Memospore Zed-9: A Story of the Last War (II)

[file: Zed-9:Aka resonance:5E/802]

[the memospore opens in crackles of suffused nigularity]

[the distorted image of a Moth priest forms]

[his appearance is ragged; he is missing his left eye, in its place is a swarm-form simulacra, glowing faintly]

Appearances must be kept up, of course. Not everyone is willing to accept this New Faith. Do you like that, Aka? “New Faith”, a mockery of the old. One might as well call it Un-faith. Men, you see, can be petty too – you have taught us so well.

The war is…worse. The Legion still spouts their narrative of victory as “Zenithar’s good labor”; whatever it takes to stir the masses, I suppose. There are rumors of a band of Tongues in Skyrim, liberating the death camps and raising an army. It won’t be long until the Elves send someone to deal with it; an easy journey with Colovia in their hands.

[the memospore crackles in the manner of temporal passage]

[the same Moth priest; he is smiling]

It seems I’m not alone, Aka. There are others who have taken to my theology. The New Faith grows.

[the memospore crackles in the manner of temporal passage]

[the same Moth priest; his head is shaven and a series of scars run over his scalp]

[the background is difficult to make out, but appears to be a desert]

We…wondered…when the Ra Gada didn’t answer. Some of us decided to go, we Paladins of the New Faith. Not difficult to abscond with a Moth-ship these days. The left hand has never known what the right is doing…any excuse will do.

Did you give them the knowledge, Aka? The Elves? Or was it your milk-drinking slut, Julianos? I wonder if you did it before you re-wrote Time for them. Such an ignoble fate for Tamriel’s greatest warriors. In the end it didn’t just sterilize them, that was cruel enough. Like all your curses it grew, transmuted; it became a nymic-necrotic, eating them alive.

Thank you, Aka. You fuel our Faith with your horrors.

Did I mention we found a Khajiit – some Thalmor deserter? He told us much before the end. It was me that decided to enact mimesis: carving his progenia and peeling away his skin seemed almost poetic, given what you did to the Ra Gada. Fear not, Aka, our healing spells keeping him alive despite his pleas for death. Such we will do to all who love you.

[transmission interrupted]

[processing]