Chapter 24: The Madness Of Lord Mandas

Varvur’s hopes weren’t disappointed. When I talked to his father the next day, he told me that the priest Lloros Sarano had a mission for me, and that he’d like me to take Varvur along as well. The two of us set off for the Temple to find out what Lloros had in store for us.

Just as we were about to leave the manor, a young Bosmer woman of about Varvur’s age walked in through the door. She was stunningly beautiful, with a mass of long blond hair, and wearing a gown which I couldn’t have afforded if I’d saved up for a year. The moment Varvur saw her he coloured and mumbled a rather awkward greeting, which she returned, looking equally embarrassed. Hmm, I thought.

“So who’s Blondie?” I asked with a wink, once we were outside the door.

Varvur flushed even redder, avoiding my eyes. “Her name is Aeronwen. She’s another of the outlanders my father sponsors in the House.”

“She’s very pretty,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Yes, she is.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about this any more, so I let it go.

We walked over to the Temple, where Lloros Sarano briefed us on our next mission. It seemed that some Redoran soldiers had been sent to a derelict stronghold called Andasreth, where Lloros believed some bandits were hiding out, and hadn’t come back. Andasreth was a long way out west, near to Gnaar Mok (of course). It would take another day of walking to get there.

Though I didn’t mention it to Varvur, I couldn’t help noticing something a little strange about this mission. According to Lloros, four soldiers had left for Andasreth and failed to return… and he was sending two of us to chase them up. Either he had a whole lot of confidence in my abilities, or he just hadn’t thought this through very well.

Lloros had made it clear there was no time to lose in finding the missing Redorans, so we set out right away from the west gate of Ald’ruhn. Once again, Varvur didn’t seem very much inclined to talk. “Are you still thinking about your friend?” I asked at last.

He shrugged. “Not exactly. But we did once make a hunting expedition on this route, with some of the other Redorans my own age. It’s hard not to think about it whenever we walk down here.”

“You two must have been very close,” I said softly.

“We grew up together. We were more like brothers than friends.” He was silent for a few moments. “Bralen’s family were kin of the Venims. Venim didn’t care about him at all, but that was his excuse for arresting me after Bralen died. He called it ‘private justice’.” His knuckles were white.

“Venim didn’t treat you badly, did he?”

“No, but it was… humiliating. To be dragged to his manor and locked up… and then I found out he had sent assassins to kill my father while I was gone.” Varvur ground his teeth. “I only wish I had the strength to fight him. My father might, but I don’t.”

I hesitated. “Varvur, could I ask you a question? Why do Venim and your father hate each other so much?”

“My father doesn’t hate Venim,” he retorted. “Venim hates him because he sees him as a threat. If he were to challenge Bolvyn for the title of Archmaster, everyone else on the Council would support him.”

“So… no offence, but why doesn’t he? I mean, it seems pretty obvious to me that he’d make a better Archmaster…”

“I don’t know! He claims that it would damage the House, but in truth I think that he simply does not want to be Archmaster.” Varvur stopped walking. “If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Of course.”

“Very well: A few months ago, the other Councillors invited my father to a secret meeting at Garisa Llethri’s house. They asked him to challenge Venim, and told him that they would all support him as Archmaster.”

“So how do you about know this?”

“I heard about it from Garisa’s son Sanvyn. Anyway, my father refused outright. In fact, he was quite angry that they had planned this without consulting him.” He drew a deep breath. “But Venim found out, and he was furious. Just a few weeks after that, the Morag Tong attacks started.”

Good grief. If I’d known half of what was going on in House Redoran before I joined, I’d have run a mile. “How do you think Venim found out?” I asked.

Varvur laughed shortly. “That is no secret. Everyone knows that he and Llethri’s wife Fathasa are lovers.”

“Watch out there, Varvur,” I protested. “Your father made me challenge a Hlaalu noble to a duel for spreading that rumour.”

“Well, he should not have done! Let Venim send his own retainers if he wants to defend himself!” He turned sharply away and stomped off down the road, leaving me hurrying to catch up with him.

When we finally came within sight of Andasreth, I could see why the ancient Dunmer had chosen this place to build a stronghold. It was built on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by high mountains, and only reachable by walking straight down a bare, featureless valley. We were too far away to see anyone standing on the building itself, but I guessed that the bandits would probably have lookouts posted. Our only hope was to attack under cover of darkness.

