Canticles of the Eight

Though all before me is shadow…
Yet the Eight shall be my guide.
I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.
For there is no darkness in the Eight’s Light,
and nothing that they have wrought shall be torn asunder.

—Canticles of the Eight, 1:1

Prayer of the Bastion

Only he who has lived in darkness, truly knows the value of Light.

Children of Nirn, Mer and Man, how might I bring you to that Light?

Tell me the word that will win you, and I will speak it.

I Will speak the brightness of flame to light your way;

I Will speak the stars of Aetherius into a crown for your head;

I Will speak the flowers of the field into your raiment;

I Will speak the racing stream into a melody to lure you, and the voices of a thousand larks to sing it;

I Will speak the softness of night for your cover, and the warmth of summer for your safety;

I Will speak until the hardness in you melts away and your hearts are free.

—Canticles of the Eight, 1:4

May the Eight protect us together

May the Eight protect us together.

May they nourish us together.

May we work together,

uniting our strength to prepare for the Era to Come.

May our learning be luminous and purposeful.

May our swords fall with mercy and justice.

May we never hate one another.

May there be peace, light and love between us,

until our timeless victory is won.

—Canticles of the Eight, 3:1–5

The source of our delight in prayer

From the hymn of an eastern sage whose name has been lost.

The source of our delight in prayer

is the Divines’ Love which without compare

draws the soul to its eternal abode,

on a morning breeze from Eight hidden worlds.

Through Love the queen became a slave,

the wheel a tower, the knight a knave.

All that was bitter became sweetening,

and the pain we felt is now medicine.

This Love is beyond the study of theology,

that old trickery and hypocrisy.

If you want to reach the Eight that way,

sleep on! Love is our only astrolabe.

When the pen came to the subject of Love, it broke.

When the discourse turned to Love, it choked.

Just be quiet, lie down as only lovers can,

wrapped in nothing but the Ninth and final Command:

Wherever you are, whatever you do, be in Love.

—Canticles of the Eight, 9:30–34

When you look for the Eight

When you look for the Eight,

the Eight are in the look of your eye,

in the thrill of your seeking hands,

nearer to you than the vein in your neck.

There’s no need to go outside,

no need to spend your breath on words.

You’d need a mouth as wide as the sky

and a language as large as longing.

A white flower grows in the quietest place.

Let your tongue become that flower.

—Canticles of the Eight, 13:1–5

Eighty-Eight Syllable Mantra

To be repeated as an aid in meditation.

Blessed Eight, dwell in what You made.

Stendarr, be resilience for me.

Arkay, be vigilance for me.

Mara, be nourishment for me.

Zenithar, be effort for me.

Kynareth, be clear skies for me.

Dibella, be passion for me.

Julianos, be thought for me.

Akatosh, be virtue for me.

Blessed Eight, grant me grace and strength.

Let me understand Your Glories.

—Canticles of the Eight, 5:12

The path into the light seems dark

The path into the light seems dark,

the way forward feels like retreat,

true power seems weak,

true purity looks tarnished,

true steadfastness seems to bend,

true clarity sounds bewildered,

the greatest love seems indifferent,

the greatest wisdom seems foolish.

The Divine Eight are nowhere to be found,

yet They begin and nourish all things.

—Canticles of the Eight, 13:17–21

In those ancient days

In those days, those ancient days,

in those nights, those ancient nights,

in those years, those ancient years,

after The High had been moved away from what is Below,

after The Below had been separated from what is High,

after Akatosh had carried off The High,

after Arkay had carried off The Below,

I wish I had celebrated your names.

O Divines whom El-Estia has named!

You make the speckled barley grow in the fields.

You fill the pool with carp and perch.

You make the reeds and rushes grow in the cane-fields.

You fill the forest with wild grazers.

You make tamarisks bloom in the steppes.

You garnish gardens and vineyards with honey and wine.

May you grant this place a longer life.

—Canticles of the Eight, 4:1–8

Prayer to Saint Alessia