Chaos dropped a few cliffracer plumes and a coda flower into her mortar, and began grinding with the pestle. It was a very good bit of equipment. The best money could buy (or hands could steal, Chaos thought wryly). She ground them until they were a fine, dull blue powder. She took a handful of water from the stream beside her and drizzled it into the mortar, making a rather dry paste. Another handful, and it was a rather thick paste. Another, and it was a rather thin paste. Yet another, and it was a quite watery paste. She added handfuls of water until it was thin enough to drink easily, then poured it all into a flask and put it aside, hastily scrawling "levitate" on it.

She was in Seyda Neen. She sat in the very outskirts of town, on a little bridge headed to Gnaar Mok and Hla Oad that spanned the very end of a little inlet from the Inner Sea. She dipped the mortar and pestle into the stream her feet dangled in, rinsing them, and dried it off with the old shirt she'd been wearing that second night with Ileimo. It had been torn at some point while she was in Seyda Neen, and was useless as an actual shirt now. It was a bit of a shame. It had been her favorite shirt; now it was her favorite rag. She wasn't sure when it had been torn; she'd lost count of days. Simply too tired to continue with her lifestyle, she had gone to Seyda Neen and charmed someone into moving. Perhaps charmed wasn't the word. In any case, she had taken up residence in a nice little house. There used to be Thieves here, but there was no Boss protecting them, so most of them had gotten smart and gone down the road to Pelagiad. The ones who remained, well, let's just say they didn't remain anymore.

She'd intended to spend only a few days in Seyda Neen, sleeping and resting, lazing around and talking. Maybe she'd find a potion of swift swim and go swimming, slaughterfish be damned. Then, one day, she'd been sitting by the shore and idly grinding potion reagents up in her then-pathetic mortar and pestle when, before she knew it, she realized she'd made a Feather potion. And a damn good one too. She then had had a flash of, I could do this. I could make an honest, quiet living as a little unknown alchemist right here in Seyda Neen. She quickly discovered she had quite the natural affinity for alchemy, and for enchantment as well, once she started playing with a soultrap spell she'd learned awhile ago. There was a certain peace to be gained by going around and collecting the usable bits off mushrooms and plants, and even in casting the soultrap spell, striking down a creature, and collecting any usable parts of the animal that hadn't been spoiled by the enchantment on her weapon.

She ground up some more racer plumes and another coda flower, and drizzled a bit of water into it. She heard the sizzle and saw the curl of smoke that meant the potion had failed. She rinsed it out and tried again. This time it worked. She worked for hours at a time, nodding to the other residents of the village as they passed her, ignoring the occasional adventurer who passed through. She missed the looks of curiosity from the adventurers, and the looks of pity from the residents. She sifted through her potion regents, seeing if there were any more potions to make. There weren't. She went back to her house, slipped on her robe, and dropped the mortar and pestle and reagents into a basket, removing the potions and carrying them outside.

That was another thing. It was quite liberating to walk around without clothing. If adventurers thought her mad and locals found her eccentric, well, then adventurers thought her mad and locals found her eccentric. She didn't really care.

She took a silt strider to Balmora, then a guild guide to Caldera, ignoring the people who recognized her, or giving them only a slight, polite nod. She went to Ghorak Manor, not taking her time, and climbed the stairs towards Creeper. She sold him as many of her potions as 5000 gold could buy, then ambled about the town, went and trapped a few cliff racer souls, headed to Balmora for her more exotic reagents, anything to waste a day, then went back and repeated the process. She did this until the Creeper had all her potions. She returned to Seyda Neen as quickly as possible.

She was sitting where she always sat, wearing a purple skirt, the same she'd worn when she'd first met Ileimo, and making potions, as usual, when she heard a voice that had haunted her dreams for a long time.

"That's a lovely skirt. It really shows off your legs. What time do they open again?"

Chaos whipped around, and her vision was filled with sharp features, twisted into a sad smile.

"What are you doing here?"

Chaos expected him to speak from where he was. That would have been easier for her. Instead, he came and sat with her, and put his hands over hers.

"Chaos, you can't keep doing this. You can't keep running. You've got responsibilities. To yourself and to the Guild and to who knows what else? Aylana misses you." Ileimo tilted her chin up to look at him. "I miss you."

And then his lips were on hers and oh, she'd forgotten what this was like, she hadn't felt this in so long, a deep burn shooting down her spine, scorching her from lips to cunt to the tips of her toes. Her back arched involuntarily and his hands spread across her back, holding her close. It ended much too soon and left Chaos almost whimpering for the loss.

"Come with me."

He took her hand, gave her a moment to grab her potions and things and drop them in her little shack, then led her to a spot just beyond the lighthouse. He brought out a small locked chest. He set it in front of Chaos and pressed a simple lockpick into her hand. The lock wasn't hard, level 15 at the most. Chaos looked at Ileimo.

"I can open that by looking at it. Already that chest is open in my mind."

"Fine. Something more your size, then." He waved a hand. Level 85 with a rather complex trap on it. Chaos had to keep from smiling, and she was trying very hard to resist the temptation to pick the lock she knew she could so easily pick. Ileimo gave her a decent, but not amazing, probe.

"What, I don't even get a better lockpick?"

"Do you really need it?"

Chaos was silent.

"Go on."

That was all she needed. 15 seconds with the probe, and she jumped back to get out of the way of the trap. Ileimo hadn't counted on her getting the trap so quickly, and didn't move out of the way in time. She pointed vaguely and laughed. "Ahhhhhaha. Stupid bitch." Ileimo, paralyzed completely, would have glared if his eyes would agree to move. Just as he was beginning to think he'd be trapped in this ridiculous situation forever, the magic wore off and he was able to move. By that time, the chest was sitting open and Chaos was rummaging through it.

"There's not even anything good here. You couldn't even give me a soul gem?"

Of course, Chaos was ignoring the truth. Picking that lock had been easy. It felt…natural. Good. Right.

Ileimo put his hands over Chaos', stilling them. As if reading her mind, he said, "You know that felt good. Why are you fighting your responsibilities?"

Chaos ripped her hands away and turned so her back was mostly facing him. "I left you in charge. Everyone is still protected. I fulfilled my duty."

His hands rested gently on her arms, making it all the harder. "You know that's not what I meant."

Chaos swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. Her voice was choked and forced. "I don't have the strength."

"You do. You're the strongest person I know, tired or not."

"I'm making a living here."

"That's a cop-out and you know it. For one, you're not making a quarter the living you made as a thief. And two, you don't need to make any more of a living anyway. You've got enough money to last your life."

Chaos turned around to face Ileimo, a tear track still shining on her face. "I'm scared."

"I know. So am I."

"I don't want to go back. You can't make me."

"But you're already there in your mind, aren't you?"

After a pause, Chaos nodded.

"So you're coming home then?"

Another tear fell as Chaos spoke, her voice barely audible. "It's my duty."