#silver hand

I never thought I'd get attached to this kid, and I'm not exactly sure when it started.

Truth be told, the moment I opened my eyes and saw the poor guy clutching his bleeding hand, I felt a lil bad, never would've guess he was a werewolf, I initially thought he was some poor kid that wandered his way into the crypt and got lost.

And then there was the time he fell off his horse, Marbles.

I could have stayed on, I was stable enough, instead I grabbed and held onto him, I fell first, bruised myself bad, but I didn't want him getting hurt.

But, surely anyone would have done that for a kid, right? It's just common sense.

Yet I didn't push him away when he hid behind me meeting my father, or held my hand when we walked through the Soul Cairn.

I'm trying to deny it, yet as we weave through the tall grass and into a rundown house, next to nothing beyond fragments of its foundation left for it's roof, and single lone bed, I can't help but soften my voice when I promise him I'll keep watch for the night, as he curls up in his fur armour, sneaking glances at me underneath his hood, blonde hair falling over maroon eyes.

I never said anything, because I never felt the need to, but what was more unexpected than the lycanthropy, is that he's not an ordinary Dunmer, I believe he's mixed, maybe with Nord?

It doesn't matter, it's none of my business. Though, I can't help but wonder where he comes from... He mentions his mother, his father, and a sister when he was buying a doll from that Khajiit caravan in Whiterun.

He's said they're in Riften, not far from the Dawngaurd, so what the hell is he doing wandering around as he is? What's more, how he refers to his family lends me to believe they're not his first.

But I can't ask, I won't. It's not my business, not really...

My eyes feel heavy, limbs weary, my vampirism only takes me so far, and lately, I've really been pushing myself, we used to take turns staying up and keeping watch when we were too wary for an inn.

But crossing then and back through that frigid strait to talk to that crazy old man Septimus, really seemed to take the wind out of Jalfik's sails, dare I say it I think I felt my heart stop seeing him plunge into the dark icy water not once, but TWICE to swim to the next nearest patch of ice.

Gods, I just about screamed for him when he slipped under before he actually resurfaced again, we're lucky we made it to some tomb to warm up before losing any fingers or toes to the cold.

Regardless, he was exhausted, and was shivering long after we reached Winterhold, and when we reached Alftund...

He collapsed...

Not sure what happened, I thought he was doing fine, but when I actually touched him, he was cold as a corpse.

I held him for hours and waited for him to regain consciousness, and maybe that's when I began to really realise I'd gotten attached...

I sigh, leaning my head back, looking past the remains of the roof to gaze upon the darkening sky, the warm shades of reds and pinks, fading into purples and blues, stars beginning to dot the sky, the moon rising as the sun sets.

I smirk, thinking back to how Jalfik and I took a wrong turn and stumbled upon the Temple of Azura, he had no idea who she was, and when the priestess tried telling him he was chosen as her champion, he rejected her without batting an eye.

I'm not sure wether it's innocence, or ignorance, or if there's even much of a difference between the two, but regardless, I can't help adore that quality of him.

I pull the snow bear pelt more snugly around my shoulders, fighting to stay awake as the sun sinks ever further below the horizon.

★★★

I awoke to a shrill scream, my blood running cold as I turn to the source in time to see Jalfik roll out of bed in time to narrowly miss the blade of a battle ax falling upon the bedframe.

Beneath the moonlight the armour of the assailant glints like glaring eyes of a smilodon as Jalfik scrambles to flee, the cold iron of their boot slamming into his flank with a harsh thud that sends his flailing body against the wooden walls of the shack, his screams cut off with a whimpering cry as the breath is brutally knocked from him.

I feel my blood burn, my muscles tense and coil, sinew searing like snakes as I bolt up and onto my feet, the assailant's ax poised above Jalfik as he struggles under their boot, he screams my name, and without hesitation, I answer.

I throw several ice spikes into the attacker, they recoil and stumble, whipping back to face me, I guess they didn't see me where I was sitting, curled up in the corner, their mistake as I regard them with a snarl, my features twisted in a look of hatred as Jalfik squirms free, scrambling to his feet, he bolts for me.

