Of Milkwort and Musings: The Journal of Ms. Estre Ohtarona

The Eighteenth of Midyear; Moons: Last Quarter; Mood: [there seems to be black scribbles rather than a descriptive word.]

Running low or am out of the following ...

- Toad Flax [as in the name, if a toad is residing near, it is at it's highest potency.]
- Sweetbrier
- Fleabane [gather more than needed, with the wet climate one can expect all insect life, big or small, to escalate.]
- Hare's Beard
- Ring-O-Bells [the deep blue, like the summer skies in auridon. be wary of anything lighter as it is not yet ripe.]

Patient Notes

- Make more of the goose grease salve for Widow Minna's sore joints. While the swelling has gone down, she has found herself to be as "spry as a fiddler's wench" and able to stand for prolonged periods of time.
- Helped set a young Bosmer's arm whom had fallen from a tree. It should be noted his parents seemed more upset that he managed to fall from a tree than the fracture.
- Was approached about helping to deliver an infant, remember to get back to the expecting mother and insist on a lack of experience as not to set expectations high. Perhaps I can find the name of a midwife for her. Last name began with Moon, I believe.

Personal Tidbits

This day was not as how I originally thought it to be, events didn't quite play out as planned. I've found myself in a mire of self-pity, though do I really have a right to wallow? When all is said and done, he was right about one thing. I'm pushy. I never saw it as anything to be ashamed of, more so that tied in with my love of helping others.

Thinking about it anymore makes my chest ache. My age, I do believe, makes me more prone to this romantic nonsense.

Unacceptable.

The remedy for such a dark mood, as prescribed by myself, is a hot bath scented with dried lavender buds and one of those dreadfully delicious blackberry pastries.

I have far too many, after all.

Leaving on a lighter note, a teenaged Bosmer by the name of Cirlin gave me a hug in return for a piece of equipment for her practical jokes. It was nice. As someone in my profession, I am used to giving the occasional comforting touch if a patient is having a hard enough time. Rarely, is it the other way around.

The Nineteenth of Midyear; Moons: Waning Crescent; Mood: Bleh

Running low or am out of the following ...

- Bleeding heart [If it's not oozing red ruby droplets, don't bother]
- Owl pellets [for personal research, I still aim to reconstruct a rat's skeleton like some sort of macabre jigsaw puzzle.]

Patient Notes

- Not so much something I need to remember for future reference but rather an event I found rather endearing. After tending to Widow Minna, I felt a tug at my skirt only to see her granddaughter staring up at me with what I do believe was her most serious expression. Holding a well-loved rag doll, the serious, young girl informed to me that 'Rose' wasn't feeling well. Well, seeing that Rose's left arm was ripped clean off I believed it, I daresay the same would make anyone feel under the weather. That being said, I miraculously brought her dear doll to perfect health with a bit of thread and a sewing needle. The poor girl looked terrified but I assured her that her dear Rose wouldn't feel a thing. It was nice, she offered me a grubby handful of mystery meat jerky in return but I told her she ought to feed it to Rose to keep up her health. Thus ended my silly escapade.

Personal Tidbits

Couldn't sleep, I write this in candlelight as I've decided to sleep with Thistle in his stall tonight. There's something about the scent let alone the touch of an animal that is all too soothing to the mind. He seemed annoyed I woke him up from his beauty sleep but a nub of carrot and rub to the side of his neck permitted me to snuggle close. How very kind, I only feed and give him shelter, after all.

Not that I should complain, he's one of few I can truly depend on. Even if he can be a bit slow at times. And is an Elk. Details, details.

My magicka is starting to eat at my markings, it always begins towards the end of the month. First the flakiness of the marks, then the inability to keep control of my magicka as it fluctuates, and so on and so forth. I don't like to think of the end bit, it's too grim for my taste. For now, I sleep. Good night.

The Twenty-First of Midyear; Moons: Waning Crescent; Mood: [There is a drawing of a pie]

Running low or am out of the following ...

- Blackberries [Blame Seriduril, he eats them more than the finches, larks, crows, and doves do combined!]
- Lemon Myrtle
- Evergreen Berries [As there is no snow for them to grow underneath, consider buying them dry even if they might be less potent.]

Patient Notes

- Annor, the youth whom had previously 'pranked' both myself and Seriduril, was attacked by a werewolf. I found the young mer drinking at the tavern in-between coughing up blood into a rag. Another healer offered to assist, however he insisted on myself for whatever reason. I instructed for him to undress his top half to which he was reluctant. However, that being said, I was very firm in telling him that I could not do any good with him in his hunting gear. Once the squabbling was aside, I noted he had scratch marks but none so deep that they tore through the muscle. I told him for his safety and those in Vulkswasten, I'd have to alert someone of authority to which he seemed to understand. I ended up healing three broken ribs and instructed for him to wear loose fitting shirts until my magicka had enough time to mend as the bones are still fragile.
- Was once more approached about delivering a baby. Truly Mara has blessed those in the area as many couples are with child. I am uncertain of my skill, I've only ever helped my Aunt with such matters and even so she often bustled me out of the way to fetch this and that. Either I need more confidence, or spend my time in a pen with the pregnant cows.

Personal Tidbits

This has been a most interesting few days.

I arrived in town yesterday to find a festival of sorts happening. Immediately, I wanted to run as many of the merchants were calling upon those in the crowd. I did, however, manage to keep my wits about me long enough to introduce myself to another guard. His name is Thelin, but he goes by Theo for short. I forgot how we came upon the subject but he informed me that he thought he was "mediocre" in his appearance. Apparently this struck a chord as I promptly gave a speech on positive self image. He seemed startled, I hope I didn't scare him away.

My anxiety getting the best of me, I slinked off to take my usual spot atop the ramp and watch the festivities below. Of course, whom should be in my seat but Sir Gruntsalot. Admittedly, things were awkward at first but we did end up speaking with one another. I won't go into details as the more I think of what he said, the more it confuses me. Later, I told him about Annor and he asked me to make four potions to reverse the effects of a Werewolf's bite / scratch. We started talking once more and as he does, when a subject comes up he does not enjoy he tries to walk off. I was having none of it.

So I sat down on the leather hatch that separates the clinic from the other floors and stared at him.

Alright, so /maybe/ that didn't quite go as I planned but some things were settled, I do believe. Only time will tell.

The Twenty-Second of Midyear; Moons: Waning Crescent; Mood: Exhausted

Running out or am out of the following ...

- My mind [That is a jest, my mind is still quick attached to my brain which in turn is attached to my head and so on and so forth.]
- Clean linen for bandages
- Red wine [For me, not my patients.]

Patient Notes

- Too many.

Personal Tidbits

The Daedra attacked the town once again, unsurprisingly, there were casualties as one cannot cure death. Well, not ethically. I spent most of the day helping where I could. I swear, when I felt one patient was stabilized there were two more to tend to. It was madness, utter chaos, the perfect environment for these creatures to thrive.

Alijham was tending to Kashya whom I'm told is in charge of the guards. The captain, I suppose one would call it. I commend his patience, while I'm certain she has redeeming qualities, she seemed to be an impossible patient on observation alone.

I kept expecting to find Seriduril on a cot awaiting medical attention. The very thought makes my stomach drop. [There seems to be a pause in the writing before it is continued.] But when he walked through the door, I nearly tripped over myself making certain he wasn't in need of healing. Stupid, stupid, stupid-- He can take care of himself. Speaking of stupid, there was a need to hug and comfort the grunting mass of mer. I'm glad I stopped myself, as difficult as it was.

The rest of the evening was nice, as nice as it could be given recent events. Between a shared bottle of wine and crying my eyes out, I'm quite ready for bed. As I said to him, we can only go forward as a community from here.

The Twenty-Four of Midyear; Moons: New Moons; Mood: [The space is left blank]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Lavender [The Breton variety holds it's fragrance the best even dried.]

