Serene of Cyrodiil, her true story, chapter 1 Options

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Ok so at last I came round to do it.....posting my story that is! I must thank all of you who have encouraged me to do it (oh yes you know who you are!)

Special thanks to Treydog who has helped me with editing and also for being a sounding-board, and thus kept me writing.

I now start with the prologue of my story just to see if you think you like it and want to read more

Enjoy!

Dedication


This work is dedicated to Treydog, whose enthusiasm encouraged me to really write this story.


Prologue.

Alone at last, I close the door behind me as I enter the small room which serves as my private library. I’m proud to say that I probably have the most complete collection of books in Vvardenfell these days, though it has taken me the last seven years to get it.

As I tucked my daughter into bed a while ago, I decided that now the time had come to write down my story. Mostly for her sake, but also for me; I need to get it off my mind, in order to continue with my life and to be able to fulfill the tasks that lie before me. Then there are the numerous questions asked by the little girl lying in the next room, unaware of the fact that she’s a miracle of the Age. . Questions about why there are so few children around and why they all seem to be nearly the same age, that is, age 5 and lower. Questions about why everyone she meets looks at me, her mother, with admiration and respect. Questions about why there is a non-ending row of visitors who want to see me and so keep me from being with her, like a normal mother would be.

I know the answers to her questions, but providing those answers means I will have to tell her the whole story, the story about me, Serene of Cyrodiil, a legionnaire’s daughter of uncertain heritage, who has become one of the most powerful and famous people in Vvardenfell….

So there it is......feel free to comment, it´s a short one I know but I have to start somehow.....

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Aye..she will....in due time, but now the last part of chapter 1

Telemachos never revealed that it was I who saved his life and not Leila; that I do give him credit for. He seemed somewhat fond of me and tried to make my life in prison a little more endurable than it would have been otherwise.

All in all I spent 7 years in the Imperial Prison, but when I look back I don´t regard that time as completely wasted. Due to my proven healing-skills I was allowed more freedom than most of the other prisoners; I was allowed in the apothecary to mix ingredients of different kinds for potions that were commonly used in prison; also I was allowed to go out to collect the necessary plants and herbs, naturally under close supervision, but still I was able to get out in the fresh air now and then, which I really appreciated. But the fact remained……I was not free, and that made me think about what freedom really means and why it´s considered a punishment not to be free. For me it was the issue of very strict routines, and no personal space, always having to live with another person present, no opportunity of splendid solitude, to read a book or just sit down and daydream; having to be awakened every morning at the same time and eat breakfast together with a lot of more or less strangers with different eating-habits, that disturbed me most.

Sharing quarters can be very annoying, especially when you are not used to it. The sounds at night in a prison-cell with three or four women are sometimes unbearable……That I think was my real punishment, together with the obvious fact that I was not free.

I shall try to describe what a day in prison is like:

06.00AM Reveille, that is a guard walking down the corridor while he very loudly bangs at every cell-door shouting,

“ Wake up there ya´ (here he uses a word that is inappropriate), it´s mornin´ …..”

So we crawl out of our beds, fighting to be the first in line at the washing-bucket, if there is any water left from the day before, and if that water still is usable….

Then breakfast, normally some tasteless mire, as I´ve already told you about, but sometimes we get some kwama-eggs or a piece of bread. There´s no talking allowed during breakfast, “let the food silence your mouth,” as my grandmother used to say. Right after breakfast we tend to our daily tasks. No breaks, except for lunch, we just keep working; but that is also a good thing, keeps the mind busy. After supper they put the lights out and we are supposed to go to sleep.

So the days passed year after year….

Telemachos often volunteered to supervise my plant-collection-odysseys; maybe because he just wanted the opportunity to get out of the dull grey prison …or maybe because he had grown fond of me personally. When we were on these expeditions, he trained me in the use of different weapons, such as long- and short-bladed swords. The reason he showed this confidence in letting me use a weapon was our secret, but naturally he knew about what had happened to me and why I was sentenced to prison. He also knew my Uncle Varus, who was now his commanding officer, but who also had some tryst with his elder sister. He never told me much about this but I got the sense it was not at all pleasant

He used to tell me that I might need to be able to defend myself when I get out of prison, so he arranged a dummy consisting of a “doll” made from empty sacks, on which I was supposed to practise my blows and thrusts.

I was a good student; I quickly learned how to use the blades, and oddly enough I was better with the long-blade, which is not common among women. I was not as strong as a man but I was tall and because of my rather long arms I had a considerable reach and so I could easily keep the enemy at a distance when fighting. We had practice “fights” Telemachos and I, and after a couple of months intensive training I finally succeeded in beating him in one of those fights.