Varvur and I retreated a little way and set up camp, where we ate and took it in turns to sleep while waiting for it to get dark. We finally set off for Andasreth at around midnight. When we got close to the building, I slipped on the Chameleon ring which Larrius Varro, the Fort Moonmoth champion, had given to me. The enchantment wasn’t strong enough to be much use in the day, but at night it worked perfectly.

I crept up the steps leading to the main building and pressed myself against the wall, listening carefully. I could hear footsteps up on the roof above, so I guessed that a guard was patrolling up there. As soon as I heard the footsteps recede in the other direction, I beckoned to Varvur, who hurried up to join me as quickly and quietly as possible.

Inside the stronghold, it soon became clear what had happened to the Redoran party that came before us. We were quickly set upon by several roughly-dressed men and women – some armed with swords or daggers, others with Destruction spells. Any hope I’d had of finding the soldiers alive quickly faded, and vanished completely when we uncovered four decomposing bodies in a locked room.

Varvur entered the room first, and rushed forward with a cry of dismay. The corpses, still clad in bonemold armour, seemed to have been dumped in here as food for the rats that scampered around the room. From the position of the bodies, and the horrified grimaces frozen on the dead men’s faces, it was clear that some of them had still been alive when they were thrown in here to bleed to death. Clearly these bandits weren’t in the habit of taking prisoners.

“They murdered them.” Varvur’s face was pale with rage. “They just threw them in here to die like… like animals.”

“I’m sorry, Varvur.” I laid a hand on his arm. He didn’t reply, but muttered something under his breath in Dunmeris that sounded like a prayer.

There was silence for a few moments. “What should we do with them?” I said at last.

“We must take their shields back to Lloros Sarano.” He knelt down beside one of the men and carefully lifted up his bonemold tower shield, which was engraved with a picture of an insect – the Redoran symbol.

“Just the shields?”

“They are the symbol of our House,” he explained. “Bringing back the shields will show that these men died honourably, in battle. Their families will come later to take away their bodies for burial.”

“So, shall we leave now?” I asked. “Or do you want to finish off the rest of these bastards first?” The look on his face was quite enough of an answer.

When the rest of the bandits had been killed, or knocked out and tied up – then dumped in the room with the dead Redorans – Varvur and I made to leave. Both of us were tired, but not tired enough to bed down in Andasreth with a bunch of rotting corpses. Unfortunately, even with my extra strength from my enchanted gauntlets, there was no way I could carry two of the Redoran banner shields as well as my own. An Almsivi Intervention spell would have taken me straight back to the Ald’ruhn Temple, but I’d used up most of my magicka on healing spells.

“I’ll just have to leave it here, I suppose,” I said eventually. I had to stifle a groan at the thought of being forced to walk out here yet again to collect the shield. Maybe I should just buy a house in bloody Gnaar Mok.

“Will your commanders be angry?”

“I don’t know.” Certainly I doubted they’d react well to me marching in and demanding a new shield because I’d lost the old one.

I carefully cleaned my shield before leaving it propped up against a wall, and we set off back to Ald’ruhn. It was slower going this time, since we were tired and weighted down by the shields, and by the time we got back the entire town was awake and bustling.

Lloros was sad to hear about the soldiers’ deaths, but grateful for the return of the shields. To my surprise, when Varvur told him about me having to leave my Legion shield behind, he offered to give me a banner shield of my own.

“Really?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. You are a Redoran and have served us well, so you should have a shield.” He smiled. “May it protect you well.”

After Varvur had gone home I held my new shield in my hands for a while, examining it. It was as strong as a Legion shield, and a bit lighter as well – not a bad trade, really. And of course, it was visible proof of my allegiance to House Redoran. Just as putting on my uniform for the first time had made me feel part of the Legion, having a Redoran shield helped me to feel that I really belonged in the House.

I spent most of the rest of the day in bed, catching up on sleep. The following morning I went over to Sarethi Manor to speak to Athyn. I told him that I’d have to leave Ald’ruhn on business in a few days, and asked if there was anything else he wanted me to do for him.

“I do have one more task for you,” he told me. “It concerns an old friend of mine, Arethan Mandas. Once he was a great noble of House Redoran, but his manor was destroyed by corprus monsters, and since then I fear he has gone mad. He now claims to be the Lord of West Gash, and is demanding ‘tribute’ from travellers on the road to Maar Gan.”

“Where can I find him?” I asked.