Patient Notes

As there was a siege upon the town, once more are there to many injuries to make note of. However I'd like to take the time to focus on a particular mer under my care.

- He had the most grievous injuries, second and third degree burns covering most of body with internal damage as well. I couldn't heal such extensive wounds. Could anyone? Would he had survived if he wasn't in my care? A hole went straight through his shoulder, I managed to clean and close it. Not that it mattered, not in the end. I was told his name was Tarethis and others seemed genuinely upset about his untimely departure from our plane of existence. Tarethis had a family, likes and dislikes, perhaps even a lover and it was myself that stood between him and death. I couldn't save him, I couldn't bring him back.

His injuries weren't my fault, of course, but it upsets me to know he passed under my care. I've had others pass before, but generally it's because of a prolonged illness and I'm sent to make them as comfortable as I possibly can. At that, they're wrinkled and bent over with a fading memory and many grandchildren. Tarethis had none of that, he was young, for a Dunmer at least. Did I fail? Is he cursing me wherever he is? Most importantly, why is this getting to me so much?

Because I feel like I could have prevented it.

Personal Tidbits

I never want to write that there were too many injuries to make note of in this journal again.

At that, I refuse to write out all the bad that has happened save for above as it weighs heavy on my mind. Instead, I'm going to write a list of what I'm thankful for having survived this hell.

- My health and well-being
- Thistle, as he calms my nerves and always has a willing ear so long as I have a carrot
- My knowledge of healing to help others
- Sunflowers, as seeing them grow to face the sun always brightens my spirits.
- My mother

I am still sad, understandable of course. However there are no more tears to shed, as I've no more to spare.

Ending on a lighter note, Seriduril suggested a trip to Reaper's March with Keys as we could /all/ use a few days away. I whole-heartedly agreed. He did that strange thing with his lips where they sort of twitch, I think that's how he smiles. It makes me laugh, I find it endearing. Before I left his side this evening, I kissed his forehead. I get flustered thinking about it, to be completely honest. Is that silly?

That's okay, sometimes we need a bit of silly.

[Unlike her usual pristine notes, today's page is rather messy. Sprinkled throughout the page are dried droplets of red wine that didn't quite make it to her mouth as well as crude drawings in the margin of the page.]

The Twenty-Seventh of Midyear; Moons: I don't feel like going outside to check, I'm sure they're still there; Mood: Barf

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Sweet rolls?
- Sweet rolls.
- Cheese, good cheese, the best cheese. I'd even go for that monstrosity Kashya punched together. Not cooked, punched. Cheese and apple, was it? I could do cheese and apple.

Patient Notes

[There's a poorly draw picture of a penis in place of the usual notes.]

Personal Tidbits

I write this sprawled out on my couch, using Seriduril's shield as a little writing desk. How very convenient for me. I don't want to write, this is useless, I thought this was supposed to make you feel better. I only feel nauseous, maybe that's the flin and wine talking. Ugh, flin. Whomever came up with such a drink clearly did not love themselves to put such potent poison in their body.

Grunts came over to the house, it was actually quite endearing seeing him walk in the garden. And then he threw a drake in my well, my drinking supply, mind you. Wanker. To be fair, he offered me a drake and I threw it on in as well. I wished for something, I just don't remember what it was. I told him I found it amusing that those in town look at him as if he's something of legend, a mer that communicates with grunts and the sound one makes when one clears their throat. He calls them 'flavors' to add to conversation. Bullocks.

More things happened, my head is fuzzy and his shield is slowly crushing me.

R.I.P. Estre Ohtarona.

To whomever finds my body, let the cat finish eating me, it's for the best.

The Twenty-Ninth of Midyear; Moons: Haven't fallen from the sky quite yet; Mood: Pissy as a piss-colored flower

Running out or am out of the following ...

[The space is left blank.]

Patient Notes

[The space is left blank.]

Personal Tidbits

When I was a girl, I used to spin around in our little garden until I could spin no more and fall to the ground. When I opened my eyes on the first flower I'd see, I'd run to my mother and tug on her skirt to tell me what the flower symbolized. It was my own little fortune-telling game. After coming home from work today, I dropped my things and decided to give it a go. Thankfully, my head just missed the stonework.

Of course, a rose would be too convenient. As would tulip, daffodil, and so on and so forth.

I saw a dandelion.

A fucking dandelion.

I had the strongest urge to rip it from my garden right then and there, it was like the Gods were laughing at me. "Ah yes, the whiny healer, how else can we humiliate this one? A dandelion? A dandelion."

A fucking dandelion.

But what does a dandelion symbolize except a blemish in my perfect garden? I'm sure I could read deeper into that, I know I could.

I'm just too tired.

My mother used to say that "the earth laughs in flowers." Taken from some Breton poet whose name escapes me. But if the earth laughs in flowers, do piss-colored weeds shaped vaguely like flowers like fall in that category or are they something entirely new?

The Second of Sun's Height; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: [There is a doodle of a dandelion]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Forget-Me-Nots [The blue from the flowers makes the most exquisite dye and I am in sore need of dyeing a few dresses.]
- Brown sugar [Buy from Khajit merchant with milky eye as he has the best prices!]
- Wool [Preferably from sheep of Auridon origin.]

Patient Notes

- A young Bosmer male in his teen years approached me about a lingering pain in his inner thighs, wondering if I might have a look. Being the kind soul I am, I sat the boy down and asked him to remove his pants to which he eagerly did so. I noted no irritation of the skin nor anything else visibly wrong and upon telling him as much, he suggested it [being the pain] travelled to his genitalia. As he was giving me the most peculiar smile, I suggested we amputate right away. Lo-and-behold, his recovery was miraculous and quick as he nearly jumped out the window at the sight of my knife. Needless to say, I'm a miracle worker.

Personal Tidbits

I have come to no conclusion on the meaning of dandelions in my quest for clarity on the matter. If anything, I have more questions. As I could not find anything of use in my books and notes, I asked around town on their knowledge of the meaning of the bright yellow blossom plaguing me. Here is a short list of answers ...

What does a dandelion symbolize?

- Older Khajit woman, none too happy to be disturbed: "It is a flower."

[NOTE: Auri-El's Arse! Of course it's a fucking flower, did I ask that? Needless to say, I didn't say any of that but rather politely thanked her for her time and suggested she get the fleas in her fur checked out. She spat at me, I spat right back.]

- Adorable Khajit child playing with clay marbles: "If you hold a dandelion under your chin and your skin looks gold, it is a sign of good fortune!"

[NOTE: While interesting, my skin is naturally a golden hue so that was no help. Maybe that means I always have good fortune? Impossible! I nearly broke a tooth on an old sweetroll sold to me not minutes earlier!]

More research is needed.

The Fourth of Sun's Height; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: Peachy

Running out or am out of the following

[The space is left blank.]

Patient notes

- Nord Human with greying hair moaned about his broken heart, sulked about the clinic and told me approximately nine times he would perish of said broken heart. Gods alive! When is Alijham coming back? I've suffered through the worst the village has to offer. I told the flea-brained fool that I had no time for such trivial, childish nonsense and suggested he find the door else he'd be suffering from more than a mere broken heart and that was the end of that.

Personal Tidbits

A most interesting day.

I've decided to inquire about learning to "kick ass." Now, I'm quite aware that this has little use in my profession but it seems useful living in a town with many issues that often need people to pick up a sword. This would be fine, if I actually had the strength to pick up a sword. I was more so interested in hand-to-hand combat which is, of course, fighting with physical contact rather than mere weaponry. Who to ask? Someone from the Fighter's Guild, I assume. Terath is a nice mer, I'm certain he could recommend someone.

