Prologue
I am Kära Snow-Song, daughter to Burd the Scribe, granddaughter to Aeta HighLander who slew the Demon of Gideon, and Priestess of Talos the Dragonborn. In my life I have accumulated many titles and honors, some by right others by happenstance. Stormcrown, Ysmir, Slayer of Alduin, Bearer of Auriel's Shield, Champion of the Skaal. But I am getting ahead of myself. Instead I shall tell my tale proper and start at the beginning.
Despite the future reputations I would earn, my life was not always as such. There was a time in my early years where I was just a simply acolyte to Kynareth in the grandest of all the cities of Tamriel, Cyrodiil City the captial of the Empire and by extension all of Tamriel.
My days were spent learning of the majesty of the Divines, particularly Kyareth the Widowed Goddess, and tending to the sick and injured that came to the Temple. In those days, a mere decade after the Great War with the accursed Aldmeri Dominion, may they burn in the fires of Obilivion, there were many such suffering souls. Former soldiers maimed by elven weaponry or ruined by elven magics. Still others were souls unlucky to lose everything they had beneath marching armies or raging battle lines. While some where able to rebuild, many were not and struggled on as beggars.
Despite the suffering of others and the world around me, my life was easy. My father was a scribe to the Emperor himself and thus our family looked after. My grandmother, Aeta, was well-known for destroying Pajeen the Naga Lich, more widely known as the Demon of Gideon, and thus we were respected by most and feared by a few. Thus, those who should have brought misfortune down on us out of jealously stayed their hand. Yet, my life of peace was forever changed on the day my father Burd loyal servant to the Empire confessed his crime to me. The head scribe to the Emperor Titus Mede II was a traitor, for even though he had helped copy the White-Gold Concordant that the Emperor himself signed, my father was a loyal devotee to Talos the Man-God.
My father told me how all true Nords, whereever they lived, should revere two things throughout history. The first was that Tiber Septim who founded the Empire was a Nord from our ancestral homeland of Atmora. The second was that Tiber Septim was our god, that through his great deeds and love for his people he ascended to the ranks of the Divines as Arkay before him.
He gave me his Amulet of Talos and told me to think of his words, and thus he left me alone for the night in my room. I clutched the Amulet of Talos confused, and hurt. I had been taught by the other priests that Talos was not a god, had seen the poor burned as heretics by agents of the Thalmor ambassador. I had even played Hunt the Talos Worshipper with other children, some of who were Mer.
Yet, I loved my father and did not want to see him tied to the burning post or laid on the block. How could a man so close to the Emperor be a criminal and defy the very laws he penned to paper?
I prayed to the Divines for answers and guidance. Yet none came. Not even the familiar cleansing comfort, that normally accompanied such prayers, found me that night. At least not until I shouted at the amulet in my hands. My father always told me that I had my grandmother's voice, the voice of a true Nord warrior capable of striking fear into all with it challenging roar.
The amulet reacted to my anger and rage and glowed with a warm light in my hands. That gentle light spread from the amulet to my fingers, then up my arms, across my chest, and then up and down to my head and toes. I wish dear reader that I had skill like my father for perhaps he would know the words to put down that would describe the sensation. For now I will say wholeness and leave it at that.
As the light infused my young frame, my rage was quieted as a felt a hand upon my head. It was very much reminiscent of my father's hand as he patted me with affection. With that feeling came a voice, yes you are most definitely one of my mine. And then it was over.
That is how I Kara Snow-Song, daughter of Burd and granddaughter to Aeta Highlander, in the 193th year of the 4th Era, at the tender age of twelve, went from acolyte in training to rebel and traitor.
Comments