Feyfolken Feyfolken is a worth - checked fiction written by Waughin Jarth . It tells a story of the scribe Thaurbad and his enchanted quill , " Feyfolken . " The quill , having been enchanted by a Daedric soul gem , was a gift from Clavicus Vile . While at first assisting Thaurbad in his duties to the Temple of Auri - El , the quill eventually cursed its owner to write foreboding messages of suicide . Having sacrificed his only purpose in life , Thaurbad commits suicide and his soul is claimed by Clavicus Vile . Content . Feyfolken , Book I . Feyfolken Book One by Waughin Jarth The Great Sage was a tall , untidy man , bearded but bald . His library resembled him : all the books had been moved over the years to the bottom shelves where they gathered in dusty conglomerations . He used several of the books in his current lecture , explaining to his students , Taksim and Volguldak , how the Mages Guild had first been founded by Vanus Galerion . They had many questions about Galerion ' s beginnings in the Psijic Order , and how the study of magic there differed from the Mages Guild . " It was , and is , a very structured way of life , " explained the Great Sage . " Quite elitist , actually . That was the aspect of it Galerion most objected to . He wanted the study of magic to be free . Well , not free exactly , but at least available to all who could afford it . In doing that , he changed the course of life in Tamriel . " " He codified the praxes and rituals used by all modern potionmakers , itemmakers , and spellmakers , didn ' t he , Great Sage ? " asked Vonguldak . " That was only part of it . Magic as we know it today comes from Vanus Galerion . He restructured the schools to be understandable by the masses . He invented the tools of alchemy and enchanting so everyone could concoct whatever they wanted , whatever their skills and purse would allow them to , without fears of magical backfire . Well , eventually he created that . " " What do you mean , Great Sage ? " asked Taksim . " The first tools were more automated than the ones we have today . Any layman could use them without the least understanding of enchantment and alchemy . On the Isle of Artaeum , the students had to learn the skills laboriously and over many years , but Galerion decided that was another example of the Psijics ' elitism . The tools he invented were like robotic master enchanters and alchemists , capable of creating anything the customer required , provided he could pay . " " So someone could , for example , create a sword that would cleave the world in twain ? " asked Vonguldak . " I suppose , in theory , but it would probably take all the gold in the world , " chuckled the Great Sage . " No , I can ' t say we were ever in very great danger , but that it isn ' t to say that there weren ' t a few unfortunate incidents where a unschooled yokel invented something beyond his ken . Eventually , of course , Galerion tore apart his old tools , and created what we use today . It ' s a little elitist , requiring that people know what they ' re doing before they do it , but remarkably practical . " " What did people invent ? " asked Taksim . " Are there any stories ? " " You ' re trying to distract me so I don ' t test you , " said the Great Sage . " But I suppose I can tell you one story , just to illustrate a point . This particular tale takes place in city of Alinor on the west coast of Summurset Isle , and concerns a scribe named Thaurbad . This was in the Second Era , not long after Vanus Galerion had first founded the Mages Guild and chapter houses had sprung up all over Summerset , though not yet spread to the mainland of Tamriel . For five years , this scribe , Thaurbad , had conducted all his correspondence to the outside world by way of his messenger boy , Gorgos . For the first year of his adoption of the hermit life , his few remaining friends and family - - friends and family of his dead wife , truth be told - - had tried visiting , but even the most indefatigable kin gives up eventually when given no encouragement . No one had a good reason to keep in touch with Thaurbad Hulzik , and in time , very few even tried . His sister - in - law sent him the occasional letter with news of people he could barely remember , but even that communication was rare . Most of messages to and from his house dealt with his business , writing the weekly proclamation from the Temple of Auri - El . These were bulletins nailed on the temple door , community news , sermons , that sort of thing . The first message Gorgos brought him that day was from his healer , reminding him of his appointment on Turdas . Thaurbad took a while to write his response , glum and affirmative . He had the Crimson Plague , which he was being treated for at considerable expense - - you have to remember these were the days before the School of Restoration had become quite so specialized . It was a dreadful