A redheaded womer by the name of Aleeane seems to have fallen on hard times. She was recently released from the cells for being under the influence of skooma and from what I've heard, is under strict watch. Aleeane briefly spoke to me of her issues, it should be noted she was very drunk when such thoughts were spilled. I have pity for her and wish to help, but am uncertain where to even begin. I hope for her sake it's not to late to turn her back to this harmful lifestyle as she seems to be intelligent and worth keeping around as I feel she has a lot to offer Vulkswasten.

In other terribly exciting news, I was asked out for an evening of drinks and dinner. A date, if you will. He was Human, Nord, I believe. I have no interest of pursuing anything other than a professional relationship with Humans as they have the lifespan of a sickly gnat. Harsh, even cruel, but it is what it is. Needless to say, I politely refused and went about my business. The man lingered about the clinic for a while, I don't think he was expecting a refusal. See 'Patient Notes' for what transpired next.

The Fifth of Sun's Height; Moons: I'm cozy in bed, they'll have to wait; Mood: Exhausted

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Chamomile [I'm convinced if I bathe, consume, and inhale the damned thing I might possibly relax.]

Patient Notes

- Cirlin suffered a stab wound to her shoulder. Thankfully the blade didn't hit any major arteries and though deep, I'm confident it will heal just fine. I cleaned the area and proceeded to stitch it closed, before bandaging it up. The poor girl, she seems too young to have set out on her own. Understandably enough she cried but I did my best to comfort and coddle, much like a mother. She seemed to be in much better spirits when I finished, though I did manage to pick up some useful bits of information as she babbled to which I will promptly report to the guard. Or rather, a guard. I can only deal with one grunting guard at a time, thank you. At that, I miss talking to him. [The latter is scratched out.]

Personal Tidbits

I am vaguely annoyed that so many have blatantly asked of my interest in Llevis. The downfalls of living in a small, country village, I suppose. Everyone is in everyone's business and privacy is but a myth. However, I'm not nearly annoyed at that as I am the braying buffoon of a Nord that made teasing remarks in regards to his hearing. It's no wonder I often saw him on his own if people are so blatantly cruel! He told me that he often suffers from headaches so I gave him a tisane to brew, I hope it does some good. If not, we'll try something else. He deals with enough bullshit on a daily basis as it is.

The Ninth of Sun's Height; Moons: Full Moons; Mood: [the space is left blank]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Fucks to give [Kidding, I've always wanted to write that here.]

Patient Notes

- Do you hear that? If you listen closely enough you an hear the Gods themselves laughing at me. Seriduril was brought to me in a lovesick daze, rambling on and on about Kashya. Felt like parading through town with my middle fingers up. "There goes Estre," they'd say in perfect nonchalance, "on one of her pity parades. Come, let's tally off what number this is." Now, once the self-pity was out of the way, I had Wren take him to the clinic. At one point, I thought I was being pranked, truth be told. Nonetheless, she politely informed me that some half-assed Imperial magician put a charm on him. I drew the threads of magicka from his heart to find they were all knotted, like a child messing up on a weaving and shoving it under their bed. It took a while to undo the harm, though the real culprit was this crimson parasitic thread. Upon pulling it away with my tweezers, the thing started to squeal and wriggle. I threw it in the fireplace and Wren helped me shove him onto a pile of furs.

Personal Tidbits

To be quite honest, I didn't feel like writing in my journal tonight. I have nothing pleasant to write, so why write it? Scratch that, I do have one thing.

Upon speaking with Keys and Alijham, we've decided to host a bit of a tea party at my humble home. Although he is a small man being a Bosmer, Ali is fairly muscular so the thought of him holding a dainty teacup is nothing short of amusing. Keys had some fun picturing a dress for me to wear, speaking of flowers as the theme. It was cute, but a little boorish. While I do like them, why not mix it up with skulls or something equally macabre? Because skulls and tea parties don't mix, Estre, that's why.

I've been thinking, a dangerous pastime, of marriage. Just generally, I have no desire to get married as of now nor do I have anyone to marry besides my cat and he's quite content licking his balls and judging me on his little pillow.

When I was a girl, my mother was very strict with my mannerisms, posture, and how I spoke. She had an old book of being a proper lady and would instruct me on doing such. Her goal, I thought, was to make me a pearl amongst the swine. Quite literally, we kept pigs. However she later informed me that she wished to groom me into a suitable candidate for marriage to someone of social standing and worth. I can't blame her, she was a martyr raising me on my father's salary and I know she did all she did out of love. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm quite cut out for the lifestyle of being suffocated in expensive furs and unable to lift a finger given the hen's egg sized jewels decorating them. I write to her every week and almost every week I'm met with her replying that she's met the most 'divine' mer and talking of Solimon.

Fucking Solimon.

Yes, I'm quite aware he's made a nice life for himself. Did he lose weight? Lovely, glad to hear it. Another heifer? He must be doing quite well. You say he's been asking about me? Tell him me and my vestigial twin Vivyne have been doing just fine. She didn't appreciate the last remark.

I've taken my freedom for granted, so many other women my age already have a child in their womb, in their arms, /and/ tugging at their skirts. I'll stick with my ungrateful cat, thank you.

[A drawing has been tucked away between the pages, crumpled at the edges as if it was handled frequently.]

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The Eleventh of Sun's Height; Moons: Waning Gibbous; Mood: Meh.

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Live-for-Ever [Contrary to popular belief it doesn't grant you immortality but rather calms any rumbling gut.]
- Dame's Rocket
- Fruitful Virgin [A bloody paradox, who comes up with these names?]

Patient Notes

- Bosmer hunter came to me with most appalling infection to his right arm, apparently from the bite of a senche. The man did not clean or seek medical attention until the gangrene set in. That's right, gangrene. Unfortunately, he came for help far too late and there was nothing I could so except amputate as he would surely die without ridding himself of the limb. Needless to say, he didn't take kindly enough to such news and had a few colorful choice words to insult me including:

- Ye unmuzzled shag-haired harlot [This old fuck, my hair was as beautiful as it always is.]
- You with the wit of boar and looks to match
- Ye milk-livered canker-blossom
- You with the heart of a decaying dog and odor to match [Rude.]

[NOTE: I hushed him to run off and grab my journal to write these down as I could surely use them one day! Such creativity! Needless to say, me telling him to shut up only made him angrier. I'd ask him to coach me on such fascinating insults but his untimely death will unfortunately prevent this as he stormed out of the clinic.]

Personal Tidbits

I like to play this game with myself called the 'what if' game and it goes something like this.

What if I rode naked through town on my elk?

Then I think it over. What would happen if I rode Thistle through town with everything just flying around? Not that things fly around, I still have my youth. Anyways, I'd think that I'd be knocked off of him with a rock by some cruel fuckwit. That's the realistic answer, but the fun answer is that I'd be paraded through the streets sitting on the shoulder of some buff, built like a mountain Altmer whose face was chiseled by the Gods themselves. They'd throw flowers-- Or bits of meat rather seeing that this is Vulkswasten and commend my bravery. And then when I grow weary of all the exhausting adoration, the same Altmer kneel on all fours so I may have a proper seat to answer questions on how I, Estre Ohtarona, manage to be oh so cool.

It's about this time Alijham nudges me and asks me to mop up puke, blood, or any other imaginable body fluid.

At least I have my imagination.

The Seventeenth of Sun's Height; Moons: Waning Crescents; Mood: [The space is left blank.]

Running out or am out of the following ...

[The space is left blank.]

Patient Notes

[The space is left blank.]

Personal Tidbits

My markings faded both dangerously and deliciously close to normalcy. Call it vanity, but waited as long as I possibly could to reapply them. Even for a day, it felt wondrous to fade into the background and feel like any other. Unsurprisingly, I'm asked about them fairly frequently. I just say that I'm ill and it's usually met with murmured replies of pity.

