《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.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    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... Even though I am still young, those times seem to belong to another era, another world, and, in fact, a kind of mist seems to hang over them! I don''t even like to think about them; I just feel pain and fear when I do. But what happened then is crucial 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.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    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.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    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.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    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.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    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.

 Chapter 5

    On a dark night, with the sky completely covered by a thick curtain of whitish clouds that seemed to drag their huge, snow-laden bellies directly on the surface of the earth, a raging wind blew from the north, from where the Jerall Mountains guard the northern border of Cyrodiil. I pulled tighter on the small cloak I was wrapped in and tried to face the storm and continue my nocturnal routine. But the wind was so strong that it was almost carrying me with it, taking me on its wings, and very soon the first snowflakes, initially large and fluffy and then small and icy, began to whip my cheeks. The blizzard quickly unleashed itself in full force and, despite the fact that the pickings that night were very poor, I was forced to return to my shelter much sooner than I had anticipated. I went underground through the Merchant District''s trading hall just after I had managed to collect two nearly rotten cabbages lying forgotten in a corner of the market. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the secondary tunnel that was my home and slipped with infinite care through the death trap that served as the door and latch of my lair. Inside, the roar of the blizzard was much muffled and the constant howling from above was replaced here by soft whistles and occasional rumbles that came through the manholes. It was generally quiet in this particular part of the Imperial City bowels, and I crept, cold and wet into my bunk and fell asleep.


    When I awoke from my sleep, it was completely quiet and not even the soft whistling that had accompanied the blizzard at the beginning could be heard. I stretched out under the thick blankets I was wrapped up in, happily gathering up the last available warmth for the day and then stood up getting ready to start shivering as usual of late. But that didn''t happen; the air in the gallery was warm and even drier than usual. Surprised, I immediately went on alert because I was aware that the stirring slime in the immediate vicinity could evolve, it was capable of suddenly growing and engulfing more of the length of the corridor. I sniffed nervously the air around me but I did not smell the specific odor of death or any other unusual scent. Instead, the silence that was usual here had transformed into something solid yet diaphanous. I felt like I was wrapped in cotton wool and I could actually hear the silence... This is a rather unpleasant sensation when it lasts longer, but for the moment I could not perceive any danger signals in the air around me. I walked under the first manhole in that dead end and could not see the light coming through. I supposed that it was still night and decided to investigate my surroundings a little, to see what changes the blizzard had brought to the world above me. But, after removing the hindrance placed by me, I could not lift the grate of the manhole and the darkness coming from there was deeper than on any night before. I tried the same thing with the next three manholes that followed and could not open any of them. Consequently, I drew the only rational solution and decided that the town was buried in a thick layer of snow. Besides, the hunger gnawing in my stomach was clearly telling me that it must already be daylight outside, and the lack of light near the manholes could only confirm my assumption.


    I went back to my den, ate and then inventoried the food I had. A huge loaf of bread, almost whole, a long piece of pork sausage and lots of apples... I cleaned out the cabbages I''d taken in the day before and added them to my little stash. It was pretty good for the moment, but the bottled water was very bad. Only about half of the canteen I had was full and here, underground, getting drinking water was impossible. An almost paradoxical situation, similar to that of a castaway who dies of thirst in the middle of the sea. But I thought of the central chamber of the sewage system that I had not properly investigated before. At its center was this enormous pit that I knew nothing about at the time but which gave me hope. So I decided to go there, traveling a path I had never explored before. The complete darkness that reigned in the depths did not hinder my mission so much because my sense of touch, smell and hearing guided me easily in this world of darkness. In fact, I arrived that day in the central hall guided only by the sense of smell and hearing after a long detour through the Elven Garden District sewer because the connection between the Market District and the Imperial Palace is, as I was to find out in a few days, made through galleries far too low for a human being, however small, to squeeze through. Initially, orienting myself by hearing alone, I ended up in a clogged corridor as I thought at the time. This surprised me and I began to combine auditory and olfactory impressions. For, surprising as it may seem, the smells of the underground odor of the various neighborhoods of the Imperial City differ considerably. And at their borders, the range of odors is so rich that it can easily mislead an inexperienced visitor. But I finally reached the central hall, which seemed full of light after the long journey through the gloom of the sewers.


    A diffused light of a color similar to blue always reigns there. I wasn''t able to detect its source and the scientists who have traveled in the time of the Empire in the underground of the Capital don''t even mention it in their writings because for normal eyesight it is very similar to darkness. Later I tried to find references about this mysterious phenomenon in the Winterhold College archives and I was about to find a very interesting source but that happened just then when Faralda banned me from the college. At present, my dear friend Brelyna is trying to continue the path I started, but Faralda and Nyria have banned the regular members of the college from certain sections of the great library there... Oh, but I see I''ve digressed from my story! As soon as I got close to the huge column that supports the high dome of the central room, I began to study the shaft that surrounds it with great interest. As I said before, it has marble ledges and in a certain place they are interrupted by the bridge that crosses the pit towards the pillar. There''s a door there, a heavy bronze door and it was locked but probably locked from the inside. I couldn''t find any locks or keyholes on it. It didn''t even have the usual handle on its interior part. So I concluded that this gate was of no interest to me and tried to find out if there was water in the surrounding well. But of course I couldn''t find any stray stone on the perfect shiny surface of the central chamber so I went back into the gallery from which I had come and peeled off a large piece of plaster from the damp wall. I went back by the well and let it fall inside. And then, after a long while, I heard a very faint splashing sound that dashed all my hopes. I then explored the tunnel leading to the mausoleum in the cemetery. It was closed, and though I searched the place very carefully, I couldn''t find any contraption to open the secret door. In addition, I noticed a strange, unknown odor there. It was quite faint, which explains why I didn''t smell it during my first incursion there. At the same time, it was totally unfamiliar and strange, full of signals indicating danger. So I didn''t press on and started down the gallery that I had entered during my first time there. As I had expected, where the barred gate was, I found total darkness, unbroken by the slightest ray of light. This gate was also obstructed by fallen snow and, moreover, when I searched it by hand, I found that it was locked with a new padlock which, being outside, it would have been impossible for me to open. Completely disappointed, I turned back the way I had come to my hiding place. I had already formed the ability to memorize long routes traveled in the darkness of the underground, and I reached my little nest without any difficulty. All that remained was to wait for the people to clear the city streets of snow and I decided that in the meantime I would move as little as possible and ration my water consumption.


    This temporary isolation from the outside world was an interesting experience for me. I had the time and quiet to reflect in detail on the last year of my life so far. And I was amazed by the conclusions I drew at the end... After all, only a year ago I was just a weak and disoriented being, a hungry little girl, distraught and grieving beyond measure over the death of her mother. And now I was able to survive on my own in the middle of a big, uncaring city. I did not dwell too much on my own senses, which were far superior to human senses, but took them for granted because my experience of life up to then had been extremely limited. But in the end it amazed and saddened me to think that I felt almost nothing about my beloved mother Kiersten. When I thought of her, and I can assure you that I did this often during that time, I felt only a slight nostalgia and a bittersweet taste crept into my thirsty mouth. Because I suffered from thirst during that isolation... And when I tried to reconstruct her image in my mind, I could only see a slender and petite silhouette, draped in a black robe, like my mother Kiersten had never worn in my presence. She was shrouded in a long, rich hair, yellow as gold and waving lightly in the breeze of a spring wind, and she spread a strange odor that was filled with the flavors of musk, nightshade, horse sweat and that of freshly tempered steel. There were faint traces of incense and fresh blood in the scent that came from my mother Kiersten, the one in my imagination, whose face resembled mine very much.


    I also reflected on how I had ended up in the Order orphanage. Although I couldn''t remember anything clear of what had happened to me after the death of my mother Kiersten, I came to the conclusion that some urchins, similar to those who now sometimes haunted me on the night streets of the Imperial City, had robbed and beaten me almost to death. A not so new feeling began to grow in me again and I felt hatred and the need for revenge. I saw Maria''s face again and her words dripped on my soul like a balm: "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..." And I began to make plans for revenge and that took up most of my remaining time until the city streets were sufficiently cleared of snow to allow the manholes of the sewers to be opened.


    When I emerged for the first time from the isolation in which I had been living for the past few days, I found a frozen city almost paralyzed by snow and frost. The previously boiling life of the big city seemed to have suddenly and permanently stopped in the icy silence that had settled over the capital. There were few people on the streets during the day and almost none at night. In a short time, insecurity and poverty set in as food became scarcer and more expensive by the day. Many of the stores were closed for lack of goods and bread became quite a luxury. The food markets were empty and large groups of people could be seen waiting in the Arena District and the Palace District where hot soup was served almost constantly. At one point even, all the bakeries in the city worked permanently for a few days and bread was distributed free of charge by the Order in many public places around the Imperial City. But the grain and oats in the capital''s reserve warehouses ran out very quickly, and then desperation and famine broke out in the city. The bitter cold continued for an unusually long time in these parts, and when it eased off a little, waves of snow would again pour down from the ashen sky. But I did not suffer from hunger in those terrible days for most of the inhabitants of the Imperial City because, as always, the rich had plenty to eat and I feasted without any remorse and even with pleasure from their storage. It was a time when I taught myself how to open simple latches and locks... Although, looking at things from today''s perspective, I''m not so convinced that I could have learned things like that as quickly and easily as I did then... But back then I was not at all interested in finding explanations for the inexplicable, I was far from being the philosopher I am today.


    Back then I was simply fighting for survival and I can say that I did that brilliantly. But I had a big problem; in the unusually and prolonged cold conditions, the ambient temperature in the city sewer became far too low. I acquired extra blankets; I even found a new mattress; I put on several layers of clothes but none of this seemed to protect me from the terrible cold that made it impossible to sleep. In a desperate attempt I made a fire one day near my little crib, but the smoke which suddenly invaded the whole tunnel made me put it out almost immediately. It was not a viable solution anyway, a fire lit in those places is a source of multiple and terrible dangers. I finally thought of the central hall, of that marble palace where everything was different; the air was dry, bad smells were non-existent, and there was a permanent but very dim light. So I decided to visit the place again and, in spite of the hazy and bizarre feeling that the corridor leading to the Palace District cemetery inspired in me, to set up a temporary sleeping place there.


    As soon as I reached the secondary galleries of the Elven Garden District traveling on the perfectly memorized route, I sensed that something was wrong. A faint smell of smoke mingled with the usual odors of this area and the almost imperceptible sound that was characteristic of the central area and that I was used to hearing in this place was distorted by new chords, never heard by me before in the underground of the city. Instantly I became more cautious than usual and accordingly made my way through the labyrinth leading to the main Elven Garden District collector sewer in an unusually long time. And when I entered under its wide arches it became apparent that someone had been or even was still in the central chamber. I took off the heavy boots I was wearing and stepped silently like a shadow toward the dim blue light that now seemed to flicker, just like a candle that was about to go out. There was no one in the great hall at the time, but I found countless signs that the place was inhabited. The trace of a fire made directly on the marble floor, ah, that pained me terribly and made me hate those who had warmed themselves by its flames, the dirty clothes scattered everywhere and the scraps of food lying spread on the floor, all told me that a group of people had settled there for some time. I carefully searched the room and found food supplies and even a big barrel of water... Near the guides of the well, where the marble seemed to be permanently warm, I found a lot of makeshift cots. Mattresses, blankets and pillows, all disgustingly filthy, were senselessly piled there and I couldn''t get the exact number of the new tenants. I entered then the main sewer gallery of the Talos Plaza District and, with infinite care, made my way to the access point through which I had first entered the underground. The gate was superficially closed and the padlock, though it had been put in its place, was open. I returned then to the central hall and began rummaging through the belongings and supplies of those who had settled uninvited into what I already considered to be my own private realm. Upon further investigations, I was convinced that I was dealing with urchins. There were toys and a great deal of sweets in the common possessions of those unwanted guests, and then the thought that at last I had a chance to take revenge on those who had caused me nothing but troubles and pain since I had come to the Imperial City crossed my mind. In the first instance, I helped myself from their food supply, from which I took two large loaves of bread, a long sausage, and a big bundle of dried fish. I would have wished to take more with me because I wanted to indicate to them the presence of a stranger but even so I could barely carry what I had taken back to my lair.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    I carefully put away the food I had brought with me, and then went to sleep in my freezing cold bunk, with the thought of being rested for the night to come. When I awoke, it was pitch dark in my place, a sign that night had fallen outside. The cold bit relentlessly, and, shivering, I ate of the provisions which had now improved perceptibly. I then set out on the planned night''s prowl after dressing in the darkest clothes I had. The smoke was now so dense in the main sewer gallery of the Elven Garden District that my olfactory sense was seriously affected. So, almost deprived of my primary aid which guided me in the dark, I was forced to rely almost exclusively on my hearing, which in turn was picking up many new signals, unusual in these parts. It was a dangerous situation and I was aware of this but I did not give up my plan. I was very determined to deal with those intruders in my own domain, and at the same time I hoped that my actions would cause them to leave the place where I would have liked to spend the rest of the winter. As soon as I reached the entrance to the central hall, I laid down on the floor and tried to assess the situation, to find out the number of uninvited guests and what they were doing at that moment. The fire they had lit was smoldering and next to it, in its light, I could see four little fellows making fun of something. I crawled toward the entrance to the Arena District sewer and I was surprised to find that in the central room the smoke generated by the fire was almost non-existent and very soon my sense of smell started to come to my aid again. Encouraged by this, I moved closer to the fire and, hiding behind their water barrel, listened to the chatter of those who were having so much fun there. I was very surprised by the fact that I understood almost nothing of what the four of them were talking... It seemed to me that they were speaking in the common tongue but pronouncing the words in a strange way, and I could only make out a few disparate words in all their conversation, which was filled with sobs of laughter; I understood that the whole discussion was centered around a priest of the goddess Mara who had preached during that day in the Arboretum District. And the sermon had been followed by a massive distribution of oat flour and dried fish during which the beneficiaries of the donation got into a fight among themselves. During the scuffle, one of the urchins by the fire had managed to steal the priest''s amulet, which he kept pulling out of his pocket and showing it to the others with terrible pride. The one who did most of the talking was a boy who looked the oldest of the four by the fire, blond with long, uncut hair, and dressed in rather expensive clothes for a guy like him. One of the other three, also blond, looked at him in ecstasy and seemed to echo his words, constantly approving and praising him. The other two didn''t talk too much but only contributed to the night''s conversation with their laughter. Since I didn''t understand much of what they were saying, I wasn''t interested in eavesdropping further and preferred to study the surroundings, to see if there had been any changes and, above all, to find out the exact number of those who had moved in without my permission. There were a dozen other children, boys and girls, of various ages, sleeping in makeshift cots near the central pit. I couldn''t notice anything special about them as immersed in sleep as they were; they all looked alike in the rags in which they were wrapped, and they all had the same odor, well known to me, of misery and poverty. I stepped aside and entered the short, narrow corridor that led to the mausoleum. I waited there until the four had gone to bed and then inspected the group''s food supplies again. There were new things there and, among them, a large piece of salted butter. It was a rare delicacy in those hard times and I put it in the bag I had brought with me. Then nuts and peanuts from which I took as many as I could fit in my apron pocket. There was also a large chunk of the pulp of a cow, fresh and appealing, but I had no opportunity to cook food so I filled my bag only with dried fish. Then I went to study the boy who seemed the leader of this little gang. He was a robust lad and, as immersed as he was in the treacherous waters of sleep, he seemed quite handsome. I saw the chain of the amulet of the goddess Mara coming out of his pocket and I smiled excitedly. I grabbed it and pulled it slowly, very carefully, and the amulet came out without any difficulty from where it had been hidden. I hung it around my neck, and in perfect silence, disturbed only by the snoring of the sleepers, I went to see if I could overturn the water barrel. It was too big and full for my strength, but it had a faucet that I turned on and let the water run on the floor. Then I gathered up as many of the clothes that were lying scattered around as I could and put them all on the fire that was smoldering, ready to die out. And then, very pleased with my deeds, I walked slowly, in no haste, to my little lair. Not long afterward, while still in the sewer of the Elven Garden District, I heard various shouts and screams, the sounds of which reverberated from the narrow walls of the galleries and seemed to repeat endlessly, fainter and fainter. My hearing, which is so sensitive to any vibration, no matter how faint, was very annoyingly assaulted by this subterranean and nocturnal concert, but it was all compensated by the satisfaction I felt in the depths of my soul. And, at the same time, I came up with new ideas about how I could make the invaders'' life hard in the future.


    When I got to my little den, after safely putting away all the food I had procured, I lit the candle I had and looked carefully at the amulet of the goddess Mara. It was a cheap piece of jewelry, made of bronze and inlaid with tiny aquamarines, and only the silver chain could have had any small commercial value. It wasn''t even particularly beautifully crafted, but the face of the woman staring at me from the amulet had something both unsettling and attractive in her eyes. I must say that this jewelry had been crafted in Bravil, in the workshops of the great Temple of the Mother there. I did not know this at the time, and was not to find it out till during the day that followed; and even if I had known it, it would have suggested nothing to me. Nothing at all, I had not even known of the existence of Bravil until then. But it was enough to look at that sad, kind, yet commanding face to make up my mind that, as soon as daylight broke, I would go to the Arboretum District and inquire about the priest of Mara who had preached there the day before. I fell asleep holding the amulet tightly in my hand and when I woke up I found that the candle was spent and that made me terribly nervous. It was very unwise to leave a candle burning for any length of time down here in the undergrowth of the city. Especially for someone like me; but what''s done is well done so after having a good snack and dressed in the best clothes I had, I left my hiding place through the nearest manhole.


    Outside, in the frozen city, the same winter ambience prevailed, of a harsh and endless winter. Beneath the leaden sky and down the frozen and snow-covered streets of the Imperial City, people were rushing about, and their feverish gazes seemed to be searching desperately for something that could not be found... Dressed in a multitude of garments and bundled in a heap of shawls and scarves, all, without exception, looked poor and worn. This was a neighborhood which, without being rich, could by no means be called poor, at least in ordinary times, but now it seemed just a ghetto into which those on the edges of society were herded. On very few chimneys you could see smoke coming out and it was thin and even diaphanous, as if the fire that produced it was ready to die, to enter forever into the category of memories... Impressed by the general appearance of the Market District, I was overcome with an insatiable curiosity. I was eager to see what the Waterfront District looked like these days so, instead of following my planned route to the Arboretum District, I went to the place where I hadn''t been for a year. Or maybe I had never been there; that cute, sweet little girl had probably died and been replaced by a small predator struggling hard to survive... The Waterfront District was, like the rest of the city, plunged into the grip of the merciless winter. And it seemed deserted, like those long-forgotten towns in the heart of Elsweyr''s "Anvil of the Sun" desert. No smoke could be seen coming out of any of the chimneys of the houses that, submerged in snow, seemed so small now. The few windows that had not been covered with boards or sacks seemed blind and, gray as they were in the white environment, looked like open doors to other frozen lands... The harbor was frozen and the docks deserted. But there you could still see traces of life; smoke was coming out of the cabins of the few ships that had been trapped by the ice in the harbor and even from inside a ship you could hear happy harmonica chords and voices shouting with the joy that one would expect to hear at a certain stage of drunkenness...


    While wandering the district''s alleys, I walked past the cottage where my mother Kiersten and I lived and stopped for a moment. I tried to remember, to feel again, the warmth and love that had once been there, but I couldn''t. The street window of the house was still adorned with the curtains brought by my mother Kiersten from Bruma, but otherwise the place seemed unfamiliar and without any special significance. Then I wanted to go to my mother Kiersten''s grave, but the cemetery was covered in snow and the gates were closed. The wind coming from the north was blowing bitterly here through the leafless branches of the old poplars that edged the cemetery street, stretched like greedy claws towards the sky. And again I felt no regret and knew then that I would never return there again... Without any particular feeling in my mind, I clutched in my fist the amulet from which seemed to spring a subtle warmth and returned to the city, following my original intention.


    Arboretum is a very pleasant place in the summer. It is a huge park, a miniature forest in the heart of the Imperial City. In its meadows, there are statues of all the gods of Nirn''s Pantheon, and the priests usually hold sermons here, in these places so close to nature. Even then, in that dreadful winter, this custom was kept up, and when I entered the vast park I found quite a crowd of people there. It seemed as if a large part of the population of the capital were here, trying to find in the words of the priests who were tirelessly preaching, the solace and comfort they so sorely lacked. However, there was no one near the statue of the goddess Mara, only the traces of the previous day''s gathering were still visible: the snow was trampled and dirtied by countless footsteps that had churned it up, torn sacks, and even scattered flour in some places... I silently watched the statue for a while and then I took the goddess''s amulet out of my pocket. The face on the amulet looked nothing like the statue in the park. While the latter depicted a woman overwhelmed by pity and the hardships and sorrows of life, the figure on the amulet, besides these features it also contained, expressed, something additional. An indestructible will and a surprising coldness seemed to spring from the eyes that watched me from the small metal disk. I clutched it in my hand again and thought that since I didn''t know who to return it to, I might as well keep it and look at it from time to time. But just as I was about to leave, I heard behind me:


    -Do you want the blessing of the goddess, child?


    I turned and saw an old priest, impressive in stature with a thick white beard. His eyes looked at me keenly, and, among the lightning that seemed to flash from them, I seemed to discern a trace of interest... Very impressed by the venerable old man''s personality, I babbled:


    -No... In fact, I know nothing about Mara... I''m only here to return something stolen!


    The priest smiled.


    -The thing you speak of was not stolen... And you, Elsie, should be the last person in the world to give back, to give up, an object which you have acquired by your own skill! Now, show it to me...


    I unclenched my fist and held out the amulet. He looked at it intensely and smiled.


    - Keep it, child! It''s yours now because Our Lady wanted to come to you!


    I didn''t ask him how he knew my name. It seemed a natural, self-evident fact to me at the time, and only later, when I came out from under the influence of his overwhelming personality, I realized with wonder that, once again, something fated had happened to me. Back then I only told him that I did not understand why the two faces, that of the statue and that on the amulet, were so different. The priest smiled again and replied that he could not see any difference between the two figures. Then he took me by hand and, as we walked together through the little glade around the statue of the goddess, he told me about the Holy City, Bravil. Ah, the mere mention of that name stirs in me the desire, the restless urge, to lie prostrate at Lucky Lady''s feet there, in Her City! Under the pale light of Secunda, when it is at full moon stage, wherever I am, I am seized with a wild, almost physiological, desire to commune with Our Lady! And this is possible for me only there, in the shadow of her great Temple of Bravil... And then, the priest and I took a long walk in the wintry park. And he told me many things about Mara. He spoke of love and mercy, kindness and respect, candor and kindness. I didn''t even feel the passage of time and when we both arrived at the gate of the park, I was amazed to see the shadows of the fuming winter sunset falling over the city, overrun by cold and snow. The priest stopped and, while looking kindly at me, said:


    -You''re a good girl, Elsie! Please, wherever your life may lead you, never forget that there is still kindness and respect in the world around you! And that forgiveness and mercy can sometimes cease for a time the never-ending fight that rules our lives here in this wonderful little world!


    We parted there and I returned to my little haven in the bowels of the great beast that is the Imperial City. I pondered the venerable old man''s words, but though they seemed pleasant and full of meaning, I found nothing of use to me there, at least for the moment. I took off the amulet I had put around my neck and looked at the face of the goddess who now seemed to be smiling at me. But not in the gentle way the priest had told me about... Oh no, Mara of the amulet was grinning at me mockingly and with a shadow of contempt in her piercing eyes! I smiled back and put it back.


    I ate a hearty supper in my frozen lair. But it was warm here now, compared to the capital''s bitterly cold streets. And besides, here in the depths, there was no wind... Only a slight whisper was discreetly making its way into my ears and, snugly wrapped up with all the blankets I had, I fell asleep, swayed by the ancient chanting that was constantly echoing in the underground galleries.

 Chapter 6

    I spent my days, and especially the nights that followed, haunting the lair of the uninvited guests who had intruded upon what I considered to be my rightful domain.


    During that time, I committed many wicked but also humorous acts, as such deeds tend to be when carried out by children. My initial goal had been to drive the intruders away from a place I wanted for myself, but along the way, all these became an excellent training ground for me. I''m not sure I even wanted them to leave anymore; first of all, because I no longer had to wander the frozen city in search for food¡ªthose urchins had exceptional sources from which they procured very good food, rare items in those difficult times for the rest of the population of the Imperial City. And secondly, because I could feel certain abilities developing rapidly within me, abilities that amazed me and that I wanted to practice as much as possible.


    I began by carefully studying their behavior in the evenings. I loved watching them from the shadows, hidden beneath the darkened arches of the main drainage canals. I would observe them as they divided the day''s spoils, ate, and prepared for sleep. When some lingered by the fire, which, much to my annoyance and envy, they managed to light every evening, I would slip unnoticed and unheard close to them, just near enough to catch their words. As I''ve mentioned, I couldn''t understand much of what they were discussing. They spoke in a language that, although I had the chance to hear it frequently later in Bravil, I never managed to learn. My beloved friend Courtney knows it very well and sometimes tried to guide me in learning it, but unfortunately, I am poorly suited for learning new languages. Except for the wonderful and so subtle Ta''agra, of course...


    But I understood enough to realize that those children were surprisingly well-organized, a solid structure, a real urban fighting group. Each had well-defined roles in the various situations that could arise during their daily activities on the city''s streets. Streets, markets, temples, or other crowded places, wherever large groups of people gathered, generally preoccupied with something specific. For these urchins were excellent thieves and beggars. They were masters in these professions, and even when chance, luck, or a wrong move exposed them to the furious crowd, their diversion team would step in, not hesitating to use the small and so wicked blades they hid in their filthy garments. They weren''t murderers, but they had no scruples when their freedom or lives were at stake; they were the epitome of urban survivors in the densely populated environment of the capital.


    Just like me, in fact. But in a different way, and above all, they were daytime predators. Darkness and silence frightened and intimidated them... I took full advantage of all the assets I had in this underground world and played with them for a long time... Sometimes, especially in the beginning, I used to lure the night watchman¡ªoh yes, they now assigned one of them to keep guard while the others tried to sleep¡ªtowards the entrances of the drainage canals. And while he nervously searched the spot where he thought he had heard something, I would slip quickly into the midst of the sleeping ones and start screaming at the top of my lungs. Then I would run and hide in the darkness of the galleries... Where, after a short while, I would start to sing or shout, depending on my mood, moving closer to or farther from their lair. I had gotten into the habit of dressing in dark clothes and covering my face, leaving only my senses free, so even when they managed to glimpse my silhouette in the dim torchlight they carried, they weren''t sure if it was really a human being, a child like them. But I think I''m wrong, terribly wrong... None of us were truly children anymore, not there, beneath the high dome built by the Ayleids...


    I would periodically raid their food supplies, and I must admit to my shame that I took much more than I needed and destroyed it. Yes, in those times of hardship and famine, the sweet girl with blonde hair and innocent wide eyes was feeding the rats of the depths with food delicacies... For with the onset of the terrible cold that plagued the capital for so long, all the rats of the great city had migrated into the city''s sewers. At first, there were endless waves of mice, which were terribly bothersome to me. But they were quickly driven away by the relentless, unmerciful migration of their larger, stronger, and more intelligent relatives. For rats are very intelligent creatures, I can affirm that with certainty. I used to scatter food not far from my little shelter, and soon enough, a community of rats established themselves permanently in the area. Interestingly, this community did not allow other rats to roam the zone, and at least in the early days, there were bloody battles between my rats and those trying to feast on the rich daily offerings I provided. I tried to replicate the experiment near the central chamber, where the intruders lived, but although the rats began to roam the area in large numbers, they never entered the large circular room. No matter how much I tried to lure them there...


    Instead, they made the uninvited guests fear wandering through the sewer galleries, especially at night. Even in the morning, when they left through the main collector channel in the Talos Plaza District, they usually armed themselves with various sticks and a multitude of torches to reach the city access gate. I, on the other hand, began to try to befriend some of my rats and hunt the others. I''m not sure I managed to gain the trust of these intelligent creatures, but I became very skilled at catching them. Rats are very dangerous creatures when cornered, and, on top of that, their tendency to organize into groups often heightens the danger when faced with threats. At first, I was often badly bitten by other rats while capturing one, but soon enough, my movements became so quick and my tactics so perfect that I could capture several specimens alive without any problem or pain. And this happened in a very short time; I would place the captured specimens in a sack and quickly bring them to the spot where the invaders slept; I would release them there and then have great fun watching the confusion, disgust, and horror of those woken up in this manner. Although they were very agile and skilled everywhere else, in the large central room, where they wouldn''t usually enter voluntarily, the rats became extremely disoriented and dangerous when they found themselves among those human bodies, under the high vault! An all-out confrontation took place in those moments, which were not as funny as they seemed to me... But for me, that group of street urchins was an enemy, a competitor, and an almost identical element to me in the food chain of that microsystem.


    In any case, I pushed things much too far in this regard, and the endless nightly disturbances in the sewers eventually stirred the anxiety and wrath of an unusual kind of predator. This entity was already aware of our presence, including, or perhaps especially, mine, sensing that it would be much safer without any human presence there. Yet it''s likely it wouldn''t have taken drastic measures if our life in the sewers had gone on quietly. Or perhaps things were much more complicated, as something incredible happened at the end of this incident...


    A creature of darkness, a real creature of darkness this time, authentic and truly terrifying to any living being, began hunting all of us. One of the urchins, a tall brunette girl, didn''t return one night from one of the secondary galleries in the Elven Garden District, where she had ventured with two other gang members looking for me. I wasn''t even near the place where the tragedy unfolded, but I could clearly hear the desperate and quickly cut-off scream of the girl. Then, the terrified screams of the other two urchins and the sound of their footsteps as they ran desperately toward the illusory safety of their refuge in the central chamber. I was puzzled but not frightened; I knew they feared the rats and assumed that the group I had lured deep into the sewer system had been attacked by an aggressive rodent community established in the area. However, that night, my sense of smell almost constantly warned me of a new, unknown presence very close to me.


    In fact, I had felt something strange around me for a while, something akin to an immaterial presence, but I attributed it to the amulet I wore. The amulet sometimes behaved very interestingly, heightened perhaps by my loneliness and desire to communicate. I had gotten used to looking at it and speaking to it, recounting the events of the day and asking it for advice... And the amulet seemed to respond, not with words, but with the expressions on its face.


    But this time, it was a physical presence and not a specter or illusion. The creature was something that people call a vampire, and our paths had crossed from the first day I spent in the sewers. There are many legends and stories about vampires, and even some serious studies by scholars regarding these natural oddities. Many accounts, testimonies, or conclusions drawn by scientists differ so much that a person studying vampirism could conclude that there are many kinds of vampires with different behaviors, powers, and weaknesses; sometimes, these differences are so great that the term may refer to entities that have nothing to do with the classic vampire.


    This very skilled and dangerous predator who began toying with us that night was, let''s say, a classic vampire. It only acted at night, lay dormant during the day in his coffin, and was devoid of reason. Perhaps not entirely, but it certainly didn''t possess the characteristics and habits described by some authors who prefer to romanticize and present certain monstrosities of our world in an interesting and attractive way. I say this because vampires are, without exception, enemies of the human race and entities that exist contrary to the basic laws of life.


    I suspect that this vampire has been feeding on the blood of gang members living in the sewers from the beginning. And I think it did this discreetly, initially without intending to reveal his presence. I''m also sure he was aware of my presence in the city''s sewer system from the beginning and ignored me; I''m not sure why it avoided me from start to finish, but I have certain suspicions about that. In any case, from that night onward, the urchins began to disappear and their abductions were, I believe, done deliberately loudly, and demonstratively. The last one to be abducted before the gang fled the sewers was their leader, the tall, blond, well-dressed boy. He was reckless, probably because he felt his authority threatened by the events unfolding; first by my annoying behavior, which only irritated and provoked, and then by the actions of the monstrous entity, which this time killed. I say killed, but I don''t know what actually happened to the urchins who were abducted; I found no corpse or sign of their deaths in the city''s depths. There was only blood, and not always, at the scene of the attack; and, usually, very little.


    I perceived the gang leader''s abduction with all my senses. It happened on another night, not long after the first girl disappeared. During this time, I had changed my behavior, bewildered and unsettled by recent events, trying to remain as discreet as possible. I stopped the silly pranks I had played before and sought only to understand what was happening and, especially, the nature of the new predator in the depths. I can''t say I was frightened, as I probably should have been, but I felt an increasing unease, especially as my sense of smell, my greatest aid in the darkness, detected only vague and unclear signs of this entity. And my hearing detected absolutely nothing, except for the moments when the creature deliberately made noise while attacking.


    On the night of the event that triggered the gang''s disorderly flight from the sewer system, I was under the vault of the collector channel in the Arena District, carefully observing the surroundings and the urchins'' behavior. At one point, they began to argue, and their argument soon turned into a full-blown quarrel. On one side were the leader and the blond boy who always agreed with him and whom, as I later learned, was his younger brother; on the other side were the seven remaining gang members. The latter strongly insisted it was absolutely necessary to leave the city''s sewers, while the other two resolutely opposed them. Soon, they began fighting, and immediately the vampire, who had waited until then undetected in the main collector channel of Talos Plaza District, attacked the brawling crowd.


    It slithered, more precisely flowed, along the marble floor of the central room, but did so with incredible speed, moving like a snake. Near the group that was fighting, it suddenly compressed, instantly becoming much shorter than before, and leapt, darting, striking with incredible force in the middle of the scuffle, scattering the urchins around like mere wood chips. Dazed, each lay where the extraordinary impact had thrown them, and the vampire rose, becoming a bipedal entity once again, immensely tall and thin, and simply picked up the gang leader from the ground, tossed him over his shoulder, and then, moving swiftly and almost floating, disappeared into the darkness of the Arena District''s sewers. It passed right by me as I watched in awe at the extraordinary display of strength and agility that had just occurred, and as the vampire moved¡ªif I can call that strange, levitation-like movement walking¡ªit cast a look at me.


    I will never forget those eyes that looked at me then from beyond the grave, from a world that practically doesn''t exist. Or shouldn''t exist... They were like two blind windows and didn''t seem to see; they were simulacra of eyes and didn''t look like eyes; as much as I could discern in the sepulchral light around, they gave me the sensation of boundless emptiness, endless sorrow, and something like terrible thirst... or hunger, or some other powerful physiological impulse, blindly and irrationally followed by living beings.


    It vanished into the darkness along with his victim, who had begun to scream piercingly. But those screams were abruptly cut off, and for a few moments, all I could hear was silence. That absolute silence that can sometimes create a feeling of pain...


    And then came the uncontrolled screams of the other urchins, who fled, rushing in a panic through the high arch of the main collector channel of Talos Plaza District. None of them ever returned there, at least not during the time I continued to dwell in the sewers.


    Unbelievable as it may seem, I continued my life in the depths of the Imperial City undisturbed and only slightly worried about what this terrifying entity would do next. I did not truly fear this embodiment of Hell; whenever I thought of the vampire, it was enough to clutch the amulet of the goddess Mara in my small fist to regain confidence and strength. I didn''t move into the central chamber of the sewer system as I had originally planned; it was still too close to the place where the vampire could enter the underground. I continued to live in my small refuge in the dead end under the Merchant District trading hall. The supplies and clothes abandoned by the urchins in their refuge were enough to sustain me through that terrible cold spell that had gripped the Imperial City. I even found money and cheap jewelries among the things left behind by those who fled with the horror of the world nestled deep in their hearts.


    I only encountered that vampire once more in my life, but it was an encounter so strange that it deserves mention in this confession of mine.


    I was asleep and dreaming... It was a deep sleep, with vague and strange dreams flashing one after another.


    I dreamed of an ancient cemetery, overrun by greenery, forgotten by humans and even the gods. Sad, restless shadows drifted among the time-scarred tombstones under the glaring light of a sun shining wildly and cruelly from an ominous, deep sky. A tall, slender shadow crawled toward me, looking at me imploringly with its blind eyes.


    Then I dreamed of a threatening castle, more like a small fortress perched atop a barren, steep hill. Its white walls gleamed strangely under a massive red sun, gazing at that world from the depths of a gray, almost black sky. It was indeed light emanating from the dark heavens, but not the light we know; it seemed more a primordial light, like that which witnessed the shattering of Lorkhan. A tall, slender knight, clad in gleaming armor, stood atop the highest tower, shaking his fist menacingly at the sky.


    Next, a verdant land appeared, filled with lush vegetation and rushing, crystalline waters; the forests were full with restless animals and beautiful birds. There lived people and their children; I saw their rich flocks and fertile fields, planted with all sorts of grains and vegetables. The sun, yellow and bright, shone from a high sky, and in its young light, people fought fiercely against each other with weapons of red bronze, glinting mercilessly in the powerful light. Oh, the steep hill was there too, but now its slopes were covered in a forest of pines. At the top, a tall, broken, crooked gray tower was visible, surrounded by tattered walls.


    Finally, I dreamed again of the dark sky from which dazzling flashes of lightning burst, zigzagging and splitting the heavens that pulsed rhythmically under the power of a voice chanting an unspeakable incantation.The tall knight in shining armor reached out from the top of his tower and captured a bolt of lightning. Triumphantly, he lifted it above his head and let out a cry of joy and victory. Deep within the dark, unfriendly sky, a red star ignited, pulsing as if it would crash down upon me from on high.


    I awoke, shaken and overcome with sadness; light surrounded me, and this frightened me. I turned and felt the terror griping my soul; the vampire was there, just steps from my shelter, sniffing the air. In its left hand, it held a smoldering torch that spread blinding light through the darkness of the underground. We studied each other for what felt like an eternity; the creature was tall, extremely thin, dressed in black, tattered clothes caked with earth. It was barefoot, its feet covered with hair, more like a thick fur; its hands ended in long, claw-like fingers, covered in a layer of damp, rough skin. Its face was the embodiment of horror; as I had noticed before, the creature had no eyes, only a thick layer of rough skin covering where they should be. Its mouth was like a slit, a gash across his face, with long, gleaming white fangs visible in the flickering light of the torch. That vampire had no nose, only monstrous holes, and its hair, wild and rough, black as the bottom of Hell, fell over its shoulders.


    I tensed like a cornered animal; I lunged forward with a long, elastic leap, squeezing past the slender body of the entity and the gallery wall, scattering all the blankets and clothes that had been wrapped around me. Without turning back or caring what the creature''s reaction might be, I ran, ran as if death itself were on my heels. I traversed the entire length of the dead-end gallery in seconds, crossed the deadly trap without any precaution, relying solely on my body''s instinct. I stopped, breathless, my heart pounding painfully in my chest, and looked behind me. The vampire was right there beside me; it no longer had the torch and was now on all fours, sniffing. It opened what was presumably its mouth, and from it came a high-pitched, thin, imploring sound. Terrified, I crawled a few steps further away, but the creature did not follow. It only stayed where it was, emitting that unbearable sound that tortured my already frayed nerves. I did not try to flee; I knew I could not escape that entity.


    I crouched down on the floor and watched it. I watched the nightmarish creature until the terror that had gripped me transformed into calm... into peace, acceptance, and a desire to understand. I slowly, very slowly, approached the entity, who only sniffed continuously, endlessly chanting its heartrending lament. I reached out with my left hand, eager to touch the horrifying figure now so close to me. But then my hand felt only the Void... the vampire was no longer there. Yet I knew it was no mere figment of my imagination, so I was not surprised when I found it behind me. This time, however, it was silent. It stood upright, and after a few moments, it drifted away, melting into the depths of the sewer.


    The encounter with the abyssal entity drained me terribly. I spent days practically lying low after that strange, dark and unusual event. I ate and slept; I slept deeply, without dreams¡ªor at least without dreams I could remember. In any case, each time I awoke from that leaden sleep, I felt rested and stronger. Fear didn''t haunt me, and I didn''t hesitate when faint flute notes and whispers of laughter and songs echoed in the underground. I went straight to investigate the source of the noises. New guests had settled in the sewers of the great city, though this time, they were somewhere beneath the Arena District. They were adults this time, ragged and frightening in appearance, spending their nights and particularly cold days in the tunnels but always gone to their activities in the capital by day. Men and women alike¡ªbeggars and thieves, people who didn''t hesitate to kill while robbing someone. They weren''t organized, but the terrible winter that had fallen upon the Imperial City had forced them together, much like wolves.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    I avoided provoking them, yet I found a peculiar pleasure in spying on their lively gatherings, their rambling conversations, and the restless, troubled sleep of the drunk. I would creep close to them, listening in on their talks; each night, I slinked among the snoring, groaning bodies as they sank into the murky waters of sleep haunted by alcohol and skooma. I stepped with utmost care, grazing their grimy clothes, trying to deduce by scent whether they were men or women. Then I would return to my little den and sleep. I ate and I slept. And thus, being well-fed and rested, eased by the peculiar amusement these new guests offered me, my body¡ªand more importantly, my soul¡ªfully recovered from the terrible shock that had shaken them. I was beginning to understand that the world was far more complex than it seemed at first glance; the encounter with that terrifying entity had toughened my spirit and awakened my curiosity, the desire to understand at least some of the strange things that happen daily around us.


    The newcomers to my domain didn''t cause me any trouble. They never tried to venture deep into the galleries under the Arena District. And, besides, one night, shortly before the end of winter, a platoon of monks from the Order entered the galleries and slaughtered them all. I was there, witnessing the entire massacre. The monks came with torches, clubs, spears, and swords, showing no mercy as they butchered everyone who slept there, exhausted from the day''s crimes. The Order members then carried all the mangled bodies out of the sewers, and silence returned once more to the underground. I was saddened by this event; it robbed me of the only amusement I could have in those places. But I soon found solace, retreating into my imagination and dreams whenever I felt bored.


    Besides, I didn''t have too much time to grow bored, as winter ended. It ended as abruptly as it had begun; a warm, fragrant breeze swept through the great city one night, and the following morning, the sun shone bright and kind in the depths of a clear blue sky. The winter snows melted with astonishing speed, and the city''s sewers flooded with gushing waters that made their merry, relentless way toward their destination, Lake Rumare. I emerged from the sewers like a little rat, drenched and foul-smelling, a rat caught by surprise by the waters in its miserable lair, but one that had survived and was now eager to enjoy life.


    The great city suddenly awoke to life under the warm spring sunlight. Yet this awakening unfolded under the worst possible auspices, as the melting snow only intensified the famine that reigned in the capital. Travel along the Empire''s roads, now transformed into veritable swamps, came to a halt, and all human activities across the realm ceased. Even the dreadful war that had savaged the Empire''s eastern territories came to a standstill, and, as I learned later, much later, diplomats from the two warring states held a first meeting during this period. An armistice was signed, diplomats exchanged polite, artful words and embraced each other, while both armies, immersed in the mud, stood face to face, watching each other with suspicion, waiting... The slow thawing of the ice that had gripped Lake Rumare in an unyielding embrace was a spectacle worth watching. All the ships trapped by the frost in the Imperial City''s harbor suffered terribly during this period, with two of them sinking, complicating port activities even after Lake Rumare had fully thawed.


    As a young and healthy being, I was swept up by the joy that accompanies the sunlit days of this season. The warm wind that constantly blew from the south, carrying at first only the dense smells of the city awakening from its long winter sleep, and later the intoxicating scents of a reviving nature, filled me with restlessness and a yearning for life, for running across the freshly green meadows and beneath the crowns of ancient trees in the city''s parks. Yet the blinding light of spring, the wide-open spaces filled with enchanting scents, the crowded and noisy streets did not suit me well after my time spent in darkness and silence. Moreover, my small shelter was now unusable, and having lost all my meager possessions to the waters that flooded the city''s underground, I was forced to struggle anew for survival. And though I was more experienced than a year prior, the general situation in the capital had changed drastically. Over the winter, Stendarr''s Order had managed to eliminate most of the city''s vagrants, both adults and children. I now had to compete with the elite of this social class, with true urban survivors, all ruthless and highly skilled.


