Regnant Lore:
“No one is hatched a Kell.” —Mithrax
The House of Light had no Barons, no Archons, no other Eliksni in any position of authority. Thus, it had fallen to Scribe Eido to assume a Kell’s duties in Misraaks’s absence.
She was forced to abandon her books. After all, there were supply lines to oversee, Ether stores to maintain, negotiations to conduct. She spent her mornings distributing Ether to the hatchlings and the afternoons brokering deals with Spider. The rest of the day had been spent listening to the concerns of her father’s people. Her people.
Now, Eido was greeting a lone Eliksni who had come to her among the civilians Devrim sent from the EDZ. He was trembling so nervously she was worried he would fall apart. Even as they sat together in the Botza District, surrounded by fellow Eliksni, he kept glancing upward at the Great Machine. Eido didn’t know if it was with wonder or terror.
“I act on behalf of my father, Misraakskel of House Light.” She spoke gently and in their shared language, trying to ease his fear. “I am Eido, Scribe of our House.”
“Aa-ee-doh,” the Dreg repeated. He practiced her Awoken name a few times until he could pronounce it. “My name is Thrysiks. Houseless.”
“Thrysiks. You’ve done a very brave thing,” she assured him. “There are many like you who have defected from House Salvation. We will care for you here. You are safe with us.”
Eido told him how they had come to live in the City. How they were welcomed and protected. How the Light had provided for them. When she had finished the story of her House, Thrysiks raised his two arms and bowed his head. He had stopped shaking, but he still spoke with a tremor in his voice.
“Thank you, Eidokel.”
Eido lowered her head. She could not stop herself from chittering quietly in delight.
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