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yarti · 3 years

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[ Fannah ] - [ Making Things Right ]

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Story Below:

It had been a long day and I had let my emotions get the better of me. But such outbursts were not my reason for stopping Fanar here in the hall. Wiping away the last of my tears, it seemed the proper time. "You remember my disappearance right?" I began. He nodded, yawning and resting against the doorframe. "Well, back then, I saw something that may be related to the things you told us about. I shared my story with Grandfather and he thought it best to keep it to myself. I SPECIFICALLY asked if I could at least tell you, but no. He didn't put much faith in it, but it is relevant now. So if I could pry you away from your "to-be" for a little longer, I would appreciate your ear. I've never been one to do as I'm told anyway." He chuckled to himself. "The grand tale long-teased."

"Do not call it grand, you'll do naught but stress me out. It is hard enough to remember it all without tripping over words and expectations." We ducked into the storeroom, finding it near-frozen and dark. Mother had already snuffed out all but the foyer candles. As we brushed past many a cluttered shelf, Fanar would occasionally lift a glowing palm, leaving a freshly lit wick in our wake. Aunt Cuo's "secret" lab, tucked neatly behind a row of curtains at the first crossroads, hummed softly as ever. I debating having our conversation there for the sake of privacy but feared that it would be too noisy. As we passed under the first arch, Fanar dug through a pocket, pulling out his dark oak pipe, loading it with but a pinch of Elves Ears and snapping a finger to set it alight.

Past the foodstores, I brushed aside a pile of straw and dusted off a fine spot for us to sit below the shelf. "Should that we want a snack" and that I did, immediately pouring myself a bit of honey and taking a few bits of bread for dipping. As I nibbled away, I began my tale. "This will be a bit long-winded and all over the place, but I will try my hardest, Fanar."

He sat quietly, savoring the taste of his vice as I began. "As you know, I was with the Temple in Riften at that time. I had been there a handful of years and had really just began to learn the way of things. Mother had urged me down that path for many a year and in those earliest of days, I had tackled books upon books on the subject. I came to the Temple well aware of what we should be teaching and of the services we would render. But once I arrived and was subjected to their "lessons", their DOGMA, something was very off. At first it confounded me, but such confusions quickly gave way to anger. The head-priestess and I did not see eye to eye, to put it lightly. I dare not speak her name for fear of riling myself further! She and I had traded words on several occasions, threats to have me sent back home were not uncommon. In truth, the people of that Temple do not really worship Mara. Nay, they worship a Cyrodyllic mockery of her. Their vision is more about the sobriety, "good feelings" brought about by marriage, and above all else, fattening their own pockets. Yes, our little Temple was all about coin. She would PUSH for donations and have interested parties pay for their amulets. HIGH BLASPHEMEY! As you know me, every time I caught her out of the room, I would advise visitors in the correct manner and give them amulets for free. The look on her face when she returned and found our entire supply of amulets gone and not a coin in their place is a prized and cherished thing, I'll have you know! Let me ask you, Fanar." I hissed, rising up on my knees and sending an empty honey-bowl soaring across the room. My heated gaze fell upon him no lighter than my words. "Do you think things would have been different should Father have never brought mead to his lips? I think not! He is no drunkard. We have had many a picnic drink ourselves, but would you not consider us good in Her eyes? Is Mother not the very image of Her? She is likewise no stranger to drink. My superior would have the Bee and Barb razed to the ground if not for fear of the wrath that would follow. MUCH DESERVED WRATH! That place is important to Mother and Father, they essentially met there. To think that one who devotes herself to a god of families would hate a place that brought about our very family is just so... so... offensive! If ANYONE knows Mara life, it is I, it is you, it is Mother and Father!"

Fanar brought a finger to his temple. Every screeched word shaking him from his near-slumber as the next pulled him deeper into it. The meat of the story would have to come quicker than I had planned. "I'm sorry, Fanar. I suppose I got a little carried away." My words gave way to slightly more open eyes and the hint of a smile. "NO MATTER. One night after a particularly fiery fight with my superiors, I lay in bed quite frustrated and unable to fall asleep, when a loud fluttering sound outside of the window caught my attention. I opened it and peered out, only to be greeted by the flapping of blue wings. A butterfly, one unlike any I had ever seen. A butterfly, not a moth. It had no business out at night, the curious thing. You know the statue of Mara out in the yard? It was always surrounded by little blue butterflies year round if you'll recall. I have always associated them with Her in a way, so such a sight struck something deep within me. As quietly as I could, I donned my robe, strung satchel and dagger from my belt and slipped into some sandals. I can't believe I forgot to grab a hat or hood. It was storming terribly. Making my way outside, I trudged around the building to get a better look at it."

Fanar studied my every word, occasionally lifting a brow in acknowledgement.

"I tiptoed through the mud of the garden until I found her. She of course fled at the sight of me, but I had my look. There was an unreal dust about her, flaking off of her wings with every bound and clinging to the air for some seconds before being blown away. "Wait, little one!" I called to her with waggling finger for good measure, giving chase as best my sandals would allow in the mud. The butterfly lead me across town square, up and down many a damp stairwell, dockwork and sidewalk-long before flapping high over the south wall. Devastated, I fell to my knees and watched the last of her dancing dust fade into the night. I wanted her. I darted off to the front gate and after lying to the guard that I would be but a moment, found the butterfly a few yards from the gate as though it were waiting for me. Closer and closer, but again, she fled and I did follow. I lost her at the edge of the yellowed woods, bound South and East at that point. Not about to give up, I slipped past many a trunk until I again caught sight of her breathtaking glow. It went on in this way for a few hours. Yes, hours. Through the mud of a fresh rain and the dead of night, in naught but a muddied robe atop sleeping garments, with mud-caked sandals between I and the soaked grass. I have never been lower, but it was for good cause.

We traveled past the border and into Morrowind. My first visit in adulthood was met not with trumpets but with rain and muck."

"It is always like that." Fanar chuckled, emptying the contents of his pipe into the hay pile and giving it a solid stomp to settle it.

"Hours became days, through terrible swamps the whole first day. The first night, I rested beneath a fallen log. "Stay here, please, just until morning", I would whisper in slowly more labored breaths until sleep at last saw fit to snuff out the night. Morning came and I found her dancing about above the log as though she understood and wished to continue our game. From the log, she carried me out of the swamp and to a small town. I sought lodgings and supplies, and with the last of my coin, adorned myself in some Silver armor. My ruined robe would not suffice for the road ahead. The butterfly would always wait just out of view as though she had nothing better to do. When I ran low on supplies, she would lead me to things I could sell or hidden stashes of coin, whether intentional or not. When I was thirsty, it seemed she would always bring me to water. It is odd looking back at it. But after a while, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, but things were not always so simple.

She lead me to danger at times. Vampires, thieves, monsters of every size. You would have been proud of me, Fanar. I tackled them as a true Nord. I would of course avoid bloodshed when possible, as you do. I have not forgotten the times I accompanied you as you worked. When possible I would negotiate or take the stealthy path in chase of Her. When my magicks would cooperate, I would use Invisibility, but as you well know, my Illusionist ways are, for the most part, a thing of the past. Let me just say that there was a great deal of crawling and sneaking. Once the deed was done, She would miraculously lead me to those that they had been plagued, to bounty papers, and into the reward for their end." With that, I held aloft a finger.

