If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The blinding light in his mind's eye flared violently. "I AM MERIDIA," the Daedric Prince formally introduced herself, her voice shaking the very foundations of his consciousness. "LADY OF INFINITE ENERGIES. THE GLISTER WITCH. THE PRINCE OF LIFE AND LIGHT. AND YOU, SHIELDED OR NOT, HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO BEAR MY BEACON."
Within the blinding, all consuming mental theater of his own consciousness, Aerion forcefully suppressed the profound, staggering relief he felt at having his true nature perfectly shielded from the Daedric Prince.
Now, he had a role to play. He was the terrified, awestruck mortal, suddenly thrust into the presence of the divine.
Aerion projected his thoughts back into the searing white light, carefully modulating his mental voice to convey absolute, staggering shock and desperate reverence.
"What... what?!" Aerion stammered, his mental projection trembling perfectly. "You are Meridia?! One of the Daedric Princes of Oblivion?!"
The blinding light in his mind seemed to shift, radiating a distinct, overwhelming aura of cosmic annoyance at the title.
"I MUCH PREFER THE TITLE 'PRINCESS OF LIGHT,' MORTAL," Meridia corrected, her booming voice echoing with lethal, vibrating authority that threatened to split his skull. "BUT MY TITLES ARE NOT THE POINT OF THIS COMMUNION. YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN FROM THE MOMENT YOUR EYES FELL UPON THE GEOMETRY OF THE STONE THAT THE ITEM YOU HOLD IS AN ARTIFACT THAT BELONGS TO ME, SHOULD YOU NOT?"
Aerion bowed his head within his mind, projecting absolute submission.
"Yes, my Lady. I realized it the moment your glorious presence manifested," Aerion replied smoothly, his maximized Persuasion matrix effortlessly weaving the honeyed words of deference. "From the ancient, restricted texts I have studied at the Arcanaeum, I know that you, and your... compatriots... often choose to manifest your will through such sacred artifacts."
The oppressive, blinding white light suddenly pulsed with a warmer, slightly more approving hue.
Meridia let out a loud, haughty, echoing laugh that rolled like thunder across the vast expanse of his consciousness. It was a terrifying sound, devoid of genuine warmth, filled entirely with the absolute, intoxicating arrogance of a god whose ego had just been flawlessly stroked.
"AT LEAST YOU KNOW YOUR PLACE, ELF," Meridia declared, clearly pleased by his immediate, groveling formality. "YOU CALL ME 'MY LADY' WITH THE PROPER REVERENCE. GOOD. I FAVOR A MORTAL WHO UNDERSTANDS THE INFINITE GULF BETWEEN THE DIRT THEY WALK UPON AND THE HEAVENS I COMMAND."
The light suddenly sharpened, focusing into a piercing, demanding beam that felt like it was physically burning into the center of Aerion's forehead.
"NOW, HEAR MY ORDER, MORTAL," the Daedric Prince commanded, leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. "AS I HAVE DECREED, A FOUL, NECROTIC DARKNESS HAS SEEPED INTO THE DEEPS OF MY TEMPLE AT MOUNT KILKREATH. YOU ARE TO BRING MY BEACON BACK TO THE MOUNTAIN. YOU WILL PLACE IT UPON ITS PEDESTAL, AND YOU WILL CLEANSE THE DARKNESS FROM MY SANCTUARY AS MY INSTRUMENT OF CLEANSING LIGHT. YOU WILL DO THIS, OR YOU WILL BURN."
Aerion kept his mental posture rigidly respectful. He had just received the quest. But he had absolutely zero intention of dropping his incredibly lucrative, meticulously planned macroeconomic strategies in Whiterun to go trudge through a mountain temple filled with corrupted shades just yet.
He needed to delay the goddess without insulting her.
"I hear and obey, Lady Meridia," Aerion replied, his voice a paradigm of respectful obedience. "However... if I may be so bold as to ask a question of logistics. Must I abandon my current path and travel to Mount Kilkreath immediately this very second? Or am I granted a measure of time to fulfill this sacred duty? I have several highly important mortal matters in the central holds that require my immediate, personal attention to prevent catastrophe."
The blinding light instantly flared violently, turning a harsh, angry, burning yellow. The mental pressure crushed down on him like an ocean trench.
"MORTAL MATTERS?!" Meridia roared, her fury absolute. "YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME OF TRIVIAL MORTAL POLITICS WHEN MY TEMPLE IS DEFILED?! OF COURSE YOU MUST DO IT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! I HAVE COMMANDED IT!"
Aerion did not flinch under the divine wrath. He engaged his systemic Charisma, twisting the narrative to appeal directly to her ego.
