Act I, Part XV: Broken Pedestals

By Gandosa Arobar, Daughter of Miner Arobar

When Uncle Athyn told me the news about Nilas, I couldn’t believe it—I wouldn’t believe it—but it was true. Everything he said was true and I don’t know what to even say. I just—don’t have the words. I don’t think I’ve left his side since Uncle Athyn told me and I can’t stop looking at him and wondering if he’ll make it. The Healers tell me they’re doing everything they can, but I just don’t know if it’ll be enough—I mean—he’s just so—so—hurt. I can barely even recognize him underneath all the swelling and bruising, but, I have to hold out hope that he’s going to make it. He has to. He just has to. He’s always been a survivor, even when we were kids, he always managed to get right back up no matter how badly Father beat him, and now—to see him like this—it’s just—it’s hard. It’s really hard.

He’s mostly been sleeping and I’m glad for that. He needs his rest, but he’s started talking in his sleep and I’ve tried to follow it as much as I can, but it’s never a full conversation, just a few words here and there.

“No, no, not again…”

“Please, just stop…”

“I’m begging…”

But sometimes the words get louder and turn into screams as he jerks violently in his sleep like he’s trying to get away from something, but he just can’t. He’s trying so hard, but he can’t. No matter what Father did to him, he always just—took it. He didn’t try to run, he didn’t try to hide—he just always stood there and let Father beat him until he had cooled off and to see him—struggling—to get away—I just—I can’t imagine what happened at those Trials. I don’t even want to think about it but it’s all I can think about. I’ve never seen him like this, not once in his entire life has he been in crying in his sleep as he’s trying to get away from whatever nightmare he’s having even though he just can’t. He’s trying so, so hard, and it’s just not enough.

I shouldn’t have let him go.

I never should’ve let him go.

I knew it was a bad idea. I knew he’d get hurt, but I never imagined it’d be like this—I know Volene—she—she came back a lot like this, but—she didn’t go through everything Nilas did to prepare for this. Nilas trained with Uncle Athyn for years preparing for these Trials and everyone in the Watch has sparred with him at one time or another and even the Drillmaster always said that even if his form was a little sloppy, he was still going to make a “damn fine Redoran one day”. I just don’t know how this could’ve happened to him. He trained so hard and so long and—and—he comes back like this. Almalexia, why, why did this have to happen to him? He’s a good man—no—he’s a great man—and he’s here on this bed soaking in sweat and crying in his sleep. Why? Why him? Why couldn’t you protect him? Why couldn’t you watch out for him? Have I not lived up to your teachings? Have I failed you?

Please—just—tell me—tell me why you had to hurt him. Tell me why everyone I love has to—has to—break like this. It’s not fair! IT’S NOT FAIR! Volene wasn’t perfect and though my heart still grieves for her loss, I’ve made peace with it, but Nilas—he was innocent. He was so innocent. He didn’t do anything wrong. All he ever wanted was to make Father proud. It’s all he ever wanted. He just wanted to be loved and now—now he’s broken because of it and it’s not fair! It’s just not fair.

But—there is no fairness in the world, is there? If there was then Volene would be Redoran instead of caged up in the Sanitarium and Nilas would be standing before the Council with all of us watching him with smiles on our faces and the Union wouldn’t be facing taxation when the Council knows that most of them won’t be able to pay. I used to think there was. I used to think that everything would work out the way it was supposed to and the righteous would be rewarded and the wicked smote, but it seems there is no cosmic justice woven into the tapestry of Fate—only a world where none of it matters. But if that is the world we live in and the Tribunal can not be bothered to protect the innocent, like Volene, like Nilas, or even the Union, then I must accept that they aren’t worthy of my prayers and that the House that would abandon its people in their time of need is not worthy of my loyalty.

Lady Boethiah, I invoke your name and your spirit for guidance, for the institutions of my ancestors have failed not only me, but my people, and I will not stand idly by and watch them suffer any longer. They plea for aid from those who call themselves their protectors and they are brushed aside. The Tribunal speak of caring for the people, but what gods that are truly benevolent would allow someone like my dear brother to go through what he has? To suffer as he is? The Great Houses, the Tribunal, the Temple, all of them—they all speak of how they serve the people of Morrowind, but if they truly did, then there would be some semblance of justice in the world, but I see not one, so Boethiah, I ask again, will you give me guidance? Will you hear my pleas, unlike all the others, and help me do some small bit of good in this world by seeing to it that the Union at least can keep their homes? Grant me that one small mercy, Queen of Shadows, and I will give of myself unto you in this life and the next—I will serve you eternal—just show me the way so that I may spare my people at least this one bit of suffering, even if I should die to do so.

To those of you in the Council who denied the Union forbearance, I hope you know that you have made a mistake and you come to your senses. Too long have my people suffered because of men and women like you who haven’t the faintest of clues what it is they are forced to endure day-in, day-out, and there will come an end to their suffering and it will be you who decides how it comes. I pray peaceful protest is enough to convince you of the error of your ways, but if it is not, know that the Union will prevail in the end. You may kill us, one by one, but for everyone who falls fighting for their beliefs and for their rights, ten will take their place as my people see what it is we’re fighting for and while you have the strength of training and of arms on your side, we have an indomitable spirit that you will never break.

May Boethiah guide me and watch over our cause, for the time for action draws near.

-Gandosa Arobar, Revolutionary