《Skyrim: The story of a Nightingale》


 Prologue

    In the far south of Skyrim, somewhere not far from Helgen, on a summer night. Two women ride stirrup by stirrup on the road leading to the Cyrodiil border. Both are very young. One is a brunette with dark, curly hair cut short. A frightening scar furrows her face, which has features as if cut in stone and might have been pleasant if it weren''t for her eyes. Her black, wide-lidded eyes are fixed and sharp, rarely blinking, and perhaps if they had the sharp edges of daggers, they could easily pierce even one of those handcrafted armors that were once forged by the People of the Deep.


    The other is tall for a woman, blonde, and with short hair cut above her ears. She''s very pretty, has gray, soft eyes, and could be considered very beautiful, a rare specimen in that respect, if she weren''t so thin! She is so slender that she looks transparently diaphanous, and when a gush of warm wind blows in, bearing the scent of fir-trees that have been sun-browned in the daytime, you would sometimes expect to see her dissipating like a light mist, rising up into the deep, starry summer night sky.But perhaps this is only an appearance because, if you look more closely, you notice that the long, hooded cloak in which she is wrapped is embroidered with all sorts of arabesques and runes that seem to have a life of their own. Sometimes they shimmer with a ghostly glimmer in the spectral light of the Secunda, at other times they seem to move gracefully, like the foam of waves, giving the impression that the cloak is the surface of a sea, apparently somewhat calm on the surface, but tossed by strong waves in the depths.


    The dark-haired woman carries a child across her chest in a black bundle clasped to her shoulder, in a manner often used by the ordinary women of these lands who must work or hunt while still nursing their babies.This is a poor land whose men are seldom at home, engaged in the endless wars of the Empire. Most are conscripted as young men into those imperial legions called the "Iron Legions" that brought glory and splendor to the Empire. Others are always away at sea, on secret and savage raids for plunder in the southern lands.


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    Not far from the fortified gate that separates Skyrim from Cyrodiil, the two women saddle their horses and dismount.Without a word, the brunette loosens the baby''s bundle and hands it to the other. The blonde''s eyes fill with warmth and she sheds a few tears... But maybe it''s just an illusion, because everything Kiersten does, every move she makes, seems shrouded in a diaphanous haze where strange luminaries play in a peculiar manner, false lights that cannot spread the darkness but only thicken it. And her eyes, which are originally grayish, change color so often! She hastily stretches out her arms to receive the bundle in which the child sleeps very peacefully, and then, with graceful, supple movements, passes it along her chest.She sighs softly and, while looking straight into the other woman''s eyes, asks in a crystalline voice, like the low, low sounds of a magic silver bell. "Are you sure, sis?"The other mumbles a hurried "Yes" as she tries to tear her gaze from the blonde''s eyes. But she fails and continues to stare at Kiersten as Kiersten whispers further, "Keep in mind that if you entrust her to me now, she will be mine forever. I''ll be her mother and I''ll never mention you to her!""Yes," the other one choked, "Where I''m going, there''s no place for children, and she herself was a mistake... I''m sure she was meant for you and I was wrong to steal your man!"To which, as crystalline waves of laughter burst from her mouth, Kiersten said, "Oh Astrid, why are you being silly? You know very well that since we were children we have shared everything we have found good in this world!""Yes, I''m sure!" replied Astrid sternly, and with an effort of will, she tore herself away from her sister and took a rather bulky bag from her horse''s saddlebag. "Take this, Kiersten, and may Nocturnal guide your steps."The blonde hastily grabbed the bag and then the women threw themselves into each other''s arms. "Farewell," they said, and then they both mounted their horses, Astrid riding slowly back north while Kiersten rode at a cheerful, playful pace south.Right then, to the east, Masser, still hidden by the mountains, began to cast its reddish glow over the land.


    Somewhere, not near but neither too far away, an owl began to hoot..."Never mind, I don''t believe in omens and I am strong enough to defeat or avoid any threat," Kiersten whispered as she gazed lovingly at the baby at her breast.

 Chapter 1

    I don''t really remember much about my early years... Although I am so young, those times seem to have been in another era and another world and, in fact, something like a mist seems to hangs over them! I don''t even like to remember them, I just feel pain and fear when I think about them. But what happened then is significant for the whole subsequent course of my life so, my friends, I will tell you everything I remember!


    I only have in my memory a tall, blonde woman who was very dear to me, probably my mother. I''ll call her that in what little I can write about my early childhood. And I remember that we lived together in a nice little cottage in Bruma, where my mother, who was unmarried, ran a shop. I suppose I was happy enough at the time because my first memories show the crisp clear skies, the fresh snow and the fresh, comforting smell of cold that reigned on the streets of that northern town at the foothills of the Jerall Mountains. I had many toys, each more interesting and beautiful than the last, but my mother was the most wonderful of them all. Every evening, when she came back from her store where she spent the rest of the day, she would play with me and cuddle me as not many mothers do. She was so beautiful, with such a sweet and melodious voice! My mother was young and agile too, and we often happily chased each other around our little house! And she used to invent new games, or maybe they were just very old games from another part of the world... Sometimes, my mom would tell me wonderful stories where knights in shining armor, always full of honor, saved beautiful ladies, damsels which were invariably oppressed by evil men or wicked beasts.


    She loved me very much, and I remember with tears how she came every morning to the cradle where I slept and, after watching me for a while, gently caressed and kissed me. Many times, even though my mother had a very light step, I would wake up, but I wouldn''t let her know... I would let her love envelop me like a warm, fragrant bath envelops a tired and frostbitten body!


    I had friends among the children in our neighborhood, and sometimes, when I was late for playtime, my mother would come to pick me up, always bringing a big pot full of cookies to share with all my friends. On some occasions, she would return early from her store and join us in our games, acting just like a child and enjoying herself immensely. My mom was so beautiful and so good with the other children that they all loved her madly! But her eyes... I was a child then and didn''t understand much, but they stuck in my memory because they were strange. My mother''s eyes were the eyes of an old woman, with a deep, very deep gaze and sometimes full of an overwhelming sadness. And although she was so young, she had those slight creases around her eyes that people who have been through a lot in life tend to have. Her hands, though caressing and soft, bore in specific places those calluses which now I know well to have come from the long use of a bow with a hard string.


    As far as I remember, she hadn''t befriended any of the town''s inhabitants, not even our neighbors, among whom were two very nice families who tried to get close to us. We had a maid, Anya, and my mother was very fair to her. On her days off, she even helped Anya with the housework, but she was always distant in her dealings with her. Yet to me, my mom was always gentle and kind, no matter how silly I was, may her soul have peace where it is now!


    When I was about five years old, my mother came home one day, visibly distressed, and immediately asked Anya to pack clothes and other belongings for both of us. By evening, we were on our way in the carriage that regularly traveled to the Imperial City. We arrived the next morning. There, my mom rented a modest house in the Waterfront district, right near the docks. As far as I remember, we continued our life there without incident, except that our way of life changed significantly. My mother didn''t hire any help, so she stayed home all day, tending to my needs and the household chores. I didn''t have any friends in the neighborhood. I tried to make friends with the children there, but they were different¡ªmore agile and interested in other things than the childish games that had delighted me back in Bruma. I remember one time when I went outside, beautifully dressed and with a nice toy in my hand. I met a group of children from the Waterfront District and wanted to play with them. They stopped what they were doing, circled around me, and one of them¡ªa brat older than the others¡ªproposed a new game. He told me to give him my toy, close my eyes, cover them with my hands and stay like that until he would told me to open them. Then, he said with a cunning smile, something wonderful would happen. Full of joy, I did as he told me and waited... But no one said anything for quite a long time, and after a while, I decided to open my eyes. I did so, a bit scared because I felt like I was breaking the rules of this new game! As you probably already guessed, no one was around me anymore¡ªnone of those children! I was left very confused and stayed that way until I''ve got home where my mom explained what had happened. Later, after a particularly nasty day when two kids beat me and dragged me through the mud for no reason, my mom wouldn''t allow me to go out of the house by myself anymore. I wouldn''t have wanted to anyway because I was a good and quiet child, eager for the love and friendship of my peers. Besides all that, I didn''t like the surroundings in the Waterfront District. There were many ships arriving and departing every day, a lot of drunk or rowdy sailors, and above all, the odors characteristic of such a harbor¡ªa port serving a huge city that imported many goods and luxuries from overseas. The things that happened there could have been interesting and even entertaining for many children, but not for a child like me. As I told you before, I was a well-behaved and shy little girl, and the love with which my sweet mother, Kiersten, surrounded me made me even more unsuited for such an environment.


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    At some point, my mom started to go out during the night. At first, she didn''t stay out long. She didn''t even let me know that she would be gone, hoping I would sleep peacefully and not miss her. But one night, she came back to find me crying in despair, searching the house for her. She lovingly took me in her arms, caressed and kissed me, chasing away the worries that gripped my heart. My mother Kiersten explained that she had very important errands to run and that, from then on, she might have to be gone for longer periods¡ªsometimes even during the day. I adjusted to the new situation quite easily, and after a while, my mom brought a kitten into the house to keep me company when she was away.


    Oh, I loved that gentle animal from the bottom of my heart! I was fascinated by the kitty''s behavior¡ªits apparent serenity most of the time and its spontaneous, playful reactions. I was heartbroken when the animal disappeared without a trace one day, but that happened some time later. Specifically, it was during a period when my mom was away from home for several weeks. Before she left, she packed a bundle of clothes and toys for me, locked up our house, and took me and the kitten to a young family who lived in the Elven Garden District. The couple was very kind and attentive to me throughout my stay, but my kitten, unaccustomed to the place, disappeared one day after we had been playing in the garden. I was called to lunch, and when I returned, the animal was nowhere to be found. I waited, not worried at first, since it wasn''t the first time it had wandered off. But it never came back, and I suffered terribly when I realized I had lost it forever. I cried and was so distraught that the young woman who was caring for me persuaded her husband to bring me another kitten.But I couldn''t love this one. I couldn''t attach myself to it, and soon, a chilling fear began to creep into my heart¡ªthe fear that my mother would never come back from wherever she had gone. Just as my kitty did!


