The Imperial Library

Taela: Taela's tale begins here in Torval on the year four-hundred and ten of the third era.  It was of humble beginnings where this one's life starts. 

Immediately you raise an eyebrow.  You question how she could be well over two hundred years old.  And why she does not look as so.  

Taela: Taela see's much disbelief on your face.  This one also sometimes disbelieves her own history.  To Answer your question, Taela has Mara to thank for this gift.  But that will be explained much later.  That is if you still want to continue listening?

You nod your head yes and let the soothing ambiance drift you away into a more mellow mood. 

Taela: Taela has no litter mates to speak of. Only those whom you would call father and mother.  They were nice khajiits from what Taela could remember.  This one's father was a Suthay who was named Dra'Kaviir.  He was a humble merchant living in Rimmen when he met Taela's mother, an Ohmes-Raht and tailor by trade named Ashiranii.  She came from Orcrest.  That is as far back into their lives as this one can remember.  For five years, Taela called Torval her home.  Then, a small uprising took place.  The Khajiit were split and still are today in the fourth era about the loss of Leyawiin.  Taela's father happened to have no opinion on the matter, which angered some of the protesters.  Threatened with his life, we moved to the port town of Senchal.

The air outside has gotten cooler and you feel enthralled in the story.  Just outside the threshold of Taela's shack might as well be a million miles away.  Shops are beginning to close down and the torches are lit.  The clear skies indicate good weather.  Though this is not always entirely accurate when your considering Elsweyr. 

Taela: Senchal was the worst.  It has gotten better over the years, but that is not saying much.  The streets were packed with khajiit of all sizes.  Lines to kiosks would run right through other's houses.  We were fortunate not to have such problems as we chose to live more inland.  Ashiranii would buy plenty of provisions at the coastal shops to avoid having to come back more frequently.  But the squalidness of Senchal engulfed the town.  Taela lived like this for two years until S'rendarr looked away for a brief second.  Ah but it seems time is not with us.  Taela will spare you moment to rent a room at a nearby inn.  Perhaps tomorrow, we can continue.

You get up feeling dizzy and a bit confused.  Much of Taela's words have not set yet within your head.  You leave the shack and take in the crisp night air.  You can hear the snickering of a Dagi, who seems to be mocking you.  However, you ignore the khajiit and find a local in.  Using your coin that would have gone to your treatment, you spend it on a nice cozy bed and a warm Cyrodiilic meal.

So, this has potential. I like the format; creative, different. The execution needs a little work.

For the most part, Taela's lines are good. They have a nice sense of mystery to them. The second person bits, though, well, they're pretty bland. Uninteresting. Perhaps the most crippling issue with it is that there is little flow from one sentence to the next. Bit too choppy, is what I'm saying. I'd look through them again and try to get a little rhythm going there, a neural beat. And sharpen up your descriptions; don't say anything about it at all if you're not going to make it crisp. In other words, if you don't want to commit to what type of wound it is, then don't say anything about a wound at all; just describe the pain. Use the power of the second person, and let your reader fill in what the pain is from. Carry that idea through with the rest, too.

More on using second person: IMO, this perspective could benefit from a much more authoritative voice. Your narrator should not be describing an experience to the reader, but commanding them to experience a description. Be bold. Think of each sentence as a catalyst whose focus is the mind of the reader. Pretend you're Boethiah.

Thanks for the feedback.  I'll see how I could put more personality into the second person, or "you".

Your eye begins to open and you catch a glimmer of the morning sun break into your room with an intense brightness.  But you feel no oppressive heat.  Instead, you feel you have taken a nap on the grassiest hill in the shadiest forest in the Niben on the middle of Second Seed.  You do not want to get up and try sleep again.  However, you find it impossible to re-enter this heavenly state of mind.  You are annoyed by this realization and slowly get up to examine the spot where your pus riddled gash was just hours before.  The feeling of a thousand needles puncturing your flesh no longer registers and there appears to be no mountainous scars to prove to itself it was even there in the first place.  A smile breaks across your face and you grab your clothes and put them on.  That smile then turns into a look of confusion as you notice a rather large tear on your shirt where the gash was.  You can not for the life of you remember the incident which not only ripped asunder your valuable shirt, but left you nearly bleeding to death.  You do not wish to linger any further with these troubling memories and quickly, with no hesitation, throw your current thoughts into the back of your mind and put on an extra set of clothes.  You look outside the window and notice it is only ten in the morning and the city has begun to show signs of bustling life.  Finally, you do remember to meet with Taela.  With haste, you fly downstairs and you place ten drakes on the counter.  Just before you exit the tavern, a voice calls out to you.

