Sermon 18
For this was the dawn of Resdaynia, when Chimer and Dwemer lived under the wise and benevolent rule of ALMSIVI and Her champion, the Hortator. And Ayem would ever guide the Hortator, closer to him than his jugular vein. This is the second of the three lessons of ruling kings.
"You must learn to mock God. Love is not given to anger. If stepping upon my image will save you, do it. Yes, a thousand times yes. Grind me into the dust and dirt; I am made of stronger stuff than pride. If you meet me upon the road, take my cloak, take my flesh, kill me. Do not fill idols of stone and wood with wealth. You will not find me there.
"I shall meet you, again and again. You need not fear. A man, a woman, this skin matters not. I judge you upon the scales of sacrilege. Burn down the shrine, burn down the greatest temple. And if they ask why, say it was to be remembered, and for this alone. For the symbol is power. The Sharmat knows this, and he has named the centre. There he dances, dances, dances, becoming more in whirling along the spiral. This is the true path.
"Cling to nothing, not even me. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Why forsake the House of Troubles, is it not another guilt-demon born of fearful minds? You misdiagnose me. The House of Troubles is a pyramid masquerading as a square. It is not what you think. The Four Corners lead to the Apex, the Beginning Place, the pinnacle and Tower. You chant their names, BAL DAGON MALAC SHEOG. They are but spectres, Gatekeepers of the walking-way. This is another spiral, an inverse one, fuelled by bitter disbelief. Follow it if you desire, but prepare for pleasure. The Tower is the death of Mystery, and its Gatekeepers protect you from this foul murder. Pity the House of Troubles, for they suffer by belief.
"The Triune way is another spiral, the reverse. Seht is the Creator, Vehk the Preserver, and I AM. Now my words are a flaming sword and many-pointed stars. They lay upon my brow and mark my kingship. Do not slink from me. I offer no judgement; this is the tragedy of man. No, in me you shall discover a taxonomy of love, the anatomy of faith. Which is brother-sister to hope, and all are beholden to love. Draw your blade now, beloved. Strike me down; exult in the spurt of my blood, the snap of my bones. Feast on me if you wish. Yes, yes, yes a thousand times yes. I have ordained a path for you; all others are no-paths. Walk like Me, and I shall Walk like you.
"For let this be your Photosis, your light-filling. Replace the emptiness with Me, and you shall rule as king unvanquished. Does this thought please you? Do not reply yet; live a moment longer, or many times. I shall be waiting for your answer at the next kalpa, when possibility stands upon a single leg, straining to carry the burden of being. Turn away from me, and I shall smile. Come, again and again, a thousand, thousand times. I am the death of shame."
These are Ayem's words to the Hortator, writ in the passing of her presence.
The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.