It was worse than I expected, however, as the influx of strong emotions usually disturbs my magicka as it is. A symptom I'm familiar with but haven't seen since I was but a child reappeared. Truth be told, it scared me. I woke with a fever after spending the night under the stars, which isn't terribly shocking, but when I started to my proper home I began to feel something sticky and abnormal on my fingertips. My surplus of magicka decided to manifest into a liquid, more of a sap, secreting from the pores of my fingertips. I tried to wipe it off against a tree to which it came off in thick strands but was all too soon replaced.

Honey, is what I could best connect it to in terms of what it both looked and felt like. It fell from my fingers in heavy drops, one could mark my trail by following them alone. In my feverish haze, I managed to find my way home and reapply the markings. My hair had leaves and twigs in it, my skin looked sickly, and my eyes never quite focused.

A bath seemed to help.

I filled the tin in the middle of my garden, by the magnolia tree. The 'sap' dissolved in the hot water and tinged the water a curious amber color. I dunked myself underneath, looking to the world as if behind a looking glass. Watery and distorted images of life beyond, I waited until my lungs burned for air to surface. For whatever reason, I did this more than once.

It felt good to be the one behind the mirror rather in front of it.

The Twenty-Third of Sun's Height; Moons: New Moons; Mood: Scared

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Sugar [Brown, heavy with molasses.]
- Flour
- Butter [Buy from Casephona, need to give her potion for husband's gout]
- Ox blood

Patient Notes

- I don't want to remember.

Personal Tidbits

Indeed these are trying times in which every able body is needed as I've found myself enlisted in the guard.

Do I want to guard? Fuck, no. I love working with Alijham and and Heals. However Kashya has left and Seriduril has been thrusted into the position of Marshall, though he insists on being called Major. Time and time again I've asked him how I can help ease the burden of Vulkwasten's issues from his shoulders. Besides being a part of the guard, of course, he asked me to bring the imperfect pastries from my batches as he is under the illusion they taste better.

It brought me back to the night in my garden with him where I first brought them up, the idea of imperfection. I don't quite recall why I was so upset through the haze of wine and flin, but he held my face and spoke sweet words. I wish I remembered what he said.

People will talk, as they always do, that I've taken the position with lustful intentions.

Let them talk, none of them have the guts to say any of this to my face. It is only through wisps of murmured conversations that they piece together whole stories. Indeed I often say these gossips know more about me than I do myself. What friend would let another struggle? To stay to the side rather than lend a helping hand?

I just need to know he's safe and sound, physically and mentally. Not that he normally talks openly about such.

The dark circles under his eyes speak more than he ever would.

The Twenty-Fourth of Sun's Height; Moons: Covered by clouds; Mood: Tired

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Nirnroot

Patient Notes

- I'm burning through my markings faster than normal, they usually last just about a month but I've had to replace them twice during Sun's Height. I believe stress is a large factor as I've been trying to balance both healing and guard work. Needless to say, it's exhausting and I cherish each time I'm able to sit for a spell. Thankfully thus far my magicka hasn't manifested as that 'sap', I'd be humiliated if anyone saw

- Llevis has been having horrid migraines, I came upon him stooped over the ledge of a cliff emptying his stomach contents and then some. What I gave him before, the tisane, it doesn't appear to be working too well so I asked to try something else to help. He didn't mind but said at this point he was used to the feeling. Auri-El's arse! No one should just accept that with such a blasé outlook. Channeling magicka into him helped some, according to him, and as such I offered to do so whenever he feels this ill.

Personal Tidbits

I have little to say, I'm spread thin just trying to hold this town together.

In a way, I almost envy Kashya for being able to walk away without a second thought. The thought has crossed me that I could simply walk off and leave all of this behind. Would Seriduril miss me? Would anyone miss me? I don't think so. My abilities, perhaps, but not me.

With such bone-aching exhaustion comes melancholy.

I just need him to be okay, to be safe. Every time he goes on a patrol, right before he leaves, I tell him to "be safe." I believe I've down this almost the entire time I've known him. He always replies with, "you, as well." It's a bit of a ritual, at this point I'm scared what will happen if I don't, like it's bad luck if I don't say it.

Terath told me I should be wary of who I'm attached to. Alijham, Wren, Keys, Seriduril, Heals, Llevis, and Terath.

That's it, that's who I'm attached to.

No one else.

The Thirty-First of Sun's Height; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: Peachy

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Ginger root
- Incense [The type that smells like musty orange peels and cloves]
- Dried figs

Patient Notes

- Do you see this? This is me pledging to cut the dick off of the next male patient that makes crude comments towards me. A Human came into the clinic, Breton, I think. Like I can tell, they're all soft-faced and dull-eared. Anyways, he comes in for the changing of bandages from a pig bite. Yes, a pig bite. Going about my business, the creep started making weird comments. "You look nice in that dress." Yes, I know. "You ought to smile more." That bothered me, why should I smile to some greasy guts-griping skeever stupid enough to find himself with a pig bite? Then, the pox-marked PIG had the NERVE to ask me to kiss him, saying it would make him feel better.

Quite a bit of acting was required.

I turned to the shameless sop of a slug and put on the toothiest grin. "Is this how Humans propose marriage," I gushed. Oh, how I gushed. "I should like a SPRING wedding!" He looked to be at a loss of words. "Do you mind if my children come? I have seventeen and a half, that won't be a problem will it?" He started to sputter. "I also sleep with an urn of my mother's ashes, you will be required to keep her company each day while I work." Oh, how he sputtered! He sounded like a kettle! "You'll be getting two for the price of one, my vestigial twin is quite conscious and very eager to please." At that point he bee-lined for the ladder and went on and on about what a crazy wench I am.

The nerve!

If you're going to insult me, insult me right, don't be stating the obvious.

Personal Tidbits

I vaguely remember getting high. On an herbal concoction, not skooma, mind you. Though at the same time why am I explaining myself to a fucking book? I could write that I'm Queen of Tamriel and you'd just have to suck it up and let me write out my days having grapes fed to me by shirtless mer and being so terribly interesting.

Where was I?

Oh, right. I remember almost getting arrested, then getting high, and then it understandably starts to get hazy. I think he rested his head in my lap, that sounds right. Did I touch his face? I don't remember, I wish I remembered.

I've been cat-sitting Hrota, she just stares at me, I've taken to staring back.

She normally wins these contests.

The Third of Last Seed; Moons: [The space is left blank]; Mood: Don't fuck with me.

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Monkshood
- Belladonna [Interesting note, Imperial women would distill the fruit of the plant to it's most pure form and proceed to use a dropper to place a few droplets of the oil in each eye. The oil would then dilate the pupil, thus giving a doe-eyed romantic stare.]
- Hemlock

Patient Notes

- Adsomar, a younger Altmer male, has repeatedly tried to break into the supply cabinet to nurse his own wounds. I'm not sure why he does this as the wounds are located on his back and obviously need another person to attend to. That being said, he has been coming to the clinic every afternoon in so that I can apply a salve to burns he's suffered from. He's interesting.

Personal Tidbits

I do not normally like to write of negative thoughts here as I tend to reread them and thus dwell on what I don't exactly care to dwell over.

That being said, it's not exactly the smartest move to spill one's secrets and then proceed to speak to numerous individuals on what was supposed to be kept between two people.

If I was vindictive, hateful, I could certainly use this to my advantage. Is he aware, I wonder, of all of the hell I could unleash on him? How I could quite literally destroy what little sense of comfort he has? [There seems to be a pause in the writing.] I couldn't, I can't, nor would I ever. Some sick, twisted part of me still holds something that vaguely resembles care towards him.

All he is to me now, and will remain, is a physical manifestation of a lesson well learned.

However, Kashya has indeed grown on me and suffered from our combined bullshit enough as it is. I may not always agree on her methods, but I enjoy her humor. We had a good talk, I think. Brief, but good.