Rashini: Kaz Dar'gostez Muthsera!

You are unfamiliar with this outlandish Khajiiti tongue and desperately look around for a translator.  An Ohmes sees your worrisome expression and speaks up in a friendly yet annoyed undertone.

M'Zahher: She said your short on your payment.  The room is fifteen gold pieces, not ten.

Without acknowledging the Ohmes, you run to the table and slap five more drakes onto the counter and dash out of the inn as if Kynereth has graced your heels.  You are not in the mood to be slowed down by petty issues; so with purpose in your stride and head up high, you push past the humongous mass of fur and claws and march to Taela's home.  You cautiously open the door and peek inside.  Taela is at her lectern writing.  She suddenly places the quill down and shifts a watchful eye in your direction.

Taela: Ah, A friend enters, no?  How was your slumber?  Have you come to delve further into Taela's life?

You anxiously nod your head and happily find your seat from yesterday.  Your eyes gaze upon Taela and you wait in baited breath for her anticipated words.

Taela: Now where did we leave off?  Oh yes.  This next part of Taela's history is of a darker hue yet vibrant in knowledge.  This one shall use your mind as an artist uses a canvas or an author uses a piece of parchment.  Bringing to life a story to be seen.  Two slow years passed Taela by as she stayed in Senchal.  This one's father could not make enough coin to pay for the shed we lived in and Taela's family had prepared to move.  It was a moment of mixed emotions.  Taela and her clan were saddened by the lack of riches needed to with dignity.  Yet, we were happy to no longer live in the shadiest city in Elsweyr. Then, on the eve of the day we left Senchal, a thief in the night heralding from the land of ash snatched Taela from her slumber and bounded this one in knots so tight.  A bag was placed on Taela's head and a pair of magical wrist bracers accompanied it.

You look up in complete astonishment.  You fail to find the words to speak, but Taela see's them in your eyes.  Finally, with a choking voice you painfully mutter your reaction.  Asking frantic questions about her well being and innocent inquiries about the thief's motives.  The concept of slavery is completely foreign to the mind that has been barred by it's experience for hundreds of years.  Suddenly, you feel a cold steel touching your bruised wrists.  Your legs are tied and a cold sensation of being in a cramped location engulf you.  You break down on the ground as the feeling of leather slapping your back evolves from a thought to reality.  Voices cursing your name echo in the darkest void of your mind.

Taela: Do you feel that?  Do you hear it?   It is an experience only those who have been unfortunate to call themselves slaves feel.  Many do not survive.  Some endure.  And even fewer find an escape.  Taela is sorry for using illusion magics upon you.  It was the only way to express the sensation to those who do not understand.

You cough and gasp in life giving air as the heavy and burdensome dream disappears from you.  You stare at the ground for a minute to collect your scattered thoughts.  A few tears begin to well up in your eyes and you try to wipe them away.  You assure Taela that you are alright and wish for her to continue.  This is a moment you wish you would have rather been ignorant about.

Taela: Taela is relieved you are okay.  This is the first time this one has used her fearful eye in this manner and was afraid you would not come out of it.  Anyway, the story must go on.  Taela was not harmed any further during her blind trip to Vvardenfall.  This one was only about the age of seven during this instance.  However, when Taela got off the boat and the hood removed, life began getting worse.  Taela was bought by a rather well known Dunmer clan who owned a large plantation.  While it's true that Dunmer enslave races of all kinds, most on this estate were fellow litter mates and lizards. It is here when Taela met a friend who would protect her for the next seven years.  An Argonian named Tull.

Taela: Are you sure you are all right?

You snap out of it and realize you've been holding your head in your hands ever since the illusion spell wore off. 

Taela: It's seems you have a headache, no?  Probably a side effect of the vision Taela imposed on you.  Once again, she apologizes.

