[center][h3][code]Reunion[/code][/h3][hr]
[b]11th of Last Seed, Afternoon
Jehanna[/b][/center]


The deed was done and as far as Dar’Jzo was concerned, that was that. It was foul business, but there was nothing else to ruminate on.

In truth, it wasn’t the individual jobs that marked him, it was the lifestyle in and of itself – the jobs were simply one part of the larger framework. What disturbed Dar’Jzo where his memories of the life of crime he led in his youth. He remembered the anguished faces of skooma-addled sugar-paws in Senchal, knowing full well that the poison he concocted were stealing their lives and happiness away and slowly killing them. He remembered the gang violence that he took part in, conducting hits on rivaling dealers in anticipation of the very same being done to him. In his quest for the survival and nourishment of his family, he lived an immoral life kept secret from his family. Some might even say evil, and Dar’Jzo would not argue with them, for he could sleep well at night fully aware of the consequences of his actions as long as he could rationalize it as being for the good of [i]his[/i] family, and what it took for him to finally end the lifestyle was for the consequences to turn and take his lover away from him.

It took him a long time after that to come to terms with those consequences. Perhaps he never did, at least not entirely. It was unfair for his old life to take Lalana on an early path the Sands Behind the Stars instead of him, who deserved life far less than she did. That said, it was an earth-shaking wake-up call that gave him a chance to see the error of his ways and an opportunity to change and redeem himself in the eyes of his gods, and to be there for his grandson in the capacity that he was incapable of fulfilling for his daughter. He spent several years, slowly finding peace with himself, until it was time to sacrifice that peace for the sake of his grandson. The Mane and his spymaster, Ra’gajal, took his happily ever after from him and forced him into a life of subterfuge and murder; to tread through Sangiin’s hollow. So the individual jobs couldn’t faze him, he already knew how to disassociate himself from his actions and how to rationalize them. What disturbed him was his return to the immoral lifestyle and that retirement seemed to be a far, distant dream.

That’s why, Dar’Jzo thought, it was so important to find Saddi. Once he could ensure the safety of his grandson, all deals were off. As far as he was aware, he was Ra’gajal’s only eyes in this region. If he were to disappear, no one would know the truth, and Saddi would be safe under his careful watch. Now that Dumhuvud was no longer a danger, he could search for Saddi with ease. He was supposed to have met with Edith today to inherit one of the dead’s old bow to replace the one he had, which was destroyed in the battle, but that would have to wait for now.

Sadri, on the other hand, was supposed to have been traveling here by wagon along with other College refugees. Perish the thought that he could be wounded, but that was the thought that first entered his mind as a worried grandfather. He first checked where the injured were being held, but was simultaneously relieved and disappointed to find no Saddi – not even a khajiit. No one who wore robes looked like students or academics of any sort. It raised even more questions about where Saddi could possibly be. He took very well to the Baandari culture and was a shrewd salesperson; a snakeoil salesperson, but a salesperson nonetheless. He had a knack for illusions and sleight of hand, and the last he recalled, he was learning how to be an enchanter. He may have been at a local mystic’s shop. Perhaps he was perusing magical wares since he seemed to be so interested in smoke and mirrors – [i]kids.[/i]

But he wasn’t there either. Dar’Jzo entered the store being ran by an older Breton woman, probably around his own age, who was keeping an eye on a younger shopper perusing through her merchandise. Her eyes trailed over to meet Dar’Jzo’s cold eyes, but it did little to diffuse her own warmth. She said, “Good evening! How can I help ya, sweetheart?”

“Have you seen a young khajiit?” Dar’Jzo responded candidly. “Gray Suthay-raht with black stripes and white splotches.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied remorsefully, “no one like that has come in lately.”

“What’s their name?” Suddenly asked the man looking around the store. He was a young Imperial fellow of Nibenese descent who seemed to be eyeballing Dar’Jzo carefully, who, in turn, set his cold gaze on him. He knew something.

“Saddi. Of clan Baandari.”

“And you…?”

“He is Dar’Jzo’s…” Dar’Jzo stopped for a second and hesitated, realizing that Dar’Jzo was not the same person. “He is Dro’kil’s grandson.”

The Imperial boy’s eyes lit up with what seemed like a look of recognition, as if he was meeting a famous person for the first time, and suddenly Dar’Jzo was wondering what Saddi has been saying about him. The boy stammered, “For real? U-uh, yeah, okay. Okay. Um, yeah, Saddi’s in town. I’m Lulius. Or, uh, Lu if you’d rather.”

“Where is he?” Dar’Jzo continued, cutting through the bullshit.

