» Sun Oct 28, 2012 12:32 pm The Tyranny of The Voice.
Trees, rivers, and mountains rushed past as I flew in low, chasing my prey. The poor creature hopped and bounded away as fast as it could, jumping from land, to rocks, and dodging between the trees.
Not to be outdone by such a petty creature, I beat my wings and flew around the trees, to a clearing of grass. The deer, had predictably come straight into my path, and I reached out, jaws awaiting the perfect moment. The deer tried to circle back around, but there was no escape. I clenched down with my teeth, and tasted the glory of my Krii, my kill.
While I enjoyed the fruits of my labor, the juices flowing from the meat, it had reminded my of the taste of manflesh, of the many warriors who had met their end just as the deer had.
Never again were the Dov, the dragons, to eat of the peoples of Tamriel. After First-Born Alduin was defeated, Elder-Brother Paarthunax had gathered what remained of the Dov at the tip of the world. It was there he decreed no more hunting the people of this world, to live at peace. To exist as he had, meditating on Words of Power, teaching, and remaining peaceful.
Not all Dov, took to these measures lightly, the Dukaan, the Dishonored, were the few rebellious Dov who remained violent killers. They attacked settlements and left their bloody marks on the world. But soon enough, their lives were cut short, as men hunted them with sword and spear, or great magics they wielded.
I had stayed away from settlements, resisting my urges of violence. I made my home on top of a large rock that jutted out from a mountain. Doing as Paarthunax instructed, I thought on such concepts like Mahfaeraak, Forever.
I returned to enjoying my meal. Losing myself in thought was becoming too easy. Memories and meditating had replaced the glorious hunting and battles in my daily activities.
Leaving the remainder of the deer carcass for the scavengers, I returned to the sky, wings producing a satisfying whoomph with every beat. I flew around the clouds, enjoying the sky was one of the few joys left in this world. Looking down at the ground, I saw the beauty of that Kaan, Kyne, had given this world: Beautiful plants and trees, alongside deep azure blue rivers and ponds.
Then trees started being replace by small circular stumps, and plants became more and more sparse. The water in the rivers being dammed and run through large wheels. A large wooden border surrounded a group of buildings ahead, and all became clear.
Men were destroying the beauty here. Twisting the land’s resources for their own use. The Yol, the fire, of my belly was enraged.
Horns sounded, men scurried to positions, and townsfolk dissipated. Even, from up high, I could hear weapons being drawn, bows strung, and ballistae loaded. Every part of my being wanted to land amongst them, and engage them in glorious battle.
A second passed.
They remained vigilant.
And I flew right over them.
I resigned to returning home, my body shook from the adrenaline rush of being so close to combat. As I returned home I couldn’t help but think of how unexciting being a pacifist was. After all, what does being a Dov mean if all we do is sit and think? It goes against the nature of things.
Such is the Way of The Voice.
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