Dragonborn Rising Ch. 31

"'There the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel.' We can't even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad, and it's in pieces, like it has been for a thousand years."

"Then we speak to Eorlund about putting it back together," I finally said. The three looked at me in surprise, almost as if they'd forgotten I was there, "I'm not sure how you feel about all this, though you don't have to explain. Your faces and eyes say everything. But if anyone can put Wuuthrad back together, it's Eorlund Gray-Mane. I suggest we talk to him tomorrow."

The three agreed and we finally headed back into Jorrvaskr. Many would have thought it would have been quiet and solemn, but we were warriors not only mourning but celebrating the life of a fallen brother and leader. So there was plenty of food and ale shared, laughter echoed around the hall as many embellished stories were told. Many wanted to hear of my fight against the dragon outside Kynesgrove, as only Aela had been present. I kept to the facts as always, though Aela would butt in occasionally to exaggerate an aspect or two of the fight.

After many hours of eating, drinking, laughing, and yes, the occasional tear, only the Circle remained awake, sat together by the fire pit, still chewing on the cooling meat. The topic of conversation had naturally turned to the blood that flowed through our veins, and what we would do next.

"You got the heads, Ragnar. Did the old man explain how it would work?" Farkas asked.

"No. He simply said that taking their heads would release the curse."

"Hmmm. Maybe it's something to do with the tomb?" Aela wondered.

"It's possible. I'm sure the old man had his ideas. I'd go search through his things but..." Vilkas stated, but trailed off. Then he looked over the three of us. "Who here wants a cure?"

"I accepted the blood because I wanted to be part of the Circle and I could see the benefits. But I am a Nord, and I dream of Sovngarde. I will seek a cure eventually," Farkas stated.

"I don't know," Aela admitted, "You know I have taken to it deeply that others, and I still go hunting now. But my last words with the old man... I am thinking I should simply to honour him."

The three looked at me. "To be honest, I'll have that many arguing over my soul I'm not sure there's a point getting a cure anyway!"

"But seriously?" Vilkas asked.

"Same as Aela. It would honour Kodlak by all of us following his final wish to be clean. The Companions, and definitely the Circle, should not have links to a Daedric prince. But first we figure out a way to send Kodlak to Sovngarde, then we worry about ourselves."

Back at Breezehome, Aela wanted to end the evening on a positive note, as by the time I'd walked into the bedroom and turned towards her, she'd closed and locked the doors and taken off her top. I raised an eyebrow as her dress followed rather quickly, and after I was disrobed, I was pushed back onto the bed and mounted with what I would consider urgency.

I had a chuckle once the act was done, as all she was worried about was her own orgasm, and it was a good one, as she'd ridden me hard, fast and I'd taken pleasure in just watching her face and body as she stopped herself climaxing too quickly more than once. I think she was all cried out, as once she was done with me, she simply lay down on my chest with a smile on her face, particularly once I started to gently stroke her back. "End this day on a good note," she whispered.

Heading up to the Skyforge the next morning, the four Circle members approached Eorlund about reforming Wuuthrad. He agreed immediately but revealed a secret at the same time. "There is another piece that Kodlak always kept close to himself. Would one of you be willing to go to his chambers and bring it back for me? I'm not sure I'm the best one to go through his things."

For some reason, all eyes turned to me. "Kodlak spoke highly of you from the day you walked through the doors," Vilkas stated, "And, to be honest, none of us would feel..."

"I understand," I stated.

Walking the long hallways towards Kodlak's room felt like one of the longest of my life. Opening the doors, I immediately saw little reminders of the man everywhere. The chair where he was sat more often than not. The last book he had been reading. Trophies he had told long stories about. The bedroom was the same, and I felt like an intruder.

It took a bit of searching but I eventually found the piece of Wuuthrad, but after pocketing that, my eyes fell upon what looked like some sort of diary or journal. If he'd been alive, I would never have even considered reading it, but since he had now passed, I did wonder if he'd given any private thoughts to the cure. Feeling my heart beat a little faster, I picked up the journal and started to flip through the pages.