Their hand reaches out to grab him, I don't let them, I throw several more ice spikes, they curse, and now register me as a threat, their eyes locked upon me as Jalfik rushes to my side, behind me.

But it's only now I push him away, and with a stern snarl I speak to him, my eyes never leaving the figure.

"Run. Hide. NOW."

He obeys, thank gods he does, tearing out the doorway, his footsteps deafened by the blood roaring in my ears as I shift my stance, and square up to this attacker, she watches him go with a look of urgency, bracing her axe, she lunges.

She's a Nord, a strong one, her armour heavy, her swings heavier, I stagger and she just barely manages to shove past me, but I don't give her another second to pursue Jalfik before I've pounced on her from behind, tackling her into the tall over grown grass.

She throws me off, I roll onto my back, kicking her face and chest to buy myself time to get to my feet, she's strong, I begin to feel my heart hammer with doubt, but I push on, I throw everything I've got at her, till my magicka is as drained as my body feels, my limbs shaking, knees weak, she closes the distance with a bellowing roar.

My hand closes upon my dagger, my stomach churns recalling this as the dagger Jalfik gave me, it's a good one, can't fathom where he got it, only said it came from a 'woman of the black hand'.

But this is no black-hand, this is the Silver-Hand, and I know damn well who they're after...

I clench my jaw, and meet her halfway with a lunge of my own, skirting just out of reach from the swing of her ax, just barely clipping me, her eyes widen, the hatred waning as the life leaves her eyes, the blade sinking deep into the flesh of her neck and out the other end, she left herself open for my blade to catch beneath her armour, and just like that, she collapses into the tall grass, stained red with blood from the both of us.

I hear a rustle, and look up from her corpse, bracing myself for another attack, but I'm only met with the disheveled blond hair beneath a hood, and wide red eyes staring back.

I feel my shoulders drop, breathing a big sigh of relief.

"Jalfik..."

He doesn't move, I put my dagger away, and slowly approach, he's only a kid, so I can only fathom how frightening this and everything else we've encountered must be.

I'm somewhat shocked at the quiver in my own voice. "H-Hey now... It's alright..."

His eyes flick to the wound on my arm from the ax, I cover it with my opposite hand. "I'm fine..." I kneel down, and open my arms, trying to coax him, reassure him that everything is fine, it's all over.

But I know it's not so simple.

Getting jumped like that, while we were sleeping... I feel heart squeeze, and guilt blossom, I was supposed to keep watch, this is my fault, I should have seen them coming.

Regardless, he crawls out of where he was crouching among the tall grass, with a stuttering sharp breath, biting his lip as tears roll down his face, before swiftly closing the distance, throwing his arms around me, burying his face into my neck.

I squeeze him, talking softly. "Shhh... It's okay, I got you... You're alright..."

He suddenly stills, even his sobbing halts, his breath held, I furrow my brow, concern creeping over me as I feel his heart hammer even through his thick warm fur armour.

I realise from where he's hugging me, he might see the carnage I just inflicted, so I swiftly press my hand to his head, keeping his head down, but he fights me.

"Jalfik...?"

I'm about to lift him into my arms and carry him back inside, when he struggles out of my grasp with a sharp strangled cry, pointing, stumbling back as I finally register the shadow looming over us.

I have no chance to so much as turn to take a look at the new threat, before my reality is rocked by a sudden sharp blow to my head.

I taste blood, it's sour, the world spins, the ground shudders and tilts, the stars look like they're falling, I hear Jalfik scream my name.

I think he already did that, maybe he's doing it again, I can't think, I try to act, try to come to his aide as his sobbing seeps into my mind, trickling like spriggan sap into the folds of my remaining consciousness, but I can only stretch and flex my fingers, the edges of my vision blurry, dark, intangible...

And the last thing I hear is snarling and howling, wet snapping and heavy breathing.

★★★

My head is fucking killing me, I want to stick it under the most frigid waters of Skyrim and hope the throbbing pounding goes away, but it never does.

I roll onto my back with a groan, smelling blood, blinking up at the starry sky, I reach my hand up to the source of the dull pain, rather then the texture of my hair, I feel something dry, pressing it feels wet and sticky, soaked into my scalp and skin.

It's blood.

