FORWARD
The first chapter is purely informative, hoping to give you a look at how the character developed from childhood, with second and third chapters jumping into the story of how she ended up in the Imperial Prison- better written and full of details. The storyline of Oblivion is left more in the background with the unique perspectives, feelings, and reactions of this individual in the foreground. The girl is completely fresh and unprepared for her destiny. She is not another hero enduring a hero's trial, but is a normal citizen enduring a hero's trial and she doesn't start out brave, kind or heroic. She is new and inexperienced just like our characters in the beginning of the game. Please read the first two chapters and then leave criticism please!
INTRODUCTION
The air was cold and damp. The unmistakable smell of must and mold filled the dim, cramped jail cell. Moss and slimy mold covered the large sediment stone that made up the prison's floor, walls, and ceiling. Strong iron bars with a state-of-the-art lock secured the cell from the rest of the dungeon. Up against the right wall was a small table and chair made of cracked and rotting wood, hardly big enough for an adult to comfortably sit. An orange clay plate and pitcher sat on top, dusty, bare and bone dry. Directly across from the table on the left side of the cell hung loose chains and shackles, reserved for the city's most violent criminals and the dangerously insane. On the back wall was a single barred window; too high to ever see a view other than the sky above and too small to adequately light the room. An oil lamp on the prison wall burned, helping to illuminate the cell but once night fell, there would be barely enough light to see. Below the window on the ground laid a thin mat made of coarse straw. It contained little cotton and didn't offer much comfort but it did provide a place to sleep that wasn't rock hard stone. And in the center of the cell, obviously out of place, stood a young Altmer maiden. However, to call this woman an Altmer would be inappropriate and a lie by the standards of many Altmers, especially those in her home village. To be a true Altmer, one must have pure untainted Altmer blood and she was not pure. Believing their race to be descendants of the gods rather than merely created by them, they arrogantly held their race superior to all others. This maiden was only half-Altmer, a fact she was both aware and constantly reminded of her entire life. Anxious and distressed she observed her environment. Her desolate and dirty surroundings began to overwhelm her, and she suddenly desired sleep, the only escape. She crouched down to the mat, and wiped her hand across the coarse straw. Dust, dirt, and debris dispersed into the air and to the ground. She positioned herself stiffly on her side, her knees bent up towards her chest; the mat was too short for her long legs. Her eyes began to sting with tears as she thought of her home, her parents, and how the hell she got herself into this.
CH-1: EVERYONE HAS A PAST
Her Mother
This maiden had never visited Cyrodiil before. She lived all twenty years of her life in the small, isolated, and exclusive village of Nobilwyn, deep in the heart of Summerset Isle and restricted to only the wealthiest, most privileged and well-bred Altmer. Even other Altmers who didn't meet the village's high standards were often considered lowly and inferior. Founded in a valley south of Cloudrest, it is heavily guarded by natural barriers of mountains and forests. The only entrance to the secluded village is a narrow fissure between the mountain cliffs that runs 2 miles long and only 50 yards wide, keeping the village easily defended with watch posts and mindful of all citizens coming in and going out.
