Kha'jay Var Zrini

Masser and Secunda. They are the eyes of Azurah, ever watching and guiding Khajiiti always. They are the beginning, they are the end. The first and the last. Her tears, they fall from the sky as a blessing to all Khajiit, fertilising the earth of the forests of Elsweyr and growing to become the most enriching and sacred of all he revere's: Kha'jay var -the moon sugar. But why does Khajiit consume the tears of his god? Why does he tend to the canes and pray and consume? Well, that is something this one will try his best to explain. Picture a small child. This child has waited many moons to see his mother again. What does the mother do? It does not matter. Why has she been away from her litter? It does not matter. The child has waited many moons and finally she is coming home. There is only one thing that this little child has had to remember her by, and that is some sweetrolls. Mother makes delicious sweetrolls all day for little cub when she is home and she leaves them for him when she is away. This little cub, this little boy, he tastes her sweetrolls and he instantly feels her, he feels ecstasy and love and happiness that only she can bring to him, for as a child, mother is god. She is Azurah, she is Lorkhaj, she is Alkosh and Mara combined.

The little boy gets older now. His mother soon will pass. Before her time comes, she passes the sweetroll recipe to her cub. The boy is grown now, his mother long passed. However with the recipe, he will be able to feel her and remember her and love her always. He will be able to make her sweetrolls just as she did - to be able to grow, to pray, to consume. When khajiit grows and makes the moon sugar, he feels closer to the warm embrace of the first litter mates than at any other time. His eyes dazzle and his whiskers tingle and the moons they shine brighter than ever before. Sh'trock knows in his heart that Azurah is the true keeper of the khaj. Every night she gazes upon glorious khajiiti brethren and decides their fate by her own decree. Waxing and waning. Crying with joy for her children. She brings the new day, she brings the crops and she guides us all to warm sands. Var Fusozay my friend's.