-Sun's Dawn, 4th, 4E 202-
My name is Zeicuana (zai - coo - ana) I am a Cathay Khajiit woman, born in elsweyr, spent most of my childhood in High Rock, am twenty-two years of age, and am Dragon Born.
I have been told by my good friends and traveling companions, that I have accomplished quite a bit and will be remembered long after my bones have turned to dust, the first being true, the second is to be seen.
As I think to myself, if the second is true and there is no written records of exactly what I have accomplished, I fear that my ''exploits'' may be embellished and dissolute in future generations, which is why I have decided to begin keeping this journal, and hopefully future historians won't be scratching their heads trying to pick apart truth from legend.
I will try to be as humble as I possibly can for what I have done, and would like to reinforce that not all of what I have done has been accomplished solely by myself, because such feats would not have been possible without the help of countless individuals whom I will do my best to name as many as possible. Some being good companions, guards, and sometimes passer byes who happened to be near me at the right place, at the right (or arguably wrong) time.
I suppose I should give a more detailed account of my upbringing as historians are always interested in these sorts of things. I believe that the ''here and now'' is what is important but I digress.
My entire family is dead, killed by mostly the thalmor but most of this was before my time.
To really explain the bad blood that is between, or, was between my family and the thalmor I have to go all the way back to my great grandparents. My great grandda was named Ehi'bano born Ohmes in 4E 82 and my grandma Meh'zana was born 4E 85 a Surthay-raht. In 4E 98 the Void Nights took place, a period of time when the moons disappeared, Khajiit worship the moons so you can imagine this didn't go over very well. My great grandmother and father were employed under the Elswyr Confederacy and were two of the many tasked with investigating the disappearance, this is also where they first met. I don't know what they did, I don't know what they discovered but, in 4E 100 the moons reappeared and the Aldmeri Dominion took responsibility and Elswyr rejoiced, but my grandmother and father continued to investigate the disappearances of the moons and the Dominions role in bringing them back on their own accord.
But, in 4E 115 a coup against the Empire allianced government by Aldmeri Sympathizer's took place and the Elswyer Confederacy collapsed and was replaced by two kingdoms which were and are extension's of the Aldmeri Dominion. This is also the year that my grandfather Gre'hzano was born Cathay while his brother Sb'anian was born two years later a tojay.
Sometime in 4E 128 in the middle of the night my great grandparents were taken in the middle of the night by thalmor judiciars and never seen again. My Grandfather and his brother evaded capture by hiding under the house, after they left and some time had passed, they fled to an old family friends house where they spent the rest of their childhood and swore vengeance against the thalmor. Gre'hzano joined the Imperial Legion as soon as he was old enough while Sb'anian joined the blades and went to Valenwood.
In 4E 145 my grandfather met my grandmother Siirina an Ohmes-raht while on leave from the army and in 147 my father, Shash'ano was born an Ohmes-raht, his brother Ler'ano was born a Cathay-raht the next year. My Father joined the Legion when he came of age, his brother also joined the Legion.
In 4E 169 my brother Gre'hano was born an Ohmes-raht, and in 4E 171, the Great war started, my grandas brother, Sb'anian was killed by the thalmor and my father, grandfather, and uncle went off to fight, but kept in touch and sent letters home which we would reply to, they could never really say anything about the war, but my father and my brother would make up for lost time as much as they could through them. My uncle Ler'ano was killed in battle defending the city of Skaven in Hammerfell in 173, my grandfather, Grazano was killed helping defend the imperial city in 174, my Grandfathers brother, Sbanian a member of the blades, was killed right at the beginning of the war. My Father returned home in 4E 174 honorably discharged for substantial injuries in battle. He had his left hand cleaved off by an Aldmeri soldier in battle and was struck by an aldmeri mage's lightning bolt through the right thigh.
When he returned this is when he and my mother Cis'halo, well, you know. But after his leg had recovered, he went off again to join back up with his company. My brother told me that my mother begged him not to go, but he said that that us and Nirn will never be safe until the Dominion and thalmor are stopped. She persisted with how he had no left paw, and he replied ''I will strap a shield to my left arm and fight with my right. If they chop my arm's off I'll strap a danmed axe to my head'' He went back off to join back up with the legion and was killed in battle retaking the imperial City. You may be wondering, how I can be twenty two if my mother was pregnant in 175 and the year being 202? Well, I wasn't born in 175 or 176, I was born in 4E 179.
After the war ended, my mother was devastated from my father's death, it was even tougher for my brother, being the only cub in town without one to call father, my mother showed signs of being pregnant with me, a Breton man named Evictous Flaninton who recently moved to the village, comforted my mother in those tough times, and was a good friend for my brother, my brother always said no one could ever replace our father, but it's good to have Evictous there.
After five months I stopped moving in the womb, after some time it came clear to everyone that I was dead, but my poor mother denied this. Evictous comforted my mother and brother every chance he had, telling my brother to just let my mother take her time. If Evictous hadn't been I can't imagine what could have happened since the family was looked down upon in the village for having family members who fought with the legion.
