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(Part 1)
There is what is possibly understandable and what is impossibly understandable. People perceive things based on their mental ability to imagine and understand. What they understand, they cope with and accept as possible even if it is out of their own capabilities but what they don't understand, they fear and discriminate against.
In some periods of time, women with the knowledge of herbal medicine and some simple mechanical understanding were discriminated against as witches. They were gathered and put in cages then got executed in public.
The discrimination of the odd is a common occurrence and can be very contagious in a community. Racial discrimination or skin color discrimination and the list goes on.
This is mostly caused because of a lack of understanding. People hate the odd and what goes beyond their perception. The Order and Chaos theory becomes very obvious in this example. Chaos is the natural state of things as everything is simply made of it, the Order is what our minds could comprehend from that Chaos and that feeling of familiarity towards what we know and what we feel possible to understand.
A good example will be like walking in a new country with a different set of customs and traditions. One may find a certain custom very incompatible with whatever he believes in and from there one rejects the Chaos recognizing it as evil.
Sometimes, this Chaos is too much to understand no matter how open-minded one can be. People may shoot Firebolts from their hands, shout Words of Power by their voices, rule with an iron fist. That is somewhat understandable to a certain degree and recognized by the magical theories.
But when someone has the ability to bring down a fort's wall by pulling it with their sheer mere physical power, to defy the possibility of being shackled by high-end magic seals, to cover a whole city with one spell, to control thousands of lives by sheer charisma and mere words, to tell people what to do and what not to do and organize lives as they see fit, to have a superior will that breaks other wills, to dominate by presence and devastate by force. This is a little bit of a stretch from what is realistically possible even in a magical world.
But it possible to happen.
And when it happens, it will lay waste and wreck havoc being something unstoppable and dominant. People will kneel to whoever controls such a power.
But some won't.
Some will see the Chaos no matter how dominating it becomes and discriminate against it no matter its intentions. They will rebel against the Titans and burn the world with them if they could. They would revolt in the name of fighting against what shouldn't have been given to a mere mortal.
To fight the 'Monsters'.
To start the rebellion against what disturbs the Order and the lives of the decent folk.
To slay the Monsters, free the souls and break the shackles.
Those rebels rise from being broken by the Monsters on a young age and grow up to develop a sixth sense towards those who wield the Power of the Monsters. They call them by many names starting from the Beasts and Monsters going on to the Tyrants and Titans. They feel the necessity to rid the world of the Monsters and start a holy war against them sacrificing everything precious and dear just to take down one mortal.
Those Rebels are merely victims to their own fears antagonizing the mighty and putting on a bitter fight against the odds. A Hero Syndrome of a sort where the victims destroy themselves like eggs thrown at a wall.
But even a wall couldn't withstand what they were going up against, it was pulled down by a single monster that was tied to it. The monster forcefully pulled the chains out of their mechanisms and smiled as he took them as his trophy.
"Nice gain, maybe that will compensate for my wasted time." Jon said as he forcefully opened the shackles on his wrists and kept the chains in the Cube.
The scene in front of him was very much clouded by the rubble of the fallen wall.
Jon kept a sharp gaze at the rubble until the dust cloud settled down and silhouettes started to walk out of the broken wall. The Thalmor mages, the Orc shamans, the Argonians and the Dunmer brigands, as well as the enemies Jon was waiting for, Galam and the Labourers of Malacath and Peryite.
The whole lot of them were spitting and coughing out dust. There were also many with broken limbs and some buried under the rubble. The one receiving them was Jon who was a monster in their eyes as soon as they realized how close they are to him not that there isn't a wall. Someone with such an insane ability put a strong mental barrier between them and the ability to fight him.
Some wills were stronger than others and the ones who sucked up their fear were Galam and his two Orc friends. Galam had Isha's weapon with him, the Spear of Bitter Mercy that can pierce through anything and kill anyone. No matter how strong Krilon can get, no one survived the sting of Bitter Mercy and no armor can protect against it. The Labourer of Malacath had Volendrung, a great hammer that a whole nation was named after it and the Labourer of Peryite had the unshakable shield that can absorb any kind damage, Spellbreaker.
The three were ready to go against the Monster and put on a fight against the odds.
"You bastard! You... Your head is mine!" From the sides, the High Elf Thalmor Arch Wizard Fiandor pushed away the rubble and walked to Jon with eyes reddened from anger.
"All teams, ATTACK!" The Elf shouted.
The area was surrounded by trees and swampy forests, once the elf shouted, a number of presences showed themselves. High Elven Mages and Wood Elven Arcane Archers aiming their spells and magic arrows at Jon.
