Snow flitted through the open mountain air, glistening in the golden glow of sunlight rising over the West.
A few weeks had passed since the last exhibition and a few changes occurred in the Hall. A new Rest area was expanded in the main hall, providing more tables for people to eat at, and Cura's little book of a bedroom was expanded, giving her a personal weapon rack, book desk, and larger closet.
Though she was still sore, the young Breton regained her proper mobility. She was back on her feet, and sitting on a bench before the Shrine.
She felt bad about what happened with Lydia and the others, but she knew her Housecarl was still nearby, in Dawnstar.
She regretted making Lydia wait for this long. Her boredom must be immense.
When Cura pulled herself up from the bench, she felt a light squeeze in the back of her right thigh. She was still a little tense, but it was not as harsh as weeks prior.
She looked at the Hall around her, at the other Vigilants. Some were praying, some were eating, and some were exchanging words at the back near the remodeled hearth, where another was using the cooking pot.
Vigilant Moric was tending the Hammer in its new display case, wiping it with a cloth.
When he noticed Cura staring at him, he turned around to face her. "It looks wondrous, does it not?" He asked.
"It does." Cura responded with a smile. "You've gotten it to shine very clearly."
"Thanks to your efforts, we have it. Truth be told, I never thought I would ever get to touch it in my life." Moric admitted. "Thanks again."
The gratitude warmed her heart, and Cura laughed a little awkwardly in response. "It's all right... it's out of that old Museum and back with its people. That's what really matters."
"As are you." Moric said affectionately. Truly, the young Breton was growing on him. He could appreciate Cura's humility, and perhaps even learn from it a little, he figured. Though what he didn't know was that deep down, Cura loved the clamour behind her deeds. Humility was difficult to hold onto.
Though, it was not undeserved clout, after all. Cura had overcome so much to get that Hammer for them; even reopening former wounds in the process. Moric only hoped the damage wasn't irreparable, for Skyrim's sake. Not that he liked the frozen wasteland, but still, just on principle the Land, and Tamriel by extension, deserved to live through the Dragon crisis. Perhaps even the Hero of Cyrodiil had his bragging rights.
"So, Vigilant Cura, if you don't mind me asking; when do you intend to answer the Greybeards?" Moric was curious. He looked away from the Hammer which he polished and faced the girl for an answer. "You know... I don't think there's been a female Dragonborn in this land since Potema Septim."
"How flattering." Cura scoffed dryly by the comparison with a wicked Necromancess.
"I did not mean to compare your moral character with that of the Wolf Queen's." Moric reiterated. "Simply a trivial fact."
"I suppose so." Cura mused. "But I wonder why it was that the Septims were never on record being able to Shout?" Cura asked.
"Because the Thu'um, even by their time, has been a lost art." Brother Adalvald overheard the conversation from the new rest space next room over and came over to explain, being the Student of History that he was. "And Dragons have only just recently made their overwhelming return. The necessity has only now arisen. Only a small handful of people this era can Shout. The Greybeards, the Jarl of Windhelm, and our very own little Cura."
Cura found it fascinating, though she still could not understand why she was chosen, of all people. An abandoned child raised by a Religious vigilante Organization off the main road of Dawnstar in a rest house. Truly, Skjor was a better candidate for the Dragon blood than she was.
May he rest in peace, the great warrior that he was; even if he was quite brusque.
Cura's expression fell.
Truly, she had no right to call herself a Companion. She hadn't even attended Skjor's funeral.
She was injured, sure, but her heart did not truly beat as one with the Companions. She joined to hone her fighting technique. How could she face them now?
"Is something troubling you, Vigilant Cura?" Moric asked attentively. "I'll listen."
"I feel as though I've failed." Cura shrugged her shoulders sadly. "There are many better candidates out there to be Dragonborn."
"...And there are far worse." Moric interrupted Cura's self-pity in spite of his promise of attention. "I don't think you've failed anything."
"I've only gotten myself and others harmed." Cura sulked. "I missed one of the Companions' funeral. I've injured myself terribly quite a number of times. I'm an emotional sponge."
"You've also saved my life, helped expand this Hall-" Moric gestured with both arms outstretched to emphasize the brand new open space and splendor of the remodeled Hall of the Vigilant. "We were only able to do so because of the deal you brokered with Jarl Balgruuf-or have you already forgotten?"
The words registered, but Cura still did not feel as though she had done much for the Vigil.
"Not to mention the Hammer." Moric drew attention to it. "How many times must I throw a compliment at you before it finally sinks in? I am certain I've already brought it up before."
"You did..." Cura fidgeted slightly. "it's just... I'm not somebody who receives a compliment well, I suppose. It feels as though I haven't earned the praise. I do appreciate it, but..."
"Then take the gratitude and shut up." Moric scoffed. The young Breton's priorities were all over the place. It was clear that growing up she must have been more seen rather than heard.
Cura nodded. "All right." She got up from the bench and began to stretch her arms and arched her back forward with a euphoric murmur. It felt good.
"Ah, you're awake, good." Keeper Carcette walked up the stairs and caught sight of Cura stretching in the main Hall. "How have you rested?"
"I've rested well, Keeper." Cura spoke meekly. "I... am grateful for the larger room."
"Yes; I realized that it was cramped." The Keeper patted herself on the back vocally. "I figured a change was much needed."
A moment of silence passed before Cura spoke again. "Now that I'm rested up, there's something I must do."
"What's that?" The Keeper asked quickly, like an attentive Parent wondering how late their child would be out for that night. She was ready to press the notion, leaving Cura little room for dodging the question.
"I have to return an artifact to a Shrine." Cura stated. "It's... important, and Necromancy is involved."
Vigilant Moric and Keeper Carcette both enunciated at once, in unison. "Necromancy?"
