blue Palace, growing closer and closer to the terrible sounds of battle. They crashed through a heavy door into the throne room and were stunned to see the number of attackers filling the lofty space, with more coming in the front doors. At least a score had fallen already to the capable guards defending the throne, but more were well on the way. Cain was about to leap over the banister and join the fray when a powerfully magickal inferno buffeted towards the Blue Palace entrance and immolated the brigands who had been clawing their way through.
Linneá scurried through the mayhem and sealed the doors with a spell before spinning on her heels and diving back into the fray, her dark tanto slashing and thrusting while she unleashed spell after spell on the poorly matched brutes.
“I think she’s got this,” grinned Kirin. “Come, let’s find Serana and see if she needs help. I’d bet anything she is down near the tunnel and sewer entrances.”
They backtracked further into the depths of the palace, descending staircase after staircase. The occasional attacker who’d made it past the initial battle scenes stood before them but were no match for the two seasoned warriors and Dragonborns. Guards were moving about everywhere they looked, ushering staff members and the rare civilian to safe holding rooms and guarding the doors with their lives.
Down and down they went, dispatching more brigands along the way until finally Cain and Kirin reached the bottom floor. Kicking open a heavy door to the main passageway, it was Cain’s turn to grin at the sight that greeted them. Serana’s distinct silhouette was encircled with a thunderous cloak of storms, and both of her hands were summoning ahoard of undead minions, and reanimating fallen soldiers to rejoin the battle. A few palace guards ringed around her for protection but it seemed like there was little for them to do. A score of bodies already lined the hall between them and the tunnel entrance Cain had been brought through the night he learned of his place in the world.
“We aren’t need here, either,” said Cain. “Let’s go check the gardens.”
“Good idea,” said Kirin. “Lead on, my son!”
Back up the stairs they went, heading for the serene palace gardens far above their heads. As a testament to the power of his sisters and the capability of the guards, Cain noticed that fewer and fewer attackers seemed to be crashing down corridors and into rooms. It was only the rare stragglers they cut down now, but the din of another battle could soon be heard ahead of them.
“It sounds like they need help in the gardens after all,” shouted Kirin, picking up his pace. Cain followed suite and they bolted outside to discover the guard contingent being pushed back by invaders that had somehow scaled the walls.
At the sight of their king, the guards rallied around him and regrouped to press forward the attack. Cain and Kirin simultaneously invoked their imposing Dragon Aspect shout, the echo of dual Thu’ums thundering through the air around them and striking fear into the hearts of the attackers. Together, the father and son led the counterattack and all who stood before them were driven back without quarter. Their swords blurred through the air with the unnatural speed and strength of the Shout imbuing their spirits, and within a few minutes every last brigand lay dead on the ground.
The guards cheered and roared battle cries in glory of their victory while Cain and Kirin sheathed their swords and dispelled their fearsome Thu’um aspects. A lieutenant from the dwindled ranks stepped forward and asked what their next orders would be.
“Secure the perimeter and then go assist whoever you can with keeping the staff safe,” ordered Kirin. “My daughters have the entry points contained. Cain and I will comb the palace for stragglers.”
“Aye, sir,” saluted the lieutenant.
They stepped back inside just in time to catch another guard running full tilt down the hallway in search of the King. “There you are, milord. The captain sent me with news – the attack has been broken and the remaining invaders are being rounded up. The city guard is here now too, they’re turning the city upside down to root out any escapees.”
“Excellent news!” shouted Kirin, clapping him heartily on the back. “Did we take any prisoners?”
“Yes, sir. There are reports from other guards on the scene that Mrs. Serana unleashed some sort of wide-range paralysis spell down below. She had to cast the counter-spell on some of our own men, but early numbers estimate at least a dozen attackers were captured and quickly dragged off to the holding cells.”
“That certainly sounds like something she would do,” mused Cain. “What of the queen and her elf charge?” Cain stayed silent while the guard directed his answer to Kirin. In the heat of battle, he’d never thought to probe for Anska to see how she was faring. The adrenaline subsiding, he suddenly found himself fraught with worry.
Did you find them? he reached out. No answer came for a few long seconds and just when he was about to try again more forcefully, he heard her whispered answer.
Cain, I… they’re safe.
His insides froze. Something was wrong and the connection to her felt weak. Where are you?!
Storeroom next to… the… the kitchens. Please hurry, my love. I.. did my best to keep them safe… I need to see you. Please.
“We need to go,” Cain said to his father. “Now. Anska found mum and Salihn but there’s something wrong.”
Hurry, please, came a weak plea from his fiancé.
Anska, take off your ring and toss it away. I can recall to it! Anska? ANSKA?
She didn’t respond and Cain began to panic. With no other option, he grabbed Kirin’s hand and casted the spell, vanishing from the upper reaches of the Blue Palace and rematerializing in a cellar far below. They were standing in a large pantry filled with the bodies of at least fifteen dead brigands. Blood and gore coated every surface and the stench of death nearly doubled them over. A frantic weeping sound came from behind Cain and he spun around to find Lydia kneeling next to Anska.
The head of her waraxe had snapped clean off of the handle and laid on the floor next to her. Anska’s armor was destroyed - torn apart by countless sword strokes, and bludgeoned by fearsome maces, and blood seemed to be oozing from every visible part of her body. Kirin pulled his wife up to her feet and moved her away to let his son take her place.
“What happened?!” Kirin asked Lydia, gently shaking her shoulders to garner her attention.
“She… she found us after some strangers chased us down the hall,” sobbed Lydia. “Anska barred herself in here with us and refused to let any of the monsters lay a finger on me or Salihn. I hid the girl in the cabinet there and tried to help but I was unarmed and there were so many of them!” She put her head in her hands and continued weeping, unable to go on for the time being.
Cain had knelt down next to Anska and was probing her thoughts while he looked over her grievous wounds, and he felt hot tears running unchecked down his own face. Years of training in the Fighter’s Guild allowed him to recognize that no amount of potions or healing spells could replace the amount of blood she’d already lost and continued to lose. He felt the world crashing down around him as he stared helplessly at his dying fiancé and their unborn child. Leaning forward, he cradled Anska’s bruised head and blood-matted hair in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.
Then he felt her shift slightly, causing him to immediately let go and search her feature for signs of life. Her eyelids fluttered open and the beautiful brown orbs that had first enchanted him in Stonehills looked weakly back at him.
“You… you made it,” she said, her voice scratchy and barely audible. “There were too… too many of them. Are Lydia and…”
“Yes, they’re okay,” breathed Cain. “Hon, I… I can’t…”
“I know. You can’t help me. Just kiss me one last time, please.”
He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss, afraid to pull back. When he finally did, she smiled warmly at him. “I love you so much, Cain. We’ll see each other again one day in Sovngarde.” Her eyes closed again and Cain placed a hand on her chest, just as a final heartbeat thudded against his palm.
Cain and Anska had just stepped out into the hallway when a voice called out for them once again. This time it was Linneá flagging them down, with a familiar young elf in tow. The young one stared at Cain with wide eyes, looking slightly apprehensive at his presence.
“Well, you two certainly look much better after a bath and a stout breakfast,” approved Linneá. She bent over and pick up Salihn, holding her close while she properly introduced them for the first time. “You remember this little devil, don’t you? Cain, Anska: meet Salihn. She’s been staying with Serana and I for a little bit now while she acclimates to her new life. Salihn, this is your Uncle Cain and Auntie Anska. Do you remember them from when we found you?”
Salihn buried her face against Linneá’s blouse for a few seconds and then peeked out at them. Cain and Anska both smiled at her and gave a little wave while she looked them over. “You’re the ones I was following in the woods. I remember you seeing me but I ran off and then woke up back here.”
“You bumped into a tree, little one,” said Cain. “I found you and carried you back with me, and then my sisters took you home.”
Linneá lowered her back to the floor and gave her a reassuring pat on the head. “Are you my family now, too?” asked Salihn, her innocent eyes staring hopefully at them.
“Of course we are,” said Anska, kneeling down to meet her at eye level. “We’ll try to be the best aunt and uncle you’ll ever have.”
“Yay!” squealed Salihn, throwing herself into Anska’s waiting arms. They hugged tightly for a moment at the same time Cain caught Linneá’s eye and saw her brush away a happy tear. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have guessed his sisters were well on the way to adopting the orphaned Ayleid as their own daughter, and he couldn’t be happier for them. Their family was growing, bit by bit.
Anska let go of Salihn who then gave Cain a hug too, before Linneá grabbed her hand and led her off in search of Sybille. “I’ll catch up with you in dad’s study, just gotta let Sybille look after the munchkin while we’re in there.”
They waved goodbye to Salihn again and then trudged off towards the upper reaches of the Blue Palace. “You saw it too, didn’t you?” Anska asked him. “The way Linn was doting on her, I mean. I think Salihn wormed her way into your sister’s heart, Cain. Looks like we’ll all be parents soon!”
“Couldn’t miss it,” he nodded. “Do you think we should tell everyone this morning? About your, er, condition?”
“My ‘condition’”? said Anska, rolling her eyes. “That’s seriously how you put it?” I’m pregnant you daft fool, I’m not dying.”
“I know, I know,” chuckled Cain.
“And yes, I do think we should tell them. I nearly blurted it out twice already! Once to Linn and Serana, and then again to Lydia.”
“Today’s the day, then!”
Cain threw his arm around her shoulder and they walked side-by-side up through the now bustling corridors of their cozy home. Palace staff came and went, performing their usual upkeep on the expansive home to Skyrim’s High King. Guards patrolled up and down the wide stone hallways, checking rooms and closets while they went. Cain noticed there were more about than usual, most likely due to the possible attack Anilay had warned them of a few nights ago.
Eventually, they found themselves outside of Kirin’s study, idling nervously. It had been so long since the last time he’d seen his father, and so much had changed. Cain took a few deep breaths while Anska tried to flatten the creases of the cloth fringes lining her cuirass plate. “Are you ready?” she asked him.
“Ready as I’m going to be,” said Cain. He reached for the door knob and gave it a turn. The door was unlocked, so he swung it open and together they stepped into the room, wondering how long this debrief would last.
“There you are!” yelled Kirin. “About time you two sauntered up here to see me!” He came around the desk and Cain found himself in another embrace. The fifth one of the day, and it was barely mid-morning. Kirin released him and offered a hug to Anska, too, who happily accepted it. “And I hear you are going to be my daughter!” Then he stepped back and looked gravely at Cain’s fiancé. “Words can’t begin to express how sorry I am for what we put you through, Anska. Neither of you deserved that.”
“It’s fine, really,” said Anska, brushing away a tear. “The girls made a mistake and they apologized at the first chance they got. I’ve forgiven them and it’s time to move on.”
“You’re wise beyond your years, lass,” said Kirin. “And I’ll expect you to keep my son in line, yeah?”
“Oh, he’s helpless, I’m afraid,” laughed Anska.
Cain shook his head sighed while he sat down in one of the chairs facing across Kirin’s desk, waiting patiently for others to join them. Little had changed since they were last here, having a small get-together late at night before leaving for Stonehills and ultimately Blacklight. He remembered the feeling of anticipation at getting out into the world again but had never dreamed of where it would take he and Anska.
She sat down next to him and Kirin took the seat opposite, staring curiously at him. “Everything alright, son?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” answered Cain. “Just reminiscing a little.”
Their conversation was interrupted when the door opened again and this time Linneá and Serana entered and took the other two seats near Lydia’s empty chaise. Kirin nodded at them and addressed the former first. “Did you take care of the item?”
“Yep! The orb is safely stashed away at Elysium until we figure out what to do with it.”
“If I may,” said Cain. “Anilay suggested we promptly destroy it and I’m inclined to agree with him. That thing is too powerful of an object to risk falling into the wrong hands again.”
“And we will,” promised Serana. “As soon as we figure out how to destroy a Daedric artifact. That’s not an easy task to carry out.”
“If anyone can figure that out, it will be you two,” said Kirin. “See if Kyne can help out somehow when she returns.”
“Returns?” asked Anska. “Where did she go?”
“Some kind of council meeting in Aetherius. She wouldn’t say what for, but she’s never made us privy to the musings of the other Divines. And for good reason, too. The less we know of what goes on beyond our realm, the better.”
Cain was about to ask his father a question regarding communication with Anilay when an odd noise echoed up the long hallway leading to the study. Glancing at the others to see if they heard it too, he got up from his seat and pulled the door open, straining his ears to pick out the source. All was mostly quiet, and he was about to sit back down when he heard it again.
A panicked scream, coming from somewhere deep in the palace.
“Something is going on,” he said to the others. “Fan out and search for anything out of the ordinary.” Liineá and Serana took the lead and darted out of sight while Anska joined Cain’s side. He looked back at Kirin: “You should stay here, dad. Keep the door locked until we figure out what’s going on.”
“The hell I will,” growled Kirin. “You are all under my protection and I’ll damn well help defend my home!” The High King grabbed his trusty runic sword from its plaque on the wall and followed them out of the room.
More screams could be heard in the distance, causing them to double their pace. Guards started darting to and fro in search of the commotion, and one of them came running up to the Kirin, panting heavily from exertion. “My lord! We’re under attack! Brigands are pouring in the front doors and up from the tunnel systems!”
“Brigands?” said Kirin. “They aren’t organized enough to pull off a stunt like this. You must be mistaken, captain!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said the Captain. “But they certainly are wearing the armor of brigands. They’re all draped in hides and shoddy iron cuirasses, swinging pitted swords about and yelling wildly. Some were even slinging around destruction spells with ill regard!”
“I don’t like it,” Cain frowned. “This screams of someone trying to couch a coordinated invasion under the guise of some sort of bandit uprising. I think we finally pissed off Mede too much and he executed his plan before the Elder Council could intervene.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” said Kirin. “And he’ll come to regret this cowardly move. Captain, have you seen my wife recently?”
“Aye, sir. She was down near the main kitchen with Sybille and the elf girl not five minutes ago.”
Cain turned to Anska shot her an imploring look. “Please go find my mother and get them to safety. Stuff them in a larder or hide them in a wardrobe – just get them out of harm’s way!”
Anska nodded, recognizing that she couldn’t argue her way out of this one. Her fiancé was heir to the throne and he had a duty to defend the palace with his father. It was an order this time, not a suggestion. “I love you,” she whispered, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she plucked her waraxe free from her belt and darted down the hall to the nearest stairwell.
“Captain, rally the men and get the palace staff to safety,” ordered Kirin. “My family will make quick work of these invaders, but do what you can to capture a few of them, too. We’ll need to confirm their true identities when this is over.”
The captain moved off and together the High King and his son headed towards the public areas of the Blue Palace, growing closer and closer to the terrible sounds of battle. They crashed through a heavy door into the throne room and were stunned to see the number of attackers filling the lofty space, with more coming in the front doors. At least a score had fallen already to the capable guards defending the throne, but more were well on the way. Cain was about to leap over the banister and join the fray when a powerfully magickal inferno buffeted towards the Blue Palace entrance and immolated the brigands who had been clawing their way through.
Linneá scurried through the mayhem and sealed the doors with a spell before spinning on her heels and diving back into the fray, her dark tanto slashing and thrusting while she unleashed spell after spell on the poorly matched brutes.
“I think she’s got this,” grinned Kirin. “Come, let’s find Serana and see if she needs help. I’d bet anything she is down near the tunnel and sewer entrances.”
They backtracked further into the depths of the palace, descending staircase after staircase. The occasional attacker who’d made it past the initial battle scenes stood before them but were no match for the two seasoned warriors and Dragonborns. Guards were moving about everywhere they looked, ushering staff members and the rare civilian to safe holding rooms and guarding the doors with their lives.
Down and down they went, dispatching more brigands along the way until finally Cain and Kirin reached the bottom floor. Kicking open a heavy door to the main passageway, it was Cain’s turn to grin at the sight that greeted them. Serana’s distinct silhouette was encircled with a thunderous cloak of storms, and both of her hands were summoning ahoard of undead minions, and reanimating fallen soldiers to rejoin the battle. A few palace guards ringed around her for protection but it seemed like there was little for them to do. A score of bodies already lined the hall between them and the tunnel entrance Cain had been brought through the night he learned of his place in the world.
“We aren’t need here, either,” said Cain. “Let’s go check the gardens.”
“Good idea,” said Kirin. “Lead on, my son!”
Back up the stairs they went, heading for the serene palace gardens far above their heads. As a testament to the power of his sisters and the capability of the guards, Cain noticed that fewer and fewer attackers seemed to be crashing down corridors and into rooms. It was only the rare stragglers they cut down now, but the din of another battle could soon be heard ahead of them.
“It sounds like they need help in the gardens after all,” shouted Kirin, picking up his pace. Cain followed suite and they bolted outside to discover the guard contingent being pushed back by invaders that had somehow scaled the walls.
At the sight of their king, the guards rallied around him and regrouped to press forward the attack. Cain and Kirin simultaneously invoked their imposing Dragon Aspect shout, the echo of dual Thu’ums thundering through the air around them and striking fear into the hearts of the attackers. Together, the father and son led the counterattack and all who stood before them were driven back without quarter. Their swords blurred through the air with the unnatural speed and strength of the Shout imbuing their spirits, and within a few minutes every last brigand lay dead on the ground.
The guards cheered and roared battle cries in glory of their victory while Cain and Kirin sheathed their swords and dispelled their fearsome Thu’um aspects. A lieutenant from the dwindled ranks stepped forward and asked what their next orders would be.
“Secure the perimeter and then go assist whoever you can with keeping the staff safe,” ordered Kirin. “My daughters have the entry points contained. Cain and I will comb the palace for stragglers.”
“Aye, sir,” saluted the lieutenant.
They stepped back inside just in time to catch another guard running full tilt down the hallway in search of the King. “There you are, milord. The captain sent me with news – the attack has been broken and the remaining invaders are being rounded up. The city guard is here now too, they’re turning the city upside down to root out any escapees.”
“Excellent news!” shouted Kirin, clapping him heartily on the back. “Did we take any prisoners?”
“Yes, sir. There are reports from other guards on the scene that Mrs. Serana unleashed some sort of wide-range paralysis spell down below. She had to cast the counter-spell on some of our own men, but early numbers estimate at least a dozen attackers were captured and quickly dragged off to the holding cells.”
“That certainly sounds like something she would do,” mused Cain. “What of the queen and her elf charge?” Cain stayed silent while the guard directed his answer to Kirin. In the heat of battle, he’d never thought to probe for Anska to see how she was faring. The adrenaline subsiding, he suddenly found himself fraught with worry.
Did you find them? he reached out. No answer came for a few long seconds and just when he was about to try again more forcefully, he heard her whispered answer.
Cain, I… they’re safe.
His insides froze. Something was wrong and the connection to her felt weak. Where are you?!
Storeroom next to… the… the kitchens. Please hurry, my love. I.. did my best to keep them safe… I need to see you. Please.
“We need to go,” Cain said to his father. “Now. Anska found mum and Salihn but there’s something wrong.”
Hurry, please, came a weak plea from his fiancé.
Anska, take off your ring and toss it away. I can recall to it! Anska? ANSKA?
She didn’t respond and Cain began to panic. With no other option, he grabbed Kirin’s hand and casted the spell, vanishing from the upper reaches of the Blue Palace and rematerializing in a cellar far below. They were standing in a large pantry filled with the bodies of at least fifteen dead brigands. Blood and gore coated every surface and the stench of death nearly doubled them over. A frantic weeping sound came from behind Cain and he spun around to find Lydia kneeling next to Anska.
The head of her waraxe had snapped clean off of the handle and laid on the floor next to her. Anska’s armor was destroyed - torn apart by countless sword strokes, and bludgeoned by fearsome maces, and blood seemed to be oozing from every visible part of her body. Kirin pulled his wife up to her feet and moved her away to let his son take her place.
“What happened?!” Kirin asked Lydia, gently shaking her shoulders to garner her attention.
“She… she found us after some strangers chased us down the hall,” sobbed Lydia. “Anska barred herself in here with us and refused to let any of the monsters lay a finger on me or Salihn. I hid the girl in the cabinet there and tried to help but I was unarmed and there were so many of them!” She put her head in her hands and continued weeping, unable to go on for the time being.
Cain had knelt down next to Anska and was probing her thoughts while he looked over her grievous wounds, and he felt hot tears running unchecked down his own face. Years of training in the Fighter’s Guild allowed him to recognize that no amount of potions or healing spells could replace the amount of blood she’d already lost and continued to lose. He felt the world crashing down around him as he stared helplessly at his dying fiancé and their unborn child. Leaning forward, he cradled Anska’s bruised head and blood-matted hair in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.
Then he felt her shift slightly, causing him to immediately let go and search her feature for signs of life. Her eyelids fluttered open and the beautiful brown orbs that had first enchanted him in Stonehills looked weakly back at him.
“You… you made it,” she said, her voice scratchy and barely audible. “There were too… too many of them. Are Lydia and…”
“Yes, they’re okay,” breathed Cain. “Hon, I… I can’t…”
“I know. You can’t help me. Just kiss me one last time, please.”
He leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss, afraid to pull back. When he finally did, she smiled warmly at him. “I love you so much, Cain. We’ll see each other again one day in Sovngarde.” Her eyes closed again and Cain placed a hand on her chest, just as a final heartbeat thudded against his palm.
The Divines have council meetings in Aetherius? Who knew? Makes sense though.
“You should stay here, dad. Keep the door locked until we figure out what’s going on.”
“The hell I will,” growled Kirin.
- - Ha! Kirin’s reaction to Cain’s ‘command’ was absolutely no surprise!
What a formidable family, as they put down Mede’s ill-fated attack.
Anska! Oh no, what a tragic surprise! She died a hero and in the arms of her mate, but that is scant comfort to poor Cain.
“You should stay here, dad. Keep the door locked until we figure out what’s going on.”
“The hell I will,” growled Kirin.
- - Ha! Kirin’s reaction to Cain’s ‘command’ was absolutely no surprise!
What a formidable family, as they put down Mede’s ill-fated attack.
Anska! Oh no, what a tragic surprise! She died a hero and in the arms of her mate, but that is scant comfort to poor Cain.
I've been dreading this chapter for weeks. I knew Anska's fate when I introduced her to the story and it was frustrating to stick to that while the tale unfolded. Tempted to save her so many times.
I knew Anska's fate when I introduced her to the story and it was frustrating to stick to that while the tale unfolded. Tempted to save her so many times.
Chapter XXXVI – Parting of the Ways
Cain collapsed against Anska’s prone form. The world was spinning around him and he was numb to it all while he grieved for his fiance and unborn child. The arrival of frantic footsteps and the subsequent gasps of horror barely registered to his senses. People around him were also weeping, and when he felt a gentle set of hands guide him to his feet and lead him away, Cain found that he had no strength left to protest against it. Against anything.
His feet carried him unconsciously away from the gruesome pantry. A voice he recognized as Serana’s was talking softly next to him but it might as well have been shouting across an endless meadow for all he knew. Nothing made sense. And nothing would ever be the same.
What felt like both moments and hours later, he found himself sitting at a table somewhere else in the palace with a glass of water placed in front of him. He drank it, if only because it was something else to do. Something else to think of, if only for a few seconds. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he still heard nothing of what was being said around him. Then a pale hand he recognized as Linneá’s placed a ring on the table in front of him. Their engagement ring.
“No,” he heard himself say. “It’s Anska’s and it stays with her.”
“Cain - “
“I said it stays with her.”
She picked the ring back up and her footsteps faded away. Cain wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but eventually he was joined by Kirin and Lydia. They sat down opposite from him, eyes red and swollen from the aftermath.
“Son, I...” began Kirin. “I know nothing I can say will make any of this easier. But we’re all here for you. Your mum and I will help you get through this, as will the girls. You aren’t alone, even if it may feel like you are. Anska was a wonderful woman who deserved better. You both deserved better. I think we should - ”
“You don’t understand,” said Cain, shaking his head. “Anska and I… we… we were going to share more news with you earlier. Before everything… happened.” He didn’t have any tears left to shed, but Cain rubbed at his eyes anyway. They felt raw and painful but at least it was something he felt - though it wouldn’t make the next part any easier. “Anska was pregnant.”
Lydia gasped. “No! No no no no, godsdammit! Cain, I’m so sorry. I… if I’d known I wouldn’t have let her -”
“There’s nothing you could have done, mum. Don’t blame yourself. I sent her to help you and Salihn. I sent her away from my side even after Mara warned us to stick together.”
“Mara?” asked Kirin, eyes widened with surprise. “You’ve met Mara?”
“Not now, dad. I can’t get into that.” Cain stood up and looked towards the door. “I need to go. I want to be alone for a while.” He started to move off but Linneá grabbed him and held him close. He let her hug him for a moment but he didn’t have the strength to grieve with her. She let go and he headed upstairs to the bedroom he used to share with Anska.
It was still in disarray from their late night arrival and hurried morning. Locking the door behind him, he took a look around the room and saw that one of her few remaining clean blouses had fallen to the floor near the foot of the bed. Cain sat down and picked it up, pressing it to his face. Anska’s floral scent clung to the fabric and the tears began to flow again while he sobbed into it. He laid down on the ground with it for what felt like eternity.
The sun had started to set when he heard a timid knock on the door. He ignored it and soon heard footsteps slowly fading away.
After a sleepless night Cain was wrangled from his self-imposed prison by his family. Linneá and Serana nearly pounded the door to pieces before he opened it and they dragged him downstairs to eat breakfast in a room far from the larder where he’d found Anska. He ate mechanically, nodding at the polite conversations between his sisters, Kirin, and Lydia. They danced around the subject but Cain knew it was coming.
“Look, we need to plan the funeral, my son,” said Kirin, finally. Cain blanched. He set his fork down and tried his best to meet his father’s eyes. “None of us knew Anska like you did. What would she have wanted?”
“I don’t know,” muttered Cain. “It’s not like we ever thought that prudent to discuss.”
“Husband, can’t this wait?” asked Lydia. “Give him time to breathe! Hell, we all need time to breathe!”
“It’s fine,” said Cain. Everything still felt numb. Despite the grief he’d already been through, he felt like the reality of it all was yet to set in for him.“Let’s have her cremated. Then I’ll decide what to do with her ashes some other time.” And then I can move on to… somewhere else. Anywhere else.
The silence in his head was overwhelming and caused more pain than anything else. He’d never hear Anska whispering into his thoughts again and the realization of that took him right back to how he felt kneeling over her lifeless body. Cain broke down again and had to excuse himself from the table. Lydia took his arm and guided him back to the bedroom, but didn’t say anything along the way. She seemed to understand how he felt more than the others did.
Lydia opened the door and gave him a long hug before letting him be alone. “Come help us later if you’re feeling up to it, dear. The palace is a mess and it will take days to get everything back in order. Might help distract you for a while, too.”
“I’ll try.”
He laid back down in the bed for a few hours and tried not to dwell on the deafening silence. At some point, Cain dozed off and awoke feeling somewhat refreshed and decided he would go help out. If only for a distraction, as Lydia had suggested. Turns out he didn’t have far to go. Linneá was hauling a dead invader away just one corridor over. He offered her a fake smile and picked up the dead body’s feet to help carry it out of the palace.
The body tossed onto a pile in the courtyard, they leaned against a stone column to catch their breath.
“Cain, I” began Linneá.
“Don’t bother,” Cain interjected. “I don’t need platitudes and I don’t want everyone doting over me. It won’t help.”
“I wasn’t going to,” said Linneá. “Really. I just wanted you to know how much I miss her, too. I loved her to bits and enjoyed having another sister. Just don’t forget you still have Serana and I, yeah? You’ll always have us.”
Cain nodded. “Better get back at it. I’m sure there’s plenty more to clean up in there.”
They head back inside to rejoin the cleaning efforts but were soon tracked down by Serana. “There you are, Elle! And Cain, too? I’m glad to see you out and about!”
“What’s up, hon?” asked Linneá.
“Dad’s called us all to his study for something. Wouldn’t say what, but it sounded urgent.”
The three of them went back up through the palace to Kirin’s private study. Lydia was already there waiting and just as Cain went to sit down in a chair near the back, a familiar brown hawk soared through the window. Kyne alighted down into her mortal form, her soft face streaked with tears. She nearly tackled Cain with her embrace as she dove into him.
“I just head from Linn what happened! Are you -”
“Not here, mum,” pleaded Cain. “I can’t do this again in front of everyone.”
“Then we’ll go for a walk.” She turned to look at Kirin. “You’ll have to manage without us.”
The door closed with a snap and Kirin sighed while easing himself into his chair. “I guess we will.”
“Should we wait for them?” asked Serana.
“Nah, I can sort it out with Kyne later. And I think Cain needs to take a break from politics and espionage for a while. Anything new today?”
“Aye,” said Linneá. “We found Sybille in one of the cellars... she didn’t make it.”
“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Kirin. “Two dozen guards and now Sybille as well as Anska? By the Nine, Mede will pay for this. Are we certain he was behind this?”
“Without a doubt,” said Linneá. “Ana and I, er, convinced some of the men we captured to talk this morning. Separate men in separate rooms confirmed it and their accounts of the details matched. These were Penitus Oculatus agents attacking on his orders. We can cart them before the world for all to see.”
“Were they just after us?”
“No, they wanted the orb,” said Serana. “We sort of thought that after seeing how many rooms were ransacked, but we wormed that out of them, too.”
Kirin was pleased to know that Elysium remained off the Empire’s radar. There were far more dangerous objects hidden there than Vaermina’s Orb, and they needed to remain away from prying eyes. But the loss of his court wizard stung. Sybille was wise and powerful, and had faithfully served himself and several other Jarls and Kings. Finding a new one would be no easier matter. Unless…
“Well, the orb is safe, so I guess the next order of business will be finding a new court wizard. Um, Serana?” said Kirin, clearing his throat. “Would you -”
“Absolutely not, dad. There isn’t enough brandy in the world for me to take on that job.”
Linneá giggled and then turned him down, too. “I’m out, too. Sorry, dad, but I’d rather have a dragon bite my other arm off.”
“If I can make a suggestion, though?” offered Serana. “Garan Marethi. Yes, I know he’s another vampire, but you won’t find anyone else in Tamriel more suited for the job. Plus, I’d love to have him around here. Garan is practically my uncle.”
He leaned back for a moment to stew on the idea but decided to give it more thought later. Their home was still a wreck and with Cain’s departure he’d have to cut this meeting short anyway. He glanced over at Lydia who nodded in agreement.
“Right, then let’s get back to it,” he said. “Plenty of work left to do. Go see where the staff needs you.”
Linneá and Serana left and Kirin joined Lydia on her chaise. Everyone had taken Anska’s loss hard, his wife especially. Though she wasn’t Cain’s blood mother, she had come to love him as much as she loved her own children. And Anska had been such a wonderful fit for him. But the unexpected loss of a grandchild seemed to be affecting her most of all.
“We’ll get through this, Lyds,” consoled Kirin. He brushed a new tear off of her cheek. “Together.”
Cain felt as if the bright sun and clear blue skies were mocking him. There was even a hint of brine on the air, wafting high up onto the great Solitude arch and circulating through the flower gardens. He’d spent nearly an hour talking with Kyne and while she did her best to make him feel better, nothing really came of it. The only desire he had anymore was to leave. He couldn’t stay here anymore, in the place where they would have raised a family. It was too hard.
Nor did he look forward to telling his family of his intentions. Kyne had mentioned the funeral service would be tomorrow night, and that she would be by his side for all of it. After that, he was leaving. Cain looked down at his feet where another dead brigand was laying and sighed before stooping over to gather it up.
Delicate footsteps approached from behind and he dropped the body to see who it was. “Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. The otherworldly beauty and radiance of Mara smiled sadly at him, and she raised her palms in a gesture of openness. He grunted and took a seat on earthen floor.
“I won’t bother asking how you are doing, for I know all too well,” said the goddess. “I merely offer this advice: give it time. Time can heal everything, including the sundering of love. I also sense your desire to leave this place, and while I understand, I would just ask that it not be permanent. Your family loves you, Cain. They’ll need you to heal as much as you’ll need them.”
“...I don’t know when I’ll be able to return, ma’am. The thought of being here without her. Or anywhere without her.”
“I know. Just don’t forsake them.”
She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder and then vanished from sight. A guardsman rounded the nearest corner and hesitated at the sight of Cain sitting on the ground. He got to his feet and motioned to the guard. “Give me a hand with this one. I think it’s the last.”
“Aye, sir.”
They grabbed the body, carried it off to the courtyard, and chucked it onto the loaded wagon that had been summoned from the stables. The smell coming from the pile of corpses was vile but Cain was pretty sure his latest contribution to it was the last one. A final walk-through was already underway in the palace and had thus far turned up empty. He thanked the guard and headed back to his room for the night.
He spent the next morning packing up his belongings. Linneá and Serana came by at lunch time to tell him the service was starting soon, and they left him a fresh set of dress attire. They were already wearing black dresses for the somber occasion, but had given up trying to apply makeup.
“There’s no point,” shrugged Linneá. “It just keeps getting smudged and ruined.”
“You’re still beautiful without it, Elle,” said Serana. “Get dressed and join us in the hall, brother. We’ll walk with you to the chapel.”
Cain pulled off his shirt and trousers and slipped on the new clothes. They weren’t really his style but did fit the dreadful occasion. He checked his hair in the mirror above the small wardrobe and stared briefly at the haggard reflection in it. He’d shaved for the first time in weeks this morning, but the bags under his eyes told the tale of how little sleep he was getting. The long nights alone with his own singular thoughts were agonizing and he was tempted to start brewing sleep aids. But he knew they could be addictive over time and was hesitant to go down that road.
A few minutes later he stepped out into the hall and followed his sisters out of the Blue Palace and up the sloping streets of Solitude. The Temple of the Nine was across town, near Castle Dour. A hush fell over the townsfolk milling about while they passed by, some nodding respectfully to them. It was until these moments that Cain often forgot he and his sisters were royalty.
Some citizens joined them as the walked and soon a small procession formed around the three of them. Cain’s already leaden heart grew heavier and heavier when they approached the chapel, and it took several minutes of consoling from Linneá and Serana before he could muster the strength to enter it. Kirin and Lydia waited just inside the doors with another woman Cain vaguely recognized as a disguised Kyne. They ushered everyone in and up to a pew at the front.
Anska’s remains had been placed into an ornate golden urn inlaid with beautifully flowing lines carrying delicate golden snowflakes. Cain felt the world crashing down around him once again and barely heard a word of what the priest of Arkay said during the service. When it came time to accept the urn, it took every ounce of willpower he had left to stand up and take it from the priest. The service ended with his family wiping their eyes and escorting him back to the palace together.
They made their way to Kirin’s study once again to be alone with each other for the rest of the day. Kyne had gone ahead and was waiting for them with an abundance of food and wine laid out on the desk that was normally covered with documents and missives. Kirin made a heartfelt toast in Anska’s honor and for the next hour they spoke in remembrance of her, and recounted stories from their time together. The somber affair was wrapping up for the evening when Cain decided to announce his intentions.
“I’m leaving tonight, after we’re done here.”
“Leaving?” asked a tearful Lydia. “I don’t understand, dear… where else would you go?”
“Anywhere but here. I love you all, but I can’t bear it right now. Not without her. It’s too much.”
“No, you can’t go!” pleaded Linneá. “I feel like you just got here and now you’re going to leave? I know how much you’re hurting but your place is here with us!”
“Elle, don’t do that,” warned Serana. “None of us here can pretend to know what our brother is going through. If he feels needs time alone and away from here then that’s what we should give him.” She stood up and crossed the room to give Cain a hug. “I’ll miss you dearly. Don’t stay away forever.”
Lydia wiped her eyes with a kerchief and then nodded at him. “Whatever it takes, Cain. If you feel this is something you need to do, then we won’t stop you.”
“The hell I won’t!” yelled Linneá. “If you think for five seconds that I’m going to -”
“That’s enough, Linn!” came the stern voice of Kirin. “You’re going to honor his wishes. We may not agree with them, but we have no right to keep Cain here if he wants to leave.” He joined Lydia at his son’s side and they embraced him together. “Come back when you are ready, my son. This will always be your home.”
Cain thanked them and then dried his eyes. He took a step towards Linneá to say goodbye, but she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room with an angry Serana chasing after her. Shaking his head in disbelief, he instead accepted another hug from Lydia.
“Don’t take it to heart, dear,” soothed Lydia. “She’s always had strong emotions. I’m sure Linn will come find you shortly.”
His father clapped him on the back. “Keep in touch, yeah? At least by mail if you can’t pop in. Come, we’ll walk you out – it’s the least we can do.”
“No, I’m fine, really,” said Cain. “I still need to grab my gear from the room.” He caught Kyne’s eye in the corner of the room and tried to smile at her. “You’ve been awfully quiet through all of this, mum. Don’t I get a goodbye from you too?”
“You’ll find I’m not easy to shake off, my child. We’ll see each other again.”
He shrugged and said a final goodbye to his parents before heading off for his bedroom. The halls were mostly deserted this late in the day and he didn’t run into a single person along the way. His bag waited for him at the foot of the bed, along with his sword. He stowed the urn carrying his fiance’s ashes in it and slung it over his back. Then he strapped his sword and scabbard to it and looked around the room one last time. I’ll never forget our nights here, my love.
The door closed behind him with a thud, and a few moments later he was passing by his father’s throne and descended the curved stone steps to the palace vestibule. Before he could place his hands on the door to leave, Linneá stepped out from the shadows and glared at him with her arms crossed.
“You’re seriously gonna [censored] leave? After all we’ve been through?”
“I have to, Linn,” sighed Cain. “It’s too painful.”
“Bullshit! We can help you, Cain! We can help you through this, you just have to [censored] let us! You’re not the only person whose ever lost someone, brother! Throw that damn bag down and stay! Please!”
“You don’t understand -”
“Yes, Cain, I do! We all do, that’s what I’ve been trying to te-”
“NO, YOU [censored] DON’T, LINN!” bellowed Cain. She recoiled in shock at his sudden outburst and was about to speak again when he cut her off. “Try to imagine, for just five godsdamned seconds, what it would be like, Linn, to never hear Serana’s voice in your head again. For your thoughts to be alone, echoing back at you in the void after you entwined yourself so firmly with the one you love. The one who is everything to you. The silence is unbearable, and it’s worse here, mingled with the memories.”
