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11th of Last Seed, Turdas

So much can happen in so short a time. As always, I shall start in chronological order. I wouldn’t want to forget any part of all that has occurred.

Yesterday we finally crossed the border back into Skyrim. The cooler temperatures are a relief (I did not know I had grown so accustomed to the milder summers).

Yet the border crossing was a production. As in Cheydinhal, Qau-dar became rigid, tense, when we came to a stop by the border guards. I told him to sit and care for Ma’riani and leave the talking to me. Of course, there was talk of payment and official documents, and of proofs of purchases, and health certificates, and all the usual bureaucratic nonsense my people have taught the Nords they can use to keep out those who they do not want in their country. Ma’riani spent her time finding out how climbable a Nord can be and Qau-dar had to come and get her down while I negotiated with the others.

In the end it took a small bribe, five minutes of personal explanations with each guardsman in the guardhouse, and my Telvanni house seal to get us back across the border. Luckily for me, the guards know so little about Khajiit that I could simply explain away his cold symptoms as Khajiit behavior. I understand they don’t want the war spilling over into Skyrim, but this is ridiculous. I am a Pact citizen! Speaks-Too-Soon is a Pact citizen! And I think I pulled something in my wrist as a result of all those personal explanations. What a waste of time and energy, not to mention well earned coin.

In the positive, however, Qau-dar is continuing to look more and more himself. He is much as he was before. He has not seemed to have shook the fatigue yet and his appetite is still low. I attempt to remedy this as best I can. I hunted while the others made camp then I made stew of the plump rabbits I caught. I made sure that Qau-dar’s bowl had portions of curative and invigorating potions, as well as all of the thick gelatinous fat. It was slow cooked in spices I purchased in Cheydinhal, so the flavor should been good. The more we can get some weight on my Daelekil, the better. I refuse to sit by and let him waste away while I am around.

He clearly did not wish to eat, but felt he obligated by the work I put into it. I would feel guilt about using his feelings against him, but I don’t know how else to get substance into him unless I was to force-feed him. And I can only imagine how that might go. He did not finish his bowl, but he ate more than half. It is a good start in the right direction.

After we had finished the meal, Speaks-Too-Soon went to clean up the left overs. Qau-dar groomed Ma’riani and she kept insisting upon something, though I could not tell what she was saying.

Soon enough I understood. Qau-dar finished grooming her and began to tell the Khajiiti creation story, which he was kind enough to oblige me in telling in the common tongue. I was fascinated! I have heard several versions of the creation from the different races of Nirn, but never that of the Khajiit. I added to the telling by creating in flames the events of Qau-dar’s tale. I listened closely, but kept my eyes focused on the little Khajiit in front of me. She gets the most adorable look on her face when something catches her interest.

Yet I found myself equally transfixed by the story. I had no idea how important Mephala was to Khajiit. Nor of how important Azura was! I heard no mention of Boethiah by name, but still, that changes everything. Perhaps I do not have to be quite so secretive about my worship of the spinner. I had mentioned Azura alone before, because I knew that Khajiit worshipped the moons and stars, and she is generally considered the most tame of my gods. For men and mer to hear you worship Mephala, one is usually met with threats of violence and the waiting arms of a guard hauling you off to prison. Or worse.

To know that within our worship we both share two of the same gods, I feel even more closely tied to Qau-dar than before. Perhaps he too gives offerings. I am wondering, perhaps, if I should tell Qau-dar of Mephala? Of how she has spoken to me. Perhaps we could even share in our worship? We could show each other the traditions that we practice and both gain an even better understanding of her. And of Azura as well!

Qau-dar has thought my actions that ended him in prison before were malicious, but perhaps if he knows that I offered the life as a sacrifice to Mephala, he would be less cross. If I explain that it was a terrible man who I killed and that I was merely trying to help out the people of the town and appease my gods at the same time. If he knows of Mephala, surely he would understand!?

Yet the doubt still lingers. Too many threats I have seen or heard, fulfilled or not, to those who worship daedric gods. I cannot chance losing him over that.

Alas, I spent half the night pondering if it was the right time to confess the truth or not. He will likely still be angry that I caused him to be imprisoned. And how can I make it right? I had no way of knowing he was following me, that he was still in town, that he had been captured. It was not until nearly a month later that I heard anything. I spent the whole time worried sick about him. I never would have left him in that horrible place if I had known! Yet, how could I make him believe it?

And so I have not said anything. Perhaps I shall. Sometime soon. I am running out of time to speak to him.

I look forward to when this month is over. My powers are returning, but they are still so weak. I have to rely on my charisma and learned skills of persuasion to get what we need. Last Seed is the worst month of the year! The weather is bad. My powers are low. I will probably need to make some sacrifices to the tribunal soon. Nothing ever seems to go right for me this time of year.

We had a moment together on watch this morning, Qau-dar and I. I had so many thoughts in my mind, I hardly knew where to begin. I did not even know what I should say. I thought maybe I could explain the actions of my past, or perhaps to prepare him for my inevitable departure by speaking of what I have heard from Avon of my home. In the end I could not. When those pale blue eyes, as clear and bright as sapphires, met mine in the light of the growing dawn, my mind let go of all its worries. It felt as it had back when we traveled together so many months ago. As though everything bad that has passed between us had suddenly vanished. I was entranced.

I reached out and laid my hand upon his and told him how thankful I was that he was alright. That I was sorry that he had been imprisoned and I had left without knowing of his fate. That I did not ever wish to him come to any harm.

I had more to say, of course, but how could I find the right words? When they are lyrics, poetry, false, they spill from my lips like wine from an overfilling cup. When they matter, truly matter… I seem at a loss. I left mid-sentence, excusing myself to go and scout the area.

The three guide me and my companions as we head back to Whiterun. I fear we need it more now than ever.

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