JoS/Kanna/Aliya's Backstory
Last Seed, 16th, 3E 427
Dear diary… or is that too cliché? I don't know how to start a diary. I've never kept one, never even had an opportunity to have one, not that I've had any reason to in the past.
So, why do I have one now? Well, it was kind of like a gift, but also kind of like a homework assignment given to me by this friendly elderly Breton man called Socucius Ergalla. He works with the Census and Excise, a legislative branch of the Empire that mainly deals with taxes, and I think his job is keeping track of who's coming in and who's going out of this island through this port. Not sure, though. He's been interviewing me and asking a lot of questions, most of which concern my childhood, past experiences, and my eventual release from custody. I recently got released from prison, you see, and I'm currently enjoying a short probation, which serves as a test period for how well I can perform as an "ordinary" citizen. I'm still technically being detained, but if everything goes well, my criminal history will be stricken from Imperial records tomorrow.
The thing Socucius and I have talked about the most is what I did to land in jail, and even though I admit my fault in my crime, I have always insisted, and will always insist, that I didn't deserve as harsh a punishment as I received. Most soldiers aren't buying my stories, because they all know what I've done, but this Breton thinks there could be something to it. He wants to hear my side of this story as clearly, transparently, and honestly as possible, and thought it'd be best for me to do it in the form of an essay. That's why he gave me this diary. So, this is for you, Socucius! My life up until now!
To put the story of life into one simple word, it's been miserable.
I was born in Anvil, but I've lived most of my childhood in an orphanage in Skingrad. It's a wealthy town east of Kvatch, southwest of the Imperial City. That's basically where I grew up, where I became me. Both of my parents were Altmer, born and raised in Alinor, and even though I have some memories of my mother, most of what I know about them comes second-hand from what I've heard from others. None of these stories paint them in a good light, and it's hard for me to even wrap my head around the things they did in my ancestral home.
Based on what I've heard and read about the events that transpired before my mother fled Summerset Isles, my parents weren't people who were too concerned with law or morals. They were part of some trendy group of young revolutionaries called "the Beautiful" who believed that their homeland of Summerset Isles must undergo radical changes to "modernize", but they morphed into something more sinister over time.
No sugar-coating here; my parents were terrorists. Both of them. Vandalism and the destruction of property were just the start of crimes in the organization they were a part of. Targeting and even succeeding in assassinating members of the royal family was the endgame. That's what led to her coming to Cyrodiil, to escape justice. She was already pregnant with me when she came to Cyrodiil, while my father died in the days following her escape, with his head chopped clean off his shoulders under the headsman's axe.
Having fled from Alinor to Anvil with nothing in her pockets, she was forced to lay low and become a beggar, which is where I come in. Not sure what she did to provide for herself and me through these years of my early childhood; could've been odd jobs, thievery, or even prostitution. As a career criminal, she had the skills to pay the bills as far as dishonest work goes, but she also had the looks. I remember my mother being the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She was like a goddess come to life, and I'm sure even Dibella would pale in comparison. Her heritage probably wasn't that pure, as evident by her skin tone, which was lighter and paler than what you'd expect from an Altmer, a skin that I've inherited as well, but I digress.
She couldn't escape justice for long, and she was arrested on one fateful night in early spring, in the year I turned four. I'm not exactly sure how it happened because I was asleep at the time, and after the guards stormed our makeshift home in the cellar of the Harborside Warehouse, I never even saw her again. I was simply told that she was put in jail to wait for her date in court and eventual judgment, and then I was also taken into custody.
Considering that both my parents were convicted terrorists, amongst the most wanted criminals to walk the streets of third-era Alinor, I wasn't exactly set to have an easy life either. Still, guilty of no wrongdoing up until that point, I was at least given a chance at a comfortable life. The orphanage in Skingrad was the only one that would take me, which in hindsight, might've been a good thing. Even though I don't have many fond memories of that place, I doubt things would've been much better anywhere else in Cyrodiil. Maybe I could've been adopted by somebody had I been brought to Kvatch, or maybe even Rihad, but my brains don't work like that. It's pointless to speculate "could've beens" and "would've beens" when there's no way of knowing. Besides, the town was wealthy and safe, and the milieu was gorgeous. The orphanage itself was a beautiful building just outside the city walls built right beside the Surille Brothers vineyards.
