Gritting her teeth, Vanya mentally cursed, holding her breath to keep from screaming as Milore applied steady pressure to the bottom of her foot, flexing it upward. If her shin was numb, the underside of her calf more than made up for it by alternating between stabbing, burning, and cramping. Just when she thought something in her leg might just outright tear, Milore pulled back, the immediate relief causing Vanya to sag into the chaise with a huff. She laid there with her eyes closed, fantasizing about hacking off the offending appendage.

"And you still can't feel this big toe?" Milore asked.

"Are you touching it?" Vanya replied without looking.

"Well, I suppose I have my answer, then.

Vanya hummed noncommittally. Milore had ambushed her after breakfast with a routine of stretching exercises to- in the elder woman's words- 'keep the tissue from petrifying' which Vanya assumed meant trying to regain some flexibility and range of motion. She wasn't sure how effective that would be since she was positive there were some loose ends in there; veins, nerves and at least one tendon, robbed of their purpose just like the twisted muscle in which they resided. She just needed to get a big axe and lop it off. So easy. I wonder what kind of prosthetics there are here? She grinned slightly. Maybe I could get a peg leg.

After hearing some shuffling around she felt a tap on her cheek and peeked her eye open to see a cup in front of her face. By now, Vanya knew exactly what was in the contents of the cup and she had mixed feelings. On the one hand, the pain would alleviate, but on the other...

"I don't want to sleep," she muttered.

"Oh don't worry, this is a dilute. I need you awake."

Vanya took the cup and pushed up onto her elbow. She downed the liquid, noting a slight hint of Jazbay wine as Milore took the cup back. She sighed as she laid down again, the weight of her affliction lifting.

"Since you'll be feeling better for a while," Milore said, the legs of a chair scraping on the floor as she positioned it next to the chaise. "Sit up and help me crush some saltrice." Milore grabbed her legs and tried to pull them over to the waiting chair causing Vanya to squeak in protest- more from surprise than pain.

"Alright, alright, I'll sit up! Jeez!" She waved the elder woman away and propped her leg up onto the seat, scooting over to align herself and lean back against the wall. Vanya eyed Milore with barely concealed annoyance as she approached with a mortar and pestle.

"Of course, I don't blame you for it, dear, but I'm terribly behind with the events of the last few days." Vanya didn't have a chance to respond as the door swung open. "Oh, what now?" Milore groused as Sadesi ushered a whining Llero into the house by his remaining left arm.

"He's torn his bandages up again," Sadesi said helplessly, her messy black braid swinging over her shoulder as he thrashed about in her grasp. "I can't get him to stop, he just scratches like a mongrel."

Milore tutted, setting the mortar on the side table as she beckoned them over. His legs dragged as he tried to resist, finally going limp and Sadesi huffed as she scooped him up.

"Sun'jul, you have to leave it alone for it to get better," Milore admonished gently as Sadesi sat him on the edge of the chaise. Vanya shifted closer to the end to give them space.

"It's not just this," Sadesi said, trying to hold him still while Milore started unwrapping the loosened bandages around his chest. "He started complaining that his hand hurts this morning."

"His hand? What's wrong with his hand?" Milore grabbed it to look it over, not getting far as he yanked it away petulantly.

"Not that one, the one that is gone."

Milore gave Sadesi a curious look, the younger woman shrugging in response. Interesting. Did they not know about the effects of a phantom limb? Vanya held her tongue for now. It was not as if she had any clue what could be done for it.

"I can't really help that." Milore leaned down, looking Llero in the face. "It's gone, sun'jul, it can't hurt anymore." She made to continue with the bandages and he flinched.

"It does hurt!" he cried, pushing her hands away. "It does!"

"It hurts because you keep tearing at it!" Sadesi scolded, losing her patience and grasping his flailing hand, pushing it down. He twisted his arm trying to free himself, kicking his legs out and Sadesi kneeled in front of him to hold them still with her body. "Llero, if you don't stop this you won't be getting a sweetroll tonight."

Her threat managed to stop his fidgeting, though now he put all his energy into wailing as if- well, as if someone had gone and cut his arm off. As Vanya watched the fat tears roll over his cheeks, she found herself wishing she could join him. To cry out with abandon, just scream without a care for all to hear.

Sadesi, still kneeling in front of her son, was looking up at him with shadows under her dark red eyes, lip quivering, and as much as Vanya pitied Llero, at the moment she was feeling more for his mother. The woman was exhausted.

"Can I help?" Vanya asked, inching forward a little.

"You can try," Milore replied stiffly, finally peeling away the last of the bandages.

Sadesi looked at her as if she'd suddenly appeared in the room. "By Azura!" The dunmer pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. "Vanya, I'm so sorry to disturb you like this."

