My friends fill the Shining Star Inn: Minstrel Idria, who plays for me the stolen lute I returned, found deep in a cave Bernt, Nehilda, and the patrons of the Everfull Flagon, who never fail to thank me for the release I helped them choose Hayya, the innkeeper, who always saves a loaf of bread for me, thick, warm, and smelling of sourdough.Įveryone in the Hollow City has lost–someone, something. For there, I have friends who light up when they see me, and for a wandering soul like mine, that is a treasure worthy of traveling to Oblivion and beyond. And then, a place like that–a battlefield where the fight was won, despite the cost–becomes a type of home.Īnd the Hollow City, even more. For when we discover our soul, having lost it–or believing we had–when we follow our path to safety, to the restoration of heart and home, when we walk dark roads with those we trust, we find, in the quiet moments, that we long for the place where we knitted our trust with ally and friend.
It might seem strange that I would choose to return to the place where I sat beside the Last Ayleid King, until he breathed no more, where I saw Darien fade into golden light, where friends lost limb and life to clanfear, daedra, and dremora.īut I am more like Cadwell than I admit: At times, Coldharbour feels like home. I travel often to Coldharbour, for that’s where the Hollow City lies, Meridia’s city, a heart in the midst of a heartless realm.
