The Dark Path: Story of a Dunmer – Part 19 - FINAL

• Posted by ricardo maia May 11, 2012 - 1,016 views

       So, everything ends as it had began. I’m again bound to the scaffold, and this time I’m guessing no dragon will appear in the last minute. What can I say, about the Penitus Oculatti… they are really that good, though not good enough to protect the Emperor from a poisoned arrow through his throat, shot by an invisible assassin. Thus I’ve been caught, as I knew I would be, after having seen the effectiveness of the safety measures taken by imperial security and, to be fair, I didn’t put so much of a fight anyway. I had done what I could have done and my body was just a spent and emptied receptacle, whose content was already being kept elsewhere.  I’ve been trying so hard to be a hero, but that was not a thing for me and my career has been all but exceptional. I’ve been a relapse son, a false prophet, an incompetent general and I have failed on everything I've tried, except on killing people - on that I’ve always succeeded. Now they’re reading the list of my crimes, and I’ll confess to you I can’t remember half the names they read, and though it is a long list, it is very far from complete. There are thousands of names still missing - names of people who had followed me, who had believed me, or who had simply the bad luck of crossing my way. I can foresee the relate of my deeds will become a tale to scare the little children.

       They have not blindfolded me and I’m allowed to take a look at the crowd gathered to watch my execution. It’s a fair morning and there are whole families in the square, looking for some light amusement before lunch – I can only hope I'll be able to show them a good time! I see all the hostile faces around me and I’m keenly aware I've got no friends left... but I've got no enemies either - friends and enemies, I’ve killed them all - and though I still have a lot of sins to atone for, all my blood debts have been paid in full. All of them, except for three last debts very hard to collect indeed… my blood rushes and I get furious and ashamed at the thought there are still three beings out there that have made a fool of me. Azura, Mephala, Boethia... they’re out of my reach right now, but the headsman’s ax will soon send me into their realm and I’ll try my skills with them. Foot soldiers, Generals, Kings and Emperors - in the end they all bleed the same on my hands, so I’m gonna give it a try and see the kind of stuff that runs through the veins of my Gods. I know there’s no blade in this world capable of striking those beings, but when the Gods opened their minds at the temple, to exhibit the extent of their despise for me, I’ve also had a glimpse of something more than what they wanted to show. I’ve glimpsed fear, not from me – they could never conceive of being hurt by their toys, it just wouldn’t be so fun to play with us if they could be hurt – but from something so unconceivable even the Gods fear. There’s a weapon, somewhere between this world and Oblivion, which was crafted with the sole purpose of spilling the blood of the Gods themselves. It has not been used for ages and no one, not even the God, knows its whereabouts now, but wherever it is I’m going to find it and then I’m going to put it to use.

       They’re calling my name now, Mother. I used to be so proud of this name, but now I think it is just fair that it will be turned into a curse and a synonymous for infamy. Saint Veloth was just a crazy old man and his madness, and mine, have defined the future of dunmer race, binding us forever to our cruel Gods who have no use for us except as a source of food and entertainment. In one of his few instants of clarity, the old prophet wrote those most sinful words ‘no man is ever happy, because he is not safe from the Gods’. I could never reconcile those words with the pious image I had formed of him. I’ve read them over and over trying to make some sense of them. It takes away all the sweetness of life to know there is someone who might, at the whim of a moment, end your life, take away your loved ones, poison your dreams and bring ruin to the works of your hands. I want to be such a someone for our Gods. So I promise here, with my highest resolve, I will consecrate my soul to thwart the perfect happiness and safety of their eternal life, to frustrate their hopes, to poison their dreams and, finally, to make them understand the true meaning of being a mortal. Now the headsman is climbing the steps and the soldiers have put me on my knees to receive the final cut. I’ll never talk to you again - In a few minutes I will be in Oblivion and then no God will ever be happy again, because they won’t be safe from me!

  "I who am here dissembled

  Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love

  To the dead.

  Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.

  As I am forgotten

  And would be forgotten, so I would forget…"

  (T. S. Elliot, from Ash-Wednesday)