"It's alright," Vanya said, trying not to wince too much as leaned forward to lower her leg off the chair. "I get it, trust me." A jolt shot up from her leg to her lower back, making her take a steadying breath. The elixir was still working or that would have been much worse. Her intrusion had managed to stop Llero's howling, though he was still gulping air between whimpers as he watched her.

"Llero, give me your hand. I want to show you something." He looked at her outstretched hand with a pout, making no move one way or the other. Sadesi lifted his arm in Vanya's direction and she took him by the wrist gently. "Ohhhhh," she said dramatically before he could pull away. "Yes, they're all here." Vanya turned up his palm, flattening out his fingers. "Don't you see them?"

He sat up a little. "See what?"

Vanya paused for a moment...were there pigs on Nirn? Shit. "Um, all the scribs!"

His red eyes narrowed around their bright irises that had a nearly violet cast. "There's no scribs."

"Sure there are. Five of them. See?" She wiggled his thumb between her two fingers. "This little scrib went to the market..." She moved to the pointer. "This little scrib went home..." Her mind scrambled as she moved to his middle finger for a substitute for roast beef. She really hadn't thought this through. "This little scrib had horker..." Good enough. Next finger. "This little scrib had none...

She realized she didn't know the sound a scrib makes. Welp, too late now. "This little scrib..." She pinched his pinkie lightly. "Goes wee, wee, wee all the way home!" She ran her fingers up his arm lightning quick making him gasp in surprise, then break out into a squealing laugh as she tickled his armpit.

Sadesi sat back on her heels with a smile as Milore returned with clean bandages and ointment.

Llero turned toward Vanya a little, scooting closer. "Again!"

As Vanya prepared to begin once more, her eyes were drawn from his little splayed out fingers to his shoulder. Or rather what was left of it. She hadn't seen the wound undressed, her last memory of it being the nearly unrecognizable bloody mess in the Hirstaang. It was no wonder it itched, there had not even been enough skin left to close up fully leaving a gash of exposed muscle starting next to his clavicle and arcing toward his back. She swallowed, catching Milore's eye as the dunmer paused a moment with ointment on her fingers that were glowing faintly with healing magic.

Vanya smoothed her hand over Llero's gray palm then tugged at his thumb as Milore began applying the ointment.

"This little scrib went to the market..."


The house was silent once more, completely empty as everyone was going about their day. Vanya blinked slowly at the meek little flame of the candle on the nightstand. She'd discovered that laying on her stomach with a pillow under her shin was far more comfortable. The lack of pressure on the back of her leg coupled with the numbness of the front made it feel as if it were floating. She hugged the pillow tucked under her head, one hand brushing against the letter that Teldryn had left for her.

She'd read it so many times that she didn't need to pull it out and open it, but she did it anyway if only because she liked looking at it. What he'd written had been a relief, straight-forward and practical just like the precise strokes of his handwriting. She didn't know what else she should have expected, really.

Vanya,

Plans have changed. I will be gone longer than I anticipated.

The tails of his 'y's and 'g's were so short, as if he couldn't even be bothered to spend the time completing them. She smiled.

Should the next ship from Blacklight arrive before my return, I must inform you my mother will be aboard. I've left a letter in my nightstand for her. Give it to Modyn and he will pass it along.

With the way he stated it so simply, she felt a little silly for all her fretting over whether it meant anything that he hadn't told her of his mother's visit. Though now she was definitely fretting a little over the idea of possibly meeting her without him. But really, she'd have no reason to meet face to face with his mother until he returned. And he would return. He had to.

I'm going to finish something that has been started. Please, take care and worry not. I will explain all when I see you again.

Surely, he would make it back. Although the picture that Niyya had painted for her of the East Empire Trading Company was less than kind. And she knew they'd had a presence in Raven Rock once before. What exactly had been started? How did an arm of the Empire even reach them through Skyrim? Hadn't they lost the war? She didn't really understand how any of that worked but the whole situation caused a horrible feeling to fester in the pit of her stomach. Something that coiled and burned beyond the heartache she felt for those that had been killed traveling to Damphall, or for poor Dreyla who must be an absolute mess. From the sound of it, the whole wedding might be called off.

In a single day, everything had turned upside down. All the things that had seemed so sure were shifting under her feet all over again. And Teldryn's final words- no doubt meant as a comfort- only added to the restive agitation.

May Azura light your path.

Such a common phrase with many casual iterations, said often in passing with little consideration or gravity. Why did it strike her so heavily now, coming from him? She fought her drowsiness as her eyes traced each letter of his name at the bottom, praying, but not to Azura- and not for herself.