Disclaimer:

I only own the plot and my original characters.

A/N:

Hiiii. Uh, well this is embarrassing. I don't really have a good excuse for not updating. I'm sorry. In my defense, I have gone through a lot of difficult nonsense in the past three-ish years. Had a lot of trouble getting my shit together in my personal life and whatnot. But I think i'm finally coming into my own now , so that's a plus.

Well, at least my writing has improved. I've gone back and edited every prior chapter. Don't worry, no plot points have been changed, I've just polished it up a bit. Also, I've inserted little summaries for previous chapters at the beginning of each chapter. So those of you that don't remember what is even going on in the story right now can remind yourselves if you so choose.

Be forewarned that there is a boatload of angst coming your way. ( As if I haven't written enough already. You know what you've gotten yourself into by now.)

Previously:

Estoril wakes up in the temple of Phynaster after her failed mission, she is tied to a bed after being critically wounded and passing out. Ondolemar is there, and he tells her that she is under suspicion of collaborating with The Beautiful - a terrorist faction of artisans bent on destroying Aldmeri traditions- and that is why she is being restrained. Her costly failure is viewed as an act of treason, her restrainers believe that she had lead her troops into a trap - knowingly. Estoril knows there has to have been a dreadful mistake, Ondolemar agrees. He then gives her a letter from his mother, Altrada, which informs her that her father is going to go on trial for being under the suspicion of the murder of Lady Arannelya - his political opponent. Ondolemar promises to help prove Estoril's innocence when she stands on trial to the Thalmor Council, and that he will do what he can for her father. Estoril gets Ondolemar to pull some strings to arrange for her and her Father's trials to be held at the same time. After a lengthy trial, Estoril is deemed not guilty, but is also indefinitely suspended from the Thalmor. Her father is deemed guilty, and is given a month to prepare before he is banished from Alinor.

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Chapter 6 - In which I am dead

Cloudrest- Summerset Isles

Turdas, 2nd Day of Rain's Hand, 4E 195

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When Ondolemar first said he had wanted to escort father and I back home to Cloudrest, my gut response was to tell him not to bother. He pressed the matter, however, and eventually I relented.

After the trials were over, he, father and I made our way back to my (former) room at the tower near my (former) office. I was ordered by The Council to pack up and move out. My indefinite suspension had been put immediately into effect. And since I am no longer a member of the Thalmor, I can no longer reside in the housing provided for one.

While Ondolemar had assisted me with packing, father sat by the window. He had not uttered a word since the trial. His silence felt alien. And it had felt awkward to be around him like that. Yet, it had been understandable - warranted even. While I may no longer be Senior Officer Estoril and am now just Lady Estoril - Lord Orthntur's incompetent, ex-Thalmor daughter - I should not be the one complaining. Father has it far worse. Banishment is far, far worse.

Ondolemar and I had finally succeeded in packing about half of my belongings when two Junior Officers barged in. They had begun floating the larger, heavier pieces of furniture - using the telekinesis spell - out the door and down the stairs. Piece by piece, until the three of us found ourselves standing in an empty room devoid of any trace of my existence. In the moments that followed I was overcome by a dizzying sensation of disorientation. I had staggered as the empty room spun around me - viciously, unrelentingly - but as Ondolemar propped me up I snapped back into focus.

But, of course, I quickly gleaned that I had not really regained focus. Merely the temporary illusion of it. Without the Thalmor there was no focus. It was my identity, my only purpose in life. All that remains is a void. A nothing.

I am Estoril and I am nothing.

Was I ever anything to begin with?

Just as I had begun to realize this horrifying epiphany , the three of us were joined by a fourth- unwanted and unwelcome-visitor. Junior Officer Ocantar. I had barely held myself from hurling a fireball at his smug, hateful face. He lingered in the doorway, leaning lazily against its frame. Ondolemar had politely asked for Junior Officer Ocantar to leave but he only shook his head amusedly.

"Such loyalty," he had sneered, " let's see where it'll get you. She's not your friend. She'll take everything she can from you and leave you with nothing. She'll leave everyone with nothing. She should've been banished alongside her father. But it's no matter. Her ' indefinite suspension ' is good enough."

