galvarelli/yakob-on-the-rock.txt

In the days when the Rock was still called the Royal Mountain, before the name slipped out of the Hidden Lands into the Land of Men, before the Temple was built, Emperor Yakob wished to conquer the mortal worlds.
The ancient division had begun to weaken, and the constant strife between Bird, Beast and Dwarrow led to death and pain.
And the peace that Yakob had brought to the Lands of Beasts was enticing to those who lacked it, such that even among the Dwarrowfolk some called for his aid.
Yakob heard these pleas, and thought that, though conquest was terrible, the order it brought could lead to a greater prosperity.

His army gathered behind him as he announced his campaign, beginning with uniting the Dwarrowlands with his own.
Such an army stands unique in history, and none before or since shall ever compare.
An army of Beasts, with horns so sharp that the Air was wounded as they ran, with stone hooves so strong that the Earth itself began to crack, with resolve so pure that the Endless Stars began to dim.

The Air came to Yakob and begged for relief, and Yakob sought forgiveness.
―O Air, giver of the vital spirit!
	Our Horns are blessed by the Lord from whom life stems.
	You are the Lord's most merciful Servant, and we his meanest subjects.
	The Power you bestow upon us I return to you now.
	Let no knife ever cut you again, let your wind flow around anything that would harm it!
Thus did Yakob regain the Air's favour.

The Earth came to Yakob and begged for relief, and Yakob sought forgiveness.
―O Earth, giver of the grasses and life!
	Our Hooves are blessed by the Lord who gives us food.
	You are the Lord's most compassionate Servant, and we his meanest subjects.
	The Power you bestow upon us I return to you now.
	Let no stone harm you again, for even as you crack and weather, your soil grows more fertile!
Thus did Yakob regain the Earth's favour.

The Endless Stars came to Yakob and begged for relief, and Yakob sought forgiveness.
―O Endless Stars, givers of hope!
	Our Resolve is blessed by the Lord who knows no bound or limitation.
	You are the Lord's most wise Servant, and we his meanest subjects.
	I cannot return the Power you bestow upon us to you now, for no mortal power may affect you.
	I submit myself to your power, for your Judgement is infinitely fair.

And the Endless Stars spoke back.
―Emperor Yakob, our light dims near yours.
	We see through your light, though, for it merely reflects the Light of the Lord Everlasting, and all things dim in the Lord's Glory.
	But Yakob, take care.
	You tremble still at shadows, thinking your strength can destroy them.
	Only in the Light will they be eradicated, so you must direct it.
Thus did the Endless Stars reassure Yakob and gently correct him.

Then, his army began their march, and the Air and Earth sang Yakob's praises.
His soldiers echoed their chants, and began to sing poems of his glory and victory.
And Emperor Yakob corrected them, for glory and victory come only from the Lord, and can be owned by no mortal.
So they began to sing only of his compassion and grace.

The power of Yakob's army was terrible and even those few Dwarrowfolk who wished to resist surrendered on seeing the might of their invaders.
For when Yakob's army grew thirsty, they summoned rains to wash away their sins.
When they grew hungry, they cultivate great grazing grounds to nourish their souls.
And when they reached mountains that blocked their path, with a single glance Yakob himself would move them with a glance, easing their march.
They reached the Royal Mountain, birthplace of the yaks, leaving towns celebrating their rule in their wake.

Here, deeper in dwarrow land, more people feared Yakob's army, and many hid deeper in the mountains, eventually founding Mountberg, leaving the rest to populate the Border between Dwarrow and Beast.
But at the Royal Mountain itself, the army was welcomed gladly.
One dwarrow bowed before Yakob, offering a circlet of finest truesilver, with fine strands that wound themselves through his hair, lighter than straw yet with yet capable of blocking all mortal weapons.
Yakob asked her what reward she wished for such a princely gift, and she implored him to make the pilgrimage to the Summit, to honour the custom of the Dwarrow Kings.

Yakob himself wished to supplicate blessings from the Lord of the Mountain, and led his army to the climb.
As they passed the shrine, entering the holy ground, Yakob's army began to lose heart.
Some grew angry that they were no longer gaining territory, distracted by this pilgrimage, and refused to continue.
Some grew fearful that their sins would doom them at the day of Judgement, and lost themselves in terror, and eventually insanity.
And still others knew that here the Sun was at its most dangerous, that the Air itself would weaken and the Earth grew sterner, and balked.

Such trepidation was well-founded, for indeed as they climbed some yaks found themselves dying of thirst, others of hunger or exposure.
And more and more, each death demoralised the living, and sent more scurrying down the mountain searching for comfort.
At last, near the top, only Emperor Yakob remained on the quest.
With the Summit in view, a mountain goat appeared before him.

―What do you seek? she asked him.

―I seek to view the Lord of the Mountain bare, Elder.
	To pay my respects and feel myself clothed by the Glory of Glories.

―Emperor Yakob, your task is pure, and your heart is filled with compassion.
	Indeed you have polished the mirror of your soul smooth, such that you faithfully reflect Virtue as it flows from the Lord to mortals.
	But Yakob, your mirror has yet its flaws, shadows still cover the future from you.

―Elder, I know these shadows must exist, for only the Lord can exist without blemish.
	But I do not recognise them yet.
	Even still, why should the Path be barred to me when so many others have made it?

―Indeed, many have made it to the Summit, and none as virtuous as you.
	But your virtue itself hides your flaws.
	You have made your goal the salvation of all the mortal worlds.
	Lesser beings, with meeker goals, surrender in the face of even minor obstacles.
	You, however, reflect the Will and Perseverance of the Almighty.
	Until you found your goal realised, you would strive, with all your power.

―I confess, O Wise One, that I do not see the flaw in this.
	My goals are just, as far as I understand, and I will pursue them with all of my spirit, for anything less would betray those who I must protect.

―Yakob, virtuous goals do not suffice!
	Only the Lord, from whom all events flow and from whom all time is reckoned, can truly know what will be written in the books of fate.
	To give you a view from the Summit, to let you see what will and will not be...
	If you were given such a thing, your power would be closer to the Lord's power than any mortal could have, and mortal Wisdom will never suffice to use such power prudently.
	You cling to virtue like a shield.
	If you would truly seek the light of the Lord's Glory, you must abandon it.
	Let your wife go, your children, all your family.
	You use your power to shape the world to yourself, yet you have not tried to shape yourself to the world!
	Embrace difficulties, loss.
	Let yourself be weakened by anger, be struck down with thirst, be burdened with the vilest curses.
	Let go of every tie that stops you from truly embracing the Glory of the Lord.
	And then, when you have let go of your strength, let go of your self until there is no one left to let anything go, you will find the Love of the Lord.

And Yakob, thus humbled, abandoned his ambition to save all of the mortal lands.
He returned to the village at the base of the Mountain, and abdicated his post, dissolving the Yak Empire.
A new Compact was made, for peace between yaks and dwarrowfolk.
His Helm was returned to the yaks as a symbol of the friendship, and Yakob, as his last act with the Meadowlark, breathed into the dirt and it became the Trust as a symbol for the dwarrowfolk in turn.
The soil of the Trust would survive forever, growing wood that responded like stone to dwarrow artisans, and would burn with a pure light, without smoke or ash.
Thus did Emperor Yakob find a Path to a higher Meadowlark, one beyond virtue, one incorruptible.