The Elder Scrolls: Escape - Chapter 3.2 ~ Freedom

Do'amha awoke to birds whistling in the morning light. The fire that had kept them warm all night long was now a pile of smoldering embers. With a grunt, he sat up and looked around, blinking away his bleary vision.

Vajrasha sat by the fire pit, her cloak pulled around her protectively as she mended her shirt once again. The stitches that Do’amha was sure that Vajrasha had already stitched were frayed and broken. The torn clothing was barely more than rags anymore, but she still tried to mend them.

The way that she focused completely and totally on the stitching was enough to make him worry. Her eyes were dulled as she continued to draw the thread through the fabric.

No warm greeting.

No somber smile.

Only the steady drawing of the thread through the torn tunic.

Do’amha glanced around. Looking for their dark skinned heroine and spied her by the river filling her canteen. Capping the one in her hand she reached down with a second and began filling that one as well.

Getting to his feet, Do’amha moved over beside Karliah and took the last canteen and began filling it.

“How long has she been awake?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“About three hours,” Karliah replied with the same worried tone. “She said that she needed to go relieve herself. When she came back, she pulled off her breeches first and started stitching them. She finished with them about an hour ago. She’s been working on that tunic since then.”

Do’amha nodded. He placed the cap on the canteen and sighed. She was probably fussing in her sleep and the stitches came undone. They weren’t exactly given good clothing to wear. Little more than burlap sacks if he was honest with himself.

“Would you try offering her the clothes?” Karliah asked gently. “She doesn’t really talk to me. When she saw you was the most I’ve heard her speak.”

He nodded as he passed her the filled canteen. Picking up the folded clothes by the fire he looked to Vajrasha.

“Would you not prefer to wear these?” he asked gently. “There would be no need to spend your time mending if you did.”

Vajrasha didn’t acknowledge him. She continued to draw the thread through the fabric without even a pause in her pace.

Do’amha reached forward with his free hand and placed it gently on her shoulder. He intended to comfort her and draw her back from her oblivious state.

But she jumped away from him, like she had been burned by the touch. She clutched the needle as if intending to use it as a knife against him and her breathing was suddenly ragged and panicked. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes seemingly lost in some memory.

Do’amha stared at her in shock for a moment, his hand outstretched to her. But he slowly lowered it and set the clothes down. He looked at her with a sad and pain-filled gaze. She had gone through so much. Even his attempts to comfort her only brought pain now.

“We should get going,” Karliah said walking to the small camp. “You really did a number on Omeloren’s plantation. He won’t be sending anyone after us for some time, but I would like to put as much distance as I can between us and him.”

Vajrasha fell back into her ritual of slowly drawing the thread through the burlap fabric and closing the tear bit by bit.

“Yeah,” Do’amha said as he stood up, handing the clothing back to Karliah. “The sooner we leave, the better off we will be.”

They quickly buried the ashes of their fire before continuing to follow the river downstream.

The morning light filtered through the canopy of leaves, painting the world in green hues. The trio continued their march along the riverbank with no words between them. Only the sounds of the birds calling shattered the deafening silence as the sun made its path across the heavens.

Do'amha would periodically look back over his shoulder as if to ensure that they weren't being followed. But his eyes would always linger on Vajrasha's emotionless face. Something was bugging him and he couldn't put it out of his mind that she was hiding something. The smooth waters of the river seemed eerily calm to the storm of distress whirling inside of Do’amha. His tail flicked back and forth in an agitated manner as he walked. His brow knit together in a contemplative expression.

“What is it?” Karliah asked. She had been watching him for some time. Reading his mannerisms to discern what he was thinking.

Do’amha looked to her, seemingly startled. He gave a glance back to Vajrasha, who was walking behind them with shuffling steps, before shaking his head.

“Don’t worry,” Karliah said with a smile. “We’ll get you two back to your family.”

“Vajrasha does not have any family,” Vajrasha said suddenly. Her voice sounded hollow and empty. Not the warm friendly voice that Do’amha remembered in the slave pits.

“You have your brother here. He’s family.”

“Vajrasha and I are not related by blood or bond,” Do’amha explained as he held up a branch for the others to pass under. “Her family was killed a few years ago and she was taken as a slave by the knife-ears.”