"Oh! Hello." Jon leisurely smiled and waved at them.
"Kill him!"
As the commander on the Thalmor force shouted, the weirdest of the weird happened. The whole force disappeared in a poof.
Jon couldn't hold it back and laughed hard.
"Sorry, I just… hahaha! I couldn't have imagined… haha… they would disappear like that!"
As Jon was holding his sides from the laughter, Faindor the Arch Wizard became baffled. Almost a hundred elite wizards and arcane archers were here and then they were not. This can't be covered if something serious happened to them. Unlike the battalion that was wiped out at Winterhold which was made of footsoldiers, these hundreds were top elites and candidates for future commanders. He prepared them personally to face someone with Jon Dare's caliber.
Faindor looked at the laughing Jon and his eyes demanded an explanation. Jon cleared his throat and raised his hand.
"A few seconds from now, your people will appear again. It is just a small trick no more. Hahaha! Goodness me, you'll love it."
Jon counted with his fingers then pointed all around him.
At that second, the hundred or so Thalmor agent appeared once again just as he said but something was completely wrong. They way they appeared was something akin to a scene of a horror movie, they were there but their bodies appeared through the trees, the ground, the stones, and some appeared on each other.
The scene was akin to a very resentful Daedric Prince holding some puny mortals together and stuffing them in things or in one another.
How did this happen? Simple. Jon has sent Nefertiti to put down these traps. When he burned the Hist tree and heard something from it, he got an insight that the Chaos and the Shadow are of the same nature. He can employ the Shadow Magic to create Chaos attacks and that were the scrolls he handed to Nefertiti. He asked her to go around and plant these spells he made in the shadows of the enemies who are trying to ambush him. Once that was done, whenever a mage casts a spell, that spell will be absorbed by the scroll and he will be transferred momentarily to the Chaos World. There, Nefertiti, the fairy of shadow, will be waiting for them in all her might. She can just do whatever she wants and she chose to stuff them in objects.
That was all there is to it. Jon trapped them in the Chaos World by their own magic and Nefertiti handled the rest.
The one who sees this will surely look at Jon as someone out of the ordinary. A true Monster just as Galam was saying.
The High Elf Arch Wizard was terrified out of his wits. There was no knowledge of any magical archetype that can do such damage unless one was connected to a high Daedric Lord. Knowing that Krilon is the Labourer of Azura, this must have been it. Even an Arch Wizard is not a match to a Daedra.
His legs stiffened but Jon took action. He used 'Electrohand' and grabbed the mage from his head then pulled him closer with haste. Once the mage was in his grasp, Jon punched a 'Thundercookie' at the mage's abdomen sending him on the ground in agonizing pain.
"Damn! Not dead? You must be carrying some treasure on you, bastard. Very well, looks like some of my friends want to have a chat with you. I'll leave you for later." Jon said and took one of the Magic Sealing Chains and put the mage in it.
"No! Mercy! Mercy!"
"... Nope."
Jon tossed the mage on the side after making him faint. He then looked at Galam and the rest.
"Sorry to make you wait, boys." He said and called for Greed.
Greed moved on its own holding each piece of Jon's armor and weapons then jumped on its owner. Just a couple of seconds went by and Jon was in his full gear in such a bizarre and grotesque manner.
"Shall we begin?"
***
(Part 2)
Galam kicked his fear aside and put his trust in the spear's power. It is a matter of do or die now.
"Krilon, you monster. No matter what you do, I'll kill you." Galam steeled his will and charged at Jon with his Flaming Aura on.
"Haha! That's more like it." Jon was happy to finally get to face the Champion of Boethiah and let go of his Tyrant Aura.
Its existence put a lot of pressure on Galam and he got to see first hand how overbearing can Jon be in a serious fight.
The Ebony Blade discarded all defense and was swung by Jon's full power but the Spear of Bitter Mercy was used to reflect the attack at Jon with its enchantment.
"Troublesome!" Jon smiled and swung his blade from all possible directions.
Galam seemed to have trained on the spear and the enchantment itself boosted the wielder's ability to wield a spear. Jon seemed to be going to have to fight for some time before he could overpower Galam.
Still, from the side, the Labourer of Malacath attacked with Volendrung.
"Die, human!"
"Seriously, dude! Do you hear your voice?" Jon didn't want to make contact with him so he just used a simple force spell to stagger the Orc away.
From the back, the Labourer of Peryite closed on Jon with his shield, Spellbreaker. Jon wanted to push the bastard away but Galam attacked from the front. They tried to corner Jon.
"Nice."
