Marylith: Rise of an Enigma
This is the story of my OC in the world of The Elder Scrolls.
This isn't for everyone, because I'm not interested in pulling any punches. Morrowind, Oblivion, and Skyrim are rated M.
So is her story.
Prologue
The crows were louder that day, the day she was born. The skies of Cheydinhal grew the same color of the stone walls protecting the people, as the wind carried the leaves off the trees. The crows fluttered in the wind and landed on a rooftop in the middle of the town, their feathers dotted the air a stark black, so dark the stars couldn't shine through. Usually a peaceful, beautiful place that encourages the growth of families turned sadly sordid; and the wind continued to howl.
A woman laid, with her faithful handmaiden that was glad to wipe the sweat off her brow, to comfort her in the most beautiful, or the most tragic, event she would ever experience. Her name was Arrula, an Imperial woman from a wealthy family, settling to raise a child in the calms of Cyrodill. Her husband was a Nord man, from the Skyrim settlement known as Dawnstar. He had often returned to his home of cold and ice to remember that he is of Nord blood. He couldn't have picked a worse day to return to his roots.
Arrula arched her back in a cry of pain, the pressure relieving from her. She laid her head sideways, staring at the stone before she had realized what had happened. She had given birth to a daughter; a daughter that would one day rise to be one of the most prominent figures in Tamriel's history, and perhaps the most enigmatic. Born on the 4th of Sun's Dusk 3E411, she seemed to be just another brought into the harsh world of Tamriel, but the crows lurking in the window would suggest otherwise.
"Oh my, Arrula, she's so beautiful!" The young Carlotta said with a choke in her throat, "Her hair is like the night sky, and her eyes like the lightest of the Abecean Sea."
"Let me see her…" Arrula weakly replied. As the young woman hands the child to its mother, the wind forced the glass of the windowpane to collapse. Shards of glittery daggers shot through the room, the black birds followed swiftly, creating a panicked whirlwind of feathers and glass. Arrula watched the color fade from view, and her vision clouded with soft images of her love, estranged from this phenomena; estranged from his daughter.
"What is this?" Carlotta covered her eyes.
"I don't…" Arrula remained silent as she became weaker. She could only gaze upon the serene face of her newborn daughter. Her infant eyes simply watched the room dance in the most frightening way, but she never uttered a sound. My daughter is stronger than me perhaps, she thought. She's barely a person and she can withstand the fears of many a warrior, whatever is happening to her.
Of course, neither of them understood what was occurring there. The flicker of dark magic electrified the air, and the women didn't understand why. Why would this happen to a baby girl at the time of her birth? Why this girl? However magnificent the display of either celebration or protest, it left as quickly as it came. The mighty birds fled at once through the broken window pane, and the glass simply fell to the floor. The strobe of the candles was restored as they were somehow re-ignited.
The light of the room grew, the warmth restored. The young mother closed her tired eyes slowly, the air leaving her lungs. She saw smiles for the last time. Her last image was that of the cold eyes of her daughter. She muttered, "Marylith… my daughter…" and slipped away into her slumber.