24: Talking

I left the captain to his grief. I probably should have comforted him, but I am afraid I could not think of anything to say. I made my way back through the smoke filled halls of the castle. My body ached with fatigue, and my spells of healing could do nothing about the pain. Somehow, I reached the chapel and sat down on one of the unbroken pews. I prayed to the gods for forgiveness, but even as I made my plea I could feel sleep dragging me downwards.
A young looking guard was standing over me when I awoke. He apologized for waking me and presented to me a hastily wrapped package.

“It is from Captain Matius, He wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. He said that his warrior days were over, and as such he would have no use for this anymore.” I took the package and found it to be rather heavy and rough. When I unwrapped it, I saw that it was a suit of armor similar to that of the guard before me, and that it was of the finest chain mail. The cloth was a bit dirty, but otherwise it was relatively undamaged. I could sense that it was magically enchanted, but I did not take the time to divine the exact enchantment. I thanked the guard and told him to thank Captain Matius for me. My pack welcomed the new suit of armor into its folds, and the young guard walked out of the chapel.

I knew that there was work still to be done. Martin still needed to be taken to Jauffre, and there was much to do before Martin could take his seat at the throne of the Empire. I bid farewell to the charred shell of Kvatch and proceeded down the mountain path to the refugee camp. The long winding road down the mountain took me by surprise, as I did not remember coming up so far. Apparently I had been too focused to notice how high up I was when I had rushed to help the guards… How long had it been since I had found out about the siege of Kvatch? I do not know how long I spent in the Oblivion gate, and the hideous clouds above me blocked out all light and sense of time. So how long had it been?

Martin was waiting for me in the camp, but I was too tired to proceed. He said that we could both use some sleep, and we would continue in the morning.



I had the strangest dream. I was flying above a crowd of oddly dressed people, all clustered around a small box. There was a flash of flame, and they all scattered away from the box. Nothing happened for a moment, but then suddenly fire began spitting out of the top! The flame changed colors and danced, and then box suddenly shot something into the air. It looked like a rock, but it exploded in a sphere of color! This continued for some time, and when the box had stopped its infernal spitting, everyone began to cheer. It was very strange indeed.



I awoke sometime around seven in the morning, and found Martin already cooking himself a breakfast. I pulled some bread and cheese from my pack, and we ate in relative silence. When we had both finished, we set off down the hill and towards Skingrad. Neither of us spoke for some time, and the road was quiet. Suddenly I remembered why the road up to Kvatch had not seemed so long. I had been riding my horse! I cursed myself for forgetting about it, but going back for it would take hours! I sighed and decided not to go back for it, I figured it would probably find its way home to the priory on its own.

We passed through Skingrad, but decided not to stop. It was still early in the day and neither of us was that tired. However, when we got through town and into the woods, Martin seemed to cheer up a little. He began talking, and soon we were chatting away like old friends. When the conversation turned to our backgrounds, however, things took a darker turn.


“I was raised on a farm in Kvatch County. My father was a simple man, and I helped as best as I could. But I was never quite like him. He was perfectly happy to farm all his life. I knew there was something more to the world than sowing and plowing. I started… dabbling in Daedra worship. Every child has his rebellious phase, but mine was particularly dark. I soon became harsh and unkind to my father, even assaulting him on occasion! One day, another worshipper lost control of a Daedroth he had summoned. It went on a rampage, killing several of my friends. It was then I realized what was happening to me. I threw away my horrible past, and joined the temple. I am not proud of my past, but it did serve me well during the siege. I think that without my time as a daedra worshipper, I would never have survived the siege. What about you? What sort of background do you come from?”

“I shall start with my early childhood. My parents had been traveling to their new home in Valenwood when my mother was pregnant. She went into labor during the trip, and no one was around to help her. My father tried his best, but he was a merchant, and had no idea what he was doing. My mother died during childbirth, and to this day my father does not forgive himself. When I as young he attempted to teach me in the ways of magic. He hired a tutor and I started at the age of eight. He didn’t want me to be in the same position he was in with my mother; unable to heal her pain with magic. Bretons are naturally adept at magic, and I learned quickly. My father was too demanding however, he pushed and pushed at me. Finally, I could not stand it anymore. I left him and went to join the Mages’ Guild. They cared for me and I learned at my own pace. I rose through the ranks very quickly. By the age of twenty I was a fully fledged Magician. I was able to buy my own house and do my experiments from there.

“Then I went too far. The Daedra I summoned destroyed my life. I was thrown out of the Mages’ Guild in Valenwood, and locked away in the Imperial City Prison for 5 years. My sentence was actually for 30 years, but the Emperor happened to go through my cell. I lost most of my magical skills, and my body atrophied. Now, I am back in the guild, although I will never be able to go back to Valenwood. I have vowed to help the Emperor, even after his death, because he freed me. Not much farther now, Chorrol is down this road.”