disease and had taken away his voicebox . That was why he only communicated by script . The next message was from Alfiers , the secretary at the church , as curt and noxious as ever : " THAURBAD , ATTACHED IS SUNDAS ' S SERMON , NEXT WEEK ' S EVENTS CALENDAR , AND THE OBITUARIES . TRY TO LIVEN THEM UP A LITTLE . I WASN ' T HAPPY WITH YOUR LAST ATTEMPT . " Thaurbad had taken the job putting together the Bulletin before Alfiers joined the temple , so his only mental image of her was purely theoretical and had evolved over time . At first he thought of Alfiers as an ugly fat sloadess covered with warts ; more recently , she had mutated into a rail - thin , spinster orcess . Of course , it was possible his clairvoyance was accurate and she had just lost weight . Whatever Alfiers looked like , her attitude towards Thaurbad was clear , unwavering disdain . She hated his sense of humor , always found the most minor of misspellings , and considered his structure and calligraphy the worst kind of amateur work . Luckily , working for a temple was the next most secure job to working for the good King of Alinor . It didn ' t bring in very much money , but his expenses were minimal . The truth was , he didn ' t need to do it anymore . He had quite a fortune stashed away , but he didn ' t have anything else to occupy his days . And the truth was further that having little else to occupy his time and thoughts , the Bulletin was very important to him . Gorgos , having delivered all the messages , began to clean and as he did so , he told Thaurbad all the news in town . The boy always did so , and Thaurbad seldom paid him any attention , but this time he had an interesting report . The Mages Guild had come to Alinor . As Thaurbad listened intently , Gorgos told him all about the Guild , the remarkable Archmagister , and the incredible tools of alchemy and enchanting . Finally , when the lad had finished , Thaurbad scribbled a quick note and handed it and a quill to Gorgos . The note read , " Have them enchant this quill . " " It will be expensive , " said Gorgos . Thaurbad gave Gorgos a sizeable chunk of the thousands of gold pieces he had saved over the years , and sent him out the door . Now , Thaurbad decided , he would finally have the ability to impress Alfiers and bring glory to the Temple of Auri - El . The way I ' ve heard the story , Gorgos had thought about taking the gold and leaving Alinor , but he had come to care for poor old Thaurbad . And even more , he hated Alfiers who he had to see every day to get his messages for his master . It wasn ' t perhaps for the best of motivations , but Gorgos decided to go to the Guild and get the quill enchanted . The Mages Guild was not then , especially not then , an elitist institution , as I have said , but when the messenger boy came in and asked to use the Itemmaker , he was greeted with some suspicion . When he showed the bag of gold , the attitude melted , and he was ushered in the room . Now , I haven ' t seen one of the enchanting tools of old , so you must use your imagination . There was a large prism for the item to be bound with magicka , assuredly , and an assortment of soul gems and globes of trapped energies . Other than that , I cannot be certain how it looked or how it worked . Because of all the gold he gave to the Guild , Gorgos could infuse the quill with the highest - price soul available , which was something daedric called Feyfolken . The initiate at the Guild , being ignorant as most Guildmembers were at that time , did not know very much about the spirit except that it was filled with energy . When Gorgos left the room , the quill had been enchanted to its very limit and then some . It was virtually quivering with power . Of course , when Thaurbad used it , that ' s when it became clear how over his head he was . " And now , " said the Great Sage . " It ' s time for your test . " " But what happened ? What were the quill ' s powers ? " cried Taksim . " You can ' t stop the tale there ! " objected Vonguldak . " We will continue the tale after your conjuration test , provided you both perform exceptionally well , " said the Great Sage . Feyfolken , Book II . Feyfolken Book Two by Waughin Jarth After the test had been given and Vonguldak and Taksim had demonstrated their knowledge of elementary conjuration , the Great Sage told them that they were free to enjoy the day . The two lads , who most afternoons fidgeted through their lessons , refused to leave their seats . " You told us that after the test , you ' d tell us more of your tale about the scribe and his enchanted quill , " said Taksim . " You ' ve already told us about the scribe , how he lived alone , and his battles with the Temple secretary over the Bulletin he scripted for posting , and how he suffered from the Crimson Plague and couldn ' t speak . When you left off , his messenger boy had just had his master ' s quill enchanted