The girl's mother, Amanra, was a pure Altmer, a warrior and intellectual, and an expert in nearly all skills of combat, magic, and agility. Born in Summerset Isle, Amanra explored every corner and island near and around her country. As her fame and valor grew many warriors and soldiers revered her as a leader and followed her loyally in the battles against the Sload necromancers that plagued Summerset Isle. It was by a stroke of luck that Amanra earned a place in the exclusive village of Nobilwyn, which was notorious for its impeccable schools, zero-tolerance for crime, and lavish lifestyle of its citizens. She and her small contingent of men were tracking a particularly dangerous raiding party of necromancers for several days waiting for the most opportune time to strike. These necromancers, heavily equipped with enchantments protecting them from magical attacks, set their sights on the small rich village of Nobilwyn. The village, seeing the enemy approach, sent their strongest battle mages to meet the threat far from the city gates hoping for victory away from the village and its citizens. Because they were unaware of the magical protection the necromancers carried with them and unable to skillfully fight with normal weapons, the mages began to retreat soon after engaging the enemy. Seeing the opportunity to surprise the necromancers from behind and funnel them in the passage, Amanra and her men leapt into action, hacking and slashing, leaving behind corpses and severed limbs until all of the enemies were dead. They approached the gates of Nobilwyn. In awe of the strength and skill of this Altmer warrior and eternally grateful for being spared certain death, the village council extended an invitation to her, in lieu of their laws and traditions. They would not require official documentation of five generations of blood lineage, a clean arrest record, or expertise in magic. Her wealth and genealogy didn't matter. And while she was a powerful mage they didn't bother to inquire about her magickal skills either. During an honorary celebration for her and her men they offered her the finest house in the village in hopes she would stay and continue to protect the city. Tempted but not satiated in her hunger for adventure she politely declined. Feeling snubbed and disappointed but eternally grateful with their lives, the villagers promised her an open invitation hoping she'd one day return.
After many years of travel, battles and adventures she became stronger, wiser and wealthier, and inevitably bored with Summerset Isle. The necromancers were dispersed and no longer much of a threat. She was ready for something new. She was ready for Cyrodiil. It was in Cyrodiil, in a shop in Kvatch, where she met an Imperial Guard on patrol. Through time and circumstance they eventually fell in love which resulted in the birth of their daughter. Ready to finally settle down, she pondered where her daughter could grow up safely, where she'd have the best education and life. She immediately thought of Nobilwyn. Knowing they had the finest teachers, safest community, and with she herself being so homesick, she decided she would put the villager's word to the test. She would return, nearly ten years later, bringing with her an Imperial husband and an interracial daughter, both forbidden as residents in their exclusive village.
Her Father
Her father Xavier -an Imperial- was the other half of her, the one who tainted his daughter's blood as far as the villagers were concerned. This kind and noble Imperial Guardsman fell hard for Amanra's exquisite beauty and free spirit during her travels through Cyrodiil. As a traveling Guardsman, he'd often detour off of his Gold Road route to loot treasure caves and goblin hunt. He sold all sorts of merchandise he had looted during his frequent stops in Kvatch, ranging from gemstones to pelts to scavenged weapons and armor, and so he became a talented trader and good with money. He'd even assist travelers in need by selling them meat, weapons, and repairing equipment which supplemented his menial income. During a fateful visit to a merchant in Kvatch he met Amanra, who was selling her scavenged treasures as well. She stopped only briefly to engage him in chit-chat about their surroundings and possible caves and ruins nearby. Then she was gone. Completely smitten by Amanra during their brief meeting, his visits to the Kvatch merchants became much more frequent for several weeks- even when he had nothing to sell. Disappointed that she had not been heard from in weeks, he somberly continued his Gold Road route and Guardsmen duties. But one day, in the middle of the road, there she was! A Minotaur beast and his mate had engaged their prey- the Altmer Amanra. His heart beating with both the excitement of seeing her and the fear of seeing her fighting against two large beasts, he unsheathed his silver long sword and charged ahead. In a moment of testosterone fueled stupidity, he roared, and majestically jumped from his horse, leaping towards a Minotaur beast. And he missed. As he fell to the ground all he could see was a Minotaur dodging away and the bewildered expression on a pretty woman's face. His steel armor clattered and clanked as he hit the ground face down. When he recovered his senses and rose to his feet, the Minotaur pair was dead, Amanra's sword was sheathed and a chuckled escaped from her pretty pink lips as their eyes met. From there they laughed and talked all the way back to Kvatch- together. Amanra was charmed by his brave attempt at rescue, cheerful demeanor, rugged handsomeness and his infatuation with her that he later admitted to. He became a welcome companion on her journeys between Anvil and Skingrad. And when she was alone again on her travels she actually FELT alone and realized he was the first companion she ever deeply missed. As if a God had slapped her in the face, she awoke and realized there was another adventure she had never endured: Love and Motherhood. Xavier was thrilled that she had returned to him to confess her love, so he vowed to stay by her side no matter where she went. He no longer cared for his bachelor status and, bored with his Imperial duties, he decided to retire to adventure by her side. However within weeks of their union, he would no longer allow Amanra to venture into danger. She was pregnant. Upon realizing there was no where she'd rather be than in Summerset Isle, Xavier left behind his life in Cyrodiil determined to start fresh with the loves of his life; Amanra and their daughter Ami.