"Before you ask, yes, there were times that I turned down their gold as you would do. But this obsession of mine, I could not risk being stranded nor could I stand one more night stuck out in the rain! You will have to forgive me for not being quite so charitable as you, dear Brother." I cackled to myself, kicking my heels against the stone cellar floor. Satisfied with my teasing, I carried on. "By the dawn of the second week, coin was little issue. My Silver armor had grown worn and in it's place, I took a set of Telvanni Bonemold, handcrafted by the blacksmith himself. It would bring me luck, he claimed. It was around then that I came to terms with what exactly She was, my prey. An aspect or envoy of Mara. I thought perhaps at the end of this journey, she would lead me to my fated one. This was to be my test and I would not fail. One day, She saw fit to stick to the road instead of leading me into the countryside as she had been like to do thus far. Tiring of toting my helmet on my hip, I slipped it over my head. It was QUITE uncomfortable. I came then to find a highway, and there found a fancifully armored man standing firm beneath a high-stalked mushroom. I glanced at him, nodded and continued past. As I passed, he greeted me by gesture of hand. A fellow pilgrim, judging by his armor. An Ordinator in Mourning, I remember our studies, Fanar. I wonder if you would have recognized the mask should the shoe have been on the other foot. I like to think not! I was always the more studious of the two. I bid him "Good Morning" but he offered not a reply, instead beckoning for me to accompany him down the path. He took maybe three or four steps before stopping.

As though he had been looking for a suitable spot, he knelt and dusted off a portion of dirt from the path. In the clean slate, he pondered for a moment then wrote the word "Alam" in Daedric lettering. "Is that your name?" I asked, prompting him to stare on with that crying mask of his. A bit below his words, I dusted off a spot and wrote "Lissa", the name of a friend from the Temple. I believe the two of you have met, though I take it she caught not your fancy at the time." I giggled before continuing. "I would of course not share my real name with a stranger in such foreign lands, one would have to be crazy. He looked to the name that I had written, then to his own, shaking his head, he then swept a finger through both names, then drew a series of circles and lines. One above the other, with each below and offset from the former. He touched the top one, then himself, then traced a path down from it, dipping up to other points every so often, a winding path like the branches of a tree. His finger at last came to the lower circle and his gaze toward me. I shrugged, not quite grasping whatever it was that he intended to convey. I elected to simply call him "Alam". He did not object! And so off we went, new acquaintances in strange lands.

There was something off-putting about him. It was merely a suggestion at first but with every step it became more obvious. There was illusion at play. No doubt. Yet, he seemed harmless, troubled, pitiful in a way, but innocent. But above all else, familiar. I could have sworn it was you or Grandfather under that suit of armor if I knew no better! As we continued on, I divulged bits of my life and current pilgrimage, a lie for every truth, but as time went on there was far more truth than lie. That I was with the Temple in Riften and that I had been following what I thought to be an aspect of Mara. The word "Mara" struck him profoundly, bringing him down on one knee. I felt as though I was in like-minded company from then on. In the North, with Solstheim visible on the horizon, my prey lead us into a blackened wood, the mid-day sun vanishing betwixt the weave of it's many branches. Such a haunting site had hidden a long-forgotten town, or what remained of it. This ruined settlement, toppled of stone and rotted of wood. Centuries old, I gathered, as the forest had all but overtaken it. Night arrived with the last shafts of light leaving us in utter darkness. As we bumped into walls and felt our way forward, wood frames and supports soon disappeared entirely, the ruins that of stone and stone alone. Truly ancient ruins. Past one final spattering of stone, we burst into broad moonlight.

A clearing, and in it's midst, a Temple of some sort, half-embedded in an embankment. The butterfly paused, seemingly making certain that I saw it's intent before darting inside.

"Let's have a peek." I motioned toward the Temple. Some sort of brass rubble lay at the far end with a broken table and monument between it and us. Above, the high ceiling rose to meet bare sky. He stepped up to the rubble and looked down at the table, running his finger through the dust, no, ASH that coated it. He then spoke, in a way. "A great fall. Struck my head. Forgot. Here." He placed his hand on the table, patting the ash long-since disturbed.

His words caught me off guard, foreign yet familiar. I stumbled out of the chamber and against a table in the hall. I had thought him mute. When next he began, I realized that his words came not of voice but in my head, etching themselves onto the walls of my mind like quill to parchment. Every word immovable and absolute, stood in it's place, steadfast against all time. I recall them like the names of friends and memories of our youth long-passed yet long-yearned. It was as though I was there. With eyes of fire at my back, I saw Alam in Necrom, The City of the Dead. He walked past mausoleums of marble, his head down. "I once had a woman. Telvanni council." I saw man and woman and that which came between them. "A son. My fault. My duty. I could not." The vision faded, bringing attention to his armor briefly before smudging back into view. I saw him patrol the city, tend to Ancestral rites, pray, he was never able to see his son. "We would speak by letter. She found another. Cruel Tedalen. Powerful beyond words. I lost her. They took his name. He took my son. My fault. I walked. Shrine to shrine. Make things right." I saw his son in adulthood, a despicable man, encapsulating the worst of the Telvanni. To atone for his failure, Alam traveled the lands near and far visiting one shrine after another, seeking forgiveness which could not be found.

I saw years pass as though I sat amongst the swaying reeds watching countless sunsets. "Firewatch." With his words, I saw behemoth oaken doors gliding on axles, well-oiled and maintained. "A man in need." The scene uncoiled like a scroll, centering on a Bosmer crying for help as a Dunmer in Chitin held him at knife-point. They bickered about ship fare, his hired guard refused to follow him. Too dangerous, he would rather die than go there. Wherever there was. Their argument grew more heated by the moment until the dagger was brought flat against Bosmer throat. "Twice, thrice, and it was done." Alam summoned a bound longsword and struck the aggressor down. The Bosmer shook his hands, a long talk, a new guard found, together they departed for the docks and set about by ship in no small hurry. I saw them sail North, to the great isle in full splendor. "A mistake." His words hung low, as though he was near tears. I saw the party travel inland over many days, through the threshold and into the peaks.

Up spiraling cliffs and winding paths, they came to the summit but something was amiss. In but an instant, the mountain bellowed and quaked, throwing it's lifeblood high and far as smoke funneled out from the depths of Dagoth Ur itself. The vision quickly grew dark, cataclysmic. Rocks slid, fissures opened up, lakes of molten rock filled the lowlands below. The mountain itself did crumble and give way. He split from his companions, leaving them to their fates as he raced off, trying to save himself. Back in reality, Alam buckled on one knee, wailing in silent motion and beating his fist against the table. His companions fell one by one until none but he still stood. His voice screeched in my head. " A mistake!"

In all but a whisper, I heard him pray. To every Aedra and Daedra, to every ancestor he could bring to tongue. "Let me not be swallowed by this beast!" Second to last, he evoked Mara. "Let me make things right before the end!" He pleaded to no avail. With no other gods to turn to, his thoughts turned to the namesake of the forsaken pit. The mask of Dagoth Ur filled my mind as he uttered the name. No sooner did the vile name cross his lips than did his eyes spy an enormous ritual bell, shaken from it's post by the trembling. It beckoned like an inn amidst the most dreadful storm even to I, an onlooker worlds away. He crawled inside the bell, fingers bleeding as they frantically dug for any hold. Then it happened. A roaring explosion filled my head, the likes of which drove me to clutch at my ears, though it did nothing to dampen the sound. His eardrums ruptured, eyes pounding in their sockets, as the world itself was sundered unto and the mountain fell from beneath his feet. The loudest sound imaginable, an explosion to shake the fabric of all things.