The other kids were friendly most of the time, and we all got along decently well, but there were really only a couple I could call friends. I got along exceptionally well with Else, a Nord girl around my age, but my best friend probably was Glarthir, a goofy young Bosmer boy. We were the only elves in a house full of humans, and we kinda clicked because of that. There were also some bullies there, so a girl taller than most kids her age, a girl with pointy ears, was probably an easy target, and the fact that there were like three boys for every one girl obviously didn't help my case either. Myself? I was a bit of a troublemaker in and out of the orphanage, and I'm not ashamed of it.
The two friends I mentioned aside, the only one I looked up to in that place was Tumindil, but he wasn't an orphan, though. He's an Altmer like me, and works as a priest in the chapel. Still does, I'm sure. He used to visit the orphanage almost daily but didn't work there officially. He always seemed so happy to see me. I loved him, I really did. He was a nice and charitable man and even taught me some magic. I've always had an aptitude for the arcane, for the lack of better words. Tumindil himself said that Magicka flows through me like the wind blows through leaves on the trees. I guess what he meant was that I'm equally skilled as I'm vulnerable.
I hated the headmistress and have nothing good to say about her. She was a control freak, a perfectionist, and very irritable. She was filthy rich, and while it was charitable of her to run an orphanage - which I suppose is admirable - she was stingy too. Keeping us kids well-fed wasn't on top of the list of her priorities. Instead, she was obsessed with enhancing her own status as a philanthropist while looking as fine as possible. Skingrad is a wealthy city, and there's this class of women who like to wear fancy Colovian dresses and expensive jewelry and then compete with each other about who has the richest husband and who buys them the best gifts… and my headmistress was part of that class. I think her husband works in the castle in some high position, but I'm not sure.
Still, I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous of that lifestyle. Their daughters were typically gorgeous too, lived amazing lives in luxury, and I would kill to wear something that elegant just for one hour in my life.
Her assistant was even worse, but in a different way. Darius, a filthy man. Everyone hated him, not just me. He was so clingy, slimy, and inappropriate. He was the owner's son, or grandson. I'm not actually sure, but he was a pampered prick who only worked in that place so he could be close to children and harass them, I bet. Worst of all, since he had the family connections, he got away with it. He has touched me in an inappropriate manner more times than I can count and even got away with straight-up molesting me. One time I got yelled at by the headmistress after slapping Darius for trying to touch me from under my skirt. Made me want to slap her too, but she was screaming about throwing me on the streets, so I had to bite my lip.
We were all expected to work for our keep and were only offered beds and one meal a day, nothing more. No pocket money, no nothing. We were taught to read and write, but that's about it. Everything else we had to learn on our own or learn independently. I mostly picked up odd jobs where I could, but I also worked at the West Weald Inn as an assistant waitress on every Loredas when the restaurant was the busiest. It's a lovely establishment, apart from that creep of an Alchemist who lived in the cellar for some reason. The pay wasn't great, but they did sometimes offer me leftovers from the food they had.
I also volunteered in the chapel on weekend mornings, mostly because I wanted to learn more about magic. Most of my arcane knowledge comes from reading books and learning spells in the chapel, sometimes alone, sometimes with Tumindil as my tutor. I also studied at the orphanage in secret. The library in the orphanage was also surprisingly large, and I liked to sneak into there. Got some beatings and spankings thanks to it, but it was all worth it, probably. The headmistress was a frail old woman and her slaps wouldn't hurt a rat. Her yelling and screeching were way more painful.
Now, here I have to admit to some of the wrongdoings I've done in my life. I already said I'm a troublemaker, but that word doesn't really tell much. Most of my "troublemaking" can be boiled down to practical pranks, such as mixing some unsavory herbs with a potion bottle meant for a sick kid who once bullied me. Let's just say he got even sicker because of it, and nobody even suspected me.
