Spirits of our Swords

Olysseus, Quartermaster and Blade-Inscriber of the Shattering Fusion

The Shattering Fusion is often frowned down upon by the rest of our people, especially the other Penta Wards and the Troika. It is because we are the ones given the responsibility of teaching the ways of blood and sweat, a role we view as both a blessing and a curse.

Echmer do not like to fight; when our people was young we did nothing but war against each other after the Dwemer disappeared. But we do when we have to and that is why our Ward is needed. We are the ones that craft, take up, and instruct the race of our race to take up arms against our enemies both foreign – like the dirty ice devils the Kamal – and domestic. If it wasn’t for us, our people would’ve been wiped from existence centuries ago due to our ‘pacifism’, as our late Hypothesian said before she passed away. Out of all her quotes that have inspired me over the years it is perhaps this one that I both admire and hate the most:

“This is the hypocrisy of the Echmeri people: Advocate Peace. Practice Violence.”

I will never forget that quote. I could never forget that quote. We try hard to cover up the things we hate about our society, but it is obvious we cannot succeed in such an endeavor. Unlike the other Penta Wards however, the Shattering Fusion has come to terms with both our best qualities and our worst quirks, which is why we are the most honorable out of all the Wards. No other upholds a greater sense of duty, or The Four Honorable Troths and The Eight Virtuous Paths of Enlightenment. War isn’t just the bloody cut across the neck that ends a life – it is also the ambassador that leads to a period of tranquility after much hardship.

Take for example a tool that encompasses both the light and dark sides of war: the sword. Swords are designed to slash, slice, and stab opponents on the battlefield. To some, it is only a tool for the spilling of blood. But for those that grow up under the influence of the Shattering Fusion or have undergone training in our armies it symbolizes much more. A servicemer is a mouth and their sword represents their tongue. It represents not only your own voice but the voice of the entire Echmer people that you’re fighting for when you wield it.

Something that is a little known fact (and our race so loves facts) is that new swords are rarely forged and we do not like making them. Swords are to be passed down from generation to generation until that particular Sect either dies out or is removed from the annuals of history. But if a new sword has to be made then the procedure is as followed. First, the blade is forged from solarite ore within forges heated by a combination of sand, wood, stone, and magical flame. As is customary since the early years of the First Aeon, each blade is hollowed. Once molded into the desire shape the weaponsmith is given some of the future owner’s blood to fill the hollow after it has cooled. He then takes the blade to be dipped in the ocean, to appease the ancestors of the future owner.

While Echmeri souls cease to exist after death to them being bound to the Void, all members of our kind that has graduated from the Institution knows that our memories become the water that makes up Nirn. Because of this our ancestors are never truly gone, and water is respected by our people. The hollow of the blade is then filled with water, so the future wielder can always be surrounded by family when on the battlefield away from home. The memories of your ancestors are always here to protect you from harm. The last step after the blade has been bonded to its hilt is that the sword is given to me, where I inscribe the entire genealogy of the future wielder’s Sect permanently on the blade. A constant reminder to a servicemer that he or she is never alone, even if the rest of their battalion has been killed they still have a sword that will always be there for them.

Because of this process, a sword is much more than a weapon. Much more than an extension of the body. It is family, which is why our people is fiercely protective about our swords. To have someone steal your sword is like having someone kidnap your child. To have someone break your sword is like having someone kill your murder. It is not uncommon for a servicemer to name their sword or refer to it as their ‘brother’ or ‘sister’; in fact, it is perhaps the greatest show of trust to have someone share the name of their sword with you. Legends even depict tales of familial swords not allowing themselves to be wielded by corrupted Sect members, as if the ancestors within them can sense they are no longer members of the family.

A sword is much more than a weapon. It feels and speaks and hears and sees.

This is one of the secrets of the Shattering Fusion, we keep close to our hearts. We forge the swords. We speak life into the swords. And we give them their souls.