But after three years of laying dormant in the womb, my mother later told me she had an intense dream of a snow kissed woodlands, she was walking along a stone road, it wasn't her but another khajiit women but she couldn't recognize who. A large black shadowy monster came thundering out of the forest going straight for the woman, but instead of running the woman unsheathed a weapon and charged the mass, she woke up as the woman jumped and brought her weapon crashing down upon the beasts head. She said it was the most intense dream she ever experienced, everyone else believed it was a product of trying to cope with her extreme misery. But she meditated for a week trying to understand the meaning of the dream, and on the eighth morning after the dream when she sat cross legged on the warm sands under the rising sun with her eyes closed in deep meditation, she felt an extremely strong kick from me, so strong her whole body jolted from the force and her eyes snapped open with an ''oof!''
After a month I was born, everyone in the family was shocked as village was too, even though I was only growing in the womb for a total of around 6 months, the village shaman told my mother I looked like a late born cub, and the strongest one he had ever seen at that.
This was I think how I became dragon born I believe though I can't be sure when, I don't know if I was dragon born when my mother was first impregnated, or if it came before or after those years of being still, am I the original soul of the the khajiit woman I am? I know that you don't have to be khajiit in order to be dragon born, if I wasn't dragon born and someone else was, say a long blond haired nord, would I be me or would I be the nord? I sometimes imagine what it would be like to be another race and be me, but a different me, how much would I be different, I imagine there are thousands, maybe even millions of reality's where I am another race, with different state of mind or different views. I have the soul of a Dragon, so I suppose inside I am just a Dragon in khajiit form, and when I think and say this I can't really describe but it feels right. Similar to how it's hard to describe the smell of certain things to people who aren't khajiit I suppose.
Of course this is what I felt to some level growing up, not that I was a dragon mind you, but that I was something more, but hesitant to explore this idea, I thought maybe I was dragon born in khajiit form between when I slayed my first, and when the Greybeards confirmed my suspicion but I am getting ahead of myself.
I have few a few memories of my early childhood, there were of course celebrations I remember in the village, the town bazaar would be decorated. There would be little traditional rituals done involving the moons but it has been so long I can't remember any details. I remember though the thalmor justicars. I didn't think anything of it at the time, Just guards making sure no crimes were committed. But I remember there were already guards. The justicars were different, they were not local, never advertised their presence, just usually sat alone quietly by themselves in the back of a room or leaning against a wall in the alley behind the bazaar, just listening.
I had a good life socially among the other villagers until around the age of six or seven. Up to that point I had many good hearted friends, we'd play games and so forth. Things little ones do together. But I suppose around that time my fellow younglings began to hear the words of their parents and of where I came from. Forbidding them from playing with me or saying how I was not to be trusted as my family were traitors. I became isolated and was seldom able to hold pleasant conversations with my former friends.
One day I went and asked my grandmother Siirana for help, teary eyed, as my mother would not explain why I was hated. She sat me down in her hut and told me of our family's past as I know it now today. She also told me to keep my mouth shut and the dangers of not doing so. She then made me some treats and we had them together, and stressed not telling anyone of what she told me. I suppose I was a little hesitant of believing what she had told me of the thalmor, but that would change.
I remember my Grandmothers sugar cane farm. She lived a little south of the village and lived alone. I would visit her when out on my hikes. She would make sweets and give me them to bring home. I never once heard her raise her voice in anger, she would of course give me a good talking if I did something bad but that rarely happened. She was proud of me, she didn't need to say it she would tell me how someone shouldn't be praised for something that was expected, but just the same we would sit together sometimes. I would be on my way out and she would ask me to sit with her awhile, so we'd sit together, not saying anything, but that unspoken sense of kindness as we sat and admired the day was one of my most fond memories of my life in the village she was quite a laugh at times as well.
As I digress, I lived for nine years in the village, until 4E 188 when my brother was arrested, he had been with a trusted friend when he told him that he would soon go off to join the Legion, someone had overheard this and word spread. And a week later he was grabbed.
He was falsely charged with the murder of an Aldmeri soldier who was mysteriously killed two nights before, there was no evidence of my brother committing the murder, ''but this man was planning on running off and joining the force its nation had fought against, he was capable of anything.'' My brother was no weakling or baby, but he had a pure heart. He was in fact softer spoken than me at times. He would never commit murder, he was planning on joining the Legion not to be a soldier but to be a healer on the battlefield if a war started.
He was found guilty at the hearing, my mother and grandmother, who had moved in with us a few years back from working sugar cane in her progressing age, wept. Even Evictous could not hold back grief, he covered his eyes and turned red, I felt like a strong house on a small island in a huge storm, it's walls slammed on all sides with waves, I locked my teeth as I felt as if a stone was lodged in my throat as the ruling came, blood was shooting through my body and I felt as if I could pull a tree right out of the ground, we were not allowed to visit him before his execution.
I was forbidden by my family to see it, though I could hear the crowds that had gathered for it from our home, a low rambling, then jeers and shouting as I imagined they took him out into sight, then rising in volume as it progressed, I couldn't help but listen closely and imagine, the rambling turned quieter except for distinct shout outs of individual insults I couldn't make out. Then ranting and shouting which was followed by a sharp turn from angry shouts and snarls to hoorays and hurrahs. I felt as if my insides were being twisted. I whimpered in my room all night until Evictous came in and embraced me rocking me back and forth slowly as I let out my full misery deep into his shoulder. ''Let it all out, it'll be alright,'' he said and finally after what felt like an eternity I cried myself out and went out like a candle in the wind.
