My name is...no, it was Vyrana. I was a n'wah, despite being a Dunmer, born some two centuries ago in Cyrodiil and left in an orphanage by my parents. I grew up a thief...a good one, even...until I got caught. I can't remember what I tried to steal...it doesn't matter anymore, I suppose. Does it?
They brought me to Vvardenfell, decree of the Emperor himself. By carriage, then by ship. They gave me some kind of freedom, as long as I helped the gathering information about the Nerevarine prophecies.
And then...
They said I could fulfill them. Become the Nerevarine. It was...I felt...I don't know, I'm sorry...
It was weird. But I began to walk the path...I wasn't that bad, I think...slew a handful of Dagoth Ur's minions...survived the Corprus disease thanks to a Telvanni mage...and the I was sent here, to the Cavern of the Incarnate. The others cheered as I walked towards the statue, in its hands, Moon-and-Star...the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I was...I was not Incarnate. I was not Nerevarine. But you are, surely.
You have to be.