“Then why do you call her sister?” Karliah asked. Even in confusion her voice was soft and gentle, like a summer breeze.

“Omeloren gave her to me as a prize,” Do’amha explained. “I had no desire to sire children in that place and so I never took her into my bed. When I found out that she had a spell to heal, I made a deal with her. She would heal me after every fight, and I would not send her away. I would care for her, but I would not bed her.”

Vajrasha would flinch with each mention of bedding, like the word itself were a barb piercing into her. Her ears laying flat against her head.

“She asked if that meant I would look after her like a brother. After that, it just sort of became habit to call her sister.”

“That’s nice. You became the family she lost,” Karliah said with a smile. Her amethyst eyes shone with a sort of admiration.

“I guess that is a way of saying it,” Do’amha responded.

“What about you though?” Karliah asked. “Do you have any family waiting for you back home?”

Do’amha fell silent. He looked down at the earth in front of him, before his brow furrowed in frustration. With a huff, he hastened his steps and put a few feet between them.

“Was it something I said?” Karliah asked.

“Do’amha does not know where home is,” Vajrasha answered quietly.

Karliah jumped a little at the black furred Khajiit suddenly speaking.

“What do you mean?”

“Do’amha cannot remember anything before he woke up in the slave pits five years ago,” Vajrasha explained. “He does not know who he is or where he comes from. Not a particular place at least. Being Khajiit, he knows that he is from the Elswyer, but not where he was born or who his parents are.”

“I can’t imagine not knowing who I was,” Karliah mentioned in awe.

“Vajrasha thinks it might be better if all of us didn’t know.” She looked down with a sad expression and sighed. “He dreams sometimes. Though he can never really see what he is dreaming. Just the voices and the hazy images in his mind.”

Karliah nods as she looks to Do’amha’s back. A small expression of remorse passed over her features as they continued. Her amethyst eyes focused and calculating. Running through some scenario in her mind and worried about the outcome.

Resolution finally took hold as she looked up to Do’amha once again. Her mind set on whatever outcome she had played out in her mind.

But for now she remained silent.

Her eyes were locked on the way that Do'amha was walking. The way that his tail snapped back and forth like a whip and his shoulders hunched up.

He was angry, frustrated that he couldn't remember.

What now? he thought to himself. I have my freedom...but what do I do with it? Where do I go? His stomach felt like it was tied in knots. Neither of them had anywhere to go. No family. No home. There was something there in the back of his mind, but he could never recall it. The memory was as elusive as trying to catch smoke with his hands. His frustration slowly built and it showed in the way that walked. Hunching forward a little as his feet started to stomp harder into the earth.

Why can't I remember?!

Karliah quickened her step and placed her slender hand on his shoulder, easing him to a stop.

"Do'amha," she said with a quiet tone. "I'm sorry that I upset you."

"It was not you," Do'amha growled. "Not knowing who I am...It just drives me insane sometimes. I know that the memories are there, but I cannot reach them."

"I'm not going to pretend to know how you feel. But I can promise that I will do what I can to help you find out who you are."

Do'amha turned to her. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Why?" Vajrasha asked, finally making it to the group. "Why would you do that after everything you've done so far?"

"I have my reasons," Karliah responded.

"What reasons?" Do'amha growled.

"It's not your concern," she said back with just as much confidence as ever. Her amethyst eyes almost dared Do'amha to do something. A coy light dancing in her eyes.

Do'amha sighed as he realized that he couldn't intimidate her into telling him.

"Let's keep moving. I don't know how much of a window we have before Omeloren sends his goons after us," Karliah stated as she took the lead. Her boots making no sound on the riverbank.

Do'amha and Vajrasha stood there a moment. Their eyes scutinizing Karliah's back.

"She is hiding something from us," Do'amha growled.

"This one knows," Vajrasha said patting his arm. "But Vajrasha thinks that she is trying to help us. We should trust her." Vajrasha began following Karliah's footsteps. Her head downcast once more and staying silent.

"Easy for you to say," Do'amha muttered. His hands clenched and released repeatedly as his instincts were going haywire.

Something wasn't right.

Do’amha gave out a sigh as he fell in line behind Vajrasha.

She was right of course. The only option they had was to trust Karliah in all this. No matter how much he didn't like it.