Taela stands up and walks to the kitchen to fetch a bucket of water for you.  You hold your head again and bite your lips as an unpleasant noise graces your ears.  Your flesh curls and shakes to the sound of a blood thirsty growl.  You turn your head back violently in search of the deadly creature.  But nothing is there.  Your host returns with a bucket of water and a stone cup.

Taela: Drink some water before we continue.  But don't be too hasty.  The nearest well is quite a ways away from this one's hut.

You quickly snatch the cup and scoop yourself some water and without thinking, you drink.  Your nerves are rattled and your heart is pounding.

Taela: If only Taela would have known her spell would have such painful drawbacks.  Though you look fine now now.  Shall we continue, yes?

You set the cup down gently and wipe away the sweat beads on your forehead.  You ask her with a shaky voice if there is a creature or pet of some sort inside her house.

Taela: Creatures in Taela's house?  If there were creatures in this ones house, she would be keen to find out.  No, nothing is here.  Well, that is not true.  We are here.  And maybe that stupid Dagi that took Taela's bread in the dead of night.  That, Taela is sure of.  But Mara be upon him, even if he's a conniving s'wit. Taela digresses.  Now just relax.  Your beginning to worry her.

You take her advice and start breathing deep, trying to make yourself comfortable on the plush pillow again. 

Taela: Good.  Now let us continue where we left off.  Jode and Jone danced with sorrow over their children's heads for many nights.  Taela found herself praying to Baan Dar to guide Taela in an escape.  Little did she know Baan Dar would give her this chance seven long years later.  Though the long years would be made not so long thanks to Taela's friend and escape mate, Tull.  This one was hesitant to make friends with this older Argonian at first  for two reasons.  Taela had always been distrustful of the swamp lizards and their ways.  But Taela has learned to put differences aside.  Also, if our master caught relationships forming among the slaves,  we would be hit with a whip made from the tentacle of a bull netch.  It was...unpleasant for Taela as she was whipped on a regular occasion.  It still was not as bad as what those damned Thalmor did to the Talos worshipers in Skyrim.  It was close though.  Other heinous acts were brought upon Taela.  But she does not wish to pollute your pure water with...mud.  However, her story in slavehood was not always so dark.  It was there where she learned to cast spells.  Specifically from scrolls found in her master's manor.  Specifically to help heal a wounded Tull, who was beaten for helping this one plow the saltrice.  When the master found out the scrolls had disappeared, he grew furious and ordered all slaves to stand in the rain until one would confess.  But Tull and Taela were not there.  We had found a dead betty netch near the plantation and Tull had "hatched" an idea.  It is funny because he was an Argonian.

You begin chuckle at the joke and place a hand over your mouth to drown out the laughter. 

Taela: It is always nice to know a joke did not go unlaughed at.  Now we must continue on with Khajiit's story outlander.  And at the end, you will be more the wiser. Yes.

You comb your scalp with your sandy fingers and adjust your body again; finding that perfect position where you can't help but close your eyes in peace. 

Taela: You look well comforted on Taela's pillow.  This one is happy to have accommodated you so nicely.

You nod your head politely and kindly allow Taela to carry on with her story.

Taela: Well now.  Khajiit remembers the plan all to well.  Tull had been on the plantation long enough to know about the migration cycles of the bull netches.  He cut out the dead betty netch's pheromone sac with a sharp rock and quickly handed it to me.  We were to wait until tomorrow when the netches were in mating season and toss the pheromone sac into the plantation.  Unfortunately for this one, two large and promiscuous bull netches had begun early and were heading towards Taela.  You may be laughing now, but this one has been...traumatized since.  All Khajiit heard was "throw".  And she did.  Next Taela heard was "N'wah" then followed by "Azura mercy!"  The bull netches did follow the sac and were chasing our slave master around the plantation with an unfettered will to mate with the poor Dunmer.

You fall to the floor holding your stomach in feverish laugh.  The circumstance, though odd,  tickle your fancy.  You take a deep breath to regain your composure.  You clench your ribs and your eye's begin to wince after your comedic episode.  The smile does not leave your face.