    At the same time, the intensified poverty enveloping the city''s inhabitants in a tattered shroud¡ªand forecasting a famine of unprecedented proportions¡ªonly worsened and complicated my situation terribly. So, instead of enjoying the warm and benevolent sun, the fragrant spring breeze, and nature''s rebirth as any other child might in normal circumstances and times, I was forced to resume the grueling struggle for survival. Again, finding a quiet and hidden place where I could rest and dream became a daunting challenge. My habit of sleeping during the day and hunting at night served me well. I snuck into various cellars, especially those of craftsmen in the Merchant District, and usually managed to rest undisturbed in these dark and damp places. Undisturbed only by people, for the dampness that plagued the city until summer''s arrival seeped into my small, frail body, filling my young bones with cold and pain. But, worn out with exhaustion, I still managed to sleep and regain my strength for the endless struggle that fate had destined for me.


    During that time, obtaining the daily food had become a daunting task for most of the inhabitants of the Imperial City. Even wealthy merchants or skilled craftsmen in the Merchant District sometimes had nothing more than a porridge of oats with a few scraps of meat floating in it... Ah, the meat of those times... I shudder at the thought of it; throughout my tumultuous life, I often ate things that might seem inedible or repulsive to ordinary people, but the meat sold at exorbitant prices during that troubled spring in the capital''s markets was particularly suspect! Fish was in high demand, and when Lake Rumare finally thawed enough for fishermen to venture out, they made true fortunes. The homes of the wealthy were now closely guarded, and even in their vast kitchens, cooks sometimes shrugged helplessly, unable to prepare the lavish meals their masters were accustomed to. Nevertheless, these reserves in the wealthy people''s stores became my primary source of food until the first merchant ships managed to sail up the Niben and dock in the Imperial City''s port.


    The black market for food experienced then an unstoppable boom that even Stendarr''s well-organized and ruthless Order struggled to suppress. Most southern merchants preferred selling the bulk of their goods to the speculators prowling the port like predators. These speculators bought any food brought up the Niben wholesale at very high prices, far more than any local merchant could offer. Thus, the city''s markets were suddenly flooded with extremely expensive food. Flooded may be an overstatement for what happened then, but in reality, despite the famine ravaging the metropolis, products managed to linger in retailers'' stalls for days. But soon, the starving and furious masses attacked the stalls of these speculators, killing the merchants and taking their goods for free. The Order intervened, and at that moment, the Imperial City stood on the brink of civil war; when the first hungry people were hanged in the Arena, which then became the Order''s preferred execution site, mobs armed with all manner of household items, sharp or otherwise, began to regularly attack the patrols of warrior monks.


    Suddenly, the citizens of the capital came to see the members of Stendarr''s Order as enemies, and since the monks lacked proper military training, being nothing more than common thugs in fact, the first large-scale confrontation was won by the people. The hungry crowds collected the weapons of fallen monks, so soon Emperor Titus Mede II found himself besieged in his own palace by an outraged populace. The commander of the City Guard refused to order his crossbowmen to shoot at the crowd, which clamored to speak with the emperor; his replacement also declined any hostile action against the ragged and hostile masses; several platoons of monks from the Order melted away like the winter snows when they came into contact with the ragged and desperate front lines. And the light cavalry squadron, the capital''s only mounted military unit, was so pressed by the angry crowd, that they were forced to retreat with their horses into the Imperial Palace''s great hall. The armed populace did not follow them but remained massed around the palace, loudly demanding that the emperor come out and hear their grievances. So, Titus Mede II stepped out onto the building''s balcony and promised the starving people bread and new laws.


    And he really did try to keep the promises he made on that restless spring day... For Titus Mede II, that weak yet kind emperor, truly loved his people. But everything, absolutely everything, was against him... The greedy state to the south, the ineffective ministers in his own small council, the greed and corruption that plagued the hearts of so-called entrepreneurs, the betrayals by provincial nobility, and even the unusual weather conditions during those terrible years for Cyrodiil¡ªall these deeply eroded the already frail foundations of the Empire. The Grand Council passed law after law in the days that followed, and food prices were stabilized for a while; government officials bought all the goods from ships docking at the port and then distributed them to local merchants for sale. At fixed prices, set by law. But some merchants bringing goods from afar soon decided that the prices they received from the Emperor were far too low; tempted by the local speculators'' cartel, they began unloading their goods on the shores of Lake Rumare, from where they were transported to the city and stored in secret warehouses¡ªsome right in the docks area, others in the Merchant District. Then followed days when the Order of Stendarr fought hard against these smugglers and speculators, whose goal was to create a shortage of food in the capital''s markets; it was a fierce, balanced struggle, and only the reopening of the imperial land routes finally resolved a situation that seemed desperate and hopeless for the government.


    For me, it was a harsh and dangerous time, as the Order''s patrols filled the city''s streets day and night, conducting raids and searches in almost every storage area large enough to serve as a hideout for the speculators. Using all my newly discovered abilities, I managed to survive in this turbulent environment, but I never truly found peace until the city''s underground became livable again. The lack of any personal space, no matter how small or filthy, the endless disturbances to my sleep from the never-ending raids and street skirmishes, and the inability to store a small supply of food or spare clothes turned me once again into a skeletal, ragged creature with feverish eyes and a mind emptied of all thought. I had now become a small predator, guided only by survival instinct, and the urban jungle I lived in served only to reinforce habits and traits that would forever be etched into my soul.


    But summer arrived, and earlier than expected. The food shortages in the capital eased, and, in the end, the situation resolved itself. Drawn by rumors of famine plaguing the Imperial City, a multitude of merchants finally filled the city''s markets with foodstuffs. Given the truce in effect, even the wealthy county of Anvil was now contributing to supply the metropolis, and the city''s residents settled down and returned to their usual activities. I retreated to my old hideout beneath the Great Hall of the Imperial City. I managed to recover physically in a relatively short time; ah, youth sometimes has the power to regenerate even the most depleted bodies when they receive the food and rest so vital to all mortal beings! And the summer dragged on, hot and dry, hinting, despite appearances, at hard times ahead for the Empire... It was so hot, and the air so thick, that at midday you could sometimes see the cheerful, unsettling ghosts that dwell in the deserts of arid Elsweyr dancing in the streets! People, especially the poor and laborers, roamed the streets almost naked under the merciless blaze of the sun, which hung indifferently in the depths of a pale blue sky¡ªso pale it sometimes looked gray...


    And rain was nowhere to be found, the city''s fountains began gradually to dry up, and the level of Lake Rumare dropped so much that one day, I was able to exit the city sewers directly onto its shores. The main spillway, part of the drainage system serving Talos District, was extremely long and had been fitted with bronze grates by its builders; but these had not withstood the millennia spent in the lake''s restless waters, and now the tunnel opened wide, like a gate, onto what was usually the bottom of Lake Rumare. Now, however, it was a beach covered with fine sand, lying at the base of high, hollowed-out cliffs.


    It is astonishing what can be found in a place like this; the many centuries that had passed over the Imperial City had built, here where the bottom of Lake Rumare once lay, a true museum of Man and Mer. Or rather, they had painted a fantastic fresco, depicting vanity and humility, cruelty and tenderness, hatred and love, wealth and poverty... ah, a terrifying yet pathetic work of art at the same time. Yet there was nothing to admire; everything, absolutely everything, was merely a pathetic glorification of the vanity of our lives, so short on these beautiful and cruel lands! But the little predator I had become did not linger to marvel at all this futility; there was nothing to eat among these things, nor even a single usable piece of clothing! So, I contented myself with a long swim in the warm waters of the lake under the peaceful light of Masser. A nighttime bath beneath the starlit sky is a wonderful thing, and from that moment on, I made it a habit to do this every night spent in warm lands, wherever I could find water deep enough...


    I did not return to the capital''s underground; the foul smells had become overwhelming there, and the heat had filled the tunnels with an unbearable, suffocating air. I spent most of the summer wandering the surroundings of the Imperial City; I visited most of the villages in the area and curiously observed the people who lived and worked there.


    Very different from those who lived in the capital, they were far more generous, and often I earned my daily food just by begging. Their kindness and gullibility did not stop me from spying on them and slipping through their houses¡ªduring the day, when most were working in the fields, or at night, when families slept the sweet, deep sleep of those who earn their living by the sweat of their brows. Something whispered in my mind, telling me that things I obtained through my own skills were far better and more valuable than those offered freely and with such generosity... Now I know all too well that this was just a lie, one of the temptations that my Mistress put in my path at that time! Temptations and opportunities, oh, they were so many that my poor young mind could not resist them... There was one exception, however; among the many inns along the Red Ring Road, there was one whose innkeeper truly took a liking to me. And every time I entered her inn, she fed me treats, and sometimes even had a piece of clothing to give me as she looked at me kindly. I was always welcome there, and I was allowed to set up a place to sleep wherever I wished; the innkeeper even wanted to keep me longer, to make me live there with her and her family. Yet I was so wild and unused to kindness or love that I felt terrified whenever someone tried to get close to me. And although I enjoyed the food I received there and the undisturbed rest in that inn, I eventually stopped visiting; I simply didn''t feel at ease when treated with gentleness. Still, my soul somehow resonated with those obvious signs of goodwill, and that was the only place from which I stole nothing in my wanderings around the Imperial City.


    I also visited the huge refugee camp that had been established to the southeast of the capital, right where the road to Skingrad begins. The people there were well-organized, and despite the large cemetery that bore witness to the ravages of the cruel winter that had just passed, the residents seemed cheerful and content. A real village had formed there, and the people had cleared the land and were working the soil that the Emperor had granted them. But here I did not encounter the innocence I had found everywhere in the rural world until then; the residents were harsh and stingy, exceedingly industrious, and eager to amass wealth... My soul was filled with joy there; I had been somewhat ashamed to steal from people who had treated me with kindness and goodwill¡ªnot so ashamed that I wouldn''t snatch any unattended item that caught my eye, but there was, somewhere deep in my young soul, a twinge of regret. Here, however, in the newly founded village, I unleashed myself and committed many bad deeds, many of them completely unnecessary. I went so far that the local community instituted a nighttime guard system, which amused me greatly and heightened the wild instincts that sometimes overwhelmed me. I had tremendous fun for a while, but in the end, patrols from the Order appeared in the village. And those war dogs I despise from the depths of my soul...


    So I left that place and returned to the great city. I now missed the crowded streets, the continuous hum and the bustle that reigned over the paved streets of the metropolis. And I found the City, the great beast, teeming with life and activity. Things were going well now, and the people had reconciled with the Order of Stendarr, which, I must admit, had done many good things in and around the Imperial City. Despite the hard times that enveloped the Empire in the relentless grasp of the Dominion, the Order had managed to regulate daily life in the capital. And now, everyone who worked had bread and even a little butter, so to speak, to spread on the hot crust of fresh bread. And beer, there was plenty of beer, and it was so cheap that it could often be obtained more easily than water in those drought-ridden times...


    Yet bad news circulated among the residents of the City; the war had resumed, and Anvil, the great imperial port to the east, had been conquered by the elves. It seems, however, that this particular military effort had drained the Dominion for the moment, so that when the leaves began to yellow and the first autumn rain blessed the sun-scorched land, a treaty of peace was signed between the two powers. Despite the defeat, the imperial army paraded splendidly through Talos Plaza District, and for the first time in my life, I saw an Iron Legion. Tall, muscular men, blond with sky-blue eyes, with huge beards and mustaches that impressed me deeply¡ªtrue men of the North¡ªmade the old buildings tremble as they marched, proud and full of grandeur, through the streets of the capital. I felt an inexplicable attraction to them; though I feared and avoided people, I somehow felt love for these men, and I wished that one of them, perhaps that young and handsome captain, would carry me in his muscular arms.


    But none of them turned their gaze toward the small figure, blonde and with sky-blue eyes, who watched them intently. Filled with excitement, I cheered along with the crowd that looked on with confidence and enthusiasm at the long columns of men clad in steel, our shield against the darkness rising from the south.


    A short but very beautiful period followed in the life of the great city. Endless public parties were held in Talos Plaza District, and in the Arboretum, priests of all the gods, without exception, raised prayers of gratitude to the gentle autumn sky. The streets of the capital were adorned with wonderful lanterns that illuminated the nights with a magical glow under the high, starry sky, and the city''s population breathed a sigh of relief at last. There was peace, and bread, oil, and beer were within reach for anyone, no matter how poor they were; even the Order''s patrols used to walk the streets of the metropolis completely unarmed, sometimes adorned with the flower garlands the population offered to all those they considered their protectors.


    As for me, the relaxed life I had been leading in the surroundings of the Imperial City, as well as the unprecedented food abundance in the recent history of the capital, had only weakened all, but absolutely all, of my survival instincts that had so brilliantly kept me out of trouble until then. I had become careless, and I no longer even bothered to block the entrance points to the city sewer near my little underground shelter, which I had started to prepare for the coming winter. Just like the previous autumn, I began procuring clothing, blankets, and quilts. And pillows, oh, I love pillows, and even now, as a mature woman, accustomed to all the hardships and roughness of this wonderful world in which we have been granted to dwell for a while, I still tend to sleep in my lonely bed, holding a large pillow tightly embraced! All this excitement and my reckless movements eventually attracted the attention of a few small predators, whose leader was firmly convinced that I had killed his brother... The small blond boy, who adored his brother and listened with admiration to his stories told there, in the marble palace where they had temporarily stayed the previous winter, concluded, after receiving reports from his gang members, that the small, restless being who constantly entered and exited the city''s sewers could only be the same person who had terrorized their nights and stolen their provisions. Furthermore, he believed that I had lured his brother into a trap and killed him... As a result, after careful observation, he set a trap for me, in which I fell with no hope of escape.


    They lay in wait for me on a rainy, cold autumn night by all three sewer entrances through which I usually left my little nest, and when I emerged, they threw a fishing net over me, a piece of a trawl. They beat me terribly, slashed me with their small, wicked serrated blades, and would have certainly killed me in the end if he hadn''t appeared.


    Rasha, the young and handsome Khajiit who saved me that night from the claws of death, was on his way home to his parents'' house. As he later told me, when he saw through the light fog that cloaked the city in a damp and cold shroud the commotion caused by the struggle in which I was trapped with no way out, he was tempted to just pass by and avoid getting involved in a problem that wasn''t his. After all, Rasha had never been a knight in shining armor, like the ones from the stories my dear mother Kiersten used to tell me once. But the sound of my cries and voice strangely caught his attention, as he would later say. And something, beyond all his beliefs and habits, urged him, forced him as my dear brother Rasha put it, to come to my aid. Now, as I write these lines, I see him vividly: a tall and muscular Khajiit, his long cloak fluttering in the wind, with a short, dark-colored sword raised above his head. Those who were tormenting me did not abandon their prey easily, and I''m sure there were victims among them. But Rasha scattered them effortlessly, and then, unraveling the net I was trapped in, he lifted me in his muscular arms as if I were a mere dove feather. I was so dazed and battered from the blows that I bit and scratched him countless times. But he gently restrained my hands and carried me in his arms to his parents'' house.

 Chapter 7

    So, I was lucky enough to be adopted by Rasha''s family. And then... happiness and joy; sunny days and a lot of running with my brothers and sisters; quite strange food in the beginning, followed by a lot of delicacies...


    I slept and played with my brothers and sisters. Sometimes, I even fought with them. My dear mother Shaira used to punish us all after such incidents! On many quiet and lovely evenings, I listened to my father Ra''ha''s wonderful stories and funny jokes... Often, he would spend the whole evening caressing and kissing us all! I remember my mother Shaira sitting in a dark corner of the room, smiling and watching over us with care and love. She adored her husband and family, including me, although she ruled us all harshly! Shaira reigned over everyone in her family except Rasha, her most beloved son; he could get anything he wanted from her at any time...


    These are some of my memories from the time I lived with the cat people, in the happiest family I ever meet in my life! Now, with all of them so far away, I remember them with melancholy and even a smile... At first, I was scared then fascinated by them all. Just try to imagine a little girl, and a shy one at that, in the middle of a large Khajiit family! But now, they are all gone, as if they had never existed! Still, as long as I live and breathe, I am firmly convinced that a small part of all of them will continue to live and breathe... Inside me!


    In the beginning, I was very intimidated by the nearly constant presence of that strange being, as I thought of her back then¡ªmy dear mother, Shaira. On top of that, some of the many children of the family that had adopted me with rare gentleness and goodwill often entered the room where I lay. Mother Shaira did not allow anyone to come into my room, but you know, it''s very hard to stop a Khajiit from entering any place they wish to go! They were all very kind and friendly, but I was utterly wild from the life I had led over the past year... And they were so different from me!


    Fortunately, I couldn''t react as my instincts urged me to; I was badly injured and almost crushed by the brutal beating I had endured. So, I surrendered myself to them, and they surrounded me with love and care. Our father, Ra''ha, brought a young doctor, a Khajiit, to tend to me, and I now smile at the memory of the piercing look our mother Shaira gave him when they entered the room where she was caring for my broken body. Ra''ha immediately understood the meaning of Shaira''s gaze, and the two of them left the room almost as soon as they entered. He returned later with another doctor¡ªthis time a human, an Imperial citizen.


    I was exceptionally well cared for and nourished throughout the time I was helpless, tormented by the excruciating pain that wracked my body and soul. I often woke up in the dead of night, crying in agony, and Shaira would always come to soothe my pain with potions the doctor had brought. As I began to recover, I started to observe closely those who often came into my room. First of all, my mother Shaira. She was a middle-aged Khajiit, rather slender than stout, and quite tall for her kind. Our mom had very skilled, comforting hands and stern, commanding eyes; but there was no malice in her gaze¡ªonly authority and the habit of commanding, of arranging the lives of those around her as she thought best. Then there was Rasha... Rasha often visited me in the room where I lay; he wouldn''t speak to me but would simply sit and watch me for a long time. Sometimes, when Shaira wasn''t watching, he would gently stroke my hair and play with it. I was never afraid of Rasha¡ªnot even in the early days when I was utterly terrified by the crowd of beings swarming around me. That says a lot, for Rasha was very tall for a Khajiit and seemed sculpted from stone¡ªmuscular and tall, with eyes of a hardness I had never encountered before. Eyes like his, I would only see again many years later, far from this place, somewhere north of the Jerall Mountains... Our father Ra''ha rarely visited me while I was ill, but whenever he entered my room, I could always recognize him by his light, stealthy steps and the warm gaze he cast over me. As for my numerous brothers and sisters, I wasn''t able to tell them apart at that time. Some of them, however, brought me sweets and left them on the bedside table, while others simply watched me with interest and curiosity.


    I managed to get out of bed and take a few hesitant steps on a day when a terrible blizzard was howling outside, the wind rattling the window of my room. I could hear noises coming from the house: laughter, shouts, and exclamations of joy. For me, however, any unfamiliar sound was a threat. Despite the dizziness clouding my thoughts, I slipped out of the room, closing the door gently, without a sound.


    The noises seemed to come from a lower floor, so I began to descend the wooden staircase. The steps were steep and narrow, and each movement was a struggle, but I couldn''t stop. I had to find out what was happening¡ªwho was making those sounds and why. The noises grew clearer with every step, layering themselves over the relentless howl of the blizzard outside. Together, they formed an unsettling concert, something that set my nerves on edge, sharpening my instincts.


    I continued forward, filled with fear, and suddenly found myself in the midst of one of the most exuberant family gatherings imaginable. As I would later learn, that day marked a major religious celebration for the cat people: the Day of the Cat Mother, as they call Nocturnal, at least here in Cyrodiil. Coincidentally, it was also the birthday of their father, Ra''ha. I had hoped to remain unnoticed, but that was impossible; a human, no matter how skilled or gifted, cannot sneak unnoticed in the presence of a Khajiit¡ªmuch less an entire gathering of cat people, even when they''re deeply engrossed in one of their favorite pastimes.


    In truth, they had all been aware of my presence the moment I left my room. They didn''t react in any special way because they already considered me a part of their family and the doctor had informed them that I would soon be able to move around and take a few steps. As my dear mother Shaira later explained, they saw my recovery manifesting on such an auspicious day as an extraordinarily good omen, but nothing more.


    For me, however, it was an utterly shocking experience. In the middle of their joyous celebration of Ra''ha, one of the smaller kittens turned bright, gleaming eyes toward me and shouted, "Look! The human cub is awake!"; then he ran toward me with open arms.


    Everyone turned suddenly to face me, and under the avalanche of their curious stares, I felt exposed and defenseless. Panic surged within me; I was terrified. My instinct was to run, to hide in some dark corner until the danger passed... I turned sharply and tried to flee, but my legs gave way and I collapsed onto the thickly carpeted floor. My head spun, pain coursed through me, and my vision blurred. Barely conscious, I dimly recognized Rasha lifting me in his strong arms and I heard the angry voice of our mother, Shaira, but couldn''t understand a word she said... Then Rasha carried me gently back to my bed, laying me down with care. Moments later, Shaira entered the room and tended to one of my wounds, which had reopened and a little while after that, Ra''ha came in, softly stroking my hair as he looked at me with his warm, kind eyes.


    Shaira then asked both Ra''ha and Rasha to leave the room. She spoke to me in a calm yet firm voice, saying many things... However, in my fear-riddled mind, I retained only one message: I should not be afraid, that no one¡ªabsolutely no one¡ªin that house wished me harm, and that under no circumstances should I get out of bed until the doctor saw me again. She then brought me two large mugs of milk sweetened with honey. The second mug had a dash of a sleeping powder mixed in, and soon after, I fell into a deep sleep.


    After that, many days passed before I regained my strength, before my body¡ªand more importantly, my soul¡ªbegan to heal. My mother, Shaira, cared for me with devotion and determination; my father, Ra''ha, would visit occasionally, telling me jokes or short stories and smiling at me with kindness. My brother, Rasha, visited me quite often, but, as usual, he didn''t say a word. He would just sit and watch me, his intense gaze fixed on me. Somehow, his silent presence helped me more than Shaira''s wise words or Ra''ha''s gentle stories and warm looks; I felt as if I were drawing strength from Rasha''s cold eyes. During all those days when everyone was doing their best to be kind to me, he never once smiled. Yet he was the only one I wasn''t afraid of...


    I vividly recall a bright winter morning when my body was nearly healed. It was Rasha''s birthday, and the entire family was joyously celebrating the occasion. I was still not allowed to leave my bed, so Shaira and Rasha came to sit with me for a while, letting me share in the happiness of the day.


    My mother brought a tray laden with treats, and under the golden rays of the morning sun, my room filled with the fine aroma of spices. The warmth of the sunlight filtering through the window, combined with the presence of the two of them, stirred me gently awake but not fully. I dozed with heavy eyes, the touch of the sun''s rays almost as tender as Shaira''s hands, which had so carefully tended to my wounds. That morning, however, the usual stillness of my room was interrupted by a strange sound: the soft pitter-patter of small feet running across the floor. I turned slowly, just in time to see a very young Khajiit struggling to place a small, clumsily wrapped package on my nightstand. She gave me an awkward smile, and I reached out toward her; but before I could say anything, she vanished out the door like a shadow.


    Shaira and Rasha both watched me then¡ªshe with visible concern, he as cold as ever. When they saw me smile, they both burst into laughter.


    -You should scold Elira, Mother! Rasha said still laughing. Oh, I''ve so rarely seen him laugh...


    -Her name is Elira? Could I play with Elira a little? Or at least talk to her? I asked, my voice trembling.


    They both sighed in relief. Then Shaira gently stroked my hair and told me that very soon, I would be able to talk and play with all the children in the house.


    -Even the father might be willing to play with you, she added with a smile.


    And she wasn''t exaggerating in the slightest! Our father, Ra''ha, was perhaps the most playful and jovial member of the entire family. He, along with the little cubs, played a tremendous role in healing my soul. It wasn''t easy at all; the year I had spent alone in the depths of the Imperial City and the habits I had developed during my time as a small predator struggling to survive in a jungle filled with all kinds of voracious hunters had left me cautious and distrustful. On top of that, I had a tendency to steal anything I liked. Once I was able to move a bit more freely, I often snuck into the kitchen to steal sweets... But as I''ve already told you, dear friends, it is impossible for a human to sneak unnoticed in a Khajiit household! Everyone was fully aware of my nightly raids into the pantry filled with goodies, yet no one in the family ever said a word. No one ever reproached me for my nocturnal expeditions into the kitchen... It makes me laugh now to think that back then, I believed nighttime was the perfect moment to evade the attention of a Khajiit!


    One day, our mother Shaira gently pulled me aside and explained me many things that I had been entirely unaware of. She told me a lot about the Khajiit people, describing in detail and with examples their ability to slip unnoticed through the busiest city streets, their unparalleled acrobatic skills, and especially their capacity to see better at night than even during the day. Full of pride, I shared my own skills in all these areas with my mother; Shaira smiled and stroked my hair, then seriously advised me never to challenge or compete with a Khajiit in any of their unique talents.


    However, I was so used to simply taking whatever caught my eye or pleased me that I paid little attention to Shaira''s wise words. Often, I would steal toys from my brothers or sisters¡ªnot because I lacked toys of my own or because they wouldn''t share theirs with me, but because my innate nature as a Nightingale and the life I had led over the past year had etched deeply into my soul the desire, the need, to steal. Nocturnal, when She is upset with me, calls me a sick woman in this regard... I smile when I think about this, for my mistress is far sicker in this respect than I could ever be!


    In any case, with rare exceptions, my brothers and sisters¡ªmay Nocturnal forever bless their warm and kind souls¡ªnever reacted to these undignified acts of mine. Partly, this was because Shaira had strictly forbidden them from harming me, but mainly it was due to the fear they felt toward their brother, Rasha. He went so far as to proclaim one day, after finding me beaten by a sister whose ring I had stolen, that he would kill anyone who touched me again! Strangely, instead of feeling protected in that moment, all I felt was shame... And I tried my hardest not to take things anymore, to be content with what my dear parents gave me.


    Anyway, this problem gradually lessened over time because I didn''t have the habit of hiding or keeping the things I stole from my siblings for long. It was enough for me to enjoy the item for a few days, after which they could take it back without the slightest protest from me. They grew accustomed to this oddity of mine and, with the typical tolerance of the felines toward less intelligent species, they allowed me to satisfy my instincts without further comment.


    As for my pantry raids, my mother Shaira warned me that eating too many sweets at once would make me ill. But, as usual, I didn''t listen¡ªand indeed, one morning, I woke up so sick and with such terrible stomach pains that I avoided sweets for a long time afterward!


    Thus, in the end, and despite quite a few difficulties caused by my temperament and habits, I fully integrated into the wonderful family that Nocturnal herself had gifted to me. Physically, I made a complete recovery near the end of the winter and I was fortunate enough to be able to play with my brothers and sisters in the fresh snow that blanketed the Imperial City in its shimmering, cool mantle. It is truly delightful for a human to play with the cubs of the cat folk; they are so playful and adorable, endlessly energetic in their constant desire for movement, and extraordinarily graceful! Their reaction to snow, however, is utterly amusing; while they adore the snow as carefree and well-fed children would, they also have a slight fear of it. Much like their feline nature, they are almost always wary of anything cold and wet!You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Thus, our frolics in the wintery, festive landscape, bathed in the sunlight of late winter, often ended in mock battles. These playful skirmishes did nothing but rebuild and strengthen my muscles, which had been weakened during my prolonged illness. In this enjoyable way, spring arrived, spreading its fragrant blossoms across the capital, and found me in excellent condition. I was once again ready to face the streets of the metropolis! And I was incredibly eager to do so; thoughts of vengeance began to take shape in my mind, and at the same time, I yearned for my nocturnal escapades in search of prey...


    To be fair, I no longer had any need to scrape by for survival. The family that had adopted me was well-off, and I could request anything I desired from my parents¡ªwithin reason, of course. Yet I remained loyal to the habits I had formed and continued to roam the streets of the capital at night, returning home at dawn and going to bed just before the household began their daily routines. My brothers and sisters were utterly baffled by my behavior, while our mother, Shaira, began to closely observe my movements. I have no doubt that, on occasion, she followed me like a shadow, from a distance, through the night-shrouded streets of the Imperial City.


    My mom was likely quite intrigued and somewhat amused by what she witnessed because, one beautiful evening near the end of spring, she took me aside for a long conversation. Among other things, she told me that, based on my behavior, I was old enough to begin learning things that would be greatly useful to me in life. She also pointed out, in a very serious manner, that I needed to change my way of living¡ªat least for a while. It was very difficult to resist Shaira''s wishes; my beloved mother was accustomed to command and always achieved what she set out to do. So, despite my laziness and rebelliousness, I adopted the schedule she imposed on me starting the very next day.


    And my first lessons came directly from Shaira herself; my dear cat mother taught me how to sneak around. Ah, that was a little rough for me because she used to treat me just like her kittens. She would scratch and bite me every time I was distracted or not diligent enough... Shaira also trained me in hand-to-hand combat, especially using the claws. But here, she was very gentle with me, always wearing some soft gloves; when she thought I was good enough, she gifted me a wonderful pair of steel claws, and after slapping me a little, she told me not to wear them when playing with my little brothers and sisters.


    My beloved brother, Rasha, trained me in knife combat. He explained that the knife is a very dangerous weapon in skilled hands when dealing with the usual street thugs. Anyway, most of the humans and elves fear the knife; many of them will run only if you show it to them, he said. But try not to use it with the cat people; they are much quicker than you, and it is not useful at all against armored foes, he added. Then, he taught me how to fight with a dagger. In the end, he took me to an archery range and paid for many crossbow lessons for me. Ah, the crossbow was so heavy for my thin arms!


    My father, Ra''ha, taught me some things about breaking locks and gave me interesting hints about stealing people purses. But while my mother''s and brother''s skills reached perfection, our dear father was rather clumsy in the areas he attempted to teach me. In fact, he was more than once astonished by my remarkable abilities in picking locks of simpler construction. Thus, it was decided that I would improve in these arts on my own¡ªa prospect I didn''t mind at all; and in no time, the small pocket on the front of the apron I wore began jingling with the first copper coins I had earned through my own skills. I was so proud that I rushed into the sweet shop at the corner of our street and bought an enormous assortment of candies of every kind, treating all my brothers and sisters!


    I was now able to wander agilely and fearlessly through the streets of the capital, even in broad daylight. From those days onward, I developed the habit of always carrying a knife hidden in a sheath strapped to my left leg; ah, I think I forgot to mention, dear friends, that my most skillful hand is my left; later, however, in other places, under the blazing sun of a tropical land, I learned to fight with equal dexterity using both hands... I searched tirelessly for those who had wronged me, but by then, I was already known within the underworld of the capital, making me easy to avoid. Every single criminal in the great city knew I was under Rasha''s protection, and he was truly respected and feared by all who lived beyond the boundaries of the law. The laws themselves had softened considerably; the relentless monk patrols had been replaced by soldiers from an auxiliary cohort, and they were far more interested in the free beer and sausages they received from innkeepers than in the various petty crimes that had begun to proliferate on the streets of the Imperial City.


    Ah, the metropolis truly thrived during those times, and everyone seemed happy. Though the poor became poorer and the rich richer, in the end, everyone had their daily piece of bread assured. And their mugs of beer were always filled with this drink that was both refreshing and nourishing!


    Thus, I could not carry out my plans for revenge, and perhaps it was for the best. The truth is, deep in my heart, I didn''t truly desire it. It was more of a childish ambition, and the words of the venerable priest of Mara often echoed in my mind. And it is especially easy, particularly for someone like me, to forgive in peaceful and prosperous times... Forgiveness and mercy often bring far greater satisfaction than the dark and bloody revenge!


    And I benefited greatly from abandoning my vengeful thoughts. I was so enveloped in the love and understanding of my new family that my soul was completely at peace. Ah, my brothers and sisters, my dear mother Shaira, and my beloved father Ra''ha understood me in every way! Where any other family would have struggled greatly to tolerate many of my habits and joys¡ªwhich, to be honest, were quite strange¡ªamong these cat folk, I found nothing but understanding and acceptance.


    It wasn''t surprising, though; apart from their feline nature, the whole family, except for the very small ones, me and Rasha, was somehow involved in the business of the Thieves'' Guild. And my mother was a really important person in the Guild with some good connections in the city administration also.


    The Thieves'' Guild in the Imperial City during those years... I cannot say much about this organization, which also vanished, consumed by the flames of the Great War; not more than what I could glean from a few dusty chronicles or old, mold-eaten letters. However, from the long columns of numbers and numerous commercial ledgers, from securities and mortgage documents found in the incomplete archive I discovered in Riften, it is quite clear that, at that time, it operated more as a financial institution and had lost much of its original nature and essence. In any case, my mother Shaira never introduced me to this world, and it is likely that Nocturnal''s hand was at play here, as it was throughout much of my earlier life.


    As I''ve already mentioned¡ªand I feel like I can never tire of emphasizing this¡ªmy father, Ra''ha, was an exceptionally kind person, and all the kittens adored him, while they generally feared their mother, Shaira. In his youth, he had been a thief, though not a very skilled one, truth be told. However, it was through this path that he met Shaira, and together they built a beautiful and happy family, where the father''s kindness blended so wonderfully and harmoniously with the mother''s determination and cleverness. By the time I lived with them, Ra''ha had given up thievery entirely and had become something of a comedian; he worked as an actor at the largest theater in the Imperial City.


    My father was incredibly skilled in the art of improvising charming stories and delightful jokes. He was perfectly fluent in both languages: the common tongue, widely spoken on the streets of the capital and across the Empire, and Ta''agra, the melodious and rich language of the cat-folk. This language is a true cultural treasure¡ªsubtle and extraordinarily difficult for anyone who isn''t a Khajiit to learn! Yet, under Ra''ha''s guidance, I managed to learn it surprisingly quickly, despite my struggles with foreign languages. It''s true that the entire family I lived happily among made great efforts to help me, but my father''s brilliance as a teacher contributed enormously to the complete success of my endeavor. Ra''ha was kind and cheerful, and no matter how distracted I might have been, he always knew how to capture my attention and sustain my interest in this challenging task. I cannot help but compare his teaching methods to those of Shaira or Rasha... As I''ve mentioned before, I loved all three of them deeply; yet, while Ra''ha would smile and joke whenever I slacked off, Shaira would scratch and bite me and Rasha would throw me a merciless glare and mutter through gritted teeth, "You''re so stupid!"


    Regardless of their individual styles, I absorbed precious knowledge from all three of them. They were persistent and generous in their efforts to teach me, never giving up until they had passed on their full range of skills. And so, I quickly transformed from a wild, ignorant, and dirty creature into a charming teenager who was cheeky and spirited. My brother Rasha played an extraordinary role in this metamorphosis. He was the leader of a gang of ruffians who provided "protection" to the merchants and craftsmen in our district. In this capacity, he spent most of his time roaming the streets of the Merchant District in the company of his comrades. And since Rasha was like a god to me, I couldn''t help but follow him constantly¡ªjust like an eager puppy trailing its master.


    At first, I kept a considerable distance, too scared of the loud voices and fierce appearances of his companions. But as time passed, I got closer and closer until I eventually found myself walking among them on the old streets of our neighborhood. None of them mocked me; on the contrary, before long, they all seemed relieved whenever I showed up. One of Rasha''s trusted men, Rolf, told me one warm summer afternoon, as we were sipping cold lemonade on a terrace, that their leader was much more lenient with them when I was around. And he wasn''t lying¡ªI could see it for myself; Rasha''s behavior almost always changed when I was around. He cared deeply for me and, sometimes during their street battles, I would catch my brother anxiously searching for me with his eyes...


    I, however, saw all their skirmishes with the rival gangs as nothing more than a game. I would laugh and dance in the middle of these fierce men as they cursed and fought with fury! I was so agile and quick that I could easily weave between them, avoiding any accidental or intentional blows. And at the end of the fight, Rasha would always scoop me up in his arms and carry me home to our parents. It felt so wonderful in his arms; I felt protected and powerful, and his cold, ruthless eyes were like fountains of energy for me! We were truly very happy together, and though Rasha tried hard to maintain his aloof and tough demeanor, he even began to behave a little more kindly toward the rest of the family.


    Shaira was particularly grateful to me for this. Though she disapproved of her eldest son''s activities, she became much calmer and more relaxed knowing we were together on the restless streets of the capital. My mother even began to genuinely love me, and we would often spend quiet hours talking about our favorite subject: Rasha.


    As for my other brothers and sisters, I could write an entire novel about them alone! But I''m sure even my most devoted reader would tire of such a digression, so I will only briefly mention a few highlights. There were the incredible acrobatic talents of my sister Nahshi, who trained with the members of the Imperial Circus in the metropolis; the unparalleled charm and grace of my sister Elira; and the extraordinary skill of my brother Ra''irr, who could speak without even opening his mouth... Ah, they were all so talented and intelligent, and I feel like I''m doing them a grave injustice by mentioning only a few of them! So, I shall let them all rest in peace, and I hope that Nocturnal keeps their souls in her care forever.


    I''ve lived very happily in their family for four years, and I deeply loved them all; in return, they responded with great affection. That big family was a true haven for me¡ªa haven and a school where I learned many useful things. Above all, they taught me how to live among people. I was very lucky that they were so similar to me; despite their entirely different nature, spiritually, we were the same. And our Goddess smiled down upon us with love and care.


    Unfortunately, though, she is a deceitful and demanding entity. Nocturnal tends to get bored very quickly, and on top of that, the other one¡ªthe Spider¡ªwas also watching me. Her gaze and whispers seemed to cast a dark spell over the happy family... Toward the end of my time with them, I was constantly aware that something bad was bound to happen. All seemed the same as before, but Rasha became unusually relentless and violent, more so than ever. And everything around me seemed to subtly change, and I, too, felt restless. I imagined I was simply worried about Rasha, who often argued with the members of our family, especially with our mother, Shaira. But it was more than that; now I know that I felt a painful separation looming, one that would shatter the peace I had found here, in the midst of this welcoming family that now regarded me as a daughter or sister.


    I gave Rasha the amulet I had worn uninterrupted for several years. I wasn''t sure why I did it, but looking back on the events that followed, I am certain the Goddess wanted to accompany my brother on the first steps of the path destined for both of us. Of course, Rasha initially refused to accept what seemed to him like a cheap trinket and a symbol of a cult he neither understood nor wanted to. However, his attitude abruptly changed when I pressed the amulet into his hand. As always in moments like this, the amulet seemed to come alive; it was warm and appeared to vibrate slightly, and Mara... well, Mara smiled unsettlingly at both of us! Our mother, Shaira, reacted cheerfully to our little scene and uttered the first prophetic words of many she would speak in the future:


    -Now I feel completely at peace, Rasha! I am certain now that Elsie''s spirit will watch over you, even in the darkest and most perilous places you may tread!


    I smiled timidly, and Rasha laughed heartily. When Shaira told us that, far beyond the Jerall Mountains, existed a fascinating tradition regarding amulets like this one, we were both surprised... I, a bit embarrassed but suddenly thrilled by the idea, and Rasha, skeptical but visibly intrigued! Then, Shaira embraced us both and looked at us with love.


    In the days that followed, Rasha and I wandered the streets of the Imperial City together, inseparable. Rasha was unusually kind and attentive to me, and I was both amazed and overjoyed, savoring his presence and the clear light of the spring days. Ah, I was so young, and I couldn''t have guessed that, in truth, my brother was saying goodbye to the city where he had spent his childhood and grown up! We shared unforgettable moments beneath the fresh foliage of the ancient trees in the Arboretum; we watched the bustling activity at the docks together and walked unafraid along the narrow, treacherous streets of the Waterfront District. During important religious festivals or whenever it was permitted, we would visit the grand reception hall of the Imperial Palace together; there, I felt wonderfully at ease, gazing at the gleaming white walls of intricately carved marble while holding Rasha''s hand. At dusk, we sat on the newly opened terraces of upscale establishments in the Talos Plaza District, talking about anything that came to mind. It was profoundly comforting and delightful for me, as Rasha, when he chose to speak, always shared wise and captivating thoughts. He would also invent stories that I listened to, utterly enthralled, marveling at his talent and knowledge...


    But, as with all good things in life, these joys did not last long. One day, without saying goodbye to anyone, Rasha left our parents'' home forever. That morning, when I realized what had happened, something broke inside me, and I knew that my happy life here would soon come to an end. And, shortly after this, the dream occurred.

 Chapter 8

    That dream... I can recall it as vividly as if I had dreamt it yesterday, and I believe it will remain etched in my memory with all its wealth of details for the rest of my life. It was a hot summer night, and, tormented by longing for Rasha, I couldn''t fall asleep until dawn began to break. And then I dreamed...


    I was running through a dense pine forest; the strong scent of resin, the ground so soft it felt like silk, and the mist that deepened the usual darkness of such gloomy woods even in the middle of the sunniest day created around me a realm that seemed to be both unreal and magical. I suddenly stopped in a small clearing where the vertical rays of the noonday sun barely managed to thin the damp mist; I stopped because I heard my name being called by many overlapping voices! Frightened, I looked around, and then I saw it...


    Through the heavy mist, a raven, perched on a gnarled branch, turned to look at me with an eye that gleamed like a shard of midnight. A low voice, flowing like honey laced with venom, whispered my name: Elsie... And in that moment, I knew¡ªthe shadows had chosen me; I was filled with fear and amazed at the same time. And I ran¡ªI ran until the shadows of the day grew longer, while the raven laughed behind me...


    Then suddenly was night and, under the high starry sky, a woman of peculiar appearance and exquisite beauty stood tall, her presence commanding, like the queen of shadows. Her hair flowed in cascading waves, so black it seemed to devour the moonlight, while her eyes gleamed with a cruel kind of wisdom. Draped in a cloak that shimmered like the night sky, she appeared less human and more like an embodiment of the Void itself... And yet, across from her, there stood another figure¡ªpetite, golden-haired, clothed in a dress adorned with delicate snowflake patterns. This other woman seemed fragile, like a snowdrop blooming in the darkness, yet there was a faint defiance in the way she held herself. Her wide, innocent eyes seemed to plead for understanding, though they were tinged with the weight of an unspoken destiny.


    "Listen, my pet," the tall woman purred, her voice smooth yet cutting like a blade wrapped in silk. "For thou art mine own chattel, and times of tribulation do lie afore thee, I shall bestow upon thee one of mine own most cherished gifts for a worm such as thee. Use it well, and forget not that thy woeful life belongs to me! Forget not that thy soul I can hold ceaselessly at the boundary betwixt thy miserable realm and mine own domain. Wherein I keep the soul of thy unworthy mother..."


    Her words struck like the tolling of a funeral bell, each one reverberating with a promise of despair! And yet, beneath her malice, there lingered something unsettlingly tender...


    "Ah, but don''t take my words to heart," she continued, a playful smile curling her lips. "Verily, I do take pleasure in possessing thee, mine own sweet worm, yet I shall chastise thee with severity each time thou doth transgress against me! Thus, until our next rendezvous, take heed of thy life, for it is mine own possession..."


    Her voice faded like smoke, but her presence lingered, oppressive and inescapable and the golden-haired woman in the dream did not move, her expression torn between awe and fear. The scent of nightshade hung heavy in the air, and the tall woman''s long cloak seemed to move of its own accord, as though alive... And then, the dream dissolved into darkness, leaving me with a deep, unshakable chill that clung to my very soul.


    Overwhelmed by the terrible heat and utterly exhausted from the dream I had, I woke up dazed and frightened; strangely, however, I wholeheartedly wished to see that terrible and majestic woman again. Moreover, what I had heard about my mother Kiersten''s soul ¡ª whom, to my shame and sorrow, I had already forgotten ¡ª deeply unsettled me. I did not yet understand why she claimed my mother''s soul or why she sought to burden me with this knowledge; and this question tormented me for a long time...


    But now I know that Nocturnal, my beloved mistress, lied shamelessly. Anyway, it is in her nature to do so; Nocturnal''s lies are never without purpose, and her truths are never complete. Even her deceptions serve a design known only to her... From the beginning I hated her, and I worshiped her. How could I not? She was a goddess, and I was her chosen... Her words hurt more than any blade, but they also bound me to her in ways I could not yet comprehend!