In my dream, I see the line of Harbingers start with Ysgramor. Each of them ascends to Sovngarde, until we come to Terrfyg, who first turned us to the ways of the beast. He tries to enter Sovngarde, but before he can even approach Tsun, he is set upon by a great wolf, who pulls him into the Hunting Grounds, where Hircine laughs with welcoming arms.

Terrfyg seems regretful, but also eager to join Hircine after a lifetime of service as a beast.

Then I see every next Harbinger turn away from Sovngarde and enter the Hunting Grounds of their own accord. Until it comes to me, and I see great Tsun on the misty horizon, beckoning me. It appears I have a choice. And then, at my side, a stranger I had not seen before. As I look into his eyes, we turn to see the same wolf who dragged away Terrfyg, and he and I draw weapons together.

I realize this is only a dream, but a strong enough dream to inspire a man like me to take to writing, so it must be of some import.

The journal speaks mostly of his trouble with the blood that flowed through his veins, and his thoughts on the Companions of the Circle. He admits to wanting a cure, and it's no surprise that Farkas and Vilkas feel the same as he. As for Aela, he was aware she had taken to the blood, as had Skjor.

While Vilkas was confiding, through the shadows of Jorrvaskr, I saw a newcomer approach, who wished to join our numbers. It was the stranger from my dream, the one who would stand with me against the beast. Vilkas began speaking obliquely, not wishing to air our problems in front of our guest, and I had to be doubly cautious to not reveal anything of our secrets to the newcomer while also not revealing the details of my dream to Vilkas. I don't know how the politicians deal with these sorts of machinations daily.

In any case, I've sent Vilkas to test the newcomer. We'll see if Ragnar is truly the great warrior I dreamt of.

I didn't particularly believe in premonitions, and didn't pay much attention to my dreams, but perhaps it was the gods themselves informing Kodlak of my arrival? I did wonder why he had been so ready to accept me into the Companions, and while we had not conversed as often as I'd wished, I had felt an immediate... closeness, for want of a better word, that I found surprising, but also comforting in a way.

I'm amazed that Aela thinks she can keep a secret among this drunken rabble. Especially with the loss of Skjor (my heart aches), emotions are fraying, and the walls of discretion are the first to fall.

Apparently she and Ragnar are waging their own separate war against the Silver Hand, in retaliation for Skjor's death. Their hearts are noble, but the course of vengeance is running hot, and I fear the counterstroke that may come if they do not rein in their fury.

Ragnar shows valour, though, even in this more underhanded time. We have not had cause to speak much, and that is something I deeply regret. I have high hopes for Ragnar destiny, as I realized that Ragnar appearance in my dream may indeed mark Ragnar as the Harbinger to succeed me.

I have received few dreams over the course of my life, but when they come, I have learned to trust them. I have also learned to trust the instincts of my heart, which tells me that Ragnar can carry the Companions legacy as truly as any residing in Jorrvaskr, especially with the loss of Skjor. Aela is too solitary, Vilkas too fiery, and Farkas too kind-hearted. Only Ragnar stands as a true warrior who can keep a still mind amidst these burning hearts.

I will not speak to Ragnar of any of this, though. It is too much to burden another with. My hope is that Ragnar and I can keep counsel over the coming years, that I can impart the wisdom of the Harbingers. All things in time. Firstly, I will seek Ragnar assistance in the matter of the witches of Glenmoril. It would appear that our path to the cure is not without some poetic justice for the tricksters who first cursed us.

I find no shame in admitting that I placed the journal next to me and wept, wishing he had been open with me about his thoughts. I'm not sure if it would have changed anything, but maybe, just maybe, everything that happened could have somehow been prevented.

I must have been a while as Aela eventually appeared in the doorway. Taking a seat beside me, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me tight to her. "About time you let it go," she said.

"It's not just that. I found this," I replied, gesturing to the journal.

"He kept a diary?"

"Aye. It makes for some interesting reading. Though I'm not sure..."

"I don't want to read it. Nor will the twins. Or, at least, we won't until his soul is laid to rest properly. Keep it to yourself for now. But the piece of Wuuthrad?"

"I'll take it to Eorlund in a minute."

