CHAPTER I- How I ended up in this mess

It took me some time to get used to the idea of writing about my own misfortunes, but someone said it would be fun. Fun for him, because I am lazy as hell to write all this crap by hand, because computers and writing machines are just too advanced.

Okay so my name is Amaya Kedves, but you can call me Maya for short. I know my name is weird as fuck but hey, don't blame me. Apparently, 'Kedves' means something like 'kind' in Hungarian, not that it makes any sense, because I am the exact opposite of that, not to mention that the concept of the country 'Hungary' isn't a thing in these parts. Also, it doesn't matter because I don't need to use that name anymore. Uggghhhh my hand is already hurting from writing like, 20 sentences. I wish I could just write this on my laptop. It would be so much quicker and simpler! Being quick is something that would be very nice right now, since I have many things to take care of.

Ah technology, how I miss it. Spending hours upon hours watching the stupid video 'My Longest Yeaah Boooy Ever' and the innumerous remixes, such fun. I took so many things for granted, like electricity, cars, machine guns, Netflix, showers, MEMES… But you ask me personally if I miss the stupid Bee Movie memes, for example, I will deny it.

How many years has it been? Since the incident? Three or four now, I suppose. It is difficult to track time when you have crap like 4th age and not 2017.

Ugh, I had better continue writing before I completely lose sight of the true purpose of this diary-book-whatever. I'd better borrow some ink from my dearest Martin, he won't mind it that much, after all he was the one who said it would be fun. Plus, he is very busy right now, so he won't even notice. That man is so busy nowadays that it is almost impossible to sit and talk to him. Not that other certain night activities that don't require conversations are impossible

Who is Martin, you ask? How can I even begin explaining the whole concept of Martin Septim? Well, I am not giving details away before the right time, and I am very well aware that spoilers are awful. But don't worry, Marty will be introduced soon, after all he is kind of like a supporting character in this story. Okay no, he is a main character, but this is my story so I am obviously the center of it.

Anyway, my name is Amaya Kedves. Maybe you have heard rumors of me, like how pretty I am or how good I am with one-handed weapons. Just kidding (but secretly I wish those were the rumors about me). You probably know me as The Hero of Kvatch or Savior of Bruma or even Champion of Cyrodiil. Quite shocking, huh? You might wonder how I managed to get those titles. Sometimes I wonder about that myself.

You've heard the rumors, songs or stories about my great deeds, but I am sorry to say, my adventure wasn't as glamorous as the tales tell. I have a secret. A secret that only my closest friends know. The truth about where I came from. I have a few trust issues so I won't go around telling everyone those kinds of things, and honestly, it is much more fun to let people think I am odd.

But now it doesn't matter, I suppose. I will write down every bit of memory I have, so that this diary can be passed on with the truth about me. Keeping a diary sounds like something a kid would do.

Okay, enough. I am getting bored already. So, I was nineteen years of age when it all started…

Oh, before I continue, I'd like to apologize to you, Martin, for the things you will read here. And you too, Jauffre. And Baurus. And pretty much everyone else I made fun of, including both Divines and Daedra. I love you all, so please don't kill me.

"Amaya, stop watching TV and get your lazy ass out of my house." My mother yelled at me. That kind of sentence isn't normally heard from most mothers, but my mom was always so pissed. In truth, I would be pissed if I had a daughter like me, too.

First of all, it was mid-January, winter break from University, and I didn't leave the house once. Too busy playing Fallout. Who needs a social life when you have memes and games? No one. People are pains and games only want to please you and offer a nice gaming experience.

"Oh my sweet mother," I started replying, from where I was, lying in the sofa. The best way to spend the snowy month of January was lying down in the couch, on top of a pile of my own clothes, surrounded by chocolate and trash food. Those were the good old days.

Mother's loud steps filled the room, and I instantly grew cold, "You should leave the house for a while, do something people your age do."

Upon looking at her, one would never guess that she was so pissed all the time. With her short curly hair as black as petroleum (which was turning white in the roots, don't ever mention that to her), and her baby blue eyes adorning her chubby face, one would probably think she was a nice lady that baked cookies for her kids, but no. My mother was very serious most of the time, and whenever I did something wrong, I would get scolded pretty badly, so it was just natural that she'd give me the chills when walking towards me in that pace. You know what they say about Basque women, don't you?