    And her gift... It was truly something special, a precious gift for someone like me, just like she said. I could benefit from Nocturnal''s bestowal for the first time on a day when I was being chased by a few vigilantes. Exhausted, I turned into a narrow and dark alley where I suspected there might be a sewer opening. But there wasn''t, so terrified, I pressed against a wall and drew my knife... However, the vigilantes rushed past me, and even though one of them looked straight into my eyes, they continued on! I was amazed and sure that I possess an extreme power that will open doors inaccessible until then... However, I must add a word of caution here for any of my readers who might one day become the "beneficiary" of Nocturnal''s gifts or favors. Like Her, all of Her blessings and offerings are dazzling and immensely valuable, yet they are also shrouded in the fog of deception and disillusionment... A disillusionment that can sometimes prove fatal! Never, and I repeat, never place your full trust in anything bestowed upon you by Nocturnal! Do not wager your life on any situation involving Her gifts, I implore you, friends!


    The Mistress of Shadows is so capricious and cruel¡ªdivinely cruel, of course, in a way that transcends anything we experience in our ephemeral and fragile world¡ªthat she sometimes delights in abruptly withdrawing any blessing she has granted, whether temporarily or permanently, and without the slightest warning.


    Even this gift of becoming invisible to the eyes of those who hunt me is incredibly fragile: I can in no way control the moment it activates; I only know with certainty that I must be out of sight for it to even have a chance to trigger. And as for the moment I become visible to mortal eyes once more... Oh, it is better not to speak of it! It is completely random, with no connection to my actions or my will...


    In those confused days for me, as I struggled to comprehend the unpredictable nature of Nocturnal''s gift, the city seemed to be caught up in its own game of shadows. Restlessness spread through the streets, as if unseen forces were subtly intruding into the lives of mortals. The atmosphere in the capital remained as it had been lately, yet unease was growing among the people. Whispers and rumors began to spread through the city streets, and residents started stockpiling food. The poor, of course, did so out of fear, while the wealthy pursued different concerns¡ªgold and precious stones were in high demand, and the prices of houses and land were plummeting.


    Troubling news echoed from distant lands: in the north, the province of Skyrim was rife with major unrest, and its once-inexhaustible supply of recruits for the Imperial legions seemed to have dried up. It was also said that the Dominion had filled the fortified city of Anvil with first-rate combat forces, veterans of previous wars. The Imperial army, in response, had been deployed to the County of Skingrad, with one legion marching toward Bruma. For the first time in centuries of relative peace, male citizens of the Empire aged 15 to 25 were being mobilized and trained for war.


    Meanwhile, the warrior monks of the Order of Stendarr once again took on the heavy burden of maintaining order on the streets of the Imperial City, their presence growing more visible as they intensified efforts to curb criminal activity. Stendarr''s tribunal presided over most of the crimes committed in the metropolis, delivering swift and severe judgments.


    As for me, however, these events and worries barely touched me; my life continued as before, except for the ache of missing my brother Rasha. I constantly asked my mother Shaira when he would return, and she would always reply, "Soon, my dear, soon."


    One day, worn down by my relentless questions, Shaira took me aside and said in a somber tone:


    -Elsie, Rasha has died. He will never come back to us, and it is time for you to accept this truth.


    -No, Mom, Rasha can''t die! He''s too strong and clever! Why are you tormenting me with these lies instead of telling me where he really is? I shall embark upon a quest, ask his friends, and I''ll bring him back!


    Shaira looked at me, her expression heavy with sadness. For a moment, she hesitated, and then she spoke softly:


    -You''re right, my dear. Rasha hasn''t died, but... it would have been better if he had. He walks a dark path now, in a land of shadows and despair. It is better that you do not seek him.


    -I will search for him in the darkest corners of the world if I must, Mom. I will bring him back here, to you, to us!


    To my shock and dismay, Shaira began to cry. I had never seen her shed tears before. She embraced me tightly and whispered through her sobs:


    -If you find him, Elsie, he will take you with him into Sithis''s realm. And then neither of you will return...


    We wept together in each other''s arms for what felt like an eternity; now, as I reflect on the things my beloved mother Shaira told me during that time, I am amazed by what I can only describe as a prophetic gift she seemed to possess in the last year I spent as part of her family. Her words often carried a strange weight, as if she saw not only the past and present but also glimpses of a shadowed future that even she could not fully grasp. Between us, a rare bond had formed, rooted in our shared love for the same man, whose seemingly permanent departure only brought us closer. Many of the long, languid days of that final summer were spent in conversation, with Shaira speaking endlessly of Rasha. She shared stories of his childhood, his illnesses, and the challenges she faced in raising him. According to her, Rasha had been a brilliant but difficult child¡ªoften distant, his sharp mind matched by a puzzling indifference to the joys and sorrows of those around him. He attended family celebrations with an air of disinterest, as if such moments were beneath him. Yet Shaira was proud of him, though her pride was tinged with sorrow. On one of those days, she said something that has haunted me ever since:


    "Rasha will not return to me, Elsie. But one day, he will return to you. And when he does, he will place you, with all the love he can muster, into the arms of your next mother."


    I did not understand her then. Her cryptic words seemed to hint at something both tender and terrible, a future that I was too young to comprehend. I smiled, trying to reassure her, and declared that she was my only mother and I could never imagine having another. But Shaira did not share my certainty. Her gaze turned stern, her voice steady as she replied:


    "You must grow up, Elsie. You must learn to face the world with strength and responsibility. The time for childish dreams is over."


    Her words cut deep, not because of their harshness, but because they carried a weight I could not yet grasp. Shaira often spoke to me like this¡ªsevere and unyielding, her piercing eyes demanding more from me than I thought I could give. Yet, I treasured those moments because, although her rebukes sometimes stung, they were the clearest signs of her love.


    She spoke of Rasha''s strong aversion to alcohol and to the moon sugar¡ªa wondrous but dangerous gift bestowed upon the cat-folk by the Goddess. Shaira herself was an avid consumer of this divine product, and during those precious days, she introduced me to its pleasures. Yet even as she did, she cautioned me:


    "Too much greed for it, my dear, and it will consume you. Everything we touch of the divine carries both joy and ruin."


    Her words stayed with me, as did her voice, gentle yet firm, filled with a wisdom that seemed almost otherworldly. It was only later, long after her second prophecy shattered my world, that I truly understood the depth of her foresight and the weight of her love.


    Shaira never truly relaxed unless we were speaking of Rasha¡ªor of moon sugar. My mother took immense pride in Rasha''s apparent aversion to alcohol and to the wondrous gift bestowed by the Goddess upon the cat-folk: moon sugar. She, however, was a devoted consumer of this divine substance. During those cherished days we spent together, Shaira introduced me to the pleasures it could bring. She spoke of it as though it were a sacred connection to the divine, a fragment of the Goddess''s own grace. But even as she guided me through its wonders, she never failed to warn me of its dangers. "The gift is sweet, Elsie," my mother would say, "but it is also a test. Those who take too much are bound to lose themselves."


    And so, the days of that final summer I spent in the Imperial City passed quickly¡ªtoo quickly, in fact. Or maybe it only seems that way now, as I look back with nostalgia at the wonderful, carefree life I was fortunate enough to live within the embrace of that fascinating and kind-hearted family.


    I continued to spend much of my time with Rasha''s gang. Rolf, who had taken over leadership after my brother''s departure, was very fond of me and never missed an opportunity to show it, while the other members of the gang were equally attached to me, treating me as their lucky mascot. But the times had visibly changed, and our lives were no longer as easy as they had been before. In Rasha''s day, it was enough for Nash, our treasurer, to walk into the merchants'' shops in our neighborhood with a smile, and they would promptly pay their protection fees while bowing and grinning obsequiously. But now, with the warrior monks of the Order of Stendarr stomping through the streets of the capital in their heavy boots, the craftsmen and merchants had become insolent, outright telling us that they no longer needed our protection!


    My friends decided that these people needed to be punished and brought back to the "right path"¡ªfrom their perspective, of course. I eagerly embraced their initiative, even contributing my own malicious ideas. We began a full-blown campaign of terror against those people who, in truth, were merely earning their livelihood through hard work and skill. As is often the case in such situations, our primary targets were individuals who weren''t truly wealthy¡ªthey couldn''t afford private guards, and their voices carried little weight with the civil authorities. So, apparently, it seemed like we had every chance of succeeding in our intimidation efforts...If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Though, the Order of Stendarr was vigilant, and above all, my mistress Nocturnal¡ªwho had recently made her definitive appearance in my life¡ªwas determined to thoroughly enjoy herself at my expense. Thus, the two forces that would dramatically alter my life acted seemingly independently, and I unwittingly stepped irreversibly onto the path of ruin... In this confession, I won''t blame anyone else for what happened next; the Order was a strict institution¡ªperhaps too strict and inflexible¡ªbut it merely sought to preserve order and peace during very challenging times for the Empire. As for Nocturnal... well, the Mistress of Shadows never forced me to do anything! She merely nurtured the seeds that had been planted long ago... And I, for my part, was utterly delighted by everything happening around me and by the misdeeds I began to commit in those days.


    My friends weren''t exactly subtle, and their methods of intimidation typically involved physical threats, which, if necessary¡ªor sometimes simply for fun or to set an example¡ªwere carried out swiftly and with extreme severity. However, as I played no role in these physical confrontations, I began to grow bored with the monotony of our daily routine; moreover, the old methods no longer worked as effectively, given that the Order''s patrols were highly vigilant and intervened promptly in any situation involving physical altercations.


    So one day, I pulled Rolf aside, and over a sumptuous meal generously accompanied by the sweet, sparkling wine from the vineyards on the hills overlooking the city of Anvil, I shared my ideas about how I thought our situation could improve.


    Although what I was saying to him in a calm voice, deliberately detached and uninfluenced by the passion I felt inside, seemed difficult to achieve and the results highly dubious, Rolf finally agreed to discuss my proposals at one of the gang''s meetings. It''s very likely that the wine and fine food played a major role in his decision¡ªa factor I had anticipated beforehand. These meetings were held periodically and were a tradition inherited from Rasha''s time; it was during these gatherings that the gang members were paid their wages and given additional benefits if they had distinguished themselves in some way. At the same time, following the curious tradition of free brotherhoods, such as those of the brigands of the forest, important decisions regarding the gang''s future activities were sometimes made through individual voting. Rolf himself had been confirmed as the gang''s leader during one such meeting, held after my brother''s abrupt departure. I found this procedure strange and even harmful. In fact, in none of the many legal or illegal organizations I would later become part of in my life was this kind of approach ever adopted. However, I didn''t take long to see the advantages of this procedure in this particular case, especially since I sensed Rolf was in fact very reluctant about my proposals. It''s quite likely he didn''t take them seriously and considered them merely the silly ramblings of the sweet and mischievous little girl who accompanied them on their escapades.


    As a first step, in the days that followed, I spent a lot of time in Nash''s company. Ah, our treasurer was deeply troubled and even beginning to dread the days when the gang''s wages were due. For him, in the newly created circumstances, it was becoming increasingly difficult to secure the necessary funds, especially as the gang''s primary income¡ªthose "protection taxes"¡ªwas being refused by more and more merchants. So I did everything I could to win him over, to flatter him, and at the same time, to amplify the fears and anxieties that had been haunting him lately. First, once he started paying some attention to what I was saying, I suggested that I could directly contribute to the gang''s prosperity by successfully carrying out various robberies if I were supported by a few gang members. He laughed kindly and patted me gently on the head. At the same time, he expressed doubts about my ability to break into merchants'' or craftsmen''s locked homes.


    "And then, once you''re inside, how would you avoid being caught by the owner? Besides, at night, in the dark, no one can manage in a house they don''t know..." Nash added, smiling at me.


    I then told him that, in fact, for the first attempt, I planned to act in broad daylight, but I would absolutely need the support of two gang members to follow my instructions. He laughed even harder and then told me he would think about it.


    It''s no surprise, then, that even though Rolf kept his word and spoke to the gang about my ideas, no one took them seriously. When Nash suggested we might give it a try, the gang members burst into laughter, saying they had no intention of being ordered around by a little girl. It''s true that they were all very kind to me, and in the end, they playfully ruffled my hair, but that meeting left me particularly irritated; and at the same time, it filled me with determination to show them what I was capable of.


    I decided to focus my attention on the butcher who had broken my bones some time ago; this was a personal matter, and it only fueled my ambition and desire to pull off a grand heist. I spied on his home and habits for several days and nights. I no longer wandered with my gang, and my friends were convinced I was upset with them. I didn''t go home during those days either, which earned me some serious scolding from my mother, Shaira. But back then, nothing else mattered to me; all my attention and thoughts were now focused on that little man, sallow-faced and with badger-like eyes.


    I came to know his house, his family, and their routines perfectly. I spent several nights carefully studying his residence. It was a tall and somewhat narrow house located on one of the winding lanes of the Talos Plaza District. On the ground floor of this house were the shop, which was the largest room in the entire building, and the kitchen; both were connected by a narrow hallway that featured two doors: one leading to a very neglected inner courtyard that resembled more of a well, and the other opening onto the street. From this hallway, a steep and narrow staircase led up to the two floors used as living quarters by the butcher''s family, as well as to the attic.


    I had come to know all the items of any notable value scattered through the cupboards, drawers, and elsewhere across the two bedrooms and the living room. And, most importantly, I knew that the merchant had a secret spot where he kept some of his money in a cabinet filled with junk in the attic of his house. I knew his wife well¡ªa gentle, timid woman deeply devoted to Stendarr¡ªand I knew everything there was to know about his two daughters. They had a curious habit of attending school run by the god''s nuns every workday. This detail caught my attention particularly, and although it was absolutely irrelevant to what I was planning, I spent a lot of time carefully and delightedly observing the activities the girls engaged in under the nuns'' supervision.


    The students usually sang hymns to Stendarr, which bored me terribly, though I greatly enjoyed the sound of their young, crystalline voices blending harmoniously, which left a very pleasant impression on my soul. They also read from heavy, thick books and, to my great surprise and delight, wrote on wax tablets using lead styluses. And, as the crowning delight of these activities, the students enjoyed breaks during which they played joyfully in the school''s lush garden.


    Of course, there were less pleasant activities from my perspective: the girls were taught to sew, weave, and cook various dishes or were made to sweep and shake out all the rugs in the building. Ah, but I''ll stop here¡ªjust thinking about such chores makes me feel ill... The memory of those terrible days spent in the orphanage''s laundry will never leave me!


    But I wished I could read, especially since some of the passages the students read aloud were very interesting and captivating.


    None of this mattered to me during those days, though. My goal was set, and now all that remained was to execute the first major heist of my life. So, one morning, just at dawn, I broke into the butcher''s attic through the skylight and began rummaging through the junk-filled cabinet.


    There was a lot of coins in that pathetic hiding place he had put together. The total value wasn''t particularly high, as it consisted of only a few gold pieces, many silver coins, and an entire bag of copper coins. I decided I had to take absolutely everything, but for someone like me, the heavy bag of copper coins was too much to carry. Especially since I intended to leave the same way I came, navigating the steep and treacherous paths of the tile-covered roofs.


    And, on top of it all, I didn''t have much time at my disposal since I had meticulously planned that morning of an exceptionally special day, with every hour playing its part according to the family''s daily routine. As quickly as I could, I made small sacks out of some old bed sheets I found in the attic, tearing them into pieces. I filled each little sack with coins and then tied all the pouches along lengths of rope I found discarded in a corner. Taking a few risky ventures across the rooftops of neighboring houses, I stashed all the bundles of coins inside the chimneys of the adjacent homes. I tied each end of the rope securely around its respective chimney and then returned, sweaty and exhausted, to the attic of the house I had begun to rob methodically.


    I had a few moments to catch my breath while the entire family woke up, had breakfast, and tidied up the house. Then, the daughters left for school as usual, and I immediately slipped into their room, taking from the drawer where I knew they kept their few small, inexpensive pieces of jewelry. With immense satisfaction, I tucked them into the small pocket on the chest of the apron I wore over my dress.


    Next, I waited for the butcher''s wife to leave for the market, as she did almost every day. As soon as she left the house, I carefully explored every room in the house, knowing that the maid, who was busy in the kitchen, could climb up to the family''s living quarters at any moment. I ransacked all the bedrooms and the living room, taking everything that was shiny, small, or remotely valuable. Two rather large silver candlesticks gave me some trouble, but since I was determined not to leave anything behind, I wrapped them in a large handkerchief and tied them with a ribbon the mistress of the house was particularly proud of.


    Moving awkwardly under the weight of all the trinkets and glittering items I had stuffed into every single pocket I had, I went even further and rolled up a small, thick, and exquisitely woven rug, managing to hoist it onto my shoulder with great effort. Exhausted, I slipped out through the narrow staircase and into the butcher''s backyard. From there, I spent the rest of the day till noon transporting the stolen items to a pre-arranged hiding spot in the main sewer channel beneath the Talos Plaza District. By the time I finished, my arms were aching, and I was drenched in sweat, but I felt a deep sense of satisfaction. The first phase of my plan was now complete...


    I caught my breath for a moment and then went to enjoy a lavish lunch at an expensive restaurant near the Temple of the One. Oh, I stuffed myself so much and was so tired that I decided to rent a room in the adjacent hostel, leaving instructions to be woken up an hour before sunset. I slept like an innocent child with no sins weighing on their conscience. Rested and in good spirits, I raced back to our house. Cautiously, I paused at the threshold, trying to figure out where Shaira was and what she was doing at that moment. But, as expected, I couldn''t avoid my mother, and she caught me just as I was trying to sneak into the girls'' room, where I slept and kept my belongings.


    She confronted me rather sternly, asking where I had been the past few days and, most importantly, what I was up to next. Putting on my most innocent face and looking her straight in the eyes, I began to tear up and muttered a few incoherent words. Shaira softened a bit, her expression turning concerned, and when she reached out her hand toward me, I darted past her as quickly as I could and bolted into the girls'' room. I slammed the door behind me and bolted it.


    Looking around, I saw that only my sister Elira was there¡ªthe sweetest and most endearing of them all. She stared at me in astonishment, a hint of fear beginning to flicker in her playful eyes. But I smiled at her and raised a finger to my lips. She smiled back, nervously, and sat down on her little bed, watching me intently. Outside, in the hallway, poor Shaira was shaking the door and calling my name, but I didn''t answer. Instead, I rushed to my small personal wardrobe.


    I quickly changed into my most beautiful dress, tossed off my heavy boots, and slipped into a pair of satin slippers that I reserved for holidays. I let down my long, golden hair from its braid and ran a comb through the silky tresses a few times, the strands cascading around me like a diaphanous embrace.


    Then I ran to the open window, paused for a moment, and shouted to our mother not to worry and to forgive me. "I''ll be back tonight and will explain everything!" I added, straddling the windowsill. The window was on the second floor of our house, and I gripped the drainpipe securely as I slid down its length to the flower-filled courtyard below. The yard was teeming with stems and leaves from that plant so dear to all in the cat-folk lineage¡ªand even to me.


    It was already late, and I began to fear I was running behind. Ah, that copious meal and the afternoon nap! Two mistakes I could not forgive myself for! I ran breathlessly toward the butcher''s shop; the city streets were bustling with people at this hour of the summer evening, as the velvet night began to settle over the restless and ever-busy metropolis. Weaving my way through the crowd, I finally reached the butcher''s shop just as the sun dipped below the horizon.


    To my shock, instead of being closed with its shutters drawn, the shop was teeming with noisy customers. A few were even waiting outside on the street! Thrilled and nervous, I hid behind a pile of garbage awaiting the waste cart drivers and kept a vigilant eye on the shop''s door as customers entered and exited in a way I had never seen before.


    At last, when night had almost completely blanketed the capital''s streets in its silken mantle, the final customer emerged, arms loaded with packages. I hurriedly ran to the shop and burst in like a storm, screaming as though out of my mind while staring at the two merchants in horror.


    "A scoundrel with a lit torch is on your roof, master! Smoke is already coming from the attic!"


    The butcher opened his mouth and stared at me in desperation. Oh, I could hardly hope that such a self-assured and cunning man could be so easily deceived; but I''m sure that evening his soul was torn¡ªon one hand, by the joy of the unexpected crowd of customers who swarmed his shop, and on the other, by the news he had received throughout the day about the disappearance of various small trinkets and relatively precious items from his house. He shouted in a choked voice to his apprentice while locking the counter, from which the delightful sound of gold and silver coins emanated:


    "Stay here, Jon! Watch the shop!"


    He grabbed the club he had once used to crush my bones years ago and raced up the inner staircase, from which uneasy voices soon began to echo. But above all, moments later, an unearthly and utterly despairing shout shook the entire house. It was as if all the disappointment of this world had been compressed into that single cry!


    The butcher had reached the attic and discovered the chaos I had left behind, not to mention the old cupboard with its door wide open and its secret compartment completely emptied!


    The apprentice looked at me hesitantly but could see nothing more than a very young, exceptionally well-groomed woman with golden hair cascading in silky waves over her petite figure. I gazed back at him with wide, innocent, and frightened eyes.


    He whispered, "Please, Miss, could you watch the shop for a moment until I get back?" and without waiting for an answer, darted up the stairs after his master.


    I was overwhelmed with a joy akin to ecstasy. I grabbed the cleaver embedded in the table where the butcher carved meat and smashed the counter lock without hesitation. I filled a bag I found hanging on a hook with all the coins from the drawer. And let me tell you, dear friends, there was a lot of money there! Far more than I had expected or thought reasonable for a day''s trade, even on the eve of a major holiday!


    In a mockery, I scattered a few copper coins on the floor and walked out of the shop, calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. Very soon, I disappeared with my hefty prize into the shadows of the secondary streets in the Talos Plaza District.


    I was exhilarated and felt powerful¡ªunbelievably powerful. I was utterly convinced of my great talents and skills. In those special, spellbinding moments, a dark melody of joy and triumph resonated in my soul.


    Ah, how na?ve that little golden-haired girl with her wide, innocent eyes was! I smile sadly now as I write these lines, knowing with certainty that Nocturnal plays a strange and cruel game every time a thief embarks on a heist or picks someone''s pocket. My beloved mistress is so perverse that she isn''t content with the ordinary emotions her divine game evokes. Sometimes she cheats¡ªand she does so in such a blatant manner that I can''t help but marvel at how shameless she is!


    Oh, as I understand years later, on that fateful night, Nocturnal sought new emotions for herself and, in exchange, decided to ensnare me completely in her web. And she succeeded without a shadow of a doubt, for from that unforgettable night onward, my passion for shiny things became utterly uncontrollable!

 Chapter 9

    On my way home, the excitement that had gripped me after such a fruitful heist gradually subsided, and, as a result, I began to perceive a hint of the peculiar nature of the situation. Not enough to attribute my great success to divine intervention; after all, young and self-assured as I was, I wouldn''t have been capable of entertaining such an assumption. But it was still sufficient to bring me back to reality a little and make me think about what I should do with the large sum of money I was carrying at that moment.


    As I''ve mentioned, I lacked for nothing during that period, and, furthermore, I wasn''t accustomed to spending money. I had begun to grasp the fact that money could mean much more than a means to secure one''s existence, yet I was still a long way from understanding its true power in this world where we tend to spend our allotted time far more frivolously than we ought to.


    While thinking I saw that I was near the Arboretum so I entered the gods'' park and hurried toward the small glade where the statue of the goddess Mara stood. No one was there; it was quiet and cool, and only a few whispers and giggles coming from Dibella''s statue disturbed the peace that seemed to reign here. I lit a candle on the small adjoining altar and gazed at the statue. But it was cold and indifferent, the goddess''s face expressing, as usual, sadness and pity. Nothing more.


    I sat on the thick, soft grass and reflected. During my time spent in the bowels of the great city, I had been accustomed to seeking the goddess''s counsel whenever doubts or fears wandered through my soul. But now my goddess was far from me, somewhere out in the wide world alongside my beloved brother, Rasha. I sighed when his image formed in my mind; I wished he were here with me now, so I could seek his advice... Disappointed and beginning to feel the fatigue of such a full day, I slowly made my way home, arriving late after midnight.


    Only one light was burning inside: in the small study where our mother often sat and met with various people who usually sought her after nightfall. I went straight there and told Shaira, who was waiting for me everything I had done or experienced in the days I had spent away from home. She listened intently and without interruption; the expression on her face gradually shifted from worry to relief, and then, when I recited the complete and detailed inventory of all the trifles and trinkets I had stolen from the butcher''s home, her astonishment was beyond I could image.


    At the end, when I emptied the contents of the bag I had brought with me onto the small table in the back room, Shaira sighed deeply and looked at me with fear and nervousness. She rose from her chair, slowly circled the table that stood between us, and gently took my hand. She pulled me after her, and, with quiet steps, we left the house. We walked silently for a while through the deserted streets; then Shaira asked me what my father''s name was.


    I replied that I didn''t know and that I had only known my mother, Kiersten, who had been killed a few years earlier. As soon as she heard the name, Shaira stopped and held my shoulders and I could feel her gaze piercing through the darkness that enveloped us.


    -A tall woman, blonde, with gray eyes, yes? Or perhaps only you truly know the color of her eyes...


    She murmured as she starred at me intently.


    -Yes, mother!


    I replied, shivering. I even began to feel a little afraid because now she was gripping my shoulders tightly, and her eyes¡ªthose yellow, probing eyes¡ªhad begun to shine like two strange, unsettling lights in the night. And Shaira embraced me and held me close to her chest; I felt her sighing deeply as she gently stroked my hair.


    - Elsie, my daughter, I fear you have brought the Darkness with you!


    - Oh, mother, but she is so beautiful! And so powerful...


    - Yes... And terrifying when angered, vengeful beyond measure, and, above all, deceitful! Has She given you Her gifts?


    - Only one, mother!


    - I see. But perhaps we should not speak of such things... She loves secrets and hidden corners, mystery and lies! Still, it is good for you to know¡ªthough perhaps the Mother Cat has not told you this yet¡ªthat you are what we call a Nightingale, a guardian and, at the same time, a confidant of the Goddess. This is an extraordinary thing, magnificent in its very nature, for you are Her chosen one from the mortal world. But more than that, you received this accolade at birth, for your mother, Kiersten, was also a Nightingale. And while that may be a good and useful thing for you, for everyone around you, the Goddess''s grace is nothing but a danger and a threat. For She is exceedingly jealous...


    Shaira fell silent for a moment, as if weary from the weight of what she had just shared. I shivered under the persistent chill of a breeze that swirled the dust on the little street where we stood; a sharp caw of a raven pierced the quiet of the night, and I felt my mother tremble. She gently pushed me away from her and sighed again.


    - Then...


    I said, my voice trembling.


    - Then we will carry on with our lives as before, my daughter! No one can defy fate, especially when it is woven by Nocturnal herself! And perhaps the Goddess will be merciful to us all. At least for a time...


    Neither of us said anything more, and we returned home.


    She refused to accept the money I tried to entrust to her; my mother just shook her head and looked at me worriedly. I could barely convince her to take two gold coins to buy gifts on my behalf for all the members of our family. Then Shaira gave me the address of a man who, she said, would be willing to buy the items I had stolen. She rummaged through the drawer of her small desk and took out a small piece of leather engraved with symbols that were meaningless to me.


    -Give him this! And don''t you go to him with any of your friends!


    My mother added, looking at me sternly. She then advised me, still looking uncertain, to entrust all the money I didn''t need to the same individual, Sebastian by name.


    The following morning, I woke up in an exceptionally good mood. All the excitement that had thrilled me just a few hours earlier was gone without a trace, along with the unease caused by the feeling that the recent events went beyond the ordinary. As for my mother Shaira''s strange behavior and words, they barely even crossed my mind the next morning...


    My sisters were bustling about in our room, which now resembled a hive of bees in full activity. After a bit of playful banter with the little ones, I dressed as best as I could and headed out onto the streets, where the summer day''s heat was beginning to take hold. I visited the hideout I had set up in the sewers of the Talos Plaza District and retrieved most of the goods I had stolen from the butcher''s house. Then, eager as ever, I went to see Sebastian.


    Sebastian was the first fence I ever met, and I must confess he left an indelible impression on me. He was an elderly Imperial with a wise yet imposing demeanor, his voice gentle and melodious.


    He owned an antique shop that, in addition to countless tomes¡ªboth old and new¡ªsold works of art of all kinds and for most tastes. Naturally, there was also that inevitable back room typical of such establishments. But what overwhelmed me more than anything else was the imposing image of the main room¡ªa vast, high-ceilinged space where expensive items were carefully and skillfully displayed.


    Apart from the antique dealer himself, the shop employed three young salesmen, all dressed extremely neatly and soberly, attending to the needs of the few customers who, despite the early hour, were intently examining the displays. In short, everyone there was very busy, so it was not difficult for me to discreetly catch the old merchant''s attention and show him the strange token I had received from Shaira.


    Sebastian issued a few instructions to his associates and beckoned me to follow him. He moved slowly, leaning on an ebony cane with a golden handle, but this in no way diminished the sense of grandeur he had impressed upon me from the start. Once we reached the secret back room I mentioned earlier, Sebastian settled into a richly upholstered armchair with visible satisfaction and gestured for me to place the contents of my bag on the large table between us.


    Proudly, I spread out all the trinkets and cheap jewelry I had stolen. The antique dealer cast a single glance over them and, without bothering to examine any of them closely, said coldly:


    -Five septims for the candlesticks, three for the rest. Why did Shaira send you to me?


    I was not intimidated in the least by the old man''s disapproving gaze. Looking him straight in the eye, I extended my hand toward him, smiling impudently. Sebastian sighed, then counted out eight coins and placed them on the table in front of me.


    -Now, if our business is concluded, I have work to attend to!


    He said, clearly surprised that I was still sitting there in the chair he had offered me.


    Without a word, I stood, pushing all the trifles I had sold him to one side of the table. Then, I emptied the rest of my bag onto it; from the little sack, in a sparkling and pleasantly jingling cascade, spilled all the silver and gold coins I had stolen. The old man looked at them with a hint of curiosity, then directed his questioning gaze at me.


    -My mother told me you were trustworthy enough to entrust my money to. Well, here it is¡ªfor now...


    I said, adding the eight septims I had just received from him to the gleaming pile on the table.


    -Ah, I see! Now I begin to understand!


    The old man said, smiling broadly, and tapped his cane twice on the floor. Almost immediately, a cheerful girl, a little older than me, rushed into the room, her cheeks flushed.


    -Dara, count the money and give this young lady a receipt...


    He instructed the young woman. And then, to me:


    -Ah, and to not forget, my commission is one percent per month. You can come here at any hour, day or night, if you wish to withdraw all your money at once. If you only need smaller sums, please visit during our regular business hours.


    With that, he rose to leave.But I remained seated, my gaze fixed on him.


    -Is there something else?


    He asked, somewhat uncertainly. I gestured toward the girl, who was intently counting the money and dividing it into neat bundles tied with silk thread in an ingenious manner.


    -Yes, you can speak freely. Dara is my daughter and, with Stendarr''s blessing, the future heir to this business.


    He said; the girl turned her mischievous nose toward me and gave me a sweet smile.


    -Very well! In that case, sir, I must insist you make an exception for me and reduce your outrageously high commission. I assure you that the amount I deposit here will soon grow so much that it wouldn''t be fair for you to grow rich merely because I allow you to use my money!


    I said, pronouncing each word slowly and deliberately. I saw his eyes widen in astonishment, and I continued in the same cold, indifferent tone:


    -Furthermore, our business for today is not finished! I need you to send one of your servants with me to transport the rest of the goods I intend to sell you. Also, a large sack filled with copper coins to add to my deposit here!


    He smiled, clearly delighted, but did not yield in the slightest.


    -Young lady, you''re becoming quite endearing to me! But the commission stays as stated. As for one of my servants, he can accompany you right now.


    The recovery and transport of the remaining stolen goods turned out to be a true adventure¡ªa comic one, perhaps, to a superficial mind like mine in those days, and maybe of the worrisome kind to a mind accustomed to correlating facts and analyzing them as a whole.


    Initially, the servant Sebastian had entrusted to me refused outright to enter the city''s sewer galleries. After my insistence and especially the promise of giving him a septim, he eventually dared to follow me into the dark access tunnel in the Talos Plaza District. But after stumbling and cursing behind me for a while, just as we entered the main collector channel gallery, the man slipped and fell into a decanting hollow from which he managed to climb out only with great difficulty. Naturally, after that, he refused to take another step further, forcing me to drag the heavy sack on my own! And then, I had to retrace my steps to recover the rug...


    Once we finally emerged into daylight again, I noticed that the servant was completely soaked and smelled so strongly that it would have been practically impossible for him to move through the crowded streets of the capital without drawing attention. Especially considering that he was carrying a sack filled with coins! But since my impertinence and audacity at that time knew no bounds, I wasn''t deterred by these aspects. After leaving the poor man waiting for me under the arch of the access tunnel, I set out to fetch some clothes for him.


    Of course, it never crossed my mind to buy a set of garments from one of the many rag peddlers who had their stalls nearby. Oh no! I was determined not to spend a single coin (I must shamefully admit that at that moment, I was scheming on how to avoid giving the servant the promised septim) and, consequently, I ventured into the bazaar not far from the Temple of the One. A bustling crowd wandered there, entering or leaving makeshift shops or browsing the stalls of traveling merchants who often made a longer stop in the Imperial City during the summer. On my way, I took full advantage of the crowd and lightened a few pockets of the inattentive owners I passed; then I entered an improvised tailor shop where the master and his two apprentices were serving customers, also adjusting the clothes either purchased here or from other traders.


    After distracting the tailor by asking him to rummage through a pile of garments on the counter in search of a cashmere shawl, I asked him to show me a roll of silk visible on the highest shelf. As the man climbed a ladder to fetch the item, I felt a light, fragrant breeze enveloping me. Startled, I looked around, but I couldn''t see anything unusual. Everything was as it had been: customers waiting their turn, apprentices working diligently, all enveloped in the scorching heat of the summer afternoon.


    Yet my soul felt as light as a snowflake, and my mind was clear as crystal. Just like on that long-ago winter evening when I first met Maria, I began to perceive the sensations and emotions of the people around me. I also noticed light with an intensity I had never experienced before; the dimness inside the shop was so luminous that my unaccustomed eyes protested. Every sound seemed to reverberate off the shop''s walls, crystal clear and perfectly intelligible. I could even hear a mouse gnawing discreetly beneath the floorboards.


    When the tailor returned with the roll of silk I had requested, I saw him open his eyes in surprise as he looked toward where I was standing¡ªsurprised, and then annoyed and exasperated.


    "But where is the little lady? She asked me to bring this..." he said with a huff, slamming the fabric onto the counter.


    I immediately understood what had happened, and it frightened me a little. Until then, Nocturnal''s gift had never activated in such a way¡ªin broad daylight and amidst a crowd! I raised my left hand and looked at it, but I saw nothing. That''s when I truly became afraid and began to tremble. But the voice of my Mistress resounded at once, firm and clear within me:


    "Be thou not a fool, sweet dove! I am with thee now, and I would have us make merry together. Take whatsoever doth please thee from yonder counter!"


    I obeyed, acting mechanically, like one of those intricate contraptions sometimes found in the depths of the Dwemer Ruins. I took a set of clothes for the servant waiting for me in the city''s sewer; two brightly colored ribbons, a cute little skirt, and a richly adorned leather vest for myself; and, of course, I didn''t forget the roll abandoned by the tailor on the counter. I thought that was all, but then Nocturnal spoke again:


    "Verily, thou dost disappoint me. Thou hast yet to gain the skills most needful for thy station anew. Go thou hence and pry open the counter''s drawer! Behold, the merchant doth even now turn to measure yon woman..." she said, giggling delightedly.


    I did exactly as she instructed. From the drawer, I took all the gold coins and some of the silver ones. Then, moving lightly and slipping between the people in the shop, I stepped into the blinding daylight outside.


    I stopped, swaying and trembling. The blinding light overwhelmed me, and all the sounds and smells around me assaulted my senses savagely. I could perceive the aura of contentment or misery surrounding the people nearby and vaguely understand their immediate intentions. But this last ability was still unclear and barely intelligible to me at the time. I felt as though I might faint and crouched on the ground. That''s when my Mistress''s voice rang out again¡ªharsh this time:


    "Fall not, thou wretched worm! Think not thyself so frail as to yield afore the feeble emanations of lesser minds. Rise, press on, and halt not! By mine command, thou shalt obey!"


    She finished with a shout. Her resonant voice spread subtly through every corner of my being, and suddenly, I felt an extraordinary surge of energy fill me.


    And indeed, I managed to walk further, weaving my way through the crowd wandering through the great bazaar at that hour of the afternoon. The light no longer hurt my eyes as it had done earlier, and my ears and nose were beginning to grow immune to the apparent assault of the myriad stimuli around me. Truth be told, it wasn''t truly an aggression in this sense; rather, my heightened senses were sharpened to an incredible degree.


    However, as for the wave of thoughts and feelings from the nearby people that engulfed me the moment I stepped out of the tailor''s shop, things were far more complicated. Although these impressions are perceived as vibrations of varying harmonics, much like other sensory stimuli, separating, ignoring, and interpreting the various mental effluvia of mortals is a challenging task for a novice. And when the overwhelming presence of my Mistress''s spiritual essence overlapped with these subtle and numerous waves, my mind could hardly withstand the flood. Without training and self-discipline, something like that could give birth to all manner of illusions¡ªor erroneous interpretations... Though, as I adjusted to the new situation, I began to feel increasingly at ease.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    And I didn''t hesitate to take advantage of the circumstances for my own benefit. On my way back, I acquired a few additional pieces of jewelry and some more coins, both from people''s pockets and merchants'' counters. I felt Nocturnal trembling with delight during these exploits of mine, and sometimes, after a particularly daring strike, her shameless giggles were accompanied by small but intense surges of pleasure she administered to me. A pleasure of a kind entirely unknown to me before, one that made my body quiver and my soul feel as though it was soaring...


    At one point, Nocturnal desired to "feast" alongside me, and as a result, my body fully returned to the mortal realm. It had not truly been in my Mistress''s Oblivion plane but had remained suspended on the limb between the two worlds, leaning closer to the mortal one nonetheless. I protested mildly, as I had begun to revel in my new state, where, strangely enough, the images around me had started to blend subtly with the shadows and lights bathing the lands of my Mistress''s Daedric plane. I even tried to feign concern, claiming that the servant I had left waiting might eventually leave, taking the sack of coins with him. But Nocturnal laughed and assured me that the poor man was fast asleep and would remain so until I returned.


    So, I indulged in a lavish meal, accompanied by the sparkling wine from the vineyards of the Eastern Imperial regions. At the end of it, the Daedra declared herself pleased with me and noted that we had enjoyed ourselves immensely. And she decided to remain with me a little longer; we spent together many of the days that followed! Those were truly dazzling days, imbued with the restless energy her presence stirred in my private space. Nocturnal was especially attentive and tender with me during that time. In fact, we behaved just like newlyweds! The misunderstandings and quarrels would come later, just as they do in our mortal world... In any case, during that evening things unfolded so simply that life began to feel like a beautiful dream!


    The servant was indeed asleep in the shadow of the archway by the main collector channel gallery in Talos Plaza District. I woke him up, and he changed into the clothes I had brought for him. Together, we returned, laden with the goods I had acquired, to Sebastian''s antique shop. The old man immediately motioned for us to follow him; the usual knocks on the floor ensued, and Dara entered promptly, smiling, her fiery red hair flowing. We laid out all the goods I had brought on the big table, except for the sack of coins, which the servant had left in a corner of the room. Sebastian appraised everything and pulled a handful of gold coins from the safe, handing them to me. Then, the sack was opened under the antique dealer''s smiling gaze and amid Dara''s peals of laughter.


    -You girls have work to do all night!


    Sebastian said sympathetically.


    But Dara shook her fiery mane, wrinkled her mischievous little nose, and laughed:


    -Not a chance, father! If Elsie agrees¡ªand she must! she giggled, looking boldly into my eyes, "we''ll solve the problem extremely simply and quickly!"


    I looked at her questioningly and somewhat annoyed by her impudence; but I must admit, she was captivating with her sparkling, impish eyes. Nocturnal chuckled within me and whispered, "Be careful, dove! Dara is an old, sly fox..."


    But Dara was far from old, and although she possessed all the vices of a fox, she also had its resourcefulness. In short, the girl suggested we go to the nearby alchemist''s shop to weigh one of the coins from the sack; then we would wrap the sack in a blanket and place it on the coal merchant''s scales.


    Sebastian sighed but didn''t protest. He got up and said:


    -My esteemed client, I will now leave you to finalize the transaction as you see fit. But please remember, you are always welcome in my house; next time you visit, enter directly through the main entrance¡ªthe one with the colonnades. And please do send my regards to Shaira!


    After he left, Dara and I got to work. Being tired from the day''s adventures, but mostly under Dara''s charm, I followed her plan for estimating the value of the copper coins from the sack. And more gold coins, which the girl fetched from the safe, were added to the gleaming pile on the table. I kept 25 septims, which I placed in the pouch at my hip, and entrusted the rest to the red-haired girl, who added them to the total noted on a parchment she handed me at the end. I didn''t know how to read, not even numbers, but I took the receipt and, without looking at it, casually tucked it into the inner pocket of my vest.


    -Oh, my blonde princess is so kind and trusting!


    Dara laughed, planting a kiss on my cheek. Her kiss sent shivers through my entire being, and Nocturnal chuckled softly, as if amused by my reaction. I think I blushed because Dara smiled and, slipping an arm around my waist, gently led me to the exit. At the threshold, she told me to come to her directly whenever I had goods to deliver. Then, she added:


    -We should spend more time together, little princess! Why don''t you drop by tomorrow evening? Maybe we can go somewhere cozy and get to know each other better...


    I then went to meet Nash; I found him with a few members of our gang in a tavern where they used to linger whenever they had nothing better to do. And that had been happening very often lately... I handed our treasurer 15 septims, telling him that the money represented my contribution to the shared wealth for that month. They were all very surprised when the thick, shiny gold coins jingled on the greasy table, stained by the countless mugs of beer that had passed across it over the years. Nash sighed in relief and thanked me warmly; he then said he would ask Rolf''s permission to officially add me to the gang''s payroll, like any other regular member. But I laughed and told him I didn''t need a wage...


    I then recounted a tale worthy of a minstrel''s songs; I mixed truth with so many lies and exaggerations of the dangers and hardships I had faced that I even started to believe my story! I could feel the goddess within me, vibrating with pleasure; she was thoroughly enjoying the shameless lies I was spinning! And at the end, I added that if I had been supported in my endeavor by at least one of the dudes who had wasted the whole day in the coolness of that tavern I would have been able to add more than 100 septims to the communal purse! They all opened their eyes wide and gasped in amazement; even Nash, who handled our money, had never seen such a pile of gold in one place... And then they started doubting my story, laughing like fools again as they were happily ruffling my hair!


    I glared at them and shouted that they just had to check if they wanted ; I whispered the butcher''s address into the treasurer''s ear and left without looking back when they called after me, begging me to return to them, claiming they were only joking!


    When I got home very late, Shaira was waiting for me as usual, with the lamp lit. She took me to her office, and there I told her all about the adventures I had experienced that day. This time, I told the truth, omitting only to mention Nocturnal and the significant role she had played during the string of thefts I had so brilliantly committed. But my mother somehow sensed the Goddess''s presence¡ªboth as a physical manifestation, if such a term applies here, through my behavior, and in the context of the events of the day.


    She visibly tensed as I recounted my story, and at the end, when I showed her the note Dara had given me in exchange for the money I deposited, she flinched violently, and her gaze became uncertain.


    I felt the fear enveloping her, and it saddened me deeply. I stood up and went to hug her, hoping for the affectionate caresses she sometimes sparingly offered. But she gently pushed me away and said as she handed back the piece of parchment:


    -You''re a wealthy girl now, Elsie! And all of us in this family will do everything we can from now on to show you the profound respect we hold for you!


    I protested, intimidated and saddened. I told her I loved them all and would always remain her loyal daughter. But Shaira shook her head and refused to add anything to what she had said. She never looked me in the eyes during our conversation; whenever I tried to catch her gaze to see her reactions to what I was telling, she always looked away, staring down at the intricate patterns of the rug on the floor. At the end, she told me to follow her, and she led me to Rasha''s room.