Jon directed the spear to the other side and kicked at the back but Spellbreaker blocked his kick. The Labourer of Peryite tried to spit a green substance at Jon but Jon teleported behind him and waved the sword at his head. The Labourer of Peryite managed to regain his defensive stance and barely stopped Jon's attack but his right ear was chopped away on the account of his neck.
"I see. A Perfect Defense enchantment. It makes you the ultimate shield user the same way with the Spear of Bitter Mercy and the Ebony Blade… but when you try to attack, you will lose the advantage. Interesting!"
Jon now became hell-bent on breaking the perfect defense of Spellbreaker but soon he was attacked by the Spear of Bitter Mercy and Volendrung at the same time.
"Good combination. Make me feel it!" His thirst for a good fight made him try to extend the battle even longer.
Volendrung was smiting every spot he stood on filling the ground with pits and holes, Spellbreaker was blocking every attack and the Spear of Bitter Mercy was a combination of offense and defense.
"Krilon, you monster! Die!" Galam was enraged by Jon's broken attitude and lost to his rage performing a clumsy attack.
Jon smiled as he found an opening the slapped Galam with all his palm sending the elf away.
"So what if I am monsteeeeeer…"
Jon teleported to where Galam will land and slapped once again.
"... that's been here all along."
[A/n: The meme, guys. The meme!]
Galam crashed to the other side towards his Orcs companions. He tried to stagger his way up the Orcs were attacked.
Karly and Miranda showed up out of nowhere and circled around the Labourer of Malacath then shot him with a quiver worth of arrows. The Orc was not pierced in any vitals so he was kept alive but crippled.
Mirren appeared behind the Labourer of Peryite and took him in rounds and rounds with an unimaginable speed forcing the Orc to spin around himself and then collapse like a fool. Mirren then kicked Spellbreaker away and forced the Orc down.
Jon noticed that both Mirren and Miranda were using a Wind Aura which was clearly unusual in both aptitude and racial preference but that wasn't a big deal anyway.
"That is one unusual way to take down someone." Jon spoke to Mirren.
"If he is the perfect defense then the key is not to attack him. I met a lot of his kind. But… that was one unusual way to take down a fort." Mirren replied.
"Oh! That was just me showing off the gains." Jon wasn't humble about it.
On the other hand, Galam was already up and tried to attack Mirren from the back.
"Not my honey boo, you bastard."
Isha appeared out of nowhere and stuck the spear that Jon gave her to the back of Galam's knee and pinned him down to the ground. She then came in front of him and gave him one angry punch that knocked almost dented his ebony helm and sent him to dreamland.
"Honey boo?" Jon asked.
"Stop it." Mirren wanted to hide his face.
Isha recovered the Spear of Bitter Mercy at once and hugged it as if she missed her ever dear.
"Good job, my friends. Job well done indeed." The Old Woman seemed to have finally walked all the way here.
"Old Cat, one bruised Galam and two Orcs delivered as promised." Jon presented.
"Indeed, thank you. You have my gratitude. Is he conscious?" The Old Woman pointed at Galam.
Isha took his helm off to see his red eyes glaring daggers at Jon and the Old Woman.
The Old Woman sighed and approached Galam was pulled up by Isha.
"Boy, you really shouldn't have done that. You should never have betrayed me." She said.
"Rot in Oblivion, you monster freaks!" Galam shouted at her and Jon.
"What's with this guy? Did the Skooma Cat lick him?" Mirren asked.
"Wait! Sheogorath licks people?" Jon asked.
"It is a common saying in Elsweyr but no… the Skooma Cat didn't lick him." The Old Woman replied at Jon and looked at Galam with pity, "Some people are just fated to not have an aptitude with one another. Galam is a kind that doesn't go well with ours, my friend."
"Oh! I don't get it." Jon frowned.
"I'll tell you later but you will meet more of his kind one day. Those who rebel at magnificence as they don't believe that some were born gifted and walk paths other can't." She said.
"Cause you are freaks." Galam struggled in Isha's hands.
"Hehe! That's the whole thing? What a pity!" Jon became turned down.
"So, boy. Don't you have anything to say?" The Old Woman asked Galam.
"..." He refused to look at her.
"You were sheltered in my house and you betrayed me. A common thing between the cultists of Boethiah but you know that the most thing I value, my gold and my silver is Loyalty, Galam. You didn't just betray me, you betrayed Boethiah when you put your hands with the Labourer of Malacath. You know what that means in your Cult to go in cahoots with the enemy of your Prince." She said.
Galam preferred to keep silent.
"What do you see me as, boy?" She asked.
"You want to here once again? You are a Monster. The Gods doesn't judge you so it is up to others but others can't… so it had to be me." Galam said with pain.