I didn't even take my eyes from the game and looked at her when she positioned herself between me and the TV, obstructing my view, "Like get drunk and do drugs? No thank you."

"Amaya." She sent me a furious glare. That tone right there is the tone she uses before threatening to break my X-Box.

I knew better and paused the game, and finally sat up straight, "Alazne." I used the same tone as her to say her name. Alazne. Her name was even weirder than mine, but it doesn't matter, because that was the last time I'd ever call her by her name. I had this habit of calling her and Zoltán-my father- by their names when they scolded me by saying 'Amaya'.

"I am serious, child." Mother frowned, "Go out, play in the snow with your neighbors, build snowmen, have a snowball fight…"

The neighbors she referred to were the pair of boy twins from across the street. And they were eight years old. So no way I'd babysit those kids for free. Okay, okay, I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy playing with the kids, but seriously Fallout was better.

"Mom, please."

"Get out, Amaya. Now." She unplugged the cable that connected the X-Box to the electricity. The screen went out with a 'poof' and right then and there I knew I should get out as fast as I could, otherwise I'd end up with a broken X-Box and missing one kidney, "Or I will make you clean all the bathrooms in this house and break that goddamn game of yours with my bare hands."

"Okay, fine." I sighted, defeated.

I got up from my comfortable seat in the couch, glared at my mother, turned on my heel and walked to the door.

Yes, I laid down on the couch with boots. Judge me.

I opened the door and the chilly air of winter hit my face. I put on my hoodie and left the house. I instantly regretted leaving wearing only a pair of jeans and a my favorite black hoodie, because fuck it was cold.

That, my friends, was the last time I ever saw my mother. No last words, nothing. I sometimes find myself thinking that I could've said I loved her one last time before everything happened, but there was no way I could've known.

That day had started normally, as it always would have during winter break. I attended the local University, in the State of Wyoming, United States. It was a normal University, nothing special. I studied Computer Sciences there because why not.

That afternoon was different from others. Not because I was kicked out of the house. I was kicked out of the house where I lived with my parents many times. Normally, when that happened, I would make my way down the frozen pathway and cross the road, where I would meet the twins Erik and Edward, in their house's front yard. Since my house didn't have a nice front yard, I'd go to theirs and throw snowballs at them.

Every great story needs a beginning, and this is mine. Not that my story was great, but yeah, you get the feel. Things tend to go well in the beginning, and I always thought why mine was so fucked up. That very day, as I crossed the road, I forgot to stop, look and listen. I was concentrated in watching Erik put the head of his snowman on top of his brother's own head, so I didn't pay attention. Actually, I didn't even feel the car hitting me, nor did I feel the pain of hitting the floor. I just remember everything get black.

And that was how Amaya Kedves died.

Just kidding lol I am pretty much alive thank you very much.

The one thing I always think about when I find myself pondering on the mysterious circumstances in which I found another world was that I didn't appreciate the time I had with my parents or even the mundane things of Earth.

When I gained control of my senses once again, I realized I was not on the road I had been. I didn't fall into concrete of, but into…straw? Or something like it. The winds of winter didn't have any sound, and nor did anything else. I opened my eyes, and stared at the rocky ceiling above me.

Wait.

Rocky ceiling?

Shit.

I looked around and realized I was in some sort of prison cell. Amazing.

At that moment I knew something was off. And that was just the start of my awkward adventure.

Hey yo everyone! This is my first attempt at writing hahaha I just came up with this story and I am very excited to write it! I hope you guys liked the introduction and enjoyed the first bits of Amaya's character! This story will contain lots of humor, crack (not the drug pls I am but a simple girl) and fun things, also fourth wall breaking and shit like that. In case anyone wonders, this will follow the main quest but with twerks here and there :))))

Thank you for reading and if you liked it, why not click the little button bellow and leave me a nice review? Thanks! By the way, the Protagonist's name is pronounced Ah-mah-yah Ked-vesh !