"I will do it as soon as I physically can, Lady Meridia," Aerion promised, injecting a tone of desperate dedication into his thoughts. "But please, in your infinite wisdom, grant me the time I need. I do not wish to fail you. If the darkness in your temple is as foul as you say, I must make the proper preparations. I must acquire specific alchemical reagents, forge stronger holy wards, and make my magic vastly more potent. I only delay so that when I arrive at Mount Kilkreath, I am a weapon truly worthy of acting as your instrument of cleansing light. I simply wish to ensure your victory is absolute."
The profound, crushing silence that followed was agonizing.
Aerion waited, his mental breath held. He had framed his delay not as defiance, but as a zealous, perfectionist desire to serve her better.
Deep within his systemic interface, the golden text cascaded rapidly.
[Persuasion (+1) Leveled Up 9 Times! Current Level: 19]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 96!]
[You have gained 1 Attribute Point!]
He had successfully argued with a Daedric Prince and survived.
The harsh, burning yellow light in his mind slowly cooled back down to a brilliant, pristine white. The crushing pressure receded.
"VERY WELL," Meridia finally conceded, her tone dripping with haughty, condescending grace. "YOUR DESIRE TO PERFECT YOURSELF FOR MY SERVICE IS... ACCEPTABLE. GATHER YOUR STRENGTH, MORTAL. FORGE YOUR WARDS. BUT DO NOT TARRY OVERLONG. MY PATIENCE IS VAST, BUT IT IS NOT INFINITE. WHEN YOU ARE READY, THE BEACON WILL GUIDE YOU TO KILKREATH."
Without another word, without any formal farewell, the telepathic connection was violently, abruptly severed.
Aerion's physical senses rushed back to him all at once. The smell of ancient dust and ozone filled his lungs. The damp, freezing chill of the crypt bit at his skin.
Aerion let out a massive, ragged, incredibly relieved sigh. He slumped slightly forward, his shoulders dropping as the sheer, terrifying mental weight of the Daedric Prince was lifted from his skull.
"Patron! Patron, can you hear me?!"
Jenassa's gravelly voice cut through the ringing in his ears.
Aerion blinked, his golden eyes refocusing on the physical world. Jenassa was standing directly in front of him, her crimson eyes wide with genuine panic, her hand gripping his forearm tightly.
"I... I hear you, Jenassa," Aerion murmured, straightening his posture and smoothing his dark robes to regain his aristocratic composure. "I apologize. I was... temporarily occupied."
"Occupied?!" Jenassa snapped, releasing his arm and taking a step back, her chest heaving slightly. "You have been standing completely frozen in absolute silence for three full minutes! Your eyes were glowing white, and you were completely unresponsive! I called your name a dozen times! I was half a second away from slapping you across the face to break whatever curse that stone had put on you!"
Aerion looked down at the glowing, geometric white crystal still resting innocuously in his palm.
"A slap would not have broken the connection, I am afraid," Aerion explained, his voice returning to its normal, melodic cadence, though heavily laced with exhaustion. "You could not wake me because my consciousness was not entirely in this room. I was speaking directly to her."
Jenassa froze. The anger drained from her face, instantly replaced by profound, superstitious terror.
"You were speaking... to the Daedric Prince?" Jenassa whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She looked around the empty, ruined throne room as if expecting the Princess of Light to suddenly manifest from the shadows. "What did she say to you? What did she do to your mind?"
"My mind is entirely intact, I assure you," Aerion reassured her gently. "She did not attempt to break me. She merely issued a mandate. Because I was the one to touch the artifact, I have been 'chosen' by her light."
He held up the glowing Beacon. "She commanded me to bring this artifact to her ancient shrine at Mount Kilkreath, located in the mountains near Solitude. Her temple has been overrun by some form of necrotic darkness, and she expects me to act as her instrument to cleanse it."
Jenassa stared at him in absolute, unadulterated shock. "And... are you going to do it? Are you truly going to follow the orders of a Daedra?"
Aerion offered a highly pragmatic, entirely emotionless shrug. "How exactly could I say no, Jenassa? She is an immortal cosmic entity. If I simply threw the stone into the chasm and walked away, she would undoubtedly send her 'Purified' minions to hunt us down to the ends of the earth. Dealing with an endless horde of blindingly bright, immortal assassins interfering with my business ventures sounds like vastly more of a headache than simply walking into her temple and clearing out the shadows."
He paused, offering a reassuring smile. "Besides, I managed to negotiate a highly favorable timeline. We do not have to march to Kilkreath today. She has granted me the time necessary to prepare."
Jenassa let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking her head in profound disbelief. She ran a hand over her scarred face.