The bell fell and was then hurled skyward, and he with it. As it soared, it gonged. Chimed. Bellowed. Each note louder than the explosion. His head shook and struck the sides of the bell, denting it like the blows of a hammer. He ripped at his boiling armor, shedding it and sending pieces raining down to the world below. Down to nothing but his reddened skin and ragged trousers, all grew black. From this blackness, he and I saw a door like the door of Firewatch. On axles greased and well-maintained, it swiveled and swung. Behind it we saw this man, long of face, malnourished and bearded in auburn. From his pocket he took and key and brought it to the bridge of his nose. At the tip of the key, his skin folded into a keyhole and upon inserting and turning the key, his face fell away like Red Mountain, leaving only a churning abyss in it's place. My view shifted, we saw this gaped pit from side-on. A flat ring of skin and inside it, nothing. From whence the nothing came a tower of brass, a mechanical arm or trunk. It flailed and quivered, exhaled steam from it's joints, and grew ever longer. It extended forever, shuddering with life and meaning despite it's unnatural appearance. This trunk of brass was all the mattered in his world. When we acknowledged this fact, the flesh around the hole grew black and from the void came came tendrils of discolored flesh, fastening themselves onto the face of the face. From the pit came a coating of skin, a liquid rising from the opening, and extending into the horizon. It consumed the brass and all that remained was the flesh. A momentous crash, the bell striking stone, his limp body shattered an ancient table. The bell had carried him long and far from the peak and unto this Temple by the mainland shore.

"I did terrible things." I welcomed the return of his words, though too soon as more nightmarish sights were soon to follow. I saw Alam... No, The Illusionist and Cultist, ASSUT!" Fanar's eyes jolted open at the name." Before his wounds had even healed, his work began. Disappearances abound, strange dreams, things lurking in the dark. His hands did tinker and the result, monsters of brass, mockeries of the Sixth House. Another great passage of time, and then... Grandfather. I saw them come together in battle. Many, many, many times. I saw Grandfather with hammer in hand, he struck Assut in the head, twice, thrice. He could have killed him but he let him go, turning to save his companions instead. An illusion in the sky, he watched from afoot as Grandfather had his fall.

I saw Assut, pitiful and crazed in the days following, memories would leap from the void as fish on an open sea, bounding off of his head, only to quickly fall back into the unknown. Leaving naught but a ripple, a reminder of their mirrored fall. I saw the fragile bearded man, half clothed and caked in paints, traveling far south and into the marshes. "I began again. It was all I knew." He fled into contested land, spreading his delusion and lunacy. He made things worse, taking so many, he came to call no fewer than one hundred his children. More than half were Dunmer, though stragglers of other races blindly followed his banner. He lied to them, there would be no place for them if he succeeded. Three portions were modified in the likeness of the flesh, with the others transformed into acolytes. An entourage of monstrosities shuffled past, with one figure in the back remaining still.

Among his most regarded, there was one more well-regarded than the rest. An even more pitiful sort. Marked from scalp to sole, his flesh twisted and charred, blistered and blemished, his left arm amputated at the elbow. He, like Assut had a certain familiarity about him, though I could not place him. "His mind like brass. Cold. Dense. He knows none but revenge." A Quarra, he had obviously walked a treacherous road and faced many hardships. I bore witnesses to several conversations between them. By his own admission, he had inflicted himself with Vampyrism in an attempt to cure his ailments. It of course failed to better his condition by any means, adding an unending thirst to his unending itch. "Make me whole" he would cry, prostrating himself at Assut's feet. He would take him by the chin and lift him high. Casting his horrific visage before him and whispering into his head. He gave him an arm of brass, a gift from his Lord to tide him over until the coming of His flesh. "Betrayed me. He took my children." With that arm was Assut nearly strangled to death. The Quarra left Assut for dead, combing through his mind for all of his secrets. Satisfied with what he had found, he left with all his secrets and monsters in tow. Assut, having lost his world for the third time, returned to this temple, casting an illusion of his former self at the crossroads to await... me?

With that, the vision ended. As I tried to come to terms with what I had been shown, Assut turned to face me, assuming a stance as though inviting me into an embrace. Clutching the dagger beneath my sash, I hesitated for a moment then stepped forward, wrapping my arms around his waist. In his arms, as though in the arms of a family member, his drawing in the dirt sprang to mind. Our family tree. His voice bellowed one last time. "Even after my crimes, She did not forsake me." With that, he and his magicks vanished in but an instant. As the last of his figure dissipated into vapor, I plucked the helmet from my head, gulping in some much needed fresh air. As my eyes adjusted to the world outside of their verdant glass goggles, the glint of powdered wings forced them to focus. Mind still racing, I drew close, and for once, the butterfly did not flee. My hand came forward to stroke Her powdered wing.

She allowed it for but a breath then lifted off, soaring upwards, up and out the hole in the ceiling. My eyes fell upon the ruined bell, a shuffling sound from beneath the edge. I stepped around the table and peered beneath. Curled up there did I spy a mother Ice-Wolf and cubs. They yet slumbered peacefully despite the intrusions of the hour. In a hush, I said a quick prayer to Mother Mara the Wolf as the morning light cascaded down about my form. The following days were a blur, up until I was found on Grandmother and Grandfather's doorstep raving like a lunatic. Near to a full month had passed since my disappearance, by their account, though I would have guessed far longer. But it was not for naught, my experiences had given me the final shove I needed. I returned to Riften the following week, leaving with my most trusted allies, and as you know, we have been honoring Mara the correct way in Helsmyrr ever since. And that... Is all, I believe." The meat of the story concluded, I rambled about from one tangent to another for the better part of the next hour. Of my struggles to reach Fanar by letter and of my fears of losing him, of the golden days of our youth, to the goings-ons of the Grandparents and little Uncle. All the while met by the occasional grunt, chuckle or lifted brow. Should I be particularly lucky, I would be gifted by an actual reply or witty remark. What better way to conclude a good day and fantastic night, one of the best since age and fate had separated our near-mirrored forms. But it was getting late and my words had long-since drifted in one long ear and out the other. His thoughts lay elsewhere, to the one awaiting him across the hall and to things greater than he or I. But that is how he is, oh how I've missed him.

#screenshots #skyrim #fannah #dunmer #storytime #fanar #snakestone family #writing #story #oc #waifu #husbando #twins #family

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rabbitcruiser · 3 years

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International Rock Day

The Rock or stone is a naturally occurring solid aggregate of one or more minerals or mineraloids. For example, the common rock granite is a combination of the quartz, feldspar and biotite minerals. The Earth’s outer solid layer, the lithosphere, is made of rock. Rocks have been used by mankind throughout history. From the Stone Age, rocks have been used for tools. The minerals and metals found in rocks have been essential to human civilization.

Learn about International Rock Day

International Rock Day has been created so that people all around the world can learn more about rocks. It’s not about rock and roll music; it’s all about the stone variety! After all, rocks play a big role in the environment, and they have been used by humans for many purposes over the years.

Three major groups of rocks are defined: igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic. The scientific study of rocks is called petrology, which is an essential component of geology. At a granular level, rocks are composed of grains of minerals, which, in turn, are homogeneous solids formed from a chemical compound that is arranged in an orderly manner.

The aggregate minerals forming the rock are held together by chemical bonds. The types and abundance of minerals in a rock are determined by the manner in which the rock was formed. Many rocks contain silica (SiO2); a compound of silicon and oxygen that forms 74.3% of the Earth’s crust. This material forms crystals with other compounds in the rock. The proportion of silica in rocks and minerals is a major factor in determining their name and properties.

