[center][h2]Tsleeixth & Daixanos: Before the Attack[/h2][/center]
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[center][i]A Mortarian and POOHEAD189 collab[/i][/center] 
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Tsleeixth made his way to the deck of the [i]Kyne’s Tear[/i], after his conversations with Sagax, Keegan, and Wy the Saxhleel had found it difficult for sleep to come to him. And, as such, he now found himself on the deck of the ship that carried them to Jehanna, the chill breeze of the early night buffeting against his skin. He breathed in the cold wind, a sense of nostalgia suddenly overcoming him; for the first time in nearly three decades he’d be leaving Skyrim behind. A sense of excitement and anticipation surged through him and, surprisingly enough, he also felt a poignant sadness within himself as well. Despite all that had occured in Dawnstar, there was still a part of him that clung to the idea of Skyrim as his homeland, despite the fact that what had happened in Dawnstar proved that such an idea was nothing more than a fantasy that’d never come true. 

Shaking his head, the Argonian made his way through the mostly empty deck. He gave a brief nod in acknowledgment to the crewmembers that he passed by, but what he was mostly looking for was a quiet, undisturbed, place where he could think, that is until he saw another figure, one much more familiar, in the deck. “[i]Dax.[/i]” He thought, guilt surging inside of him shortly after he had recognised his fellow Saxhleel. They both had been imprisoned concurrently and yet he hadn’t made an attempt to talk with his fellow Argonian, then he had been sent with the other group of the company and in the ensuing chaos that came with their hasty voyage to Solitude, further complicated by the fact that they had travelled in separate groups, meant that he hadn’t had time to speak with Daixanos in a long time. Deciding to remedy that, Tsleeixth approached his fellow Saxhleel and gently tapped him on the shoulder “Also looking for a secluded spot to think brother?” He asked softly, wondering what had brought Dax here. 

Daixanos had heard Tsleeixth approaching from a ways off, his hunter senses always upon the edge of a knife. Beforehand, however, he had been in quiet contemplation. He simply allowed the scent of the sea fill his nostrils as he brooded over the events that had transpired the past few months. Even after having bled and fought alongside the mercenary group, he felt much akin to an outcast. When he had joined, he had stayed merely to fight the Kamal. And when the news from Blackmarsh had circulated, he had still remained behind to protect the other Argonians from oppression and slavery. But as the ship traversed the waves of the deep, he wondered why he had decided to step upon the vessel and take the ship into the west. A part of him wished he had simply disappeared into the wilds of Skyrim as he had done for years, and traveled the old path back to Blackmarsh. 

“I look for a secluded spot to be secluded,” Daixanos said, turning to look at Tslee. His small nod showed that he did not mind Tsleeixth’s company however. Merely newcomers or those who never truly had gotten to know him. He had made friends, to be sure. Do’Karth and Sevine, along with Ashav, Gustav, and even the ever complaining Keegan. But as it had turned out, Tslee was his closest friend, though his fellow hist brother was still unsure of the ways of their people. “I have thought far too much these past few hours. I would rather get there, to this home of the Bretons.”

“Ah, I see.” Said Tsleeixth, nodding in response to what Dax had told him. “From my question it should be obvious that I’m looking for a spot to think.” Spoke the spellsword before he sat next to his fellow saxhleel. He listened in silence as Daixanos spoke, “Is something the matter brother? You seem troubled, and if your comment is any indication you wish for a distraction from your thoughts.” He spoke, stretching his left leg as the pain in his knee began to manifest again. True to Wy’s words, the pain on his knee had lowered but it still remained present. 

“As for me, truth be told, there is much that I need to think about. The last week...it has left ample themes for me to contemplate.” Tsleeixth said, wincing slightly as his mind briefly returned to the events in Dawnstar “But, enough about me, there’s something that’s bothering you. Maybe it’s not my place to ask, or to offer this, but I’m here if you wish to talk about this.” He offered to Dax, hoping to help his fellow Argonian deal with whatever was troubling him. He knew that he was no counselor, like Wylendrield or other chaplain might have been; he was merely a spellsword, but he still wished to help his fellow Hist-brother with whatever that was troubling him. 

Daixanos sighed, a juttering sound escaping his gullet as he did so. So unlike the others in the group, or the Nords in Skyrim, a fact that had brought death and pain to the refugees in Dawnstar. “I lived alone with my thoughts for four years in the wilderness, and with the invasion I joined the group. Now I cannot trust my mind not to question why I am here...I feel I should be. My dreams tell me so, from what sleep I gather.” He let his comment end there, and he breathed in deeply. “I am perhaps not used to such closed in spaces as this. I will feel better in the land of the Bretons, I think.” 

Dax turned to Tslee. “And you, brother. What do you contemplate?” 