“In the cavern of Milk. Be warned: he has a few loyal followers, and some outlaws have joined his ‘estate’.” He took my map in order to mark the location of Milk. “But in any case, I would prefer that Arethan be cured of his madness, rather than killed. You might want to go to Ebonheart and speak with his father Llerar, who is the Redoran representative on the Grand Council.”

I wasn’t sure how anyone could be ‘cured’ of madness, unless it was caused by some sort of magic like those Sixth House statues. Still, the next day I set off for Ebonheart to see Llerar Mandas, using the Levitation spell from Vivec’s shrine to travel there. The priestess selling the Rising Force potions looked even more suspicious than before.

“I hope you would not think of abusing Lord Vivec’s blessing for your own gain, outlander,” she said pointedly. “For that would be blasphemy, and blasphemy is punishable by – ”

“Absolutely not,” I said hurriedly. “I like to pray to Lord Vivec whenever I have the chance, that’s all.” She narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. I decided to buy my Rising Force potions somewhere else from now on.

Llerar Mandas was a distinguished-looking elderly Dunmer, but he was dressed in the strangest suit of armour I’d ever seen. As far as I could tell, it seemed to be made out of pieces of metal from what looked like Dwemer machinery. You can get ‘Dwarven’ armour easily enough in Cyrodiil – assuming you’re fantastically rich, of course – but this was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Honestly, I couldn’t see how he could even walk in those enormous boots.

Llerar nodded sadly when I told him about his son attacking travellers. “Yes, I heard my son had gone mad. I fear his madness was caused when his daughter, Delyna, was captured.”

“Captured?”

He nodded again. “She is being held captive in Tel Fyr, the Telvanni tower of Sorcerer-Lord Divayth Fyr.”

“Divayth Fyr?” I exclaimed, with such horror that Llerar looked mildly surprised.

“Yes,” he said, with a sigh. “I am not sure how it happened, but if I know my granddaughter, I imagine she was spying on him. I do not want to lose another grandchild to the Telvanni.” Another? “Please bring her back to me.”

Oh, bloody hell. I could hardly have refused, but inside I wanted to scream. If there was one place in Morrowind I never, ever wanted to see again – apart from the Sixth House cavern of Ilunibi, of course – it was Divayth Fyr’s Telvanni tower. Of all the wizards’ towers in all Vvardenfell, why did Mandas’ daughter have to choose that one to get captured in?

At least this time I didn’t have to worry about flying, I thought, as I floated back over the ocean to Vivec’s Foreign Quarter. I could live without another humiliating scold from Fyr’s ‘daughters’, or whatever the hell they were. Suddenly a truly awful thought struck me – what if that mad old pervert had decided he wanted Delyna Mandas as a ‘wife’ as well? It was too horrible to think about.

The journey to Tel Fyr was much easier this time: I simply flew there from Wolverine Hall after teleporting to Sadrith Mora. Inside the tower, I was greeted by one of Fyr’s daughters – Beyte, if I remembered correctly. “Is your father in?” I asked. “I need to speak to him urgently.”

“He’s up in his study. I hope you’ve brought enough Levitation potions with you this time,” she called after me, as I hurried out of the room. I gritted my teeth and ignored her.

Fyr was sitting at his desk, looking exactly as he had when I last saw him – it was as if he hadn’t moved at all since then. “Hello, Ada,” he said cheerfully. “How are you doing? Bit of bad news, I’m afraid – the potion doesn’t seem to work on others. Tried it on two hopeless cases, and it killed them outright – deader than a garlic snail. But is there anything I can help you with?”

I had a little speech all prepared. “Master Fyr, I need to ask you for a great favour. It’s regarding a Redoran woman named Delyna Mandas.”

His face was completely blank. “Delyna Mandas? I don’t recall her name.”

“You… don’t?” Okay, this was unexpected. “I, er, was told that you were holding her prisoner.”

Fyr shrugged. “Many people try to steal from my tower or spy on me or enter the Corprusarium. I cannot be expected to keep track of them all. If you want to look for her, go right ahead.”

“You mean… you would agree to let her go?”

He nodded. “I will not interfere with your escape, but if she returns to my tower, I will not be held responsible.”

Talos, the guy was even crazier than I thought. How the heck could you capture a spy, lock her up, and then just forget about her? Well, at least it meant he probably hadn’t been torturing Delyna or using her as a test subject for his Corprus experiments. I just hoped someone had been remembering to feed her.

“Well, that’s very kind of you,” I said at last. “I’m sure her family will appreciate it. This wouldn’t happen to be a key to the dungeons, would it?” I asked, noticing a small key lying on the table beside him.

