Prologue
♦
“There’s no other way – we are powerless. We must act, and this is the only way of action.”
Zenithar sat in council with his fellow Divines, surrounding a colossal, golden slab of a table. A large orb floated several feet above the table, an orb that portrayed the planet Nirn. The God of Work sat lazily in his seat, paying little interest to the session that had been ongoing for several hours now. Akatosh, the Dragon God, had risen from the table a short while ago, and paced furiously around the table where Zenithar had gathered, however reluctantly, with the other Divines to meet about this supposed ‘end of all days’ in Tamriel.
Zenithar, clad in his usual attire for such gatherings - flowing, navy blue robes - looked up from the floor, where his eyes had been fixated on a small, intricate onyx design on the pure white marble while his mind wandered. Akatosh stood just behind his seat, a look of frustration plastered on the face of his Dragon Avatar. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest as he undoubtedly waited for the constant rebuttals to his statement that continued to drag the session on.
As expected, Julianos spoke up, obviously not settled with the matter quite yet.
“Have you no sense, Akatosh? We risk angering the Daedra if we carry through with such a daring attempt!” He rose from his seat as he spoke, his beard flowing gracefully to brush the ground with its long, wavy wisps of snow white hair, and his matching stark white robes billowing underneath the beard. “We have witnessed humanity save itself several times before; they are capable of it another time. It would not be wise to evoke anger from the Daedra by toying with what is undeniably their creation!”
Julianos remained standing, and Akatosh was still visibly frustrated, the feeling most likely driven further by Julianos’ fear of the Daedra. Zenithar rubbed his forehead with his hand, and waited for the inevitable response from the God of Mercy. He had gotten quite good at predicting who would be the next to abruptly stand and spew forth their mind in angry words in these meetings.
As Zenithar had foretold, Stendarr stood as well. “The Daedra?! You are fearful of those DEMONS?!” His voice was deep and booming, and was only complimented by the anger that accompanied talk of Daedra during these sessions.
Heh, one thing I actually take from these meetings is that ol’ Stendarr really doesn’t like Daedra. I should probably keep that in mind, Zenithar thought idly, reclined in his chair, yearning for the end of this debate. His left hand returned to his face, where it rubbed his cheek this time. Zenithar yawned and closed his eyes in doing so.
“Please, you two, take your seats, and Stendarr, quiet. We have gotten little accomplished since you called this session, Akatosh, and we will continue to accomplish little until the stars themselves burn out if we continue with these sporadic outbursts of anger and yelling. Sit, and let us calmly converse about this matter,” said Mara, the Goddess of Love, her voice reaching out to soothe the anger of the Dragon and Stendarr. Zenithar was unsurprised that she was the peacemaker, nor was he surprised when he saw the other female deities nod in agreement and lean forward, ready to finally speak.
Akatosh eventually took his seat, though it appeared to be a reluctant notion to Zenithar, while Julianos nodded graciously at Mara, and Stendarr immediately dropped down onto the golden chair, his angry expression still clear to the eye.
Silence followed; it was a beautiful silence. A silence not interrupted by neither yell, nor shout, nor blurt. It was blissful silence, broken only by the smooth voice of the hero-god Talos. Zenithar leaned forward, ready to perhaps engage himself now that it seemed likely this meeting would conclude soon.
Talos had stood, but not out of anger, it seemed. He adjusted the deep red cloak that was fastened over the steel armor of the Empire slightly before speaking. “Have faith, you all. I was a human once, and I formed the Empire once. I have faith that the humans will be able to solve this conflict on their own, without help from us. We do not have a need to involve ourselves if they can handle the problem themselves – which I know they can.” He slowly sat down after he finished, and silence had overtaken the meeting table once more. Several of the Divines had nodded in approval, perhaps for different reasons, but it was approval nonetheless. After a moment of silence, Arkay cleared his throat.
“We have been able to stand by idly in previous conflicts, true. But with as many prayers coming to us now from innocent peasants and frightened children, we cannot stand aside idly for this conflict. The cycle of life and death had been thrown out of equilibrium, and when that occurs, it is our duty to involve ourselves,” Arkay said, his voice a gentle whisper. His dark orange robes rippled in a beauty few mortals would ever have the pleasure of witnessing as he leaned on the table, propping his body up with his forearms. He slowly gazed around the room, eying each of the Divines. Zenithar gazed back at him, as if to urge him to finish with just a look. This could very well be the knockout punch for this meeting.