Taela:  We used that opportunity to escape the plantation while our master was...busy.  If Taela were to hazard a guess, she would say the plantation was near the great and illustrious city of Vivec.  In fact, This one remembers the soothing smell of the Inner Sea well enough to know we were close to the edge of Vvardenfell.  Making our escape even easier.  So Taela and Tull went south from the plantation in a wild sprint for blessed freedom.  Only at the young age of fourteen, Taela had seen enough abuse to last a life time.  Tears of joy rolled down khajiit's cheeks and this one's watery eyes nearly blinded Taela.  Tull saw that this one had slowed down to rub her eyes and quickly grabbed khajiit's hand and led her over a hill.  We took a moment to rest and beheld our next obstacle. The badlands.  Tall grass brushing against raw and open whip wounds was a most unpleasant and so was it for two agonizing days.  That is until Taela remembered the healing spell she had learned.

You remain silent and stare off into space, only to snap back to reality.  Taela's words did not go unnoticed and you take this moment to clear your throat and congratulate Taela on her escape.  Your host thanks you cordially and points out that dusk has passed. You glance out the window and notice the bright red Masser shining directly in your face.  You suddenly jerk out onto the floor grasping your back where the wound was, as if plunged with a crooked dagger.  Taela quickly rushes to your aid and lays a hand on your back.  Your convulsions cease and your heart slows to a steady beat.

Taela: Perhaps you should stay here where Taela could look after you.  Until you get better.  It would also save you the coin.

Your mind is still racing and all you hear is a muffled voice in the distance.  The menacing growl from earlier returns. Only more subtle this time.  You see the moons and your memory briefly arrives.  You slowly piece together that the incident that left you grotesquely mutilated must have taken place at around night.  However, your vision begins to fade like the receding waves off the shore.  Taela picks up your limp body and places you in a large cot against the side of the wall next to her bed.

Taela: Taela will keep a watchful eye on you friend.  Just drift off into sleep and take comfort that this one has got your back.

Taela: Ah, guest is alive after all.

You open your encrusted eyes, slowly taking in the morning light. Sitting up slowly, you hold your head with your right hand and try to scrub away the crust from your eyes with your left.  You can not discern if you slept well or not but it does not matter for you are wide awake.  You slowly turn your head to greet the one who let you use their spare bed in your time of need.  A small grin opens up on your sweat glistening face.

Taela: You look as if you lost a fight with a drunken Orsimer.  That is a complement if one does not recognize it as such.  Ah, but that is not what is on your mind.  You desire food, yes?

You nod your head for reasons your jumbled mind is unaware of, letting the khajiit lead you by the hand to a quaint wooden table adorned with a torn table cloth and placed adjacent to the window.  The chair emits a rather loud creaking noise as your body ways down on it.  Your host goes to the small kitchen area to whip up a quick breakfast.  You do not see how you can continue the story with Taela and desire to ask her to leave.  However, when she returns, you lose the nerve to ask the question. You can't quite understand why, but there is a part of you which once to stay. 

Taela: "All Taela has is roasted Durzog.  It may not appeal to your tastes, but it is all Khajiit has in her kitchens that is safe for you.  This one put plenty of spices and herbs to sweeten the lean taste."

You look down at the roasted durzog leg.  The rich and succulent smell of this alien cuisine erupts a waterfall of saliva from your mouth.  Picking up the leg, you sink your quivering teeth into the meat, letting the flavor of the spices and herbs commingle with your senses.  A tear rolls down your cheek as you chew the juicy durzog leg down to the brittle bone.  It tastes sweet but with a kick of spice.  The meat is tender yet does not strain your jaw when you chew.  Having finished, you drop the bone onto the wooden plate and lean back in your chair.  

Taela: This one is surprised you ate it so quickly!  This is good.  Now onto the matter at hand.  Taela is not blind and can see it in your eyes.  Your movements and gestures tells Khajiit many things about you.  And what these gestures are telling me is your yearning to leave.  Taela understands completely.  But you will not find your attacker in the memories of sands long since past.  Taela will make you a promise, only if you are willing to except the condition.  Taela will tell you what tore your back asunder in exchange for hearing Taela's tale.

