Through my Blood

Chapter XXI: Crimson

Remus hung his head as he admitted the truth to the Harbinger of the Companions. He kept his eyes shut in humiliation.

He could hear it again. The blood-curling cries of those who died. He haven't had the slightest clue of how everything happened – he could only assume.

But, despite his memory failing him every time he tried to remember, the cries of the dead were so vivid that it haunted him... even in his sleep.

Kodlak placed a comforting hand on Remus's shoulders, "Calm down, son. You can tell me everything what happened. I'm all ears." he paused. "...Of course, if you haven't chosen to forget it?"

Remus glanced at Kodlak. He could see genuine concern in the old man's eyes and yet, he couldn't bring himself to find true comfort in the old man's words. Afterall, he was the one who hid all these secrets from him.

He knew that Kodlak didn't mean any harm, but he once treated Kodlak as the father he never had.

He trusted him. But, when the time came Kodlak had to tell him the truth – everything about his past, he felt betrayed.

That time, it hurt so much that he had to leave. As he made his way to the Whiterun stables, the hurt had started turning into anger. Upon reaching his horse, that anger had already grown exponentially.

That night he found himself riding for Silent Moons Camp.

It took almost two years before Remus had finally forgiven Kodlak for everything. He wouldn't be back here in Jorrvaskr if he hadn't.

He found his eyes locked with the Harbinger's before they slowly shifted away.

Yes, he had forgiven the old man. But that doesn't mean remembering the past was easy.

It's been two years... but not once had he forgotten about the faint memory of that fateful night.

Remus walked back and forth as he looked on to Thorvang Blood-Moon on his knees and his hands on the ground, coughing up blood. His huge battle-axe laid beside him, away from his hands.

The Blood-Moon pack, who were previously cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs for their leader along with other bandits, the same ones who kept on jeering at him as they fought, are now silent as they watched the duel about to come to an end in his favor.

The Pack-Leader continued to cough up more blood, yet he couldn't stop laughing, "Who would've thought you would become this strong? You were weak and sickly when you were born..." he spat more blood as he continued to snigger maniacally. "Even more pathetic when you grew as a boy.

Thorvang locked eyes with him before screaming at the top of his lungs.

"You were supposed to be the child of the prophecy!"

Remus remained silent as he stared at the man in disgust. He paid no heed to his words. With just one swing of his sword, and he can easily end him. Yet, he wasn't sure why he couldn't do so.

In an instant, Thorvang picked up his battle axe once more and got back up. He made powerful, blinding swings towards Remus.

He was considered a legend – even more so the moment he'd taken ahold of that very battle axe, which he'd used to cut down countless of his foes.

But, right from the start of that very battle, Remus beat him to dust like he was nothing. Due to the wounds he had sustained, it was fairly easy for Remus to dodge his onslaught.

Remus moved behind him and cut through the Pack-Leader's back. Thorvang stumbled down the dirt, heaving and helpless. Still, a demonic laughter escaped from his lips.