We moved down the river about a mile to a small fishing village. There is some form of illness that has claimed the lives of a number of children here. Inifra has spent the day investigating, but has yet to guess at the cause. It is nice to be among people again, and it makes sense to wait here. Much easier for our companions to find a village than the two of us alone in hiding.
Where are they, though? The path couldn’t have come out more than ten miles south of here, and is likely closer than that. Why has it taken them so long to reach us? As soon as I am strong enough it will grow tempting to try and find them instead of staying put.
But remaining in one place, as agreed, is the best chance we have of seeing them again.
We are off Salisir’s trail in any case. The last clue we had was that he had gone north, above the cliffs. It’s possible he came down here after that, possible even that he made it all the way to Matasten. But as unlikely as our survival has been, his was even less likely.
I realize now that it is probable that we will never find the proof of his death that I crave. Even should we follow our clues, at some point they will stop coming. Whether he died between destinations, or the last to see him alive have died as well, there would have come a time when we came up short. There would have been an end to this path with no further guesses or legends to follow.
And then what?
We would have to make a decision then much as we must do now. Do we move to Matasten to search out the source of these Daedric rumors, or choose some other path? My sense of duty screams for Matasten. My pity calls for the aid of the Nantese before me. My heart… I have given up trying to guess at what my heart desires.
What do we have before us now but a village in need? We can tend to them for the moment. When Balthandar arrives he will be able to treat their ill as well. We can go from there, to Matasten to find out about this Daedric Prince or just to the next person in need of help. We have been in need many times in this jungle. If it were not for those who helped us along the way we would be dead.
Now it is our turn to do the helping.