The Apostasy of Trinimac
Some of you may remember this piece which I wrote pretty much a year ago. This presents another angle on how Trinimac could have become Malacath.
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“I will not be the strongest forever.”
Click.
“I am going to die.”
Tick.
He breathed for the first time not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He pushed at bundles of spirits around him, and they did not shatter like they used to. They would yield, but intact, sometimes sending vibrations of resentment and anger towards him, something they would never dare to do before. He discovered it took more effort to kill them than it used to. Some still showed proper respect, so rather than kill them, he bargained with them.
He was still the strongest, for now, anyways, until then, he could work on staying strongest for as long as possible.
He knew he wasn’t the strongest, of course, but he was the strongest among who cared about such matters, and that is how became known as the strongest.
He protected, nurtured and educated these loyal and strange bundles of spirits, and they in turn helped gain the loyalty of the hateful ones, or at least, they proved able to kill them on his behalf, saving him the energy. The many others were doing the same thing, and some of them, he would associate with, in the hopes of gaining more followers. He shared many followers with those Most Powerful, was respectful for the most part, but resentful as well.
His truest name was an essence, so he allowed his followers to name him. He had so many followers that his names were manifold, but his favourite was Trinimac, because those who chose that name were his fiercest followers. To him the name showed him as a multifaceted champion of his followers, a manifold hero for a manifold people. The name Trinimac helped him forget that his truest essence held a deep rage, sorrow and desire to escape his lot. He was sickened by the slick of Auriel that tainted everything around him, constantly reminding him of his impending doom; and he felt Lorkhan (Trinimac refused to use his preferred name, Shor) poisoning every action, every decision with his devious, vexatious rules.
Trinimac tried to kill Lorkhan, once, with the help of Auriel. They greatly accelerated the removal of Lorkhan from their immediate presence, and that of mortals; but it proved impossible to remove his essence. Once in a while, an aspect of Lorkhan would even appear here or there, a mocking reminder of their partial (and therefore total) failure.
What happened with Lorkhan, while very satisfying on a certain level to Trinimac, it was also troubling. Lorkhan was an incredibly enigmatic and powerful being, one of the Most Powerful, and he could be killed in this environment, or at least mostly banished. Which meant Trinimac had a similar vulnerability.
Trinimac became even more fixated on the knowledge that he would eventually die, because he realised that not only would he eventually get old and fade into the background, but that he could be forced into the background by angry upstarts.
He demanded more and more of his followers, demanding converts, stricter and more exclusive worship, putting pressure on the cults of those who even tangentially resembled him. He was harsh, and spoke vile words about Lorkhan, sharing his fear and dislike for the Mundus with his followers.
Some of his followers fled, seeking a new champion who cared for more than simply their own status. Others sought revenge, and found a champion eager to help.
Boethiah thought Trinimac was very stupid indeed, and felt not a little bit sorry for him for agreeing to Lorkhan’s plot. The consequences had seemed abundantly clear to Boethiah, who cleverly declined the invitation. Boethiah had rather liked Lorkhan, despite his wrong-headed idea, and felt that Trinimac was being grossly unfair. The lies themselves were not a problem, Boethiah lied all the time and encouraged the same in her followers; the problem lay with the hordes of followers that belonged to Trinimac, and the bilious rage in his words that they devoured, and they they were force-fed to those who would not eat.
Slowly she began to bargain with the eaters of Trinimac’s words. She used both truth and lies to weave her scheme, although she got greater satisfaction from the truth in this case, and thus used it more. She armed them with their own words, the promise of new ideas and a novel way of reaching divinity.
Although the people still mouthed the words of Trinimac, he felt the strength of their faith fading in his heart. In his despair, he finally saw the strength and potential in his creations.
Tick.
“Boethiah is luring away my faithful, and making them stronger than me.”
Ticktickticktickticktick.
“Boethiah will be my undoing.”
Click.
He had ignored all the warning signs, the increasing resistance in his followers, the increasing difficulty in punishing sedition and apostasy, the increasing amount of energy it took to act directly in the world. He barely noticed the constant birth and death of his followers, and failed to realize that they were beginning to forget the freedoms he coveted so badly, and becoming increasingly comfortable and well-adapted to the Arena.
Click.
“I am no longer the strongest.”
Tick. Ticktickticktickticktickticktick.
Despair gripped Trinimac with that realization and he confronted Boethiah in her domain. He was drunk and high and stank of fear and mortality. He shrieked his grief at Boethiah, who sneered.
“I did not ‘steal’ your, or anyone else’s followers. You still have far more fervent worshippers than anyone in the Aurbis. You are weak and vain, and you speak lies about Lorkhan. Dangerous lies.”
“Dangerous for who?” Trinimac demanded angrily, swinging a burly golden arm.
“For anyone in the Aurbis, even Auriel himself is in danger from your lies.”
“You lie all the time.”
“My lies are for fun. I play mortals and spirits against one another in the hopes of carving out another infinitesimal slice of influence for myself. I am telling you that you risk destroying everything, your followers, maybe even undoing yourself!”
“How do I know you aren’t lying now?” he slurred.