They stared at each other in silence for almost a full minute, until Linneá nodded and approached him again. “You’re right. It doesn’t bear to think about, Cain. I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close for a while. For a moment, he felt a curious sensation settle deep within him, but he shook it off as exhaustion from a trying day. “I love you, brother. Promise me we’ll see each other again?”
“I promise, Linn.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” They separated and Linneá smiley sadly at him. “Good luck.”
Cain nodded and headed out through the main doors into the exterior courtyard. Without looking back, he raised his hand and cast the recall spell, vanishing into thin air.
Cain collapsed against Anska’s prone form. The world was spinning around him and he was numb to it all while he grieved for his fiance and unborn child. The arrival of frantic footsteps and the subsequent gasps of horror barely registered to his senses. People around him were also weeping, and when he felt a gentle set of hands guide him to his feet and lead him away, Cain found that he had no strength left to protest against it. Against anything.
His feet carried him unconsciously away from the gruesome pantry. A voice he recognized as Serana’s was talking softly next to him but it might as well have been shouting across an endless meadow for all he knew. Nothing made sense. And nothing would ever be the same.
What felt like both moments and hours later, he found himself sitting at a table somewhere else in the palace with a glass of water placed in front of him. He drank it, if only because it was something else to do. Something else to think of, if only for a few seconds. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he still heard nothing of what was being said around him. Then a pale hand he recognized as Linneá’s placed a ring on the table in front of him. Their engagement ring.
“No,” he heard himself say. “It’s Anska’s and it stays with her.”
“Cain - “
“I said it stays with her.”
She picked the ring back up and her footsteps faded away. Cain wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but eventually he was joined by Kirin and Lydia. They sat down opposite from him, eyes red and swollen from the aftermath.
“Son, I...” began Kirin. “I know nothing I can say will make any of this easier. But we’re all here for you. Your mum and I will help you get through this, as will the girls. You aren’t alone, even if it may feel like you are. Anska was a wonderful woman who deserved better. You both deserved better. I think we should - ”
“You don’t understand,” said Cain, shaking his head. “Anska and I… we… we were going to share more news with you earlier. Before everything… happened.” He didn’t have any tears left to shed, but Cain rubbed at his eyes anyway. They felt raw and painful but at least it was something he felt - though it wouldn’t make the next part any easier. “Anska was pregnant.”
Lydia gasped. “No! No no no no, godsdammit! Cain, I’m so sorry. I… if I’d known I wouldn’t have let her -”
“There’s nothing you could have done, mum. Don’t blame yourself. I sent her to help you and Salihn. I sent her away from my side even after Mara warned us to stick together.”
“Mara?” asked Kirin, eyes widened with surprise. “You’ve met Mara?”
“Not now, dad. I can’t get into that.” Cain stood up and looked towards the door. “I need to go. I want to be alone for a while.” He started to move off but Linneá grabbed him and held him close. He let her hug him for a moment but he didn’t have the strength to grieve with her. She let go and he headed upstairs to the bedroom he used to share with Anska.
It was still in disarray from their late night arrival and hurried morning. Locking the door behind him, he took a look around the room and saw that one of her few remaining clean blouses had fallen to the floor near the foot of the bed. Cain sat down and picked it up, pressing it to his face. Anska’s floral scent clung to the fabric and the tears began to flow again while he sobbed into it. He laid down on the ground with it for what felt like eternity.
The sun had started to set when he heard a timid knock on the door. He ignored it and soon heard footsteps slowly fading away.
-----
After a sleepless night Cain was wrangled from his self-imposed prison by his family. Linneá and Serana nearly pounded the door to pieces before he opened it and they dragged him downstairs to eat breakfast in a room far from the larder where he’d found Anska. He ate mechanically, nodding at the polite conversations between his sisters, Kirin, and Lydia. They danced around the subject but Cain knew it was coming.
“Look, we need to plan the funeral, my son,” said Kirin, finally. Cain blanched. He set his fork down and tried his best to meet his father’s eyes. “None of us knew Anska like you did. What would she have wanted?”
“I don’t know,” muttered Cain. “It’s not like we ever thought that prudent to discuss.”
“Husband, can’t this wait?” asked Lydia. “Give him time to breathe! Hell, we all need time to breathe!”
“It’s fine,” said Cain. Everything still felt numb. Despite the grief he’d already been through, he felt like the reality of it all was yet to set in for him.“Let’s have her cremated. Then I’ll decide what to do with her ashes some other time.” And then I can move on to… somewhere else. Anywhere else.
The silence in his head was overwhelming and caused more pain than anything else. He’d never hear Anska whispering into his thoughts again and the realization of that took him right back to how he felt kneeling over her lifeless body. Cain broke down again and had to excuse himself from the table. Lydia took his arm and guided him back to the bedroom, but didn’t say anything along the way. She seemed to understand how he felt more than the others did.
Lydia opened the door and gave him a long hug before letting him be alone. “Come help us later if you’re feeling up to it, dear. The palace is a mess and it will take days to get everything back in order. Might help distract you for a while, too.”
“I’ll try.”
He laid back down in the bed for a few hours and tried not to dwell on the deafening silence. At some point, Cain dozed off and awoke feeling somewhat refreshed and decided he would go help out. If only for a distraction, as Lydia had suggested. Turns out he didn’t have far to go. Linneá was hauling a dead invader away just one corridor over. He offered her a fake smile and picked up the dead body’s feet to help carry it out of the palace.
The body tossed onto a pile in the courtyard, they leaned against a stone column to catch their breath.
“Cain, I” began Linneá.
“Don’t bother,” Cain interjected. “I don’t need platitudes and I don’t want everyone doting over me. It won’t help.”
“I wasn’t going to,” said Linneá. “Really. I just wanted you to know how much I miss her, too. I loved her to bits and enjoyed having another sister. Just don’t forget you still have Serana and I, yeah? You’ll always have us.”
Cain nodded. “Better get back at it. I’m sure there’s plenty more to clean up in there.”
They head back inside to rejoin the cleaning efforts but were soon tracked down by Serana. “There you are, Elle! And Cain, too? I’m glad to see you out and about!”
“What’s up, hon?” asked Linneá.
“Dad’s called us all to his study for something. Wouldn’t say what, but it sounded urgent.”
The three of them went back up through the palace to Kirin’s private study. Lydia was already there waiting and just as Cain went to sit down in a chair near the back, a familiar brown hawk soared through the window. Kyne alighted down into her mortal form, her soft face streaked with tears. She nearly tackled Cain with her embrace as she dove into him.
“I just head from Linn what happened! Are you -”
“Not here, mum,” pleaded Cain. “I can’t do this again in front of everyone.”
“Then we’ll go for a walk.” She turned to look at Kirin. “You’ll have to manage without us.”
-----
The door closed with a snap and Kirin sighed while easing himself into his chair. “I guess we will.”
“Should we wait for them?” asked Serana.
“Nah, I can sort it out with Kyne later. And I think Cain needs to take a break from politics and espionage for a while. Anything new today?”
“Aye,” said Linneá. “We found Sybille in one of the cellars... she didn’t make it.”
“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Kirin. “Two dozen guards and now Sybille as well as Anska? By the Nine, Mede will pay for this. Are we certain he was behind this?”
“Without a doubt,” said Linneá. “Ana and I, er, convinced some of the men we captured to talk this morning. Separate men in separate rooms confirmed it and their accounts of the details matched. These were Penitus Oculatus agents attacking on his orders. We can cart them before the world for all to see.”
“Were they just after us?”
“No, they wanted the orb,” said Serana. “We sort of thought that after seeing how many rooms were ransacked, but we wormed that out of them, too.”
Kirin was pleased to know that Elysium remained off the Empire’s radar. There were far more dangerous objects hidden there than Vaermina’s Orb, and they needed to remain away from prying eyes. But the loss of his court wizard stung. Sybille was wise and powerful, and had faithfully served himself and several other Jarls and Kings. Finding a new one would be no easier matter. Unless…
“Well, the orb is safe, so I guess the next order of business will be finding a new court wizard. Um, Serana?” said Kirin, clearing his throat. “Would you -”
“Absolutely not, dad. There isn’t enough brandy in the world for me to take on that job.”
Linneá giggled and then turned him down, too. “I’m out, too. Sorry, dad, but I’d rather have a dragon bite my other arm off.”
“If I can make a suggestion, though?” offered Serana. “Garan Marethi. Yes, I know he’s another vampire, but you won’t find anyone else in Tamriel more suited for the job. Plus, I’d love to have him around here. Garan is practically my uncle.”
He leaned back for a moment to stew on the idea but decided to give it more thought later. Their home was still a wreck and with Cain’s departure he’d have to cut this meeting short anyway. He glanced over at Lydia who nodded in agreement.
“Right, then let’s get back to it,” he said. “Plenty of work left to do. Go see where the staff needs you.”
Linneá and Serana left and Kirin joined Lydia on her chaise. Everyone had taken Anska’s loss hard, his wife especially. Though she wasn’t Cain’s blood mother, she had come to love him as much as she loved her own children. And Anska had been such a wonderful fit for him. But the unexpected loss of a grandchild seemed to be affecting her most of all.
“We’ll get through this, Lyds,” consoled Kirin. He brushed a new tear off of her cheek. “Together.”
-----
Cain felt as if the bright sun and clear blue skies were mocking him. There was even a hint of brine on the air, wafting high up onto the great Solitude arch and circulating through the flower gardens. He’d spent nearly an hour talking with Kyne and while she did her best to make him feel better, nothing really came of it. The only desire he had anymore was to leave. He couldn’t stay here anymore, in the place where they would have raised a family. It was too hard.
Nor did he look forward to telling his family of his intentions. Kyne had mentioned the funeral service would be tomorrow night, and that she would be by his side for all of it. After that, he was leaving. Cain looked down at his feet where another dead brigand was laying and sighed before stooping over to gather it up.
Delicate footsteps approached from behind and he dropped the body to see who it was. “Why am I not surprised?” he muttered. The otherworldly beauty and radiance of Mara smiled sadly at him, and she raised her palms in a gesture of openness. He grunted and took a seat on earthen floor.
“I won’t bother asking how you are doing, for I know all too well,” said the goddess. “I merely offer this advice: give it time. Time can heal everything, including the sundering of love. I also sense your desire to leave this place, and while I understand, I would just ask that it not be permanent. Your family loves you, Cain. They’ll need you to heal as much as you’ll need them.”
“...I don’t know when I’ll be able to return, ma’am. The thought of being here without her. Or anywhere without her.”
“I know. Just don’t forsake them.”
She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder and then vanished from sight. A guardsman rounded the nearest corner and hesitated at the sight of Cain sitting on the ground. He got to his feet and motioned to the guard. “Give me a hand with this one. I think it’s the last.”
“Aye, sir.”
They grabbed the body, carried it off to the courtyard, and chucked it onto the loaded wagon that had been summoned from the stables. The smell coming from the pile of corpses was vile but Cain was pretty sure his latest contribution to it was the last one. A final walk-through was already underway in the palace and had thus far turned up empty. He thanked the guard and headed back to his room for the night.
-----
He spent the next morning packing up his belongings. Linneá and Serana came by at lunch time to tell him the service was starting soon, and they left him a fresh set of dress attire. They were already wearing black dresses for the somber occasion, but had given up trying to apply makeup.
“There’s no point,” shrugged Linneá. “It just keeps getting smudged and ruined.”
“You’re still beautiful without it, Elle,” said Serana. “Get dressed and join us in the hall, brother. We’ll walk with you to the chapel.”
Cain pulled off his shirt and trousers and slipped on the new clothes. They weren’t really his style but did fit the dreadful occasion. He checked his hair in the mirror above the small wardrobe and stared briefly at the haggard reflection in it. He’d shaved for the first time in weeks this morning, but the bags under his eyes told the tale of how little sleep he was getting. The long nights alone with his own singular thoughts were agonizing and he was tempted to start brewing sleep aids. But he knew they could be addictive over time and was hesitant to go down that road.
A few minutes later he stepped out into the hall and followed his sisters out of the Blue Palace and up the sloping streets of Solitude. The Temple of the Nine was across town, near Castle Dour. A hush fell over the townsfolk milling about while they passed by, some nodding respectfully to them. It was until these moments that Cain often forgot he and his sisters were royalty.
Some citizens joined them as the walked and soon a small procession formed around the three of them. Cain’s already leaden heart grew heavier and heavier when they approached the chapel, and it took several minutes of consoling from Linneá and Serana before he could muster the strength to enter it. Kirin and Lydia waited just inside the doors with another woman Cain vaguely recognized as a disguised Kyne. They ushered everyone in and up to a pew at the front.
Anska’s remains had been placed into an ornate golden urn inlaid with beautifully flowing lines carrying delicate golden snowflakes. Cain felt the world crashing down around him once again and barely heard a word of what the priest of Arkay said during the service. When it came time to accept the urn, it took every ounce of willpower he had left to stand up and take it from the priest. The service ended with his family wiping their eyes and escorting him back to the palace together.
They made their way to Kirin’s study once again to be alone with each other for the rest of the day. Kyne had gone ahead and was waiting for them with an abundance of food and wine laid out on the desk that was normally covered with documents and missives. Kirin made a heartfelt toast in Anska’s honor and for the next hour they spoke in remembrance of her, and recounted stories from their time together. The somber affair was wrapping up for the evening when Cain decided to announce his intentions.
“I’m leaving tonight, after we’re done here.”
“Leaving?” asked a tearful Lydia. “I don’t understand, dear… where else would you go?”
“Anywhere but here. I love you all, but I can’t bear it right now. Not without her. It’s too much.”
“No, you can’t go!” pleaded Linneá. “I feel like you just got here and now you’re going to leave? I know how much you’re hurting but your place is here with us!”
“Elle, don’t do that,” warned Serana. “None of us here can pretend to know what our brother is going through. If he feels needs time alone and away from here then that’s what we should give him.” She stood up and crossed the room to give Cain a hug. “I’ll miss you dearly. Don’t stay away forever.”
Lydia wiped her eyes with a kerchief and then nodded at him. “Whatever it takes, Cain. If you feel this is something you need to do, then we won’t stop you.”
“The hell I won’t!” yelled Linneá. “If you think for five seconds that I’m going to -”
“That’s enough, Linn!” came the stern voice of Kirin. “You’re going to honor his wishes. We may not agree with them, but we have no right to keep Cain here if he wants to leave.” He joined Lydia at his son’s side and they embraced him together. “Come back when you are ready, my son. This will always be your home.”
Cain thanked them and then dried his eyes. He took a step towards Linneá to say goodbye, but she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room with an angry Serana chasing after her. Shaking his head in disbelief, he instead accepted another hug from Lydia.
“Don’t take it to heart, dear,” soothed Lydia. “She’s always had strong emotions. I’m sure Linn will come find you shortly.”
His father clapped him on the back. “Keep in touch, yeah? At least by mail if you can’t pop in. Come, we’ll walk you out – it’s the least we can do.”
“No, I’m fine, really,” said Cain. “I still need to grab my gear from the room.” He caught Kyne’s eye in the corner of the room and tried to smile at her. “You’ve been awfully quiet through all of this, mum. Don’t I get a goodbye from you too?”
“You’ll find I’m not easy to shake off, my child. We’ll see each other again.”
He shrugged and said a final goodbye to his parents before heading off for his bedroom. The halls were mostly deserted this late in the day and he didn’t run into a single person along the way. His bag waited for him at the foot of the bed, along with his sword. He stowed the urn carrying his fiance’s ashes in it and slung it over his back. Then he strapped his sword and scabbard to it and looked around the room one last time. I’ll never forget our nights here, my love.
The door closed behind him with a thud, and a few moments later he was passing by his father’s throne and descended the curved stone steps to the palace vestibule. Before he could place his hands on the door to leave, Linneá stepped out from the shadows and glared at him with her arms crossed.
“You’re seriously gonna [censored] leave? After all we’ve been through?”
“I have to, Linn,” sighed Cain. “It’s too painful.”
“Bullshit! We can help you, Cain! We can help you through this, you just have to [censored] let us! You’re not the only person whose ever lost someone, brother! Throw that damn bag down and stay! Please!”
“You don’t understand -”
“Yes, Cain, I do! We all do, that’s what I’ve been trying to te-”
“NO, YOU [censored] DON’T, LINN!” bellowed Cain. She recoiled in shock at his sudden outburst and was about to speak again when he cut her off. “Try to imagine, for just five godsdamned seconds, what it would be like, Linn, to never hear Serana’s voice in your head again. For your thoughts to be alone, echoing back at you in the void after you entwined yourself so firmly with the one you love. The one who is everything to you. The silence is unbearable, and it’s worse here, mingled with the memories.”
They stared at each other in silence for almost a full minute, until Linneá nodded and approached him again. “You’re right. It doesn’t bear to think about, Cain. I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close for a while. For a moment, he felt a curious sensation settle deep within him, but he shook it off as exhaustion from a trying day. “I love you, brother. Promise me we’ll see each other again?”
“I promise, Linn.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” They separated and Linneá smiley sadly at him. “Good luck.”
Cain nodded and headed out through the main doors into the exterior courtyard. Without looking back, he raised his hand and cast the recall spell, vanishing into thin air.
Interlude
The moons soared far above the sky when the last shovelful of dirt was returned to the small grave Cain had dug on the Gold Coast overlooking the Abecean Sea. He threw the shovel aside and knelt to place a small marker atop the mound of fresh earth, making sure it was firmly seated and lined up perfectly with his mother’s gravestone. Opening his bag, Cain fished out a rag and wiped down both of them before closing his eyes in silent prayer. Then got to hist feet and read the inscription one last time.
“Sovngarde is a long way off, my love” said Cain. “I don’t know if I have the strength to wait that long to be with you again.” He wiped away new tears and trudged off to his nearby campsite. The small fire he’d lit when he arrived had nearly gone out, so he climbed inside the tent and collapsed into his sleeping bag. Despite the misery of the day, he succumbed to fatigue in moments and slept dreamless until dawn.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” said Linneá. She was sitting at the breakfast table with her family the very next morning, but her appetite seemed to have vanished. For the last ten minutes she’d been idly rolling a few roasted potatoes around her plate without actually taking a bite. “I mean, I do get it now, but I still hate it.”
“Just give it time, Linn,” said Kirin. “His spirit is broken and he needs to figure out who he can be or what he can do with his life. All of that will be easier without our influence.”
“But what if he doesn’t come back?”
“We just have to have faith, dear,” Lydia chimed in. “Cain knows how much we love him and we know that he loves us just as much. It may be weeks, months, or even years… but he’ll be back. For now, we just have to carry him in our hearts.”
“And in case that isn’t clear, that means no tracking him down you two,” said Kirin, glancing shrewdly at Linneá and Serana. “Got it?”
Serana shrugged her shoulders lazily. “Not like we have a choice, dad. He could be anywhere and I doubt he’s going to be out there garnering attention.”
Linneá nodded her agreement too, not looking up from her plate of cold food. That was one promise she didn’t intend to keep. He couldn’t stay away forever, and despite what the others thought, she did have a way of tracking him down. Sooner or later, she’d be paying him a visit wherever her brother happened to be.
The correspondences had begun to arrive from the northern province. Anilay had a stack of mail to open, but the document his eyes scanned through right now brought a beaming smile to his face. A list of names, detailed sketches, and affidavits filled a lengthy scroll of parchment identifying nearly a dozen Penitus Oculatus agents who had taken part in the attack on Skyrim’s High King at Mede’s behest. He rolled it back up and dashed off to the council chambers at once to share the news with them.
Emperor Titus Mede II’s days were numbered. The evidence to damn him was in-hand, and his ill-fated attempt to retain power had served nothing but to sow further doubt in his ability to manage the Empire. And now Skyrim, their closest ally since the founding of the Septim Empire threatened to sever all ties and recognize Cyrodiil as a hostile state. Anilay had heard news of the attack shortly after it ended and was saddened to hear about the death of the lovely Anska. He wished there was a way to convey a message to his friend, the King’s son, and the man who had risked it all for answers they both sought. But early reports indicated that Cain had left his father’s employ and disappeared into the unknown.
He arrived at the chambers short of breath and bustled quickly through the doors, not caring if they were in session. Anilay gathered the attention of the Elders and laid the scroll out on the table for all to see. “We have what we need to depose him,” he stated confidently. “The attack on the Blue Palace failed and the king’s men took several invaders hostage. They’ve admitted their station and rank, and have corroborated against Mede. The time has come.”
The Elder Council all gathered around Anilay and the document, clamoring noisily, yet excitedly to see the evidence for themselves. The High King even offered to make arrangements for covert prisoner transfers, should the council want to interrogate the attackers in person. Anilay stepped back from the table feeling elated for the first time since his return to the White-Gold Tower. Mede had chosen to outright ignore him since the events with Vaermina’s Orb, but he would not be able to ignore this.
A new day was rising over the Empire.
The moons soared far above the sky when the last shovelful of dirt was returned to the small grave Cain had dug on the Gold Coast overlooking the Abecean Sea. He threw the shovel aside and knelt to place a small marker atop the mound of fresh earth, making sure it was firmly seated and lined up perfectly with his mother’s gravestone. Opening his bag, Cain fished out a rag and wiped down both of them before closing his eyes in silent prayer. Then got to hist feet and read the inscription one last time.
Anska Windborne
4E 199 - 4E 229
Love is eternal and shall never be diminished
4E 199 - 4E 229
Love is eternal and shall never be diminished
“Sovngarde is a long way off, my love” said Cain. “I don’t know if I have the strength to wait that long to be with you again.” He wiped away new tears and trudged off to his nearby campsite. The small fire he’d lit when he arrived had nearly gone out, so he climbed inside the tent and collapsed into his sleeping bag. Despite the misery of the day, he succumbed to fatigue in moments and slept dreamless until dawn.
-----
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” said Linneá. She was sitting at the breakfast table with her family the very next morning, but her appetite seemed to have vanished. For the last ten minutes she’d been idly rolling a few roasted potatoes around her plate without actually taking a bite. “I mean, I do get it now, but I still hate it.”
“Just give it time, Linn,” said Kirin. “His spirit is broken and he needs to figure out who he can be or what he can do with his life. All of that will be easier without our influence.”
“But what if he doesn’t come back?”
“We just have to have faith, dear,” Lydia chimed in. “Cain knows how much we love him and we know that he loves us just as much. It may be weeks, months, or even years… but he’ll be back. For now, we just have to carry him in our hearts.”
“And in case that isn’t clear, that means no tracking him down you two,” said Kirin, glancing shrewdly at Linneá and Serana. “Got it?”
Serana shrugged her shoulders lazily. “Not like we have a choice, dad. He could be anywhere and I doubt he’s going to be out there garnering attention.”
Linneá nodded her agreement too, not looking up from her plate of cold food. That was one promise she didn’t intend to keep. He couldn’t stay away forever, and despite what the others thought, she did have a way of tracking him down. Sooner or later, she’d be paying him a visit wherever her brother happened to be.
-----
The correspondences had begun to arrive from the northern province. Anilay had a stack of mail to open, but the document his eyes scanned through right now brought a beaming smile to his face. A list of names, detailed sketches, and affidavits filled a lengthy scroll of parchment identifying nearly a dozen Penitus Oculatus agents who had taken part in the attack on Skyrim’s High King at Mede’s behest. He rolled it back up and dashed off to the council chambers at once to share the news with them.
Emperor Titus Mede II’s days were numbered. The evidence to damn him was in-hand, and his ill-fated attempt to retain power had served nothing but to sow further doubt in his ability to manage the Empire. And now Skyrim, their closest ally since the founding of the Septim Empire threatened to sever all ties and recognize Cyrodiil as a hostile state. Anilay had heard news of the attack shortly after it ended and was saddened to hear about the death of the lovely Anska. He wished there was a way to convey a message to his friend, the King’s son, and the man who had risked it all for answers they both sought. But early reports indicated that Cain had left his father’s employ and disappeared into the unknown.
He arrived at the chambers short of breath and bustled quickly through the doors, not caring if they were in session. Anilay gathered the attention of the Elders and laid the scroll out on the table for all to see. “We have what we need to depose him,” he stated confidently. “The attack on the Blue Palace failed and the king’s men took several invaders hostage. They’ve admitted their station and rank, and have corroborated against Mede. The time has come.”
The Elder Council all gathered around Anilay and the document, clamoring noisily, yet excitedly to see the evidence for themselves. The High King even offered to make arrangements for covert prisoner transfers, should the council want to interrogate the attackers in person. Anilay stepped back from the table feeling elated for the first time since his return to the White-Gold Tower. Mede had chosen to outright ignore him since the events with Vaermina’s Orb, but he would not be able to ignore this.
A new day was rising over the Empire.
Despite the love of his new family, Cain is unable to stay where there are so many memories. Buffy went through a similar process after losing her mate in Kvatch and had to retreat to Valenwood to sort herself out. Good luck to Cain.
Mara’s earlier warning is now clear. Having the kind of thought connection that Cain and Anska had – the same kind that Linneá and Serana have - makes being ripped apart even harder. Yet, something tells me neither Cain nor Anska would do a thing differently even if they knew how it would end.
It seems like Anilay and the Council’s move against the Emperor is ready to go. Hopefully it will succeed and improve things between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It is encouraging to already see communications between the Blue Palace and the White Gold Tower.
Mara’s earlier warning is now clear. Having the kind of thought connection that Cain and Anska had – the same kind that Linneá and Serana have - makes being ripped apart even harder. Yet, something tells me neither Cain nor Anska would do a thing differently even if they knew how it would end.
It seems like Anilay and the Council’s move against the Emperor is ready to go. Hopefully it will succeed and improve things between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It is encouraging to already see communications between the Blue Palace and the White Gold Tower.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 4 2025, 07:14 PM) 
Despite the love of his new family, Cain is unable to stay where there are so many memories. Buffy went through a similar process after losing her mate in Kvatch and had to retreat to Valenwood to sort herself out. Good luck to Cain.
Mara€™s earlier warning is now clear. Having the kind of thought connection that Cain and Anska had �" the same kind that Linneá and Serana have - makes being ripped apart even harder. Yet, something tells me neither Cain nor Anska would do a thing differently even if they knew how it would end.
It seems like Anilay and the Council€™s move against the Emperor is ready to go. Hopefully it will succeed and improve things between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It is encouraging to already see communications between the Blue Palace and the White Gold Tower.
Mara€™s earlier warning is now clear. Having the kind of thought connection that Cain and Anska had �" the same kind that Linneá and Serana have - makes being ripped apart even harder. Yet, something tells me neither Cain nor Anska would do a thing differently even if they knew how it would end.
It seems like Anilay and the Council€™s move against the Emperor is ready to go. Hopefully it will succeed and improve things between Cyrodiil and Skyrim. It is encouraging to already see communications between the Blue Palace and the White Gold Tower.
It's funny how our stories rhyme somewhat with certain characters. Not intentional at all, I might add!
They would certainly do it all again if given the opportunity. Love conquers all.
Time will tell!
Chapter XXXVII �" The Way Forward (4E 230)
The ardent waters of the Iliac Bay reflected brilliant shades of red-orange underneath a beautiful sunset. Only the faintest of gentle winds caressed the endless expanse while minuscule waves lapped calmly against the sandy shoreline. A lone figure sat above the tide line, staring aimlessly across the vast waters, wondering about what could have been. He heard soft footsteps in the sand behind him, but he didn’t even have to turn and look to know who it was.
A tallish woman with long dark hair as black as the darkest night took a seat next to him, her hazel eyes briefly staring out across the sea before turning to study his face. “Hello again, brother.”
“Linneá,” acknowledged Cain.
“It’s been nearly a year… Are you ready to come back with me?”
Cain said nothing. He knew exactly how long it had been but no amount of time seemed to feel like enough. The Redguard had been traveling endlessly since he left Skyrim, mourning the death of his fiance and their unborn child, taking whatever meaningless job would get him a meal or room at an inn for the night. He loved and missed the rest of his family dearly, but the pain was still too much to bear.
“I don’t think any amount of time will ever be enough, Linn,” he sighed. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. The memories of our time together fill my dreams at night, and the silence in my mind is deafening. The wound runs as deeply as it did the day it happened. No, I can’t come back. Not now.”
“Look, Cain, we all miss Anska and to this day we all mourn her loss. But you can’t shun your life away forever. We need you. And we can help. You shouldn’t have to continue on alone like this, wandering aimlessly around Tamriel, looking for an easy death. Come home. Then we can at least be sad together.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Linn. I’d just have soon as died for our mother, or anyone of you. Anska shouldn’t have been murdered so needlessly. She deserved better.”
“It’s easy to die for those we care about, Cain. Real courage lies in embracing the pain with those you love. And those who love you.”
Linneá looked back out to the sea, watching the last glimmer of the evening sun slowly fall beyond the horizon. Night fell over the silence between them as she tried to come up with another tact. Something had to break this spell over him. Then she remembered the note their father had given her that morning. Opening her satchel, Linneá pulled out a roll of parchment and small piece of charcoal.
“How about this,” she began, scribbling furiously across the page.
“Linn...”
“Hang on a sec.” She finished writing the letter and handed it to him. “A small job for you, just so that you can dip your toes back in and maybe take your mind off of things.”
“I’ve been living on small jobs,” said Cain. “Why should this one be any different?”
“Because it’s for me?” she asked, hopefully. “Anyway, the details are all in the letter - if you want to help, head for Wayrest. I assume you were going there anyway, since you’re only about ten or so miles out. Look for me at the Cloudy Dregs Inn and I’ll introduce you to the client.” Linneá rested a hand on his shoulder and then vanished into thin air.
Cain continued to stare out over the bay, counting to ten under his breath. Just a few feet away from him another person dispelled their invisibility spell and sat down by his side. Gwyndala Louvain was a Breton woman of similar age, with long curly hair ranging anywhere from raven black to an iridescent pink, depending on her mood when she woke up in the morning. Numerous piercings adorned her face and ears, and very little of her tiny frame remained free of mystical tattoos that glowed vibrantly in the dark. A self-proclaimed witch, she had a penchant for dressing more scantily than Cain was comfortable with, and practiced arcane magic of a darker nature than he was accustomed to seeing.
In their time together Cain had witnessed her use outright impressive, if not brutally effective spells to end fights in a hurry. The first time her magick decapitated someone he felt himself flinch subconsciously. And when she later turned a bandit inside out he nearly emptied the contents of his stomach at the sight of it. When confronted about the disturbing nature of her destruction spells, she simply shrugged and said: “I’m small and easily cornered. So, I fight back without giving them a chance to do so.” He thanked the stars she was a friend and swore to never have her as an enemy.
“Well?” said Gwyn, stealing a sidelong glance at him. “What are you going to do about this development? Are you ready to re-enter that fold?”
“I don’t know,” said Cain, plainly. “I miss them a lot, but we’re no closer to our goal than we were three months ago and I’m struggling to come up with an alternative option to what I proposed to you back then. We may not have a choice.”
“Hm. I’m beginning to agree with you there. None of the avenues I explored have come to fruition either. It’s really fuckin’ annoying to hit the proverbial stone wall, as it were.”
“Then it seems our hands are tied. Who knows, maybe Linn can help us out when it’s time. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty, or try unique solutions to impossible problems. And neither one of us can certainly set foot in that place or the entire plan will be ruined.”
“Wayrest it is, then,” said Gwyn. “I’m off to bed. Cya bright and early.” A quick wave of her hand summoned a small tent and she crawled into it before Cain even had his bag open to start erecting his own tent.
-----
Dawn came quickly and they were underway just after first light, heading towards the city under gloomy skies that threatened an early summer downpour. They moved quickly, for Cain had long since left his set of armor behind in favor of lighter clothes and freer movement. And Gwyn moved even faster than he in a set of robes that seemed to exist only to cover as little skin as possible. Had he still not been so steadfastly devoted to his late fiance, Cain felt that he’d have given in to temptation long ago.
It didn’t help matters that his odd companion was somewhat of a free spirit in regard to her sexuality. She’d offered him a roll in the hay more than a few times already, and when turned down she wandered off to find a more wiling partner. They’d been traveling together for nearly four months now, and there was still so much Cain didn’t know about her. Not for lack of asking, but more due to the fact that Gwyn refused to speak of her past.
All in all, Gwyndala Louvain was an enigma that Cain had yet to fully unravel. Their trust in each other was mutual, but he suspected a deeper trauma lay within that she’d only share on her terms. One thing she knew for certain though, is that his sisters would adore his new friend… when the time came for him to return home, that is.
By midday, Cain and Gwyn approached the eastern gate of Wayrest, the Jewel of the Illiac Bay. The guards bowed their heads politely while they passed through, their eyes lingering on the provocative attire she sported. Her tangle of hair was crimson today, which Cain had come to understand implied a night of fitful sleep and bad dreams. But she was always jovial and outgoing, despite what roiled under the waves.
They were ahead of schedule when entering the inn, so Cain grabbed a table and ordered lunch while Gwyn threw on her hood and took a seat at the bar, just within earshot. Not five minutes later, Linneá walked through the door with a stranger and joined her brother at his table.
“[censored] me, am I happy to see you here,” she half-shouted, beaming intensely at him. “I wasn’t sure you were coming, but I hoped beyond reason that you would. Gimme a sec, I’m ordering some booze for the occasion! Woo!”
Cain couldn’t help but grin at her antics. Ten months was a long time to be away from home and he did miss his family more than he let on. He gestured to the man who’d come in with Linneá and offered him a seat.
“Sorry, my sister gets a little excitable sometimes. “What’s you name, pal?”
“Genard,” said the Breton man, offering a handshake.
Cain accepted it and nodded. “Cain Windborne, at your service. So, tell me, Genard… what’s Linn getting me into this time?”
“We’ll get to that,” she said, setting down three pints of ale. Cain hadn’t noticed her slink back over, but he thanked her for the drink and waited patiently for her to explain.
At the bar, Gwyn had lowered her hood and was making a show of writing in her journal with her ears trained in their direction. The bartender sauntered over to see if she needed anything and she shooed him away with a lazy flick of the wrist.
“Tell me, brother,” continued Linneá. “What changed your mind this time? Why accept the offer after so many months of avoidance?”
“Can’t very well hide forever, can I?” came the rehearsed reply. “I dunno, maybe it is almost time to share the pain instead of keeping it bottled up inside. Won’t lie and say I don’t miss you all, too. But that doesn’t mean I’m doing this job and hopping on the next ship back Solitude.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” said Linneá. “Not too much longer though, yeah? I’m already going to have to spill the beans tomorrow about our little rendezvous’.”
“What? Why?”
“I stole a peek at one of dad’s communiques last night and it had a troubling if completely nonfactual report attached of your apparent imprisonment at the hands of a mercenary clan in Hammerfell. He’ll be forced to spend resources we don’t have looking into it, or officially declare you deceased to avoid dealing with them. No one wants that.” She paused for a moment and then went on. “Which also means your likely to get a visit from another ‘friend’ if you catch my drift.”
Cain swallowed hard. He was not looking forward to that meeting after nine months of no contact with Kyne. She is not going to be happy when she does track him down again. But they were here for a different matter, so he cleared his throat and changed the subject.
“Let’s talk about that later, Linn. We’re here for a job.”
She nodded and gave the floor to their contact. Genard rustled up a letter from one of his pockets and laid it one the table for them to read while he took a pull from his ale. Cain and Linneá combed through it, exchanged a fleeting glance of doubt at it’s validity, and accepted the terms. All three shook hands and Genard drained his glass and left without a further word.
“He wasn’t very friendly, eh?” mused Cain.
“Asshole would be more accurate,” grunted Linneá. “And there’s no way this job checks out. The highest ranking Dominion spymaster in High Rock living in a boarded up house across town? Nah, this idiot means to capture one or both of us in hopes he can extort some gold from Dad. Be careful with this one, Cain. I know you can handle yourself, but I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I’ll be fine, Linn,” he promised. “Somehow, I doubt this will be the worse thing I’ve ever handled.”
“Good. Now stand up and give me a hug so that I can go. Serana and Salihn are expecting me for lunch.”
“Give them my best,” said Cain.
Linneá left the inn and Gwyn joined him at the table to discuss their next move. The job itself was trivial and together they would make sure this ‘Genard’ lout would regret going down this road. The real problem they had would be the arrival of a goddess and whether or not it was time for his new friend’s presence to be known.
-----
The morning sun rose high above the Blue Palace. As predicted, a guard knocked on the door to Linneá and Serana’s suite with an urgent summons to Kirin’s study. They dropped Salihn off at the kitchens along the way and then hastily headed up to what would amount to one hell of an argument and dissection of their behavior and secret keeping. When they arrived, Lydia and Kirin greeted them cordially before settling in for the meeting.
“I have some news regarding you brother,” began Kirin. “According to this letter, some thugs in Hammerfell claim to have captured him and they want a reward.”
He continued on with a dire tone, clearly struggling with could be done about it, and how seriously they should be taking it. Serana kept jabbing her wife in the leg with increasing force while she yelled mentally at her until Linneá yelped in pain and got the message.
“Something to add, Liin?” he asked. “Is this really the time for to two to be goofing off?”
“Elle, has something to tell you both,” said Serana. “Don’t you, sweetie?”
“Oh no,” sighed Lydia. “What have you done this time, Linn?”
“[censored]. Well, er, it’s nothing dreadful, of that I can assure you… but I sort of broke in here last night and read that same letter, dad. Sorry. Anyway, you’ll be happy to know that I can one-hundred percent guarantee you that it’s a complete fabrication.”
“I’m going to ignore that first part for now,” growled Kirin. “So, tell me how you know this is fake.”
Linneá fidgeted nervously in her chair and then looked at Serana for support. She shook her head and whispered in her thoughts: I told you we shouldn’t have kept it a secret. They are going to be very cross with us and it’s your fault.
I know. Guess I better just be blunt about it. Here goes nothing…
“Because I had a drink with Cain around noon yesterday, and he is very much not captured.”
“LINNEA!!” Lydia jumped up from her seat and grabbed her daughter’s shoulders. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ‘HAD A DRINK’ WITH HIM YESTERDAY? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN CONTACT WITH HIM?!”
“How could you keep this from us, Linn?” demanded Kirin. “And you too, Serana, because I damn well know she told you right away!”
“That can wait, husband,” snapped Lydia. “What I want to know is how exactly did you find him when he’s managed to give everyone else the slip?”
