The Dark Path: Story of a Dunmer – Part 18

  •      Having baffled the scouts who chased me through the frozen wilderness, I crossed the river at night and took refuge in a little and almost unknown Boethiah’s temple, located in a hidden plateau, less than twenty miles far from the now wasted Windhelm. I entered the sanctuary and sat in a dark corner under the starry ceiling of the last clear night on this autumn, and then I cried. I cried, Mother, out of pity for those who were dead and for those who would still die by my hands and deeds. I had pity even for the nords and the imperials slaughtered on that cursed day – I had mercy in my heart for everyone but to myself. I prayed for the Gods and they were silent, averting their faces from me. I continued to pray and they were still deaf to my words. I didn’t give up – I would never give up - I just prayed and prayed on for three days and three nights without any sleep or food, and the only water I drank was the mountain snow molten by my own fire. I was tired and weakened but I would not surrender, and the Gods had to know that I would have continued to cry my prayers to their divine ears for weeks and months and ages, while the cold burned my flesh and the hunger consumed my guts, until they answered me: Mother of the Roses who walks between the light and the darkness; Mistress of the Betrayal who dwells in the end of every love; Sister of the Spiders who wears the deceitful face of hope and despair – do not forsake he who has walked the dark path in your name, who has built your temple out of rocks and bones, who has preached your words with fire and steel.

         The falling snowflakes burned my tongue and my eyes, as I repeated those words for endless hours and days, my face turned to the ever clouded sky, and my heart, eclipsed by guilty and despair. I don’t know if I was blinded by the cold, but soon it went completely dark and I couldn’t tell night from day anymore – my soul knew nothing but darkness. I was terrified of the Gods’ wrath, but I would not quit, and my words just kept on wasting and corroding and exhausting their ears, until they would eventually lose their temper and be forced to take notice of me. On the night of the third day, the Three in One has finally answered my prayers, appearing in the starless late autumn sky, illuminated by the most glorious northern lights I had ever seen. The fair Azura, shaped like a pink rose of aurora glow and darkness; the furious Boethiah, like a bright red flame against the black sky; and the capricious Mephala was just a black void, darker and emptier than night itself, surrounded by an ever changing multicolored halo.  They showed their forms, yet they still had no words for me - they just stood there, looking down at me, mother, both with their eyes and their minds, and I could feel the sting of a terrible despise they didn’t even tried to hide. But as they showed their silent disapproval, I could feel something else on their three minds – they were not really angered at me – they felt only pampered and bored, as a trio of satisfied gluttons looking at the remnants of their feast. I could feel the gleeful satiety behind their disgust, and I realized what had completely escaped my grasp until then - I had not failed them! - Everything had happened exactly to their script, and their displeasure at me was just the annoying at a tool which has outlasted its utility, and still insists on being in the way, bothering their sights and ears.

         I saw their minds, mother, and they were laughing at me! They were amused at my audacity for trying to use them, by attempting to beat them in a game they have played since ages before the birth of this world. And then I knew what they had misled me to do – They had guided my hand to seal, once and for all, with the blood of our people, the ancient pact Saint Velothis had made with them! They have been feeding on crumbles for so long, since the Holy Tribunal had taken their former roles as guides and guardians to the dunmer future, and then they were afraid all their work would just slip through their hands, as they saw more and more of their chosen people forsaking their temples, and converting to the worship of their Aedra enemies. From now on, all of it would be over. No more offers of integration would be made, nor could they ever be accepted. Words about the massacre would run the world, through the mouth of the survivors, and the abyss that has always existed between dunmer and men would be made forever unbridgeable. The Empire, driven by its guilty, would have no option but to denounce Windhelm’s dunmers as rebels who had a fit ending - and dunmer, knowing it to be a lie, would have no option but to return to the old ways and the old Gods, as their only safe harbor, renouncing all their ties to the Empire and the Aedra. In the end, we will be utterly alone on this world, and there will be no people that will greet us as friends. The Empire will reject us as rebels, like elvenkind has rejected us as apostates, and we will take comfort only in being the chosen people of demons. We were chosen all right, but the dunmer would not like to know for what…

         In my anger I started to burn and raze down the temple, but the three ethereal shapes in the sky just laughed louder at my frustration, for there was nothing I could do to thwart their plans anymore. I had become a traitor to my people, an enemy to the Empire, and there was no place to me in this world – no family, no country, no people and no Gods. The Three in One were out of my reach, but there was still someone whose blood I could spill to accomplish at least a part of my revenge. I had killed General Tullius but it was not enough. He was only the left hand of that cold monstrous entity that grinds dreams and pulverizes hopes with the same carefree attitude the Gods had devoured my soul and played with the destiny of my people. But, unlike the Gods, the Empire is made of mortal men, and even the most powerful and well guarded mortal men can be killed, by someone dedicated to find the right approach and accept the required sacrifices. The Empire’s leader would soon be here in Skyrim, in a visit designed to provide a closure for this dark rebellion chapter, and to reassert Skyrim’s allegiance to the crumbling Empire of Men. Of course he would be extremely well protected, by some of the best bodyguards in the world, but good as the Penitus Occulati could be, they could never fully account for the fact that the Emperor would be within the reach of my skilled hands. That huge amount of dunmer blood spilled by the Empire demanded an equally huge retribution, and the chaos and political strife caused by the death of an Emperor would maybe settle this score.

Comments

3 Comments
  • ricardo maia
    ricardo maia   ·  May 11, 2012
    This is the moment of the final awareness, as he sees the full measure of his actions and the full extent of his foolishness. I never believed the Gods, even the evil daedra gods, could be tricked by any mortal men, as I never believed his self-assurance ...  more
  • Kynareth
    Kynareth   ·  May 11, 2012
    This entry was like a hammer blow to the spirit, completely knocking out all sense of perspective and purpose.  Pride was wounded immensely, and your character's disdain at times for the Three really points to his feelings of superiority...and his weaknes...  more
  • ricardo maia
    ricardo maia   ·  May 10, 2012
    Thanks Bilal. Just one more chapter to go, but the end is quite obvious, and it will not be happy, as you've already guessed. Hope I can provoke at least a moment of respectful silence, since tears are not the proper acompaniment for this one. At least I ...  more