We returned with our things to camp after a brief farewell and many, many apologies to Natum for our swift departure. She told us to come back again more often. We agreed, though I doubt I will be able to. Alas, it would have been nice to have been there under better circumstances.
The plan that Avon and Qau-dar have settled on disgusts me. I cannot think on it. I do not wish to participate in it. It is too terrible to even think for a moment of my daelekil being made a slave. I do not know why Avon would agree to such a plan.
We have headed towards Iliath Temple to retrieve Avon’s caravan. I hope we can manage to move through as quickly as possible. I would love to spend time praying to Azura, but it is far too risky to have our band of mixed company in a place like that. And I have no great love for the head of the temple there, either. I do not wish to dwell on that unpleasant history, though.
I have applied Ervis’ traveling mask to my face. Each breath is a new torture, for the cloth smells like his body oils, it smells of his sweat, of his beard wax. I feel as though he is near me, watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake so he can drag me to my death alongside him. He wants me to join him. He beacons to me. He is calling me. Come, sweet brother, he keeps saying. His spirit might as well be haunting me.
I cannot write more. I do not want to think any further. I don’t want any of this. I can’t stand any of this! Azura, wake me up from this nightmare. Let this all be the work of Nocturnal. Let this all be her prying into my thoughts and dreams and let none of this be the reality I am stuck in.
Mephala, my lady, give me a sign that you still hear me. Give me a task and I shall perform it. Anything that will win your favor! I know I have made a terrible mistake, but please, let me feel your warm embrace once more. I am so cold and alone without your motherly touch. I will do whatever you wish just to feel your presence beside me. Please give me a sign. A word. A whisper.