The Daughter
How she hated her name. It was her father's idea of course. High Elves prefer regal, glorious names over the common and mundane. "It combines Amanra and me. Am-me. It was either that or A-ma-me," he'd jokingly explain to her when she asked about her name. How corny, she thought, but it could've been worse I suppose.
Even with mixed blood she was obviously of High Elf descent. Her features were softer and less jagged than most High Elves, but she still had the unmistakable high cheekbones and fair, luminous complexion. Her skin lacked the intense golden shimmer common to Altmers, but her skin still emitted a sparkly glow when under the sun's rays. She stood at 6ft, two inches taller than her father, but still several inches shorter than a typical High Elf. Her eyes were hazel and shimmered with bright green and gold tones just like her father. Her hair was just like her father's too. The dead giveaway to her interracial blood, her hair was a rich chocolate-mahogany, a far cry from the satin, golden, and dirty blonde hair color of her kin. Even the brunettes in her village sparkled with blonde highlights in the sun, but her hair seemed to glow with hot embers, like dark streams of lava in rivers of chestnut and obsidian. "Blood and mud," her classmates would snidely whisper in each other's ears, but strangely audible enough for her to hear. As a child she developed the strange habit of associating her personality and physical traits to each one of her parents: late to class/ mother, quick learner/ mother, clumsy/ father, hair color/ father. In fact, most of her less desired traits she usually would attribute to her father although it didn't make her love him any less. There wasn't a man alive who loved his child more than he did. However, while Ami felt proud and elite in her heritage as a High Elf, at the same time she felt defective and self-conscious especially growing up in the stuffy village of Nobilwyn. While her mother only had the best intentions for her daughter, Ami secretly wished she could live somewhere, anywhere else. Her mother's reputation and wealth kept most of the adults' mouths in check but the other children were quite relentless with their overt gossip and teasing on matters such as her mixed race, Imperial father, the family alchemist being a Breton, and most of all her star sign: the Atronach.
The Atronach
There isn't a worse zodiac sign for an Altmer than the Atronach. Almost all Altmers throughout Tamriel are very careful of one thing when they decide to procreate. They never try to conceive if, in the calculated future, the child would be born under the sign of the Atronach. More worldly and liberal High Elves may see this only as an inconvenience or tough luck but to the proud, pure, and arrogant citizens of Nobilwyn it's a joke, a bad omen, and should be carefully avoided. After all, Altmer are the most gifted of all races in the arcane arts. Their mana wells naturally run deeper and their prowess and mastery of magick are without equal. Even as a child, an Altmer can cast powerful spells and recharge at lightning speed which a well trained adult foreigner could only match after lifelong dedication. The best mages can practice spells over and over, all day and night, and quickly unlock the secret knowledge to becoming superb in most schools of magick. But to an Altmer, being an Atronach without the ability to recharge one's own magickal power is like being a cripple. Advancement becomes slow and difficult, or quite expensive. The Atronach's blessing of deeper magicka wells hardly supplements the negative effect. A skilled mage can cast powerful spells, immediately regenerate, and then cast another, not to mention they could use magickal enchantments to fortify even more magickal energy. An Atronach's ability to absorb energy from spells certainly helps but only half of the time. Altmers, being more sensitive to magickal energy, wouldn't risk being blown to bits by a massive fireball attack just so they could, maybe, absorb the energy. Therefore most Altmers strive to conceive at the most optimum times, hoping for a birth under the Mage or Apprentice, or really anything other than the Atronach. The inability to control one's primal urges for three to four weeks out of the year is considered among the Altmer to be beastly, unrefined, and quite shameful.
