It was the morning after the bandit attack. The party had taken rooms at the Vilemyr Inn in Ivarstead, the first real shelter they'd seen since Whiterun. Kinetrius was still fast asleep in a bed of his own, shifting occasionally but otherwise lost in dreams.
In the next room, Minevi tended to Eradros's wounds. She worked with practiced silence, rinsing the cuts with cool water and wrapping them carefully with fresh bandages. Eradros sat still on the edge of the bed, watching her hands move, until the silence pressed on him too heavily.
"Minevi?" he asked, breaking it. "Is something the matter? It's so quiet I can hear the boy's dreams in the next room."
She did not answer right away. For a while she continued binding his arm, her lips pressed tight as if weighing her words. At last she spoke.
"Why did you say those things last night? To Kin."
Eradros raised a brow. "What things?"
"Why would you tell him you're a bad person? Why put that image in his mind?"
"I simply wished him to know the truth. Do you think me cruel in my delivery?"
"I think you were lying to him."
"The boy saw me take a man's life," Eradros said flatly. "It would be deceitful to paint any other image for him."
"Did you forget the part where they attacked us first?" Minevi shot back. "I don't get you… You're the best thing he's got, and you want to make yourself the villain?"
He exhaled sharply, turning his gaze away. "Before all of this, I was a career criminal—a thief. And a damn good one. Tell me, what sort of person does your Empire think I am?"
"The Empire doesn't decide who a good person is," she said firmly. "And you're deflecting."
Eradros's jaw tightened. "You think I enjoy feeling this way about myself? That I like people seeing me as a monster?"
"Monsters don't take in lost children or save the world," she said, eyes narrowing. "They destroy. That's not who you are. Why choose this life if it makes you feel like this?"
"Who said anything about choice?" His voice dropped lower, harsher. "You may have had options as far as the eye could see. For me, an orphan, there were three: thief, bandit, murderer. If I was lucky, I could bypass all of those and just become a skooma addict. I am not one to sing my sorrows, but there was no choosing of any kind."
Minevi paused, startled. "I… I didn't know you grew up an orphan."
"You thought I ran away from home with money from my parents, didn't you? Safe enough compared to the other trash, right?"
She stopped wrapping his bandages, stepping in front of him to meet his eyes. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"You know what it means."
"You can't seriously still be upset about that," she said, her voice sharpening. "That wasn't because I thought you were a bad person. You know that."
"Do I? Tell me then—why did you leave? When the Empire came for you that day, why didn't you stay?"
"I told you. I joined the Empire because I wanted to do some actual good for Skyrim—not run off with some pirate and his crew."
"Because I was surely going to do evil, right?"
"That's not what I—" she stopped herself, bristling. "You're cruel when your feelings are hurt, you know that?"
She snapped her satchel shut, gathering her bandages and salves in quick, angry motions. Eradros kept his eyes on the floor as she moved past him. At the doorway, she hesitated, her voice quieter but edged with steel.
"I'm trying to make a difference. What good would that do me if I still had ties to pirates and thugs? I know you're not like the rest—obsessed with greed and rot. I thought the time I spent with you was enough to show you that. I also thought you'd appreciate what I'm trying to do now. But all you've done is give me grief about it. I never judged you…"
She stormed out, the door slamming behind her, leaving him alone with the words he had just spoken.
Eradros sat a long while before finally pulling his tunic over his shoulders, wincing as the bandages tugged against his skin. When he stepped out into the hall, he saw Kinetrius still asleep in his room. Further down the corridor, the front door creaked open.
Gavhelus was coming in, dark circles under his eyes as though the night had given him little rest. He had just passed Minevi on her way out and now turned a grin on Eradros.
"Whew…" Gavhelus whistled, giving Eradros a sidelong look. "What on Tamriel did you say, mate?"
"Don't want to talk about it," Eradros muttered. He tugged his cloak tighter. "It's time to go."
"Sure thing, Cap'n."
Eradros roused Kinetrius, urging him to gather his things, and soon the four of them stepped out into the morning air. From here, the road ended—High Hrothgar could only be reached on foot.
As they stood discussing their climb, a villager passing with a sack of grain overheard.
"You lot headed up the mountain for prayer?" the man asked.
"Something like that," Eradros said. "How bad is the climb?"
"Not bad at all. Plenty of rest spots along the way. So many folk make the trip that the animals started guiding them—goats, foxes, sometimes even birds. Give 'em a treat if they help you."
"Wow, really?" Kinetrius said, grinning. "That's pretty cool."
