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Egg-brother,
Eel broth lingers on my tongue as I write. The good kind, mind. Scoop it up with saltrice, and I could hear the trees whisper. This close. Smell the water, breath in my gills. The muck. The marsh breathing. And then I think of you. How do you and Eilan bear this open sky? Too light around the edges, and spare. And this meat like leather, over-ripe. I know to make sweet-rolls and skin deer and pour mead. And you know to-. So I suppose I bear it too. I shouldn’t assume it is the open sky you and I share, no matter how our sister thinks of it. Like the same quilt, she says. As though we were hatchlings of the same brood. I won’t ask. I’ve learnt that lesson all too well.
I hope you’re eating well. I hope you’re ali well.
--Talen-Jei
*
Egg-Brother,
I drink the sap of not-knowing-why-I-bother-to-lie. Here, to myself, when noone’s looking. There’s an Orphanage, across the street from where I live. The old woman who runs it, a miserable hag. They say she died in her sleep, but I hear different. The guards talk when the mead flows. Found her with her throat slit. Blood everywhere.
It isn’t the broth that makes me think of you.
--Talen-Jei
*
Egg-Brother,
Our mother thinks I’ve grown rootless. Calls me Ojel and yet she takes my money. But you are the pride. She says you feast on Ajum-Ei at the Royal Court. Honest work earns less than that. Asks for more. You wouldn’t know, would you?
Sorry. Sorry. I don’t mean to resent. I never do. How could I, when you and I are of one root? Maybe Mother’s right, and all this salt crawls under my scales and turns me blind from the inside.
And I don’t even know your face. Just your name, Veezara.
--Talen-Jei
*
Egg-Brother,
Do you remember her? I believe as I was told. The night of your hatching was moonless, she says. I’d thought she remembered it endlessly, all day and all night, but now I know better. She forgets, and afraid of forgetting, she makes it anew each time. Says it out loud, the night of your hatching, so we could remember it after. The only detail unchanging is this; you were taken. You were gone. She holds you tighter than she does us.There is no struggle in keeping us. No letting go.
I wonder if it’s why we left, Eilan and I. It doesn’t work. First of her brood, first of her losses, first in her pride. Does your new Mother think the same of you? Does she love you so?
--Talen-Jei.
*
Easy for you, isn’t it, to be paid twice as much as I’ll make in a lifetime? Your kind plunders and raids, and we’re left to scrape a living from the remainder. Does it make you happy, that you never have to think of us? Of needing to be decent?
That’s the lay of the land, isn’t it brother? Whatever pretty name you give what hands down your orders, money owns the blades. The Thieves Guild can come here uninvited, plunder what they like. Doesn’t matter what their hold is, doesn’t matter if the ragged imbecile they sent had eaten and drank and taken of our hospitality the day before. I’ll never understand but I know you can. It’s why they take you so young; so you wouldn’t know a brother if you’re asked to slay him.
We work until our backs break and our scales split for what? For the next depraved lunatic with a hankering for our lives to come tear it down all over again. And you choose this everyday. I wonder if it shames you. I wonder if it hurts when the leash tugs.
I hope it does.
*
Egg-brother,
Shouting to the Void gets no answers except what I already know. You don’t answer. I do. Still, futile-is-this-fight, Veezara. It’s no fun tussling with a brother who isn’t here. If you have sorrow the Hist knows it. Your Mother does. I’ll know it too then, when I return to the root.
The Thieves Guild pays a visit and all I know is bile. They threatened Keerava. Her family is mine.
I feel as though I should explain, but you’ll only ever read this in my head. And if you’re there, egg-brother, you’d know her well.
--Talen-Jei
*
I have a letter from our sister. She has business here, on her “Captain’s” behalf. If she comes looking, do not answer. Do NOT answer. You don’t know her. Do not take what she offers. She is hatched hungry for home. You see, it wasn’t much of a home at the time of her hatching.
*
Veezara,
Travellers come from Solitude. Saw a shadow-dark Argonian there, at the wedding. Not you. You’re back home. Can’t be you. Tell me it was wasn’t you. Somehow, anyhow. You could slip away. Did it have to be there, in broad daylight? What if you were caught?
How could you? That poor girl.
--Talen-Jei.
*
Eilan was there. At the wedding. She fights for it to be you. She does not know what she asks. Or maybe she does. All her life spent in searching for someone, and always she knew where I was. Sailors. They think every delve is worth it.
We break marsh-bread and eel-broth. I miss home. Do you?
*
Egg-brother,
I am going mad. The Hist has given us a living ghost in place of a brother. If you’re alive. I don’t know, I hope you are. People have died every day, but this season brings a bitter knowledge. There are whispers about on the streets, since the wedding. And every dire plot brings the scent of home. I want it to be a figment of my thoughts. But roots are not severed so easily, I fear. I feel as though I should know. I feel as though I must not.
There is something I must tell Mother. Maybe it will help. I wish I knew what it was.
--Talen-Jei
*
Egg-brother,
Dragons hadn’t crossed the Rift until this evening. I barely saw it before we ran for cover. We sat trembling. It did not touch us. This is all I will know. It’s dark wings were enough to swallow the sky. A glimpse of the Shadow. Perhaps the Hist reminds me. You were reared in it’s cold heart.