She fidgeted uncomfortably again. They were going to be even more upset when she told them that she’d had the means to find him at any time since his departure last year. She only waited as long as she did out of respect for his privacy. And to let him have the time alone he desired.
“I, uh. I sort of marked him during our last goodbye on the night he left. Marked his spirit, I mean.”
Her parents both glared at her with expressions somewhere in between anger and shock. Lydia sat back down and lowered her head into her hands while Kirin sighed in disbelief. He tore up the letter involving the fake extortion scheme and tossed it into the fireplace. Deciding it would be best for everyone to take a breather, he dismissed his daughters.
“You two need to leave us for a while; I’ll come find you when I need you. And, Linn? This isn’t over yet. The four of us are going to have a nice long chat later about priorities.”
Linneá knew it wasn’t the time to defend herself, so she left with Serana and together they headed off to find their daughter. And outside the window, a large brown hawk took flight, bound southwest for the province of High Rock.
So, a year has passed and Cain’s pain over the loss of Anska is no less.
A surprise visit from Linneá with a job request. I’m glad Cain has decided not to ignore it. Hopefully this is something that can help bring him closer to rejoining his family.
A new friend and traveling companion!
“I’m small and easily cornered. So, I fight back without giving them a chance to do so.”
- - I couldn’t resist quoting this, as the words could have as easily been spoken by Buffy!
Gwyn is certainly a fascinating little witch and it sounds like she’s handy in a fight.
The job Cain agrees to is quite a mystery.
Meanwhile, back at the Blue Palace – ahah! So that’s how Linneá tracked down Cain. Clever girl.
A surprise visit from Linneá with a job request. I’m glad Cain has decided not to ignore it. Hopefully this is something that can help bring him closer to rejoining his family.
A new friend and traveling companion!
“I’m small and easily cornered. So, I fight back without giving them a chance to do so.”
- - I couldn’t resist quoting this, as the words could have as easily been spoken by Buffy!
Gwyn is certainly a fascinating little witch and it sounds like she’s handy in a fight.
The job Cain agrees to is quite a mystery.
Meanwhile, back at the Blue Palace – ahah! So that’s how Linneá tracked down Cain. Clever girl.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 5 2025, 03:32 PM)
So, a year has passed and Cain’s pain over the loss of Anska is no less.
He's a bit stubborn about letting go and it's going to be a major aspect of the final act.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 5 2025, 03:32 PM)
A new friend and traveling companion!
“I’m small and easily cornered. So, I fight back without giving them a chance to do so.”
- - I couldn’t resist quoting this, as the words could have as easily been spoken by Buffy!
Gwyn is certainly a fascinating little witch and it sounds like she’s handy in a fight.
“I’m small and easily cornered. So, I fight back without giving them a chance to do so.”
- - I couldn’t resist quoting this, as the words could have as easily been spoken by Buffy!
Gwyn is certainly a fascinating little witch and it sounds like she’s handy in a fight.
Shorties unite! When I get around to creating her for my next round of Skyrim, she won't be quite as small as Buffy, just normal Breton shortness.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 5 2025, 03:32 PM)
Meanwhile, back at the Blue Palace �" ahah! So that’s how Linneá tracked down Cain. Clever girl.
And yea, Linn was never going to let him leave unaccounted for.
Chapter XXXVIII �" From Past to Present
(Four months ago…)
Cain swayed dangerously atop a steep cliff face high in the mountains outside of Evermore. It had been an arduous trek up a rocky path in pursuit of a brigand who’d been terrorizing a local village tucked away among the lofty peaks of eastern High Rock. The job paid well and the poorly trained target had been trivial for Cain to eliminate, but the hunt had run into nightfall and so he decided to set up camp for the night in lieu of returning to the village.
The dead man he’d chased down had a backpack full of stolen mead from a local brewery. How he acquired it was likely one of the many reasons a bounty had been incurred, but Cain started helping himself to it nonetheless. Nearly six months had passed since that fateful morning in the Blue Palace and his heart still ached over her death, and he wished for nothing more than to hear Anska whisper in his head once again. The night wore on, and he polished off the remainder of a fifth bottle and chucked it over the precipice.
Alcohol helped dull the pain, but in a past life he’d been wise enough to know that it only offered temporary solace. For six months Cain had been on his own, always on the move and bouncing from menial jobs to meaningless tasks at the behest of whoever ran the tavern he found himself in at any given time. The mead became more and more enticing while the rabbit hole deepened. His thoughts grew darker and darker every day and eventually he stopped being careful when dealing with the louts he often tracked down.
And now he stood on that looming cliff while the mead drove those familiar dark thoughts to the forefront. He looked down at the rocky crags far below and wondered if he’d feel anything at all when his drunken mind and body lay broken and bloodied across them. Would it be a release from misery? Would he finally see his beloved Anska again? Or we he simply cease to be alive? Dead, but alone. Turned away from the fated realm of Sovngarde by a cowardly act.
He looked down and found that at this moment, after months of anguish and self-torment… he didn’t care anymore. A sixth bottle was drained and slipped from his fingers to join the other five far below. Cain lifted a leg to step forward and follow the bottle to its doom when he suddenly found himself rigid, his body bound in place by a swirl of green magicks that slowly dragged him back from the ledge. He turned to look for the source and just barely saw the flashing hilt of a dagger before it crashed into his head and knocked him unconscious.
It was morning when he finally came to. A warm fire crackled merrily next to him but someone had bound his hands and feet with rough cords that bit and itched at his skin. Looking around, he saw a hooded figure sitting nearby. It was dressed in tattered robes and there were strange runes etched into its skin that Cain swore were glowing in the soft sunlight of dawn. He was just starting to struggle against the bindings when he realized something was different… the fog was gone from his mind. It was as if weeks and weeks of inebriated thoughts had simply vanished, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t crave another bottle the moment he woke up.
The initial rustling from his struggle garnered his rescuer’s attention and the diminutive form of a woman now stood over him. She regarded him curiously for a few seconds before kneeling down and severing the bindings from his wrists and ankles. Cain sat up and addressed her immediately.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “What have you done to me?”
“You could try being grateful,” said the woman. “A simple ‘thanks’ would be a good start. I could have let you die and taken the bounty for myself, with none the wiser. And I definitely didn’t need to purge all that booze from your system.”
Then it all came back to him: the mead, the dark thoughts, and a hazy memory of having one foot off the cliff and nearly plummeting to his death. Had he really been that close to ending it all? The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but he always shook it off as just the alcohol talking. And now that his mind was somehow cleared, the enormity of how far gone he was smashed into him like a ton of bricks.
“Oh, gods,” said Cain, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is what I’ve become.”
“Still waiting for that ‘thank you.”
Cain sighed. This person reminded him very much of his sister, whom he’d begun to miss quite a lot. “Thank you,” he said to her. “Whoever the hell you are,” he added.
“Name’s Gwyn. And you owe me for the help, and for the bounty you stole, Mr. Windborne.”
“Wait, how in the world do you know who I am?” he asked in surprise. “I’m very certain I didn’t tell you, nor that we’ve ever met before!”
“You’re the High King of Skyrim’s only son, idiot. Believe it or not, people outside of that frigid place know who you are, they’re usually just too busy with inane bullshit to put two and two together. What I really want to know is why the hell you are all the way out here, and why you tried to off yourself last night.”
“That’s my business, not yours. Why did you save me, anyway?”
“That’s my business, not yours,” came the mocking reply.
He looked at her for a few seconds and felt himself smile despite all that had happened in the last day. This woman had no reason nor any responsibility to do what she had done last night, yet she had saved his life anyway. And here he was, expecting answers from her when he refused to give any himself. Then he felt his stomach growl, and decided he would rustle up something to eat first. Opening his bag, Cain fished out a loaf of bread and started toasting the outside of it over the fire while he answered Gwyn’s questions.
“Okay, fair is fair,” he said. “Lemme see here… hm. You say you recognized me, yeah? Did you also hear anything about an attack towards the end of last year?”
“You mean when your wife was killed?” she asked him bluntly. “Sorry, that was insensitive. It’s obvious that you aren’t over that.”
“Fiancé, but yes,” said Cain, dabbing at the corner of his eyes. “And our unborn child, which wasn’t advertised. I left shortly after that to be alone for a while, which in hindsight was probably a mistake. My family would have been more helpful than the mead was, I think.”
“The mead isn’t the problem, Cain, it just exacerbated things for you. We all have trauma and we all deal with it in different ways. The world is a [censored] up place full of [censored] up people, just like us. You need to come to terms with her death and either move on or do something else about it.”
"You speak as if that comes from a place of experience,” probed Cain. “Did you �" “
She cut him off quickly: “Uh uh. No. I’m not the suicidal one here, and we aren’t talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. Last night, I saw the heir to Skyrim’s throne try to kill himself while in a drunken stupor. I used a handy spell to purge the booze from your system so that I could speak to the real you, but the desire for self-harm is still in there, despite the better mood you seem to be in this morning. You need to address that, or you’ll just end up back in that same situation. And there might not be anyone around to save your sorry ass next time.”
That shut Cain up for a while. He wasn’t ignorant enough to deny that everything Gwyn said to him thus far was anything but the truth. She saved his life, and then thoroughly undressed his current station in life. Not a day went by that he didn’t dwell on Anska and the life that could have been, and he was slowly starting to recognize the way his soul had been damaged by his solitary grief. Cain glanced to his left and saw the bag of stolen mead still laying in the dirt next to his tent and knew what the first step needed to be.
Gwyn’s shrewd eyes followed the broken man as he picked up the bag and tossed it over the cliff without hesitation. Maybe he’s not beyond help, she thought to herself. He walked back over to the fire and resumed eating his meager breakfast with a new light in his eyes.
“Hurry up and eat, yeah?” said Gwyn. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until you collect my bounty.”
Cain rolled his eyes. “Bark all you want, but we both know this isn’t about the gold anymore. You saved my life and then you stuck around to peel me apart and see what I would do. No, I think you’ve been on your own for a long time, too, and now you’ve found some whose problems remind you of your own.”
“Like you have any idea �"“
“Said it yourself, miss: the world is full of [censored] up people, just like us. Something tells me we can help each other, or you’d have already left.”
(Present day…)
Cain and Gwyn stepped out onto the street in front of the Cloudy Dregs Inn and looked around in confusion. Wayrest had been relatively quiet the day before, despite the massacre of bandits that had taken place in a boarded-up house near the waterfront. Now, everyone was clamoring around market stands and vendor stalls, pointing at something and chattering excitedly. Gwyn motioned for him to say there and she ducked off quickly to see what the commotion was all about.
Not thirty seconds later, she returned to his side with a copy of the morning newspaper and shoved it into his hands. “You need to get us out of here now! Before someone recognizes you!” she hissed at him. He looked down at the paper and the headline nearly took his breath away.
Emperor Titus Mede II Found Guilty of Treasonous Sedition by the Elder Council!
“I don’t see what…” His eyes scanned down further down the page and stopped near the bottom. The article barely mentioned the attack on the Blue Palace that lead to his forced abdication, but sure enough, it included detailed renditions of his entire family. The familiar faces of Kirin, Lydia, Linneá, Serana, himself, and his late fiancé stared up at him. “Oh, bother. It really does look just like me.”
“Let’s go before you draw a crowd! If word gets out that you’re in High Rock, the royal families will all be searching for you to garner favor with you dad!”
“[censored],” muttered Cain, tossing the paper aside. “Okay, let’s go back inside. We can tell the bartender I left something in my room and I’ll teleport us out from there. No one will see us vanish, and… oh… oh no…”
“What’s wrong now?” asked Gwyn. “What the hell are you �"“
“Top of the house, just across the way,” he whispered.
Gwyn discreetly stole a peek at the aforementioned home but she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. An old woman was out front pruning a rose bush while her husband swept off the flagstone walkway leading to the front door. She was about to ask Cain what he was on about when she noticed the large brown hawk perched on the gable, staring right at them.
“Holy [censored],” said Gwyn. “That’s Kyne, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh,” gulped Cain. “Linn must have broken the news bright and early if she’s already here.”
“What do we do now?!”
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll be able to follow us anywhere, so brace yourself to meet a Divine.”
They hurried back inside and asked the bartender to the room key again. The surly old man refused to let them have it without paying and instead walked down the hall to unlock it for them. Thankfully, he went back to work and left Cain and Gwyn to their own devices. The former shut the door and locked it, put a hand on the latter’s shoulder, and quietly magicked them away to a small cabin tucked away on the Glenumbra Moors.
The unassuming home of Gwyndala Louvain consisted of a single room with an earthen floor. In one corner stood a set of bunk beds, with the top bunk having served as Cain’s home for the last three months. A small fireplace with a cooking spit stood in the center of the eastern wall, the mantle adorned with several oddly shaped hats, and a smattering of dishes and cutlery. Every other square foot of space was crammed with heaping piles of musty old tomes, tables and shelves crowded with alchemy ingredients and enchanting supplies, far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.
As soon as they materialized, she began scooting about in a vain attempt to straighten up her haphazard little home. Cain sat down and watched with a bemused expression, trying his best not to laugh at the sight of Gwyn stuffing clothes into various sacks and overflowing drawers.
“You could help, you know!” she scolded.
“There’s no point,” said Cain. “Mum isn’t going to care about how messy this place is �" she judges people by their spirit, not by material possessions or lack of organizational skills.”
Gwyn huffed angrily and stood up to lob a pair of dirty stockings at him, when her mouth dropped open and she stared at the doorway to her cabin. Silhouetted in the frame stood the goddess, the bright sunlight outside adding to her ethereal glow. Kyne gazed around with a raised eyebrow, taking in the eccentric abode she’d followed them to.
“You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful!” Gwyn whispered. “How the hell am I supposed to compete with that!”
“You don’t. Nor does she expect you to. Forget about any of your preconceived notions, Gwyn �" Kyne is unique and you’ll know right away what she thinks of you.”
Cain got up from his chair and tried his best to play it cool in his approach to the goddess. He wasn’t at all sure how this conversation would go; especially since he’d elected to forgo his connection to her and Akatosh after his departure from the Blue Palace. At the time, he wanted to make sure he was alone until he felt otherwise, but he’d always hoped to reconnect on his own terms.
“Er. Hey, mum,” he said, trying not to stutter. “Been a long time, huh? Listen �"“
Kyne wasn’t having it. She took a page out of Anska’s book and slapped him across the cheek for his behavior. “I don’t want to hear anything other than a sincere apology for abandoning us come out of your mouth, Cain Windborne. And then, and only then, will I consider letting you call me ‘mum’ again. For now, it’s Kyne, or ma’am, got it?”
“I didn’t abandon anyone!” protested Cain.
“The hell you didn’t,” snarled Kyne. “You needed some time alone, fine. We agreed to that and let you go in relative peace. But you had no right to sever your influence from me! Ten months, Cain! It’s been ten months, and for all we knew you were dead in a ditch somewhere! All I wanted was to keep tabs on you from afar, to make sure you were safe and healthy. I couldn’t even do that, not even for your parent’s sake! And don’t even get me started on your sister not telling me that she’s been visiting you in secret for the last six weeks! Rest assured that she and I are going to have it out soon, too! I can’t believe that you’d stand there and… and…”
She trailed off at the sight of Cain sinking to floor, broken and defeated. This was not the same strong, courageous person she had come to know. Anska’s death clearly still weighed heavily upon him, despite the passage of time and the appearance of a what Kyne guessed was a new friend. Cain picked up one of Gwyn’s frayed and patchy shirts to wipe the tears away from his eyes and then returned it to the pile.
“You’re right, ma’am,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It was selfish of me to do that. I was in a bad place and trust me when I say things did not get any better. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, and everyone else. Don’t be hard on Linneá, either �" she wanted me to come home but I’m not ready. It’s not the right time.”
The goddess felt her resolve soften, and she sat down on the floor with him. She could feel the sadness and guilt emanating from his spirit, and sensed how far he still had to go. “What’s happened, my child?” Then she gestured in Gwyn’s direction: “And, forgive me for not asking before, but who is your friend, here?”
“Oh. Right.” Cain had nearly forgotten about Gwyn during the confrontation. “I guess we can kill two birds with one stone. Kyne, meet Gwyndala Louvain,” he said, beckoning her over. “Gwyn stumbled into my life during it’s darkest hour, and stopped me from throwing myself off a cliff.”
Kyne gasped in shock at his blunt admission. Never had she dreamed that her charge would have fallen so deeply into depression, and she suddenly regretted not trying harder to find him sooner. But, his bravery in admitting such a dark thing gave her hope that Cain was on the mend, and that she would be able to help him through this.
Gwyn stood awkwardly nearby, waiting to formally meet the goddess. Kyne helped Cain to his feet and hugged him before turning to his friend. “Hello, Ms. Gwyndala. I gather Cain has already told you about me?”
“Yeah,” nodded Gwyn. “He earned my trust early on, and vice versa. Deep down, he always knew you’d catch up to him, and he didn’t want me to be caught off guard. And, just Gwyn please �" my full name is so damn formal sounding it makes me sick.”
“Very well, Gwyn,” giggled Kyne. “If Cain trusts you with this secret, then that’s good enough for me. Now then, how about we… oh my.” She paused mid-sentence and focused once again on Cain.
The Redguard had silently knelt down behind them and said a heartfelt prayer to the goddess, laced with love and gratitude for her presence in his life. Their connection of faith was restored, and it surged more powerfully than ever, allowing her a deeper look into his psyche. Beneath the pain and suffering, beneath the loneliness, and beneath the longing to return home, she touched briefly on a singular desire that drove him on with a fierce resolve. But it was only a fleeting feeling and she was unable to discern what it truly was, despite being stunned by its intensity.
“Goodness, Cain!” she threw her arms around him again and hugged him tightly. “You may call me whatever you wish after that display of love and devotion!”
“You’ll always be ‘mum’ to me,” he said. “I truly am sorry for the pain I caused you.”
“It’s fine, dear, put it out of your mind.” She dried her eyes and beamed happily at him. With a flick of her wrist, three chairs rose up from around the room, shook themselves in the air to dislodge any of Gwyn’s stray belongings, and floated over to where they stood. Once the three of them were seated, she gazed keenly at him. “Now, where were we… Ah, yes! I was about to ask you two what exactly it is that you’re up to out here. And after sensing that drive you were trying so hard to tamp down, Cain, I find myself doubly curious.”
(Four months ago…)
Cain swayed dangerously atop a steep cliff face high in the mountains outside of Evermore. It had been an arduous trek up a rocky path in pursuit of a brigand who’d been terrorizing a local village tucked away among the lofty peaks of eastern High Rock. The job paid well and the poorly trained target had been trivial for Cain to eliminate, but the hunt had run into nightfall and so he decided to set up camp for the night in lieu of returning to the village.
The dead man he’d chased down had a backpack full of stolen mead from a local brewery. How he acquired it was likely one of the many reasons a bounty had been incurred, but Cain started helping himself to it nonetheless. Nearly six months had passed since that fateful morning in the Blue Palace and his heart still ached over her death, and he wished for nothing more than to hear Anska whisper in his head once again. The night wore on, and he polished off the remainder of a fifth bottle and chucked it over the precipice.
Alcohol helped dull the pain, but in a past life he’d been wise enough to know that it only offered temporary solace. For six months Cain had been on his own, always on the move and bouncing from menial jobs to meaningless tasks at the behest of whoever ran the tavern he found himself in at any given time. The mead became more and more enticing while the rabbit hole deepened. His thoughts grew darker and darker every day and eventually he stopped being careful when dealing with the louts he often tracked down.
And now he stood on that looming cliff while the mead drove those familiar dark thoughts to the forefront. He looked down at the rocky crags far below and wondered if he’d feel anything at all when his drunken mind and body lay broken and bloodied across them. Would it be a release from misery? Would he finally see his beloved Anska again? Or we he simply cease to be alive? Dead, but alone. Turned away from the fated realm of Sovngarde by a cowardly act.
He looked down and found that at this moment, after months of anguish and self-torment… he didn’t care anymore. A sixth bottle was drained and slipped from his fingers to join the other five far below. Cain lifted a leg to step forward and follow the bottle to its doom when he suddenly found himself rigid, his body bound in place by a swirl of green magicks that slowly dragged him back from the ledge. He turned to look for the source and just barely saw the flashing hilt of a dagger before it crashed into his head and knocked him unconscious.
It was morning when he finally came to. A warm fire crackled merrily next to him but someone had bound his hands and feet with rough cords that bit and itched at his skin. Looking around, he saw a hooded figure sitting nearby. It was dressed in tattered robes and there were strange runes etched into its skin that Cain swore were glowing in the soft sunlight of dawn. He was just starting to struggle against the bindings when he realized something was different… the fog was gone from his mind. It was as if weeks and weeks of inebriated thoughts had simply vanished, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t crave another bottle the moment he woke up.
The initial rustling from his struggle garnered his rescuer’s attention and the diminutive form of a woman now stood over him. She regarded him curiously for a few seconds before kneeling down and severing the bindings from his wrists and ankles. Cain sat up and addressed her immediately.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “What have you done to me?”
“You could try being grateful,” said the woman. “A simple ‘thanks’ would be a good start. I could have let you die and taken the bounty for myself, with none the wiser. And I definitely didn’t need to purge all that booze from your system.”
Then it all came back to him: the mead, the dark thoughts, and a hazy memory of having one foot off the cliff and nearly plummeting to his death. Had he really been that close to ending it all? The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but he always shook it off as just the alcohol talking. And now that his mind was somehow cleared, the enormity of how far gone he was smashed into him like a ton of bricks.
“Oh, gods,” said Cain, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t believe this is what I’ve become.”
“Still waiting for that ‘thank you.”
Cain sighed. This person reminded him very much of his sister, whom he’d begun to miss quite a lot. “Thank you,” he said to her. “Whoever the hell you are,” he added.
“Name’s Gwyn. And you owe me for the help, and for the bounty you stole, Mr. Windborne.”
“Wait, how in the world do you know who I am?” he asked in surprise. “I’m very certain I didn’t tell you, nor that we’ve ever met before!”
“You’re the High King of Skyrim’s only son, idiot. Believe it or not, people outside of that frigid place know who you are, they’re usually just too busy with inane bullshit to put two and two together. What I really want to know is why the hell you are all the way out here, and why you tried to off yourself last night.”
“That’s my business, not yours. Why did you save me, anyway?”
“That’s my business, not yours,” came the mocking reply.
He looked at her for a few seconds and felt himself smile despite all that had happened in the last day. This woman had no reason nor any responsibility to do what she had done last night, yet she had saved his life anyway. And here he was, expecting answers from her when he refused to give any himself. Then he felt his stomach growl, and decided he would rustle up something to eat first. Opening his bag, Cain fished out a loaf of bread and started toasting the outside of it over the fire while he answered Gwyn’s questions.
“Okay, fair is fair,” he said. “Lemme see here… hm. You say you recognized me, yeah? Did you also hear anything about an attack towards the end of last year?”
“You mean when your wife was killed?” she asked him bluntly. “Sorry, that was insensitive. It’s obvious that you aren’t over that.”
“Fiancé, but yes,” said Cain, dabbing at the corner of his eyes. “And our unborn child, which wasn’t advertised. I left shortly after that to be alone for a while, which in hindsight was probably a mistake. My family would have been more helpful than the mead was, I think.”
“The mead isn’t the problem, Cain, it just exacerbated things for you. We all have trauma and we all deal with it in different ways. The world is a [censored] up place full of [censored] up people, just like us. You need to come to terms with her death and either move on or do something else about it.”
"You speak as if that comes from a place of experience,” probed Cain. “Did you �" “
She cut him off quickly: “Uh uh. No. I’m not the suicidal one here, and we aren’t talking about me right now. We’re talking about you. Last night, I saw the heir to Skyrim’s throne try to kill himself while in a drunken stupor. I used a handy spell to purge the booze from your system so that I could speak to the real you, but the desire for self-harm is still in there, despite the better mood you seem to be in this morning. You need to address that, or you’ll just end up back in that same situation. And there might not be anyone around to save your sorry ass next time.”
That shut Cain up for a while. He wasn’t ignorant enough to deny that everything Gwyn said to him thus far was anything but the truth. She saved his life, and then thoroughly undressed his current station in life. Not a day went by that he didn’t dwell on Anska and the life that could have been, and he was slowly starting to recognize the way his soul had been damaged by his solitary grief. Cain glanced to his left and saw the bag of stolen mead still laying in the dirt next to his tent and knew what the first step needed to be.
Gwyn’s shrewd eyes followed the broken man as he picked up the bag and tossed it over the cliff without hesitation. Maybe he’s not beyond help, she thought to herself. He walked back over to the fire and resumed eating his meager breakfast with a new light in his eyes.
“Hurry up and eat, yeah?” said Gwyn. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until you collect my bounty.”
Cain rolled his eyes. “Bark all you want, but we both know this isn’t about the gold anymore. You saved my life and then you stuck around to peel me apart and see what I would do. No, I think you’ve been on your own for a long time, too, and now you’ve found some whose problems remind you of your own.”
“Like you have any idea �"“
“Said it yourself, miss: the world is full of [censored] up people, just like us. Something tells me we can help each other, or you’d have already left.”
-----
(Present day…)
Cain and Gwyn stepped out onto the street in front of the Cloudy Dregs Inn and looked around in confusion. Wayrest had been relatively quiet the day before, despite the massacre of bandits that had taken place in a boarded-up house near the waterfront. Now, everyone was clamoring around market stands and vendor stalls, pointing at something and chattering excitedly. Gwyn motioned for him to say there and she ducked off quickly to see what the commotion was all about.
Not thirty seconds later, she returned to his side with a copy of the morning newspaper and shoved it into his hands. “You need to get us out of here now! Before someone recognizes you!” she hissed at him. He looked down at the paper and the headline nearly took his breath away.
Emperor Titus Mede II Found Guilty of Treasonous Sedition by the Elder Council!
“I don’t see what…” His eyes scanned down further down the page and stopped near the bottom. The article barely mentioned the attack on the Blue Palace that lead to his forced abdication, but sure enough, it included detailed renditions of his entire family. The familiar faces of Kirin, Lydia, Linneá, Serana, himself, and his late fiancé stared up at him. “Oh, bother. It really does look just like me.”
“Let’s go before you draw a crowd! If word gets out that you’re in High Rock, the royal families will all be searching for you to garner favor with you dad!”
“[censored],” muttered Cain, tossing the paper aside. “Okay, let’s go back inside. We can tell the bartender I left something in my room and I’ll teleport us out from there. No one will see us vanish, and… oh… oh no…”
“What’s wrong now?” asked Gwyn. “What the hell are you �"“
“Top of the house, just across the way,” he whispered.
Gwyn discreetly stole a peek at the aforementioned home but she didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. An old woman was out front pruning a rose bush while her husband swept off the flagstone walkway leading to the front door. She was about to ask Cain what he was on about when she noticed the large brown hawk perched on the gable, staring right at them.
“Holy [censored],” said Gwyn. “That’s Kyne, isn’t it?”
“Uh huh,” gulped Cain. “Linn must have broken the news bright and early if she’s already here.”
“What do we do now?!”
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll be able to follow us anywhere, so brace yourself to meet a Divine.”
They hurried back inside and asked the bartender to the room key again. The surly old man refused to let them have it without paying and instead walked down the hall to unlock it for them. Thankfully, he went back to work and left Cain and Gwyn to their own devices. The former shut the door and locked it, put a hand on the latter’s shoulder, and quietly magicked them away to a small cabin tucked away on the Glenumbra Moors.
The unassuming home of Gwyndala Louvain consisted of a single room with an earthen floor. In one corner stood a set of bunk beds, with the top bunk having served as Cain’s home for the last three months. A small fireplace with a cooking spit stood in the center of the eastern wall, the mantle adorned with several oddly shaped hats, and a smattering of dishes and cutlery. Every other square foot of space was crammed with heaping piles of musty old tomes, tables and shelves crowded with alchemy ingredients and enchanting supplies, far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.
As soon as they materialized, she began scooting about in a vain attempt to straighten up her haphazard little home. Cain sat down and watched with a bemused expression, trying his best not to laugh at the sight of Gwyn stuffing clothes into various sacks and overflowing drawers.
“You could help, you know!” she scolded.
“There’s no point,” said Cain. “Mum isn’t going to care about how messy this place is �" she judges people by their spirit, not by material possessions or lack of organizational skills.”
Gwyn huffed angrily and stood up to lob a pair of dirty stockings at him, when her mouth dropped open and she stared at the doorway to her cabin. Silhouetted in the frame stood the goddess, the bright sunlight outside adding to her ethereal glow. Kyne gazed around with a raised eyebrow, taking in the eccentric abode she’d followed them to.
“You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful!” Gwyn whispered. “How the hell am I supposed to compete with that!”
“You don’t. Nor does she expect you to. Forget about any of your preconceived notions, Gwyn �" Kyne is unique and you’ll know right away what she thinks of you.”
Cain got up from his chair and tried his best to play it cool in his approach to the goddess. He wasn’t at all sure how this conversation would go; especially since he’d elected to forgo his connection to her and Akatosh after his departure from the Blue Palace. At the time, he wanted to make sure he was alone until he felt otherwise, but he’d always hoped to reconnect on his own terms.
“Er. Hey, mum,” he said, trying not to stutter. “Been a long time, huh? Listen �"“
Kyne wasn’t having it. She took a page out of Anska’s book and slapped him across the cheek for his behavior. “I don’t want to hear anything other than a sincere apology for abandoning us come out of your mouth, Cain Windborne. And then, and only then, will I consider letting you call me ‘mum’ again. For now, it’s Kyne, or ma’am, got it?”
“I didn’t abandon anyone!” protested Cain.
“The hell you didn’t,” snarled Kyne. “You needed some time alone, fine. We agreed to that and let you go in relative peace. But you had no right to sever your influence from me! Ten months, Cain! It’s been ten months, and for all we knew you were dead in a ditch somewhere! All I wanted was to keep tabs on you from afar, to make sure you were safe and healthy. I couldn’t even do that, not even for your parent’s sake! And don’t even get me started on your sister not telling me that she’s been visiting you in secret for the last six weeks! Rest assured that she and I are going to have it out soon, too! I can’t believe that you’d stand there and… and…”
She trailed off at the sight of Cain sinking to floor, broken and defeated. This was not the same strong, courageous person she had come to know. Anska’s death clearly still weighed heavily upon him, despite the passage of time and the appearance of a what Kyne guessed was a new friend. Cain picked up one of Gwyn’s frayed and patchy shirts to wipe the tears away from his eyes and then returned it to the pile.
“You’re right, ma’am,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It was selfish of me to do that. I was in a bad place and trust me when I say things did not get any better. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, and everyone else. Don’t be hard on Linneá, either �" she wanted me to come home but I’m not ready. It’s not the right time.”
The goddess felt her resolve soften, and she sat down on the floor with him. She could feel the sadness and guilt emanating from his spirit, and sensed how far he still had to go. “What’s happened, my child?” Then she gestured in Gwyn’s direction: “And, forgive me for not asking before, but who is your friend, here?”
“Oh. Right.” Cain had nearly forgotten about Gwyn during the confrontation. “I guess we can kill two birds with one stone. Kyne, meet Gwyndala Louvain,” he said, beckoning her over. “Gwyn stumbled into my life during it’s darkest hour, and stopped me from throwing myself off a cliff.”
Kyne gasped in shock at his blunt admission. Never had she dreamed that her charge would have fallen so deeply into depression, and she suddenly regretted not trying harder to find him sooner. But, his bravery in admitting such a dark thing gave her hope that Cain was on the mend, and that she would be able to help him through this.
Gwyn stood awkwardly nearby, waiting to formally meet the goddess. Kyne helped Cain to his feet and hugged him before turning to his friend. “Hello, Ms. Gwyndala. I gather Cain has already told you about me?”
“Yeah,” nodded Gwyn. “He earned my trust early on, and vice versa. Deep down, he always knew you’d catch up to him, and he didn’t want me to be caught off guard. And, just Gwyn please �" my full name is so damn formal sounding it makes me sick.”
“Very well, Gwyn,” giggled Kyne. “If Cain trusts you with this secret, then that’s good enough for me. Now then, how about we… oh my.” She paused mid-sentence and focused once again on Cain.
The Redguard had silently knelt down behind them and said a heartfelt prayer to the goddess, laced with love and gratitude for her presence in his life. Their connection of faith was restored, and it surged more powerfully than ever, allowing her a deeper look into his psyche. Beneath the pain and suffering, beneath the loneliness, and beneath the longing to return home, she touched briefly on a singular desire that drove him on with a fierce resolve. But it was only a fleeting feeling and she was unable to discern what it truly was, despite being stunned by its intensity.
“Goodness, Cain!” she threw her arms around him again and hugged him tightly. “You may call me whatever you wish after that display of love and devotion!”
“You’ll always be ‘mum’ to me,” he said. “I truly am sorry for the pain I caused you.”
“It’s fine, dear, put it out of your mind.” She dried her eyes and beamed happily at him. With a flick of her wrist, three chairs rose up from around the room, shook themselves in the air to dislodge any of Gwyn’s stray belongings, and floated over to where they stood. Once the three of them were seated, she gazed keenly at him. “Now, where were we… Ah, yes! I was about to ask you two what exactly it is that you’re up to out here. And after sensing that drive you were trying so hard to tamp down, Cain, I find myself doubly curious.”
The flashback to how Cain met Gwyndala Louvain (love her name by the way) really helped fill in some gaps from the last episodes. Gwyn sounds like a good sort and Cain’s lucky she intervened.
And Mede is out! Uh-oh, but so is Cain’s picture. So it’s off to Gwyn’s place.
’…far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.’
- - Pfft. Every woman knows it’s not possible to have too many shoes!
A wonderful visit from an angry goddess who wastes no time dressing down Cain. All is eventually forgiven though and even Gwyn is welcomed into the clan.
And Mede is out! Uh-oh, but so is Cain’s picture. So it’s off to Gwyn’s place.
’…far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.’
- - Pfft. Every woman knows it’s not possible to have too many shoes!
A wonderful visit from an angry goddess who wastes no time dressing down Cain. All is eventually forgiven though and even Gwyn is welcomed into the clan.
Chapter XXXIX �" First Impressions
“Yeah, no, we can’t get into that with you, mum,” said Cain, evasively.
Gwyn bit nervously at her fingernails. She had believed her friend completely when he first explained his unique relationship to Kyne, but a small part of her never imagined she’d actually be sitting across from one of the Divines in her own home. Nor did she expect him to outright refuse to answer a pointed question about anything, let alone their unhinged plan.
For her part, Kyne seemed completely nonplussed about his sharp refusal. “Should I be exceedingly worried about anything, my child? I can’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t be… persuaded to go home for a while, instead of living abroad with unknown intentions. I feel better about being able to keep tabs on you again, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for you wander about Tamriel.”
“We’ll be fine, I promise. You know that I can handle myself, and trust me when I say that there is more to Gwyn here than meets the eye. I don’t even think Linn or Serana would want to be on her bad side.”
“Well, now,” said Kyne. “That’s certainly a ringing endorsement, miss Gwyn! I think you and I ought to get to know each other a little better!”
Gwyn blushed a deeper shade of red than Cain had ever seen before, and her hair changed from the utter black color she’d awoken with to a bright pink he learned early on denoted an embarrassed pleasure. “[censored] me, thank you. Oh, sorry about that, ma’am. Cain once told me that you’re used to his sister being crass, but he also had to double check that I wasn’t a sailor in a past life.”
“Think nothing of it, dear,” mused Kyne. “Although, I might take insult to someone insinuating I was a foul-mouthed cur from the sea port.”
“Oh, she did,” chuckled Cain. “Invited me to shove my head up my ass and then she ditched me near Shornhelm for a couple of days.”
“You deserved it.”
Kyne giggled at their familial banter and stole a quick peek into Cain’s psyche while he playfully jabbed back and forth with Gwyn. She was pleased to see a genuine contentedness settling down within, and began to understand why Cain didn’t feel an overwhelming need to return home just yet. His new friend was helping him heal, even if he didn’t recognize it for himself yet. She withdrew before he noticed, and just in time to hear Linneá’s voice whisper softly at her.
Can you spare an hour, mum? Dad is anxious to hear more about Cain.
On my way.
“Ahem,” said Kyne, politely clearing her throat. “Linn needs something, dearies. I’m heading back to Solitude for now but I’ll check in again later.”
Cain nodded, “I’ll keep an eye out for you, mum. Please tell my parents… well…” He suddenly found that he didn’t quite know what he wanted to convey. How does one apologize sincerely with just a few words relayed through another? ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t feel like enough to cut it, and yet Cain knew he had to offer something. “I…”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” assuaged Kyne. “I’ll make sure they understand.” She waved goodbye to them both, morphed into her hawk avatar, and soared out the front door.
Cain walked over to the doorway and watched her fly off into the distance until she was out of sight. After shutting the door and locking it, he turned back to Gwyn and shrugged nonchalantly. “That could have gone much worse than it did. I’ll have to thank Linn sometime for pulling her away before she could circle back to what we’re up to. She didn’t notice the books we’ve collected, did she?”
“You mean the ones I stashed in my dimensional storage? Obviously not, or she’d have blown her lid.” At this, Gwyn raised her hand and flexed her fingers into an odd symbol that summoned a small dark chest on the floor between them. “Maybe the next time I tell you to hide them better you’ll take me seriously, dumb ass. Although, it was amusing to see a goddess come in firing on all cylinders like that. I’m surprised she didn’t grab you by the ear and haul you back to Solitude herself! I see why you all refer to her as ‘mum’.”
Kneeling down and prying open the mysterious container, Cain began to pull out the volumes they’d been amassing over the last few weeks and laid them out in no particular order. He’d been halfway through one of the hefty tomes they’d found in Shornhelm before their trip to Wayrest and was eager to dive back in while Gwyn went outside to continue practicing her rituals. Finding it at last, he grabbed it and settled down near the window and buried his nose in its dense pages once again.
The hours flew by and the sun began to sink below the horizon, taking with it the light that beamed through the window of Gwyn’s cabin. Starving and unable to see the pages anymore, Cain went about fixing dinner for them. He was about to throw a hunk of persevered venison on the cooking spit when Gwyn’s earlier chastisement of his actions floated through his mind. Setting the meat down, he gathered up the books, tossed them into the chest, and gave it a swift kick to dematerialize it.