    Spring had just begun when she left, and now the summer heat was tightly embracing the city in its burning arms... I shuddered every time I heard footsteps through the open window, seemingly approaching our gate! My heart pounded wildly each time the gate or the door opened, and every time, I felt the bitter taste of disappointment and the cold fingers of fear clawing at my soul!But then came the blessed day when my mother, Kiersten, returned! I remember it as if it were yesterday: she arrived in a wonderful robe whitened by the dust of the Empire''s roads, smelling terribly of a sweaty horse, and looking so skinny and gaunt. But my mother''s eyes were shining, and big tears welled up in them as I threw myself, laughing and crying, into her arms. She brought rich and strange gifts for the family that had taken me in, and gave me a wondrous toy¡ªsomething that I now know was made in the remote islands of the South by the Elves. She wept with me as I told her, sobbing, of the disappearance of our kitten. She caressed me and told me that the soul of the dear animal now awaited us both in the land of Nocturnal, where we both were destined to go someday.Then, for the first time in my life, I heard HER name. I didn''t pay much attention to it because I was overwhelmed with joy, the intense happiness caused by the return of my mother Kiersten, whom I thought was lost forever. And my mom never mentioned HER name again, throughout all our time together. In the end, without sitting at the table where our hosts had invited her, without even washing or resting, my mother gathered all my belongings, and together we returned to our cottage in the Waterfront District.


    Once there, we resumed our accustomed life, and everything went on calmly and normally, without any particular events, joys, or sorrows, until I was seven years old, when my mother got married.


    I don''t remember much about my stepfather, except that he seemed very busy and was rarely home. I can''t even manage to build his image in my memory but I am absolutely sure that if I see him again, I will recognize him immediately. I can hear his voice, deep and gravely, I remember his confident and steady gait and I can feel his somewhat rough and careless pats. But that''s all... Because something broke and died within me in the period immediately following, when the most terrible thing that could have happened to me was about to occur. Perhaps my mind is trying to protect me and simply refuses to reveal what is deeply hidden under the black veil of despair, because, not long after they got married, my mother Kiersten was murdered in the dark alleys of the Waterfront District.


    Again, I cannot recall anything from what happened immediately after this terrible event, and I can only suppose that my stepfather disappeared, vanishing into the cloudy, rainy sky... It was autumn back then, this I remember very well! I recall a fresh, modest grave covered by leaves of all colors, wet and pale under the gray light falling from the ashen sky... And on the grave, there was a stone¡ªplain, gray, and rather thin¡ªwithout any marks or signs. A little girl was there, embracing the stone. She stayed there, wet and cold, all day long, holding the stone close and speaking to her mother...


    The lone coffin slept profoundly,


    ''Neath funeral garb and leaden bloom.


    I stood, a shadow by the grave¡ª


    The wind howled softly through the gloom,


    And garlands rustled in their tomb.

 Chapter 2

    There is a time in my life that I believe it will remain as blank, unwritten or maybe erased pages, until my death... I cannot remember the first days or perhaps weeks after the death of my mother Kiersten.Only vague and blurred images haunt my memory, no matter how hard I try...Out of the deep fog that shrouds this part of my memory, there sometimes appears a middle-aged woman, small of stature and with a pained look on her face pouring milk into a bowl placed on the table in our cottage.I know it is our table because it is wrapped with the fabric my mother Kiersten brought with her among the things she had taken from Bruma.


    There were two deer embroidered on it, the mother and the cub, and I used to think the cub was particularly cute... I always took pleasure in watching the mother doe gently beckoning her young one to eat.Ah, my mother Kiersten had even made up a little tale about this scene to persuade me to take a bite when I was picky and didn''t want to eat! Then I see the same woman weeping, looking with pity at me, and carefully hanging a little bag of gray, dirty cloth around my neck.Then I feel her holding my hand, I see her opening the gate of our little garden, and then before my eyes is the narrow, damp lane where our little house in the Waterfront District used to be.


    It''s raining and it''s chilly, a light mist hovers over the face of the world and I am cold... Cold and frightened, maybe because I was terribly afraid of the naughty children lurking in the streets of our neighborhood.I see with a sharp sense of sorrow a gravestone and feel the chill emanating from its shiny, wet surface. Then a tall, burly man with a thick black beard that covers most of his face, appears.His voice sounds loud and harsh in the gray twilight that falls on the cemetery wrapped in the cold, dull rain...


    And after that, I see a fire cheerfully burning in a small fireplace on top of which there is a pot in which the man with a harsh voice is stirring with a large wooden spoon.The room is very small and there is only a primitive bed and a wooden table with crooked legs...


    Then I recall cold mornings, some of them rainy of the kind where the dampness soaks the body to the bone, others clear and crisp, with high, pure blue skies.And I feel pain and fear, I feel overwhelming physical pain and I see blood and then faces of children laughing... The children are dressed in rags and their eyes have a hard, mature look! A pleasant torpor and strange dreams, a dull and steady but not unbearable pain and strange dreams again.... I hear harsh voices and feel harsh hands picking me up and then being carried in strong arms, my face pressed against a hardened leather armor...


    The first clear memories I have are of the life I lived in an orphanage outside the Imperial City, on the shores of Lake Rumare, right next to the fortress that those who have traveled through these places know as Fort Nikel. Both the orphanage and the stronghold belonged to the Order of Stendarr and to me these places have a frightening significance, probably due to the fact that years later I was going to be imprisoned in the fort prison, in conditions worthy of the most horrible nightmare.However, the orphanage itself should not have inspired such fear. It was well-organized, clean, and relatively welcoming, at least as welcoming as a place like that could be. The staff of the institution consisted mainly of sisters of the Order who worked hard to give the orphans a decent life and teach us various crafts.The cult of Stendarr, well, the cult of Stendarr as his Order on Nirn understands it, was also of great significance in this establishment.But for a child like me and, on top of that, still under the influence of a terrible shock, the orphanage was by no means a welcoming refuge.


    When I was brought here by a City Guard patrol, I was badly injured and seriously ill. I must have been close to death because I spent a long time in the infirmary. The Sisters took good care of me, and I remember an old, imposing man with a beard who came to my bedside from time to time. He always gave me a spoonful of something that tasted horrible... But eventually I got better and took my place among the children who lived in the orphanage.Our schedule was very strict and every day there was invariably a succession of activities in which we had to take part. We had to wake up very early in the morning and staying in bed after the nun on duty would open our bedroom door was strictly forbidden and punishable.We had to wash ourselves afterwards and always with cold water and I remember the icy chills that I felt because it was winter then, in the first days which I spent as a guest of the orphanage.


    Then we had to make our beds and thoroughly clean the room in which we slept before attending the morning liturgy in the chapel.The service was always led by the same priest, a stern-looking fighting monk from the Order. His sermons were usually short and presented Stendarr as a God who mercilessly punishes any mistakes or misbehavior of his worshipers.These orations, combined with the big mace he carried and his figure which was more the face of a fighter than a priest, made me perceive Stendarr as a harsh and merciless deity; one that rather punishes than forgives, constrains rather than teaches, hurts instead of healing its broken, weaker subjects... I couldn''t love such a deity and I was only frightened by it!


    But I don''t believe his words had the desired effect on all the children who took part in the ceremony because in the back of the hall, always in the same place, there was a group that was having a good time in a discreet enough way for the priest, absorbed in his fiery tirades, not to notice.


    After the liturgy we would go in close formation to the refectory where the first meal of the day was served. The food was abundant and, even though it was generally tasteless, you could clearly see that the sisters tried to make it as varied as possible. Once we had eaten, the daily activities began and they lasted, almost without exception, all day long, with a short break for lunch.They varied according to the age of the children and, after a certain age, their sex.Because in this orphanage lived children with ages between five and fifteen years.


    After this age, all the children, without exception, left the orphanage and on this occasion the Sisters of the Order organized a small celebration. I have taken part in several such festivities and I can say that everything was organized with a lot of common sense and good faith.The children who left received a set of new clothes and small gifts from the orphanage administration and, while the other children sang a hymn praising Stendarr, they departed the institution with the priest''s blessing. That gladiator-looking priest with a huge mace on his hip... There were rumors circulating among the orphans, whispers that the brightest children who left the institution were given the chance to join the Order of Stendarr. And all the children were eager for this distinction so, in general and especially in appearance, discipline and order within the institution was easily maintained by the ever-present hope of the weak and poor that they would be able to climb a little up the social ladder. Of course, each of the numerous aspirants would adopt his own method to achieve the final goal, and not always the most honest one! As far as I am concerned, however, I can say that this method did not work. In the short time I spent in the orphanage I never wanted to become one of the Sisters of the Order of Stendarr.


    And even if I had wanted this distinction, I would not have been able to receive it because I was not at all suited for the life and the different kinds of activities that were going on there.The religious services, so frequent and frightening for me at the beginning, terribly boring afterwards, did not please me at all and I would have liked to be in the group that, in the back of the hall, was having so much fun. But there were only boys there and I could never have been among them because the girls and boys in the orphanage lived completely separately and only at religious services did they get together for a short time.The work I was required to do daily was too hard or boring for me and our life schedule became unbearable for me after my wounds had completely healed. The Sisters were not slow to notice my laziness and disinterestedness and consequently soon integrated me into the group of girls who worked in the institution''s laundry.Generally, this is where the most unpromising, lazy and wicked orphans were sent...There was a lot of work in the laundry because the orphanage cleaned the clothes of the fairly well-to-do inhabitants of the Imperial City. There were also responsible activities here, because pressing men''s shirts and women''s underwear with a hot iron is a laborious and dangerous work at the same time. I didn''t manage to perform as expected even in this place; on the contrary, I even caused damages and the nun who was in charge of this activity started to despise me and, a little later, to hate me.Her behavior could be easily understood by anyone; hard work overwhelmed me and I couldn''t cope with it, and for the so-called light, fine work, I was completely inexperienced. And, to tell the truth, I was lazy and utterly disinterested. It is absolutely normal that the punishments against me began to increase and become progressively harder and more humiliating. The other girls were quick to see me as the outcast of the group and started to make jokes at my expense and sometimes even to hinder my work which was already unbearable for me. On top of all these, an unfortunate coincidence made two of these girls who worked in the laundry to be my dormitory mates, and they extended their fun at my expense even during my sleeping and resting hours, following me everywhere and insulting me, soiling my food when the nun who watched us was not present or attentive, and going so far that they sometimes ruined even the little work I managed to do well. They disturbed my night''s sleep with all kinds of sinister jokes and one day they sneaked back into the dormitory after we had gathered to attend the religious service and messed up my bed that I had so carefully arranged. I was harshly punished by the nun on duty for this so-called negligence from my part and when I tried to explain through tears that I''ve had done my duty, she increased my punishment.