You sit in the chair with a wooden expression on your face.  Stunned by Taela's words and reluctant to answer to her ultimatum, you sit in the squeaking chair trying to weigh out your options.  Though enjoying the company, you wish to continue on with your life outside the hut.  However, the prospect of learning what had happened that painful night is just too tempting to pass up on.  You make your decision.

Taela: Good, Taela promises her words are relevant and true.  Now, let's begin.  When Taela and Tull reached the edges of Vvardenfall, Argonian took charge and put Taela on his back.  For five days and four nights, he swam through the waters of the Inner Sea with only the determination of saving two souls fueling his ambition.  We slid underwater whenever passing ships from the mainland passed us by.  It was a terrible experience for a desert dweller such as myself.  This one's fur had matted and the salt from the sea had burned khajiit's eyes.  You don't start thinking about the creatures swimming around you until one bumps into you.  You become paranoid of danger.  This happened when the sight of the mainland shore became clearer past the blanket of fog.  Something, had bitten onto Tull's leg and we submerged for sometime.  Taela lost consciousness as khajiit and Argonian were pulled under the water.  This one only remembers waking up on the sands next to a battered but very much alive Tull.  His leg was gone, but there was no blood.  It was then this one's job to carry the Argonian just has he carried Taela. 

Taela: Taela was in another state of mind, unable to assess the situation.  Even the sight of exposed bone could not unearth this one's squeamish tendencies.  Tull spoke words of calm onto Khajiit to wake her up from her stupor.  Unfortunately for this one, he succeeded.  Taking a second glance at the Argonian's stump left a bone chilling sensation in this one's body.  Taela's heart sank deep and her stomach turned to knots.  This one quickly fell to her knees and released her stomach contents onto the crystal sands.  Tull thoughtfully took off his shirt and wrapped it gently around his wound.  He then proceeded to rub Taela's back and ease her suffering.  But Khajiit was not suffering from gory images, but by Tull's own pain.  Taela was overcome by emotions of empathy like no other she had felt before.  To actually feel the pain of others was too much for this one to bare.  These feelings even today linger in Khajiit's mind.  She asked him teary eyed, why does he not worry about the pain he is in.  Tull only chuckled, trying to use a nearby rock as a means for support.  He told Taela with that stupid grin on his face that the pain was only temporary if it meant saving this one's life.  That he would suffer a thousand wounds to bring Taela to safety.  Tull said that Taela reminded him of his young one who perished away when the Dunmer raided the Argonian border towns.  This one had forgotten up until then what it was like to be apart of a family, a clan, to have a father again.
 

You stare at Taela carefully and notice her eyes begin to well up.  Her voice, once clear, chokes on her words, only growing less discernible as she continues.  You look around frantically and pick up the old table cloth to offer it to Taela.  She takes the ragged cloth to dry her eyes. 

Taela:  A father's love for his child drove him to save this one.  And it was up Taela to return the love only a daughter could show.  To be there for him.  So she dried her eyes and became Tull's support.  We hobbled our way through the rest of Morrowind following the least crowded roads.  We only ate what Khajiit could find and drank as soon as the opportunity showed itself.  We made it to Argonia famished and tired beyond belief.  If it wasn't for an Argonian patrol passing by, we wood have succumb to our misery.  It was here when Taela and Tull bid our farewells.  He was to be taken by one party to inner Argonia to recover and start over while this one was to be escorted to Elsweyr.  He fought off the tears in his eyes as we waved our last goodbyes.  However, we both knew that Black Marsh was not hospitable for Taela's kind.  There is an empty hole in Taela's heart that Tull filled. 

You sit without motion and find yourself immediately caught in the moment.  You place an arm over your face and your breathing becomes heavier.  You remove your hand and see the ragged and weathered tablecloth presented in front of your eyes.  You accept the offer and press the fabric against your crying nose.  You do not want to be sucked into the drama.  But it becomes ever more difficult.

Taela:  The escorts did as they promised and brought Taela to the city of Orcrest.  It took a matter of two long and grueling weeks to reach her destination and become placed under custody by the city.  They tried to make contact with Taela's clan.  But all traces of them had disappeared; much like the cities of old are buried beneath the sands of the future.  No one, not even the Clan Mothers knew what had happened to this one's parents in the seven years she was gone.  At this point, Taela was placed in an orphanage until some family would be looking to adopt.  The caretaker was always nice to Taela, and had a warm smile.  Which made it much difficult when two khajiit's took pity on this one and adopted her two years later.