The Ninth of Last Seed; Moons: Waning Gibbous; Mood: Sleepy

Running out or am out of the following ...

- "Special herb" [That Khajit was undercutting me, mixing it with fucking parsley. Don't fuck with a botanist!]

Patient Notes

- How do so many people get things stuck up their bum? On second thought, I'm not so sure I want to know that answer. "I slipped onto the carrot." Mhm, yes, of course you did, sweetheart. What is it about my demeanor that make people seem like I'd be so stupid as to fall for that. I know you've been doing naughty things with veggies! Just keep still and don't talk to me while I remove it. Don't even give me eye contact! You don't deserve to look at my beautiful face when you use vegetables in such a manner! The carrot doesn't deserve that, leave the carrot out of it. Auri-El, I felt like apologizing to it.

You were lovingly tended to and grow under the nurturing care of a farmer. Plucked from the earth, excited to fulfill your duty in a stew or roast. Lo-and-behold! It was not to be as I found myself plucking you from not the earth, but a butthole.

I will never look at a carrot the same way.

Personal Tidbits

I just want to get high and lay around in my underwear.

The Twenty-Seventh of Last Seed; Moons: Waxing Crescents; Mood: Tired

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Fucks to give [This will never not be funny to me, I am a comedic genius.]
- Silver dust
- Spiderwebs [No wonder Afer refers to me as a witch ... ]

Patient Notes

- Rasad is better and I am no longer wracking my brain trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Bethany helped him the most, and while I am pleased she was such a help, I cannot help but feel envious that she was able to figure out what was wrong. Truth be told, I felt somewhat useless as I am more familiar with disease and not the curse that he was under.

Personal Tidbits

I'm under the impression that many of Vulkwasten have very strong opinions on me. The locals either seem to really enjoy me and my abilities or despise me for petty reasons. I shouldn't be overthinking this, but if I'm being entirely honest the idea of anyone disliking me hurts my heart. Do they think I'm some unfeeling stereotype of my kind? To hell with the whole sticks and stones may break my bones but words will not harm me. They do harm!

Brother Terrance has been a handful as of late, he seems to be under the impression that I hate him. It takes an awful lot of energy to hate another, energy that I have no desire to waste. I do not hate anyone, I think. Things are said out of anger and frustration, but hatred is toxic to one's well being.

Now that all of the negativity is out of the way, time to end with something positive.

I spoke with Adsomar well into the night yesterday, it was quite pleasant. He's terribly sweet and gentle and I've found myself looking forward to our conversations. The big lug confessed he was somewhat concerned that it was a relief to hear that I know he cares deeply for me despite the lack of romantic talk on his part. I hardly mind, the way he looks at me and smiles makes my heart skip a beat and puts me in a near tizzy. Absolutely ridiculous, he's both a pain in the arse and one to sigh over in a lovesick daze.

The following is written in a simple, cheap journal, there is nothing decorative or special about it save for the word "E" written plainly atop the cover.

Sadri believes we will accustom to the change better with something to write our feelings in. If that is what "Serjo" wants, so be it. This account will be for me, for my own frustrations and then straight into the hearth. I can't risk Maddren snooping through my thoughts to which he will certainly do. Even so, what can I say?

The weather is warm, and I am a slave. I was given two lashings, and I am a slave. Maddren made me strip my clothing, and I am a slave. They told me my name is "E" and that I can earn the other letters back, still a slave.

I think I have cried all that I can, I have nothing else to weep for except, of course, Adsomar. Sadri told me he made certain that he saw me from the ship. To say he is a monster is nothing short of a compliment, it is difficult not to let my hatred overwhelm my senses. I must remain vigilant, I crave a life worth living. This is anything but.

There is nothing I have left to write worth writing. Wallowing in pity will do me no good, if I expect to live, I must keep my head up and rise above. Easier said than done, of course.

I will live, I will live, I will live.

I will live to bake gingersnaps for Keys. I will live to help those in need with Alijham. I will live to tease the ever loving hell out of Afer. I will live to keep seeing that Kashya has a smile on her face. I will live to keep dragging Vulkwasten from Oblivion's grasp.

I will live for Adsomar.

Whilst Adsomar is taking care of Estre's home in her absence, he might stumble upon a few of many handwritten memos, notes, and unfinished letters. It seemed there wasn't a space in which a written reminder was place.

An open notebook is placed next to her bathtub, droplets of spilled ink inside the tub would suggest she always found time and space to write. The page would be turned to the following ...

His Bouquet

- Allysum: Worth above beauty
- Shy violets, the ones that peek out beneath the clover: Modesty
- Sunflowers, they look like him: Pure and lofty thoughts
- Althea Frutex: Consumed by love

There would be doodles of aforementioned flowers in the margin of the page.

A note would be tacked on the headboard of her bed, just above the unnecessarily large pile of pillows both decorative and of actual use.

Remember to say a prayer for Widow Amaarantha, she passed in her sleep. Is it sinful to feel relief for her passing? She seemed to be in much pain, the kind a healer simply cannot fix. I hope she is reunited with her husband, wherever she is.

Amongst the papers on the desk in her bedroom would be a list simply titled, "Blessings."

- Smooth river rocks
- Wild strawberries, the kind that make you pucker your lips
- Friends that love me, just as I love them
- DEER.
- Falling asleep in the sunshine and waking up questioning what the date is. That is the sign of a good nap.
- Adsomar's hugs

An unfinished letter would be used as a place marker in a book of the native plants of Auridon, sticking out from the yellowing pages.

My Dear,

You are a very heavy sleeper. Did you know? Surely, you must. Also you snore. And drool. But I still love you.

Another unfinished letter is half-buried under personal research and observations of her Nixiad, Nettle.

Don't let the others tease you about your dislike of showing too much skin. Personally, I could walk around with my tits in the wind and not give single fuck so I think we even each other nicely in that aspect. Plus, I'll beat up everyone and anyone that messes with you, farm boy. Giant smelly Nord make a comment about how you walk? I'll drink my tea from his skull. Be yourself, it's the best you that you could possibly be. I love you, Smells-Like-Sheep.

The following is written in a plain journal with the letter 'E' written plainly across it. Everything written in the journal would be burned upon writing it down, using it to vent rather than record.

I attended a ball. That is right, dear journal, a ball full of drinking, dancing, and pitching woo. I of course did not partake in any of such frivolous activities, though Sadri asked that I enjoy myself. Strange does not even begin to cover such a request. 'Serjo' set out a dress of black and gold silk to wear and upon seeing me, said it was hardly a wonder Adsomar fell in love with me. Fool! I am more than just a pretty face. Of course I had to smile and thank the bastard for such loving words.

The only other Altmer there stuck up a conversation with, and though polite, I was also very short. What was I to possibly say! Good evening, ser, my name is Estre and I have to kneel besides my Dunmer 'Master' like a little, obedient dog. And what is it you do? I could scream! When Sadri came to collect me, the mer tried to offer a bag of sapphires as to buy me. Me! My body for some shiny pebbles! At least he didn't offer his second best sow and a few wheels of white cheese for me. Sadri was very firm in saying that he was "saving me for another." I hope he meant Adsomar, anyone else makes my stomach lurch.

Nammu, a new slaver, is my least favorite in the household. He pulled my hair and smacked me upside the head but now it seems that I am on his good side as he fussed with my hair and touched my face in a more gentle manner. What is with these men and touching! Have they never seen an Altmer before? Am I that much of an oddity? Well, yes, but not for those reasons.

Last night Maddren pulled myself and A aside into the bedroom. It was frightening. He took off his helm, from what I understood it is a rare occasion, and stared at me. I wasn't sure what to do let alone say. Thinking he was expecting a compliment, I merely put on a smile and said that he was "very handsome." As if, he's young enough to be hanging from my tit. A, on the other hand, looked upon him as if he was Auri-El himself. After doing her usual blushing and stuttering, she said that she had dreamed about his face. How awful! Is she ignorant to the way he treats us? Gods alive, she is an unusual one. It will not surprise me if she opts to stay when they come for us. Clinging to Maddren's hand, no doubt. Seeing her like this, it's a wonder she was ever a guard.