So there she was, the product of her parents' ill-timed union: Atronach, she thought…hmm…she was unsure who to blame that on. When she was a wee child this wasn't so much of a problem for her in her spell training classes at school. Her magicka source was easily double the size of her classmates. Class was usually over before she was completely depleted and from there she went home, where her mother waited for her, with a potion to restore her magicka in hand. But as she grew older so did the other children, and so did the length of her classes. When she began to empty before her spell classes ended, her classmates would groan and roll their eyes, knowing they'd have to wait on her, for their Alchemist professor down the road to make her a potion and bring it to her. As her magick source deepened by twelve years old, she had become too expensive for the school to continuously provide potions for, and so Amanra was asked to supply her daughter with her own means to regenerate. Ami was considered "the slow one" by the village's teachers and she so badly wished her parents had been more careful when they were… doing it. Insecure/father she noted. Knowing Ami's only option for regeneration was in alchemy, Amanra left Summerset Isle to seek out an old friend from Cyrodiil, Brennon the Breton.
A loner and old friend of Amanra's, he eagerly left Cyrodiil for Summerset Isle. Freelance alchemists weren't making much money at the time so he jumped at the opportunity for free room and board, steady pay and the chance to advance his skills in alchemy. After kindly reminding the villagers of their lifelong debt to her, Amanra was given permission to bring in another foreigner. He began to steadily produce potions for Ami- five a day- but as winter approached, ingredients became harder to find and more expensive to purchase. Her much needed potion supply dwindled and the cost was no longer sustainable during the winter months. Before long her teacher, just as exasperated as the students, began to resent that she slowed the class down. After a respectful but stern conference with Amanra, it was made clear Ami could stay in class as long as her magicka wells allowed, but would be dismissed immediately after depletion for the good of the other students.
Practice
Amanra was not at all like the other High Elves. She was just as beautiful, graceful, and magickally skilled, but she was also a proud yet humble warrior. Rarely would an Altmer be described as humble and even less often could they handle a sword as magnificently as she did. Most of the Altmer in her village wouldn't want to callous their hands especially when they could just flick their wrists and throw a fireball. Even after their vulnerability during the necromancers' attack, none really took to weapons training. She made sure her daughter did though.
She took the opportunity to train her daughter in the art of battle immediately after she was dismissed from class. Everyday from then on, Ami excitedly ran home from school, threw her books to the side and dressed in her specially made leather armor. She was the only child in Nobilwyn to own armor. She was also the only child to wield a sword, and not a specially made sword- a heavy silver long sword. It was the same one her father used to wield for the Imperial Guard. While her mother was master of blade, her father was an expert armorer. After two hours of blade training, she repaired her equipment as well as her mother's, quickly becoming an apprentice level swordswoman and armorer. After training ended, she always went to see Brennon.
She loved spending time with Brennon. He was her very best friend, her only friend besides her parents. He was short, only 5'5 and old, nearly sixty. He had black hair and a balding crown. His face was cracked with laugh lines and he was always chuckling and telling good jokes. He made Ami's strong restoration potions and it was also thanks to him that she was already an apprentice in alchemy. While the other children were still learning to recognize and name common herbs and flowers, she could accurately identify any plant in Tamriel as well as name the first two effects of their alchemical components. Alchemy/mother she noted.
Death of a Family
Ami's life remained tolerable even enjoyable for the next few years of her life. The sneers and mean jokes from her classmates seemed to bounce off her. And as she grew stronger from weapons practice some students had loss the gall to even whisper about her. She was happy and confident for the first time in her life. Confidence/mother she noted.
