It is tradition for all Argonians to receive a trinket of a kind from his mother in the midst of his teen years as a part of an adulthood ceremony. Since I didn't have a mother, Siiq-Dar was the next best thing (even if I had known my mother, Siiq-Dar would be my first choice, he adds). I remember, with his furry fingers it was difficult for him to lodge the iron band onto my horn. He struggled with it so much, that he had to use both his hands to press it down properly in order to assure that it wouldn't come off again. Since then, of course, my horns have grown and it would be impossible to get it off today. I appreciate that he would help me stay in touch with Argonian tradition even though Bravil's beast race inhabitants aren't exactly known for their open-mindedness. From an unknowing spectator's point of view, it would have looked like a grown up Khajiit in his skooma haze physically abusing a tiny, skinny lizard - which is more or less what it was. He did the ritual oil drawings on my face and I guided him through the chanting of which I wasn't quite sure, I had only heard the words at someone else's ceremony and didn't remember them very well. At the time I didn't quite realize that I had become a burden to Siiq-Dar, I adored him. He was the only one I had to look up to so I worshiped him completely. And he knew it. And he used it. For all I know, the rings he gave me for my Rei-Skaiaki might as well have been some I had fished out of someone's pocket myself. But he was I had. I often wonder what happened to him after I left. If he is even still alive.
- Gabriella on behalf of Tjar-Rei
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