“We are the Divines, and when called upon, we must be the Divines for our people. I understand many of you may not have wanted them here in the first place, but now that they are here, and are praying to us, calling our names for help, we are obliged to – especially when the equilibrium of life and death is being altered by this event.”
Akatosh, who seemed content enough with Arkay’s words, stood again. He immediately began to pace around the table, eager to conclude this debate.
“Not so fast, Akatosh… have you forgotten about our other brothers and sisters? Are you so bent on getting your way that you would blatantly refuse them time to voice their thoughts?” Mara questioned the Dragon God of Time, partially upset with his lack of care or love for the others, including Zenithar himself, who had remained quiet mostly due to dozing off or his mind wandering.
Zenithar glanced around the platform that held the table to see several of the Divines nodding vigorously in agreement with Mara’s statement, some of which who looked close to bursting from impatience.
Without saying a word, the God of Time returned to his seat, and waited.
“Thank you, Mara, my sister. I would have loved the opportunity to voice my thoughts earlier, but it seemed some were preoccupied,” said Dibella, clearly annoyed with Akatosh, to whom she glared at. “I, myself, do agree with intervention. The beauty of the image that we painted below is being destroyed, and the beautiful people we created are being slaughtered. We cannot allow this to continue; else we risk the beauty of all of Nirn being decimated.”
Zenithar looked a Dibella thoughtfully, partially because she was divinely beautiful, but also because her words made sense to Zenithar. He thought the same, that the image not only they as Divines had worked so hard to create, but also the image that man has worked so hard to create is being destroyed so easily and so quickly. I suppose I should throw in my lot, just for the sake of ending this torment.
The God of Work glanced around the table, and after seeing no visible movements to speak, cleared his throat with a loud cough. “Seeing as this meeting is clearly about to conclude, I suppose I should speak my mind as well, no?” Zenithar paused for a moment before continuing. “I believe we should take action. Peace and prosperity are achieved through diligent, hard work and honest profit, not through war and bloodshed. I rest my case,” Zenithar finished, and lazily reclined in his chair once more, feeling the end of the meeting drawing nearer and nearer.
“Does anyone else have anything to offer? Otherwise, we will hold a vote in order to decide our course of action,” Mara said, as if she was reaching out to each Divine with her heart before calling a close to the meeting.
Silence followed, and Zenithar glanced around the table again. Blank expressions were aplenty among the Divines; it was obvious that the discussion was over. After a while of silence, Akatosh rose, this time without interruption from the Goddess of Love.
“It is time we hold a vote.” Akatosh slowly walked around the table, his footsteps ringing loudly off the marble platform. “All in favor of selecting an array of mortal champions to serve us, the Divines, in ending this Age of Darkness in Tamriel, raise your hands.”
In response to the resounding statement, the hands of Akatosh himself, the Dragon God of Time; Arkay, the God of Life and Death; Dibella, the Goddess of Beauty; Mara, the Mother Goddess of Love; Stendarr, God of Mercy and Justice; Zenithar, the God of Work and Commerce rose in the air. After wavering in the air for several seconds, the hands slowly descended one by one.
“And those opposed?”
The hands of Julianos, God of Wisdom and Logic; Kynareth, the Goddess of Nature; Talos, God of War and Governance rose in response to Akatosh.
“It seems we have our plan of action. We shall reconvene tomorrow to select the champions,” Akatosh said, his tone lighthearted and full of pleasantness. He disappeared off the platform in a puff of smoke.
Ah, thank us that finally ended, Zenithar thought as he slowly rose from his chair and stretched the old bones of the form he took on when in these meetings. After a myriad of cracks, he lowered his arms, and also disappeared in a puff of smoke, departing the platform and heading back to his own home.
The Divines all disappeared in their own smoke puffs, and soon enough, the platform was vacant. It soon faded off into the emptiness of the plane around it; however, the large orb of Nirn remained, suspended mysteriously in the void. It continued to rotate, emanating a ‘whirring’ noise and emitting a dull glow, pulsating slowly.
“Ah yes… Julianos… how right you were…” A faint voice floated from the sphere, before it too, faded off into the snow white backdrop.