It was a warm sunny afternoon, in the middle of Sun´s Height; I had finished with the day´s collecting of marshmerrow and trama roots, and Telemachos suggested we should try a “fight.” He´d brought two beautiful steel katanas with him and wanted to see how my skills had improved.

At first I didn´t do very well; Telemachos successfully avoided my attacks …..but as the fight went on, my greater reach proved itself an advantage, and I slowly forced him backwards until he hit an upright boulder…..then I found myself pointing the knife-sharp edge of my sword at his throat. Telemachos stood absolutely still, looking right into my eyes, knowing that one single movement could send him straight on to his ancestors. I was panting heavily, drenched in sweat, totally aware of the sudden opportunity to escape that had presented itself.

I put down my sword with a sigh, the tension of the moment vanished and I smiled at Telemachos and asked him to recognize my victory. Some things are just impossible; I couldn´t kill Telemachos. I was not a murderess, although I did take a man´s life once, and was therefore sent to prison in the first place. But I would never believe that it had been murder- I was protecting myself and others and would do so again, if necessary. But this time it would have been cold-blooded murder, and that was something I was not capable of.

After some 5 years in prison, my healing-skills came to be of use again, when an epidemic of swamp-fever broke out in the men´s ward. In two weeks, fifteen of the prisoners were infected and the guards were terrified that it would spread throughout the prison. I worked the whole time in the apothecary with the ordinary physician, preparing healing-potions. The terrible thing was that if the potion was not distributed within the first two days after the outbreak of the disease, it had no effect at all. So when I came upon the first prisoner who was too far gone with infection I thought I´d try something else.

The disease affected the lungs mainly; they filled with fluid and the patient was slowly suffocated. The cause was a kind of germ that developed in the swamps of Cyrodiil, and sometimes, when the conditions were right, became very aggressive and so attacked humans.

I put my hands on the chest of the patient, who was in a very poor shape, delirious and with a bad cough. I closed my eyes and concentrated…..Almost immediately I felt the heat in my hands as the energy built; the unpleasant bubbling in the man´s lungs slowly diminished, as did the feverish heat that emanated from his whole body. I shivered, sweat running down my back, as his fever seemed to go right through me. I had to let go……and so I did, falling to the side, panting with exhaustion. But I knew I´d succeeded; the man would survive.

Then the real struggle began, as we, the physician and I, tried to cure as many as possible with potions. In the end, there were a couple of men that I had to heal “my way.”

After these events I was regarded as “official” healer and did get some more benefits, such as being allowed to visit the prison-library, a privilege that pleased me greatly. I always loved books and being able to spend quite some time in a library, regardless of its size and content, was a pleasure. I read all books in that library……literally, and thus increased my skills in strategic planning, alchemy, how to repair weapons and different war-strategies.

Sonya had been transferred to a labour-camp some months before; apparently her mother had untied her tongue and reported her husband to the authorities for abuse and there was evidence that Sonya had acted in pure self-defence and so her death-sentence was withdrawn. That pleased me because I had been rather fond of that harsh Nordic girl.

In the end of my seventh year in prison I had an encounter with Azura again, something I had not had since the day I saved Telemachos’ life through Leila. But this time it was different; this time she came to my dreams in person, not only as a voice……

I saw a tall, slender woman dressed in bluish white, a face hard and yet delicate, eyes burning, standing beside my bed in an aura of coldness, her smooth voice speaking words of wisdom, words of fate:

“Serene of Cyrodiil, you have passed the first trial that was laid upon you; there will be a change of scenery, for good and for ill. You will encounter further trials, and you will be the hope of an entire population. You will be a saviour, but fear not; I shall guide you.”

Shivering, I drew the blanket tighter around me and fell asleep again. I was abruptly awakened by a hand shaking my shoulder rather harshly.

“Wake up, and be quiet. Hurry up, lass, it´s time to leave.”

The hoarse whisper went through my sleepy mind and I was dragged off my bed, a hooded cloak was cast over me and I was taken outside into the dark quiet street. I saw a wooden carriage in front of the prison-gates and started to ask what this was all about.

“Shhhh, girl, don´t speak, just come along, we have a long way to go.”

I was pushed into the dark carriage and off we went, through the empty streets until the smell of fish and salt caught my nose and I realized we must be at the harbour. The carriage stopped and I was taken out. Two figures, totally covered in black cloaks, grabbed me by the arms and led me on to the pier, where a low ship was lying alongside. I was hustled up on the gang-plank and onto the ship. It was all dark and I heard my escort whisper some orders. Another cloaked figure appeared from the hold and turned towards me. He looked at me, muttered something I couldn´t understand, and I fell into darkness…..


Here ends chapter 1