Sound came first.
A distant ringing—thin, uneven, like glass trembling under pressure. It pulsed in and out of awareness, sometimes sharp enough to hurt, sometimes fading until it felt like it had never existed at all.
Then came cold.
Stone beneath his palms. Water seeping through fabric. A chill that did not bite, but pressed, as though the air itself carried weight.
Sivreth inhaled sharply and jerked forward.
His vision swam—white smearing into blue, blue collapsing into shadow—before finally snapping into focus with a violent clarity that made his head throb.
He was kneeling.
The basin of the Wayshrine of Illumination lay directly before him, its ancient stone rim slick with sanctified water. Faint motes of light drifted lazily above its surface, no longer blinding, but calm—almost indifferent.
"…Siv!"
Hands grasped his shoulders.
Merril's voice cracked as she pulled him back just enough to keep him from pitching forward into the basin. Her face was pale, eyes wide and unfocused, as though she was afraid he might vanish again if she let go.
Rael stood just behind her, massive frame tense, claws dug into the stone. His tail lashed once, then stilled. Golden eyes watched Sivreth with the alertness of a predator guarding wounded kin.
"I'm… here," Sivreth said hoarsely.
His throat felt raw. Dry. Each word scraped its way out like it had to cross broken glass to reach the air.
He blinked slowly, deliberately, grounding himself in sensation. Stone. Cold. Weight. Gravity. The quiet, ever-present hum of Magicka flowing through the shrine.
His body was intact.
That alone told him more than any spell diagnostic ever could.
"…You went still," Merril whispered. "For a moment, I thought—"
"I know." He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. "I'm fine. Just… give me a second."
That was a lie.
But not a dangerous one.
The pain-blocking locks he had placed on his nervous system were still active—he could tell by the absence of the sharp agony that should have followed what he had just endured.
Which meant the pain lingering in his skull wasn't physical.
It was deeper.
A dull ache threaded through his thoughts, as if something had reached into his mind and rearranged furniture without asking. No damage. No intrusion.
Just… pressure.
Soul bruising, he decided.
That confirmed it.
The trial had been real.
Slowly, Sivreth shifted his weight and rose to his feet. Merril didn't let go until he was fully upright, and even then her hand hovered nearby, fingers twitching as though she were ready to grab him again at the slightest provocation.
"I'm not going to fall over," he said gently.
"…You better not," she muttered.
Rael rumbled low in his chest, the sound vibrating through the stone floor. Not a threat. Not a warning.
Approval.
Sivreth turned his gaze back to the Wayshrine.
The basin's waters had settled. Whatever had happened within them—whatever darkness had swallowed him—was gone now, leaving behind only faint ripples that slowly faded into stillness.
He exhaled.
Checkpoint, he thought.
Akatosh's test had rules. Cruel ones, perhaps—but consistent.
With practiced care, Sivreth retrieved the Initiate's Ewer from where it rested beside the shrine. He dipped it into the basin, collecting a measured amount of the sanctified water, then set it aside.
Next came the vial.
His fingers brushed against the Stahlrim container at his side, and for a brief moment, memory surged unbidden—golden eyes the size of towers, coils of divine fire, the weight of a presence that bent time around itself.
Auri-El.
He removed the container and unsealed it with reverence bordering on caution. The vial within glimmered faintly, its contents liquid light caught between moments.
Carefully—carefully—he poured a single drop into the basin.
The water responded instantly.
Light rippled outward from the point of contact, racing across the surface before sinking into the stone itself. The Wayshrine thrummed, not loudly, but with a deep, resonant approval that echoed through Sivreth's bones.
He resealed the vial and returned it to its container without delay.
Then, as Akatosh's instructions demanded, Sivreth knelt once more and lifted the Ewer to his lips.
The water was cold.
Sharper than before.
As it passed his lips, it spread through him like a sealing wax poured over an open wound—not erasing what lay beneath, but preventing it from bleeding further.
His thoughts steadied.
The ache receded, dulling into something manageable.
The trial was complete.
For now.
Sivreth straightened and turned away from the Wayshrine just as the air beside it began to distort.
Light folded inward.
Space twisted.
And a portal bloomed into existence.
Unlike the portal that had carried them into Darkfall Passage, this one felt… aware.
Not hostile.
