Chapter 7

Finally, after a stretch of time that seemed quite inordinate, although she couldn't say with certainty, Lilaena gradually became aware of very faint lights and sounds, which at first seemed rather far away. Slowly, the nothingness began to give way to recognizable voices, and then architecture all around her and the novel smells of a place she'd never experienced before. "By the Gods, I've got her! She's here!" A female voice rang out. Lilaena's amber-green eyes met the grey gaze of a pale, pink complected stranger in a lavish robe. The woman was of a smaller stature than Lilaena, with rounded ears like those of the races of men. Probably a Breton, Lilaena deduced.

"Hello there," the unfamiliar woman greeted her with a broad grin in Tamriel's common tongue. She seemed oddly delighted to make Lilaena's acquaintance.

Lilaena was suddenly distracted by a pang of worry over what the journey might have done to her little secret. She stood speechless, trying to determine whether or not she still felt sufficiently nauseated and exhausted to allay her concern. As if in response, her mouth immediately started watering.

"Hello," she managed, swallowing hard a few times. No - that wasn't working. "I need …the toilet," she blurted out, feeling quite mortified.

"Oh dear, let me help you," the stranger offered, grabbing Lilaena's arms and guiding her towards the facilities. No matter how many times this happened, each episode was still just as hideous to Lilaena as the last. The woman led her to the toilet but thankfully allowed her to go in by herself and shut the door. She loathed having an audience. That despicable Galerion, what was his affliction? She was sure he'd gotten some sort of sadistic thrill out of watching her get sick. Everyone thought he was such a great mer, but in her eyes he was just as foul as the low-bred scum from which he'd originated, before he was so fortunately rescued by the order.

Lilaena exited the facilities to find the Breton waiting for her with the same, excited grin. She felt as though there might have been some thrilling secret betwixt them of which she was yet unaware. Was she supposed to know what all of the enthusiasm was about?

"So, welcome to Balmora!" the woman cooed, firmly guiding Lilaena to a section of the large building that housed several sets of bunk beds. At this point, a few other individuals had joined in the brigade, including a middle-aged male Dunmer with several earrings in his ears, a characteristically proper old Altmer lady, and a husky young Orcish girl. What was this silly cast of idiots?

"Thanks…" Lilaena replied with uncertainty.

"I'm so happy you're finally here," the Breton chirped.

"Yes, welcome, traveler," the Dunmer chimed in.

It was clear to Lilaena that there was something exciting surrounding her arrival here. The Breton motioned for her to sit down on one of the lower bunks and the motley group gathered round, gaping at her expectantly. She fervently hoped she wouldn't heave all over the lot of them.

"So," the Breton woman said, glancing at her companions and then back at Lilaena, "We are so happy you're here, finally. Are you feeling any better, I hope?"

"I'm alright," Lilaena replied, puzzled by and simultaneously loathing all of the attention she was getting.

"I'm not sure if you know; it was quite a task to get you here. I noticed your presence quite a while ago but I was unable to retrieve you until now."

So that was why it had seemed like such a wait in that terrible plane of nothingness. "Oh, it's quite alright. I was only just beginning to become worried when you found me," Lilaena explained.

"How long did it seem to you?" The Dunmer regarded her quizzically. "Because they've been trying to retrieve you for as long as I've been in the Guild. And from what I've heard, they've been aware of your presence out there for quite a while before that."

"Yes. At least a couple of centuries," the Altmer woman added. She looked old enough to know.

Lilaena suddenly felt very cold and lonely. A couple centuries? It had seemed like no more than several moments to her – drawn out, stressful moments, but just moments all the same. "It seemed to be just a few minutes to me… What year is it?" She asked, not sure she even wanted to know.

"It's the year 559 of the Second Era," the Dunmer male answered.

"Oh no," Lilaena whispered, shaking her head. "How is this possible?"

"Well, it was either intentional, or the Guild Guide who sent you was not very good at their trade. When did you leave?"

Lilaena turned back to the Breton woman. She felt disconnected from reality, and willed herself to wake up from this bizarre dream. "229... I left in 229. From Dusk. It was an elf, an Altmer named Estriel who sent me."

"Hmm… Never heard of her. The Guild didn't even exist until 230. She must have been practicing independently. I wonder what on Nirn she was trying to do." The Altmer mused.

"She was trying to make me disappear, I guess… I believe that's what she thought I wanted." Lilaena supposed. "And… you said 'the Guild'. They have that here, a guild for guides?"

The small group that had gathered around her murmured and chuckled. "Oh no, dear," the Altmer woman said with a sympathetic smile, "The Mages' Guild. You wouldn't know, of course. Galerion didn't even start the Guild until the year after you were lost."

Lilaena froze and stared at the woman, hair bristling on the back of her neck. Had she heard that correctly? Had she just mentioned Galerion? "Pardon me, but what did you just say?"

"Oh, forgive me. I'll explain, dear. Vanus Galerion, the famous mage, started the Guild back in 2E230. Really, you just missed it. Have you heard of Galerion? I don't know if he was so famous when you left. I believe he was probably still just a student of the Psijic Order back then."

Lilaena suppressed the urge to announce that she knew exactly who Galerion was, and that he was the very mer from whom she was trying to escape when she was lost in that void of nothingness for over three hundred years. She was also dying to ask if anyone had ever heard of Galerion's former friend and fellow student, the attractive and much-maligned Mannimarco, but she thought better of it, considering she was surrounded by members of a fraternity apparently founded by his arch rival.

How ironic that in her attempt to run from Vanus Galerion, she had wound up instead being rescued by his followers. She wanted to be disgusted, but they all seemed so decent and kind. She simply nodded, afraid that she'd say the wrong thing.

"So, you're from Dusk, eh?" the aging Altmer inquired.

"Yes," Lilaena lied. She hated lying, but she felt she had no choice.

"What's your name, elf?" the Orc spoke up at last.

"Amaire." A sensation of loss enveloped her. She wondered if she'd ever be able to tell people her real name. She needed to find out if Vanus was still alive. If so, depending on how famous and powerful he'd become, she might never be able to go by her real name again.

The group of mages cordially introduced themselves one by one: The Breton was Ameline; the Altmer, Sondarie; the Dunmer was Valen; and the Orc was Shulag. Lilaena politely smiled and acknowledged each guild member, thanking them for rescuing her. She was truly glad to be alive, and safe – for now – from any sort of persecution. The thoughts and questions about Mannimarco and now Galerion still nagged her, but for the moment, she decided, she had more pressing things to attend to, such as finding out exactly where she had wound up after all this time…