The villager's smile dimmed. "Be careful, though…"
"What do you mean?" Eradros asked.
"Recently some of the pilgrims haven't come back. No one knows why. Some say ghosts, some say angry gods. I think it could be anything. Just… keep your eyes open. You look like the sort who can handle yourselves, but the mountain has a way of humbling folk."
Eradros nodded. "We'll keep that in mind. Thanks."
With that, they set off toward the mountain path.
The day was bright, the air sharp and clean. Sunlight filtered through the trees, their branches swaying in the wind, scattering flecks of gold on the road. Pilgrims dotted the lower steps, pausing at shrines to pray, murmuring soft words to the gods. Kinetrius passed them with his head lowered, careful not to disturb their devotions.
Hours slipped by as the climb carried them higher. The upper half of the mountain was another world—white, endless, and bitter cold. Snow blanketed every surface. The air thinned until each breath felt hard-earned. Gusts of wind ripped through the pass, blinding them in swirls of powder.
A goat had taken to walking ahead of them, its hooves crunching steadily in the snow. Kinetrius had fed it a berry earlier, and true enough, it seemed intent on leading the way. He smiled as he followed.
But then the goat slowed. It turned back, bleated at them, and started down the path it had come.
"I believe it said its job here is finished," Kinetrius said.
"Well that can't be right," Eradros muttered. "We're nowhere near the top yet."
"I know. I've only counted seven hundred and eighty-nine steps."
Gavhelus gave him a look. "You've been counting this whole time?"
"If I didn't find something to do I'd be bored to bones. No one's talked the whole way up. Is something wrong with you guys?"
"We're fine," Eradros and Minevi answered at the same time.
"…O…kay."
Gavhelus laid a heavy hand on Kinetrius's shoulder and shook his head, urging him to drop it. They pressed on, climbing higher. The storm thickened, the world around them dissolving into white. Wind howled between the rocks like the voices of the dead.
Suddenly Eradros stopped, staring at the ground.
"What's wrong?" Kinetrius asked. "Why'd you stop?"
"Blood," Eradros said grimly.
"I can smell it," Gavhelus murmured, nostrils flaring.
"Maybe it's just wolves," Minevi suggested. "We did see some on the way up."
Gavhelus shook his head, sniffing again. "…No. Definitely something more primal."
"Don't your dead friends tell you anything?" Minevi asked.
"None around," he said. "The dead don't linger in places like this. They prefer quiet… reflection."
"Whatever it is," Eradros said, his voice low, "keep your wits sharp. Move."
They followed the narrow path until it widened into a clearing. The snow flurry was relentless, visibility shrinking until they could barely see their own hands. Every step crunched, muffled in the storm's roar.
Then—a sound. A low, guttural growl, deep enough to rattle the air, echoing off the stone walls.
The group froze.
Kinetrius's heart hammered as he scanned the blizzard, eyes darting from shadow to shadow. And then he saw them—in the heart of the storm, two black eyes staring back at him from the mist.
"There!" Kinetrius cried, pointing into the white haze.
The others snapped their heads in the direction he indicated. Before anyone could react, a massive bone hurtled out of the mist. It struck Minevi squarely in the head. She crumpled instantly, her body limp as blood seeped into the snow.
"Minevi!" Eradros dove to the ground beside her, reaching for her body.
A blur of white slammed into him before he could lift her. The hulking, snow-furred creature barreled its shoulder into his chest and sent him flying over the ledge.
"NOOO!" Kinetrius screamed.
He bolted toward the cliff's edge, but the beast swung wide, its arm catching him like a battering ram. The blow hurled him backward into Gavhelus, knocking both of them to the ground.
The creature roared—a deafening, guttural sound that shook the mountain—and scooped Minevi's body into its arms. Without hesitation, it vanished into the storm, snow swirling in its wake.
Kinetrius crawled to the ledge, his heart in his throat. He peered down into the white abyss, but all he saw was snow falling endlessly into nothing. No sign of Eradros.
"Eradros… I can't see him! Is he gone?!"
"Don't know, lad." Gavhelus pushed himself up, face grim. "But we've got a bigger problem. That thing just ran off with our princess."
"What was that?"
"From the look of it—had to be a snow troll." He sniffed the air. "Guess we just found what's been happening to the missing travelers."
"Are they normally this aggressive?"
"Only when they feel challenged. But when they set eyes on a woman?" Gavhelus's tone darkened. "They go absolutely berserk."
Kinetrius's fists tightened. "We… we have to go get her."