    My brother''s room had been kept locked by our mother, who had also maintained it in perfect cleanliness and order. Shaira told me that from now on, I would sleep there and that the next morning, my sisters would bring all my personal belongings. She then asked me which of them I preferred as a servant... Oh, that was too much for me! I replied that I would not allow any of them to humble themselves before me and added that I was more their servant than they were mine, and that I wished with all my heart to contribute to the well-being and happiness of that family. But Shaira didn''t say anything more, and after giving me a slight bow, she left the room, softly closing the door behind her. I was left alone... Well, perhaps "alone" isn''t the best word to use here; but I did feel abandoned and sad. The joy of triumph I had felt all evening suddenly vanished, replaced by a sense of futility.


    Though, there was nothing better to do than to try to sleep, so I lay down on the bed. The bed where my brother Rasha had slept for so many years, even before we had met! This only added to the sadness that made my soul vibrate painfully. I deeply regretted the days when I had been so ill and had spent them surrounded by the love of this wonderful family! And most of all, I missed the steady gaze of Rasha, his cruel and relentless eyes, in which I had often found true wells of strength and resolve... But I eventually managed to fall asleep; to sleep and dream, and it was the first night I spent with my Mistress. In my case, the sleep in Daedra''s arms is always strange and restless, and the corresponding dreams are always filled with bizarre images and scenes, all bathed in the peculiar light of the sun there¡ªa light that in my dream world is always filtered through the leaf-laden branches of that Tree which thrives in Evergloam. But back then, I didn''t understand any of it, and the strange dreams only left me with the unpleasant feeling of being more tired in the morning than when I had gone to bed...


    And indeed, many things in my life changed the next day. As soon as I woke up, I heard a timid knock on my door. One of my sisters had come to tell me I was being sought by a man. I asked her to describe him, and I understood it was Rolf. Knowing that Shaira couldn''t stand the man, I dressed as quickly as I could and went out into the courtyard, where he was waiting rather impatiently. I looked at him questioningly; he had never crossed the threshold of this house before, and I didn''t think it was the right time to start now. But Rolf smiled at me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out the gate, onto the street, which was already beginning to fill with hurried people.


    On the way, he apologized several times for the behavior of the boys, who, he said, only meant to joke with their dear friend. In fact, all of them only wanted to collaborate with me and were very eager to listen to my plans; and since I was an old member of the gang, I couldn''t abandon them now, especially when things were going so poorly. Rolf added this while gripping my hand tightly. He cast me tender glances from time to time, and I was overjoyed...


    At the "Hoarse Rooster," our tavern, nearly all of our friends had gathered, though not all of them were permanent members of the gang. The place had been closed that day because the boys had organized a party in my honor! During the gathering, I was confirmed as a full-fledged member of the gang amidst cheers and applause from everyone. I can''t say I was overwhelmed with emotion; still, the recognition I received from these rough men was like balm to my pride and gave me an intense urge to prove my worth to them.


    I didn''t stay long at the party they''d thrown for me; when their voices became hoarse and unsteady from countless bottles of liquor emptied, I quietly bid farewell to Rolf and Nash and went home.


    I proudly recounted the story to my mother. Shaira, who, as I''ve mentioned before, didn''t approve of this sort of connection at all, listened to my tale calmly. She neither protested nor commented on anything I said. After I finished, she simply remarked that it might be time for me to learn how to read figures and numbers; and above all, to learn how to calculate.


    Shaira, like everyone else in the family, couldn''t read or write; but she alone among them mastered the magic of arithmetic and was extremely skilled at adding long columns of numbers using only her memory. As for me, although I was initially delighted by my mother''s initiative, I must admit that all the learning she forced into my poor young head was so hard to grasp and assimilate that I often felt ready to give up. But Shaira was unyielding in this regard! Unlike any other aspect of our relationship after that memorable night when I came home bearing Dara''s deposit certificate, she was immovable when it came to the study of arithmetic. Despite my struggles, she persisted until I could perform complex arithmetic operations.


    Otherwise, our family dynamics had radically shifted. Except for my father and the little ones, all the other members of the family showed me special respect, and the older ones often brought me monetary gifts from their occupations. At first, I was embarrassed and refused to accept them. However, Shaira explained that these offerings honored the Goddess, who might take offense if neglected. My mother was always very respectful and even fearful when speaking about Nocturnal in my presence; she spoke few words, all carefully chosen, making it clear that she was determined to express her unconditional submission and total respect for the Daedra. This clearly flattered the goddess, but only in her peculiar way...


    I often sensed her explicit disdain for Shaira and the other members of my beloved family. This deeply saddened me, and at times I wished I could voice the confusion and revolt I felt about her attitude. But back then, Nocturnal had yet to grant me the privilege of conversing with her and, more often than not, referred to me as "worm" in her monologues... Moreover, she disliked almost everyone in my circle; only Dara pleased her, and she never stopped praising her great intelligence.


    In any case, she particularly disapproved of Ra''ha, who, like any true artist, had a highly independent spirit and a free-spirited demeanor; moreover, he had the habit of mocking gods and Daedric Princes, both on stage during his theatrical performances and in private. For me, however, my beloved father''s behavior, along with the carefree affection of my younger brothers and sisters, represented true oases of familial love during this brief period we still had to spend together in the mortal realm of sorrow...


    I could feel Nocturnal sneering mockingly while Shaira trembled in fear whenever I played with my little sisters, who couldn''t resist the feline race''s characteristic desires to cuddle and be noticed. Or when my father caressed me and asked, laughing, what other mischief his disobedient daughter had been up to that day... But I felt ashamed in front of Ra''ha and, while I proudly shared my wicked deeds with Shaira, I never shared them with my father.


    To these changes that had disrupted my previously habitual way of life, another ominous development was added: my new position within the gang, where I had been spending most of my time. I had almost immediately become the main contributor to the organization''s funds, which only served to greatly increase my influence and, at a certain point, my authority among the gang members. I was wise enough not to undermine Rolf''s leadership, keeping Nash as treasurer and advisor; through the two of them, I effectively became the leader of the gang for the next six months. During this time, our power grew, and from a mere neighborhood gang, we rose to the level of an organization that sought to consolidate the cream of the Imperial City''s underworld and dictate its behavior towards the merchants and craftsmen of the capital.


    I replaced the harsh methods employed by my partners with ones that were far more subtle and, as it turned out, much more effective. Those who refused to pay the protection fee were no longer threatened or physically assaulted. Instead, shortly after declining our politely presented offer, various strange and harmful events began occurring around them. Sometimes, in the dead of night, they and their families were awakened by whispers, shouts, or the sound of breaking glass or mirrors belonging to them; no matter how hard they searched, groping through the darkness with their lamps¡ªlamps that had the nasty habit of suddenly going out in the darkest corners of their residence¡ªthey could never find a trace of the being that sometimes tugged at their clothes or tripped them, causing them to tumble to the floor. Other times, upon waking from sleep, they would find the interior walls of their homes or shops decorated with strange symbols or messages painted¡ªusually in red paint¡ªannouncing various misfortunes that would befall them or their trade. And some of these misfortunes did indeed come to pass if the merchant continued to refuse to contribute to the ''poor relief fund,'' as we called it! Bakers'' flour stocks were suddenly drenched in rancid oil in their warehouses; barrels of wine, with stoppers removed or drilled, sometimes flooded the cellars of uncooperative innkeepers in the middle of the night; bags full of live rats were occasionally emptied during the night into the shops of stubborn grocers... Even important and relatively wealthy craftsmen could face all sorts of troubles: blacksmiths and armorers would suddenly find their tools missing¡ªno matter how often they replaced them with new ones or how securely they locked them away in chests or cabinets, they kept vanishing without a trace. Or their apprentices, especially the newer ones, would all leave at once without notice. Alchemists who ignored our polite requests might find themselves facing a wave of so-called disgruntled customers making a scene all day outside their laboratories, warning the public about the poor-quality or even dangerous products sold by these merchants. Or an anonymous tip would prompt an inspection by an Order patrol, which would inevitably discover a small vial of skooma among the countless jars and instruments in the shop... Oh, we used so many tricks and intimidation tactics that simply listing them all could fill several pages of a manuscript!


    What matters is that, in the end, even the most stubborn among them reluctantly chose to pay the protection fee, unable to withstand the meticulously planned campaign of intimidation. Of course, a few tried appealing to the authorities before ultimately succumbing to our terms. The officials were unable to curb the surge of intimidation spreading through the commercial and artisanal districts of the capital, but they soon began to notice a peculiar pattern: a short-statured, well-dressed, and unusually polite young woman with an air of naivety. This figure, despite varying her attire each time, surfaced far too frequently in the complaints of merchants to remain unnoticed. It wasn''t long before the Order''s watchful eyes began to turn toward me...


    At the same time, we began protecting all the inhabitants of the Merchant District from any kind of theft or crime that might harm them. Very quickly, we became respected and even beloved by the simple, poor people living there, where our base of operations was located. This earned us the support of ordinary citizens and provided countless hiding places, practically impossible for the armed monks of the Order of Stendarr to search. On the other hand, our actions in this regard significantly disrupted the Thieves Guild''s activities in this area of the capital... Initially, they sent messages and warnings, which we nonchalantly ignored. But from the moment a member of our gang was assassinated as he left his home, I decided to retaliate. With the help of my Mistress, who was very excited by everything unfolding under her divine gaze, our response was devastating! In just one week, we eliminated all remaining, unassimilated remnants of rival gangs and made the members of the Thieves Guild so afraid that they no longer dared even to set foot in the Merchant District.


    Through all these actions and schemes, inspired, guided, and aided by Nocturnal, I became virtually the shadow leader of the entire organized, unaffiliated underworld, which only attracted more attention from the higher leadership of the Order of Stendarr... Of course, whispers from Guild representatives slipping into the vigilant ears of the authorities also played a role in the growing interest shown by the officials!


    My mother Shaira had begun to warn me¡ªinitially timidly, but increasingly sternly¡ªabout the danger looming over my head and, as she often mentioned, over our entire family. But I was far too confident in the infallibility of my methods and the providential luck that seemed to overwhelm me with its grace in those days. I can even say that the notoriety I had achieved filled me with reckless pride and spurred me on to increasingly rash acts. And so, I continued down the path of wrongdoing and ruin, with no possibility of turning back...


    Thus, the autumn and winter of that year passed almost in the blink of an eye. Completely absorbed as I was by the increasingly demanding duties of my position within the gang and my relationship with Dara, I took notice with indifference when the war between the Empire and the Dominion resumed with the start of the following spring. Not even the fall of the fortified city of Leyawiin, without the slightest resistance, into the greedy hands of the elves impressed me. I regarded the waves of refugees, this time from the County of Skingrad, who began flooding the capital, merely as an additional source of concern for the Order of Stendarr. Consequently, I decided it was time to extend our group''s influence to the Talos Plaza District.


    From that moment on, a collective madness ensnared us all in its murky grip. The great city was now shaken by street battles between our boys and mercenaries hired by the Thieves Guild. Refugees, growing in number and desperation, filled every public square and park in the Imperial City to the brim; following them, just as flocks of scavenging birds always accompany armies, a multitude of independent criminals appeared in the capital, pushing the confusion of those days to the extreme. And the fighting monks began to wield swords instead of their traditional maces...


    Amid this grim and unsettling backdrop, on a windy and chilly spring day, tragedy struck our family with devastating force. My father, Ra''ha, in a moment of incomprehensible recklessness, attempted to pickpocket a nobleman¡ªa trade he had long abandoned. Unaware of the two bodyguards shadowing the lord, Ra''ha was caught in the act and subdued by the guards. By a cruel twist of fate, one of my brothers happened to be nearby. Seeing the commotion, he rushed to Ra''ha''s aid. The confrontation escalated; one of the bodyguards was killed, my brother fell in the struggle, and the city''s fighting monks intervened, arresting my father. The trial was swift, and Ra''ha was sentenced to hang. My mother, desperate to save him, leveraged every connection and a significant portion of the family''s wealth. Her efforts succeeded: by Imperial decree, Ra''ha was pardoned and released.


    But the Brotherhood of Stendarr, long exasperated by the chaos tied to our family¡ªespecially my own exploits¡ªdecided to take matters into their own hands. That same night, under the leadership of Grandmaster Ser Gregorius Clegius, the so-called ''Holy Mountain,'' a vengeful mob descended upon our home. They murdered my entire family and burned our house to ashes.


    I survived, not by strength or cunning, but through the gift of Nocturnal. As the flames devoured the life I once knew, I fled, leaving behind grief, guilt, and remorse. What remained was only the shadow of who I had been¡ªand the promise of what I would become.

 Chapter 10

    I ran. I ran as if the entire world was crumbling behind me, as if death itself was on my heels. My breath tore through me, turning into fire that scorched my lungs. I ran until my legs buckled, until every shred of strength left me. And then, it happened.


    As I collapsed to my knees, the fog around me thickened, its milky, red-tinged haze wrapping me like a burial shroud. I could barely see, but that didn''t matter. The horror that had driven me to flee was gone, devoured by something even darker: despair, guilt, and grief. They hit me all at once, like a tidal wave, dragging me under. The weight of my own failure, of everything I had lost, crushed me.


    And in that moment, as I screamed¡ªa raw, guttural cry that ripped through the fog and echoed into nothingness¡ªI knew something inside me had shattered.


    I no longer cared.


    Not about the others.


    Not about their lives or their pain.


    I wanted to go back.


    I wanted to find Gregorius Clegius and rip his heart from his chest with my bare hands. To taste his blood, to feel the warmth of it spill over my fingers, as if that could somehow quench the fire devouring me. But I couldn''t even stand. All I could do was kneel there, trembling, staring into the swirling fog that borrowed its sinister glow from Masser''s red light.


    And then the visions began.


    I saw cities aflame, their people screaming and falling beneath the cold gleam of steel. I saw endless lines of grey-faced souls, their backs bent under the weight of misery, driven forward by the overseers'' merciless whips. The smell of death¡ªthick, choking, and relentless¡ªclung to everything. Above it all, crows swarmed in black clouds, their cries a grim symphony. Among them, ravens feasted on the scattered remains of the fallen.


    In the midst of this disaster, I felt its source. A presence¡ªpowerful, hollow, and cursed. It had forsaken both Gods and Daedric Princes, a lonely soul devoured by its own void. Its essence was sharp and vivid, an intoxicating mix of incense, freshly tempered steel, human and horse sweat, nightshade, musk, and blood.


    And then I knew that abysmal entity was no stranger to me; oh, no! She had a very familiar figure¡ªone I knew I''d see every time I dared to look into a mirror...


    I came to my senses trembling and weeping; I got up and set off through the damp and cold streets; I wandered around the deserted neighborhood at that hour and, when the darkness of the night began to turn into the sickly gray of these rainy spring mornings, I slipped into the city bowels.


    I hid in the sewers, searched for my old hiding spot, cleaned the vermin around and took refuge there.


    I waited.


    I sharpened my knife and lingered.


    I cut my hair, smeared myself with ash, and waited.


    I slept and dreamed. I dreamed of my family¡ªmy mother''s stern gaze, my father''s gentle voice, the laughter of my brothers and sisters echoing through our lost home. They felt so close, so alive, and yet so far, unreachable. I wept for them and for the beast I''d had to become.


    I killed rats and ate their flesh, drank their blood.


    I lingered...


    Once a month, the Brotherhood had the custom of holding public executions, and before these, the Grand Master would give moralizing speeches. I waited for the day, and at dawn, when the first pale rays of light pierced through the city''s filth, I emerged from the sewers, like a shadow reborn.


    I went to the Arena where these events took place and entered, sitting where all the beggars of the city sat, receiving significant alms in the form of money, drinks, and food from the Brotherhood on this day.


    Late in the afternoon, the Grand Master entered the arena accompanied by his personal guard and ascended the scaffold. I watched, imprinting his figure in my memory forever. But at the same time, I noticed that he wore no armor, not even the usual light chain mail shirt.


    I approached the stockade surrounding the fighting area and listened to the Mountain''s first words.


    My hands trembled as they rested on the fence, my knife hidden beneath the rags I wore. The Grand Master''s voice echoed through the arena, but I heard nothing but the blood pounding in my ears. Suddenly, my body felt light, as if I no longer controlled it, as if an unseen hand guided me forward; and my mind cleared while I heard Daedra''s mocking voice:


    "Go now, worm. Go and fulfill thy pointless madness. I shall watch over thee..."


    I leaped like an arrow, jumped the tall fence as if I had wings, covered the distance to the scaffold in a rush, and passed through the Mountain''s guards unnoticed. I climbed the steps and looked Ser Gregorius in the eyes. He continued his wretched speech with a calm and confident look, so pleased with himself.


    "Enjoy this, little one!"


    Nocturnal purred.


    Suddenly, the Mountain''s eyes filled with stupor and then terror; my blade found its mark before I even realized I had moved and I severed his jugular vein in a single motion. He choked and fell to his knees... Blood sprayed, warm and thick, over my hands and face, and in that instant, the world narrowed to a single point: his dying eyes. I fell upon him and began ripping him apart with my knife, bathing in his blood, drinking from it. I was in a special state; the nearby guards were like specters... Only his blood, my knife, and the raw ecstasy of my own awakening were real! I didn''t even feel the brutal blows from the heavy clubs of the monks, nor did I hear the roar of the crowd. I only heard the Mountain''s choking and felt a paroxysmal pleasure I had never known, one I would later experience but in entirely different circumstances...


    They beat me mercilessly, dragged me away like a sack of filth, but at that moment, I felt nothing until, when they were about to take me out of the arena, I sensed two burning points on my face. I looked and saw the shining eyes of my brother Rasha beyond the fence. He nodded once, pulled his hood over his face, and disappeared into the crowd...


    I didn''t stay imprisoned for long; on the next day, they dragged me before the judges, who sentenced me to death by hanging and burning alive at the stake for murder and witchcraft. Their eyes barely brushed over me as they spoke of my crimes¡ªwords that fell flat, hollow, irrelevant. I stood before them, not as the accused, but as something beyond their reach, beyond their comprehension. The pain ravaged my body, unbearable, consuming... but it was still overcome by the ecstasy of the revelation taking root inside me. In that moment, I realized: I was no longer subject to their judgment.


    I was the judge, the executioner¡ªand I had done what had to be done.


    After the trial, I was taken to a fortress of the order, a grim structure perched along the Black Road, not far from the shores of Lake Rumare. It was part of the same complex as the orphanage where I had spent some months years ago; inside the keep, the halls echoed with distant prayers and the hollow clang of armor, like every place where these warrior monks lived, studied, or prayed. They locked me in a small, bright room within the fortress and tended to my wounds, even setting my broken ribs. Those days were filled with suffering for me; the pain was searing and relentless, reducing me to a trembling heap. It was so all-consuming that even the thought of the torments awaiting me in an uncertain future seemed distant and unimportant. Time dissolved into a haze of agony, and the only relief came in fractured, brief moments of sleep, though even those were tormented by feverish nightmares.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Nights were the worst. I would wake very often in the dark, jolted by every unconscious movement my body made in sleep; and then, although exhausted by the constant and terrible pain, I couldn''t fall asleep again for long stretches of time. Naturally, in moments like that, terrifying thoughts invaded my mind. Now that the heat of the action had faded and the ecstasy I felt during my revenge had vanished, I began to understand my grim situation very clearly. And I feared the future; oh, my mind conjured vivid images of the torments they would inflict upon me! Above all, I feared death... Just days ago, I had thought life held no meaning for me, that I had nothing left to lose. But now, lying broken and powerless, I desperately wanted to cling to life, even in its misery, as though it were a fragile thread keeping me from slipping into an endless nothingness. Still, there was nothing I could do about it, and, between the pain and dreadful expectations, my body began to heal.


    Eventually, the pain subsided just enough for me to feed myself and sleep. But soon, a priest began visiting me every night, always reading lengthy sermons that were dreadful to endure. He spoke only of the torments my soul would face in the afterlife if I did not renounce the devils that possessed me and truly repent for my sins. During the day, a novice of the cult of Stendarr would read to me from the same thick book, though her tone was different. She recited endlessly about the delights awaiting the righteous in the dull, lifeless realm of their god.


    That young, naive girl annoyed me more than I could bear. While I hated and feared the priest, I wanted nothing more than to scream at her or lash out, to silence her endless, tedious voice.


    And so, between dreadful threats and boring, sanctimonious sermons, time passed. My body healed, but my mind grew sick¡ªoh, so sick!¡ªfrom the lack of sleep and the relentless thoughts of the horrifying tortures that awaited me...


    Then, one night, when the priest asked if I regretted my actions, I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I begged for forgiveness, crying pitifully. He smiled, turned, and left without another word.


    The next day, they moved me to a dark, damp cell in the keep''s basement. Oh, damp is an understatement; those who know these centuries-old fortresses near rivers or lakes understand that, no matter how well repaired or maintained, their bowels are always sick with water and mold. The air was heavy, thick with the stench of decay, and the cold seeped deep into my bones like a second skin. They reduced my food to a piece of bread a day and half a liter of water (about one pint in Altmeri language). Time lost all meaning in that place. No one entered my cell except to bring me food, and even that felt more like an afterthought than an act of mercy.


    At first, before I was completely drained by the lack of food and water that would later torment me deeply, I tried with all my strength to regain my clarity and search for a way to escape. After all, here in the underground, I was in a place that felt strangely familiar. The lock on the barred door was an old, heavy model, corroded with rust. The man who brought me my pitiful daily ration always came alone, carrying a torch to light his way through the surrounding darkness. It would have been enough to extinguish the torch, leaving him helpless in the shadows that enveloped the place. But I felt afraid and powerless. I tried to suppress these sensations¡ªfeelings that had been foreign to me for so many years¡ªbut I failed. As time passed and my strength ebbed away, I was horrified to realize that, mentally, I had regressed into a frightened little girl¡ªone who reminded me all too vividly of the small blonde child who had wept bitterly while clinging tightly to the gravestone on her mother''s freshly dug grave.


    With each passing day, this state of mine only worsened so, when the fortress commander finally appeared and informed me that my execution would take place the next day, I was nearly mad.


    I laughed. A harsh, grating sound that even startled me. I spat at him, lurching forward as if to claw his eyes out. His boot found my stomach, sending me sprawling to the floor, gasping for air. I kept laughing, though, like a madwoman, until my ribs ached and my voice cracked. Then, as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped. Terror and despair rushed in, filling the void. I screamed, a raw, animal sound, and flung myself wildly around the narrow cell. My fists pounded the damp, mold-covered walls; my head struck the cold stones until the pain became unbearable. At some point, I must have fainted, for the next thing I knew, I woke with my mind as clear and bright as it had been the moment I paid our debt to Ser Gregorius.


    In that instant, I heard a soft chuckle resonate within me. Nocturnal''s voice, velvety and calm, whispered into my thoughts:


    "Small dove, dread not, and vex thyself no more. Thy faithful, virtuous, and righteous kin hath wrought sufficient. I shall linger with thee until the conclusion, to behold and sense the trivial joys of mortals. Slumber now."


    I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, only to awaken in the ethereal realm of my mistress¡ªEvergloam, as it is called. For the first time, I wandered freely through its tranquil beauty, awestruck by the serene charm of her dominion. It is nothing like the grim depictions spun by the priests of Stendarr. Evergloam is a land of fairytales, cloaked in enchanting shadowed forests that seem alive with whispered secrets.


    Streams of clear, swirling waters sparkle in the half-light, their surface dancing with silvery reflections. The air hums with the songs of vibrant, jewel-like birds, their melodies weaving an otherworldly harmony. Gentle and harmless creatures, some strange and others familiar, roam the glades, embodying the peace that reigns in this place.


    In the heart of the shadowed forest stands the Tree of Life. Its branches stretch endlessly into the heavens, radiant with a peculiar, ever-shifting light, while its roots burrow deep into the shadowed soil of Nocturnal''s realm. The tree is the essence of creation itself, its presence a nexus of arcane power. Its whispers carry the secrets of the mortal world, speaking directly to those who dare to listen. And in that moment, as I stood before it, the Tree offered me solace, strength, and an understanding of the infinite. It anchored me, its presence a balm to my fractured soul. Even in the depths of despair, I found hope within the embrace of my mistress''s realm.


    I woke only when the heavy metal door creaked, and my old acquaintance, the priest, entered my cell accompanied by two vigilants. They chained my hands and feet, nearly dragging me to the fortress''s inner courtyard. After so long in darkness and confinement, I no longer knew how to walk properly, and the heavy chains overwhelmed me.


    Outside, the day was brilliantly sunny, and the sudden flood of light blinded me. My eyes burned, my legs buckled under me, and I collapsed, unwilling or unable to rise. One of the vigilantes quickly put an end to my defiance with a few heavy kicks, forcing me upright before roughly hauling me into a cart pulled by a donkey. The priest climbed into the cart beside me, and from the moment we departed, he began reading aloud from his cursed book, his droning voice a constant torment.


    The road was crowded with onlookers, and most of them greeted me with boos, jeers, and foul insults. Some laughed with obscene joy, their cruelty fueling a fire of hatred within me. Their faces blurred together, but in my mind, I saw clearly the gentle face of my father, Ra''ha, and the calm voice of my mother, Shaira. In that moment, I swore I was nothing like these wretched beings. I belonged to my kin¡ªthose who truly understood honor and loyalty. And things worsened when the cart reached the bridge. My former kin¡ªthose upright and faithful followers of Stendarr¡ªwere there waiting. They hurled filth at me: rotten food, trash, and dung. The priest wrapped himself in his cloak to shield himself from the onslaught, yet never stopped reading. Meanwhile, I was left to endure the full brunt of their mockery and contempt.


    At last, we arrived at the heavy, ornate gates of the city. One of the vigilantes handed the execution order to the sergeant of the gate guards. He read it, nodded, and then, to my shock, he and the other guard attacked my captors without warning. Behind us, three Argonians sprang from the crowd, striking the convoy from the rear. Chaos erupted. Somewhere in the distance, a bolt of lightning split the air, striking the crowd that had gathered to mock me. The clear blue sky suddenly darkened, and two more bolts followed, creating an inferno of screams, burning flesh, and unbridled panic.


    That''s when I saw the second truly horrifying sight of my life: the dead began to rise. Their lifeless forms, animated by some dark force, turned on the frenzied crowd with insane fury, tearing them apart and feasting on their flesh. The air filled with dreadful sounds¡ªscreams, moans, and the wet, sickening crunch of tearing flesh. The stench of charred bodies and rot hung thick, making it nearly impossible to breathe.


    One of the gate soldiers removed his helmet, leaped into the cart, and without hesitation, ran his sword through the terrified priest. Then he turned to me, lifting me into his strong arms. For a moment, I didn''t recognize him, but then I saw his beloved face¡ªmy brother, Rasha. His eyes held grief, pride, and something else I could not name.


    "I am here with you, Elsie," he said, his voice steady and full of resolve. "Nothing will separate us now." He kissed me, his lips trembling with emotion.


    The others dropped ropes from the bridge, and one by one, we descended. Rasha carried me on his back, and we climbed down to a waiting boat. As soon as we reached it, the oarsman began rowing furiously across Lake Rumare, desperate to escape the horrors unfolding on the bridge. When we reached the far shore, the oarsman held out his hand for payment. Rasha only laughed before cutting him down with a swift stroke of his sword. The mage in our group cast a spell, and my chains fell away with a metallic clatter.


    Rasha cradled me in his arms as the others rushed toward the edge of the forest guarding the Green Road. There, seven horses awaited us, tended by an old man. He, too, held out his hand for payment, and once again, Rasha laughed before breaking his neck with a single, brutal motion.


    Ah, that laugh¡ªso rare, yet so dear to me. I can still hear it now, echoing in my mind. He looked at me then with unspeakable love, kissed me again, and we mounted our horses. Together, we galloped down the Green Road, heading south.


    "Elsweyr is somewhere there," I murmured softly, a faint smile on my lips.


    And in the depths of my mind, I heard Nocturnal chuckling softly once more...

 Chapter 11

    We galloped as long as the light lasted towards the South on the Green Road and, when the day began to stumble into night and the shadows of the trees grew extraordinarily long, we urged the exhausted horses and entered the old forest, heading towards Niben. The weald came upon us suddenly, ancient and watchful, as if it had been lying in wait; its gnarled branches twisted overhead, blocking what little light remained. Torches were lit, and, until the night took hold of the woodland, the foam-covered horses led us to the riverbank. There we made camp and, while the others unpacked the saddlebags, Rasha gave me something to wear and some boots ¨C oh, boots! I stared at them for a moment, their leather strangely foreign. How long had it been since I wore such things?


    I took the clothes and the shoes, holding them against my chest with both arms as if they were a treasure. The fabric felt soft and strange beneath my fingers, and the boots were scuffed but solid. "Thank you," I said, my voice small and hesitant. Without thinking, under the gaze of flickering torchlight, I crouched on the ground right there and began to shed the rags clinging to me. My fingers fumbled with the knots like those of a child struggling with an oversized puzzle...


    As the old and tattered clothes fell away, I glanced up and noticed Rasha turning his back sharply. I raised my head, puzzled, and looked around; the others didn''t seem to care, or perhaps they chose not to... And then, a flicker of understanding passed through me! My cheeks warmed, and I felt a curious tightness in my chest ¨C not shame, exactly, but something else I couldn''t name. What was this? Embarrassment? Modesty? They felt absurd, like relics of another life, another me. Still, I slipped into the new clothes quickly, reveling in the feel of fabric that didn''t scratch or cling uncomfortably.


    The boots were harder. I huffed as I pulled them on, giggling softly at my own awkwardness. When I stood, I stomped the ground twice, testing them like a child trying on shoes for the first time. "They''re good," I declared, my voice filled with a simple, unthinking delight. "Really good."


    Once dressed, I devoured everything they gave me - bread, cheese, dried meat - like a famished beast; my hands moved faster than my thoughts, and the world narrowed to the sensations of hunger and fulfillment, as if everything else had melted away in the heat of the moment. I must have fallen asleep mid-bite because the next thing I remember was a dream ¨C or was it?


    I saw a very old willow, so gnarled that I never thought such a thing could exist, leaned over me and, while gently moving its branches in the gusty wind, whispered old tales, oh, so old that the sun back then was still young and hot! The tree started by showing me my Mistress, with her long black hair swirling around her bare body like a celestial cloak, subtly stealing a strange Key from a blonde, radiant, entity sitting on a tall ivory throne, under the Moon and Star; then it claimed that it or perhaps an ancestor of its own witnessed the passage of the ancient Elves, clad in gleaming silver armor and expensive silks, heading toward the Land Beyond the Sea that no longer exists; then it showed me the Sea People, bearded and harsh, marching fearlessly through the vast forests... And in the end I saw people dressed in long black robes with their heads covered by hoods, kneeling before a merciless Goddess, of strange and cold appearance. With enigmatic features and a beauty that belonged to no world, the divinity radiated an unfathomable elegance, from which nothing revealed whether she was a woman or a man. Her red, piercing, and dominant eyes looked with indifference and cruelty at those who worshiped her, while behind her, a huge spider wove a silver web, so masterfully crafted that it seemed like a strange embroidery...


    And when I opened my eyes, an ancient willow loomed before me, its twisted branches stretching impossibly wide, adorned with silvery leaves that shimmered like a thousand tiny moons. Sunlight pierced the canopy, casting intricate patterns on the ground. The air was warm, sweet with the scent of earth and growing things.


    Around me was light, and I realized that I was wrapped tightly in my brother''s heavy cloak, so tightly that it felt like I was firmly bound; it was like I was cocooned and the fabric coarse against my skin but it felt oddly comforting. My fingers absently traced the folds of the cloak as the dream still lingered in my mind like a half-forgotten melody. And then, suddenly swept by the joy of living, I giggled and looked around.


    The Argonians were nowhere nearby, but my brother and the other two were huddled around a small fire they had lit, talking in whispers. I watched Rasha for a while; he was indeed a strong man now, bearing little resemblance to the one who had left our parents'' house on a foggy autumn morning that seemed so distant that it felt like a dream, one of those dreams which are so vividly remembered, with clarity and details, until the end of life. I couldn''t stop looking at him and a pleasant warmth enveloped me. Apparently, my gaze was quite piercing so, after a while, Rasha turned his face towards me, and seeing me looking at him, he smiled. He came beside me with soft and stealthy steps, and while gently stroking me, he asked if I was hungry.


    -Yes, Rasha, I could eat everything you have and a horse and a half on top!


    I giggled happily.


    -No, Elsie, don''t you eat the horses, they belong to our brother Cicero, who will soon depart. He''s been waiting for you to wake up because he wants to meet you.


    He replied, chuckling softly. Then, a rather short but well-built man rose from beside the fire, came over to us, and shook my hand.


    -So, you''re Elsie, my brother Rasha''s little sister, the one who cut the Mountain like a chicken. I''m Cicero, and although I''m a human like you, you should know that I''m Rasha''s blood brother, which undoubtedly makes me your brother too. If you ever pass through Cheydinhal and need help, ask for me at the alchemist''s.


    He said while embracing me, and then, after he and Rasha shook hands, Cicero mounted his horse and, driving his herd, left on the narrow path along the banks of the Niben towards the north.


    -A very faithful friend, such as you rarely find! Now let me introduce you to Elena; she''s a person who will help you a lot in the future.


    Rasha said.


    And after helping me out of the cloak in which he had enveloped me, he took me by the hand and led me to the fire, where a hooded woman was warming her hands. "Lady Elena, this is my sister Elsie," my brother said, to which the woman glanced briefly, nodded, and continued with her activity. "She doesn''t speak much, but when she does, it''s wise to listen carefully to what she has to say," said Rasha.


    We ate together then. Oh, it''s so good to eat real food, even if it''s just dried meat and crumbs after living in starvation for so long! "Now I''ll take a little nap. Go and play in the woods for a while, but don''t go too far," my brother told me. He stretched out by the fire, which was dying out, and fell asleep instantly.


    The forest was ancient and dense, full of thick and gnarled trees, stumps and fallen trunks, all covered in so much moss and lichen that they didn''t look like any trees I knew. A profound silence, interrupted only occasionally by the voices of birds quarreling somewhere along the riverbank, prevailed within it. I was afraid to disturb the majestic peace of the wood and I began to sneak among the ancient trunks. I smelled a strong animal scent and I followed it until a red flame appeared a short distance ahead of me. Ah, just a fox passing by on its business! "But what business does it have?" I wondered, amused, as I wet my finger and raised it. No, there was no wind at all, so I quickly followed the fox, which seemed in such a hurry! Before long, I saw it suddenly stop and, with its ears raised, looking ahead. Ah, yes, a rabbit seemed very busy digging something out of the ground, maybe roots or who knows... The fox hurried towards it and snatched it up in no time, then set off with its prey in its snout, barely dragging it to be honest! The rabbit was plump, and that made me think of dinner..., oh, I was so interested in what food means at that moment! Ah, a fresh and hot roast from which the juice sizzles on the fire! "Yes, let''s follow the fox; it''s carrying my dinner right now, I chuckled to myself"... Suddenly, I realized that I could hear the fox''s footsteps, and playfully, I closed my eyes and started following it only by the sounds it made as it moved. Before long, it stopped in front of a huge stump, covered in moss, with a hollow that seemed quite roomy, so I stopped too and opened my eyes. Strangely, a weak luminous aura emanated from inside the stump, weak but still much more pronounced than the fox, which, oh gods, in the semi-darkness of the ancient forest, glimmered slightly too! The fox cubs began to stumble out of the cavity, hurrying towards the piece of meat their mother had left down. Then, forgetting about sneaking, I rushed towards their den, very worried that they would devour my dinner! The fox immediately noticed me and, threateningly, barked sharply at me. Its cubs hurried back into the den though, ah, the roast was saved! Amused, I got down on all fours and gracefully approached the animal, which seemed angry but quite alarmed now. It sprang towards me and tried to claw my face, but I easily dodged to the side, and just as the fox missed, I gave it a powerful and long scratch with my claws. It collapsed whimpering and trembling, so I quickly went and took the rabbit ¨C it was mine now! I looked into the cavity, but it was too deep; I couldn''t see anything inside, but the aura shone somewhere deep within it. But what should I do with them? Foxes aren''t really good for eating, I thought, and then I felt a sudden movement behind me. Sure, it was their mother again, trying to claw my left leg this time, so I instantly hit it with the other leg. The fox rolled over whimpering a few steps away... Looking at me with unspeakable hatred, the beast rose trembling and tensed again for another leap. "Stay there, stay down you little beast, I don''t necessarily want to kill you; you''re not good for eating!" I thought and looked it straight in the eyes. It whimpered softly and crawled back to its den so I took my prey and left with soft and stealthy steps, determined to try hunting on my own now.


    The forest seemed darker now, older and denser, and somewhere to my left, a small blue flicker was visible. I sneaked in there, but there was only a thick layer of mold on an old stump, so thick that not even three chained people could have embraced it. I went further, and not long after, I saw a rabbit walking carelessly among the rotten trunks. I followed it, amused to see it stop from time to time and sniff, cocking its huge ears. It started digging somewhere near a fresh stump; the trunk lay next to it with still green leaves on its branches, and then I approached quietly and grabbed it by its ears. But the little beast twisted lightning-fast and scratched me so deeply that I almost let it go! I laughed softly, feeling the intense and lively pain, and I whispered, "Ah, it''s so good to be alive!" I tore apart the poor thing with my claws and hung it on my belt and then I thought it might be time to return to my brother.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Somewhere nearby, however, some heavy breathing could be heard, and noisy footsteps approached me, so, curious, I hid behind the fallen trunk, among the branches, and waited. A whitish aura was already visible in the direction of the noise, "Oh, it''s something big!" I thought, and almost at the same moment, an unbearable stench began to spread around. A huge bear, in my opinion, appeared lumbering among the trees and sniffing in my direction. I hurriedly sneaked away from there, circling the stump and stopping near a close thicker trunk. The bear stopped for a while, seeming somewhat puzzled, I thought at the time, and then continued its slow movement exactly to the spot where I had been a moment before. It sniffed for a long time, and then, with a stupid look on its face, began to examine the surroundings. Perplexed, it started licking something just behind the fallen trunk, and then I remembered that I was injured. I smiled and I thought it was time to return to our camp.


    It wasn''t hard at all to find it, and when I arrived, I sneaked up behind my brother, feeling the warm glow of the fire on my face as I hugged him tightly from behind. "I''m back, Rasha! Look what I''ve brought!" I said proudly, dropping the two rabbits at his feet.


    "How did you catch them... oh, but what''s with this blood? You''re badly hurt, Elsie!" Rasha turned, his face lighting up in a smile that quickly faded as he noticed my hand. I laughed, holding up my scratched hand like a trophy. "This rabbit almost killed me! I fought bravely, though. You should''ve been there to protect me, brother!" But when he tried to examine my wound, I pulled him into another hug, burying my face in his chest. His warmth, his strength¡ªit was all I needed in that moment! I kissed him on the cheek, then, emboldened, kissed him again, longer this time... Rasha stiffened, his hands gripping my shoulders as he gently pushed me back. His eyes searched mine, confusion flickering across his face. "Come on," he said after a pause, his voice quieter now. "Let''s see Elena about that wound."


    We went together, hand in hand, to the hooded woman reading near the fire. Without a word, she took my injured arm and pulled me down beside her. Her grip was firm, her movements efficient. Then, as she pressed hard on my wounds, she drew back her hood and looked directly into my eyes.


    I let out a soft gasp, more from shock than pain. It was Maria. The same Maria I had last seen years ago, in that mysterious house in the Elven Garden District. Her face was like stone, her eyes piercing and unyielding, commanding silence without uttering a single word.


    I obeyed, though a part of me longed to embrace her. The sight of her filled me with a warm sense of surprise, and I found myself wishing to introduce her to Rasha as an old and trusted acquaintance. How foolishly naive I was, thinking she might welcome such familiarity...


    She examined my hand, then opened a pouch at her side, pulling out a thin needle and a jar of pungent ointment. As she pressed the mixture into my wounds, pain flared like fire. I whimpered despite myself, but Rasha''s hand was steady in mine. His stern and cruel eyes gave me the strength to endure, even as tears blurred my vision.


    When she finished, she bandaged my hand with the same precision, then placed a surprisingly gentle hand on my head. ''Good girl,'' she said, her tone firm and measured, devoid of warmth but not unkind. ''Rest now. And no more wandering¡ªyour hand needs time to heal.''


    I nodded, too exhausted to respond. Later, as the fire crackled softly, we shared a simple meal that felt like a banquet to me. The roasted rabbit was tender and smoky, and for a moment, all the hardships of the day faded into the background.


    After the meal, Elena pulled her hood low and wrapped herself tightly in her cloak, her breathing slowing almost instantly as she drifted into sleep. Rasha and I sat quietly by the dying fire, the stars above winking through the dense canopy of trees. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel safe.


    I stayed close to my brother for a long while, the two of us listening to the dense, humid whispers of the forest night. We talked softly about the loved ones we''d lost, and at one point, Rasha murmured that they must all be in Nocturnal''s realm by now. I clung tighter to him. I knew they weren''t there, but letting him believe it brought a fragile comfort.


    Eventually, I drifted off, lulled by his voice recounting stories from our childhood. And then, I dreamed again.


    "I''ll leave you now, my little dove," Nocturnal''s voice purred, laced with amusement. "You''ll make new friends soon, though I can''t say I approve of them. Still, they''ll teach you... useful things." A low chuckle followed. "A part of me remains within you, until your end. I am a touch weaker for it, but you? You''re far stronger than most of your kind! From now on, you''ll have the power to influence the will of others¡ªcreatures, and perhaps more¡ªbut don''t think it''s easy. It''s a delicate craft, one that requires discipline and subtlety. Your new acquaintance, Elena, can guide you in mastering it."


    "Once you reach Bravil, seek out Rashid at the Guild. He''ll see to your needs, though your new mother will most certainly give you more than enough..."


    "My new mother?" I interrupted, my tone sharp. "My mother is Shaira, and she''s dead! And... since when did you learn to speak properly? Can I answer you now?"


    Nocturnal''s laugh was deep and resonant, mocking yet strangely affectionate. "Ah, you''re as charming as ever, little worm. But try to behave¡ªyou''ll live longer... And no, I didn''t learn to speak because I already know everything! Well, almost everything, but that''s none of your concern." Her tone turned sly. "Yes, we can talk now, though it''s far too complex for a fool like you to grasp how or why."


    I felt my face flush with indignation, but Nocturnal continued, unbothered. "Suffice it to say, I am a part of you now, and you... well, you''ve carved out a small place in me. You may also visit my domain whenever you please. There''s always something waiting for you there."


    I tried to speak, but she pressed on, her voice softening into an ominous calm. "As for your new mother, listen closely: she''s of the pious sort. You''ll respect her and her god, little one. Do not test my patience. Farewell!"


    We stayed for more than one month in our small camp by the banks of the Niben; Rasha even built a small hut from branches and leaves for us.


    I also noticed with amazement that my former steel claws, the gift from my dear mother Shaira, were part of me now. They behaved exactly like a cat''s claws, normally retracted and almost invisible, and oh gods, they grew, and needed to be arranged and filed just like nails!


    And after my wounds healed¡ªsomething that happened quickly, far too quickly for a human being¡ªI used them frequently in hunting. I roamed many times, by day or by night, through the forest, which had now become familiar to me, almost devoid of secrets. Upon my return, I always carried two or three rabbits at my belt, and sometimes, when I entertained myself by climbing the ancient trees along the banks of the Niben, I brought back a few birds from the countless nests built high in their branches.


    Rasha was amazed by my hunting skills; he showed his admiration through words and tender gestures, so different from his cold and distant behavior that I both knew and admired. My brother sometimes expressed a desire to accompany me on my hunts, but I laughed and told him he would undoubtedly scare off all the small and large creatures in the area with his noisy and clumsy ways. So, Rasha tried his luck at fishing in the murky, sluggish waters of the river; he didn''t have much success, though, which spurred me to try my hand at it¡ªbut not with a rod or a net...