“And who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” said Gwyn, smugly. Cain hadn’t heard her come back in from outside and startled upright at the sound of her voice. “Hah, got ya that time, didn’t I? Need to pay more attention, Mr. Prince. Anyway, what are you burning for dinner this time, cause so far it just smells like [censored]…”
“Keep it up and it’ll be a meal for one,” replied Cain. “Or would you rather go back to grazing the way you did before I started cooking real food for you?” He slid the venison onto the spit and reached for a small box of spices resting on the mantle. The familiar pang of sadness and longing hit him full on while he rifled through Anska’s collection of herbs and seasonings, looking for the jar she’d labeled for venison steaks. Pulling it from the box, Cain unscrewed the lid and sprinkled copious amounts onto the rotating hunk of meat.
“Alright, you got me,” said Gwyn. “That is starting to smell pretty damn good. How’d your research go?”
“Not as many answers as I’d hoped for. What about you? Will you be ready when it’s time?”
“I’m always ready. Just make sure you work out the theory for me. All that timey-wimey bullshit makes my [censored] head spin. Dunno how I let you talk me into this madness.”
(Three to four months ago…)
Gwyndala’s wrists were raw and bloody from the manacles that bound them tightly together. A rope lead had been tied to a leather collar wrapped tightly around her neck, and the disgusting brute of a man that dragged her onward did so with brutal intent. Two more foul-smelling pigs flanked her from both sides, and a fourth brought up the rear, prodding her every few seconds with the butt end of his spear. Her back was covered in bruises, and blood oozed from a deep gash on her cheek that she’d received from the initial struggle against her captors.
They’d come upon her in the dead of night and before she was even fully awake, Gwyn’s hands were bound, and a filthy gag that made her stomach turn had been stuffed into her mouth. Not knowing where she was being led, her terrified thoughts began to wander and eventually landed on the regret that she knew would rear its ugly head.
After traveling together for nearly a month, Gwyn had unceremoniously told Cain to get lost over what she now knew to be a trivial matter. The poor man had been grateful for her intervention outside of Evermore, and he just wanted to get to know her better. And she’d done nothing but shut him out and shut him down. Now he was gone, chased out by her unwillingness to connect with anyone, while she was trotted off like a prized slave to whatever grisly fate these bastards had in store for her.
It was near dawn when her feet nearly gave out beneath her from the long night of forced marching. Ready to collapse and beg for a break and some water, she exhaled a long sigh of relief when the bandits stopped in a clearing and decided to make camp for the day. They lashed her thin frame to a poplar tree at the edge of the forest and set about making a campfire. Gwyn’s head bobbed up and down with exhaustion. Every ounce of her body screamed for sleep but she didn’t dare let herself be more unguarded than she already was. She shook her head vigorously to keep herself from passing out, and that was when she noticed the asshole with the spear.
He was staring hungrily at her while the other three louts poured ale down their gullets and boasted loudly to each other over a frugal breakfast. Gwyn knew that look all too well and her insides froze when she locked eyes with that monster. He got up and slowly shuffled towards her, drawing a long steel dagger from his belt as he came nearer to the tree. She began to struggle furiously against the bindings in vain, desperately trying to get even a single hand free so that she could unleash hell on them with her magick. Nothing budged, and he grew ever closer until his hot, disgusting breath assaulted her nose. He raised the dagger and slowly slipped it down the front of her patchy robe until what remained of the garment fell to the ground, exposing her naked body to her tormentor.
Gwyn closed her eyes in fear and shook violently against the restraints. And then a curious sensation fell over her �" it was as if time itself slowed to a crawl, and every miniscule action seemed to draw on for uncounted moments. Her eyes eked back open and she flinched in horror at the sight of a dirty hand hovering a hair’s breadth above her exposed groin. Then a gleaming flash arced down in front of her and the hand slowly fell to the ground, severed cleanly above the wrist. Another flash, and the pig’s head fell to the ground at a comically slow pace.
Cain kicked the still falling brigand out of the way and rushed towards the other three men at normal speed. Within seconds, they all fell dead to his keen silver longsword, unable to react quick enough to mount even the most meager of defenses against his swift retribution. He sheathed the sword just as time sped back up, and then rushed to Gwyn’s side and began freeing her from captivity. The final cord snapped free and she collapsed into his waiting arms, sobbing heavily and shivering in the cold. Cain held her close with one arm and with the other he slid his pack to the ground and pulled out a blanket to wrap around the frightened and naked woman.
He consoled her for several minutes before leading her over to the crackling campfire and shoving the bandit corpses out of the way. They sat in silence for a bit while Cain handed her a canteen of water and started making a rudimentary stew from what little food he had on hand. A few moments later, Gwyn stood up and walked back over to the tree she’d been bound to and stared down at the headless man who had almost raped her. She bent over to pick up her ruined robes and Cain had to look away when the blanket fell to her feet. Draping it back over her shoulders, Gwyn grabbed some of the cord that had bound her to the tree and tied the remnants of her clothes back together.
Cain was about to call her back to eat something when her angry shrieks filled the morning air. She kicked and stomped at the lifeless body over and over again, spitting terrible insults at it, and spouting terrible curses over the man’s soul until she almost had enough. Cain saw the red magicks beginning to ignite in her hands and had to look away once again while her brutal spell ripped the flesh from his bones and scattered it about the edge of the clearing.
She marched back over to the fire and stood before Cain expectantly, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. “Take me home. Now. I need a bath.”
The sun was just starting to burn off the morning dew when Gwyndala joined Cain at a small table outside of her cabin. She was wearing a far more modest set of robes with a flowy tasset hanging from her waist and she smelled of fresh primrose from her long soak in the tub. Her long curly hair was tied up in a hasty ponytail, and had turned a deep bloodred after the harrowing ordeal. Cain sipped at his coffee while she stared out over the moor.
“I, um… I don’t… ah, [censored]. Thank you, Cain,” she said. “You didn’t have to come back for me, especially after how I treated you. And yet you did anyway. For that, I’ll be forever grateful. Another few seconds and.. and…”
“Don’t dwell on it, Gwyn. It’s not worth the torment.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. How’d you find me anyway?”
“I never went very far after you told me to [censored] off. I figured I would just give you some time to cool off and then check back in the morning. Found your abandoned camp and followed the set of tracks that led away. It was obvious that something terrible had happened, so I double-timed it until I heard those idiots carrying on and making a ton of noise. My blood froze when I saw what was about to happen to you…”
Gwyn swallowed hard and tried to force the memories out of her mind. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” she said. “Life hasn’t been easy for me and I never let anyone in. You were just trying to be friendly and I blocked you out entirely. I’m still not about to tell you my life story, but I won’t be such a bitch anymore. That’s the best I can offer for now.”
“How about we just call it even and see what happens from there?” said Cain.
“Deal.”
(Present day….)
“As I recall, you were more curious about the implications of it than I was,” said Cain. “Your eyes lit up the moment I mentioned it.”
“From a practical standpoint, yes. I’m always looking to increase my grasp on magick and that particular brand of it has always been somewhat of a mystery. Can’t help but be curious.”
“Yeah, well…” Cain trailed off and glanced down at this forearm. The hairs were standing on end, and he felt a peculiar but all too familiar sensation overcome him. “Hm, Kyne must have given my family the rundown on us. You’re about to meet Linneá.”
“WHAT?!”
A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the dim cabin as Cain’s sister appeared in Gwyn’s home for the first time. She bore a set of black leather armor trimmed with crimson accents and steel studs that Cain had never seen before. The gauntlets on her wrist were also of forged steel and they flowed from her elbows down to razor-sharp points at the fingertips while a long leather skirt of the same accented deep red flowed out from her waist. It made her look very intimidating and Cain figured that was by design.
“Why, hello, brother,” said Linneá. “Care to tell me why you’ve been hiding your friend here from me during my visits of over the last few weeks?”
“Excuse me,” said Gwyn, “but who the hell are you to barge into my house uninvited? Do they not teach manners at the Blue Palace, Princess? Or are you just used to doing whatever the hell you please?”
Linneá studied her tiny frame up and down. “You’re Gwen, I take it?”
“Gwyndala Louvain, and you still haven’t answered my question. What the [censored] are you doing in my house?” She stared unblinkingly up into Linneá’s hazel eyes.
The taller than average Nord woman towered over the little Breton but Cain’s sister knew better than most that size didn’t betray anything. A gentle smile played at the edges of her mouth while she returned the gaze and she eventually broke the stony silence.
“You’re not afraid of anyone, are you, miss Gwyn? How is it that my brother here always finds the most interesting women while Serana and I are stuck dealing with the haughty bimbos that traipse through the palace? Linneá Windborne, pleased to meet you. And I do apologize for dropping in unannounced, but I just had to meet this mysterious new friend that Kyne told us about.”
The situation defused and Cain breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nice to meet you, too, Linn. I’ve heard a lot about you and your wife.”
“Indeed? I wish I could say the same, but I think we’ll have plenty of time for that.” Linneá glanced around the messy cabin in amusement, taking in the clutter of Gwyn’s life. Her eyes came to rest on the noticeably empty spot where Cain had dispelled the magickal chest from, and she waved a hand idly at it. A minor bolt of probing magick highlighted its silhouette and she looked back at them curiously.
“So, what kind of secrets are you keeping in there, you two? Would it have to do with that Kyne mentioned you were hiding?”
“Yeah, no, we can’t get into that with you, mum,” said Cain, evasively.
Gwyn bit nervously at her fingernails. She had believed her friend completely when he first explained his unique relationship to Kyne, but a small part of her never imagined she’d actually be sitting across from one of the Divines in her own home. Nor did she expect him to outright refuse to answer a pointed question about anything, let alone their unhinged plan.
For her part, Kyne seemed completely nonplussed about his sharp refusal. “Should I be exceedingly worried about anything, my child? I can’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t be… persuaded to go home for a while, instead of living abroad with unknown intentions. I feel better about being able to keep tabs on you again, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for you wander about Tamriel.”
“We’ll be fine, I promise. You know that I can handle myself, and trust me when I say that there is more to Gwyn here than meets the eye. I don’t even think Linn or Serana would want to be on her bad side.”
“Well, now,” said Kyne. “That’s certainly a ringing endorsement, miss Gwyn! I think you and I ought to get to know each other a little better!”
Gwyn blushed a deeper shade of red than Cain had ever seen before, and her hair changed from the utter black color she’d awoken with to a bright pink he learned early on denoted an embarrassed pleasure. “[censored] me, thank you. Oh, sorry about that, ma’am. Cain once told me that you’re used to his sister being crass, but he also had to double check that I wasn’t a sailor in a past life.”
“Think nothing of it, dear,” mused Kyne. “Although, I might take insult to someone insinuating I was a foul-mouthed cur from the sea port.”
“Oh, she did,” chuckled Cain. “Invited me to shove my head up my ass and then she ditched me near Shornhelm for a couple of days.”
“You deserved it.”
Kyne giggled at their familial banter and stole a quick peek into Cain’s psyche while he playfully jabbed back and forth with Gwyn. She was pleased to see a genuine contentedness settling down within, and began to understand why Cain didn’t feel an overwhelming need to return home just yet. His new friend was helping him heal, even if he didn’t recognize it for himself yet. She withdrew before he noticed, and just in time to hear Linneá’s voice whisper softly at her.
Can you spare an hour, mum? Dad is anxious to hear more about Cain.
On my way.
“Ahem,” said Kyne, politely clearing her throat. “Linn needs something, dearies. I’m heading back to Solitude for now but I’ll check in again later.”
Cain nodded, “I’ll keep an eye out for you, mum. Please tell my parents… well…” He suddenly found that he didn’t quite know what he wanted to convey. How does one apologize sincerely with just a few words relayed through another? ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t feel like enough to cut it, and yet Cain knew he had to offer something. “I…”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” assuaged Kyne. “I’ll make sure they understand.” She waved goodbye to them both, morphed into her hawk avatar, and soared out the front door.
Cain walked over to the doorway and watched her fly off into the distance until she was out of sight. After shutting the door and locking it, he turned back to Gwyn and shrugged nonchalantly. “That could have gone much worse than it did. I’ll have to thank Linn sometime for pulling her away before she could circle back to what we’re up to. She didn’t notice the books we’ve collected, did she?”
“You mean the ones I stashed in my dimensional storage? Obviously not, or she’d have blown her lid.” At this, Gwyn raised her hand and flexed her fingers into an odd symbol that summoned a small dark chest on the floor between them. “Maybe the next time I tell you to hide them better you’ll take me seriously, dumb ass. Although, it was amusing to see a goddess come in firing on all cylinders like that. I’m surprised she didn’t grab you by the ear and haul you back to Solitude herself! I see why you all refer to her as ‘mum’.”
Kneeling down and prying open the mysterious container, Cain began to pull out the volumes they’d been amassing over the last few weeks and laid them out in no particular order. He’d been halfway through one of the hefty tomes they’d found in Shornhelm before their trip to Wayrest and was eager to dive back in while Gwyn went outside to continue practicing her rituals. Finding it at last, he grabbed it and settled down near the window and buried his nose in its dense pages once again.
The hours flew by and the sun began to sink below the horizon, taking with it the light that beamed through the window of Gwyn’s cabin. Starving and unable to see the pages anymore, Cain went about fixing dinner for them. He was about to throw a hunk of persevered venison on the cooking spit when Gwyn’s earlier chastisement of his actions floated through his mind. Setting the meat down, he gathered up the books, tossed them into the chest, and gave it a swift kick to dematerialize it.
“And who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” said Gwyn, smugly. Cain hadn’t heard her come back in from outside and startled upright at the sound of her voice. “Hah, got ya that time, didn’t I? Need to pay more attention, Mr. Prince. Anyway, what are you burning for dinner this time, cause so far it just smells like [censored]…”
“Keep it up and it’ll be a meal for one,” replied Cain. “Or would you rather go back to grazing the way you did before I started cooking real food for you?” He slid the venison onto the spit and reached for a small box of spices resting on the mantle. The familiar pang of sadness and longing hit him full on while he rifled through Anska’s collection of herbs and seasonings, looking for the jar she’d labeled for venison steaks. Pulling it from the box, Cain unscrewed the lid and sprinkled copious amounts onto the rotating hunk of meat.
“Alright, you got me,” said Gwyn. “That is starting to smell pretty damn good. How’d your research go?”
“Not as many answers as I’d hoped for. What about you? Will you be ready when it’s time?”
“I’m always ready. Just make sure you work out the theory for me. All that timey-wimey bullshit makes my [censored] head spin. Dunno how I let you talk me into this madness.”
-----
(Three to four months ago…)
Gwyndala’s wrists were raw and bloody from the manacles that bound them tightly together. A rope lead had been tied to a leather collar wrapped tightly around her neck, and the disgusting brute of a man that dragged her onward did so with brutal intent. Two more foul-smelling pigs flanked her from both sides, and a fourth brought up the rear, prodding her every few seconds with the butt end of his spear. Her back was covered in bruises, and blood oozed from a deep gash on her cheek that she’d received from the initial struggle against her captors.
They’d come upon her in the dead of night and before she was even fully awake, Gwyn’s hands were bound, and a filthy gag that made her stomach turn had been stuffed into her mouth. Not knowing where she was being led, her terrified thoughts began to wander and eventually landed on the regret that she knew would rear its ugly head.
After traveling together for nearly a month, Gwyn had unceremoniously told Cain to get lost over what she now knew to be a trivial matter. The poor man had been grateful for her intervention outside of Evermore, and he just wanted to get to know her better. And she’d done nothing but shut him out and shut him down. Now he was gone, chased out by her unwillingness to connect with anyone, while she was trotted off like a prized slave to whatever grisly fate these bastards had in store for her.
It was near dawn when her feet nearly gave out beneath her from the long night of forced marching. Ready to collapse and beg for a break and some water, she exhaled a long sigh of relief when the bandits stopped in a clearing and decided to make camp for the day. They lashed her thin frame to a poplar tree at the edge of the forest and set about making a campfire. Gwyn’s head bobbed up and down with exhaustion. Every ounce of her body screamed for sleep but she didn’t dare let herself be more unguarded than she already was. She shook her head vigorously to keep herself from passing out, and that was when she noticed the asshole with the spear.
He was staring hungrily at her while the other three louts poured ale down their gullets and boasted loudly to each other over a frugal breakfast. Gwyn knew that look all too well and her insides froze when she locked eyes with that monster. He got up and slowly shuffled towards her, drawing a long steel dagger from his belt as he came nearer to the tree. She began to struggle furiously against the bindings in vain, desperately trying to get even a single hand free so that she could unleash hell on them with her magick. Nothing budged, and he grew ever closer until his hot, disgusting breath assaulted her nose. He raised the dagger and slowly slipped it down the front of her patchy robe until what remained of the garment fell to the ground, exposing her naked body to her tormentor.
Gwyn closed her eyes in fear and shook violently against the restraints. And then a curious sensation fell over her �" it was as if time itself slowed to a crawl, and every miniscule action seemed to draw on for uncounted moments. Her eyes eked back open and she flinched in horror at the sight of a dirty hand hovering a hair’s breadth above her exposed groin. Then a gleaming flash arced down in front of her and the hand slowly fell to the ground, severed cleanly above the wrist. Another flash, and the pig’s head fell to the ground at a comically slow pace.
Cain kicked the still falling brigand out of the way and rushed towards the other three men at normal speed. Within seconds, they all fell dead to his keen silver longsword, unable to react quick enough to mount even the most meager of defenses against his swift retribution. He sheathed the sword just as time sped back up, and then rushed to Gwyn’s side and began freeing her from captivity. The final cord snapped free and she collapsed into his waiting arms, sobbing heavily and shivering in the cold. Cain held her close with one arm and with the other he slid his pack to the ground and pulled out a blanket to wrap around the frightened and naked woman.
He consoled her for several minutes before leading her over to the crackling campfire and shoving the bandit corpses out of the way. They sat in silence for a bit while Cain handed her a canteen of water and started making a rudimentary stew from what little food he had on hand. A few moments later, Gwyn stood up and walked back over to the tree she’d been bound to and stared down at the headless man who had almost raped her. She bent over to pick up her ruined robes and Cain had to look away when the blanket fell to her feet. Draping it back over her shoulders, Gwyn grabbed some of the cord that had bound her to the tree and tied the remnants of her clothes back together.
Cain was about to call her back to eat something when her angry shrieks filled the morning air. She kicked and stomped at the lifeless body over and over again, spitting terrible insults at it, and spouting terrible curses over the man’s soul until she almost had enough. Cain saw the red magicks beginning to ignite in her hands and had to look away once again while her brutal spell ripped the flesh from his bones and scattered it about the edge of the clearing.
She marched back over to the fire and stood before Cain expectantly, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. “Take me home. Now. I need a bath.”
-----
The sun was just starting to burn off the morning dew when Gwyndala joined Cain at a small table outside of her cabin. She was wearing a far more modest set of robes with a flowy tasset hanging from her waist and she smelled of fresh primrose from her long soak in the tub. Her long curly hair was tied up in a hasty ponytail, and had turned a deep bloodred after the harrowing ordeal. Cain sipped at his coffee while she stared out over the moor.
“I, um… I don’t… ah, [censored]. Thank you, Cain,” she said. “You didn’t have to come back for me, especially after how I treated you. And yet you did anyway. For that, I’ll be forever grateful. Another few seconds and.. and…”
“Don’t dwell on it, Gwyn. It’s not worth the torment.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. How’d you find me anyway?”
“I never went very far after you told me to [censored] off. I figured I would just give you some time to cool off and then check back in the morning. Found your abandoned camp and followed the set of tracks that led away. It was obvious that something terrible had happened, so I double-timed it until I heard those idiots carrying on and making a ton of noise. My blood froze when I saw what was about to happen to you…”
Gwyn swallowed hard and tried to force the memories out of her mind. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” she said. “Life hasn’t been easy for me and I never let anyone in. You were just trying to be friendly and I blocked you out entirely. I’m still not about to tell you my life story, but I won’t be such a bitch anymore. That’s the best I can offer for now.”
“How about we just call it even and see what happens from there?” said Cain.
“Deal.”
-----
(Present day….)
“As I recall, you were more curious about the implications of it than I was,” said Cain. “Your eyes lit up the moment I mentioned it.”
“From a practical standpoint, yes. I’m always looking to increase my grasp on magick and that particular brand of it has always been somewhat of a mystery. Can’t help but be curious.”
“Yeah, well…” Cain trailed off and glanced down at this forearm. The hairs were standing on end, and he felt a peculiar but all too familiar sensation overcome him. “Hm, Kyne must have given my family the rundown on us. You’re about to meet Linneá.”
“WHAT?!”
A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the dim cabin as Cain’s sister appeared in Gwyn’s home for the first time. She bore a set of black leather armor trimmed with crimson accents and steel studs that Cain had never seen before. The gauntlets on her wrist were also of forged steel and they flowed from her elbows down to razor-sharp points at the fingertips while a long leather skirt of the same accented deep red flowed out from her waist. It made her look very intimidating and Cain figured that was by design.
“Why, hello, brother,” said Linneá. “Care to tell me why you’ve been hiding your friend here from me during my visits of over the last few weeks?”
“Excuse me,” said Gwyn, “but who the hell are you to barge into my house uninvited? Do they not teach manners at the Blue Palace, Princess? Or are you just used to doing whatever the hell you please?”
Linneá studied her tiny frame up and down. “You’re Gwen, I take it?”
“Gwyndala Louvain, and you still haven’t answered my question. What the [censored] are you doing in my house?” She stared unblinkingly up into Linneá’s hazel eyes.
The taller than average Nord woman towered over the little Breton but Cain’s sister knew better than most that size didn’t betray anything. A gentle smile played at the edges of her mouth while she returned the gaze and she eventually broke the stony silence.
“You’re not afraid of anyone, are you, miss Gwyn? How is it that my brother here always finds the most interesting women while Serana and I are stuck dealing with the haughty bimbos that traipse through the palace? Linneá Windborne, pleased to meet you. And I do apologize for dropping in unannounced, but I just had to meet this mysterious new friend that Kyne told us about.”
The situation defused and Cain breathed a sigh of relief.
“Nice to meet you, too, Linn. I’ve heard a lot about you and your wife.”
“Indeed? I wish I could say the same, but I think we’ll have plenty of time for that.” Linneá glanced around the messy cabin in amusement, taking in the clutter of Gwyn’s life. Her eyes came to rest on the noticeably empty spot where Cain had dispelled the magickal chest from, and she waved a hand idly at it. A minor bolt of probing magick highlighted its silhouette and she looked back at them curiously.
“So, what kind of secrets are you keeping in there, you two? Would it have to do with that Kyne mentioned you were hiding?”
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 9 2025, 10:59 AM)
The flashback to how Cain met Gwyndala Louvain (love her name by the way) really helped fill in some gaps from the last episodes. Gwyn sounds like a good sort and Cain’s lucky she intervened.
And Mede is out! Uh-oh, but so is Cain’s picture. So it’s off to Gwyn’s place.
’…far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.’
- - Pfft. Every woman knows it’s not possible to have too many shoes!
A wonderful visit from an angry goddess who wastes no time dressing down Cain. All is eventually forgiven though and even Gwyn is welcomed into the clan.
And Mede is out! Uh-oh, but so is Cain’s picture. So it’s off to Gwyn’s place.
’…far too many shoes, and bundles of the scant clothing that Gwyn preferred.’
- - Pfft. Every woman knows it’s not possible to have too many shoes!
A wonderful visit from an angry goddess who wastes no time dressing down Cain. All is eventually forgiven though and even Gwyn is welcomed into the clan.
I've been work shopping her for a while now, took about two months before I properly integrated her into anything. She'll be thankful for Cain, too....
The shoe thing flows both ways, too, even if most men don't want to admit. I've seen some impressive shoe collections in some of the male dorm rooms on campus!
Kyne often means business, and he did have it coming....
So what in the world are Cain and Gwen up to with their mysterious books and talk of magic rituals? I guess we’ll find out.
Gwyn survived her meeting with Kyne quite unscathed.
Dimensional storage! Woohoo, a magical storage trunk. Okay, no jokes about Gwyn’s impressive chest. . . .
Another flashback. Poor Gwyn. Rescued by Cain who can now change his name to Nikov Thyme as he swooped in with flashing blade.
“Take me home. Now. I need a bath.”
- - A wise choice from a woman who knows what she wants. It seems the bumps and scrapes between her and Cain are serving to bring them closer.
“Excuse me,” said Gwyn, “but who the hell are you to barge into my house uninvited? Do they not teach manners at the Blue Palace, Princess? Or are you just used to doing whatever the hell you please?”
- - Linneá actually is a real princess I figure, but she’s fully matched by Gwyn here! Moreso since Gwyn’s on her own turf. No shrinking violet this small one be. Whew, no bloodshed between the two.
“So, what kind of secrets are you keeping in there, you two? Would it have to do with that Kyne mentioned you were hiding?”
- - I want to know also, Linneá.
Gwyn survived her meeting with Kyne quite unscathed.
Dimensional storage! Woohoo, a magical storage trunk. Okay, no jokes about Gwyn’s impressive chest. . . .
Another flashback. Poor Gwyn. Rescued by Cain who can now change his name to Nikov Thyme as he swooped in with flashing blade.
“Take me home. Now. I need a bath.”
- - A wise choice from a woman who knows what she wants. It seems the bumps and scrapes between her and Cain are serving to bring them closer.
“Excuse me,” said Gwyn, “but who the hell are you to barge into my house uninvited? Do they not teach manners at the Blue Palace, Princess? Or are you just used to doing whatever the hell you please?”
- - Linneá actually is a real princess I figure, but she’s fully matched by Gwyn here! Moreso since Gwyn’s on her own turf. No shrinking violet this small one be. Whew, no bloodshed between the two.
“So, what kind of secrets are you keeping in there, you two? Would it have to do with that Kyne mentioned you were hiding?”
- - I want to know also, Linneá.
Answers are coming soon, I swear! 
I definitely treat Linnea and Cain as princess/prince since they are the King's children. Dunno if they do in lore, but at least at the time of Skyrim it's unclear due to Torygg's fate.
Gwyn's past has definitely hardened her. We're getting more into that very soon!
I definitely treat Linnea and Cain as princess/prince since they are the King's children. Dunno if they do in lore, but at least at the time of Skyrim it's unclear due to Torygg's fate.Gwyn's past has definitely hardened her. We're getting more into that very soon!
Chapter XL – Do We Ever Really Let Anyone Go?
(Three to four months ago…)
After an unwelcome start to the morning, it had been a long, quiet day on the Glenumbra Moors. Lunch was eaten in relative silence and then Gwyn disappeared into the grasslands for several hours to mull over just how far into her life she was willing to accept the wayward prince who’d saved her life. She surprised even herself at the answer that eventually set her path back towards home.
Restless and bored from sitting around the cabin all afternoon, Cain had busied himself by chopping firewood and tidying up some of the overgrown brush that inhibited sightlines around Gwyn’s cozy homestead. He’d paused to rest for a moment and was drinking deeply from a water canteen when the tiny Breton returned from her solitude and moseyed up to his side.
“You asked me before how I came to live out here on my own…”
Cain was surprised, but he offered her a drink and invited Gwyn to sit down opposite him. Just about every question on her past he’d asked her in their short time together had been waved off with a stiff ‘mind your own business’, so this was certainly an unexpected development.
“It’s my late aunt’s house,” she continued. “Marceline Louvain. I used to stay here during the summer months when school was out. It was the only place I could be free to live, or act, however I wanted, and my auntie always encouraged me to learn everything I could. I pleaded with her every autumn to let me stay forever, but mother always returned to drag her prized possession away.”
Red magick ignited in her palms when she finished speaking. Cain reached out and placed a hand on her wrist and smiled, letting Gwyn know she could trust him. That small gesture of kindness was all she needed to go on.
The spell dissipated and she sighed deeply before continuing. “I loved Aunt Marcie to bits but she never believed me when I told her how my mother treated me. Never believed that the moment I entered womanhood her own sister whored me out for any spare coin that wasn’t nailed down, threatening to kill me if I ever told anyone. Never believed the countless times I was held down and violated.” Gwyn paused to wipe away the tears that had started flowing. After several deep breaths, she went on: “You’d be absolutely disgusted at how many pigs would line up to have their way with a thirteen-year-old girl, single or married. The world is full of monsters, Cain. I wish there were more good people like you.”
She took a break from recounting her grim past to wipe away the tears that continued coursing down her pale face. Cain handed her a kerchief and waited patiently for Gwyn to soldier on. He could tell this had been bottled up for years and was about to burst forth no matter what.
“By the time I was fifteen, I’d long since had enough. My education had revealed a natural talent for magick and the school library had plenty of tomes to study on the nature of Destruction spells. I had no idea my own internal pain and anger could twist it so until I tried to defend myself from three brutish louts that paid mother a premium to pile on me all at once. All I wanted was to invoke a flame cloak spell to drive them away, but instead the men exploded into a cloud of red mist that coated every surface of the cellar. Horrified and enraged by what I’d done, my own mother grabbed a club and started beating me with it, shouting all the while about my insolence and all the problems I caused her. Bruised, bloodied, and covered in gore, I was about to lose consciousness when I casted another spell in desperation and her arm was violently ripped from her shoulder and fell to the ground, the lifeless hand still clutching the club. I barely had the strength left to escape our village and it was only when I showed up here, filthy, violated, and reeking of death that Aunt Marcie finally believed me. She took me in for good and eventually we’d heard news that my mother didn’t survive the spell, and that the authorities were searching for her missing daughter. But they thankfully never showed up here.”
Cain had been listening in horror and had no idea what to say. He’d never imagined that someone so young could be subjected to such abject cruelty by their own mother. That one person could endure so much trauma on their own. He suddenly understood why Gwyn had been so standoffish, and had grown angry at his frequent attempts to make her open up to him. And why she’d finally had enough and told him to leave.
But he now also understood why his actions that very morning were so important to Gwyn. She was seconds away from reliving her worst nightmare when he intervened, and she nearly lost all her independence once again. Still not knowing what else to say about it all, Cain broke the painful silence by asking about her aunt.
“What happened to Marcie?”
“She passed away a year later,” sniffled Gwyn. “I’ve been on my own here since I was sixteen.”
Her reliving of a terrible past now over, Gwyn slumped back in her chair and let the tears flow unabated. Despite the memories flooding in that she’d been trying to ignore for so long, she felt a sense of relief at having finally told someone. Cain had been the first person she’d met in almost fifteen years who didn’t try to take advantage of her in some way, and he’d refused to abandon someone he viewed as a friend. And then he didn’t hesitate to rush back to her side when Gwyn needed him the most, even though she did her best to push him away.
The next thing Gwyn knew, she was being helped up from her chair by the strong Redguard who proceeded to pull her in tight and offer his own silent but much needed support. She was unsure how much time passed while he held her close, letting her sob into his tunic, but eventually the sun began to set and he steered them back into the cabin and finally parted with Gwyn to start whipping up a warm meal.
Soon thereafter, Gwyn sat with Cain at her tiny dinner table, idly twirling her spoon around a bowl of fresh vegetable soup. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, and the tears had ruined her makeup, but none of that bothered her at the moment. She set the spoon down and looked up at her friend.
“Thank you for listening to all of that. And for not judging me afterwards. I was terrified that if I ever told anyone, they’d think I was a monster. Or some kind of [censored] unhinged lunatic who likes to blow people up.”
“Don’t worry about it, Gwyn. I’m just glad you trust me enough to have done so, and that you consider me a friend. I’ll have your back from here on out, you can count on that.”
Gwyn smiled and ate a spoonful of the delicious soup he’d made for them. Maybe life won’t be so [censored]-up anymore, she thought to herself. At least there are still good people out there.
“I do have one question, though.” said Cain.
“Hm?”
“Your magick… is it still influenced by your past? Or did you further develop those flesh spells?”
She lifted her other hand and the familiar red magickal energy filled her palm. “It’s tainted from the trauma, I think,” she shrugged. “I can’t cast normal destruction magick anymore. Even a simple flame spell ends up like this.”
“Sounds like we both have a long way to go.”
“I guess so,” said Gwyn. “Or we could look into something else, if you’re interested…”
“Like what?”
“I’ve been thinking about your inborn nature as a Dragonborn. It puts you firmly in Akatosh’s camp, no? Have you ever thought to explore a possible connection to linear time and the influence dragons have on it?”
(Present day…)
The outline of the chest faded and with a slight motion from Gwyn’s own hand, it vanished into the ether. She looked at Cain and could tell he was turning it over in his head, wondering if now was the time to divulge… and to ask for the help they’d inevitably need from Linneá. Instead of answering, he busied himself with the venison haunch that was still rotating over the hearth, and then he slid a kettle of water against the flames.
“Can I get you some tea, sis?”
“I’d love some. And I’d also love an answer to my question.”
The heat of the fire brought the kettle to boil quickly, and Cain was soon passing out steaming mugs of black tea infused with bergamot and lemon. He offered Linneá a seat at the ring of chairs Kyne had set up earlier in the day, and joined her and Gwyn after giving the meat another few turns.
“Forgive me, Linn, but I’m not ready to answer that.” Linneá opened her mouth to retort but Cain cut her off. “I’m not saying we won’t tell you at all, just not right now. Matter of fact, Gwyn and I will need your help with it before long anyway.”
“I see. And you just expect me to agree to that while you hold all the cards close to your chest? It doesn’t work like that, Cain. If you want my help, you owe me answers.”
Cain sighed and set his tea down on the floor. He knew this was coming eventually, but he never once looked forward to it. There was only one direction this conversation could flow now, and it led down the road to what Cain desired most. What Kyne had almost picked up on. What he and Gwyn had been researching, planning, and practicing over the last three months. Needing a moment to breathe first, he got up and returned to the fireplace, idly spinning the cooking spit in a vain effort to deny admitting how much he refused to let go.
“Okay, well, it seems that your brother is too chickenshit to admit some things about himself,” said Gwyn, deciding to do it herself. She summoned the chest at their feet and kicked it open for Linneá to see. “Help yourself to our extensive collection on the theories and practical applications of Time Magic.”
That was all Linneá needed to understand exactly what was going on. “You can’t be serious!” She nearly threw her mug on the floor as she got up from her seat and ran to her brother’s side. “Cain, this is madness – you can’t bring her back! Time doesn’t work like that and it shouldn’t be messed with so carelessly! You need to let go of Anska and move on!”
So far, it was going about as well as he’d expected.
“I implore you to read some of those books before you jump to any conclusions, Linn,” argued Cain. “There are three in particular that I can give you, and if you are as clever as I know you to be, you’ll be able to glean what the authors were missing and how close to reality it actually is. Especially for people like us.”
“What do you mean ‘people like us’?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
“Think about it, Linn. We may just be human, but we have the soul of a dragon - the singular creatures in all of creation that are attuned to the flow of Time.” He walked back over to where Gwyn had opened the chest and grabbed three hefty books from within it, and handed them to his sister. “Read these, please. Read them and I promise you’ll know exactly where we are going with this. I only ask that you tell no one what we discussed here. Well, besides Serana, of course. I’m sure she already knows. Ugh.”
Linneá didn’t know what to say. This was so far beyond anything she had expected to hear from him and his new friend that she simply stood there looking at them in disbelief. A small part of her wondered if this stemmed from Gwyn’s influence on him, but Linneá also knew that her brother only trusted those who were deserving of it. With a heavy sigh, she opened her bag and slid the books inside it.
“I’ll be back in a few days, maybe a week. Serana and I will need time to read these and discuss our findings. If I piece it together sooner, I’ll zip back to you when I can. Will you be here still?”
“I should hope so, since it’s my own [censored] house,” answered Gwyn. “Oh. Sorry. Not what you meant.”
“Yeah, we should be,” laughed Cain. “There aren’t any more books to track down, so we’ll be here going over all of this ourselves.”
His sister nodded and started to cast the recall spell before dispelling it quickly. “Cain, I… I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. I wish I’d come to find you sooner. Part of me didn’t believe that you are still in as much pain as the day it happened. I see now that you’ve just figured out a way to cope. I love you, and I promise Serana and I will take this seriously.”
“I love you, too.”
Linneá rematerialized in her bedroom and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed. Serana joined her from the den a few seconds later and sat next to her wife, leaning her head against Linneá’s shoulder. Their daughter could be heard playing in the other room, singing in a raucous manner that never failed to bring a smile to Linneá’s face. This time, it was an old sea shanty echoing off-key around their suite.
“Who the hell taught her that one?”
“Falk was here the other day to visit dad, so I’d imagine that’s who,” said Serana. “It sounded like his retirement involved buying a ship and sailing wherever he pleases. He no doubt learned some songs at the ports!” Serana planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek, then she helped her up off the bed. “C’mon, dinner should be ready now. Let’s grab a quick bite and see if Salihn wants to have a sleepover with mum and dad. That’ll give us a chance to dive into those books tonight. Or into this bed.”
“Promises, promises,” grinned Linneá. “I just need to change first. My old vampire armor isn’t appropriate for dinner with the folks. You’re welcome to stay and watch. Maybe help me out of it?”
“With pleasure, my princess!”
Twenty minutes later found the three of them having a quiet meal with Kirin and Lydia. The conversation mostly strayed towards everyday work in the palace, but before long it turned to the implications of the deposed emperor and what it meant for the already fractured Empire.
“Have you heard anything from Anilay recently?” Serana asked.
“Not so much,” said Kirin. “From his last latter, it sounded like the Elder Council were poised to make him the de-facto leader until a valid claim to the throne is made. I’d imagine he’s very busy at this point. We can talk about that tomorrow – what I want to know, Linn, is how my son is doing. And who this mysterious woman he’s with is.”
“Gwyndala Louvian. Not sure where she’s from or what the entirety of their history together is, but I can tell they trust each other implicitly, and that’s good enough for me. She’s a firebrand, too. In a different life, I think Gwyn would’ve fit in great with us and Anska. Cain certainly knows how to choose his friends.”
“I’d love to meet her, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see if he brings her home at some point,” said Lydia, joining in now that Salihn had eaten her fill and resumed playing. “But what about Cain? Is he still struggling? Should we be worried for him?”
“Yes and no,” replied Linneá. “He still grieves for her, but he’s not a wreck anymore. Having Gwyn around is definitely helping. No idea when he plans on coming home, though.”