“Oh, I’m sure it unlocks something or other,” he said with a wink.

I took the key from the table and set off to look for the room where Delyna was held prisoner. It wasn’t difficult to find; there was only one door in the entire tower that looked remotely suitable. Unfortunately the key I’d taken from Divayth didn’t seem to fit in the lock. It was too hard to pick, and even my Ondusi’s Unhinging scrolls didn’t seemed to work.

Over in the next room, Beyte Fyr heard my exasperated grunts and came out to see what was going on. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get this door open, of course,” I growled, and then paused. “Er… your father said I could, by the way.”

She shrugged with complete indifference. “Would you happen to know where the key is?” I asked.

“No, I don’t,” she said with another shrug. “It’s probably somewhere in the Corprusarium.”

“The Corprusarium?”

“That’s where my father keeps most of his keys. He lets adventurers plunder the dungeon for treasure.”

I closed my eyes briefly. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to cast a spell to open this door, by any chance?”

“No.”

“Thought not.” I heaved a sigh. “Corprusarium it is, then.”

Down in the Corprusarium entrance, I prepared to search the dungeons by casting the Chameleon enchantment on my Amulet of Shadows. “Remember that you must not harm the inmates,” the warden called to me as I went by.

What followed was like a twisted kind of treasure hunt designed by an evil madman. I raced around the Corprusarium, avoiding the lumbering corprus monsters, and trying to find the chest which fitted Divayth’s key. Each of the chests in turn contained a different key, which opened another of the chests in the Corprusarium – including one at the bottom of a deep pool (why?!) If I hadn’t had the benefit of the levitation and Chameleon spells, I probably wouldn’t have made it out alive – or at least without being forced to kill some of the inmates.

Finally I found what seemed to be the final key. I emerged from the Corprusarium, dripping wet and on the verge of tears, and tried it on the golden door – only to find that it didn’t fit in the slightest. None of the others did either. I nearly howled in frustration.

“What’s the matter?” asked Beyte, hearing my strangled cry of rage.

“It doesn’t work!” I wailed. “I’ve tried all the keys, and none of them work!”

“Well, there are other chests within the tower itself,” she said calmly. “Perhaps you simply haven’t found the right key yet.”

It’s a good thing Fyr wasn’t there to hear the things I threatened to do to him (under my breath, of course) as I searched the tower for even more chests. At last I found one which could be opened by one of the Corprusarium keys. I tried the key from the new chest on the golden door, and finally, finally, it worked.

The door swung open to reveal a surprised-looking Dunmer woman in leather armour. “Delyna Mandas?” I asked wearily.

She nodded. “Who are you? Did my father send you?”

“Your grandfather, actually.” I sighed. “Next time you decide to spy on a Telvanni wizard, could you please try not to get caught? You wouldn’t believe what I’ve had to go through to get you out of here.”

“I can’t imagine,” she murmured, staring at my soaking-wet clothes and hair. I think she was picturing Divayth Fyr dunking me in a pond for his own amusement. I wouldn’t have put it past him, frankly.

As we left the tower together, I told Delyna about her father’s descent into madness. She looked grave. “I heard my father went mad with grief when I was captured, but I did not know how bad things were. I will see him as soon as I can.”

“Do you want me to take you back to Sadrith Mora?”

She shook her head. “I have duties that cannot be ignored. I will visit my father when I can. In the meantime, please take this locket to him.” She handed me a small engraved amulet from her pocket. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

I cast a Divine Intervention spell to get back to Wolverine Hall, leaving Delyna to finish off whatever business she had at Tel Fyr. I hoped to goodness she wouldn’t manage to get herself captured again. If she did, I thought, she’d better not expect me to get her out of there a second time.

I was far too tired to go looking for Arethan Mandas after all that, so I spent the rest of the day in Ald’ruhn before returning to Buckmoth for the night. The next day I set off again down that all-too-familiar route towards the west coast. According to my map, the cavern of Milk was just a little north-east of Drulene Falen’s hut.

Outside the cave entrance, I wondered what would be best: to walk straight in and try to talk Arethan’s guards into letting me see him, or sneak past them and hope that I’d find him alone. The first option was definitely more dangerous – for all I knew, the guards might attack me on sight. Athyn hadn’t forbidden me to kill them, but I didn’t want to do that unless I absolutely had to, even if they had been attacking travellers. I finally decided to rely on my Chameleon amulet.