"Yes, you are right… but not all monsters are the same and not every one of us is evil." She said.
"HA! You think I will believe that? It makes me sick imagining myself to be like you, doing what you do. How do you live with yourself, monster?" He asked in a frenzy.
"By saving lives and serving the greater good. I am a sin eater, boy. I absorb the misdeeds of others darkening my soul to keep theirs pure. That's what I am capable of. That's why you see me as a monster but as bad as you may think I am or as far as you may think I am willing to go to protect what I hold dear, you can't possibly fathom how deep the will of mine truly goes. Yes, my boy. I am a Monster." She said in an unshakable tone.
"God I love you!" Jon was so absorbed in her speech which made her smile and shake her head.
"Would you please finish our Orc friends here? Let's not make them suffer more." She suggested.
"Okay."
Miranda and Mirren delivered the finishing blows to the two Orcs and tried to salvage their Daedric Artifact but they disappeared into thin air.
"That's?" Mirren asked.
"I don't think the Daedra who are not on our side would let us just take their things?" Jon explained.
The Altmer twins looked disheartened but Jon pointed them at the Thalmor Arch Wizard he captured. The two seemed to have had an old payback with their kinsman as he started screaming when he saw their faces before they gut him like a fish in a bloody execution.
"What should we do with him?" Isha asked.
The Old Woman closed her eyes weighted by the thought of killing someone who was on her side ones then she remembered what he had done to Narsis and remembered his past too.
"A boy comes home one day to find everything that gives meaning to his life… gone. Corps burned, animals slaughtered, bodies broken apart and shattered on the ground. Everyone he ever loved was taken from him… his parents, his sisters. One can only imagine the pit of despair and… the hours of love and happiness stripped away from him, leaving him to the burden of his very existence. He makes a promise to himself in those dark hours to slay those monsters who play people to death and a life of misery is fated on him. Years go by and his suffering becomes… complicated. One day he stops, that boy who is no longer a boy, and he sees the havoc he left in his wake… It is now he who burns, he who slaughters, and he knows in his heart He Must Pay." The Old Woman said then gazed at the man in front of her, "Doesn't he, Galam?"
Silence overtook the mood. Knowing the man in front of them was something but knowing the man to a deeper degree is another.
"He couldn't help it." Jon said.
"Maybe." The Old Woman said, "Maybe he is not that broken yet. May he can make amends to those he hurt… Or maybe not."
The Old Woman waved her hand in a flash slaying Galam in a second. Isha let go of Galam who fell on the muddy ground taking his last breath.
The Old Woman took a deep breath and refreshed her mood.
"The title of the Champion of Boethiah goes to the man who bested him, Jon Dare. You may as well have the 'Ebony Armor'. I received that word from the Temple last night." She said.
"Thank you." Jon replied.
She turned around and walked a few steps then stopped.
"You Labour is over, my friends. Please be my guests until you receive a word from your prophets and there is a small party and some gifts from me to you. Please."
"By all means."
And by that, Jon's Sixth Labour is over.
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Yes, I am a sucker for Blacklist quotes.
A/n: a 4K words chapter which is a double Chapter. Daily + 8k Votes extra
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As the threats were over around Mournhold, the city could take a breather for the coming few months. The opposition between the Government, the Temple and the People was turned down a tad by the uncovering of some plots regarding what House Dres tried to do in Narsis and how House Indoril was about to hinder the missions if the Labourers of Azura, Boethiah and Mephala. Of course, the Government and the Temple could put merely some pressure on the Great Houses and let bygones be bygones after some donations and contributions.
Politics was always like that at the end of the day. Religions create lines, Coins solve problems and Politicians keep a wide smile and hide agendas within agendas.
Regarding the Labourers, Mirren and Miranda, as well as Isha, seemed to have finished their seven Labours and paid the Daedra back. Jon, however, was sitting alone thinking while looking at Isha from afar.
He just received his Seventh Labour from Aranea.
"Follow the Spearmaiden and your Labour will be revealed." She said.
He could pretty much anticipate that. He was told once that Isha is a big player in his Final Labour but...
"You bastards, the girl has gone through Oblivion to finish her Labours and go home. What more do you want from her?" Jon roared at Aranea back then.
Not that he could expect an answer but all he was told was that she will need him whether he liked it or not. Somehow, he had to figure out an excuse to say that he will stick around with her or anything.
"... Goddammit..." Jon could only bury his face between his arms and hope this gets better somehow.
"So... the Martial Arts schools in Hammerfell should be more promising than Black March, right? We wanted to try the Dunmeri Martial Arts but sadly they are declining." Mirren spoke to Lanmas as the two were having a conversation at the bar area.
