Inferno
AU: A Dragonborn starting out as a teacher in the College of Winterhold. With her own saucy past.
A plot bunny that I've been grappling with for a long time.
I
The war had finally ended.
The White Gold Concordat had finally been signed, with the heavy terms set upon the Empire. The truce was fragile and undoubtedly temporary, but the men could take advantage of the time they were given to rocover until they were strong enough to strike back against the the Aldmeri Dominion.
As of now though, the Empire was essentially crippled, the White-Gold Tower marred by scars of magic and war, and the Imperial City nearly razed to the ground in the aftermath. Dead bodies of men and elves alike, charred, broken or otherwise littered the black streets, of which even the darkest and narrowest weren't spared.
The once lively main road leading to the White-Gold Tower was eerily empty and quiet, save for the soft sounds of marching, and the rustling of cloaks. The surviving citizens looking from the distance watched in hatred at the particular half-dozen elf mages trudging down the main road from the White Tower, their famed black cloaks billowing in the air.
The silence as they continued their slow march was haunting, almost sad, as if it were mournful wraiths escorting the generals of the Dominion, instead of the fearsome mages that they once were. Their ranks were significantly thinned and the scarred faces of those marching were shadowed under their hoods. It was almost a fitting final march for the elves who were responsible for so much of the destruction in the Imperial City.
Each of their cloaks were unique; different symbols emblazoned each of them, be it ancient elvish words or signs of elements or the eye of magic. Yet they were all part of one group – The Circle.
Powerful and highly trained in the schools of magic, the mages of the Circle were one of the elves' strongest weapons in the war. Riding with the Dominion's armies, the mages of the Circle helped cut a bloody swath across Cyrodiil, leaving behind fire and death until they were finally stopped by an effective ambush engineered by the Imperial generals and the fresh Nord reinforcements who had arrived from Skyrim.
The ambush was short, and while the Imperials sustained losses, the faction of mages were nearly decimated, save for a few who managed to flee to the main army of the Dominion which was sent to conquer the Imperial City.
Out of the few was the last of the feared Three Elements of the Circle – a mage known as the Inferno. Named for her mastery over fire, the Inferno was one of the last truly powerful masters of the Circle, and a notorious mage who was responsible of much of the destruction and sorrow over the battlefield.
However, in the midst of the sacking of the Imperial City, the mage suddenly disappeared. Some say it was the Dominion's doing, as they sook to disband the hated Circle before their seemingly inevitable victory, while others said that she was simply killed, a nameless corpse on the streets by the White Gold Tower. Yet, none truly knew what happened; only that she disappeared.
Her disappearance effectively disbanded the already fractured Circle in all but name and it proved a significant loss to the Dominion. Its armies exhausted and one of its strongest weapons crippled, Emperor Titus Mede saw the tides turning and seized his chance. In what was called the Battle of the Red Ring, he defeated the elves and reconquered the Imperial City.
In the aftermath, he ordered the search of the bodies of the especially notorious soldiers of the Dominion, each emblazoned with distinct effects be it magical cloaks, rings, or brooches. They found many and hung them at the White-Gold Tower as an example.
However, there was no sign of the Inferno's crimson ring, even after two weeks of search.
xXx
30 years later
College of Winterhold
All things considered, I was living a good life. Well, as good as it can be anyway.
Being an instructor at the College of Winterhold wasn't as glamorous or fun as it would seem. Sure, I had access to the Master's section in the Arcaenum – the library – for everything I needed, and had fairly good pay, but well, I had to deal with students.
At least, the ones that were still there. Half of them went with that upstart that called herself "The Caller" to some secret hideout I couldn't care enough to remember the year before. They were always trouble to the College anyway, angering the local populace with unpleasant human experiments and whatnot. It was better that we had gotten them off our hands. They'd learn eventually anyway, that not all are as kind to them as we were.
That said, we were left with maybe only a quarter of the whole cohort – not that I ever complained – but it was a shame nonetheless. The Caller did have a silver tongue on her.
"Nerenya Adare!" Someone was banging her fist on my door. Rather rudely, might I add. "Open this door!"
