- There stands an old monument on Whiterun’s tundra,
- where Gjukar and his men made their final stand.
- For seven centuries, two spirits lingered nearby,
- each searching for the other.
- This is their tale.
- Gjukar pitched his army’s camp
- Where no wise captain would,
- Within a shallow tundra fold
- With higher ground above.
- Their campfires seen for miles around,
- Bright beacons in the night,
- While hidden bows upon the heights
- Were drawn beyond their sight.
- Young Fenrig told his weary men
- The battle came next day.
- They’d face the foe when horns were blown,
- Then he could go home again.
- But every fire burned too bright,
- Each ridgeline seemed too near.
- He watched the darkness gathering
- And could not master fear.
- Bowstrings whispered from the heights
- Before the warning horn.
- Fenrig died beside the fire
- Before the battle’s morn.
- One waited where the campfires faded.
- One searched where the banners lay.
- He lived beneath tomorrow’s shadow.
- She walked through yesterday.
- Through winter snow and summer rain,
- Through kingdoms lost and gone,
- Ruki called across Gjukar’s Field.
- Fenrig awaited dawn.
- When word arrived that Gjukar fell,
- Ruki crossed the tundra plain.
- She walked among the broken shields,
- The trampled grass and slain.
- She cleaned each face of blood and mud
- And searched each silent head.
- Her Fenrig wore a beard of flame;
- She knew he must be dead.
- She searched until her footsteps ceased,
- Then searched when life was gone,
- While far away beside cold stones
- Fenrig awaited dawn.
- Seven centuries came and passed
- Before a priestess came,
- An Arkay servant travelling north
- Who heard of Ruki’s shade.
- She listened as poor Ruki told
- Where Gjukar made his stand,
- Then wondered where the soldiers slept
- Before they crossed that land.
- Beyond the field, behind a ridge,
- She found the campsite there:
- Blackened stones from ancient fires
- And arrowheads everywhere.
- She found young Fenrig by the flames
- That only he could see.
- He thought the battle came at dawn,
- As it had seemed to be.
- She told him he had died that night
- Before the warning horn,
- And Ruki searched beyond the ridge
- Each evening and each morn.
- The sleeping soldiers disappeared.
- The flames became cold stone.
- And Fenrig followed Arkay’s guide
- Across the field alone.
- Ruki saw his hair of red
- Beyond the silver grass.
- She ran as though no years had gone,
- No death or age had passed.
- She’d searched where Gjukar’s banners fell.
- He’d waited where they rose.
- Seven hundred years had passed
- Since either campfire glowed.
- They looked across the empty field,
- At monument and hill,
- And finally understood their fate
- As all around grew still.
- Ruki placed her hand in his.
- No further words were said.
- At last they knew what time had done,
- And knew that they were dead.
- The priestess prayed that Arkay loose
- What death had held so long,
- To guide them both to Aetherius
- Where both of them belonged.
- No more waiting where campfires faded.
- No more searching where banners lay.
- No hearts beneath tomorrow’s shadow.
- No feet in yesterday.
- Through winter snow and summer rain,
- Through seven centuries gone,
- Ruki found him at Gjukar’s Field,
- And they crossed beyond the dawn.
- Two lovers lost upon the tundra,
- For centuries led astray.
- At last they left Gjukar’s Field
- And reached Aetherius that day.
- Reunited.
Truly, a sad tail Mark, and one that has been repeated throughout History. Rarely do the stories of those left behind, ever get told.
It had been years since Wulf and Rigmor did that quest. I think they need to do it this time.
Oh Mark, that was a real tear jerker, I loved. I don’t think you can improve upon the last time you told it.