Enderdeit

"Defiance separates the brave from the scared and the brave from the stupid."

From the moment he was conceived, Enderdeit had dreams. Every second he spent asleep was another dream. In these dreams, words flew around him. He did not know how to speak, let alone open his mouth, but he still studied every word in his sleeping mind. One of these words stood out, it was bigger, it was louder, it was more frequent.

Defiance.

Defiance spoken in ten thousand different voices. Defiance, scrawled by a hundred thousand different hands. Defiance, said with a million different inflections.

When Enderdeit hatched, he stared into his mother's eyes and he felt a burning in his chest. A burning to finally speak. He opened his mouth and said the word "Defiance."

But when he did, it did not make ten thousand and one voices, it did not make a million and one inflections. It made... Nothing. When his mother looked at him quizzically, asking a question, Enderdeit understood. He saw her mouth move, but she was silent, he understood. He looked at his father, that was approaching slowly, speaking. He looked at his new siblings, mouths wide, crying, he understood. And he, too, began to cry, because he understood.

Enderdeit was deaf.

In the span of only six days, Enderdeit had created a hundred writings, a hundred speeches, a hundred phrases of words that all lined up. All in the mind of defiance. But there, laying on the ground in the Scarred Wasteland, he let them all turn to dust. His words, his writings, his speeches, were useless, because he could not speak.

He screamed. He screamed louder than his tundra sister that was double his size. He screamed louder than his fae brother, who was in much more pain than him. He screamed louder than any dragon in the Wasteland. But he didn't know that. Because he could not hear.

The night of his hatching was the hardest. He threw himself against the walls, he bit his own tongue until it bled, he scratched his brothers whenever they opened their mouths to speak.

Enderdeit could tell that they could hear. Enderdeit could tell that they didn't understand. Enderdeit could tell that they could speak. Enderdeit could tell that they didn't deserve it. Enderdeit could tell that they hadn't thought up every word they would say as soon as they met their mother, their father, the Plaguebringer. None of them were grateful. None of them knew! None of them deserved the gift that was taken from him!

Enderdeit didn't sleep. Not for four days. Until, his only fae sister approached. He was ready to attack her if she opened her mouth. She simply stood in front of him and pressed hard into the dirt with her nails.

With presicion, she drew out letters. "Delfenanamie." When she finished she looked back up at him. When their gazes met, he understood.

Delfenanamie knew that Enderdeit was deaf.

He stared at his sister, occasionally glancing down at her name. She, however, did not look down. She only looked him in the face, hoping to get through to him. He realized that this is what he wanted. Someone smart like him. Someone who actually thought inside those cursed eggs. Someone who thought and tried and understood.

Delfenanamie looked back down and began to scribble again. "Enderdeit." She looked up and pointed at him. He stared down at his name. He thought of forty different ways to pronounce it and four-hundred different inflections for each of those pronunciations, with in twenty seconds. His sister understood.

He began to write. Right there, in the dirt, Enderdeit moved his claws fast to get out something about defiance, bravery and heart. This is what Enderdeit needed, someone who would listen to his work, but in this case, she would have to read. Maybe she would imagine it in his voice. Maybe she would imagine his voice in many different pitches. Maybe she would imagine his writing with different emphasis on different words. Maybe she was like him. Maybe she knew how much words mattered. Maybe she knew how much words meant. Maybe she wouldn't take her gift for granted. Enderdeit only looked up for a moment to look at his sister, staring with quick moving eyes over his messy work, but he immediately looked back down. Delfenanamie had a voice, Enderdeit had a mind... Maybe she understood that he wanted her and him to work together.

Delfenanamie wore a satchel. Delfenanamie hugged her mother. Delfenanamie shed a tear. Delfenanamie hugged her tundra sister. This was it. Delfenanamie was leaving the clan, when there were only eight members. What for? Enderdeit didn't know. He was deaf. They spoke about it at dinner. Enderdeit just sat eating bugs, writing speech after speech, while his family spoke to each other. Enderdeit was out of the loop and he blamed his arrogant family for not trying to communicate with him, but in the moment where Delfenanamie held her mother... Their mother, Enderdeit realized it was his own fault. He was the one that locked himself away. He was the one that didn't bother to read lips. He was the one that didn't ask them to write something down for him. They would have. He knows they would have because the look of real pain and longing in all their eyes as Delfenanamie readied herself for a long flight, showed that they all cared. Enderdeit ran to his pile of speeches, grabbing every single paper he could fit in his tiny hands. He made sure to grab a specific one. The one about defiance.

"In my mind, I can feel the currents of the world. They point to a ruler and a lawed land. Follow this ruler and be rewarded, follow these laws and not be punished. But what is a reward without pain and what is a punishment without triumph? In the eyes of a ruler, defiance is treason. In the eyes of a follower, defiance is a spark. Your ruler will punish you for defiance. Your ruler's followers will stare at you for defiance. Treason is nothing. A spark is nothing. Unless you make it something.
"Defiance will separate nothing from something. Defiance will separate reward from victory. Defiance will separate pain from punishment. Defiance will separate the revolutionaries from the followers. Defiance separates the brave from the scared and the brave from the stupid.
"Assume you will be torn down. Assume you will be punished. Assume no one will stand up for you. Assume no one will fight for you. Assume you will die. Assume you will be forgotten​. Because when you are, and you will be, you won't beg for mercy, you won't yell for your friends, you won't relinquish your cause nor your hope. It doesn't matter if no one stands for you because only you will stand the tallest. It doesn't matter if they break you because you know your life was worth something. Your defiance was something.
"In my mind I can feel the currents of the world. They point to a place that I can see, but I can not hear. They speak to me, but I can not listen. The currents tell me to give up, that my voice is worth nothing, but I know that my defiance towards these currents mean everything."