The two paused a moment to look at one another, then back at Cura.
"A Daedric Cult?" Moric proposed immediately, showing reasonable amounts of concern. "I hope you know what you're doing."
"Er... I'm not sure. It's not entirely clear." Cura expressed. "I have to cleanse a Temple of Necromancy. I guess I'll find out the details when I get to it."
"What temple?" Carcette immediately demanded information. She knew it had nothing to do with Stendarr, that much was for certain. Such a matter surely had to run past the Keeper of the Vigil first.
Cura was unsure whether or not to tell her, but ultimately relented. "The one on Mt. Kilkreath." Cura reluctantly explained.
"The Shrine of the Daedric Prince, Meridia?" Moric pressed. As soon as the word 'Daedric' came out of his mouth, Carcette's jaw all but dropped, and Cura cringed and braced herself for a stern lecturing.
"Have you lost your wit?!" Keeper Carcette snapped at Cura. "We're to battle the Daedra, not aid them!"
"Meridia isn't a bad Daedra, though." Cura stated plainly. "She hates the Undead as much as we do! She's helped people fight against minions of Molag Bal. I-in fact, there have been periods of History where the Cult considered labelling Meridia as one of the Aedra-but only because she didn't give her life force to maintain the world-she was dropped from the Divines."
Moric scratched his chin. "Well... it was a little more complicated than that, but Cura does have a point."
"The point is moot!" Keeper Carcette contradicted. "We do not aid Daedra-regardless of how they've gained the title. They've no care for our kind!"
"What if Mara would have been a Daedra?" Cura asked. "Would you be angry with me for helping her or her followers should they ask?"
"Mara is one of the Aedra. She always has been." Carcette stated.
"Oh, yeah? Then what about Shor?" Cura asked. "According to your Breton culture, Shor is an evil god who brings famines, plagues, and curses!"
"What has Sheor got to do with this?" Keeper Carcette crossed her arms, growing weary of the excuses.
"Stendarr is Shor's Shield-Thane! I suppose Stendarr is evil too, then, right?" Cura snapped. "Not to mention that Shor was on Humanity's side. The Elves hated us, but he stood up for us, right?"
"We are part-elf." Keeper Carcette reminded her. "Much to the Altmer's disappointment, and Humanity's scorn."
"By Aldmer experimentation. Aldmer who hated Humanity and Shor, and our allies, with a perverse sense of curiosity." Cura reminded her. "The Aldmer were the ones who believed Sheor was evil, and that's why the Bretony religion demonizes him, too. Aldmer perspective, right?"
Moric decided to step backwards. The tension was so thick, a knife could have severed it. The Keeper looked incresingly angered, though she maintained her composure and answered simply. "I suppose Cura is correct. There are many differing perspectives on the matter."
"Then couldn't somebody say the same about how you're looking at Meridia?" Cura asked. "As far as I'm concerned, she's an unrecognized Aedra. And while you synonymize Daedra with evil, which most of them are, could we not consider Akatosh to be heinous as an Aedra, if he truly created the Dragons and Alduin?"
It really was a matter of perspective at this point.
If the Bretons were correct, their own admission painted Stendarr in a negative light should the Nords be correct in his relation to Shor. The Dragons' return shows a darker side to the seemingly benevolent Akatosh.
"Meridia was once one of the allies of Magnus." Moric decided to interject. "But after consorting with Daedra when she discovered Lorkhan's plot, she lost her status during the Dawn Era before the world was complete, it is said."
"So she was against Sheor?" Keeper Carcette looked to Moric with mild confusion.
"It's not entirely clear." Moric stated straightforwardly. "Most of what we know is muddled."
Cura took Meridia's Beacon out of her bag. Thankfully, nobody had seen it prior to now, otherwise it would be locked away in the vault with the other artifacts. "I have to bring this to Mt. Kilkreath. And I'll be slaying Necromancers. I figured it would be a good thing." As she held the adamant orb upwards, it reflected the light emanating from the windows above, glistening like a beautiful gem.
"Very well." Keeper Carcette relented. "You may do this task, but for future reference, do not run errands for beings outside of the Nine. Not even Sai, Mystara, and especially not the Ebonarm or Sithis. Are we clear? " The Keeper closed the matter, expecting no retort against her.
Cura nodded to placate the frustrated Keeper. "Yes, of course." She then cut the conversation there and headed out the door, leaving them behind. When she made it out to the snow, the Breton released a sigh of relief. That went better than she had anticipated, all things considered.
Cura hated getting into arguments with the Keeper; they always left her with a hollow, tight feeling in her chest. Though this time she knew she was right, she still felt like she needed to apologize, being the emotional sponge she was. She shrugged it off and walked down the path, and onto the main road through the rolling white hills and trees. They were never taught of Stendarr bearing any ill will towards Meridia, so she was certain the God of Mercy would be agreeable on this matter.
She would go to the Windpeak Inn and get Lydia, and then the pair would trek up to Mt. Kilkreath by foot, as arduous as that would be.
As Cura walked through the wide field, an arrow whizzed past her and embedded itself in the snow nearby. Quickly the Breton held up her shield and leaped to her side to dodge the next one. Her guard was up, as need be.
Further off, from the direction whence they came, she saw a figure in black and red knocking another arrow on his bow. It was another member of the Dark Brotherhood.
"YOL TOOR!" Cura shouted, causing a whirlwind of fire to burst forward and engulf the assassin, causing him to wail in horrified agony and drop into the remaining snow in the hopes of dousing the flames.
Cura gave him no quarter. She rushed forward and smashed him in the skull with her new Dwarven Mace, killing him quickly.