And before I or Ondolemar could have even managed a peep, Junior Officer Ocantar disappeared in the purple flash of a well executed invisibility spell.

What an insufferable show off.

Junior Officer Ocantar's enigmatic statement made absolutely no sense to me. It still does not - and I have been pondering it for quite some time now. Who was he to assert anything regarding my character? We do not know each other. Ondolemar concluded that he must be delusional, gloating and spiteful.

Oh, all this pondering is too much right now!

Myself. I must focus on myself now.

What am I?

Oh, I am so tired!

The carriage ride back to Cloudrest had felt longer than usual. Perhaps all of my belongings weighed the carriage down somewhat, but I do not think it really ended up making much of a difference. Father was given the Thalmor Handbill - a concise, instructional treatise on how to treat the Bosmer and Khajit respectfully - by The Council. He read it silently for the latter part of the journey. As he read it, his impassive visage had become contorted with rage. I could only imagine the extent of the inner turmoil he had been experiencing. The shame and humiliation of being banished and then made to read such demeaning material could not have been pleasant. Ondolemar had rambled on and off about theories and possibilities of how to get me reinstated into the Thalmor as soon as possible. I listened halfheartedly- nodding and politely smiling at regular intervals- only for his sake. I know it is hopeless. Any efforts put forth by a Liaison Officer on this sort of matter could only amount to nothing. Ondolemar lacks the influence, and I lack ... well... everything in the eyes of the Thalmor council.

It had been nearly two years since I last set foot in Cloudrest - nearly two years since I had last been home. Nothing about the house has changed whatsoever. Upon our arrival, father promptly disappeared. Perhaps to ensconce himself in his study. Ondolemar, recognising my desire for space, had excused himself to make a short trip to his old residence near the center of the city- promising to be back by evening to dine with us for supper. I considered changing out of my Thalmor robes, but the very thought caused me physical discomfort. They are like a second skin to me, I am loath to part with them so soon.

Now, I traverse the grounds, reminiscing upon more innocent times as I make my way towards the orchards. Times when all I had on my mind was magic , exploration and play - and then the looming promise in the distant future of success within the ranks of the Thalmor. Now that my childhood dreams have been so thoroughly crushed - quelled by forces outside my control - I delve into my mind and unearth beautiful, soothing memories of Heselle and I meandering amongst the apple trees. Memories of mid-summer days with the scent of overripe fruit heavy in the muggy air.

My thoughts become an effervescent kaleidoscope. Fragments of a colorful past life jolt and contort themselves across my mindscape.

-A laugh like windchimes-

- "five, four, three, two... one.. GO!" -

-I reach, the branch just outside my grasp-

-Mother's scowling because we ran through her proscato flowers-

-Soiled, mauve petals pressed into the ground -

-I am twirling -

-"Don't think you can get away from me!"-

-falling -

-lightly-

-"See you tomorrow, Estoril!"

My face feels damp. I touch it. Am I... crying? My lips tremble as I fall to my knees by an apple tree, lean against it for support, and shamefully allow uncontrollable sobs wrack my whole body.

"What am I?" I Implore pitifully to no one. I receive no response, not even from mother.

It has dawned on me ( and at this moment more than ever ) that this is not my home anymore. It is that innocent, blissfully ignorant child's. And now, every trace of her has gone. Leaving nothing but me in her stead. A broken, hollow being. A is no coming back from what has happened. No matter how optimistic Ondolemar pretends to act.

This is not my home and I am not her anymore.

By the time I have pulled myself out of my... episode... the sky has begun to turn shades of orange and pink, and I realize that I am going to have to meet Ondolemar for dinner very soon. I hurry to the south dining hall and hope I have my emotions in check well enough to be decent company. I wonder if father will join us.

To my concern and disappointment, I find Ondolemar sitting alone at the oval table. I note that in front of him are several neatly stacked pieces of paper and a feast fit for kings. Meat pies, stew, elegantly crafted vegetable dishes, succulent fruit, and a wide array of sumptuous pastries are lain across the table. Upon noticing my arrival, a cautious - yet warm- smile spreads across Ondolemar's face. Despite how put together he looks, his eyes betray exhaustion - with dark, bruise-like circles adorning them.

