The stories so far, Edited and ready to roll. Options

[Troika]

OK, this thread will contain any and all stories that are posted on the geocities site and labelled as edited. These babies we don't have to worry about until it actually comes time to stick em in the game.

I will sort out this thread... in other words, please do NOT post up stories yourself... it could lead to multiple copies which could prove problematic later.

Also, please keep posts in this thread to a minimum. This is mainly just a place where people have quick and easy (although not necessarily organised) access to the stories already finished with.

[Troika]

Section: Stories

Written by Serene (Minque)

Serene in Cyrodiil

By Minque

Chapter 1 Cyrodiil

Part 1

The day that changed my life forever, was indeed meant to change it…..but not in the way it did……..

I was standing in front of the big mirror in my dressing-room, merely appreciating the sight….I probably would have a good time at the grand feast my parents were holding for me, to celebrate my 16th birthday. That day was today and I was waiting for my mother to come and help me with my hair. She wasn’t eager to let Ranya, my dunmer maid, perform this delicate task, knowing that the devoted girl would listen too closely to my suggestions of how my long, auburn hair should be arranged.

The festivities also had another purpose- a lot of young, promising legionnaires were invited, all eager to marry the daughter of the great General in the Imperial Legion, Rufus Vantinius, my beloved father. So finding a suitable husband for me was one of today’s missions for my parents.

I slowly turned around, watching my exquisite skirt whirl around the waist; it was a lovely creation in dark gold-beige and amethyst-blue, embroidered with pearls around the lining. With that I wore a tight semi-transparent blouse in beige which revealed a lot more of me than my mother would be satisfied with. But since I was old enough to be the object of the “marriage-open-market” why not tease the hunters a bit?

I knew my mother would want me to put on the beautiful robe which she inherited from her mother, and which now was given to me. In fact it was a great piece of handicraft; my grandmother made it for her wedding….ages ago, from thick heavy wool, in a dark red color with thick gray wolf-fur on the hood and lining. My grandmother, Reidun Ingjaldsdottír, was born and raised in Falcreath in the province of Skyrim, being originally of Nordic heritage, and that’s where the fur came from. My grandfather got her as a reward for saving her father’s life in a fight there.

At first Reidun resented her master and “owner,” Larrius Macrinius, captain in the Legion. But afterwards they settled down in Falcreath, so Reidun in fact not was driven from her native lands, she started to like him and soon even love him. Their marriage was a great celebration with a huge mass of food and drink, and Reidun had made the famous robe just for the occasion to protect her both from the everlasting coldness of Skyrim and also from the lustful eyes of the drunken male wedding guests.

Shortly after their marriage they set off for The Imperial City, where Larrius rapidly advanced in his career with the Legion. My mother, Larissa, and her twin-brother, Larrius II, were born short after my grandfather became General.

“Serene! Are you out of your mind? Just standing there dreaming and admiring yourself! We are short of time as it is, and you are far from being presentable!”

My mother’s sharp voice abruptly awakened me from my daydreams, and I sighed and sat down on the little pallet in front of the mirror. Mother Larissa started to brush my hair with a ferocity coming from her nervousness at not having full control of the situation (as she usually had!)

I sat calmly and stared right into the mirror, watched my mother’s face and appearance, and noticed that I certainly hadn’t gotten my looks from her….She was a short sturdy woman, round-faced, with dark blonde hair in a fancy arrangement, her brown eyes peering sternly at me…..BROWN EYES!!

I jumped to my feet when I discovered the fact that my mother’s eyes were brown, a fact I hadn’t given one thought about before…It couldn’t be!!! It was impossible- mine were dark blue with a touch of amethyst-violet, like my father’s. Well, his were more bright blue, but …..I had just learned about genetics at the Lyceum for better-off Imperial young women, and one thing was made crystal-clear, there’s only 50% chance that an offspring from one brown-eyed and one blue-eyed parent can get blue eyes…..then add the fact that I didn’t resemble my mother at all; I was tall, thin and my face was slim and delicate with pointed cheek-bones….There was something really fishy going on……..

“How come I have blue eyes when yours are brown?” I screamed as I stood before my mother, trembling with a strange terror. I so wanted her to ease me and explain that I really WAS one of that 50% that could get blue eyes. My heart sank when I saw her reaction to my outrage..

Larissa Vantinius went pale and sat down heavily on my bed, her hands covering her face, tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh, Renie, darling,” she sobbed, “I was hoping you’d never find out!”

“Find out what?” My voice was sharp and I was shaking in earnest by now, tears burning behind my eye-lids as I felt the ground beneath my feet fade away.

My mother wiped her face and composed herself, straightened her back and started telling me who I really was

”Serene, you might as well be told the truth now, there’ll be no better opportunity….”

“It was a chilly morning, 16 years ago, 27 First Seed.” Larissa started. “I couldn’t sleep so I went down to the grand living room to drink a glass of cyrodiilic brandy, you know I usually do that, don’t you?”