Get off your arse and come get me, Adsomar. While I do not like to rely on others, I simply cannot swim back to Vulkwasten! I wonder what he's doing. Does he miss me? I miss him. Bad thoughts plague me at night, ones that make me wonder if he'd ever forget about me. To that I tell myself to shut up and go to sleep because he only has eyes for me as I do for him.

The Twenty-ninth of Hearthfire; Moons: It is still light out; Mood: Disheartened

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Rosemary branches [to distill an oil from]
- Peppermint [preferably fresh]
- Lavender, lavender, lavender!

[NOTE: All of they herbs above are used to repel insects,.Blast Adsomar and his bug problem! Honestly, it's like sleeping next to a dog with fleas. I've gone through ever remedy I know of to rid of the little pests and they come right back at full force. I remember Afer and J'varr mentioning they too had issues with insects, perhaps all three rolled in something like boys do. And dogs. I fail to see the difference.]

Patient Notes

- If I see one more tick, flea, and/or chigger I shall positively scream.

Personal Tidbits

I have been under a dispirited spell as of late, feeling weak and generally useless. I used to think of myself as strong in both character and to a significantly lesser degree, physically, but as of now I feel like even the slightest gust of wind could knock me from my feet and onto my knees like some ditzy damsel. There has not been a great need to socialize with others, in fact I've been rather withdrawn sans for working at the clinic and spending evenings with Adsomar. But even with the latter, we've not talked a great deal between myself returning to my normal schedule and the grueling training and insect bites he's been dealing with.

I don't like to worry him, he's still so young and immature in many ways. The boy has enough on his plate as it is.

There is little worth reporting, little that I want to record that is worth remembering. There's just a general fatigue about me and my thoughts. When this occurs, I often wonder if any one would miss me if I were to leave. Would anybody remember my name? I think that is just the sadness speaking for me.

Though if I am to be perfectly honest, I miss speaking with Seriduril. I wonder if he knew where I was, if he cared.

I can't blame him for not showing up at the little confrontation, if I was him I wouldn't want to rescue some useless, mewling brat either.

The Second of Frostfall; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: [The space is left blank.]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Powdered lapis lazuli
- Red wine

Patient Notes

- Was asked by the Marshal to heal a patient on a more emotional level rather than physical. Lead to the cells, patient was unconscious suffering from contusions, breaks in various area of his bones, as well as dried, caked blood on the top of his skull. I was informed another healer had healed the physical injuries, which he had, but it doesn't hurt to record the whole of it. Nonetheless I began a familiar procedure in which I pulled lines of magicka from his heart often associated with emotion and if serious enough, trauma.

I can't recall the last time I've seen, if I've ever seen, such damage. The lines were extremely knotted, the largest of them crystallized in some sort of poisonous miasma. It hurt to touch them, like I was being burned but upon inspection of my fingers, found they were unmarked. Until I get a better understanding of them, I won't be touching it for my own health. I worked on the looser knots and untangled those, at least bringing a semblance of relief. Though one must question how much pain they feel if I'm able to hurt at just a brush with their heart.

I'd like to continue my work on the patient, they deserve kindness. It would've been extremely unprofessional, but I just wanted to hug them, coddle them, and tell them I understood at least some of the pain they felt.

Personal Tidbits

Seriduril and I spoke a little while I worked on my patient. It was strange, as it would be.

He asked me how I was. I said perfect. He called me out on it and said he knew me better.

I felt like laughing. Why question how I'm doing if you know the answer? He said it was because he, "gave a shit."

Like it wasn't hard enough to untangle another's heart without him near.

If he cares so much as he claims, then why wasn't he with the others when they came to negotiate the release of the slaves? I didn't want to tell him that I was looking for him amongst those battle-scarred shields and helm-adorned faces. Adsomar was enough, is what I keep telling myself. And yet, I'm still bitter that after all I did for him, all the tears I shed for him, he couldn't be bothered to show up.

That boy is a disaster, a sweet disaster.

Just a headache wrapped in heartbreak.

The following is written on the back on the previous entry, a continuation. The writing isn't as neat as it would be, as if quickly scrawled down.

Stressed and sad, sad and stressed. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm alright. I'm not alright. My heart hurts, my body hurts, I'm hurting. But who heals the healer? Nobody. I don't have time to simply take a break from work, life doesn't stop for anyone and won't make an exception for me. I just want to run and keep running, as far as my legs will take me. I want to scream and shout and make a scene because I'm not alright, I'm anything but.

Who heals the healer? Who heals the healer? Who heals the healer?

The Seventeenth of Frostfall; Moons: Require me to get out of bed to look; Mood: [There's a drawing of a peach]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Formaldehyde alternative, should probably switch back to a concentrated alcohol
- Sow thistles [to re-dye my favorite skirt]

Patient Notes

Too many pregnancies. I didn't think people were so oblivious to the idea of contraception. Gods alive, I really don't like playing the part of a midwife either. The mothers are screaming and thrashing about [understandably so] and the fathers are either looking panicked, in my way, or close to tears as they watch the last of their freedom slip away. Usually it's all three. And then when they child is finally ripped from the womb and given to it's mother, I get envious because I am a jealous twit seeing the joyous scene when all I have to return home to is a dinner for one [usually soup] with my cat who would rather lick his asshole than spend a moment in the company of she that feeds the wretched ass licker.

Personal Tidbits

Just about finished unpacking in the new house, I feel safer here. It's harder to get in and the walls are higher. I think the iron spikes really add the finishing touch that I don't wish to be bothered. Having Adsomar stay helps too. I always sleep better when he's around, he said the same for me too. The big lug always looks so young when he's asleep, if that makes sense. No longer a fighter brandishing iron and bedecked in heavy armor scarred with battle but a little boy tired from keeping up such appearances.

I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him.

I found the carved animal figurines father made me, they're a bit worn from age and play though. the stag, more so than the others. Part of his antler broke off, I'm going to try to glue it back on. I remember him being my favorite. Funny, I don't particularly remember father being particularly interested in whittling but then again there is very little I do remember about him.

Fiore used to play with them with me during the periods I was sick in bed. When he wasn't busy at the university, that is. While I am accustomed to him slipping in and out of my life as he is prone to do, I must admit that I miss him quite fiercely. He's usually rather quick to answer my letters, but he's certainly been taking his time. Though I'm confident he's just fine. Fio is many things, but slow-witted is not one of them.

The Fourteenth of Evening Star; Moons: Covered by clouds. Curse this rain!; Mood: Excited!

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Needles made of bone [Nettle snapped the last one over his tiny leg after I made him a darling rain poncho! Brat.]
- Licorice root
- Approximately twelve firefly thoraxes [give or take]

Patient Notes

So many injured Khajiit. Did they all just decide to mark a day on their calendars to break a leg or lose a tail? I think so. Auri-El, I'm adamant on a clinic policy in which one must have no more than one life threatening condition per week. Mostly because of Disneyl. Honestly! She's either being her usual cocky or obnoxious self or at death's door with a blade between her shoulders, there is no in-between with that girl. I weep for her spawn.

Personal Tidbits

Dearest journal, I'm so pleased to have found you! So much has occurred since we've last spoken. In a sense, that is. Most notably, I am to be wed to my Adsomar! If anyone was to tell me this months ago, I would've looked at them as if they were out of their bleeding mind. To think how much our relationship has grown and changed, it's truly a marvel. When I look at him, I can't help but wish to backhand myself for ever wishing to be with Seriduril when someone so loving and kind was close the whole time.

