Last Seed 27

A new faithful came to Azin-jo today, to seek answers of our great patron Alkosh, Dragon King of Time Immemorial.

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"For how long have you served Him, Bishop?"

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This one smiled and answered him.

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"Eighty and eight years in whole."

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He was shocked, and then asked in a trembling tone just like many young cubs before him:" How? How could you survive His fierce teachings for all those times?"

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"Through pure faith and thorough devotion, child. For countless millenniums Alkosh has guided us, Khajiit of the Moons. Decades are but the tiniest sands in the hourglass to Him. There is no cruelty in those lessons, only the penance from our own sins."

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He seemed scared by this one’s words, and walked away in silence, with a desperate look on his face. They would come to understand it one day, for sure. Alkosh will purge the falseness from their doubtful hearts. From us all.

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Hearthfire 12

The annual Trial of Quin-al’kurah is near at hand. Many will join to compete to show their worthiness to the Great Dragon Cat, though only very few shall emerge as His truly faithful, to be blessed by His very words, while those who do not lie down along the Path to Ascension.

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But those failed do not die in vain. Far away in the Sands Behind the Stars they will serve Alkosh still.

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Hearthfire 21

Words are that Quin-al’kurah ended in disaster. The rate of chosen has always been low, but never that much. Among thousands of participants, only one survived it.

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They say one strong arm is better than a thousand feeble kittens, but this one fears the worst.

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Hearthfire 24

Today is the day that the Chosens shall arrive at our holy temple, to join His heavenly grace. Though in this year's case, it would be the Chosen One. This one shall attend and host the ritual of baptism for them.

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...

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It is a monster that arrives at our temple! Never in this one's years has he seen such an abominable monstrosity. A furless creature, covered under a cuirass paler than the coldest snow, and armed with a blade red as if wrought from blood. It has the height of three Senche-rahts, and the dreadfulness of a thousand more. This one’s acolytes whispered, in shiver, to him that it is a Man of the Heartland, but to his eyes, it is nothing but a bloodthirsty beast.

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The creature raises its sword and roars with volume of a hundred bellings:"I am not here to join your pitiful cult, fur-elves! Bleed under this divine blade, heretics, as revenge for my love!"

And with those words it slays all within the temple except this one. Knowing that great Alkosh awaits us in the afterworld, this one does not fear and yell with all the might left in his twilight years:" Demon, kill Azin-jo if you dare, but you shall not escape the Righteousness of His Light!"

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The creature holds back his reddened blade and scoffs:" Then I shall leave you alive, bearded elf. Witness the destruction of your false god yourself!"

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But great Alkosh would never fail. Let this be another legend of His heavenly might!

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…

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It sundered Jone apart with a single stroke of its blade in one hand, then knocked down Jode from sky with mace in the other.

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Alkosh will soon restore all. He will.

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…

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"I am Pelin-El Cyrod, mer-enemy-god! Shred your guise of AKA-Unburnt, so I may bleed this heart of colored light!"

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"You have found neither the place nor the time, pitiful man. But I shall cast you down just as the Eagle-Dragon would."

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The White Beast then throws itself at golden Alkosh, dissolving into a blinding light…

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Hearthfire 25

The reign of terror, Nahviintaas, or the Alkosh this one once believed in, was ended. A group of warriors, heroes from Rimmen killed the dragon who guised itself with golden scales and burning sunlight. The great dragon god was but a beautiful mirage.

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Eighty-eight winters weigh on this one’s back, and he fears he would not weather the next. His friends and family, all gone. His temple, now ruined by the battles against dragons, is no place near its past splendor. Even his faith, which sustains this one through all those years, is proven to be weak and false, bringing only mischief and grief to the faithful. There is nothing left for this one.

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Watching the Time-Wound crackling, this one still sees the golden shadow that loomed over him at that noon. It was so true and divine.

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Is it this one’s weak faith that makes it false? If this one could devote more, would it still shine true and righteous?

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No, no. This one must stop thinking now.