I nodded and she continued – “Then I thought I’d go outside for a while to get a breath of fresh air. When I opened the front door I almost stumbled over a worn, open chest that was right in front of me on the staircase.” Larissa’s eyes filled with tears again and she was silent…. I began to feel a chill down my back, and sweat was beading on my brow and under my arms, as I forced my mother to continue her gruesome story.

“When I looked down I saw a little baby-girl lying in the chest, all naked with just an old dirty piece of cloth wrapped around her legs. The baby looked dead and there was a note pinned to the cloth.”

I consider myself be an intelligent girl with a lot of imagination, so by now I was aware what my mother was getting at! This indeed was a nightmare; I couldn’t hold back anymore, a flood of tears ran down my face, and I cried out my rage and fear, whilst my mother gently massaged my shoulders

“Yes Renie, that baby-girl was you! The note on the cloth said: ‘You have to look after her for I cannot. She belongs to this house and I have named her Serene, she was born 6 days ago’….and that was it! No more information….So what could I do?” Larissa continued, “I took you inside and tried to warm you up, then you opened your wonderful amethyst-blue eyes and just looked at me with a serenity that amazed me…..No wonder your biological mother named you the way she did!”

“But then again, a 6-day-old baby needs breast-feeding, and where could I find someone who just had a baby?”

“You certainly cried out your urge for some nourishment,” Larissa smiled. “Then I remembered that one of the kitchen-maids recently had a baby, but I didn’t remember actually seeing the child. I went to the servants’ house and asked around. By now most of the staff were awake and very curious about the noise from the main building.”

“Oh Mistress Larissa, a baby-girl! Two or three of the young kitchen-maids were hanging around me and tried to calm you down, ‘She’s hungry I bet,’ Aantje, one of the more clever maids stated, ‘why Marthona just lost her son, maybe she can help, she’s crying over her spilled milk….’”

“ I hesitated at first,” Larissa sighed, “Marthona indeed was one of our most valuable servants; she was a magician and healer, BUT she also was an Altmer! And you Renie, were not, you were definitely of cyrodiilic heritage. I wasn’t so keen on letting a woman of another race feed you- one never knows how that can end up!”

“But there was no choice, either Marthona was to feed you or you would just die!”

By now I was listening to my mother’s story with a cold empty feeling in my stomach; I didn’t cry anymore, but my nose was running and my blouse was soaked with sweat and I certainly wasn’t in the mood for a birthday celebration anymore….. Or for dating some high-bred would-be Cyrodill Legionnaire.

But then again, I realized that I always had been interested in plants and herbs and what can be made from them; I also remembered that I always had a good hand with injured animals……..and last but not least, I always had and still have very warm feelings towards Marthona. Maybe some Altmer-magic went through the breast-tissue-barrier and into the milk I drank……?

“Did you ever learn who left me on the stairs?” I asked solemnly.

“No I didn’t…..but coincidentally, your grandmother, that’s on your father’s side, lost a parlor-maid at that time. That’s odd but I wouldn’t assume that this girl is, or was your real mother.”

My father the General entered the room, his face red with anger- well, of course; the guests had arrived and none of his family had come down to welcome all the mighty officers and their wives and children

“WHAT are you doing up here?” he shouted. “SERENE! Just look at you, there will be NO marriage-proposals for you, if you don’t straighten yourself up…And for the sake of Zenithar, take off that ghastly blouse! It’s all wet and you show so much of yourself that you can as well come down naked!…Besides…You SMELL!!”

“Rufus dear,” my mother said in a low voice, “she had to be told the truth about her uncertain roots”…..she bowed her head down and waited for the thunderstorm to break out!

Then I instinctively knew my father was having a heart-attack; his face went bluish-red, his eyes were on fire and he gasped desperately for his breath.

“RUFUS!” My mother screamed as her husband fell down on the thick red carpet, “Rufus! Talk to me! HELP! Serene, call for a healer, call for anything!!!”

I did nothing of the sort; an ice-cold cloud came over me and I just knelt at my father’s side and put my hands gently on his chest. I could feel his heart beating far to irregularly and his lungs struggling for air.

As I closed my eyes and concentrated on the desperate heart, I could feel the clot that hindered the blood from flowing in one of the coronary arteries….I trembled, this I’d never done before, at least not on a human being, and certainly not on one so close to me… I felt waves of energy floating from me to him; it was exhausting, sweat was running down my back, from my armpits and between my breasts…..I was forcing the clot to dissolve to let the blood-stream free again, it was slowly getting softer. Suddenly my fingers felt a tremble deep inside his chest …….

“Rufus!” Larissa whispered, “Oh Renie, he’s coming back to us,” she sobbed quietly and bent over him, covering his face with light kisses.

I rose and looked at his face; it was its normal dark-reddish again, the color of too much cyrodiilic Brandy and too much crab-meat-stew with fried ash- yam…..and no exercise whatsoever, unless you count the few steps to “Semirama´s Hanging Gardens,” the legionnaires’ playground-of the-year. Well, in fact, it’s a decent restaurant mostly, but when invaded by legionnaires off-duty it becomes Oblivion’s kitchen, too much booze and fatty food…

My mother and most of the guests now were occupied by helping Father to his bedroom, so I decided that it was time for me to stand on my own feet. I tore off my soaked, smelly clothes, went into the wash room and poured a bucket of water over myself, and immediately I felt better- amazing what a little hygiene does !!

