Aufhel and Helbung

Dear Marcienne,

I send you transcribed the fragment you requested from “Accounts of the exiled Altmer”. Please do not ask me to consult that book ever again, there’s pretty harrowing stuff in there, and the “library” you told me that had it also had for sell, how shall I put it, less savoury things. Anyway here’s the excerpt you asked for, the interview to this Girgo Margil, although, I have to say it, he sound to me like a fool of the islands. Before the Thalmor, island people like him were the reason we were so disregarded and hated in the continent. I hope it serves you well in your research. If you ever drop by the Imperial City you know where to find me.

Sincerely, Saudal Silino.

Many were still fooled after that atrocious event. A few finally started seeing what the Thalmor really stand for. But me? I knew all along. That was just the catalyst I needed to pack my things and leave. Thanks to mother I was able to tell that all this Thalmor nonsense was not going to end well.

Why I knew through my mother? You see, when I was a small child I was kind of an impertinent little brat. There was this kid in our city who was Cyrodilic, probably the son of someone at the Imperial Delegation, and we teased him every day and every night. We ran behind him, called him names, and stole his lunch; whatever insolent kids do. But one day I took it too far. We were teasing him in front of my house and I told him that I wished for his entire race to disappear, just like the Dwemer. Mother heard that through the window, got down to the street and pulled me home.

She gave me the scolding of a lifetime. How did I dare to say something like that? Hadn’t she taught me properly? She even said to me that I wasn’t much different to the Atmoran Butcher, which was a grave admonition. Once she was more calmed, and saw I was beginning to understand the full weight of my words, she told me this old story of my people as a cautionary tale.

Back in the Era of the Coiling, when we were no longer divine but not still purely mortal, there were two Ancestors who hated each other. Their true names are lost to time, but over generations they were given the pseudonyms of Aufhel and Helbung, two beings locked in eternal opposition. When one said white the other said black, when one said up the other said down, what one desired the other hated. There was no meeting point between them, no aspect in which they were not totally and absolutely irreconcilable. Aufhel was the favourite among the Ancestors, he always made the right choices and held the right beliefs, while Helbung always erred and was proven wrong all the time.

One fateful day something horrendous happened. In one of their heated discussions Aufhel became so enraged and so disgusted at his peer’s ignorance and wrongness that he wished aloud for his death. Back then, when mortality was still a recent concept to have to grasp, to wish for the death of someone was considered as the ultimate blasphemy, an unforgivable act. Aufhel was put forward in front of all the other Ancestors to be judged by his tremendous profanity. It was decided that he deserved the worst possible punishment that could be inflicted on him. And so they immediately carried on with a most terrible punishment.

They executed Helbung.

In the beginning Aufhel didn’t understand what had just transpired. It looked more like a boon than a curse. Finally he could exist without nagging opposition. But the effects of what just had occurred didn’t take long to make themselves evident. Soon he found that while in the past he was always singing convincing hymns and crafting frivolous speeches, he could not anymore. There was nothing for him to express. No impulse to portray himself. He felt he was getting bigger and wider but at the same time was becoming more and more transparent. In a last effort to retain himself he went into the river, looked upon his reflection and repeated to himself “I am Aufhel, I am not Helbung”. He repeated it once and once again until he caught himself saying something completely different: “I am Aufhel because I am not Helbung”. And in that moment he became boundless and disappeared. The wrongness for which Helbung always stood for was remembered, from Aufhel nothing remained.

And after telling me this tale, mother also told me that just as Aufhel couldn’t exist without Helbung, we cannot exist without mankind. We are Old because we are not Wanderers, you are Wanderers because you are not Old. Although in dire need of our wisdom, you show us the way we should not traverse, so we may be better by opposition. If the Thalmor succeed in “purifying” Nirn, how we may know who we are?