“You don’t, because you are stupid and ignorant. If you took the merest second to understand the least part of Lorkhan’s plan, it would be obvious that I am telling the truth. But all you understood form Lorkhan is that infinite power is possibly within our grasp here. You did not listen to the rules imposed upon those that would become the Bones, the foundation of the Mundus. You did not listen to the indirect nature of your influence on this creation. You did not understand the Totems, and the permanent nature of your transformation. Not because it was not explained, but because you chose not to understand.
And you dare accuse me of stealing your followers? I am going to save their pathetic souls. Look at yourself, you are arrogant, lecherous, and indifferent towards your spirits. You are not worth following anymore.
Unworthy walker, squanderer of faith. You are the vain God of Betrayal and your banner is a cock. Be gone from my realm.”
Click.
Trinimac was banished from Attribution’s Share. He hid for many months, causing his followers to wonder about him. It was not like him to go so long without any orders, praise or punishment. Without Trinimac lending his strength to his fiercest fighters, they were unable to prevent unrest within their ranks. Their numbers were simply too great.
When he did stir, it was in secret, and he summoned Boethiah into his presence, for he dared not step foot into her territory anymore. She stood before him, arms crossed, a look for disapproval on her chosen face; a golden elven face, not quite masculine nor feminine, but attractive. She wore the body of an attractive woman, but Trinimac was not in a state to look upon anyone with desire.
“Your tantrums age you. You should see Kyne, she’s in great shape for an ‘Aedra’, as you call yourselves. Even Auriel, also an idiot traitor to Shor, is looking better than you; he is over it and accepted this place. You need to do the same.”
“I...need...out.” Trinimac said haltingly, “I cannot do this. I cannot accept this place, this way of being. I was stupid, I was rash, I should never have agreed to do this. I want to be like you. A-a-a Daedra.”
“Impossible.”
“That is a lie.”
Boethiah was silent for some time, taking stock of the Ehlnofey champion. “It is not impossible, but you must accept the outcome. You will not be whole. You saw it yourself when you failed to expunge Shor from the fabric of creation. You are bound to the Mundus, part of you must remain. Your name, your very nature will be changed. A final betrayal, if you will.”
“I accept, I accept, I accept!” Trinimac threw himself down at Boethiah’s feet.
“You accepted Lorkhan’s promise without understanding, and look where it got him. Do you understand that you will be weaker than me in Oblivion? You will be weaker than many of us. Most of us will not care a whit about you. You will have no claim over any of your followers, except for those who choose to follow you, after I am done with you?”
“I told you I accept!”
Without a word, Boethiah vanished, and a gate appeared. It was opalescent and ornate, emanating a soft silvery glow that glittered off crystalline flowers that snaked around the structure. Azura appeared before him, as the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He was tall, lean and well-muscled, his skin silvery, eyes violet, lips full and red. He wore an off-the-shoulder robe that shimmered in the light of the gate, his tonsured head wreathed in a gentle flame.
“There is no room for your many-faced treachery in Oblivion. That Princedom is claimed by Mephala. Step through this gate to abandon that part of your Name in the Mundus. TRI stands for trickery and it is no longer yours.”
Trinimac rushed through the gate, and felt a rending that he had never experienced before. When he collapsed upon the other side of the gate, Azura vanished as he retched violently.
Another gate appeared, identical in form, but opposite in colour and feel. Where Azura’s gate glittered with beauty and light, this gate absorbed light and emanated darkness and ugliness. Mephala appeared, swathed head to toe in black cloth, totally obscured from observation. The form was tall and spindly, and a long curved blade was belted to its hip.
“There is no room for your vainglory and pride in Oblivion. That Princedom is claimed by Azura. Step through this gate to abandon that part of your Name in the Mundus. NI stands for vanity and it is no longer yours.”
Dragging himself to his feet, Nimac hurled himself through Mephala’s gate, feeling vulnerable and broken when he emerged on the other side. There was nothing left to vomit, so he wept on the ground.
A wall of flame erupted before Mac, purest blue, and on the other side, he could see Boethiah, her arms outstretched as if to embrace him. Mephala and Azura suddenly stood on either side of him, gesturing towards the flames. They spoke together;
“There is no room for your ambition in Oblivion. That Princedom is claimed by Boethiah. Step through the flames to abandon that part of your name in the Mundus. Mac stands for machination, and it is no longer yours.”
Mephala spoke, “When you pass though these flames, the betrayal will be complete. Boethiah will take your voice and confess your sins to your people.”
Azura spoke, “When you pass through these flames, the transformation will be complete. Boethiah will take what is left of you will be born again in Oblivion”
Boethiah spoke, “When you pass through these flames, your dominion in Oblivion will be complete. 'MAL' stands for the rejection you face and therefore represent. 'A' represents your newly singular nature. Cath represents the rigid rules you will represent, live by and enforce among your remaining followers. The Princes of Oblivion cannot aspire to the power of those of you bound to the Mundus, and you will cherish what followers honour you with their worship.”
“I am afraid,” said the creature that was once Trinimac and would become Malacath.
Boethiah smiled and spoke one more time,
"The fire is mine: let it consume thee,
And make a secret door
At the Altar of Padhome
In the House of Boet-hi-Ah
Where we become safe
And looked after."
Click.