"I swore an oath to serve you, Patron," Jenassa stated, her voice returning to its professional, gravelly baseline, though a hard edge of finality underscored her words. "I will follow you into ancient tombs, I will do your biddings, and I will gladly butcher bandits for your gold. But I must be absolutely clear. The moment I see that you have been taken by the Daedric Prince, the moment her light infects your mind and drives you to madness or servitude, I will consider my contract void. I will leave you to your fate."
Aerion respected the boundary entirely. It was a perfectly logical stance for a mortal to take.
"You have my word, Jenassa," Aerion agreed solemnly. "If I ever begin speaking in booming, echoing voices and demanding you praise the light, you have my full permission to take your gold and walk away. I will handle Meridia."
With the crisis averted, Aerion opened his digital void and dropped the glowing crystal inside.
[Item Acquired: Meridia's Beacon]
[Inventory Weight Increased by 0.95 KG]
The moment the artifact vanished into the spatial pocket, the heavy, oppressive aura in the room dissipated completely.
"Right then," Aerion clapped his hands together, shifting back to business. "Before we depart, I have some internal administrative matters to attend to."
He opened his system interface, checking the backlog of experience he had accumulated during the brutal, protracted fight with Warlord Gathrik prior to touching the Word Wall.
[Destruction (Fire)(+2) Leveled Up 10 Times! Current Level: 54]
[Conjuration (Summoning) Leveled Up 8 Times! Current Level: MAX]
The massive exertion of maintaining four Frost Atronachs against a boss-level entity had finally pushed his Conjuration matrix to its absolute zenith. He mentally bookmarked the skill, intending to initiate the Legendary Prestige protocol later that evening.
Furthermore, the massive influx of experience had tipped his overall level scaling once again.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 97!]
[You have gained 1 Attribute Point!]
Aerion gathered the newly acquired attribute point, combining it with the three he had saved in his reserves, bringing his unspent total to four.
He didn't hesitate. Facing the raw, magical demands of the world required an ever expanding well of power. He funneled all four points directly into his Magicka.
The sensation was intoxicating. A rushing, cooling wave of pure, volatile blue energy flooded his neural pathways. His mental capacity expanded drastically, feeling as though the physical dimensions of his brain had just doubled in size. The arcane currents of the world became sharper, clearer, and vastly more accessible.
[Magicka increased by 40! Current Magicka: 570/570]
"Excellent," Aerion murmured, feeling the raw power thrumming just beneath his golden skin. He turned toward the exit. "Let us leave this tomb. The Jarl of Whiterun is waiting for his gold."
They did not utilize a secret exit this time; there were no hidden levers to bypass the sprawling architecture. They had to backtrack entirely.
Aerion, Jenassa, and Lupin walked back across the massive boss chamber, passing the smoldering, decapitated corpse of Warlord Gathrik. They descended the long stone stairs, stepping over the shattered bones of the skeletal horde.
They retraced their steps flawlessly. They walked through the long mural hallway, stepping carefully over the perforated floor tiles where the iron spears had thrust through the stone. They passed through the square chamber, the massive bonfire still roaring in the center, and walked back up the winding stairs to the second floor.
They crossed the wooden suspension bridge where Jenassa had held the chokepoint, the planks stained with the black blood of the horde they had slaughtered. They moved back through the trapdoor room, the iron gate, and finally reached the antechamber where the heavy steel portcullis had been raised.
Stepping out of the ancient Nordic masonry, they re entered the natural ice caves. The charred, foul smelling remains of the Frostbite Spider colony crunched beneath their boots as they navigated the final, winding icy tunnels.
Finally, they saw the bright, natural light of day piercing through the gloom ahead.
They stepped out of the freezing, shadowed maw of Ironbind Barrow. The howling blizzard of the previous day had completely broken.
The sky above the jagged peaks of the Pale was a brilliant, crystal clear blue. Based on the sharp angle of the shadows casting across the snowdrifts, Aerion calculated it was rapidly approaching noon.
Standing patiently in the shelter of the rocky pass, the thick woolen blankets keeping them warm, were Revan and Jenassa's bay horse.
"Good timing," Aerion noted, breathing in the crisp, fresh mountain air.
He removed the blankets, rolled them up, and tied them to the saddles. He scooped Lupin from the snow, tucking the fox into the leather saddlebag, and mounted the towering black destrier. Jenassa swung up onto her horse.
"We ride southwest," Aerion commanded, pointing toward the distant, unseen plains. "Directly to Whiterun."
With a synchronized flick of the reins, they spurred their horses forward.
The ride down from the treacherous, icy peaks of the Pale was vastly easier than the ascent. They navigated the winding mountain passes with practiced ease, following the topography downward until the packed snow slowly gave way to frozen dirt, and eventually, the golden, rolling grasslands of the central tundra.
