Child (Book 2)

Chapter 7

    It feels like a dream, or a nightmare. I wish every day that it was.
    I gorge myself on the man's heart, another lying dead not far away. I don't know who he is, and I don't care; I hope I forget his face. All that matters is the hunt, the prey. Perhaps I could've had his cow instead, but he got in the way. I lick the blood from my teeth and sniff the air, searching for more. I always crave more, indulging all night until I pass out and wake up hours later, alone and exhausted.
    A familiar scent catches on the wind. Not quite an animal, but not quite human; a scent like damp and dirt. Another wolf? My claws tear at the ground across the plains, aching to find out. I follow the scent into the nearby hills.
    It is indeed another wolf, stumbling for the trees as he nears the end of his bloodlust. I wonder what his heart would taste like.
    He transforms back into a human as he tumbles to the ground. Once I'm certain he's unconscious, I jump down the rocks toward him and roll him over, prepared to dig in. My eyes find his face, focus on a small, vertical scar under his eyebrow. "I recognize him." Something inside screams, although I can't recall his name. "I know him."
    I sniff his neck, ensuring that he's breathing, then back away. "Wait." The voice begs. "Wait for him to wake up."
    I watch him quietly from the cliffs above, even as the idle time eats away at my bloodlust, even as I know the sun will soon rise. Finally he groans and sits up, spitting blood from his mouth. He sniffs the air, and his eyes dart to my hiding place. I jump from the rocks and sprint away; why was I watching him anyway? I hardly remember.
    I wonder who he was.

