I remember it just like it was yesterday. I was only seven winters old.
It all began with several sharp taps at the door. Someone outside was yelling for my mother.
Panic rose on my mother's tanned, young face making her wrinkles and lines far more visible. My mother was not a big woman, she was rather thin, but obviously not frail or dainty. Her blue eyes were framed with dark eyelashes and the most beautiful golden-blond hair. Her hands were as iron the way they calloused from years of working in the mines. Her forehead whispered of age and her laugh lines dared to make an appearance whenever she was upset, but even still she was absolutely beautiful.
"Sartyl, look at me." My mother pleaded with a cracked, strained voice. Even through her panic a thick Nordic accent rang. I took my gaze from my feet and slowly looked into her watery, bloodshot eyes. "Sartyl, I need you to be brave now. There's guards outside who are going to take me away. I need you -"
"Where are they going to take you, Momma?" I was so confused. Why were the guards going to take my mom? What had she done?
Mother sighed and weighed her options carefully. "I won't lie to you little one, they've come to take me to sovrngarde."
I didn't understand. How could the guards take my mother to sovrngarde without…oh no… By Talos, it couldn't be. She couldn't possibly mean they were gonna -
The horror of realization clung to my throat like a Creep Cluster to rock. I shuddered. "They're gonna kill you, Momma?"
"Yes, my little dartwing." My mother spoke so softly it was hard to hear her over the incessant banging on our door.
"But why Momma? Why?" My pleas fell on deaf ears we both heard the sound of wood splinter into oblivion. Guards flooded the house and began to make their way up our stairs. My mother threw me into a chest, but, in her haste, forgot to lock it.
Through the keyhole, I saw the boots of several Morthal guards rush in. My mother stood between the guards and the chest. One of the guards forced her to her knees and another said, "Luella Shrouded-Hearth, you have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people, what say you in your defense?"
My mother whimpered, "I've no gold. No possessions worth trade. No skills worthy of mention. I admit to my crimes. Sovrngarde awaits."
The guard spat on her. "There's no hope for Sovrngarde after all that you've done." What had Mother done? What could possibly be so bad that she is not welcomed into Sovrngarde? The guard that pushed her down bound her hands and forced her harshly upright. The wooden floor did creak in sadness as I watched her leave and descend down the stairs.
The guard that spat on my mother turned his back to me and faced his what remained of his men to say, "Search the house for the child. She is to be brought to an orphanage. Poor thing, probably never knew."
My heart began to pound and I broke out into a cold sweat. An orphanage? I did not wish to live in an orphanage.
My lips betrayed me and allowed a small whimper to pass. I sucked in my breath, realizing the guard had heard me.
Not seconds later, one guard found me. He lifted the lid of the trunk up and looked upon me with a great deal of dismay.
He took his helmet off to reveal blonde hair and skin that whispered of years working under the sun.
He looked at me with his amber eyes filled to the brim with pity. When he spoke I could tell he was a true Nord. "Come here, youngling. I won't hurt you." He offered me a hand to help get me out of the chest, but I refused it and pulled myself out.
After I dusted off my red tunic, he spoke again, in a soft, coaxing tone. "Listen very carefully, okay? I have to take you to an orphanage. Your mother has to go take care of some things. Sadly, it isn't possible for her to return anytime soon, I'm afraid." He put his helm back on but I was still stuck with that one word he'd said.
Orphanage.
I, Sartyl Shrouded-Hearth the daughter of Oeluveer Shrouded-Hearth who was the emporer's right-hand before the Incident, will have nothing.
The guard was really trying not to upset me, but I already knew what was to transpire in the coming days. I truly would become an orphan.
No mother.
No father.
Nothing.
A few untameable tears fell from my watery eyes. I furiously wiped them away, not wanting the guard to see them.
The guard's expression softened a great deal more. He looked at me as though he felt sorry for me. I just wanted to leave the guard's presence as soon as possible.
More than anything, I just wanted to leave Morthal.
As we walked to the orphanage, the guard muttered something about Cyrodiil and friends he knew. He then exclaimed, "I must find a courier!!" His sudden change in volume caused me to jump. He apologized to me, not meaning to jostle or frighten me in any way.
We made a detour on our way to the stables. The guard stopped at the Courier's post. When he walked in, one of the couriers jumped up and greeted him. The courier was obviously young, maybe 17 or 18. He was tall with a slender frame, like most couriers. His eyes were full of hope and vigor. I had a feeling he was more than happy to leave Morthal. "Captain Bolliviir, have you a letter in need of transporting? Where to this time?"
