Mere months ago, we were the subject of ridicule to those scant few who even recognized the name "Star-Gazer." The barely concealed chuckles and eye-rolls of the inhabitants of Belkarth still sting. But, oh, now they flock to us, scholars and mages alike, seeking the notes and wisdom we have amassed on the topic of the stars. I should be pleased, should be eager to share our studies and invite new perspectives, but I find it hard to set aside the bitterness and scorn the years of derision have incised into my heart.
I am one of the most experienced members of our order now. I have visited the great observatory in Stros M'Kai. I have charted the movements of the constellations every night without fail. I have seen our mighty Guardians fall from the sky—and still I live, when many of my colleagues do not. Now that we have gained some degree of legitimacy within the scholarly establishment, now that I am High Astrologer, I should be at the forefront of our efforts to educate.
But instead, I find myself more and more withdrawn. I spend my days and nights within our archive, deep in study. If the very stars can fall from the skies and manifest physically on Nirn, much of what we once theorized about the nature of the stars—and, yes, even of the Mundus itself—is wrong, or at least far more incomplete than we could have guessed. And if it can happen once, what is stopping it from happening again? What keeps the Serpent from eclipsing every star in the sky, severing us from Aetherius? While the others seek mundane recognition and status, I find my soul drawn to the sky as ever, still vigilant against the dangers that prowl the emptiness.
I must admit: there is something else. If the constellations can be realized in physical form, are our assumptions about their impact on the mortals of Nirn as shallow as I suspect? Perhaps each individual is influenced in some way by the ascendant sign during their birth, but does it work the other way around? Can one, with the right understanding and rituals, draw power from constellations that goes beyond normal magic? And what impact might this have on the Aetherial plane?
In my sleepless nights spent hunched over our rarest tomes (a perk of being High Astrologer), I have uncovered references, again and again, to an ancient Dwemer text, "Harmonic Astronymics." It may have the answers to my questions—or, more likely, it may lead me to ask better-informed questions. We know the Dwemer had a greater understanding of the Mundus than we do even now, and I cannot help but wonder if they could harness the power of the constellations in ways we cannot even imagine. If a copy of this text still exists, I must find it. But where to start—and how to leave my fellow Star-Gazers in this tumultuous time?