"I can help with that. I am from a renowned Martial Arts school myself and I have friends in various schools... but do you think it is a good idea being an Altmer and roaming around Hammerfell?" Isha joined the conversation.
"As long as there is a mutual base understanding to martial arts between those schools and mine, I don't mind going to Oblivion if it takes that." Mirren replied.
"Our Master wanted us to compete with other martial artists if possible." Even the quiet Miranda decided to join.
"What school are you from?" (Isha)
"Desert Wind." (Mirren)
"From Elsweyr? That's famous." (Isha)
"What about you?" (Miranda)
"Ebonarm Citadel, the Western Mosque." (Isha)
"The School of the Spear Battlelord?" (Miranda)
"That's a surprise." (Mirren)
"I am an instructor at my school. You can follow me back home if you wish, I'll show you around and introduce you to my brother." (Isha)
Jon's ear suddenly reacted like a cat's ear to that last thing.
"Can I tag along as well?" He said right away.
The rest looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"You are interested in Martial Arts?" Mirren asked.
"Do Nords have any Martial Traditions other than training their Battle-Spirits and swinging around their axes?" Even Isha wondered.
Jon felt a bit awkward. It was a common knowledge that Nords, Breton and Altmer don't practice Martial Arts the same way the other races do. Redguard, Khajiit, Argonians, Dunmer and sometimes Imperials are very enthusiastic about Martial Arts but it is a common misconception that other races don't do as well.
All races practiced martial arts someway or another else there would be no people known as warriors. Traditional Martial Arts weren't necessarily what everyone needed as common weapon technique and warfare teachings were already widespread. Most would associate the Technique to the Weapon rather than to a Style School. Nords had Axemen Berserkers who fight different than a Breton Axe Warband, some styles are suitable for groups while others are suitable for individuals but it was all about the weapon in the end.
Still, it was awkward not to name a single martial art in front of them.
".. We have Glima." Jon said. [A/n: Nordic Folk Wrestling]
"That's just wrestling. Everyone wrestle." Mirren retorted.
"Then I'll go with you. Maybe I'll gain some interest in something while I am at it." Jon slipped his agenda perfectly.
"Good, the more the merrier." Isha said.
"What about your last Labour? Won't you go slay one of those Dragons you don't shut up about?" Mirren aimed where it hurts.
"Ah... Well, Aranea met me this morning and had something interesting about my Labour..."
"Oh! What is it?" The three were interested right away.
"Well... it seems that... I have to roam the world and find out. Hahaha! Going with you is not that bad for a starter, isn't it?" Jon laughed it off.
"Hm... vague!" Miranda narrowed her eyes and didn't say anything further.
The talk about Martial Arts kept going on and on. As far as Jon is concerned, he knows a fairly good amount of sword techniques and the basics were hammered into him by Hilda. If it is about Unarmed fighting then he knows Boxing, Kickboxing, Wrestling and some MMA he picked from his memories.
Boarding his knowledge about Martial Arts... this became a good excuse to follow along indeed but he has to participate in every conversation with these three Martial Arts fanatics from now on.
What was making him busy right now was his book that got finished but kept him busy copying it by magic. He was struggling a bit with some finishes but it all came together at the end of the day.
By the second morning, Jon was wearing his crimson College Robe that had his badge as a teacher in Winterhold and took a few of his book's copies with him.
"I hope you are ready." The Old Woman waited for him in her carriage.
Jon sighed and nodded.
"I hoped my master could be here today but I hope you help me sent those copies back home to Winterhold."
"Without fail, my friend. I must say I have quite the number of questions but I'll leave them to the debate. Off we go, driver."
***
Shad Astula Academy was right to the North of Mournhold and the carriage ride took only a couple of hours to get there. Next thing Jon knew was being welcomed by the staff members of Shad Astula.
The Old Woman was a major donator to the Academy and she pulled a few strings for Jon to have a meeting in the main hall of the Academy with the Masters and the Arch Mage. Sadly, because of him being a Nord, some had an indifferent atmosphere towards what a Nord mage would come up with in a book so they just were here for the sake of formalities.
Prior to this day, Jon had to deliver a copy of his book to the Academy to at least have his examiners ready to roast him a little but somehow his examiners didn't show up until he was in the hall. Defying his expectations, there was a number of students from various races in the hall and the high member of the Academy took the first seats.
Jon stood on the stage behind a lectern and three old mages showed up and stood in front of him.
"Examinee Jon Dare, Expert Mystic from our friend and rival the College of Winterhold. That was quite a book you wrote." One of the examiners said.