    Late at night, just before dawn, I slipped quietly into a dense reedbed that covered one of the Niben''s many bends. Standing knee-deep in the warm, soft mud, I waited patiently until I caught sight of a faint phosphorescent glow that signaled the approach of one of the many carp or catfish that thrived in these waters. I judged the size of the fish by its aura, never settling for just any specimen; I always waited for one large enough to satisfy my hunting ambitions. Then, while the fish was greedily nibbling at succulent roots, I pounced and captured it with neither hesitation nor escape. My claws were like hooks¡ªswift and merciless¡ªgiving my prey no chance to flee!


    After my second fishing triumph, during which I caught a catfish almost as large as myself, Rasha broke his fishing rod in two and hurled it into the Niben. He laughed heartily and declared that, from then on, his sole responsibility would be to cook the food that his skilled and beloved sister would bring. And I must say, he had a remarkable talent for it; even now, after so much time has passed in the hourglass of eternity, I have not forgotten the divine taste of the exquisite fish soups my dear brother prepared!


    We were so happy together there, on the forested banks of the ancient river, and I wished that period of my life would never end. I felt like a small and innocent girl once again, and Rasha was so young that, even though our souls were deeply scarred by the loss of our loved ones, the joy of life spent together in the heart of nature was not overshadowed by any of the dark specters that would come to haunt us in the years that lay ahead.


    I got very close to Elena during this time; wise and skillful as she was, she knew too well that I was a little more than a sassy and wild girl, and she, the taciturn and reserved one, engaged in long conversations with me now.


    She questioned me at length about the life I had led in the bowels of the Imperial City and seemed particularly interested in the development of my auditory and olfactory perception abilities. Elena asked me some questions about these two aspects that seemed meaningless to me, considering there were far more interesting things I could have told her about my activities in the galleries of the capital''s sewers. But, as always, when someone paid attention to me, I became extremely talkative, and in the end, I told her everything.


    I mentioned the amulet of the Goddess Mara, and Elena smiled faintly when I asked why the face on the amulet had such a different expression from the figure of the goddess''s statue in Arboretum District. However, she didn''t answer my question, so I told her about the venerable priest of the divinity whom I had met on that long-ago gray and frosty afternoon. She told me his name was Pyrokar and that I would certainly meet him again in Bravil. "The Sacred City..." Elena added with an enigmatic smile.


    She seemed very interested when I told her about the abyssal creature I had encountered in the darkness of the metropolis''s underground and asked for details about the sounds I had perceived while I was under its power. After I answered all her questions, she spoke to me at length about vampires and their clans, which could sometimes be found in the depths of the Dwemer Ruins in Vvardenfell. Elena then added that the one I had encountered was "The Father of Magic," but she refused to elaborate on the statement when I asked her about it.


    She laughed heartily when I recounted in great detail all my pranks on the band of urchins who had settled, without my permission, in the marble dome beneath the Imperial Palace. And she murmured in a low voice, "A little beast sometimes needs to play..." To my puzzled look, Elena simply responded by taking my left hand and pressing on it, forcing my claws to unsheathe, much like one might coax a cat''s claws into view. She looked at them and smiled softly as she told me that my Mistress is a mischievous and perverse entity...


    In short, Elena made me tell her almost everything that had happened since our memorable meeting in the mysterious house in the Elven Gardens District. But, generally, she didn''t answer my questions and never commented on any of the strange dreams that had dominated that period of my life, even though she listened with particular attention as I described them. When I mentioned the second gift Nocturnal had given me and Her statement that Elena could help me fully understand all its aspects, she said, "All will be revealed in time." And, as usual, she added nothing more and encouraged me to keep talking about whatever came to mind.


    And so, between my conversations with Elena, my solitary wanderings into the mysterious forest, and the wonderful moments I spent with my beloved brother Rasha, the final days of that dreadful summer slipped away fast, far too fast... When the first frost heralded the arrival of autumn, I knew that soon we would leave that place where I had been so happy, and where some of the deepest wounds of my soul had begun to heal. And so it was: on a cold, rainy morning, Rasha set fire to our little hut, and I cast one last glance at the ancient willow that had watched over our summer nights. In that moment, I understood that I would never return to this magical place where, as I would later discover, profound changes had taken root in my mind.


    Then, all three of us set off along the Niben to the south and towards evening, when the weather cleared up a bit, we saw the city walls of Bravil glowing softly in the twilight.

 Chapter 12

    Bravil... Oh, Bravil is the city of my youth, the city where the power of my mind grew immensely in an extraordinarily short time, as my eminent teacher, Elena, put it! I love Bravil and I really need to be in Bravil; I long to live there again and, who knows, maybe someday that will be possible!


    The Holy City, Bravil, is the only place in the mortal world where, under the full light of Secunda, I can directly commune with our Mother in a way that feels almost physical, as though her essence flows through the Lucky Lady statue itself, embracing me in its dark and divine presence; ah, it is so good to lie prostrated at the feet of that magnificent statue and I want so much to pray and meditate there, in that place; I wish to absorb its wonderful teachings, to nourish myself with them! Or maybe to light black candles in our Mother not so holy temple which dominates the town and to hear its soft and so sweet voice saying the most nicest and true words from this world! Oh, the vigilantes would be very surprised to know what''s happening in reality in the Temple of Mara from Bravil! But I rest assured, this would be the last discovery from their miserable life...


    Bravil is the most fascinating and at the same time the most dangerous city I have wandered through in my life so far. It is built along the Larsius River, which served the ancient inhabitants of the settlement as a natural fortification against invaders but which nowadays is nothing more than a miserable and foul-smelling canal.


    The houses are almost all made of wood, and in most parts of the city, they are stacked so tightly together that they resemble pieces of a precarious, overburdened domino set. In Bravil, more than in any other city I''ve lived, there is a severe shortage of land, and builders have resorted to incredible feats of inventiveness and daring to make do with what little space there is. Not to mention the tenants, who, on occasion, add a new room to the roof of their building¡ªsmall at first, perhaps made only of cloth walls, but sometimes growing in ways no one would expect. Or the rickety bridges built between the roofs of towering buildings, which over time have been turned into shoddy, makeshift apartments, rented out for a handful of copper coins each month! The streets are so narrow and the buildings so close together that, in many cases, neighbors can easily toss household objects from one window to another!


    The city seems very poor to visitors, and indeed, many extremely poor beings live here, but I can tell you with certainty that in Bravil are a lot of extremely wealthy individuals and organizations, wealthier than anywhere else in Cyrodiil! It is a true paradise for smugglers and dealers of exotic goods brought from the South, especially from Elsweyr, and as it is natural, around these fabulous fortunes, so numerous, a real industry of gambling and other such amusements has developed. Well, perhaps the owners of these establishments are actually the richest of all those who live in Bravil!


    The Order of Stendarr is not welcome here and rarely you can spot groups of heavily armed and armored vigilantes sneaking fearfully through the narrow, dark alleys of the city towards their businesses at the Temple of Mara. In fact, even the priests of Mara do not like them but they submit to the religious authority of the Order to some extent, never completely. I, who now know more about these matters than any other thinking being alive, can tell you that the greatest oddity of the city of Bravil comes from the subtle connection, if I can call it that, between Mara and Mephala. And the priests from the Temple of Mara in Bravil are all initiates to some extent in this mystery, and consequently their opinion on matters such as "good" or "evil" is quite different from that of their other brethren.


    But let''s get back to my tale... Rasha parted ways with us at the edge of the forest and I was extraordinarily surprised and saddened by this fact, especially since he told me at our parting that his place of residence is in Leyawiin and that he will come whenever he can to see me. I couldn''t understand and accept the fact that I couldn''t go with him any further, and then, Leyawiin... I asked where this city was, and Elena told me that it was somewhere very far in the South and that the road was long and extremely dangerous... But my tears and protests were not taken into consideration; they let me calm down at the edge of the forest, where I had sat on the ground and refused to go any further without my brother; meanwhile, he and Elena went out onto the road and studied the surroundings. Then they talked at length and, in the end, came back to me. Rasha was grinning from ear to ear and lifted me into his strong arms; he hugged me and kissed me several times, then told Elena that he personally feared leaving a "wildcat like Elsie" loose in the middle of a city as densely populated as Bravil. Elena, contrary to her usual behavior, laughed and assured him that she would make sure the "wildcat" would soon be safe in her new home and under the care of the Mother.


    Then Rasha hugged me one again, and turned back into the forest, slipping through the bushes; the sparse trees seemed to close behind him like a curtain, and I felt as though the weald itself was swallowing him whole, taking him farther from me with every step...


    And I, with tears still streaming from my eyes, began, in a childish outburst, to lose my trust in men: "They are such liars; didn''t my brother promise me such a short time ago that we would never be apart again?" It seems, however, that I had spoken my thoughts aloud, because I saw Elena burst into laughter; she gently pulled me close to her, hugged me, and told me that I was wrong. In fact, Rasha loves me very much and is deeply saddened by our parting, but he is not allowed to enter the Holy City. "Not yet," she added as the smile faded from her lips. Then she ordered me to follow her, and I had no choice but to trudge after her through the mud of the Green Road.


    And I did so hesitant but also eager to know more; though I had never seen Bravil, the way Elena spoke of it in our long conversations filled me with both dread and curiosity. "What kind of place could it be, where the Mother herself walked among mortals, even if only in the shadows of night?" I was thinking as we both walked into town shortly before Bravil''s gates were closed for the night.


    The city was already shrouded in the thick mists of evening, and I could barely make out anything around me or understand what was happening nearby; only the pale auras of the people still walking the streets told me that Bravil was a very crowded city. The smells I was picking up in abundance suggested poverty and filth above all else, but also the unsettling presence of a great throng of people stirring somewhere in the eastern part of the city. The effluvia wafting from that direction reminded me of the Waterfront District, and, very curious, I asked Elena if there was a port there. She curtly confirmed my assumption and then told me in a harsh voice that we had no time for pointless chatter. And then, my companion led me through the dark alleys to a heavy iron gate belonging to a tall stone wall. Here she knocked with the hammer attached to the gate and a small window opened. Elena whispered something, and the gate opened silently. We parted ways there and Elena embraced me while saying "We''ll meet again, my dear."


    An old crippled man carrying a lantern with a very dim light led me through the courtyard which, in the pitch-black tar-like night, seemed enormous to me, to the front of a richly carved door which he opened before me. He touched his forehead, bowed deeply, and then left. I was very surprised by this reception and also a little frightened, thinking perhaps Elena had brought me to the wrong place but when I entered the receiving hall my surprise turned into outright panic! Soft carpets, so thick that my feet sank into their texture, painted in pale colors but which were leaving an impression of opulence, intricately crafted brasswork pieces gleaming dimly in the room''s diffuse light, the huge paintings adorning the walls paneled with dark wood, all gave the impression of fabulous, overwhelming wealth. At least for me who had never seen such things in my parents'' house, and they were by no means poor!


    A man dressed entirely in black leather emerged from the semidarkness, his movements so smooth and quiet that he seemed less like a man and more like a shadow given form. One moment, he was standing near the far wall; the next, he was close enough for me to feel the faint chill radiating from him. I hadn''t even seen him move. Then I noticed that the lamplight failed to touch him properly, as though it shied away from the deep black of his armor. His shadow stretched long and thin across the floor, bending unnaturally toward me, as if it had a mind of its own.


    When he gestured for me to follow, I had a moment of panic and wanted to flee back through the door, hoping to find Elena again. But the man gently took my hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and pulled me after him. I hesitated, a shiver running down my spine as the scent of jasmine¡ªa scent I had smelled before, in the glade where Mara''s statue in the Arboretum stood¡ªdrifted faintly in the air. But there was no other way, and so I followed him nervously through a narrow, long, and brightly lit corridor, so bright that it made my eyes protest painfully, tear up, and close involuntarily. I stopped, but the man tightened his grip just slightly and gently urged me forward.


    All the while, I felt a strange pull toward him, like an invisible thread binding me to his presence. Yet with every step, the crawling unease at the back of my neck grew stronger, as if the very world protested his being here, in this realm...


    Finally, he led me into a small, dimly lit room, where a tall woman (ah, but all women are tall to me, yet this one was so slim that she seemed to have an unreal height) dressed all in silk stood, petting a huge leopard cuddled up tightly against her body.


    Once again, I was seized with fear and stood rooted to the spot, but the woman smiled at me and said, "Leave us now, First among the Faithful." The man left without a word. She pushed the animal away with a commanding sweep of her hand and approached me. Reaching out her hand, which I shook shyly, she said, "I am Alisanne Dupre, and with your permission, I will be your mother for a while. Although I would rather be your older sister, you see, our Mother decided otherwise." She smiled warmly and embraced me.


    Instantly, a wave of love swept over me, and deeply moved by Alisanne''s attitude, I hugged her as tightly as I could and began to cry uncontrollably, like a little child. You see, my friends, I am very fragile at heart, and people had generally treated me with coldness and even cruelty until that moment. Well, maybe not all of them, but the majority persecuted and mocked me¡ªdeservedly or not, that remains for you to decide¡ªand a simple gesture of kindness, of tenderness, made me, as it does even nowadays, deeply moved.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "Ah, we will be good friends for the time that fate has granted us, I feel it," Alisanne sighed deeply and hugged me for a long time. Then she leaned back slightly, her hands resting on my shoulders, and looked me over. "Oh, Elsie, but your hair is so dirty and tangled... And on top of that, you smell absolutely dreadful. You do realize that, don''t you?" She chuckled lightly, her laughter like soft chimes. "Come," she said, holding my hand tenderly.


    After I was thoroughly cleaned over several days, fed, and allowed to rest, frail and broken like a wounded animal, Alisanne''s attitude towards me shifted and, from a loving and tender sister, she became a strict and severe mother. It is true that there were many evenings filled with warmth¡ªwhen we played like carefree girls, kissing and caressing each other and wonderful nights when he told me beautiful or strange stories that have immersed my life in a mystical, fairy-tale atmosphere! But outside those precious moments, she was unrelenting. Her punishments were as harsh as they were swift, and she never hesitated to push her discipline to the brink of cruelty. Every mistake, every lapse in judgment, was met with a severity that left no room for mercy. Her relentless approach left scars¡ªboth physical and emotional¡ªbut it also shaped the woman I was destined to become.


    And so began the life I led alongside my beloved mother, Alisanne, in the headquarters of the Dark Brotherhood in Tamriel. Lady Dupre was the last Listener in a long, unbroken line spanning millennia. At the same time, she was an extraordinarily powerful and intelligent woman; in addition to these qualities, her erudition was matched only by the piety with which she embraced the cult of Sithis.


    I do not think I have encountered anyone since who was so deeply imbued with the sacredness of a religion; and I assure you that, during my endless wanderings through the mortal world, I met countless devout individuals, some of whom carried their faith beyond the furthest boundaries of fanaticism. But the High Priestess Alisanne, in the time when I had the honor and fortune to know her, lived solely to preach the principles of the ancient cult of the Void. Of course, only those teachings which are part of the universally accepted doctrine in Black Marsh, where the priests of Sithis serve in their temples¡ªtemples that seem so strange and alien to men and mer alike and are widespread across the entire territory of that fascinating people.


    Unfortunately, however, this extraordinarily gifted and devout woman lived and acted in a nefarious time, both for the Dark Brotherhood and the cult of Sithis. The ancient organization, whose origins are lost somewhere far back in the mists of the many centuries since the first Listener had the privilege of hearing the divine voice of Mephala, was in its final days of existence. Tragically, the fate of this brotherhood had been tightly bound to the Empire''s fate by the disastrous structure known as the Black Hand¡ªa kind of governing council for the organization that had never truly earned the favor of the Queen of Oblivion; and with the disintegration of that great state, the Dark Brotherhood lost all its heavens, save for those in Leyawiin and Cheydinhal. I will not mention here the pale imitation constituted by the small family Astrid maintained so actively in Skyrim for decades; this peculiar tribe was never in contact with the Listener confirmed by the Mother and represented only the embodiment of the will of a fearsome woman... But the disaster was brought upon the Dark Brotherhood by the Black Hand when they attempted¡ªand partially succeeded¡ªto transform the structure into a secular organization, its goals driven more by profit than by divine purpose...


    And in the end, driven by wrath, in a dramatic climax that evoked a blood-red, darkened by the dark clouds of the coming storm, sunset, Mephala, both Mother and Sovereign, punished all the members of the Dark Brotherhood, without distinction and regardless of the innocence of some or the true faith of others... Well, not quite all of them... According to the cunning and extreme perversity that defines Her, She forgave and protected two of the members of the organization...


    Anyway, the time I spent together with my third mother was one of the strangest and most fascinating periods of my life. Alisanne preferred to treat me during that time as if I were a little girl; she dressed me in adorable and charming outfits: short skirts and flowery blouses, dainty little boots, and long, colored socks. And, of course, every morning she would fasten silk ribbons of various colors in my hair, after brushing it for a long time until it became diaphanous and silky again. I gladly indulged in this peculiar situation, which might have seemed ridiculous to some who had known me as ''The Laughing Ghost,'' the shadowy leader of a significant part of the Imperial Capital''s underworld. l also endured the severe punishments Alisanne would administer to me in various situations; she would lash me with the same whip she sometimes used on herself in front of the small statue of the Mother she kept in her austere room. I would cry and wail exactly as I knew she wanted me to, though, strangely enough, in a short time, I began to perceive pain in a much more faint way than an ordinary human being would. Yet the scars on my back remain visible even to this day...


    Ah, my new mother even temporarily cured me of the need to immediately claim any shiny object that did not belong to me. The treatment she applied was both wise and humorous. For instance, on the morning she discovered her plain gold ring¡ªthe only piece of jewelry adorning her stunning body¡ªwas missing, she came to me smiling and gifted me a little box filled with priceless jewels: rubies and emeralds of immeasurable value, their soft glimmer set in gold or platinum works so fine they seemed like masterful webs spun by the Queen''s spiders. At the same time, she asked if she might have her ring back! "A very dangerous ring, by the way," she added as the smile faded from her face... Oh, my mother Alisanne possessed the extraordinary ability to perfectly understand the weaknesses of those around her and to correct them in the most surprising and effective ways, ranging from gentleness and good cheer to cruelty and mercilessness!


    I had more than I could have ever wished for there, in Alisanne''s house. Above all, I had the best teachers my new mother could provide, and they taught me how to read and write. Besides, Alisanne''s mansion housed a huge library filled with a vast array of books from which I learned many interesting and surprising things. I also learned to sing both vocally and on the lute and flute, to dance, to draw and paint. And much more! Some days were spent entirely on physical training and gymnastics in the residence''s courtyard, where, quite often, my good friend Leo joyfully joined me! Alisanne''s enormous leopard quickly became very attached to me, and sometimes, at night, with the characteristic grace of felines, it would slip from Alisanne''s narrow and firm bed into my fluffy, soft one. Now that I think about it, maybe Leo loved only my bed, not necessarily me; perhaps it simply tolerated me as felines, big or small, tend to do with individuals who can bring them some benefit! The First among the Faithful trained me daily in knife fighting and with a dagger or two. Here, I mastered the art of fighting with two blades, able to wield both of my hands with equal dexterity and power. The crossbow became my inseparable companion in training throughout this period, and Alisanne procured and gifted me a master crossbow¡ªone made in long-forgotten times by the People of the Deep. It must have cost a fortune!


    I also learned from my mother about Sithis and the religion that venerates Him. Alisanne often spoke to me about Him, the One God as she called it, or Sithis as you probably know Him, my friends. But this name means nothing¡ªit is merely a term we use to describe the Unknown, the Void. Ah, the Void, it may well be the generating Matrix, the Creator and the Destroyer of worlds, a force beyond comprehension. And, superficially and erroneously, it has come to symbolize the death of all living beings¡ªthose on Nirn, in the strange and wondrous realms of Oblivion, or in the dull domain of Aetherius.


    In our mansion in Bravil, there was a spacious room that resembled a temple nave on a smaller scale, where Alisanne would preach the teachings of this One God to a large number of people. On those preaching days, our house would be partially invaded by silent, humble crowds. I was always by her side, carrying her ritual objects, her books, and her sacred garments. I helped her dress in the sacred vestments, and later, undress to return to her ordinary clothes. And Alisanne¡ªshe was so beautiful, with a body that made me feel strange and embarrassed. Ah, the smile she gave me when she saw me blush...


    Oh, Alisanne was utterly feverish in her devotion during the rituals she performed, her eyes often growing empty as if touched by something beyond the mortal realm. Her passion was palpable, a fervor that bordered on madness, especially in the presence of the faithful and those who, disillusioned and sorrowful, sought to understand this God who, unlike the others, promised nothing¡ªand did not threaten either. It was as if the very connection she maintained with the Unholy Mother herself amplified her devotion to an almost unbearable intensity.


    In her sermons, Alisanne often spoke of how those who believe in Sithis have no right to stand idly by, to merely observe and contemplate the existing order. They must shatter illusions and reveal the lies of rulers; they must destroy¡ªor aid those who do¡ªanything that has grown too old in the realm of politics. She always added that the world is not governed by harmony, but by conflict and evolution. The ultimate truth is not found in stability, but in accepting disintegration as a path to rebirth. She also preached that death should not be met with fear, but with acceptance. In the end, death is the proof that Sithis'' work moves forward, ensuring that the world is in a state of perpetual change.


    Sithis is the God of the desperate and the brave, as Alisanne said. He is the enemy of order¡ªmore precisely, of that kind of order that leads to stagnation. He does not give, nor does He take; He has no interest in individuals, for even nations are structures far too small for His work. He pays no heed to the prayers, whims, sorrows, or joys of mortals. Yet, at times, He takes notice of great social movements¡ªwars, vast migrations, great rebellions. He never interferes directly in such events, but once they have ended, we may wonder if He has moved pieces upon the vast chessboard that is our Universe.


    And each of Alisanne''s sermons ended with the ritual words: "We serve not for reward, but for Truth."


    The First Among the Faithful¡ªlike a shadow¡ªwas always present, silent and watchful, during these times. We both knew he was there, in the altar room, his presence both eerie and reassuring. And Leo, oh poor Leo, was always confined to our bedroom on those days. I cannot forget the sad, reproachful looks it would throw at us as we went about our rituals. Once Alisanne finally released it, it would dart out like an arrow, its joy spilling over as it tumbled into the grass of the garden, rolling and frolicking for hours...


    And the seasons passed, one after another; after what felt like an eternity of comfort and contentment for me, Elena came on a hot summer day to our house in Bravil. I ran joyfully into the courtyard, wanting to embrace her, but I froze in front of her. She barely resembled the woman I once knew in the forests along the Niben; the old lady looked younger now, though her stature, her ornate hood, and the sharpness of her cold gaze whispered of the familiarity of an old acquaintance. Elena''s voice too: " What happened to Alisanne, has she gone mad? And what about your silly garments?," she said , glaring at me. "But..." I whispered, frightened, to which Elena replied, looking me straight in the eyes, "But you look even more foolish now than when I left you here. I see that quite clearly... What does our esteemed Alisanne occupy herself with? Does she just preach and play with Lucien or with that wretched cat of hers?" "Lucien? Who is Lucien? And Leo is faithful and graceful, sensitive and affectionate," I responded somewhat annoyed. Elena simply shook her head and, while entering the house, she said "Leo is just a primitive killer and Lucien a cultured one" and walked into the reception room where Alisanne awaited, lost in thoughts. They both retired then to the cult chamber and, after a while, Elena left without casting a glance at me, without saying a word... I watched her leave, feeling both annoyed and unsettled, before turning back to my daily tasks; and starting from the next day, Elena visited us often and took me on long walks through Bravil.

 Chapter 13

    Elena was my true mentor and greatly helped me understand certain things that perhaps my mother Alisanne should have explained to me; now that both of them are so far from me, I find myself sometimes reflecting on this without anger or resentment, though the bitterness never truly fades. I often remember how much Alisanne loved me, and how much I loved her in return; now, as I begin to understand more, I feel a deep sadness realizing how lonely this brilliant woman truly was... Perhaps she never fully grasped the subtle aspects of our religion, being too absorbed in her thoughts and rituals devoted to Sithis. Yet Sithis is but a dead end on the long and arduous path to uncovering these dark mysteries. At times, I even find myself doubting that He exists at all. At least, not as we imagine Him. And I have reasons to believe that, if Sithis does exist, He is not of our world at all...


    But Elena... Elena possessed an uncanny wisdom and a wealth of knowledge that seemed boundless. I vividly remember our walks along the riverbanks and the hours we spent by the Old Lucky Lady statue, the invaluable advice she gave me, and the astonishing tales she spun at the foot of that strange monument. You see, my friends, Bravil is more than a city¡ªit is a place steeped in ancient magic, the strange and alien magic of the Ayleids, which lingers even now in its very stones and waters.


    The city itself is located on the site of an ancient settlement of the First Elves, the Noble Elves. And while all visible external remnants of this civilization have long since turned to dust and ashes due to the countless waves of wild peoples who passed through these lands, there are still plenty of underground galleries and halls that remain accessible only to those initiated in the deepest mysteries of the Queen of Oblivion. Even they, however, do not venture often into these places soaked in the Ayleid magic, for the subtle details of this magic are no longer known to anyone among the living today.


    Those attuned to magic and its energy can learn much here just by absorbing the divine vibrations around them, especially if they have around a mentor as powerful and wise as Elena. Thus, I managed to understand and master Nocturnal''s second gift, becoming capable of using it perfectly here. At the same time, during our walks along the meandering streets of the city, Elena spoke to me about the strange relationship that exists between Mara and Mephala. But perhaps it seems strange only to our limited minds which are taught to judge and classify things according to simplified principles that do not reflect reality at all. Ah, reality, yet another word devoid of true meaning... The ancient statue acted as a powerful resonator whenever I was with Elena near it, which makes me believe that my esteemed teacher was herself a traveler through the strange Daedric realms, beyond the boundaries of our narrow mortal plane. But I digress once again; it is enough to tell you that Elena perfected my abilities in what people call Illusion Magic and, to the extent that I was able to absorb them, she shared with me her rich knowledge of the arts of Restoration and Alteration.


    At the end of my study period under Elena''s guidance, I dared to ask her why she uses a different name than the one she had given me when we met in that unsettling house in the Elven Garden District. Elena smiled melancholically and did not answer my question directly. Instead, she told me the tragic story of the life of a simple and gentle woman who, far away beyond a boundary that cannot be crossed by mortals, had seen her beloved son die to atone for the sins of those who did not deserve him. And for their descendants'' sins, and the descendants'' of their descendants'' sins, and so on, in an almost endless chain that ultimately led to the revelation of divinity. I was deeply moved by the way Elena/Maria told the whole story, and when she finished and stopped to look at me, her gaze long and questioning, I stammered empty words that did not express the turmoil in my heart at all. And I added the word "tragedy" in the end... But Elena smiled kindly and told me I hadn''t understood anything; she added that probably one of the priests of the Great Mother would explain to me, when the time was right, the full meaning of the things she had told me. Then, as we parted at the garden gate of Alisanne''s house¡ªwhere Elena had never entered again in my presence¡ªshe added: "You know, Elsie, in some twisted way, Alisanne has always been like a daughter to me..."


    Rasha didn''t keep his word and for over a year I didn''t see him again but, at some point, he came to Bravil and stayed here, renting a room in one of the many boarding houses along the docks. He used to come often to my mother''s residence and then he and Alisanne would withdraw for long discussions, after which, frequently, Rasha would be absent from the city for a while. Now, in hindsight, I can''t help but suspect that during a certain period, he became Alisanne''s Silencer, though I could never be certain; I also believe they tried to reopen the Sanctuaries in Anvil and Chorrol, which, as I was to find out later, they didn''t succeed.


    I spent a lot of time with my beloved brother in these happy days; I remember now with painful joy and nostalgia our walks through Bravil and the meals we served together in those charming little taverns along the docks... Oh, how many wonders I saw there, magicians and charlatans, fire eaters and snake tamers, fortune-tellers and soothsayers, all those wonderful people, new and sometimes downright strange to me, arriving from the South on those huge ships that frequently docked in the port! Rasha would spoil me with anything I desired, buying me cute trinkets and strange baubles from the merchants peddling their exotic wares in their little booths along the docks and I still have the small jade ring he gave me one warm, fragrant summer evening!


    Together, we wandered beyond the city''s walls, taking leisurely walks or simply resting on the banks of the Larsius River. Oh, how many tranquil hours we spent there, basking in the golden warmth of summer days, while the air buzzed with the endless symphony of insects, especially the ceaseless song of crickets! Rasha would gently stroke my hair as he spun strange tales that I''m certain he wove right there, in the moment. So many times, I drifted off to sleep, lulled by his voice, softer than I''d ever heard it, while he kept watch over my dreams until the Sun dipped below the horizon and the scented shadows of the summer night cloaked the land.


    But the moment came when my mother, Alisanne, entered my room one night, harshly chased away Leo, who was peacefully sleeping in my arms, and said, "Elsie, it''s time. Put this on and follow me." I was accustomed to my mother''s severe demeanor, so I quickly changed into the garment she brought me and followed her. She wore a simple, short black robe, slightly worn from use, and, to my surprise, was barefoot, just as I was.


    Together we descended into the basement where The First among the Faithful awaited us, holding a long, narrow leather box intricately adorned with strange runes. After shutting the door behind us¡ªbarely managing to stop Leo, who probably thought I was simply changing my sleeping spot¡ªThe First among the Faithful pressed a hidden spot on the wall, and a doorway creaked open, revealing a damp tunnel that smelled of fresh earth and ancient stone. He lit a torch and stepped inside with his unmatched feline grace, leading us into the dim corridor ahead.


    The walls soon widened, and the flickering torchlight illuminated a cavern that seemed both natural and eerily constructed. Marble columns, their surfaces carved with peculiar and unsettling symbols, supported the ceiling, while the floor was paved with intricately etched slabs. The air was heavy with the scent of myrrh, and waves of magical energy radiated through the space. The sheer uncanniness of the place overwhelmed me¡ªI staggered under its pressure, and had The First among the Faithful not caught me, I would have collapsed to the ground. In the end, I fainted, and when I awoke, my mother''s calm, happy face was gazing down at me.


    Alisanne gently caressed my hair and kissed my forehead before standing. She turned to The First among the Faithful and said, "Lucien, leave us now. Wait in the courtyard, and when the time comes, take Elsie to the Temple of Mara. Once you have entrusted her to Lady Elena, return to where you belong. Our Mother calls you to her side once more. It was a great honor to have you with me, even for so short a time." He touched his forehead and bowed to Alisanne, then repeated the gesture to me; then he planted the torch in a wall sconce before fading into the darkness.


    "Is he...?" I asked, surprised. "Yes. No. It is something else... But we don''t have much time. Follow me, Elsie!" my mother replied. I rose still dizzy from the marble altar where they had placed me and followed Alisanne to a dark alcove. There Alisanne lit a candle which she placed in a holder and I could see that the alcove housed an impressive bronze sarcophagus positioned vertically. Alisanne gently pressed my shoulder and asked me to kneel before the sarcophagus then she recited the tenets one by one and had me repeat them after her. Finally, I swore to adhere to them strictly and then mother lifted me up and said "Let''s go, Elsie. Everything is ready. And receive this gift from me." She opened the leather box from which she took out a dagger with simple craftsmanship and a bone handle. "It''s a faithful weapon, I want it to serve you as well as it did with me," she said, handing it to me. I took the dagger and ran my finger lightly along the blade and, despite the care with which I handled it, I cut myself lightly. Blood began to flow, far too much for a scratch, and I felt the air start to pulse in a slow but powerful rhythm and my ears began to ache. Around us a smell of decay began to spread increasingly and, as Alisanne suddenly stopped, I felt an indescribable feeling of fear. Perhaps fear is not the right term; it was truly a primal, cold, sharp horror, so awful that I began to tremble uncontrollably and sweat profusely. I froze in place and Alisanne, who was looking at me in amazement, suddenly fell to her knees and began to bleed heavily from her nose and mouth. Her eyes widened immensely and, in their boundless depths, I glimpsed for the first time what I now believe to be the Void. My mother groaned and, as tears streamed from her eyes, she said with a trembling voice "Kneel beside me my dear, our mother commands a communion of blood." I crouched helplessly beside Alisanne who, with a trembling hand, took the dagger from me and made a deep cut on her forehead. "Drink, my dear, and forgive me if you can!" she said, moaning. I lovingly and respectfully kissed my mother''s wound, partaking of her vital fluid, and then I saw it.


    I saw HER, as she stood so calm and cold in her grand sarcophagus, looking at me attentively and, as I felt then, with love. I thought I saw compassion in our Mother''s eyes and I began to tremble uncontrollably and moan helplessly as the sarcophagus suddenly vanished and around our Mother started to float the Void,as strange and alien It could be. I cannot really describe what I experienced then, I have no comparison terms in our world, but I can tell you that after I experienced a profound dark, a dark full of dust, I glimpsed green fields crossed by rivers and streams of gold and silver. I say fields and rivers or streams but they were all twisted there, there was nothing like in our world! Tied together with numerous strings, the strange plains were populated by countless entities that seemed dead or asleep for none of them moved. Far away, somewhere above me, there was a constant and disturbing roar and a hot air current rose towards what, in the absence of another name, I shall call the sky. Ah, unimaginable horror, there was something like a grinding machine and the maelstrom began to draw me into its hot fluid, to twist me and absorb me, carry me towards that indescribable evil thing!The air around me was becoming hotter, oh, I felt like my whole skin started to burn and an intense pain overwhelmed me! And horror, so much fear that my mind started to melt over the terror and pain!


    And then I saw how the entire horizon suddenly turned into a pure blue, like the sky on some clear days of an early autumn, and that blue enveloped me while in the distance strange and white beings could be seen, trembling and hastening through the beautiful azure. Then I heard His voice, wrathful and uttering incomprehensible words, and then there was a deafening reverberation, as if an enormous bell had rung once from a faraway place, its tolling shaking everything around me. And then, nothing... I suppose I fainted.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I was in my mother''s arms and she looked me straight in the eyes while shaking me gently. We were both lying in a pool of blood while around us a bitter wind whipped over us and the floor of the cavity undulated and shook. A terrible dizziness clouded my mind and the ancient columns groaned deeply as they swayed under the tremendous pressure of the ceiling where long fissures had appeared. The air continued to pulsate at that unbearable rhythm for me and around us shadows trembled and disappeared; unknown shadows and some rather familiar ones that whispered in voices I couldn''t quite understand, but some... some felt like echoes of the past; I clearly glimpsed at some point the reproachful face of my beloved mother, Shaira. She looked at me for a quite long time, shook her head sadly and then disappeared. And then, the underground tremors ceased and the air gradually returned to its initial condition, the shadows vanished but the dust continued to sift incessantly over us. I turned to Alisanne and noticed that she was looking at me attentively and circumspectly. Her face, drenched in blood, her cold and severe eyes, frightened me and I tried to hold her tighter in my arms, to hide my face against her chest. But Alisanne pushed me away and, as she looked me in the eyes, she asked "What did Mother tell you?". "Nothing" I replied weakly. "As your Listener, I command you to tell me the truth" she hissed. Her voice cracked as she demanded the truth, but I felt the weight of her question like a boulder pressing down on me. "Nothing, she just looked me straight in the eyes..." I replied. "What did you see then, what did you hear?! I command you to tell me everything!" Alisanne shouted as she stood up. "Oh mother, why won''t you believe me? She didn''t speak to me, just stared at me but, instead, I heard His voice without understanding what he was saying." Alisanne trembled; she suddenly lifted me up and whispered "You claim you heard Sithis? Nonsense, Elsie! And I think you''re badly injured; you look different..." Alisanne said and I saw her eyes soften and her hand holding the dagger against my chest slowly lowered. "Do you want to kill me, mother?" I asked with a trembling voice and Alisanne suddenly burst into sobs, hugged me and whimpered weakly "Yes, Elsie, I would like to kill you so much! But I can''t... Come!"


    She dragged me through the dusty and tattered cavity; we ran together, stumbling through the narrow and damp tunnel and soon we were back in the basement of our home. Leo, who was waiting for us there, looked at us for a moment and, while its fur started to bristle, groaned almost humanly and then it darted quickly up the stairs with its tail between his legs. Alisanne continued to pull me hurriedly after her and when we reached the receiving hall she looked at me for a long time, hesitated for a moment, and then handed me the dagger. Then she took a robe from a hanger and threw it at me.


    -Leave now, Elsie! Never come back here!


    She whispered.


    -No Alisanne, don''t ask me to do this! I won''t run away again! Regardless of what will happen I''ll stay here with you, my beloved sister!


    I said but Alisanne grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me fiercely, looking at me with ire in her eyes:


    -You don''t understand, do you?


    I starred at her consumed by fear and confusion; her eyes pierced through me, searching for an understanding that they couldn''t find; I couldn''t grasp her anger toward me... After all, I had done everything exactly as she had commanded! And the fact that her moods hovered between fury and weakness only puzzled me further: this was not the strong and determined Alisanne I knew! Her hands trembled, but they gripped my shoulders more and more tightly; the air seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, and I could actually feel the mixture of dread and fear that was overwhelming my mother. Her eyes had begun to grow emptier, as if Alisanne was starting to sink irreversibly into the world of madness... And then, I heard her voice again, hissing and pitifully weak:


    -You''ll kill me if I allow you to stay here, with me! Mother did a terrible thing today! Leave now!


    Instantly, she started to tremble, her fury melting into despair; my mother whimpered and hugged me. I clung to her, holding her as tightly as I could. Then, swallowing my sorrow, I rushed out the door...


    Leo, who was lying next to the entrance, groaned again when it saw me and ran into the dense bushes near the fence. I ran towards the gate which, strangely, was open while the old gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen... It was extremely hot outside, an unbearable heat that made the air seem solid and all the grass in the yard was withered and the old sycamore tree near the house seemed split by lightning! And the sky... oh, it had the color of freshly splintered steel, full of streaks of strange shapes; it looked like an entire nest of snakes had settled in the sky, which now seemed so low!


    Lucien wasn''t there so I hurried out onto the street and there I felt a profound emptiness in me; most of the buildings nearby had strange shapes, they seemed twisted and, where there were the usual right angles, now there were unsettling curves of shapes so alien that all seemed to be strange edifices from another world. And the windows, the windows were empty and dark and something seemed to be stirring inside and eyes, strange and bright eyes, seemed to look at me from the shadows... Like in a dream, I walked towards one of the openings that were once doors and I intended to go inside, check the strange blue cobweb that clung to the doorway, pulsating slightly...


    Right then, slithering agilely along the wall, Lucien appeared in front of me, smiling as he handed me a pair of shoes. I put them on hastily, eager to head towards the Temple of Mara but Lucien shook his head and gestured for me to follow him. He led me towards the Temple but through the narrowest and most winding alleys, sometimes descending even on the stone curb that bordered the canal, avoiding the groups of people and constantly seeking shade. In the immediate vicinity of the temple he left me under an abandoned awning and returned after a while with Elena. I saw her trembling, her face shifting- she, the imperturbable Elena, changed the moment she laid eyes on me. "So it''s happening again, this is the Sign!" she said, looking directly at me. Lucien smiled once more, approached her, and pressed his forehead against hers for a few moments before leaving without haste, slipping past the contorted walls. Elena quickly removed her hood and said to me, " So, She took you on a stroll around Her realm, and you glanced over the fence. I''m surprised you''re still alive! But now, just take this and cover your face as much as possible. Follow me!"


    We both ran towards the Temple of Mara and mingled with the crowd of pilgrims and locals who were walking- some of them laboriously and slowly, others running frantically- towards the grand portal. The narrow streets of the city were crowded and the wide square in front of the temple was packed with people kneeling or walking slowly, weaving through the mass of bodies. The sky looked strange, it had a violet hue now, as I had never seen on hot summer days when the sky is usually washed out, of such a pale blue. The Sun was nowhere to be seen or at least I couldn''t find it and the air trembled playfully, creating merry or sad ghosts. Many people cried and complained, others embraced each other trying to console themselves; there was great turmoil in the city! In front of the temple was a free area and, when we stepped there, detaching ourselves from the compact and mournful mass, I saw that the pavement was full of birds, birds of all kinds that lived in the area, birds lying on the ground! Some were flapping frantically, others were motionless but not dead because I saw their round, frightened eyes following my movements. In front of the great and closed gates was a compact mass of Mara''s priests and acolytes all gripping wooden bats. We both stopped in front of the human wall and Elena whispered something to one of them at which he headed towards the gates and entered the temple through a small door contained within the grand portal. Shortly after, he came out accompanied by an impressive figure, a tall and sturdy old man, dressed in the festive robes of Mara''s priests. At his signal a narrow corridor opened in the crowd of Mara''s servants, through which we could step and enter the temple.


    Inside, the chill was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the scorching heat outside. The air, heavy with the thick smoke of burning spices rising from massive silver vessels, nearly choked me; I was feeling very tired and sick. I leaned on Elena who stopped, grabbed my arm tightly and looked straight into my eyes; terror seized me again¡ªfor in her eyes, the Void stared back at me. I collapsed to my knees on the glossy floor and then strange words came out of my mouth at first and then some intelligible ones, of which I only remembered: "Your world is unstable now and the balance must be restored. At any cost! Elena, you know what you have to do, do not delay and finish what was started! Right now! Pyrokar, take care of Elsie! Keep her in secrecy and safety, finish her initiation into My cult! Calm the people of Bravil, send them home! And then wait, all of you wait!" I''m not really sure about these words but I still recall with clarity that voice; it was not mine, that was a commanding voice, a sultry and, at the same time, a sweet voice; a very insidious voice it was, one which can easily turn the harshest men into mere puppies; or the doves into poisonous snakes...


    Then they both lifted me to my feet, Elena and Pyrokar, the venerable High Priest of Mara who I meet years ago in the Goddess'' glade from Arboretum, and led me into a room in one of the temple towers and laid me on a bed. Then Elena gently took my hand and said, "I''m leaving you now, Elsie, and we surely won''t meet again. Not in this world, anyway... I wish you to be happy, but I fear you won''t have the life of the ordinary people! You can trust Pyrokar completely and don''t try to leave the Temple until he allows you to do that! Oh, and keep my hood; it will help you think of me from time to time!" She smiled slightly and in her eyes I could see tenderness and not the terror from before; then she turned to Pyrokar: "Farewell old friend! You should know that the Brotherhood no longer exists; Our Lady has dissolved the old oaths and there is no Listener in this world anymore. But initiate Elsie exactly as you would any other disciple and, above all, don''t forget the dagger! This is the Lucky Dagger and someone must bleed on it in the hand of the new owner as fast as possible." "I bled myself on it... My mother''s blood is also on its blade." I whispered then. "Ah, amazing!" Elena exclaimed in ecstasy. "Then it drank its fill and I would say that the past, as wicked as it was, and the future, so unknown but fresh anyway, met for a moment in Eternity!" she continued. "Tell me Elsie, do you love Alisanne?" she asked while looking at the dagger. "Yes, with all my heart, Elena," I replied. "Then mourn her for a while and remember only your beautiful moments over time!" Elena sighed, leaned down and kissed me on the lips for a long time and then she left the room in a swirl of her cloak. Pyrokar nodded slightly and left too, gently closing the door behind him.


    And then, I was alone. Perhaps not for long, or maybe an eternity¡ªI cannot tell; all that I can remember is that I spent a lot of time during this period in Nocturnal''s realm and tried my hardest to talk to my Mistress. Yet, though I felt Her presence constantly¡ªso close, so deep within me¡ªShe would not, or could not, answer my questions. When sleep caught me in my little house in Evergloam- ah, I hate this name, it is so beautiful there- I often felt my Mistress caressing me and playing with my hair. But that was all.