" Estoril, I was beginning to wonder where you were..." he trails off before clearing his throat and picking up the sheets in front of him, "these" he starts - waiving the articles in question in his left hand- " are your servant's resignation letters. Thankfully, I was able to coerce them into making one more meal before their abrupt departure."

I eye the extravagant meal laid out before me tentatively. It comes as no surprise to me that our servants would desert my family as soon as it proved convenient. But as my attention returns to my old friend, a hard lump forms in my throat. How much money did he have to throw at my servants for all this? Considering the apparent quality and quantity of it, I can imagine it was quite a hefty sum.

I have become a burden. This is certain. I cannot stomach it.

"I do not require your charity." I protest through clenched teeth.

Ondolemar sighs. " I imagined you would say something along those lines but please just-"

"I will not be your burden to bear!" I explode- cutting off Ondolemar's attempt to console me. " I do not want this! I can take care of myself!" As I punctuate my statement with dramatic gesticulations, I wonder who I am trying to convince, myself or my friend?

Suddenly there is a change in Ondolemar's countenance. His eyes flash dangerously. Abruptly, he tosses the resignation papers aside - they flutter across the ornate rug.

"By the Eight! It has been a long day, Estoril! I have no patience to deal with you! For both of our sakes just sit down and enjoy the damn food!" He bellows, leaving no room for further argument.

I jump at the anger in his voice- so foreign to his usual humor. Dumbstruck, with my mouth hanging slightly open, I am not sure how to respond.

"Sit. Down. Now. Please."

Out of sheer surprise at his outburst, I attempt to backtrack, hoping he will return to being the even-tempered, thoughtful mer he has always been. " I, uh," I begin, swallowing a knot in my throat- scanning my brain for the appropriate words. " I apologize, but you know that none of this is entirely necessary." I pause and note that Ondolemar's expression is unchanged- shit. Bad start. So I try backtracking again.

" Now, I am not at all saying that I do not appreciate what you are doing for me, on the contrary, I- I really, really-"

"-Not necessary?" Ondolemar snaps again, cutting me off. I wince.

"Oh, none of this is necessary, hmm?" He questions with a sneer and a raised brow. " I wonder, why do you protest my help now, when it is least burdensome for me. But you do not make a peep when I stand up for you in front of the entire Thalmor Council!"

I feel my face redden- ashamed. There is nothing I can say to that. He is right. I wonder how badly I damaged his reputation by allowing him to associate himself with me in such a way.

" Stop spouting bullshit about being appreciative when I know you could care less! I do not want to hear any more excuses from you! In fact, I was just-"

Ondolemar stops himself from finishing his thought and clenches his fists. With his right hand he then points irritably at the seat closest to me and grumbles, " just... just, please.."

I get the message, and comply without another word. I take the seat across from him and begin to serve myself.

At least there will be leftovers.

"I would like to continue the conversation we started on the carriage ride back."

I scrape my fork against my plate. It screeches. At least he has calmed down, but, in fear of inciting his temper again, I do not protest his proposed conversation topic.

" There are options for you, you know, not ideal - but options all the same."

The hope in his voice is nauseating. There is nothing left for me.

"Reintegrating yourself slowly into the Thalmor could be an effective strategy. You know how we are always looking for civilians to take on menial tasks. You would be paid very little , yes , but if you start by volunteering your time in small but meaningful ways, it would reflect well on your loyalty and dedication to the Thalmor."

I hold back incredulous laughter. Putting myself in such a position would make me a laughingstock, and would certainly not bolster anyone's good opinion of me. Doing grunt work was for the very poor and untalented in Aldmeri society. It was for those with no other choice... I suppose that would be me though...

Suddenly it has gotten far, far too hot in the dining hall. So hot that I might faint. I cannot meet Ondolemar's gaze anymore, so I keep my eyes trained on my food.

