The Dark Path: Story of a Dunmer – Part 7

• Posted by ricardo maia March 21, 2012 - 760 views

       One cannot live alone, Mother, you knew that when you gathered  all those people around you to rebuild the clans in Winterhold, so that we could fight back the constant attacks coming from those nords thugs. You were powerless by yourself, but when they saw our people backing your leadership they trembled and withdrew. They were afraid to face our people united, and they still have every reason to fear us, because someday we will drive them away from this land. It was a good short interlude for our people in Winterhold. The bullying and the spanking almost ceased for a while - they knew the price we charged for every insult and every wound. In the end, only treachery could have silenced your voice and refrained your hand. They said it was an accident due to some careless fire spell - they like blaming everything on magic round here - but I knew you’ve never been careless or even casual about anything, and besides, what kind of fire could have burned the flesh of so many good dunmer and left the house still standing?

       So I lost my family and friends, and since then, I’ve been on my own, living among sworn enemies or reluctant allies, being tolerated rather than welcome, hearing the whispers and insults from lesser people as soon as I turn my back to them. But I’m not alone anymore, because I’ve found a new family. Ok, maybe we’re not really a family, it’s more like a clan thing, but we call each other brothers and we must pay our respect to the venerable remains of our spiritual mother. My elder sister Astrid says the bones of the Night Mother will soon be coming to the refuge. I’ve found that detail quite endearing – nothing shows more affection and respect than displaying the bones of your loved ones in your living room. I showed her the knucklebone of yours I got to rescue from the White River, and she was equally touched.

       I really like it here. They have just a few simple rules, but they are so similar to what you taught me when I was a child I almost feel at home. Do what you’re told; Don’t ask questions; and the golden rule – Never go against the Family! It’s good to live among people who finally make some sense! They let me in wholeheartedly and I fitted the place like I was born to be here. They are so ready to forgive my flaws! I was asked to kill a woman in order to be accepted, and I was fool enough to express my doubts about the righteousness of that act – you know I’m always trying to do what is right, mom. Sure the woman was a harpy hag, but she seemed guilty of nothing worse than pestering her neighbors and turning the life of her husband and children into a living hell – trifles, really, for someone who’s had the bad luck of being born a barbarian and living in this wild land. But my elder sister enlightened me about it, mom, just like you always did – There are no innocents, she said, not even one!

       I stopped asking stupid questions and did what I was told, mom, and as the rich red blood of the nord woman sprayed over the wooden floor, a great joy filled my heart and I felt this deep urge to cry. Astrid left the room, leaving me alone to relish on this new feeling and to reflect on the truth inside her words. We are not just killers, mom, we are also instruments of justice and retribution from the Gods, The Real Ones, not the Nine Impostors. Every bleeding wound, every cry of agony, every tear of misery, every thought of despair that we cause, is just a little step in our ever unfinished work to bring order to worldly chaos and meaning to mortal existence.

       You’d be proud of me, Mother, for here in the Dark Brotherhood, we have devoted our souls to a nobler and higher purpose, and that has set us apart from ordinary people, even people of our own races. It’s a blissful life, but also a life full of hardness and labor, and yet the severity of our works shall be always tempered with piety and compassion, though never hesitancy, for it´s a matter of life and death we deal. And the way we serve is by killing everything that walks, runs, slides, crawls, flies, swims, hovers or stands still in this land, except for children – I promise mom, it’s not that we’re picky, I know how you used to hate picky people - We’ve tried many times but those damn brats just don’t die, no matter how hard you beat, cut or stab them, and nobody here knows the reason. Must be the will of the Gods or something. Anyway they’re safe from us for a while, but they have to grow up someday, don’t they? And then...