I open my eyes to find myself waking up in yet another unfamiliar location ( just a perk of being an adventurer.) The view is beyond breathtaking, I am taken aback as I gaze upon the delicate spider webs, which are draping over the glowing nirnroot, glistening with the morning dew. Just when I think the view couldn't possibly get better, I look to the makeshift campsite we made last night and see… him. Utmaad.

Utmaad has saved my life, time after time. When I was 5 years old, I guess you could say I was a happy child. Although I was far too young to remember any of the pleasant times. My father left my mother before I was born, I've never met him and I don't anticipate meeting him in the future. My mother was murdered in the early hours of the morning on my 5th birthday. I may have been too young to remember my early childhood, but even now, I shudder at the thought of her screaming, begging them not to take me as well. I still remember the thick crease of a scar that ran through the man's face in a diagonal line. I still remember him whispering in my ear in his raspy tone saying, the fate of the world lies in your hands, little one. I never knew what he meant by that.

The very next day my mothers body was cremated in Whiterun, and a gruff guard snatched me up and put me into the back of a carriage, as I was crying violently an elderly woman with wide, crazy eyes held her hand too hard over my mouth and said, "Listen to me you filthy little brat. You don't have parents anymore. We're taking you to Honorhall where the rest of the rats live."

My heart was filled with grief and terror as I looked to the other side of the carriage and saw him for the very first time. Utmaad. He was fascinating to me, It was the very first time I had ever laid eyes on a Dunmer. It wasn't the giant black eyes, or the pale blue-grey skin. It was the overwhelming feeling of safety that came over me just from looking at him.

He noticed me staring and spoke with calming words," I'm afraid too…" . We must have been riding in that carriage for days together. Each night it became wickedly freezing, forcing Utmaad and I to huddle together for warmth. The old woman revealed her name to us, Grelod the Kind. I remember even then how I questioned the irony of her name. She was quite the contrary.

The day we reached Honorhall Orphanage, was the day life ceased to be a happy existence. We were forced to scrub the floor boards, make Grelod's bed, among many other tedious chores. That wasn't the bad part.

The beatings were for the majority senseless fits of unbridled rage. I often wonder what made Grelod so angry. I know realize she must have been through something terrible. I will never forgive her, and yet, without her misery causing tactics, I wouldn't be where I am today.

When I was 15 and Utmaad was a month away from becoming 18, the planning started. We both knew that when Utmaad turned 18 he would have to leave the Orphanage. By law he would be an adult. By law he could adopt me. But of course, Grelod would never allow it.

Upon this realization planning quickly turned to plotting. Utmaad and I were going to escape on the night before his 18th birthday, and head for Windhelm. There were rumors of a special home for all the Dunmer.

x

The night of the escape approached faster than we had anticipated, and we were ready as ever to leave the horrid life we'd been living for the past ten years.

Although I was excited, I'll never forget the way the adrenaline was washing over me like a violent tsunami. I was shaking with fear when Utmaad placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, and kissed my forehead. He spoke with his the same words that had calmed me years before," I'm afraid too." Of course, this was a gesture of friendship. The kiss meant nothing more than that, I was sure.

By the time I was this age I knew how things were, I knew that Nords couldn't love Dunmer. Grelod had taught us that with an all-too memorable beating when she found us holding hands one evening at the dinner table. I also knew that Utmaad loved me, but never more than a friend. It was okay with me at the time. It was enough to have the firmness of his hugs, the kindness of his words, his laughter, his charm.

We stood next the the window of the orphanage, I grabbed my small knapsack and the purse of of coins we had taken from Grelod's room. We needed money for food and I didn't feel bad for stealing from Grelod. She had stolen my childhood, 30 Septim was hardly a fair price to pay.

Utmaad stood just outside the window and started to help me through. I had only gotten one foot out the window when I felt a sharp tugging at the end of my nightgown. Startled, I turned to see that no one was there. I knew when I heard her tiny voice that all I had to do was look down a few feet. Her voice made my heart cringe as she spoke with sadness," Please don't go Momma! Please don't go!." beneath me stood a small Breton girl named Elyza Ravenshaw. She was only 4. She was convinced that I was her mother, and who was I to deny her? Her innocent blue eyes glistened with tears. I turned to Utmaad and look at him with a question left hung in my eyes," What do we do?".

He leaned in close, whispering to me," We could take her with us if that is your wish."

I spoke somberly in reply, "She will never make it, we don't have enough money." I had made up my mind… Elyza meant the world to me but she needed to stay here. I'd informed her of our escape plan in simpler terms that a toddler would understand and she'd been against it ever since. I felt putrid. The only mother figure she had ever known, leaving her. Abandoning her just like she had been abandoned by her real parents a few years before. My thoughts were interrupted by a sharp jostling of the door knob. I knew It was Grelod before she had the time to barge in with her wild eyes glaring. We'd been caught escaping.

Before I had the time to react, Utmaad had yanked me from the window and we began running full speed towards freedom. I had never felt so free. As we reached the gates of Riften, my enthusiasm died as I heard Elyza screaming from the pain of her beating.

x

My reminiscing was interrupted by a strong hand on my shoulder. Utmaad. His warm voice was like a thick syrup of happiness drifting through my veins," Care for some breakfast, Annastasia?" Every word he spoke to me made my heart jump no matter the simplicity of the statement. I stuttered in reply," S-sure." He pulled out a sweet roll we had gotten last night at the Candlehearth Hall. Our camp was not far from there, the riverside shack near Witchmist Grove.

After we ate our breakfast, we set off for yet another adventure. I was feeling bold. Like all of Tamriel was about to change.