Despite my lack of an answer, Ondolemar seems undeterred, and presses on to divulge his next idea.

" If that scenario sounds too...abhorrent to you, you could always consider joining your mother in Skyrim at the Thalmor Embassy."

My eyes widen.

"Foreign embassies are far more lax in their recruitment. In fact, they tend to accept all manner of Altmer as long as they are dependable, hardworking, and firm believers of Aldmeri traditions, they are afforded all manner of tasks. Certainly, you would not be an official member, but compensation would be decent, and the work may be of interest to you."

Go to Skyrim? Live and work with mother?

" Of course, I am aware of the uncomfortable nature of your relationship with your mother. But due to how drastically things have changed , I beg you to consider this option very seriously. She is your last close relative on good terms with the Thalmor... Have you kept in touch with her at all over the years?"

I almost wanted to laugh as I briefly thought of my constant companion. Mercifully, 'mother' has made herself scarce - I have not heard from or seen her since the trial's conclusion.

"Find something amusing, Estoril?"

The frustration is nearly tangible in Ondolemar's voice. I clumsily cut a piece out of my meat pie, shove it in my mouth and begin to chew.

Five times... Six times...

"Hello?"

Eight times ... Nine times...

"By Auri-El! Fucking answer me, Estoril!"

The meat pie has become a mush between my teeth.

Twelve times... Thirteen times...

Ondolemar's chair falls over and hits the floor with a clatter as he stands brusquely. It only takes him a few long, deliberate strides before he is right behind me - looming over me.

I swallow, raise my wine-filled goblet to my lips, down it in one long, undignified gulp and haplessly discard the goblet onto the floor. I do not turn around to look at Ondolemar. I cannot bear it. So I continue to stare down at my plate. I only realize that that I am crying when I see the tears begin to pool onto it. I ball my hands into fists in anger at my weakness. This is what I have been driven to. This is how low I have been forced to stoop. I am a sniveling mess!

"...Estoril...? Are you...?"

Ondolemar's disbelieving tone is enough to push me over the edge. I succumb to my overwhelming sorrow as sobs wrack my whole body. I cannot hide my misery any longer.

The surprising gentleness of Ondolemar's hand on my shoulder is a welcome, comforting sensation. I lean my body into his touch- resting my head on his arm - as I try to regain control of myself. After what is probably only a minute or two - but feels like hours- he retracts his hand and kneels beside me. I can see in my peripheral vision that his brows are furrowed in concern. Both his hands move to cup my face and turn it towards him. I do not have it in me to stop him.

All shame I have for my current state is thrown to the wind when I look at him. I have never seen him look as he does now - kneeling before me. I am not sure if anyone has ever looked at me with such... warmth? Care? I am unable to identify exactly what he is feeling right now. He gingerly wipes the tears from my cheeks and I shiver at the unexpected caresses.

" I am sorry Estoril. I am so, sorry," he apologizes mournfully while dropping his hands from my face to rest on either side of me. And I know that he is not just apologizing for his outbursts. He must be apologizing for everything. Everything that he could not do for me - for how he feels he has failed me.

"What can I say or do? Please let me help you."

His pleas leave me dumbstruck, but I try to keep my expression as guarded and neutral as possible. At least I have stopped crying. But my ruse is up. He's seen everything. His gaze is unwavering and remains trained on mine. I feel naked - unsure of how to proceed. But I know that he is waiting for... something. Reassurance I suppose?

I guess I owe him that much.

So I swing my legs to the side of my chair - turning myself wholly towards him - and hesitantly lift my arms to encircle his body in a ungainly mimicry of an embrace. Ondolemar's breath hitches in surprise and I feel him tense up. Have I ever hugged him out of my own accord? But before I know it, Ondolemar has relaxed into my embrace, and is returning it enthusiastically. We stay like this for a while before the discomfort in my back and arms becomes apparent from the strain of our awkward position.

I need to start acting like myself again anyway.

I disentangle myself from him and stand. Ondolemar follows suit, but to my dismay he is still too close to me. We are merely inches apart - observing one another silently. It seems I have broken some unspoken boundary I had put up between the two of us long, long ago. I try to push unwanted memories of his oddly affectionate past advances to the back of my mind - they spring forward anyway.