History of International Rock Day

International Rock Day is a day for celebrating this substance, which has been critical to the survival of mankind. Throughout history, rocks have been used. Since the Stone Age, rocks have been important for use as weapons and tools. The metals and minerals that have been found in rocks are critical to human civilization.

Rocks are geologically classified according to characteristics such as mineral and chemical composition, permeability, the texture of the constituent particles, and particle size. These physical properties are the end result of the processes that formed the rocks. Over the course of time, rocks can transform from one type into another, as described by the geological model called the rock cycle.

These events produce three general classes of rock: igneous, sedimentary, and metamorphic. The three classes of rocks are subdivided into many groups. However, there are no hard and fast boundaries between allied rocks. By increase or decrease in the proportions of their constituent minerals they pass by every gradation into one another, the distinctive structures also of one kind of rock may often be traced gradually merging into those of another.

Hence the definitions adopted in establishing rock nomenclature merely correspond to more or less arbitrary selected points in a continuously graduated series.

How to celebrate International Rock Day

There are a number of different ways that you can celebrate International Rock Day. One of the options is to do a bit of research on the different types of rocks that are available across the globe, as well as the different uses for these rocks. You can share this knowledge with your friends and family. Why not go on a rock hunt together? You can collect different types of rocks and learn about them. It is always fun to spend your time doing something different with the ones that you love.

Another way to celebrate International Rock Day is to enjoy an art project involving rocks. The best rocks for painting are those that can fit into the palm of your hand. The best surfaces for images and designs are rocks that have a flat surface and are nice and smooth.

You should also wash the surface of the rock and get rid of all of the dirt before you begin to paint. You will also find that acrylic paint works the best. You can use a variety of different types of brushes, depending on the sort of techniques that you want to attempt. When you are finished, seal the design. You can experiment with new colors and effects, creating different themes of rocks and exciting designs.

You can also spend some time learning about rocks on International Rock Day. After all, there is so much information about their formation uses, and much more. We will end this post with some fascinating facts to help you get started…

Some minerals and rocks appear so unusual that legends and myths have sprung up about them. For example, it was believed that snakestones were the remains of coiled snakes that had turned into stones.

Artists have used the colors inside some minerals and rocks for many years. For instance, cinnabar, which is the powder of a mineral rock, was used for art in the Middle Ages because of its brilliant red color.

Meteorites are pieces of metal or rock that hit the earth. Some have broken off to create asteroids, which are big rock chunks that orbit the sun in between Jupiter and Mars. If a big meteorite hits the Earth, it can result in a crater, which can change the surroundings of where it lands.

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voluntarismochilensis · 4 years

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The Pepper Country (chile pero en ingles)

Comunas de Santiago de chile :Jamestone's comunnes , Pepper country

1= lo barnechea , The Basement

2= vitacura ,Big stone

3= las condes ,The countesses

4= Provicencia = Providence (pro-vuh-dns)

5= la reina = The queen

6= Ñuñua = Yellow flowers Pl

7= Macul = White clay Pl

8= peñalolen= sheaf Valley

9= La florida = The flowerful

10= Puente alto = High Bridge

11: Pirque = Miners zone

12= Huechuraba = clay maker place

13= Conchalí = bright valley (brait valley)

14= Independencia= independence (in-duh-pen-dns)

15= Recoleta = isolated PL

16= Santiago centro = Jameshire

17: Quilicura = Threestone

18: Renca = Herb plains

19: Pudahuel = Puddle Pl

20: Maipú: Plowed (plawd) Pl

21:Padre hurtado : St.Bert

22: San Bernardo = St. Bernie

23: La pintana = DuckField

24: lo espejo = Mirror Pl

25: El bosque = The Forest

26: La cisterna = The cistern

27: San Ramón = Saint Raymond

28: La granja = Farmers Pl

29= San joaquin = St.Kim

30: San Miguel = St.Michael

31: PAC = P.H.B (Peter Handsome bristle)

32: Cerrillos = Small Hills

33: Estacion central = Central Station

34: Lo prado = The Meadows(meh-dowz)

35: Cerro navia = Asturian Hill

36: Quinta normal = Fifth Normal

-------------------------------------- comunas de la Region de valparaiso: pass to heaven comunnes

Petorca: The pecks district

-Petorca:Peck shire

-cabildo: Hall town

La ligua: Rising sun village

-papudo: Big chin

-Zapallar: Pumpkin Pl

-------------------------------------------- San felipe de aconcagua: St.Phill viewpoint district

-San felipe: St.Phill shire

-catemu: Bonny Pl

-llay llay: Windy Ville

-panquehue: Flowery city

-putaendo: Cold springs

-Santa maria: St.Marie -----------------

Brighton district

san esteban= St.Stephen

Los andes = brighton shire

calle larga= Boulevard Town

Rinconada= Corner town

-------------------------- Quillota = Moon River

-Nogales: Walnut grove

-La cruz: The cross

-La calera: Lime quarry

-Hijuelas: Litle castle

-Quillota: Moon shire

------------------------------ valparaiso = Pass to heaven

puchuncavi = Party town

quintero= Celtic ville

concon= Midnight beach

viña del mar: Vineyard beach

valparaiso: Heaven shire

casablanca: Whitehause

San ferndandez: Ferdy islands

-------------------------- San antonio = St.Toni

algarrobo : Carob beach

el quisco: Owlstone beach (owl , A-ul)

el tabo: Coven beach (coven= kuh-vn)

cartagena: Newtown beach

santo domingo: St.Dominick

---------------------------------

Marga Marga= Flimsy grassland

-limache: Warlockstone

-Olmue: leafy Pl (Lify)

-villa alemana = German ville

-quilpue: turtledove Pl -------------------------------- Isla de pascua = Easter island

Terevaka = canoes Hills

hanga oteo= viewpoint bay

anakena= white cave

ovahe= Cliff bay

te pito kura : Healing sanctuary

papa vaka: Canoestone

poike: Echoes Pl

tongariki: Wind sanctuary

rano raraku: Grooved volcano

akahanga: sanctuary bay

vaihu: Hot waters Pl

vinapu: Cassanova bay

rano kau: Forest volcano

motu nui: Big island

orongo: Ceremonial village

ana kaitangata: Cannibals cave

hanga roa: Far bay

tahai: Sunset Pl

ana kakenga: Forbidden love cave

puna pau: Hats quarry

ana te pora: Canoes cave

ana te pahu: Urns sanctuary

ahu tapeu: Snake sanctuary

akivi: Ceremonial shrine

----------------- Region de tarapacá: Extended eagle state

iquique: Dream district

-iquique: Dream city

-alto hospicio: high hospice

-------------- Tamarugal: Prairie lands district

pozo almonte: Wells hills

camiña: Purple town

colchane: Grasstone

huara: Starstone

pica: Sandflower ville

------------- region de antofagasta: Hidden copper state

-antofagasta: Copper city

-mejillones: Mussels city

-sierra gorda: Fat saw city

-taltal: Night city

--------- El loa: Longest river district

-Calama: Water town

-Ollagüe: beatiful city

-san pedro de atacama: St.Peter

--------

Tocopilla: big ravine

-tocopilla: Ravine city

-maria elena: Mia city

comerse el morro. ------------------- Region de atacama: Black duck state

Chañaral: Geoffroea district

-chañaral: Geoffroea Pl

-Diego de Almagro: Red clay city ----- Copiapó: Colour district

-Copiapó: Blue city

-Caldera: Red city

-Tierra amarilla: Yellow city ----- Huasco: Valley district

-Vallenar: Ballenary

-Alto del carmen: South valley

-Freirina: Warrior priests city

-Huasco city: North valley ------------------------------------ Peacefull waters State (region de coquimbo)