I’m silent in relief. And you’re silent in return. You or your absence, I can’t say. It isn’t empty. Eilan agrees. She feels your hollow as yours. A shape, a sound, a scent. It is enough to live, says my brother-ghost. It is enough to live.
-Talen-Jei.
*
Egg-brother,
Does the Hist hold who you might have been? All time is one there. Mother weaves. Beneath other stars, there is another dark hatchling beside me, trailing Mother’s baskets. We boil rice and we weave and you grow whistling songs in the fading light. I imagine a voice for you, like mine, but softer. My brother is gentle beneath his other stars. You answer Mother’s berating with something that makes her laugh.
I’m tired. Dreamt so long of her happiness. Mine stands before me. She orders me to set the table. We have a busy night ahead.
-Talen-Jei
*
Veezara,
As it turns out, I’d known Eilan’s “Captain”all this time. Even you must hear of the Dragonborn. I hope you share no business with Azadeh Al-Watan. Well-born and noble at heart. They hold each other as brood.
Our sister has sympathy for you. She knows choicelessness well, she says. And I thought, lies. She chose the leaving, the open sky. I do not begrudge her that. Choice, Veezara. I will confess this; as the second of mother’s hatchlings I envied the stars chose you, and not me. I hound the world for scraps of life, and yours lifted you to the night at your hatching. Still, Eilan shames me. The chosen, she says, are choiceless.
Azadeh spoke of it. She does not curse the Gods. She swears she will walk towards the end as she is. Perhaps you do the same. Each day you choose your murks and your Mother, and I my rice and flowers. Let me live with it.
They left me a gift, before they left. I could hardly believe they remember: three amethyst. The sun sets, and I must get to Madesi before he closes. I write all this for I’m shocked to know I struggle with certainty. Does it run in the root?
Keerava knows of you and the Void. I hesitated once. Then I swore it will not touch her.
You must have lovers too. Do you shudder at what it will cost? I am free of that, at least. Of your terrible, chosen costs.
“Now you must.” Eilan tells me. “Now you have no excuse.” I walk towards it as I am. I shake like a leaf, egg-brother. If you would, wish me luck.
--Talen- Jei
*
Veezara,
I marry beneath the first rains. She makes amethysts shine like stars.
I know what I must tell Mother. Her hatchlings are home, I’ll write. They are home, saltrice and eel-broth in their bellies, roots and muck to their scales, and safe. There’s a pulse in me, an unfurling. You must feel it too.
-Talen-Jei
*
Veezara,
If our eggs hatch under the Shadow, I won’t
***
My brood,
Eel broth lingers on my tongue as I write. The good kind, mind. Scoop it up with saltrice, and I could hear the trees whisper. This close. Smell the water, breath in my gills. The muck. The marsh breathing. And then I think of you. The Family does not like the taste so much, but they share with eagerness. A hungry lot, always. This work leaves you craving.
I hear my sister has been less than discreet. There’s no need to be afraid. She turned her questions elsewhere, and never gave her true name. No one has spoken my name in its way since I left. Vee-za-ra. Argonians of these lands take names easier on other tongues. I’ve toyed with it. Swims-at-Night. Counts-the-Stars. Sings-Softly. Looks-to-East. Longs-for-Marshes. All of it. Everything. Vee-za-ra. But I keep what the brood has given me. I left with that alone. Shadow and scale.
And you. I hadn’t known until now how I carried you. Absence.A shape, a sound, a scent. I’ve no delusions, and I know my place and my home and my Mistress. The Family speaks no Jel. My thoughts are yours alone, you who live in me, searching. If I follow my name to its Root, will I find it’s giver? I try to picture it, you, you, and a mother, and I come up with nothing. I don’t think much of the shape of lives. You prune that thought before it flowers to poison. There is only death and life. It is enough that we live.
You’ll hear of us soon. Something magnificent brews in the Void’s heart. For years we’ve made do with scraps and survival. But tonight the Mother’s dark blood runs in me. Love and glory. Like it did at the wedding. Did you hear of it? There is more. Tomorrow, my Brother meets the Emperor. I’ll say no more to tarnish it.
Crowns, my brood. We deal with crowns again. Now I crave for Ajum-Ei and old chambers. Root beneath my feet, Shadow above. I let myself think of home again. I forgive myself for burying it too poorly. The old songs are as blood to me, the old training clings to my scales. I seek the-cool-of bubbling-pools. Perhaps the Hist reminds me. I walk towards it as I am. If you would, wish me luck.
Everything changes tomorrow. The reward will overflow our Sanctuary. There will be more Sanctuaries then. And more. The Family will flourish, with none brave enough to stop us. And someday, when my Family needs nothing more I’ll gather hatchlings to my side, and return with them. Shadow and scale, as I left. Egg-brother, egg-sister, my life will announce itself. When it finds its way to you, you’ll feast of Sithis’ abundance.
Sweet city, Solitude. I remember each shadow, each crevice, each parapet. The Family has left no stone unturned. My Brother asks for my advice, as always he does. I tell him there is nothing to worry about. To prepare for our celebration. The love of the Family is never wasted never wasted.
I am sleepless tonight. There’s a pulse in me, an unfurling. You must feel it too. Is it the Hist or the Mother that calls my name? Wait for me, I say, to Her, to you.
Wait for me.
--Yours,
--Yours
--Yours,
Veezara