Bound By Madness

5. Wilting Blossoms

My arms itched. Itched, itched, itched! But I couldn't scratch, no! That would tear the stitches out. Couldn't do that again. It had hurt last time, so much worse than the itching could ever bother me. Worse even than the pain of sewing the thread across my skin. I was getting better at it, my hand steadier with each new pattern I created at Ellery's command. And each time I showed improvement, he let me create a new cap! So far, none had met his approval, but I knew that it was only a matter of time!

Time! So much time was passing! Or was it no time passing at all? I'd lost track of the days months ago. Months ago? Maybe months, maybe weeks, maybe years! But sometime after I had left the Imperial City when the Guild refused to offer me more work. Oh, but that didn't mean I couldn't work. I just wouldn't be able to use them to find jobs, but I could still use their fences to sell what I stole, so long as I did not break their rules in the meantime.

Oh, but I am losing track of my thoughts again, aren't I dear Ellery! Ahh, I would likely lose track of myself if you were not here to remind me of who I am. Not Juniper! I haven't been her in years!

I don't even feel like a Juniper anymore. No, no, not Juniper. But I don't feel like a Valencia anymore either. So who am I now? Who must I become to be someone again? Am I to be a Tanya? Tanya could be me, yes? No, no, not Tanya, I would be miserable as a Tanya. Perhaps Nova? No, I'm not Nova.

Tell me, Ellery, who must I be now? Patience? Patience. Yes, that could work, thank you Ellery. For I have much to do before you are willing to forgive me, don't I... I will need much patience and the name will help remind me of that.

Pulling my hands away from my arms yet again before they could start scratching, I continued down the road that led southward. Yes, Elsweyr would be an interesting place to go, I am sure. Maybe I would join a caravan and travel the land with the Khajiit, learning how to buy and sell goods from them! That sounded like fun!

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Horrible! It was horrible here! Why had I wanted to go to such a land as this?! What madness had entered my mind to make me come here? And why hadn't my Jester or Assassin stopped me? Had I angered them so, that they would find pleasure in being surrounded by those who felt no shame in taking advantage of my muteness to try and steal from me? Did they think my muteness meant I was also blind to their treachery?

Ha! They shouldn't have tried to target someone such as me! I might not catch all of their attempts, but I caught enough to know it was best for me to leave their company before I lost even more of the little treasures I had gathered over the past months. After all, even a good thief will be caught by another thief of equal or greater skill. Although, this did show me that I still had much left to learn.

I wonder if my Assassin would let me practice my skills with him, both sneaking and spying.

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Wasteful! These spoiled, rich nobles were so wasteful! How could they not feel an ounce of guilt for wasting so much food and coin? Did they not see the people starving in the streets? Or the orphaned children wandering about in threadbare clothing, the hope in their eyes slowly dying with each day that passed without something to bring their hope back to life?

Oh, but I would not, could not, let it go on without doing something to bring a bit of balance back into the world around me. So I did what I did best and stole from those who were wasteful, giving the spoils to those who needed it most. Of course, I kept some for myself, as I was not exactly thriving myself these days.

So much of my money went into thread and cloth as I tried to find something worthy of making my Jester a cap he would not refuse for once. Oh, how it pained me when he refused the fine cotton I had found in Elsweyr before I'd realized some of my best threads had gone missing, stolen by one of the thieves I was surrounded by each day. And I'd almost cried when he turned his back upon the soft crushed velvet I'd found in our wanderings through Valenwood, sneaking in and out of towns as we hurried towards Hammerfall.

Even so, nothing had pained me as much as when he'd refused the smooth black and gold cap I had made from the nauseatingly expensive silk I had found at a merchant's stand while passing through Anvil, but at least the coin hadn't been mine for long. And I was sure the noblewoman would find such fine silk worthy of her coin, if she'd just seen how it seemed to shimmer under the warm midday sun. Not that she ever had, but it didn't make it any less true. I'd actually cried as the cap slowly turned to ash a few weeks later as I sat on the floor of the inn in Sentinel.

But at least the food hadn't been as bland as some inns I'd stayed at, although I had to be careful of guards here. They seemed a bit more attentive than what I was used to in Cyrodiil.

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I'd found someone to teach me, a strange little Breton who was getting older and wanted someone to keep him company as he aged. He was skilled both thievery and speechcraft, but due to my lack of voice, he agreed that the second skill would only do me so much good. After all, it was the way you said something as much as what you said, and so the written word would be of limited use to me.

That didn't mean he didn't teach me how to weave the words I wrote so as to make as good an impression as I could. In turn, I worked on making my handwriting as pleasant to read as possible, since it would assist in making a good impression when the occasion arose.

The main focus, of course, was my skill in picking locks with both speed and ease, something that had gotten me nearly caught several times due to my lack of... well, focus. For this reason, he often would have me picking locks in his home while randomly asking questions or making sudden noises. Over the weeks and months that followed, it became easier to ignore most of the distractions, but the laughter of my Jester or the warm touches upon my skin from my Assassin would still pull my attention away from what I was doing.

The concerned look upon his face when I finally told him of the two had me confused. How could he not have noticed them slipping in and out of his home? Surely he'd heard Ellery's laughter this morning? My Assassin I could somewhat understand, since he was a master of sneaking, even if he refused to teach me properly and always seemed focused more on trying to make me see what tried to hide rather than how to remain hidden.

In the end, he simply chose to ignore the two and find new ways to focus. Ultimately, the best I was able to do was to quietly make agreements with the two, promising favors to them in exchange for not distracting me when I needed to focus on my work. That did nothing for when I was simply training, but at least they agreed to behave when I most needed them to.

None of us wanted to spend another night in jail. Not after last time. The stitches had barely been able to hide the scar left behind. Sometimes, I could still feel the shiv that had traced its way down my hip. Other times, I could feel the warm blood that had covered my hands after my Assassin had guided them mere moments later, stabbing, stabbing, over and over again into the man's throat.

I should wash my hands again. I can still feel the blood on them.