No, no, no. Not this. Not now. Not...ever.

But I am weak.

And the way that he is looking at me right now, like I am the only being in all of mundus is... comforting. And maybe, just maybe, I am not the nothing that everyone else thinks I am - that I know I am.

I feel Ondolemar's breath on my face, see his familiar, kind eyes darken and flicker down to my lips. His intent is clear but he does not act on it, instead choosing to watch me closely - waiting for me to decide. I smirk inwardly. Such a gentleman as always.

It would be so easy to just let go. To go ahead and do it. I have nothing left to hold on to.

Oh, to Oblivion with it all.

With great fervor I wrap my arms around him once more and crash my lips against his- giving in to this physical reassurance. Ondolemar's eyes widen at my sudden, decisive assault, but he quickly recovers and shuts his eyes. As he runs his hands hungrily up and down my body and through my hair, I relax, letting my eyes drift closed - succumbing to pleasurable sensations. I allow him to take the lead in deepening our kiss - worried that he will notice my inexperience otherwise. When his tongue ghosts over my bottom lip I allow him entry and am surprised by his tenderness. I am clumsy. It has been a long while since I have kissed anyone. My lips move mechanically over his. He either does not notice or does not care.

His gentleness and passion are so wholly foreign to me. I drink it all up greedily. I need it desperately. It is as if up until this moment I have been dying of thirst in a desert without this affection to sate myself.

And this need... It scares me. It terrifies me right to the core of my being.

His hands are toying with my belt buckle now. The sheer want that overcomes me is truly horrific. I want it all. To have all of him. And what's more - what I cannot believe myself even thinking- is that I want to give all of myself to him in return.

I need this to stop.

In fear, I push Ondolemar away from me just as abruptly as I decided to kiss him. He staggers backward and manages not to trip - with a dazed expression plastered on his face. His eyes are glazed over and his dirty blonde hair is in a complete disarray.

" Leave," I utter vitriolically.

And he looks... betrayed? No, perhaps utterly crestfallen is a more apt description.

"Do not do this, Estoril." Ondolemar entreats, his voice cracking oddly.

Who is he to think he can order me around.

"Do not do this... to me."

I feel a pang of guilt. But no, what difference does he think saying that will make? No amount of his pain or desperation will change my decision. I will not allow myself to have what I want. Not at the expense of myself.

Why can he not see that?

Ondolemar does not budge. I feel my frustration mounting. I cannot bear to have him near me any longer. I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists.

"Leave! Get out of my house!" I screech as I gesticulate towards the door.

I see his indecision as he begins to step toward me before immediately rethinking his action. He blinks rapidly in a flustered manner and breathes deeply- letting out a long, audible breath.

Now his eyes are vacant- devoid of all their previous warmth.

" Very well. Goodbye Estoril."

I do not watch him leave. My eyes are fixed on the floor in front of me. When I hear the dining hall door open and slam shut I know that I am truly and completely alone.

I still feel the ghost of his embrace, his lips on mine, and the longing...that wretched, shameful feeling in the pit of my stomach, working it's way up to the back of my throat - clawing its way out.

I must be insane, I want to bolt out of the door after him and hold him in my arms again- picking up where we had left off. My body aches to be touched again.

I shiver at thoughts of what could have been dancing across my mind. I mull over, and over, different scenarios of how - perhaps - I could have had what I wanted. But I know that there is no use. He is gone, and that is what I had needed to happen. But I cannot ignore the sinking feeling of regret that washes over me. I stay like this, a lonely, frustrated, and miserable mess for far too long. Paralyzed in my indecision.

What has he done to me?

You are absolutely pathetic. Start taking some responsibility for yourself once in a while.

My head whips around at the sound of mother's cruel voice.

You looked so lonely, I thought you could use some company.

I see mother's familiar form across the room. I groan loudly. Mother's pesky taunts are the last thing I want to be dealing with at the moment. I brace myself to be kicked while I am down.

Upon closer inspection, something is very wrong.