Then, I've also stolen. A lot. I used to steal from rich people who wouldn't even notice if a coin from their fat purse was missing, and shop owners who looked like they might have had a little more fresh produce than they could sell in a day. I got away with the majority of my thefts, and on the rare occasions I got caught, I made sure to dispose of the evidence before the guards could pin anything on me. Like, they all knew what I had done, but without proof, I couldn't be arrested! Let me tell you, the guards freaking hated my guts for that, especially Dion, the captain of the town guard. He did get me one time, though. I had stolen a sweetroll, and because I stuffed my face with it too quickly, I didn't have the time nor the wits to clean my face of the frosting. By Azura's tits, the yelling I got that day! I was washing that dork's spit off my face for hours!
That said, will I apologize for what I did? Do I have regrets about these crimes? No, absolutely not. I did what I needed to survive and not go to bed on an empty stomach, and I will continue those ways if need be if that's what it takes for me to grow up to become a beautiful woman like my mother was. Besides, I never stole more than I needed, and I never stole from the poor. I was trying to survive, not to get rich.
So far, it hadn't been really that bad, just slightly bad, so why did my life take a turn towards misery? Well, I'm at fault for that. I dug my own grave and caused a horrible accident, and for that, I apologize and have a lifetime's worth of regret.
I had recently learned how to create fire from my hands, you see. I could already cast Chameleon, Sanctuary, and some Shields, and I could even detect nearby lifeforms and walk on water, so lighting things on fire was the next logical step. Our headmistress had forbidden us all from practicing spellcasting and other trickery while inside the orphanage, but I was both stubborn and eager to get better, so I was training in secret.
Due to having only practiced Destruction spells in controlled environments so far, always with a tutor by my side, I made a grave miscalculation in what kind of damage my spell could potentially do. My spell got out of hand, and because I wasn't sure how to put the fire out fast enough, I ended up setting a fire that eventually burned the entire building to the ground. I got away unharmed, but I was too scared to admit to being the one to do it. I was too afraid of the consequences to even wake anyone up, a regret that I will, without a doubt, take to my grave. It ended up costing the lives of three orphans, as well as Darius and the headmistress, with the rest of the poor kids fortunately getting out in time.
The guards scheduled for their shift outside the city walls arrested me, having figured out pretty quickly that I was at fault here. I tried to run away, but I had no way of outrunning two grown-up men. I was subsequently arrested and brought to the town guard's office in the Skingrad Castle, where Dion chastised me and told me that whatever hope he had of me turning my life around and becoming an honest citizen of the Empire had burned down alongside that orphanage. I couldn't even respond with words. All I did was hang my head in shame, trying to hold the tears in.
There wasn't a lot of debate about what my punishment would be. As far as I know, Dion never investigated the incident as I had already confessed to the crime, so there was no way for me to defend myself or explain that it was just an accident. Then again, even if they did recognize that it was an accident, there was still a punishment to be had. This punishment was to serve fifteen years in prison, with reckless manslaughter, arson, and destruction of property cited as reasons, and Dion promised me, "You will be sorry".
Well, I was sorry, and I must've apologized a thousand times over in the coming days, spending most of my waking hours crying and blaming myself for what had happened. How could I not have? I mean, I know it was my fault, and the fact that there was no way for me to turn back the time to undo the damage I had done hurt me so much. Still, things were about to get a lot worse for me.
The facilities in Skingrad weren't equipped to house me for long, so I only served time in Skingrad prison for about one week. Dion said it was because he couldn't stand to listen to me cry and wail all day long, but I know he was just being a dick, and the real reason was to transport me to a larger facility in the Imperial City, which would be more equipped to house youngsters like myself. It was a smaller section of the Imperial prison, kind of like a juvenile detention center. At least, that's what I was told before I was carted there. The truth is, that place was hell where for the next one and a half quarter of my life would be a nightmare come alive.
I was less than a prisoner. I was a slave. We all were. On the day I met the head of that facility, the man I only know as the "Warden", he stripped me of my old prison rags, telling me I wouldn't need them anymore. With my limbs and wrists shackled and heavy iron locked around my neck, I was a little more than an animal in his eyes… an animal to be disciplined, trained, and re-equated for a new purpose. He made it abundantly clear that his word was my law and that he might've as well been my new god, for my place, my position in life, was solely underneath his boot.