I found some common skirts and blouses in Ranya´s closet, and left a note telling her that she could take whatever she wanted in my closet, then packed a leather satchel with one set of her clothing, and put on the other. The last thing I did was to pack the gorgeous red robe and off I went…..without looking back.

I now had paid for the care that was given to me by saving my father’s life, at least that was what I chose to think as I was walking through the streets of The Imperial City, hoping none of the patrolling legionnaires should stop me and ask what General Vantinius´s little Renie was doing alone walking the streets in the middle of the night.

I was extremely tired and wanted more than ever to lie down for a bit…..but that kind of behavior was not allowed in the City, not even in parks, on benches! There are stories about people being arrested for sleeping in parks, or even picking flowers there…..

Coming out from the City into the beautiful Nibenay Valley I felt at ease for the first time since morning. I knew the valley like my own pocket. Marthona went there every day to collect medical herbs and plants and practice different magic skills and I followed her, although my parents (or whatever I’ll call them from now on) did not approve. So I had to sneak out every time…..which made me extremely skilled in sneaking, an ability that might be called the “Rise and Fall of Serene Vantinius.”

As I slowly walked along the Nibenay River I thought about how this day had forever changed my life. I’d never go back to Vantinius Manor; I didn’t belong there anymore, not being the legitimate daughter of Rufus and Larissa. I also wondered why I never had any brothers and sisters…..Why would an Imperial General settle for only one heir? And that heir being a GIRL? Something was very wrong here and I couldn’t figure out what it was. I then noticed a flickering light to my left. My first thought was that my father’s men had found me, because I was sure they were sent out looking for me. No way would General Vantinius cope with the humiliation of a run-away daughter, even if that daughter was not of his own blood-line.

I quickly hid myself behind a gigantic cork-bulb plant growing beside the winding path. Not a sound could be heard, but the light was still there. I sneaked slowly towards it and then it was all clear… It was a lit-up window in a small shack and the flickering was just the trees waving in the chilly breeze….. I also by then knew what house it must be; I had found the Dunmer-settlement that was known to be somewhere in the Valley. Very few people actually knew about this little “village,” but as Ranya and I had become friends, she had told me about it. The Dunmer that inhabited this settlement were working in The City as underpaid semi-slaves, doing all the dirty work that the native Cyrodiilians were too high-up to do. I remembered that I actually had been here, once or twice, together with Ranya, when I was a little girl, naturally in secret; my father would never allow me to mix with, as he used to say, “Minor races.”

When I entered the settlement I looked for the shack where Ranya´s family lived; at least they had met me and hopefully wouldn’t try to chase me away. As with all Dunmer there were a lot of people living in the same small building, so when I entered there were seven pairs of reddish eyes glaring at me with suspicion. I removed the hood of my robe to reveal my face.

“Serene!” Tamara, Ranya´s elder sister, flung herself up from her seat near the fire. “What in the name of Almalexia are you doing here? What’s happened to you? You look awful!”

“Thank you,” I replied with a twisted grin and felt the tears rising in my eyes, “now I know I’m with friends”

Tamara embraced me and held me tight to her chest while I cried my eyes out. When I calmed down a bit I thought of how wonderfully friendly these people were, considering they had not seen me for quite some years. I dried my face and sat down by the fire. It was early morning; the family had just started their breakfast and I was treated with what food and drink they had; hot Hackle-lo-tea, freshly made bread and some boiled ash-yam. Sitting there, warm and satisfied, I began to tell what happened to me last night. I watched the faces of the people around me- there was Tamara and four more of Ranya´s sisters, and their mother, all six with the beautiful red hair that obviously ran in the family, and another elderly woman who I didn’t recognize.

I spent the day in the hatch, resting, recovering from the events of yesterday. In the evening we all assembled by the fireplace, drinking strong tasty comberry-wine that made me very drunk and very sleepy….

When I woke up the following morning I had very vague memories from last night; I must have fallen asleep sitting by the fire. Now I was lying on a bedroll with a somewhat dirty blanket wrapped around me. The smell of Hackle-lo-tea brought me to my senses. Liana, one of Ranya´s younger sisters, brought me a cup and sat down beside me, watching me sadly. She told me that there had been some soldiers sneaking around the settlement during the night. “They were looking for you, Serene,” she said quietly and turned her face away from me. I nearly fainted when I heard this and cold sweat ran down my back and my mouth went completely dry. The thought of staying at the settlement for a couple of days, which was my original plan, was not an option anymore. I had to leave as soon as possible, so I gathered my things together, leaving the red bridal-robe behind as a thank-you for the hospitality shown to me.