with the spirit of a daedra named Feyfolken , " added Vonguldak to add the Great Sage ' s memory . " As it happens , " said the Great Sage . " I was thinking about a nap . However , the story does touch on some issues of the natures of spirits and thus is related to conjuration , so I ' ll continue . Thaurbad began using the quill to write the Temple Bulletin , and there was something about the slightly lopsided , almost three - dimensional quality of the letters that Thaurbad liked a lot . Into the night , Thaurbad put together the Temple of Auri - El ' s Bulletin . For the moment he washed over the page with the Feyfolken quill , it became a work of art , an illuminated manuscript crafted of gold , but with good , simple and strong vernacular . The sermon excerpts read like poetry , despite being based on the archpriest ' s workmanlike exhortation of the most banal of the Alessian Doctrines . The obituaries of two of the Temple ' s chief benefactors were stark and powerful , pitifully mundane deaths transitioned into world - class tragedies . Thaurbad worked the magical palette until he nearly fainted from exhaustion . At six o ' clock in the morning , a day before deadline , he handed the Bulletin to Gorgos for him to carry to Alfiers , the Temple secretary . As expected , Alfiers never wrote back to compliment him or even comment on how early he had sent the bulletin . It didn ' t matter . Thaurbad knew it was the best Bulletin the Temple had ever posted . At one o ' clock on Sundas , Gorgos brought him many messages . " The Bulletin today was so beautiful , when I read it in the vestibule , I ' m ashamed to tell you I wept copiously , " wrote the archpriest . " I don ' t think I ' ve seen anything that captures Auri - El ' s glory so beautifully before . The cathedrals of Firsthold pale in comparison . My friend , I prostrate myself before the greatest artist since Gallael . " The archpriest was , like most men of the cloth , given to hyperbole . Still , Thaurbad was happy with the compliment . More messages followed . All of the Temple Elders and thirty - three of the parishioners young and old had all taken the time to find out who wrote the bulletin and how to get a message to congratulate him . And there was only one person they could go through for that information : Alfiers . Imaging the dragon lady besieged by his admirers filled Thaurbad with positive glee . He was still in a good mood the next day when he took the ferry to his appointment with his healer , Telemichiel . The herbalist was new , a pretty Redguard woman who tried to talk to him , even after he gave her the note reading " My name is Thaurbad Hulzik and I have an appointment with Telemichiel for eleven o ' clock . Please forgive me for not talking , but I have no voicebox anymore . " " Has it started raining yet ? " she asked cheerfully . " The diviner said it might . " Thaurbad frowned and shook his head angrily . Why was it that everyone thought that mute people liked to be talked to ? Did soldiers who lost their arms like to be thrown balls ? It was undoubtedly not a purposefully cruel behavior , but Thaurbad still suspected that some people just liked to prove that they weren ' t crippled too . The examination itself was routine horror . Telemichiel performed the regular invasive torture , all the while chatting and chatting and chatting . " You ought to try talking once in a while . That ' s the only way to see if you ' re getting better . If you don ' t feel comfortable doing it in public , you could try practicing it by yourself , " said Telemichiel , knowing his patient would ignore his advice . " Try singing in the bath . You ' ll probably find you don ' t sound as bad as you think . " Thaurbad left the examination with the promise of test results in a couple of weeks . On the ferry ride back home , Thaurbad began thinking of next week ' s temple bulletin . What about a double - border around the " Last Sundas ' s Offering Plate " announcement ? Putting the sermon in two columns instead of one might have interesting effects . It was almost unbearable to think that he couldn ' t get started on it until Alfiers sent him information . When she did , it was with the note , " LAST BULLETIN A LITTLE BETTER . NEXT TIME , DON ' T USE THE WORD ' FORTUITOUS ' IN PLACE OF ' FORTUNATE . ' THE WORDS ARE NOT , IF YOU LOOK THEM UP , SYNONYMOUS . " In response , Thaurbad almost followed Telemichiel ' s advice by screaming obscenities at Gorgos . Instead , he drank a bottle of cheap wine , composed and sent a suitable reply , and fell asleep on the floor . The next morning , after a long bath , Thaurbad began work on the Bulletin . His idea for putting a light shading effect on the " Special Announcements " section had an amazing textural effect . Alfiers always hated the extra decorations he added to the borders , but using the Feyfolken quill , they looked strangely