Disclosure on the Hist, part 3 - On Becoming Argonian

I am discoursing enough on the hist and the Trees. What does any of it mean to you? My hope is that it means change.

I like the name you give to change. Sithis. It slides through the air in the lungs like a knife, barely touching the tongue. If you stand in a grove, at pitch-black night, or in the interior of a cave, devoid of life, and whisper it to the void, it will break the silence, echoing change through the air, creating substance out of nothingness.

Let me tell you something about the power of change. It envelops the unexpected, the horrible and the beautiful with the same charm a Shit-Feathers regurgitates food for its offspring. At the break of dawn, with the sunlight barely making through the mist, see a young man smelling of sand, blood and murky waters crawling into my village. His bones are visible beneath a layer of flesh thinner than the scales of a hatchling. His skin says Redguard, but his eyes...

His eyes scream Argonian.

His given name is Alikur, but I renamed him Je-Lluxil, "Journeys-With-Virtue". He says after years of being confused, learning and forgetting how to ignore voices in his mind, he woke up at night, abandoned his house, where he lived alone, with nothing but the clothes in his body, and walked in the direction where the voice was stronger. His belly didn't take long to roar, but still he walked. His smell soon began to frighten everything with a nose that passed through him, but still he walked. No rain could stop him, no guards could halt him. Not even arrows could break his determination. To walk from Hammerfell to Black Marsh with nothing to eat, nothing to drink, breaking bones and cutting skin without weakening. It's unnatural, but not impossible.

I do not lie when I say the hist is more common to the Arena than people. In this man, they speak with unusual intensity for his birthplace. I treat his wounds myself. I wash him, feed him, give him to drink and show him a revelation. He collapses with his first injestion of the sap. He wakes up speaking fluent Atron, and his mind truly begins to change as the Aurbic Present becomes visible for him.

Je-Lluxil is next to me as I write this. He tends to the Hist tree in our village daily. We are all very proud of him. You see, the Hist are present wherever​ someone is willing to listen to them. This man is the reason I write these texts. I welcome more like him. If my words resonate within you, don't hesitate. Follow your instincts and that voice behind your skull.

The Hist calls to you.