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    I was in despair and in pain; I was weak and suffering from a morbid fatigue because some of the harsher punishments were partially or totally suppressing my daily food.My poor body, so small and weak and still bearing the scars left by the attack that had almost killed me, was now full of bruises due to the numerous corporal punishments I had endured. One day the two friends, for those girls were very good friends now, came upon me on the road they knew I had to walk on, carrying a basket full of washed, ironed and pressed laundry, ready to be delivered to the customers.They stopped me and while one of them immobilized me by holding my hands tightly, the other snatched the basket and dumped its entire content in the mud at the edge of the alley. Then, laughing and having great fun, they trampled all the laundry underfoot, mixing it with the dirty water and mud. I was filled with despair and fear because I knew that I would be punished with the utmost severity for what had happened.But at the same time, a new feeling , unknown to me before, grew in my soul. The thought of the terrible injustice that I was enduring made anger and hatred grow in me and I felt the desire to harm those who tormented and wronged me! I charged so suddenly and ferociously that the first girl immediately rolled on the muddy ground, hitting her head on a rock beside the road.Left alone, the other one hesitated, even though she was bigger than me. So I hit her as hard as I could with my little fists, and when she ran away screaming, I chased her, caught her and beat her badly.I tore her hair and scratched her, and I think I would have put out her eyes if two nuns who were passing had not stopped me.


    I was immediately brought in front of the Prioress who ran the institution.Sister Sescia was a mature woman and a former fighter of the Order.In those times, few of the Sisters were accepted among the fighting members and only the Great War that decimated the men made their number increase dramatically in recent times.But beyond her martial allure and her rugged figure was a wise and generous soul. Now I suppose that, if I''ve meet her earlier, I would have been able to live just as the other children did in the orphanage under Sescia''s benevolent care! But for me it was already too late, that moment passed...The violent and untamed blood of my ancestors had just been awakened and was boiling with rage and anger.And, on top of that, I felt absolutely no guilt for what I had just done.On the contrary, something inside me was screaming loudly that I still had much to avenge and that I had paid only a small part of the debts I felt I owed.


    In any case, at that moment I was very impressed by the Prioress''s stature and especially by her piercing look.And when she questioned me about what had happened I answered politely, as my beloved mother Kiersten had taught me, but short and cold, just to the point.I didn''t get lost in details, I didn''t cry or whine.And all the time I looked Sescia straight in the eyes. I think the Prioress was also impressed by my words and behavior because her eyes became kind and she said briefly, "A quarrel between children, make sure it doesn''t happen again". So, I was free to go and I went back to my chores and things went on normally that day except that my other colleagues now looked at me with a kind of respect and the nun who was supervising us became more lenient with me. My two oppressors were both in the infirmary of the institution so I had a few quiet days, and when one of them, the one who had run away, was discharged and resumed her work, she avoided me and gave me fearful looks when she was around me. But things were soon to change as the girl who hit her head never fully recovered from the trauma of the brain injury she had suffered during her fall.She soon regained consciousness but was unable to walk and her reasoning was severely disturbed as she was no longer able to understand the words of those around her.The administration of the orphanage soon made the decision that she would undergo a strange surgical procedure, new in the medical art and following this surgery, although at first it seemed that she had fully recovered, after three days the girl died.


    The superior leadership of the Order of Stendarr was then informed of the whole affair and its consequences and decided to set up a special tribunal to try the matter.In the meantime, while awaiting the trial, the behavior of my colleagues towards me changed and one night a couple of girls in my bedroom, no doubt instigated by my surviving enemy, attacked me while I was asleep. Although I was sleep-drowsy, I managed to successfully fend them off and was so wild in the fight that after a short while they retreated.But one of the girls and I myself had been quite badly injured and my sheets were soaked in blood that the traces of our confrontation were discovered the next morning by the nun on duty. As a result, we were both brought before the Prioress and, of course, our stories were very different, me telling the truth and the other girl lying through her teeth and claiming that I was the one who attacked her; she also stated that many girls in our dormitory had witnessed the fight and could confirm her words. Sister Sescia did not investigate the matter further and decided that, pending the trial, I was to be locked up in a room intended for this purpose.The room was small and extremely austerely furnished but, like all the spaces in the orphanage, it was very clean and had a large enough window.Extremely surprising for me, during my detention I was very well cared for. The doctor of the institution carefully treated my wounds and my body which was so frail and sore from all the punishments I had suffered; the fire was always burning during the day in the little stove in the corner of the room and I was fed from the Sisters'' ration.Moreover, a nice young nun came every morning and made my bed, cleaned the room and always brought me a glass of sweetened milk which she made me drink right then and there in front of her.


    My confinement, so pleasant and restful after the life I had led for the last few months, lasted quite a long time, long enough for me to fully recover from the state of physical weakness I had reached. But, at the same time, my soul began to soften again and I often cried bitter tears for my beloved mother Kiersten. I dreamt about her so often during the night that most mornings I woke up in tears and terribly disappointed that my meeting with my mother had only happened in a dream.Ah, dreams... Dreams are a great mystery and Nocturnal herself doesn''t know or doesn''t want to say anything about them!Dreams can sometimes hurt our souls more than reality can... The young nun who brought me milk often found me weeping forlornly, and, as she began to love me, she was always taking me in her arms and trying to soothe my sufferings.But all these, the good treatment and the caressing, only weakened the dark strength that had begun to grow in my soul! So, on the day of the trial I behaved foolishly and, when asked to relate my own version of the incident that was being investigated, I was incoherent and cried almost constantly, frightened to death by the portrayal of the presiding judge who was himself the Grand Master of the Order of Stendarr, Ser Gregorius Clegius. Almost all testimonies were negative against me, portraying me as a lazy, lying, violent and disobedient girl... The doctor of the institution was among the last heard witnesses and he repeated and emphasized that the death of my colleague could not be blamed on me because the girl had died following a new and dangerous surgery procedure and not because of the blow received in the confrontation between us. It was the Prioress who spoke the last words before the court, in fact the Grand Master, pronounced the sentence.She looked at me first with sadness and disappointment and then said that, in spite of the fact that I am such a clumsy and wicked girl, she believes that she can bring me back to the right and good path, the path blessed by Stendarr, if I am entrusted to her for re-education.


    And then Ser Gregorius Clegius loudly ordered everyone present to rise to their feet.Then, sitting in the large chair in which he sat, he looked at me with contempt and said that he condemned me to death by hanging.The whole hall sighed with relief, there were even a few small shouts of approval but Ser Gregorius banged the wooden hammer on the table and added:


    -The execution of the sentence is postponed for half a year.In the meantime, I entrust the named Elsie to the honorable Prioress Sescia who will bear full responsibility for the deeds that the murderess will do during this time.Do you take this responsibility, Prioress?


    -Yes, I do! replied Sescia with a firm voice and looking Ser Gregorius in the eyes.


    -I declare the session closed!" said the Grand Master then, looking bored, got up from his chair and left the hall amid the disappointed murmurs of the audience.


    I was taken back to the room where I had been confined until then and for a few days life went on as before, except that the young nun who had become attached to me no longer came and in her place was an old Sister who did not speak to me; she practically acted as if I did not exist. The sentence pronounced by Ser Gregorius had made almost no impression on me; instead, the hostility I felt from the orphaned children present in the courtroom pained and stunned me deeply.And once again, the anger provoked by the injustice I was convinced was being done to me made my blood boil and my mind go dark!


    And one morning Prioress Sescia came in place of the old nun.She closed the door carefully behind her and after sitting on my bed she called me to stay by her side.She looked me straight in the eyes and I could see pity and sadness in her eyes and, while gently caressing me, she said:


    -You will leave this morning with a group of children that I am sending to clean the city streets of the snow that fell during the night.Don''t come back here again! During the day, find an opportunity and get lost among the people on the city alleys.Now put on the clothes I brought you and over them, the orphanage uniform. In the city, the first chance you get after you run away, change them in between so that you will never be seen in our uniform.And look for the entrance to the city sewer in the south side of the Talos Plaza District, the sewer is always warmer in the winter! Stendarr be with you!


    She sighed, got up and spread the contents of the satchel she had brought with her on the bed, then gave me a small purse containing twenty septims, stroked my hair and left... The Prioress stopped in the doorway and looked back at me and when I saw the glance she gave me, I smiled and opened my mouth to thank her.But Sescia, may her god be always with her, smiled in return and put a finger to her lips.


    This was the first time when I saw our Prioress smiling and her smile, so warm and friendly, gave me strength and courage. I did everything as she told me and I went out in the orphanage yard. It was a sunny morning, a cold and sunny morning, and all the fresh snow around was shimmering in the bright sunlight like thousands of diamond splinters scattered all over the place.Oh, it was just like so many other mornings I''ve seen in Bruma when I was so happy to see snow, fresh snow, inviting me to play and erect intricate buildings and cities under the glaring sunshine.My soul was filled with joy and I waited patiently for the other children nominated for the activity to gather in the courtyard.

 Chapter 3

    Freedom... This is the word that comes to my mind now, as I dip my pen in ink and begin to write the first words of this chapter.


    I had an extraordinary sense of relief as I stepped under the archway of the orphanage gates; I remember following the long string of children who were walking in a long column, two by two. And right in front of me there were even three girls holding hands because nobody wanted to go with me. But after a short while, Sister Lenora, the young nun who had taken a fancy to me, came to my side and took me by the hand. I looked at her curiously and then I saw her warm smile and her brown eyes staring at me lovingly. I smiled in my turn and squeezed tighter the warm hand that had chased away the few gloomy thoughts that had stained my joy of that winter morning. Our well-ordered and almost soldier-like column strode at a brisk pace across the bridge that crosses the Rumare Lake towards the large, richly ornamented gates of the Imperial City. Below us, the lake was rippling its waters softly and in some places, towards the shores, we could see frozen surfaces on which the freshly fallen snow formed some interesting structures. All the sky was pure blue, deep, and without a cloud to roam its depths. Only far to the south, a light mist seemed to tremble over the ancient woods, now immersed in heavy snow, which dominated the shores of Lake Rumare.