Just as I was ready to exit the shack I heard terrible screaming from outside and with a crash the door was flung open and three bodies were cast inside. It was Tamara, her mother, and Kira, the youngest of the sisters. All three were badly injured, and covered with blood. I opened my mouth to ask what was going on when four imperial soldiers in heavy armor broke through the door, swords unsheathed. A distinct smell of cyrodiilic brandy filled the room and I instinctively dragged Liana to me and tried to shield her with my body

“So, there you are, Mistress Serene,” one of the soldiers took a step in my direction, with his hand stretched out to grab me. “The filthy bastards thought they’d get a neat ransom for kidnapping you, huh, but no way, they’re going to pay for this…..in blood!”

I then was grateful for my ability to sneak because as the drunken soldier was speaking I managed to get hold of the steel dagger that we used for cutting the bread last night.

“Stay away from me,” I shouted, pointing the dagger at the soldier’s belly. ”Just leave me alone!”

The soldier hesitated for a moment, then turned to his companions, laughing, “See boys, there we go……going to have some fun with that one huh?”

I tried to keep my hand steady, but I was shaking vigorously, sweat running down my back as I slowly moved sideways, to see what had happened to my Dunmer friends.

The soldiers argued among themselves about what they were going to do next; apparently they had different opinions, and were terribly drunk….

I kneeled by the three wounded Dunmer women and saw that Tamara and her mother were not breathing anymore; their throats were cut from side to side. Kira, on the other hand, seemed not to have been injured until I saw the blood emerging from between her legs. She had been severely molested, and she was only 7 years old. In unthinking rage I threw myself on to the nearest soldier and buried the dagger deep in his neck. With a roar he slowly sank to the floor with me still clinging to his back.

Then sheer hell broke loose. I luckily lost consciousness- maybe that saved me from going totally insane. The next thing I remember was pain, the most terrible pain I ever encountered. I was lying in a carriage on a dirty blanket that smelled of unspeakable things. The carriage was tossing and turning and I turned my head aside and vomited. With every movement of the carriage, the pain made me wish I could die, or at least pass out. I could feel that some of my ribs were broken; every breath caused the ends to dig into my lungs, and a deep cut in my left arm made it useless; but worst of all, my body below the waist was on fire, abused and tormented…..I could imagine what they’d done to me. Just before I finally passed out again, I wondered what had happened to my Dunmer friends and why nobody tried to save us…. And then, I happened to see the face of one of my tormentors, and that filled me with sheer horror…..I couldn’t believe it was him…

“Uncle Varus!” The words that came from my wounded lips were a bare whisper, but he looked at me with loathing and hatred from the back of his horse, and I knew I’d made a most powerful enemy.


The next time I opened my eyes I encountered darkness. I found myself lying on a bed-like thing on a filthy mattress. I didn’t see anything at first but when my eyes got used to the weak light I noticed that I had to be in a cell. Damp stony walls, the worn bed I was lying on and the compulsory bucket in the corner. The smell was …well, interesting.

I tried carefully to move, first my head from side to side, then my arms. The left arm was still hurting me and the sleeve of my shirt was soaked with blood. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate all energy to the wound. By doing that I also got my mind off the dull pain in the lower part of my body. It was hard this time; I was totally worn out by the last hour’s events. Then I felt the arm getting warm, and I noticed the bleeding had stopped. Now I just would need some marshmerrow and wick wheat to close the cut and heal it…..Very possible that would be in my current situation! In the meantime I unwrapped the belt from my waist- it was made of a broad piece of cloth so I could easily tear off a strip and tie it tight on my arm.

The broken ribs would heal easier, I just had to lie still and try to focus on the ribs as I slept; oh how grateful I was to Marthona who taught me of all these healing skills! She used to say that I had the “gift”…and also claimed that there must be a drop of Elfish blood in me somehow…..

Well I wouldn’t know about that anyway, but thinking of my origin made the tears run again and I didn’t want to cry anymore, wouldn’t give the legionnaires the pleasure of seeing me broken.

Then the door was flung open and a young boy entered the cell with a tray in his hands.
“Some food for you mistress Serene” he said and looked away from me. Well I must look really awful then, if my guards didn’t even dare to put eyes on me. The food was gruesome- some watery soup with something indefinable floating around in it, and a piece of bread, shaggy with green mould. My hunger, though, was greater than my distaste for the food, so I ate it all.

Why the boy had called me “Mistress”…..maybe my father had arrived; it should be common knowledge by now that I was imprisoned. Oh what a dishonor to him having an illegitimate daughter who also had committed murder…

I fell asleep…..concentrating on my broken ribs…

The next morning I felt a lot stronger. When trying to take a deep breath I didn’t feel the broken ribs dig into my lungs anymore…..so my healing skills were functioning quite well! I did wish I had my alchemy- gear and my collection of herbs and plants with me…because I realized that I had to do something about the other bleeding. It had slowed, but not stopped and my trousers and the mattress were soaked with blood.

Breakfast was as delicious as last night, only this time it wasn’t brought to me by a young shy legionnaire but by my Uncle Varus!!