“Right, uh… Saddi’s been… well, you know what happened to the College of Winterhold, right? Utterly destroyed. A lot of our friends died. Saddi is normally larger than life, but he didn’t take it very well. He’s been trying to talk to the Legion Reserves camp a lot lately. I don’t know what his plans are, but I’m worrid about him.”

Dar’Jzo didn’t stick around long enough to ask any further questions, walking out as soon as he had a location, leaving a stunned and nervous Imperial named Lu to his own devices as he went searching for the Imperial Reserves encampmet. What was Saddi thinking? That boy might not have known the true extent of the sacrifices Dar’Jzo made for him, but surely he did know – or at least figured – that he had to pull a lot of strings to get him off the hook for the draft. Now here he was, itching for a fight. What was he gonna do with that cub?

The encampment wasn’t hard to find. Keeping on the made road in town brought him to the front gates of the city, and situated outside were a series of tents and cabins.The colors of a slender Imperial flag rippled high in the air, and many soldiers seemed hard at work to keep logistics on the up and up and their skills sharp. As he stepped deeper into the encampment, he saw a few men and women who were circled around a campfire, and among them, a gray khajiit with black stripes and white splotches, wearing a blue short-sleeved robe over a burgundy shirt and a gray sash across his waist. Sitched into the fabric looked like handmade patterns which reflected Khajiiti culture, and they were tending the cooking pot that sat on what looked like an old, grated metal footstool above it – Saddi. Saddi was always crafty and loved to cook for others. The nature of Lu’s description contrasted with the sight Dar’Jzo saw before him. As he tended the cooking pot, he seemed to be entertaining the Legionaires, probably feeding them some kind of bullshit story or another in addition to the stew he was making. Dar’Jzo could smell it from here; it was one of Saddi’s favorite and iconic recipies, and he called it Saddi’s Senchal Stew, apparently shirking creativity in favor of alliteration and having his name attached to something. He always did have a penchant for desiring some kind of fame.

His staring caught the attention of some of the soldiers sitting around the campsite, who in turn stared back and muttered to one another suspiciously. One of them nudged looked at Saddi and nudged their head towards Dar’Jzo’s direction, and when Saddi turned his head in his direction, time seemed to stand still. Blessed be Alkosh, who granted Dar’Jzo what felt like an eternity to stare upon his grandson’s face within the breadth of a moment. Their eyes were locked upon each other, as if neither of them could believe that the other was standing before them. Dar’Jzo took a small step forward, and suddenly Saddi came sprinting from across the camp. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, his grandson crossed the distance and wrapped his arms around him. Dar’Jzo felt his heart swell and returned the gesture, squeezing him tight and not wanting to let go. It was as if he feared that if he did, then he would slip from his grasp and he’d never see him again. He was holding him, he was [i]real[/i], and he silently prayed to the Gods to finally let him have this one moment.

“Grandfather…” Saddi breathed into his his shoulder. His accent of his voice was not as heavily accented as Dar’Jzo’s, the result of growing up in a far more cosmopolitan Senchal than his grandfather did. “How?”

“This one heard of the news… so he charted a few boats to find you.” Dar’Jzo softly whispered back. This prompted a minor laugh of disbelief from Saddi.

“But you loathe water.”

“Yes,” Dar’Jzo admitted, “but he is loath to lose you even more.”

This time, the laughter from Saddi seemed more genuine. He said, “That was a pun. Really? A joke from [i]you?[/i] Gods, the world really is ending, isn’t it?”

As if hearing his voice pulled Dar’Jzo back into reality, his frustration began to catch up with his joy and relief. The hand he kept rest on one of Saddi’s shoulder slid across his back and held the back of his head… before suddenly tightening his grip on his grandson’s scruff and pulled back on it.

“Gah!” Saddi suddenly yelped, putting himself at Dar’Jzo’s mercy as his body and limbs locked up and he stood on his toes, keeping himself still in Dar’Jzo’s grip as if the latter had complete and total control over him with one little movement. Though still, his eyes darted down toward him and he managed a sheepish grin. Dar’Jzo met it with a cold, stern glare.

“What are you thinking?” He asked. “This one goes through the effort of pulling many strings so that his [i]ma’jor[/i] can live his best life. Then, when he crosses the oceans of Tamriel to find out if Saddi survived the Akavir, he finds him licking soldiers’ boots?”

“Pops, listen…”

“[i]Pops?[/i] What is this pops?”

“[i]Dro’ahnurr[/i] – listen… it’s more complicated than that.”

“Hm?” Dar’Jzo urged inquisitively, pulling him closer by the scruff, though the inflection in his grunting sounded more unconvinced than curious. As he did, though, he looked at Saddi in his eyes as a wave of remorse and grief washed over him. When this dawned on him, Dar’Jzo slowly released his grip from the back of Saddi’s neck, who was now beginning to relax. His shoulders were now slumped.