    We entered the city which was dressed in a thick white mantle and in a magical silence, specific to mornings like this. It was a holiday day and the freshly fallen heavy snow had kept most of the city''s inhabitants in their homes, at least for a while. We began to clear the city streets right near the great gates, and I remember the joy of this work, which, though not very easy, was so much like a game for all the girls. So, in a short time, starting from a simple accident when one of the girls had accidentally splashed the content of her shovel on another, a general snow-battle began. The girls, cheerful and with their faces red, were now rolling in the soft powder, laughing and enjoying the fresh snowfall. Even one of the nuns accompanying us had joined their game! I was looking sadly at them and I would have liked very much to participate in their play... But the childish games were already over for me and Sister Lenora came, took my shovel and whispered: "Go now Elsie! Stendarr be with you!" I smiled at her and sneaked into one of the alleys edged with houses, most of them still with their shutters drawn. Then I ran, struggling with the snow that in some places reached past my knees. I stopped for a short time in a sheltered place and, as Sister Sescia had advised me, changed my clothes and then covered my head with the hat I had kept hidden until then.


    I wandered for a while through the city that was beginning to come to life; I was deeply impressed by the extraordinary White-Gold tower, the first Ayleid structure I had ever seen in my life. The palace was open to visitors and I was able to enter without any difficulties. I was amazed by the extraordinary dimensions of the complex, by the vast interior spaces in which the visitors'' footsteps resonated in a strange way for me; the numerous ancient bas-reliefs on the high walls told me strange and beautiful stories, brought to my mind unknown places full of lush vegetation such as I had never seen in my life. My soul vibrated before the paintings and carvings that decorated the many niches that adorned the white walls, so brightly white. I wandered for a long time through the vast reception hall of the palace, ignoring the passage of time! But eventually I got hungry and then I headed for the exit.


    The weather had noticeably warmed up, and the snow-covered rooftops had begun to drip, thin streams of water trickling onto the now soft, slushy ground. There were many people in the palace courtyard where a troupe of traveling acrobats were putting on a show that I found both amusing and astonishing. The juggling and acrobatics they were performing with great skill were something new, never seen before by me. When the fire eater began his act, the crowd pressed in closer, and being as small as I was, I couldn''t see a thing. Disappointed, I tried to weave my way through the people in front of me, but just then, an irresistible scent caught my attention. The aromas came from the stall of a peddler who was baking and selling all kinds of hot pies and pastries, just out of the little mobile oven. There were two people working there, the apprentice who made the pies and baked them with unbelievable speed and the master baker who sold them. Attracted by the mouth-watering scent, many people gathered around the stall, creating a constant rush that gave the bakers no time to rest. I eagerly approached, drawn in by the tantalizing aroma, and my stomach growled in a funny way as I looked forward to tasting one of those warm delights... But there were so many people waiting to buy that when the apprentice pulled out of the oven a tray full of pies and put it on the counter, I simply, serenely took one of them... I did this without thinking and, without leaving, I started eating the pie... Being very busy and tired and maybe for other, much stranger, reasons, the two merchants did not notice. And no other people around me, apart from an old lady who just then bought what she wanted. She quickly sat between me and the counter and ordered two more pies: one with pork and one with cheese. The one I had just stolen was an apple pie...Then she turned to me, gently grabbed me by the shoulders, and whispered: "Don''t eat all of it now, little one, wait till you eat these two first!" and she gave me the two pies he had bought at the end. We then left together, the old lady holding me by hand and watching me from time to time while I was eating my pies quietly. They were really delicious or at least they seemed so to me after the abundant but tasteless food that was served to me in the dining room of the orphanage. Then the old lady asked me if I want more food and I replied that I would very much like to eat something sweet. She smiled and bought a whole bag of glazed chestnuts from another traveling salesman who was selling his merchandise around the palace. Oh, the chestnuts were also hot and I ate them with delight... I hadn''t even been able to eat all of them... And then we stopped near a tearoom where I sipped two big cups from the most excellent hot tea I ever drank. During all this time, the old lady looked at me with interest and curiosity and maybe there was something more than that in her eyes... In my turn, I studied her face and clothes carefully and without timidity and I had the overwhelming feeling that I knew her from somewhere! That I knew her as well as only the closest relatives can know each other... A peculiar feeling came over me, and suddenly I thanked her for her kindness and told that now I had to go and look for my parents. The old lady smiled and told me to go to the Arena District where most of the refugees from Anvil County were temporarily housed. So I got up and left. I stood in the tea room doorway and looked back. The old lady was staring at me with a look in her eyes that had not the slightest hint of a smile. On the contrary, her eyes had the sharpness of steel and seemed to be assessing me with the utmost attention. I shuddered and ran out into the crowded street.


    I was filled with two contradictory sentiments, one of fear and the other of curiosity, even of attraction towards the old lady who had done me no harm. On the contrary, she had saved me from a dangerous situation... And, as I slipped through the crowd of people that, with the coming of evening, filled the streets of the city, many thoughts began to run through my head. At the orphanage, the priest''s sermons and the moral lessons taught by the Sisters had presented theft as one of the most terrible sins that can be committed by mortals. Perhaps they had even portrayed it as the worst of all sins because I remembered clearly that we were made to repeat daily the words "Do not covet what belongs to another". Very convenient from the point of view of all the rulers of this land, they who always want more, never get enough! But at that moment it became obvious to me that I had committed the worst of sins, as they had been presented to me by my former mentors. However, I didn''t feel guilty about anything, my conscience was as clear as fresh spring water and I even smiled at the thought that I could have taken two pies instead of one... Or perhaps even more and, maybe there were even some coins scattered on the floured counter... At the same time, a feeling of fear overlaid these cheerful thoughts and I suddenly realized that I would have been severely punished by the traders and, probably, by the other people who were around, if I were caught in the act. I stopped my run, and began to pace at a walk, totally absorbed in the flood of thoughts that had stormed my little brain. I was so immersed in my meditations that I bumped into a man coming the other way. When he roughly pushed me away I did not react in any way and my soul was no longer filled with sadness, fear or shame as it would have been before. I just looked after him and chuckled softly thinking about how funny it would be if the grumpy man would slip on the ice and fall...


    As I continued to walk, I felt a strange freedom growing inside me, something like a power that whispered that the commonly accepted rules no longer concerned me. And so, some deeds that had previously seemed unthinkable now appeared natural, even necessary. I didn''t understand it then, nor could I have, but on that first day of my freedom, tremendous changes were happening in the way I looked at the world and at life! I gradually came out of my state of reverie and started to attentively look around me.


    And I saw people, lots of people, women and men, tall northerners with cold eyes, noisy and very cheerful Imperial citizens, delicate Bretons of small stature. Here and there would even appear the extremely intelligent figure and the alert gaze of one of the cat breed, Khajiit as the Imperials call them. I stopped in a sheltered place beneath the gate of a luxurious property and began to watch the human tumult on the street with attention and greed, and it seemed to me that beneath the good mood and cheerfulness that characterized the people on this day of holiday there was a rather ill-concealed anxiety and fear. As if an intense excitement urges a critically ill person to gather his last strength to enjoy life a little longer... Strange things were happening in my mind, which was greedily absorbing all these new sights and sensations. I was really overwhelmed by the sensory information I received; those two women dressed in expensive furs and accompanied by a little Redguard carrying their luggage seem to be very good friends but the brunette one hates and envies her friend... Her look, captured by my greedy eyes, said so much that I was overwhelmed by the wave of sensations! And that tall gentleman with the thinly cropped mustache has no loving thoughts at all for the young lady who hangs on his arm and looks at him with adoration... My brain was receiving so much nourishment from the surrounding metropolitan world that the moment my eager eyes caught sight of a Khajiit who had swiftly and with extreme dexterity snatched the bag of an old and well dressed man, it began to mix the information and combine it in a strange way, giving birth to feelings and impressions unknown to me before. Suddenly, the lights glowed too brightly, sounds seemed to surround me from all directions... Scents mingled in a dizzying storm... Everything was too much, too fast! I turned my back to the street and closed my eyes. I drew a deep breath and tried to recover from the sudden dizziness that had seized me. And when I did, I wondered with curiosity how I would now perceive my former colleagues from the orphanage... Or Sister Lenora and Prioress Sescia! A strange thought crossed my brain and I tried to reconstruct in my mind the figure of my beloved mother Kiersten. But I didn''t succeed at all and instead of her loving, beautiful and wise figure, I could only see with my mind''s eye my own figure, the round and sweet face of a little blond and long-haired girl... I was frightened and saddened at the same time and then I took for the first time in my life the decision to stop thinking for a while about something that deeply disturbed me. And let things flow, sensations and feelings crystallize in the subtle alembic that is the brain... And only then to try to grasp the true meaning of apparently strange and incomprehensible facts. I cautiously walked out from beneath the gate where I had been standing until then and, trying not to let my attention be diverted by the crowd of people on the street, I made my way towards the Arena District.


    In that special quarter of the Imperial City I found even more people than on the streets of the Talos Plaza District. Only that their general condition, their clothing and appearance were very different. The people here were poorly dressed, many of them with their clothes patched or torn; their faces, pale and drawn, bore the weight of unspoken sorrow and the laughter and cheerful shouts from other parts of the city could not be heard near the big Arena. Only a constant hum, occasionally pierced by the cries of small children, reigned over the gray crowd of people who, in the dusk''s dim light, were making their way in disorderly ranks toward the huge cauldrons steaming on the fires set up in the neighborhood. I tried not to mingle with the sad crowd, which caused me an uneasy feeling of fear crossed by impulses of curiosity, and, carefully avoiding the puddles covered with brown snow, trampled by thousands of feet, I walked towards the enormous stone and wooden circus that sheltered the Arena. Oh, this is another of the impressive constructions that adorn the Imperial City! The high walls that looked ashen in the early winter twilight, the large bronze gates that, when opened, resembled the ravening jaws of a prehistoric monster, and the small, oval, barred openings that corresponded to cells where animals of all kinds brought from the farthest corners of the Empire were temporarily kept, all these elements gave an astonishing impression of power and wealth! And indeed the Arena is a symbol of the former undisputed power and glory of an Empire which was now living its last years! As I was far from understanding the political aspects that dominated Tamriel at the time, I could only admire the enormous structure, an undeniable proof of the skill and wealth of the people who lived here, in the largest city on the continent. In those early days I couldn''t fathom the function of this huge edifice, nor could I imagine the tumult of the ecstatic crowds in front of the cruel spectacles in which men and beasts kill, injure and maim each other just for the entertainment of a decadent people! I later witnessed such a so-called entertainment, and I can firmly state that it is one of the most disgusting, shameful and harmful distractions that can be offered to a people in order to make them not to notice or forget the serious matters that are plaguing a society at a given time.


