This is Our Home: A Collection of Skyrim Short Stories

From the Ashes (Ylva)

6th of First Seed, 4E 195

"Tomorrow's First Planting," said Papa as we sat down for our evening family time. Mama and I had just finished cleaning up after dinner, and now we all sat around the fire, ready to unwind after a long day of tending our fields. Papa lit his pipe and took a deep breath in, blowing out a perfect smoke ring only seconds later.

Mama's knitting needles clacked together as she began working on yet another pair of socks. She had made Papa and me each three pairs already, and had insisted that we needed even more. She had said that if we were going to keep making tri-weekly treks to Windhelm and Kynesgrove, then we needed proper socks to keep our feet from blistering.

"What is First Planting again, Papa?" I asked, running my comb through my messy hair. I had forgotten to plait it when I got up that morning, and as a result, the wind had tangled it on my way into town and back. The struggles of having curly hair.

Papa blew another smoke ring before clearing his throat, a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, pup, First Planting is more than a day set aside for tending our crops. It's also a day where we, the people in Tamriel, set aside our past grievances and start anew. Like a plant budding after a harsh winter."

"So we're supposed to forgive our enemies?"

"We're always supposed to forgive our enemies, Ylva," said Mama, "but we are also to forgive any wrongdoing, no matter how severe, and no matter who has done the wrong."

Papa leaned forward in his chair. "Who's wronged you, Ylva?"

"The Shatter-Shield girls. They hate me."

Mama chuckled a little at my remark, and she set aside her knitting. "Dear, they don't hate you. They just don't understand what it's like to be you."

"Those girls have never known what it feels like to grow their own food," said Papa, then he added with a wink, "and they're probably jealous that we let you wear trousers."

I giggled and put my comb down. My hair was about as neat as it was going to get, outside of being washed. "Now I see. They're jealous."

"Exactly, pup. If anything, you should feel bad for those girls. They've always been handed whatever they wanted. They don't know the value of hard work, and they don't know how much pride comes from working with your hands, nurturing plants to fruition. And you know exactly what that's like." He pulled his amulet of Talos from underneath his tunic, letting it sit proudly on his chest. "Suppose it's time we pray and get ready for bed. Where's your amulet, pup?"

I pulled my own out, and so did Mama. As a family, we gathered around our shrine to Talos, and we bowed our heads. I clasped my amulet in one hand, and held Mama's hand in the other.

"Mighty Talos," said Papa in a low, reverential tone, "we praise you, even in these dark times. We thank you for your guiding hand, for your protection, and for your constant, unwavering care. We—"

A heavy fist pounded against our door, nearly shaking the walls. "Open up in the name of the Aldmeri Dominion!" said an authoritative voice from the other side.

We all jerked up. Mama held my hand tightly, fear in her eyes. "Tolvar, what do we do?" she whispered to Papa.

"Ylva, hide under your bed," said Papa, pointing towards my bed on the far side of the room. "Go, and no matter what you see or hear, don't come out."

Mama kissed my forehead, then let me go. I obeyed Papa and scurried under my bed, pressing myself against the wall as hard as I could.

Through the gap between my bed frame and the floor, I watched Papa stand up and walk to the door. He opened it, and several pairs of booted footsteps hurried inside.