The bustling noise from outside slowly fades away with the sun, drawing it's final gasp of life with the loud shutting of doors.  The scene inside Taela's hut is quiet and still.  You place a hand over your mouth and clear your throat quietly as to avoid disturbing this sudden peace.  Ear's perked and eye's intently staring at the withering Khajiit sitting on the large circular pillow.  She gazes at the wooden floor trying to collect her thoughts; letting out a sigh every once in awhile.  The waxing candle to your right is almost gone, melting away with the hours.  Taela turns her head to you, intending to continue.

Taela: She can see your waning enthusiasm quite clearly; but Khajiit thanks you for staying as long as you have.  This one promises to finish her tale by tonight.  And then, we shall never meet again.  Or we shall.  But your memories of Khajiit will disappear with the eastward winds.  It is how you say...by design?  Taela is not surprised by the puzzled look on your face.  It is a mystery to Taela as well, but she will do her best to explain.  As has been spoken, Taela was brought into a loving home from the orphanage in Orcrest.  This one's new clan father was a Cathay-raht Dro'Zohko and his wife, a Cathay named Azzjarsi; an elderly couple from Torval.  They brought Taela back to her home city and took care of Taela for two years.  They were kind from time to time, but Dro'Zohko was addicted to Sujaama heavily.  He was not a happy drunk so to speak and we shall leave at that.  On the year four-hundred twenty-eight of the third era, Taela left her adoptive parents and joined the temple of the Cat Mother, Mara.  This one wanted to use her position in the temple to travel Tamriel looking for her lost parents.  But something quite strange happened to Taela's mind.  The memories of her parents began to fade and this one constantly found herself with a new goal; to help others.  But Taela's knowledge of restorative properties was miniscule at best.  It was disheartening knowing that this one was incapable of pursuing her dreams that she prayed to Mara.  Taela prayed for knowledge that could help others.  Mara heard Khajiit loud and clear and granted Taela knowledge to do so.

A smile breaks along your face as you reach for your back and admire Taela's handiwork.  Your skin is soft and easily reacts to the slightest change in temperature.  Taela smiles back at you and her eyes begin to water up.  You plant a friendly hand on her shoulders and try to cheer her up with your gratitude. 

Taela: Your words are like moon sugar to Khajiit's ear.  However, it only makes this one's story that much more difficult to tell.  But Alkosh moves forward and Taela has promised you closure by tonight's end.  The blessing Mara had given me was too much for Taela.  Much responsibility was needed to bare her gift.  It was the knowledge to renew Taela's body whenever old age had caught up.  The Cat god of benevolence had planned for Taela to use this power of infinite time to study healing magics to help all creatures in her name.  However, this gift had corrupted Taela most horribly.  Taela to this day hates herself for having such motives.  These terrible  motives were selfish.  Khajiit began have fantasies of grandeur.  To become the most famous healer in all of Tamriel.  It was no longer to help everyone, but to help herself.  This one harmed many in need of a priest of Mara, but who instead received an egotistical fetcher.  Mara cried for this one and was displeased with Taela much like a mother is upset by her disobedient cub, that she added to her blessing a condition to curb this one's poisonous dreams.  When Taela says that you will forget about her, it is because of this.  Taela's deeds are to be forgotten and her face is to slip behind the thick veil of the sandstorms.  It has...humbled Taela.  As to why Taela continues to serve as a healer?  It is simply because that is where Taela's heart is. Now you know how Taela has lived for so long.  The lessons she has learned and the hardships she has faced have made Taela a better khajiit.

The hut remains quiet for what seems like hours.  You sit there expressionless, trying to digest the information Taela has presented you..  She looks deep into your glazed eyes and you can't help but notice this and do the same.  When your eyes meet, a sweat bead conjures itself upon your forehead, running down your stone-like face, and leaps off from the tip of your nose into oblivion.  Taela slowly gets up and walks to a small book case by her ledger and plucks a dusty book from her collection. 

Taela: That is the end of Taela's tale.  Perhaps not the final end as this one plans to serve Mara much longer.  But there is something missing from her story.  Your closure.  This book Taela wrote should explain everything.  Come, it is now the time to say our goodbyes.