    But to me, on that first day of freedom, the hundreds of huge tents and bunkhouses hastily erected in a vacant area of the district were much more interesting; there was once a park whose trees had been cut down to make room for the temporary shelters that housed thousands of refugees who, after a grueling journey, had arrived here, in the heart of the Empire. As I found out that day, they were all from the county of Anvil, which had been overrun by the Dominion''s light cavalry. From what was rumored throughout the neighborhood, the elves were looting and burning all the small, unwalled towns in the county and Anvil itself was besieged by the Dominion infantry. I didn''t understand much of what the people around me were saying, but their looks and sadness, the tears of those who had lost relatives and loved ones in the dreadful strikes were enough to make me realize that terrible things were happening somewhere in the Imperial lands.


    That evening, however, I wanted only to find a safe place to sleep because the day spent in the midst of so many new sensations had made me terribly tired and my mind was still confused. A few Sisters of the Order of Stendarr were sharing blankets to those who came to take shelter in the precarious lodgings and I managed to get one and find a relatively quiet corner where I slept without dreams until sunrise. I woke up in the midst of people who were waking up noisily, eager to receive the morning meal that the Order was serving freely to refugees. I sat at the end of a long line of people and when I finally reached the huge steaming cauldron, I was handed a canteen filled with a thin and hot stew which, although barely more than water with a few floating beans, spread warmth through my frozen limbs. In any case, I had never eaten such miserable food in my life and, adding this reality to the uncomfortable way in which I had spent the night, I decided that I had to find another refuge. And that as soon as possible... But as I found out pretty soon, finding a new and more convenient shelter was not such an easy task. And, after all, no one here was making me work or attend boring religious services! Besides, I was free to leave or return to the Arena complex as I wished so I remained there for a while, time in which I started to learn and practice very useful things for a girl in my situation.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I wandered then the streets of the Imperial City and I was amazed by the many interesting things that could be seen or heard here. I spent many afternoons and evenings in the crowded taverns of the city and heard many stories and new things about lands of the Empire that I didn''t even know that existed. I tried my luck and skill at the begging trade; there were so many beggars in front of the Temple of the One on holy days and there were so many feast days in those happy times! As the free food I received from the refugee rations was insufficient and not to my liking, at first I bought various supplements using the money given to me by Prioress Sescia or, when the situation allowed it, by stealing food from the counters. There were a few situations when the merchant or one of his customers noticed me trying to steal goods but I always managed to run and escape the danger...


    And so, the days passed one after the other, winter was coming to an end and the number of refugees arriving in the Imperial City was increasing steadily. The money given to me by Prioress Sescia ran out sooner than expected. The clothes she had gifted me began to tear, and soon I found myself blending into the gray, hungry, and dirty crowd that roamed the city''s streets by day. But even the Imperial City itself changed in those few months. Some streets started to smell of decay and desperation, the scent of unwashed bodies and stale bread clinging to the air like a bad memory and the well-dressed, cheerful, people were gradually replaced by hungry and desperate beings mingling with all sorts of villains. Therefore the number of crimes committed in the city had increased so much that a partial curfew had been instituted; that meant that walking or staying on the city streets between sunset and sunrise was forbidden to refugees; carrying of weapons of any kind by non-residents of the city was also strictly forbidden. The City Guard being considered both insufficient and totally ineffective in combating the crime wave, Stendarr''s Order was given charge of the matter on request.


    So, at the same time as the gray and poverty-stricken wave swept over the city, a new wave, this time black and equipped with heavy clubs and even crossbows, invaded all the neighborhoods. The Order''s fighting monks were brought in from all over the Empire and, after a short so-called special training at Fort Nikel, were put in charge of patrolling the streets and maintaining order in the metropolis. Totally different from the old soldiers who made up the City Guard till then, the monks of the Order were extremely harsh and not shy to punish certain crimes on the spot. After all, the judicial system of the Imperial City had been over saturated with lawsuits and was considered insufficient to deal with the new and numerous crimes that were plaguing the once so peaceful and cheerful districts of the great city. The Special Court of the Order, which had previously dealt only with internal matters, began trying a large number of offenses. Eventually, it handled all cases involving murder, theft, robbery, illegal night-time wandering, brawls, and even tavern fights. And the Order managed, to a significant degree, to change the atmosphere of the Imperial City, bringing about a sense of safety and calm for its citizens, who had been teetering on the edge of despair because the war that had recently begun had ravaged the fertile farmlands of Anvil County, driving food prices ever higher. By early summer, much of the city''s peace and order had been restored. New refugees were no longer being allowed inside the city walls but were directed instead to a vast camp set up in the southeast, beyond the capital. Additionally, the Order launched an effort to identify and register the refugees living in the Arena District, with plans to deport most of them from the metropolis. Orphaned children, meanwhile, were to be sent to the orphanage at Fort Nikel... But for me, there was no going back; at the time, I had almost forgotten that I had been sentenced to death by the Order''s tribunal, but the words of Prioress Sescia echoed in my mind: "Don''t come back here again!"


    So, one day in early summer, I decided not to return to the refugee camp in the Arena District and instead spent the night in a crumbling warehouse in the Merchant District. What followed were some of the hardest days of my life; days when I often found myself without anything to eat, forced to scavenge through the piles of garbage under the cover of night, hoping to find even a dry crust of bread. Begging had become nearly impossible, as the Order tightly controlled it, allowing it only in a small, designated area near the Temple of the One. And even then, the citizens of the city had grown cold and unfriendly toward those of us who had been displaced, forced to leave behind our homes and embark on the harsh, sorrowful path of wandering. The merchants were now carefully watching their goods, which were becoming rare and expensive, and not rarely in the larger stores was stationed a fighting monk of the Order. Just the sight of their rugged faces and the huge clubs they wielded made me abandon any thought of theft. On top of that, the place of the wave of villains and desperate people that had haunted the city until then had been taken by a lot of ragged and hungry children who roamed the streets of the city alone or in small gangs. Most of them came from the ranks of refugees from Anvil County but there were among them also children of poor local families. On the one hand these vagrant children made my life difficult but on the other hand they were like an excellent training ground for me... You see my friends, these children were not those so experienced and dangerous urchins roaming the narrow winding alleys of the Waterfront District... The great majority of them were children of peasants, neither good nor bad. Like me, they were not experienced in all the habits and tricks characteristic of those who sometimes haunt the streets of big cities. They were just hungry and above all they feared the orphanage of the Order. At first, I tried to keep as far away as possible from groups of such children, but this was difficult; like me, they were very interested in the temporary garbage dumps of the neighborhoods and the fruit trees in the public parks that were just starting to bear fruits. So a lot of the times I was beaten and robbed of the few bits and scraps I could gather. Also, finding a relatively quiet place to rest during the night became very difficult for me. Once again a morbid fatigue had begun to embrace me in its moist, misty wings; the severe underfeeding, the tormented sleep, often interrupted and fragmented by numerous moments during which I had to run in despair, pursued by other children or by the vigilantes of the Order who had found my temporary resting-place, the countless beatings I received when I tried to defend the poor crust of bread I held in my weak little fist, all these had turned me into a skeletal, fever-eyed little thing.


    But in spite of all these terrible difficulties, I never despaired! And I began to creep at night through the now constantly open windows of people''s houses and steal food. I remember that on the first such attempt I was so weak that I climbed with difficulty through the very close-to-the-ground window of a poor house where a lonely old woman lived. I knew that because I had often seen the old woman sitting in the sun on a stool in the small, neglected little garden of her house. She was very old and thin and had a soft, sad look... Once in the house, I crept as silently as I could past the narrow bed from which the old woman''s labored breathing could be heard, and slipped a large loaf of bread and some cheese from a large, deeply cracked plate on the corner table. I was very surprised to notice that the darkness was not as deep as I would have expected and that only the smell of the cheese and even of the bread had been strong enough to guide me to the place where they were. I sat down on the floor, right next to the crooked legs of the table and started to greedily munch. Ah, I was so happy... I didn''t get up until I had finished eating and then, with infinite care, I snuck to a small, cheap wooden cupboard. I opened the door and found two apples, which I pocketed. Under a clumsily embroidered cloth, I discovered two septims and a few copper coins... I took them and carefully climbed out of the window...


    I was so pleased by the easiness with which I had gotten food that, at the moment, I didn''t reflect on the strange way in which sight and smell had served me in that circumstance. Nor did I take into account the fact that, just then, I was able to hear the soft footsteps of a mouse passing with some business of its own through the old woman''s garden... I was far more preoccupied by the fact that, as the sky was beginning to glow slightly towards dawn, from the neighborhood square came the overwhelming scent of warm bread. Guided by the wonderful aromas, ah, even now when I have everything a woman could wish I think the odor of fresh bread is the most wonderful and disturbing smell in the mortal world, I found the bakery through the door of which came waves of warmth and aroma. I approached cautiously and looked in. On a long table just near the open door were huge trays of hot, wonderful, golden, loaves of bread! I slowly slipped in and grabbed a huge loaf of bread and then I ran away, followed by the shouts of the baker who had come out of the doorway holding the huge shovel with he manipulated the loaves in the oven. I burst into laughter and ran faster and full of joy! A little later I stopped suddenly near a cobbler''s shop and let myself slip like a shadow through the open hatch of the cellar. It was cool inside, a welcome coolness in the humid heat of that hot summer night. And it smelt of leather, quality leather, a subtle fragrance that was very pleasant to me... I slipped through the bundles of wares and after I had munched a quarter of the wonderful bread I had just stolen, I fell into a deep and refreshing sleep. I woke up only towards evening; the hum of the city was reverberating all the way to the cellar where I was and the diffuse light of dusk filtered through the narrow hatchway. I devoured a piece of bread and then rushed out into the light.


