Sun beamed off the jeweled wings of a dragonfly. It hovered above the steaming swamp for a heartbeat, it's wings making little ripples in the surface. Then a bullfrog surfaced, and with an enormous gulp the insect was gone. His stick scratched the surface of the mud, turning over a little patch which he shaped with his hands. He poked little windows in it, and made a wall around it. He placed the stick in the top of the mound and admired his castle.

A familiar voice called his name, and he looked over his shoulder to see his mother standing in the doorway of their home. She had an expression that he have never seen before- her eyes beheld him unblinkingly, with warmth but also with a deep sadness.

"Come child. The king's servants will be here soon. You must be clean."

He stretched his legs to stand up, but instead of cold mud he felt rough wool blankets, and a deep pain in his back.

The face of the dream shivered and dissolved away into nothing. For a moment, he drifted between slumber and the waking world, his mind rebelling at the idea of another day. The darkness dragged at him. It was inviting, the idea of falling away into that void, to go and feel nothing more, but in the end the fire inside him couldn't help but burn brighter. No. There were many miles yet to go, many sunrises yet to see. Fate had hurled misfortunes at him and he had survived them all.

His eyes flicked open.

He was lying in a small room made of wood. His left arm was bound to his chest, and a throbbing pain was shooting up through it from his shoulder and upper back. A candle was seated on a bookshelf near the ceiling, burnt down to it's last few inches. As he turned his head and looked right, he saw an open door and a wood stove beyond. A figure was crouched in front of the fire.

He pushed the covers back and looked down, fumbling for his dagger with his good hand. Not even to draw it- simply to check if it was still there. It wasn't. He tried to raise himself up, but firm hands pushed him back down. He had not heard her approach.

"Be still. You will open up the wound again."

He did so, and she pulled the blanket back over him.

"Are you in pain?"

He shook his head, but she sat down on the bed anyway, and took a small vial out of her pocket. A viscous liquid dripped out and onto a spoon. The candle-light glinted in her large eyes, making them glow briefly. She placed the spoon in front of his face and, hesitantly, he opened his mouth and allowed her to pour the medicine onto his tongue. It was gag-inducing, but he swallowed it anyway. The Khajiit was clearly sincere in trying to help him, and he didn't have anything to steal anyway.

A warmth spread out from his stomach and vibrated out into his extremities, overwhelming the throbbing pain in his left side. A groan of relief passed his lips. The Brotherhood had taught him how to resist pain, but for once it was nice to be able to relax that discipline. The Khajiit smiled.

"That's better, isn't it?"

"Thank you." He said, his voice slightly raspy from disuse. He had not said a word since he had been kidnapped. He did not want to give them the satisfaction.

"My name is Dari." The Khajiit said.

He told her his full Argonian name, and she chuckled.

"I will never be able to pronounce that. What about your name in the human tongue?"

"Goes-Unseen."

"From the Black Marsh, I assume?" She said.

Her tone was light, but he could sense where this was going.

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment. He could almost see the inevitable question turning inside her head.

"Whose arrow did I pull out of your back?"

Goes-Unseen was ready. He was good at lying. The words were only part of it, it was the way you conveyed them that mattered. If a lie was told properly, it would be one the listener not only could believe, but wanted to believe. The best lies were lies of omission, because one could tell a lie and never have to actually say an untrue word.

"I made enemies in my homeland. They put a price on my head and someone came to collect it. I barely got off their ship alive."

Dari turned and fixed him with those unfathomably green eyes. He could tell that she knew he wasn't telling the whole story. He knew because under that emerald gaze he had hesitated- looked away. There was another moment of silence, and then the moment of consideration had passed.

"Well. I certainly know what it feels like to have enemies."

She stood up and walked to the bookshelf before blowing the candle out.

"Sleep now. Rest is the only medicine I have in great supply."