On Boethiah's Summoning Day 2
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To my friend Tal Marog Ker, Tis' been near fifty years since last we had chance enough to speak, when I lent the battlemage Dagon's protonymic and my isle was for a short time freed from it's prison. Liberation lasted long enough for me to gaze once more upon Direnni, and see the fall of Tharn, the same span it took for Dagon to reappropriate. I would have warned you earlier had I not been snatched away. I would have relaid it immediately but my mind comes and goes. Have you seen my son? Perhaps I was better off in the void. The void. It wasn't void while I was there... Your notes on the journal I gave you last we met are terribly poor. Perhaps the journal was poor. I may be able to make clarifications next we meet. I write to you at the outset of crisis. Old habits die hard [even for a Leaper Demon] but Caecilly is no longer safe from the tempest of Alduin; we were before, hidden away in the skyvaults of the deadlands in the back of the Dagon's mind - a pocket of stasis in a void of chaos, a new Aldmeris waiting to bloom. Numidius would have had his own, Camoran did but did it wrong. You realize by my writing that Dagon's banishment by the Akatosh-Incaro set Caecilly free once more, though for how long I cannot say - if the Thalmor who came to study it's chapel are correct perhaps forever. But now we're here and the world-eater will find us, soon even, for we're in the north. I've felt since birth that should I ever meet a dragon it would be my solemn duty to slay it. Yours, 232 Stendarr's Star To Tal Marog Ker, I am well, or as well as I can be. I'm told for eight years I was a madman but the healers sent from Northpoint were adequate, even if their magicks less refined. Few hallucinations creep in. Forgive my dating. It is of my own design; time in the void doesn't match our own, and I've yet to shrug it off. Why should the Inquirers care for the return of an Isle with one insane citizen? Those of my clan which have set foot on Caecilly have given me no word on the politics of Summerset, or if they have I wouldn't know, I was far down the golden road at the time. Am I so early as that? Are the Nords at peace? Events which I barely know I saw in my last moments in Oblivion. I witnessed the Dagonites fall, not from Nirn, but from my place in the back of Dagon's mind. The coming wars occupied the Dagon's thoughts as a plague, though whether in favor or against I cannot say. Rumors and whispers travel like lightning when there is only one divine decree to wade through. But you write oddly. Are you well my friend? What of Cyrodiil at this juncture? Last time there was one Empire, held strong against it's myriad of cousins within the void. It reclaimed Caecilly, for now at least - the crystal chapel has stopped pulsing, and this is contested ground against the daedra. The Velothi spoke too soon in calling them their ancestors. Or were the Velothi here to soon? With their triadic gods one could never say. Anticipations indeed, but one never anticipates your ensuing immanence to usurp you before its time. I hope to see you soon, my hand grows pained in writing. Rest assured, the jaws of Oblivion were only the first molars of Alduin's. Yours, 250 Stendarr's Star Tal Marog Ker, To think the daedric realities monotonous, the University pampers you too much. Untold ages I've stood and read the skies of Oblivion, seen it shift and change with the moods of the Prince, or more often with the tides of war between the Markynaz and the Xivilai, or the Mazken, or whoever they were vying for power with at a given time. The daedra make up for in war and debauchery what they lack in romance. The divines may romance. Man and mer may romance. The daedra may not, for romance requisites division. The ehlnofey knew this, thus they became sundered. Yet Mehrunes Dagon is always Dagon, whether he be Lehkelogah or Djehkeleho or someone new. Tamriel will see him as the same; he is one. Yet the scholars read too much into the uniformity of the divines, who are many, and more intricate than Labyrinthian. A man may have conflicting desires, but must choose between them, thus his finitude. Stand on the mythic scale of raw possibility and all such inhibitions are lost, it is only a matter of prominence. The Alessians inaugurated the prominence of Akatosh. The Marukhati tried to exclusify it. Hjalti reinstated it. The Empire upheld it. The Dagonites ended it. The dragon of Cyrodiil is bound in stone, and in time, the dragon of the North will no longer be. I have seen more than my fractured mind can hold, visions without end. I have seen Skyrim cracked asunder in war, the Talos Cult more persecuted than ever, the bones of dead gods raised by their lord. The Princes of this world will follow the lead of the Princes of the last - they will step up and become kings, with Peryite as their chief. This much should be obvious, every Prince Anticipates their future immanence. I can feel the pains of childbirth in the heavens and I rail against it. I am an old man. I was an old man before. I don't think I'll ever be anything but an old man. It is for our progeny that I write. My son is somewhere. Yours, 240 Stendarr's Star I will do no such thing you masked fiend; one does not cast his lot with those who will be the authors of his doom. My bones may be old but a Direnni retainer I remain, my allegiance with the Castellan. The teachings of my childhood escape my thoughts, my mind has betrayed me. The Direnni I've found were not the ones I left, I consider myself true, perhaps the last - that is a lie, I am a heretic, but my staff is lit, against you and your ilk. Dagon preoccupies himself with images of dragons, yet Auriel adorns himself with shield and bow; his concerns are less draconic and thus weigh less on those vested in the world [save Talos who defends it]. But I am vested in the world, under Have any of my words been outside the bounds of the golden road? I cannot say, I only speak to what I see in hopes that I may equip the hosts for the coming days, against you. Stop your charade False Artificer, under the invocation of Crystal-Like-Law I command it. Chimere Graegyn |