Then her mother became ill when Ami was sixteen. This wasn't a typical illness. Her most powerful healing spells had no effect. Neither did the spells of the village's healers. Even Brennon couldn't make a potion to heal her. Within a week she went from perfectly healthy to the brink of death. It didn't make sense. Altmers were naturally resistant to disease and ailments. The eldest and wisest village healer offered the only plausible conclusion he could muster. It was possible for a mage to use his genius and mastery of alchemy, destruction, restoration, and mysticism to create a masterful and dangerous poison spell hybrid. He concluded it must have bacterial or viral origins but with the rapid deteriorating tendencies of a destruction spell. The disease's ability to block healing attempts by spell, scroll, or potion suggested a manipulation of magickal and chemical restoration processes. A master of mysticism or illusion could also manipulate one's mind into trapping the spell's effect into a corner that can't be reached. Being an Altmer, its bacterial affect could have been held dormant by her own defenses, but its element of magick could not be as easily defended against. With enough knowledge of medicine, poison, destruction, restoration, mind manipulation and Altmer genetics a super poison spell hybrid could have been created. Neither of the magickal or bacterial aspects could be isolated from one other or from the mind, which prevented any form of healing. The other elders scoffed at the idea even though it came from their wisest and most respected sorcerer. There wasn't a sorcerer capable of such mastery inside Nobilwyn, or even Summerset Isle, and if the Altmers were unable to create such a poisonous spell, then it was impossible to create. Even if someone that powerful did exist outside Summerset Isle, Amanra had not left home in over three years. No spell or poison could lay dormant for that long and then awaken with such potency. It had to be something else. A curse from a Daedric lord or the will of the Gods was more likely than such a powerful potion or spell. They continued to deliberate, to heal and to pray but to no avail. Ami sat on the floor by her mother's bedside every night despite warnings she could be contagious and, every night, she fell asleep to her mother's hand stroking her hair, comforting her daughter in spite of her own illness. One morning when Ami awoke she was dead. Her eyes were closed and skin was cold. She died as peacefully as her ailment would allow- in her sleep.
When Amanra passed, the family she left behind crumbled, unable to cope without her. Xavier began to isolate himself from his daughter who looked so much like his beloved wife. He no longer trained her after school and Ami missed the bonding with her father. They both mourned, privately and alone. The townspeople did what they could to care for the family. Schoolmates were kinder to Ami even trying to cheer her up in class and the neighbors offered household support for Xavier, who was lost on how to raise a teenage daughter on his own. It wasn't often when a village Altmer died due to their extremely long life spans but when tragedy did occur they knew to help the remaining family members, especially Xavier who they figured would struggle. One neighbor in particular, Tresella, a teacher in etiquette, speech craft, and homesteading devoted a particular amount of time to caring for the broken family.
The Replacement
Tresella became a permanent fixture around the house, much to Ami's dismay. Tresella was a teacher of Ami's in a class she didn't do well in. Tresella never hid her contempt and agitation towards Ami, who never seemed to pick up the simplest lessons in etiquette or charisma. Ami's behavior wasn't befitting any Altmer lady, even a half breed. She was honest and curt and didn't see the point of a thousand flattering words when she could make her point with only a few. With Tresella assuming the role of Nursemaid in the house, much to Xavier's delight but Ami's chagrin, the home began to reform again. There was a time when weeks had gone by where they'd only eat dry bread and plain cheese, except when the neighbors brought warm food. However, with Tresella, warm meals were being served on a daily basis; stews, roasts, and casseroles - warm homemade food which they both greatly missed. And the dishes didn't sit to crust and smell. She did them everyday as well as the grocery shopping and laundry. Xavier, not wanting to exploit her kindness, began to pay her for her services and even offered her a room to stay in. In order to afford her for an extended period of time, he regrettably had to let Brennon go. Ami had enough knowledge to make her own potions to restore her magicka and his services were no longer needed. Even though Ami cried and fought for her friend to stay, Xavier insisted a caretaker was more necessary than an alchemist. The day Brennon left was another devastating day for Ami. He said nothing to Xavier, but lovingly bid Ami farewell. He hugged her tighter than he ever had before, knowing it would be the last time he'd see her, then he left. She didn't think her heart could break any more, but it did. She felt sick and angry at her father, but Xavier, knowing he could permanently count on Tresella's help, felt soothed. He had grown accustomed to her advice and guidance. With time his depression began to diminish. Being single with no family left, Tresella gladly accepted her new position, welcoming the pay and her new home.
