Blackwater Islands driftwood

If the woman thought Maegi was going to let nonsensical niceties assuage her fears, she had another thing coming. The Melonii had been through too much shit over too many seasons to take it lying down.

Your name, she hissed. Her gaze focused sharply on that one indigo orb. I may not know who you are, but I know what you are. That eye is the color of my brother's. My cousins'. My daughter. Who are you to me?

She shook her head, muttering Daedric obscenities under her breath. The Speaker, she echoed. That's some old Blackfeather Woods nonsense if I ever heard it—

What was happening? Where was she? And why did this woman speak to her as if she were still a child?

Maegi's first life had been bad enough; she sure as hell didn't want this "second life" suddenly thrust upon her.