The Bound - A Tale Of Tamriel

15

Except.

The guards stopped dragging the Breton Tilly through the door, released her arms, and she stood up straight, staring at 'Hlaina', cocking her head to one side and smiling a crooked, evil smile that was so out of place on that face.

"You betray, 'Tilly'. That's what you do." The Breton stepped closer. "Think of yourself. Help yourself. There's no room to care about anyone else. You will always betray those around you, just as you will betray those you are bound to."

'Hlaina' couldn't say anything, words failing to even begin to emerge from her mouth. The Breton Tilly circled around her, trailing her hand up Hlaina's arm, across her shoulder, until she was stood behind the dark elf, whispering in her ear.

There, in the corner of her eye, indistinct, blurred. The 'presence'. Watching as she struggled, locked in a memory that was no longer her memory. She felt like it was making observations, testing, making notes. What was it? Why could she not see it?

"You will always be alone." A sharp pain struck Hlaina as a knife was thrust into her back, forced upwards. It was a killing stroke. One that would kill in a slow and painful way. One that she would learn later in her new life. One that she would have taught to her and would use time and time again.

ii. Tilly.

Her eyes opened, with much difficulty, flickering and blinking, the warm light almost painful. It took a while, but, soon, she managed to open them in full. Her eyes opening accompanied by pain all over her body and a need to retch. She immediately leaned over the side of the bed that she was on and tried to be sick, but nothing came.

Her eyes were still blurry, but she managed to catch sight of the big oaf Khajiit slumped in a chair beside the bed, a whittling knife and a piece of wood in her hands. She was fast asleep, snoring to herself.

"She's hardly left your side. Her or Itagaki, often both at the same time." That was the mage, Öenthir's voice from her other side. Tilly flopped back on to the bed, exhausted from that tiny movement. "She just sat there, carving things and Itagaki ... well, she hasn't spoken much."

Tilly tried to speak, but her throat was so dry that all that emerged was a weak croak that barely even managed to crawl from between her lips. Öenthir put down a book she was reading and picked up a plain mug, lifting Tilly's head and holding it to her lips.

How could water be painful to drink? It felt like little blades coursing down her throat, but it also felt like the tastiest water she'd ever drank. The mage didn't let her drink too much, only a little sip and then a little more, before putting the mug back on the table beside the bed.

"H ... how long?" Tilly managed to let out only the two words and that felt like an achievement.

"You were very ill. We thought we'd lost you." The mage didn't look at Tilly, trying to avoid her questioning gaze. "If the Saxhleel hadn't found us ... well, they did, so no point worrying."

"How long?" Her muscles felt like they were on fire. Pins and needles causing her great discomfort, but she managed to sit herself up.

"Two weeks." Öenthir brushed the front of her dress and then, finally looked at Tilly. "You were cut to ribbons. I managed to staunch the blood, but you caught some kind of infection. It was the Saxhleel who really saved your life."

"Two weeks." She stared around the room she was in, mumbling the words. It was a simple mud hut, that she could see. Bare walls and floor. Few furnishings, save for the bed, table, the two chairs and a closed chest at the foot of the bed. A doorway with only a reed curtain covering it, allowing sunlight to filter through causing slats of light to flicker on the walls. "Why didn't you just leave me? Go on to the tomb?"