Choapa= Golden District

Salamanca: Romanstone

Los vilos: Lord Willow Beach

Canela: Sunshine City

Illapel: Golden City ----- Peaceful´s river District

-Coquimbo: Peaceful city

-Andacollo: Golden king

-la higuera: Figtree city

-la serena: Pacific city

-paihuano: Sunny city

-vicuña: Wool city ------ White District

-Ovalle: Valley City

-Combarbalá: Duck city

-Monte patria: Mountain City

-punitaqui: Stony city

-rio hurtado: River City -------------------------- Region del libertador general Bernardo O’higgins : O´higgins State

Cachapoal=Greenish district

Rancagua: Canestone

codegua: Water Place

coinco: Sandstone

coltauco: Frogstone

doñihue: Pea city

graneros: Farmerstone

las cabras: Goat city

machali: Witches city

malloa: White grey city

mostazal: Mustard Pl

olivar: Olive Pl

peumo: Sunrise city

pichidegua: Mousestone

quinta de ticoco: stony water

rengo: Brave city

requinoa: Stoneville

san vicente de tagua tagua: St.Enzo ----------- Cardenal caro: Charlestone District

Pichilemu: Little forest

la estrella: Star city

litueche: Whitefield

marchigue: Claysoil

navidad: Chrismastone

paredones: Walltown ---------- Colchagua= Holy District

San fernando: Saint Ferdy

Chepica: Grasstown

Chimbarongo: cloudystone

lolol: Crabstone

nancagua: Gunneraceae

palmilla: Palmtree city

peralillo: Litletrees Pl

placilla: Litle square

pumanque: Condors Pl

santa cruz: Holy cross -------------------------- Maule= Rain River state

Cauquenes= Fisher district

Cauquenes: Fisherstone

Chanco: Aquaprings

Pelluhue: Turtle city ----- curico= Blackwater district

Curicó: Blackwater city

Hualañé: Duck Place

Licantén: Gemstone

Molina: Millersburgh

Rauco: Grey city

Romeral: Rosemary

Sagrada familia: Holy family

Teno: Burghstone

Vichuquén: Snake City ----- Linares= Clothes district

Linares: Clothburgh

Clobún: Wholeburgh

longaví: Snakeburgh

parral: Vineburgh

retiro: Restburgh

san javier: Neu Hausen

villa alegre: Happy ville

yerbas buenas: Plant city --------- Talca= Stormy District

Talca: Stormy city

constitucion: Constitution

curepto: Windyburgh

empedrado: Stonyburgh

maule: Rainstone

pelarco: Frostburg

pencahue: Pumpkintown

rio claro: Clear river

san clemente: St.Clement

san rafael: St.Toby ------------------------------ region del Biobio= River gossip state

Arauco= Grey district

-Lebu: Riverburgh

-Arauco: Greyburgh

-Cañete: Fisherburgh

-Contulmo: Stone city

-Curanilahue: Fordstone

-Los Álamos: Poplarstone

-Tirúa: The Meeting Pl ---------- River gossip district

-Los Ángeles: The Angels

-Alto Bío Bío: Highland

-Antuco: Hotsprings

-Cabrero: Goatburgh

-Laja: Slabstone

-Mulchén: Hawkstone

-Nacimiento: Jesusburgh

-Negrete: Niggaburgh

-Quilaco: Treewater

-Quilleco: Waterstone

-San Rosendo: St.Rudesind

-Santa Bárbara: St.Barbie

-Tucapel: Mudstone

-Yumbel: Saint Lucy ---------- concepcion= Saint District

Concepcion: Marieburgh

Chiguayante: Cloudyburgh

Coronel: Fredburgh

Florida: Flowerstone

Hualpén: Beautiful view

Hualqui: Creekstone

Lota: Litlestone

Penco: Water city

San Pedro: Saint Peter

Santa juana: St.Hanna

Talcahuano: Stormystone

Tomé: Tommyburgh ---------------- Region de la Araucanía: Clay waterlands State

Cautin: Iron district

Temuco: Myrtales

Carehue: Neu Deutshland

Chol chol: Thistlestone

Cunco: Clearwater

cararrehue: Sanctuarystone

Freire: Fryburgh

Galvarino: Cornville

Lautaro: Eaglestone

loncoche: Maineville

melipeuco: Crystal Waters

nueva imperial: Imperial city

Padre las casas: Tollystone

Perquenco: Grubby waters

Pitrufquén: Lisperguer

Pucón: Mountains Pl

Saavedra: Old Port

Teodoro schmidt: Theoville

Toltén: Sea waves

Vilcún: Snakestone

Villarica: Richville --------------------- Malleco: Terracotta District

Angol: Steep place

Collipulli: Colourlands

Curacautin: Meetingstone

Ercilla:New Euskadi

Lonquimay: Main River

lumaco: Shinyburgh

purén: Swamplands

renaico: Cavewater Pl

traguén: Waterfall Pl

victoria: Victoryburgh --------------------------------- Region de Los rios= The Rivers State

Ranco= Stormy district

La union: Spiritburgh

Futrono: Smoke Place

Lago ranco: Stormy Lake

Rio bueno: Good River ---------- Valdivia= Ford District

Valdivia: Fordburgh

Corral: Barnyard Pl

Lanco: Calm waters

Los lagos: Lake city

Máfil: Tree rivers

Mariquina: Family valley

Paillaco: Lonely waters

Panguipulli: Cougarlands --------- Region de Los lagos= The Lakes state

Chiloe= Seagull District

Castro: Celticstone

Ancud: Saint Karl

Chonchi: Blackstone

Curaco de velez: Ravenstone

Dalcahue: Shipstone

Puqueldon: Toughstone

Queilen: Cypresstone

Quellon: Aristotelia

Quemchi: Rustyburgh

Quinchao: Duckstone ------------ Llanquihue= Atlatis District

Puerto Montt: Montain Port

Calbuco: Bluewater

Cochamó: Dawnburgh

Fresia: Albas place

Frutillar: Strawberry

Los muermos: Maizeburgh

Llanquihue: New Atlanta

Maullin: FullWater

Puerto varas: Stickport ---------- Osorno: St.Matt

Osorno: Mattburgh

Puerto octay: Oxport

Purranque: Reedstone

puyehue: Fisherlake

Rio negro: Nigga River

San juan: St.Hans

San pablo: St.Paul ------------- Palena= Spider district

Chaiten: Rainy Place

Futuleufú: Bigger River

Palena: Spiderburgh -------------------------------- region de Aysén = Fjord lands State

Aysen: Fjordstone

Cisnes: Swanstone

Guaitecas: Sutherland ------ capitan pratt: Prattshire district

-Cochrane: Cochrane

-O´higgins: O´higgins

-Tortel: Deep waters ------- General Carrera: Joe Mike district

-Chile chico: Litle Pepper

-Rio ibañez: Johnson river ------------ Magellan state

Antartica: New Iceland district

Cabo de hornos: New Amsterdam

Antártica: Antarctica ----------------- Magallanes: Fern district

Punta arenas: Sandy Point

Laguna blanca: White lagoon

rio verde: Green river

San Gregorio: Saint Greg ---------- tierra del fuego:Firelands district

porvenir: Omenstone

Timaukel: Holyland --------- ultima esperanza: Hope district

puerto natales: Jesuslands

torres del paine: Fitzroy bush -------

#tumblr chilenito #chile #lugaresdechile #english #peppercountry

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just-beer-yourself-blog · 6 years

Photo

Snakestone & Haar Go for a Walk

The thrilling yarn of Haar and Snakestone (none other than the incredible character of @mrsnakestone) walking down the road in Whiterun, then back up it again.

