I: Bandit Attack
I followed my parents as we departed from our temporary camp outside the gates of the latest city our caravan had stopped at. Just like every other city we had visited in Skyrim, we had stayed outside the gates. The Nords never let us inside the city gates.
"It's not fair," I growled. "Why do they never let us inside? They seem to think we all deal in skooma and moon sugar."
My mother put her arm around my shoulders. "They know some of us do, and that's all the evidence they need. There's nothing you can do about it."
"But how can they think we're all bad? Don't they know about Nerevarine Ma'hini?"
My mother sighed. "If the world was just, we would be treated the same as the men and mer, but the world is not like that. Someday it may be. Until now, all you can do is show everyone you deal with that you are an honest Khajiit, and hope they pass the knowledge on. Maybe your grandchildren will be allowed into the cities."
"Maybe they treat us like this because we put up with it. What if we refused to take it? What if we all insisted on being allowed inside the city gates?"
"They might send the guards to attack us."
I shook my head. "I'm not going to let them treat me like that when I have my own caravan. They're going to treat me like any Nord or Redguard or Altmer, because I won't settle for anything else."
"Ra'wati, please don't get yourself killed over this. They let us trade with their cities. They don't keep us as slaves. We have it better than Grandmother Ma'hini did."
"Yes, mother," I grumbled, but inside I remained defiant. I was descended from one of the greatest heroes Tamriel had seen in centuries. So what if I didn't have a prophecy to fulfill? The people of Skyrim were going to respect me one day.
I remained lost in thought for the rest of the day, as my parents and the rest of our caravan traveled along the road to the next city on our route. It was a two-day journey, so we set up camp a short distance off the main road as the sun was beginning to set. After we had eaten, we sat around the fire as my father told us a story about the Nerevarine. I usually loved to listen to stories about my distant grandmother and imagine what her life must have been like, but tonight I was feeling too distracted to follow along.
I went to my tent early, but I was unable to sleep. I was feeling too restless. I laid there for several hours before I finally got up and made my way to the campfire, where my father was sitting watch.
"Do you want me to take the next watch?" I asked. "I can't sleep."
"Is something bothering you, child?" he asked. "I could tell you've been upset all day."
I sighed and looked away. "I'm just unhappy with my life right now, with the way other people treat us… I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life this way."
"What exactly do you want?" he asked gently. "Do you want to own a farm? That would not be a very interesting life. You know there is little else we can do."
"I… I don't know what I want to do." I pulled my dagger out of its sheath and focused on it as I spoke. "I think I want to learn how to use a sword."
"A sword?" he asked, sounding concerned.
I looked up at him. "I don't like hiding behind others when I'm scared. I want to be able to take care of myself." And if I became a warrior, people would have to respect me, I thought.
"But… Your eye…" he began.
My hand reflexively went to the left side of my face, where my pupil was completely white. I had never been able to see anything out of it, not even light. "Father, you know very well that my eye doesn't interfere with anything. You know I can use a bow as well as anyone else here. A sword should be no different."
He opened his mouth to respond, but his words were replaced by a startled bark of pain. He fell forward, and I saw an arrow protruding from his back.
"Father?!" I gasped. I jumped to my feet, looking out toward the darkened woods for the source of the arrow, when a second arrow struck me in the stomach.
"No, you idiot! Don't kill the girl!" I heard someone scream from the woods as I crumpled to the ground, clutching my stomach. The world suddenly seemed distant, almost dream-like. My ears started ringing and intense nausea swept over me.
My father started to crawl over to me. Two more arrows struck him in the sides, and he collapsed on his stomach.
The other Khajiit had heard us and came running to face our attackers. My mother was in the lead. I saw at least five arrows strike her torso, and she fell. Another Khajiit beside her suffered a similar fate. Then a group of Nord bandits emerged from the woods with their weapons drawn, and the battle began.
"Ra'wati," I heard my father croak through the ringing in my ears. I looked away from the battle and over at him. He gestured weakly to my stomach and breathed, "Pull the arrow out and come here."
I could barely hear anything, and my vision was so fuzzy now. It was so hard to think, to focus, but I gripped the arrow shaft and started to pull. As my pain spiked, so did my sudden nausea. The world seemed to go out of focus, as if I were looking at everything from underwater. I thought my father was still talking, but the ringing in my ears had increased until I could hear nothing else.
I tugged on the arrow as hard as I could, pulling it free. My vision clouded over and the nausea became too much to bear. I began vomiting. My whole world became nothing but pain. I could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but the pain.
And then the pain suddenly subsided, and I became aware of a warm, pleasant sensation that seemed to cover my entire body. It was the sensation of magical healing.
As the pain receded, I realized my father had his hand on my wrist. I looked over at him. He seemed barely able to focus on me anymore. The arrows were still protruding from his body.
