A Dream of Red Mountain, A Horator Sundered

Excerpt from the journal of Telis Sadri, First Elder of the Tribunal Temple on Solsthiem, who came to the island 4E 17

 

The dream came to me long ago, early into beginning my orndaned pilgrimages, at to the Fields of Kummu. I was just a Layman in the newly Reclaimed Temple. It had been a few years since we Dunmer lost our Living God Watchers and the rembracing of the Ashlander traditions and the original Tribunal were still in flux as we tried to find our own way again. I arrived late to the shrine and took refuge inside an abandoned shack atop the hill for the night. It was there I dreamt.

 

I beheld a battlefield, huge automatons and brass encrusted warriors slammed ranks against holy warriors wrapped in chitin, netch leather, and bonemold, every combatant on both sides had skin the color of gold. Golden artillery bolts and flashes of magika destruction rained over both sides of the fray. The melee was taking place in a shadow, that of the Holy Red Mountain.

 

I then found myself beneath it’s flowing fireblood, to the Deep Hall, at the entrance of a Great Chamber. Here two champions faced each other, both wearing crowns. Atop the bearded Brass Champion’s crown was a negative space shaped like a tune, the other Champion’s crown bore 3 flaming jewels. The Brass Champion was struck down, his conqueror wounded. The Victor’s face writhed like the coils of a snake, his hands were blacker than a void, and each of his eyes shown a Crescent Moon and a single Star. This Mer then entered the Great Chamber as his life’s blood flowed from beneath his golden ebon armor.

 

Then in the Chamber I saw it, the Heart of us All, product of the First Sundering. It layed there in the shadow of the Unholy Colossus, still throbbing. As the bled Champion stood before the Drumming Muscle, his face coils solidified into an Ordinator mask made flesh, this dying champion bore the visage of St. Indoril Neravar, holy champion and Hortator.

 

A great many arms then emerged from the Doom Heart wielding blades, and cut the Horator into pieces, his body hitting the ground asunder. Then I beheld a stirring amongst the mound of disembodied pieces of merflesh as the Heart's beating blasted the heap with a Song of Betrayal.

 

The power tune-echoes began to reshape the pieces of the sundered champion. Out of the Feet, a Golden Lady arose with the same face-coils I saw before. Out of the Eyes grew a Wizard of immense power, his skin ashen and eyes on fire. Out of the blackened hands grew words that numbered 36 and equaled 1, which coalesced into a Riddle of Dualities, soaked in trauma. Out of his shadow, arose the Sharmat, diseased and drowned in a true lie. All these figures wore the peeled face of Martyr Moon and Star, blood running onto their necks. The first Three joined together and shot off towards the heavens, while the shadow disappeared merging with the heart, embraced by the Bladed Appendages.

 

Then Red Mountain Exploded.

 

Amongst the rubble Azura came to the husk that was Hortator and pulled out his Heart. The Heart turned void, splitting into countless faceless figures doomed to die a hundred times before a ring of tribulations. Only one sliver beared the fire hue of Prophecy, and stood atop the bodies of the splintered selves. Mother Moonshadow planted the voids in the earth as a seed, sealed with a promise of self murder. The Prince then took the shape of a Sheild-thane, with sightless eyes, and the forked tongue tied as a noose, then headed into the wastes.

 

I was awoken from the dream by the scuttles of nix hounds below the hill feeding on a fallen netch. For years I wondered this vision’s meaning, I can still remember the images more vividly than the people’s faces of my home village. Was it a glimpse of what happened Ages passed, or a message sent to me by the Mother of Prophecy, and if so why? What was its meaning? To this day as I preformed the holy rites on the shrines at our new temple on this fridged isle, I can’t help but feel uneasy around Blessed Azura’s shrine, lest I receive a new vision to disturb my nightly reflections further.