"Agreed. But in this storm?" Gavhelus shook his head. "Might as well be feeding ourselves to it. Get up, boy. Let's get this over with."
Kinetrius hauled himself upright, brushing snow from his cloak. He cast one last look over the cliff. Still nothing. His chest ached with grief.
Gavhelus clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder as he passed. "One problem at a time, lad."
Then something caught Gavhelus' eye. He reached down into the snow, pulling out a necklace with a ring on it, the link broken. He eyed it for a moment, then sniffed it.
"Must've fallen off when it grabbed the lass." He turned to kin. "Come on. We got us a scent now, at least."
With his hood pulled low, Gavhelus trudged forward into the storm. Kinetrius followed, grief gnawing at him with every step. Snow deepened around them, waist-high in places, and Kinetrius's shorter stride left him stumbling more often than not. He slipped, staggered, and finally pitched forward face-first into the snow.
"Rraaaghh!" He pounded the ground with both fists, snow spraying. "I bloody hate this place! Why did my dad even bring me here?!"
He sat up, breath ragged, wiping his face with numb hands. Anger bubbled over; he clawed at the snow in frustration before forcing himself back to his feet. His eyes darted around.
Gavhelus was gone.
"Gavhelus?" Kinetrius spun in place. "Where are you?! Gavhelus!"
Only the shrieking wind answered.
Shapes loomed and vanished in the storm. Growls echoed faintly from the cliffsides, bouncing between stone walls until he couldn't tell their source. Panic gnawed at him. Eradros was gone—dead, maybe. Minevi was in the troll's grip. And Gavhelus… vanished.
He pushed forward, alone, into a clearing. The wind bullied him, shoving him sideways, driving snow into his eyes.
Then came another sound—footsteps, pounding heavy against the snow. The wheeze of something massive breathing close.
The noise cut off.
Kinetrius looked up.
Through the white veil, the troll lunged. It came from above, jaws wide, claws reaching.
Kinetrius hurled himself sideways, barely avoiding the crushing impact. The snow exploded where the beast landed. It turned instantly, swinging wide arms like hammers.
He stumbled, dodging desperately, rolling across the snow to avoid each strike. His limbs felt clumsy, his breath tearing through his chest. The troll's fury was relentless.
He kicked out in desperation, both boots slamming into its jaw. The impact jolted him upright, flipping him back onto his feet.
The troll roared, more enraged than hurt.
Kinetrius fumbled for his magic, but his hands were too numb, his fingers stiff with frost. He couldn't summon his blades. Instead, he snatched his shield and raised it as the troll charged.
The blow came like a thunderclap. Wood splintered, shards flying. The shield disintegrated in his hands, and the force launched him backward into a jagged rock. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, his body folding in pain.
Stars danced in his vision. He gasped, but air wouldn't come. Above him, the troll loomed, bellowing and pounding its chest, reveling in its dominance.
Kinetrius's eyes flickered open. His limbs refused him. The troll's roar shook the sky, and then its massive hand reached down to seize him.
Darkness pressed in at the edges of his sight. His eyes slipped shut, too heavy to hold open.
And the monster closed in.
A long, piercing howl rose from the distance. The sound tore Kinetrius from the blackness pressing in on him. He gasped awake, realizing with a start that he was still alive—the troll hadn't finished him.
He heard fighting close by. Heavy blows, guttural roars, the savage clash of beasts locked in combat. Blinking against the blur of snow, he saw the troll struggling against another massive shape. It had the frame of a man but fur, claws, and fangs like a beast.
A werewolf.
Kinetrius staggered upright, leaning on the rock that had nearly killed him. His voice cracked. "Gavhelus? …Is that you?"
The werewolf slammed the troll into the snow, claws locked on its throat. It turned its head toward Kinetrius and—astonishingly—nodded, gesturing with its snout toward a gap in the rocks.
Shaken, the boy braced himself against the wall and limped that way, every step an effort. Behind him, the troll heaved back to its feet and bellowed, hurling itself at the werewolf again. The two titans collided, claw and fang tearing into flesh.
Kinetrius pushed on, vision swimming, until his strength gave out. He sagged from the wall, ready to collapse into the snow. But before he hit the ground, strong arms caught him.
"Easy, lad. I've got you."
Kinetrius blinked up. "Eradros…"
"Yeah, lad. It's me."
"Ga… Gavhelus…"
"What about him? Where is he?"
"He's… he's in… danger. You have… to help him."