The time has come to tell you about my Uncle Varus. Rufus and Varus Vantinius were brought up in the Imperial City by their parents, Julianos and Antonia, to honorably serve the Emperor and the Imperial Legion. Both boys were ambitious and became skilled soldiers. But when it came to social matters, Rufus was the most successful, for he was attractive to women, strong, honest, intelligent, considerate and most of all he had the looks! He could converse with anyone about anything, he read books, took an interest in music, theatre, and all cultural events going on in the City. And so he found Larissa and got married, purchased a stately mansion and continued a full social life. His personal courage and good works made him highly respected in the Legion as well as among the citizens. He was even running for councilor’s election this year.

Varus, on the other hand, was not at all intellectual, took no interests in any cultural events, and did not read books…he was an arrogant and highly skilled warrior, that’s all. Women were attracted to him at first, for he was also rather handsome, but the relationships didn’t ever last. Underneath the good looks lurked a cruel and jealous spirit. Therefore he envied his brother Rufus for having achieved a home, a wife and…..a child; me!
The rumors said that he used to beat the women when they didn’t do exactly as he said, or if he was just in the mood for beating somebody.

I believed that rumor as I looked up in my Uncle’s face when he came into my cell that chilly morning.

He stared at me with cold blue eyes and an expression of loathing on his face. Then he snapped his fingers and an elderly woman entered. My eyes widened…it was a Dunmer woman…why on earth would the Legion have Dunmer working for them?

“See to it that this…this person will be presentable for the trial this afternoon,” he ordered the woman.

She nodded and approached me. Even if she was affected by the state I was in, she didn’t show it at all. She had brought sload-soap, fresh water, and some fragrant herbs and plants. I’ve said before…a little hygiene does wonders for me. I was neatly washed, my wounds were treated with medical herbs, and, the best of all, my bleeding was arrested. She dressed me in a clean shirt and skirt and added a brown woolen robe that made me feel warm and fairly comfortable considering the situation. Through it all, Uncle Varus stared at me coldly and with hatred.

When I was finished he handed a bottle to the Dunmer woman and growled,

“Give her this to drink.”

His voice was harsh and sounded evil. I hesitated at first; usually I don’t drink potions I don’t know the effects of, but this one smelled rather good and I was thirsty….

After swallowing the unknown potion I first experienced a warm nice feeling in my throat and the taste was also very nice…..but then!! My tongue seemed to grow and stuck to my palate; I couldn’t move it…and could not utter one word!!
When I looked at the Dunmer I saw she was crying…so I now understood I was enchanted with a Silence spell, I wouldn’t be able to defend or even speak for myself at the trial…..
What a terrible set-up! When I looked at Uncle Varus, I saw an evil grin on his face and I knew I was doomed……..

I was left alone in my cell again, sitting on the bench, just waiting….staring at the little window with iron-bars without really seeing. There was no doubt I was to be sentenced to death, that being the usual punishment for murder, and in my case it was even worse….I had ended the life of an officer in The Imperial Legion. My thoughts were with those Dunmeri women in the settlement who died for trying to help me out. My despair was endless, but I couldn’t cry anymore, there were simply no more tears left.

"The events of the last days had been so stunning, so far outside my experience, that I was simply numb. Although I knew that a death sentence was almost certain, I could not even find the energy to be afraid. In three short days, I had lost my family, my freedom, and my innocence. I had killed a man- felt his warm blood on my hands. And I had been right to kill him, no matter what Imperial law said."

Then all of a sudden I felt the air tighten around me; there was a strange chill, obvious but not unpleasant. I heard a humming sound; it seemed the cell-walls were fading away; I was weightless free-floating in the void, when this soft female voice spoke.
“Serene, fear not, you are chosen. You shall be prepared for higher purposes, I shall watch over you.

The voice was merely a whisper in the air but the words infused strength and confidence in my heart. I closed my eyes and let the eerie atmosphere just sweep through me……

The door opened with a loud bang, and I once again faced my Uncle Varus, but this time I felt no fear. I gazed sternly right into his eyes, and he turned away. A faint feeling of triumph stiffened my spine. He couldn’t look me in the eyes….

Uncle Varus was accompanied by two imperial guards who held on to my arms rather harshly as they escorted me to the court-room. I still was under that Silence-spell and could not protest. I once more closed my eyes as we were heading down the narrow corridor, and then a name came into my mind….. “Azura”, the Dunmeri goddess of dusk and dawn, Azura….

The court room was filled with officers in The Legion, and a jury consisting of twelve honorable citizens sat along the left side of the room. Their faces were stern and merciless, and my heart sank; I could not possibly go free, not even with protection from some obscure Dunmeri goddess.

As I looked around I caught sight of my father, Rufus, sitting in the audience, his face totally emptied of all feelings. I cried inside for him; he had lost his only child twice, first when I ran away from home the day of my sixteenth birthday and then once more when I took the imperial officer’s life in the Dunmer settlement the day before yesterday.