"Thanks, sir."
"Don't thank me just yet. We are obliged to examine you about what you wrote and ask some questions. Let's start from the beginning... the Title... You called your book [The Timely Lie]."
"Indeed."
"Explain the title."
"The book contains some of my studies on the Teachings of the Prophet Veloth which caused the Chimer people to follow the Daedric Princes Mephala and Boethiah and denounce the faith of the Aldmer as well as the relationship between those Teachings and the God of Time. I also added some of my thoughts on the God of Time in all his forms and finally how to employ the Teachings of Prophet Veloth which are known as [The Psijic Endeavor]." Jon explained briefly.
The whole hall tensed in one go. This subject is 100% Dark Elf related. The Chimer are the ancestors of the Dunmer and this book goes around their very origin. For an outsider to come with such a book and demand it to be published in Morrowind... he is either a fool who wants to show off and embarrass himself or someone with a big theory in mind that will go headbutting many ideas and researches.
"Truth be told, the book is quite a dangerous subject. Jon Dare, as a researcher you should know that, right?"
"Absolutely."
"Then let's start..."
And the debate began. Three Master's from Shad Astula against Jon Dare questioning every little detail in his book, that includes the writing style and the language mistakes too.
"First off, I wrote an introduction about the Psijic Endeavor as one of the known six Walk Ways and a method of attaining divinity (achieving the Tower), becoming a Royalty (CHIM) and what to do after. It is known as a process of glorious apotheosis, where Time itself is bent inward and outward into 'a Shape that is always New'. The Shape that is always New is a metaphor for growth in my personal opinion.
The term 'Psijic' itself comes from PSJJJJ which is not a word to be read but rather a sigil from the Ehlnofex (Language of the Fallen Spirits) and it describes the Chaotic Motions of Sithis, the very Spirit of Padomay, the one Primal Chaos.
My research relies on the Monomyth of Creation regarding how by the Presence of the God of Time could the Chaos be resolved into Order and the Spirits came to be. The Psijic Endeavor, in my opinion, is the process where time is seen as a hindrance and the very reason behind Mortality, unlike the common belief for it as the fault of Lorkhan.
What I am trying to say is... Why did the Elven Ancestor Trinimac try to stop Prophet Veloth from spreading his teachings among the Aldmer and also trying to stop the Chimer migration to Morrowind only to get himself devoured by Boethiah and later exerted as the Daedric Prince Malacath? Boethiah claimed that many lies and rumors about Lorkhan were the fabrications of Trinimac as she spoke in his voice to reveal them.
This accident happened in the Merethic Era when creations were still struggling with Mortality. Due to the creation of the Mortal World, many Spirits lost their Immortality and became our ancestors. They tried hard to go back to Aetherius again and attain Immortality especially the Aldmer, ancestors of all Elves, but when Prophet Veloth came up with a method, he faced opposition.
Wasn't regaining immortality the big deal at that time and Trinimac actions are seriously unexplained regarding his unending Animosity to Lorkhan and the Humans? I am not sure about the schools of thoughts back then but I assume that some considered getting aid from the forces of Oblivion to be heresy. I took a few notes in that subject but that is not what the research is about.
The important thing comes when I mention the effects of the Mind on Reality. What we believe in becomes possible and take Sheogorath for example. In most parts of the world, he is the well dressed gentleman with a cane who has an ever so changing mood with the homicidal tendencies of making juice out of babies and creating musical instruments out of old ladies. In Elsweyr however, he is the Skooma Cat who appears as an Alfiq with the tendency to lick people into madness and use them as playthings. At the end of the day, it is the same Old Sheogorath either way but what is different is the way people perceive in him. He won't appear to Dunmer as a cat... only to a Khajiit and in Elsweyr.
As I mentioned, belief is a big part of the answer and that is not just limited to Sheogorath and the other Daedric Bunch but same goes for Aedra. We have Lorkhan who is Shezarr who is Sheor who is Shor who is Sep who is the Totem Fox. Shor appeared to Ysgramor as a fox back in the days of the Ancient Nordic Pantheon on Atmora but his avatars came afterwards as Men like Ysmir Wulfharth for example.
One of the interesting examples of change is with the God of Time himself as his aspects vary from one another as sperate entities all together and that's due to Belief. It changed a whole lot about the God of Time.
At first, he was Auri-El, the Patron of Aldmer, Altmer and Falmer as far as we know. Then Saint Alessia came and established a covenant with a form of the God of Time known as the Dragon Akatosh.
How did this Akatosh come to be?