Kirin sighed and took a pull from his tankard of mead. “I hope it’s sooner rather than later,” he said. “If I’m to make a claim for the Ruby Throne, I’d rather my firstborn be here to succeed me. Er, no offense, Linn,” he added. “I know it’s not something you ever wanted, though.”
Linneá sat in silence for a few minutes. Not so long ago, the idea of being Skyrim’s High Queen had repulsed her, but so much had changed in their life over the last year that her feelings were no longer clear on the matter. The absence of her brother and the adoption of Salihn had given her a lot of new responsibilities, and she and Serana weren’t quite so carefree about life these days. Her memories drifted back to that night in Blacklight when she’d first questioned whether or not her complete opposition to ruling was warranted.
I meant it then and I still mean it now, Elle, Serana spoke into her thoughts. Skyrim would be lucky to have you.
Lucky to have us, my love. Don’t think you’ll get off scot free!
She’d been silent for a little too long and Kirin waved a hand impatiently in front of her face. “Nirn to Linn – are you still in there?”
“Relax, I’m still here dad. Just got lost in thought for a moment. Anyway, about what you said before… well, you should never say never. Things change. People change. And I’ll do whatever I have to for our homeland.”
(Three to four months ago…)
After an unwelcome start to the morning, it had been a long, quiet day on the Glenumbra Moors. Lunch was eaten in relative silence and then Gwyn disappeared into the grasslands for several hours to mull over just how far into her life she was willing to accept the wayward prince who’d saved her life. She surprised even herself at the answer that eventually set her path back towards home.
Restless and bored from sitting around the cabin all afternoon, Cain had busied himself by chopping firewood and tidying up some of the overgrown brush that inhibited sightlines around Gwyn’s cozy homestead. He’d paused to rest for a moment and was drinking deeply from a water canteen when the tiny Breton returned from her solitude and moseyed up to his side.
“You asked me before how I came to live out here on my own…”
Cain was surprised, but he offered her a drink and invited Gwyn to sit down opposite him. Just about every question on her past he’d asked her in their short time together had been waved off with a stiff ‘mind your own business’, so this was certainly an unexpected development.
“It’s my late aunt’s house,” she continued. “Marceline Louvain. I used to stay here during the summer months when school was out. It was the only place I could be free to live, or act, however I wanted, and my auntie always encouraged me to learn everything I could. I pleaded with her every autumn to let me stay forever, but mother always returned to drag her prized possession away.”
Red magick ignited in her palms when she finished speaking. Cain reached out and placed a hand on her wrist and smiled, letting Gwyn know she could trust him. That small gesture of kindness was all she needed to go on.
The spell dissipated and she sighed deeply before continuing. “I loved Aunt Marcie to bits but she never believed me when I told her how my mother treated me. Never believed that the moment I entered womanhood her own sister whored me out for any spare coin that wasn’t nailed down, threatening to kill me if I ever told anyone. Never believed the countless times I was held down and violated.” Gwyn paused to wipe away the tears that had started flowing. After several deep breaths, she went on: “You’d be absolutely disgusted at how many pigs would line up to have their way with a thirteen-year-old girl, single or married. The world is full of monsters, Cain. I wish there were more good people like you.”
She took a break from recounting her grim past to wipe away the tears that continued coursing down her pale face. Cain handed her a kerchief and waited patiently for Gwyn to soldier on. He could tell this had been bottled up for years and was about to burst forth no matter what.
“By the time I was fifteen, I’d long since had enough. My education had revealed a natural talent for magick and the school library had plenty of tomes to study on the nature of Destruction spells. I had no idea my own internal pain and anger could twist it so until I tried to defend myself from three brutish louts that paid mother a premium to pile on me all at once. All I wanted was to invoke a flame cloak spell to drive them away, but instead the men exploded into a cloud of red mist that coated every surface of the cellar. Horrified and enraged by what I’d done, my own mother grabbed a club and started beating me with it, shouting all the while about my insolence and all the problems I caused her. Bruised, bloodied, and covered in gore, I was about to lose consciousness when I casted another spell in desperation and her arm was violently ripped from her shoulder and fell to the ground, the lifeless hand still clutching the club. I barely had the strength left to escape our village and it was only when I showed up here, filthy, violated, and reeking of death that Aunt Marcie finally believed me. She took me in for good and eventually we’d heard news that my mother didn’t survive the spell, and that the authorities were searching for her missing daughter. But they thankfully never showed up here.”
Cain had been listening in horror and had no idea what to say. He’d never imagined that someone so young could be subjected to such abject cruelty by their own mother. That one person could endure so much trauma on their own. He suddenly understood why Gwyn had been so standoffish, and had grown angry at his frequent attempts to make her open up to him. And why she’d finally had enough and told him to leave.
But he now also understood why his actions that very morning were so important to Gwyn. She was seconds away from reliving her worst nightmare when he intervened, and she nearly lost all her independence once again. Still not knowing what else to say about it all, Cain broke the painful silence by asking about her aunt.
“What happened to Marcie?”
“She passed away a year later,” sniffled Gwyn. “I’ve been on my own here since I was sixteen.”
Her reliving of a terrible past now over, Gwyn slumped back in her chair and let the tears flow unabated. Despite the memories flooding in that she’d been trying to ignore for so long, she felt a sense of relief at having finally told someone. Cain had been the first person she’d met in almost fifteen years who didn’t try to take advantage of her in some way, and he’d refused to abandon someone he viewed as a friend. And then he didn’t hesitate to rush back to her side when Gwyn needed him the most, even though she did her best to push him away.
The next thing Gwyn knew, she was being helped up from her chair by the strong Redguard who proceeded to pull her in tight and offer his own silent but much needed support. She was unsure how much time passed while he held her close, letting her sob into his tunic, but eventually the sun began to set and he steered them back into the cabin and finally parted with Gwyn to start whipping up a warm meal.
Soon thereafter, Gwyn sat with Cain at her tiny dinner table, idly twirling her spoon around a bowl of fresh vegetable soup. Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying, and the tears had ruined her makeup, but none of that bothered her at the moment. She set the spoon down and looked up at her friend.
“Thank you for listening to all of that. And for not judging me afterwards. I was terrified that if I ever told anyone, they’d think I was a monster. Or some kind of [censored] unhinged lunatic who likes to blow people up.”
“Don’t worry about it, Gwyn. I’m just glad you trust me enough to have done so, and that you consider me a friend. I’ll have your back from here on out, you can count on that.”
Gwyn smiled and ate a spoonful of the delicious soup he’d made for them. Maybe life won’t be so [censored]-up anymore, she thought to herself. At least there are still good people out there.
“I do have one question, though.” said Cain.
“Hm?”
“Your magick… is it still influenced by your past? Or did you further develop those flesh spells?”
She lifted her other hand and the familiar red magickal energy filled her palm. “It’s tainted from the trauma, I think,” she shrugged. “I can’t cast normal destruction magick anymore. Even a simple flame spell ends up like this.”
“Sounds like we both have a long way to go.”
“I guess so,” said Gwyn. “Or we could look into something else, if you’re interested…”
“Like what?”
“I’ve been thinking about your inborn nature as a Dragonborn. It puts you firmly in Akatosh’s camp, no? Have you ever thought to explore a possible connection to linear time and the influence dragons have on it?”
-----
(Present day…)
The outline of the chest faded and with a slight motion from Gwyn’s own hand, it vanished into the ether. She looked at Cain and could tell he was turning it over in his head, wondering if now was the time to divulge… and to ask for the help they’d inevitably need from Linneá. Instead of answering, he busied himself with the venison haunch that was still rotating over the hearth, and then he slid a kettle of water against the flames.
“Can I get you some tea, sis?”
“I’d love some. And I’d also love an answer to my question.”
The heat of the fire brought the kettle to boil quickly, and Cain was soon passing out steaming mugs of black tea infused with bergamot and lemon. He offered Linneá a seat at the ring of chairs Kyne had set up earlier in the day, and joined her and Gwyn after giving the meat another few turns.
“Forgive me, Linn, but I’m not ready to answer that.” Linneá opened her mouth to retort but Cain cut her off. “I’m not saying we won’t tell you at all, just not right now. Matter of fact, Gwyn and I will need your help with it before long anyway.”
“I see. And you just expect me to agree to that while you hold all the cards close to your chest? It doesn’t work like that, Cain. If you want my help, you owe me answers.”
Cain sighed and set his tea down on the floor. He knew this was coming eventually, but he never once looked forward to it. There was only one direction this conversation could flow now, and it led down the road to what Cain desired most. What Kyne had almost picked up on. What he and Gwyn had been researching, planning, and practicing over the last three months. Needing a moment to breathe first, he got up and returned to the fireplace, idly spinning the cooking spit in a vain effort to deny admitting how much he refused to let go.
“Okay, well, it seems that your brother is too chickenshit to admit some things about himself,” said Gwyn, deciding to do it herself. She summoned the chest at their feet and kicked it open for Linneá to see. “Help yourself to our extensive collection on the theories and practical applications of Time Magic.”
That was all Linneá needed to understand exactly what was going on. “You can’t be serious!” She nearly threw her mug on the floor as she got up from her seat and ran to her brother’s side. “Cain, this is madness – you can’t bring her back! Time doesn’t work like that and it shouldn’t be messed with so carelessly! You need to let go of Anska and move on!”
So far, it was going about as well as he’d expected.
“I implore you to read some of those books before you jump to any conclusions, Linn,” argued Cain. “There are three in particular that I can give you, and if you are as clever as I know you to be, you’ll be able to glean what the authors were missing and how close to reality it actually is. Especially for people like us.”
“What do you mean ‘people like us’?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
“Think about it, Linn. We may just be human, but we have the soul of a dragon - the singular creatures in all of creation that are attuned to the flow of Time.” He walked back over to where Gwyn had opened the chest and grabbed three hefty books from within it, and handed them to his sister. “Read these, please. Read them and I promise you’ll know exactly where we are going with this. I only ask that you tell no one what we discussed here. Well, besides Serana, of course. I’m sure she already knows. Ugh.”
Linneá didn’t know what to say. This was so far beyond anything she had expected to hear from him and his new friend that she simply stood there looking at them in disbelief. A small part of her wondered if this stemmed from Gwyn’s influence on him, but Linneá also knew that her brother only trusted those who were deserving of it. With a heavy sigh, she opened her bag and slid the books inside it.
“I’ll be back in a few days, maybe a week. Serana and I will need time to read these and discuss our findings. If I piece it together sooner, I’ll zip back to you when I can. Will you be here still?”
“I should hope so, since it’s my own [censored] house,” answered Gwyn. “Oh. Sorry. Not what you meant.”
“Yeah, we should be,” laughed Cain. “There aren’t any more books to track down, so we’ll be here going over all of this ourselves.”
His sister nodded and started to cast the recall spell before dispelling it quickly. “Cain, I… I’m sorry this has been so hard for you. I wish I’d come to find you sooner. Part of me didn’t believe that you are still in as much pain as the day it happened. I see now that you’ve just figured out a way to cope. I love you, and I promise Serana and I will take this seriously.”
“I love you, too.”
-----
Linneá rematerialized in her bedroom and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed. Serana joined her from the den a few seconds later and sat next to her wife, leaning her head against Linneá’s shoulder. Their daughter could be heard playing in the other room, singing in a raucous manner that never failed to bring a smile to Linneá’s face. This time, it was an old sea shanty echoing off-key around their suite.
“Who the hell taught her that one?”
“Falk was here the other day to visit dad, so I’d imagine that’s who,” said Serana. “It sounded like his retirement involved buying a ship and sailing wherever he pleases. He no doubt learned some songs at the ports!” Serana planted a kiss on her wife’s cheek, then she helped her up off the bed. “C’mon, dinner should be ready now. Let’s grab a quick bite and see if Salihn wants to have a sleepover with mum and dad. That’ll give us a chance to dive into those books tonight. Or into this bed.”
“Promises, promises,” grinned Linneá. “I just need to change first. My old vampire armor isn’t appropriate for dinner with the folks. You’re welcome to stay and watch. Maybe help me out of it?”
“With pleasure, my princess!”
-----
Twenty minutes later found the three of them having a quiet meal with Kirin and Lydia. The conversation mostly strayed towards everyday work in the palace, but before long it turned to the implications of the deposed emperor and what it meant for the already fractured Empire.
“Have you heard anything from Anilay recently?” Serana asked.
“Not so much,” said Kirin. “From his last latter, it sounded like the Elder Council were poised to make him the de-facto leader until a valid claim to the throne is made. I’d imagine he’s very busy at this point. We can talk about that tomorrow – what I want to know, Linn, is how my son is doing. And who this mysterious woman he’s with is.”
“Gwyndala Louvian. Not sure where she’s from or what the entirety of their history together is, but I can tell they trust each other implicitly, and that’s good enough for me. She’s a firebrand, too. In a different life, I think Gwyn would’ve fit in great with us and Anska. Cain certainly knows how to choose his friends.”
“I’d love to meet her, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see if he brings her home at some point,” said Lydia, joining in now that Salihn had eaten her fill and resumed playing. “But what about Cain? Is he still struggling? Should we be worried for him?”
“Yes and no,” replied Linneá. “He still grieves for her, but he’s not a wreck anymore. Having Gwyn around is definitely helping. No idea when he plans on coming home, though.”
Kirin sighed and took a pull from his tankard of mead. “I hope it’s sooner rather than later,” he said. “If I’m to make a claim for the Ruby Throne, I’d rather my firstborn be here to succeed me. Er, no offense, Linn,” he added. “I know it’s not something you ever wanted, though.”
Linneá sat in silence for a few minutes. Not so long ago, the idea of being Skyrim’s High Queen had repulsed her, but so much had changed in their life over the last year that her feelings were no longer clear on the matter. The absence of her brother and the adoption of Salihn had given her a lot of new responsibilities, and she and Serana weren’t quite so carefree about life these days. Her memories drifted back to that night in Blacklight when she’d first questioned whether or not her complete opposition to ruling was warranted.
I meant it then and I still mean it now, Elle, Serana spoke into her thoughts. Skyrim would be lucky to have you.
Lucky to have us, my love. Don’t think you’ll get off scot free!
She’d been silent for a little too long and Kirin waved a hand impatiently in front of her face. “Nirn to Linn – are you still in there?”
“Relax, I’m still here dad. Just got lost in thought for a moment. Anyway, about what you said before… well, you should never say never. Things change. People change. And I’ll do whatever I have to for our homeland.”
Sad to hear about Gwyn's tortured past. I hope something happens to mend her torn spirit.
It'll be a long road, but she'll get there.
What a horrible childhood Gwyn has had! It certainly explains her aloofness and flashes of anger, as well as her unusual destruction magic. A good step for her, I think, opening up to Cain.
Ahah, so the mystery of their objective becomes clearer. I rather thought his grief over Anska was involved and even wondered if they were looking into necromantic rituals. The Dragon God of Time and Cain being dragonborne. . . their crazy idea may not be quite so crazy as Linneá first thinks. Though she is not wrong to be concerned about unpredictable results and unintended consequences.
Whether to seek Kyne’s wisdom on the matter is quite the weighty question.
In the meantime, it seems Linneá is adjusting to motherhood and even considering the possibility of becoming Kirin’s successor if Cain is unable/unwilling to do so.
Ahah, so the mystery of their objective becomes clearer. I rather thought his grief over Anska was involved and even wondered if they were looking into necromantic rituals. The Dragon God of Time and Cain being dragonborne. . . their crazy idea may not be quite so crazy as Linneá first thinks. Though she is not wrong to be concerned about unpredictable results and unintended consequences.
Whether to seek Kyne’s wisdom on the matter is quite the weighty question.
In the meantime, it seems Linneá is adjusting to motherhood and even considering the possibility of becoming Kirin’s successor if Cain is unable/unwilling to do so.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 15 2025, 07:18 PM)
A good step for her, I think, opening up to Cain.
It was indeed, and by the time we catch up in the present day you can tell she is more outgoing. The Gwyn that saved his life would have bolted at the first sign of his family. Or Kyne.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 15 2025, 07:18 PM)
Whether to seek Kyne€™s wisdom on the matter is quite the weighty question.
Unfortunately, I think our goddess will be quite cross when this is all over.
Chapter XLI – Possibilities and Impossibilities
A six-foot diameter circle of grass had been burned off just a few steps outside of Gwyn’s cabin, revealing the damp morning soil beneath it. There remained at the center a single orange wildflower, surrounded by ancient runes that had been carefully painted onto the ground by Cain and Gwyn at sunrise. With the sun now steadily soaring overhead, she sat cross-legged at the center of the ritual circle with her eyes closed, concentrating on the chronomantic theories she’d been digesting.
Cain sat in a chair on the nearby front porch, watching and waiting eagerly to see if his friend could pull off a successful first test of this mysterious branch of magick. Thunderous rain clouds loomed far away on the horizon, so it was now or never. By lunch time, the runes would be washed away by the relentless march of nature. And time.
He sipped from his mug of coffee and then leaned forward when Gwyndala raised her hands, her palms filling with a vibrant blueish-white magicka that swirled and eddied in shapeless, yet threaded forms. The energy blossomed outwards to encompass the entirety of the small clearing, and the runes themselves began to glow with the same mystical light. Eyes still clamped firmly shut in concentration, Gwyn’s hand started to move in complex patterns that left a faint trail of light behind them, mimicking the runes painted upon the earth.
Then Gwyn’s hands came to a rest, stretched out in front of her and hovering delicately over the single wildflower. Her eyes opened and she gazed down at the orange petals and green stalk in front of her as she began to move her lithe hands in a circular motion around it. The energy of time flowed between her fingertips and cascaded down over the test subject. Astonished by what he was at last seeing, Cain rose from his seat and crept nearer to the ritual zone just in time to see the flower grow taller and taller and taller before shrinking down to a miniscule sprout, barely freed from its seed pod.
Gwyn reversed the circular motion of her hands and the flower grew upwards once again until she stopped, returning it to the natural state it had been in before her interference with the flow of time. The magick around her slowly faded from existence and the runes ceased glowing just in time for the ominous clouds overheard to begin their cleansing rains.
She pushed herself up off the ground and retreated to the dryness of the front porch where Cain stood waiting, admiring his friend and her competency with previously untested magick. “Weren’t those clouds a lot further off when I started?” she asked him.
The rain had already begun to wash away the runes. Cain frowned at her question and worriedly looked out over the moors for signs of a certain goddess that had been absent for a few days. Nothing leapt out at him and there were few trees among the expansive grasslands for her to be perched in.
“I get what you’re implying, but there’s no sign of her,” said Cain. “Maybe the winds kicked up and blew it in faster than we expected.” He turned back towards Gwyn and smiled at her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, so, that was really fantastic for a first attempt. It was amazing to see you at work, confidently practicing such an obscure form of the arcane like a master. I’m proud of you.”
Tears welled up in the corners of Gwyn’s eyes and she spun around on the balls of her feet and headed inside the cabin, closing the door behind her with a snap. Bewildered by the sudden turn of events, Cain stared at the door for a few seconds and contemplated following her. He decided instead to sit back down with his coffee and to give her some space. Gwyn was a complicated person that he still didn’t fully understand, and he’d learned from past mistakes not to pressure her.
Only a few moments had lapsed before the door was yanked back open and Gwyndala stomped out onto the porch, her previously dark red hair now changed to a delightful shade of golden-yellow that resembled an early spring tulip.
“Stand up!” she commanded. Cain did as he was told, while simultaneously being apprehensive about this change in demeanor. “Did you really mean what you said before?” she asked him, hopefully. “That you’re proud of me?”
“Is that what this is about?” he replied, letting himself relax. “Of course I’m proud of you, Gwyn! How could I not be after what you just pulled off?”
Gwyn threw herself into his arms and let the happy tears flow once again. “I’m sorry, I must seem like a damn blubbering nutjob.” She squeezed him tightly and then let go to dry her eyes. “Thank you, Cain. I, um… no one’s ever said that to me. Not once. I just needed a minute to let it sink in…”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly get dealt a fair hand with life, you know. And my offer still stands: if you want a fresh start when this is all over, there’s a place for you at the Blue Palace.”
“Cain, we talked about this,” said Gwyn, a look of sadness dancing behind her eyes. “I can’t go back with you and you know that. I don’t belong in your life during that period of time. We’re already pushing the boundaries and testing the limits of reality by trying to save your wife and altering the past. But you existed there when you were supposed to. I was here, living in misery and hunting bandits for the gold to survive. We can’t [censored] around with the natural order of things like that.”
“I know that, Gwyn, I do. That doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. I hate the idea of you being out here on your own, without Time unfolding the way it has for us. What’ll happen to you if I’m not there to be saved? And if I’m not there to save you? You deserve a chance at a better life and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if my own desires washed that all away. Come back with me and to hell with the consequences!”
“Uggggghhhhh, stop speaking in convoluted circles like that! Temporal mechanics give me a [censored] headache. No more talking for a while. I’m going to brew some tea and then we are just going to sit and watch the rain, got it?”
She didn’t bother waiting for Cain to answer and headed back inside once again to throw the kettle on. He sipped again from his coffee that had long since become tepid and wondered to himself if asking Gwyn to grab him a mug of tea too would count against her no talking rule. Thankfully, he didn’t have to dwell on that for very long – their time together had become a fast friendship and she anticipated his want for a new drink.
So, for the next hour, they sat in silence with their hot tea and watched the storms roll across the Glenumbra Moors.
“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Linneá.
“What?” asked Serana. “Did you find something in that one?”
The two of them had spent the last four nights pouring over the books loaned to them by their brother, trying to piece together whatever it was that spurred on his desire to attempt such a dangerous and unpredictable endeavor. Until now, they had come up empty.
“It just clicked into place. And I hate to say it, dear, but… he’s right. Holy [censored]. Cain and Gwyn are on to something tangible, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already taken practice steps to test the validity.” She set the book down and took a few deep breaths to center herself. The implications were astounding, yet Linneá wondered if they should never see the light of day. “Ana this is real. With the right tools, he could actually alter the past with little ramifications, provided he does so with the utmost caution. He could save her, at the cost of only his time away from us this past year or so. And Gwyn, I suppose. They’ll never meet and only Cain would be aware of her.”
Serana closed her book and threw it on the bed, frowning at jumble of thoughts circulating through her wife’s mind. She reached out and placed a hand on Linneá’s leg.
“Slow down for a minute and explain to me what you found. Your brain is moving too fast for me to parse it out.”
“Cain was right about our inborn nature as Dragonborn and how we can attune ourselves to the flow of time. It’s not something I had previously considered, because I always assumed that only the most powerful dragons like Alduin or Akatosh himself could have any influence directly on it. But this isn’t so. If we can grasp the threads of linear time, either through magick, or by some other means, it can be navigated by someone possessing the willpower to do so. And he definitely has that.”
Leaning back in her chair, Serana exhaled loudly and stared up at the lofty ceiling. Searching inward, she found that the idea of it all terrified her on some level, and yet she could sense the mounting excitement over the prospect of it that Linneá was beginning to emanate. Her wife had always had a strong inclination towards learning and understanding magick at its deepest, but Serana couldn’t help but wonder if this was going too far.
Could Anska be saved? Or was the question they needed to ask not could, but should? Then she asked herself if either question truly mattered, for they would never know if Cain did succeed. Life would simply unfold from that new point in time, with Anska and her unborn child alive and well. They would only come to know of what happened if Cain told them what he’d done.
However, even that was uncertain. No one could predict temporal magick, otherwise it would have become more prevalent. His incursion into the past could blend both realties into one, leaving a lot of confusion and disorientation it the wake of it. Or maybe…
“I had the exact same though, my love,” said Linneá. “If he does this, I only see one scenario where it possibly works and the timing will be tricky, but not impossible.”
“You’re going to help him then?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. This isn’t something to rush headlong into and we haven’t had the luxury of considering it for three months.”
“I agree,” said Serana. “I won’t ask you not to, but let’s take some time to mull it over carefully. Especially since time is the one thing that we don’t have to worry about in all of this madness.”
-----
Nearly ten days had come and gone since Linneá disappeared from Gwyn’s cabin with the books Cain had loaned her. Kyne had visited once in the interim but it had been a cordial and brief stop to see how he was doing. In the meantime, several more ritual circles had been created and wiped away each day while Gwyn honed her influence over Chronomancy. She’d repeated the process with the flower a few times before moving onto more complex life. So far, only one toad had perished when she sped up time for it just a tad too much.
The spells were taxing though, and typically by midday she was spent. And to top it off, Cain’s incessant pacing had been driving her up the wall until she finally caved and allowed him to organize her chaotic house as a way to pass the time while they waited. Gwyn didn’t love the idea of him rooting through her belongings, but she had become empathetic enough to understand that the current inaction was unbearable for the man, especially when they were so close.
She watched him struggle to hang a particularly skimpy black dress of hers and began to wonder if she was making the right choice in staying behind. Life had been so… grim, before he had wormed his way in. What would happen to her once he alters the past and never became a part of her life? Gwyn supposed she would technically never know, but damn it if the man didn’t have a huge influence on the woman she was slowly becoming.
Her idle thoughts were interrupted by a flash of purple light from inside her home, followed by two voices – one she recognized and another she didn’t. Gwyn headed inside and was greeted by Linneá with a nod, and with an apprising smile from a shorter pale woman who had equally dark, shoulder-length hair, and keen blue eyes.
“Ah, there you are Gwyn,” said Cain. “This is Serana: Linneá’s wife and my sister-in-law!”
Gwyndala offered a small curtsy and wasted no time with a question for them. “How in the hell did you find someone in that backward ass province who would wed two women?”
“Kyne,” shrugged Serana. “She does what she wants. And it’s nice to meet you Gwyn. Heard a bit about you from Elle.”
“Mhm. So, what brings you ladies to my home unannounced? Again.”
Linneá slipped her shoulder bag off and pulled out the three books Cain had offered her last week, setting them down on the now cleared off coffee table.
“So, we read through them and debated the merits of what you said, brother. You were right to infer that the answer would jump out at me, but I still have some questions before we agree to anything.”
“Shoot,” said Cain.
“First off, what was your actual plan?”
Cain looked at her in surprise. He had expected in depth questions on the means of time travel itself, not what he would do if it worked. Gwyn was also looking curiously at him and he started to wonder if they’d missed something.
“Um, I was just going to grab Anska, mum, and Salihn and take them to Elysium until the attack ended. Figured I would just regroup with dad and finish the job like we did the first time.”
“Thought it’d be something like that,” said Serana. “That’s not feasible, Cain.”
“How so?” frowned Gwyn, heading off a similar response from him. “It ties up everything with a neat little bow, doesn’t it? Cain saves his fiancé and gets his family out of danger. Everything is hunky-dory”
“No, it’s not,” tutted Linneá. “You missed something vital with temporal mechanics – when Cain goes back there will suddenly be two of him in the palace. And that’s where things will get ugly. You’re not going to replace your past self, he’ll still be there defending our home.”
“Then how – oh,” said Cain. “Oh, damn. I see where you’re going with this. That’s going to be really awkward to explain. [censored], but what about mum and Salihn? I can’t leave them there to fend for themselves!”
“Take them to Elysium like you planned and then high-tail it out of there before anyone notices.”
“Hold the [censored] on,” chimed Gwyn. “How will THAT work? If the past Cain is still there, then his fiancé is going to disappear for ten months with a different version of himself! How the [censored] does any of this make sense?”
“And that’s where Elle and I got to before draining a bottle of brandy to make the headache go away,” replied Serana. “I think we’ve collectively re-discovered the reason why Time Magick has become taboo.”
Cain leaned back dejectedly in his chair with a feeling of failure welling up inside. It was all unraveling. Everything he and Gwyn had worked at day and night for three months was amounting to nothing. No matter what angle he looked at it from, the entire plan began to fall apart the further along it got. He felt the headache coming on and decided it was time for a very strong pot of coffee.
A six-foot diameter circle of grass had been burned off just a few steps outside of Gwyn’s cabin, revealing the damp morning soil beneath it. There remained at the center a single orange wildflower, surrounded by ancient runes that had been carefully painted onto the ground by Cain and Gwyn at sunrise. With the sun now steadily soaring overhead, she sat cross-legged at the center of the ritual circle with her eyes closed, concentrating on the chronomantic theories she’d been digesting.
Cain sat in a chair on the nearby front porch, watching and waiting eagerly to see if his friend could pull off a successful first test of this mysterious branch of magick. Thunderous rain clouds loomed far away on the horizon, so it was now or never. By lunch time, the runes would be washed away by the relentless march of nature. And time.
He sipped from his mug of coffee and then leaned forward when Gwyndala raised her hands, her palms filling with a vibrant blueish-white magicka that swirled and eddied in shapeless, yet threaded forms. The energy blossomed outwards to encompass the entirety of the small clearing, and the runes themselves began to glow with the same mystical light. Eyes still clamped firmly shut in concentration, Gwyn’s hand started to move in complex patterns that left a faint trail of light behind them, mimicking the runes painted upon the earth.
Then Gwyn’s hands came to a rest, stretched out in front of her and hovering delicately over the single wildflower. Her eyes opened and she gazed down at the orange petals and green stalk in front of her as she began to move her lithe hands in a circular motion around it. The energy of time flowed between her fingertips and cascaded down over the test subject. Astonished by what he was at last seeing, Cain rose from his seat and crept nearer to the ritual zone just in time to see the flower grow taller and taller and taller before shrinking down to a miniscule sprout, barely freed from its seed pod.
Gwyn reversed the circular motion of her hands and the flower grew upwards once again until she stopped, returning it to the natural state it had been in before her interference with the flow of time. The magick around her slowly faded from existence and the runes ceased glowing just in time for the ominous clouds overheard to begin their cleansing rains.
She pushed herself up off the ground and retreated to the dryness of the front porch where Cain stood waiting, admiring his friend and her competency with previously untested magick. “Weren’t those clouds a lot further off when I started?” she asked him.
The rain had already begun to wash away the runes. Cain frowned at her question and worriedly looked out over the moors for signs of a certain goddess that had been absent for a few days. Nothing leapt out at him and there were few trees among the expansive grasslands for her to be perched in.
“I get what you’re implying, but there’s no sign of her,” said Cain. “Maybe the winds kicked up and blew it in faster than we expected.” He turned back towards Gwyn and smiled at her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, so, that was really fantastic for a first attempt. It was amazing to see you at work, confidently practicing such an obscure form of the arcane like a master. I’m proud of you.”
Tears welled up in the corners of Gwyn’s eyes and she spun around on the balls of her feet and headed inside the cabin, closing the door behind her with a snap. Bewildered by the sudden turn of events, Cain stared at the door for a few seconds and contemplated following her. He decided instead to sit back down with his coffee and to give her some space. Gwyn was a complicated person that he still didn’t fully understand, and he’d learned from past mistakes not to pressure her.
Only a few moments had lapsed before the door was yanked back open and Gwyndala stomped out onto the porch, her previously dark red hair now changed to a delightful shade of golden-yellow that resembled an early spring tulip.
“Stand up!” she commanded. Cain did as he was told, while simultaneously being apprehensive about this change in demeanor. “Did you really mean what you said before?” she asked him, hopefully. “That you’re proud of me?”
“Is that what this is about?” he replied, letting himself relax. “Of course I’m proud of you, Gwyn! How could I not be after what you just pulled off?”
Gwyn threw herself into his arms and let the happy tears flow once again. “I’m sorry, I must seem like a damn blubbering nutjob.” She squeezed him tightly and then let go to dry her eyes. “Thank you, Cain. I, um… no one’s ever said that to me. Not once. I just needed a minute to let it sink in…”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly get dealt a fair hand with life, you know. And my offer still stands: if you want a fresh start when this is all over, there’s a place for you at the Blue Palace.”
“Cain, we talked about this,” said Gwyn, a look of sadness dancing behind her eyes. “I can’t go back with you and you know that. I don’t belong in your life during that period of time. We’re already pushing the boundaries and testing the limits of reality by trying to save your wife and altering the past. But you existed there when you were supposed to. I was here, living in misery and hunting bandits for the gold to survive. We can’t [censored] around with the natural order of things like that.”
“I know that, Gwyn, I do. That doesn’t mean I have to agree with it. I hate the idea of you being out here on your own, without Time unfolding the way it has for us. What’ll happen to you if I’m not there to be saved? And if I’m not there to save you? You deserve a chance at a better life and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if my own desires washed that all away. Come back with me and to hell with the consequences!”
“Uggggghhhhh, stop speaking in convoluted circles like that! Temporal mechanics give me a [censored] headache. No more talking for a while. I’m going to brew some tea and then we are just going to sit and watch the rain, got it?”
She didn’t bother waiting for Cain to answer and headed back inside once again to throw the kettle on. He sipped again from his coffee that had long since become tepid and wondered to himself if asking Gwyn to grab him a mug of tea too would count against her no talking rule. Thankfully, he didn’t have to dwell on that for very long – their time together had become a fast friendship and she anticipated his want for a new drink.
So, for the next hour, they sat in silence with their hot tea and watched the storms roll across the Glenumbra Moors.
----
“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Linneá.
“What?” asked Serana. “Did you find something in that one?”
The two of them had spent the last four nights pouring over the books loaned to them by their brother, trying to piece together whatever it was that spurred on his desire to attempt such a dangerous and unpredictable endeavor. Until now, they had come up empty.
“It just clicked into place. And I hate to say it, dear, but… he’s right. Holy [censored]. Cain and Gwyn are on to something tangible, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already taken practice steps to test the validity.” She set the book down and took a few deep breaths to center herself. The implications were astounding, yet Linneá wondered if they should never see the light of day. “Ana this is real. With the right tools, he could actually alter the past with little ramifications, provided he does so with the utmost caution. He could save her, at the cost of only his time away from us this past year or so. And Gwyn, I suppose. They’ll never meet and only Cain would be aware of her.”
Serana closed her book and threw it on the bed, frowning at jumble of thoughts circulating through her wife’s mind. She reached out and placed a hand on Linneá’s leg.
“Slow down for a minute and explain to me what you found. Your brain is moving too fast for me to parse it out.”
“Cain was right about our inborn nature as Dragonborn and how we can attune ourselves to the flow of time. It’s not something I had previously considered, because I always assumed that only the most powerful dragons like Alduin or Akatosh himself could have any influence directly on it. But this isn’t so. If we can grasp the threads of linear time, either through magick, or by some other means, it can be navigated by someone possessing the willpower to do so. And he definitely has that.”
Leaning back in her chair, Serana exhaled loudly and stared up at the lofty ceiling. Searching inward, she found that the idea of it all terrified her on some level, and yet she could sense the mounting excitement over the prospect of it that Linneá was beginning to emanate. Her wife had always had a strong inclination towards learning and understanding magick at its deepest, but Serana couldn’t help but wonder if this was going too far.
Could Anska be saved? Or was the question they needed to ask not could, but should? Then she asked herself if either question truly mattered, for they would never know if Cain did succeed. Life would simply unfold from that new point in time, with Anska and her unborn child alive and well. They would only come to know of what happened if Cain told them what he’d done.
However, even that was uncertain. No one could predict temporal magick, otherwise it would have become more prevalent. His incursion into the past could blend both realties into one, leaving a lot of confusion and disorientation it the wake of it. Or maybe…
“I had the exact same though, my love,” said Linneá. “If he does this, I only see one scenario where it possibly works and the timing will be tricky, but not impossible.”
“You’re going to help him then?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. This isn’t something to rush headlong into and we haven’t had the luxury of considering it for three months.”
“I agree,” said Serana. “I won’t ask you not to, but let’s take some time to mull it over carefully. Especially since time is the one thing that we don’t have to worry about in all of this madness.”
-----
Nearly ten days had come and gone since Linneá disappeared from Gwyn’s cabin with the books Cain had loaned her. Kyne had visited once in the interim but it had been a cordial and brief stop to see how he was doing. In the meantime, several more ritual circles had been created and wiped away each day while Gwyn honed her influence over Chronomancy. She’d repeated the process with the flower a few times before moving onto more complex life. So far, only one toad had perished when she sped up time for it just a tad too much.
The spells were taxing though, and typically by midday she was spent. And to top it off, Cain’s incessant pacing had been driving her up the wall until she finally caved and allowed him to organize her chaotic house as a way to pass the time while they waited. Gwyn didn’t love the idea of him rooting through her belongings, but she had become empathetic enough to understand that the current inaction was unbearable for the man, especially when they were so close.
She watched him struggle to hang a particularly skimpy black dress of hers and began to wonder if she was making the right choice in staying behind. Life had been so… grim, before he had wormed his way in. What would happen to her once he alters the past and never became a part of her life? Gwyn supposed she would technically never know, but damn it if the man didn’t have a huge influence on the woman she was slowly becoming.
Her idle thoughts were interrupted by a flash of purple light from inside her home, followed by two voices – one she recognized and another she didn’t. Gwyn headed inside and was greeted by Linneá with a nod, and with an apprising smile from a shorter pale woman who had equally dark, shoulder-length hair, and keen blue eyes.
“Ah, there you are Gwyn,” said Cain. “This is Serana: Linneá’s wife and my sister-in-law!”
Gwyndala offered a small curtsy and wasted no time with a question for them. “How in the hell did you find someone in that backward ass province who would wed two women?”
“Kyne,” shrugged Serana. “She does what she wants. And it’s nice to meet you Gwyn. Heard a bit about you from Elle.”
“Mhm. So, what brings you ladies to my home unannounced? Again.”
Linneá slipped her shoulder bag off and pulled out the three books Cain had offered her last week, setting them down on the now cleared off coffee table.
“So, we read through them and debated the merits of what you said, brother. You were right to infer that the answer would jump out at me, but I still have some questions before we agree to anything.”
“Shoot,” said Cain.
“First off, what was your actual plan?”
Cain looked at her in surprise. He had expected in depth questions on the means of time travel itself, not what he would do if it worked. Gwyn was also looking curiously at him and he started to wonder if they’d missed something.
“Um, I was just going to grab Anska, mum, and Salihn and take them to Elysium until the attack ended. Figured I would just regroup with dad and finish the job like we did the first time.”
“Thought it’d be something like that,” said Serana. “That’s not feasible, Cain.”
