The Aftermath: Entry #11

30th Morning Star, 4E 199

Drusus Varo, Overseer of the Ascadian Isles Expedition

I have calmed myself since my last entry, though not foolishly so. I sleep within Cirelmo’s ward as always. I rise to Vira’s 6 AM call as always. I record, label, preserve, and organize as always. I conduct searches (with the help of Ervis’s water breathing) as always. I hide my fear as always. But now I sleep with one eye open, my waking hours are sullied with apprehension, and every artifact I label might disappear one night. The irony that my biggest fear now is of the people who used to make me feel so secure—I’d laugh if I wasn’t scared shitless out of my mind. But like the cold and the ash, my fear is tolerable, provided I can keep a level head.

Now I realize that last night’s anxiety kept me from following up on my chat with Mehra, but now I can get that all onto paper and out of my head.

I didn’t believe in fate when I started this expedition, but now I can’t see what else possessed Mehra to lend me that book about Vvardenfell’s history. Without this meager knowledge of Nerevar (and his incarn Incarnate), the temple, the dissidents, etc. I would be pitifully lost in Mehra’s attempts to explain my dream sequence.

So according to Mehra, I lived my third dream as her mother, a d Dissident priest imprisoned in the Ministry of Truth. This “Amaya” was evidently the note’s recipient. A person who helped her escape. But also according to Mehra, that’s not a standard Dunmer name, not to mention the middle of “Holamayan,” leading us to conclude that Amaya is a code name. For whom we do not know.

Which is why finding a note addressed to that name, from Lideg, is just insane! I can’t believe I let that wood elf write those letters in the first place. I should have known something was dark there. But there are a lot of things I should have known. There’s also the possibility that the note is nothing but coincidence. At least that’s what I tried to convince myself, until Mehra mentioned this:

She found the letter in the hands of a Daedroth between the tents and the coast. Of course this Daedroth was dead, or I should say in the process of decaying from Mundus to the hellish waters of Oblivion. I remember reading up on this back in the Imperial City (one of the only scholarly subjects I know a thing about) . It’s an excruciating process that all Daedra fear. Even the Princes.

But that wasn’t the disturbing part. Mehra also mentioned it was a “winged twilight,” one of Azura’s lesser Daedra. “Did it look like a charcoal-colored Mer with purple scales and wings?” I asked, though I had already told her about my nightmare.

The conclusion is obvious, but that does not calm the horror it invokes: I was that winged twilight. And I was carrying a note from Lideg. And the note was to an “Amaya.” Something about a wedding… And a wedding present. The same night that strange sword went missing. There is no way in Oblivion that Lideg is not up to something. And there is no way in Oblivion that it isn’t something terrible. Terrible and terrifying. But we caught him.

As taxing as it will be, Mehra and I have agreed not to confront Lideg or any of the mages. We don’t want to risk chaos. I can feel the information soaking up at the bottom of my subconscious brain; I can feel the dreams waiting to happen. Mehra says these dreams were sent by Azura, and I have no reason to deny it at this point. All we need is a little more information before it all turns clear. In the meantime, we have also agreed not to discuss any of this unless we are sure the walls are devoid of ears and eyes. We will put our "masks" on and continue this cursed expedition.

I reviewed the beginning of this journal today. Love how in my third entry, I said I hoped to discover something interesting. Well, I’ll consider that hope fulfilled—though not in the way I would have preferred. I see hints of jealousy coming from Mehra. Which are justified. I would also be jealous if some Imperial idiot was aloud to experience my nation's history through the eyes of my own mother.

Look at that; I’m so caught up in this mess that I neglected to mention the search today. New canton. Completely dilapidated and full of Dreughs. We’re moving to the next one tomorrow. Not much else to say.

Previous entry: http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2dmjp4/the_aftermath_entry_10/

First entry: http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2cx8v6/the_aftermath_entry_1/

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