After being subjected to this humiliation and reluctantly admitting to him that he was right, that I was indeed his prisoner, he snapped and took it even further. He tied me up, rendered me helpless to resist what he was about to do to me, and then whipped me as punishment for my insolence. To this day, I'm still not sure what I said to offend him - perhaps it was always meant to happen regardless of what I said or did - but for what it's worth, I'd never been hurt and tortured so badly in my life. My back still bears a few scars from his whip, from when he managed to draw blood, and they'll probably never heal.
Next, he wanted to set strict rules I would have to follow every waking moment of my new life. These were rules on how I should act, how I should talk - when I should talk, more accurately - and how I should address my new owners. Begging for forgiveness and mercy was a big no-no, for none would ever be offered, and even the slightest infraction would always result in disciplinary measures. I had to accept. I just had to. I had just met him less than an hour ago, but in my eyes, he was already the most terrifying man in all of Tamriel. I was terrified of him beyond reason and felt like I had no choice.
Then, as if a hundred lashings weren't enough, and as if all those things he made me say and vow weren't humiliating enough… he used me, raped me on the spot. He forced his filthy thing in me without warning, laughing as he did, and stole my innocence away from me in a bloody, teary, and painful blink of an eye. Every girl who grows up on the streets knows about sex, and knows to fear certain kinds of men, and I obviously was no different, but it was so, so much worse than I could've even imagined. He was so rough, and I remember just crying my eyes out throughout the whole ordeal of him being inside me, praying in my head for him to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Note to Socucius, as you obviously will be reading this as well… please do something about that awful man! Expose his crimes! The things he does in that prison are horrible!
I don't know how long it even took, but it felt like an eternity. By the time he was over, I was already numb from pain, teetering on the edge of insanity, and too afraid to even cry anymore… and all that bastard had to say to me was that I deserved it. Somehow, that hurt more than anything because in my twisted mind, I accepted it. I couldn't agree with it because I hated it, but I sort of just accepted, there and then, that this would be my life from now on. Nothing I could do about it, nothing I could do to escape that place. Only death could've spared me from that fate, and I genuinely started questioning whether this life I was set to live was worth living. Perhaps I would've even ended it all that very night had I had the means to attempt suicide, but locked in solitary confinement, hands tied to a wall, I could only wallow in my misery, with the Warden's words of me deserving this still echoing in my head.
Still, that was just the first day. The next evening he did the same thing again, and then again, and then the following day too. Somehow, it didn't hurt as bad physically, and as far as I did everything exactly as he demanded, he would act nice… relatively speaking. Being degraded and reminded of what a whore I am while being forced to serve his cock was his modus operandi, after all.
Then, he came to me one day and showed me that sex doesn't have to be only sex, if that makes any sense. I wrote about being whipped and tied up, and sex often involved that too. I remember being tied up with my legs spread to a chair, hands tied behind my back to a post with a tight ball-gag, making it impossible for me to bite down. He had these weird toys, stones vibrating using some kind of shock magic, I think, and he used some genuine electricity to push me further as well. The reason why he used them was because he was pissed about not being able to make me cum, words I didn't understand back then, words I came to learn very well after that.
Those vibrating stones honestly wouldn't have been so bad, had he not taped them to my skin, but the shock magic… that was the worst! He targeted my most sensitive spots with it, and every single jolt caused my body to jerk painfully against the unrelenting steel restraints. I was crying, hyperventilating, practically screaming into my gag from pain, but strangely enough, he eventually got his way. It must've taken for over an hour of me just suffering, struggling in vain against all those tight restraints before he finally forced me to "cum". It was scary and intense, but strangely, I felt relieved. It was like a flush, or a reset or something, and even though my heart was still beating through my chest, even though I was drenched in sweat, my body relaxed.
For the coming weeks, he continued to train me, vowing that he would make me addicted to sex, and more importantly, addicted to cumming. I guess at some point, my body just naturally started to shut off its defenses, and it wasn't long after torturing me with those toys that he made me cum with his dick for the first time too. I couldn't believe I was feeling pleasure from being raped. It made me feel sick and question my sanity. It still does. He used to talk about how I secretly must enjoy being a slave, and often encouraged me to say it. Of course, I would tell him what he wanted to hear just to appease him, but in my heart, I continued to deny it… for most of the part. On some days I wondered the same thing, especially toward the end of my sentence.