Unrelated, but Wraesha, of all people, has become a friend. We have more similarities than one would've ever thought and I do enjoy her dry humor. I don't think Keys approves, but I'm trying not to get between the evident tension between the two.

For the most part, I'd say life has finally been settling down. I'm pleased where I am, being a respected healer in Vulkwasten. Though some days I do grow homesick for the fair weather and cuisine of Auridon. I only wonder what life throws at me next.

Hopefully not anymore GODS-DAMNED injured cat people.

The Fourth of Sun's Dawn; Moons: Still covered by dreary clouds.; Mood: Morose

Running out or am out of the following ...

[The space is left blank.]

Patient Notes

[The space is left blank.]

Personal Tidbits

Apologies for the lack of attention I've been giving you, is what I feel like I should say. But you are a bundle of papers and leather whilst I am a living, breathing person so I ask that you suck it up and enjoy this emotional ride.

Anyways.

I find that I'm no longer finding any joy in healing, that it is becoming more of a chore than a personal passion to help those in need. My sympathy wains and I no longer feel the need to comfort so much as I do patch the patient up and send them on their way. I thought to tell a friend, but a startling thought occurred to me. I consider very few as friends. Those that I genuinely trust.

A List of My Friends

- Adsomar
- [The space is left blank.]
- ???
- Thistle
- [There's a doodle of a mudcrab saying 'I'm crabby!']
- Afer? Maybe?

Everyone else I view with a sort of suspicion, even if we are on friendly terms. I'm not oblivious to the whispers and murmurs behind my back. People don't like the grumpy, short-tempered healer? Shocking. More often that not, I've been spending my free time at the beach. It is there I have any remote feeling of being at peace with myself and my choices. Most of the time I just sit in the sand, watch the waves, and think. Though I rarely remember what it is I think over, I find it comforting to just tune out the rest of the world and succumb to my loneliness.

I've been pondering the idea of resigning from the clinic. I daresay there are many that would be relieved. The thought of leaving Vulkwasten as a whole has been tempting, but I could never leave Adsomar. I feel as if he's the only thing keeping me grounded from spiraling out of control. I wish I had more friends, but no one wants to be in the company of a sharp-tongued wench.

Not even I.

The Sixth of Sun's Dawn; Moons: Waning Gibbous; Mood: Decent

Running out or am out of the following

- Stinging nettle
- Wildflower honey

Patient Notes

Someone got stung by a bee. I felt worse for the bee than I did for the person.

Personal Tidbits

An interesting turn of events.

Once again is something wrong with the 'heart tree; but to the extent that there was a mandatory evacuation so the Bosmer could call in their tree people to do tree business. Whatever. I try to be understanding of their culture, I do. But all this fuss for a tree? I'll never understand it.

Kashya "Can't-hold-down-a-job" Vulano led us to another little town for the time being called Cormount. It's much bigger than Vulkwasten, but that isn't saying much. It was a lovely ride, but the ocean's breeze will be sorely missed given the humid climate. I'll be staying in the makeshift Fighter's Guild hall for the time being with the rest of my brethren in arms.

More so than the sea breeze, privacy will be missed.

Afer offered to supply Adsomar and myself with a tent but I declined. I'm not that desperate to be alone with him, heavens. Though I wonder how he'll fair.

I've decided that Afer is a friend, and one that can be trusted, at that. He shared some very intimate details of his early life. It made me sad for him. He looked odd when he was telling his story, almost older than he is. I wanted very much to give him a tight hug but I couldn't bring myself to do so. He was also very interested in my childhood, though I told him it was nothing worth noting.

I think I'm going to take a nap.

I hope I have that dream of Auridon again.

The Twenty-Fouth of Sun's Dawn; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: Devastated

Running out or am out of the following ...

- A home

Patient Notes

[The space is left blank.]

Personal Tidbits

I hardly know where to begin.

Stealing away a spare bit of time, I took the half day's journey back to our home just outside of Vulkwasten to see if we had any bit of dry goods to spare for the town's food storage. I was met not with the welcoming sight of the brambles of sunlight-kissed tea roses climbing up the worn grey stone of our home nor the intoxicatingly sweet scent of jasmine that hangs in the air, but a notice nailed against the wooden door to the humble estate that plainly read-- "REPOSSESSED."

Thinking it to be some cruel joke, I rushed right over to the owner in Vulkwasten of whom I was in the process of making payments of the home and had for quite some time. Demanding that he take the sign off from my house, MY HOME, the fat bastard brayed in my face like an overenthusiastic donkey. I was behind on payments, which I was aware of and was doing something about. Honestly! But the oaf was tired of waiting for his coin.

Begging, crying, threatening, nothing would move this greedy fucker but the glitter of gold.

He hobbled to the home and let me in past the gates if only to collect what he didn't sell off to satisfy my debts. My research equipment, my imported furnishings, MY BOOKS, and even the small blossoming trees from Auridon. They were no more. Too shocked to shed any more tears, I managed a small crate of what he didn't sell. The wooden animal figurines Fiore carved for me as a child, two work dresses in dire need of repair, my research journals, and you, dear diary. Trying to hold my chin up was difficult seeing the gutted remains of the home Adsomar and I made. The home in which I hoped to raise our children.

How am I to tell him that we lost our house? Aren't good wives supposed to take care of their husbands and make sure they have a warm house and a hot meal to come back to? Am I a bad wife even before becoming truly wed to him? My stomach lurches at the very idea.

The Twenty-First of Rain's Hand; Moons: The clouds are covering them this evening; Mood: Anxious

Running out or am out of the following ...

- White sage
- Beeswax

Patient Notes

Zalya is ... a special sort of irksome.

The next time she asks about her nipples, I'm jumping out of the clinic window to sweet, sweet freedom.

Personal Tidbits

I'll be blunt, dear diary, healing has become blasé. Tiresome. Tedious. A burden. Call it what you like, my passion has been depleted as of late. The good news, however, is I've found something of an exciting pastime. Well, not quite a pastime. It happened once and it gave me quite the rush. You see, I was one of few to partake in an operation in which we stole a ship from Morrowind and the chests of jewelry on board.

It sounds so much worse when I write it out.

I'm not a bad person! I didn't hurt anyone, I only took a little bit of the jewelry. Enough to buy a house, actually. Still, not a bad person! Maybe hire guards and the like if you're carrying so much expensive merchandise, really, it was their fault.

Gods alive, it was all so riveting. To take part in such a risky operation with much on the line, it was almost too much. I want more. I think I could be good at this. This could be my new calling. I mean, I know how to fight plenty enough so it only makes sense I do more with it than I am now.

I didn't tell Adsomar.

I couldn't tell Adsomar.

He's a guard now. I mean he could technically arrest me. That's sort of hot but st-- [There's an abrupt break in the writing.]

Maybe I should think this over more.

The Twenty-Seventh of Rain's Hand; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: Fair

Running out or am out of the following ...

- White sugar [It feels so good to be baking for Adsomar again! No one appreciate my baked goods more than he, even if he nearly inhales them from the plate.]
- Stinging Nettle

Patient Notes

K'y burned himself whilst preforming two spells at once, he had both second and third degree burns. Sometimes I have hope for others, that I'll see the good in people. And then IDIOTS like K'y show up and all that goes away. Thank you, you silver-haired idiot, for depleting my wavering faith in the good and simple folk of Cormount

Personal Tidbits

Kashya kissed my cheek, or something. So I'm told. Should I even believe them? It feels like I've been hit over the head, all this aching. Why does it matter anyway, it's better than a bottle over the head. That's right, Kashya, I haven't forgotten. Maybe one day she comes into the clinic needing assistance and I'll casually look up from my book like, "say, remember when you gave me a concussion? Because I remember."