A friendly hand is placed on your shoulder signaling you to get up.  Taela leads your wayward body to the front door and she hands you the book gently.  You shake her hand but you wish to stay longer.  However, your soon delivered to the outside world with a book in your hand.

Taela: Before you depart, let Taela say one more thing.  She is truly sorry for that wound on your back.  Goodbye, friend.

The door then slams and the tumblers lock into place.  You look at the book Taela handed you.  It is titled A confession of a Friendless Friend.  You open the old book carefully and read.

A Confession of a Friendless Friend

By Anonymous

4E 34, 17th of Rain's Hand

In a small dank cave in High Rock, I write to you. It is my purpose to tell you what I am and to tell you why I am like this. I do not intend to change your mind about me, but to clarify my behavior when I am alone with my thoughts. My outer appearance is that of a Cathay, and you may see me by the Chapel of Mara helping those willing to receive her blessing from me. This however, is a facade to hide what I really am. I love helping others, but something is on my mind every time I lay hands on a sick person. They like me for what I am doing in the moment, however if I were to tell them of my true nature, I would be cast out of the chapel or worse!

Before I tell you of my true nature, I want to ask you a question. What would you do in my situation? When I look up at the moon a sense of euphoria enters my body. A feeling of hatred then overwhelms mind. All this pent up frustration I keep bottled inside breaks loose and I loose consciousness. This anger comes from the fact that no one accepts me for what I have become. Constantly helping others only to know that they would sooner kill me if they knew the truth. I had dreams of grandeur such as becoming the most famous healer in all of Tamriel. But this dream is crushed with the realization of my true nature among other things. I find myself never speaking my name just in case word gets out. I envy you. People may know your name and you have potential to be great. I however have lost that ability. By now you are probably struggling to guess what I am. Well don't worry as all that will be mentioned soon.

Last week at the time of this writing was the last straw that prompted me to write to you. For the first time in my life, I met someone who I believed to be the one. The Gods seemed to be smiling on me when I met him all those months ago. He came to me for help as he had a gash on his arm. I quickly healed his wound and he thanked me greatly. For three months, we were interested in each other but lived away from each other. It was not until last week when he saw me in one of my "episodes". In utter distraught he ran from my house and called the guards. I quickly left the town only to look back and see a mob form outside my now abandoned house. Anger flashed in their eyes as every man, woman, and child stood outside wielding all sorts of weapons.

I am a friend to others, but no one is a friend to me. The charity I give is something I can not receive and I am fine with that. I travel from city to city, province to province, my name always hidden. We all have problems we must come to acceptance with and fight them when we have done so. I'm on a quest to fight this at the moment. Whether people want to help me or not is up to them as I personally do not care. If you still have trouble guessing my true nature...then I guess Hircine has helped me well.

A shadowy figure sits in an ill lit corner of a tavern in Torval, silently watching the Khajiit's partake in moon sugar baked goods and telling truthful lies. They pay no attention to their observer; but are not oblivious to it's presence.  The Khajiit's whisper words in their tongues undecipherable to a layman in linguistics as to hide their conversations.  The dark figure slumped over the table with a book in their hands is you.   Having not left the tavern in five days since you last saw Taela has made you an uncomfortable topic among the local bar patrons.  But you do not move when they ask you to; nor respond when confronted by the worried passerby.  Outside words cannot penetrate this bubble of isolation you've placed upon yourself.  Your lost in your thoughts.  An interference then brings you back to reality as your eyes stare daggers at the perpetrator.  It is a robed Khajiit who hides her face with a blue embroidered hood and ragged scarf; her eyes are the only part of her visible.  You do not speak.

???: You know who this one is even if your tongue dares not utter Khajiit's name.  You have every right to hate this one's guts and Khajiit will not blame you if you strike her. But Khaji-

A clenched fist strikes Taela in the face with great speed and precision, catching the Khajiit off guard.  The scene grows quiet in the tavern, as curious eyes gaze upon your secluded hideaway.  Taela only raises her hand to signal to the other patrons that things are fine and to continue on with their business.  She turns her head back to you with a hand placed on her cheek. 