Ami felt betrayed. Only a month after her mother died, her father had seemed to replace her. . He assured his daughter he would never love another like he did Amanra, and she knew he meant it. She knew her father was not intimate with this woman but she was still suspicious of Tresella's intentions. Tresella was aware just like the rest of the town of her mother's wealth from her adventuring days not to mention the most lavish home in the whole village. Tresella, even as a nursemaid was paid much more than her teacher's salary and with Xavier's permission, she asked the village elders to look for a replacement to teach her class. A fabulous new home-economics/etiquette teacher joined their community. Tresella soon had a firm grip on the household. Ami loathed this woman who tried to play the part of her mother. Ami's father was a decrepit shadow of his formal self and Tresella easily coaxed and convinced him she knew what was best. Ami began to rebel and act out in school, and behaved aggressively towards her classmates and fought with them. She was unable to escape her sadness and yearning for her mother and also her anger toward the intrusive Tresella. Her home was no longer an escape from the suffocating hands that tried to mold and reshape her. She could no longer dress in pants or shirts of commonality. She would only dress as a High Elf should; in dresses, skirts, and blouses. Every misused word or inappropriate sentence Ami spoke became a grammar lesson and she was constantly corrected by Tresella. Tresella made sure she was relentless in her mission the fix all the things wrong with Ami. They would argue incessantly with Tresella always being the victor. In the beginning of their war of words, she thought she could make her father see how deplorable this woman was, and then he would surely put her in her place. But every time she would turn to him, Xavier always took Tresella's side, unwilling to conflict with the woman that he believed salvaged his family, which further drove the wedge between him and his daughter. With Tresella in his ears and his head all day every day, she convinced Xavier that Ami was a problematic teen who, with discipline, would eventually behave and become a lady. She could convince him of anything. Ami fought and clawed for months against this woman who had taken control of her broken father and her entire life. But she couldn't win, not without her father on her side, and not within a village that disapproved of her heritage and deplored her behavior.
Playing the Part
Ami realized after months of turmoil inside her home and her head that the only way to be rid of this woman was to do as she asked. She would become a sophisticated lady, learn to take care of herself, her house, and her father, and then Xavier would no longer need Tresella. Ami knew inside she'd never really be a lady but she could at least pretend to be polite and docile. She would push her seething anger and nauseating depression deep below her surface, and appear calm and proper. She did well enough in school again to receive passing grades, although her magick skills were still a bit lacking. And she also stopped fighting with her classmates. She dressed in her expensive clothes, hiding how uncomfortable and cramped she felt in them. She tried to cook, even though the results were barely edible. Bad cook/mother she noted. Her pain flared at the thought. None of this would have happened if her mother were alive. There were days when she could not maintain her façade of obedience and proper behavior, and lashed out in anger and tears but those instances had become few and far between. So for years, steady and determined she performed as a proper Altmer lady.
She had just turned twenty, the age that entered her into womanhood. Although she attended spell classes with students four years younger than her and she still struggled in some of her junior college classes, she believed she had successfully fooled the village and her father into thinking she was a proper grown woman. It had been almost four years since her mother's death. Her father never fully recovered but did seem a bit stronger. Ami's pain never lessened. She hid it well but the woman she grew to hate- Tresella- was still in her home, manipulating her father, acting out the role that belonged to her mother. But Ami had chosen her day. She had vigilantly kept her behavior in check and was ready to calmly and objectively confront her father. She would make him see they were both okay, and that the woman who made Ami's life hell, could be dismissed from her household.