Eradros lowered him gently into a crevice sheltered from the wind. "You'll be fine. Stay here until I get back, you hear me?"
Kinetrius nodded weakly, and Eradros sprang off toward the sound of battle.
He crested a rise—and froze. The werewolf and the troll tore into one another, a storm of muscle and fury.
"By the Nine…" Eradros breathed. "Is that you, Gavhelus?"
Gavhelus was fast, his claws raking deep, but the storm blunted his senses. The troll, bred for this frozen hell, fought with brutal efficiency. Its hide was thickened by years of cold; its senses cut sharp through the gale. The two grappled, snow and blood flying.
Then the troll stomped down on the werewolf's foot, pinning him. With a savage twist, it sank its fangs into Gavhelus's shoulder. He howled in agony, thrashing against the lock.
"Dammit!" Eradros charged forward, sword in hand.
A second howl split the night. Eradros skidded to a halt, blade raised.
"This just gets better every minute, doesn't it?"
Two wolves leapt from the storm, fangs flashing. They tore into the troll's flanks, biting and dragging. The monster reeled, snapping at them wildly. Gavhelus tore free, retreating a step, chest heaving, blood dripping from his shoulder.
The wolves darted, one to each leg, clamping jaws around the troll's ankles. The beast thrashed, but its footing slipped.
The werewolf crouched low, claws sinking deep into the earth. Then he lunged, barreling forward at full speed. His shoulder slammed into the troll's chest with bone-crushing force.
The troll flew backward, over the cliff's edge, its scream fading into the white abyss.
Silence fell, broken only by the ragged breathing of the survivors. Gavhelus padded to the ledge, the two wolves at his side. Together, they lifted their heads and howled to the storm.
Eradros could only stare, awestruck. Slowly, Gavhelus's form shrank back to human, fur giving way to skin, claws to scarred hands. He stood naked in the snow, panting, and met Eradros's wide-eyed stare.
"What?" Gavhelus asked dryly. "Never seen a werewolf in action before?"
Eradros smirked despite himself. "Can't say that I have. Never thought I'd see you naked either. I prefer the wolf form."
"Oh, piss off," Gavhelus grunted, scanning the ground for his gear. "My armor's around here somewhere. Anyway—where's the kid?"
"Safe, for now."
"And the woman?"
Eradros blinked. "Wait… she's not here?"
"Afraid not," Gavhelus said grimly. "After you went over the ledge, the troll attacked again and carried her off. It was all I could do to keep the boy alive. We haven't found her yet."
Worry slammed into Eradros, his face draining pale. It was hard enough to see your own hand in this storm—finding Minevi would be near impossible.
"But all is not lost, mate," Gavhelus said, reaching into his hand. "I picked this up from where she fell. Must have her scent on it, I reckon."
It was a small necklace, a ring strung on its chain. Eradros's chest tightened.
"I gave her that," he said quietly.
"Did you now? Well, let's hope it's enough." Gavhelus knelt, holding it out to the wolves. They sniffed intently, once, twice, then again, before bolting off in a single direction, barking into the storm.
"Well, don't just stand there, mate," Gavhelus called. "You'll lose 'em. I'll go fetch the boy—and my armor."
Eradros hesitated, emotion thick in his throat. "I… I don't know what we'd do without you, Gavhelus."
"Yeah, yeah." Gavhelus waved him off. "Sing me the praises later. Now get going."
Eradros broke into a run, following the wolves' barks through the mist until they stopped at the yawning mouth of a cave. Blood stained the snow at the entrance, and inside lay bones—scattered, broken, human and animal alike. The stench of death clung to the air.
Dread knotted in his chest. He braced himself for the worst.
The wolves padded in ahead of him, sniffing cautiously. One halted, lowering its head with a whimper. Eradros followed its gaze.
A pile of corpses. Women, stacked like trophies.
"Dear gods…" he whispered, falling to his knees. "How many lives has that beast claimed?"
Ten at least. Maybe more. The men had been ripped apart and eaten; the women preserved like grim mementos.
And then he saw her.
Minevi lay apart from the pile, her body slack in the snow. Eradros crawled to her side, tears burning his eyes as he pulled her into his arms. Her skin was ice-cold, her pulse weak but present. Barely alive.
"Come on, love," he choked. "We've gotta get you out of here."
He gathered her carefully and carried her from that charnel cave, following the wolves back into the daylight. The storm had quieted, shafts of sun breaking through, glinting on the snow-covered cliffs.