It was Siengfree that approached Enderdeit as he hid away shortly after his sister's departure. She had already written a couple things on a piece of parchment to say to him. When it was handed to him, Enderdeit was surprised to notice how large he was compared to his mother, but not surprised enough. He was more excited to read Siengfree's hand writing, to see words in yet another form.

Siengfree's hand writing was nothing like Delfenanamie's, like he expected. Delfenanamie wrote with intention, precision and artistic focus. Siengfree had obviously had a lot on her mind and the feeling to get it all out before it was forgotten. Similar to Enderdeit, who wrote fast so that he could move on to his next notion as quickly as possible. Not because he would forget, just because he wanted to. Siengfree knew what she wanted to write but obviously second guessed herself. Her handwriting reminded him of his own and his sister's at the same time. Enderdeit read it with hesitation, hoping the words would remind him of his own thoughts.

"I can see your face when I speak louder than normal. I can see the look of mistrust," with the word 'distrust' scribbled out. "I know you can not hear what I say, but I know you understand every word.
"I remember your hatch day. It was a very important day to me. You were the first one to open your eyes and look at me. You said a word, a single word, and then you began to cry, yell, and scream. I did not understand and I was already so scared, I set you aside, I apologize," with the 'Z' sloppily done on top of an 'S'
"Your sister, however, refused to do such a thing. I heard her, saying your words, and I always knew which ones were yours because you always spoke of defiance, loyalty, and bravery. You have such a wise mind," that sentence written with more artistic value, much like Delfenanamie. "I was so interested, I wish I could have heard more, but I was a fool."
"When I asked your sister, she told me everything. Your thoughts about gifts, leaders, followers, and reliance, I didn't know what it all meant. But I knew it meant something to you.
"Your sister isn't like you, not exactly. She understands people, there is so much empathy," with the word 'sympathy' crossed out, "in her heart. That is why she had to leave. She is a messenger, not a creator, like you. She carries messages, she does not make them.
"With her now, she carries hundreds of messages, some I asked her to give to the Plaguebringer, some I asked her to save for herself, some I asked her to give to the strongest fae alive, but most," the word 'most' was crossed out three times, but the fourth was left in the sentence, "of them belong to you. Now, my son, I ask you, What did you give her? What have you written?"




Delfenanamie has been gone for almost two months, not that Enderdeit was counting or anything like that. In the meantime, the clan has nearly tripled in size, strength, and... Unity. Tonight is Mówiaca Noc speaking night. Enderdeit looked at his rough and the copy of his final draft back and forth. He noticed a spelling error in the word "necessary" from his rough draft. He was embarrassed only for himself.

Behind him, his brother Siengdeanon nervously let out his anxiety by saying everything that could go wrong and then how he would handle it. Enderdeit knew this because Fireweaver told him in a crude letter. Enderdeit often read this letter written by Fireweaver that complained about every member of the clan in a clever and humorous manner. The only one spared from the sullen banter was Siengfree. She wasn't even mentioned.

Enderdeit liked Fireweaver. Fireweaver knew pain, just like Enderdeit. Fireweaver knew loyalty, just like Enderdeit. And in that brutish handwriting, on the slice of paper that Enderdeit kept in a small worn chest with the rest of his favorite letters, Enderdeit found his only form of comfort.

Siengdeanon wouldn't shut up. Enderdeit knew he mumbled constantly. He was very different from the rest of their siblings where he really only interacted with their parents and a small glowing familiar. Enderdeit just stared at him, wishing he had been more persistent with his mother.

He told her that this speech was important and that someone special had to do it. He was hoping she would do it. She said Siengdeanon would be perfect. Enderdeit threw up in his mouth. He barely had any respect for any of his siblings that weren't Delfenanamie. Siengdeanon was the one with the least. Siengfree told him that Siengdeanon can surprise him. Enderdeit pretended to laugh.

In the end, Siengfree won. She always won. Everything she did.

Enderdeit sighed and fluttered to Siengdeanon, placing a hand on his shoulder. He understood that he would never feel stage fright because he'd never go on a stage, but he tried to put himself in the place of Siengdeanon. He failed to do so. How could someone be uncertain after so much practice?

His brother took a deep breath and nodded.

Everyone sat quietly. Enderdeit placed himself next to the male clan leader, (and his hero) Fireweaver. The older bogsneak only smiled. They looked up to Siengdeanon as he stood in front of everyone, silent. Enderdeit flattened his look and turned to make a smug face at Siengfree, but a sound stopped him.

A sound.

Enderdeit quickly looked back up at his brother.

Siengdeanon was pacing, slowly, coordinated, precise, with intention. He moved each foot, each brow, each wing, each muscle, with a purpose. But it was his mouth that Enderdeit stared at.

He could hear him.

Well... Not really.

He could feel it.

With his small claws, elbows and tail touching the ground, Enderdeit could feel the bass in Siengdeanon's voice. His voice was so deep, so full of rich low sounds, that is made the ground vibrate enough for Enderdeit to feel. Enderdeit stared down and pushed his body as hard as he could against the ground.

He could feel Siengdeanon's words, wait no-- his words, his work, his writing, right there on the ground. The bass hit hard, or it barely hit at all. And as he stared down at the ground, Enderdeit began to cry.

The only voice he could hear was Siengdeanon's. His brother's voice He could hear his brother's voice. Enderdeit couldn't help but think, I love my brother's voice.