She searched his person and found another bounty writ. Infuriated, the Breton pocketed it and the bag of 200 coins the assassin held on his person before moving on down the path to Dawnstar. "I'm growing quite weary of this..." Cura muttered. If these assassins attempted her life one more time, she'd go straight to the Penitus Oculatus and destroy the Brotherhood. She had little patience for these obnoxious encounters these days. Though, the free coin was nice, she had to admit.
After a scuffle with some ice wolves, Cura noticed the Windpeak Inn and made her way towards it, ignoring the tents set up on the side of the road. Being the first building on the path, it was quite easy to spot the large inn before anything else in the foggy snowfall. Inside, the Inn was calm and peaceful. There were people leaning on the tables, drunken, and the Barkeep was laying against the bar.
Lydia, on the other hand seemed to be laughing with a small group of vagabonds on the side of the bar. It did not take long for her to notice Cura approaching with blood on her robes.
"My Thane! Did you rest well? ...Are you all right?" Lydia motioned towards the blood on Cura's lower abdomen.
"I'm all right; just a scuffle against an assassin on the way here." Cura stated nonchalantly. "Sorry to have kept you waiting all this time."
"It's well, Ma'am." Lydia said with a reassuring nod. "I did some Mercenary work for this fine lot as I waited for your recovery." She gestured towards the vagabond group. They were all Khajiit, upon closer inspection. Cura was more surprised that the Inn was all right with housing them, considering Skald the Elder's views on the "lesser races". Typical Stormcloak rhetoric here and there.
"Ooh, Khajiit!" Cura exclaimed. "How fascinating! I don't see your kind very often."
"So many refuse to talk to us. They call us thieves and smugglers. I am glad to see that you are not such a one." the Leader of the Khajiit group spoke, her catlike eyes opening delightfully.
"Have you had trouble with the locals?" Cura asked as she passed on over to the leader.
"Mostly it is the Nords. They do not like outsiders in their land, and so we are forbidden to enter the cities. When they look upon us, they see only pickpockets and skooma dealers. It is most unfair, but we do our best to ignore them." The leader extended a hand for a shake. "This one is known as Ahkari."
Cura took her hand politely. "And my name is Cura. It's nice to meet you. How long have you been in Skyrim?"
"Not long, in truth." Ahkari admitted wistfully. "I came to Skyrim after I found myself unwelcome in both Elsweyr and Cyrodiil. I seem to have an unfortunate talent for getting myself involved in misunderstandings with the law. Ri'saad was able to look past that, and it was he who helped to set me up with a trade caravan. Now I work for him."
"Don't worry, I won't judge you." Cura stated. "I've had misunderstandings with the law, myself."
"Kharjo has something to say." A male Khajiit in steel plate armour interjected.
"Go ahead." Ahkari permitted.
"You are the Thane of Lydia, yes?" Kharjo asked Cura, which she responded to with a nod. "She has said much about you, and your power you have to kill the Dragons, yes?"
Cura looked at Lydia disapprovingly. She didn't need all of Skyrim to know she was Dragonborn. She was already in enough danger as it is. Still, she would be honest. "Yes, I've slain a few Dragons."
"This is good. The Dragons torment our Caravans. Thankfully they are few and far in between, but they are very destructive." Kharjo stated. "This Khajiit guards the others, but even he has trouble with is filled with all manner of dangerous beasts. Wolves, trolls, mammoths and giants would all like to make a meal of us. But the Dragons are the most fearsome. Lucky for us, they don't seem to hunt along the road, so on the roads we are forced to stay."
"Well... they've attacked Dragon's Bridge." Cura informed him. "Some roads aren't quite safe, and unfortunately there isn't enough of me to go around. Do be cautious."
"I was hired to protect the others as we walk the roads of Skyrim. It is a thankless task and I would rather be back home in Elsweyr, but I have little choice." Kharjo reiterated and bemoaned his status. "Ahkari freed me from a prison in Cyrodiil, and now I must repay my debt to her. A word of advice, my friend - do not mix gambling and drinking. Taken together, they will empty your pockets of every septim."
Lydia chuckled. "And I became her Housecarl because she slayed a Dragon." She shrugged. "Still a thankless job, but at least it has glory in it."
Kharjo rolled his eyes, and the other two Khajiits simply continued downing their ale.
"So, perchance, do you know an easy route to get to Mt. Kilkreath from here?" Cura posed the question.
"Mt. Kilkreath is to the North West." Ahkari stated. "In the Hold of Haafingar. You should go to Solitude and head West."
Cura's eyes lit up. She'd been to Solitude, so she could always perform a Fast Travel to the City, and then climb the Mountains from there. It would be far easier than trekking through the Snow and the Mountain Range. "Thank you!" She exclaimed.
"You are welcome." Ahkari stated. "A friend to Lydia is a friend to us, as she helped Kharjo regain his necklace."
Kharjo nodded and showed the Moon-designed necklace to Cura, flashing it in the air.
"You'll have to tell me that story sometime." Cura told Lydia. "I'd be interested in the details."
"Certainly, my Thane." Lydia accepted.
Cura reached into her bag and took out the coin purse she had looted from the assassin, and handed it to Ahkari. "Thank you. Be well."
"Khajiit thanks you very much. Give me your map." Ahkari smiled and gestured for Cura to give her the chart. Cura did so, and Ahkari circled the location of Mt. Kilkreath on her map. "Specific location, just for you." the Khajiit stated. "May your road lead you to warm sands."
The white Khajiit in steel armour spoke up next. "S'rendarr be with you."
Cura, who was already at the door, turned to face him, confused for a moment before realizing that he meant Stendarr. She then gave him a courtly nod and departed the Inn, with Lydia behind her.
"So, shall we begin our walk, my Thane?" Lydia asked.
