Memoirs of Jae-Nil Xuza

• Posted by Jones Santiago July 27, 2013 - 261 views

  My life as an Argonian in Black March was forever tainted. Being trained by a White Ape from the east was a sin punishable by death. However, I was the son of the cheif. So instead, they banished me to the north to enter the cold and unrelenting snows of Skyrim.

  I remember my master told me that when one door closes, another opens and through that, death will never follow. My master has travelled for many years never staying in one place for the sake of opening countless doors and escaping death every time...

  He's dead now. It all started when the Chief found out that his son was being trained through foreign arts of combat. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was forced to watch in chains as my master was swarmed by my people. I feared his death would be too abrupt, but that was a mistake on my end. I forgot to never underestimate my master. I remember looking up and seeing my Argonian brothers and sisters stand confused at my master's fearlessness. In the face of the green scales around him, he sat on his mat meditating. Thinking. Feeling. Once one of my brothers started attacking, in an instant the scaled head had come off, landing right beside me. The army of Argonians moved back in shock as my master was still sitting. No one knew how he did it, but I did. His finesse and experience gave him the speed. A speed that my tribe lacks. A speed that comes from respecting ones' weapon...

  I cannot remember the whole battle, just snippets of it. My most vivid memory was being bathed in the blood of my brothers and sisters until the stream of blood stopped and not one Argonian was left standing. He came to me, unshackled me and took out his weapon. I was just as confused as my brothers and sisters. After training me for three years he would easily just end it? Of course not. I have underestimated my master yet again. He took his sword and gave it to me. He then took one of my fallen comrades weapons and said, "Do you remember when I stated that I would only die by my blade? And you took the same oath? I believe that you have finally surpassed me, and it is time for a true death. Let us see if you've learned to respect the blade."

  The battle took three days and he was right. I have surpassed him, even if age was crippling him. I finally took his blade and plunged it into his heart. The battle calmly stopped and he sat on his mat again, the blade still lodged in his body. He smiled and said, "Death be the one to take me, and my blade be my gate." He closed his eyes and breathed his last. I stood there. Staring.

  I stayed in his presence for three more days, fasting, and respecting what seemed to become a statue of my master meditating. Never did he once fall from the winds of the Black Marsh, never did he decay like my brothers and sisters. I cleared the area of the bodies and I created a small shrine for him. No daedra or divine will taint my master's name. He has become a god in my eyes, and I will take it to my grave. A grave that may be in the snowy mountains of Skyrim...