The trial began. I did not hear much, for my mind was occupied trying to recapitulate as much as I could from those sixteen years I’d been on this earth. I noticed that there were two parchment rolls lying on the desk in front of the Judge, one with a white ribbon tied around it and one with a black. A thin trickle of sweat ran down my back as I understood that there could only be two ways, life or death, white and black. The jury went out for some last deliberation. After a short break the court assembled again and the jury’s representative read the verdict;

“GUILTY of murder of Crassius Varro, officer in The Imperial Legion …..

The world went black… I must have passed out for a minute or two, and then I abruptly was awake, because suddenly there was a riot in the court room, a Legionnaire in full Imperial Templar Armour rushed toward the Judge. He had a parchment roll in his hand…..a roll with a red ribbon tied around it. The Legionnaire was speaking rapidly in low tones to the Judge, and I overheard some occasional words…..”jail”…….”The Emperor”……”his orders”.
After delivering the roll, the Legionnaire stepped aside and the Judge untied the red ribbon.

“Serene Vantinius, you have been declared GUILTY of murder of Crassius Varro, officer in the Legion of The Imperial City. You will be deprived of your last name; Vantinius, because you do not belong to that family anymore….”

At that moment I looked right into my father’s eyes, but he turned away and my soul died a little bit………

”Also you are to be put in the City jail, for no less than twenty, and no more than fifty years. Court dismissed”

There was silence in the court room as the sentence was passed. Then I felt my tongue was loosened and I cried in despair;

“Father! Don’t abandon me!”

But Rufus Vantinius turned his back on me and went out of the Imperial court room together with his brother Varus.

I was taken back to my cell to gather my few belongings, because now I was to be put in the Women’s Ward of the Imperial Prison of Cyrodiil.

I did not get a cell of my own- there were three more women sitting on their beds as I arrived. The cell looked much like the former one except somewhat bigger. The beds were stacked two by two, and I got the upper one on the left side of the cell. My three room-mates looked first at each other, then at me;

“Nah, what’s ya here for?” One of them addressed me.

She was of Nordic heritage, tall, broad-shouldered, with long braids of golden hair. Her eyes were dark-blue, peering but nevertheless friendly. I told her briefly what happened to me, just omitted the most disgusting details. She told me her name was Sonya and she was born and raised in Skyrim, in a place named Falcreath. She was sentenced for slaying her father….in self-defense that was, because he had done unmentionable things to her. I shrugged; the conversation reminded me far too much of the events I’d been through.

The two other women did not say much, just told their names, Leila, a thin fragile red-haired Breton-girl of 15 years; and Almina, a stout, lethargic Cyrodiilic woman of 40. Leila, I soon found out, was sentenced to death by incineration, for witchcraft and was just waiting for the sentence to be carried out. Her deed was that she supposedly had put Black-Heart’s Disease on a Temple-servant. I did not believe for one moment that she really had committed that crime. Diseases, at least the common ones, according to my thorough studies in The Lyceum undoubtedly were acquired through contagion from germs originated from animals or dead bodies. I was very sad to hear her story and I hoped that I could find a way of saving her. Almina, on the other hand, was sentenced to do time for theft. She had stolen an exquisite robe from a trade house in The City.

After I’d heard the stories from my room-mates I lay down on my bed, and let my thoughts wander …..

I was floating again...in that strange void, everything was dense, the chill surrounded me, and there it was! The voice which this time was familiar to me; I welcomed it, though I felt a strange sense of anxiety.

“Serene of Cyrodiil, you shall not fear, for I will be watching you. Study, increase your skills. You are the hope of an entire nation. You will be the savior of many…….”

I opened my eyes, and sat up in my bed, still shivering from that strange dream. It was a dream…or was it? Sweat was running down my back and I was simply terrified despite the voice telling me not to be.

“´ad a nightmare lassie?” Sonya didn’t even look at me, she just turned around and fell asleep again. The other two neither moved nor uttered one word.

I sat with my arms around my knees and tried to figure out why Azura kept coming to me in my dreams. She wasn’t even one of my gods. Back home Ranya often told me about the Dunmeri gods and what they stood for. Azura was the goddess of dusk and dawn. What did she want from me? I felt dizzy all of a sudden and lay down again. The thought of being some savior did not appeal to me; all I wanted now was to do my time in prison, maybe be released a little bit earlier because of good behavior. ……..

During the next two weeks I had the opportunity so to say, to experience what an imperial prison was like. The women’s ward was situated in the ground story of the building. Therefore the barred windows were high up on the walls, just below the roof. They were rather small and did not let much of the outside light in. Walls of raw granite made the cell damp and there was a distinct smell of dirt and mold. As it was the ground level the cold oozed right up through the stone floor, making us spend most of our time in the cell on our so- called beds. They were simple pallets made of some kind of wood and, as I said before, standing on top of each other two by two. On each bed was a lumpy mattress, apparently filled with moldy straw, which smelled awful. With that we had one blanket each, a thin, worn blanket which did not help very much at night against the raw chill.

In one of the corners there was a bucket, to serve as a toilet. I did not visit it until the end of my second day in prison; I resented the stench very badly but at the end I didn’t have any choice anymore, I had to use it!