Eorlund told me to give him three days and he should have the weapon forged, ready for us to take to the tomb. Having to wait around three days wasn't going to be fun, so Aela and I agreed that we'd spend the three days away from Whiterun, thinking that heading to the forests around Falkreath to hunt and fuck would be a pleasant way of spending time together.

Lydia understood why Aela and I wanted to go alone, and though I knew she was a little disappointed, she made no argument, simply wishing us a good time. Collecting our horses from the stables, we took our time riding east then south, not even hunting before it was time to make camp. We found a clearing within the forest, Aela putting up the tent as I gathered wood to make a fire. There was enough light that we could have a quick hunt for dinner, and eventually managed to snag a rabbit to eat.

Both of us had brought along enough ale for us to be merry, and if anyone had stumbled our campsite that night, they'd have heard plenty of laughter. At least to begin with. A little later, they'd have heard a lot of different noises. Knowing absolutely no-one was around, Aela wanted everything that night, eventually making love by the side of the fire, both of us looking up at the stars as she rode me to at least a trio of climaxes.

Under the furs once it grew too cold, Aela asked the question that had definitely been on her mind all day. "Were you serious about getting a cure soon?"

"I'm serious about a cure but I'm not sure when. Add to that, I'm still not sure how it works."

"I think one of the twins knows. No doubt they'll be researching how to do it right now."

"So while they're studying, we're fucking?"

That made her giggle. "Which would you prefer?"

A hand slid down her body towards her sex, her legs opening immediately so I could fondle her. "Well, I could ask you the same question?"

She answered that by rolling me on top of her, my cock sliding inside her easily, burying myself but not moving. I watched her face, the smile broadened, as I slowly started to make love to her. "Ragnar?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"Can I break the promise?"

"Not yet. But I know what you're thinking. Of course I do."

"So we're both thinking but can't talk about it?" I nodded. "Okay, I can live with that for now."

We spent the next two days wandering the forests of Falkreath, taking down a couple of deer and elk, agreeing to take them back to Whiterun to sell the hides and meat. Of an evening, we'd enjoy a good meal, a bottle of two of drink, and then make love again. It was certainly the best thing for us, as we were both still wracked by grief and guilt over the death of the old man. I knew the only thing that would help us would be ensuring Kodlak's spirit was finally sent to Sovngarde.

The time away spent together was enjoyable, but in the back of our minds for the three days was the fact we still had a job to do upon our return. Walking into Jorrvaskr upon our return, the twins were downstairs in their own quarters, the four of us gathering with Vilkas in his room. He and his brother had taken a contract that took them out of Whiterun but not too far away, and they'd released a lot of frustration killing a few wild animals. They made a joke or two as it was easy to figure out what Aela and I had been up to.

Vilkas and Farkas had also been looking into a cure, and it was at the tomb, and we would need to take the heads of the witches I'd killed at Glenmoril Coven. First there was Wuuthrad, the four of us walking up the Skyforge. Eorlund noticed us coming and beckoned us closer, gesturing towards a weapon covered by a cloth.

Once gathered around him, he removed the cloth to reveal the enormous two-sided axe. It was an impressive weapon. "Do you know the history of this weapon?" he asked.

I'm sure Vilkas probably did. I shook my head, as did Aela. "Carried by Ysgramor and his Five Hundred Companions, he killed an unknown number of elves, leading to the establishment of the First Empire. There are numerous stories about what happened to Wuuthrad over the centuries, but what is known is that it was shattered and its pieces were spread across Tamriel, and the Companions have spent much of their time searching for them. This is the first time since the days of the Second Era that all the pieces have been together, thanks to our Shield-Brother here.

'The flames of a hero can re-forge the shattered.' The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad. And now it will take you to meet him once more. As the one who bore the fragments, and also as you are the Dragonborn, I think you, Ragnar, should be the one to carry Wuuthrad into battle. The rest of you, prepare to journey to the Tomb of Ysgramor. For Kodlak."

As he handed me the weapon, I met his eye and nodded. "For Kodlak, Eorlund."

The four of us headed back to Jorrvaskr to plan. We agreed to leave at daybreak the next day, heading to Windhelm to rest for the night, completing the journey the day after tomorrow. No matter what, we would not return to Jorrvaskr until Kodlak's spirit was sent to Sovngarde. I don't think it was a case of 'Cure him or die trying', but I knew we would fight the gods themselves if they tried to stop us.