"No. Hang on to me, Lydia. I have a better idea!" Cura extended her arm for Lydia to latch onto, and the Housecarl realized what she was about to do. She did as she was bid, and the pair quickly Fast Travelled to the gates of Solitude.
Lydia wobbled a bit and almost fell over to her side to vomit, but managed to keep it together.
The beautiful verdant environment was a nice contrast to the drab winter wonderland of Dawnstar, though the sudden shift to warmer air caused their noses to itch. "Solitude." Cura stated. "The last time I was here, a man was being executed for opening a gate."
"Wait, really?" Lydia asked, surprised. "How is that a crime worthy of execution?"
"Apparently he opened it for Ulfric Stormcloak to escape the city after he had slain the High King. The people of the city spared him no quarter for it." Cura shuddered. "His head rolled that evening."
Lydia cringed. "The Empire's justice can be quite harsh."
"I wouldn't blame the Empire in its entirety; just some mismanaged individuals within the upper ranks." Cura excused. "It can happen in any group."
"Like the Vigil." Lydia sneered, obviously hinting towards Carcette.
Cura gave her a dirty look. "What do you mean by that?" She asked. "I know that you don't get along very well with Keeper Carcette, but-"
"Move out of the way!" A Haafingar Guard called out to the pair, who were standing with their backs directly to the city gate.
Cura and Lydia were startled, but quickly moved to the side as the gates behind them opened up. From the gates emerged a band of High Elves, clad in black and gold, riding on white and beige horses. Their leader was a female High Elf with golden hair and striking yellow eyes. They were Thalmor, by the look of it.
Cura stared at the Leader, who locked eyes with her in that moment. She then turned her head to look at the Altmer behind, who were leading Prisoners on ropes in the back in a procession of superiority.
Cura could feel the coldness of the Leader's glare and diverted her gaze altogether. She hoped there were no Thalmor from Northwatch Keep there, and she hoped Thorald Gray-Mane wasn't potentially among the Prisoners, for her sake. If so, this would be a very difficult excuse to make. Slowly, Cura looked back again at their Leader as she continued moving past them down the cobblestone road. There was something oddly familiar about her, but Cura could not quite put her finger on it.
"Looks like Elenwen and her boys rounded up a few more Talos-worshippers." Lydia and Cura overheard a few Guards mutter on the side.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say." Another Guard stated. "We don't need another war over their stupidity. The Stormcloaks are trouble enough."
Awful, Cura thought. She could not imagine what life would be like if she would be punished for her faith in Stendarr. In a way, she could sympathize with the Talos-faithful. A part of her wanted to try and talk this Elenwen out of capturing those poor Nords, but she was hopelessly outnumbered, and it would cause larger problems for everyone if she did. So, the Dragonborn decided to walk past the Thalmor procession and take to the mountainside above them instead, though she kept her eyes on them as she continued on above.
Cura wondered if their Leader thought she were an Altmer for that brief moment they locked eyes, and perhaps that was why she left her alone in spite of her travelling with a Nord. Or perhaps the Altmer thought her a dirty mongrel, more appropriately thinking. The Breton had a case of morbid curiosity; on the one hand she disagreed heavily with the Thalmor mentality, being as equally arrogant as the Nords' own, but on te other hand she would love the opportunity to meet a Thalmor and come to understand their perspective on things. Perhaps this was due to her own heritage, or just a desire to learn. Either way, perhaps one day she would get the opportunity to speak to them directly in a cordial situation. Maybe even learn some Magic from them. Altmer were, after all, Highborn in the magickal arts.
Soon enough, the mountainside elevated to a point where Cura could no longer track the Thalmors' movements, and she gave up trying to do so. She opened up her map and Lydia kept watch on the area around the pair while she did so.
Cura pinpointed their location on the map and noted the location of Mt. Kilkreath, which was not too far away from their current position. "Don't worry, Lady Meridia. I will return your Beacon." Cura promised aloud as she folded up her map.
After some meandering over the Great Arch, almost heading towards Jehanna, High Rock, when Cura measured their location on the map, and then to what looked like a Meditation Grotto and taking a few more wrong turns, the pair finally climbed back up the Haafingar Mountains until they came upon a gradual incline between the rocky cliff and plots of rugged, mossy land covered in permafrost folding over other plots of land. On the rocky cliff was what appeared to be the Kilkreath Temple. Cura surmised it from seeing its signature landmark above: the Statue of Meridia.
"We've finally made it." Lydia exclaimed. "My Thane, why don't I lead next time?"
"Well... it was a nice walk, wasn't it?" Cura tried to make light of her error.
"Oh, yes." Lydia rolled her eyes. "I do love getting lost in the frozen hillside when I try to avoid getting lost in the frozen hillside." Her tone dripped with acidic sarcasm as she recounted their whole idea of Fast Travelling was to avoid doing what they wound up doing in Haafingar instead of in the Pale.
Cura scoffed. "I could have finally gone to see High Rock!" She crossed her arms. "That would have been interesting."
"Do you think they're dealing with Dragons, too? And Elsewyr, Morrowind, Black Marsh and Cyrodiil?" Lydia mused.
"Gosh, I hope not." Cura stated. "There's only one me to go around, like I said to the Khajiit. Trying to save Skyrim is overwhelming enough as it is." She headed up the stairs towards the Statue of the Daedric Prince Meridia, who was wearing a hood and robe with a large pair of wings extending from her back and she held her hands up towards the Heavens.
Cura went on one knee out of respect to the goddess before continuing onwards to the pedestal at the base of the statue, where she saw a socket that looked like a perfect place to lay the beacon.
A hollow, yet commanding feminine voice seemed to emanate from the statue. "Look at my temple, lying in ruins. So much for the constancy of mortals, their crafts and their hearts. If they love me not, how can my love reach them? Restore to me my beacon, that I might guide you toward your destiny."