In the early days of the First Empire, the Alessian Sect watered all the Gods of Elves and Men into new versions that suit its purposes and the most important mix was between Shezarr, a version of Lorkhan symbolized by the Snake, and Auriel of the Elves, symbolized by the Eagle. The Eagle and the Snake gave us Akatosh, the Dragon.
Now I know there are other researches to read about that point but what I want to highlight is the ability to change in the nature of the Original Spirits. Sheogorath himself once said "Everything changes even Daedric Princes... especially Daedric Princes."
This change is mostly based on belief but how can almighty beings as the Aedra and the Daedra be so easy to change?
The answer is always Beliefs and Thoughts but... is that it?
No one is interested in changing the Daedra or the Aedra. The Orcs and the Dunmer should know very well how these things turn into disasters in the end.
But what else is there that can change by belief or rather "Mass Belief"?
There is a term in Psychology known as the Placebo Effect. You are having mild dizziness then I give you a medicine which is not actually a medicine then you somehow become better. Its opposite is the Nocebo Effect where I give you a drug and say this will make you vomit while it actually doesn't but you vomit anyway.
Now keep that in mind.
The World works the same way. Our Beliefs has an effect on the Gods that may change something about them or even create an entirely new aspect. Our Minds create Reality.
We keep that in mind too and go back to the Prophet Veloth teachings about the Psijic Endeavor. In the Dunmer Pantheon which is based on these teachings, there is no existence for the God of Time whatsoever.
The Psijic Endeavor relies on twisting the Time to achieve immortality by denying Time itself.
Now we know that Reality relies on Belief and Beliefs can change almost anything. Then isn't the concept of Time is also just a belief that can be denied.
The Mind can create its own Reality and World Changing ideas need to be Viral. From the Dawn Era when Time was not stable or linear until it settled down in the days of the Merethic Era... how long did it take to make an agreeable concept of Time by the collective thoughts of people?
Is it possible... that we just live in a Timely Lie?
That Time itself is just one of the other Illusions that the Mundus forced on us?
If that's the case... what else is an illusion?
Age?
Getting Old?
Dying?
Reality has more riddles that complicate our lives more than Time and 'Belief can Change the World' is nothing but a worthy shot in my opinion.
The multiracial problem ever since Creation was to return from this Mortal World back to the Immortal World where our ancestors came from.
Wouldn't this mean that Robbing Time from the Dragon is a good way to do so?"
Jon finished the presentation and took a breath.
"If you are interested then by all means, read more details in my book."
***
The Examination Committee seemed to be taking its time considering the book and the wild ideas Jon came up with.
"Aging is an Illusion? Say that to my wrinkles." The Old Woman tapped on Jon's shoulder.
"Oh come on, you're beautiful beyond redemption." Jon turned to her with a smug joke.
"Didn't expect any less from your book. Now people say you are mad." She said.
"Blessed be the Mad..." Jon said but got interrupted.
"... For they hold the Key to the Secret Knowledge." A man continued for him.
Jon and the Old Woman turned to see a dark elf old man in a super fancy robe.
"Who said that?" The Old Woman asked.
"Sheogorath." The Old Man said.
"Divy, how marvelous to see you here, my dear. Come here." The Old Woman and exchanged a kiss with him.
"Don't mind us, my friend. This is an old friend of mine." The Old Woman coolly brushed her action off, she then lowered her tone and spoke.
"Let me introduce you, this is..."
"An honor to meet you once again, Great Grandmaster." Jon put a hand on his chest and slightly bowed for the Old Man.
"You know each other... Wait! Great Grandmaster?" The Old Woman looked between Jon and Divayth Fyr.
"Well well, looks like you have been busy writing a book, Jon my boy. Those were some nice ideas" Divayth Fyr said.
"Thank you very much."
"Loosen up a bit. And you, little girl, how come you know Alfe's Student's Student?" Divayth Fyr asked.
"I see... He is a business partner and currently exiled from Skyrim so he is staying at my place for some time." She said.
"Exiled? Is there someone bold enough to exile one of my line of students?" Divayth Fyr turned scary all of a sudden.
"It is just an arrangement for a couple of years until peace returns to the land. Killing ten Thalmor Arch Wizards and a battalion of two thousand while being a Demigod for ten minutes is bound to bring trouble to my people." Jon explained.
"I see. Fairly good job. Looks like I am missing the fun nowadays. Tell me you are going to get back on them anyway." Divayth Fyr said mischievously.
"Sure, I just need some time to not attract the attention of any Thalmor Ancestor or anything." Jon replied.