I slowly sit up, catching my breath as though I've run a marathon, my eyes lock upon the ruined remains of a house.

Then I remember.

"Jalfik?!"

I stumble to my feet, and promptly fall right back to the earth, overwhelmed with vertigo brought by the pain intensifying to near scorching degrees, my body shudders and trembles, I fight to keep myself from outright throwing up, taking several long breathes, overcome by instinct, I taste the air and crawl to another source of blood, the features familiar, evoking a murmur of hate in my heart as I lap up what remains of their blood from their body.

Sated, I feel my strength gradually returning, with some effort I put my feet under, and with only mild stumbling, I stay that way.

For a good minute I just remain standing, looking with my eyes, afraid that if I turn my head I'll trigger another dizzy spell and meet the ground again.

I swipe my tongue over the roof of my mouth, I just fed and yet my throat feels dry as I try calling out again, my voice broken.

"Jalfik...?!"

Silence, I suddenly feel heavy, like I want to collapse to my knees, but I take a deep, long, shuddering breath, looking around the scene, for any sign of him, alive or otherwise...

Instead I see more blood.

My feet feel heavy as lead as I force myself to follow the trail, my stomach churning to knots as I nearly stumble over some unseen stone, and looking upon it, it's no stone, but a warhammer, it's handle caught upon my foot, I shake it loose, and press ahead upon a small incline, and pause.

A mangled corpse, torn to shreds and borderline unrecognizable.

It's not Jalfik, that's all I care about, too big, not the right armour, and upon further inspection it's an orc, but the insignia of the Silver-Hand stands out, invoking a fresh wave of ire threatening to spill over and send me sinking to my knees.

I stumble back, and brace against the wooden walls of the house, steeling myself.

No one else could have killed them other than Jalfik, so unless there was a third Silver-Hand, he has to be somewhere.

But I begin to feel doubt trickle in. If Jalfik was close by, why hadn't he heeded my calls? Surely he heard them?

Unless he's injured... Or worse...

I clench my jaw, once more surveying the scene for any trace, any sign, and something sticks out.

Paw prints, the claws embedded in the soil, deep, as they would if he were running, but that's not too concerning, considering he runs around everywhere, regardless, the urgency of the matter remains, and I set off, following his sporadic trail.

★★★

I never was good at tracking, but I try my best.

Wherever his trail disappears, I easily pick it up again by finding and following any nearby wolves, two sets of wolves so far, both with kills freshly made based on how the carcasses remain mostly intact, beyond the signs that somone, somone Jalfik sized, ate from them.

He sought safety among the wolves, but kept moving, good. That's the smart thing to do.

Especially given that not far from the second group of wolves, up the path he was more or less following, I spotted followers of Standarr, my heart nearly stopping as I remained in the shadows, waiting for them to walk by, before resuming my journey.

Jalfik's trail long veered off back into the tall grass, weaving through the terrain to stay out of sight of the path, he would have been downwind, so he must have smelt them before he saw them.

I nearly lose the trail again, suddenly ending upon the path again, at a crossroad, the cobblestone doesn't lend as much evidence as trampled grass does, other than the occasional claw mark on the stone, like finding a needle in a haystack, and so I take a leap of faith, reading the sign posted by the road, I assume he took the path into Falkereath, and start walking, eyes glued to the ground for any trace of him.

And finally, the trail resumes.

Broken branches, distrubred leaves, and trampled undergrowth.

I follow it into a thicket, for now the trail has remained bloodless beyond the paw prints of his forelimbs, I assume, and hope, that it's not his own.

Finally, the trail stops, I still, there he lays, curled up and shaking, barely visible beneath a bunch of ferns and a fallen tree.

As I approach, his eyes snap open and he snarls, startling me, he's never growled at me, but I can understand why he would. I kneel down.

"Hey, it's me."

He relaxes, staring. "Serana...?"

I reach my hand out, I know he's not necessarily a dog, but I've seen him sniffing things all the time, especially new things, moments before he tries putting it in his mouth and I have to wrestle it out of him.

He slowly crawls forward, out from under the tree to sniff my hand, before he leaps at me, throwing his arms around me.