Mother looks drastically different. Her eyes glow unnaturally, her skin is deathly pale with cheeks so gaunt that she appears red dress she normally wears is ragged and torn, and her fingernails have elongated into sharp, foot-long talons. As she begins to slowly stalk towards me, her face contorts itself into a demonic grin revealing dagger-sharp teeth.

My every instinct is screaming at me to run. But I am frozen in place.

Whatever could be the matter, dearest daughter?

"Wh-who are you?" I stutter apprehensively.

I receive no reply. Just more grins.

Mother is nearly upon me when I finally spring into action, beginning to run. I am too late. Her talons grab hold of the back of my robe and yank me towards her. Instinctively, I reach for my dagger and pull it out of its sheath on my hip. I spin around swinging wildly at mother- my glass blade pierces flesh.

I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Mother is gone. Pain shoots through my body. I look down to see that I have stabbed my left thigh.

I let go of the blade's hilt in shock. But I must remove it immediately. I swallow a lump forming in my throat and take a deep breath - gathering my nerves in preparation. Blood gushes out upon its extraction and tears spring to my eyes. With the last bits of my adrenaline-fueled energy, I hastily cast several consecutive fast healing spells.

When the wound has closed up and healed to a satisfactory extent for the time being, I sigh and collapse to the floor - shivering and hyperventilating.

I stay that way for the remainder of the night. Alone on the south dining hall floor.

The next morning I drag myself to my room. I lock myself in.

I do not leave. Only days later when the pains of hunger become unbearable do I warily retrieve leftovers from the south dining hall. Ondolemar had been thoughtful enough to place spells on the food to keep it from spoiling.

I do not sleep much for fear that mother will return. She does not.

When I finally do sleep all that occupies my dreams are her glowing eyes and evil smile inching closer and closer. Deep, dark circles form under my now perpetually bloodshot eyes.

Ondolemar does not return either. I miss him intensely and it pains me to think about him. Every time I begin to I am struck with intense, inexplicable feelings of self-loathing.

When, to my dismay, I receive a letter from him, I toss it out without even opening it.

I avoid thinking about him.

A fortnight passes.

I do not see father, and I do not seek him out- assuming he would currently prefer solitude. Sometimes I hear him walk past my door. Sometimes I hear him talking to himself. But as far as I can tell, he has made no efforts to pack any of his belongings in preparation for his impending exile.

I start reading again. To both keep myself busy and to escape reality. Yet, I have already read and re-read every book in the house. I desire more. So I decide I ought to delve back into my magical studies. This desire for magical knowledge is what lures me back into the outside world. I trek to Cloudrest's library in search of books on destruction magic, but I instead come across something altogether different.

Hidden - perhaps forgotten - behind a neatly stacked row of dusty tomes, I find it. The Doors of Oblivion. Intrigued, I take it home and quickly learn that it is a conjuration skill book.

Conjuration is a school of magic that is looked down upon in Aldmeri culture- particularly due to its spells concerning necromancy. It is widely seen as unnatural and obscene - an affront to our ancestors.

I nearly throw the book away.

But I am curious, so curious. It would not hurt to understand and be aware of such things, would it? I am, after all, practically a leper in the eyes of polite Aldmeri society anyway these days. What harm could knowing conjuration do to my reputation?

I practically devour it's knowledge.

And, surely... surely it would not hurt if I practiced my newly procured knowledge on animals...?

Perhaps it is poetic justice that while wandering through the woods looking for said animals I come across a bear. I kill it swiftly with a few powerful firebolts that hit the beast squarely in the head. Briefly, I reminisce on my near fatal encounter with a cave bear in my youth and chuckle.

Then, my hands shaking apprehensively, I tense up my fingers - willing some of my magicka to morph itself into swirling blue orbs in my palms. Bringing my hands together to fuse the two orbs into one, I hurl it at the bear's corpse. Azure tendrils spin around it, and then snake themselves into its orifices before lifting it off the forest floor to a standing position. I gasp as the re-animated bear with its mutilated face and glowing, blue eyes stiffly moves toward me. I reach out with a tentative hand to rest it on the bear's thoroughly burnt forehead - marveling at what I have done. The bear looks so... lively. My heart skips a beat. This being before me has transcended death by my hand and I am in awe of this newfound power - at what this could mean for me.