Aerion kept a strict eye on his digital system map, charting the most efficient path. They bypassed the Nightgate Inn entirely, cutting across the open plains and avoiding the main, cobblestone trade roads to maintain a low profile.
After more than two hours of hard, continuous riding, the towering, majestic silhouette of Dragonsreach finally appeared on the horizon, perched high atop its massive stone outcropping, overlooking the sprawling city of Whiterun below.
As they approached the outer vicinity of the city, passing the first few outlying windmills and small farming plots, Aerion suddenly pulled Revan to a halt.
"Jenassa, hold," Aerion called out.
The Dark Elf stopped her horse beside him, looking confused. "We are nearly at the gates, Patron. Why are we stopping?"
"Logistics," Aerion replied smoothly. "If we ride directly up to the Jarl's throne and I suddenly manifest the results of our looting this past couple of days just out of thin air, Irileth will have a mental breakdown and accuse me of Daedric summoning."
Aerion pointed toward the sprawling, fertile fields of Pelagia Farm just a few hundred yards away. He could see the distant figures of Torsten and Titus, doing training with the other mercenaries and just talking with each other.
"Ride ahead to Pelagia Farm," Aerion instructed. "Find Sinmir, or one of the boys, and acquire three or four large, heavy burlap sacks. Empty grain sacks will do perfectly. Bring them back to me immediately."
Jenassa understood the theatrical necessity instantly. "Procuring the props. Understood."
She spurred her horse forward, galloping down the dirt path toward the farm while Aerion waited patiently in the tall, golden grass.
Ten minutes later, Jenassa returned. She rode up beside Revan, tossing a bundle of four large, heavy, dust covered burlap sacks over to Aerion.
"Sinmir says to ensure they are returned. He needs them for the autumn wheat harvest," Jenassa relayed dryly.
"He can buy new ones with the gold I am about to secure," Aerion chuckled, catching the heavy fabric.
He didn't stay on the path. He led Revan off the main dirt road, guiding the warhorse deep into a thick copse of autumnal birch and pine trees, ensuring they were completely out of sight of any passing Whiterun guard patrols, Khajiit caravans, or wandering travelers.
Aerion dismounted smoothly, instructing the horses to remain still. He laid the four large burlap sacks out flat on the dry, golden grass in the center of the trees.
"Now," Aerion murmured, rolling up the sleeves of his dark, immaculate robes. "Let us prepare the visual evidence of our incredibly grueling, hard fought expedition." He opened his digital inventory interface, selecting the heaviest, most mundane items he had looted over the past two days. With a series of soft, popping sounds, items began to physically materialize from the void, dropping heavily into the open sacks.
_____________________________
[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion
Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 400/400 Stamina: 400/400 Magicka: 570/570
Level: 95 ➝ 97
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+2)/Lightning(+1)/Frost) (Level 54/19/89), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 76/MAX), Alteration (Level 35), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/MAX), Persuasion(+1) (Level 19), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 33), One Handed (Level 76), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 35), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 34), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 70), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force), Tiid (Time), Krii (Kill), & Feim (Fade)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Steel Dagger, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Ancient Nord Bow, Dragonstone, Ancient Nord Battleaxe Of Blaze, Potion of Minor Pickpocketing, Golden Staff of Flames, Parchment Rolls Of Mammoths Farm And Loan, Golden Emerald Circlet, Copper Sapphire Circlet, Ebony Claw, Orcish Dagger, Emerald, Sapphire, Silver Garnet Circlet, Jagged Crown, Elven Sword Of Lightning, Elven Shield, Circlet Of Peerless Alchemy, Ancient Nord Boots, The Mirror, Glass Sword, Ring of Pure Mixtures, Staff of Magelight, Grand Soul Gem (Filled), Iron Gauntlets of Smithing, Reanimate Corpse Tome, Honed Ancient Nord Greatsword of Cold, Elven Armor of Bountiful Health, Staff of Lightning, & Meridia's Beacon
2x Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, Silver Amethyst Ring, Silver Necklace, Gold Emerald Ring, Potion Of Ultimate Magicka, Common Soul Gem (Empty), Weak Magicka Poison, Gold Garnet Necklace, Scroll of Guardian Circle, Ancient Nord Helmet, Black Soul Gem (Empty), & Elven Sword
3x Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, Scroll Of Fireball, Glowing Mushrooms, Potions of Minor Stamina, Silver Ruby Ring, Gold Ruby Ring, Amethyst, Silver Ingot, Quicksilver Ingot, Black Soul Gems (Filled), & Silver Garnet Necklace
4x Potions of Minor Magicka, Spider Eggs, Iron Ingots, Gold Ingots, & Garnet
5x Lesser Soul Gem, Dwarven Metal Ingot, & Ruby
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 149.39KG / 500 KG
Septims: 85,204