“What you heard was right. The Akavir attacked the College. [i]Dro’ahnur,[/i] I… I lost so many friends there. I lost my [i]future.[/i]” Saddi said as his voice slowly beginning to enter a growl. His hands were tightening into fists. “I can’t leave everyone behind me after something like that.”

“Yes you can.” Dar’Jzo said flatly as he began to turn back. “Come now, we’re going home.”

Saddi looked at Dar’Jzo indignantly, his mouth agape, and a fire beginning to stir in his eyes. “W-what? No! I can’t just go back!”

[i]“Yes,”[/i] Dar’Jzo repeated, [i]“you can.”[/i]

“We’re past this now.” Saddi asserted with anger rising in his voice. “I’m no cub anymore. You can’t make me leave. Look – I – you – how did you even find me? How’d you know where to even look?”

“This one found passage with the company of mercenaries. They do not matter now. We should leave before they understand that Dar’Jzo is not one of them.”

“Dar’Jzo?” Saddi repeated in bewilderment. “Who is that? And are you talking about Gustav’s company?”

Dar’Jzo paused for a moment and looked at Saddi carefully. He asked, “What do you know about Gustav?”

“He came by last night to talk to speak with the General, I think. Word had already traveled around about the ship carrying a mercenary crew that did battle with the Akavir, so we figured it had something to do with that. Are you saying those are the mercenaries you’ve been travelling with?”

Dar’Jzo said nothing in response, fearing that anything he said would only fuel his whims.

“Is it true?” Saddi pressed.

Dar’Jzo reluctantly replied, “…This one has not seen or fought with any Akavir.”

“No, that was the Golden Sload, wasn’t it?” Saddi said. “I heard the stories. You would’ve been there, wouldn’t you? Dro’ahnurr, why have I never known you could fight?”

“There is a lot you do not know about your dro’ahnurr, ma’jor. Perhaps it is for the best.” Dar’Jzo said cryptically. “But this is no place or time to discuss such things. There is no honor in being a mercenary. We must leave.”

Saddi shook his head, steeling his resolve. “I’m not going.” He said frankly. “Introduce me to the company. I’m going to join them.”

“You will certainly not.”

“And why not?”

“Why should you?”

“So I can be at peace!” Saddi raised his voice. “So that when the Akavir get what’s coming to them, I can rest easy knowing that I played my part!”

[i]“Revenge?”[/i] Dar’Jzo hissed, leaning forward into Saddi’s face, his voice getting deeper and deeper until it became a snarl. “Does Saddi think he can stomach that sort of burden? Does he think that a few dead monsters can fill that cold little hole his friends left him with, or that he can carry that hot piece of ember without getting burned?”

Then his snarling turned to roars,[i] “Because Dro’kil thought the same! Dro’kil thought the same when Saddi’s [/i]dra’fado[i], Lalana, lay dead in his arms! That pain will NEVER go away! You will not honor your friends by throwing your life away!”[/i]

There was a moment of silence between the two of them – too silent. Dar’Jzo looked around and realized that he was still in the encampment, and all of the Legion soldiers were staring the tumultuous reunion  between a grandfather and his grandson. He found himself taking heavy breaths after his outburst, and his eyes darted back down at Saddi, who just looked somberly back at him with his ears flattened. Dar’Jzo made a deep and heavy sigh of defeat.

“Dro’kil was not there for Dra’datta when it mattered the most.” He resigned, as if he was admitting defeat. “He would not deserve to find warm sands if he was also not there for you.”

[i]Dro’ahnurr…”[/i] Saddi rasped pitifully. “They destroyed my second home. They killed my friends…”

Dar’Jzo dipped his head in understanding and said, “Then truthfully? There is no way this one can convince you to walk away?”

Saddi shook his head no. Dar’Jzo sighed as he began to feel the weight being placed on his chest and shoulders once more. He looked around at the Legion soldiers around them and shook his head, before placing his hand on top of Saddi’s and said, “If Baandari is good at something, then they never do it for free. Speak to Edith. The company recently lost its leadership, so chain of command captains the quartermaster. The company will need someone to pick up her former duties. They need a new quartermaster.”

Saddi suddenly wrapped his arms around Dar’Jzo and rested his head on his grandfather’s shoulder and muttered a thanks under his breath.

“I love you.” He also said.

Dar’Jzo held him too, once again finding gratitude and relief that Saddi was safe. Still, there was an inkling of doubt in the back of his head. An air of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing here or not.

“Dro’kil loves you, too.” He uttered back gently, but in his mind, he was saying something very different.

[i]‘Mother Cat, what have I done?’[/i]