    I longed to eat some meat, I felt the need for meat overwhelming me and the feeling was almost painful. So I entered the first butcher''s shop I met on the way, I proudly put a septim on the counter and asked for sausages, pork sausages, those wonderful, thick, fat and full of spices sausages! The shopkeeper, a dry little man, with a pale greenish face and thin lips, took the coin, tried it in his teeth, and then looked at me with a wicked smile. "Where did you steal it from, you brat? Get out of here before I call the guard..." he whispered in a soft voice and looking at me with his yellow eyes that were like slits now. I tried to object but the butcher quickly pulled a club from behind the counter and hit me with it. I fled, I fled crying and moaning and didn''t stop until the protective shade of a high fence fell over me. I wiped the tears and blood from my face with my apron which was a real rag now and I walked off down the street where the shadows of the torrid dusk were descending like velvet curtains. I went hesitatingly towards the Elven Garden District where I knew there was a large garden full of vegetation. I was in pain and especially the thought that I could have been so stupid made me suffer. A small success had so easily caused me to let down my guard, to think that I belonged again to the crowd of ordinary people who were now wandering leisurely through the sun-scorched streets of the city... I saw one of them right in front of me; he was as drunk as drunk could be and was coming towards me grinning stupidly and shaking his legs... I froze on the spot and watched him carefully. He was a middle-aged man, relatively small of stature, with a neatly trimmed beard and big brown, teary eyes like most drunks have. I had nowhere to run so I waited, tense and careful but not scared. When he reached me, I saw him take his right hand out of his pocket and hold it out to me... Without judgment, just by instinct, I dashed past him and swept his right leg from under him. He collapsed just like a chopped down tree and groaned deeply when he hit the hard, cobblestone pavement. I laughed, a cold, dry laugh as I watched him struggling hard to get up... But the laughter suddenly froze on my lips when I saw what the unfortunate man had in his hand. A silver coin rolled not far from the body of the man who could not stand up... And then, probably for the last time in my life, I was tempted to help my fellow man in distress, the man who had wanted to give me a coin. But I recalled the butcher''s club... And then I shrugged, grabbed the coin and ran away, limping as quickly as I could. I avoided people, whenever I saw them in front of me, I tried to hide and sneaked into the shadows of the walls of the surrounding houses, in the doorways of the gardens or behind an old tree trunk.


    When I arrived in front of the house where a year ago I had waited for my mother Kiersten, I stopped and looked over the low fence. The garden was full of flowers and the sycamore tree in the yard was a little taller than when I had played in its shade with my dear kitten. It was also full of ripe fruit; the owners were wealthy people and the modest fruits of this tree were of no interest to them... A strange song, sweet and bitter at the same time, almost a melopee, sung by the low, deep voice of a woman could be heard through the open window of the dwelling. I did not recognize the voice of the young woman who had so lovingly cared for me, so, intrigued, after looking carefully around me, I climbed the fence, wincing with pain. My left shoulder, where the butcher''s club had left a large bruise, throbbed with pain and I crouched to the ground to catch my breath. My body was shaking with pain but I gritted my teeth and crawled towards the wall of the house. I stood up slowly and peered out of the window. The room was shrouded in partial darkness, the only source of light being a long, thick, white wax candle, one of those very expensive candles that are only used on special occasions by wealthy people. They usually contain expensive spices brought from the remote southern islands in their composition and their burning spreads overwhelming, strange, sweet or musk-like fragrances... Sometimes, in the case of the very special exemplars, all these scents at once or in turn, according to how they were made. The room seemed identical to the one in which I had played so many times in the past with my benevolent hostess, but on the table in the middle of it was a coffin. A small, narrow coffin, as for a child. Seated with her back to the window through which I cautiously watched, a woman with long white hair was chanting that strange song that had drawn me into the garden. I stood and watched, immersed in the subtle scents spread by the candle. The strange song pierced my soul with a terrible force and conjured up images that were truly overwhelming.


    I saw with my mind''s eye a stout woman with dark, terrible eyes, unblinking eyes that had the hardness of steel. The woman held a dagger in her left hand and snuck up behind a well-dressed old man who was strolling carelessly down a snowy city street. It was snowing heavily, and I could hear the wind whistling as it whirled through the strangely shaped houses, unseen by me before. And the woman made a long, graceful, feline leap and grabbed the old man by the neck with her right hand. She raised the dagger and... A terrible dizziness overcame me and I shook all over!


    Then another woman came into my mind, a tall and very thin woman, dressed in a strange robe, of undefined color and resembling the waves of the sea, as it seemed to move and have a life of its own. On her head she wore a dark blue hood, embroidered with silver runes that glittered silently in the twilight. The woman was standing with her back to me, rummaging in a large iron cupboard from which she was pulling out all sorts of shiny things that she put in the pouch she had hanged around her neck. Suddenly, as if she sensed my eager gaze, she turned and... A new sensation of choking came over me!


    Then I saw myself , not as I really was in that particular day, but decently and cleanly dressed, with my hair neatly combed and washed, so pure that it looked like silk. My eyes were closed and I was lying with my hands on my chest in the small coffin lying on the table in the twilight room!

 Chapter 4

    -Come in, why are you standing there?


    The voice of the woman who had been chanting suddenly woke me up from the nightmare I was experiencing. The bruised shoulder was hurting me badly now and in the shadows of the dusk, strange luminaries seemed to shimmer around me. I tried my best to regain my senses and mumbled:


    -I don''t want to!


    -Why? Are you shy? Do I have to lie down on the couch and fall asleep for you to have the nerve to come in? said the woman softly.


    I looked at her and a new shudder trembled my being. It was that old lady who had bought me goodies on the first day of my freedom. I felt like I tasted the hot pies and the chestnuts, I felt the sweet tea warming my insides again.


    I tried to get up and I did so with difficulty, clinging desperately to the window ledge through which I was peering in. My legs were trembling and my whole body seemed to be gripped by a devouring fever. I looked again at the woman who was watching me curiously. I repeated in my mind that I had no reason to fear her and that she was the only being who could help me now.


    But that wasn''t enough to completely dispel the terror that had taken hold of me the moment I looked into her eyes. Deep and without expression now, they commanded me to move, to come close to her. But the pain that made me wince was too intense so I murmured feebly:


    -I can''t walk! It hurts...


    -Well, then crawl! Don''t just stand there staring at me...


    She said in a flat voice.


    I did so and after a time that seemed like an eternity, I managed to reach the room where the woman was. I stopped and looked up at her. Her eyes had lost their strange look and were again the eyes of a kindly old woman who was looking at me gently. Only her long, shiny, flowing hair, was in dissonance with the general image...


    She gently grabbed me by the armpits and sat me on a stool next to the table. She then unbuttoned my blouse, carefully undressed me and then sighed:


    -A dislocated shoulder and maybe a broken rib. But, if you''re lucky, maybe it''s only the shoulder. Let''s see...


    She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a clay jar from which she took out a bright green ointment with a strong minty odor. Carefully, she smeared it on my shoulder and the pain suddenly, miraculously, diminished. She sat down on a chair and looked at me quietly. I felt my brain clearing up and after a few moments the chills of fever stopped. By then the fear had completely left me and I looked curiously at the old lady.


    -Are we done? Can I go now?


    She chuckled and said:


    -No! The most painful thing is only now to come! But I''m going to ask you to be a good girl and not to start yelling! It won''t take long... Here, hold this between your teeth!


    And she pulled out a short and rather thick stick from her bag. I think it was made of wood, but a strange wood, maybe brought from the South Seas, supple and rather soft but very resilient.


    With smooth, precise maneuvers, she put my shoulder back into place in a single movement. The pain was excruciating, so intense that my whole body was drenched in sweat, as if I had just come out of the water after bathing. I bit down hard on the stick but I couldn''t pierce it with my teeth. I stood there, stunned and looking at the woman with tears in my eyes. I was sure I was going to die, the pain was so intense... And then my coffin was waiting on the table, right there, next to us...


    But the pain suddenly ceased and on the table... Well, on the table was only a vase with exotic flowers, the candlestick in which the candle was burning and a plate full of fruit! I smiled shyly and tried to move. I felt numerous stings in my bruised shoulder, as if it were a pin cushion in which hundreds of needles had been stuck, but compared to the pains before, it all seemed like nothing.


    -Who are you? What''s your name?


    She burst out laughing and patted me gently on the head.


    -Maria!


    -Maria?! What kind of a name is that? I''ve never heard it before! Are you an Elf? Can I see your ears? I''ve never seen Elvish ears but I''ve heard they''re very cute!


    She stopped laughing and looked at me harshly. However, I felt that she was holding her laughter with difficulty and that under the severity so well simulated was actually kindness and relief. Relief; that''s strange, I thought then.


    -You are incorrigible, aren''t you, Elsie? Perhaps in a few moments you will begin to like me and forget what you felt towards your fellow mortals only a short time before!


    She remained silent for a few moments and then added quietly:


    -Though, perhaps it''s better this way... No, I''m not an Elf and I don''t have such ears...


    She lifted her hair and showed me an ordinary human ear.


    -But...


    I said, eager to ask her hundreds of questions that came into my mind with lightning speed.


    -But now you will close your mouth and listen! You will listen carefully, and maybe you could use some ears like the ones you were talking about, Elsie!


    -How do you know my name is Elsie?


    I couldn''t help but ask and I looked at her with big, curious eyes. This time she became angry, I felt her anger invading my soul and I looked guiltily at her. And I kept my mouse closed. With big difficulty though...


    -You are very cute indeed when you adopt this innocent look! But we don''t have time, and for a long while from now on we won''t meet again. So, from this moment on, you will do well and make no more mistakes. Sleep during the day and haunt by night; the darkness, as your so-called fellow mortals perceive it, is your best ally! Go down into the sewers of the City and explore a little of the countless corridors and vaults that make it up. Find a place that you can consider as your haven. But beware! There in the sewers are some unfathomable depths... Every time you''ll feel a strange cold coming from some vault, just run, don''t go farther! Get new and clean clothes, several sets, and store them in your new home. Don''t throw away the rags you''re wearing now because you''ll need them too. Never ever should you leave your shelter dressed alike. Observe and study carefully the places and people you want to steal or buy from. Don''t just steal food, try to get as much money as you can. And learn to spend it. In all your daytime outings be careful and never stay in the same place for longer. It is good to study during the night the places that interest you and only then to visit them during the day. Do not be timid and do not avoid fights that seem to you balanced or in your favor. You are much stronger than you think... But not in the usual way! Think less and try to act on instinct when you are in danger. Learn to cry seemingly real tears when you need to. And, at least for the next year, try not to attach yourself to anyone, be they animal or human. You have no friends at present in the City. She finally stopped and looked at me carefully. I wanted to ask her questions again but she ordered me to be quiet. Maria took then out a small pitcher from her bag and poured a stinging smelling substance on a piece of cloth. She carefully wiped my sick shoulder. Then she told me to stand up.


