Uriel's Heir

Chapter 1

(track: "Breaker of Chains" by Ramin Djawadi)

I brush the dust off my thigh again, letting it fall like snow to the already covered floor. A slight breeze flows through the open window into the small stone room, rattling the chains that hang from the ceiling. I haven't been in here long. Three days to be exact.

And I spend my entire time thinking. They don't even let me have books. I don't like to be alone with my thoughts.

There's a war. A constant war going on in my head between good and evil— or perhaps what people think is good and what they think is evil? I don't know anymore.

I look at the dirty iron cell door that locks me inside. I could use of the bones, sharpen it into a pick and escape. But how far would I get before I got killed on sight?

I close my eyes again and put my hands on the golden fur of my Khajiit head, hunched over as I try to stop the thoughts, meditating on only the sound of the wind and chains... and the distance shuffling of other prisoners.

I'm guilty. I deserve this. I did wrong.

Who even am I anymore?

My eyes shut tighter, my rounded ears flat behind me as emotions take me.

My life is meaningless now. What purpose is there? I've searched for one ever since I left and... nothing. I fell into a dark pit of lost causes and missing morality. I've traveled in vain and became an honor-less and worthless parasite on this world.

And now I'm locked in here forever.

Anger begins to rise in me.

How could this happen?

How did the gods allow this to happen?

I thought when you lived a life for good, that good would happen in return. But all I got was betrayal and a grief so large it consumed my soul.

I look upwards at the tiny window only as large as my head and pick up my clay cup, shouting in fury and throwing it up at the wall so hard it shatters into pieces against the old rectangular stones.

My hands are balled into fists and I sink down, tearing at the loose, dirty trousers I wear until they're turned into shorts, needing something else to rip as I pretend it's a Nordic barbarian's body...

I can't really cry anymore but I manage to let out a few tears as I cling to my face and resist the urge to claw it until the pain goes away...

That's when something catches my attention.

My ear begins to twitch.

I look to the left when I realize what it is. The Dark Elf, a short fellow really, not impressively built either, rather skinny in fact. He has been here far too long, I can tell. His mind along with his body are wearing away. Dark Elves are the most distinct of the humanoid races. If not for their bright blood red eyes and deep blue complexion, their bony frame and uniquely thin features would definitely give them away. "Aw, what's the matter kitty kitty?" he mocks me with a tone like a snake. "The loneliness getting to you? Or the regret?" His arms rest through the holes in the metal gate, gawking at me from behind his bars. "There's a rat in my cell, Khajiit. A fat, tasty rat. Does the kitty want it? Is the kitty hungry?" He smiles with yellowed teeth, a creepy grin.