��–

The first snowflakes of autumn had been falling since morning, frosting the tips of every blade of grass in Whiterun, delicately perching on the conifers, and melting on the paving stones. The guard was more active than usual and the townsfolk were scarce outdoors, as if there were a madman on the loose. The reality was much less sinister, the watchmen were pacing extra distance to keep warm, anxious to return home to prepare their winter attire before their next shift, meanwhile their families were huddled inside, drinking something warm no doubt.

Two men made their way down the lonely street. The first, a tall black-maned lion of a man, clad in plate-reinforced black leather, led the way toking his pipe every three or four steps. The slightly taller, much rounder, bare-chested lummox strode behind him with an impeccable swagger as if there were anyone else to see it. One brave shopkeeper was their only company, hastily moving her produce out from under their blankets and into her handcart and back indoors. The lummox swiped a carrot from the market stall and, only after a sharp kick to the shin from the other man, tossed a few Septims to the scowling shopkeeper. He took a bite of the carrot and chewed with great labor, eventually swallowing and coughing. "Fuckin' forgot I hate these things."

"You could use the veggies, Haar," his companion said. "You know you could do with less of that blubber. I was almost proud of you for picking that up."

Haar let out a booming laugh from his stomach that echoed off the city's walls. "And you could lay off the pipe you blacklung. Look at me, I'm Snakestone. AKH! AKH!" he mimicked in his best impression of a suffocating Argonian, with the carrot shoved between his lips like an orange cigar.

Snakestone chuckled quietly, trying not to rasp and wheeze in an effort not to sound like his friend's mockery of him. "Yeah yeah, you're just jealous you left your pipe at home. Ya know I never see you enjoying that- I made that special for you, you ungrateful-"

"Well of course, I enjoy earthly pleasures in moderation."

"You? Moderation?"

"Yeah yeah, fine, you got me.

"...And, uh, I don't have a wife that knows Restoration, so-"

Snakestone perked up, "Oh? You saying you got a wife now? You didn't have the ceremony without me, did you?"

"Nah, you know it ain't like that." Haar finished the remainder of the carrot in one bite and discarded the stem, struggling to down the wretched thing. "All that binds us is a business contract. She does the planning, I do the killing."

"Ha! Business contract my foot. You know Mara frowns upon such uncouth unions." Snakestone took the pipe out of his mouth and mockingly judged him with his eyes. "Well, when you two decide to do things proper, you best not forget-"

"Best not forget to have you stand up as my best man. I know, I know, as if it would ever be anyone else."

"You're damn right." Snakestone returned the pipe to his lips and drew in deep, leaving smoke rings trailing behind him as the pair continued down the empty street. They both stopped in front of a brazier near the gate, remaining silent for a while. Snakestone did a number on his pipeweed, meanwhile Haar absorbed all the warmth he could from the crackling fire against his exposed torso. Despite how he carried himself, he was bothered that every successive winter felt colder and colder to him. Must come with age, he thought, not that it brought him any comfort. And he surely wasn't about to let anyone know about it.

The two remained like this long after the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, until Snakestone broke the silence. "Here, before I forget." He took a coin purse out of his satchel and dumped some coins into his hands. "Your half."

"Bah, keep it. You've got two gremlins to feed. Besides, you took the contract, the jarl was paying you."

"Haar, buddy, don't tell me you don't deserve something for that performance."

"You're the one that drove your sword into that mage. He was the one with the bounty on his head."

"Maybe, but you know very well we would have had an uphill battle if it weren't for you throwing the little guy into the rest of the group."

Haar cracked up, finally failing to contain his stifled pride. "Fuckin' never gets old."

Snakestone clapped him on the back to distract him from the small pile of Septims he slipped into Haar's boot. To his surprise, he didn't seem to notice. "Well, what ever you say buddy. By Shor, it's gotten late."

"I know!" Haar growled. "And I haven't had a drink since supper."

"To the Mare?"

"To the Mare!"

The men made their way back up the main street. Not another soul had come outside the entire time, the city had entered its first deep sleep of the winter. As they reached the stairs up to the inn, Haar stopped and shook his left foot at Snakestone, causing an audible jingle.

"I'm buying."

#Skyrim #screenshots #story #Haar #Snakestone

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bookclub4m · 4 months

Text

Episode 194 - Indie Publishers

This episode we’re discussing the topic(?) of Indie Publishers! We talk about how to define an indie publisher, weirdo metro stories, song lyrics, and more!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray 🦇 | Jam Edwards

Join our Discord Server!

Things We Read (or tried to…)

Trial of the Clone: An Interactive Adventure! by Zach Weinersmith and Chris Jones

Any Other City by Hazel Jane Plante

Songs of Love, Death and Pleasure by Hazel Jane Plante

Video of the reading that Jam bought their books at last year!

A Short Journey by Car by Liam Durcan

Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions by Valeria Luiselli

Hope in the Dark: The Untold History of People Power by Rebecca Solnit

Of Thunder & Lightning by Kimberly Wang

Other Media We Mentioned

What About Crowdfunded Comics? by Matthew Murray 🦇 and Mara L. Thacker

Podcast version

How Poetry Saved My Life: A Hustler's Memoir by Amber Dawn

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal by Zach Weinersmith

The Platform Edge: Uncanny Tales of the Railways edited by Mike Ashley

When I Arrived at the Castle by E. M. Carroll

Boy Island by Leo Fox

Meanwhile, Elsewhere: Science Fiction and Fantasy from Transgender Writers edited by Cat Fitzpatrick and Casey Plett

Links, Articles, and Things

Image Comics (Wikipedia)

Creative Commons

SkyTrain (Vancouver) (Wikipedia)

Oulipo (Wikipedia)

Podcast episode where one host tries not to say the letter “e”

Denver Small Press Fest

Spaghettieis (Wikipedia)

“spaghetti ice cream”

45 New & Forthcoming Indie Press Books by BIPOC Authors

Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers’ Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors. All of the lists can be found here.