~

    Before I can even get to Marcurio, he rolls over on his side and vomits blood on the ground.
    "Marc, why didn't you tell me?" I sigh as I look at the puddle of bile and blood next to the healing altar.
    "It all happened so quickly... I felt fine, just an hour before—" he is interrupted by another wave of vomit for me to clean up. I have a pot for him that I usually keep next to the altar, but it had to be emptied sometime.
    "Nova, I'll clean it up, alright? Why don't you go down to Arcadia's for me and pick up a few potions instead?" Danica asks quietly.
    "He's my responsibility, we wouldn't want to be a burden to you—" I begin to argue. I don't have time to say much else, as Danica is pushing me out the door and shoving a bag of coins at me. I'm pushed out the door of the temple and into the streets, standing in the massive shadow of the Gildergreen. I tighten the bright yellow cowl around my face, dusting off the orange robes Danica gave me before I step into the street.
    Marcurio has fallen deathly ill, the cause being a skeever bite he received at the Barrow. After the dragon was killed I had to drag him back to the temple in a fever induced hysteria. I've been hiding in the temple, disguised as a priestess in some borrowed robes from Danica, until Marcurio gets better. In the meantime, Danica has been trying to explain to me what a Dragonborn is and helping me understand my "gift" as she calls it, along with the overwhelming responsibility it carries. She reminds me everyday that soon, I must answer the Greybeards summons, as Talos once did. When I tell her I'd like to make sure Marcurio is okay first, she rolls her eyes.
    I pay Arcadia for the crate of potions and immediately head back to the temple with my head down. Maybe I'm a coward, but I'm still not ready to face the Companions. How will they ever accept that I've been promoted to the Circle when I'm the newest among them? Has Aela blamed me for Skjor's death? No, I need to come back with good news; if I come back at all.
    As I'm exiting the marketplace, I pass two guards on the stairs.
    "Any more dragon sightings lately?"
    "No, not that I've heard. Though, some sort of beast attacked the Lorieus farm last night. Killed the farmer and his wife, and ripped them apart from the sound of it."
    "You think it was the same one from a few weeks ago?"
    "Maybe. The Jarl should hire someone to hunt it down, before it becomes a real problem." I duck my head as I pass them. Could that have been me? I don't want to find out
    "Danica, you have to have some information. She must've said something to you about where she was going." A familiar voice says as I enter the temple with the crate. Vilkas has his back to me, thankfully; Danica gives me a barely-perceptible nod. She doesn't know the specifics of my situation, but she's a loyal friend nonetheless. It certainly doesn't make her like Vilkas very much, and he seems to return the sentiment.
    "I've told you, she brought her friend here then left, and I haven't seen her since. Look someplace else." I duck my head as he sighs and stomps towards the door, walking right past me and into the street.
    "That's the second time he's been here this week. He just doesn't quit." Danica complains.
    "I'm sorry Danica, I didn't think he'd be this persistent." I tell her, rubbing my eyes. She grabs my chin and raises my face to the light, no doubt examining the dark circles around my eyes.
    "How are you feeling?" She asks quietly. I shake my head, my eyes burning with tears.
    "I think I hurt someone last night; I can't remember." I explain, and she frowns. I told her about the beast blood, feeling guilty that she had allowed an unholy creature like myself into her temple; I hoped she might even know how to help me. Unfortunately, she had nothing to offer me but prayer.
    "Kynareth will forgive you, dear." She says, frowning at me.
    "If she will forgive, why will she not heal me?" I ask her. She shakes her head.
    "Sometimes it's out of her hands. Sometimes it's in yours." She says, wiping a tear from my cheek. "Now, go take a break before you run yourself ragged." She insists.
    I set the crate of healing potions down in Danica's study and before I can get a moment to rest, a small, elderly woman bursts through the temple doors with two large men following close behind.
    "Please! Please, you have to help my son!" The woman cries. I recognize her, she works in the market selling jewelry. Behind her is a young man with very light blonde hair, Stormcloak armor, and a deep gash just below his knee that flows with dark blood. Under his arm is Eorlund, who shoves him through the door with no trouble at all. I pull my cowl tightly around my face as soon as I see him, hoping he hasn't already seen me.
    The younger man sits down on the bench and strains as Danica helps him stretch his leg. Eorlund reaches down and touches his shoulder gently.
    "Avulstein, what happened?" He asks quietly.
    "Our entire regiment... They're all gone." He gasps. His mother whimpers and falls into Eorlund's arms.
    "Shh, it's alright dear. What about Thorald?" Eorlund asks, rubbing his wife's back. Avulstein sighs and rubs his eyes.
    "I haven't the slightest clue. Our camp was raided while I was gone, relaying a message to Dawnstar. They left the bodies; I buried all of them. I didn't find Thorald... I would've brought him home." He sighs. His mother whimpers again.
    "He's my brother, and he's not dead. I can feel it. I left the camp, came straight here. Met a few Imperials yesterday, but I swear to you they're in worse shape than I am." He continues. "I need to get a messenger to Windhelm immediately."
    I get started opening the crate of potions and silently push one towards him while I heal his wound and Danica looks for some bandages.
    "Thank you miss." He said politely, and swallowed the whole thing in one short gulp. "You're a healer? I know King Ulfric could use a few of those." He groans. I don't want Eorlund to hear my voice, so I just smile and nod. Yes, I remember the beastly Jarl of Windhelm; I had wondered if he was still alive. The war hasn't found its way to Whiterun yet, and I hope it never will. It's stayed limited to small skirmishes in the countryside, and thankfully even Danica's temple hasn't even seen any wounded soldiers yet. Well, until today anyway.
    I heal it until it's a smaller wound, less likely to be infected, and Danica hands me a bandage to wrap it.
    "Thank you so much, priestesses. I don't know what would've happened if.." Eorlund thanks us. I don't look up.
    "Danica, I didn't know you'd taken on a new apprentice. When did she join you?" Fralia, Eorlund's wife, asks her. I make the mistake of looking up at her, and Eorlund meets my eyes.
    "Wait.. I know your face. She's not a priestess." Eorlund says quietly. I slowly look up at him with shame in my eyes. "Where have you been? Everyone at Jorrvaskr has been worried sick!" He questions. I sigh deeply.
    "I just... needed to take some time away. I meant to go further, but... I got tied up in some things. I was hoping I wouldn't be seen." I tell him, finally tying the knot on Avulstein's bandage.
    "If a break was what you wanted, all you would need to do is ask Kodlak; and there's no need to hide. You've been promoted to the Circle, this is a time to celebrate—"
    "I know," I restrain myself from snapping at poor Eorlund, who isn't even a Companion himself. "I just didn't want to get anyone's hopes up." I explain, wiping a stray tear.
    "You mean Vilkas." He corrects me, and I glare at him. "What happened?"
    "Nothing happened; not with Vilkas. I'm just tired of the senseless killing." I sigh. I feel a bit odd saying this in front of Fralia and Avulstein, but I suppose it had to come out sometime. Fralia, for her part, just seems confused; but tears shine in Avulstein's eyes.
    "I understand." Avulstein says slowly. "I couldn't even count all of the Legion soldiers I've killed. Lot of 'em were Nords. They just needed the money, and the Legion pays better." He says as he examines the bandage on his knee.
    "How do you live with it..?" I ask quietly, fighting the tears in my eyes.
    "I remember what I fight for. We have a cause; the freedom of Skyrim, for her sons and daughters. You just need a cause." He explains carefully, looking me in the eyes. A quiet realization falls over me, but I turn and leave for the cellar.