alnahn’alna’amurokam
Volume Eleven
¹By the word, I wind the gears.
hear your whispers—your puerile laments.
³Even here in the Clockwork City, bathed in the oil of His divine wisdom, you cry out, “Where are the soft grasses and babbling creeks?
⁴Where are the heady wines and rich fruits? Where are the gentle rains, and sighing boughs, and swaying mushrooms?”
⁵Like hungry babes you weep, “Where is the Real?”
⁶Ease your bellows and steady your gears. You must gaze now upon the brass-wrought truth.
⁷See the Real of Tamriel Final. Anuvanna’si.
⁸What makes a thing real? Is it the blood, or the sap, or the beating heart? ⁹Is it the shrieking trauma of an infant’s birth? The low roar of the tides? ¹⁰The root’s thirst for water or the lazy drift of distant clouds? ¹¹No, child of Seht! Hear the words in sequence! Can you not see that your fears spring from Lorkhan’s lie? ¹²Those soft forms and gentle comforts you covet are naught but corroded lies—fractured creation’s panacea that deadens the soul’s forgotten pain.
¹³“But is Sotha Sil’s sacred city not a replication?” you ask, “A Nirn in miniature?” ¹⁴Hear this, ash-child: the Clockwork City is no mere simulacrum. ¹⁵The copper leaves and sculpted hills are not Nirn’s resemblance, but Nirn’s refinement— ¹⁶worldly forms made whole by the steady hand of the Mainspring Ever-Wound. The glorious unity of Tamriel Final demands convergence. Anuvanna’si. ¹⁷Mer and machine made whole. Nature and engineering made whole. The past and the future made whole. ¹⁸In time, all of Nirn shall be pressed and fired in this forge of Seht’s blessed imaginings—weighed and measured upon the Nameless Scales! ¹⁹Is this not the Real? Is this not the redemption of the et’Ada’s sins? ²⁰Do you see now the impoverished forms of the Nirn-Prior? The cheap and hollow falsehoods that masquerade as nature’s splendor?
²¹Seek out the dry, hard places, child of Seht. Anoint your tongue with His oil. Fill your stomach with His nourishing grain. ²²Cast out what was and fix your eyes upon the Nirn-to-come—upon Tamriel Final. Anuvanna’si.
²³By the word, I wind the gears.