Lydia did ask if we wanted her assistance. I could see she was feeling left out of things, so I promised her that, once we were back from the tomb, the three of us would do something that would involve her too, even if it was just a simple hunt in the forests down south. That put a smile on her face, particularly once I explained what we were doing. She rose with Aela and I the next morning to wish us luck as we mounted our horses, and I made sure I gave her a long hug and a kiss of appreciation before I mounted mine.

Four heavily armed warriors on horseback would be ignored by everyone except the dumbest of bandits, or wild beasts who didn't want to live past today. With what was to come on our minds, we rode in pairs but conversation was minimal, even between Aela and myself, and we could talk about anything. We made it to Windhelm by nightfall, taking a pair of rooms at Candlehearth Hall, agreeing that we would leave first thing the next morning.

Being as far north as we were, the morning was bitterly cold, with fresh snowfall and the road icy underfoot. All of us wrapped up in thick fur coats, as many layers as possible, particularly once we started to head around the hills towards Winterhold. To the east of us was a bleak landscape of snow and little else. Snow Veil Sanctum was nearby, not that I wanted to visit the place again, though my mind did wander for a brief moment, wondering how all my old friends in Riften were doing.

There were no stables in Winterhold, instead having to leave our horses tied up outside the inn, heading inside to leave a few coins, asking they be looked after while we were away. The College of Winterhold was to the north of the city, but we passed under the bridge, heading north-west, Vilkas now walking with map in hand. Ending up on the bitterly cold shoreline, he pointed to what looked like an ancient cairn across the water. "That's Ysgramor's Tomb," he said.

"Just what we needed. Crossing ice with a good chance of falling in," Farkas muttered.

I know I wrapped my furs tighter before I took that first tentative step onto the ice. It seemed to take hours to cross to the other shore, but we all made it without falling in, only arriving with slightly wet feet. The tomb looked like it had been abandoned for centuries, though the door leading inside was unlocked. We were met by a statue of Ysgramor, all four of us taking a moment in front of it.

"This is the resting place of Ysgramor. And his most trusted generals. You should be careful, Ragnar," Vilkas stated. I gave him a look as there was something his tone that told me... He noticed my glance, shook his head. "Kodlak was right. I let vengeance rule my heart. I regret nothing of what we did at Driftshade. But I can't go any further with my mind fogged or my heart grieved."

"I did the same things, and feel the safe grief."

He lay a hand on my shoulder. "You helped your Shield-Sister in her battle against the Silver Hand as vengeance for the murder of our brother, Skjor. And you assisted your Shield-Brother in our battle at Driftshade. It was we that sought vengeance, not yourself, Ragnar. I'm not saying you just went along with us, but it was we that made the decision."

Telling me what to do, I took the enormous axe from my back and placed it in the hands of the statue. It was a perfect fit, and a hidden doorway opened out of sight. Each of us shared the handshake of a warrior with Vilkas before we departed, and he wished us good luck. His final words of advice were about what we would face. For once, we wouldn't face draugr. Instead, he believed we would face the spirits of Companions past, who would wish to test if we were worthy of heading to the tomb of Ysgramor himself.

I'd fought ghosts once or twice, and it was always a strange sensation, particularly when sticking your sword through them, as it felt like nothing, but they would quickly blink out of existence. The tomb was all others, with long halls of the dead, and one or two throne rooms. The Companion ghosts would only appear once our presence was known, and with little chance of sneaking through, we walked into each chamber armed and ready to fight.

The trio of Aela, Farkas and myself only ended once we came upon a door covered in webbing, Farkas pulled me aside to explain he couldn't go on. "Ever since Dustman's Cairn, the big crawly ones have been too much for me. Everyone has his weakness, and this one is mine."

"I don't like them either," I admitted.

"That is true, but you are also Dragonborn, and you can use your Voice to kill them. Trust me, you don't want me by your side, frozen in fear."

"Once the job is done, we'll come get you so you can at least see the tomb," Aela offered. Farkas was happy with that before he turned and headed back to the entrance.

"Just like old times," I said, "Ready?"