No one spotted me as I ran through the caverns in search of Lord Mandas. Luckily it didn’t take me too long to find him, and he was alone. He was wearing a heavy suit of armour, and looked like he’d once been a powerful warrior, but I noticed that his face looked almost as worn and wrinkled as his father’s. I guess that’s what a complete nervous breakdown followed by months of living in a cave will do to you.

Mandas was pacing up and down in an agitated way, muttering to himself in Dunmeris. His speech was so confused that I could only make out a few words like ‘daughter’ and ‘tower’. I hid myself in an alcove until the spell wore off, and then stepped out to meet him.

“Lord Mandas?” I said softly, not wanting to alarm him. I didn’t know whether he might turn violent. “My name is Ada. Your daughter Delyna sent me here to visit you.”

Mandas slowly turned around to face me. His movements were hesitant, but there was a wild look in his eyes. “Daughter, my daughter, mine,” he said, looking directly at me. “Delyna Mandas. Saint Delyn, a man thus ain’t. Lock it, her locket. Keep it locked up. In her pocket. Who owns that locket?”

Sweet Mara. Athyn hadn’t been kidding when he told me that his friend had gone completely mad. “She’s all right, Lord Mandas,” I said, trying to sound calm and soothing. “I’ve seen her. She’s still alive.”

“Oh, my daughter,” he moaned. “My daughter, would you not listen? Delyna, daughter, so bold. So stupid. Bold and stupid spy…”

I kind of had to agree with him on that, but this wasn’t really the time to say so. “She’s fine,” I stated clearly, taking a step towards him. “Your daughter is safe. Look, she gave me her locket to show to you.” I took the locket from the pouch on my belt and held it out to him.

Arethan stared at my outstretched hands, his eyes fixed on the locket. “My daughter,” he whispered. “Where is she? Her locket... is it? Is she? No! Must know! Can’t bear to know!” His voice was starting to shake.

“She’s safe,” I repeated, looking straight into his eyes. “I rescued her from the tower. She asked me to bring her locket to you to show you that she’s safe.”

“Safe?” Arethan took a hesitant step towards me, and carefully lifted the amulet out of my hands. He cradled it in the palm of his hand for several seconds, staring at it.

“She’s... safe,” he said at last. “So safe. I must be there for her. I must…”

He looked up at me, and for the first time, the frenzied look was gone from his eyes. “Thank you, Ada. I will stop now.” He shook his head. “The attacks on the road. I knew it was wrong… but what could I do? My guards are loyal. Always looking out for me.”

He pottered off, presumably to tell the guards that they shouldn’t attack anyone else from now on. I hoped that extended to me as well. When he returned he was still clutching Delyna’s locket in his hand.

“Yes, my daughter is safe,” he said, nodding vigorously. “I can think in better categories now. Tell Athyn I will order no more attacks on the road out front my house.”

“I’ll tell him,” I promised.

“He should visit me.” Arethan glanced around the dark, dingy cave, and smiled. “The weather is very nice in here. Neither ash nor rain.”

I felt a painful lump in my throat, and had to blink back tears from my own eyes. Poor, poor guy. I hoped his daughter would soon be back to take care of him.

Arethan’s guards regarded me a little suspiciously as I walked back through the cave. None of them said or did anything, but I was still pretty happy to get out of there. As soon as I was back outside, I cast Almsivi Intervention to get back to Ald’ruhn.

Back in Sarethi Manor, I told Athyn the story behind Arethan’s madness, and how I’d managed to cure him of it (well, sort of). He listened to the entire story without saying a word, until I reached the end.

“From what you say, perhaps Arethan has not totally regained his senses, but his guards have stopped demanding tribute from travellers,” he said at last. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I did not believe it could be done. I am proud of you this day, Ada.”

I felt my face grew hot, and for a few moments I could hardly speak. “It is not usual for a new recruit to be promoted through the ranks so quickly,” he continued, “but I believe you have truly earned the title of House Brother. Congratulations, my friend.”

House Brother? Don’t get me wrong, I was immensely grateful – moved, even – but also a little confused. Shouldn’t that be ‘House Sister’? Well, under the circumstances, it seemed a bit petty to complain.

Before I left the manor, Athyn asked me to come to dinner that night with him and his family. A few weeks ago I’d have been happy about this because it showed I was gaining influence with him – influence which might help me get back to Cyrodiil. Now it made me happy for very different reasons. After a year in jail and two months of exile in a foreign land, where I literally didn’t know anyone at all, even something as simple as an invitation to dinner felt strangely heartwarming.

