Beyond Skyrim:Cyrodiil/The Collected Works of Miki Aia

Book Information The Collected Works of Miki Aia
Added by	Beyond Skyrim: Cyrodiil
ID	xx0C8851
	30		1
Type	4
Locations
Found in the following locations: Bruma Synod Conclave Jerall View Inn, upstairs White Pine Lodge, after purchasing the study upgrade

The Collected Works of Miki Aia

by Martilla Arentis (editor)

A collection of poignant poems by Miki Aia, reflecting on nature, loss, and divine inspiration

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The Collected Works of Miki Aia

Collected and Edited by Martilla Arentis

Foreword by Galtero Caron

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iki Aia was a court bard who resided in Cheydinhal at the end of the Third Era, although she was known to travel throughout most of Nibenay. Very little is known of her early life, though most records point to her being fostered by a wealthy Nibenese family. She was hired by Count Andel Indarys to celebrate his wife, the Lady Llathasa Indarys' birthday in 3E 430, and was kept on for the next three years until her death at the start of the Oblivion Crisis. While most accounts claim she was killed by Daedra during the crisis, others attribute her death to suicide. Collected in this volume are the poems that survive her.

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oday the sun peaked out
from a hiding place behind or perhaps around the clouds
It shone on a fresh snowfall from the night before
I took off my shoes
And pressed my toes into the ground
It was as soft as a mother
And cold as death
And somehow that juxtaposition
Felt right
***

press my tongue on your forehead
In the center of your forehead
Where a jewel should lie sleeping
I have only one to give
A garnet, polished from years at sea
A heart that is not much
Battle-scarred and worn
But I have only one to give ***

here is a voice in the forest
It sounds rather like a mother
Who has lost her child
Bordered by the warble of songbirds
And the inane babble of mindless brooks
There is a voice in the forest
It sounds rather like a child
Who has lost their mother
Accompanied by the drumbeat of footfalls
And the the [sic] drip-drip of melting ice
There is a voice in the forest
And I must answer ***

can hear her footfalls
They are thunderstorms in my ears
Awesome and terrible
Her breath becomes wind
And I am leaves upon the wind
Blown about
Scattered upon rocks
Or perhaps I am chaff
Bending and bowing to her voice
Mara, Dibella, Kynareth
You who are most Holy
When you fashioned us
From Mud and Maple and Starlight
Why would you make her straight?