Chapter 8

"Forgive me, but did I actually make it to Morrowind?" Lilaena inquired following the round of introductions.

"Uh yeh, you're in Balmora, like Ameline said," the Orc retorted.

"She's from the Summerset Isles, Shulag – she doesn't know anything about this place," Sondarie the Altmer jumped in to defend her. "You're on Vaardenfel, dear. In one of the nicest towns on the island, I might add. You certainly chose a good place to come back to Nirn."

"I'm just dying to know, if you don't mind, of course - why did you leave? What were you running from?" Ameline questioned her politely.

Lilaena swiftly attempted to compose an effective lie. "My… husband was being hunted by these, uh …assassins," she told them as convincingly as she could. "He just got involved with some bad mer, that's all. He asked the guide to send me far away so they wouldn't find me."

"Well, she certainly took that request seriously," Valen chuckled. "I mean, I believe she went a bit far with it. But I'll wager they never find you, so it was quite effective."

Lilaena nodded in agreement, forcing a smile. Talking about the motive behind her escape only made her think of Mannimarco, and the reality that after more than three hundred years, her beloved mentor was most likely now a lonely little urn of ashes in a dark tomb somewhere. She immediately willed her mind away from the thought, before it made her cry.

The small group of guild members set about making sure Lilaena was comfortable and well fed. She was able to take a much-needed bath, and Sondarie brought her some clothing, since Lilaena's dress was quite out of fashion, along with a quality pair of netch-leather boots. Valen cooked up some local fare for her to eat, which she graciously thanked him for but could barely stomach. It looked like gigantic insect parts mixed with rice and a side of mushy, orange potatoes, all of which had a flavor that tasted something like ashy old fish. She pushed it around on the plate a little bit, and noticed with revulsion that even the motif on the dinnerware was that of a large, segmented insect. For a girl from the Summerset Isles, where there were always plenty of freshly caught fish and a wide variety of fruits and vegetables to be had, Morrowind's cuisine was definitely going to take some getting used to.

Lilaena managed to casually ask Ameline later on that evening if the esteemed founder of their guild was still alive. To Lilaena's chagrin, Ameline confirmed that as far as she knew, he was. Good Gods, that would make him well over 350 years old at this point. This gave her some hope that her lover was also still kicking.

"Oh, I see. He has lived for a long time, this Galerion. What does he do?" Lilaena inquired innocently.

"He still works with the Guild. And I think he's involved in fighting against some of the corruption and that sort of thing. We rarely see him here. The last time was several years ago, before I joined. One of the members was suspected of practicing necromancy and he came to help suss out who it was, I believe."

Then he hasn't changed much, Lilaena thought. She acted like she found this all quite interesting but really she was disappointed to hear he was not only alive, but was still in the habit of persecuting those he thought practiced necromancy. Damn. Certainly by now the obviously very powerful Galerion had managed to hunt down his old nemesis. She wanted to ask but at the same time, she was terrified of what the answer might be.

As grateful as she felt for the generosity the Mages' Guild had shown her, Lilaena couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that she needed to move on before she said too much, or otherwise revealed something that would lead them to discern the actual reason she left Dusk only to appear in Balmora centuries later.

Introducing herself as Amaire, she inquired about employment at the various establishments in town, and was hired on as a dishwasher in a small restaurant called The Grandmaster's Platter. The pay was meager and the work was awful for her, especially given her condition, which caused sensitivity to disgusting sights and smells. After a few weeks, however, she was able to leave the shelter of the Mages' Guild and rent a small room in the manor house of the Hlaalo family, local nobles who were, as luck would have it, not involved in the Mage's Guild in any way. She told the Hlaalos the same tale she'd invented for the guild members in order to explain away any mystery surrounding her presence.

The guild members seemed sad to see her go, even though she had tried to remain as distant from them as possible during her stay. She promised she would stop by occasionally to visit, knowing this would likely not be the case, but hoping it would serve to make her departure easier. She knew she would wind up encountering all of them sooner or later; the town was not that big. The other major issue was that as of yet, she hadn't told anyone of her secret. Soon, she'd not be able to hide it so easily. She decided she'd handle that problem when it arose instead of worrying about it now. Eventually, she would have to consult with a midwife or a healer to ascertain that everything was progressing normally. She wanted to get her bearings first, though, and make sure that whomever she sought out was reputable and just as importantly, not involved with or even remotely familiar with anyone from her past. She knew it was unlikely at this point, but after the guide from Dusk had so succinctly determined who had fathered her child, she was not about to take any chances that anyone else could sniff him out, or whatever it was that elf had done.

Lilaena developed a regular schedule in the days and weeks that followed, and tried to stay occupied. She had always been at ease with being alone; she'd craved it, even. She was surprised to find that now, she often thought fondly back to her childhood, growing up with her extended family, or even to her days at the Order, surrounded by like-minded students. At the time, she hadn't appreciated their presence, but suddenly she found herself missing it. Perhaps the change of heart was due to the fact that presently, none of them were available even if she wanted them to be. She was utterly alone; a situation she'd never experienced before. In her rented room, when she knew no one could hear her, she would talk to the small entity she carried. She told it stories, sung to it, and had extended one-sided discussions with it. It was her friend, her confidant, and her only companion. Eventually, it would answer back in little flitting movements she could feel and see if she stared intently enough at her belly. Its presence was beginning to become apparent. The hand-me-down dresses she'd acquired grew progressively tighter around her midsection. She disguised her changing figure under a flowing robe and carried on as normally as possible, trying not to give her condition away by moving or acting differently. Fortunately, for quite a bit longer than she'd have estimated, there wasn't much to see. Even as she approached the final few months, she could easily hide her belly under the robe, or excuse it as the result of having eaten a bit too much.