With my new sight, I, who was akin to a gourmet for new experiences, laid my focus on every single detail in the room.

The rusted iron bars, a few lock picks on a table near the cell door, two bookshelves, both made out of wood, and both were aged. One was beneath the stone stairs which led to a platform holding my bed, while the other was just beside the table.

I closed my eyes, savouring the darkness within my eyelids. They were organic curtains that could move just based on my will, and to me, that was close to magic itself.

The darkness when I closed my eyes made me remember my semi-endless existence before my life, and always reminded me to be grateful for living.

I moved to my nose, inhaling a few bags of air. The air was moist, with an old scent of decay and death lingering within. I exhaled through my mouth, feeling warm air pass through my tongue, tasting a tiny sensory input of bitterness.

I focused on my ears, tuning in to drops of water from the misaligned stones, making puddles where they land. I could barely hear footsteps that were made with the lightest of material and worn by the lightest of man.

With a slight motion, I brought my newfound arms to my sight, laying them for my eyes to feast.

The first thing I noticed was my skin's tone was lighter than Nord's, but softer than a Snow Elf's. I had little muscles, as if I hadn't eaten in forever. I had just enough of them to make the barest of functions.

Yet, despite all this, despite my seemingly depressing start, I was truly ecstatic with how I am. After all, I am alive.

I repeat,

I. Am. Alive. Just repeating those words in my mind made me jumpy. Before I break any part of my newly given body and begging for a second chance from Mara, I better calm myself first.

Taking a few more deep breaths, I am back to a calm state, though I admit, a slight residue of happiness lingered, mostly on my lips and eyes.

I turned my attention towards what's below me.

The bed I was on was covered with dust and pebbles, some, if not all, had fallen from the ancient ceiling, I hypothesized. Though age-ridden, I could faintly feel the remnants of the bed's comfort, just barely.

I stood up, wobbling, and falling shortly after. Using a pair of frail legs was a first for me, as well as using legs. I looked more like an octopus trying to walk more than a Man learning to walk.

After a few minutes of self study, I managed to balance myself properly, thank Mara.

While descending the stairs and walking towards the table, I tried learning about myself and my insides. Of course I'm not talking about the organs and whatnot, Mara knows what she put inside me, I would do that later on with the right tools and abilities. Closing my eyes, I felt time slowing as I took a light plunge into my mind.

I saw a tiny, tiny pool of Magicka, or Mana, stagnant, unmoving at the centre of me. I would need to fix that, soon, if what Mara taught about the world was true.

Then, I delved deeper, beneath what could be seen by mortal's senses. With time growing to a crawl, I saw it, my soul, tied with a pure white thread.

Through Mara's compassion and grace, she had given me a thread leading to...somewhere, only Mara knows. Although it was just a faint thin line from my soul leading to somewhere, it was unbreakable and indestructible. Which could benefit me in some unknown ways, perhaps.

Emerging from my self exploration, I picked a lockpick on the table and twirled it around, but I dropped it a few times as my hands weren't as dexterous as I had thought.

A lockpick, though Mara was reluctant to give information regarding this branch of skills, she still did, seeing as I chose a rather unorthodox start.

At the iron door, I tried jamming it open, but as I had presumed, it was locked.

Crouching just eye level on the key hole, I inserted a lockpick and another lockpick just beside it. Going with Mara's hesitant guidance, I heard a clink, and the door was unlocked.

Thank Mara for that.