    Pyrokar initiated me into the secrets of the Mephala disciples but I won''t say anything about it here and now. The Queen of Oblivion is vengeful, and not even Nocturnal¡ªespecially Nocturnal, for love binds these two enchanting devils¡ªcould shield me from Her wrath! In my small drawer, in my daddy''s house in Whiterun, lies a sealed envelope containing everything. The seal has been broken and clumsily resealed¡ªah, my nosy daddy! But perhaps that''s just love... Perhaps he loves me more than anyone ever has or ever will! I love him dearly in return and I fear for him because all those who have had strong feelings of love for me have left this world! All, except my beloved Courtney. But there is still time for that... She is starting to fade, to grow reckless...


    After a period of dreaming and contemplation the old priest came to me and said "Elsie, your time here has ended. So, you may leave whenever you wish, but from that moment on, I can do nothing more for you. Our Mother wishes for you to be free, unshackled. She wants you to taste, even if just for a while, the true life of Her city. I wish you luck!" he said. "Wait a moment, please, Reverend," I said, looking him in the eyes. "My mother...?" "Our esteemed Alisanne is gone, my lady." he replied. "Ah... And Elena? Where can I find her?" I asked, perhaps with a flicker of hatred in my eyes. Pyrokar saw that and smiled, a bitter smile. "Elena...Elena was not..." the old man sighed lightly and stopped for a moment. "Elena is spent, my lady. She lies now at the very foundation of our restored world. Sometimes, you may find her in the howl of the wind or in the falling rain... Just listen closely." Pyrokar said, kissing my hand very ceremoniously before leaving the room. I left my shelter right then and outside, right next to the door, I found a large sack. I opened it and inside I found my clothes, the crossbow bestowed upon me by Alisanne and my mother''s cult book; all my jewels too. I returned to my former room, changed, and then, with my large baggage, stepped out into the square in front of the Temple of Mara. A golden, fragrant autumn day draped itself over the old city.


    "Now to find Rasha" I said aloud and I laughed. Oh, Her city was all mine for the taking!

 Chapter 14

    I didn''t find Rasha, and the innkeeper told me that he hadn''t hosted anyone like my brother in recent years. I wasn''t too surprised considering what I had heard from Elena but I started to worry because I knew that Rasha had been so close to Alisanne. Not too much though, because in those days Rasha still seemed as strong and intelligent as a god to me; ah, actually as a god should be! Now, however, I know enough about our gods not to consider them as models in these regard... I rented a room in the same hostel and the owner, seeing my clothes and my large baggage, didn''t ask for payment in advance. Ah, that was indeed a relief, the reality is that I was very poor, there wasn''t even a single septim in my little pockets!


    Then I went out into the bustling streets of the port district and, as I strolled leisurely, pondering how to proceed to find the Guild of my Mistress''s disciples, I borrowed some money from various unsuspecting individuals who were gaping at the tricks of a group of acrobats advertising a nearby circus. The harbor district was just as lively as before, teeming with people of all sorts and kinds. Traveling merchants from the south loudly praised their goods and bargaining with them was a real pleasure; generally, when they asked for twenty septims for an item, you could be sure they''d sell it for less than five! I entered a blacksmith''s shop and bought a hunting knife with two edges, short and with a very solid blade. I found a secluded corner and strapped its sheath around my left leg, then I stepped confidently and cheerfully towards the entertainment area of the port, full of taverns, pubs, and other such establishments. I had a meal on the terrace of a place where the docks were clearly visible. Ah, I will never forget the taste and especially the scent of the fish fried in oil from Bravil! Nor the beer, so bitter and tasty, produced here! Lost in thought, I remained in front of my tankard, watching as a bulky ship with most of its sails torn and tattered entered the port.


    An entire crowd of people hurried towards the docks, merchants with their servants, customs officers and dockworkers while a bunch of urchins stumbled among their legs. Quite amused, I clearly saw that at least one of these ragged and mischievous children was pickpocketing some of those hurrying to the berth. And he did so in collaboration with two other kids who kept stumbling among people''s legs, pretending to be stupid and helpless. I moved to a free table right at the edge of the terrace and began to carefully observe the movements of the three children. They operated in perfect cooperation and the pretenses of the two assistants were worthy of famous actors. One of them, with crooked legs and huge warts on his face, cried incessantly and continuously begged, cheekily extending his dirty tray towards the faces of the people who were meanwhile tripping over the third one who stumbled among their legs... It''s sad and yet so funny that the impudent one''s tray was full, especially of food and fruits. And meanwhile, the group leader skillfully worked the pockets of everyone around. Suddenly, after the ship had already docked and the gangplanks were being set up, a man in the crowd started to agitate and shout "Thieves! They stole my purse!" and immediately after that, a bigger brat entered in a hurry into the crowd and apparently started to beat up the pickpocket, throwing him to the ground and slapping him. The other two urchins started to scream horribly and bolted through the crowd while the two protagonists tumbled together in the dust of the old port.


    When I saw this, I got up, hastily paid for my meal and dashed towards the scene of the fight. Which ended very quickly as the people around intervened, slapping the so-called attacker and trying to help the fake victim. I burst into uncontrollable laughter and almost lost the bigger urchin, the so called aggressor, who was now running very fast, easily breaking away from the angry crowd. But not fast enough to escape from me, as I caught up with him in a narrow alley and grabbed him by the rags he was wearing. He stopped instantly and turned towards me with a snake-like swiftness and, in his hand, I saw gleaming a thin and serrated blade. I seized his hand and, while holding him by the throat with the other hand, I twisted it until the blade fell. I slapped him until his nose bled, and then, after I knocked him to the ground and immobilized him, I drew a beautiful reddish line on his face with one of my claws. I then loosened the grip around his throat as he began to roll his eyes and, smiling sweetly, I politely asked him to take me to his gang leader. He grimaced and began to squirm but I drew another memory on his face and then announced that I would kill him if he didn''t do as I said. I looked him in the eye and saw him yielding to the power of my smile so, after a few moments, we strolled hand in hand like two good friends through the alleys of Bravil.


    He led me to one of those places which are politely called "dance halls" in Bravil and there I met for the first time my dear friend Courtney who was busy serving drinks at the lounge tables. When she saw us, she passed the tray to a colleague and signaled us to follow her. Together we entered one of the usual rooms in such a place and there she stopped, looking at us questioningly and worried. I released the urchin then and said to the girl "I''m looking for Rashid." Her eyes widened- ah, Courtney is very cute when she does that!- and smiling, she pushed the brat out of the room. Of course, I must not forget to mention that she did this only after she received all the money collected by the scoundrel from the little "performers". Then, while turning to me, she said "Show us yer nails, luv, would ya?" to which I exposed the terrible claws from my left hand and waved them in front of her eyes. She started laughing, a melodious and pleasant laughter, looked me in the eyes and said "So, the little Princess is ''ere. Golden hair, a li''l dolly, all sweet an'' cute and bleedin'' beastly claws! An'' on the ''unt for Rashid! Oh, I''ll be makin'' meself a nice bag o'' coin fer this! So, luv, do us a favor an'' ''ave a bevvy wiv me. My shout!"


    "Can you speak more clearly? I don''t really understand what you''re saying..." I said. "Nah luv, that ain''t ''appenin''!" she laughed again and took my hand, dragging me after her.


    Then she took me to the dancing lounge and we sat together at one of the elegant tables with exquisite lamps, and the owner herself hurried over and looked at Courtney questioningly. She emitted her crystalline laughter again and said "Nadia, come ''ere an'' sit wiv us, once in a bleedin'' blue moon, birds like us get ter meet a Nightingale, innit!" The owner''s eyes widened in surprise and she said "But I already saw one in my life, Courtney!" "It don'' matta, you''ll see anuvver one right now!" Courtney said and then Nadia sat down and called one of the girls, ordering snacks and drinks. "On the house!" she said, adding "Courtney, you''re off today and, if the honored Nightingale wants you as a guide and companion in Bravil, you''re at her disposal." "If Courtney wants..." I added, smiling. "Too right, kitten!" she replied with another burst of laughter. My expression darkened a bit and I said softly "Kitten... It''s been a long time since someone called me that." Courtney looked at me seriously and lovingly at the same time. "So not kitten! Then maybe esteemed and respected Nightingale?" and here the ice broke between us and we laughed all cheerfully and then we feasted together until evening. Ah, from the bitter beer of Bravil to the sweetest and most deceptive liqueurs of the Summerset Isles, with a mandatory stop through the sour and delicious wines of Elsweyr, all the known and unknown drinks of Nirn passed on our table! And the candied almonds together with the strange eggs of rare reptiles from Black Marsh, the exotic and very large nuts from Valenwood, and many, many others! But the delight, at least for me, was the hearty sweet roll from Skyrim! You see, the blood speaks and demands and vague memories from my distant childhood, so far away that it seemed like the fabulous tale of a strange being who once lived, long ago, in distant and strange lands, made me ask for horker stew, and Nadia looked at me with teary and kind eyes and said "It''s been a long time since another Nightingale, another young blonde, asked us for such a thing! But, as then, I will apologize and regret to say that we cannot prepare such a thing here! The shores of the Sea of Ghosts are so distant, especially now!" And then I found out that another war, a strange one, between brothers, was raging in the region of the North, far away, beyond the Jerall Mountains.


    But the evening came and as the place filled with well-dressed and well mannered people, the variety show began and the girls, dressed so temptingly and cute, performed dances of a strange and wild beauty to the music ranging from nostalgia and melody to the violent and yet harmonic tunes of Hammerfell. At one point, Courtney got up from the table despite Nadia''s protests, ran upstairs, and returned in a blink of an eye appropriately dressed and took her place among the dancers on the stage where she seemed to be the lead dancer. Let''s just say that from that moment on, the performance became divine, and the orchestra, propelled by the impressive presence of the soloist on stage, released chords of a rare perfection. My soul vibrated, cried and laughed then and I knew right away that Courtney, this tavern girl, would be one of my best and closest friends! After midnight, the show ended and we said goodbye to Nadia, who was sometimes happy, sometimes sad, and we happily headed to my hostel. The boy behind the counter started to protest when he saw Courtney climbing the stairs with me and then we turned back, went to him, and, as I sweetly looked at him, I grabbed a button and pulled him towards me. I kissed him and looked into his eyes for a while and the boy softened and looked back at me and Courtney laughed again with her so dear for me laughter! Later, I found out that she had used this opportunity to collect the silver bell from the reception counter and the whole set of spare keys hanging on a nail under the same counter... Of course, I took them in the midst of her laughter and returned them to the boy who, down there, was terribly sad and anxious to see them missing.


    We woke up very late and after consuming almost all the hostel''s ice cream, we set off to the residence where I was supposed to meet Rashid. But Courtney was still dressed in her dancer costume because my clothes didn''t fit her, she being a tall and sturdy girl. People were turning their heads as we walked down the street, so we entered a shop and she bought clothes and a pair of shoes. Our short walk through Bravil which was washed by the rain during the night and still smelling fresh with its coolness, was very pleasant because Courtney is a wonderful girl, very cheerful and full of joy and jokes. But she also has a sharp tongue and is very cheeky at times, sometimes picking fights with people on the street, sometimes even insulting them directly! She''s a true daughter of the South, a girl who grew up without parents in the midst of the noisy and ragged gangs of Bravil''s urchins. But that day she was exceptionally happy and kept telling me about the reward she was going to receive from the Godfather. "So, Courtney, you weren''t entirely alone in the world! You have a godfather and he seems to be a wealthy man..." I said, to which she giggled and replied, "Ah, ain''t just me Godfather, is it? ''E''s our Godfather, the lot of us, includin'' you an'' all, I s''pose, tho'' me li''l nose tells me summat''s up!" and she twitched her funny little nose in such a funny way that I couldn''t help it, and tiptoeing, I kissed her right there, in the middle of the crowd.


    We arrived at the Godfather''s villa and inside we were greeted by a very solid and tall individual, with a terrible scar on his sinister face. Courtney addressed him familiarly and unabashedly: "Brassius, this ''un ''ere''s the Nightingale our Godfather''s been waitin'' on fer years." To which he stepped aside and let us pass, but just as we stepped on the stairs, he suddenly grabbed my left leg, exactly where my knife was. He then grabbed my arm with a hand that seemed to crush my joints and grinned at me: "The knife stays with me, Nightingale!" Lightning-fast, I scratched him deeply and, surprised, he let go, and I ran up the stairs. After a short moment of surprise, the brute recovered and rushed after me. Courtney tried to get in his way but he pushed her aside with a single movement of his shoulder and in the blink of an eye he was beside me, up, at the top of the stairs. I waited for him calmly with the knife in my hand and, when he reached me, I looked him straight in the eyes, which were like the eyes of a dead fish. "Stay where you are, brother, or I''ll kill you," I said sweetly, to which he unfolded an enormous chain he wore around his waist and grinned "Let''s dance, Princess." But Courtney started screaming at the top of her lungs, so a door opened, and a young blond man with a delicate appearance came out into the long and spacious hallway and said "What''s going on here? Courtney, when will you stop your antics? Are you drunk again?". "Yer the bloody pissed bloke an'' a berk, Tom!!" she screamed hysterically. "Yer villainous monster, Lucas the gorilla, wants ter kill the Nightingale! An'' ''e gave me a right beating; now I ain''t gonna work fer a long time, an'' I ain''t gonna work fer you swines neither!" and she started cursing wildly, with a voice so loud that my ears started ringing. An elderly man, solid and with a very expressive face, emanating calm and strength, who had come out into the hallway behind Thomas, raised his hand slightly and, seeming bored, said, "Leave them alone, Lucas, please! Courtney, why are you disturbing the peace of this place? And who are you?" "She''s on the hunt fer Rashid, her name''s Elsie, innit? An'' she''s got bleedin'' beastly claws! Found ''er, Godfather, I ''ave!" Courtney said proudly. The old man smiled slightly and came towards me. He looked me straight in the eyes and I returned his gaze, sharp and very calm, to which he smiled slightly melancholically and said "She is! She''s her daughter... What''s your mother''s name, little lady?" "Shaira" I replied without hesitation. "Shaira? From the Imperial City?" he replied, looking at me surprised. "Yes, gramps, her, even her, may her soul rest in peace" I said. "Gramps?" he laughed heartily. "I''m already starting to like you, little one! Though, the name is Vito.But it would really please me to be your Godfather! And I''m not talking about Shaira here; I''m talking about the mother who gave birth to you." "Ah, her name was Kiersten" I sighed and tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes. "Yes, Kiersten, the last Nightingale who visited us before you, Elsie. Come with me, please," he said softly. "You too, Courtney, and you, Thomas, go and tell them to bring pastries for the girls" he added. "An'' some bleedin'' sweet wine fer me, Thomas!" Courtney cackled excitedly. "Just a little beer, Thomas, please," the Godfather replied with a smile.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Inside, he sat back behind his enormous desk and invited Courtney and me to sit in the armchairs in front of him. Courtney leaned over and placed a bag on the table, saying to him, "Yesterday''s takin''s, from the ''arbor, Godfather." and she smiled sweetly, coquettishly, but he frowned at her, so she quickly sank into her armchair. "So, Elsie, what can I do for you? We''ve been expecting you for years but I have the feeling that you found a much more welcoming host than us back then." "I''m looking for my brother Rasha" I said. "Rasha, the eldest son of Shaira and Alisanne''s right hand, so to speak. He left the city some time ago, right after Alisanne''s death" the Godfather said thoughtfully, looking straight into my eyes. "He was wounded and my men helped him sneak out of the city with a huge crate they loaded onto a cart. Then he headed north, on the Green Road, and one of my boys accompanied him. But he never returned, so I assume that your beloved brother preferred to erase all traces... As you all do in your brotherhood, my dear!" he added with a slight smile. "That''s all I can tell you about him; our contacts with the North have been cut off for over a year and we don''t know much about what''s happening there now." "So, I''ll go north then" I said. "I advise you to wait; the Green Road is more unsafe than ever and even the forests nearby are scoured by bands from the Altmer''s army. The river is also patrolled by elvish boats. And then, the North is vast. So many possibilities! Stay here for a while; we may receive news from our brothers in the Imperial City in the meantime!" "I''ll stay for a while then, Godfather. Can I keep Courtney with me? She can show me the city, teach me your ways?" "Of course, if you wish! And only if Nadia can do without her, I know Courtney is needed in her establishment." "Ov course Nadia can, right, she told me yestaday she couldn''t stand me no more an'' it''d do me good ter disappear fer a bit!" Courtney cackled very pleased by herself. "An'' besides, the Nightingale''s so tiny; someone''s gotta look after ''er in this wretched city!" "It''s settled then! But to be honest, Courtney, I don''t think Elsie needs your protection!" "We can even not deprive Madame Nadia of her services; I want to work there with her girls, Godfather!" I said. "Are you sure about this, Elsie? Maybe you don''t know very well what they do there, and if you want to work and learn our ways, you could work with my son Thomas." the old man said. "What does Thomas do?" "Ah, financial investments here in Bravil, contacts with the judges and the militia as well" he smiled. "Boring..." I sighed. "Or with my son Sonny; he manages much more interesting businesses here. Although I don''t know if you''ll get along well with him!" "No Godfather, please allow me to work at Nadia''s place, at least for a while!" "Of course" he sighed and added, "You can live here, with me and my family if you want." "Thank you so much Godfather, but I have a residence in the port area and I truly love the surroundings." "As you wish, Elsie! Give your address to Thomas; we''ll keep an eye on you" he then got up, circled the desk and kissed me on the cheek and then, after slapping Courtney''s bottom, who screamed delightedly, he opened the door for us and, smiling slightly, said, "I expect more and faster from your team on the docks, Courtney!"


    We both went out onto the street very cheerful after Courtney grinned in front of Lucas and we went to Nadia''s place which welcomed us very warmly. I lived there one of the happiest periods of my life so far; the girls were so friendly and Courtney quickly became my best friend, a friend and mentor at the same time. Nadia treated all of us very nicely; I think she even loved us a bit because beneath her appearance as a tough nightclub owner I''m pretty sure there was hiding a mother''s heart! They taught me very interesting things and there I learned the specific jargon of the Guild, the recognition signs and the specific hierarchy. But the Bravil Guild had deviated a lot from the traditional path; it was more like a bank and, as the strangest and at the same time unpleasant matter in my opinion, they never stole from the rich, exactly from where they could have! On the contrary, they mercilessly preyed on the poor, hardworking people, and small shopkeepers both from Bravil and those who came here from all corners of the world to do business in this city of contrasts! They also used to lend money with interest, and they were ruthless in enforcing debts from the poor debtors but very lenient with skooma traffickers who had an almost legal branch in Bravil. Because you see, friends, in Bravil it is legal to buy or sell such a dangerous and yet attractive liquor in certain places, but it is not allowed to possess it! Which is ridiculous because the city guard is not allowed to search you! I can''t help but laugh now but also feel angry when I remember all those strange laws from Bravil, a city where, rather than elsewhere, the rich became even richer and the poor even poorer!


    Courtney and I were thrown in jail based on one such law... Our occupation was not prohibited in the gleaming yet so musty city, but any time, a woman without relatives and especially unmarried, could be accused of indecency based on simple testimonies. And female indecency was severely punished in this Southern city with quite long sentences in the detestable prison of Bravil! Another oddity was this so damp and dark dungeon where quite a few women spent a part of their lives! The usual food and sleeping places there were indeed products of a nightmare but you were allowed to buy food from wherever you wanted in the city, and again, I burst into laughter and indignation, you could even buy furloughs! At exorbitant prices, of course, but it was so amusing to see those so ill- intentioned guards rushing with trays full of steaming and succulent food! I must add here that Courtney felt particularly good in jail; she had a lot of friends there and, above all, she enjoyed fighting fiercely with other poor women who were locked up there... However, I didn''t enjoy all these amusements and I even felt guilty eating goodies under the hungry eyes of the less privileged detainees... Courtney and some of her friends even started a small skooma trade there in prison, under the indulgent eyes of the female guards! And, as usual, the main consumers were those poor women who watched us with envy while we were sitting at the table! These aspects of prison life saddened me and I even cooled off from Courtney for a while, starting to stay away from her and not to talk to her or her friends anymore. And then, after a short time while she tried to preach her dirty trade to me, Courtney gave up her little business and we became friends again. But I can tell you that she still reproaches me to this day, half jokingly, half seriously, for depriving her of the opportunity to get rich! Still, we both laugh and embrace warmly when we remember those days when we were still so innocent; our wave of crimes and wrongdoings was far from beginning...


    Ah, the great city lived and fully breathed in those dreadful days, so different from the rest of Cyrodiil. The city''s dignitaries had the wisdom to declare the city''s independence when the elves began to advance from the south, from the direction of the recently conquered Leyawiin, and they paid sacks full of gold to the Altmer leaders to pass through without hindrance! They even agreed on a monthly tribute to be paid from then by the City to the Dominion. Me and Courtney continued our merry and quite eventful life; we were only severely scolded from time to time by the Godfather for stealing from our rich clients and I''m sure that he had something to do with our putting behind bars... I even received my team of urchins whom I was supposed to teach and lead but given my past experience when the urchins from the Imperial City never accepted me among them, this occupation did not appeal to me and I soon gave it up under the Godfather''s benevolent gaze. We used to have meals with him and his family on the holidays which are so frequent in Bravil and I can say that he had an exemplary family, the only one who was more untamed and violent among them being Sonny, the eldest son. Ah, these eldest sons often have a peculiar way of behaving, and that reminded me of Rasha, and then I would become sad and wonder if he was still alive. No news came from the other Guilds from Cyrodiil, and time passed, and I had become so accustomed to the life I led that all the strange occurrences before seemed like a distant dream... But sometimes I used to go with my beloved Courtney to the Temple of Mara and there she would light black candles under a certain statue of the goddess, and then I would feel strange and pleasant shivers in my soul again. Courtney claimed that Mara, our beloved Mother as she called her, spoke to her in those moments, advised her, and promised to protect her... But now we both know better which aspect of Mephala was the one whispering sweet things to us! And so, our life went smoothly and without shortages for a while that passed like a moment, a joyful moment in our tumultuous life!


    But the day of reckoning came when the powerful structure of the skooma traffickers from Elsweyr decided to take control of all operations in Bravil... And I''m sure my Mistress was involved here even though she doesn''t want to admit it; ah, I don''t believe there are greater liars in Oblivion than Nocturnal and Mephala! They are sick entities in this regard and Nocturnal is rather often very pleased to apply the perverse methods of the Queen. Street battles in which the City Guard did not intervene shook Bravil for weeks and the Godfather and his entire family perished during this time, and the two of us, who had fought alongside their few faithful followers, decided to flee from the City where there was almost nothing left for us now! Nadia had also died and her saloon had been looted and set on fire so there was nothing holding us there, in that wonderful and so dangerous city...


    So, in the dead of night, we left Bravil by the boat of a smuggler who dropped us off somewhere on the southern shore of Lake Rumare just at dawn. And since I remembered with crystal clarity that distant day when Cicero, Rasha''s blood brother, had told me that if I needed support to seek him out at a certain alchemist''s, we both set out on the road to Cheydinhal, avoiding the Altmer patrols as much as possible, because the Imperial City, the king of cities from Nirn, was under siege, and from where once only fireworks and merry party rumors erupted, now only thick black smoke emerged and only the dry, regular sounds of catapult projectiles striking the mighty walls could be heard...

 Chapter 15

    Our journey to Cheydinhal was much longer and more difficult than I had anticipated, following the study of a map I had purchased from an antiquarian in Bravil. Both of us knew that war haunted the lands of Cyrodiil, but until then, we had not known nor could we imagine what a country might look like during a war that had lasted for years.


    The confrontations between elves and humans were sometimes interrupted by necessary periods for the troops to recover from battles or by ceasefires during which sterile and endless negotiations were conducted, it is true. Still, these relatively short respites were insufficient for even the partial healing of the gravely wounded lands. The ancient forests that once lined the southern shore of Lake Rumare had been devastated and cut down for the construction of siege equipment and the countless rafts that transported fresh troops to the endless slaughter beneath the city walls. The villages and inns that had once dotted the rich fields and roads around the city were now only charred ruins, filled with corpses or skeletons grinning their empty eyes towards the sky, so clear and unforgiving at the same time. And the crows and the ravens, these harbingers and consequential witnesses of the war, were everywhere in the sorrowful surroundings of the Imperial City! Larger than in peaceful times, the crows filled the air with their black wings and their joyful or narky cawing... Ah, they are very wise birds and especially the ravens could tell a lot about the deeds of mortal beings in wartime! But friends, please, you better not listen to what they say, it could astonish and terrify you, gravely diminishing the faith in your brethren'' good will!


    We couldn''t think of starting our journey just as the daylight began to reveal everything moving across the barren, desolate plain, so we sought shelter as best we could under the banks of the River Niben and attempted to sleep. Despite the continuous din of the siege, we managed to rest fairly well until evening; after all, both of us were exhausted from the harrowing street battles we had engaged in at Bravil. And our souls were deeply wounded, for we had lost far too many friends; also, as soon as we emerged from the shadow of its walls, Her Holy City began to haunt us¡ªwhispering, calling, pulling us back into its rousing embrace. We ached for it, as one aches for a lost paradise, for a forbidden vice that one cannot live without...


    By evening, after we had eaten and darkness began to envelop the surroundings, we set out on our arduous and perilous journey to Cheydinhal. Courtney was quite optimistic and cheerful, but my mind was haunted by fears and uncertainties; I was tormented by the thought that we faced so many difficulties and dangers only for a promise made years ago by a man who may not even be alive anymore... But we had no other solution at that moment, nor any other possible refuge. Until Masser rose high in the celestial vault and began to spread its light over the surroundings, we stumbled along the river to the north, but then we advanced much more easily, and by the time the dawns began to take on a rosy hue towards the east, we were very close to where the Blue Road begins its journey through the heart of the Hearthland towards Cheydinhal.


    To my surprise, I found the old ruined fortress from that place repaired by the elves and now teeming with soldiers who were just waking up, hastily preparing for whatever they had to do that day. We abandoned the thought of staying in the shadow of the fortress, knowing well that the daylight would only expose us to dangers; taking advantage of the morning mist, we sneaked past the old walls towards the place where the two roads diverged. We continued on despite the weariness that gnawed at our bodies on the Blue Road, which in this area is quite steep, the unforgiving slope sapping the few strengths we had left. Endless, one after another, the barren clay hills stretched around us, and at that moment we had no slightest idea where we could stop to refresh our strength.


    The sun gradually rose in the sky, dispersing the last shadows of the past night, and before long, along the road from the east, we saw thick clouds of dust rising and heard rumors of voices and the distinctive sounds of hundreds of feet marching rhythmically, kneading the earth. The noises were clearly getting closer, so we hastily left the road and plunged into the barren and steep hills on the right side of the road. We continued our journey very tired, desperately seeking a resting place. But all around us were only the reddish clay slopes of these mounds that dotted the area and the narrow valleys between them were very damp, some of them even holding small swamps that drained our strength. Late towards noon, we arrived at a relatively flat place full of dry reeds rustling in the wind that had been blowing for some time. The place was dry enough and the reeds tall enough to encourage us to take a break there. We stopped and, without daring to light a fire, ate a good portion of the few provisions we had taken with us.


    Ah, what could two city girls know about wilderness life and its hardships!


    We then lay down with the intention of sleeping for a few hours and then continuing our journey towards the area where on our map was drawn a lake that seemed appealing to us at that moment. It didn''t even cross our minds to fill our flask with water from Lake Rumare, and perhaps it was for the best because the lake was in those days teeming with corpses, old and new.


    But when we woke up, the light around us was already diffuse, and the Sun appeared pale and cold through the mist of dusk, far off towards the western horizon! Hunger tormented us, so with a heavy heart from me and joy from Courtney, we almost finished our meager provisions, after which my friend revealed a bottle full of flin. I tried to stop her, but she laughed in my face, saying she was cold and didn''t want to catch a chill. So, in the end, we emptied the bottle together and both felt a little better. But meanwhile, the Sun had set, and the night seemed to promise to be foggy and misty, so we decided not to venture further among the arid mounds and spend the night right where we were. We still didn''t dare to light a fire, and even if we wanted to, there was nothing combustible around except for the reeds, which wouldn''t have been much help. So we lay tightly embraced and wrapped in Courtney''s wide cloak, but luckily for us, during the night, she did exactly as she usually does in such situations. In the time of our sleep, she pulled the entire blanket over herself, and I woke up in the middle of the night shivering with cold and a vague sense of fear in my heart.


    The first thing I spotted was a pair of green, blazing eyes fixed on me while a faint growl assaulted my ears. I jumped to my feet, shouting, and the eyes jerked backward, the growl intensifying into a sort of deep, throaty howl. Courtney was up immediately, lighting the lantern we had brought with us, and what we saw around us froze us with fear. Six wolves had taken a circling position around us, while the seventh, a grayish mongrel, cautiously approached us with the typical prudence of these very wise beasts.


    Initially a bit puzzled by the dim light of the lantern, the leader of the pack resumed its sneaking movement towards us, and I could clearly see it was ready to attack at any moment. The others gradually closed the circle, following their leader. I tried to catch its gaze to attempt to exert my hypnotic power over it, but the beast averted its eyes, peering at me warily. Desperate, I drew my knife, knowing I stood no chance against the seven predators... Courtney was trembling behind me, gripping my shoulders tightly, and at one point, strange sounds came from her mouth, resembling the words of a melodic language, and then one of the six members of the pack halted his advance, whimpering softly, and, with a dreadful howl, lunged at the leader! A fierce battle ensued between the two, the leader completely caught off guard by such an attack, and during this time, the other five stopped in confusion, whimpering softly. I managed to catch the gaze of one of them and, not allowing it to tear its eyes away from mine, I exerted my will. The beast, after a brief resistance, suddenly bolted, whimpering in desperation. Two more followed suit almost immediately, melting into the chilly, foggy night.


    Meanwhile, the leader had managed to kill its opponent but was gravely injured and now approached us almost crawling on his belly. From Courtney''s mouth came again those strange sounds, akin to a peculiar, sad, yet sweet song, and one of the last two members of the pack immediately attacked the other. But then I felt my friend trembling all over, and it didn''t last more than a few moments before, slumping to the ground, she fainted. At that moment, the leader hesitated and attempted to retreat, but as it turned slightly towards me, I threw the knife, severing its throat fatally. Courtney''s wolf won the battle against its opponent and then came crawling and whimpering alongside us.


    The beast laid down beside Courtney, who was just beginning to regain consciousness, and the first thing she saw were the wolf''s blazing green eyes. She started screaming and thrashing, but I tried to calm her down and said, "Stop yelling, Courtney! The beast is now your baby!"


    "What baby? Are you crazy?" she croaked, trembling all over, and the wolf whimpered softly and licked her face! Despite the unpleasant situation we were in, I couldn''t help but burst into laughter when Courtney jumped up like a spring and started running around like mad, screaming... The poor animal was terribly frightened and leaped aside, howling horribly, and I couldn''t hold back my laughter, oh, sometimes the tension built up from great trials is released in the strangest ways... Eventually, all three of us stopped our partially comical and partially insane outbursts. Courtney approached me hesitantly, and I stood there, motionless, waiting by the wolf. It too had settled down, now licking its frightful wounds with slow, deliberate movements. "We won, my dear! You won, actually," I said, embracing her. Courtney was still trembling all over, her body cold as ice, and large tears streamed down her pale, drawn face. And the wolf hadn''t moved. It just watched her, its green eyes glowing. Still gasping, she slowly lifted a hand and, with an uncertain, almost involuntary gesture, touched its rough fur. The wolf remained still, only its tail twitching slightly, and then Courtney whispered, as if to herself, "I... I don''t know what this means..."


    In a weak voice, she continued as she gently stroked my hair, "No, I don''t know how I did it... But I heard stories when I was a child, lurking in corners of taverns, waiting to receive some leftover food from the kitchen. They talked about people who can instantly tame wild beasts, befriend them, and even speak with them in a certain way! But they also talked about beast-men, people who turn into bloody and horrifying creatures when Secunda is in the phase of the full moon. And about centuries-old dead rising from their hiding places when unwelcome guests disturb their ancient dwellings..."


    "I''ve seen the undead with my own eyes, Courtney, and as for the beast-men, I''ve read about them in a book of legends from the distant land of Skyrim! And about the wild beast tamers, they surely exist nowadays and are quite numerous; practically all citizens of Valenwood can do that!"


    "So, my dear, I think at some point I''ll have to take a closer look at your ears... who knows, maybe you''re not as human as you seem!" I laughed, before pulling her into an embrace and stealing a kiss.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    The night was bitterly cold and foggy, not a trace of any of Nirn''s moons, and we both still trembled with fear. We huddled together tightly wrapped in Courtney''s cloak until towards morning when, exhausted, we managed to doze off. And as the timid light of day began to emerge, the wolf came and licked our faces, and we woke up, remembering the terror and unprecedented events of the night. Courtney had fully recovered by now and was laughing cheerfully, asking for food while the wolf whimpered softly at her feet!


    I watched them for a short while; she was so beautiful with her hair untangled and her shining eyes, and the wolf, with its fur matted with coagulated blood, friendly licked the hand she gently caressed it with. I must admit I was desperate then because I felt that after a quite long period of calm, the strange and incomprehensible manifestations that had overwhelmed me in recent years were starting again.


    Ah, that distant dream, the beautiful and terrible woman who insulted me and caressed me with sweet words at the same time, the fact that I knew with certainty that the manifestation belonged to a foreign entity, so alien that my mind often refused to believe in the reality of the strange events in my short life, all these created a strange emptiness in my soul... But above all, just as the skooma addict feels an urgent need for the stuff when it is lacking for a while, I began to miss Bravil! I already yearned for its winding streets, the lively hustle and bustle of the port district, the wonderful statue guarding the central square of the City, and most of all, the coolness perfumed by the scent of incense and burnt spices from Her Temple! But there was no time for such thoughts, so we hastily ate what was left in our bag and set out on the terrible road, terribly thirsty because the alcoholic beverage from the night before was now taking its full revenge!


    We wandered a good part of the day among the pale hills, occasionally climbing to the top of one of them to try to survey the area. We took turns doing this because we found it terribly difficult to ascend those steep and slippery slopes, devoid of any vegetation or roughness that could have made our ascent easier. The weather didn''t help either, being overcast, and around noon a light rain started, and even a light mist settled over the entire region.But, by a stroke of luck, we emerged late in the afternoon in a wide valley, in the middle of which the trembling water of a lake could be seen. A smell of smoke lingered around us, and soon we spotted a few huts on the water''s edge. Sharp barks of dogs began to be heard, and then we heard whimpering behind us; when I turned around, I saw that the wolf that had patiently accompanied us until then had stopped and was staring intensely at us with his blazing green eyes. "Ah, it''s time to say goodbye!" I said, smiling, and added, "Courtney, go and kiss your little one!"


    She let out a trill of laughter and ran towards the animal, then lay down on the ground and stroked its thick coat. Then the wolf slowly headed towards the hills, stopping and looking back occasionally. As it moved away, it seemed hesitant at first, turning its head toward Courtney a few times. But gradually, its gait changed¡ªfrom cautious to confident, from regretful to determined. Its back straightened, and the fur along its neck bristled slightly, a sign that its instincts had fully awakened. Its ears perked up, attentively catching every sound of the wilderness, and its tail lifted slightly, marking the moment it ceased to be a temporary companion to humans and became, once more, a beast of the wild. Before vanishing into the hills, it cast one last glance at us¡ªnot like a dog searching for its master, but like a friend bidding farewell forever!


    We continued our weary journey and arrived near what turned out to be a small temporary settlement of war refugees who had come, according to their words, from the South, from a fishing village near Leyawiin. Most of them were women, elderly, and children, with only one mature man among them, and they received us with some initial fear, but this dissipated almost immediately as we began to tell them the purpose of our adventure in the wilderness where we found ourselves. They then taught us how to reach Cheydinhal, following the course of the river that flows somewhere north into the adjacent lake. But they also warned us that Cheydinhal was a closed city and that bands of refugees roamed the roads around the city where there were many overcrowded camps plagued by a cholera epidemic. According to them, from the early days of the Imperial City siege, the city had permanently closed its gates, allowing no one to enter or leave. Well, except for some merchants and their convoys that, oddly enough, always manage to supply both parts in a war!


    Ah, those merchants of war... As we spoke to the refugees, I could see the disdain in their eyes every time they mentioned these traders. With their heavy-laden carts and well-fed horses, these men traversed battlefields as if strolling through bustling markets. In their eyes, death was but another opportunity, another coin to be collected. They moved between the camps of men and mer, their goods filling the bellies and arming the hands of both sides, indifferent to the cause or the cost.


    Courtney, with her innocent curiosity, asked one of the older women how these merchants managed to pass through the sealed gates of Cheydinhal. The woman snorted bitterly, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "Gold opens more doors than any key, child. In this war, it speaks louder than the cries of the dying. They walk freely where we starve and beg, their laughter echoing over the groans of the wounded."


    And as night fell, tales spread among the refugees¡ªstories of how these traders would send their lackeys to scavenge the dead in the aftermath of great battles. Under the cover of darkness, their hands rifled through bloodied clothes, prying rings from stiff fingers and lifting coin purses from the cold. Their faces remained blank, indifferent, like the gods who watched from above, untouched by mortal suffering.


    We stayed there that evening, and those poor people welcomed us to their humble table and allowed us simply to sleep next to them in their humble resting places, spread with leaves and grass. We wanted to pay when we left, but the man smiled bitterly and told us that money couldn''t help them in any way, so Courtney gave him her cloak and I gave him my knife, which apparently pleased him greatly. He led us himself along the lake to where the Reed River poured its swirling waters into it. We parted from him there, and both of us followed the direction of the river, towards north.


    We walked among the course of the water through a narrow valley flanked by the same steep, short hills, like mounds, characteristic of this area of Hearthland, except that those in the valley were wooded. The very rugged terrain of the winding river valley made our progress much slower, but late in the afternoon, we arrived in the vicinity of Cheydinhal.


    Even before we could see the city walls, we entered the huge refugee camp that had formed here. We saw then terrible, moving and revolting things, endless crowds of hungry people dressed in rags, their miserable shelters and heaps of unburied corpses lying everywhere. We had already seen enough bodies floating on the surface of the Reed or hanging tangled among the branches of the old willows dipping their lush branches into the river. We feared then for our poor friends who had sheltered us by their pale fires and we tried to stay as far away as possible from the hesitant and skeletal human specters haunting the camp.


    We saw exhausted and starving men fighting over a meager piece of moldy bread; we saw small children crying pitifully beside the bodies of their dead mothers; we saw almost mad women rocking their dead babies while singing softly to them! The terrible smells and the muffled or sharp cries that dominated the area deeply impressed me and added new notions to the image I had begun to form about war. You see, my friends, in my mother Alisanne''s home I had read some historical books that extolled great heroes and skilled leaders of past wars, their deeds of arms and the glorious battles they had participated in. But there was nothing written about the silent and ghostly masses of ordinary people melting away in the flames and miasmas of such shining wars! For that''s how they are described by historians who write in their warm and clean chambers, after or before enjoying their sumptuous meals and emptying their goblets of noble wine! But all of them, with few exceptions whose writings never reach the eyes of ordinary readers, are paid from the generous pockets of the war winners because, oddly enough, wars build fortunes that in times of peace could only be accumulated over many generations!


    But I digress again, so I''d better return to my story... As we approached the Blue Road, the wretched hovels haunted by sick and hungry creatures became sparse, and, here and there, were huge mass graves partially covered. The road was deserted and clean, nothing of the dreadful drama unfolding in the sparse forest could be guessed from here and on its edges, piles of burnt bones and remnants of large fires that had consumed the bodies of the dead could be seen from time to time... Because, as I would later find out, detachments of heavy cavalry periodically emerged from the city and cleared, let''s say, the road of the ragged and sickly creatures that dared to approach the walls in hopes of any small help from their fellow beings inside.


    We hurried along the road towards the huge gates and a tall, mustached sergeant shouted from afar for us to stop as he aimed his crossbow at us. But then I took a bulky pouch from my bag and began to shake it in such a way that the divine jingle of gold caressed the soldier''s ears. He lowered his crossbow and gestured for us to approach and I told him that we would pay whatever he asked if he could slip us into the city. I saw then his crude and greedy look, and I could clearly read the thoughts passing through his mind at that moment. But I looked intensely into his eyes and smiled, and he unexpectedly relented and said hurriedly and in a hushed voice, "Both of you come after dark to the small gate in the north of the wall. It will be open!" I smiled at him again and let a few heavy gold coins fall as if by chance onto the dusty ground, and then both of us melted into the thickets on the north side of the road where we waited for nightfall.


    As promised, the gate was slightly ajar, and the light of a torch could be seen trembling beyond it. Expecting the worst, I took the crossbow out of the bag and gave it to Courtney, who had meanwhile lit the small lantern. She propped her weapon demonstratively on her shoulder, although neither then nor now does Courtney know how to use such a weapon and I hurried toward the gate. In my right hand, I held up the pouch, and in my left hand, which was held close to my body, the dagger. I showed them both to the sergeant, who had meanwhile come out and was thoughtfully looking at Courtney. A struggle then took place in his soul and I knew that he deeply regretted coming alone to the meeting... But that would have meant having to share the money and this is not a pleasant thought, is it, my friends?


    I stopped and whispered to him to approach, leaving the gate open and he followed my instructions exactly, stopping a few steps away from me. I then had a strong and wild desire to kill him, but I restrained myself and threw the pouch at his feet, ordering him at the same time to remain still.


    "Go!" I told my friend, who dashed into the city, melting into the darkness, and then I felt the scoundrel tensing up and reaching for his sword hilt. "You''d die..." I said with a sweet voice, looking at him intensely. "It would be a shame; there is a lot of gold in the pouch... Why not enjoy the money and, who knows, maybe we can even be friends?" He relaxed suddenly, smiled, and said, "You''re right, lady! Maybe we''ll meet again in the city!"


    "Of course!" I smiled sweetly and walked backward to the gate through which I entered. We both hurried along the wide, deserted streets of Cheydinhal, stopping only when we were sure no one was following us. We stopped then, Courtney burst into laughter and said, "Ah, my dear kitty is actually an old fox!" and I hugged her warmly.


    It didn''t take us long to find an inn, its door lit and open, the air thick with the divine scent of food¡ªa temptation too great for two tired, hungry souls! We took a room and ordered a rich meal, which we sprinkled with many goblets of the sweet wine produced from the vineyards on the hillsides overlooking Anvil, and then we both fell into a sweet sleep.


    My mistress appeared to me that night in a dream after so many years of not seeing her but I won''t talk here about our conversation... Many sad things, reproaches, and insults were said then... Lies and threats as well, but also sweet words and oaths of eternal love... And late in the morning we were awakened by insistent knocks on the door, and when I opened it, there stood Cicero in front of me!

 Chapter 16

    Certainly, Cicero was much less surprised than I was at that moment because he immediately smiled widely and said, "Rasha was sure that you were the one who entered the town last night! Illegal, I must say..." and grinned at me. Before I could regain my composure, he gently pushed me aside and entered our room. Then I saw the two burly sergeants dressed in full armor, armed as for war with spear, short sword and shield, accompanying him. They wanted to follow Cicero, but I firmly planted myself in the doorway and said, "They stay there. And perhaps you shouldn''t have barged into our room either!"


    "Ah, forgive me Elsie, you''re right. Maccius, wait downstairs in the inn''s hall!" He then closed the door and looked at me questioningly and even suspiciously.


    "Who is she?" Cicero asked, looking at Courtney, who in turn looked at him with sleepy eyes, displeased at being woken up.


    "She''s my dear sister!" I replied.


    "Yes, it seems you have a special talent for collecting all sorts of relatives wherever you go in your life!" Cicero chuckled. "Who knows, maybe I''ll become your brother in a short while..."


    "In a way, you already are," I replied.


    "Is that so? I believe things are a bit more complicated than you think, Elsie! But now get dressed and follow me; Rasha is a busy man and the Duchess''s private council which he must attend starts shortly! He wishes to see you before the meeting..."


    "The Duchess''s private council? What Duchess? And since when has Rasha been in league with the nobility?" I said, very surprised.


    "I repeat, we don''t have time, we''ll talk on the way about everything you want, Elsie."


