Nerevarine Rising - Book I: Nerevarine Rising

by actualbastila

Ulina Therayn was a young Dunmer girl living in the Imperial City, with her family. But one night changes all that, and she is sent to the East. To Morrowind. There, she finds out she's part of something bigger, and she needs to put a stop to the Blight that is slowly overtaking Morrowind, and soon all of Tamriel. Julan Kaushibael spoilers. *COMPLETE**edited as of 11/15/2018*

1. Prologue

A/N: This story has been modified from it's original version. Entire story has been edited as of 11/15/2018.

Disclaimer for the entire story:
- Morrowind and The Elder Scrolls belongs to Bethesda Game Studios
- Julan Kaushibael, and any characters associated with his storyline/mod belong to the wonderful Kateri. I would provide a download link, but FFN is ridiculous. I provided it on my AO3, however, where you can read a mirror of this and my other stories.

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Prologue

23rd of Rain's Hand, 4E 206

Solstheim was a cold place. At least, it was before I had reawoken in 4E 175; now it had changed in the wake of the events after the Oblivion Crisis and after Red Year, something I was more than bitter about.

I sat by the edge of the sea, watching as my long, red hair blew with the wind. This was strange, considering how I used to be afraid of water. I couldn't help but think somewhat bitterly about the events that had happened, and the events to come. Rumor had it that the Dragonborn herself had taken a trip to the island.

I could certainly vouch for the fact that she had. And she was on her way to Tel Mithryn. I let out a hollow bark of laugher at that. Ah, Neloth...I wondered if he remembered me and my friends at all.

Despite how horrible it was that it came to end, I missed those days. I missed Vvardenfell, and the sunny lands that made the island shine amongst the ash. But now the entire island was nothing but ashes, and my name had faded into them as they blew in the wind. Barely anyone remembered my name at all.

In some ways, I was glad of it. I was glad that no one remembered my name. They knew the basic story that had only become increasingly more ridiculous over time. They thought the person who had saved (and indirectly destroyed) Morrowind was a legend, and someone to be feared. Oh, but how I laughed whenever I heard that tale. I may have been the Nerevarine, but I was no one to be feared. Not really. Not the way everyone thought.

But maybe because of how ridiculous I thought it was, or because I thought that a select few deserved to hear the true tale as I had written it over two hundred years before rather than the fabrication that had more holes than a Frostbite Spider's web, but I am going to share this story. The story of the Nerevarine, but also of her companions.

And how she came to be.

I couldn't help but think, with bitter laughter, what might have happened had I not taken the blame for Lillia's death. My fate was not something I would wish on anyone, and especially not my sister.

It wasn't a story I could share with most. But perhaps I could make up for it now.

Perhaps I could share the story with her, if she gained my trust.