Middas, the 1st of Sun's Height, Year 202 of the Fourth Era
Dear Segen,
I'm sitting in on a Destruction class at the College of Winterhold. Jarsha is here with me, trying to get a legitimate job in something he loves, not just thievery. I am proud of him. College seems to have paid off. Maybe, if I sit here long enough, watching these mages blast each other, we will both be smarter for it. Segen, I feel so helpless and stupid, not for myself, but for you, twenty-eight weeks old, in my womb. Have I doomed you for life? What will other people say, when they see a young mother and her child, still toting around an Amulet of Mara like a broken dream? What will they say to their children? What will their children say about you? Segen. If nothing else, please know from these letters that I never stopped loving your father, and that I never will. You are a child born out of true love and that is all that matters. Damn the fool who tells you otherwise. The twenty-ninth is Fiery Night for the children of the Alik'r Desert. When you are old enough, we can perhaps travel to my homeland and celebrate the festival there. No one will think or say anything when we are both well and strong.
All my love,
Mana