The voice caught the Breton off-guard. It was a sad state to see the temple in its fallen state, indeed. She could feel the darkness penetrating through the very stones themselves. Cura took one look up towards the statue's face, and slowly inserted the Beacon. Quickly, a rush of power shot through her and raised her ever so steadily into the sky, high above the world.
For a moment, Cura's heart skipped a beat and she began to frantically search beneath her feet. She was powerless to move!
Had she made a mistake?
A bright light slowly began to materialize some feet away, beckoning to her. Cura swallowed some of her saliva, and somehow found herself able to walk on the air itself. She did such and approached the luminous orb before her.
"I am Meridia, Lady of Infinite Energies, the Bright Lady, the Arbiter of Inner Luminance, the Sunfire, the Radiant One, the Keeper, the Lady of Light and the Prince of Life" The light addressed herself as the radiant maiden with blonde hair in a blue robe with angelic wings made of light slowly appeared to meet Cura.
Cura quickly went down on one knee and lowered her head in reverence. "Lady Meridia."
"A follower of Stendarr." Meridia sneered. "I suppose I can't pick and choose to whom shall come with my aid..." the Daedric Prince muttered.
Cura was a little confused by her reaction to her position, but decided not to speak against it. Judging by her tone, perhaps Meridia did have some issue with the Divines. Maybe Cura should have done a little more research with Adalvald into this. And then she suddenly remembered Umaril, the enemy of Pelinal Whitestake. And the Ayleids, and their worship of Meridia. Ot had never seemed relevant to her before, so it had slipped her mind.
A chill ran up Cura's spine. Hopefully the Daedric Prince had no ill intent.
"I aim to help you, Meridia." Cura assured her with a gentle nod,
"Yes, I know, and this pleases me. As you've carried my Beacon, I have heard all you have spoken." Meridia informed her. "Your ignorance is unsurprising, though your respect for me I do appreciate. You would make a fine champion of light."
"Thank you." Cura accepted the compliment.
"It is time for my splendor to return to Skyrim. But the token of my truth lies buried in the ruins of my once great temple, now tainted by a profane darkness skittering within." Her tone was surprisingly genuine and dismayed for a Daedric Prince. The higher being's face fell with a sorrowful disgust.
"Who?" Cura asked, becoming a little upset herself. "Who has done this? They shall not get away with it, I promise you."
Meridia looked to the determined Breton, and made her instructions clear. "The Necromancer Malkoran defiles my shrine with vile corruptions, trapping lost souls left in the wake of this war to do his bidding. Worse still, he uses the power stored within my own token to fuel his foul deeds. I have brought you here, mortal, to be my champion. You will enter my temple, retrieve my artifact, and destroy the defiler. Guide my light through the temple to open the inner sanctum and destroy the defiler."
"That disgusting fiend." Cura's tone fell with disgust. She again bowed her head. "You may have your differences with Stendarr, my lady, but I will say on his behalf, that in doing your will in this instance, I will be spreading mercy upon the land and upon those tainted by the darkness. Our desires are as one, Lady Meridia. I shall do your will. He cannot get away with this affront to life!"
Meridia was unimpressed. "You mortals only see life as precious because it ends. Take it from a god—you'll never know how fortunate you are."
Cura tilted her head. "And Necromancers seek to live past their ends, and force undeath upon others. This is a crime for mortals."
The Daedric Prince fell silent for a second, and then resumed. "Malkoran has forced the doors shut. But this is my temple, and it responds to my decree. I will send down a ray of light. Guide this light through my temple and its doors will open." She laid a hand on Cura's head. "May you be unharmed, brave Knight."
With that, a flash of brilliant light shone throughout the skies, and Cura was gently lowered back down to the earth.
When Cura's feet touched the ground, a flash of light nearly blinded Lydia, who instinctively held up her forearm to block her eyes. For a moment thereafter, Cura looked up at the statue again.
"My Thane? What just happened? You were up in the sky, enveloped in light! Are you all right?" Lydia asked with great concern.
"I'm fine, Lydia. I was speaking with Meridia." Cura informed her. "We have an important task to accomplish, but I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to stay behind. It's going to be incredibly dangerous."
"What is it, Ma'am?" Lydia asked, gradually forming concern.
"A Necromancer has violated this Temple. As I thought." Cura stated factually. "I am going to punish this fiend for what he has done!"
"A N-Necromancer?" Lydia's voice shuddered. She swallowed her spit. "I would follow you into the abyss, my Thane. Lead the way."
Cura lead the way; thankfully the entrance was straightforward, so there were no opportunities to meander. Once she opened the door, a dark shadow exited from the doors and burned up in the sunlight. It left behind a feeling of dread and darkness in their wake. Cura and Lydia exchanged nervous glances, Losing against a necromancer could mean losing their very souls. Already, they were dreading the task ahead.
Off to a great start, but someone had to do it.
Once inside the Kilkreath Temple, the profane darkness was palpable everywhere as a thick, black fog oozed through the corridors and the first thing they could see was the desecrated corpse of an Imperial Soldier, his chest carved open and his right eye removed. Lydia cringed. "Wow... I've seen some horrific things in my day, but this was just... unnecessary."
"All the more reason to put a stop to it." Cura's resolve was strong in this. The Vigil had the same ideals that Meridia held; cleanse the world of evil Daedric Influences. She would fulfill her duty and pay respects to Meridia.
The pair headed through the dusty, cursed corridor and noticed a locked door on their left. Cura instructed to Lydia to pick the lock, and after a few attempts, the Nord was able to pry it open. Inside it lead to a lever, which Cura quickly surmised was there to open the adjacent gate. When Lydia pulled the lever, the shutters clanked, and the gate did indeed open.