    "Fine. Then get out of the room while we dress!"


    "She''s not coming with us," Cicero said.


    "Oh, but Courtney is accompanying us! Otherwise, we''ll both wait here for Rasha! After he finishes his important discussions with the Duchess and her sycophants, of course..." I grinned.


    "Women..." Cicero sighed and then laughed. "As you wish. We''ll wait for you downstairs."


    "Oh, I almost forgot! Send your hounds away; I don''t like the clattering of steel behind me, it makes me nervous, and who knows what might happen then..." I said softly.


    Cicero scratched his head, sighed deeply, and hurriedly left the room. Courtney had fully woken up by then, so we hastily dressed in our best clothes and, after hiding the dagger under my skirt, we both left the room. Outside, a carriage with six magnificent horses awaited us, and Cicero, very politely and with a wide smile on his face, ceremoniously opened the lacquered door. But the recent events had already begun to displease me, so I said to him, "Here''s the thing, friend! We are simple girls and we''re not accustomed to using such magnificent things. We''ll walk!"


    "But you''ll be late, I already told you, Rasha is in a hurry" Cicero objected.


    "Oh, it''s alright! Then we''ll meet Rasha after he finishes ''advising'' the ''Duchess''... As it''s been years since we last saw each other, I think he can wait a few more hours for our reunion! In the meantime, we invite you to breakfast. You know, we''re very hungry..."


    Cicero sighed deeply and a deep crease formed between his eyebrows. "You''re very stubborn, aren''t you? I wonder if your sister, I forgot her name, is like you."


    "Oh, no sir! I''m a very friendly girl, and you''ll see that soon if you join us for a meal! My name is Courtney!" she laughed and extended her hand. Cicero then smiled and said, "As you wish, Elsie! I fear Rasha will punish me for the delay, but... I hope you''ll tell him that you refused the escort and carriage."


    "You can count on it!" I said, and then Courtney took his hand and pulled him back into the inn where we ordered a copious breakfast, rather a lunch!


    During the meal, which was very pleasant thanks to my friend who outdid herself in sweetness towards Cicero, I learned many things that really surprised me. Though, maybe some of them were not so shocking after all... You see friends, during turbulent times like wars and revolutions, ah, the revolution, this romantic term makes me laugh, many peculiar changes may occur in the, let''s say, natural order of things. As the saying goes, in great floods, the rubbish is always the first to rise to the surface...


    Deeply worried by the loss of Anvil and Leyawiin following their conquest by the elves, profoundly scared by the betrayal of the nobles of Bravil and the movements of rebels in the North threatening to engulf Bruma in their flames, the Emperor raised the county of Nibenay Basin to the rank of a duchy and bestowed the corresponding hereditary title of Duchess upon Nephatah Indarys, the former Countess of Cheydinhal. The Nibenay Basin and the Counts of Cheydinhal had never been very loyal to the Empire and the cultural influences brought by the elves who came here after the eruption of Red Mountain deepened the differences between the county and the Imperial throne; probably Titus Mede II believed that in this way he would strengthen his relations with this insecure region of the Empire in such difficult times...


    What matters is that the fresh Duchess now ruled her domain with an iron hand, ruthlessly removing any opposition and harshly punishing deviations from the established official doctrine. To my relief, I then learned that one of Nephatah''s first measures was to expel the members of the Order of Stendarr from her city. But the most surprising thing for me was to find out that, on the Duchess''s orders, an imposing temple of Mephala had been built right in the city''s central square, next to the old and well-known Cathedral of Arkay! Cicero couldn''t give me details about the relations between the priests of the two cults, but I understood that after some minor disturbances, the Queen''s cult had been accepted by the city''s inhabitants with open arms. This was not surprising after all since so many Dunmer live here...


    And Rasha, the former thug from the Merchant Quarter, top assassin in the Dark Brotherhood and most likely the last Silencer of Alisanne, was now the Minister of the Internal Affairs in the Duchess''s narrow government! I must admit that these news left me gaping... And, at the same time, I didn''t like the last one at all because, you see friends, the cult of Sithis is based on a doctrine that disregards the authority of mortal beings, including elves regardless of their skin color!


    Sithis, for initiates, is the promoter of change and, apparently, of disorder. This last aspect is subtle and would require too much debate for the real purpose of this minor writing of mine, but the basic idea distilled from the delicate alembic of this cult creed is that He will always work to undermine order. My daddy uses a strange name for this unrelenting work of Sithis; he calls it entropy! But I won''t go further with my considerations, I''ll let you think about that... I was very curious and uneasy now about Rasha, so the three of us set off for his residence.


    I won''t describe now, neither his sumptuous villa nor the steward who was dressed like a cavalry general; I''ll just say that when Rasha finally arrived in the evening, he made a striking impression on me. He was now a massive man, with long, graying sideburns, and his eyes seemed to shoot lightning. His forehead was deeply furrowed, and his determined stride revealed a strong self-confidence, typical for a master among masters. Cicero immediately stood up as Rasha entered the room, and Courtney, ah, that astonished me beyond words, followed suit immediately. He came toward us with equal steps and said sharply, "Cicero, leave us alone for a while, please."


    "I''ll be in your office Rasha, if you need me," Cicero said and left the room. Rasha then turned his gaze to us, and I returned a searching and curious look. "Who is she?" he asked. "Oh, nobody really important, Rasha, she''s just my beloved sister, Courtney." He glanced at me and suddenly burst into laughter. Then my dear brother hurried towards me and lifted me in his strong arms as if I were a mere feather; he kissed me passionately. "Perhaps she can stay then; we''re family, aren''t we?" he smiled, and his eyes softened for a moment. "I''m very pleased to meet you, Courtney; any soul which is loved by my dear and invaluable Elsie is a friend of mine."


    "Oh, I''m chuffed, guv''nor! I''m over the moon, I am!" Courtney stuttered, and then I burst into laughter. You see, whenever she''s deeply disturbed, which happens very, very rarely, Courtney starts speaking again in her Bravil slang...


    "You''ve scared her, Rasha! Now I''ll punish you for that, and as a chastisement, I''ll invite you to join us for dinner!" I giggled happily. "Join you? Where''s that?" "The ''Three Goats'' Inn, first floor, second room on the left," I replied. He was a bit puzzled but quickly recovered and said, "Yes, after all, this is your evening, so we''ll do whatever you want, Elsie!"


    But it wasn''t quite like that because he didn''t want to give up his escort and carriage when we returned together to our hostel. The evening was very pleasant, largely thanks to my dear friend who had recovered in the meantime and had become funny and even cheeky again. However, Rasha was haunted by thoughts and worries; despite he seemed to enjoy our company thoroughly, the furrows on his forehead deepened from time to time and his eyes sometimes became stern and pensive.


    Late into the night, we parted with the promise that we would visit him the next day around noon. This was because I didn''t accept his proposal to live together in his sumptuous villa. He insisted so much that I made evasive promises, but in fact I was determined not to make, at least for now, this move.


    The next day, Courtney and I went to the Temple of Mephala. Both of us were curious and impatient, but once there, we were deeply disappointed. Apart from the building, which was majestic and gleaming, overshadowing the nearby old cathedral of Arkay, the interior was dull and without any particular sign which might have shown religious fervor or divine grace; in that temple, the air was not filled with subtle perfumes, whispers and that deep, secret joy like from the Great Temple of Bravil! There were just many priests, mostly Dunmer, who diligently performed a ritual that was deeply strange to us... And Her statue, which sat majestically behind the grand marble altar, was deeply alien to us... So, both disillusioned, we left the temple and decided to wander around the city until the time of our meeting with Rasha.


    Cheydinhal is a typical Imperial city, but it has the characteristic features of a city where an important foreign community lives. I''m talking about the Dunmer who settled here following the disaster that turned Vvardenfell into a desolate wasteland, covered in partially solidified lava and volcanic ash; the cataclysm that erased the great city of Vivec from the face of Nirn and consumed in its flames the great cultural riches from there...


    Cheydinhal was immaculate¡ªalmost unnaturally so! Wide, well-maintained streets stretched in perfect symmetry, flanked by colorful, imposing buildings. But something felt off... Nowhere did we see beggars, nor even a single street urchin darting between alleys. Even the commercial square, though well-stocked and orderly, lacked the usual hustle and chaos of a true trade hub. Guards dressed in full armor marched through every district, their watchful eyes missing nothing; they were fully equipped for war, disciplined, and their looks were cold and distant. And the city was calm. Too calm! There was no laughter, no bickering merchants, no idle gossip. It was nothing like Bravil... It was a city where life happened behind closed doors, out of sight! Somehow, all these impressed us in a strange way: the citizens, while content and busy, seemed to lack the joy of life; they were far too absorbed in their trade; even the merchants in the commercial areas didn''t praise their wares or haggle. Oh, after the time spent in Her Holy City, that was really odd for us! And in the taverns, they didn''t serve alcoholic beverages in the morning¡ªonly tea or sweet juices, along with very copious meals! All in all, the city felt strange and cold, and we hurried towards my brother''s mansion.


    We met Rasha at his villa, and the first thing he did was to hand me the bag of money I had given the sergeant who had snuck us into the city. When he saw my confusion, he chuckled lightly. "He won''t need it anymore," he said. "He betrayed us during wartime."


    Then, with a kind smile, he invited us to dine with him. After the meal, he sent Courtney and his maid for a walk in the villa''s small park. Once we were alone in the salon, his expression shifted suddenly. His eyes softened, his shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he appeared smaller, more vulnerable. He was no longer the imposing figure I''d known¡ªjust a tired, troubled Khajiit, weighed down by secrets.


    He took my hand, his voice quiet but urgent. "I need your help, Elsie. The Duchess''s court and the city itself are dangerous places for me right now. You''re the only one I can fully trust."


    I asked him if Cicero was still his friend. He nodded sadly but added, "Cicero either can''t or won''t understand the scope of my plans."


    Then he told me about his plan to revive the Morag Tong. With a lot of words, my brother tried to convey the grandeur of their endeavor; how he and the Duchess wished to resurrect the long-extinct organization that had once nearly destroyed the Dark Brotherhood centuries ago.


    "But... they''re the enemy, Rasha! Or at least they were. Why bring them back now?" I asked, my voice thick with disbelief.


    Rasha''s eyes darkened for a moment, as if the weight of what he was about to say was heavier than he had anticipated. He took a deep breath, then spoke with renewed determination, his words carrying a mixture of excitement and caution.


    "Because, Elsie, they were never the enemy. Not in the way you think. The Brotherhood and the Tong¡ªthey were born from the same roots. The Tong were the first, the true assassins, and the Brotherhood... they strayed, turned into something different. But there is a power in what they knew, a precision that we''ve lost over the centuries. The Duchess understands this. She''ll back us. She''ll bring Morag Tong back to life, and with it, our craft."


    I took a step back, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the room. "You can''t be serious, Rasha. You want to bring them back? The very organization that betrayed us, that helped bring about the fall of our Sanctuary?"


    Rasha rose from his seat, his gaze unwavering. He walked over to me slowly, his presence filling the space between us. "We were betrayed, yes... but those who nearly destroyed our Brotherhood are long gone. The Morag Tong I''m talking about is not the one from the past. We can rebuild it, make it something more powerful, more unified. The old grudges... they can be put to rest."


    I shook my head, still struggling to understand. "But we''re not just talking about history, Rasha. Right now, we are trying to undo something our Mother sealed off!"


    Rasha''s voice softened, the intensity replaced with a quiet plea. "Our Mother is silent right now, Elsie; maybe she expects from us a bold move, one that could move mountains through faith and deeds. I trust this future, Elsie. I trust in what we can build together. This is bigger than us and bigger than our Brotherhood. If we don''t take this chance... we''ll be left behind and soon vanish. The Duchess will ensure that we can operate openly, without fear. We can have our place in the world again."


    I could see the weight of his words in his eyes, and for a moment, my doubts seemed to fade into the background. His voice, steady and unwavering, held a kind of certainty that was hard to ignore. Still, I wasn''t sure if I was ready to embrace this new path... but the pull of his belief in what he could accomplish was undeniable. His words were compelling, and though doubt still gnawed at me, the part of me that had always trusted Rasha¡ªthe part that still believed in him¡ªwas tempted. "I don''t know, Rasha..."


    But before I could say more, he lifted me in his strong arms and kissed me. "Have patience and trust me, Elsie! I beg you," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "Please! I need you greatly in these difficult times for me!"


    The warmth of his embrace, the intensity of his gaze, and the weight of his words pulled at me with an almost irresistible force. And then, under the overwhelming power of the love I had always borne for him, I found myself nodding, despite every warning in my chest. I accepted...


    The weight of his request pressed down on me, and though every instinct screamed that this was a dangerous path, my heart couldn''t deny the pull of his need. I nodded slowly, my voice barely a whisper as I said, "I''ll trust you, my love..."


    Rasha smiled, the glint of determination returning to his eyes. "Thank you, Elsie. You won''t regret this."


    He then stood, strapping on his sword and donning his richly adorned cloak. Together, we left for what had been the Sanctuary of the Brotherhood in Cheydinhal for centuries¡ªnow to be the place of Morag Tong''s resurrection.


    The house was grand but worn, with an upper floor and balcony that overlooked a weed-choked courtyard, crowded with overgrown trees and bushes. A few workers moved about, busy with repairs both inside and out. My brother and I descended into the basement, to the very place where, for generations, our Brotherhood had lived and thrived¡ªwhere Lucien Lachance had once spent his childhood and youth, learning and dreaming. Rasha locked the door behind us, and then, raising the torch above his head, led me into a small, cylindrical room. There, standing upright, was the Mother''s sarcophagus.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I approached it slowly, my fingers grazing its surface, and whispered, "The Godfather spoke to me about the day you left Bravil with Her."


    "The Godfather?" Rasha chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Ah, you mean the ever-resourceful Vito, who always demanded a steep price for his services. But I must admit, it was always worth it. How did you meet him, Elsie?"


    "Life brought me to him," I murmured, my voice thick with memories. "But now he''s dead, like many of my friends from Bravil."


    "Interesting... How did it happen?" Rasha''s curiosity piqued, his tone shifting.


    "It''s a long story," I sighed, "and I''ll tell you sometime... But tell me, Rasha¡ªwhen you fled Bravil, did you ever think of me?" I fixed him with a steady gaze.


    Rasha placed the torch into a niche in the wall and gently took my shoulders in his hands. His voice softened, a tinge of regret in his eyes. "No, Elsie. Not at all. That day, a series of events unfolded, and I confess that, as I remember it now, I had completely forgotten about your existence. As though you hadn''t existed at all... It''s hard to believe, I know, but it''s the truth."


    I let out a small, bitter laugh. "Yes, I believe you, Rasha. It was indeed a strange, dangerous day..." I whispered, the memories of that day swirling around me.


    "We''ll talk about it more later, Elsie," he said, his voice firming up. "But right now, I want to show you something important." He pressed a hidden spot on the wall behind the sarcophagus, and a door slowly creaked open, revealing the darkness beyond.


    Behind it was a narrow, dark corridor. We stepped inside and walked for a short while, the air growing heavier with each step. At the end of the passage, Rasha operated a hidden lever in the wall, and with a low groan, a gate swung open, revealing a deep, narrow valley. We stepped out into the cool air, surrounded by thick, tall bushes that seemed to swallow up the sound of our footsteps; behind us, the ivy-covered walls of Cheydinhal loomed in the distance, very tall and menacing.


    "The ancient Counts of Cheydinhal built this tunnel and hideout," Rasha said, his voice low and reverent. "Before it became a Sanctuary for our Brotherhood, this was the last haven of the Morag Tong."


    I glanced at him, pondering what he''d just said. "Does the Duchess know about the tunnel?" I asked, frowning slightly.


    "No," Rasha replied, shaking his head. "I don''t think she does. In fact, during her grandfather''s time, another escape tunnel was built, leading directly to the palace basement."


    "How do you know about it, Rasha?" I asked, trying to catch his eyes with my own. I managed to establish a brief, satisfactory contact and felt my mind beginning to reach toward him, attempting to slip inside his thoughts. But immediately, he averted his gaze and started to smile coldly.


    "Ah, don''t you try to use your tricks on me, Elsie," he whispered, in a voice filled with restrained anger. "You see, that would hurt me deeply and upset me beyond measure! I''m not some fool or plaything for you, little sister... I intend to trust you fully¡ªbut only if you renounce these dirty games." His voice dropped even further: "I would appreciate it if you didn''t try to pry into my thoughts," he added, finally looking at me again with a cold and resolute gaze.


    I felt a pang of guilt¡ªguilt mingled with frustration. For a moment, I wondered if I had crossed a line... I lowered my gaze, my eyes focusing on the ground; but in my mind, lingered the thought that people who love each other shouldn''t have secrets or hidden agendas... Yet, he was my big brother, and I had always been very submissive to his anger and wishes.


    "You know I would never do that to you, Rasha," I whispered, though the lie made my words sound hollow.


    Rasha''s gaze softened slightly. "Good! Keep it that way, then," he said, his tone gentler now, though still tinged with anger. "Alisanne revealed the secrets of this Sanctuary to me," he continued, his voice calm but resolute. "See, she, our esteemed Listener, trusted me and sent me to Cheydinhal with a mission. And now, I''m fulfilling my duty as best as I can. She ordered me to keep our Brotherhood alive¡ªand that''s what I''m doing. With or without your permission..." He began to grin, but suddenly his smile faltered. "Alisanne also told me I should kill you, Elsie, whenever I meet you. But she was already... well, let''s just say, a very ill woman by that point. So, you see, you''re still alive..." He paused, the grin returning for a moment. "And I offered you the high and respectable position of my lieutenant¡ªthough that''s only valid if you stop acting like a cheesy little creature with me."


    A tidal wave of thoughts and emotions flooded my mind as I listened to his words! Especially the last ones... So, Rasha had lied to me when he said he''d forgotten about me when he left Bravil in such a rush, taking our Mother with him; so, Alisanne, my beloved and respected mother, was a coward in the end¡ªshe didn''t even have the nerve to plunge herself the dagger into my chest! I was filled with astonishment, anger, fear, and disgust all at once! I wanted to leap at my brother and rip his eyes out with my claws! I wanted to scream, to weep, to run far away and hide deep in the earth''s burrows! But I did nothing at all. I just nodded slowly and asked, ?And the Sanctuary''s Speaker? Where is he? Could I speak with him?"


    ?But you''re speaking with him right now, Elsie!" Rasha laughed, a playful edge to his voice. ?And to save you from asking more questions, let me tell you this: aside from Cicero, the Sanctuary is home to two other members of our Brotherhood who currently reside in my villa; they''re the guardians of my mansion. You''ll meet them soon enough, but I''ll warn you¡ªthey''re not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed. Just your typical cutthroats. Anyway, let''s go back now. We''ll talk more in the coming days."


    We made our way back, and as we walked, Rasha taught me the locations of all the hidden buttons that activated the tunnel''s mechanisms. At one point, we passed a chilling cell, its purpose unspoken but understood, and I quickly chose not to ask.


    We finally arrived at Rasha''s villa, where we parted ways. I went to gather my friend, and we returned to our hostel, where we would stay until the repairs to the Sanctuary were completed. Once the work was finished, we would move into the place where we would live for the remainder of our time in Cheydinhal.


    I met Nephatah Indarys during an official reception. Rasha introduced me simply, saying, "My sister, Elsie," and the Duchess offered a polite, official smile¡ªone that, for all its grace, never quite reached her eyes. It didn''t take long for me to realize that the Duchess either couldn''t¡ªor perhaps simply refused¡ªto smile. She was, in her own way, a remarkable woman: formidable, driven by an unyielding will, and wielding a quiet authority that made her stand out from everyone else.


    As for me, I was still young and na?ve, inexperienced in dealing with nobles or their privileged circles¡ªthat kind of special servants who believed they were above the common folk. Throughout our early encounters, Nephatah remained an enigma to me; I was never able to anticipate her wishes or her true motivations. She always seemed a step ahead, her intentions hidden beneath layers of calculated indifference. As time passed, I came to believe that her deeds, both public and secret, were guided by forces familiar to me¡ªgreed, ambition, betrayal, and manipulation. Simple, perhaps, but far-reaching in their consequences!


    But as I reflect now, I realize how wrong I was. Perhaps my understanding of her was naive, even childish. That remarkable, cunning woman still rules her small kingdom today, as I write these very words. Her power is built on nothing but the pursuit of her own interests¡ªher allegiances are for sale, as are the lives of her subjects; Nephatah is ever open to negotiations with anyone, everyone, and she is willing to part with anything she possesses, so long as the price is right; provisions, promises, her own integrity¡ªshould she even have any left¡ª, the small but highly trained army of the Duchy of Niben, and her loyalty, if it suits her. Nothing is off the table.


    Her singular drive is power itself. And she is so provincial in her ambition¡ªit''s not that she lacks the intelligence to expand beyond the borders of her duchy; rather, she knows well enough that any attempt at territorial growth would be her undoing. The lands surrounding her are full of more powerful neighbors, any one of whom could easily turn her little kingdom into a heap of ashes. No, Nephatah is too wise for that! She doesn''t seek to spread her rule¡ªshe seeks to control what she already has, to maintain her dominion over her little corner of the world, where she can pull the strings without ever having to risk too much. The Duchess simply wants to rule over her little state, a patch of land where men and mer alike are her pawns; she is a ruler in the truest sense, but her rule is one of quiet tyranny, built on deals made in shadows, where no one is safe from her machinations.


    Anyway, at that time, Nephatah seized on the chaos of the Empire''s crumbling state, indifferent to the trust the Emperor had placed in her. Rather than supporting him, she began carving out her own little kingdom, filled with wealth and power. When the outcome of the war started to become clear to those who paid attention, the Duchess sent emissaries to the Elven High Command in Cyrodiil, halting the flow of taxes and supplies meant for the Empire. The elves welcomed her overtures for a truce, and in return, their armies bypassed the Duchess''s lands. From that point on, things became... simpler. While the loyal Imperial territories were ravaged by the Dominion''s marauding troops, the Duchess''s lands flourished, untouched by war, and her goods became the subject of very lucrative trade with the invading army.


    However, not all the nobles in the duchy¡ªor the influential figures in Cheydinhal¡ªwere so easily swayed. Some openly opposed Nephatah''s actions. Certain barons refused to recognize her authority and led armed bands that harassed the Dominion''s rear guard and supply convoys. These internal conflicts within the duchy put tremendous pressure on Nephatah''s relations with the Dominion''s High Command, who urged her to act decisively and resolve the matter swiftly.


    Perhaps now you begin to understand the role Nephatah envisioned for Rasha and the reestablished Morag Tong. This should come as no surprise, for the Tong has long been a solution to the political tensions between powerful houses, especially those of Morrowind. After all, when politics and crime overlap, it was only natural for the influential Dunmer to turn to an organization that worshiped Mephala¡ªa guild both ancient and wise, one whose cunning and bitterness were poured into its Creed and Chart. In its prime, the Morag Tong was a remarkable force, tempered by the machinations of a civilization that prided itself on its subtlety.


    Yet Mephala is not a logical patron. In all her ambiguity, she grew bored over time¡ªor perhaps she simply wished to renew the Vows and Creed... Her pawns too. The Queen turned against her worshipers, and over time, her followers broke their sacred oaths, betrayed and killed each other, until internal conflict and suspicion consumed the very body of this once mighty organization.


    But for a time, things worked as planned. Disagreements between rivals were solved with civil precision, avoiding bloodbaths and open warfare. In my opinion, this is far preferable to the brutal wars that often ravage the lands of those who disagree on a political level. It''s far less damaging to the land¡ªand certainly less costly¡ªto eliminate a baron and his family than to send armies to besiege his stronghold. It''s also much cheaper, with far fewer casualties.


    But of course, such an organization does not exist and act without consequences; it breeds corruption. It breeds ambition; and it breeds revenge. Those who rise within its ranks inevitably seek to twist its power to their own ends, and soon, the line between loyalty and treachery fades. What begins as a tool of control can, in time, become the hand that seizes the throne. A secret army, elusive and highly skilled, may start as the enforcer of a ruler''s will, but it can just as easily unseat him¡ªreplacing him with a puppet. Or worse, with its own Grand Master!


    A wise leader must therefore keep a watchful eye on the Grand Master and his closest circle. He must have his own agents, spies planted within spies, and those too must be shifted, removed, replaced, before their allegiance drifts. But the Grand Master is no fool¡ªhe, too, will weave his own web of informants, his safeguards, his silent assassins to counter the ruler''s moves. And so, the cycle feeds itself. A dance of shadows, a game where trust is an illusion and power is the only constant.


    In the end, such collaborations cannot last. Sooner or later, the balance shifts. The only exception is the rare and terrifying case where the ruler and the Grand Master are truly one, bound not just by mutual interest, but by something far deeper¡ªan understanding so absolute that neither fears betrayal. Only then, in that rigid yet secure world of their own making, can such a system endure for a lifetime. But even then... only for a lifetime.


    In any case, I didn''t understand any of these subtle and dangerous aspects during the time I spent in Cheydinhal as Grand Master''s sister... and lover... At the time, all I knew with certainty was that we were making a mistake, a grave and dangerous one, and there was no good end in sight. But I didn''t have a choice; just like our mother Shaira before me, I couldn''t refuse Rasha. His smile, his pleading look, or even just his authoritative demeanor¡ªit was enough to sway me. In the end, we walked hand in hand down a road that led him to disaster. And me? Well, I became what I am today: a restless, sorrowful creature who forever searches for her lost loved ones in places where they can no longer be!


    But back then, in accordance with my total surrender to Rasha''s will, we began to build a hybrid and utterly incomplete organization. Cicero and the other two members of the Brotherhood, Garnag and Pontius, came to live with me and Courtney in the Sanctuary building, and soon after, Rasha sent us a handful of recruits who needed to be trained¡ªphysically, mentally, and, of course, spiritually. It was then when my brother asked me to initiate the secret cult of Mephala in the basement of our dwelling, and I looked at him in astonishment and told him that not only I was unaware of any secret cult of Hers, but I wasn''t even initiated into the official cult of the Oblivion''s Queen. He didn''t want to believe me, simply refusing to understand that Alisanne venerated Sithis and preached in His name. From my perspective, Rasha was very confused about this matter; he strongly asserted that Alisanne had always practiced the secret cult of Mephala both in her residence in Bravil and at the Mausoleum of Mother. And he spoke about Alisanne''s lion! Oh, how I shuddered when I heard that; in my mother''s mansion, there was a single guarding animal, a leopard, gracious and dangerous.


    But I was starting to understand something wasn''t right when Rasha called our mother Shiara! Shiara! But I knew¡ª I knew¡ªher name had always been Shaira... Then he said a lot of things about my many fulfilled contracts, calling me a veteran assassin of our Brotherhood; except I didn''t remember any killing done by me except the one I did in repayment for our debts to Ser Gregorius Clegius... And more; my brother spoke of some common memories from our childhood; or, I entered his family at a time when he didn''t was a child anymore. Rasha saw often the disbelief and astonishment from my eyes and quite always tried to convince me, to make me remember: "But Elsie, we''ve always known it this way, haven''t we?"; his voice was pleading, but there was something desperate in it... Almost as though he, too, was searching for answers... but in the wrong places. I often thought that the man before me was not the brother I remembered; although, on the other hand, there were a lot of aspects saying that Rasha was the same, only a bit changed by life...


    I still don''t have answers to this strange matter, not even now. I can''t help but think of that day in Bravil... the day when my mother Alisanne, and I bled on the blade of the Lucky Dagger, and everything trembled, when Mephala Herself seemed to slip and falter in her divine judgement. Perhaps it was then that our world fractured, and Rasha and I became... something else. Changed. And now, we were trapped in this distorted reality, where memories no longer matched, and the truth became as elusive as shadows...


    Anyway, my inability to initiate the secret cult of Mephala dealt a heavy blow to Rasha and his feelings towards me. From that moment onward, I sensed a cold barrier slowly growing between us, a distance in our relationship that had once been so simple, so profound...


    Though, in terms of training the recruits, nothing truly changed. The physical conditioning, the mental exercises¡ªthey all followed their course. At the end of their instruction, they were sent to meditate for a few days in the Temple of Mephala. Afterward, I completed their initiation by the Mother''s sarcophagus in the basement of our residence; yet, I couldn''t shake the feeling that none of them were anything more than ordinary cutthroats in the end because a few prayers and rites couldn''t transform a killer into a true disciple of Mephala¡ªnot without something deeper, something more meaningful. Not without a bit of faith... And none of them were believers, they were only highly trained assassins without a creed, without soul!


    Still, the ritual continued¡ªby Rasha''s command, and my own quiet compliance. But I could not forget the doubt gnawing at the back of my mind. Was I really doing what was right? Or had we both already lost something beyond recovery?


    Also during this time, out of sheer boredom, Courtney enjoyed training with the recruits in the use of various types of weapons and, on this occasion, to my surprise, although she had never used such a thing before, we both realized that she was a master in using the bow, especially the short bow, that crafty weapon which is frequently used by children and young people in Valenwood!


    Cicero proved to be a perfect mentor for our new collaborators and also a very good companion for me and Courtney. We often spent our free evenings in the wonderful but cool parks in Cheydinhal; oh, Courtney and I will always long for the tropical warmth of Bravil! Or in the quiet and clean taverns of this extraordinary, clean and fair city... I must confess that Courtney and I often longed for the bustling life from Her City but, nevertheless, the discreet and so soothing charm of a peaceful life became very pleasant for us in a short time! At least for me, because Courtney is born for battle... And for arguments ending in scandals, I might add! But our life in Cheydinhal flowed peacefully and without problems for a while and I remember now with melancholy those days when we were still together and so happy regardless of some small matters which appeared sometimes...


    But at some point, the time came for our work to begin... I couldn''t and I didn''t want to understand how our Brotherhood could function without the existence of a Listener and Maria''s words, spoken in the Great Temple from Bravil, echoed constantly in my mind at those moments.


    "You should know that the Brotherhood no longer exists; Our Lady has dissolved the old oaths, and there is no Listener in this world anymore," Maria said then, with a determined voice and a certainty that left no room for doubt.


    But to my brother''s obvious relief, Cicero brought one evening an old parchment marked with the symbol of the Black Hand and on which among other things was written "In times when Our Lady does not wish to speak to us, we must hear the pleas of the desperate and vengeful. And it is absolutely necessary for the people to know that their prayers to Our Lady do not go unanswered." I must say that I had suspicions about the authenticity of that document because everything written there flagrantly contravened our doctrine. And the words I quoted earlier are a blasphemy because it is not within our power to decide which of the prayers addressed to Our Lady are worthy of receiving an answer! But I will never know the truth because the poor Cicero''s mind is lost now, and although I can easily probe into everyone else''s minds, his is forever closed to me! Or, who knows, perhaps one day Mephala will decide that we are unworthy, like our predecessors, and will open the doors of darkness again; this time for me and him...


    But I didn''t express my doubts then because I didn''t want Rasha to believe that I opposed his dream and the next day, early in the morning when the dawn had not even risen, we were both received in audience by the Duchess. My brother announced to her that we were ready to begin the activities of the Morag Tong, and then I shuddered again, knowing that what we were doing was forbidden and blasphemous, and I conjured Nocturnal to advise me. But the Daedra only answered with some giggles that I found both insulting and insane at the same time, and the Duchess delightedly accepted my brother''s request for the approval of the organization. She appointed Rasha as the Grand Master of the Morag Tong and gave him a ducal patent in this regard, and she also handed me a decree pardoning my death sentence, valid throughout her duchy. With all the despair felt by me in those moments when my brother disregarded the most holy precepts of our doctrine, I could barely contain my laughter when I witnessed the solemnity with which Nephatah invested Rasha as Grand Master. She, a simple earthly being, a descendant of those cursed by Azura, to pretend to play the role of the most perverted and skilled in plots and schemes Daedra from our world! I burst out laughing only after I left the Duchess''s bedroom and Rasha stopped and looked at me in amazement... I then turned to him and, standing up on my tiptoes as much as I could, I hugged him with love. Still surprised, Rasha picked me up in his strong arms and kissed me for a long time. And then, looking straight into my eyes, he asked me why I''m so happy...


    "Oh, my love, let''s live our lives as best as we can, as long as we are still together!" I whispered between smiles and tears...

 Chapter 17

    Our first target ¨C and the first contract to come from Morag Tong¨C was a political one. The man was the wealthiest furrier in the region and the head of the woolen guild, in a land known for its vast sheep flocks and rich forests teeming with precious fur-bearing game. A staunch supporter of the Empire, he was vocal and influential in the city, holding a significant position within Cheydinhal''s administration.


    Rasha executed the contract himself, based on the target observation reports compiled by Cicero and me. It was nothing spectacular, not worthy of being remembered in the immortal chronicles of the Brotherhood¡ªjust an assassination, carried out with cold precision.


    After completing the mission, my brother entered the ritual chamber, which we had set up beside Mother''s sarcophagus; in the presence of Cicero and myself, he dedicated this first sacrifice to our Lady. Garnag and Pontius, the other two long-standing members of the Brotherhood, were also present that night in the Sanctuary.


    At the end of the small ceremony, we all went through the sacred formalities required to establish the Brotherhood''s ruling structure, the Black Hand, as it has always been known. All five of us became part of this conclave, and our first decision was to appoint a Keeper, a sacred guardian for Mother.


    Everyone hoped this would create a path to communicate with our Lady, and Cicero claimed that this had been done in similar situations in the past. He was, indeed, an authority on these matters¡ªat least to me; I trusted Cicero, for as far as I knew him, he was well-versed in the ancient traditions and a true follower of the Brotherhood. Cicero was far more spiritual than Rasha, and he genuinely aspired for the Brotherhood to fulfill its intended purpose: carrying out the orders given by a Listener in the name of our Mother. For my brother, none of this seemed to matter much, though I suspect that, at least in the beginning, he would have been relieved to take orders from Alisanne¡ªor at least to receive her advice.


    Given the circumstances, we chose Cicero to take on the role of Keeper. To our surprise, he was both proud and delighted, declaring that it was the greatest honor he had ever received in his life.


    Thus, Cicero, along with Garnag and Pontius, moved into the Sanctuary''s underground sleeping quarter. Cicero''s responsibility was to maintain daily contact with Mother''s sarcophagus, while the others would assist as needed. All three of them continued to execute Morag Tong''s contracts during this period, although Cicero was only called upon for very special assignments.


    In this way, the Sanctuary in Cheydinhal began to function just like any other from the past, or so Rasha, who had once been active in the Brotherhood Sanctuary in Leyawiin, reassured me. I carried out the few contracts entrusted to me by my brother¡ªsimply, efficiently, without hesitation or remorse. I should add that each time, I received the appropriate bonus for completing the mission in secret, without witnesses or complications.


    There was nothing particularly remarkable about these contracts; maybe only the fact that my targets were mostly prominent figures in the duchy politics or administration¡ªwell-placed individuals who, after a short time, began to take extra precautions: hiring bodyguards and fortifying their homes. However, to me, all these measures meant little; I never considered that the difficulty of the contracts had increased over time.


    Some of my brothers and sisters were not as fortunate as I was. I remember with sorrow the case of a young Breton girl¡ªpretty and shy¡ªwho was brutally killed by an angry mob. They chased her through the city''s streets after she failed her mission...


    At one point, Rasha began distributing rolled parchments to certain members of the Morag Tong. These documents, signed by him and the High Priest of Mephala, bore a grand title, adorned with intricate flourishes: The Honorable Writ of Execution. In essence, this parchment was a death sentence, pronounced on a citizen of the duchy by Rasha, Grand Master of our Order, and sanctioned by the High Priest of Mephala from Cheydinhal as the supreme religious authority.


    According to the ancient Charter of Morag Tong, such sentences should only have been pronounced after the Grand Master reviewed petitions from the duchy''s citizens. But, as I had suspected from the start, here in the Duchy of Nibenay Basin, the Writs were issued at the direct command of the Duchess. That was a blasphemy and a sin; it was also a deviation from the ancient Morag Tong Charter and a stark departure from both the sacred practices of our forebears and the very tenets of the Dark Brotherhood itself, which we had sworn to uphold in the name of our Lady.


    I disliked those Writs from the very beginning, from the first day I saw one and heard about their use. Rasha tried to explain that they were useful and made our activities safer. He quoted from the Morag Tong Charter; honestly, I don''t believe he even owned a genuine copy of this rare, nearly impossible-to-obtain tome. But according to Rasha''s version, the assassin was supposed to present the Writ publicly at the crime scene after carrying out the sentence. Under these circumstances, the "honorable murderer" was not to be arrested by the authorities or attacked by any witnesses. I use terms like "murderer" and "crime" because, deep down, I firmly believe that such acts are ordinary crimes¡ªwhether or not they are accompanied by an "honorable" piece of parchment.


    Anyway, regardless of any edict of the Morag Tong Charter, all these were very bad and twisted; the Dark Brotherhood''s operations are not about safety or bound by the mortals'' laws... Moreover, in our Creed, there is nothing about writings; it speaks only of total obedience to Our Lady''s thoughts and desires, and, in particular, of the absolute secrecy that must surround both the deed and its executor¡ªsecrecy, not declarations of public approval or legal sanction from those who hold power in this world.


    Oh, a new wave of bad feelings washed over me! In my mind, took shape the thought that we were nothing more than comedians, dancing to the Duchess''s tune and mocking our Lady, who is always watching and reflecting upon the deeds of her worshippers. Furthermore, we operated under the banner of the Morag Tong¡ªyet the Tong had long since been dissolved by Mephala Herself, replaced by the Dark Brotherhood...


    Aside from these sacred matters, more practical social issues began to emerge. Our operatives began to use the Writs freely, no longer trying to stay hidden. It was enough to follow the target until they were near a sergeant on duty, then strike, fulfilling the contract. Afterward, they would present that absurd piece of parchment to the guards and seek refuge under their protection, shielding themselves from any potential retaliation by witnesses. For me, this procedure felt embarrassing and blasphemous¡ªutterly unlike the methods and rituals that had once defined our Brotherhood.


    Soon, these deeds became widely known, and the citizens of Cheydinhal were quick to grasp the meaning behind the sudden surge of crime sweeping through the town. I still can''t comprehend how Rasha could have been so naive in this regard... As the Minister of Internal Affairs in a state with harsh laws, he was already feared by most of the city''s inhabitants, yet these new measures made him the most despised figure in Cheydinhal. True, among the Dunmer who lived here, some recognized the methods of an organization they had once respected; these swiftly extended their support and sympathy to those bearing an "Honorable Writ of Execution." But, as one might expect, this caused a deep rift between the two large communities, which had, until then, coexisted peacefully.


    The limit of my patience was reached when Rasha handed me one such Writ and asked me to leave it by the target''s body once the contract was completed. I could no longer keep quiet. I threw the document to the floor and demanded the summoning of the Black Hand for that afternoon. To my surprise, Rasha was gentle, almost understanding. After picking up the document, he put his hands on my shoulders and said, "It will be as you wish, my dear."


    But the outcome of that meeting was far from what I expected. Garnag, with his stupid Orc grin, and Pontius, with his equally foolish expression, supported adopting Morag Tong''s infamous and ridiculous method. Cicero, on the other hand, refrained from expressing his opinion. He seemed distant from us, and that did not surprise me too much; for some time, Cicero had begun to change¡ªbecoming closed off and suspicious of others. It all started when he was given the unfortunate contract to kill that stupid clown who had mocked the Duchess and her politics in every tavern and market of the town. But I won''t get into that story now, though it''s quite interesting and significant for what came next. Those scholars who are interested can find the tale in Cicero''s journal, which, I understand, has become relatively widely distributed in copies.


    In any case, I did not protest or challenge the decision made by the acting Black Hand. Once we were alone, I silently invited Rasha to follow me. I took his hand and led him to our Mother''s sarcophagus. There, I drew my dagger and cut my palm. I pressed my bloody hand against the bronze casing that protected Mother''s body, and while holding his hand, I spoke with a low voice:


    "With all my heart, I want to help you, Rasha. I''d give my life for you, if it would make a difference. But I swear, by the holy body of our Lady, that I will commit no more crimes... not like this. Because what we are doing now are ordinary crimes, serving a policy that will, without a doubt, grind us into its machinery once it has achieved its goals. Please forgive me, brother!"


    Rasha studied me with a piercing gaze, then let out a long, resigned sigh. "Let it be as you wish, Elsie. You know that I love you more than anything else, and I wish you no harm. But you''re wrong; the Duchess will support our Brotherhood in exchange for the services we render in the name of an organization that, in reality, no longer exists. Take a break for now, and come see me whenever you feel ready." He patted me gently on the head, saluted me, and walked away.


    I remained by the sarcophagus, reaching out for some omen, some guidance. I begged our Lady to speak, to show me the path we were meant to follow¡ªbut nothing came. I stayed there alone, until dawn''s first light finally dispelled the night''s shadows; and I felt the silence like a reproach. I thought of everything I had done in the last weeks; all in the name of an organization that no longer resembled our ancient, sacred Brotherhood which once served a divine purpose. Clearly, I was nothing more than a common criminal, no better than any cutthroat roaming the streets...


    A few weeks of uneasy quiet followed that day... In the meantime, I took it upon myself to teach Courtney how to read. To my surprise and delight, my friend was an exceptional student! I couldn''t help but remember the tremendous struggles I faced in my early days as a learner in my mother Alisanne''s mansion during those long-gone years; the connection between the spoken and written word seemed so elusive to me! Though I had mastered the alphabet, it took countless hours of hard work from my tutors to help me grasp this art! But Courtney, after no more than ten days of study, could easily comprehend and spell relatively complicated texts. Not long after, she began asking for more books...


    We went together to the Mephala temple searching for writings, but the priests looked at us with surprise, explaining that their tradition was strictly oral. The written word, they said, only served to tarnish the relationship with the divinity. I was taken aback, but since they were Dunmer, I assumed this must have been part of their ancient cultural practices. Now, however, I know I was wrong¡ªterribly wrong; later, I would uncover treasures of holy texts from their cultural heritage that had been carefully hidden away.


    We then tried Arkay''s temple, where the priests directed us to an old man who was in charge of the temple''s huge library. Ah, there we discovered a cultural treasure¡ªmade available to the general public without any obligation or payment! Anyone who wished could peruse any book from the countless shelves filling the library, all in the comfort of a spacious room dotted with dozens of desks. That chamber was almost always empty, and Courtney soon became a frequent visitor, eagerly devouring a vast array of writings, spending her days in the quiet solitude of the study room...


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    Meanwhile, during this time, I resumed my meditative walks through Cheydinhal, hoping to find some peace and serenity in its once-beautiful parks. But the town had changed; it was no longer the same place we had walked through that spring night. People had become uneasy, their once solicitous and serious expressions now replaced with suspicion; their eyes, once open and welcoming, now flashed with fear or hatred. The news of the Imperial City''s fall to the elves struck Cheydinhal''s people like a thunderbolt, leaving a deep, oppressive silence in its wake. While the court celebrated the victory of the allies, the town''s inhabitants were gripped by horror and anger, repulsed by the reports of atrocities committed by the Altmeri in the newly conquered town. Multiple versions circulated, but most claimed that the elves had not left many of the inhabitants of the martyred city alive. Some hopeful souls whispered that the Emperor had escaped, and that His Imperial Majesty would rally the northern legions to punish the elves for their crimes...


    In those unsettling days, I also had my first experience of walking into a tavern and witnessing, as if on cue, all patrons rise and leave in unison. The innkeeper, excessively polite and overly benevolent, greeted me, but in his eyes and soul I saw and felt only fear and contempt. In the marketplace, too, it was impossible to escape the whispers... Words like "murderous whore", "elves'' servant" or "butcher''s bitch" hissed behind my back. I never attempted to confront the perpetrators, nor did I feel hatred toward them; I simply interrupted my walks, retreated to the Sanctuary, and, to feel closer to our Mother, changed my place of rest.