“How so?” frowned Gwyn, heading off a similar response from him. “It ties up everything with a neat little bow, doesn’t it? Cain saves his fiancé and gets his family out of danger. Everything is hunky-dory”
“No, it’s not,” tutted Linneá. “You missed something vital with temporal mechanics – when Cain goes back there will suddenly be two of him in the palace. And that’s where things will get ugly. You’re not going to replace your past self, he’ll still be there defending our home.”
“Then how – oh,” said Cain. “Oh, damn. I see where you’re going with this. That’s going to be really awkward to explain. [censored], but what about mum and Salihn? I can’t leave them there to fend for themselves!”
“Take them to Elysium like you planned and then high-tail it out of there before anyone notices.”
“Hold the [censored] on,” chimed Gwyn. “How will THAT work? If the past Cain is still there, then his fiancé is going to disappear for ten months with a different version of himself! How the [censored] does any of this make sense?”
“And that’s where Elle and I got to before draining a bottle of brandy to make the headache go away,” replied Serana. “I think we’ve collectively re-discovered the reason why Time Magick has become taboo.”
Cain leaned back dejectedly in his chair with a feeling of failure welling up inside. It was all unraveling. Everything he and Gwyn had worked at day and night for three months was amounting to nothing. No matter what angle he looked at it from, the entire plan began to fall apart the further along it got. He felt the headache coming on and decided it was time for a very strong pot of coffee.
Though they are experiencing some technical success with time manipulation, it is not long before the potential problems begin to reveal themselves.
They are not far off to believe that if Cain rescues Anska, Gwyn will likely not survive. Then Linneá, after some reading, brings up some other vexing concerns. The potential risks are very high for a distinct possibility that it will not work – or work with disastrous consequences. What would Anska’s counsel be? I think I know. The same as Kyne’s I suspect – which may well be why Cain is reluctant to ask her. That should tell him something.
Then there is Gwyn. I suspect there are more than the seeds of friendship growing in her heart. Yet how can she compete with the ghost of a woman who died a heroine - unless she gets a bit of help from Cain?
I am certainly on the edge of my seat as Cain wrestles with these high stakes decisions and plots his course.
They are not far off to believe that if Cain rescues Anska, Gwyn will likely not survive. Then Linneá, after some reading, brings up some other vexing concerns. The potential risks are very high for a distinct possibility that it will not work – or work with disastrous consequences. What would Anska’s counsel be? I think I know. The same as Kyne’s I suspect – which may well be why Cain is reluctant to ask her. That should tell him something.
Then there is Gwyn. I suspect there are more than the seeds of friendship growing in her heart. Yet how can she compete with the ghost of a woman who died a heroine - unless she gets a bit of help from Cain?
I am certainly on the edge of my seat as Cain wrestles with these high stakes decisions and plots his course.
Temporal mechanics sure are a hoot, eh? I was pulling my hair out earlier trying to make nonsense make sense. Deep down I think he does know exactly what Anska would be saying on the matter, even of he can't bring himself to acknowledge it.
And yeah, no matter how this shakes out, it appears to set up Gwyn as the one with who loses the most. Either they figure out a safe way for him to go back to the past, and she never meets him, or Anska comes forward in time and leaves with a content Cain. Gwyn would still be a part of his life, but she'd be in the backseat while they build a family.
And yeah, no matter how this shakes out, it appears to set up Gwyn as the one with who loses the most. Either they figure out a safe way for him to go back to the past, and she never meets him, or Anska comes forward in time and leaves with a content Cain. Gwyn would still be a part of his life, but she'd be in the backseat while they build a family.
Chapter XLII – Division
Kirin knocked on the door to his daughter’s living space and waited patiently for an answer that wasn’t coming. He tried the doorknob and found it to be locked, so with a sigh he instead headed for their private library in one of the lower chambers. It was also empty and he returned to his study growing more and more frustrated. Shortly thereafter, Lydia slipped through the door with Salihn at her heel. The little one made for her usual corner of the room where her grandparents kept a small pile of toys, while Lydia joined him behind the desk.
“Something wrong, husband? You look a bit out of sorts.”
“Any idea where the girls went?”
“Linn mentioned something about Cain but didn’t offer any details. I just assumed she’s checking up on him again and that Serana wanted to tag along and see him, too. I thought about asking her to take me to see him tomorrow, if you’d like to join us.”
He took a sip of water from a glass on his desk and considered that for a moment. By all accounts, it would not be a dangerous trip to undertake, and he really did yearn to see his son again. Maybe he could speak to Linneá about it later.
“Any idea when they will be back? I think we should start moving some of the more dangerous items from Elysium, but I’m at a loss as to where we could move them that would still be safe. Certainly not here, that’s for sure.”
“And you’re thinking that Linn may have some secret bolt hole from her time in the guild?”
“Something like that, yeah,” said Kirin. “She knows the land better than any of us.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon, dear. His friend seems nice enough, but Linn mentioned she’s very guarded and doesn’t care for the extra company. I must admit, I’m almost equally interested in meeting this woman as I am in seeing Cain again.”
They heard a low rumbling sound and glanced over at Salihn. The little elf had dozed off in her toy pile while they spoke and snored nearly as loudly as Linneá did. Lydia gave her husband a kiss and then went to scoop up their granddaughter. They headed down the hall to her own living quarters and took a nap together while Kirin went back to work.
“There is one other thing I still don’t understand, Cain,” said Linneá. “You mentioned needing my help but I gathered it was for more than just coming to the same conclusion you did. What haven’t you told us yet?”
“Hardly seems to matter now,” he grumbled.
Cain’s mood had grown increasingly dour while they’d been debating the futility of pulling off time travel without thoroughly thrashing the timeline and causing reality to come undone. The coffee helped with the headaches but did little to assuage the feelings of helplessness that were creeping back up from the depths he’d buried them in.
“Yeah, we’re losing him,” said Gwyn, staring worriedly at her friend. She could tell it was time to take the reins and put all their cards on the table. “Look, I’ll be honest… this part scares even me. Practicing some spells outside was one thing, but, well… he wants the three Elder Scrolls your family has hidden away at your old home.”
Nothing but the sound of a gentle breeze across the moor could be heard after Gwyn finished speaking. She had nearly winced when the words came out, half expecting Cain’s sisters to immediately trounce on them for even suggesting something so outlandish. Somehow, this stunned silence was ever worse, but this time Serana broke it first.
“I mean… just no. [censored] no! What the [censored] are you two thinking?! Time Magic is dangerous enough on its own and now you want to add Elder Scrolls into the mix? Are you trying to finish what Alduin started, or are you two really just that [censored] daft?!”
“Look here, princess,” Gwyn fired back. “No one invited you into my goddamn house to insult me. Cain needs your help and if you aren’t willing to give it then you can get the [censored] out before I make you.” Her hair faded from a shimmering azure to deep crimson before their eyes, and the barest flicker of a corrupted spell sparked in her palm.
Cain saw the arcing of red magick and his occupied mind jolted back to the forefront. “Gwyn, no,” he said, motioning to her trembling fist. “She’s not trying to insult you. That was a valid, if rather direct response to a statement we both know is absurd. Just take a deep breath – the last thing we need is to be fighting with each other. Anska and I went down that road once before and it sucked for everyone.”
Gwyn closed her eyes for a moment while her temper leveled off. Afterwards, she retreated to her tiny pantry by the fireplace and pulled out an unlabeled bottle and three dusty glasses. Then she joined them around the table again and poured out a generous measure of the deep caramel liquid for herself, Linneá, and Serana.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” she said. “Take a few sips and we’ll start over without the hostility.” Serana picked up her glass and examined it closely and then set it back down, prompting Gwyn to give her a nudge. “Drink up, girl. I was told you like brandy and this is the good stuff from Daggerfall. It puts that [censored] from Cyrodiil to shame.
“Uh, why exactly was that spell you had primed red?” asked Linneá, pointing at Gwyn’s hand. “I know more about magick than most and the only time I’ve seen variations of that color is when Ana and I were vampires. What kind of magick do you practice, Gwyn?”
“Destruction and that’s all you need to know,” said Gwyn, evasively. “Now, I believe we were talking about Elder Scrolls, yes? I’m not going to beat around the bush… will you help us or not?”
A fleeting look passed between Cain’s sisters. Ah, that would be connection he mentioned, thought Gwyn. I can see the merits of it. And why losing Anska broke him so. Gwyn took a deep sip from her brandy and let her eyes drift over to Cain. Judging by the solemn expression on his face, he’d spotted it too and knew what was coming next.
Linneá sighed and placed a gentle hand on his leg. “I’m sorry, but we can’t. Not in that way. They’re simply too dangerous to exploit in such a manner. We all know what happened the last time people tried using a Scroll to solve their problems, and mum and dad barely survived the end result.”
Cain stood up and headed outside without a word and Linneá followed just behind him leaving Gwyn and Serana in the throes of another uncomfortable silence. Serana had been watching Gwyn closely while her wife had broken the news, and she still nearly missed the playful smile that disappeared more quickly than it had formed. It was the only break in Gwyn’s usually guarded demeanor since they’d arrived, and one that Serana knew all too well. She recalled wearing that same smile plenty of times when Linneá wasn’t looking.
“Gwyn?” she had to be delicate about this. The girl seemed to run hot with her emotions.
“What?” came the waspish reply. “Don’t be bashful, you weren’t before.”
“If that’s how you want to play it, fine,” Serana took a deep breath and after Linneá silently confirmed that she and Cain would be a few minutes, she dove right in. “How long have you had feelings for Cain?” Gwyn began to stammer out a response and her pale face took on a delicate pink hue, but Serana cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it, I saw your reaction when Elle turned you two down. You don’t want this to work, do you? The Scrolls were his ticket to making something, anything, work and now that they aren’t an option, you’ll have more time with him. So, what’s the plan? Stick by his side until he gives up this crusade to rescue Anska, hoping he’ll see you as more than a friend? Or do you have a more direct approach in mind that won’t involve him ditching you for assuming he wants anyone but the woman he’s willing to risk destroying reality for?”
“That’s… your…I don’t… I… [censored].” Gwyn leaned forward with her head in her hands. “How in the hell did you figure all that out from single, half-second slip?”
“I was a vampire in a royal court for a very long time. Studying others is what I do. And I appreciate you not trying to lie about it.”
Gwyn drained the rest of her glass and filled it back up to the top before downing that one, too. The strong brandy scorched her throat on the way down but she savored the burn as a distraction from the conversation she now found herself in. A conversation she never expected to have with anyone.
“You will not say a word about this to anyone, got it?” she said to Serana. “Cain can’t know, not while he’s still so wrapped up in this. When you and Linneá leave, he’s going to fall apart worse than before and I’ll have to help pick up the pieces. Again. It’s gonna [censored] suck, but I managed it before and I can do so again. He’s earned it twice over in our time together.”
“Wow, he really did a number on you, huh? I won’t deny that Cain’s an exceptional man, but what brought this on, Gwyn?”
She thought back over the last few months with Cain and the rocky start their friendship had begun with. Gwyn hadn’t wanted anyone else in her life and barely tolerated his presence after she’d save him from death, and from his alcohol addiction. Here was another man to distrust, like so many others she had come across in her life. Yet, Cain often went out of his way to be grateful for her help that night, even though it had been for selfish purposes. And then he’d saved her life not ten hours after she told him to piss off and never come back. Saved her from the one thing she vowed never to let happen again.
It wasn’t until that same afternoon that they’d truly become friends, and she started to look on him kindlier. Looked past the grieving man to what he could be, given enough time… And then she’d let her curiosity get the best of her. Started asking about his nature as Dragonborn and soon steered them down the path that lay beneath their feet.
Realizing she hadn’t answered Serana, Gwyn let her heart speak. “He was kind to me when he didn’t need to be. When I didn’t deserve it. When I did my best to push him away, and nearly succeeded. Then, he saved me from being raped and murdered by bandits, and just like that, Cain had done more for me than almost anyone in my life ever had. And he didn’t stop there. The final nail in the coffin came last week when he offered something so simple, yet so powerful. Praise. He praised me like know else ever had.”
Gwyn brushed away a tear in a vain attempt to keep her eyeshadow from running. Serana handed her a kerchief and refilled her empty cup once again. She couldn’t help but pity the woman.
“Drink up, dear. I wish I could offer you some advice, but I suspect you’re right about my brother. Elle and I just killed his one desire and one reason for continuing on. The road for his recovery has grown long once again and I doubt he’ll come home to let us help him. He’s going to need your friendship more than ever, Gwyn.”
The door to the cabin opened and Cain trudged in with Linneá right behind him. He looked angrier than Gwyn had ever seen him, and she was shocked to see that Linneá’s eyes were red and swollen. Their talk obviously hadn’t gone very well, for his sister didn’t say a word while she grabbed Serana’s hand and teleported them away. He didn’t say a word to her as he kicked off his boots and climbed into bed.
Morning came when it always did, even though it felt too soon to Gwyn. She didn’t sleep much last night and she wasn’t sure if Cain had either. Her friend hadn’t said a word to her since Linneá and Serana left the night before. Feeling hungry and thirsty, Gwyn kicked off her blankets and started bustling around the cabin in search of a bite to eat while she put the kettle on. With a fresh mug of her favorite tea ready, she went outside and sat on the porch. The activity must have awoken Cain, for he soon joined her with his own cup of the steaming beverage.
They watched the sun rise over the Glenumbra Moors in silence, until Gwyn broke the reverie. “Cain? What happened between you and your sister last night?”
He didn’t answer right away. Anger had gotten the best of him last night and he had said some hurtful things to his sister that he was already regretting. What Linneá had said was right, even if he didn’t want to hear it. The pain of losing their only shot at saving Anska was too much for him and he was barely holding himself together, but Gwyn didn’t deserve to see him like that again.
“Things got heated,” he shrugged. “I tried my best to convince her but Linn is one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. Once she makes a decision, she sticks to it no matter what. She’s more than willing to deal with Anska being gone than using Elder Scrolls and time magick to save her. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. “He sipped from his tea again and got to his feet. Gwyn could sense the darkness in him returning full force and it terrified her. “I’m gonna take a walk.”
Cain disappeared into the early morning mist while Gwyn watched solemnly. He needed help now more than ever but she wasn’t sure how to go about it. Would she let it go and try to get him through this? Serana said the road would be long and Gwyn knew deep down it was further than his sister realized. And yet, Gwyn had tossed and turned all night while she wrestled with a new approach to the problem and whether or not she should bring it to him. Or could.
The glum look on his face when returned an hour later answered the question for her. As much as she wanted to be selfish and hold onto him, Cain needed Anska – and Gwyn found that she would rather just see him whole again, even if it meant they’d never be together.
“Want some breakfast?” he asked her. “I’m starving and misery loves company.”
“I could eat,” said Gwyn. “Although, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about first, if can spare a minute.”
“What is it?”
“Um. I was up for most of the night thinking about our efforts. I’d hate to see them be for naught, so I tried to approach the problem from a different angle. One that doesn’t involve the Elder Scrolls.”
“I’m listening.”
“How would you feel about joining the ritual circle with me… and letting me draw power from your dragon spirit?”
Kirin knocked on the door to his daughter’s living space and waited patiently for an answer that wasn’t coming. He tried the doorknob and found it to be locked, so with a sigh he instead headed for their private library in one of the lower chambers. It was also empty and he returned to his study growing more and more frustrated. Shortly thereafter, Lydia slipped through the door with Salihn at her heel. The little one made for her usual corner of the room where her grandparents kept a small pile of toys, while Lydia joined him behind the desk.
“Something wrong, husband? You look a bit out of sorts.”
“Any idea where the girls went?”
“Linn mentioned something about Cain but didn’t offer any details. I just assumed she’s checking up on him again and that Serana wanted to tag along and see him, too. I thought about asking her to take me to see him tomorrow, if you’d like to join us.”
He took a sip of water from a glass on his desk and considered that for a moment. By all accounts, it would not be a dangerous trip to undertake, and he really did yearn to see his son again. Maybe he could speak to Linneá about it later.
“Any idea when they will be back? I think we should start moving some of the more dangerous items from Elysium, but I’m at a loss as to where we could move them that would still be safe. Certainly not here, that’s for sure.”
“And you’re thinking that Linn may have some secret bolt hole from her time in the guild?”
“Something like that, yeah,” said Kirin. “She knows the land better than any of us.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back soon, dear. His friend seems nice enough, but Linn mentioned she’s very guarded and doesn’t care for the extra company. I must admit, I’m almost equally interested in meeting this woman as I am in seeing Cain again.”
They heard a low rumbling sound and glanced over at Salihn. The little elf had dozed off in her toy pile while they spoke and snored nearly as loudly as Linneá did. Lydia gave her husband a kiss and then went to scoop up their granddaughter. They headed down the hall to her own living quarters and took a nap together while Kirin went back to work.
-----
“There is one other thing I still don’t understand, Cain,” said Linneá. “You mentioned needing my help but I gathered it was for more than just coming to the same conclusion you did. What haven’t you told us yet?”
“Hardly seems to matter now,” he grumbled.
Cain’s mood had grown increasingly dour while they’d been debating the futility of pulling off time travel without thoroughly thrashing the timeline and causing reality to come undone. The coffee helped with the headaches but did little to assuage the feelings of helplessness that were creeping back up from the depths he’d buried them in.
“Yeah, we’re losing him,” said Gwyn, staring worriedly at her friend. She could tell it was time to take the reins and put all their cards on the table. “Look, I’ll be honest… this part scares even me. Practicing some spells outside was one thing, but, well… he wants the three Elder Scrolls your family has hidden away at your old home.”
Nothing but the sound of a gentle breeze across the moor could be heard after Gwyn finished speaking. She had nearly winced when the words came out, half expecting Cain’s sisters to immediately trounce on them for even suggesting something so outlandish. Somehow, this stunned silence was ever worse, but this time Serana broke it first.
“I mean… just no. [censored] no! What the [censored] are you two thinking?! Time Magic is dangerous enough on its own and now you want to add Elder Scrolls into the mix? Are you trying to finish what Alduin started, or are you two really just that [censored] daft?!”
“Look here, princess,” Gwyn fired back. “No one invited you into my goddamn house to insult me. Cain needs your help and if you aren’t willing to give it then you can get the [censored] out before I make you.” Her hair faded from a shimmering azure to deep crimson before their eyes, and the barest flicker of a corrupted spell sparked in her palm.
Cain saw the arcing of red magick and his occupied mind jolted back to the forefront. “Gwyn, no,” he said, motioning to her trembling fist. “She’s not trying to insult you. That was a valid, if rather direct response to a statement we both know is absurd. Just take a deep breath – the last thing we need is to be fighting with each other. Anska and I went down that road once before and it sucked for everyone.”
Gwyn closed her eyes for a moment while her temper leveled off. Afterwards, she retreated to her tiny pantry by the fireplace and pulled out an unlabeled bottle and three dusty glasses. Then she joined them around the table again and poured out a generous measure of the deep caramel liquid for herself, Linneá, and Serana.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” she said. “Take a few sips and we’ll start over without the hostility.” Serana picked up her glass and examined it closely and then set it back down, prompting Gwyn to give her a nudge. “Drink up, girl. I was told you like brandy and this is the good stuff from Daggerfall. It puts that [censored] from Cyrodiil to shame.
“Uh, why exactly was that spell you had primed red?” asked Linneá, pointing at Gwyn’s hand. “I know more about magick than most and the only time I’ve seen variations of that color is when Ana and I were vampires. What kind of magick do you practice, Gwyn?”
“Destruction and that’s all you need to know,” said Gwyn, evasively. “Now, I believe we were talking about Elder Scrolls, yes? I’m not going to beat around the bush… will you help us or not?”
A fleeting look passed between Cain’s sisters. Ah, that would be connection he mentioned, thought Gwyn. I can see the merits of it. And why losing Anska broke him so. Gwyn took a deep sip from her brandy and let her eyes drift over to Cain. Judging by the solemn expression on his face, he’d spotted it too and knew what was coming next.
Linneá sighed and placed a gentle hand on his leg. “I’m sorry, but we can’t. Not in that way. They’re simply too dangerous to exploit in such a manner. We all know what happened the last time people tried using a Scroll to solve their problems, and mum and dad barely survived the end result.”
Cain stood up and headed outside without a word and Linneá followed just behind him leaving Gwyn and Serana in the throes of another uncomfortable silence. Serana had been watching Gwyn closely while her wife had broken the news, and she still nearly missed the playful smile that disappeared more quickly than it had formed. It was the only break in Gwyn’s usually guarded demeanor since they’d arrived, and one that Serana knew all too well. She recalled wearing that same smile plenty of times when Linneá wasn’t looking.
“Gwyn?” she had to be delicate about this. The girl seemed to run hot with her emotions.
“What?” came the waspish reply. “Don’t be bashful, you weren’t before.”
“If that’s how you want to play it, fine,” Serana took a deep breath and after Linneá silently confirmed that she and Cain would be a few minutes, she dove right in. “How long have you had feelings for Cain?” Gwyn began to stammer out a response and her pale face took on a delicate pink hue, but Serana cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it, I saw your reaction when Elle turned you two down. You don’t want this to work, do you? The Scrolls were his ticket to making something, anything, work and now that they aren’t an option, you’ll have more time with him. So, what’s the plan? Stick by his side until he gives up this crusade to rescue Anska, hoping he’ll see you as more than a friend? Or do you have a more direct approach in mind that won’t involve him ditching you for assuming he wants anyone but the woman he’s willing to risk destroying reality for?”
“That’s… your…I don’t… I… [censored].” Gwyn leaned forward with her head in her hands. “How in the hell did you figure all that out from single, half-second slip?”
“I was a vampire in a royal court for a very long time. Studying others is what I do. And I appreciate you not trying to lie about it.”
Gwyn drained the rest of her glass and filled it back up to the top before downing that one, too. The strong brandy scorched her throat on the way down but she savored the burn as a distraction from the conversation she now found herself in. A conversation she never expected to have with anyone.
“You will not say a word about this to anyone, got it?” she said to Serana. “Cain can’t know, not while he’s still so wrapped up in this. When you and Linneá leave, he’s going to fall apart worse than before and I’ll have to help pick up the pieces. Again. It’s gonna [censored] suck, but I managed it before and I can do so again. He’s earned it twice over in our time together.”
“Wow, he really did a number on you, huh? I won’t deny that Cain’s an exceptional man, but what brought this on, Gwyn?”
She thought back over the last few months with Cain and the rocky start their friendship had begun with. Gwyn hadn’t wanted anyone else in her life and barely tolerated his presence after she’d save him from death, and from his alcohol addiction. Here was another man to distrust, like so many others she had come across in her life. Yet, Cain often went out of his way to be grateful for her help that night, even though it had been for selfish purposes. And then he’d saved her life not ten hours after she told him to piss off and never come back. Saved her from the one thing she vowed never to let happen again.
It wasn’t until that same afternoon that they’d truly become friends, and she started to look on him kindlier. Looked past the grieving man to what he could be, given enough time… And then she’d let her curiosity get the best of her. Started asking about his nature as Dragonborn and soon steered them down the path that lay beneath their feet.
Realizing she hadn’t answered Serana, Gwyn let her heart speak. “He was kind to me when he didn’t need to be. When I didn’t deserve it. When I did my best to push him away, and nearly succeeded. Then, he saved me from being raped and murdered by bandits, and just like that, Cain had done more for me than almost anyone in my life ever had. And he didn’t stop there. The final nail in the coffin came last week when he offered something so simple, yet so powerful. Praise. He praised me like know else ever had.”
Gwyn brushed away a tear in a vain attempt to keep her eyeshadow from running. Serana handed her a kerchief and refilled her empty cup once again. She couldn’t help but pity the woman.
“Drink up, dear. I wish I could offer you some advice, but I suspect you’re right about my brother. Elle and I just killed his one desire and one reason for continuing on. The road for his recovery has grown long once again and I doubt he’ll come home to let us help him. He’s going to need your friendship more than ever, Gwyn.”
The door to the cabin opened and Cain trudged in with Linneá right behind him. He looked angrier than Gwyn had ever seen him, and she was shocked to see that Linneá’s eyes were red and swollen. Their talk obviously hadn’t gone very well, for his sister didn’t say a word while she grabbed Serana’s hand and teleported them away. He didn’t say a word to her as he kicked off his boots and climbed into bed.
-----
Morning came when it always did, even though it felt too soon to Gwyn. She didn’t sleep much last night and she wasn’t sure if Cain had either. Her friend hadn’t said a word to her since Linneá and Serana left the night before. Feeling hungry and thirsty, Gwyn kicked off her blankets and started bustling around the cabin in search of a bite to eat while she put the kettle on. With a fresh mug of her favorite tea ready, she went outside and sat on the porch. The activity must have awoken Cain, for he soon joined her with his own cup of the steaming beverage.
They watched the sun rise over the Glenumbra Moors in silence, until Gwyn broke the reverie. “Cain? What happened between you and your sister last night?”
He didn’t answer right away. Anger had gotten the best of him last night and he had said some hurtful things to his sister that he was already regretting. What Linneá had said was right, even if he didn’t want to hear it. The pain of losing their only shot at saving Anska was too much for him and he was barely holding himself together, but Gwyn didn’t deserve to see him like that again.
“Things got heated,” he shrugged. “I tried my best to convince her but Linn is one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. Once she makes a decision, she sticks to it no matter what. She’s more than willing to deal with Anska being gone than using Elder Scrolls and time magick to save her. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. “He sipped from his tea again and got to his feet. Gwyn could sense the darkness in him returning full force and it terrified her. “I’m gonna take a walk.”
Cain disappeared into the early morning mist while Gwyn watched solemnly. He needed help now more than ever but she wasn’t sure how to go about it. Would she let it go and try to get him through this? Serana said the road would be long and Gwyn knew deep down it was further than his sister realized. And yet, Gwyn had tossed and turned all night while she wrestled with a new approach to the problem and whether or not she should bring it to him. Or could.
The glum look on his face when returned an hour later answered the question for her. As much as she wanted to be selfish and hold onto him, Cain needed Anska – and Gwyn found that she would rather just see him whole again, even if it meant they’d never be together.
“Want some breakfast?” he asked her. “I’m starving and misery loves company.”
“I could eat,” said Gwyn. “Although, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about first, if can spare a minute.”
“What is it?”
“Um. I was up for most of the night thinking about our efforts. I’d hate to see them be for naught, so I tried to approach the problem from a different angle. One that doesn’t involve the Elder Scrolls.”
“I’m listening.”
“How would you feel about joining the ritual circle with me… and letting me draw power from your dragon spirit?”
Your skill with storytelling led me to pretty much the same conclusion as Serana. Gwyn’s feelings for Cain are even stronger than I thought though, for she is willing to continue trying to help him – even though success means he would be returned to Anska and she would be alone again. And the result might also preclude her being rescued from that likely mortal encounter with bandits.
So Elder Scrolls are out but, she thinks, how about joining his dragonborn power with her growing skill with temporal magic?
I wish Cain could hear from Anska's spirit somehow to perhaps help set him free. She died without even being able to say goodbye. Even Buffy had the luxury of hearing her dying mate's last words telling her to live her long elven life.
So Elder Scrolls are out but, she thinks, how about joining his dragonborn power with her growing skill with temporal magic?
I wish Cain could hear from Anska's spirit somehow to perhaps help set him free. She died without even being able to say goodbye. Even Buffy had the luxury of hearing her dying mate's last words telling her to live her long elven life.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 19 2025, 04:05 PM)
Your skill with storytelling...
That means a ton to me Acadian, thank you. 
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 19 2025, 04:05 PM)
...led me to pretty much the same conclusion as Serana. Gwyn’s feelings for Cain are even stronger than I thought though, for she is willing to continue trying to help him - even though success means he would be returned to Anska and she would be alone again. And the result might also preclude her being rescued from that likely mortal encounter with bandits.
It was sooooo hard for me to not give up the goose when you sussed that out in the last chapter! I think Gwyn still holds out hope that they'll at least be friends when it's all over. Everything about time travel remains uncertain, including her fate. glargg also had a good point that she and Serana share a similar dark past. I think on some level they are very in tune with each other, even if their fist encounter got off to a rocky start.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Apr 19 2025, 04:05 PM)
So Elder Scrolls are out but, she thinks, how about joining his dragonborn power with her growing skill with temporal magic?
I wish Cain could hear from Anska's spirit somehow to perhaps help set him free. She died without even being able to say goodbye. Even Buffy had the luxury of hearing her dying mate's last words telling her to live her long elven life.
I wish Cain could hear from Anska's spirit somehow to perhaps help set him free. She died without even being able to say goodbye. Even Buffy had the luxury of hearing her dying mate's last words telling her to live her long elven life.
That's still a looming factor and it's probably what Cain and Linneá argued about before her abrupt departure with Serana. He did get some time together with Anska at the end, but it was fleeting. Definitely not enough to get any kind of closure.
Chapter XLIII – Fractured
“…you want to do what?” asked Cain. “How in the hell would that even work?”
Gwyn sensed the hesitation in his voice but she also noticed the flicker of hope behind his eyes. No going back now, I guess. Why do I keep doing this to myself? She flicked a loose strand of hair away from her eye and tucked it behind an ear in an effort to hide the mistiness that had begun while her thoughts momentarily drifted.
She cleared her throat and explained her intentions. “Your dragon blood’s an incredible source of magick and power resting just beneath the surface, and it has a natural connection to what we are dealing with here. I should have seen it sooner, if I’m being honest. You showed me its potential weeks ago when you spoke three simple words and time itself slowed to a crawl. There’s no spell in existence that can do that, Cain. Not even the magick I’ve been practicing has an application like that. I think I can harness it during the ritual to open a rift in time that you’ll be able to navigate. We still don’t know what the end result will be, but it’s the only option left for you.”
Cain froze. He was sure all was lost after last night and somehow the diminutive Breton he’d been sharing his life with recently still continued to surprise him. Words eluded the thankfulness he was feeling towards Gwyn, so he pulled her up from the chair and hugged her instead. The top of her head barely met Cain’s shoulders and she had to stifle a gasp at the sudden embrace. [censored], he even manages to smell nice most of the time.
She pushed him away and feinted disdain while pointing a finger up at his chin. “Too much, don’t ruin it. You can thank me later this morning if it works.”
“You want to try it so soon?”
“No point in waiting.”
The cloudy night sky obscured the bright red and white glows of Masser and Secunda from shining through Linne and Serana’s bedroom window. The couple were lying awake in bed, now late into the night, comforting each other after an ill-fated discussion with their elder brother. While her wife’s revelations with Gwyn turned out to be an interesting surprise and turn of events, Linne had recalled them home feeling more disconnected from Cain than ever.
“Do you think he’s given up on saving her?” asked Serana. Linne’s head rested on her lap as she idly twirled her dark locks of hair. When they got home, she’d been more upset than Serana had seen her in a long time.
“I don’t know,” she sniffled. “I don’t see how he can at this point. One thing is for certain, though… we are going back tomorrow, and I think it’s time our parents came along with us. Kyne, too.”
“Oh, that will be a hoot,” giggled Serana. Linne rolled over and stared up at her with one eyebrow raised. “That was sarcasm, Elle. Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Hm. I should have picked up on that. He really did get me twisted up like a pretzel.”
“I don’t think he meant what he said, hon. He loves you very much and I’m sure he already wishes things had gone differently. We’ll find out tomorrow, I promise. And I agree that it’s time for us all to go – even if he doesn’t come home, we might be able to talk him down. This madness has to end. But, let’s get some sleep now and talk about it in the morning, okay?”
With a subtle nod, Linne sat up and pivoted to lay her head on the pillow. She threw and arm over Serana and pulled herself in close, breathing her perfume in deeply and drifting off to a restless slumber.
It was still cloudy later that morning and the smell of rain hung on the air as Kirin stood on the balcony of his study and gazed out over the marshy lowlands of Hjaalmarch. The murky swamps filled with dangerous creatures and dense groves surrounding his home village of Morthal elicited a deep fog that no amount of sunshine ever seemed to burn off. He often took a break from the day-to-day toil of being High King to look down at the gloomy expanse and ruminate on his younger days. And each time he was still amazed at how far he’d risen. And how lucky he was to have a loving and supportive family by his side.
A low murmur of sound drifted through the window to his left and he wondered what the girls would be doing in his study so early in day. He ambled back inside and was alarmed to see not just his daughters, but Lydia and Kyne, as well.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Lydia came to his side and grabbed his hands. “It’s time to go see our son. All of us. Linn has relayed some disturbing information to Kyne and I, and Cain needs us now more than ever.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” admitted Kirin. “What are he and that other woman up to out there?”
“Well, according to Linn and Serana,” Kyne began, “they’ve been messing with Time Magic in a misguided effort to undo Anska’s death and bring her back. I wish my children here would have told me sooner but we still have time to act. They at least were wise enough to deny him use of the Elder Scrolls.”
“How long have you known about this?” Kirin demanded, rounding on his daughters. “And why the hell did you not tell us sooner?!”
“M’sorry, dad,” said Linne. “Our curiosity got the better of us at first, but we did recognize that Cain is taking it too far. It’s been about eleven days since he clued us in and I don’t think he and Gwyn are any closer to actually attempting it. We pretty much trounced their only chance last night by refusing to give them the Scrolls. It, uh, didn’t end well.”
Kirin regarded them angrily for a moment. He couldn’t believe they’d been hiding this from everyone, including their patron goddess. Then he noticed the downcast expression his normally cheerful daughter wore and knew that whatever happened between her and Cain last night was eating away at her and that she needed to see him again soon.
He beckoned her over and offered a comforting hug. “Don’t sweat it, Linn. I know you just wanted to help him. We all do. I take it you and Serana want to leave with haste?”
“Now,” said Lydia. “We need to go now. Salihn is at school and Kyne will meet us there, husband.”
“Very well. Where did you say they are holed up? On the Glenumbra Moors? Always wanted to go see them someday anyway. Take us away, Linn.”
“Ana’s mastered the spell, too. You take her hand and mum can come with me.”
A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the study and a large brown hawk soared out of the open window and into the grey skies above Tamriel.
The very same skies above Gwyndala Louvain’s meager cabin were abnormally dark. It seemed as if morning had come for only a couple of hours before night charged back in unabated, blanketing the grasslands under an oppressively dour dusk. Inside her home, all was still. The beds were empty and the fire in the hearth had burned down to a smoldering pile of ash.
Cain and Gwyn sat outside on the ground, directly in the center of the largest ritual circle they had made thus far. The chronomantic runes Gwyn had studied for weeks were painted all around them, interspersed with relevant clawed markings of the Dragon tongue that Cain had etched out. They sat facing each other with their eyes closed in concentration.
Gwyn’s heart pounded against the inside of her chest in fear of what was to come. She’d chosen this path to help her friend even though it meant throwing away any chance at becoming something more than that. Opening her eyes, she saw the relaxed look on Cain’s face and decided it was time to stuff her feelings down for good and begin the spell. Blue magick flickered into life on her palms and flowed outward, feeding the various runes around them until they all glowed with the same energy.
Once the runes were fully primed, a web of magick expanded out in a sphere that perfectly encompassed the circle of cleared, bare earth. Mystical threads wove carelessly throughout the time barrier in a dazzling array of pulsating white lights. Occasionally, they would intersect to form one of the time runes or a Word of Power, and the resulting burst of magicka fed the ritual and increased the potency of Gwyn’s fervent spell casting.
Cain finally opened his eyes and the sight took his breath away. The barrier around them had grown more and more dense as it mirrored the markings on the ground until finally they began to feed off one another in a crisscrossing pattern enveloping the air within it.
“I’m ready if you are,” stated Gwyn. “All of my spells are charged and I can direct the energies through you like a conduit. If this works, a portal should slowly begin to form between us.”
“Do it,” said Cain. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening. In a matter of minutes, he would see her again. The thought of it filled him with a palpable excitement that pushed everything else out of his mind. Nothing mattered beyond holding Anska in his arms once again.
Gwyn sighed and focused the magick towards Cain, and three things happened near simultaneously. The swirling blue and white energy collapsed inward and fused itself with Cain’s dragon spirit; a large brown hawk fluttered down from the still darkening sky; and following a flash of purple light, four figures appeared out of thin air.
Hell broke loose all at once.
“NO!” Kyne’s divine voice rang out loudest of all, drowning out the shocked cries of Cain’s family. “YOU MUST STOP THIS AT ONCE! GWYNDALA! CAIN! I BEG OF YOU TO STOP BEFORE YOU DESTROY US ALL!”
“No no no no, don’t do this!” pleaded Linne, rushing up to the barrier. “Brother, I’m sorry we couldn’t help you but this is so much worse than using the Elder Scrolls! Mum is right, you have to end this! Please!”
Cain lowered his head in an effort to ignore them. The arrival of his entire family and Kyne herself was not something neither he nor Gwyn had anticipated and would only distract them from an already dangerous attempt at manipulating time and reality. Funnily enough, he’d thought they had more time.
“Should we continue?” whispered Gwyn. “What if Kyne can breach the circle?”
“She can’t,” promised Cain. “Time isn’t under her domain. Only Akatosh can intervene in this, and he doesn’t involve himself in mortal affairs. Keep going, Gwyn – I can feel the aperture beginning to form. The energy flowing through me is… intense. I need to concentrate.”
It took all of his strength to channel the flow of power safely through him, and he sensed that a large enough interruption would not only sever the link, but it would also endanger his life. Cain closed his eyes and breathed deeply while more voices tried to reason with them.
Kirin and Lydia had recovered from their initial shock and stood hand in hand at the edge of the time barrier. And his father spoke softly to him: “Cain, you must know this won’t work. Death cannot be undone and Anska has gone on to Sovngarde. She died a warrior’s death and will be honored in Shor’s Hall for eternity. We should honor her memory in life and leave her at rest until the day we join her ourselves. Let her go, my son… it’s the only way forward.”
“We know how much you loved her,” said Lydia. “We know how much she meant to you, and how you longed to marry her, and how you longed to raise your child with her. She was taken from us too soon, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw everything else away, Cain! Please, end this before you lose us all! And before you lose yourselves!”
Gwyn was watching her friend closely. He remained stoic in his concentration even as tears had begun to pour down her own cheeks from the remarks of those who loved him. She’d never had family like this other than Aunt Marcie and she was amazed at Cain’s ability to remain composed in light of their desperate pleas. But his concentration didn’t waver in the face of their goal and the tunnel they were tearing through time began to expand.