They proceeded through the eastern path and entered huge chamber with black spectral entities roaming the halls.
"Those are Wraiths..." Cura spoke sadly, identifying them as the desecrated soldiers, Imperial and Stormcloak all, that littered the halls, each missing their right eyes and hearts. It reflected on the wraiths, who had a glowing left eye.
Cura quickly ran past them and they noticed her presence, quickly turning hostile. Lydia took out her bow and shot a couple of arrows, not expecting them to connect with the ghastly spirits, and being surprised when they did.
The Wraiths turned upon Lydia and began to swarm her, causing the Nord to panic.
Fortunately, Cura made it to a pedestal that rested beneath the beam of Meridia's light, and pushed a button on the stand, causing what looked like another Beacon to rise above it and catch the light, beaming it everywhere before focusing on a prism above a door, which enabled it to open. The Wraiths in the room were dissipated by the holy light when the Beacon flashed through the room in that first instant.
Cura approached Lydia and cast a Healing Spell on her to relieve her of injury.
"I... I really hate this..." Lydia's voice trembled. She had quite literally stared death in the face, and it was enough to make the hardiest Nord squeamish. It was all so unnatural.
"You can go back outside." Cura told her. "I don't want you to go too far."
"No, I can do this, my Thane. Don't worry about it!" Lydia chastised her. "I'm your Housecarl! If you wandered into Oblivion I would accompany you."
"That's... a bit drastic." Cura admitted as she rubbed the back of her neck. The pair descended the Eastern Hall, and followed the stream of light through the gloom-filled air. More of the corrupted shades began to slowly emerge in that instant, and attacked in hordes, trying to prevent them from bringing Meridia's light back to the temple.
Cura cast a fire spell and began to burn the demonic ghosts as they inched toward her and Lydia. Lydia's response was to slash at the ones emerging from behind them through the walls. "They just don't let up!" Lydia's voice raised as she held back the blade of one of them with her shield outstretched, her strength failing in the face of the dark adversary.
"FUS!" Cura shouted at the ones ahead of her, dissipating their smoky forms before turning around and burying her mace into the head of the one that tormented Lydia.
After they disposed of the wraiths, they entered the next chamber and then Cura hurried and activated the pedestal on the other side of the wall to direct Meridia's light further into the depths of the ruin.
The eastern path was blocked by rubble, so Lydia led Cura to the narrow tunnel to their south, where they contended with even more demonic shades. After sustaining some wounds, Cura healed the both of them, and they headed to a wooden door nearby and opened it, where it took them outside onto the temple balcony. Cura was cautious with her footing and crossed a narrow, broken pathway, where at the end she saw a treasure chest. She opened the chest and found what looked to be an Elven Shield, but this was no mere Elven Shield; it had Malachite forged into it, forming what looked like Meridia's angelic wings. This must have been the 'Glass' Elven armour she had heard about, as it matched some of the Thalmor's armour.
Meridia did have many Elven followers, so Cura could understand the connection. Perhaps this shield was forged by her priests?
Cura looked to her Skyforge Steel Shield with a sad Nostalgia, and then handed it over to Lydia. "Here, Lydia. I'm going to take the Elven Shield for my own."
"If you want to wield an Elven shield in Skyrim, be my guest." Lydia spoke dryly. "But you're really pushing your luck."
Cura shrugged and tied the strap around her forearm, adjusting it to her arm's thickness with the Gauntlets included. She then began to maneuver her wrist before gripping the handle of it and began to do a few practice swings and pivots with it to get a feel for the portable armour. It was good. Nay, it fit her very well and was not so heavy as one might expect from Moonstone embedded with Malachite.
"All right." Cura was prepared to continue. "Let's go."
The pair headed through the wooden door to their left, which led back inside the temple, where they entered another huge chamber with multiple paths and levels. There were what appeared to be gigantic cages-or rather firmaments that were designed to look like so on platforms. Cura began to look around at her eye level and saw more shades, but no light. Lydia tapped her on the shoulder and pointed upwards. The beam of light and the pedestal were located above on the ceiling this time.
Cura and Lydia headed up the set of stairs to their right, and Lydia checked a door, which seemed to be locked. Cura engaged in combat with one of the wraiths, and ultimately emerged victorious as her new Glass Shield managed to deflect a few sturdy greatsword blows.
Cura then took a running jump to a broken ledge and activated the pedestal that rested atop it before Lydia could warn her about an archer wraith, who plunged an arrow into her lower back, making inches beside her spine. The light directed itself towards a northern direction, opening a locked door.
Lydia was quick on her feet and she leaped down below and felled the archer before he could fire another arrow at Cura. She buried her sword in his face, causing the wraith to dissipate. A soul could never be fully vanquished, thankfully, but Lydia knew they had to move quickly as they would most likely reform in time.
When Cura and Lydia walked through the open door, it led them back outside, when they noticed six pillars lit up. Cura healed her wounds in the moment of respite, and Lydia ever appreciated the fresh air. It was a welcome change compared to the smell of rot from within.
Cura looked up to the sky. "We're almost done, Lady Meridia." She affirmed. "There is still work to do, but we will have your temple returned to you in no time."
Cura loocated and entered the door leading back inside of the Kilkreath Ruins.
The pair head up the stairs, carefully tip-toe'ing around the blasphemed dead, and entered a huge chamber with multiple levels and more corrupted shades.
They fought yet more of the cursed dead and Cura rushed ahead through the echoing hall and pulled the lever jutting out of a pillar and headed back to the higher level, then crossed over the disrepaired bridge. She and Lydia reached an intersection, and Cura persisted forward while Lydia stopped for a moment to check for loot on the right. It seemed she couldn't help herself. Cura stood in wait for her Housecarl, who finally joined her.
