Sun's Height 20

(Fights-up-close): Two Sisters Inn

Back in the lovely familiarity of the humid Gideon sanctuary, I knew my redemption had to be here soon.

"All lies?" I asked.

"All of it." He responded. But his words were not terse or stern, they were an attempt to comfort, and they seemed to reach deep within me.

I didn't know if I was feeling more pleasure or pain, but the feelings touched me deeper than I felt anything should go. I felt cold, and somehow bringing my deeds into the open was painful, even when they were so understanding. But I knew this pain wasn't self-perpetuating like most pain, this was different. This was one last walk through the thorns. Then I could be free.

"The people of Argonia will forgive you, Fights-up-close. We forgive you. Our enemies have tried to deceive all of us." Learns-fast said as he clutched my hand in earnesty "They will welcome you with open arms

"Give me the book." He said softly. I instantly pursued the opportunity to show kindness towards him, but none of it ever felt like it would be enough to compensate what I'd done and how they'd welcomed me. I took the book from the pouch at my side and handed it to him. My hand was quivering. I felt like it took a deal of bravery just to be here and conscious, to face my deeds, but I knew this would all end with a euphoria as pure as any. The emotion was so powerful, so pure, so new, so spiritual. But I felt it was too much. Too much to contain in my soul.

He gently took the book from me, and placed it in the nearest hallway torch. A few sparks were stirred up, then the book complacently began to disintegrate in the fire. Pages turned black and shriveled.

But I still felt so vulnerable when the truth was so obvious, when I was so directly connected to reality. In a way, it was like I'd retreated into bitterness and cynicism to avoid these tough, soul-wrenching moments with the true heros of Tamriel.

Goes-in-heavy sensed my pain.

"Soon it will be like this never happened. I've done far worse. They forgave me for that too. " He said, his eyes pleading my return to happiness.

He was right. I didn't have to be lost in thought any more. I could be happy here in physical reality. I could return to the days of true happiness untainted by doubt or guilt. I could come back to that place I'd left for months with new trust gained from my frightening journey. I just wanted to love again now.

Comfort and confidence were returning.

Then I heard the door to my left creak open. Hides-in-shadows? I turned to see who it was.

I jerked involuntarily at the sight. It was a man in a Dark Brotherhood uniform, but his face was nothing but shadow. In his hand was a piece of paper. A list.

His voice was distorted in some hard to describe way.

"I've made you feel like this before. I wasn't honest. I was effective." A horrible fear, greater than the simple danger of a situation could give me, filled me as I could tell a super-natural hell was washing over me.

Then, the Gideon sanctuary was fading. I was floating a way from it all. I was thrown around with by forces much greater than me, not knowing where I'd end up.

Then I was lying on and in something soft. I could see the inside of an angular wooden triangle. I was in bed, staring at the ceiling: The Two Sisters Inn.

I could still feel some reminisce of that dream. The soul-wrenching guilt, the magical comfort, and the horrible fear, a fear worse than anything the inflicter of such fear could actually do to me.

Something epic had happened in that dream. There were collosal ups and downs.

I tried to recall it, but all I had were fragments with no connectivity. I remembered seeing Learns-fast again, and seeing the cloaked figure, but that deep magical emotion was starting to fade.

I was stranded in reality.

It wasn't ups and downs here anymore. Just downs. I feared my own thoughts. They made me feel like I was falling. My beliefs, the ground on which my actions sprung from and the ground from which my more mature notions grew were disintegrating. I didn't know if there was a bottom, an absolute, undeniable knowledge anymore. That was what I was searching for, but I didn't know how much more I'd losing while attempting to find it.

Can I trust anyone? That was the question gnawing at my consciousness. The demonic words "I wasn't honest. I was effective." were still playing in my head. All I wanted was mental security. While other people dwelled on physical problems, unknowingly blessed, I couldn't even find refuge in my own mind.

That brought back a yearning for the old days: the days when I felt so noble in uniform, when I could feel euphoria just by being with my family from the swamps, and when Goes-in-heavy and I could get so many laughs out of the mixes of Argonian and Cyrodiillic language we had to make when we were first trying to learn the language. But that's all it was, a memory. My existence could never be restored to those levels.

I finally made some sort of movement, rolling over to turn towards the two tall windows of the room, then stared into their light with a dull anguish. Why did I even do that? Why do I do anything? Why do I persist on living?

The good night's sleep had not a magical elixir as I had hoped it be. There was no magical enlightenment. I still felt depression welling up inside me, and the same thoughts running through my head. I could feel a ravenous hunger inside me, but right now there no eagerness to do anything. Moving just reminded me of my existance.

Maybe a few months back, when I would have seen this suffering as part of Sithis' divine plan, the pain would be more like a challenge to overcome. Now, with my new doubts, it was...pain.

I yearned so badly to go back to the days before I turned twenty. The days when my own mind didn't feel like my enemy, and every action I did didn't require second guessing.

Still, even when there was no urge to do anything, I knew it was only logical to be as comfortable as possible just to mellow the pain.

