The Light and The Dark                                          Irek Unterge                                                                                                                                                       )		   :  L  	  B
    "          The Light  And  The Dark         "Yes, children, it is no accident that this land of Tamriel has been called 'The Arena'." The old man altered his position on the large rock that bore his weight, and straightened his long gray robe.  Rheumy eyes lost their focus as they gazed out over the sun-warmed valley in the mountains of High Rock. For a moment he saw a vision of ancient horrors instead of the fresh greenery of spring. A chill washed over his aged bones.   "Is this a suitable topic for the young and innocent?" he asked himself.  The young must be taught, but must they learn of such things now, when they should be playing in the sunlight?  This is a tale for the dreary winter, with the wind howling outside a walled town and the doors and windows closed and bolted against the blast and cold and -- other things.   He glanced with affection at his two grandchildren:  the little towheaded boy with a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes even on those rare occasions when sitting quietly, and his older sister.  A serene lass, the old man thought.  Her hair like a dark flame and her slightly pointed ears were the only obvious signs of elven blood.  So like her grandmother, the old man thought.  The past is past, and I'shira had brought him so much peace and happiness after a lifetime of battle. He forced his thoughts back to the present.   "Sorry, children. I was remembering things. Old people do that, you know."   "Are you going to tell us the story of Jagar Tharn and the Emperor and the Eternal Champion?"  His grandson asked.  "That's my favorite!"   "Not exactly, son.  They were a part of it, in a way.  As are I'ric and Moraelyn and Edward and Reymon and many others. Even the gods play a part.  This is a far older story, and even the priests won't tell it my way.  They have their own interpretations, and their fears as well. I'm too old and have seen too much to have any fear left, except that our people will forget. And forgetting is dangerous.  So I, and a few others, carry this tale and try to spread it among the younger generations.  You aren't really old enough to understand it all, but I can feel that my end is not far off.  I must ask you to remember anyway. In a few years, perhaps, if I still live, we can discuss it again.  If not, well, you must seek out others who know, and compare notes."   "You talk as if you are going to die, Granther," his granddaughter spoke up.  "That can't happen. You will live forever!"   Chuckling, "I'm afraid not, dear. But I have a little while left, enough for the story".   The children settled back against the bole of a large oak, knowing that the old man could not be hurried.  Leaning forward, he began:   "Long, long ago, before there were any people at all; even before the gods, Tamriel was chosen as a battleground by two -- things. It is difficult to find words that fit them well. I call them the Light and the Dark. Others use different names.  Good and Evil, Bird and Serpent, Order and Chaos.  None of these names really apply. It suffices that they are opposites, and totally antithetical.  Neither is really good or evil, as we know the words. They are immortal since they do not really live, but they do exist.  Even the gods and their daedric enemies are pale reflections of the eternal conflict between them. It's as though their struggle creates energies that distort their surroundings, and those energies are so powerful that life can appear, like an eddy in a stream."   "Do demons and trolls come from the Dark, Grandpa?"   "Not exactly, son.  The undead evils we know, and the demons that live on Oblivion tend to align with the Dark. Their natures are more akin to it.  Humans and the other peoples of Tamriel, even the misunderstood Dark Elves, are more aligned with the Light. Our evils are not always of the Dark, but some are, and these are the truly dangerous ones. Jagar Tharn was almost wholly aligned with the Dark, and that is really why he was so monstrous.  It was not because he was a black mage, as some would have it."   "Did his magic come from the Dark, Granther?"  The girl's interest was piqued by mention of magic.  Her heritage is beginning to show itself, thought the old man.   "No, magic power comes directly from the energies swirling about both entities.  These energies are impersonal and all mixed up.  Black magic is more a matter of intent than effect.  The Mages' Guild holds that a fireball, say, directed against a creature intent on causing harm, is not black magic; but the same spell directed at one seeking peace is.  In this, they are right. Destruction of a fire daedra strengthens the Light and weakens the Dark just a little.  In the same manner, destruction of a unicorn strengthens the Dark."   "What about the gods?  Do they come from the Light?"  The boy's eyes were animated, but tinged with apprehension. He adored stories of the gods and goddesses of Tamriel's pantheon, and the heroes who served them.   The old man chuckled.  "The gods have an unusual origin, if some of the oldest tales are true.  The oldest inhabitants of this world -- no one seems to be sure what race they were -- had a system of myths that they believed in for a thousand years. The people of et'Ada believed for so long and so well, that their beliefs may, just may, have drawn upon the energies surrounding Tamriel to bring the gods themselves into being. If that is so, the conflict between the Light and the Dark provided the energy, and the et'Adans the structure, that created the gods of Tamriel.  No one really knows since it was so long ago and so little survives from that time. It no longer matters; the gods have their own existence now, and mostly align with the Light, except for a few who are, shall we say, a little ambiguous."   "Why do we have to remember, Granther?  What is the danger you spoke of?  If the Light and Dark are so big and powerful, can we influence them?  Should we try? What should we fight for?"   "I see that your critical faculties are developing, Solara. That is good. The answer is simple, but quite large enough for mere mortals like us. The Light and Dark are evenly matched, and perhaps will never resolve their conflict.  Mortals and the beings of the Aetherius sometimes can perceive traces of them. Therein lies the danger; to most of us the Light is more congenial, even inspiring, and moves us to behavior that we would call good. To creatures like us, the Dark is  --  horrible. Those who have visions of it are often driven mad, and the ones who are not would be better dead. The Dark is to us a monstrous emptiness, an emptiness that sucks the soul toward it -- to be twisted, maimed, and ultimately destroyed.  What we can see of it seems utterly evil. Perhaps somewhere else this would not be so, but in our world, it is."   The old man paused to gather his thoughts, gazing once more at the fresh new life of spring.   "What we must do is never to forget that the Dark is always there, beckoning to the weak-souled among us.  Should it gain ascendancy over Tamriel, through agents perverted by its awful attraction, terrible things could happen. All that we hold beautiful or desirable, even love itself, would be swept away. Peace and hope would be no more. For Tamriel, that would be the worst possible disaster. What I saw during Jagar's reign nearly killed me, almost destroyed my mind.  When he was destroyed, I thought the worst was over, but it was not.  The forces of the Dark are on the march again, and new heroes must rise to join the Eternal Champion in the fight against them."   The old man and the two children sat in silence for several minutes.  Finally, the children assisted their grandfather to his feet, and they walked slowly away. Toward home, and hearth, and lunch.     