Fiction

Weird Black Girls: Stories by Elwin Cotman (AK Press)

False Idols: A Reluctant King Novel by K’Wan (Akashic Books)

Sister Deborah by Scholastique Mukasonga, translated by Mark Polizzotti (Archipelago Books)

Bad Land by Corinna Chong (Arsenal Pulp Press)

These Letters End in Tears by Musih Tedji Xaviere (Catapult)

The Coin by Yasmin Zaher (Catapult)

Cecilia by K-Ming Chang (Coffee House Press)

Fog & Car by Eugene Lim (Coffee House Press)

We’re Safe When We’re Alone by Nghiem Tran (Coffee House Press)

A Woman of Pleasure by Kiyoko Murata, translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter (Counterpoint Press)

Bad Seed by Gabriel Carle, translated by Heather Houde (Feminist Press)

The Default World by Naomi Kanakia (Feminist Press)

The Singularity by Balsam Karam, translated by Saskia Vogel (Feminist Press)

I'll Give You a Reason by Annell López (Feminist Press)

Tongueless by Lau Yee-Wa, translated by Jennifer Feeley (Feminist Press)

Outcaste by Sheila James (Goose Lane Editions)

Silken Gazelles by Jokha Alharthi, translated by Marilyn Booth (House of Anansi Press)

Dad, I Miss You by Nadia Sammurtok, illustrated by Simji Park (Inhabit Media)

Secrets of the Snakestone by Pia DasGupta (Nosy Crow)

The Burrow by Melanie Cheng (Tin House)

Masquerade by Mike Fu (Tin House)

The World With Its Mouth Open: Stories by Zahid Rafiq (Tin House)

I Love You So Much It's Killing Us Both by Mariah Stovall (Soft Skull Press)

Non-Fiction

RAPilates: Body and Mind Conditioning in the Digital Age by Chuck D and Kathy Lopez (Akashic Books)

All Our Ordinary Stories: A Multigenerational Family Odyssey by Teresa Wong (Arsenal Pulp Press)

Dispersals: On Plants, Borders, and Belonging by Jessica J. Lee (Catapult)

My Pisces Heart: A Black Immigrant's Search for Home Across Four Continents by Jennifer Neal (Catapult)

Beyond the Mountains: An Immigrant's Inspiring Journey of Healing and Learning to Dance with the Universe by Deja Vu Prem (Catapult)

Out of the Sierra: A Story of Rarámuri Resistance by Victoria Blanco (Coffee House Press)

Thunder Song: Essays by Sasha LaPointe (Counterpoint Press)

Born to Walk: My Journey of Trials and Resilience by Alpha Nkuranga (Goose Lane Editions)

Jinny Yu (At Once/À La Fois) by Jinny Yu (Goose Lane Editions)

Log Off: Why Posting and Politics (Almost) Never Mix by Katherine Cross (LittlePuss Press)

Becoming Little Shell: A Landless Indian’s Journey Home by Chris La Tray (Milkweed Editions)

World of Wonders: In Praise of Fireflies, Whale Sharks, and Other Astonishments by Aimee Nezhukumatathil (Milkweed Editions)

Opacities: On Writing and the Writing Life by Sofia Samatar (Soft Skull Press)

The Story Game by Shze-Hui Tjoa (Tin House)

Black Meme: The History of the Images That Make Us by Legacy Russell (Verso Books)

Poetry

i heard a crow before i was born by Jules Delorme (Goose Lane Editions)

We the Gathered Heat: Asian American and Pacific Islander Poetry, Performance, and Spoken Word edited by Franny Choi, Bao Phi, Noʻu Revilla, and Terisa Siagatonu (Haymarket Books)

A Map of My Want by Faylita Hicks (Haymarket Books)

[...] by Fady Joudah (Milkweed Editions)

Comics

A Witch’s Guide to Burning by Aminder Dhaliwal (Drawn & Quarterly)

Oba Electroplating Factory by Yoshiharu Tsuge (Drawn & Quarterly)

Lost at Windy River by Jillian Dolan, Trina Rathgeber and Alina Pete (Orca Books)

Give us feedback!

Fill out the form to ask for a recommendation or suggest a genre or title for us to read!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Instagram, join our Facebook Group or Discord Server, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, June 4th we’ll be discussing non-fiction Pop Culture!

Then on Tuesday, June 18th it’s time once again for One Book One Podcast as we each pitch a book we think we should read and you (the listeners) get to vote!

#episodes #indie #publishers

0 notes

yarti · 7 years

Photo

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#skyrim #yarti #snakestone family #dunmer #child #kid #babies #family #testing #modding #elder scrolls #waifu #husbando #cute #adorable #fanar #fannah

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yarti · 3 years

Photo

[ Fanar ] - [ The Fine and the Fair ]

Click anywhere for Imgur link with full set and captions.

Story Below:

I try not to let her see it. My eyes turn skywards or to the toe of my boots, my mind like this smoke, curled and twisted. The pipe and thoughts of last night do well to ease it, but it is a fleeting thing. I like to think it normal to be this nervous, that I am not losing my mind. The fingers fiddle with belt loops or jingle keys maddeningly, tightening about the axe shaft until the leather wears thin. It is like that. A certain mood just hangs overhead and will not part, the thought of monsters in the dark, the Berne and those yet to show themselves, and the ever-present chime of coming temple-bells. I hear it in the ambience, be it in the blacksmith's hammer or call of crows at dusk. Beneath the chime and quick to overtake it, a bellowing thunder and the steady winding of clocks, the turn of gears and the roaring engines of the deep. That thing on the peak reminded me of those times long passed. The sounds it made and the way it moved in the end. Those days are like a fever dream, but what we fought was no dream. Or maybe it was. Sometimes it feels as though I am still down there doing the work. Perhaps this life is the dream. No.

Yesterday, our carriage ride came to an end and we set about town. I booked a room at the Bannered Mare to rest and collect our thoughts. I thought it best to start fresh on the morrow, affording us some time to find Gili more fitting attire above all else. If Mother saw her like that, "A blouse cut that low will be the death of us both" I jested, taking her hand into mine. Surely she would find something more conservative in that luggage of hers, but that would have to wait, the night was ours. With sunrise, I left her to her devices, thinking to take in some morning air and find a quiet place for a smoke. So it was for an hour, perhaps a bit more, just I and my thoughts, my thoughts and I. What a terrible combination. Thankfully Gili's visage soon parted the smoke to my left. "Apologies for the wait." She said, stepping out into the sunlight. Mortified and jaw agape, my pipe clattered to the cobbled ground.

"I thought you were going to cover up?"

Before me stood Gili, clad in tight black trousers and a loose black sweater, cut to leave little to the imagination. "Be glad that I opted not to just go in the nude. I had debated as much, I'll have you know! If she'll not have me based on my clothes, then perhaps it is not to be? No. It will be fine." She giggled to herself, locking her golden gaze with mine. "And if not, we'll go together, you said as much yourself."

And so we began the dreaded march down the road toward the Snakestone homeplace in silence. Gili was in high spirits, often turning to give reassuring glances and enthused smiles. The fifteen minute walk felt like hours, the final eight steps, like years.

"Just be yourself, I suppose" With those words, we disappeared beneath the awning. I extended an unsteady hand, inching closer and closer to the door handle. Taking it into my grasp, I turned to Gili to find her with a finger held high and about to speak. "It will be fine." I took her hand, and pushed forward. The door squealed on hinges long since oiled, bringing to mind the door to the Berne's hiding place, but the aroma of homecooked food lashed at my nostrils most pleasurably. Inside stood two little Dunmer, one far more little than the other, grinning ear to ear. My Mother in a red corseted dress, and hair tied in the front as is the fashion since Cuo departed and Fannah, to her right and clasped about her waist, wore one of her light travel skirts.

As we stepped through the threshold, Mother looked up at me, eyes welling with joy. Freeing herself from Fannah, she rose to her tiptoes and into a loving embrace, whispering "Welcome home." into the leather of my vest. Holding me as though she had no intent to let go, Mother and Sister vied for control of my waist until Fannah at least seized control. She likewise looked upon me like she had that day I crawled out from the deep. It had been a good long while. Satisfied, they broke off and stepped back, taking notice of the figure behind me. "It is so good to see you again, and to meet you, Fannah." A voice called out from my back. Gili brushed past and curtsied in such a way as to emphasize her outfit or lack thereof. Mother's gaze shifted from Gili's golden eyes, down to her boots then back up to her distracting cleavage. Tiny auburn brows furled, teeth gnashed, and a unanimous inaudible hiss erupted from the pair. Gili proceeded to embrace them, one after the other, leaving them stunned.