Each morning a guard came in with a second bucket with almost clean water, cold of course, and a piece of hard grayish soap; we had to share that between us, so we took turns in who was to be the first in line to wash herself. Towels were non-existent; we used our blankets. My strong sense of hygiene made me suffer severely the first week from this inability to keep myself clean, but after that I gave up and in fact didn’t even notice the thick odor of human grime that was consistent throughout the cell.

Sonya, Leila and myself tried as well as we could to wash ourselves and keep the cell tidy; it gave us something to do and kept our thoughts busy. I admired Leila’s calm, and the fact that she was nice, friendly and even laughed rather often…..despite her death warrant she was in good mood. I was nearly constantly thinking of how she could be saved- it struck me as a crying shame that a lovely girl like Leila should be deprived of her life, for a crime she undoubtedly did NOT commit.

The food was not as bad as one could imagine, drab , but we got rather big portions. For breakfast there were kwama-eggs, beaten and fried, with some peculiar gray stew with chunks of meat in it. I didn’t ask what kind of meat it was because I thought I would prefer not knowing. At noon we got fairly the same, sometimes there was some bread to go with it, or boiled saltrice. In the evening we just got bread and cheese , in fact that was the best meal.. The overall drink was water……on Sundays we could get some comberry-juice, that was if Margoth was the warder…..Margoth was a bosmer, and had worked at the prison for ages. She was afraid of no one, and had the compassion to sometimes cheer up the miserable lives of the imprisoned women.

I got on very well with my room-mates. I told Sonya of my Nordic grandmother and we found out that the families were somewhat related. But then again it was no wonder, Falcreath isn’t that big. I repressed the fact that I was not the real granddaughter of a nordic lady named Reidun of Falcreath……

As I’ve said Leila was a nice cheerful girl and very easy to be with. She ate very little and often treated us with leftovers from her plate. Sonya helped herself to it and so did Almina, but me, I just couldn’t …..my grief for the fate of Leila made me physically sick.

Almina puzzled me even then at this early stage, and considering what happened in a few days , I still can’t explain why she did what she did and why she did it at that particular moment. She hardly ever spoke with us, just sat there on her bed, glaring out into the air with a stubborn grumpy look in her broad face. Hygiene didn’t bother her at all, she never asked to be the first to wash herself. In fact I don’t remember her washing at all…

its strange how you get used to certain routines and find them quite endurable at a time like that. We never spoke about our final punishment, never mentioned the fact that at least two of us were supposed to be executed in a couple of weeks or months; the time-schedule of executions was not for us to know about.

On the night between Middas and Turdas the second week of my stay in the Imperial Prison I had my next encounter with my dream-God Azura…..

This time I was surrounded with a red mist, swirling around me, covering me in a strange chill, yet not unpleasant. Azura’s voice came through the mist, loud and clear this time;

“Serene, Serene of Cyrodiil, be prepared! Have no fear, I will be with you……You will hold in your hands the fate of an innocent, have confidence ……all will be revealed in time.”

Then Azura disappeared and I woke up, drenched in sweat and badly shivering. I swept the dirty blanket tight around me and just sat on my bed for a while, thinking I was slowly going insane. None of my room mates were awake so I finally lay down again and soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next day the memory of my strange dream was almost gone and we continued our tedious time in prison. On Loredas evening we got some overcooked crab-meat for supper together with a bottle of comberry-wine, served by Margoth, naturally….At the time, I did not understand that this “special” meal was an ill omen- a sign of death to come, although not the death that was intended…

We ate our meal in silence. Almina helped herself to the crab-meat , but even more energetically to the wine…..I found this a bit odd, not the fact that the imperial woman ate and drank heavily, that was common knowledge, but the fact we got wine, now that was odd! We never had that before at all.

I just tasted the wine, and did not eat very much either; I had this uneasy feeling that something was very wrong, the little food I had just lay like a lump in my stomach and I struggled to hold back the urge to vomit. So the guard came back for our dirty dishes…..When he turned his back on us to exit the cell I felt a paralyzing fear, and at the same moment Almina rushed towards him and hit the back of his head with a bottle……the bottle we had just emptied a while ago. At the blow the bottle broke, and its knife-sharp ends dug deeply in the soft flesh of the young imperial guard, who slowly sank to the floor, severely bleeding from the deep cut. Almina ran incredibly fast down the corridor outside our cell, while Leila let out a terrifying scream that would certainly be a call-out for every guard within the prison. A quick glimpse of a faint movement from the wounded man caught my eye and then I took action; I slapped Leila’s face to get her out of the catatonic state she was in and then grabbed both her hands and put them directly on the gaping wound of the guard.

“Hold tight”, I hissed and held my hands over hers while I concentrated on the bleeding wound. Leila was immediately quiet and just stared at me with horror all written on her face, yet still she kept her hands, guided by mine, holding tight to the back of the guard’s head. His blood flowed freely over our hands; but soon enough I sensed it diminish. I closed my eyes and concentrated to merge my healing energy through Leila’s hands into the deep cut. My entire body shivered, drenched in cold sweat. From far away I heard the footsteps from several guards approaching….Then I finally was aware of the wound slowly closing, the heavy blood-flow stopping. Leila opened her mouth as to say something, and I cautioned her,

“Shhhh, hold tight and concentrate on the wound.”

