Consciousness flooded back into August's being in a strange way, as if she was being lowered into a bathtub full of it. As if she'd just became aware of her own existence, she opened her eyes tentatively to dissonance. Where was she? Where was her basement? Ypplejax? The machinery?

...what machinery?

August hefted herself up off of her sheepskin sleeping bag and pulled opened her tent flap, thankful that the fire she'd started was still burning away, banishing the biting cold from its vicinity. She urged her weak legs to carry her over, arms outstretched to the life-giving warmth of the crackling logs. She vaguely remembered some explosion of light and color... and then...

A dull ache prompted her to raise her arm to her hair, but she found, to some disappointment, that it was tucked away neatly inside a furry hood. It was quickly removed from her matching outfit and stashed away into her bag.

She looked up at the sky and found beauty in its bleakness. Why was she here again? Where was here?

The brain is a funny thing. Intolerant of ignorance, the brain has weird ways of dealing with gaps in observable knowledge. Somehow August knew she was alone here... and somehow she knew she was on the way to Helgen... Somehow she knew that she was on the last leg of her journey... As she connected the dots she was sure her memory was returning to her. Removing her damp boots to let the fire dry her feet, she sat herself down next to the fire and welcomed the warmth, allowing herself to explore the depths of her memory as her brain conjured up forgotten details from some unknown reality.

Images of a prison cell appeared... a flash of a statue of Mara.

Of course... the goddess of love. But why? August felt a cramp coming and adjusted her position, feeling the blood flow more freely down her limbs.

You wanted independence, didn't you?

There was nothing left for her there anyway.

Where?

Well, I came from...

August could have sworn she felt her head swell slightly. Clearly she'd somehow escaped some traumatic experience. Something painful enough that the mere act of calling for that piece of information caused her physical discomfort. She felt her body tense and she huddled closer to the fire.

It didn't matter.

She turned her head to the direction of Helgen.

We go forward.

August rose. The thought of moving on was like warm chocolate for her soul. It was a foreign feeling, and yet it she knew it was something that she'd always felt - it was what drove her to be here in the first place.





Purpose.