Sermon 30

The Seven Pennants were scattered, but Betrayal remained. Veloth burnt, and Betrayal cut a swathe through the smoke towards Ayem's High Fane, intent on desecration.

He climbed the 333 stairs, pausing to spit at each scripture-mosaic. Nerevar, ALMSIVI's champion, met Betrayal at the Fane's apex.

"I have been waiting for you," he said.

And Betrayal laughed. "You are God's dog."

And Nerevar bowed. "I am rightly judged."

Betrayal drew his sword, edge red-hot with regret. "Greet your negation."

Nerevar struck, but his blade could not cleave Betrayal, armoured in the burnt husks of wicked souls. Betrayal's laugher was bone-biting.

"I am more than you, servant of falsehood."

At these words, fire sprang up in Nerevar. He worshipped at the altar of truth, and Betrayal sought to mislead him. And Nerevar-named-Hortator, whose belly nurtured the mind-seed of Molag Bal and the Devil-Tiger, who'd kissed Chaos-as-Wisdom, raised his sword. It blazed a million space-born colours, and Betrayal did hiss, hiding his eyes.

"How came you by this secret?" Betrayal asked.

And Nerevar answered with a glimmering slash.

Betrayal's armour became as black vapour, his skin split. From the wound spilt bile so bitter it devoured matter.

And Betrayal laughed. "I am mother to hatred. My spawn shall breed in your bones."

Their swords kissed, and yet Nerevar was shaken. Betrayal's blood consumed his blade, and soon he would be weaponless.

"Your fear is pleasant," said Betrayal. "It perfumes you well."

And at this Nerevar paused. His fear sprang from death's nearness. But he, husband to destruction, knew fear to be a caul. It was religion's blunt dagger, putting out the eyes of truth. He remembered the lessons of Ayem, and strove to know God through terror.

"Put up your sword," said Betrayal. "You are not yet undone."

And Nerevar-named-Hortator cast down his blade. He pulled Betrayal into an embrace, pressing against the abyss-wound.

Betrayal writhed and cursed, titling Nerevar a fool and worse. And the blood washed over him, anointing his face, his chest, his thighs. Flesh bubbled, burst, sloughed off. The weeping redness was a crucible, burning free the dross of delusion. Nerevar's skin turned a truer gold, and he kissed Betrayal in thanks.

"You are mad," said Betrayal.

And they laughed together, voices blending into an oblivion hymn. Nerevar sucked nectar from Betrayal's mouth, and this holy ichor seeped through him, diluting his blood, dissolving his heart. He was hollowed, and yet filled. His innards crystalized, becoming eternal, perfect.

Nerevar released Betrayal, and his empty armour fell clattering to the floor.

And Ayem, who sees all, appeared beside Nerevar.

"You have attained a real body," she said.

And Nerevar became glass; the light-pulse of his heart grew bright as the sun.

There was a great rumbling then, and the High Fane's roof was torn off. Thus did Mehrunes Dagon, Lord of Razors, make himself known.

"You have read my legions," he said. "But that was merely the prelude. Now do I perform."

And Ayem held Kalabhaksa aloft. "I am the end."

"Not yet," said Mehrunes Dagon. "Your city I shall crush to dust. I shall dance it into rubble and ruin."

And Nerevar said, "You cannot accomplish such."

"I shape the world to my will, all must obey. I am law's fortress, which neither tide nor time can efface."

And Ayem bowed, acknowledging Mehrunes Dagon as King of the Temporal.

"But spirit outlasts flesh," she said. "And there do I wait."

Mehrunes Dagon's thunder-laughter shook the heavens. "Then watch as I send your children to meet you."

And he strode away, flattening palaces.

Nerevar said, "Mistress, this sacrilege cannot stand."

Ayem replied, "God's body is beyond mortification."

But Nerevar, who still possessed a grain of illusion, said, "I will stop him."

And Ayem said nothing.

Thus did Nerevar rush to confront Mehrunes Dagon. He discovered him eating the foundations of the Temple of False Thinking.

"I am ALMSIVI's champion!" he cried. "What is your rebuttal?"

And Dagon displayed his armaments, sinews slithering like snakes in oil. Nerevar was diminished before this magnificence, and his sword wavered, yet he held firm.

"You cannot conquer me, for I am conquest."

With this statement did the debate begin.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.