Capt. Bolliviir nodded. "Aye, lad. I will, but before that, need an ink well, a quill and some parchment. I'll be sure you receive enough to grab some mead on your trip as well, Selmius." Bolliviir winked.
Selmius scurried about the small shack hurriedly grabbing what had been requested. He handed everything over to Bolliviir and offered him a seat so he could write.
Bolliviir quickly scrawled out a letter and sealed it with wax. He handed it to Selmius and said, "This is to go to Cortumelorius and Fautina Lovidicos in the Imperial City. You got that?"
Selmius nodded. "Imperial City, Cyrodiil. Cortumelorius and Fautina Lovidicos. Got it." He finished his statement and realized he had forgotten something. "That will be 700 septims, Capt. Bolliviir."
Bolliviir handed him a pouch of at least 1000 septims. As Selmius was ready to object, Bolliviir waved his hand and bid him safe travels. Selmius waved back and sprinted out the door.
Bolliviir got up from his chair and looked over at me. "He's a good kid, that Selmius. Hard-worker, but he's far too trusting." I had nothing to add, so just nodded.
Captain Bolliviir and I walked to silence. Until we stopped at a carriage and Bolliviir asked me if I needed help to get up into the carriage. Though I wanted to protest, I decided against and allowed him to help me into the carriage.
The stocky, blonde Nord that drove the carriage waited patiently until we were situated. Then he said in a melodic, but strong voice, "Where to, Captain Bolliviir?"
"This time I have some business in Riften. But when we get there stay right outside the gates. I'll only be in there a short bit."
The carriage driver nodded. "You got it Capt'n!"
The ride was long and as dusk approached Bolliviir began to convince me to sleep. I refused for several hours until I became so exhausted a fell asleep in his lap. He nudged me awake as we approached a city as gloomy as myself.
The stone walls were painted with moss and mold. The skies seemed to hang low and draw darker the closer we came. The trees seemed lifeless as we neared the city.
I knew. This must be Riften, Home of the Thieves Guild. The Thieves Guild was a name that sent chills down the spine of every man, woman, and child in Skyrim. The Thieves Guild had a good hold on all of the Jarls of Skyrim.
Bolliviir jumped out and helped me down. As we passed the carriage driver Bolliviir said, "I'll be right back." The carriage driver nodded. Bolliviir grabbed his guard's helm from his pack and slipped it onto his head.
The guards opened the gates upon sight of Capt. Bolliviir.
Bolliviir ushered me promptly to the orphanage on the opposite side of the town.
He opened the door to a cold-looking stone orphanage. I walked in ahead of him and took all of it in. The hearth burned with all it's flaming might, but it still could not warm the cold, desolate feeling that had settled upon me. A rather young-looking Nord woman appeared from the room beside the hearth and looked from me to the guard, and she ever-so-slightly rolled her eyes.
That was all the proof I needed to hate her.
She drew herself to her full height and addressed the guard with a tone of seething, untamed hatred, "Bolliviir, how nice to see you again. What is it that you have brought to me this time, hm?"
Captain Bolliviir stiffened a bit. "Ah Grelod the Kind, still as sweet and loving as Sithis himself, I see." Grelod scoffed at him. I could tell that Bolliviir, though his face was masked beneath his helm, was quite proud of himself. "This child was recently orphaned and will remain here in the meantime. I -"
Grelod the Kind cut him off, "This girl is at least six or seven winters old There is no hope that she will be adopted. Nobody wishes for an old youngling."
Bolliviir made a dismissive gesture and continued. "I sent word to some friends of mine yesterday whom I am certain will be interested. Until their arrival, I pray you will keep her safe, well-fed, and happy?"
Grelod considered this. "I suppose it would not hurt me to look after this young one. How soon will these "friends" of yours be arriving?"
Bolliviir thought for a moment before saying, "If Talos favors us, perhaps in a couple of weeks. If not, a month or so."
Grelod the Kind put out her hand expectantly. Bolliviir dug in his pocket and handed her a small sack of coins.
Grelod smiled a wicked smile that twisted my insides. "I'll see to it that the girl gets to them."
"Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to Morthal. The guards lose their heads when I am away for too long." With that he rushed back out the door.
That was one of the last time I saw Bolliviir. I received news a few weeks later, in Cyrodiil, that something called the Dark Brotherhood had murdered him while he was on guard.