powerful and majestic . Gorgos came to him with a message from Alfiers at that very moment as if in response to the thought . Thaurbad opened it up . It simply said , " I ' M SORRY . " Thaurbad kept working . Alfiers ' s note he put from his mind , sure that she would soon follow it up with the complete message " I ' M SORRY THAT NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU TO KEEP RIGHT - HAND AND LEFT - HAND MARGINS THE SAME LENGTH " or " I ' M SORRY WE CAN ' T GET SOMEONE OTHER THAN A WEIRD , OLD MAN AS SCRIBE OF OUR BULLETIN . " It didn ' t matter what she was sorry about . The columns from the sermon notes rose like the massive pillars of roses , crowned with unashamedly ornate headers . The obituaries and birth announcements were framed together with a spherical border , as a heartbreaking declaration of the circle of life . The Bulletin was simultaneously both warm and avant - garde . It was a masterpiece . When he sent it off to Alfiers late that afternoon , he knew she ' d hate it , and was glad . Thaurbad was surprised to get a message from the Temple on Loredas . Before he read the content , he could tell from the style that it wasn ' t from Alfiers . The handwriting wasn ' t Alfiers ' s usual belligerent slashing style , and it wasn ' t all in Alfiers ' s usual capital letters , which read like a scream from Oblivion . " Thaurbad , I thought you should know Alfiers isn ' t at the Temple anymore . She quit her position yesterday , very suddenly . My name is Vanderthil , and I was lucky enough ( let me admit it now , I begged pitifully ) to be your new Temple contact . I ' m overwhelmed by your genius . I was having a crisis of faith until I read last week ' s Bulletin . This week ' s Bulletin is a miracle . Enough . I just wanted to say I ' m honored to be working with you . - - Vanderthil . " The response on Sundas after the service even astonished Thaurbad . The archpriest attributed the massive increase in attendance and collection plate offerings entirely to the Bulletin . Thaurbad ' s salary was quadrupled . Gorgos brought over a hundred and twenty messages from his adoring public . The following week , Thaurbad sat in front of his writing plank , a glass of fine Torvali mead at his side , staring at the blank scroll . He had no ideas . The Bulletin , his child , his second - wife , bored him . The third - rate sermons of the archbishop were absolute anathema , and the deaths and births of the Temple patrons struck him as entirely pointless . Blah blah , he thought as he scribbled on the page . He knew he wrote the letters B - L - A - H B - L - A - H . The words that appeared on the scroll were , " A necklace of pearl on a white neck . " He scrawled a jagged line across the page . It appeared in through that damned beautiful Feyfolken quill : " Glory to Auri - El . " Thaurbad slammed the quill and poetry spilled forth in a stream of ink . He scratched over the page , blotting over everything , and the vanquished words sprung back up in different form , even more exquisite than before . Every daub and splatter caused the document to whirl like a kaleidoscope before falling together in gorgeous asymmetry . There was nothing he could do to ruin the Bulletin . Feyfolken had taken over . He was a reader , not an author . Now , " asked the Great Sage . " What was Feyfolken from your knowledge of the School of Conjuration ? " " What happened next ? " cried Vonguldak . " First , tell me what Feyfolken was , and then I ' ll continue the story . " " You said it was a daedra , " said Taksim . " And it seems to have something to do with artistic expression . Was Feyfolken a servitor of Azura ? " " But the scribe may have been imagining all this , " said Vonguldak . " Perhaps Feyfolken is a servitor of Sheogorath , and he ' s gone mad . Or the quill ' s writing makes everyone who views it , like all the congregation at the Temple of Auri - El go mad . " " Hermaeus Mora is the daedra of knowledge . . . and Hircine is the daedra of the wild . . . and the daedra of revenge is Boethiah , " pondered Taksim . And then he smiled , " Feyfolken is a servitor of Clavicus Vile , isn ' t it ? " " Very good , " said the Great Sage . " How did you know ? " " It ' s his style , " said Taksim . " Assuming that he doesn ' t want the power of the quill now that he has it . What happens next ? " " I ' ll tell you , " said the Great Sage , and continued the tale . Feyfolken , Book III . Feyfolken Book Three by Waughin Jarth Thaurbad had at last seen the power of the quill , " said the Great Sage , continuing his tale . " Enchanted with the daedra Feyfolken , servitor of Clavicus Vile , it had brought him great wealth and fame as the scribe of the weekly Bulletin of the Temple of Auri - El . But he realized that it was the artist , and he merely the witness to its magic . He was furious and jealous . With a cry , he snapped the quill in half . He turned