While it is a bit of a stretch, I'd like to think that the Bretons are based loosely upon the actual Bretons who hail from Brittany, in France. I think that in High Rock, the culture would likely be similar to a French/Celt mix based upon where they're located in Tamriel. So, my decision to use the Brythonic language is rooted in that. So there.

Letting Go

It was time to say goodbye.

After all, Marieka assumed that this would be the last time she set foot in the city where she grew up. What was left for her now?

Nothing.

She sighed as she continued away from her home – the only home she'd ever truly known. Her pace quickened as she heard the slamming of a large wooden door from behind her. It was her father…of course it was.

He'd already discovered her note. She hoped it would have taken him longer.

"Marieka!" he bellowed. "Get back here!"

She ignored his call, maintaining her speed and refusing to turn to face him.

"Bah! You'll be back. You don't have a future outside of Wayrest."

His words almost made her stop in her tracks. She shook her head quickly.

No. He wants me to stop. Without me, he has nothing.

She thought she heard footsteps behind her, but when she turned to look, no one was there. It was her imagination. Or perhaps her wishful thinking that her father could possibly care enough to follow.

Thankful for the pleasant weather at least, she continued on. One step. Then another. And another. One foot in front of the other. Just keep going, Marieka. Keep going…

Her resolve was wavering.

What if her father was right? What if she didn't have a future outside of Wayrest? Should she just turn back before she got too far to come home?

Her steps led her to the side of the road where she found herself leaning against a large tree. She pulled at a clump of her hair in frustration as she stared at the dirt. When she looked up, she noticed where she was.

She took a deep breath and walked on.

The graveyard.

Her feet led her directly where she knew they would – her mother's headstone. It was situated closely to the graves of her grandparents. Her mother had no siblings. But they were close – the three of them. When her grandfather passed on, her grandmother retreated into herself. Or at least, that's what her mother told her. Marieka was far too young when her grandparents both passed.

Come to think of it, she was far too young when her mother passed…

She knelt on the ground next to where her mother was buried, purposefully picking up leaves and clearing away debris from the site.

"Mamm," she began as she brushed the short grasses under her fingers. "I can't stay here anymore. In Wayrest, I mean. Tad is…well, you know how we got along. It hasn't gotten any better since you…since you left us."

She leaned towards the grave to dust some dirt from the stone, moving into a seated position.

"I miss you, mamm. It's harder every day without you," she continued. "But I need to go. If you were still here, I'd bring you with me. I'm going to the College in Skyrim. Remember when I told you that it was what I wanted to do? I remember. I remember how you looked at tad when I told you, because you were afraid that he would have just trampled on my dreams. But he didn't say anything, and the sparkle in your eye mamm…that was enough to tell me that you wanted me to do it."

She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her breathing.

"And now, I'm going to do it. I'm going to Skyrim and I don't care how long it takes me. I'll make it to the College, mamm. You always told me that you knew I would do great things. That I'd become a stronger mage like you…and mamm-gohz and tad-kozh. And I hope one day that will be true."

She stood up, wiped the dirt and grass from her clothes.

"I can't be here to take care of tad any longer," she said. "I hope you understand."

She turned around and began to walk back towards the main road, but stopped for a moment and looked back.

For the first time in her life, she felt strong enough for the journey on her own. She felt ready to begin her life anew. If it was strength given to her from her mother, she didn't know…but it was time.

"Kenavo mamm," she whispered. "I'm letting you go now…"

Breton translations

Mamm – mother
Tad – father
Mamm-gohz – grandmother
Tad-kozh – grandfather
Kenavo - goodbye