Even though I was used exclusively by him for the first week or so, he wasn't the only man who had the privilege of abusing me, as he had some underlings and "customers" too, and I wasn't the only one to be used either. Girls and boys alike were potential targets, with many coming and going in and out of the prison. Sometimes, we were forced to do sexual acts on each other for the amusement of guards watching over us, and if I'm being honest, those experiences were the best, solely because those experiences were the tamest. On that note, the Warden wasn't actually the one who took my first kiss from me. He didn't like the idea of kissing me for some reason, so he never did. Instead, my first kiss was actually with a young Imperial girl I don't even know the name of. Yeah, my first kiss was with another girl… I'm not sure how I should feel about that, but I guess I should be glad it wasn't him…
All in all, they had successfully managed to make me lose all hope of ever getting away from that place, and eventually, my acceptance of the situation only grew. I was convinced that I was going to be in that place for the rest of my days, but I didn't care. It was all just whatever, and I had utterly given up… but here, my life takes an unexpected turn.
It was about a week ago. I saw the Warden coming, and I was already ready to serve him, believing he wanted to violate me again, but to my shock and surprise, he said that I'd been pardoned and that they'd begun the process of my release, scheduled to take place in less than an hour. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and I even told him he must've been joking, but he just said he was being serious. He just dragged me to his office, released me from the chains, and gave me clothes, telling me to present myself properly and not try anything funny.
Throughout this all, he portrayed no emotion. He was utterly indifferent about the whole situation, as if everything he put me through meant nothing to him. I was hoping for him to at least show a sign of emotion and express some feelings towards me after all those times he had abused me. He always went on about how pretty and sexy his little elven slut was, but… I guess those were just empty words because that encounter, my last meeting with him, proved to me how expendable I was in his eyes.
It was, like, his final "fuck you" to me, or something like that, but in hindsight, that's quite alright. I'm hoping to never see him again as I trust that you, Socucius, will take the contents of this "diary" very seriously. I fully expect a thorough investigation into that "juvenile detention center" and the unethical conduct that goes inside, which will eventually lead to that man's imprisonment and execution. That's the bare minimum. He deserves no lighter punishment.
Two Legionnaires entered the room about a minute after I had put on the clothes I was given, but before I could even ask them about what was going on and if I had really been pardoned, they told me to be quiet, and dragged me away from the office in chains. They put me in a prison carriage, ready to be taken away from the Imperial City, and I wasn't sure where I was even going.
It was a long and tedious ride. Saw some pretty sights on the way, and slept when I could. We stopped only twice, first in Cheydinhal for the night and second in Kragenmoor for another, but I was never let out from my prison carriage. I was served food - which was bloody delicious, honestly - but I wasn't allowed to ask questions, and the Legionnaires didn't stop to communicate with me at all, only giving me orders when they felt it was necessary. Despite their bluntness and being a little cold towards me, they did at least treat me well, and I've got to say, after over a year of being a slave… it felt good just being a normal prisoner.
At the end of the third day, we arrived in the city of Ebonheart, where I also spent one night. Oh, and I mean the one on the mainland, not the newly constructed "Castle Ebonheart" west of Vivec… I got confused once myself; apparently, there are two Ebonhearts! By the time I was transported to the ship, I was just so, so damn tired. The weather was pretty bad, and the boat was rocking and creaking like it was about to sink, but I slept more peacefully than I ever had.
I had a strange dream where a beautiful voice of a woman spoke to me. It could've been just figments of my own imagination, but she described how I was taken from the prison to here, Morrowind, the northeastern province of the Empire. She said she was watching, she said I'd been chosen. I also saw visions of a hellish landscape covered in ash storms under dark clouds. It was all so bizarre, but that's about all I remember. Not even sure why I'm writing about some dream. It just felt so… ominous…
I then woke up to the sound of a man talking to me, urging me to wake up. It startled me badly, as I've grown wary of strangers during the past year or so. He was a Dunmer, a fellow prisoner like me, and seemed really friendly, all things considered. He was also the first person to speak to me like this in such a long time, and even though it made me happy, I honestly didn't even know what to say. I must've looked so spooked, because he was asking stuff like was I okay, why I was shaking, did he startle me, things like that. I managed to reassure him I was fine and even gave him a friendly smile, but before we could start our little chat, we noticed an Imperial Legionnaire walking toward us. He picked me up by my wrists, undid my bindings, and simply told me to "walk". I asked him where we were, to which he politely answered, in the village of Seyda Neen, on the island of Vvardenfell. He escorted me to the Imperial Census office by the shore, and here I met Socucius Edgella.