to finish his glass of mead . When he turned around , the quill was intact . He had no other quills but the one he had enchanted , so he dipped his finger in the inkwell and wrote a note to Gorgos in big sloppy letters . When Gorgos returned with a new batch of congratulatory messages from the Temple , praising his latest Bulletin , he handed the note and the quill to the messenger boy . The note read : " Take the quill back to the Mages Guild and sell it . Buy me another quill with no enchantments . " Gorgos didn ' t know what to make of the note , but he did as he was told . He returned a few hours later . " They wouldn ' t give us any gold back for it , " said Gorgos . " They said it wasn ' t enchanted . I told ' em , I said ' What are you talking about , you enchanted it right here with that Feyfolken soul gem , ' and they said , ' Well , there ain ' t a soul in it now . Maybe you did something and it got loose . ' " Gorgos paused to look at his master . Thaurbad couldn ' t speak , of course , but he seemed even more than usually speechless . " Anyway , I threw the quill away and got you this new one , like you said . " Thaurbad studied the new quill . It was white - feathered while his old quill had been dove gray . It felt good in his hand . He sighed with relief and waved his messenger lad away . He had a Bulletin to write , and this time , without any magic except for his own talent . Within two days time , he was nearly back on schedule . It looked plain but it was entirely his . Thaurbad felt a strange reassurance when he ran his eyes over the page and noticed some slight errors . It had been a long time since the Bulletin contained any errors . In fact , Thaurbad reflected happily , there were probably other mistakes still in the document that he was not seeing . He was finishing a final whirl of plain calligraphy on the borders when Gorgos arrived with some messages from the Temple . He looked through them all quickly , until one caught his eye . The wax seal on the letter read " Feyfolken . " With complete bafflement , he broke it open . " I think you should kill yourself , " it read in perfectly gorgeous script . He dropped the letter to the floor , seeing sudden movement on the Bulletin . Feyfolken script leapt from the letter and coursed over the scroll in a flood , translating his shabby document into a work of sublime beauty . Thaurbad no longer cared about the weird croaking quality of his voice . He screamed for a very long time . And then drank . Heavily . Gorgos brought Thaurbad a message from Vanderthil , the secretary of the Temple , early Fredas morning , but it took the scribe until mid - morning to work up the courage to look at it . " Good Morning , I am just checking in on the Bulletin . You usually have it in on Turdas night . I ' m curious . You planning something special ? - - Vanderthil . " Thaurbad responded , " Vanderthil , I ' m sorry . I ' ve been sick . There won ' t be a Bulletin this Sunday " and handed the note to Gorgos before retiring to his bath . When he came back an hour later , Gorgos was just returning from the Temple , smiling . " Vanderthil and the archpriest went crazy , " he said . " They said it was your best work ever . " Thaurbad looked at Gorgos , uncomprehending . Then he noticed that the Bulletin was gone . Shaking , he dipped his finger in the inkwell and scrawled the words " What did the note I sent with you say ? " " You don ' t remember ? " asked Gorgos , holding back a smile . He knew the master had been drinking a lot lately . " I don ' t remember the exact words , but it was something like , ' Vanderthil , here it is . Sorry it ' s late . I ' ve been having severe mental problems lately . - Thaurbad . ' Since you said , ' here it is , ' I figured you wanted me to bring the Bulletin along , so I did . And like I said , they loved it . I bet you get three times as much letters this Sundas . " Thaurbad nodded his head , smiled , and waved the messenger lad away . Gorgos returned back to the Temple , while his master turned to his writing plank , and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment . He wrote with the quill : " What do you want , Feyfolken ? " The words became : " Goodbye . I hate my life . I have cut my wrists . " Thaurbad tried another tact : " Have I gone insane ? " The words became : " Goodbye . I have poison . I hate my life . " " Why are you doing this to me ? " " I Thaurbad Hulzik cannot live with myself and my ingratitude . That ' s why I ' ve put this noose around my neck . " Thaurbad picked up a fresh parchment , dipped his finger in the inkwell , and proceeded to rewrite the entire Bulletin . While his original draft , before Feyfolken had altered it , had been simple and flawed , the new copy was a scrawl . Lower - case I ' s were undotted , G ' s looked like Y ' s , sentences ran into margins and curled up and all over like serpents . Ink from