“Hmmm, I see. Maybe it’s the Hist telling you that you are on the right place? I’m no Pakseech, and my dreams as of late keep turning towards recent events, but perhaps you and I are meant to be here rather than in Blackmarsh with the rest of our brothers and sisters?” Offered Tsleeixth. Speaking as if he knew what the Hist intended left a bad taste in his mouth, he had no greater knowledge of Argonian culture but, as of late, he no longer had that dream of the Kamal army invading Blackmarsh. He doubted that it was a sign that the invasion of the nation of his birth had stopped, but maybe it was a sign that he, and Dax too perhaps, were in the right place?

“As for what I contemplate…” He said with a sigh, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds. “The events that happened in Dawnstar, my beating at the hands of the mob and the massacre of our brothers and sisters, have left me perturbed.” He admitted to Dax, “Before that day I...I considered Skyrim my homeland, it had been the place where I had grown most of my life after all, but now I know that was nothing more than a mere fantasy of my mind. I could never call Skyrim my homeland in truth, and yet…” He continued, falling silent once more as he gathered his errant thoughts. 

“I...I feel lost.” He admitted finally, his shoulders sagging as if he had been defeated “Skyrim is no homeland of mine and, yet, I’m not sure if I can call Blackmarsh my home either….I’m a Lukiul, the deeper mysteries of our people elude me.” Tsleeixth explained himself, shaking his head. “I’m as a leaf gliding in the waters of a river, always in movement with no place to truly call my home. At least, that’s how I feel.”  
Dax felt there was a certain irony with Tslee’s words. Daixanos felt no real divide between him and Skyrim as a whole, for he considered the very land itself as home, in a certain way. He had nothing against the Elk or the trees, or even the people of Rorikstead, whom he remembered fondly. However, he still felt as if Tsleeixth was more alike the landstriders than Dax could ever be, and in a foreign land that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

“The Northern cities were the closest ones to the Kamal invasions. They’re scared...confused. We should not tolerate oppression or imprisonment, but the landstriders have always been confused and driven by their base desires. That is the gamble we take with spending time with them, even if many are admirable and can grow to be friends, like those here on the Kyne’s Tear.” Dax placed a strong hand on his friend’s shoulder, and he looked at him with driven eye. “I merely confuse myself with my place. But never forget that Blackmarsh is the home to all of our kind, not only through location. But our very blood and souls. It will always be your home, whether you have seen it or not. One day, perhaps we will both go there.”

“I suppose that is true, but...it was like seeing through a veil that had been cast over my vision. I’m not naive, I’ve always known there was a division between our people and the...the landstriders.” He began to speak, pausing for a second to collect his thoughts. It felt weird to refer to the other races as landstriders, he had never even considered them like that even though he had heard both his father and the other saxhleel workers in the Riften fishery use the term plenty of times, but yet part of him found it appropriate to use the term. “But I never expected the divide to be this deep, or for there to be such hatred waiting in the depths of said divide.” 

He was surprised when he felt Dax place his hand on his shoulder, a smile drawing on his face. “Thank you brother.” He said once his friend was done speaking. He fell silent once more as he, again, gathered his thoughts, trying to explain how he felt to Dax. “I would like to go there with you, to Blackmarsh I mean, I think it’d do me good to see the homeland of our people...and yet, I can’t help but be unable to shake this...this fear that I’d be a stranger there.” He tried to explain himself to Dax, “As out of place as if an Imperial suddenly arrived there and decided to leave in the depths of Blackmarsh.” He said, slightly frustrated with himself. Why was it so difficult for himself to explain how he felt? “Do you understand what I’m trying to say brother?” 

Dax nodded, driven as always. “I do.” he said, knowing Tsleeixth only needed encouragement. In truth Daixanos did understand. He would feel a small trepidation going back himself after having been gone near six years. “But we are not so different from the landstriders, when it comes to social cues.” Dax breathed in deeply. “We are all children of the Hist, no matter what. And that can never be undone. Never forget.”  

Tsleeixth listened in silence as Daixanos spoke, nodding along when his fellow Hist-brother was done speaking. “Yes...I...I suppose that is true, thank you brother.” He said, his tone contemplative as he mulled over Dax’s words “Thank you Dax, you’ve given me a lot to think about...to contemplate about of my place in this world.” The spellsword said to his friend, smiling before he stood up. “I think I’ll take my leave now brother, but I once again thank you for your words.” Spoke Tsleeixth, bowing slightly to his friend. “But, for now, I think I’ll take my leave and try to get some rest. I do hope that you’ll feel better soon brother, but if you need to talk don’t be afraid to look for me.” He said before he left the upper deck of the ship, returning to the lower decks and to the hammock that had been assigned to him.