    I was now living with my three brothers in the old dormitory in the basement of our mansion, and, naively, I hoped that being so close to her sarcophagus would somehow encourage our Lady to speak to me and show me the right way. It was a grim place to stay, to be honest: two of the other inhabitants, Garnag and Pontius, spent their days endlessly playing dice and trying to drain the barrels of beer that filled our shared bedroom. And Cicero... oh, Cicero!¡ªhe lived and slept beside Mother''s sarcophagus, lying on the cold, unforgiving stone floor. It was a struggle to get any rest in such a narrow, cold space, but our Keeper seemed utterly unbothered by all these discomforts. He devoted himself entirely to tending to the sarcophagus and Mother''s body during the day, and spent his nights dreaming beside them. Cicero appeared to take great satisfaction in his duties, but when I tried to approach him, seeking advice or even just a talk, he grew increasingly hostile, as though my words were an insult to our Unholy Mother''s will... His eyes would narrow, his hands started to tremble and, above all, he became more distant with each passing day, as if he had seen or heard something that none of us could...


    At first, I thought it was merely devotion¡ªan obsession born from his boundless loyalty to our Lady. But soon, I realized that something was whispering to him in the dark! His lips would move soundlessly when he thought himself alone, and at times, I caught him laughing under his breath, like someone savoring a private joke only he could hear. Whenever I tried to listen, he would stop abruptly, his gaze flickering toward me with veiled suspicion. Yet, he never banished me from his little sanctuary; on the contrary, he insisted that I visit more often, though he refused to answer any of my questions...


    Cicero no longer allowed anyone, except me, to enter the small sacred room, whose door he always locked when necessity forced him to leave it. In the beginning I thought it was only to protect Mother''s body; later, I began to suspect that he was also guarding something else¡ªa secret shared only between him and our unseen Mistress. One night, I awoke to find him standing by the sarcophagus, whispering in a voice that was nothing like his own. It was low, slithering, full of venom and delight; oh, it sounded eerily like my own voice in the Grand Temple at Bravil, on that unforgettable day when time and space shattered for a moment! Then, suddenly, his head jerked toward me.


    "Did you know, my dear sister," he murmured, his voice honeyed with mockery, "that some things refuse to die even when they are slain? But our Mother sees all, and She does not forget... nor does She forgive!"


    I ran; his laughter echoed in the chamber long after I had fled back to my bed, its echo seeping into my bones. That night, for the first time, I realized with absolute certainty¡ªCicero was no longer just our Keeper. He had become something else. Something far more dangerous; a divine and sanctified tool!


    In one of those confusing days for me, Pontius returned from his wanderings through the city and brought us the news that the war was finally over. The martial law that had oppressed the city for so long was lifted, and the city gates stood wide open to the outside world once more.


    And Courtney took full advantage of that; in those days when I exiled myself in the Sanctuary, she often went out on her own to hunt¡ªor rather, to wander through the dense forests around Cheydinhal. From what she later told me, I learned that during this time, she had honed her innate ability to communicate with wild animals and often slept in the woods, where Courtney seemed to have found a new, comfortable home for herself. While I sought redemption in the stillness of Mother''s sarcophagus, my dear friend found peace in the rustling leaves and the cries of distant animals. I envied her, in a way; she found answers in the weald, where I could only see beasts, damp soil, and ancient trees... Or fallen leaves and glistening streams...


    It was during this time that a Dominion embassy was established in the city, and soon after, Imperial agents, spies and hired assassins began to infiltrate the streets and taverns, igniting riots and systematically eliminating the most notorious members of our Morag Tong. One day, an enraged mob stormed the elvish embassy, and it was only a matter of time before the ambassador was dragged from his office and lynched by the furious crowd. But the city guards swiftly intervened, quelling the riot in a brutal bloodbath; in the aftermath, countless arrests were made, and many were sentenced to death or thrown into the city''s prison.


    I was also told that violent clashes often flared between the two dominant communities that made up the city''s population, with the guards invariably siding with the elves, a division that seemed to deepen with every passing day. This, at least, seemed strange and even incomprehensible to me, for Dunmer and Altmeri had never been true friends, nor even sincere allies; they had always been, at best, uneasy neighbors¡ªuntil now. It seemed the Imperial population had finally reached the breaking point of their forbearance! Or perhaps... this was never truly about the elves and the Imperials; not just about Altmer and Dunmer. In times like these, no one is truly innocent¡ªno, not one! We, those of us who kill for a living, no matter the form or the justification, are all guilty! And as black as sin itself...


    Not long after these events, the first assassination attempt on my brother, Rasha, took place. His group was ambushed in broad daylight on a street that had been deliberately blocked just before his passage. My brother narrowly escaped¡ªalmost by miracle¡ªas the crowd bustling through the streets took the side of the assassins, who struck with chilling professionalism. But, fortunately, a small detachment of heavy cavalry was nearby, thwarting their meticulously laid plans. None of the assassins could be taken alive, and another bloodbath followed!


    Rasha, however, was seriously wounded in the attack. When I found out, I could no longer bear the separation from my brother, a dissociation I had forced upon myself until then. The weight of my guilt and worry became unbearable, and I left the Sanctuary at once, clad head to toe in Morag Tong armor, the Lucky Dagger strapped to my side for all to see, and the crossbow in hand. With fierce determination, I carved my way through the hostile mob, parting them like a blade, until I reached my brother''s villa.


    Relieved, I found the mansion''s gates guarded by a platoon of soldiers, and a small detachment of mounted lancers stationed in the courtyard.


    I stormed into his bedroom to find Rasha lying in bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses. I ordered them all to leave, and when the room was finally empty, I threw myself onto his bed, crying and sobbing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and, gently stroking my hair, whispered, "It''s not that bad, Elsie. Just a few scratches..."


    "From now on, I will always be by your side, Rasha! I''ll be your shadow, your slave, and I''ll protect you from everyone. I''ll do anything you ask of me..." I promised, my words choked by tears.


    I then ordered the servants to bring an additional bed into Rasha''s room and to gather in the courtyard. I called the doctors one by one, carefully observing their responses and movements. I dismissed the ones who seemed unsure and selected two to remain, then sent all the nurses away. After ensuring no one could enter or leave Rasha''s room without my permission, I moved to the courtyard, where I examined the gathered servants. I kept only the cook, the housemaid, and a groom, then turned my thoughts to Courtney, wondering where she was now. I needed her more than ever...


    And, strange as it was, my friend rushed through the gate of Rasha''s villa late that evening! Her hair was tangled with leaves and dry herbs, her clothes were crumpled and filthy, but her eyes sparkled with life, and a huge smile lit up her face as she threw herself into my arms. And then, as we sat embraced in the garden, both of us cried like two proper girls should...


    We took turns tending to Rasha, always one of us staying awake and watching over him. His condition worsened rapidly, and a terrible fever took hold of his already weakened body, drained by blood loss. Worse still, one day, I caught the cook trying to poison the soup I had ordered to be prepared for him! I couldn''t allow this to go on any longer and I made the desperate decision to move him to our Brotherhood''s Sanctuary, convinced it would be the only place where he would be safe.


    The doctors protested vehemently, but I disregarded their objections. That very day, I ordered Rasha to be moved to his carriage, which Courtney and I loaded with pillows and covered the windows with wooden boards torn from the villa''s interior walls. With a heavy heart, we began the slow journey to the Sanctuary, surrounded by the cavalry detachment stationed at Rasha''s villa.


    Our journey was fraught with danger; the city''s once peaceful streets had transformed into a chaotic, unsafe place. It felt as though I wasn''t even in Cheydinhal anymore¡ªthe quiet, clean city I had known had become a seething mass of anger and unrest. Crowds of furious citizens roamed the streets, showing open contempt and hatred.


    Now, I realize that the Imperial population had many reasons for their anger, but, in my opinion, the Emperor made an unforgivable mistake when he sent his secret service to operate in Cheydinhal. To counteract the threat, the Duchess had invited the Dominion''s secret police, the so-called Thalmor, to establish a presence here. Its agents were cruel, arrogant, and ruthless; their methods of investigation alienated the already restless populace. Mass arrests were common, and the interrogations were brutal¡ªunlike anything any citizen of the Empire could have imagined. Those who were lucky enough to be released from the Thalmor Prison returned home battered and broken, further fueling the people''s hatred for the Duchess and her supporters. Strangely, the Imperial spies and saboteurs, who were once seen as villains, had suddenly become heroes in the eyes of the common folk, who began to protect and assist them. But this only worsened the situation, intensifying the Duchess''s repressive measures...


    All along our journey, we were met with jeers, insults, and even objects thrown from windows at our carriage and its escort. I feared another ambush, like the one that had nearly claimed my brother''s life and, despite the danger to Rasha''s health, I ordered the crew to increase speed. After what felt like an eternity of fear and anxiety, we finally arrived at the Sanctuary and carefully transported Rasha to the brightest room in the building. I breathed a sigh of relief and immediately began organizing the Sanctuary''s activities to care for and protect my brother. I ordered all contracts that had not yet begun to be postponed and set up a permanent guard by Rasha''s bed. I chose Garnag and Pontius as permanent guardians of my ill brother; and they were to answer with their lives for any threat to Rasha''s life. The following days passed in uneasy calm, though my brother''s condition did not improve.


    A few members of our Brotherhood, who had been on missions, returned to the Sanctuary one by one. Having trustworthy people around us gave me a slight sense of relief; but the respite was short-lived. Nephatah summoned me to the palace to report on the situation. She greeted me coldly and immediately voiced her displeasure with the state of peace and order in the capital. She also accused my brother of gross negligence regarding the presence and actions of the Imperial agents in the city; I couldn''t defend him. I merely informed her that I was only a member of the organization Rasha led, not involved in the operations of the ministry he headed. I also told her about his deteriorating health, stating that my brother was in critical condition.


    Nephatah looked at me with sharp eyes and, after a long silence, told me that from now on, she would take full control of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. She ordered me to coordinate the Morag Tong''s activities and fulfill my brother''s duties until his recovery.


    But she didn''t stop there. The Duchess entrusted me with a special task¡ªone she claimed was critical for the peace of her lands. A rogue southern baron, a border warlord who had recently declared his independence from the duchy, had to be eliminated; he was deeply connected to the Dominion, so special precautions would need to be taken.

 Chapter 18 or A Sacred Event

    That contract regarding Baron Herbert Iovanovic and his eldest son, Darius, the Lord''s scion, and Na-Baron... I shudder at the mere remembrance! For one, it wasn''t even a contract in the strictest sense, according to the traditions and doctrine of the Dark Brotherhood; it was, in fact, a double assassination ordered by Duchess Nephatah Indarys. Additionally, this mission seemed like the most difficult task of my life till then. Despite being fully aware of my skills¡ªskills I knew could handle the job¡ªI was young and still inexperienced enough. Especially regarding life in the wild and its surroundings!


    The matter that unsettled me the most was the certainty that I was about to commit two politically motivated murders, ordered by a mortal who had arrogated to herself the power to decide life and death over others. A dreadful premonition gnawed at me, warning that Mephala would disapprove of my actions, whether I executed them personally or merely planned and directed them.


    Something in the Duchess''s gaze during our last meeting also disturbed me; her behavior, the way she looked at me¡ªthere was something off. She dismissed my brother''s services too quickly, and this didn''t sit right with me. I started to wonder if she had already grown tired of us¡ªthe so-called Morag Tong¡ªand whether, perhaps, she had already decided we were no longer of use. But no matter how uneasy I felt, one thing was certain: my brother''s life and position rested on the success of this mission; or so I firmly believed in those uncertain days...


    I returned to the Sanctuary, troubled and filled with ominous forebodings, and I locked myself in a room with Cicero and Pontius to consult with them and plan the execution of the contract. The Duchess advised me to seek the support of the Baron''s younger son, the young Sullius. According to her opinion, he was destined to inherit his father''s position in a certain situation and was directly interested in the mission''s success. While Pontius was excited about having a potential ally within the targeted family, Cicero was cautious and suggested that we should not reveal our intentions and identities to this young man. He also advised delaying the planning of the action until we were sufficiently informed about the baron''s residence and his family.


    Following Cicero''s opinion, I went to Arkay''s temple library to make notes on the two key points. From the Cyrodiil Nobility Yearbook, I learned that the baron hailed from an old family, with an unbroken line of warriors stretching back centuries; their reputation as skilled and fortunate fighters was well-known. The Empire had entrusted this family with the defense and control of the southeastern frontier, where Black Marsh bordered Cyrodiil; their residence was a wooden fortress along the Panther River. The Illustrated Atlas of Tamriel revealed that the stronghold stood on a small hill, surrounded by a swampy, forested expanse, with only one road leading to it¡ªa narrow, winding path that cut through the flooded marshes, occasionally crossing wooden bridges or platforms.


    I also discovered, to my unease, that the baron was half-Orc; his mother, a renowned Orc princess from the north, had married into their family. Intrigued, and troubled, I spent some time reading about Orcs and their way of life, particularly their mysterious strongholds hidden deep within the mountains. What truly unsettled me, however, were the Wise Women of Orc society¡ªespecially since, according to the Yearbook, the baron''s mother was still alive. And it was to be expected that she was such a Wise Woman... This worried me deeply, for I had read that these female shamans were highly skilled in various magical disciplines, with the art of Illusion being one of their specialties. I dug deeper into their practices and discovered they held Malacath in the highest regard. All Orcs revere Malacath, their patron and protector¡ªharsh though he may be... But, please, friends, show me a benevolent Daedra, if you can! The Wise Women, however, manifest a complete devotion to Malacath, one that borders on fanaticism; I also found rumors of a secret cult among them, an obscure doctrine known only by Orcs and linked directly to Him. This cult''s influence was said to reach far beyond their hidden strongholds, though few knew its true scope.


    Armed with this new knowledge, I returned to the Sanctuary that evening, eager to resume the mission planning as soon as possible. Cicero was waiting for me in the garden, just by the porch. That struck me as odd, as he had rarely left his lair since he had been appointed Keeper, and only for justified reasons. Pale and visibly agitated, his eyes darted around nervously before he approached me. He asked me to come to his den¡ªthe sarcophagus room. I stopped, surprised, and looked him in the eye. Cicero, who used to forbid anyone from entering Mother''s quarters, now stood before me, looking like an eager puppy, begging me to accompany him there!


    I asked him, with authority, what was going on and why he wasn''t following his usual schedule. He met my gaze with a triumphant, yet shocked expression, his voice low and soft as he whispered, "Dear sister, our Mother has spoken to me! And She wants to speak to you too; She asked me to bring you to her urgently!"


    Still glancing around suspiciously, he continued, "In fact, Our Lady has been speaking to me every night for some time now. I told Rasha about that, but he just laughed in my face, said they were just dreams of a confused mind, and told me to rest more, to stop imagining things. But I''m not dreaming, dear sister¡ªour Mother is truly talking to me! She wants us to return to the old ways, to abandon the false path we''ve taken. And I, Cicero, am the bearer of Her message! Today, She asked me to bring you to her!"


    I took a deep breath, gently grasped his hands in mine, and looked him directly in the eyes. I could easily see into Cicero''s simple, honest mind¡ªthere was no deceit there. His love and loyalty to our Mother were clear, as was his unwavering devotion to carry out Her wishes. There was no trickery, no pretense in him; he believed wholeheartedly in every word he said. I released his hands and said softly, "I believe you, Cicero. I''m certain that Our Lady is speaking to you, but we must proceed cautiously. First, we need to understand the true meaning of her words. Only then should we consider sharing them with the others."


    "Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart, my beloved sister," Cicero sighed gratefully, his voice trembling.


    With tears in his eyes, he hugged me tightly. I couldn''t help but gently stroke his hair, holding him a little longer than I probably should have... But it was that kind of embrace one gives to a helpless child unexpectedly struck by a cruel illness... Because deep within his soul, I once again felt the Void!


    I passed into this dreadful realm for the second time in my life, though I had not truly wished that... My curiosity, my carelessness, got the better of me and drew me to walk into the Darkness¡ªor perhaps better said, into the realm beyond Darkness¡ªonce more!


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    On the far side of the plane bathed in the dim rays of the Black Sun, amidst the silvery webs, the Mother first appeared. Withered by time and sorrow, full of compassion and love, She spoke to me and wept. I lingered in Her cold embrace for a while, until, from the uncanny mist embroidered with false luminaries, came Her Highness¡ªthe Queen of Oblivion.


    Oh, my friends, this avatar of Mephala is truly magnificent! But also disdainful and merciless towards mortals of any kind... The Mother held my hands tightly as She stayed with us, and the Queen... The Queen stared at me coldly, offering no pity as She dictated Her will. I shivered, filled with repulsion; but the monarch was adamant and didn''t wish to spare me of the ultimate and greatest misery.


    The Mother wept, yet the Queen remained resolute and grim under the web spun by the Spider¡ªwho, of course, was there as well. The Spider would never miss such an opportunity to reunite the Trinity!


    Finally, my mind returned from its unpleasant and dangerous journey; I wasn''t as terrified as I had been the first time, but I was still overwhelmed by a confusing blend of emotions¡ªtoo complex to fully express. However, I will try to enumerate some of the clearest: I felt boundless love for the Mother; a profound respect that could easily be mistaken for fear toward the Queen, the great schemer and ruler of all that exists in the dark realms of the Daedric plane; and disdain, mingled with rejection, for the supreme Spider, who ensnares us all in its deceitful webs.


    And right then, after the three aspects of Mephala were reunited in my honor, I was struck by a vision so strong that nearly made me faint. A sharp precognition overwhelmed me, granting a blurred glimpse into the future of the Dark Brotherhood. In that vision, I saw myself¡ªsoulless, yet exalted¡ªseated as the High Priestess of Sithis'' cult, ruling over both men and mer from an ivory throne. A mad Cicero sat at my feet, purring like a contented cat, whispering fervently to our Unholy Mother. I trembled with unease, yet a strange excitement thrummed within me, for I beheld the grandeur of my apparition in the Grand Plaza of Bravil, right near the statue of The Lucky Old Lady. I also understood, that the souls of the three of us¡ªmine, Elsie''s, the accursed one, a wanted murderer and thief; Rasha''s, the False Speaker of Cheydinhal, a glorified thug; and Cicero''s, the Holy Keeper, madness incarnate, and a tool of the divinity¡ªwould form the matrix from which the new Brotherhood would emerge. The new Dark Brotherhood, the one without a Listener, the one that would shape Tamriel according to Her will...


    While I was still shivering under the weight of my vision, my beloved Mistress, Nocturnal, appeared in a hurry and started to talk to me; I listened with indifference to Her hasty plea, which tried to explain to me that everything happening was entirely my fault and that She was in no way involved in these events, which were more related to a band of criminals than to the reasoning of a superior being like Herself. I grinned in Her face and declared that, besides being a monster, She was above all a cowardly monster. I also asked Her not to bother me again until the final act of this sinister play was fully performed... Lady Luck didn''t giggle shamelessly as usual but simply said, "When everything is over, come and rest for a while in your mansion from my realm... Courage, little dove!"


    And She left lightly, leaving a trace of sadness behind... No final embrace... No word of solace. No explanation! Nocturnal, who once enveloped me in Her eternal shadow and protected me, had now granted me nothing but a big lie followed by a quick departure. Was this all I was to Her? A fleeting memory for Her amusement? A tool handed without regret to Her beloved friend Mephala?


    I tried then to regain my composure and mental peace; it was very difficult because it is not easy for a mortal being to face any of Mephala''s manifestations. And Nocturnal didn''t help at all with all Her excuses, which sounded as hollow as the shadow itself... But Cicero was gazing at me with so much hope and love that I began to feel better and think about what we were supposed to do in the near future.


    "Come, brother!" I said to Cicero, who, puzzled, asked me to follow him to his nook.


    "It''s not necessary, brother... Our Mother has spoken to me!"


    He stopped as if stung by a wasp and looked at me with disbelief and fear.


    "The Words...?" he asked timidly.


    "Ah, the Words... oh yes, how could I forget that I must say them?" I bitterly laughed.


    "Darkness rises when silence dies!" I whispered and looked at him sadly.


    His eyes filled with naive, childish joy. I saw tears streaming from his pure blue eyes; he fervently squeezed my hands and said, "The Listener... We have a Listener!"


    "No, brother, I am not a Listener. I am the mother of a new family that will be born in the future, amid the snow and ice, far, far away, somewhere on the Sea of Ghosts shores!"


    "Of course! Of course, esteemed Lis..., beloved mother!" he sighed deeply.


    We both watched hand in hand the sun setting in the blood-red west for a while and then I said, "Come, brother."


    We went together to Rasha''s room, where Courtney and Garnag were keeping vigil over him. I stopped by my brother''s bed of suffering and said, "Goodbye, brother, and get well soon! For me and the Brotherhood! For our Mother as well..."


    Rasha moaned softly in his feverish dreams and seemed to want to open his eyes, but nothing more happened. I took then Courtney aside and entrusted her with overseeing the Sanctuary''s affairs, asking her to watch over everyone in my absence; I also insisted that she keep my departure secret for as long as possible. As I had perhaps already mentioned, something in Nephatah''s behavior unsettled me deeply and I decided to leave the town unnoticed and unseen... I apologized for the heavy burden I was placing on her shoulders, and though I was deeply troubled by this decision, no other soul around seemed fit for such a task.


    Together with Cicero, I then entered the basement of the old Sanctuary and, under some pretext, sent Pontius away. I took Cicero to the sarcophagus and, asking him to kneel, I uttered the Words of Initiation, beginning a cycle destined to last centuries, far beyond my time in this world. It was something special as he was the first in a long series of adepts; and maybe because Cicero was so deeply moved by the sacredness of the moment...


    Our Unholy Mother smiled at both of us, and at the end, I said, "Rise, First among the Faithful! Our Mother loves you the most among all her children and wishes to have you by her side always! I, Elsie, in the name of our Mother, now dissolve the Black Hand, which will never exist again! I, Elsie, in the name of our Mother, appoint you as the Keeper of our Lady!"


    Transfigured, Cicero kissed my hand and said, "I feel Her within me, my beloved mother, and I know She will never speak to me again! But I am so happy...


    "No, brother, our Mother will never speak to you again until you are entirely Hers; you must open your mind to Her, surrender your entire being... You must become the First Sacrifice! And then, She will always be with you, whispering in the silence, waiting in the shadows; you will be Her only vessel in this world. "


    Cicero began to smile and weep at the same time and I continued: "But beware, brother, and be patient. Our Lady will work Her will on you at Her own pace, in Her own time. Do not speak of what has happened here yet; first, let us settle the matters of the past. Only then, together, will we be able to guide our sisters and brothers to the true path of the Brotherhood."


    Cicero nodded, his arms wrapping around me in a warm embrace, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you, mother," he whispered. "I promise to be calm and wise, to understand our Lady''s will and ensure it is fulfilled."


    Thus began our collaboration that was supposed to be secret, a silent conspiracy meant to steer the Brotherhood back to its true purpose. However, for now, seeing to the Duchess'' request became my primary concern...

 Chapter 19

    For my brother''s sake, the mission entrusted by the Duchess had to be done.


    I prepared myself for the journey, letting aside any planning; at dusk, under the soft and dense rain of delicate spider threads, that leisurely fell from the old poplars guarding the secret exit from the Sanctuary, like the ashes sprinkled from a funerary urn, I emerged into the narrow valley now bathed in the dying sun''s light.


    I slipped silently past the ancient, moss-covered walls of Cheydinhal and glanced nostalgically at the gate through which we had first entered the city, then continued my way to the ducal stables near the town. Patiently, I waited there until nightfall, and then, walking stealthily, I crept into one of the barns. I chose a bay horse and, after caressing and calming it with whispered words and mostly with my gaze, I mounted and set off at a gallop, leaving behind the two soldiers who just woke up and stared in astonishment as I rushed like a shadow through the open gate. I galloped for hours on the Blue Road under Secunda''s faint light, and when dawn began to flame the horizon, Corbala River was already behind me. I let my lathered steed trot; soon, a sparse forest appeared on the left. There, I pulled up and rested until noon, then resumed my journey, always heading south at a steady gait, lost in thought about my mission.


    I was worried... I already knew I would have to deal with the swamp people in their own realm, a matter that unsettled me deeply; as a city girl, I had never even seen a marsh. Without a doubt, the narrow path leading to the Baron''s fortress was being watched and patrolled thoroughly. In such lands, any stranger is met with suspicion, and eventually, hatred. So, it was to be expected that, even if I managed to slip past the outer sentries and guards, the people living in the village surrounding the fort would question me and distrust my presence. On the other hand, I couldn''t imagine how I''d manage to sneak into the keep itself¡ªsurely it was heavily guarded, especially considering the border zone and the recent war.


    And above all, the swamp... Depending on the situation, the swamp is either a terrible enemy or an invaluable ally. For newcomers¡ªspecifically for aggressors¡ªthe marsh is a dangerous foe; it would slow their movements, sicken them, and decimate their ranks. Or lead them straight into the hands of the patrol!


    I tried to push all my concerns aside, repeating in my mind: ''I shall not think of these now; I''ll worry about them later.'' Over and over again, until¡ªbit by bit¡ªmy worries eased, and I continued my journey a little more at ease.


    After crossing the bridge arching over the muddy waters of the Silverfish River, I dismounted and unsaddled the horse, removing any trace of its belonging. Then, I let it go free a bit further from the Yellow Road. The animal began to peacefully graze the lush grass on the riverbank, and I plunged into the dense forest over which the shadows of dusk were starting to fall.


    I stopped by an old and thick tree, so ancient that it seemed a true patriarch of the forest, and changed my clothes, leaving all the things I had brought in one of the deep, moss-filled hollows that furrowed the tree trunk.


    The path to Fire Moth, the baron''s residence, stretched ahead of me, cleared and well-maintained, generally following the gentle course of the river, which allowed me to advance easily almost the entire night under Masser and Secunda''s light. The forest rustled under the breeze from the east, which, after a while, began to carry the pungent scents of the swamps. I stopped by the riverbank and muddied my face and the worn clothes I wore, then tied up my hair and put on the specially prepared wig, previously sprinkled with sand taken from the riverbed.


    When dawn began to break and the swamp mists ahead of me started to rise like a shadowy wall, I left the road and looked for a resting place among the trees, which were now different, filled with the abundant vegetation of the swamp, with branches painfully contorted towards the light, towards the sky that seemed so far away in this misty land at any season. I quickly consumed the provisions I had brought with me, and then, wrapped in my cloak, I slept until noon, when I resumed my journey towards Fire Moth. More cautiously and trying to walk as painfully as possible, as something was wrong with one of my legs.


    Not long after, I spotted a wooden guard tower overlooking the road, and at the top of it was an archer observing the surroundings. Two soldiers were playing dice at the base of that tower and, after giving me indifferent glances, resumed their game. I went straight to them and, with a sad voice, asked for some food... One of them, the younger one, cursed and picked up a stone from the ground, but the other restrained his hand and asked me to come closer.


    He took a piece of bread from his bag and offered it to me. I approached shyly and with a limping step, adopting a pained expression, contorting my mouth, and crossing my eyes; I grabbed the piece of bread and began to bite into it like an animal, swallowing large chunks almost without chewing. I sat on the ground and continued to eat, staring at them all the while.


    The older one seemed to be a seasoned soldier, a veteran of the endless battles from this uncertain frontier, while the younger one appeared to be a novice in arms, as it seemed to me. His hands were soft, and the typical calluses of those who have used weapons for many years were not present.


    I studied their weapons: a heavy club, a short spear, and a dagger... Ah, and each had a blowpipe for poisoned darts, as is common among the swamp people! All were in excellent condition.


    Their armor was worn and not even identical; only the archer in the watchtower seemed better equipped in this regard.


    While I was eating, the older one, the one who had given me alms, asked what I was doing in those parts. I started laughing foolishly and told him I wanted to get married and was looking for a husband. The younger one burst into laughter, but the older one looked at me with pity and shook his head, saying:


    "War... When will all this end?"


    I fixed my gaze into his eyes and I could read fatigue and sadness in his soul, maybe even pity for me; there was something else too; his deep memory revealed a little girl with short blonde hair lying full of blood and with closed eyes on the side of a dusty road¡ªand a boy which was crying near her tormented body...


    I forced myself and began to shed tears while asking him if I could join them on their way back to Fire Moth when their guard duty ended, saying that I was afraid of the swamp beasts. He nodded and told me to sit a bit further from the watchtower. I pretended to sleep while they resumed their activity; well, all soldiers worldwide have the habit of endlessly playing dice in their spare time, but these two had something special that made me think. They didn''t drink like all mercenaries do in similar situations... I thought that perhaps the discipline imposed by the baron was something extraordinary since soldiers in a remote post from an area without particular dangers did not do what all soldiers do in similar situations...


    Toward evening, a group of merchants, accompanied by their servants and pack animals, appeared in the area. They were met with a thorough and conscientious check, after which, having proven their intentions, they were allowed to continue toward the baron''s fortress.


    Not long after, from the opposite direction, from Fire Moth, an impressive column of soldiers appeared; all were clothed in dirty and tattered armor, yet all carried gleaming weapons in impeccable condition... In the lead, an Argonian sergeant walked proudly, his sharp eyes meticulously scanning the surroundings. The archer climbed down from the tower and, after presenting his report to the sergeant, the guard changed, three soldiers taking the place of the present ones.


    The eldest soldier murmured something to the sergeant while gesturing toward me, and after casting a disdainful glance at me, the patrol''s leader nodded and signaled me to follow the column back to Fire Moth. Nearly a hundred soldiers marched in that column, a sight that left me very nervous; escaping this place after completing the double assassination would be far more difficult than I had anticipated. I had expected the worst, but this... this felt even worse than I had imagined!


    Since I saw no trace of a soldier on the way back, I assumed they were scattered throughout the swamp, ensuring the narrow, plank-lined path remained under constant surveillance.


    We reached the village after nightfall. The soldier who had shown me kindness handed me his bag, which still held some food, and wished me "good health". It was almost pitch dark; only here and there timid lights flickered in the windows of the surrounding houses, and somewhere ahead of me, light and noise came from an open door. It was the village tavern, where the caravan''s members who had arrived earlier were now spending the evening. I headed there and peeked inside a large room filled with the smoke from the stove where food was being cooked and the voices of those who had already started consuming the local drinks generously provided by the innkeeper, an old Argonian, and his wife.


    The tavern was packed at that hour and a true spectacle in itself; the swamp people are unlike any others, with customs that might seem strange to those unfamiliar with their way of life or who have not lived among them for long.


    Here, in this particular tavern, there was no usual clamor in such places and hours, and likewise, no one was playing gambling games; also, the merry girls who often frequent such places were nowhere to be seen. People were quite silent and somewhat grim while they consumed large quantities of strong spirits, and almost all smoked enormous, interestingly shaped pipes that exhaled a choking kind of fumes, filling the room with a tasty scent that really prompted dreaming. Little was said, and when the bearded, of short stature, men did speak, they used few words uttered in a harsh, guttural tone, using many words which were unknown to me, foreign to the common language spoken in the Imperial territories. There were also Argonians among them, and certainly, some of the strange linguistic elements came from their language.


    An exception to the general rules, universally accepted in these places, was the behavior of the caravan members who had just arrived in the locality. The chief was a relatively old Khajiit, and among them were people of all kinds, men and women alike, including two enormous orcs with huge muscles tattooed with the most colorful and artistic tattoos I had seen until then. They all seemed terribly happy and contented, probably due to the unusual properties of the drinks they were consuming in impressive quantities, and a few of them had even started to sing some of the shameless songs I knew so bloody well from Bravil''s docks. But the leader, the old Khajiit, was alert and wide sober, observing the room with alert eyes!


    I carefully observed all these while standing in the tavern door, then walked toward the fire burning in the clay stove. I did that, purposely stumbling over as many people and objects as I could to draw the innkeeper''s attention, and, after rummaging through the bag given to me by the soldier who had protected me, I began to burn, intending to roast, some big beef bones I found there. As you can easily imagine, the rather large room, already saturated with the smoke from the pipes and the meat fried for dinner, instantly filled with the unpleasant and acrid fume of the bones I was burning. The owner quickly approached me and, fixing me with a stern look, ordered me to leave immediately. I began to stutter and cry, begging him to have mercy on me, to let me warm myself by the fire and give me something to eat. But, all the while, I continued to roast the bones in the cheerful flames dancing in the hearth... The Argonian then shouted at me in irritation, and in response, I muttered some of the dirtiest curses I had heard on the docks of Bravil at him, making sure to do so in a low voice so that only he could hear. The innkeeper then grabbed my shoulder roughly and tried to throw me out of the tavern, at which point I scratched him deeply and began to scream hysterically while tears streamed down my face.


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    Furious, the Argonian seized an enormous club hanging above the stove and swung it at me. I dodged easily, but immediately collapsed to the floor, as though I''d taken the full brunt of the cudgel''s blow. I began to writhe and scream even louder than before, imploring the old Khajiit in Ta''agra to help me, begging him not to let a sister of his kin be beaten by a foreigner. Surprised, he stood up at once and grabbed the innkeeper''s hand just as he was preparing to strike again.


    "Let her be, master! Allow me to speak with her, I beg you," he said, at which the Argonian showed him his hand, bleeding from my scratches.


    The old Khajiit smiled and remarked that such behavior was common among our kin, and that he would compensate the owner appropriately for all the trouble I''d caused. He then reached out his hand to help me up, but I shrank back in fear, crying even harder, though I didn''t forget to lock my gaze on his yellow eyes.


    I saw many things in his old soul, but not a bit of compassion for me, only a spark of interest and another of curiosity, both drifting over the sea of greed that flooded the mind of this Khajiit. I instilled in his mind a vague inclination to affection, as much as the soul of this old merchant could absorb, and then, in a humble and feeble voice, I told him I was hungry and cold. He extended his hand again, and this time I took it hesitantly, keeping my eyes down and moaning softly... He led me then to the place where the caravan members were feasting and handed me a plate full of food.


    This was a difficult moment for me because, while I could cry whenever I wanted and for as long as I wished, I was not hungry at all at that moment. But I forced myself, I forced myself hard, to swallow all those greasy pieces and to occasionally sip from the jug filled with a burning drink that churned my insides. I passed the test well and then I went to the Khajiit and, after kissing his hand several times, I crawled, contorting my body, towards the fire burning in the hearth.


    The innkeeper glared at me with hatred from behind the counter; I smiled back impertinently at him and, careful not to be seen by others, showed him my claws... He started and wanted to come toward me, but changed his mind and continued grumbling while attending to his innkeeper duties.


    Ah, these innkeepers in southern Cyrodiil are another example of greed and even wickedness in this dangerous area bordering the wild territories to the east and south. So much skooma passes through their hands, their drinks are prepared in the most vile ways possible, and sometimes they hide kidnapped children from the Empire in their cellars... Maybe someday I will tell you some terrifying stories about the secret fate of these children in the laboratories of the Dominion''s mages!


    But then I just waited patiently by the fire until the caravan members had satiated their hunger and thirst, and then, when I saw them getting up to leave, I gave pleading looks to the old Khajiit. He gestured for me to follow and, with the same limping and tormented gait, I accompanied them outside into the cold and foggy night, full of the strange sounds of the swamp.


    The swamp has a life of its own, a richer and more intense life than other regions, and is cunning and unforgiving to strangers who dare to confront it, especially in the dead of night. Now, when I write all this, I know many of the dangers and mysteries of the marshes, but then it was my first encounter with such a dangerous zone, and I must admit that I feared the swamp more than the entire baron''s garrison.


    Especially, I was terribly worried about how I could escape the area after completing my mission... But, as usual in my life, I set aside worries for the future and focused on the present, striving to win the merchant''s favor.


    He took me to their camp, which was set up right in the narrow and filthy market square of the settlement, and here the old Khajiit asked me how I had ended up in these places so far from Elsweyr. I told him I had lived with my parents in Leyawiin and that after the elves conquered and looted the city, they took me with them for a while, then abandoned me on the side of a dusty road near Bravil. I told him I had begged for a while in the big city until I was chased away and then took the road north... I also lied him that my parents had been prosperous merchants in Leyawiin and that in my childhood I had learned to dance and sing, that I was skilled in appraising things coming from both the frozen north and the sun-scorched south; in short, I listed a multitude of talents that might have piqued his interest. The old Khajiit looked at me quite suspiciously for a while but didn''t take his eyes off mine, so it wasn''t hard for me to suggest without words that it would be useful for him to integrate me into his caravan''s staff. So, in the end, he handed me a thick camel hair blanket and allowed me to sleep in the tent of his servant women.


    The night passed; in the morning, the merchants set up their stalls and the locals began to come, mainly for bartering, as money was rarely in the hands of these inhabitants from the obscure fringe areas of the Empire. The merchants primarily acquired wild honey and reptile skins, so I imagined their route would continue north after they finished their business here. When the market activity became feverish because more and more locals came and haggled, I slowly moved away and, slipping carefully through the village''s narrow streets, headed towards the fortress adorning the low hill in the middle of the settlement.


    Just as I had read in the library in Cheydinhal, the fort was entirely wooden, with very tall walls but not too hard to climb for an agile person moving under the spectral light of Secunda. The gates were closed and from the nearby towers, archers watched the road winding up the hillside. A ditch, not too wide but filled with water, stretched along the palisades...


    Satisfied for the moment and understanding that I couldn''t do more now, I returned to the market where I tried all day to help the caravan members as much as possible. As evening approached, the day''s frantic activity subsided, and the old Khajiit beckoned me to come closer. He gave me a set of clothes somewhat suitable for me, and I must tell you it took him some time to search for them in the heavy saddlebags of the caravan. Then he ordered me to wash and change out of my rags into what he had given me. I did as he asked and then presented myself, smiling timidly, before my master. He looked at me, smiled, and told me that I no longer brought shame to our race! I lowered my eyes in shame and continued to strive to be as useful as possible while the caravan members packed up the goods and loaded them onto the horses'' saddlebags.


    We spent the evening in the usual manner at the village tavern, and the night passed quietly. The next morning, we resumed our activities as we had the previous day. Now the influx of buyers was even greater because, attracted by the news of the merchants'' arrival, many lone hunters from the surrounding areas had come to trade their goods with those the caravan had brought from the south.


    Around noon, I saw a richly dressed Orc woman, accompanied by two soldiers, stop in front of our stalls. Speaking the common tongue in a guttural, broken manner, she asked the old Khajiit for remedies, poisons, and other things typically sought by healers and witches.


    I set aside whatever I was doing and hurried closer. While my master displayed the specific goods she requested, I asked him about the price at which we could trade some strange products just brought in by an Argonian hunter.


    The old lady sensed my mind before even seeing or hearing me; she stopped examining the goods, turned abruptly, and looked me straight in the eye.


    I saw deep astonishment in her gaze and felt her weak powers probing my thoughts. Immediately, I put myself on guard and summoned the sweetest look I could muster. Almost instantly, I conjured in my mind a world drenched in blood¡ªvast battlefields where warriors of all kinds, but especially Orcs, clashed heroically. And there, towering between the blood-soaked lands and the smoke-darkened sky, I placed Malacath.


    Ah, just as I had seen him in a book from my mother''s vast library¡ªdraped in furs, his muscles enormous, a massive sword gripped in his right hand. I couldn''t resist coloring his right tusks red before serving the entire vision to the elderly lady.


    She visibly shuddered, her eyes flickering from astonishment to joy, then to something deeper¡ªan almost sacred ecstasy.


    "Who are you?" she asked me in the kindest voice she could muster.


    "Me...? I am just my master''s humble servant, ma''am," I stammered as convincingly as I could, timidly lowering my gaze while nervously scuffing the marketplace ground with my heel.


    "Ah, don''t mind her, lady! She''s just a wretched, weak-minded creature I took under my care out of pity!" the merchant said sweetly.


    "I wasn''t asking you," she snapped at him. Then, grabbing my hand, she asked, "Dear child, has the Master ever spoken to you? Even in a dream?"


    "Oh, merciful lady, he speaks to me every day and is very kind to me. He feeds me and lets me stay by his fire," I murmured in a low voice, looking her straight in the eyes while offering her visions pleasing to any Orc, especially related to the old and surly Malacath.


    Ah, my beloved Mistress, Nocturnal, together with her dear friend, the Queen, often amuse themselves at the thought of his angry nature... They even mock him sometimes, mock him hard as only two wasps like them can, and then flee desperately, screaming, from his rage¡ªthough either of them could easily defeat or calm him at any time!


    You see, the Daedra are very much like us. Sometimes, they enjoy childish games... Well, most of them do. Some, however, are truly terrifying. But if you think about it, you''ll realize there are just as many dreadful beings among mortals as well!


    But, once again, I digress, and I apologize for that, my friends! Let us return to our tale and see what that lady said...


    "Not your current master, but the Lord who reigns over glorious battles, richly rewarding the brave while disdainfully punishing the unworthy! Or the weak..." She laughed lightly, baring her yellowed tusks.


    "Ah, Him..." I whispered as I began to tremble more and more. "Very often, ma''am, but only in dreams! Yet his harsh voice and great, blood-stained tusks frighten me so much..."


    She let out a hearty laugh, then turned abruptly to the Khajiit and declared in a commanding tone, "I''ll buy her, sir! Name your price!"


    The merchant scratched his head for a moment, casting her cunning glances before abruptly blurting out, "Five hundred gold coins, madam! Not a copper penny less!"


    "Done! Come with me to the castle to be paid, and bring all the goods I''ve chosen!" the old Orc woman commanded.


    Immediately, I feigned panic and attempted to run, wailing desperately, "But I don''t want to go...!" Only to promptly trip over a stone and sprawl into the mud...


    One of the soldiers grabbed me roughly, hoisting me to my feet. I struggled helplessly against the steel arms locking me in place, but sensing his intent to grab my hair, I swiftly calmed down. It wouldn''t have been very proper for him to yank the wig off my head, now would it, my friends?


    The old lady approached and brusquely shoved the soldier aside, then gently took my hand¡ªthe same hand I had scraped as hard as I could against the stone.


    "Come, my dear! No one will harm you, and you will be well-fed!"


    I burst into uncontrollable tears and followed her, stumbling along behind.


    At the fortress, the merchant was paid with a plump pouch and left utterly satisfied, not even sparing me a glance, while my new mistress settled me in a massive, filthy chamber where dirty straw was strewn directly on the damp ground. The place reeked of sweat and mildew, and the beds¡ªif they could even be called that¡ªwere covered with grimy, moth-eaten blankets.


    "You will stay here until we get to know each other better!" she told me.


    "What is your name?" she then asked.


    "Ashivi, mistress!" I murmured.


    "Are you a Khajiit?" she asked, clearly surprised.


    "Yes, ma''am," I replied, pretending to be embarrassed as large tears rolled down my cheeks.


    "But that is something special... then you must be one of those Ohmes, so rare these days! Where did you spend your childhood?" she inquired, speaking such broken Ta''agra¡ªlittered with foreign words¡ªthat I could barely understand her. At the same time, she was eyeing me shrewdly...


    "In Leyawiin, madam. And my parents were merchants!" I replied in the clearest, most melodic Ta''agra I could muster.


    She was visibly pleased; her broad face lit up with the satisfaction of knowing she had not wasted so much gold in vain.


    "I am the mother of Baron Ivanovic!" she proclaimed. "And at the same time, the Wise Woman of this blessed place, this fortress filled with worthy warriors! Perhaps, using my great powers, I can heal a wretched, weak-minded creature like you. But you will serve me, and you will do only as I command!"


    With that, she turned and walked away majestically, leaving me alone for the moment.


    I lay down on one of the filthy beds in that far less inviting room¡ªless inviting, even, than the ducal stables in Cheydinhal¡ªand, for the first time in many weeks, I felt calm. Content.


    Somehow, I was beginning to sense that our Mother would not disapprove of my actions. The caravan''s arrival in the area at precisely the right moment, the ease with which I had infiltrated its ranks, the way I had deftly maneuvered the Fire Moth Wise Woman''s wild imagination, the swiftness with which I had entered the fortress¡ªnow even as one of its maids¡ªall these things made my future seem a little less grim than it had before.


    My thoughts began to race quickly, and I was greatly astonished when I realized that maybe I was stepping onto a path destined for me long before I was born...