He sobs with relief, and I feel like I almost do as well, but I bite my lip and keep myself composed, squeezing him.

I hold him like that, letting him cry for a good minute or more, before I feel his shivering return.

"You know anywhere close by we can stay till morning?"

He pulls away, snot smeared on his face, I don't even mind that he might have gotten it on my clothes at this point.

"Falkereath." He simply says as he summons Arvak, struggling to get on until I lift him on for him, climbing on behind him.

He checks his map, his little hands grasping the edges as I direct the horse onto the path, before I halt.

He looks up at me. "What's wrong?"

"I see smoke."

Jalfik follows my gaze, beyond the mossy rocky terrain and trees, his eyes fixate upon the thin wisps of smoke rising beyond the reach of the tree limbs.

With some caution, I direct Arvak to the source, the atmosphere is tense, both of us on edge, and I can't help but feel it bleeds into Arvak, as they almost seem to hesitate in going off the path, before carefully stepping beyond the threshold, into the woods, were a twig to snap I feel they would bolt and fly into the woods, carrying us along with them.

I tighten my grip on their reins as we finally round a corner.

It's a shack, a tiny one, against the wall is a table, upon it the carcass of a deer in the midst of being butchered.

Not far a campfire, still burning bright, a cooking spit complete with pots, I feel Jalfik move, and swiftly grab him to still him.

I order. "Stay."

He simply nods as I slide off Arvak, and, taking my dagger, I slowly approach the doorway of the shack, creeping inside, it's littered with herbs and hunting materials, pheasants and rabbits hang from hooks, the blowing wood adding to the soft subtle creak of wind, muffling my footsteps as I peek round a corner and behold two figures asleep upon bedrolls.

I hold my breath, backing up, and swiftly leaving the shack, and much to my dismay, but so much suprise, Jalfik did not, in fact, stay.

He's by the fire, warming himself, as much as I want to be mad at him, I can't blame him for being cold.

I'm just about to tell him we can't stay here, and to get back on Arvak, when Arvak in question, expires, dissipating, their bones clattering harshly against one another, both Jalfik and I cringing and recoiling at the noise that shatters the silence of the night as they turn to dust, scattered by the wind.

Before either of us can summon the damn horse again, we're both frozen by the sound of shuffling and shifting within the shack.

I swiftly plant myself between Jalfik and the two hunters as they emerge from the shack, rubbing their eyes.

With the light from the fire I now see it's a man and a woman, a Redgaurd and an... Altmer?

They both narrow their eyes, fixating upon me, a look of suspicion no doubt as I do my best not to look suspicious.

I feel Jalfik timidly peer from behind me, their eyes flick to him, and their features relax.

The Redgaurd speaks first. "You two lost?"

I fail to find my words, only stammer. "I- We're not- We just... I- N-Not exactly..."

He raises his eyebrows, glancing at his companion, who meets his glance, before approaching the fire to toss another log in.

I look from the Altmer to the Redgaurd several times, he simply yawns, stretching his arms.

"You're welcome to stay, plenty of food to go round too."

I feel weak with relief that they didn't so much as suspect anything, Jalfik at that queue is already getting comfortable, helping himself to some of the strips of meat cooking on the spit, I sigh and shake my head, before settling down onto the bench by the fire with a longer, exhausted sigh.

The Altmer approaches the Redgaurd, she speaks in a voice so soft I nearly miss hearing it, but she says something about fishing, before planting a kiss on her partner's face, and striding off into the woods.

The Redgaurd glances upon Jalfik and I, his brow furrowing.

"You're wounded."

I blink, looking at Jalfik, before I realise he's talking about me, I touch my hand to my head, remembering the wound I received against the Silver-Hands.

He commands "Stay there, I've got some something for that." Before he disappears back into the shack.

He returns shortly after with some herbs and dressing, I nearly flinch when he settles down next to me, but force myself to remain still as he begins dressing my wounds.

My eyes flick to Jalfik, contentedly chewing on a slice of fish, his eyes fixed on the sky.

I follow his gaze, my eyes met with the aroura blazing in the colours of autumn, banners of red, yellow and orange with accents of green.

I feel myself relax, and somehow, I know we'll be alright.

A picture of Jalfik.