image [https://i.imgur.com/UvduvtT.png]

That evening on my balcony, Berry held up a glass of white wine between us so that the pale liquid warped his smile, the glare of the setting sun sparking a golden crescent along the rim. The great egg cage of birds on the far side of our tower filled the air with a song of whistles and chirrups beyond comparison to the performance of any woodwind band of the empire's many strange peoples.

"To our continued success."

I leaned forward on my cushion, tapping my glass against his. "It seems that if two are better than one, then one as two is better than two."

He liked that, stifling his chortle with a slurp at his vino.

I had decided to keep my relationship with the Benezia and the empire my own personal secret, and the two of us chattered over the day's proceedings like a pair of contented hatchlings around a low table which was ornately tile topped in the Anequina fashion. Percy had been as good as his word, my entire apartment had been furnished to near perfection that afternoon — and I told him as much; yet even in my worshipfulness I did have to ask him if there wasn't a little splash of color he could afford to add as my tables, pillows, and plates all had the most wearying palate of black and white. He'd tried rebuffing my request with some nonsense about ''the austerity of my station' and the whole exchange had rather cooled me on Percy's presence — but I tolerated him as he was presently inside cooking our dinner.

Berry smacked his lips. "I have to say, I didn't expect His Perfection to drag you up beside the throne on day one like that. I would have warned you. I don't know how you managed to handle yourself so well on the fly like that."

"The same way you did, I suppose. I saw what you meant about him though, he's an impressive leader and could do great things for the people here." I swallowed some wine, watery stuff, but it would do the trick by volume. I eyed the bulb-like tower tops and dirty crenelations of some sandstone manors glowed warm orange with sunlight below. "I did want to ask you about Ro'kash however, when I first came into the city I saw some of his thugs brutalizing a poor sod, a local, it looked like they'd shaved his forehead as well…"

"His Lion Head Priests. Fanatics of our new order. I'm all for loyalty, but they follow the Mane's every word as a revelation — a little too revelatory if you catch my meaning. But they're useful in their way, but trust them like a wildfire, difficult to manage yet powerful all the same for their intensity. The members mostly come from second caste noble families, formerly ambitious priests of minor spirits, and similar aspirationals that think zealous devotion and hard work will get them ahead in court politics, or to put it more bluntly: idiots of the useful variety. Ro'kash leads them as much as they can be led, but I rather think he indulges their viciousness too much."

"Indeed. I thought they seemed a bit counter productive in their fervor."

"They're crude no doubt, and roughing people up for speaking out against our holy Mane is not my cup of tea either, but you have to understand that things are different here, and these are very unusual times. A bit of terror amongst the less loyal elements of society could be the difference between life and death for us if it comes to war."

"But surely it shouldn't come to an all-out war?" I asked.

"Surely, but we need war footing all the same if we hope to tip the balance of power towards us. And we’re so close to turning some of the wavering princes and chieftains, I think I have them on the edge of pledging loyalty to the one true Mane. Once they fall, our superior position will be obvious and you'll see the rest of the Elsweyr race to pledge with us like rats getting off a sinking ship."

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Percy scuttled out bearing two earthwear platters and a bowl perfectly balanced on his head. He placed them one by one with a clap on the tiled table in front of us: roast lizard (quartered, but the blackened legs still retained little clawed toes to eat around), disks of flat bread, and creamy white yogurt respectively (which animal had lactated it, I dared not imagine). We were to share the plates, again in the Khajiit style, which some celebrate as ‘communal eating’ although I have never in my life found the possession of my own plate to be a punishingly solitary experience.

I thanked him and asked if he'd be so good as to open another bottle before he left for the evening, glad to be rid of his judgmental eyes.

Lizard meat was far more palatable on this second attempt. I savored the quiet as much as the pleasant tang of the yogurt until clearing my throat. “Earlier, His Perfection mentioned spies of the lunar priests, would I be right in assuming that is related to the religious banishments I was told — I mean, that I’ve heard about?”

“Relics of the old ways. Most of them took the hint and bagged off, but there’s still an underground of some kind scheming to oust the Mane.”

“What are they doing?”

“Mostly just stealing our mail, trying to keep us from gaining the upper hands in the race for alliances. If you ask me they’d rather be imperial puppets than dare to be themselves, but to hear their propaganda it’s all about restoring the lunar order that Elsweyr was originally founded under.”

“Sounds harmless enough.”

“Well note that I said ‘so far’. We know they’re led by a shape shifter of some kind, so there’s a very real paranoia about an assassination attempt on the Mane. For us too — so don’t go off anywhere on your own if you can help it. The risk of them striking while His Perfection was on the road is one of the reasons we didn’t bother with Lucca’s peace conference — the other being that it was obviously a waste of time.”

Assassaination seemed a bit far-fetched, but I promised I would keep a guard as I rubbed my eyes, they still itched me terribly. Other Berry asked if I had something in them, and when I told him I did not he tutted to himself. "How foolish of me. You — we — have a Khajiit allergy." He rummaged in his pocket for a moment before sliding a glass vial to me; green powder lay within, a few stems clinking within as I shook it.

"What is it?"

"No idea, I have a lady downtown who makes it on demand though. I'll give you her address. Just add two pinches to your morning tea and it'll keep your sniffles at bay for the rest of the day."

I thanked him and added the suggested dose to my wine immediately. The bitter greenness of it on my tongue demolished the flavor profile, but almost immediately I could feel the wetness return to my eyes.

"Miraculous," I said, "thank you."

"Tis nothing, and besides I need you in fighting shape. Within a week we're expecting diplomats from Valenwood. Their backing could make or break us."

"I'm game, just tell me what I can do."

"Well — you know what, no. There will be time for all that later. Let's just enjoy our dinner, and why don't you tell me more about your own journey here? You mentioned you were riding high as a successful academic in the Imperial City."

"More or less," I said, and told him some version of the story between sips of bitter herb tinged wine. I mentioned the Blades interrogating me, but left out that I had made the journey under Benezia's watch.

He enjoyed the tale nonetheless, and seemed unsurprised that Imperial Intelligence had an interest in him. We went on to talk about various court personalities I'd met that day and got shamefully drunk.

The revelatory shock of our initial meeting had thawed totally, and I found myself in the company of someone who understood me in a way I had never experienced before. As we drank I realized I thought privately of him as a brother and I no longer as a 'deviator', which felt like some clinical nomenclature for a strange specie of creature; he was a man so like me yet apart in obvious ways. I would rub my beard often in conversation, the prickles reminding me again of this separation, yet just as we moved apart and out of rhythm, we were also in sequence and finished each other's thoughts and comprehended the true meaning behind one another's most incomprehensible drunken yammering. We continued late into the night, until my cheeks ached from smiling.

I have seen in my life that lies spoken aloud have a way of manifesting. I sometimes wonder if this is why we mortals are so easy to manipulate and be the toys of the Daedra (and often ourselves). Or perhaps it is only that we feel free to reveal our deepest desires under the shield of a lie, just as we also tend to deliver our most biting criticism in the sugared wrapping of a joke.