    -So I will be going now. Eat the fruit on the table if you like them. Get dressed and then get out of here. Don''t you dare to take anything from this house and leave it as soon as possible!


    The old lady left then but she stopped in the doorway and, without looking at me, she said:


    -Maria? Maria is a name from another story... maybe you will find it out someday!If you live...


    Then she left, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her. I stood for a moment and then took a peach from the plate on the table. I bit greedily but the fruit was overripe and much, much too sweet. I put it back and took an apple instead. A large apple and as yellow as the ancient gold. But it was also much too sweet and somewhat dry. The apricots on the plate were the same: extremely sweet and overripe, and the cherries, the cherries were like honey but not so fragrant and aromatic. All the fruits from the big plate were like those of the extremely old trees that are sometimes found in old, long-forgotten cemeteries, where even the imposing marble monuments of the rich are totally overgrown by vegetation in the summers. I gave up trying to eat and looked around curiously. Everything in the room was arranged the same as it had been a year ago, the painting depicting Red Mountain erupting hung on the wall above the soft and low couch that beckoned to rest and the glass cabinet containing all manner of delicate trinkets glowed dimly in the soft light spread by the candle on the table. I approached the cabinet and saw inside it the black crystal horse with two very small rubies as its eyes, masterfully embedded in the material, which had been given as a gift by my mother Kiersten to my hosts. And next to it were miniature ivory figurines of various exotic animals. And many other beautiful and delicate things... But I wanted to take the little horse, to keep it as a heirloom from my mother Kiersten... I vividly remembered that when I asked her about it, my mother Kiersten told me that it was a very good reproduction of a legendary horse. I couldn''t remember its name at the time, but now I know it was Shadowmere, the mare that, as I write this, is angrily neighing in the garden beneath my open window. But as I tried to open the panel, a malevolent, snake-like hiss came from behind me. I looked horrified and saw that the candle on the table was smoking and making that unpleasant sound. But candles like that don''t smoke¡ªthey never do. I remembered Maria''s words and hurried to get dressed and get out of the house.


    I went out into the deep, silky, warm summer night. None of the Nirn''s moons were in the sky, so I decided to take Maria''s advice and make a night incursion into the Elven Garden District and study the surroundings. There were people in the wide, dark streets, many of them strolling leisurely and taking advantage of the relative cool of the night. I stepped confidently among them knowing that the darkness enveloped me in its silky rich brocade. I followed some of the pairs closely and listened to what they talked, I climbed fences but only the low ones because my shoulder reacted painfully to any particular effort, and I peered intently and curiously through the lighted windows. And even through the dark ones because my gaze easily pierced the deepest darkness. Of course, I couldn''t see objects and beings as they were during the day, and colors were almost completely absent, with black and white prevailing, but shapes and surfaces were clearly and undistorted visible to me. And I could distinctly sense odors... Smells of food, of subtle perfumes, of human sweat; smells emanating from the various candles and candelabras burning in some of the rooms; aromas of wine or expensive sweets, of flowers of all kinds and of fruits; the smell of the latrines discreetly hidden in lilac bushes which in turn gave off a heavy and perfumed scent but which failed to cover the other, more earthy smell. And many others... I saw people and their deeds, some of which were incomprehensible to me at the time. I carefully gathered fruit from the trees of the gardens through which I was wandering and ate them with pleasure, I drank cold water from the very deep fountain of a rich man''s garden. I spent all the night that followed in this way, and when dawn was approaching I set out for the Talos Plaza District, intending to find that entrance to the city sewer of which Prioress Sescia had told me. I found it easily.


    The district is surrounded by an uncovered collecting canal and on its south side is an opening, an oval aperture closed with bars. The gate was locked with a big, old and rusty padlock which I broke using a stone. I opened the grate with difficulty; its hinges were very rusted and made a terrible rattling noise in the quiet of the early morning. I looked around carefully and stepped into the narrow corridor that descended with a slight slope. At its sides, along the silt-covered walls, was a narrow border made of stone slabs. As I moved away from the entrance, the darkness deepened and I had to stop for a short while. I leaned my right hand against the damp, slightly sticky wall and after a while I began to distinguish the gray outlines and the narrow road ahead of me. To my left, in the water of the passage, things glimmered now and then in the water of the gallery, borrowing the dim dawn light that diffused inland through the manholes that were quite numerous in this densely populated quarter. I continued my journey until I came to a branch that corresponded in a tunnel much wider than the corridor through which I had come. The heavy, damp, cold smell was now stronger and I wondered if anyone could live here... But both ladies, both Sescia and Maria, two women who had done me good, had recommended the city sewer as a place of refuge, so I decided to continue my exploration. To my right, the wide gallery ascended with a relatively steep slope so I decided that this was the direction I should follow. I continued to walk carefully along the main gallery in which, from place to place, on my right, the openings to other narrower corridors appeared. In these places, thin stone arches crossed the secondary drains, which discharged their waters into the collector sewer; I walked along them slowly and carefully, but as I went on, I began to distinguish better and better the details of the surroundings. There was more and more light coming through the manholes into the city''s sewers and I could notice that most of them were equipped with ladders made of metal steps that were embedded in the wall. I tried to climb one of the staircases but my injured shoulder would not allow me to do this so I continued my journey. The gallery I was traveling through seemed to be getting wider and the side corridors that opened into it were getting thicker and thicker and at one point I entered a large room. It was darker here than in the gallery from which I had just exited and I tried to guide my way, always feeling with my hand the wall to my right. I began to feel tired and hungry and I wondered if it would not be more appropriate to go back along the rather long way I had traveled. But I decided to continue my exploration, unsure if I would soon have the courage to go again into the darkness. From time to time, as in the case of the gallery I entered through, branches, wider or narrower, opened in the wall on my right. I began to explore the room and under the overwhelming impression of darkness and eager to cover as much as possible in this journey, I made the mistake of not counting the openings I was leaving behind... From place to place, they didn''t contain a canal and I initially thought they were probably dead ends where there couldn''t be anything interesting. I wandered quite a long time, and it didn''t even occur to me that I was probably repeating over and over again the path I had started from the entrance to the great room. As I had finally found out, the chamber was situated right under the White Gold Tower and was perfectly round. The entire sewer system that I had traversed so far was ancient, having been built by the Ayleids themselves, and, like all those built by this great nation, it was a pinnacle of perfection. And, in addition, it contained the magical elements that are inherent in any Ayleid structure. In a way incomprehensible to those of us living in our present times, even to their distant Aldmer kin, the stone and marble of which their edifices are built contains an ancient magic, strange and powerful, equal to the great and cruel practitioners of it.


    None of these was known to me when I was exploring the Imperial City sewers for the first time.Tired and hungry, beginning to fear that I was lost in the underground maze, I stopped and tried to come up with a plan to get me back to the place where I had entered the sewers. But nothing crossed my mind; the fear began to take hold of me. But I didn''t give up and tried to think of the two remarkable women who have guided my life lately. Prioress Sescia... Ah, Prioress Sescia would not be overwhelmed by fear and weakness! I was sure of that! And Maria... I was certain that Maria would come up with a very elegant workaround to get out of a deadlock like this... And then I realized that in the place where I was, the unpleasant odor from the sewer had weakened a lot, it was almost non-existent. And the air was a little warmer and not humid at all. I sniffed around, trying to follow the warm air, and ended up next to an opening in the wall, one that didn''t correspond to a drain. I stepped cautiously into the secondary gallery which, curiously, went up rather than down as did all the corridors that had channels. The trend of the slope gave me courage and I continued on my way despite the fact that the darkness seemed to be deepening. And I didn''t have much farther to go because the narrow gallery suddenly stopped in a wall. I touched the wall and felt that there were steps cut into it. They were roughly carved, rough-edged and irregularly shaped, but deep enough for a man to climb up or down. I ignored the pain in my injured shoulder and started climbing the ladder but very quickly, I reached the ceiling of the gallery. I probed its surface but I couldn''t feel anything special. I went down the same way I had come up and went back the way I had come, checking to see if there were any other galleries opening from the tunnel, to the left or to the right. But no, the sole use of the corridor was to access that ladder.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Now I could distinguish things better around me so I ventured towards the center of the room. I was intrigued because in front of me seemed to be a massive structure that stood like a thick and probably tall pillar. But how high could the things be here in this subterranean realm? I wasn''t to find out too soon though, because I quickly reached a relatively high ledge of stone, shiny and seemingly warm to the touch. It appeared like a whitish shape in front of me and I stretched out my hands to the right and left... Yes, the structure continued on both sides and I didn''t dare venture along it because I didn''t want to lose my direction to the short and seemingly dead-ended corridor I had just explored. I sat down on the floor with my back pressed against the stony wall which seemed to radiate warmth and, very calm despite my situation which did not seem to be very good, I took from my apron pocket a large loaf of bread and one of the apples I had stolen from the poor old woman. I began to eat, quiet and tactical as if I were at a jolly picnic in a glade in a sunny wood. I was comfortable there, in that room where no unpleasant odors existed and where the cold dampness from the galleries that converged into it seemed not to reach. The bread tasted extraordinarily good, it had a flavor I had never felt before, and it seemed to melt in my mouth. And the apple... Ah, the small, wrinkled apple, it was sweet and fresh, just like honey squeezed from a honeycomb fresh from the hive! Occasionally I could hear sounds similar to the wind that sometimes sings as it creeps through ancient, ruined, ivy-covered walls. And the darkness around me now seemed to hold within itself a kind of strange light, extremely faint and probably imperceptible to a normal sight. But for me it was absolutely sufficient to be able to distinguish from where I was standing the edges of the corridor that interested me so much. I finished eating and then my thoughts began to wander.