"All there was was this book." She held up a copy of 'The Battle at Red Mountain". "It's not much, but we could sell it."
"Or I could gift it to Brother Adalvald." Cura stated. "It seems like something he'd really enjoy."
"Whatever pleases you, my Thane." Lydia stated as she pocketed the book.
Cura headed to the next section of the room, where she spotted another pedestal. She activated it, and watched as the light shone towards a platform above. She led Lydia through another intersection and jumped down a level and headed through the now open metal slate door. Lydia tried to keep up, but Cura was too quick, running through and around profaned dead and through a tunnel where she tore through even more defiled shades. After descending more stairs, Cura came upon a tunnel. with a visible pedestal at the very end in a nook in the wall. Lydia was huffing for air and Cura was nearly out of breath by the time she reached it. After leaning on the pedestal for a few moments, Cura activated it and the beams finally condensed into one, opening the door at the ground floor of the chamber beside them, leading to the Kilkreath Catacombs, presumably.
The catacombs were darker and even gloomier than the floors above. This was the center of the dark activity within the temple, there could be no doubt about that. The darkness was thick and powerful, and dreadfully frightful. Necromancy at its worst.
Cura made her way to the last pedestal and activated it. The final beam of light received it, and it created a mighty shockwave through the temple, while dissolved the remaining shades.
The door exploded off its hinges, revealing who Cura could only guess was Malkoran, the necromancer who spurned Meridia's wrath.
Cura headed down the stairs and walked around the strewed bones and corpses. It was her objective to kill Malkoran. Cura was anxious, but she swallowed her fears and headed into the room.
"Are you Malkoran?" She asked to be certain.
The Hooded figure pulled down his black hood, revealing himself to be a Breton man with brown hair and a beard, missing his right eye, much to Cura's surprise. "So, Meridia sends a puppet, at last, to stop me." He scoffed mockingly. "Are you really the best she could muster up? A Vigilant of Stendarr? Frankly, I feel a little insulted."
"Before we fight, could you just tell me why you did this?" Cura asked him. "Frankly, I can't understand it."
"Of course not. You lack the intellect." Malkoran spat. "I seek to forge an army of the dead to conquer Skyrim."
"Why?" Cura asked him once again. "To what end? Why would you make an enemy of a Daedric Prince? If you wanted an Undead Army, why not turn Draugr to your command? Why desecrate corpses?"
"My Daedric Lord has asked me to profane her Temple, that's why." Malkoran spoke smugly.
"Your Daedric Lord is Molag Bal, isn't it?" Cura asked, unimpressed.
"Why would you assume so?" Malkoran asked as he walked a little off to the side.
"Because Molag Bal is the eternal enemy of Meridia." Cura stated. "And because he's disgusting and sadistic enough for something like this."
Malkoran laughed. "No; I serve Lord Boethiah. My task was to sow discord in the North and she would grant me unfathomable power, over the rest of the cult. I was set to do that, but you've meddled long enough in my affairs, I fear. When I undo your work, I promise I will exalt you properly, Breton; your bones will lead my legion into battle when I ascend the Throne of Solitude!"
He quickly summoned a violent storm of ice and wind, which whirled around the room. Hail and sleet pushed Cura back and she covered her eyes from stray shards.
Malkoran formed a long javelin of ice and hurled it towards Cura, who reacted quickly. "YOL!" The fire that emanated from her throat melted the ice javelin en route to her, causing it to revert to liquid and splash on the floor. Some residual fire hit Malkoran, and Lydia took the opportunity to rush him down. She cut him and he quickly dashed to the side, rendering the attack nonfatal. "Kehh... so you're the Dragonborn!" He exclaimed.
Cura ran forward. "Hnngah!" She shouted as she brought her mace down onto his shoulder, shattering it.
"Gah!" Malkoran screamed as he fell over from the impact. Quickly, he rolled around and cast a firebolt at Lydia, who was about to stab him, and it caused her to fly backwards, stunned and burning in pain.
Malkoran held his broken shoulder and cast a healing spell on himself. Cura received this motion with a violent burst of fire of her own, which prompted Malkoran to activate his Dragonskin. "You killed Alinor in Rorikstead." He laughed. "Saved me the trouble, you did. I suppose I ought to thank you. Will this do?"
He blasted Cura with a Firebolt when she lowered her guard in recollection of the Rorikstead event. Cura hit the wall with a loud grunt.
"This Civil War was the best thing that could ever happen for me." Malkoran admitted. "It provides me with an endless supply of corpses to work with. Corrupting the souls of the deceased and making them into mindless, ever-regenerating servants..."
In that moment, the air dimmed, and the dark wraiths began to slowly rematerialize before Cura and Lydia's very eyes.
"...I will be unstoppable when I have your Dragon Soul." Malkoran continued. "Maybe I'll lead a hunt against the other Vigilants. They can join you again."
He lifted his left finger and gave it a light flick, and the wraiths immediately flew forward and began to ruthlessly grab Cura; by the legs, by the arms, around her torso, by her throat, and by her head. They hissed and moaned, causing Cura's anxiety to deepen.
She mustered a shout, only to have her mouth covered by one of their blackened hands.
"Rip out her heart and present me her right eye." Malkoran instructed.
Lydia struggled to get up after the ordeal she suffered from the powerful Firebolt, but she quickly ran towards the Wraiths, ready to stab one, only for Malkoran to blast her with another Firebolt. "Stay down, will you? Don't be in such a rush. I'll kill you after, Nord."
He slowly approached Cura as one of the wraiths buried its hand into her chest.