"Thalmor Ancestor? No, you don't need to worry about that woman. She saw her children getting slaughtered a couple of centuries ago and didn't raise a finger. Do as you wish with them, they just use the name of that Ancestor as a facade."
"Really?" Jon was taken aback.
"Truth be told, Skyrim has more Ancestors than Summerset." Divayth Fyr dropped another bomb.
"Impossible! Never came across any." Jon couldn't take that one even from Divayth Fyr himself.
"Don't you have that Temple on the Snow Throat mountain? High Hrothgar?"
"You mean... the Greybeards?"
"Exactly. They are the Ancestors of Skyrim and they can even Summon other Ancestors by their voices from that Sovngarde just like how the Dunmer summon Ancestors by Magic."
"..." Jon was having a hard time processing that one.
"Worry not, my friend. Ancestors are mostly peaceful in all countries. One can only imagine the damage they do when they start throwing spells around." The Old Woman comforted Jon.
"Yeah... one can only imagine..." Jon said with empty eyes.
He had a pretty good idea of what she talked about. Anyone who played the game must have tried to take the Greybeards on at least once. Long story short, this was one of those moments when players were abused to death by NPCs.
"Thank you for your advice, Great Grandmaster."
"It's okay. Here I was planning to pass some time with old colleagues and here I find a book for a good read. I'll be around, young Jon, little girl." Divayth Fyr kept a low key and disappeared away to not attract attention.
"You didn't tell me you're from Divy's line of students." The Old Woman remarked.
"Not really a thing that anyone can believe... And you never told me you're all chummy with him." Jon said.
"Old-timers like us tend to strike together. Also, Divy and I are just friends. His list of lovers and mine are just too loose if I may say." She said without no shame.
"Amazing. I may have just found my ideal grandparents. So proud of you, guys!"
"Oh, you big flirt." She said then looked around, "Will they take all day?"
"No idea. But getting late means they are arguing." Jon looked around and found a mage from the staff and asked. "Do they usually take this long?"
"Oh, not really but a Priest from the Temple has entered the Committee to verify the facts from the Teachings of Prophet Veloth. It's all in progress." The staff member comforted Jon.
"In progress." Jon said to the Old Woman.
"Progress? Ah! It's a bitch." She said with an annoyed face.
"Indeed."
"Don't worry, I have a feeling your book will strike it high... but I have questions."
"Ask away."
"In your book, you left some questions unanswered. Shouldn't a book be about enlightening the reader?"
"Indeed. But the only question I left unanswered is about Robbing the Dragon." He answered.
"Robbing Time you mean." She said, "You say that time is a Lie but at the same time, Time is a thing that can be robbed?"
"Is the Dragon is only about time?" He asked.
"... The Sun... I guess."
"Isn't that Magnus?"
"Don't think you can confuse me. The Worshipers of Auri-El symbolize him through the Sun which is the Source of Magic. Also, the Blessing of Akatosh is about Magicka Regeneration." She said.
"You are right. What more do you understand?" He asked.
"The Law of the Dragon God of Time comes through the Sun which also brings Light and Magicka. If that's the case then hoarding Magicka in one's constitution is the answer. Which means more Meditation to Magicka... but all mages meditate, no real result here."
"Indeed. But you needed to meditate stronger." Jon corrected her.
"Is it safe?"
"An Astral Damage might occur but one needs to perfect the method and find the paths between the flesh and the spirit. Then by certain Techniques, one can open the door for enhancing their Spirit, then their Flesh, then their Hearts as far as I could reach."
"Wait... you can do that?"
"This is as far as I can hold your hand, Old Cat. Figure out the rest and let's talk during the party tomorrow." Jon said with a wink as he noticed the examiners coming out.
"Wait! What exactly am I lacking then?" The Old Woman couldn't let go of the entertainment moment.
Jon pointed to his head and spoke.
"Imagination."
"Oh... I see... The Idea of the Possibility… in other words... The Belief..."
"Hehe... you sly old woman!"
Jon was fascinated by how an Old Woman was as enthusiastic as a young researcher. Geniuses are geniuses no matter the age.
However, it was time.
The score of Jon's book was being announced. Jon was seriously not knowing how the Dunmer will react to a book written based on their traditional beliefs by an outsider.
They may just deny it.
But the paper that was hung on the front wall of the hall put a smile on his face.
[The Timely Lie - Verified by the Temple of Reclamation, Accepted by the Academy of Shad Astula - Allowed for Public Release]
"I never tire of being correct." The Old Woman said.
~~~~~~~~~~
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Lore + Theory Chapter... I had to pull an All nighter just to put the lore in place. if I say you saying you just skimmed through it cuz it's boring then we have problems man! real problems!
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GOT IT