Serana left Kyne’s side and circled around until she was closer to the still mysterious Breton, and out of Cain’s earshot. “Gwyn you can stop this right? You have to know this only ends terribly for you. One way or another, you are going to lose him by going through with this.” She hoped that appealing to her infatuation with Cain would be enough. That it could sway her from continuing the spell. “At least if you stop now, you’ll still have him.”
Gwyn sniffled and shook her head to clear the moisture from her eyes. “No. It was a nice attempt, girl, but if this means he’ll be happy than that’s what I will give him. He deserves it far more than I do. No one will miss me if I’m gone…”
A multitude of overlapping voices continued to bombard Cain and Gwyn while they worked, and while the time vortex widened further and further. Cain struggled to drown them out while he focused on keeping the bridge between his soul and Gwyn’s magick stable. The effort was taxing all his strength and he knew that the slightest slip would undo the ritual entirely.
He heard the voices trail off for a few seconds until one of them approached the barrier’s edge directly and addressed him in a soft, kind voice. “Cain, please don’t do this,” said the goddess, her voice just audible enough for him to hear it. “Anska wouldn’t want you attempt something so dangerous and you know it. She’d want you to let go of her. You still have us, and you’ve even made a new friend in Gwyn. She’s willing to sacrifice it all for you, but are you really willing to do the same? Does she deserve that? Please, Cain… please end this.”
Tears started to drip from his eyes and splatter into the dirt at his knees. It didn’t mater what she said. What anyone of them said. They were so close he could taste it. After ten months apart, and months of work with Gwyn leading to this point, he was almost there. Another few minutes and the portal would be wide enough for him to step through.
“I’m sorry, mum,” he shook his head. “I need this more than any of you could possibly understand.”
The goddess stepped back and ushered the others to her side. “There is only one thing left I can do, if they won’t see reason. Spread out around the circle and kneel in wait, my children. We are going to appeal to Akatosh himself and I will lead the prayer.”
Kirin, Lydia, Linne, Serana, and Kyne moved apart until they were evenly spaced around the temporal barrier and knelt down with their eyes closed, arms raised to the blackened heavens. Gwyn had noticed them beginning to fan out and something about the look of certainty in Kyne’s face made her worry.
“Cain, I think they’re about to try something. Are you sure this will hold?”
“Yes. Only –“
“Lord Akatosh!” Kyne’s voice rang out clear, and far louder than any mortal could achieve. “We call for your aid in our team of need!”
“Oh no,” exclaimed Gwyn. “Damn it, Cain what if he does something? We’re making progress but it’s not big enough yet!”
“Just keep going.”
Kyne had continued the intonement while they spoke, but in this instance the Divine knew that brevity was more crucial than appeasement to the Lord of Time. The prayer was short and ended thusly: “Please end this incursion, this warping of Time as only you can!”
An eerie silence fell on the Glenumbra Moors. Cain’s family opened their eyes and gazed hopefully around for a sign that their prayers were heard. Gwyn, too, looked about frantically while Cain himself remained focused and attentive.
Without warning, a blinding white flash illuminated the dark morning, forcing everyone to shield their eyes against it. After a second or two, Gwyn felt the sudden brightness fade, and she opened her eyes with a gasp of shock that finally swayed Cain’s intense commitment to the spell.
Anska stood before him in the ritual circle, still adorned in her heavy armor with her favorite war axe hanging from a loop on her belt. Her long blonde hair fell beyond her lower back, braided in one long twist, and her warm brown eyes bore a sadness while she looked down upon her wayward fianc. A delicate golden aura of otherworldly power and beauty emanated from her ethereal form as she knelt down in front of Cain.
“Hello, my love,” she spoke softly to him.
“How –,“ began Cain, tears flowing unchecked at her sudden appearance.
“My lord Shor has granted this favor to Akatosh,” she explained. “I’ve been told of your plight, dear heart. Of your unwavering desire to save me. Of the pain and torment you have been dealing with since I was called to Sovngarde.” Anska took his hands in her own and stared calmly into his eyes. “And of what you’re attempting now. It won’t work, Cain. You’ll bring ruin to all those that you love.”
“I… I can’t stop,” cried Cain. “It’s been so hard without you. I lost everything I’d ever wanted when you died. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lay down and die with you, and with our unborn child. The silence in my head was deafening. It’s still deafening.”
“I understand, Cain. I do. But fate works in mysterious ways, and our love was always destined to be cut short. We made the most of the time we had, and for that we should be grateful. I’ll treasure it for eternity, but that’s a luxury that only I have.” She lifted a hand and brushed the tears away from his eyes. “You’re still alive. You have Kirin and Lydia, and you have Linne and Serana. I know how much they mean to you, and how much they love you.” Anska glanced behind her at Gwyn and smiled at the stunned woman. “And you have your friends, too. They’re all counting on you in more ways than you could possibly know. It’s time to let me go, my love. You have a life here among the living. Live it, and go be the great man I know you to be.”
The others had grouped together outside the magickal barrier and looked on in wonder. There was not a dry eye present while they watched the impossible unfold in front of them. It was with bated breath that they continued silently praying to Akatosh in reverence for his timely action, and they hoped beyond hope that Anska would give Cain the closure he needed.
Even Gwyn was in awe of Anska’s abrupt arrival, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. The tall Nord woman was far more beautiful than she expected, but also exuded an endearing kindness that was almost alien to her. In those moments, she finally understood what drove Cain’s unwavering desire and loyalty.
“Anska, I… I’m sorry,” Cain felt the connection to Gwyn’s spell unraveling. The runes and dragon etchings surround them began to dim and the aperture between them started to shrink.
“Don’t be. I gave my life to save those in need, and given a second chance, I would not hesitate to do so again. I’ll always love you, lunkhead. But those who came here to help you, and those who came here to stop you have one thing in common: they need you. The real you. Be the big brother your sisters need, and the son your parents long for. And be the unwavering rock your friends need.”
She kissed Cain on the forehead and together they rose to their feet. The spell severed and the temporal energy around them faded while they embraced one last time beneath clearing skies and bright sunlight.
They separated after a few moments and Anska smiled sadly at him. “Shor is calling me home now. Goodbye, my love,” whispered Anska. “And promise me you will move on.”
Cain held her hands tightly and met her gaze. “I promise.”
Anska nodded and pulled her hands free of his grasp, waving at her family watching nearby in amazement. “I love you all, and I always will,” she called to them. Gwyn stood awkwardly a few feet away from them and tried without success to not be noticed. “I wish we had been able to meet in a different life, Miss Louvain,” Anska smiled at her. “Take care of him, yeah?”
She caressed Cain’s cheek a final time and then disappeared in another blinding flash of whitest light.
“…you want to do what?” asked Cain. “How in the hell would that even work?”
Gwyn sensed the hesitation in his voice but she also noticed the flicker of hope behind his eyes. No going back now, I guess. Why do I keep doing this to myself? She flicked a loose strand of hair away from her eye and tucked it behind an ear in an effort to hide the mistiness that had begun while her thoughts momentarily drifted.
She cleared her throat and explained her intentions. “Your dragon blood’s an incredible source of magick and power resting just beneath the surface, and it has a natural connection to what we are dealing with here. I should have seen it sooner, if I’m being honest. You showed me its potential weeks ago when you spoke three simple words and time itself slowed to a crawl. There’s no spell in existence that can do that, Cain. Not even the magick I’ve been practicing has an application like that. I think I can harness it during the ritual to open a rift in time that you’ll be able to navigate. We still don’t know what the end result will be, but it’s the only option left for you.”
Cain froze. He was sure all was lost after last night and somehow the diminutive Breton he’d been sharing his life with recently still continued to surprise him. Words eluded the thankfulness he was feeling towards Gwyn, so he pulled her up from the chair and hugged her instead. The top of her head barely met Cain’s shoulders and she had to stifle a gasp at the sudden embrace. [censored], he even manages to smell nice most of the time.
She pushed him away and feinted disdain while pointing a finger up at his chin. “Too much, don’t ruin it. You can thank me later this morning if it works.”
“You want to try it so soon?”
“No point in waiting.”
-----
The cloudy night sky obscured the bright red and white glows of Masser and Secunda from shining through Linne and Serana’s bedroom window. The couple were lying awake in bed, now late into the night, comforting each other after an ill-fated discussion with their elder brother. While her wife’s revelations with Gwyn turned out to be an interesting surprise and turn of events, Linne had recalled them home feeling more disconnected from Cain than ever.
“Do you think he’s given up on saving her?” asked Serana. Linne’s head rested on her lap as she idly twirled her dark locks of hair. When they got home, she’d been more upset than Serana had seen her in a long time.
“I don’t know,” she sniffled. “I don’t see how he can at this point. One thing is for certain, though… we are going back tomorrow, and I think it’s time our parents came along with us. Kyne, too.”
“Oh, that will be a hoot,” giggled Serana. Linne rolled over and stared up at her with one eyebrow raised. “That was sarcasm, Elle. Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
“Hm. I should have picked up on that. He really did get me twisted up like a pretzel.”
“I don’t think he meant what he said, hon. He loves you very much and I’m sure he already wishes things had gone differently. We’ll find out tomorrow, I promise. And I agree that it’s time for us all to go – even if he doesn’t come home, we might be able to talk him down. This madness has to end. But, let’s get some sleep now and talk about it in the morning, okay?”
With a subtle nod, Linne sat up and pivoted to lay her head on the pillow. She threw and arm over Serana and pulled herself in close, breathing her perfume in deeply and drifting off to a restless slumber.
-----
It was still cloudy later that morning and the smell of rain hung on the air as Kirin stood on the balcony of his study and gazed out over the marshy lowlands of Hjaalmarch. The murky swamps filled with dangerous creatures and dense groves surrounding his home village of Morthal elicited a deep fog that no amount of sunshine ever seemed to burn off. He often took a break from the day-to-day toil of being High King to look down at the gloomy expanse and ruminate on his younger days. And each time he was still amazed at how far he’d risen. And how lucky he was to have a loving and supportive family by his side.
A low murmur of sound drifted through the window to his left and he wondered what the girls would be doing in his study so early in day. He ambled back inside and was alarmed to see not just his daughters, but Lydia and Kyne, as well.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Lydia came to his side and grabbed his hands. “It’s time to go see our son. All of us. Linn has relayed some disturbing information to Kyne and I, and Cain needs us now more than ever.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” admitted Kirin. “What are he and that other woman up to out there?”
“Well, according to Linn and Serana,” Kyne began, “they’ve been messing with Time Magic in a misguided effort to undo Anska’s death and bring her back. I wish my children here would have told me sooner but we still have time to act. They at least were wise enough to deny him use of the Elder Scrolls.”
“How long have you known about this?” Kirin demanded, rounding on his daughters. “And why the hell did you not tell us sooner?!”
“M’sorry, dad,” said Linne. “Our curiosity got the better of us at first, but we did recognize that Cain is taking it too far. It’s been about eleven days since he clued us in and I don’t think he and Gwyn are any closer to actually attempting it. We pretty much trounced their only chance last night by refusing to give them the Scrolls. It, uh, didn’t end well.”
Kirin regarded them angrily for a moment. He couldn’t believe they’d been hiding this from everyone, including their patron goddess. Then he noticed the downcast expression his normally cheerful daughter wore and knew that whatever happened between her and Cain last night was eating away at her and that she needed to see him again soon.
He beckoned her over and offered a comforting hug. “Don’t sweat it, Linn. I know you just wanted to help him. We all do. I take it you and Serana want to leave with haste?”
“Now,” said Lydia. “We need to go now. Salihn is at school and Kyne will meet us there, husband.”
“Very well. Where did you say they are holed up? On the Glenumbra Moors? Always wanted to go see them someday anyway. Take us away, Linn.”
“Ana’s mastered the spell, too. You take her hand and mum can come with me.”
A flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the study and a large brown hawk soared out of the open window and into the grey skies above Tamriel.
-----
The very same skies above Gwyndala Louvain’s meager cabin were abnormally dark. It seemed as if morning had come for only a couple of hours before night charged back in unabated, blanketing the grasslands under an oppressively dour dusk. Inside her home, all was still. The beds were empty and the fire in the hearth had burned down to a smoldering pile of ash.
Cain and Gwyn sat outside on the ground, directly in the center of the largest ritual circle they had made thus far. The chronomantic runes Gwyn had studied for weeks were painted all around them, interspersed with relevant clawed markings of the Dragon tongue that Cain had etched out. They sat facing each other with their eyes closed in concentration.
Gwyn’s heart pounded against the inside of her chest in fear of what was to come. She’d chosen this path to help her friend even though it meant throwing away any chance at becoming something more than that. Opening her eyes, she saw the relaxed look on Cain’s face and decided it was time to stuff her feelings down for good and begin the spell. Blue magick flickered into life on her palms and flowed outward, feeding the various runes around them until they all glowed with the same energy.
Once the runes were fully primed, a web of magick expanded out in a sphere that perfectly encompassed the circle of cleared, bare earth. Mystical threads wove carelessly throughout the time barrier in a dazzling array of pulsating white lights. Occasionally, they would intersect to form one of the time runes or a Word of Power, and the resulting burst of magicka fed the ritual and increased the potency of Gwyn’s fervent spell casting.
Cain finally opened his eyes and the sight took his breath away. The barrier around them had grown more and more dense as it mirrored the markings on the ground until finally they began to feed off one another in a crisscrossing pattern enveloping the air within it.
“I’m ready if you are,” stated Gwyn. “All of my spells are charged and I can direct the energies through you like a conduit. If this works, a portal should slowly begin to form between us.”
“Do it,” said Cain. He couldn’t believe this was finally happening. In a matter of minutes, he would see her again. The thought of it filled him with a palpable excitement that pushed everything else out of his mind. Nothing mattered beyond holding Anska in his arms once again.
Gwyn sighed and focused the magick towards Cain, and three things happened near simultaneously. The swirling blue and white energy collapsed inward and fused itself with Cain’s dragon spirit; a large brown hawk fluttered down from the still darkening sky; and following a flash of purple light, four figures appeared out of thin air.
Hell broke loose all at once.
“NO!” Kyne’s divine voice rang out loudest of all, drowning out the shocked cries of Cain’s family. “YOU MUST STOP THIS AT ONCE! GWYNDALA! CAIN! I BEG OF YOU TO STOP BEFORE YOU DESTROY US ALL!”
“No no no no, don’t do this!” pleaded Linne, rushing up to the barrier. “Brother, I’m sorry we couldn’t help you but this is so much worse than using the Elder Scrolls! Mum is right, you have to end this! Please!”
Cain lowered his head in an effort to ignore them. The arrival of his entire family and Kyne herself was not something neither he nor Gwyn had anticipated and would only distract them from an already dangerous attempt at manipulating time and reality. Funnily enough, he’d thought they had more time.
“Should we continue?” whispered Gwyn. “What if Kyne can breach the circle?”
“She can’t,” promised Cain. “Time isn’t under her domain. Only Akatosh can intervene in this, and he doesn’t involve himself in mortal affairs. Keep going, Gwyn – I can feel the aperture beginning to form. The energy flowing through me is… intense. I need to concentrate.”
It took all of his strength to channel the flow of power safely through him, and he sensed that a large enough interruption would not only sever the link, but it would also endanger his life. Cain closed his eyes and breathed deeply while more voices tried to reason with them.
Kirin and Lydia had recovered from their initial shock and stood hand in hand at the edge of the time barrier. And his father spoke softly to him: “Cain, you must know this won’t work. Death cannot be undone and Anska has gone on to Sovngarde. She died a warrior’s death and will be honored in Shor’s Hall for eternity. We should honor her memory in life and leave her at rest until the day we join her ourselves. Let her go, my son… it’s the only way forward.”
“We know how much you loved her,” said Lydia. “We know how much she meant to you, and how you longed to marry her, and how you longed to raise your child with her. She was taken from us too soon, but that doesn’t mean you have to throw everything else away, Cain! Please, end this before you lose us all! And before you lose yourselves!”
Gwyn was watching her friend closely. He remained stoic in his concentration even as tears had begun to pour down her own cheeks from the remarks of those who loved him. She’d never had family like this other than Aunt Marcie and she was amazed at Cain’s ability to remain composed in light of their desperate pleas. But his concentration didn’t waver in the face of their goal and the tunnel they were tearing through time began to expand.
Serana left Kyne’s side and circled around until she was closer to the still mysterious Breton, and out of Cain’s earshot. “Gwyn you can stop this right? You have to know this only ends terribly for you. One way or another, you are going to lose him by going through with this.” She hoped that appealing to her infatuation with Cain would be enough. That it could sway her from continuing the spell. “At least if you stop now, you’ll still have him.”
Gwyn sniffled and shook her head to clear the moisture from her eyes. “No. It was a nice attempt, girl, but if this means he’ll be happy than that’s what I will give him. He deserves it far more than I do. No one will miss me if I’m gone…”
A multitude of overlapping voices continued to bombard Cain and Gwyn while they worked, and while the time vortex widened further and further. Cain struggled to drown them out while he focused on keeping the bridge between his soul and Gwyn’s magick stable. The effort was taxing all his strength and he knew that the slightest slip would undo the ritual entirely.
He heard the voices trail off for a few seconds until one of them approached the barrier’s edge directly and addressed him in a soft, kind voice. “Cain, please don’t do this,” said the goddess, her voice just audible enough for him to hear it. “Anska wouldn’t want you attempt something so dangerous and you know it. She’d want you to let go of her. You still have us, and you’ve even made a new friend in Gwyn. She’s willing to sacrifice it all for you, but are you really willing to do the same? Does she deserve that? Please, Cain… please end this.”
Tears started to drip from his eyes and splatter into the dirt at his knees. It didn’t mater what she said. What anyone of them said. They were so close he could taste it. After ten months apart, and months of work with Gwyn leading to this point, he was almost there. Another few minutes and the portal would be wide enough for him to step through.
“I’m sorry, mum,” he shook his head. “I need this more than any of you could possibly understand.”
The goddess stepped back and ushered the others to her side. “There is only one thing left I can do, if they won’t see reason. Spread out around the circle and kneel in wait, my children. We are going to appeal to Akatosh himself and I will lead the prayer.”
Kirin, Lydia, Linne, Serana, and Kyne moved apart until they were evenly spaced around the temporal barrier and knelt down with their eyes closed, arms raised to the blackened heavens. Gwyn had noticed them beginning to fan out and something about the look of certainty in Kyne’s face made her worry.
“Cain, I think they’re about to try something. Are you sure this will hold?”
“Yes. Only –“
“Lord Akatosh!” Kyne’s voice rang out clear, and far louder than any mortal could achieve. “We call for your aid in our team of need!”
“Oh no,” exclaimed Gwyn. “Damn it, Cain what if he does something? We’re making progress but it’s not big enough yet!”
“Just keep going.”
Kyne had continued the intonement while they spoke, but in this instance the Divine knew that brevity was more crucial than appeasement to the Lord of Time. The prayer was short and ended thusly: “Please end this incursion, this warping of Time as only you can!”
An eerie silence fell on the Glenumbra Moors. Cain’s family opened their eyes and gazed hopefully around for a sign that their prayers were heard. Gwyn, too, looked about frantically while Cain himself remained focused and attentive.
Without warning, a blinding white flash illuminated the dark morning, forcing everyone to shield their eyes against it. After a second or two, Gwyn felt the sudden brightness fade, and she opened her eyes with a gasp of shock that finally swayed Cain’s intense commitment to the spell.
Anska stood before him in the ritual circle, still adorned in her heavy armor with her favorite war axe hanging from a loop on her belt. Her long blonde hair fell beyond her lower back, braided in one long twist, and her warm brown eyes bore a sadness while she looked down upon her wayward fianc. A delicate golden aura of otherworldly power and beauty emanated from her ethereal form as she knelt down in front of Cain.
“Hello, my love,” she spoke softly to him.
“How –,“ began Cain, tears flowing unchecked at her sudden appearance.
“My lord Shor has granted this favor to Akatosh,” she explained. “I’ve been told of your plight, dear heart. Of your unwavering desire to save me. Of the pain and torment you have been dealing with since I was called to Sovngarde.” Anska took his hands in her own and stared calmly into his eyes. “And of what you’re attempting now. It won’t work, Cain. You’ll bring ruin to all those that you love.”
“I… I can’t stop,” cried Cain. “It’s been so hard without you. I lost everything I’d ever wanted when you died. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lay down and die with you, and with our unborn child. The silence in my head was deafening. It’s still deafening.”
“I understand, Cain. I do. But fate works in mysterious ways, and our love was always destined to be cut short. We made the most of the time we had, and for that we should be grateful. I’ll treasure it for eternity, but that’s a luxury that only I have.” She lifted a hand and brushed the tears away from his eyes. “You’re still alive. You have Kirin and Lydia, and you have Linne and Serana. I know how much they mean to you, and how much they love you.” Anska glanced behind her at Gwyn and smiled at the stunned woman. “And you have your friends, too. They’re all counting on you in more ways than you could possibly know. It’s time to let me go, my love. You have a life here among the living. Live it, and go be the great man I know you to be.”
The others had grouped together outside the magickal barrier and looked on in wonder. There was not a dry eye present while they watched the impossible unfold in front of them. It was with bated breath that they continued silently praying to Akatosh in reverence for his timely action, and they hoped beyond hope that Anska would give Cain the closure he needed.
Even Gwyn was in awe of Anska’s abrupt arrival, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. The tall Nord woman was far more beautiful than she expected, but also exuded an endearing kindness that was almost alien to her. In those moments, she finally understood what drove Cain’s unwavering desire and loyalty.
“Anska, I… I’m sorry,” Cain felt the connection to Gwyn’s spell unraveling. The runes and dragon etchings surround them began to dim and the aperture between them started to shrink.
“Don’t be. I gave my life to save those in need, and given a second chance, I would not hesitate to do so again. I’ll always love you, lunkhead. But those who came here to help you, and those who came here to stop you have one thing in common: they need you. The real you. Be the big brother your sisters need, and the son your parents long for. And be the unwavering rock your friends need.”
She kissed Cain on the forehead and together they rose to their feet. The spell severed and the temporal energy around them faded while they embraced one last time beneath clearing skies and bright sunlight.
They separated after a few moments and Anska smiled sadly at him. “Shor is calling me home now. Goodbye, my love,” whispered Anska. “And promise me you will move on.”
Cain held her hands tightly and met her gaze. “I promise.”
Anska nodded and pulled her hands free of his grasp, waving at her family watching nearby in amazement. “I love you all, and I always will,” she called to them. Gwyn stood awkwardly a few feet away from them and tried without success to not be noticed. “I wish we had been able to meet in a different life, Miss Louvain,” Anska smiled at her. “Take care of him, yeah?”
She caressed Cain’s cheek a final time and then disappeared in another blinding flash of whitest light.
What a beautiful episode! The care you put into the details of the spell Cain and Gwyn were attempting was wonderful.
Those who love Cain surrounded him and Gwyn, but predictably for nought. There is only one who could dissuade him from his course and, thankfully, Akatosh is wise enough to know that. Only Anska could set him free and, with a bit of help from Cain’s family and a pair of Divines, she did exactly that. Again, beautifully done.
I’m so glad that before she departed, Anska gave her blessing to Cain + Gwyn. The little Breton was willing to forego her future and even her life to help Cain. Cain is going to owe her big time!
Those who love Cain surrounded him and Gwyn, but predictably for nought. There is only one who could dissuade him from his course and, thankfully, Akatosh is wise enough to know that. Only Anska could set him free and, with a bit of help from Cain’s family and a pair of Divines, she did exactly that. Again, beautifully done.
I’m so glad that before she departed, Anska gave her blessing to Cain + Gwyn. The little Breton was willing to forego her future and even her life to help Cain. Cain is going to owe her big time!
It's fun working with magic that we don't get to see in-game, kinda like a blank canvas. Mixing in the dragon language characters was a last minute inspiration to put a different spin on it.
I, uh, must have been writing that part in the kitchen. Yes, that's it. My wife must have been chopping some onions nearby at the time. Anska's return was long overdue by that point.
Might take a while for them to get there, but I'm sure Gwyn is over the moon after that interaction. The question will be whether or not she decides to show that.
I, uh, must have been writing that part in the kitchen. Yes, that's it. My wife must have been chopping some onions nearby at the time. Anska's return was long overdue by that point.
Might take a while for them to get there, but I'm sure Gwyn is over the moon after that interaction. The question will be whether or not she decides to show that.
Chapter XLIV �" Letting Go
A soft summer breeze rustled through the moor with a gentle touch that sent the tall grasses and vibrant wildflowers aflutter. With a calamity averted, wildlife came to ground and birdsong began anew, ringing, tweeting, and hooting aloud for all to hear. Outside of Gwyn’s cabin Cain stood in a daze, partially unable to believe what he’d just experienced. The scent of his late fiancé hung in the air for a split second until the wind caromed it away, leaving just the memories. And for the first time in ten months, Cain found those to be enough.
Timid footsteps approached from behind and he felt a small hand rest on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” asked Gwyndala. “That was… I don’t even know where to begin…”
“No, I’m not okay,” replied Cain and turning to look at her with a weak smile. “But I think I will be in time. I’m glad you got to meet her, Gwyn. She truly was an extraordinary person. Still is, I guess. Even in death.”
More footsteps hurried over. Gwyn ducked away to her porch while Cain’s family peppered him with a thousand questions and took turns hugging him with teary eyes. This went on for nearly ten minutes until Serana broke away from the group and asked Gwyn if she could sit on the steps with her. The Breton shrugged and gestured vaguely at the space next to her.
“Since Cain’s a little tied up, I thought I’d check in with you. How are you doing, Gwyn? No ill effects from those spells? That was an impressively masterful use of the arcane you nearly pulled off.”
“I’m fine,” said Gwyn.
Serana rolled her eyes and tutted jokingly. “It’s okay to let your guard down once in a while, you know. I’ve seen how loyal and protective of you Cain is. My brother wouldn’t allow us to be here if he didn’t trust us implicitly.”
Gwyn didn’t say anything. She already knew all of that but felt it unfair of Serana to think she would just pour her heart out simply because they had someone in common. Then a tiny voice of reason crept into her thoughts. She’s not asking for your life story. She just wants to show that she cares.
“Yeah, I guess you have a point. I really am okay. Things turned out better than I could have ever imagined. Feel up for a celebratory drink? I still have some of that brandy in there.”
“It’s only half past nine in the morning.”
“This is a judgement-free sort of place, Serana. Do you want the [censored] drink or not?”
“Oh, remembered my name, have we?” teased Serana. “And yes, I’d love a drink. Divines know we all could use one after these last few days.”
A few seconds after Gwyn disappeared into the confines of her tiny home, Serana noticed that Cain and Linneá had broken away from the others and were walking off into the tall grasses, deep in conversation while their parents and Kyne milled about awkwardly.
We’ll be back shortly, dear, came Linneá’s gentle thought. See if you can wrangle the folks, will you? They’re worried about intruding on Gwyn’s life.
“Are you sure they’ll be okay?” asked Cain. “They seem a little, I don’t know �" nervous? She doesn’t bite.”
“Gwyn’s not exactly sociable, brother. Ana can handle it, though. She’s determined to cut through that hard shell for some reason. Something about your friend has piqued her curiosity.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Cain admitted. “They have more in common than you know.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“That’s for Gwyn to share, and only Gwyn. I’ve probably said too much already.”
They walked a good way off until Cain felt they were far enough away to not be overheard. He was still thoroughly embarrassed by the hurtful remarks he’d made to Linneá the night before, but now that they stood alone and across from each, he struggled to find the words to say. It also didn’t help that Cain’s mind was still racing from what he’d just experienced.
Linneá understood anyway, and she pulled him in to her embrace. “It’s alright, Cain. I forgive you. I can only imagine how stressed out and angry you were last night. None of us realized how much you were still struggling with her loss �" even Kyne thought you were on the mend. We should have done more to help you sooner.”
“How could you have when I tried my damnedest to stay away? Don’t feel too sorry for me, Linn. I couldn’t even help myself.”
“Loss isn’t easy for anyone. I’m just glad you found Gwyn and developed whatever weird bond it is that you have with her. Things could have turned out much worse if you had truly gone it alone.” Linneá took a deep breath and then asked him something that had been on her mind for a while now. “What is it with the two of you anyway? She was willing to throw her entire life away for you this morning, Cain. An act of sacrifice like that goes well beyond friendship…”
“Gwyn’s a complicated woman, and she’s had a hard life, Linn. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Linneá giggled and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Okay, sure. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Cain, indignantly.
“Nothing at all, brother. C’mon, let’s get back and make sure they aren’t at each other’s throats.”
There was, in fact, little of note going on when they returned to Gwyn’s cabin. Kyne had summoned a table large enough for all of them out front, and they sat in isolated groups. Serana seemed to be the lynchpin and was sharing the bottle of brandy with Gwyn, and talking to the others while Kirin and Lydia sipped from steaming mugs of coffee.
Cain sat down next to the tiny Breton and gave her hand a squeeze. Gwyn’s stomach did a somersault but, on the outside, she managed to keep a somewhat neutral demeanor and raise an eyebrow at him.
“I owe you so much. We’ll talk more about it later.”
She flashed him a rare smile and this time was unable to hide the new light in her eyes. Cain caught it just before she turned away but his attention was pulled elsewhere by a sharp noise that kept him from focusing on it.
“Ahem,” Kirin cleared his throat and looked around at all of them. “I know the day is young, but it feels long enough already. We need to get back home in time for the court to open, so I don’t think we should linger here much longer. Ms. Louvain was kind enough to let us stay this long already, and �"“
A snorting sound from the far end of the table cut off his remarks. Cain sighed and lifted a hand to his mouth to stifle the laughter from tumbling out.
“Er, is there something wrong, Ms. Louvain?” continued Kirin.
“Gwyn is fine,” she answered. “And you’re the High [censored] King of Skyrim. I can be a bitch at the best of times, but I’m cultured enough to know its poor manners to invite you to piss off. You and your wife are welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Uh, within reason, of course.”
“Oh, dear,” said Lydia.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Mrs. Windborne,” Gwyn retorted. “This isn’t the Blue Palace, it’s a piece of [censored] hovel with an earthen floor. I know you’ve only been royalty for a few years, so please just be yourselves.”
Linneá, Serana, and even Kyne had joined Cain in barely suppressing their laughter at the tiny, yet fearless woman. Despite her eagerness to get that part out of the way, Gwyn sat back and worried she’d gone too far and had disrespected Cain’s parents. That would be a rocky start to recover from. To her delight, they both laughed aloud at her brash directness and dropped the airs.
“Good enough for me, Gwyn,” chuckled Kirin. “We really do need to be getting back, though. I’m not even sure who the college is loaning us today for our court wizard.”
“There’s one more thing I’d like to do first,” piped up Cain. “With all of you,” he added.
“What is it, dear?” asked Kyne.
“I’d rather just show you, if that’s okay.” He got up and moved away from the table. “Come join me and I’ll whisk us all away at once.” Cain’s entire family circled around him with Gwyn at his side. They joined hands and he wasted no time in casting the recall spell.
They reappeared hundreds of miles to the southeast, standing atop a steep cliff looming over the Abecean Sea. Cain knelt down and used his dagger to chop away the overgrown grasses to reveal the grave markers he’d lain down over the last two years. One for his mother, Ariessa Janeel, and one for his fiancé, Anska of Stonehills.
“Oh, Cain…” came a soft voice from behind him. “I’d always wondered where…”
Gwyn laid a hand on Linneá’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best not to say anything,” she offered, gently.
Linneá swallowed hard and fished around for her wife’s hand instead, gripping it tightly in her own. To their left, Kirin was comforting Lydia and Kyne who were dabbing at their eyes with kerchiefs. Standing firmly by her friend’s side, Gwyndala watched Cain rest a hand on both markers for a few moments. Then he slipped Anska’s engagement ring from his pocket and laid it on her tombstone.
“I’ll always remember what we had. Always.”
He brushed the tears away from his eyes and stood back up. Gwyn led him gently away so that the others could pay their respects, and sat down with him on a nearby rock.
“You chose a wonderful final resting place for them, Cain,” soothed Gwyn. “The view from here is truly special.” She eyed him closely and could not believe the shift in his spirit from early this morning. It felt like a completely different man was sitting next to her, in all of the best possible ways. The grief was still present, but he seemed to finally be at peace with himself.
“They deserve it,” he said to her. “Remarkable women, the both of them.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Gwyn gritted her teeth and steeled herself for the answer to the question she was dreading to ask him. It couldn’t be put off anymore, though, and she picked at her fingernails while probing nonchalantly. “So, will you be going home now? With your family? I’m sure they’re eager to put all of this behind them.”
Cain watched his family take turns kneeling in front of the gravestones, wondering what they’d think of his decision on that matter. He’d given that question a lot of thought over the last hour or two, and the answer was never in doubt.
“No. At least, not yet. You and I still have work to do.”
Gwyn hid her smile and did her best to seem only slightly interested. “Work? Like what?”
“I’d like to get rid of all those books on time magic. Not like I was ever going to learn it, and you’ve already mastered the contents, so they need to go. Even if it’s only to keep anyone else from stumbling onto such a trove. After that… I don’t know. S’pose I need to find a way to thank you for sticking by my side through all of this. And for how much you were willing to give up. That was never fair of me to ask and I can’t believe you indulged such selfishness. I’ll never figure you out, Gwyndala Louvain. Never.”
“I wouldn’t say never,” Gwyn smirked. “You already know more about me than anyone ever has. There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.”
They looked back over at his family together and saw that Kyne was the last to take a knee in the tall grasses. Linneá and Serana were standing off to the side, watching the two friends sitting on their stone perch. The knowing smiles they shot at Gwyn were so smug she could have smacked them both. Then the goddess waved her hand over the graves, blanketing them with an elegant golden light while she rose to her feet and turned to beckon them over.
“Thank you for bringing us here, my child. For finally letting us grieve with you. And for taking such a monumental step in moving on.” She hugged him tightly for a moment and then gestured at the headstones once again. “I used a little divine magick to preserve them forever. The grass will never obscure them, nor will the sun ever fade them. No mortal will be able to remove them, and the ring will never leave that spot.”
Cain thanked her profusely and offered a hug of his own that she gladly accepted.
“I must go for now,” said Kyne. “But I’ll come see you again soon, okay?” She bade goodbye to the rest of them and soared off into the clear blue skies.
Kirin and Lydia approached him next and Cain knew exactly what was coming, so he headed them off. “Not just yet,” he said. “I promise I’ll be home before long, but not just yet. Gwyn and I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“We knew you’d say that, hon,” acknowledged Lydia. “We’ll be there when you are ready.”
“It won’t be too long, and I’ll make sure I stop by for dinner now and then.”
“I’ll hold you to that, son,” said Kirin. “I beg you not take another ten months, though. I’ve got big plans for you.”
More goodbyes followed, and then Cain’s parents retreated back a little bit to allow Linneá and Serana a few moments with him. They promised to stop in when they could, but first made sure to check if that was okay with Gwyn. She nodded and warned them not too early in the morning, or they would be unceremoniously thrown out.
Soon enough, it was just Cain and Gwyndala standing alone by the two graves. She had let his family pay their respects first, and now took the time to do so herself. After a moment of silence, Gwyn rose to her feet, placed her hand in Cain’s, and together they recalled back to her home on the Glenumbra Moors.
A soft summer breeze rustled through the moor with a gentle touch that sent the tall grasses and vibrant wildflowers aflutter. With a calamity averted, wildlife came to ground and birdsong began anew, ringing, tweeting, and hooting aloud for all to hear. Outside of Gwyn’s cabin Cain stood in a daze, partially unable to believe what he’d just experienced. The scent of his late fiancé hung in the air for a split second until the wind caromed it away, leaving just the memories. And for the first time in ten months, Cain found those to be enough.
Timid footsteps approached from behind and he felt a small hand rest on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” asked Gwyndala. “That was… I don’t even know where to begin…”
“No, I’m not okay,” replied Cain and turning to look at her with a weak smile. “But I think I will be in time. I’m glad you got to meet her, Gwyn. She truly was an extraordinary person. Still is, I guess. Even in death.”
More footsteps hurried over. Gwyn ducked away to her porch while Cain’s family peppered him with a thousand questions and took turns hugging him with teary eyes. This went on for nearly ten minutes until Serana broke away from the group and asked Gwyn if she could sit on the steps with her. The Breton shrugged and gestured vaguely at the space next to her.
“Since Cain’s a little tied up, I thought I’d check in with you. How are you doing, Gwyn? No ill effects from those spells? That was an impressively masterful use of the arcane you nearly pulled off.”
“I’m fine,” said Gwyn.
Serana rolled her eyes and tutted jokingly. “It’s okay to let your guard down once in a while, you know. I’ve seen how loyal and protective of you Cain is. My brother wouldn’t allow us to be here if he didn’t trust us implicitly.”
Gwyn didn’t say anything. She already knew all of that but felt it unfair of Serana to think she would just pour her heart out simply because they had someone in common. Then a tiny voice of reason crept into her thoughts. She’s not asking for your life story. She just wants to show that she cares.
“Yeah, I guess you have a point. I really am okay. Things turned out better than I could have ever imagined. Feel up for a celebratory drink? I still have some of that brandy in there.”
“It’s only half past nine in the morning.”
“This is a judgement-free sort of place, Serana. Do you want the [censored] drink or not?”
“Oh, remembered my name, have we?” teased Serana. “And yes, I’d love a drink. Divines know we all could use one after these last few days.”
A few seconds after Gwyn disappeared into the confines of her tiny home, Serana noticed that Cain and Linneá had broken away from the others and were walking off into the tall grasses, deep in conversation while their parents and Kyne milled about awkwardly.
We’ll be back shortly, dear, came Linneá’s gentle thought. See if you can wrangle the folks, will you? They’re worried about intruding on Gwyn’s life.
“Are you sure they’ll be okay?” asked Cain. “They seem a little, I don’t know �" nervous? She doesn’t bite.”
“Gwyn’s not exactly sociable, brother. Ana can handle it, though. She’s determined to cut through that hard shell for some reason. Something about your friend has piqued her curiosity.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Cain admitted. “They have more in common than you know.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“That’s for Gwyn to share, and only Gwyn. I’ve probably said too much already.”
They walked a good way off until Cain felt they were far enough away to not be overheard. He was still thoroughly embarrassed by the hurtful remarks he’d made to Linneá the night before, but now that they stood alone and across from each, he struggled to find the words to say. It also didn’t help that Cain’s mind was still racing from what he’d just experienced.