The only thing left to do now was to go to Llerar Mandas and tell him that his granddaughter and son were safe. The look of joy and relief in his eyes made all the trouble and inconvenience seem almost worth it, even that nightmarish scavenger-hunt through Divayth Fyr’s Corprusarium. After thanking me, he disappeared into a back room and returned carrying a closed ebony helm.

“Please take this helm from all the Mandas family,” he said, grasping my hand firmly. “Know that you have earned an ally in House Redoran.”

An ally on the Grand Council, eh? Well, that could be useful. As for the helm, I usually avoided ebony armour because of its sheer weight, but it certainly did offer excellent protection. Perhaps, if I ever managed to sell Sheogorath’s ring, I could use some of the cash to put a Feather enchantment on it.

Back in Ald’ruhn, I hired a room at the Ald Skar inn and spent the evening preparing for the dinner party. I wore my new clothes in honour of the occasion and spent a longer-than-usual time getting ready, carefully styling my hair and applying make-up. It wasn’t often I got to do this, after all.

Varvur looked mildly stunned when I showed up at Sarethi Manor in the elegant robes I’d bought in Vivec. “Ada!” he stammered. “You look very… nice.”

“So do you,” I replied, feeling myself blush. It was true, actually. Redoran fashions for men were rather plainer and simpler than the Western styles, but in Varvur’s case, it suited him.

Dinner was a cosy family affair, much nicer than my usual meals of bland food in grotty taverns and mess halls. Athyn and his wife chatted to me and asked me questions about my background, which I tried to answer without giving too much away. Varvur didn’t say very much, though I did catch him looking at me closely a couple of times.

The food was pretty good as well. “This is excellent,” I said to Athyn, as I munched my way through a slice of meat pie. “What is it?”

He smiled. “It’s a traditional Redoran recipe. Quite famous, in fact.”

“Really?” I hadn’t realised the Redorans were known for their cooking as well as their combat skills. “So what’s in it?”

“Hound and rat meat, mixed with kwama egg and scuttle.”

I nearly choked on a mouthful of pie. “Rat meat?”

“Yes. Have you never eaten rat before?” I shook my head, fighting a sudden urge to throw up. “The taste is not so good, but it is nutritious, and quite filling.”

“I… suppose so.” My appetite seemed to have disappeared all of a sudden. Varvur buried his face into a napkin, seemingly overcome by a heavy fit of coughing. I strongly suspected that he was trying not to laugh.

Somehow I forced myself to finish up the rest of my plate, and the next course (this time I had the sense not to ask what was in it). I washed it all down with several glasses of the local comberry wine, which was also excellent. In fact, it was so good that I ended up drinking a little too much.

“You know what I really miss about Cyrodiil?” I announced, as the servants were clearing our plates away. “Strawberries.”

“Strawberries?”

“Mmm, strawberries. They’re these little red berries, about this big.” I made a circle with my thumb and forefinger. “They’re expensive, of course, but they taste like the food of the Gods. I wonder if… no, you probably couldn’t import them. They’d go rotten.”

Varvur spoke up for almost the first time that evening. “What is it like, your homeland?”

“Cyrodiil? It’s beautiful,” I said dreamily. “Forests everywhere. There’s probably more trees in the Great Forest than in the whole of Vvardenfell. I miss trees.” I felt a dull ache in my throat.

“Up in the north there are mountains,” I went on, “and it snows almost all year round. And out west, on the Gold Coast, you can walk through these endless fields with miles and miles of… golden…” My voice trailed off as hot tears began to roll down my cheeks.

The Sarethis exchanged worried glances. Domesea was looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and bemusement. “If you love it so much, sera, why don’t you return there?”

“Because I can’t,” I wailed. Now that I’d started crying, I couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m sorry. I… I think I’d better be going.”

Athyn immediately invited me to stay the night in one of the guest rooms, but I didn’t want to trespass on his hospitality any longer. Besides, I’d already paid for a room at the inn. Varvur came over all gentlemanly and offered to walk me back there, but I refused – the last thing I wanted right now was people fussing over me. I mumbled my thanks for the lovely meal and hurried back to the Ald Skar, where I cried myself to sleep.

A/N: Thanks to Forest Stalker/Lady MorningStar for the loan of her character Aeronwen (just a little cameo appearance there...)