Prologue

3E 427, Second Day of Last Seed

“Nym, we must head to the Temple” Kathos ordered. “Master Xenias wishes for audience with you and we both know its best not to keep a Master of the Temple waiting.” When I turned around he stood there with his black lips twisted into a smile.

I pulled down a long-sleeved shirt void of color and a slid my feet into ebon-colored shoes. Over my shirt, I pulled a black jacket. “How do I look Kathos?” I asked with a tinge of sarcasm.
He sardonically replied with a chuckle, “Like the back of a kwama warrior.” I knew he was kidding, because Kathos and I were best friends. He was a Dremora who was a close friend of the family, and always would be.

He tossed me a large, cooked kwama egg that still had its shell and stated, “Eat it as we walk.” Obediently, I cracked the shell and slurped up the yolk of the egg. The sweet taste tickled my tongue.
I tossed the shell away and Kathos sighed as he walked over to pick it up, “Like a child, aren’t you?”
“No you’re just over-stressed, because I threw an empty kwama egg over my shoulder,” I shrugged. “It’s not like it matters, I’m sure the Argonian will enjoy it.”
“N’wah,” He replied in Daedric, a language he knew I couldn’t speak.

We reached the Temple. Outside was a pilgrim on her knees, praying, “Vehk, teach me humility, daringness, generosity, courtesy, justice, valor, and pride. Please Vehk, teach me.” The Dunmer stood up and walked away.
As Kathos opened the doors, a youthful Dunmer stood there. He was an adolescent dressed in green sack-cloth robes with a leather satchel. “Nym?” the Layman questioned.
“The one and only,” I replied. Kathos shook his head and scowled at me. To him, the Tribunal wasn’t only a faith, but his entire way of life.

The youth led me through the Temple and up the stairs. Master Xenias sat there, meditating. Master Xenias had medium-length silver hair that reached to his shoulder blades and a well-groomed goatee. He opened his pupil-less, blind scarlet eyes and warmly said, “Greetings, Kathos and Nym, do you know why you’ve been summoned?”
“My assumption is because you’re requiring us,” I responded almost instantaneously. “What does the Temple ask of us, Master Xenias?”

Kathos put his plate-covered hand over my mouth and apologized, “My most sincere apologies, Master Xenias, Nym is young and foolish. What is it that the Temple asks of us?”

He pulled out of his violet-and-gold robes a scroll which he handed to me. I opened it up only to find it was written in Daedric,


“Dearest Followers,

In a time of such madness, when the Ashlanders are stirring, our priests speak of the reincarnation of Lord Indoril Nerevar, and the Blight; Vvardenfell becomes more dangerous with each passing day.

My heart is heavy to know what must be done. The ashen wastes beckon for me to return, from the ashes I rose, to the ashes I will go. Resdayn shall never be the same as it was before the Imperials came, but I must return to my roots.

I shall leave with nothing, but the clothes on my back. I have but one final request. My request is that you go to Arkngthand to the north, rumor has it that an artifact of the Temple lies there.

Sincerely,

Master Xenias Hlaalu”

I shrugged as I handed it to Kathos. “What does it mean?” I asked.
“Master Xenias, you should not leave this place,” the Dremora stated. “You’re a mentor and friend to many here.”

“Perhaps,” he sighed. “But my fate is in the ashes. Please, go to Arkngthand and retrieve what lies there. I have heard rumor that in the Dwemer ruins awaits the Sword of Nerevar, Trueflame.

“Kath—,” I tried to get out, but he hushed me before I could finish.
“Master Xenias, consider it done,” Kathos said as he bowed deeply. He turned around and started walking out. I followed him closely.

As we walked outside, I saw the sun’s glare. “Kathos, what did that note say?”

He grumbled, “Nothing that would concern you, but we have to go to Arkngthand.”

“Arkngthand; you have to that old Dwemer Ruin?” I asked. “Isn’t that place still protected by the ancient constructs of the Dwemer?”

“You’re coming with me,” the Dremora demanded. “I trained you in the way of sword-play and magic. You shall fight with me, side-by-side just as your father and I did so many years ago.”
“I’ve been trained; I’m not a skilled fighter like you, Kathos.”
“Then stay here like the sniveling N’wah you are. Your father would roll over in his grave if he saw what a pathetic S’wit you are. He used to take pride in the fact that he thought his son was going to become a Crusader like he was.”

“Let’s go, Kathos.”
When we returned to my home on the Eastern side of Balmora, I donned my steel plate-mail for the first time in what felt like years. The long-sword that matched my armor felt at home in my hands. Like old friends being reunited.

We exited and people stared at us. Kathos was already revered for his dedication to the Temple and his prowess. However, this was the first time anyone had ever seen me in anything heavier than clothing. The armor was burdening, but I wouldn’t complain.
As we walked, even the guards watched us with curiosity.
When we walked outside the city walls to the wilderness, I felt an almost animalistic pride to know that I was finally going to be a champion like my father. However, it was bitter-sweet to know that my old life of luxury was dead…

OOOH !!! This is a hugely promising beginning, Zalphon !!

You're certainlly flourishing! This chapter is longer, full of descriptions and keeps the reader intrigued for more,

Well done, Z

Good to see you with a new story!

'When we walked outside the city walls to the wilderness, I felt an almost animalistic pride to know that I was finally going to be a champion like my father.'
This was VERY effective!

Great start here. It has been so long since I played Morrowind that it took me a moment to remember what Arkngthand was.

I'm looking forward to reading more...

Zalphon, I'll be reading this story!! I have never played Morrowind, so everything you describe will be new to me!