    As in The White-Gold Tower, lush landscapes, unspoiled jungles and sun-drenched swamps full of flowers of a strange and wild beauty formed in my mind. All green... All so wildly green in the harsh light of a sun shining high in a sky of pure blue and untainted by a cloud... I could hear the birds singing and the deafening squawking of a big tribe of monkeys scurrying through the branches of the tall, thick trees... I saw a magnificent creature which, in spite of its impressive size, was gracefully sneaking to the shore of a pond where a few gazelles were drinking water... The leopard, I know now that it was a leopard, a beautiful and young exemplar, stopped in a thick bush... I clearly distinguished the muscles that played beneath its glossy fur, I saw its yellow eyes, so attentive, searching for the most suitable prey... It crouched and jumped like a highly strung spring! The leap was long and wildly graceful and the magnificent animal secured its daily food... The sun was falling swiftly towards the sunset and I felt a sweet torpor fell over me and my eyes were closing... And sleep seemed to me like a smooth, cozy water, yet so deceptive in that young and wild world... But I longed to sleep, I longed to sink in the sweet waters of oblivion and dreaming, I longed for a dream in a dream...


    And I dreamed... I dreamed of a dark crypt, illuminated here and there by vivid flames erupting from the ground or from the walls of strange structures that dotted the cavern. Somewhere, in the midst of the darkness, there was a well... I knew it was there, and I longed to drink from it! The lights that slashed through the darkness were wicked, burning my eyes and skin, and I wished to lie down, rest, and wait for a while... But in places like that, you are not allowed to linger, for things can change swiftly, and the darkness or shadows can become flame at any moment! I began to run frantically among the flames that breathed around me, and in the distance ahead, wrapped in a blue mist, I saw the well''s edge! With my last bit of strength, I crawled toward it and finally stood up with difficulty. I tried to drink directly from the well, but the deceitful waters turned into a starry sky arched above me. I was lying somewhere in the grass and it was soft and silky and I was watching the celestial spectacle above me. Unknown constellations floated in the depths, with no sign of Nirn''s moons, only a large, yellow, and spotted disk hanging above this world. I stared at it in awe for a while until a deep, echoing sound disturbed me. Then, in the unknown sky a red star lit up, its light flickering, and it seemed to be crashing down upon me...


    I woke up suddenly and saw a man with a torch emerging from the corridor I was watching. My mind was clear and rested, my senses alert, and I rolled gently out of the path of the light coming toward me. I remained in the protective shadow of the wall and looked around. Both the walls and floor of the central hall were clad in marble, and in the center stood a thick column. The column was in the middle of a wide pit, bordered by marble edges that had stopped my progress earlier. As for the ceiling, it was indistinguishable in the dim torchlight. The man carrying the torch was very tall and thin, dressed in dark clothes, and was dragging a big sack behind him. I was tempted to follow him from the shadows to see where he was going and what he was planning to do, but caution urged me to investigate the corridor from which he had come and see if I could find the entrance. I found it easily enough; above the stairs I had unsuccessfully climbed earlier was an opening through which I exited into one of the mausoleums that dotted the cemetery in the Palace District.


    I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly distanced myself from the secret access to the city''s sewers. It was already night, and I had begun my new life, just as Maria had advised.I wandered through the city every night and rested during the day in the parks or cemeteries of the Imperial City. I never suffered from hunger that summer and learned many interesting things about people and their homes. I discovered that there are often other ways to enter someone''s house; sometimes, while the doors were securely locked, some merchants'' or wealthy people''s cellars were completely unprotected for someone willing to wait patiently and with a keen sense of observation. I learned to climb, first in trees and then onto the roofs of houses, where there was usually a hatch leading into the attics. Most of them weren''t locked or blocked from the inside, and even those that were secured in one way or another were easy to open for a skilled hand. And I also learned to procure food in other ways because breaking into homes was extremely dangerous; more than once, I found myself nearly caught as the owners woke up, worriedly inspecting their homes due to the noises and mistakes I sometimes made. I stole food from city markets, where piles of produce were carelessly guarded at night; I also visited the nests of domestic or wild birds, stealing their eggs; often, especially with the wild ones in the trees of the city parks, I would catch the birds themselves during my nightly visits. Dawn raids on freshly opened shops, especially bakeries, were another rich source of food for me.


    For a time, I had no more trouble from the refugee children who once flooded the city. On one hand, I roamed while they slept in dilapidated warehouses or in the temporary lodgings from Arena District, and on the other, their numbers had significantly dwindled that summer. The Order had managed to capture many of them, and others had moved together with their families outside the city, to the large refugee camp set up southeast of the capital. But I found out that there was another class of urchins; they were locals, much more skilled and dangerous than their counterparts from the Empire''s war-torn regions. Most of them were under the care and control of the Thieves Guild of the Imperial City, and these posed no threat for me. But there were also independent groups whose members I occasionally encountered at night. Though we generally didn''t operate in the same hunting grounds, these dangerous predators began to hunt me once they became aware of my presence. But my nocturnal life and frequent forays into the city''s sewer system had sharpened my senses; I had grown more comfortable in the twilight, even in darkness, and where my sight failed me, my sense of smell compensated for the deficiency. Moreover, in the stillness of the nights or caverns, my hearing was sharp enough to detect even the faintest sounds made by moving creatures. Thus, it was relatively easy for me to avoid these beings who, despite their brilliant street-fighting or survival skills, were clumsy, noisy, and frightened by the shadows.


    As Maria had advised, I set up a small hideout for myself somewhere in the sewers of the Merchant District. Here, the system of galleries and channels initially built by the Ayleids had been expanded by humans during the Empire''s reign. The newer corridors and drainage shafts were much more superficially constructed, and the materials used could not compare to those the Elves had used millennia ago. So, the system was quite unstable, and in some places, the gallery ceilings occasionally collapsed. Such collapses were usually caused by the massive infiltration of water into the thick layer of sand beneath this district and were usually signaled by cracks in the street pavement. But sometimes, long before these cracks emerged, the floors of the galleries would sink into the quicksand beneath them, turning those places into deadly traps. There were at least two such areas in the sewers of the Merchant District during the time I roamed the quarter like a creature of the dark. I discovered one of them on an autumn day when the morning cold reminded me that I needed a shelter for the winter. It almost claimed my life, and I survived only thanks to my instincts and the fact that I was so small and light. Initially, the trap had caught me in its merciless, wet, and filthy embrace, quickly engulfing me up to my knees. I felt the monster absorbing me, swallowing me alive, felt myself sinking hopelessly into the filth around me. Ah, such a death is terrible, my friends, and perhaps no fate more dreadful can be imagined... I understood perfectly what was happening to me, knew what the outcome would be, but I didn''t panic and didn''t try to struggle against the filthy mire around me. On the contrary, guided by instinct¡ªor perhaps by something more¡ªI embraced the trap, which stank horribly and was filled with all the city''s filth, such as one might find under an overpopulated city like the Imperial City. I lay flat on the surface of the quagmire, stretching my arms toward the nearest wall, in the direction I had come from. I grasped a corner of stone and held on tightly but without wasting my strength. With infinite patience, moving as little as possible, I pulled myself free from the boiling mire that surrounded me. After what felt like an eternity to me, I escaped the terrible death that awaited and reached the damp but solid floor of the gallery. Despite my exhaustion, I forced myself to crawl as far away from the dangerous spot as I could, then lay still for a long time, breathless, my mind drifting away, dreaming of the sunlit jungle that often appeared in my visions... And in time, Maria''s stern face appeared, and I heard her firm voice urging me to be mindful of the unfathomable depths sometimes found in the sewers... When I began to recover from the torpor that had gripped me after I had escaped, I sniffed the air around and indeed detected a distinct smell amid the wide array of scents surrounding me. It was a cold smell, just as Maria had warned me, but not like the scent of fresh snow, for instance. Or that of a clear winter''s night, with high skies and frost. Those are clean and pure smells, but the one emanating from the death trap was more earthy and, at the same time, more subtle... Among the many messages it sent to my brain, there was both the warning of imminent danger and, curiously, an attraction, a desire to explore the infinite.


    I didn''t understand much of this at the time; I only learned a very important lesson for survival in the shadows. But now I know that on that autumn day, deep in the bowels of the Imperial City, I perceived the Void for the first time in my life. In a raw, unrefined form, it is true, but perhaps much closer to reality than the elevated forms in which I can sense it now. Ah, I''ve mentioned the word "reality"... I may make this mistake again throughout my confession, and for this, I apologize in advance. I have the excuse that language, even the subtle and rich Ta''agra, does not contain the proper terms to describe how we perceive the world around us...


    From then on, I became much more cautious, and in poor visibility conditions, I became accustomed to using my sense of smell, which, in my case, is far more developed than that of most mortals. Except for the cat people, of course. Even the most young and inexperienced among them far surpasses me in this regard! I then emerged from the sewers through a manhole in the Elven Garden District and washed myself thoroughly in the cold waters of a fountain. However, the pestilential stench I had borrowed from death''s passionate embrace clung to me for several days after that event, forcing me to remain in the city''s underground until it fully left my body. These days, however, proved to be quite useful and productive, as during them I managed to explore a large portion of the Merchant District''s sewer system. I discovered a new collapse, more recent and less extensive than the first. Here, the corridor''s floor wasn''t completely submerged in the deadly sludge across the entire width of the gallery, and the tunnel ended in a dead-end beneath the district''s market hall. It was the perfect place for a hideout worthy of that name. Or at least that''s what I believed at the time, and as it turned out, I wasn''t far from the truth. I blocked the two access points from the inside, ensuring that no one could enter the dead-end, and I established my winter residence there. More importantly, it became the place where I would store my small fortune. Following Maria''s advice, I stole children''s clothes of all kinds... And not just clothes; I even acquired a mattress and two wonderful, fluffy, warm quilts. During my usual nightly strolls, wherever I saw clothes left to dry or air out by poor housewives preparing their homes for winter, I''d take what I needed or fancied and carry them back to my lair. Ah, I smile now with tenderness as I recall those little domestic urges that drove me to lovingly and carefully arrange my small den!


    But it was neither the time nor the place for such tenderness, nor for those small, human joys that were denied to me so early in life... Winter had come, a dreadful winter, far colder than anything the elders could remember, and across the Empire, war was raging fiercely.