"I thought about what you said," Eradros murmured, his voice low, as though she might hear him even in her unconscious state. "And you were right. As always. I've been unkind—for reasons that were never about you. I admire what you do. Even though most Nords would sneer at the thought of serving the Empire, I understand what you're trying to achieve. I should've told you sooner how proud I am… how glad I am to have you with us."
He trudged on, the wolves leading the way, the sun growing brighter overhead.
"That time we spent together, stuck in the wilderness… I heard your dreams. How you wanted to bring order, stability. A world where people could live without fear. Without even thinking about it, they became my dreams too. I wanted to be the hand you waved over Skyrim to cleanse it. I almost believed I could. But I was just a thief. What good could I bring? When the Empire came for you, and you left without a word…" He swallowed hard. "It hurt. I thought you never believed in me. But I know now—it wasn't about me. You just couldn't be deterred. And I was selfish for resenting you. For that… I'm sorry."
They reached the beaten path again. The sky opened above, sun streaming down. Light spilled across Minevi's face, and she stirred faintly, squinting at the brightness. Eradros didn't see it—he only marched on, lost in his confession.
"I honestly don't know why you put up with me."
"I don't either…"
Eradros froze, staring down at her.
"It's like I enjoy punishment," Minevi whispered, her lips curling faintly.
With a start, he dropped her into the snow.
"Ow! You can't do that—I'm injured!"
"Not too injured to toy with my emotions, I see," he muttered.
Minevi pushed herself up, brushing snow from her cloak, then turned to gaze out across the sweeping vista of Skyrim.
"I don't know… it was nice being carried by you." She smiled faintly. "If I were gullible, I might think you actually care for me."
Eradros stepped close, his breath stirring her hair. "So what if you were? Illusions are real enough—so long as no one shatters them."
She shook her head with a smile. "That mouth of yours. It's the reason I left without saying anything. I was afraid—not in the way you thought. Sometimes you say the most beautiful things, and I clung to every word. I was afraid you'd talk me out of going. Worse—I was afraid I'd listen. But that wasn't fair. I never gave you the chance to live up to your words. I doubted you, when you never doubted me. I should have trusted you."
Before Eradros could respond, slow clapping echoed from nearby. Both of them turned. Gavhelus and Kinetrius sat on a boulder, grinning like mischievous children.
"This is the best," Gavhelus crowed. "I thought the kid's story was epic—but you two? You've got a real lovers' tale on your hands."
Minevi flushed scarlet and looked away.
"It's not like that," Eradros said quickly. "We just… got some things off our chests."
"Either way, it seemed healthy," Gavhelus said with a wink. "Glad you finally kissed and made up. I could smell the tension from the moment I met you."
Minevi exhaled sharply. "What exactly happened while I was out?"
Kinetrius hopped down eagerly. "It was nuts! You got attacked by a snow troll—it threw Eradros over a cliff, then carried you off! Gavhelus and I tried to find you, but I got attacked again. Then Gavhelus turned into a werewolf and saved me, and I blacked out. And now… here we are!"
Minevi blinked. "That's… quite the list. The next thing you'll tell me is a dragon showed up."
As the words left her lips, the air split with a bone-shaking roar. Eradros and Kinetrius looked up, their blood running cold.
A dragon swept past the mountain, its wings carving the sky. Its scales shimmered green, frost trailing from its jaws with every chilling cry. It had not seen them; it only passed, roaring into the distance.
Minevi clutched her mouth, eyes wide. Gavhelus stared, dumbstruck.
"Well," Eradros said grimly, "that settles it. There's more than one."
"Hearin' about it is one thing," Gavhelus muttered. "But seein' it… they're really comin' back, huh?"
"This can't be good," Kinetrius whispered. "More people are going to die."
"Don't fret, lad." Eradros put a hand on his shoulder. "This is what we came for. Right now, our task is to get you to the Greybeards. Leave the rest aside."
"You think I can actually take one of those down?"
"If prophecy means anything," Gavhelus said, "you're the only one who can."
Eradros's eyes hardened. "Then let's move. High Hrothgar won't be far now."
The four pressed on in silence, the dragon's cry still ringing in their ears. At last the monastery loomed ahead—stone rising from the mountain itself, a fortress fit for warlords. Stairs climbed toward its gates, offerings laid at their base by trembling pilgrims.
They stood a moment in awe, then Eradros and Kinetrius shared a glance. Together they began the climb. Minevi and Gavhelus followed close behind.
At last, they were at the doors of High Hrothgar, and the answers that awaited them inside.
Chapter End—