Note to Socucius; you're a kind person. Kind people seem to be a rarity in my life. For that, I thank you.
So far, nobody has told me what in Malacath's hairy bollocks is going on, what's going to happen to me, why I have been brought to this strange, foreign land… and yeah, Socucius was no different! All he knew about me was my name, my criminal record, and the stuff he could tell about me just by looking at me: stuff like I'm an Altmer, I'm a girl, I'm a blonde, I'm preteen… you know, obvious stuff…
And, like I said, he's been interviewing me, asking me questions about my past, and even some that sounded utterly irrelevant to me. His first interview was honestly the weirdest. Sure, he's been asking me about my skills, education, and qualifications, but why does he care about my fictional cousin giving me an embarrassing nickname? Anyway, despite this, I answered as honestly as I could. Then, he instructed me to talk to Sellus Gravius, an officer for the Imperial legion stationed in the next room.
Sellus first reminded me of my probation and that I would be getting my release papers in a couple of days after all the paperwork had been finalized. After that, he handed me some pocket money, a fresh batch of spare clothing, a letter, and a package, leaving me a bit confused. He said that the package's been traveling with me since I left the Imperial City, and that I've been instructed to deliver the package to someone called Caius Cosades. Yet still, the only thing I wanted to know was why this was all happening!
"Look, I only learned of you coming here yesterday evening", Sellus said, looking me down with a scary, stone-faced expression. To paraphrase, he next told me: "I don't know why some kid like yourself would be brought here or why you were released from that prison ship, but know that the authorization comes directly from the Emperor himself. That's all that matters to me. You'll be a free woman soon, but I highly encourage you to read this letter, follow the instructions given to you, and deliver this package to Caius Cosades. Do not try to open the package, do not tamper with it, and for the Nine's sake, follow the rule of law. No thievery, no violence, no nothing. Do you understand?"
Yeah, seriously. I was pardoned by the Emperor himself. What in the world?
I find it hard to wrap my head around this being true, but the evidence points to it really being true. The letter really was directed to me, and it had been signed by the personal secretary to the Emperor. The man I seek lives in the city of Balmora to the north of here, and the letter says I should look for him in a cornerclub named "South Wall". Beyond that, no additional information has been given to me. I still don't know the meaning of all this. I kind of want to take a peek inside the package… I'm just so curious about this all. Hopefully, I'll have more answers soon.
That brings me back to today, and that's basically everything that's happened up until me writing this. As for my current feelings? Honestly, even though I'm looking forward to my freedom, I'm a little anxious. I'm a poor orphaned girl with no possessions beyond what I've been given here, and I've never even been truly independent. Where will I even sleep? Where will I make a home? Am I expected to just be homeless here? There's a spare room here in the census office where I can stay now, but will I be able to stay here after my probation ends? I guess I could try looking for work, but I've never had a real job beyond being an assistant waitress in an inn.
It's also a bit of a culture shock to be here, and it's gonna take a long time to get used to everything. This Seyda Neen village is tiny, and even though it's very "Imperialized", I can already tell this place is nothing like Skingrad. The general store is pretty much the only important building in this tiny village besides this office. There's no lodging though, which is really surprising considering how many people go through this place. The food they serve here is weird, too; Saltrice and Kwama eggs were the first meal I was served, and I don't even know what Kwamas are. Some local birds? Tasted decent, I guess. I've also been told that the Dunmer of Vvardenfell are wary of outsiders, with some even being outright racist toward others, but… so far, everyone's been friendly and awesome!
Anyway, that's my story and my thoughts about how I ended up here in Morrowind. Don't get too excited about reading any potential future updates, Socucius. I'll keep the future updates to myself to store my thoughts, secrets, and maybe a few notes here and there. Actually, I'm going to need to write down a lot of notes about directions and that kind of stuff if I intend to survive here.
And as a final note, I'll do my best to be as obedient and well-behaved as possible. Promise!
Backstories
Onward
- 1st Journal - Agent (By Aliya)