Maya, the memoirs of a Dunmer amnesiac Options

[Linara]

Just giving this writing thing a try, anybody who reads, tell me what you think!
Nell

Chapter One-Part One
In which a Dunmer girl awakes in a cell, and is very confused.

I awoke with a splitting headache. I was cold, lying on a hard bench, in a dank room. I did not stir, experience told me it was wiser to stay still. I lay, shivering now and then, for a while. Minutes passed, then a question floated by in my head. Who was I? I pondered this lazily, and then shock hit me. I had no idea. The questions now came hard and fast: What was I? Where was I? Was this a prison? Am I a criminal?

I shifted my head the slightest bit, and looked at my arm lying on the bench. It was a dark blue, pale as the skin went higher. My hand was small and limp, and an iron shackle encircled my wrist. I felt a bolt of fear, of vulnerability. I was defenseless, and alone. I was unnamed.

For hours I kept my eyes shut, not moving, numb to all but my headache and the pressing loneliness. Several times I drifted off into oblivion, only to hear some phantom noise and start awake. Finally I felt enough was enough. I sat up, wincing as the world spun around me, and waited until the dizziness and pain in my head quieted to a dull growl.

As I peered around my cell- for what else could it be? - I heard a crooning voice.

“I must surely be dead, and in the halls of Azura to look upon such a vision. You are so beautiful, my dear Dunmer maiden...”

I craned my head, trying to make out the voices carrier. The speaker seemed to be like me, a- what had the person said? A Dunmer…- with skin much darker and greyer then mine. The figure was unmistakably male.

The Dunmer continued speaking, and I shuddered as I heard his words.

“ One of the guards owes me a favor, you know. I could get us put in the same cell. Would you like that? You should have some fun before the end. “

What end was he speaking of? Would the authorities of this place kill me for a crime that I could not remember committing?

The Dunmer’s voice grew louder and shriller, echoing in my aching head.

“Yeah, you heard me. No matter what the law says. No matter what they told you. You're going to die in here! You're going to die!”

I shivered again, and pressed myself against the wall, trying to get out of the madman’s sight. I realized that no guard lingered below to keep the prisoners in their cells, that if this Dunmer wished to do so, he could croon these foul things at me all night. My horrible predicament just became worse.

In that moment, I heard a clang of metal, and creaking. Was someone coming? Torchlight flickered against the walls and shadows rose up. Shadows of men.

The Dunmer across from me cackled, muttering something about how I would die now. As the people came into view, four of them, one thrust his elbow into the Dunmer’s cell and hit him squarely in the face.

“Shut up Dreth,” he muttered. “This will be hard enough without your insanity.”

I moved in front of the door, hoping to plead my case, and perhaps they would let me go. Instead, all four stopped the door of my cell, and one man took out keys. I realized that one of the people was a woman, in armor and with a helm on her head when she shouted; “What is this prisoner doing here? This cell was supposed to be off limits!”

One of the men, also in armor, stammered, trying to explain to the woman; “the usual mix-up at the Watch, I-I-I,”

The woman sighed, and said wearily “Excuses Glenroy, more excuses”
She looked like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it.

“Prisoner, stand over by the window!” the guard who it seemed was named Glenroy barked.

The guards didn’t seem to notice that I was barely capable of standing, let alone attack them, but I backed away, and fell on the cold stone bench with a thump.

The man who had elbowed Dreth gave me a strange look, one made of pity and curiosity, but it only lasted for a moment, then he looked away. The woman unlocked the cell door, and stepped forward. It was then that I noticed the fourth person, an old man, wearing a fine robe and a strange red jewel around his neck.

As the guards moved towards the right wall of the cell, the old man peered at me, head cocked at an angle as if he couldn’t see very well.

“You…” he breathed, “I’ve seen you, in my dreams.”

I looked at him in simple surprise, then asked in a small voice, “Do you know who I am?”

[Linara]

Remember what I said about a regular posting schedule? Well, it was all lies. Not on purpose, but there's this thing called a kernel panic... Anyway, I got sucked into Doctor Who again, and I've been writing fics for that, then school ate me, and now it's a month and a half later, and I've barely written a chapter. However, I feel guilty, and while it's not much, it is written, so I'm putting up the second part of chapter eight, which should really have a blanket title of 'Shopping in the Imperial City'. I know, I know, Baurus made a face too when I told him.

Destri: Aw, I liked the u.d.g! but it's nice to have an actual name to put with the face, er, vague description. Thanks for the nit-catching.