In a moment of willpower, I sat up, though already felt oncoming tears from the crushing truth: you can be deceived. I twitched at the overbearing words in my mind.

I was stagnant other than that. I felt like I could have stayed in this room forever, in this very position, until I dehydrated. I was not only discouraged because I was unsure of the worth of my cause, but I was unsure of the worth of myself. Living felt like such an exhausting job, yet I never seemed to make any progress. Anytime I made some kind of conclusion, doubt retaliated against it. My thoughts were no longer working forwards, they worked backwards.

I swung my legs over to the side of the bed. I hesitated a bit once more, then stood up. The feeling of discouragement still haunted me, but at least uncertainty always meant there was room for hope. There was a quick flash of happiness before a question brought me back down.

I took the blankets off and stood up. I remembered I had slept in my clothing the night before, and I didn't feel motivated enough to put on something fresh now either.

I felt cold, but I knew it was because of something deeper than the ambient temperature.

My shoes were right next to the door. I stepped off of the soft carpeting onto the hard, glazed wood and jammed my feet into my shoes. I opened up the door and stepped out into the hallway.

I mentally reoriented myself briefly to figure out where the stairs were, then began walking in that direction. The hallway floor greeted me with a creak.

The corrosive words were still playing in my head as I walked. The sleep had not been the magical cure. Maybe I'd already lost any glory in life with my epiphanies.Images of suicide were already coming into my head, but even if that idea made sense it seemed unimaginably hard: it would be acknowledging my life was a failure, even if only to myself, and acknowledging there was more pleasure than pain in the present and future.

I felt the urge to burst into tears on someone's shoulder. This whole ordeal was so exhausting, but it might only end when I did.

I slowly stepped down the creaky steps, trying my best to gain better composer for when I would finally buy some kind of breakfast. I was still out of view of the publican, and tried to wipe my eyes.

I made it to the bottom of the steps, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. The publican was sorting out some bottles behind the counter. Good. The less eye contact, the better. It looked like I was alone, though. That, I didn't like: I was nervous she would try making conversation at a time like this. Obviously it wouldn't be a good idea to describe my problems to her.

I could just imagine how that would work out.

I released one forceful breath, the beginning of a laugh as I imagined what that conversation would have gone like, but I never even had time to form a smile before the tragedy of the situation came back to me with all its crushing power.

I made it to the counter and looked at the writing on the board in the back to see what I could purchase. I didn't think there was much I could enjoy in a time like this, so I just looked for what was quickest to eat.

A sweet roll, I decided, would be my breakfast. 3 septims.

Looking down, I fished through my pocket and pulled out that amount, and placed it on the counter, then muttered "Sweetroll, please." trying to make my voice as inconspicuous as possible without being inaudible. I didn't want to show signs of any despair. I wasn't comfortable with anyone asking questions about my problems.

"Sure thing." The Orc said, obviously more cheerful than me. I could hear my coins being dragged away against the table as I stared down at the floor, then sat down to look more natural.

Mental security was all I wanted. I would accept any physical ordeal in the stead of these horrible epiphanies. What I really yearned for was an absolute truth. Somewhere to confidently stand and work from.

Out of the far top reaches of my vision I could see some movement. I lifted my head slightly to see the sweet roll laying on top of a napkin.

I mumbled a gravely "Thanks," and then lifted the napkin with the sweet roll off the table, afraid to make conversation about my problems. I would eat it upstairs.

I walked back towards the stairs. All the chairs were still upside down the on tables.

As I walked up the stairs I took a bite of the sweetroll. For a second, I felt peaceful as my tongue basked in the sweetness, but the spurt of enjoyment only gave me a more crushing reminder of the barrier in my life a second later.

As I made it to the top of the stairs and swallowed, there was an odd acidic feeling in my stomach, maybe because I was eating something of such intense flavor early in the morning, but I wasn't sure.

I turned around so I could make my way to the second flight of stairs. Then, oddly, I felt a sensation like rabid, painful hunger. I took a big bite out of the sweet roll.

Yet as I took a few more steps, all the sudden I could feel like what I'd just eaten was ready to come up.

The balcony. I had seen a balcony here on my way in, probably on this floor. It seemed more polite to throw up on the street than the wooden floor for some reason, so I instantly began to rush for the first door I saw which I hadn't been through.

I rushed towards the door, swung it opened, and looked down onto the empty streets. To my surprise, there was still the orange glow of sunrise coating the streets. No one was out. I had woken up very early.

I coughed. Nothing.

Then I could definitely feel it coming. I was eager to get this over with.

Then, what little I had managed to get in my stomach came out, splattering onto the cobblestone sidewalk. Since there wasn't much in my stomach, the bitter taste of bile was dominant.

I stayed in that position reflecting on all that had just happened.

I no longer felt hungry, but I couldn't keep living with this stress, and that must have been what caused it. I clearly wasn't sick with any sort of infection. I needed answers, somehow. Evidently, I couldn't eat and sleep well without something to soothe my mind.

With all my mental mite, I tried to recall the names of the other books I found by Goes-in-heavy's side.