Taela: You strike well.  Perhaps you will find welcome in the martial arts of the Rain-of-Sand style.  This one deserves a thousand strikes to even be worthy of apologizing to you.  But it is why Taela is here now.  To tell you her final tale before she goes away for a long time.  To tell you why she is claimed by both the Cat of Benevolence and the Tiger of the hunt.  In the vast deserts of mystery lies a grain of truth hidden among millions of lies about Taela.  She will show you this speck of knowledge hidden behind a veil of deceit. 

You form your fist into a ball a second time, but restrain yourself from hitting Taela again.  Finally looking up, you see a quivering Khajiit averting her eyes in expectation of another blow to the face.  A tear rolls down your eyes and you can't help but slam your head with such force against the table in a sobbing mess; startling the patrons yet again.  The crowd tries to ignore your outburst and goes back to their usual routine as Taela sits there, watching you writhe in your seat.  Minutes go by as your wailing calms down and your tears dry up.  You lift your soaked head from your arms and wipe the viscous snot from your nose. 

Taela: This one has betrayed your trust.  Taela has betrayed her own trust in herself in causing you great pain and will slowly lose her mind if she does not confess herself to you.  Will you allow Khajiit to explain herself?

You are reluctant to answer, but eventually nod in the end.  You have no foreseeable plans and the prospect of knowing the full story only peaks your interest further.

Taela: Taela will cut to the heart of the issue as to spare you the trouble.  It is true that Taela is claimed by both Mara and Hircine.  It is true that she is a werelion.  It is true that she attacked you on that fateful night in a flurry of blind ecstasy.  But this one does not personally bend her knee to the god of the hunt.  Such a curse was forced upon Taela in Hammerfell on the first year of the fourth era.   She was busy with mission work in the area and was on her way to Elinhir to aid local temples.  It was a cold and unbearable night.  The kind of night that stir up stories of creatures so terrifying as to leave you on edge the whole night.  But she gave no attention to feelings of uncertainty and paid the price.  Like yourself, she also was attacked by Hircine's hunting dogs.  But she was too naive to realize what Khajiit was dealing with.   To Khajiit, the creature was no more than a large wolf.  The were-creature only struck Khajiit once and fled.  This one got up bleeding from the arm and feeling woozy.  Taela healed her arm, but foolishly took no previsions to stop to curse of Hircine.  So many sleepless nights after that event.  Urges of blood lust tainting Taela's mind.  The voice of the Tiger of the hunt himself whispering commands in Taela's ears to glorify him.  As a priestess of Mara, Taela could bare to cope with her new identity, and adamantly began seeking for a cure.  As you can tell, this search was fruitless.  Taela does not wish to harm another anymore.  Taela was contemplating her next move when you wandered in to her hut that day.  To actually be speaking to the prey that got away was too much for Taela to handle and she finally was persuaded.  You act as an inspiration to this one.  It is why Taela must go.  So that others can sleep easily under the moons.  Rumors of magic long forgotten by Hircine's worshipers as made found it's way to Taela's ears.  She goes in search of these worshipers to remove this blight Khajiit suffers.  This one is feeling....lucky about this lead that she must leave so swiftly.  Now you know everything about Taela.  You have heard the winds none shall hear.  Seen the truth buried beneath the sand.  Whether you come along or not is unimportant to Taela.  It is your decision and she will abide by it.  But whatever choice you make, you must make quickly as Taela has no time.

You do not answer right away.  But her words did not fall upon deaf ears.  You look at the Khajiit and begin to smile; getting up and shaking her hand.  Your body is much more lively.  Joints begin to crack from being unused for such a long period.  Taela hesitantly grasps your hand tightly and leads you outside.  Your shield your dilated eyes from the bright sunlight.  Taela turns you to face her

Taela: This one understands.  She is glad you can at least forgive her.  Whatever decisions may lie ahead, Taela can only pray they bring you happiness.  Perhaps one day our paths will meet again?  Well then, it is only customary that Taela bids you farewell.  May you walk on warm sands...friend.

Taela walks towards the city gates, but not before giving you a final wave goodbye.  You wave back jubilantly as the the wooden doors slowly creak open.  Your friend, finally turns around to begin her adventure.  You stand there solemnly thinking of your own.