The next day I oddly felt fine, strong even, everyone else sat around the house in a reanimated corpse like state of sorrow but I felt taller.
A month went by and things had begun to go back to normal though a grey cloud still hung over my mother. The other villagers would seldom even look in any of our direction but this strangely made no impact on me. I suppose since this was my first encounter of death and also loosing someone you care about I should have felt worse, but after my brother's death I had that first night after to grip it, but then and now have a full grasp on emotions and am never in any state low mood other than sorrowful reflection. Certainly proved a useful trait the day I found my family slain.
It was a year after Gre'hanos execution some of the villagers decided they had enough of our views on government and took matters into their own hands, I'm surprised they didn't decide to do it after the great war. I was on a camping trip alone when they took my grandmother, mother, and Evictous from the house and lit it ablaze, I had been taught how to camp by Evictious when I was maybe five, it was one of our bonding times, Gre'hano would come along but wasn't as interested as me, I would watch intently as he would teach me the different knots and how to tell which direction was north from the stars and so forth, he had been a traveling merchant before settling down in Elswyer and coming to my mother to help raise me and Gre'hano.
I was proficient enough at living in the wilderness by the time I was eight, us khajiit are more tuned at this naturally regardless but I was extremely proficient at it, so my family allowed me to go on trips unsupervised, as long as our village was not beyond the horizon. This is of course when I would also visit my grandmother when she didn't live with us. I even took the time to read books about wildlife in other parts or tamriel.
It was late afternoon almost twilight when I saw smoke rising from the location of our house, I immediately realized what had happened, we had received the occasional insult or low balled threat after my brothers execution but nothing solid.
Evictous would often raise his concerns about remaining in the village even before Gre'hano's execution, but my mother would always say that our ancestors have lived in elswyer forever, she would appreciate Evictouses concerns but say that things would eventually get better. I suppose she was proven the fool in the end.
I didn't even take time to collect my things from my campsite, I turned, saw the smoke on the horizon and instantly lept to the ground from my tree and started running.
When I was on these trips sometimes I would camp in the Bosmer fashion like how Evictous had taught me the way he used to camp when he was a caravaneer, and switch to just natural khajiit tree climbing, eating fruits and nuts, catching prey, or a little of both, comparing and contrasting the two.
I can still remember the glow of the flaming house in which we lived, I ran all the way home, the sun had gone down and when I could see my house it illuminated the landscape of sand all around it, like a huge lantern, the night was pitch black that night, neither moons nor stars.
I lost everything in that fire, any belongings I had, my brothers letters to and from our father from during the war being really the only true material loss of value. Though they are not truly lost for they are etched in my mind, the only connection to my father, some afternoons I would just pour myself over them, memorizing every word, how my father's handwriting was slightly tilted to the right like a wind blew on the letters and they bended to its will, his thoughts and love for my brother and mother. Daydreaming into the night of what he would think of me.
I scoured the desert all night for my family, our house blazing and disintegrating in the distance, I was not scared or horrified or anything of the like which surprised myself considering the situation I was in, I considered, between calling out their names.
I found them at first light, their lifeless bodies dragged into a shallow ditch, their heads gutted out from the face and filled with stones. Bits of skull, blood and brain everywhere.
So there I stood over them my mother, grandmother, and Evictous as the first beams of light shot across the dunes. I could hear the land coming to life in the air around me. Birds chirping like they would always do, the flowers in the plantlife seemed so bright and vibrant that morning, The wilderness going on about it's buisness completely ignorant of the blood that had been spilled.
I wasn't sad, but reflecting. Part of me had known this would be their fate and I suppose I fully accepted it. I don't know why, it felt like an UN-authentic emotion but I felt nothing else. I imagined myself laying there with them there. It was a sudden thought but I couldn't shake the image from my head. My small fraimed bloodied body broken and twisted and snaped and laid in a heap. The realization that regular desert dwellers were willing to do something so cruel to another just because they are evil.
I knew exactly what my next steps would be, when Evictious would talk about moving, he would always mention his sister in Daggerfall, he kept in touch with her and they wrote to each other often, just mail between each other would take a very long time to reach each other understandably. The woman's name was Veruna. Evictous described her as being bosmer like himself. Fair fraimed, light brunette hair, who ran a mill in the wilderness outside Daggerfall some. Was a trained bard and would occasionally play at the local inn.
I was hoping to find a single woman, with a very general description which most of the population fell under, in a largely populated area on the other side of the continent, I thought to myself.
The villagers left them in a shallow grave so that the sands would bury them, I took note of the grave's position in correlation to the smoldering remains of our house in case I ever return. I decided not to move them in fear that the villagers would return and see they were moved by no one else other than me, realize they had missed one, and come after me trying to make me share their fate.
I then started walking back to my camp to collect my supplies, I would certainly need it.