[i]2nd Midyear, Afternoon[/i]
[hr] The street was in a state of quiet business. It was mid-afternoon, so many people were working, though Anifaire watched a few hurry about other errands from shop to shop along the street. She reclined on the bench; it was one down the street from the inn, but still in sight if she leaned. It was a comfortable space she'd started frequenting since their arrival in Gilane. The day before, she'd felt nervous as she sat there, trying to relax, but each time a Dwemer passed, she felt as though they knew her part in the prison raid, and she squirmed. She'd returned to the inn room, defeated, and slept away most of the day. The mission had been exhausting in a way she still wasn't used to. 

Under her arm was a small bag, inside some parchment and ink, which she’d purchased with the last of her coins. In the back of her mind, she wondered where she would get money again, but for the time being she tried to put it out of her mind. Perhaps with the letters she intended to write, she could gain some funds, even if it took a long time to arrive. No one seemed interested in dealing with Thalmor bank accounts at the time being, so she’d have to go directly to her parents if she wanted family money. 

But that wasn’t why she had decided to write home. No, that was because of the thought in the back of her mind which she couldn’t fight off since the Imperial City: her family must think her dead in the Dwemer attack. The image of her mother’s devastated face crossed her mind and she frowned. Parchment was expensive, but she couldn’t wait any longer. They’d soon give up on expecting to hear from her. 

She had only two pieces of parchment, so she sat, her leg folded up as a table and her quill hovering over the page, for quite some time, trying to decide what to write. 

Anifaire didn’t know what to tell them.

She considered the things she needed to tell them about: the Expedition; the attack on the Imperial City; the banks refusing her; staying with the group into Gilane, which is occupied by Dwemer. 

But they weren't the only things she wanted to say. There was more: about a Khajiit who was leading the group; or, a strange Argonian who also does Alteration magic; or perhaps kind Nanine and Brynja; or... Alim. She considered their reactions to these tidings, and knew they wouldn't care about the details of this groups' lives. It wouldn't be a priority. 

Her mother was going to worry when she received the tidings, but hopefully she would just be glad of Anifaire's survival. She wondered if they were going to demand she return home, because she had realized recently that she didn't want to yet. 

Pondering over the sorts of things she couldn't say to them, Anifaire finally scribbled a few sentences on the page. Idly, she thought about her elven dagger, once a gift from her parents, now lost somewhere in the Imperial City. She didn't miss it, exactly; it had gotten her strange looks on occasion. Still, she felt like her father would be upset it was misplaced. She wrote out the last few lines of the letter. It had been so long since she'd last put a quill to paper. 

The letter was difficult to write. It felt as though she'd forgotten how to talk to her parents, and each word was difficult to formulate. She kept the letter concise, thinking that at the least they would know she's alive.

She leaned back on the bench, the letter finished, idly toying with the fabric of her new clothes. She smiled, thinking of Alim buying it with a stolen jewel. She could hardly believe he'd really stolen it from someone, but the idea made her laugh a little bit. It seemed like something out of a book. 

The Altmer watched as a Dwemer idled by, not a guard, just a regular Dwemer woman, purchasing foods from a Redguard vendor. It was a fascinating sight she'd never thought she'd see in her life, however simple the interaction. She'd never expected to find modern cultures as interesting as she did historical ones - research in those areas was negligible in the Dominion - but somehow, she did. [i]Yes,[/i] she thought. [i]I like Gilane.[/i] [hr][i]Dear Father and Mother, 

My apologies for the delay in writing to you. I have been through a tumultuous series of events. 

The events began when I signed on with an expedition into a Dwemer ruin. After the expedition ended, I returned to the Imperial City in the company of the rest of the expedition group, and when the city was attacked, I was able to flee with the help of the same group, specifically an Altmer named Durantel has been helpful in watching out for me. 

From there, we ended up in Anvil for several days. While I was there, the bank refused to honor my signet ring and I was left without funds. I stayed with this group and I am now in Gilane, which is under the control of a Dwemer faction. 

I am safe and it seems that so long as I remain with the expedition group, I have been able to eat and have a bed to sleep on. Still, any help you could provide with the banks would be helpful. 

Please pass on my greetings and well wishes to Saurelar and Valisara. How is Cirendar? [/i]

The bottom of the letter was signed 'Anifaire Mirlinde' in nearly illegible handwriting, and across the front of the sealed letter, the destination was printed: Aronar Mirlinde, Alinor, Summerset  Isles.