Choice's Burden Options

[Callidus Thorn]

Recently, I had an idea. An idea to explain away a character coming back to life after dying, since I've stopped playing DiD. The idea isn't particularly lore-friendly, though I've bodged so that it looks like it fits as long as you don't look too closely. That idea was soon accompanied by a voice, of sorts, and I'm afraid you'll have to forgive him for not introducing himself right away.

One of the perils of playing/writing an Altmer character, there tends to be a lot of ego to deal with.



A dusty book, sitting on a shelf in the library of the College of Winterhold.

A book, so very out of place.

The binding is rough, the spine crooked, and when removed from the shelf, the pages can be seen to be of cheap paper that hasn’t even been cut properly.

On the first page, written in a cramped, untidy hand, is The Foreword.


There is only one question: Why have I written this?

There is only one answer.


The Scales of Akatosh. An order within an order, and yet, not. A part of the Akatosh Chantry, but devoid of the worship. Their mandate is simple; to prevent Dragon Breaks from occurring. Their methodology is similarly brief, at least to write: Simplify, and resolve. Their means: Whatever they choose. Scales have been priests, merchants, warriors, Arch-mages, scholars, even thieves and assassins. To them, the ends are such that they justify the means, at least to a degree. Excesses are frowned upon, but if a handful of corpses will simplify and resolve the issue, then no objections are raised if that decision is made.

Training begins as a child. Education first, with a focus on history. The children are also encouraged to explore their own innate talents, pursue what interests they may have that could be used, and to study independently. From these training begins, following the path of least resistance in the student. They have learnt, over the centuries, that it is best no to force a method on a student. Let them follow their own path and interests, and they’re a more effective agent for it. But there is one lesson taught above all else. Drilled into them time and again, in the most vivid and graphic ways possible. The dangers of a Dragon Break.

They are taught that as the Dragon of Time, the chief of the Nine Divines, any situation that could challenge Akatosh’s control of time is a threat to Nirn itself. The prime example they cite is the Warp in the West. The education, and indoctrination, it must be said, last for years. Then the students are given more specialised training, in whatever talents they’ve developed.

There are two remarkable facts about the Scales of Akatosh. The first is that, despite being a product of the Akatosh Chantry, its members are free to believe what they will, worship who they will, provided it does not conflict with their duty. The second fact?

The second fact is that they do not die.

The training culminates in a ceremony, where the initiates swear an oath to Akatosh, in a temple dedicated to him, to act always to prevent Dragon Breaks. That is the first part of the ceremony, the easy, lighter part. Following that is the Test.

The initiate is blindfolded, and led into a silenced room. Unable to see or hear, they stand in the darkness, not knowing what is to come. By now you will no doubt have guessed that I was once in such a position, standing alone in the darkness, waiting, so I will tell you what happened next, as I experienced it.

One moment, perfect emptiness, no sight, no sound. Then came the touch of a freezing cold blade as it pierced my belly, just above my hip, followed a moment later by burning agony as it carved a path across. The pain was so all-encompassing that I swear to this day that I could see it: a brilliant, crimson flash across my eyelids, of blinding brightness and intensity. Before I could even realise what had occurred, a blunt weapon slammed into my left shin, breaking the bones. I cried out as I fell, though not even I could hear it in that room, and more blows followed. Blunt weapons slammed down on my limbs, my chest, my stomach, breaking bones and bursting blood vessels. But not one blow struck my head. I screamed in silence. I wept like a child, and soiled myself. I do not know how long the beating lasted, but I recall its ending: The cool edge of the knife at my throat, whisper-sharp, the flesh parting beneath it without effort, without pain.

The oath taken binds us, in a way, to Akatosh.

For as long as we have the will to do so, when we die, we are returned to life. Our minds are sent back, far enough to avoid our death, but we remember everything we experienced, exactly as we experienced it. Even after we die, even after our minds are pushed back through time. It’s the only way we can keep from repeating ourselves. That’s why the final test is so important. Because in that moment between death and life, when we’re faced with the choice; to die, or to go back, carrying the vivid memory of our death, that’s when we need a strength of will that cannot be taught or trained. In that moment we either break beneath the weight of our death, or choose to carry it with us, and return to life. So our first death is a slow and painful death, to see if we have the will, not as a result of our training, our education, or our oath. But because we possess that vital spark within us that will bring us back to life. Few survive this test.

Those that do? They refuse to even enter the room.

And what follows? An apprenticeship, to a more experienced Scale with similar talents. After a few years we are sent out on our own, to a life of duty, bound to prevent a situation we cannot understand, with no way of knowing if our efforts have even had any effect. But perhaps if one of us had been present at the time of the Warp in the West, it could have been prevented.

Simplify, and resolve. Words we die by, and words we live by.

So then, the question: Why have I written this?

As I said, there is only one answer, one reason.

The only reason I’ve ever needed.

The only reason I’ve ever had.

Because I choose to.

[Acadian]

A fascinating premise to deal with death in TES. Well-thought out and makes sense. I like that you have liberally infused it with a blend of both darkness and light. Nice!