"Father, please, you have to heal yourself!" I panted. "I don't know how to do it!"
He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I only had strength for one of us," he breathed, almost too softly for me to hear.
And then his body went limp and the healing sensation stopped.
"FATHER!" I screamed, but I knew he could not hear me anymore.
Through my shock, I realized I could still hear the sounds of fighting. I pushed myself up and turned to see one lone Khajiit fighting with three bandits. As I watched, the Khajiit impaled one of the bandits, then was cut down from behind by the other two.
With their final opponent dead, the two remaining bandits turned to face me.
"Well, well, looks like someone knew a healing spell," one of the bandits said in a tone that chilled me. "I was afraid we'd have to rush this. Looks like we'll get to take our time, after all." He shifted his battleaxe to his right hand and headed in my direction.
The other bandit fell to his knees. "You go first. I need a moment to recover."
As I pulled myself up onto my hands and knees, I felt something on the ground pressing into one of my knees. It was the hilt of my dagger. I quickly grabbed the dagger and wrapped my tail around me, hiding my hands from view.
I looked up at the approaching bandit, flattening my ears submissively, trying to make myself look weak and desperate. "Please, I'll do whatever you tell me to," I said, my voice quivering. "There's no need to hurt me."
He laughed vilely. "The pain's half the fun."
I would only have one chance at this. I held still, doing my best to look helpless, weighing my options as he approached. He was wearing a ringmail cuirass and greaves. I couldn't go for his torso with my flimsy dagger, not unless I waited for him to take the armor off…
The bandit stopped in front of me, looking down at me triumphantly. He grabbed my hair in his left hand and jerked my head back to get a better look at my face. "I don't usually go for women with so much body hair, but you're pretty enough, I suppose," he laughed. He jerked my hair again. "Get up."
He loosened his grip on my hair and I shifted my weight onto my feet, keeping my hands low and covered by my tail. "Where are we going?"
"Your people picked a very bad spot to make camp. You could throw a stone and hit the entrance to our cave from here…"
Now or never. I leaped up, swinging my right hand as hard as I could. My dagger plunged up to the hilt where his neck and jaw met, breaking when it struck the base of his skull.
"You're right," I snarled as he fell writhing to the ground, trying desperately to breathe through his severed windpipe. "That was fun. Giving you a painless death would not have been as satisfying." I picked up his battleaxe and turned to face the other bandit.
The other bandit was still slumped on the ground. "Mercy!" he cried as I approached him.
"What were you planning to do when I begged you for mercy?" I demanded.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head, accepting his fate.
"This is kinder than you deserve," I said as I raised the axe above my head.
Once it was over, I stumbled around the camp, checking for any survivors, but I was the only one. My parents and the other members of our caravan were dead. I was all alone.
SOUNDTRACK: "S.C.A.V.A." by Hollywood Undead, "Breathe Into Me" by Red, "Not Gonna Die" by Skillet, "Time of Dying" by Three Days Grace, "The End Has Come" by Ben Moody (from the Punisher soundtrack), "The Collapse" by Adelitas Way, "Lights Out" and "Breath" by Breaking Benjamin, "Old Friend" and "Warrior" by Disturbed, "The World Belongs To Me" by My Darkest Days (also Ra'Wati's theme song)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a prequel to my other story, The Dark Brotherhood's Mercy. I started that story to alleviate the crippling cognitive dissonance I suffered after finding out about the torture chamber in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. (Before I found out about it, I played Skyrim almost every day for over a month and could barely focus on anything else. After I found out, I suddenly had absolutely no desire to play anymore. Once I came up with the story idea four days later, my desire to play returned.) I wanted to include a flashback chapter where Ra'wati tells someone about rescuing Etienne Rarnis from the Thalmor (saving him made me feel better than anything else I've ever done in a video game), but planning it made me realize how little I had fleshed her character out, and giving myself a few days to work on her backstory made me realize I wanted to write it. It also changed some things I had planned for Dark Brotherhood's Mercy. (For example, she was originally on the fence between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, but her backstory made it obvious to me which side she ends up on. Her decision was supposed to be a pivotal point in the sequel, but it had to be moved to this story.) So with that in mind, my other story will be on hiatus until this one is finished.
At the end of every chapter I'll include a list of songs I think best fit the events of the chapter, arranged in chronological order to the best of my ability.
Ra'wati's name is a Khajiit-ized version of Rewati, the first white tiger born in the US. The Nerevarine's name has been changed to Ma'hini, after Rewati's mother Mohini. All descriptions of what Ra'wati experiences while blacking out and waking up again are drawn from my own experience with blacking out from pain, specifically "vasovagal near-syncope" symptoms.
Finally, I am also blind in the left eye (though mine is a result of cancer, not a cataract). Ra'wati's vision is a much more acute version of my own. And I tend to ramble, obviously.
