The moment I placed the Beacon into the pedestal at the foot of her towering statue, the ground shook beneath me. The sky above split apart with a blinding flare of light, forcing me to shield my eyes. It wasn't the kind of light you get from torches or the sun breaking through clouds. This one dug straight into my skin, into my bones, into every corner of my thoughts.
Before I could move, before I could even breathe, my body felt weightless. My feet left the frozen ground of Skyrim, and I was pulled upward, dragged into nothingness. The world spun until there was no world at all, only a void filled with brilliance too sharp to look at.
I thought I'd go blind. I thought I'd die.
But then… the light shifted. It wasn't endless anymore. It formed into shapes, into pillars, into an endless hall that had no walls and no ceiling. It was nowhere and everywhere at once. And in the middle of it, she appeared.
Not as a voice. Not as a blinding radiance.
A figure.
A woman with hair like threads of sunlight and eyes burning like molten gold, staring straight into me as if I were nothing more than glass. She stood draped in white cloth that shifted like it was alive, golden armor covering her shoulder and chest, gleaming brighter than any forge. She looked young and eternal at the same time, and every part of me knew she wasn't human. Not even close.
"Child of the Beacon," her voice rang out, clear and commanding. It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The sound lived inside my head, rattling through my skull. "You dare stand before me. And yet… you remain unproven."
I couldn't speak at first. My throat was tight, my chest heavy. Just looking at her made me feel like I should kneel, but I forced my legs to stay straight. Somehow, I managed to open my mouth.
"You're… Meridia."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, not of kindness but of satisfaction. "At last, you see." She raised her hand, and the hall itself seemed to bow to her movement, the pillars bending with the gesture. "It was no accident you touched my Beacon. No trick of fate. No whim of the gods. You were chosen the moment your hands dared to grasp my light."
Her eyes burned brighter, and I flinched.
"But a choice does not make a champion. Not yet. The unworthy burn away. The weak are left to rot." Her gaze sharpened like a blade. "And you… you carry the stench of another."
My heart skipped a beat.
I knew exactly who she meant. The memory of Ulfr's armor, those sickly green-yellow eyes glowing from the chestplate, came rushing back. Hermaeus Mora. I didn't dare say his name, not here, not in front of her.
Still, she could see it. She could sense it.
"Do not think me blind to the corruption that clings to your soul," Meridia said. "The tentacles of the Deceiver have brushed against you. You reek of him. Tell me, mortal—do you kneel to him? Do you serve his wretched chaos?"
"No," I forced out, shaking my head. "I don't serve him."
The way she stared at me made me feel like she already knew the truth, like she didn't need my answer. Still, after a long silence, she let it pass.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps you lie even to yourself. Either way, I will not waste eternity deciding. If you wish to bear my light, if you wish to stand as my champion, you will prove yourself worthy. Not with words. With action."
The hall around us trembled, and for a moment I thought the ground itself would split. Shadows poured in from cracks in the light, twisting like smoke. They coiled at the edges, pressing closer, like they wanted to smother everything bright.
Meridia lifted her hand, and the shadows recoiled. Her voice cut through them like steel.
"Darkness has defiled my temple. My power, my Beacon, has been chained and dirtied by the crawling filth of the undead and those who serve them. You will cleanse them. You will burn them away until nothing remains but my light. Only then shall I speak further. Only then shall you be judged worthy to know why you were brought here, why you stand in a world not your own."
Her words struck harder than a blade. She knew. She knew I wasn't of this world, and yet she gave me nothing—no answers, no mercy. Just orders.
I clenched my fists. I wanted to demand it from her, to shout, to ask why me, why any of this. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came. My throat locked up under her gaze.
Her eyes softened slightly, but her tone remained sharp. "Do not mistake this for cruelty. A blade untested will shatter in the hand. A soul unproven will break under the weight of eternity. You are no different."
I swallowed hard, my body trembling though I tried to stand firm.
"Cleanse my temple," she said again, her voice echoing in every direction at once. "Banish the corruption that dares crawl within Kilkreath. Prove that you are not prey to the darkness. Do this, and my light will embrace you. Fail, and you will be forgotten."
The brightness of her form grew unbearable, her golden eyes burning hotter until they were all I could see.
Her final words thundered in my skull as the light swallowed me whole:
"The weak are cast aside. The unworthy are forgotten. Only those who shine in my light endure."
And then everything collapsed.
I gasped awake, coughing against the cold. My body lay sprawled in the snow, the statue of Meridia looming over me, her stone face forever turned toward the heavens. The Beacon blazed at its peak, sending light cutting through the Skyrim sky, a fire no storm could smother.
My chest heaved, my breath ragged. For a moment, I couldn't move. I just lay there, staring at the Beacon's glow, the echo of her voice still vibrating in my skull.
Meridia hadn't given me answers. She hadn't given me comfort. But she had given me a path.
If I wanted to survive, if I wanted to know the truth of why I was dragged into this world, I had no choice but to follow it.
I dragged myself up onto unsteady feet, snow crunching beneath my boots. My sword felt heavier on my hip, as if it already knew what awaited inside Kilkreath.
The temple doors loomed ahead, black and silent. Somewhere within, the darkness waited.
And I had no choice but to face it.