the first page leaked onto the second page . When he yanked the pages from the notebook , a long tear nearly divided the third page in half . Something about the final result was evocative . Thaurbad at least hoped so . He wrote another note reading , simply , " Use this Bulletin instead of the piece of trash I sent you . " When Gorgos returned with new messages , Thaurbad handed the envelope to him . The new letters were all the same , except for one from his healer , Telemichiel . " Thaurbad , we need you to come in as soon as possible . We ' ve received the reports from Black Marsh about a strain of the Crimson Plague that sounds very much like your disease , and we need to re - examine you . Nothing is definite yet , but we ' re going to want to see what our options are . " It took Thaurbad the rest of the day and fifteen drams of the stoutest mead to recover . The larger part of the next morning was spent recovering from this means of recovery . He started to write a message to Vanderthil : " What did you think of the new Bulletin ? " with the quill . Feyfolken ' s improved version was " I ' m going to ignite myself on fire , because I ' m a dying no - talent . " Thaurbad rewrote the note using his finger - and - ink message . When Gorgos appeared , he handed him the note . There was one message in Vanderthil ' s handwriting . It read , " Thaurbad , not only are you divinely inspired , but you have a great sense of humor . Imagine us using those scribbles you sent instead of the real Bulletin . You made the archbishop laugh heartily . I cannot wait to see what you have next week . Yours fondly , Vanderthil . " The funeral service a week later brought out far more friends and admirers than Thaurbad Hulzik would ' ve believed possible . The coffin , of course , had to be closed , but that didn ' t stop the mourners from filing into lines to touch its smooth oak surface , imagining it as the flesh of the artist himself . The archbishop managed to rise to the occasion and deliver a better than usual eulogy . Thaurbad ' s old nemesis , the secretary before Vanderthil , Alfiers came in from Cloudrest , wailing and telling all who would listen that Thaurbad ' s suggestions had changed the direction of her life . When she heard Thaurbad had left her his quill in his final testament , she broke down in tears . Vanderthil was even more inconsolable , until she found a handsome and delightfully single young man . " I can hardly believe he ' s gone and I never even saw him face - to - face or spoke to him , " she said . " I saw the body , but even if he hadn ' t been all burned up , I wouldn ' t have been able to tell if it was him or not . " " I wish I could tell you there ' d been a mistake , but there was plenty of medical evidence , " said Telemichiel . " I supplied some of it myself . He was a patient of mine , you see . " " Oh , " said Vanderthil . " Was he sick or something ? " " He had the Crimson Plague years ago , that ' s what took away his voice box , but it appeared to have gone into complete remission . Actually , I had just sent him a note telling him words to that effect the day before he killed himself . " " You ' re that healer ? " exclaimed Vanderthil . " Thaurbad ' s messenger boy Gorgos told me that he had just picked up that message when I sent mine , complementing him on the new , primative design for the Bulletin . It was amazing work . I never would ' ve told him this , but I had begun to suspect he was stuck in an outmoded style . It turned out he had one last work of genius , before going out in a blaze of glory . Figuratively . And literally . " Vanderthil showed the healer Thaurbad ' s last Bulletin , and Telemichiel agreed that its frantic , nearly illegible style spoke volumes about the power and majesty of the god Auri - El . " " Now I ' m thoroughly confused , " said Vonguldak . " About which part ? " asked the Great Sage . " I think the tale is very straight - forward . " " Feyfolken made all the Bulletins beautiful , except for the last one , the one Thaubad did for himself , " said Taksim thoughtfully . " But why did he misread the notes from Vanderthil and the healer ? Did Feyfolken change those words ? " " Perhaps , " smiled the Great Sage . " Or did Feyfolken changed Thaurbad ' s perceptions of those words ? " asked Vonguldak . " Did Feyfolken make him mad after all ? " " Very likely , " said the Great Sage . " But that would mean that Feyfolken was a servitor of Sheogorath , " said Vonguldak . " And you said he was a servitor of Clavicus Vile . Which was he , an agent of mischief or an agent of insanity ? " " The will was surely altered by Feyfolken , " said Taksim , " And that ' s the sort of thing a servitor of Clavicus Vile would do to perpetuate the curse . " " As an appropriate ending to the tale of the scribe and his cursed quill , " smiled the Great Sage . " I will let you read into it as you will . "