Unfortunately, mere seconds later, I feel my control over the beast slipping, and the same azure tendrils burst free from their fleshy prison. I jolt out of the way as the bear topples forward - quite dead. I sigh in disappointment, but what did I expect? I resolve to seek out smaller, weaker animals to practice on. I do so immediately.

The next day I am woken up by loud knocks on the front door. Cranky, I try to ignore the distant, yet increasingly booming knocks that could only have been magically generated - wishing that the servants had not all resigned. Several minutes later, since the knocking had not let up, I hoist myself out of bed with a loud groan and hastily throw on my Thalmor robes.

I am greeted at the door by a grim Master Sinyir. I warily invite him in and we sit together in the drawing room. Discourse between the two of us is strained and formal, and I am unsure of the purpose of his visit. When I confront him about it, his reply is simple and to the point - he wanted to inquire after my wellbeing. I am not sure if I believe this. Perhaps he only wanted to spy on father - to see if he had left yet. When I confront Master Sinyir about this, he looks hurt, and tells me that I should know him better than to think that he would try to deceive me in such a way. As Master Sinyir takes his leave, he lets me know that if I ever need aid, I should not hesitate to ask, and that he will always be ready to help. I thank him halfheartedly- not sure if I will ever take him up on his offer.

Two days later, it is the first day of Second Seed. I wake up knowing that today is the day that father must leave. Now I stand at his bedroom's door - awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

So I knock

One time... Two times...

No answer.

Three times... Four times...

Still nothing.

With a deep breath I decide to let myself in.

Father's room is in an utter disarray. His fine clothes are strewn across the floor, some are piled up several feet high. The large, ornately carved wooden bed's sheets are also on the floor at its foot. Several plates with scraps of partly moldy food are stacked on the bedside table. I see father seated in his favorite silk cushioned chair, facing away from me in front of his floor-to-ceiling picture window. An unbidden childhood memory digs its way out of the crevices of my mind. I remember being five, sitting in father's lap while he was seated in that chair in front of that window, and begging him to tell me a story. He must not have taken notice of my intrusion, because he does not turn around. I cautiously approach him.

"Father..."

He still does not turn around, he must be napping. So I try again. " Father, I need to speak with you..."

Father's lack of a response is disconcerting. So I take a few more steps toward his seated form and tap his shoulder. His head lolls limply to the side at my prodding. I slowly make my way to stand in front of him- dreading what I will see.

His eyes are not closed. They stare vacantly at nothing. And I do not - cannot - admit to myself the obvious.

"Father... I need to speak with you. Today- you need to leave today and I want to know what your plan is. Where are you going?"

I do not expect a reply, because I already have one, and I already know - I see- Father's plan laid out before me. He is already gone. In the corner of my eye I spy an empty vial at his feet.

It all hits me at once. The panic tingles throughout my body, searing my nerves with red-hot fear. My numb, empty mind floats far above my body, watching helplessly as I hyperventilate- the air around me is suffocating. Frantically, I attempt to revive him in vain. I shake him, I yell and plead to no avail. I cast a grand healing on him, as I see it fail, an idea dawns on me. In a stroke of madness, I summon my magicka and hurl a swirling blue orb laced with desperate intent at him, hoping against hope the reanimation spell will prove successful.

It does not. My strength, far too inferior, and my knowledge of conjuration, far too minimal to execute such a spell.

Trembling uncontrollably, I back away from father and his lifeless, haunting eyes. I back away, all the way till I hit the door. Only then do I turn around and bolt out. I do not halt until I am safely alone again in my room. I need to think. And so, I pace.

But I know what I must do. I knew from the moment I looked into father's eyes and saw an endless void - a terrifying finality that I must flee.

It is time for me to leave.

This is not my home anymore. Now everything that tied me here is gone.

If I am nothing and nobody, then I will allow no mer to bear witness to my shame.