Linneá understood anyway, and she pulled him in to her embrace. “It’s alright, Cain. I forgive you. I can only imagine how stressed out and angry you were last night. None of us realized how much you were still struggling with her loss �" even Kyne thought you were on the mend. We should have done more to help you sooner.”
“How could you have when I tried my damnedest to stay away? Don’t feel too sorry for me, Linn. I couldn’t even help myself.”
“Loss isn’t easy for anyone. I’m just glad you found Gwyn and developed whatever weird bond it is that you have with her. Things could have turned out much worse if you had truly gone it alone.” Linneá took a deep breath and then asked him something that had been on her mind for a while now. “What is it with the two of you anyway? She was willing to throw her entire life away for you this morning, Cain. An act of sacrifice like that goes well beyond friendship…”
“Gwyn’s a complicated woman, and she’s had a hard life, Linn. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Linneá giggled and punched him playfully on the shoulder. “Okay, sure. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Cain, indignantly.
“Nothing at all, brother. C’mon, let’s get back and make sure they aren’t at each other’s throats.”
There was, in fact, little of note going on when they returned to Gwyn’s cabin. Kyne had summoned a table large enough for all of them out front, and they sat in isolated groups. Serana seemed to be the lynchpin and was sharing the bottle of brandy with Gwyn, and talking to the others while Kirin and Lydia sipped from steaming mugs of coffee.
Cain sat down next to the tiny Breton and gave her hand a squeeze. Gwyn’s stomach did a somersault but, on the outside, she managed to keep a somewhat neutral demeanor and raise an eyebrow at him.
“I owe you so much. We’ll talk more about it later.”
She flashed him a rare smile and this time was unable to hide the new light in her eyes. Cain caught it just before she turned away but his attention was pulled elsewhere by a sharp noise that kept him from focusing on it.
“Ahem,” Kirin cleared his throat and looked around at all of them. “I know the day is young, but it feels long enough already. We need to get back home in time for the court to open, so I don’t think we should linger here much longer. Ms. Louvain was kind enough to let us stay this long already, and �"“
A snorting sound from the far end of the table cut off his remarks. Cain sighed and lifted a hand to his mouth to stifle the laughter from tumbling out.
“Er, is there something wrong, Ms. Louvain?” continued Kirin.
“Gwyn is fine,” she answered. “And you’re the High [censored] King of Skyrim. I can be a bitch at the best of times, but I’m cultured enough to know its poor manners to invite you to piss off. You and your wife are welcome to stay as long as you’d like. Uh, within reason, of course.”
“Oh, dear,” said Lydia.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Mrs. Windborne,” Gwyn retorted. “This isn’t the Blue Palace, it’s a piece of [censored] hovel with an earthen floor. I know you’ve only been royalty for a few years, so please just be yourselves.”
Linneá, Serana, and even Kyne had joined Cain in barely suppressing their laughter at the tiny, yet fearless woman. Despite her eagerness to get that part out of the way, Gwyn sat back and worried she’d gone too far and had disrespected Cain’s parents. That would be a rocky start to recover from. To her delight, they both laughed aloud at her brash directness and dropped the airs.
“Good enough for me, Gwyn,” chuckled Kirin. “We really do need to be getting back, though. I’m not even sure who the college is loaning us today for our court wizard.”
“There’s one more thing I’d like to do first,” piped up Cain. “With all of you,” he added.
“What is it, dear?” asked Kyne.
“I’d rather just show you, if that’s okay.” He got up and moved away from the table. “Come join me and I’ll whisk us all away at once.” Cain’s entire family circled around him with Gwyn at his side. They joined hands and he wasted no time in casting the recall spell.
-----
They reappeared hundreds of miles to the southeast, standing atop a steep cliff looming over the Abecean Sea. Cain knelt down and used his dagger to chop away the overgrown grasses to reveal the grave markers he’d lain down over the last two years. One for his mother, Ariessa Janeel, and one for his fiancé, Anska of Stonehills.
“Oh, Cain…” came a soft voice from behind him. “I’d always wondered where…”
Gwyn laid a hand on Linneá’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best not to say anything,” she offered, gently.
Linneá swallowed hard and fished around for her wife’s hand instead, gripping it tightly in her own. To their left, Kirin was comforting Lydia and Kyne who were dabbing at their eyes with kerchiefs. Standing firmly by her friend’s side, Gwyndala watched Cain rest a hand on both markers for a few moments. Then he slipped Anska’s engagement ring from his pocket and laid it on her tombstone.
“I’ll always remember what we had. Always.”
He brushed the tears away from his eyes and stood back up. Gwyn led him gently away so that the others could pay their respects, and sat down with him on a nearby rock.
“You chose a wonderful final resting place for them, Cain,” soothed Gwyn. “The view from here is truly special.” She eyed him closely and could not believe the shift in his spirit from early this morning. It felt like a completely different man was sitting next to her, in all of the best possible ways. The grief was still present, but he seemed to finally be at peace with himself.
“They deserve it,” he said to her. “Remarkable women, the both of them.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Gwyn gritted her teeth and steeled herself for the answer to the question she was dreading to ask him. It couldn’t be put off anymore, though, and she picked at her fingernails while probing nonchalantly. “So, will you be going home now? With your family? I’m sure they’re eager to put all of this behind them.”
Cain watched his family take turns kneeling in front of the gravestones, wondering what they’d think of his decision on that matter. He’d given that question a lot of thought over the last hour or two, and the answer was never in doubt.
“No. At least, not yet. You and I still have work to do.”
Gwyn hid her smile and did her best to seem only slightly interested. “Work? Like what?”
“I’d like to get rid of all those books on time magic. Not like I was ever going to learn it, and you’ve already mastered the contents, so they need to go. Even if it’s only to keep anyone else from stumbling onto such a trove. After that… I don’t know. S’pose I need to find a way to thank you for sticking by my side through all of this. And for how much you were willing to give up. That was never fair of me to ask and I can’t believe you indulged such selfishness. I’ll never figure you out, Gwyndala Louvain. Never.”
“I wouldn’t say never,” Gwyn smirked. “You already know more about me than anyone ever has. There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.”
They looked back over at his family together and saw that Kyne was the last to take a knee in the tall grasses. Linneá and Serana were standing off to the side, watching the two friends sitting on their stone perch. The knowing smiles they shot at Gwyn were so smug she could have smacked them both. Then the goddess waved her hand over the graves, blanketing them with an elegant golden light while she rose to her feet and turned to beckon them over.
“Thank you for bringing us here, my child. For finally letting us grieve with you. And for taking such a monumental step in moving on.” She hugged him tightly for a moment and then gestured at the headstones once again. “I used a little divine magick to preserve them forever. The grass will never obscure them, nor will the sun ever fade them. No mortal will be able to remove them, and the ring will never leave that spot.”
Cain thanked her profusely and offered a hug of his own that she gladly accepted.
“I must go for now,” said Kyne. “But I’ll come see you again soon, okay?” She bade goodbye to the rest of them and soared off into the clear blue skies.
Kirin and Lydia approached him next and Cain knew exactly what was coming, so he headed them off. “Not just yet,” he said. “I promise I’ll be home before long, but not just yet. Gwyn and I have some loose ends to tie up.”
“We knew you’d say that, hon,” acknowledged Lydia. “We’ll be there when you are ready.”
“It won’t be too long, and I’ll make sure I stop by for dinner now and then.”
“I’ll hold you to that, son,” said Kirin. “I beg you not take another ten months, though. I’ve got big plans for you.”
More goodbyes followed, and then Cain’s parents retreated back a little bit to allow Linneá and Serana a few moments with him. They promised to stop in when they could, but first made sure to check if that was okay with Gwyn. She nodded and warned them not too early in the morning, or they would be unceremoniously thrown out.
Soon enough, it was just Cain and Gwyndala standing alone by the two graves. She had let his family pay their respects first, and now took the time to do so herself. After a moment of silence, Gwyn rose to her feet, placed her hand in Cain’s, and together they recalled back to her home on the Glenumbra Moors.
“Gwyn’s a complicated woman,”
- - Now, honestly, is there any other kind?
Linneá had the right of it, highlighting how much Gwyn was willing to sacrifice for Cain.
It looks like Cain has been given another chance at love, and I’m pleased to see signs that he’s wise enough to, in time, take it.
Besides, I already see encouraging signs of Linneá, Serana and Gwyn acting like sisters. The three really do have quite a bit in common when it comes to temperament.
Wonderful touch by Kyne to magically preserve Ariessa and Anska’s gravesites.
- - Now, honestly, is there any other kind?
Linneá had the right of it, highlighting how much Gwyn was willing to sacrifice for Cain.
It looks like Cain has been given another chance at love, and I’m pleased to see signs that he’s wise enough to, in time, take it.
Besides, I already see encouraging signs of Linneá, Serana and Gwyn acting like sisters. The three really do have quite a bit in common when it comes to temperament.
Wonderful touch by Kyne to magically preserve Ariessa and Anska’s gravesites.
Epilogue
(Three months later…)
Lightning bloomed across the cloudy night sky and a fierce eastbound wind rushed across the grasslands, carrying the smell of rain and driving the approaching summer storm ever closer. The light pitter patter of raindrops on the roof of Gwyndala Louvain’s meager cabin indicated it was finally time for her to leave. She slung a small backpack over her shoulder and took one last look around what had been her home for fifteen years. The bookshelves were empty, and most of her clothing and all alchemical ingredients were stowed away in her magickal chest. Only ashes remained on the fireplace hearth, and all of her furniture was stripped bare. Little of her life remained there and that’s how Gwyn preferred it.
Dry-eyed and filled with a steely resolve, she joined Cain outside in the rain.
“Are you sure about this, Gwyn?” the Redguard asked her for what felt like the thousandth time.
“If you ask me that again, I’ll lock you inside there while it happens. Just burn the [censored] thing down so we can get out of here before I’m soaked through.”
“Okay, okay, sheesh. Stand back and cover your ears, alright?”
Gwyn did as he advised and stepped back a few paces with her hands pressed firmly over her ears. Apart from the day he had rescued her from those brigands, Gwyn never actually witnessed Cain use the Thu’um in their time together, and she was dreadfully curious to see what would happen.
YOL-TOOR-SHUL!
The thundering eruption of fire from deep within Cain’s dragon spirit mingled with the sonorous lightning that cascaded across the stormy skies as it swept forth and engulfed the cabin in roiling flames. Had they not cleared the tall grasses from around the home earlier that day, a prairie fire would have spread in every direction.
“Holy [censored], Cain! Do me a favor and don’t ever point those lungs at me like that!”
Cain laughed and then prayed to Kyne, asking the goddess to keep the blazing inferno from spreading. And his Divine matron answered by ushering in a torrential downpour to thoroughly soak the earth.
“Godsdammit!” yelled Gwyn. “So much for not getting sopping wet! Get us the [censored] out of here already!”
The telltale flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the darkness at the edge of the still burning homestead and the two of them vanished from sight. The fact that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning meant that that same small room deep within the Blue Palace where he had first met his family was silent and still when they reappeared in it, dripping rainwater all over the flagged stone floor.
It was a sparsely furnished chamber with a single table at the center and a few chairs spread out against the walls. Tapestries and flags featuring the Windborne family crest adorned the walls, and the oil lamps had all been set so low that they could barely see anything.
“I somehow expected more pomp and flair,” admitted Gwyn, her eyes scanning about the room.
“Skyrim isn’t as lavish as High Rock. Neither is my family, for that matter.” Cain walked cautiously over to the nearest lamp and turned up the flame so that they could at least find the door. “There we go, that’s much better. Fancy a drink or a bite to eat before we turn in? There’s usually plenty of leftovers from the day in the larders.”
“Nah, I’m tired,” yawned Gwyn. “Show me to my bedroom, Mr. Prince.”
“Ugh, don’t start calling me that. You should know by now that I don’t like the pomp and flair either.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to be respectful of your title!” Gwyn widened her eyes in a mocking manner and stared innocently at him. “Does my liege require an apology?”
“Oh, gods. That’s so much worse. Why did I think this would be a good idea...”
“Because you’re stuck with me and you damn well know it. Now, take me to my room before I pass out and you have to carry me.”
Cain shook his head ruefully and led her upstairs to the living quarters. He paused for a split-second outside of what had once been the room he shared with Anska, but didn’t linger. A tide of memories washed over him and Cain smiled inwardly at them while leading Gwyn up another floor to where his new room was located. He pushed open the door of the adjacent room and was pleased to find it was also empty.
“Here you go, madam Louvain. Make yourself at home!”
Gwyn strutted into the medium sized room and nodded appreciatively at the vanity against the far wall, and the adjoining private bathroom. She threw her bag on the floor, sat on the bed, kicked her sodden boots off, and flung them out into the hallway.
“Bad idea,” warned Cain. “If Linn sees those out there in the morning she will not hesitate to barge in here and wake you up.”
“Chuck ‘em back in here and then shut the door. I’m going to bed.”
Cain did as he was asked (told, really) and headed into his own bedroom. Settling in could wait until the morning, so he changed into some dry clothes from his bag and opted to set his own boots out in the hallway with a grin. The bed looked much more inviting than Gwyn’s rough cot he’d been kipping on for the last year and it did not take him long to drift off after snuggling down under the blankets.
-----
Dawn had not yet arrived when the same heavy rains that chased Cain and Gwyn out of High Rock earlier that morning roused him much sooner than he would have liked. He was staring up at the ceiling in anticipation of the busy day ahead when a soft noise caught his attention. Cain rolled over quietly and looked down at the floor to see Gwyn curled up on top of a few pillows against the side of his bed.
Frowning at the sight of her, he slid out of bed, carefully picked up the sleeping woman, and gently laid her onto the mattress. After she was tucked under the warm blankets, Cain took a seat in the chair near the window and pulled out a book to read. Just as expected, the door burst open a little while later and Linneá ran into the bedroom ready to make a fuss until she noticed the tiny Breton sleeping in Cain’s bed.
She backed out of the room and beckoned Cain to follow. Once they were out in the hallway, she shut the door and gave him a curiously apprising look.
“What?” asked Cain. “Oh… Gwyn. Dunno what happened there, sis. I set her up in the room next door and woke up this morning to find her sleeping on the ground next to my bed.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“I’m serious, Linn! Ask her yourself!”
“I’m not going to wake her �"“
She fell silent when the door opened and Gwyn looked up at them crossly. “You two make a lot of [censored] noise, did you know that about yourselves?”
“Well, good morning, Gwynnie!” bubbled Linneá. “Maybe you can clear something up for us!”
Gwyn stepped back and let them into the bedroom. She took a seat at the end of the bed while Cain pulled the chair he’d been using up next to the one Linnná had grabbed. Gwyn folded her arms across her lap and stared pointedly at Linneá.
“First things first; if you ever call me ‘Gwynnie’ again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do,” she glared at her to make sure the message sunk in and was rewarded with a coy smile and a nod. “Excellent. Now that that’s cleared up… what were you two arguing about? And where’s Serana? I’m not accustomed to seeing you two apart.”
“She took Salihn downstairs for breakfast,” said Linneá. “Little tyke has school in about an hour.” Linneá shot a sidelong glance at Cain and then continued. “We weren’t arguing, by the way. I was just, um, curious about something.”
“Don’t beat around the bush. I heard most of what you were saying. Or should I say ‘implying’?”
“Can you blame me?” replied Linneá.
Cain was thoroughly confused by their exchange at this point and had just opened his mouth to chime in when Gwyn cut him off. Then he felt like just letting them go at it while he slinked off to have breakfast with Serana and his niece. But something told him that wouldn’t fly either.
“If you don’t know have all the facts, it’s better to say nothing,” said Gwyn.
“Then enlighten me, please.”
Gwyn blushed for only the second or maybe third time since Cain had known her. It highlighted the little dimples in her cheeks in a way that he found very endearing. She noticed him staring and he tore his eyes away and focused instead on the rain splattering against the window. A slight smile touched her lips and then vanished when she turned back towards Linneá.
“It’s really none of your business, but if it’ll make you drop the subject… it was too quiet in my room. Your brother snores so loudly that I wanted to strangle him the first night I let him sleep in the cabin. I guess I got used to the noise.”
“You should have woken me up,” said Cain. He maintained a calm exterior, but his mind was racing from her admission. “I’d have given you the bed and slept in one of these chairs.”
“I don’t need your charity. Though it was really [censored] cold on the floor and I wasn’t comfortable. At all. Now, Linn, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave so that I can go back to sleep for another hour or two.” Linneá excused her self and Cain made to follow her out until Gwyn addressed him. “Not you, idiot. Go sit back down and read some more. I’ll be up in a little while.”
Linneá chortled as quietly as she could manage and winked at her brother before departing to join her wife and daughter for breakfast. Cain shut the door and slid his chair back over near the window. The first book he’d grab had been a little dry, so he opted for the latest works of Adonato Leotelli instead. But his attention soon wavered and he found himself gazing at the woman sleeping soundly in his bed.
She didn’t feel safe without me around, even if she won’t admit it, Cain observed silently. I wonder when that started?
He noted the way Gwyn had blushed, and then remembered a few other times her toughened façade had slipped. Or the way she sometimes smiled to herself when she thought his attention was elsewhere. And the way Linneá had been subtly teasing them both for the last couple of months. Then her words from that fateful morning above the Abecean Sea echoed back to him: ‘There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.'
Alarm bells rang in his head and he elected to set his book down and leave the room as quickly and quietly as possible. Cain figured that Linneá and Serana ought to still be eating breakfast, so he practically sprinted downstairs to their favorite small dining room.
Along the way he nearly ran right into his father, but Cain pushed passed him with a hasty apology. “Sorry, can’t talk right now, dad!” Moments later her crashed through the dining room door and joined his sisters at the table, huffing and wheezing from the exertion.
“Whoa, take it easy, Cain!” said Serana. “What’s got you so worked up?”
He took several deep breaths, poured himself a glass of water, and took a long drink from it before answering her question with an abrupt one of his own. “How long have you two known?” He paused at the sight of Salihn chowing away on some bacon and got distracted by the little one. “Goodness, you’ve grown so much this year, Salihn!”
The elfling had tacked on a few inches since he’d last seen her and Cain didn’t doubt that one day she would be taller than all of them. Salihn waved delightfully at her uncle but didn’t stop eating the salty breakfast meat and Cain didn’t blame her at all while he helped himself to a piece from Linneá’s plate.
“Anyway… where was I?”
“You were accusing us of knowing something,” Serana reminded him.
“Oh, that’s right,” said Cain. Then he shot an accusatory look at them. “Gwyn… how long have you two known that she, er, fancied me?”
“Ah, finally got there, have you?” laughed Linneá. “Ana figured it out the night you asked us for the Elder Scrolls. Poor Gwyn was already in deep by that point, I think.”
“But that was three months ago! How did I not �"“
“Notice? I think you did, Cain,” said Serana. “I just don’t think you were ready to acknowledge it. And no one blames you for that.”
He leaned forward with his elbows resting on the table and lowered his chin into his open palms. It wasn’t until now that he understood why Gwyn had stayed true to him, but he still couldn’t fathom why she’d gone along with his crazy endeavors.
“I’m such a piece of [censored],” he muttered. “You’re absolutely right about her, and my obsession made me ignorant to the signs. I put Gwyn through hell, didn’t I? The poor girl couldn’t do anything but watch me try to throw it all away and drag her down with me. She never deserved that and she should have dumped my sorry ass long ago. Why in the hell did she not run for the hills?”
Linneá patted him gently on the back. “It was a tough time for you, brother. Don’t keep beating yourself up about it. And as for Gwyn… well, the heart wants what the heart wants. There’s no telling what someone will do in the name of love.”
An uneasy feeling was settling into the pit of Cain’s stomach. He had no idea where to go from here and yet he could not stop thinking about the little dimples in Gwyn’s cheeks when she had blushed earlier. And the way her eyes had lit up after their ill-fated attempt at time travel when Cain had admitted how much he owed her. And those godsdamned dimples.
Next came the guilt, which evidently was written all over his face. The crushing guilt he felt at thinking he could betray Anska’s memory in such a way.
“Don’t do that to yourself, Cain” said Linneá, sharply. “It’s been over a year and we all know that you’re in a better place now. Anska herself told you to let go, and I’ll be damned if she didn’t pick up on how Gwyn felt about you. Did you forget the last thing she said before returning to Sovngarde? To Gwyn, of all people?”
“’Take care of him’,” finished Serana. “No one’s telling you to run off and propose to her, Cain” she continued. “But you’re allowed to be happy, and there isn’t a damn person in this palace that would judge you poorly for that. We just want to see you thriving again.”
Cain chewed absentmindedly on another piece of bacon, and then decided it was time to get back to his room. He poured himself a mug of tea from the urn on the table and excused himself. Linneá and Serana hugged him in turn before he left and said they were glad to finally have him back home. His feet carried him back to the bedroom automatically, and once he got there Cain was relieved to see Gwyn still sound asleep in the bed, snoring ever so slightly.
He sat back down by the window and tried once again to read his book. Moments later he gave it up as a lost cause and tossed it aside. Cain settled back in the chair while the debate continued to rage on inside his head. Was he even ready to move on like that? Could he be happy with someone else? Did Gwyn deserve someone who had been so selfish and nearly taken advantage of her in so terrible of a way?
The last part didn’t matter. She’d already shown her willingness to say by his side, and she harbored no ill will towards him. In fact, they’d grown even closer over the last three months. And it was Gwyn who suggested it was time for him to return home… but only if she came, too.
This went on for another hour until Cain heard a slight yawn and glanced at the bed to see Gwyn sit up and stretch her arms over her head. Her hair was tousled from being pressed against the pillow, and when she saw that Cain was still sitting in the room with her, it changed from a tealish-blue to a shimmering multicolored spectrum that best resembled a vibrant rainbow after a harsh summer storm. She smiled at him in a way that made his stomach lurch, and he knew immediately that it was hopeless.
“I’m starving,” said Gwyn. She got to her feet and grabbed a pair of flats from her bag and then slipped them on. “Do you think we missed breakfast? I swear I could eat an entire �"“
Her unfinished statement hung in the air after Cain leapt up from his chair, crossed the room, and bent down to kiss her.
Gwyn pulled away and stared up at him with a devilish grin. And then she started devouring Cain with her eyes. “It’s about [censored] time.”
(Three months later…)
Lightning bloomed across the cloudy night sky and a fierce eastbound wind rushed across the grasslands, carrying the smell of rain and driving the approaching summer storm ever closer. The light pitter patter of raindrops on the roof of Gwyndala Louvain’s meager cabin indicated it was finally time for her to leave. She slung a small backpack over her shoulder and took one last look around what had been her home for fifteen years. The bookshelves were empty, and most of her clothing and all alchemical ingredients were stowed away in her magickal chest. Only ashes remained on the fireplace hearth, and all of her furniture was stripped bare. Little of her life remained there and that’s how Gwyn preferred it.
Dry-eyed and filled with a steely resolve, she joined Cain outside in the rain.
“Are you sure about this, Gwyn?” the Redguard asked her for what felt like the thousandth time.
“If you ask me that again, I’ll lock you inside there while it happens. Just burn the [censored] thing down so we can get out of here before I’m soaked through.”
“Okay, okay, sheesh. Stand back and cover your ears, alright?”
Gwyn did as he advised and stepped back a few paces with her hands pressed firmly over her ears. Apart from the day he had rescued her from those brigands, Gwyn never actually witnessed Cain use the Thu’um in their time together, and she was dreadfully curious to see what would happen.
YOL-TOOR-SHUL!
The thundering eruption of fire from deep within Cain’s dragon spirit mingled with the sonorous lightning that cascaded across the stormy skies as it swept forth and engulfed the cabin in roiling flames. Had they not cleared the tall grasses from around the home earlier that day, a prairie fire would have spread in every direction.
“Holy [censored], Cain! Do me a favor and don’t ever point those lungs at me like that!”
Cain laughed and then prayed to Kyne, asking the goddess to keep the blazing inferno from spreading. And his Divine matron answered by ushering in a torrential downpour to thoroughly soak the earth.
“Godsdammit!” yelled Gwyn. “So much for not getting sopping wet! Get us the [censored] out of here already!”
The telltale flash of purple and white light briefly illuminated the darkness at the edge of the still burning homestead and the two of them vanished from sight. The fact that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning meant that that same small room deep within the Blue Palace where he had first met his family was silent and still when they reappeared in it, dripping rainwater all over the flagged stone floor.
It was a sparsely furnished chamber with a single table at the center and a few chairs spread out against the walls. Tapestries and flags featuring the Windborne family crest adorned the walls, and the oil lamps had all been set so low that they could barely see anything.
“I somehow expected more pomp and flair,” admitted Gwyn, her eyes scanning about the room.
“Skyrim isn’t as lavish as High Rock. Neither is my family, for that matter.” Cain walked cautiously over to the nearest lamp and turned up the flame so that they could at least find the door. “There we go, that’s much better. Fancy a drink or a bite to eat before we turn in? There’s usually plenty of leftovers from the day in the larders.”
“Nah, I’m tired,” yawned Gwyn. “Show me to my bedroom, Mr. Prince.”
“Ugh, don’t start calling me that. You should know by now that I don’t like the pomp and flair either.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to be respectful of your title!” Gwyn widened her eyes in a mocking manner and stared innocently at him. “Does my liege require an apology?”
“Oh, gods. That’s so much worse. Why did I think this would be a good idea...”
“Because you’re stuck with me and you damn well know it. Now, take me to my room before I pass out and you have to carry me.”
Cain shook his head ruefully and led her upstairs to the living quarters. He paused for a split-second outside of what had once been the room he shared with Anska, but didn’t linger. A tide of memories washed over him and Cain smiled inwardly at them while leading Gwyn up another floor to where his new room was located. He pushed open the door of the adjacent room and was pleased to find it was also empty.
“Here you go, madam Louvain. Make yourself at home!”
Gwyn strutted into the medium sized room and nodded appreciatively at the vanity against the far wall, and the adjoining private bathroom. She threw her bag on the floor, sat on the bed, kicked her sodden boots off, and flung them out into the hallway.
“Bad idea,” warned Cain. “If Linn sees those out there in the morning she will not hesitate to barge in here and wake you up.”
“Chuck ‘em back in here and then shut the door. I’m going to bed.”
Cain did as he was asked (told, really) and headed into his own bedroom. Settling in could wait until the morning, so he changed into some dry clothes from his bag and opted to set his own boots out in the hallway with a grin. The bed looked much more inviting than Gwyn’s rough cot he’d been kipping on for the last year and it did not take him long to drift off after snuggling down under the blankets.
-----
Dawn had not yet arrived when the same heavy rains that chased Cain and Gwyn out of High Rock earlier that morning roused him much sooner than he would have liked. He was staring up at the ceiling in anticipation of the busy day ahead when a soft noise caught his attention. Cain rolled over quietly and looked down at the floor to see Gwyn curled up on top of a few pillows against the side of his bed.
Frowning at the sight of her, he slid out of bed, carefully picked up the sleeping woman, and gently laid her onto the mattress. After she was tucked under the warm blankets, Cain took a seat in the chair near the window and pulled out a book to read. Just as expected, the door burst open a little while later and Linneá ran into the bedroom ready to make a fuss until she noticed the tiny Breton sleeping in Cain’s bed.
She backed out of the room and beckoned Cain to follow. Once they were out in the hallway, she shut the door and gave him a curiously apprising look.
“What?” asked Cain. “Oh… Gwyn. Dunno what happened there, sis. I set her up in the room next door and woke up this morning to find her sleeping on the ground next to my bed.”
“Uh huh. Sure.”
“I’m serious, Linn! Ask her yourself!”
“I’m not going to wake her �"“
She fell silent when the door opened and Gwyn looked up at them crossly. “You two make a lot of [censored] noise, did you know that about yourselves?”
“Well, good morning, Gwynnie!” bubbled Linneá. “Maybe you can clear something up for us!”
Gwyn stepped back and let them into the bedroom. She took a seat at the end of the bed while Cain pulled the chair he’d been using up next to the one Linnná had grabbed. Gwyn folded her arms across her lap and stared pointedly at Linneá.
“First things first; if you ever call me ‘Gwynnie’ again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do,” she glared at her to make sure the message sunk in and was rewarded with a coy smile and a nod. “Excellent. Now that that’s cleared up… what were you two arguing about? And where’s Serana? I’m not accustomed to seeing you two apart.”
“She took Salihn downstairs for breakfast,” said Linneá. “Little tyke has school in about an hour.” Linneá shot a sidelong glance at Cain and then continued. “We weren’t arguing, by the way. I was just, um, curious about something.”
“Don’t beat around the bush. I heard most of what you were saying. Or should I say ‘implying’?”
“Can you blame me?” replied Linneá.
Cain was thoroughly confused by their exchange at this point and had just opened his mouth to chime in when Gwyn cut him off. Then he felt like just letting them go at it while he slinked off to have breakfast with Serana and his niece. But something told him that wouldn’t fly either.
“If you don’t know have all the facts, it’s better to say nothing,” said Gwyn.
“Then enlighten me, please.”
Gwyn blushed for only the second or maybe third time since Cain had known her. It highlighted the little dimples in her cheeks in a way that he found very endearing. She noticed him staring and he tore his eyes away and focused instead on the rain splattering against the window. A slight smile touched her lips and then vanished when she turned back towards Linneá.
“It’s really none of your business, but if it’ll make you drop the subject… it was too quiet in my room. Your brother snores so loudly that I wanted to strangle him the first night I let him sleep in the cabin. I guess I got used to the noise.”
“You should have woken me up,” said Cain. He maintained a calm exterior, but his mind was racing from her admission. “I’d have given you the bed and slept in one of these chairs.”
“I don’t need your charity. Though it was really [censored] cold on the floor and I wasn’t comfortable. At all. Now, Linn, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave so that I can go back to sleep for another hour or two.” Linneá excused her self and Cain made to follow her out until Gwyn addressed him. “Not you, idiot. Go sit back down and read some more. I’ll be up in a little while.”
Linneá chortled as quietly as she could manage and winked at her brother before departing to join her wife and daughter for breakfast. Cain shut the door and slid his chair back over near the window. The first book he’d grab had been a little dry, so he opted for the latest works of Adonato Leotelli instead. But his attention soon wavered and he found himself gazing at the woman sleeping soundly in his bed.
She didn’t feel safe without me around, even if she won’t admit it, Cain observed silently. I wonder when that started?
He noted the way Gwyn had blushed, and then remembered a few other times her toughened façade had slipped. Or the way she sometimes smiled to herself when she thought his attention was elsewhere. And the way Linneá had been subtly teasing them both for the last couple of months. Then her words from that fateful morning above the Abecean Sea echoed back to him: ‘There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.'
Alarm bells rang in his head and he elected to set his book down and leave the room as quickly and quietly as possible. Cain figured that Linneá and Serana ought to still be eating breakfast, so he practically sprinted downstairs to their favorite small dining room.
Along the way he nearly ran right into his father, but Cain pushed passed him with a hasty apology. “Sorry, can’t talk right now, dad!” Moments later her crashed through the dining room door and joined his sisters at the table, huffing and wheezing from the exertion.
“Whoa, take it easy, Cain!” said Serana. “What’s got you so worked up?”
He took several deep breaths, poured himself a glass of water, and took a long drink from it before answering her question with an abrupt one of his own. “How long have you two known?” He paused at the sight of Salihn chowing away on some bacon and got distracted by the little one. “Goodness, you’ve grown so much this year, Salihn!”
The elfling had tacked on a few inches since he’d last seen her and Cain didn’t doubt that one day she would be taller than all of them. Salihn waved delightfully at her uncle but didn’t stop eating the salty breakfast meat and Cain didn’t blame her at all while he helped himself to a piece from Linneá’s plate.
“Anyway… where was I?”
“You were accusing us of knowing something,” Serana reminded him.
“Oh, that’s right,” said Cain. Then he shot an accusatory look at them. “Gwyn… how long have you two known that she, er, fancied me?”
“Ah, finally got there, have you?” laughed Linneá. “Ana figured it out the night you asked us for the Elder Scrolls. Poor Gwyn was already in deep by that point, I think.”
“But that was three months ago! How did I not �"“
“Notice? I think you did, Cain,” said Serana. “I just don’t think you were ready to acknowledge it. And no one blames you for that.”
He leaned forward with his elbows resting on the table and lowered his chin into his open palms. It wasn’t until now that he understood why Gwyn had stayed true to him, but he still couldn’t fathom why she’d gone along with his crazy endeavors.
“I’m such a piece of [censored],” he muttered. “You’re absolutely right about her, and my obsession made me ignorant to the signs. I put Gwyn through hell, didn’t I? The poor girl couldn’t do anything but watch me try to throw it all away and drag her down with me. She never deserved that and she should have dumped my sorry ass long ago. Why in the hell did she not run for the hills?”
Linneá patted him gently on the back. “It was a tough time for you, brother. Don’t keep beating yourself up about it. And as for Gwyn… well, the heart wants what the heart wants. There’s no telling what someone will do in the name of love.”
An uneasy feeling was settling into the pit of Cain’s stomach. He had no idea where to go from here and yet he could not stop thinking about the little dimples in Gwyn’s cheeks when she had blushed earlier. And the way her eyes had lit up after their ill-fated attempt at time travel when Cain had admitted how much he owed her. And those godsdamned dimples.
Next came the guilt, which evidently was written all over his face. The crushing guilt he felt at thinking he could betray Anska’s memory in such a way.
“Don’t do that to yourself, Cain” said Linneá, sharply. “It’s been over a year and we all know that you’re in a better place now. Anska herself told you to let go, and I’ll be damned if she didn’t pick up on how Gwyn felt about you. Did you forget the last thing she said before returning to Sovngarde? To Gwyn, of all people?”
“’Take care of him’,” finished Serana. “No one’s telling you to run off and propose to her, Cain” she continued. “But you’re allowed to be happy, and there isn’t a damn person in this palace that would judge you poorly for that. We just want to see you thriving again.”
Cain chewed absentmindedly on another piece of bacon, and then decided it was time to get back to his room. He poured himself a mug of tea from the urn on the table and excused himself. Linneá and Serana hugged him in turn before he left and said they were glad to finally have him back home. His feet carried him back to the bedroom automatically, and once he got there Cain was relieved to see Gwyn still sound asleep in the bed, snoring ever so slightly.
He sat back down by the window and tried once again to read his book. Moments later he gave it up as a lost cause and tossed it aside. Cain settled back in the chair while the debate continued to rage on inside his head. Was he even ready to move on like that? Could he be happy with someone else? Did Gwyn deserve someone who had been so selfish and nearly taken advantage of her in so terrible of a way?
The last part didn’t matter. She’d already shown her willingness to say by his side, and she harbored no ill will towards him. In fact, they’d grown even closer over the last three months. And it was Gwyn who suggested it was time for him to return home… but only if she came, too.
This went on for another hour until Cain heard a slight yawn and glanced at the bed to see Gwyn sit up and stretch her arms over her head. Her hair was tousled from being pressed against the pillow, and when she saw that Cain was still sitting in the room with her, it changed from a tealish-blue to a shimmering multicolored spectrum that best resembled a vibrant rainbow after a harsh summer storm. She smiled at him in a way that made his stomach lurch, and he knew immediately that it was hopeless.
“I’m starving,” said Gwyn. She got to her feet and grabbed a pair of flats from her bag and then slipped them on. “Do you think we missed breakfast? I swear I could eat an entire �"“
Her unfinished statement hung in the air after Cain leapt up from his chair, crossed the room, and bent down to kiss her.
Gwyn pulled away and stared up at him with a devilish grin. And then she started devouring Cain with her eyes. “It’s about [censored] time.”
Then her words from that fateful morning above the Abecean Sea echoed back to him: ‘There’s just one piece of the puzzle left. In time, you’ll find the place where it fits.
- - Well. It’s about time, Cain!
I loved the banter between Cain and Gwyn. Also between Gwyn and Linneá. Gwyn is more than a match for both her new sisters combined when it comes to being feisty. Gwynnie indeed!
What a wonderful tale! Actually, two love stories in one and you made them both work beautifully.
- - Well. It’s about time, Cain!
I loved the banter between Cain and Gwyn. Also between Gwyn and Linneá. Gwyn is more than a match for both her new sisters combined when it comes to being feisty. Gwynnie indeed!
What a wonderful tale! Actually, two love stories in one and you made them both work beautifully.
He did get there eventually, lol. Moving on is one thing, but letting go is another. Despite the closure Anska gave Cain, he still needed more time to grieve.
Writing Gwyn's sass is immensely enjoyable. Truth be told, I hadn't originally planned on introducing her in this book. But she was living in my head and already decided for herself that it was time.
Thanks for reading along! This was my first attempt at writing something without having a preexisting narrative to follow, and I'm actually quite relieved that I didn't lose steam. The characters ended up being more than enough to develop a story around!
It also ended up being longer than Seeking Solace, which really surprised me. I don't have the exact number on hand, but MS Word has this at over 120,000 words.
Writing Gwyn's sass is immensely enjoyable. Truth be told, I hadn't originally planned on introducing her in this book. But she was living in my head and already decided for herself that it was time.
Thanks for reading along! This was my first attempt at writing something without having a preexisting narrative to follow, and I'm actually quite relieved that I didn't lose steam. The characters ended up being more than enough to develop a story around!
It also ended up being longer than Seeking Solace, which really surprised me. I don't have the exact number on hand, but MS Word has this at over 120,000 words.
Some author's notes, after editing the completed tale:
- I had initially written Anska closer to her in-game self, and given her a proficiency with magic that I forgot all about. This has been adjusted and all references to her combat style involve her favored war axe. Chapter VI in particular is where that's reflected the most, and in future chapters she has a typical Nord apprehensiveness to magic.
- I also tweaked a little bit of detail regarding Cain and Anska's summons by the Ayleid tribe. It occurred to me while editing that I had linked the assassination attempt on Linneá and Serana to the same person who summoned the other two down south. That's a bit contradictory, so for now, Ulvon's Morag Tong contact gave them a name (Lisotel) whose thread hasn't been pulled yet. This occurred in chapter XXI.
- The previous changed also required that Anilay and Mede were not behind the assassination attempt. That slightly altered some dialogue in chapter XXXI.
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