Subrosa: I suppose it wasn't an awful entry, but there was a sense of wonder that I wanted to enscribe into there, and it never really worked itself out... Maya's encounters with her kinsfolk are going to be fun to write, I just know it

Acadian: Yep, Teresa and Buffy are now the Bosmer standard in my head. Felt they needed a mention.

Pyrmidal: Hello there! I hope you can get a few more tips from my story than just the fact that I'm a horrible procrastinator, I think there's a little bit more than that. And Amnesia is very useful in this sort of writing, especially if you have a large plot that involves a lot of writing to put together. Hope you keep reading.

All: And here it is, part two. Read and review, that sort of thing.

Chapter Eight Part Two
For the Emperor

Over the next hour I tried on many different articles of clothing, ranging from delicate black dresses to thick brown pants that trailed past my feet. The shopkeeper, Palonirya, looked at me with sharp eyes, and was ready with an opinion on everything I tried. The rare moments that she was not flitting back and forth through her shop, searching for clothes, Palonirya was bemoaning the state of my hair.

When I looked in the ceiling tall mirror, I bemoaned my black tangled mass as well. As Palonirya put it, “It looks like you were dragged through a mud puddle backwards and then slept in a barn.” In truth, it was worse than that, and I wondered why there had not been gasping in the streets. Perhaps there was, and I was too busy staring at the city to notice it.

By the end of the hour I had decided two things: My hair needed to be chopped and burned, and I looked awful in green. Palonirya did not share the former belief, and she protested that “it only needs a thorough washing and combing!”

Baurus came in at that moment, and his eyebrows raised. I smoothed down the red skirt and shirt I was wearing nervously.

“Looks nice on you. Unfortunately we’re going to need some sturdier clothing than that. Have you got any...protective clothing? Leather, maybe some strips of chain mail?”

Palonirya bristled at the question.

“What do you take this for, an armory? This is a clothing shop. And what are you planning to do with this poor girl anyway? Take her into battle?”

Baurus looked a little embarrassed, and I wondered how he was planning on answering that question. Could he answer it? He took a deep breath, and studied Palonirya for a few moments. Then he began to speak.

“The Emperor is dead. He was assassinated about a day and a half ago. We were his...bodyguards, and we’ve been tasked to head north, to Bruma.”

If I was surprised by Baurus’s half-truth, Palonirya was stunned.

“The Emperor...d-dead?” she asked, wide-eyed. For a moment she had the look a a child who has just been betrayed by the world. Then the decades of adulthood slid back into place, and she looked at me critically.

“If you were one of the Emperor’s bodyguards then why did you come in here dressed in prison garb?”

“Camouflage.” Baurus said smoothly, saving me from what would have been a stuttering explanation that answered nothing. “We were attempting to get him into hiding.”

Palonirya nodded, and said “I’ll be a moment.” Then she slipped upstairs, and I was left to stare at Baurus.

“Why did you tell her?”

“Tell her about the Emperor? Because the Courier is probably printing up news sheets with the same story, or a dramatized version of it, and I have a feeling that Palonirya will spread the word just as fast. It saves me more explaining, because in two, three days at the latest, most of Cyrodiil will know, largely because of the three sources that now have this information.”

“Three?” I asked, putting the Courier in the back of my mind. I would ask him what it was later.

“The Legion, Palonirya, and the Courier. Most of the Legionaries gossip like old women after a few pints at a local inn.”

He smiled at his own words, and than we both turned as Palonirya came down the stairs. Or rather Palonirya’s body came down the stairs, her head was completely obscured by a large pile she was carrying. She dropped said pile at Baurus’s feet, and proclaimed “My life’s work.”

We both stared at her until she frowned.

“Go on, pick it up!” she said to me.

I bent down and peered at what seemed to be a charcoal grey leather shirt. On picking it up I discovered that there was also a pair of pants, and that the leather was not merely leather but something...thicker.

“I can feel metal in it.” I said. Palonirya looked proud.

“It’s enchanted, my dear. I had the man at Mystic Emporium do it. The strength of steel with the weight of leather. It’s also fireproof.”

Baurus looked impressed.

“What do you think?” I held the shirt up to my shoulders, and he gave a nod of approval.

“How much?” he asked Palonirya, and she shook her head.

“Nothing. And believe me, it’s hard to say that, but if you were sent by the Emperor...I couldn’t make you pay for it.”

Both Baurus and I were surprised, but there was a gentle understanding on Baurus’s face that told me the Emperor had been loved by his people, and Palonirya was no exception.

“Thank you,” he said softly, as he took the armour from my hands, and we headed out from the shop. Palonirya let us go without a word, standing alone amidst the piles of clothing with a desolate expression on her face.