"Gah! Hahhk!" Cura squealed while her mouth was covered. She continued to thrash and struggle within their grasp, but it was futile, as the spirits were too strong. She felt a cold pair of fingers touch her heart, causing it to flutter.
"Yes... yes..." Malkoran spoke pleasured by the garish sight. "You are lovely. You will make a lovely shade. Perhaps you can please me in different ways, as well."
"Get real, you sicko!" Lydia shouted as she shot Malkoran in the stomach with an arrow from a distance, causing him to fly backwards.
The Wraiths immediately released Cura and turned their attention to the new present threat; Lydia.
Cura fell to her knees and held her chest in her hand as she laboured for breath.
"You little c-" Malkoran was silenced by another arrow from Lydia, who ran over to the other side of the room, leading the shades to her.
Cura took the opportunity to strike Malkoran. She rushed as fast as she could with her racing heart and clubbed him in the skull from behind, knocking his face into the floor. She saw a beautiful sword docked on a pedestal, and a voice called to her.
Meridia spoke. "Mortals call it Dawnbreaker, for it was forged in a holy light that breaks upon my foes, burning away corruption and false life. Take the sword, warrior, and slay him before me."
Cura nodded and grabbed hold of the blade. She held it up into the light, revealing its burning splendor; it shone with the light of the sacred sun itself; the hilt and crossguard luminated with fire. Cura then quickly hurried off the small platform, and approached the dizzy Malkoran. She then grabbed him by the head and turned his pitiful face up to look at her.
The wraiths immediately turned their attention back to Cura and rushed in attempt to stop her, but the light kept them at bay.
"I strike you down in the name of Stendarr, and in the name of Meridia!" Cura cried out.
"N-no... p-please! I don't want to die!" Malkoran trembled cowardly.
Cura closed her heart and impaled him straight through the chest.
"GYAAAAH!" Malkoran wailed violently before he began to choke on his blood, which began to pour out from the puncture, before Cura withdrew the blade, cauterizing it by fire. At this point, he bled out internally and collapsed to the floor, dead.
The wraiths dissipated into the light, and the air fell still, and silent. Cura finally caught her breath and leaned against the wall.
"My Thane..." Lydia approached her with great concern, and Cura cast a Healing Spell on the both of them.
"I'll... be all right." Cura told Lydia. "I just... need time to recuperate.'
"That sword..." Lydia eyeballed it. "It shines bright, like the sun."
"It's magnificent." Cura examined the blazing blade. "When I impaled him with it... it created a shockwave of light, which doused all of the dead. A truly powerful weapon against the undead!"
"It seems so." Lydia stated. "So I guess we should go outside, now?"
In that instant, something very unusual was beginning to occur in their presence. Cura's eyes were drawn to the corpse of Malkoran. The body began to twitch. Cura quickly pulled herself off the wall. "You have got to be kidding me..."
Immediately, a black shadow began to emerge from Malkoran's body, and it roared like a vile beast. "Of course he would have experimented on himself! Of course!" Lydia exclaimed in horror.
This was it.
The shade immediately rushed towards Cura and Lydia in a vain attempt to kill the pair, or at the very least, possess them. Before Lydia could move, Cura leaped forward and plunged the tip of the sword into the dark wraith's face, through its empty right eye, and the light burst through it, causing it to emit one final, hollow wail before facing oblivion in the light.
When all was said and done, Meridia finally spoke. "It is done. The defiler is defeated. Touch its pedestal and bring Dawnbreaker to me."
Cura took one deep breath. Saying nothing, she walked over to the pedestal that she had retrieved the sword from, and she and Lydia were enveloped in bright white light. Again, Cura found herself levitating high above Skyrim, facing Meridia, the beautiful maiden of sunlight. "Malkoran is vanquished. Skyrim's dead shall remain at rest. This is as it should be. This is because of you."
Cura could feel warmth flowing through her body, and her heart was being comforted back into its natural state; no longer erratic from the ghostly intrusion from before. Her wounds were fully mended, as well. "It was my pleasure, Lady Meridia." Cura bowed her head in respect.
Meridia moved forward and signaled for Cura to rise to her feet, up from her kneeling position. When the Breton did as she was told, Meridia placed two fingers on her forehead, and a light shone upon her. "A new day is dawning. And you shall be its herald." In that moment, Cura realized that Meridia had given her her blessing, imparting power upon her.
"Take the mighty Dawnbreaker and with it purge corruption from the dark corners of the world. Wield it in my name, that my influence may grow." Meridia tasked her. "You may continue to serve Stendarr, of course, as you have gained my favour; but acknowledge me in your crusade against the Undead."
Cura lowered her head once more. "Thank you, Lady Meridia. I'll wield this mighty blade in your name."
"May the light of certitude guide your efforts." The Daedric Prince blessed her.
"Er-may I ask you one final question, Lady Meridia?" Cura asked humbly, which prompted a silent nod from the Lady of Dawn. "I need to know, for... the others I work with. Why are you considered a Daedra?"
"Because I saw through Lorkhan's trickery." Meridia responded, and she slowly vanished into the light. Cura was slowly lowered to the ground before Lydia once more, and she nearly stumbled upon the landing.
Lydia opened her eyes and looked to Cura, who stared at the Statue again, as she laid a hand upon Dawnbreaker on her left waist. "Thank you." She muttered lightly before turning back to look at Lydia.
"Are you all right, my Thane?" A question Lydia found becoming her new catchphrase at this rate.
"Yes, Lydia." Cura responded with a light smile. "Let's return to the Vigil."
Lydia was surprised to see Cura smiling after that horrific ordeal, but she was relieved by it at the same time, as it meant that she was faring well, all things considered. The Housecarl agreed and joined her Thane; the Dragonborn; a Vigilant of Stendarr; a Companion; a Champion of Meridia.