I wouldn't do that. Maybe. I feel bad for her. She doesn't even seem like she wants to get married while I'm over here giggling over Adsomar in his guard uniform. Auri-El. He's so cute. It's not fair. I mean, sometimes it will hit me that I can kiss him because he is my fiancé and I need a minute because it's just too much.

I mean she looks at him like

The Eleventh of Frostfall; Moons: Waxing Crescent; Mood: Anxious

Running out or am our of the following ...

- Beeswax
- Leeches
- Lemonbalm

Note: Thank Fannath for his assistance.

Patient Notes

Where to begin, where to begin.

Afer suffered a partial dislocation to his shoulder, there was also splotchy bruising around the area. Afer will also soon be suffering my foot up his arse if he doesn't get his attitude in check when I'm healing. Such a ungrateful, cross-eyed whelp, that one.

Renma, Kashya's odd brother, also stopped by with a swollen ankle he got from jumping off a small, steep cliff. He's strange, that one. He smiles a lot. Too much? It doesn't seem natural, how is he related to Kashya? I'm going to look for an older courier in Skywatch that resembles Renma, that would explain it.

Lulie came in looking throughly grey around the gills, so to speak. Mavos attended to her but I hear her bemoaning the fact that she ate crawfish quiche. Thankfully I chased the two out before she could paint the clinic's walls with that disgusting concoction

Personal Tidbits

I can hardly keep a steady hand as I write this. I may have tightened the noose around my neck, all thanks to my big mouth. But it's not my fault! How can you simply berate a child into a confession, Khajiit or not? Gods above, the fear in her eyes lit something aflame in myself and I barked at the Dominion Officer like a crazed dog. Daeronil, that's the one. The one that previously asked to accompany me to the market in Skywatch. Enraged how he spoke to Kiri, I insulted the purity of his bloodline. The details are fuzzy, I was seeing red, but I slipped up and said it was a wonder he had previously seemed interested in myself seeing that I'm of mixed blood.

It was meant to wound his pride, to pierce his ego, but with such a double-edged sword, I only hurt myself. I didn't even think about it until Daeronil approached me but a day later with the unwelcoming news that I was to be questioned in relation to my outburst. They're setting the rushes under my feet aflame to see if I scream treacherous ideas. The mer is nothing short of a serpent, only when his eyes flash and that unsettling smile cross his lips for the briefest of moments do you know it's too late.

There is no one to trust let alone turn to in this but myself. Adsomar won't even look in my direction, let alone talk to me. I love Wraesha but I fear that any gold offered for information could sway her interests. That goes for many in Shattered Grove. I've worked hard to establish myself as a competent, trustworthy healer but it could be ruined if word gets out of my Maormer ancestry. Though I suppose that fear could be extinguished if I am found guilty and sentenced to death. Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better.

I've hidden the totems to Satakal under a loose stone by the hearth, just in case.

Forgive me Auri-El, you are not always enough.

The Fourteenth of Frostfall; Moons: Waxing Crescent; Mood: Melon-Collie (is that how you spell it? I hate the common tongue!)

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Nixiad wings
- Scales from a Summerset sep adder
- Plumage from a peacock, not a peahen!

No wonder people think of me as a witch

Patient Notes

Sarasha and Thelin were given a physical by Wraesha. It went as well as you'd imagine it to. She's a good friend. I hope she thinks I'm a good friend too.

Personal Tidbits

I'm uncertain why, but I tried something that I haven't done since I was a child. While soaking in the tub this evening, I dipped lower and lower until the water was over my head. I could almost hear my grandmother trying to scream above the gulls from the beach to swim back shore. That I was too far out. She had a deep, bitter fear that I was able to breath underwater like the Maormer. That I would let myself sink until I hit the bottom and spend the rest of my life wandering through the kelp forests

I've never been sure if it was a myth to keep Altmer children close to shore or if there was truth to it.

Maybe fifteen seconds later, if that, I came up for air. Was it because I'm too much of a 'land-walker' and not Maormer enough? Or did I get too anxious and lose focus? There was more water on the floor then there was in the tub when I came back up. I was too desperate for air. Really, I'm uncertain how long I stayed in that nearly empty tub, I'm fairly certain I fell asleep at some point.

But it would be nothing short of a blatant lie to say I don't want to try again. To just walk into the ocean and start anew. Romanticizing my Maormer roots and the possibility of a death from drowning, surely. But sometimes it's nice to imagine relinquishing my earthly burdens and sit at the bottom of the sea.

Reminders

- Don't trust Daeronil even if he has a nice smile and [the rest of what was written has been violently scribbled out]
- Try to say one nice thing to everyone you see tomorrow
- Don't walk into the ocean just because you can!

I want to be left alone.

The Fifth of Last Seed; Moons: Waxing Crescent; Mood: I am uncertain how to describe it other than saying my heart is heavy

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Pennyroyal
- Patience

Patient Notes

Alena's nose was broken by Cantose, I set it before it could begin to heal at an angle or otherwise. Suffered from contusions on her face as a result of the incident but I didn't find any symptoms of a concussion. She still needs to pay her bill and says she will do so in one week's time when she gets paid for whatever it is she's good for.

Removed several fragments of glass from Bhidul's face as a result of being hit in his facial region from a bottle of liquor. I didn't charge him as he picked up where I left off in beating Cantose's arse.

Personal Tidbits

I found you, dear diary! Lodged under my bed, I don't recall how you slipped under there but I'm pleased nonetheless. At least that is something to be happy about, for I've found little else to smile about in recent weeks.

Athellwil is gone often, away at sea fighting for Pyandonea's cause. He tries to visit often but it's difficult to arrange such meetings, truly, they've become something of a rarity. Arranged marriages and arranged marriages in which one's partner is away for weeks at a time are not for the weak hearted, one must be strong. When he does visit, we go straight to bed as to conceive a child.

My frustrations stem not in that I am unable to see him very often, for I don't know him well enough to truly care. But rather that I'm not yet pregnant. I've tried tinctures, folk remedies, prayers to Dibella, and yet I remain as a barren as a farmer's fields in Winter. There is little I want more than to be a mother.

Hearing Kashya speak of Lilin or seeing Lucrezia with her infant only makes my heart ache for my failings. [Tears have fallen onto the rest of the entry and obscured the writing.]

The Fourteenth of Last Seed; Moons: Waxing Gibbous; Mood: [There's a doodle of a heart]

Running out or am out of the following ...

- Wolfsbane oil [Order from Alijham] The irony of it all.
- Ash of a mountain ash tree
- Sujamma

Patient Notes

- Sold a four different variations of love potions to a lovesick Bosmer bar maiden. She told me that he 'beloved' is some mysterious, smooth-talking Altmer with eyes that, "shine like the sun." Bah. I told her those were a drake are a dozen out here but she wouldn't hear of it. If anything, I seem to have offended her. I'm shocked, truly. In any case, I told her to slip one drop of each into his flin and it should increase his affections. Or it'll make him break out in a rash. I was paid in advance so I don't really care.

- PAY ME ALENA. Honestly, I've given her more than enough time. I'm going to start removing one of her fingers each day she continues to leave me penniless.

Personal Tidbits

Alijham told me he loved me and then transformed into a werewolf. He's so dramatic. I didn't suspect anything though! I mean, I expected he loved me, of course. Why wouldn't he, I'm a beautiful, virtuous starry-eyed maiden and I'm also not fooling anyone. He acted like his penis was an engagement ring for that drunken one-night stand so long ago! I think the fuck not. I rejected his affections and friendship over the werewolf matter of which is truly upsetting. He's a good friend when he's not faking his own death. I'm uncertain what to do, Renma is very much against him as anyone would be.

Renma.

He's so dreamy.

When I'm in his company, it seems that my troubles melt away if only for the time-being. It's only when we kiss that the searing thought of Athellwil burns within. The distrust and betrayal. I try to push away the guilt because there's nothing wrong with this little thing we have between us. It's just for fun!

Right?