Flash Fiction February 2023 Day 18: Determinism And Prophacy (Valan)

 Prompt: Determinism and Prophecy 

According to ancient Dunmer tradition there is the belief that an uncertain person, born to uncertain parents, on an uncertain day, will eventually reunite the tribes and drive outlanders away and defeat Dagoth Ur. The Ashlander tribes call that person the Nerevarine, and believe that Azura will one day make good on her promise to the Tribunal that she would reincarnate the long dead warlord. That, of course, all depends on if you believe in the concept of destiny and don’t listen only to the Temple priests who label anyone who dares discuss the concept a heretic. Oddly enough, from the different people I’ve run into between the cities and out in the ashlands, there seems to be an ever building argument that I of all people could be the Nerevarine, or so the Zainab tribe says. I think things over one night as I find myself laying in bed unable to fall asleep having rented a room at the little inn on the water in the town of Vos. In theory I could have stayed at Tel Vos, but Ayron is still in the process of completing most of the non-essential structures, and last time I slept there I woke up to find a Dremora in my room, I’m better off here in the cramped little room with the uncomfortable bed.

Most prophecies have at least some grain of truth to them, don’t they? Looking down at myself I note mentally it is very clear that Azura extracted part one of her revenge originally just by observing the skin on my hands- like the rest of me, and every other Dunmer I know, it’s a greyish tone. Sitting up I look in the dirty mirror hanging on the wall, my eyes too are the common red like everyone else. My hair? That’s the big difference, you don’t see too many naturally occurring Dunmer redheads, or if you do there is a bit more of a black undertone than mine with its crimson coloring through and through. Most Dunmer just have naturally black hair, or sometimes white if they dye it or are simply older…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with brown or blonde hair, that would be interesting. Having completed my brief inspection I find myself returning to what prompted it, I’m material evidence of some sort of prophecy in action, as the Dunmer did not always look the way we did. It is a direct result of Azura and her fury with the Tribunal, she cursed the Chimer and turned their eyes to fire and skin to ash, creating the Dunmer as we are today, and vowed at that same time supposedly to send Indoril Nerevar back to Morrowind one day to right the treachery of the Tribunal and the scourge of Dagoth Ur.

As to why the Zainab seem to think I’m the one that Azura chose, I have no clue. I still don’t even completely understand how I ended up back in Morrowind in the first place. You spend twenty-two years living as a normal citizen of the empire and then one day they decide to throw you in jail. I still think Alessia had something to do with it, the lady never liked foreigners and I probably just stepped on her front lawn by accident…I’m blind, the Imperial City is a busy place, sometimes you have to walk on someone's grass for a step or two to avoid getting run over by a cart or crowd of people. Perhaps it's because there is some ashlander blood in me, or simply my appearance that makes the wise woman have her beliefs. I don’t believe in determinism, prophecies, or the concept of destiny all that much even outside of the Nerevarine business. Of course we don’t have complete free will over our lives, that’s why the Daedra enjoy meddling in mortal affairs so much, but I don’t think everything is set in stone either. That said, if the wise women are right, and I am in fact the Nerevarine, it would explain a thing or two…like the disturbing dreams I get sometimes, or the sleeper agents I encountered when I was last in Balmora, and especially that weird voice I sometimes hear very faintly in the back of my head. “Indoril Nerevar, if your spirit is stuck in my head, I am truly sorry for how many times you have probably been imaginarily face-palming since I was dropped at Seyda-Neen” I whisper to myself, knock my fist against the side of my head a few times and fall back into bed. I’m not a warlord, or any kind of warrior even, I’m a visually impaired kid from House Telvanni that likes to impulsively take shiny objects and sometimes forgets to eat, not exactly the stuff of destiny.