Not benevolent.
Simply observant.
"Come on," Sivreth said quietly. "Let's move."
They stepped through together.
The sensation of transition was smoother this time—less disorienting, more like slipping beneath the surface of deep water and emerging somewhere else entirely.
They appeared within a spiraling cavern, stone walls curving upward in a slow, elegant ascent. Pale blue light filtered down from above, growing brighter with every step they took toward the exit.
Cold air rushed in as they emerged into the open.
The Forgotten Vale stretched out before them in all its impossible grandeur.
Snow-dusted cliffs rose like the ribs of a sleeping god, their surfaces etched with ancient Snow Elf architecture that time had failed to erase. Glacial rivers carved luminous paths through the land, reflecting the aurora-like glow that danced perpetually across the sky.
Merril stopped short.
"Oh…" she breathed.
Even Rael paused, head lifting as he tasted the air, nostrils flaring.
Sivreth took it in with a strategist's eye.
The Vale wasn't just beautiful—it was stable. Magicka saturated the environment evenly, flowing in patterns too deliberate to be natural. This place had been designed, warded, and preserved long before the Falmer's fall.
To the north, unmistakable even at a distance, stood another structure.
A Wayshrine.
Unlike Illumination, this one stood fully exposed, its crystalline spires catching the ambient light and refracting it into prismatic halos that shimmered across the snow.
Sivreth felt it then.
Not pressure.
Not pain.
But the unmistakable sensation of being observed.
"Wayshrine of Sight," he murmured.
Merril swallowed. "That… doesn't sound comforting."
"It isn't meant to be," Sivreth replied. "Illumination strips you down. Sight shows you what's left."
They approached cautiously.
As they drew near, a familiar presence coalesced beside the shrine.
A Snow Elf—tall, luminous, and translucent—stood waiting, hands folded calmly before him.
"Welcome, Initiate," the Prelate said, voice echoing softly through the Vale. "I am Athring, keeper of this Wayshrine."
His gaze lingered on Sivreth, sharp despite its serenity.
"You have walked through darkness," Athring continued. "You have endured the absence of light."
He gestured toward the shrine.
"Now, you must learn to see."
Sivreth met his gaze without flinching.
"I'm ready."
Athring inclined his head.
"We shall see."
The Wayshrine pulsed, light gathering at its core.
And somewhere deep within Sivreth's mind, something shifted—quietly, deliberately—as the next trial prepared to begin.
******
Hello, yes I'm back yet again. But this time permanently...for real this time I swear!
This is a VERY BIG AUTHOR NOTE ANNOUNCEMENT for the future of this fic, and others.
I have always been facing personal difficulties for a few years now, and both physical exhaustion and mental degradation had its toll.
So ever since the last genuine update of a chapter, not the half assessed announcement previously.
I had been searching ways to finally become constant enough to both prevent bad grammar, minimise and maximise my own time so I am able to write and finally do these fanfics and even finish this fanfiction I definitely want to see to its end.
And the answer ironically, is AI. Nut not like all those shit stories or translations that kill the reading and feel of the story, so I spent months categorised all information both past, present and future of the story, and after many many...MANY tests and trials and errors.
I have finally tested it and brilliant results that shocked me actually came out, it even perfectly understands the MC and his own character and ideals and path to take including power level and I only had to do minor adjustments but that is great.
8 hours to write 3 or 4 chapters properly done in 4 minutes, and then 30 minutes reading over it and editing some parts. That right there, is not bad indeed.
And this chapter is the first result.
And now i can finally go back and re edit all previous chapters to a higher quality of writing.
It might sound cheap, but having spent nearly 7 months of preparation just to see if all this effort was worth it as of yesterday, worried if it was all for nothing, thank goodness it wasn't.
And with that I can finally prepare a Patreon, before I never did this due to the inconsistency of my updates, and I know its not worth making a patreon for people to give money only to get literally nothing in return. But now I can, and have even begun with 20 advanced chapters prepared, all in only a few hours of work. And I can even go into the hundreds of chapters in a short while. As of now its one chapter a day until I am ready, and until I have replaced edited and posted the previous chapters starting from Chapter 1.
So far the contents of dialogue was left unchanged in this chapter since it was acceptable, but the AI unfortunately, unless guided will say random shit.
Ill see you next time!