"Pleased to meet you, Gili." Mother choked out with more than a degree of malice. She continued, "Again, you say?"

"Briefly, you attended one of my Father's balls when I was but a young girl. My father is one Tunenil Elakiit, lord of a keep and mines some ways to the East of here. He tended to invite mercenaries and the like to his events, it was his favored manner of making connections in the world. My Mother was court wizard at the time and since her unfortunate passing, I have followed in her shoes much like Fanar has followed in those of his Father. We have been through much, he and I. You've raised a fearless man." Her words prompted a scoff from Fannah. Gili glanced over at me before continuing. "Our meeting was the result of one such invitation, though I had heard tale of a many of his exploits long before ever laying eyes upon him."

Mother toyed with the brass bands below her chin, turning each one in turn, seemingly combing through the years before at last placing her finger on it. "A masquerade ball, I can see it now. Snake and I in matched-silk, flecked with gold. A bronze face for he and a beaked porcelain for I. Your Mother in a fine yellow, veiled and masked, gave us a tour of the grounds before the ball began proper. By it's end, all masks were off and we caught a rather brief glance at the three of you. Quite the resemblance, as I recall."

"You are a court wizard too then? A mage?" probed Fannah, bring her hands together.

Gili looked to me, seemingly unsure where this was heading. She contemplated a moment then lifted a drooped sleeve. "I suppose, but-", Fannah's palms ignited with a blinding flash. "So you ARE a witch! You've bewitched my brother!" She screamed, bolting forward as though she were to vaporize her with light. Just in time, I extended an arm to hold her back. "There will be none of that."

Taking her by the arm, I tugged her into the hall while Mother and Gili resumed. My first question, "Why are you here? We were heading your way on the next leg of the journey. I promised, remember?." She turned her back to me, pouting. "Did you burn my letters before reading them again?" She twirled, smacking me across the face firmly. "“Fanar wake up! I'll not have that siren whisk you away again." Oh how I've missed her. Just in time to see the blow, Father stepped out from the bathroom in a matching vest. "Caught, red-handed." I chuckled. Father's expression spoke volumes, certainly bringing back like-wise warm memories of our antics. "Here for a while, I hope." He remarked, peeking into the family room then joining us. Towering over Fannah and but an inch taller than I, he put his arms across both of our shoulders and looked to Mother and Gili. He smiled and gave me a look of total approval. "Good work, boy." He whispered, patting me on the back as he broke off and continued toward the doorway.

"Mister Snakestone himself, I presume. A pleasure to see you again as well." Gili said mid-embrace. Mother glared on, annoyed but far less so than earlier. They spoke for a few moments as Fannah and I caught up. She had long since planned this meeting and had prepared a variety of wards along the road to know of our coming. Fiolette came up in the conversation a few times before I finally interrupted to ask where she was. Mother had just finished feeding her in time to meet us at the door, our presence long announced, and had left her in the family room, sleeping soundly far and away from any potential "conflict". With much pleading, Mother agreed to allow the entire party to see her under the expectation of quiet. Seated atop the leather sofa in a lined basket not unlike what Fannah and I used as infants, lay little Fiolette. She is quite new to the world, born sometime after my first meeting Gili. I had visited a few times since her birth, but as fate is swift to call me away, we have had little interaction. Perhaps once things are settled, really settled, she'll have her big brother around more often. Gili knelt before her, much to Fannah's displeasure, brushing the back of her hand across her cheek. My wife-to-be spoke on words barely audible to those not long of ear, "May you grow as strong as Fanar, and taller than Fannah." Above her, Fannah grumbled while the rest of us smiled contently.

As the night carried on, Mother brought the sleeping Fiolette upstairs and watched over her while finishing up our meal. Summoned by bells, the rest of us shuffled upstairs and lined about a table long with many chairs. Mother and Father sat at one side, Gili and I at the other. Fannah sat with Fiolette to the outward side, where she was free to glare at Gili throughout the ordeal. The conversation bounded from one topic to another, firstly a deeper dive into Gili's past. From there, to our meeting, the search for her Mother's statue, the disappointing conclusion and continued outings to meet with me. A brief touch on Father and Mother's lives, then of my travels above and below. Next on to Fannah's profession, though she dodged the question of how it came to be as she always does. Moods went high and low depending on the story. During one such high point, I took the opportunity to make known our intent to marry, as if there were any doubt at this point, and that Fannah's temple would be our next stop after a quick visit with the Grandparents. The conversation at last came to things of late and our reason for visiting Grandfather, the thing on the peak, the Berne, the fears that this could all relate to Assut. Once she had finished her meal, Fannah pushed herself off from the table and stormed off with Fiolette. Thinking she had finally given up, I kicked back, somewhat relieved. Father and I met eye to eye, already knowing what the other was thinking. With the baby out of the room, it was a fine a time as any to light up some Elves Ears.

The family moved from room to room for a while. Gili and Mother mended well as the night carried on, there was talk of repairing her turban in the morning. I even saw she and Fannah speak without the glow of magic on several occasions toward the end. I expected worse, truth be told. The festivities continued until just before midnight, we then went our separate ways. I saw Gili to our room-to-be downstairs, Theo's old room. As Gili settled into bed, I returned to the kitchen for but a moment to see if Mother needed help with the dishes. I found her humming and rocking little Fiolette back to sleep. Best not to disturb them, I made my way back downstairs. In the long hall, I found Fannah motioning for me in front of the storeroom door. With a sigh I walked over to see what she had up her sleeve.

"Fanar, I'm sorry about tonight. I just miss how things used to be when we were little, it's more about that than about her. I'm sure she's fine, I just don't want to lose you." All but in tears, she collapsed against my chest and held tight. "You are still little, Fannah." She smiled and nestled her head closer. "You and I are leaves shaken by the same winds. I too know well the longing for days since past, I obsess over it whether I talk about it or not. But times change and all must move on, somehow." Unsure what else to say, I held her and drew long of mind, swimming through the waters of my life in search of that which I needed.

"Do you remember our last time together in Helsmyrr? Helsmyrr, a place I plan to call home once all is settled. I promise that. By the pond, dragonfly made merry above the face of the waters, and many a fish went about their lives, disturbed by naught but stray hair filtering through the planks of the dock and falling into their domain. Above said dock, once-near-mirrored forms twisted by time. The more-fair side of the coin stood above the less-fair as he dozed. A loud slap roused him from his slumber and they were soon on their way. Down the road to a ruined temple recently renewed by the more-fair. The less-fair had just returned from a grand journey, in search of one who he, in the end, could not find. The more-fair berated the less-fair. Thinking that the person he had been searching for had been a woman and being a woman of the old Mara herself, she said that when the time was right, "she" would come to him. That he should stop searching until said time was right. She was wrong, you know? The less-fair was indeed searching for someone, but the person he sought long for was himself. Purpose, meaning. A place in the world. In time he realized his purpose, he had been doing the right thing all along but was blind to it. But with one void filled, another soon opened. The less-fair chewed on the words of the more-fair, and in his travels long and far searched for the one that she had prophesied. Perhaps then he would be happy. No matter how far he went, it was a fruitless search. One day, fate brought the less-fair to a castle in the mountains and before him stood one most-fine. The one he had been searching for. That time will likewise come for the more-fair some day but until then, and beyond then, the other side of the coin will always be there, should she have need of him. She need but think of that day, and of this one."

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