Before the Hist, nothing existed. The Hist meant everything and provided all. Jaraleet knew this. Every Argonian knew this, instinctively, from hatching. Why, then, wouldn't the Hist speak to them? Didn't the old stories say the Hist talked to its people? Though no alchemist, Jaraleet concocted formula after formula. He distilled various ichors, combining each one in varying amounts with Hist sap, tasting them all, making adjustments. He felt the Hist urge him on, demanding he break through its silence.