I removed my hands from Leila’s and fell trembling to the side, panting heavily as tears started running down my face. During my training, Marthona had told me that there was a price to be paid for a major healing; for the first time, I understood what she had meant. I was more exhausted than I had ever been in my life.

“WASS´UP” three guards, fully armored, stood in the doorway, staring angrily at the strange scene in front of them; one imperial guard lying on his belly, a young Breton girl whose blood-stained hands held his head where the deep cut was slowly closing itself up, and one imperial girl sitting against the wall, crying. Leila’s face was remote, totally emptied of feelings, just calm and silent. I watched her through a mist of tears and knew that I most certainly had triggered the healing-powers that dwelled deep inside her.

“She saved this man’s life,” I sobbed, “he was dying!” I cried fiercely now, the last minutes had been too much for me, I had simply “crossed the border.”

“Aye, look ere Curio, e´s cumin´te his senses.” One of the guards bowed over the wounded one, who moved his head from one side to the other.

I just leaned against the wall and watched from a distance as the three guards helped their comrade to his feet. His uniform and armor were blood-stained but there was no cut in the back of his head any more; it was healed. The guards looked warily at Leila and me, and Sonya, who had been stunned with fear during this breakout, now cleared her throat and addressed the guards;

“Nah, see, yer mate would´ave been a stiffie if the lassie ´ere ´adn´t put them ´ands on´is ´ead.” It was obvious Sonya had grasped the situation …..

The guard named Curio turned to Leila and asked for her name and her sentence.

“Aye, Breton, you apparently saved young Telemachos´ life, and that shall not be unnoticed.”

With these words the prison-guards left our cell.

When we were alone Leila burst into tears, and I put my arms around her and we sat like that for a while. Sonya stared at me as if I was some kind of Cyrodiilic witch…

“Ye shud ´ave seen yerself, Serene,” she said, and shook her head, “them luk in yer eyes….creepy t´was….creepy, all tremblin´an´shakin´….sweatin´all over…….Wha´ are ye reely?”

I looked back at her and explained about my newly discovered healing-powers. Then we overheard some shouting and yelling from the corridor…..

“Almina!” I had completely forgotten about her, whose actions directly triggered this chain of events. A premonition came to me, telling that Almina´s life was over, then a terrible scream…… abruptly cut off…..and it was over.

We did not sleep very well that night, as Leila experienced the healing over and over again in her dreams, and so yelled and cried in her sleep. Sonya merely sat on her bed trying to figure out if I was a witch or just an ordinary lunatic or perhaps a mage.

As for myself, I had another date with Azura……

“Serene! Justice has been shaped,…..A life for a life…..Your path has been established, do not fear, for I shall be watching you. A release will come...”

And a release came, though not mine, for in the afternoon two guards came to us and told us about the death of Almina; it was young Telemachos and Curio, and they addressed us with great courtesy, which did not surprise me- men tend to respect women with exceptional powers. Especially when one of those women has saved a life.

“Killed during attempted escape,” they said.

“Leila of Jehanna; you shall follow me; General Vantinius wishes to see you.” Curio’s words tore my soul to pieces, and I crouched in the corner of my bed, buried my face in the pillows and let the tears come. I would never get over the loss of my family; just hearing them being mentioned caused me to break down completely.

Leila leaned over me and kissed my wet cheeks, “ I owe you my life, Serene. If I ever can do anything to repay you, let me know!”

Then she was gone…….I didn’t think I would ever meet her again, but oddly enough I did……but that’s another story.

Telemachos was one kind of a guard….he was kind and compassionate, as I found out on that gruesome Sondas afternoon in The Imperial Prison.

“Serene, there now, drink this and you will feel a lot better.”

I turned around and found a mug filled with hot comberry wine handed to me. Telemachos’ brown eyes looked at me almost tenderly. He handed me a piece of cloth to wipe my nose and dry my face with. As I took the cloth from his hand I noticed he had a badly treated wound on his thumb; it was watery and green pus oozed out from it. The bandage was dirty and did not even cover the wound properly. I asked him how he got it and he said it was a horse-bite.

Obviously Telemachos would run the risk of losing his thumb due to acute infection if the wound was not treated and quickly.

I took his hand and gently removed the bandage; the smell that now emanated from the poor man’s hand made Sonya rushed to the bucket and got rid of her lunch.

First I did not even feel it, but after examining Telemachos thumb with my fingers I noticed a rise in temperature in my hands, a tickling sensation in my fingertips…..The pus dried into small flakes and the red inflamed flesh took a healthier pinkish color, as I held his hand.

I looked straight into his eyes and then saw there, that he now knew who really had saved his life the day before….

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 gray 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 practice 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 labor-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-defense 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 savior, 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 harbor. 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