I am cured!
And I should have been much sooner. I must give Qau-dar more credit. I tried to keep him from worry of my condition and yet that nearly cost me my life.
I was going to tell him my condition when he brought it up himself. He thought I had caught the illness that claimed the lives of so many in his home and was not going to bring me to town of it might spread the sickness. He seemed much relieved when I mentioned I only had need of a cure poison.
All along he had two! I could have been rid of this at any time. Ah, what I fool I have been.
He gave me the potion and then stroked my hair and hummed. When prompted he even sang me some of his people’s songs. It felt as though he was being intimate with me again, yet when I reached out and stroked his ear, a common sign of affection back home, he pulled back. When I made no move to continue, he continued his song.
I just can’t figure him out. Am I doing something wrong? Or does he truly have no interest? I can’t tell.
Or perhaps, as he asked of me, he thought I was still a child. The first time I thought it jest, but when he repeated the question again I realized that perhaps he could not gauge how many years I have. I assured him I was well past that point. Can you imagine someone getting married at ten years before coming of age? The council would never allow such power in the hands of one so young, far too much competition.
Nine years since I married that dreadful woman. I have now spent more time along the road than I have with her. What a relief!
Oh, and lest I forget to put this down and have it lost to my memory forever, Qau-dar persuaded me not to seek my revenge. He said it better to remain in disguise and disappeared for now. And yet, I had a turn of luck in my revenge. As dusk began to fall, a lone traveler, a Nord hunter, approached and asked to trade. Not wanting to appear out of the ordinary I glanced through what he had to offer. I chose salt and some roasted salmon. Then I showed him several things, including the copy of the song I had written. He seemed very interested in the song and when he asked from whence it came I told him, “This one traded for paper with pretty writing 5 days west of here”. The man was very excited and took the song, a cheese wedge, and had a drink of my Cyrodilic Brandy.
Thank you, Azura, for sending me a messenger to carry out my revenge. I have sent my own trail elsewhere and now can relax, happy in the knowledge that Zirik may yet be troubled by his actions.