Tektuk: It is only because you will never read these glyphs that I can write them. After a lifetime of longing, I spent only a single night with Ili your mother, a memory that I cherished but she reviled, a burning coal of guilt she carried in her belly. And so I wonder: Was her guilt laid bare the night Signak our chieftain was killed? Did he discover the truth? Was she forced to defend herself? If only I had been there, to stand between them, to actually strike the blow I was punished for. At least then I would have been her champion, and the father you deserved, for a single moment. I paint this mark with eternal regret, and leave you this offering, though it will never touch the warmth of your hands.

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