SHIRUDA

“Greetings my friend.” she said, as I sat down across from her at a table.

I had ordered an Ale in a small Inn located in the town of Vivec.

A soft smile graced her scarred face and red eyes were looking at me with serenity.

I returned the greetings and went on with my thoughts when I noticed her eyes were still locked onto me.

“What is it?” I asked, annoyed.

“Nothing” she said with a slight shrug, completely disregarding my hostility towards her. “It’s not often you see an outsider sitting down in Vvardenfell so casually. It’s almost as if you didn’t know of the hostility towards us on this island. You should count yourself lucky!”

Her smile turned into a grin “Then again, Vivec City has always been more welcoming than the rest of this place.”

I could hear her despise for the island and its people, so I was intrigued as to why she was here in the first place. I had come to study the ancient houses of Vvardenfell but she did not look like a scholar. She was very muscular for a woman, carried heavy armor, a shield and sword. Her beautiful face was covered in too many scars for her age. Mesmerizing eyes looked straight at me and captured my attention, yet somehow she seemed dangerous.

I don’t recall exactly why I started to blabber away with my purpose in Vvardenfell and that I had felt welcomed here but I do remember her laughing at me for feeling that way.

She said with a slightly dismissive undertone “Do you want to know what it is really like to live here? Sure, I am not a descendant of one of the great houses but you are studying this culture, are you not?”

Indeed I was, so I accepted her proposal and started taking notes.

And so she took me away into her world…

“I am sorry, where are my manners?! My name is Shiruda. And I am an Imperial.” she started, as if her race mattered to me.

“My parents and I used to live in the outskirts of the Imperial City. My mother was a seamstress to the nobles of the city and my father was a blacksmith. If I was asked about my childhood I would state it was good.

We had a few goats, chickens and three horses. Well technically 2 horses and a pony.

Mother always prepared enough food to keep my belly filled and father kept the house warm at night. It was a simple life, but I wanted for nothing.

One particular night I remember my mother waking me up. Trying to keep her voice calm, she told me to get dressed. To gather three of my favorite things and take nothing else, as we had to leave in a hurry. She did her best to pretend everything was fine, but I could see the panic in her face. I got scared, but was raised to do as told.

So I gathered my dagger- given to me by my father for my 13th birthday, a silver amulet – given to me by my mother for that same birthday, and a little jelly egg. I had stolen it off a trader from Murkmire for a bet with my classmates.

I went down the stairs of our little house, opened the creaking door and slipped into the stable. Normally I’d be greeted by the scent of hay, the warmth of fathers fire in the house as well as the calming huffing and puffing of the horses. Not that night, that night it felt cold, foreign and hostile.

My father had saddled the horses and opened the stables of our goats and chickens. They were running off and I wanted to chase after them but father held me back. He said we needed to leave, and that they could not come with us. So we mounted our horses and rode out of the city. We were just outside the gates when I heard such an awful sound that the hairs in the back of my neck stood up.”

I knew what she was. A vampire. A being that was feared amongst many. But at that moment I wasn’t scared of her. I saw the horror in her eyes. I heard the pain in her voice. Noticed her body shivering. She didn’t look directly at me, rather through me. Instinctively I took her hand to give her some sort of comfort. It looked as though she was reliving the upcoming moments without speaking aloud, but got pulled back by the touch. Seemingly not sure of how to appropriately accept kindness she hesitantly pulled away her hand.

“There was lightning. There was an awful sound and thunder. Suddenly chains dropped from the sky daring to rip apart the city. Accompanied by creatures so horrifying not even my darkest night terrors could measure them. Father shouted at me and mother to ride faster.  Out of what seemed like an abyss swallowing all happiness an arrow launched into his back and pulled him off his horse.

I resisted the urge to turn around and go after him as mother didn’t turn around. Didn’t scream, didn’t stop. And with tears running down her cheeks stared forward, rode faster.

Mother and I must have ridden for hours before our horses finally slowed down. Completely exhausted, we decided to rest at a small lake. First there was silence, lightning lighting up the night sky in the distance. Not even the wildlife seemed to exist. Only the alien sound of Oblivion, all-encompassing and my mothers dampened sobs.

After a little while she told me that our plan was to get to Vvardenfell.

Father had said that would be the only safe place for us now. The only place the worm cult hadn’t invaded. The only place Molag Bal had not set eyes on yet.

She warned me that the Dunmer would not be welcoming towards us. That we needed to be strong.

For Father.

We rode for days. Without food, as we had left in such a hurry, nothing else was important. We were tired and hungry, so one day we took shelter at a small shrine in The Rift. Thinking that we would be safe at a place of worship. But we didn’t know what lurked in the shadows.

That day my mother was taken from me as well, and the only kindness I was given since then was by the young vampire who decided that instead of feasting on me she would rather turn me into one of her kind. She thought not being able to have a child of her own she would just take another’s.

But when daytime came and these creatures finally fell into a sleeplike trance I slipped out and ran as fast as my legs could possibly carry me. To the nearest Port.

I was about to sneak on board a ship when the captain caught me. He wanted to turn me into the guards. I begged and pleaded with the Dunmer until finally he said that he would take me if I could offer something of value to pay for the travels. Reluctantly I took out the necklace my mother had given me. It was pure silver with a ruby heart. Engraved on the back with a word only her and I knew the meaning of. Contemplating whether or not the voyage was worth such a precious memento the Dunmer made the decision for me.

“That’ll do.” he said and ripped the necklace out of my hands.

A few days later without food – because the necklace only paid for voyage not for meals – we finally entered the harbor of Vivec City. I was happy to set foot on solid ground again even though I felt more lost than ever. I heard about an orphanage – which I went to, but they wouldn’t take in an outsider.

So I sat on the street, begging for food, yet no one would stop. As my stomach felt as though it was going to eat itself, something in my pocket began to move. At first I thought I was hallucinating but then the most adorable sounds followed the movement.

I reached into the pocket and got stung instantly. As I pulled the hand out a little Jelly clung to it. I was enchanted immediately and remembered what my mother had said to me in Cyrodiil. I must be strong. I must find a way. For father, and now, for mother as well. 

So I left the city. And I hunted wildlife. No one would buy from me, so I ate what I killed.

I started gathering ores and built myself a fireplace to smith armor and a shield. From then on I wore the helm whenever I ventured into the city to sell my trophies and meats to the merchants. They thought me tough and mysterious and could not see my pale skin, nor my youth or my eyes.

Only very recently Vvardenfell has become, shall we say, open to the idea of making business with outsiders as well. Which is why I can finally have an ale, in an Inn, without hiding myself up.

Yet, look around you.

People here would rather drink their ale standing up than sitting down at a grand table with the two of us.”

As I looked around me I saw the faces staring at us with hardened looks and hushed conversations. I looked back at Shiruda. Despite her story of hardship and grief, that soft smile played around her lips and made her look almost human, if not for those red eyes.

I could not understand why she would stay, now that she had the means to leave.

And so I asked, not knowing what to expect as an answer. Because whilst sharing her life I still felt as though her mind was unpredictable.

She took a big sip of her ale, smiled at me and with too much wisdom for her age she replied: “Why would I leave now? Now that people here start to realize that the color of our skin does not determine who we are. Now that they realize, that people who come here can honor their culture and traditions even though they were not born into it. Who would bring about progress, if everyone gave up and left.”