Adelein Gardinier Rainās Hand 4E 203,
Northglen varies little from my recollections, perhaps suspended in a stasis of my childhood. Oddly, everything felt so much taller, so much wider. Halcyon Lake used to appear like an endless mirror of water before my eyes, but now I feel like the tiny island is a decent strideās away. An alteration spell could take me to that forlorn rise of ancient Aylied arcs if I felt curious enough to exploreāand I admit having the temptation to do so.
The wind from Hammerfell blows in, harkening a spring that brings verdant life to every sleeping trees. The sun is much brighter here, even after a night of snowfall in Skyrim when the white drifts settle beneath a cerulean noon sky. Wearing sleeves over my arms is increasingly uncomfortable, but necessary in concealing the deadric branding. A few of the locals jest at my choice in attire, but no further questioning arises. I do not seem to be recognizable.
All is well, from what I hear rumor of, though Iāve come to learn that I shouldnāt worry about you. Edmond Descoteaux must have made his acquaintance as expected, hearing that the name Gardinier dropped over a steel trap. Townspeople have even asked for his public opinion and the man simply stated that the name is a false identity. He looks in your direction however, seeking answers when a crow picks at the eagleās tail. You should know where I am when his gaze is turned, yes?
Interestingly enough, I found that his relationship with his sisterāmy motherāwas very close, or at least painted to be. I have a strong suspicion that he wasnāt truly benevolent towards her, it wouldnāt be consistent to the experiences we have had with family thus far. Though I am aware that this proves nothing. Her death was announced a few days after my so-called abduction by House Telvanni, a very convenient time frame for one that was so reluctant to take a seat of power. He must have not known about me, perhaps my father at least did good by that. I would have been his next target.
Cossette was wed to my father, my father found dead, an opportunity brewed like a flash storm on the horizon. Instead of manipulating his sister through a political marriage, he now had to take the reins himself. Perhaps she didnāt wish to be apart of this, but Edmond insisted. I made this entire vision of his possible with one swift movement of a scalpelā¦
Which brings me to the realization of how I must end it. If the title of High Lord truly belongs to me by rite of blood, and Edmond was only riding upon my actions, he is the one who must step down. I suppose I canāt make any assumptions yet but something assuring stirs within my mind. Iām not entirely sure what it is but it feels intensely right to follow. Do you think I should follow it?
Sometimes I feel like I wish I had been able to take my fatherās memories like I had with others. Thereās a strange ghost of him following me; figuratively, that is. Unless these crows are some manifestation of that. Iām not entirely sure about them, but againā¦I sense benevolence. My mind has been stable, but the being is still there. I can use Hermaeus Mora to unwittingly give me answers when I need.
Thinking of you, Songbird.
