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Taken from the sermons of Deldrise Morvayn, Fourth Tourbillon to the Mainspring Ever-Wound.
By the word, I wind the gears.
I have spoken the words in sequence, child of Seht. I have guided your eyes to the glorious Nirn-Ensuing—to the inevitable grandeur of Tamriel Final. Anuvanna'si. I have shouted my grave admonitions and whispered the secrets of the infinite curve. Now, as my engine fails, I bestow upon you my final blessing. You who sing the song of making and set your wheels to axles—you intrepid star-counters who shatter the old machines and smelt new truths from the crude and forgotten ores of the Aurbis—you must hear this ultimate lesson.
Tamriel Final shall change you in ways both grand and terrifying. Anuvanna'si. Just as molten brass cools in its mold, so too will your body take on a new and hardened shape. Just as water changes from liquid to steam, so too will the cheap preoccupations of your mind disperse and fade. Just as oil ignites and powers the engine, so too will your soul glow bright and drive the Wheels Eternal. The unity of Tamriel Final must wash away our selfish pursuits and jealous will, ash-child. Anuvanna'si. In the glorious Nirn-Ensuing, we must exorcise that grinning apparition we call "I." Only then can we know the sublime truth of the Mainspring Ever-Wound. We must walk change's road if we seek the end of disorder—and like all roads worth walking, it fills our hearts with joy and terror.
How like the et'Ada gears we are—content to live our lives in vain and sequestered sorrow, all the while oblivious to the anguished cries of our fractured souls! Look upon the lonely shore of Nirn. What do you see, with your broken eyes? One beach? One sea? Deceit and vanity! The Named illusion! For what is a "beach" if not a desperate agglomeration of isolated grains? What is a "sea" if not a churning mass of solitary tears? Separate! Broken! Arrogant and futile!
Even after meditating upon these sermons, there are some among you who cling to the Nirn-Prior. You fear the loss of your thin and impoverished "self." You must cast aside these childish fears! What good is a "self" if it burns away at the threshold of what waits beyond time? Do you not see that the Father of Mysteries seeks to usher our world through the End? To protect us from the lies-made-flesh who seek to destroy us? If you remember only one thing, let it be this: our blessed Clockwork God loves you with a fierce and awesome heart. What he does, he does for you and for all who would follow his divine example.
Lasting joy. The peace of unity. The sublime satisfaction of perfect rhythm; these are the product of our honest labors—the spokes of our blessed wheel that spins eternal. The Mainspring Ever-Wound offers perfection, child of Seht. You have but to gaze within. Stoke your coals. Add fresh water to your boilers. Tighten your bolts, and believe. Tamriel Final awaits. Anuvanna'si.
By the word, I wind the gears.