"Oh by Azura, stop! I'm coming," I shouted in reply, hastily straightening my nightie to look at least presentable. I had a bad feeling it was her on the other side of the door.
Opening the door, I saw Faralda, a frown very much apparent on her face. The Altmer rarely ever frowned, so it caught me off-guard for a moment. Her pigtails are neatly done as usual, and her face clean, as opposed to my rather unruly dark hair and probably, dark bags under my eyes.
"What is it?" I sighed. Faralda always did like to wake me up like this.
"You forgot, didn't you?" She shook her head disapprovingly. "Today is supposed to be the orientation for the new students, and you are the lead instructor! Thank the Gods I came – it's in half an hour, you know."
'Oh.' I thought, staring blankly at her, as realization dawned upon me like never before. Archmage Savos Aren had already made it very clear to me that I was not to be late.
"Well? Get ready!" Faralda barked, as I came to.
Practically slamming the door in her face, I turned back and scrambled through the room, changing out of my nightie and wearing the first things I saw. Unenchanted or not it wasn't really relevant, as I always have had a deep pool of Magicka. Most of it earned of course, something which I was somewhat proud of. Somewhat.
I finally fixed my pendant on my neck, noting the small crescent moon that was glinting in the light. It had been a long time since Azura had last spoken to me. Not that I cared, though. As long as she kept up her end of her bargain, I couldn't really care less if she didn't speak a word to me for the next century.
Looking at the mirror, I felt ready. My red robes hung loosely from my neck, tied down at my waist with a belt. My face and hair looked much better – ponytails did always solve everything on that account. My eyebags were still visible, but well. My deep blue eyes would probably be distracting enough anyway. Hopefully. Putting on my enchanted ruby ring, I walked out my door, acknowledging a nodding Faralda, whose face remain impassive.
"Interesting choice of ring," Faralda noted, her eyes glinting knowingly.
I took a look, and knew instantly what she was talking about. I must've had switched out my rings the day before, somehow. It didn't surprise me – I had the habit of fiddling with that particular ring. It didn't bother me, though – these students were probably too young to be able to recognize it. I ended up shrugging, and walked on anyway – Faralda didn't speak. Instead, she simply stood there, an unreadable expression on her face.
Making my way into the Hall of Elements, I thought about what I was going to say to the new students, who were already grouped together and sitting at the centre, with an old mage – Tolfdir by the looks of it – making small talk with some of them already. The kindly man acknowledged me with a smile, which I returned. I always did like the gentle Alteration master.
"Tolfdir!" I called. "Where's Mirabelle?"
Mirabelle was the Master Wizard of the College – she pretty much ran the College, did the dirty administrative work that the Archmage couldn't really care less about. Not that I could talk, seeing that I did push a few of my classes to Faralda the year before – partly because I couldn't stand the Caller and her ilk.
At any rate, Mirabelle was supposed to be here to supervise my handling of the students. The Archmage had ordered it himself, especially after the last time I flipped out on one – thank Azura he was off the college after the Caller flew off the handle. Arrogant sod.
"There she is, Renya!" Tolfdir pointed to a briskly walking Breton, who nodded at me in acknowledgement.
"Pardon me, Instructor Nerenya, but I had a small matter that I had to settle with the Archmage," Mirabelle said, before giving me a small smile. "You may continue. No showing off."
"I'll try!" I gave her a grin.
Then, I walked up towards the new earnest students, and took a deep breath.
"Students, welcome to the College of Winterhold. My name is Nerenya Adare, and I will be your lead instructor for today," I spoke, feeling my mouth quickly drying. I was never good at this.
Mirabelle gave me an encouraging nod, and I continued. "In this College, we will teach you all schools of magic. There will be no secrets here – only the sharing of knowledge and magic. If you are willing, you will learn everything there is here, be it raising the dead, healing grave wounds or summoning a Daedra."
'Almost done, I can do this.' I pursed my lips, looking at the expectant students.
"However, magic is dangerous in itself as well, corrupting even the strongest, and we at the College will also do our best to teach you to protect yourself from the forces that you summon, or even yourselves," I told, remembering the overzealous students that met terrible, gruesome fates.
Mirabelle raised an eyebrow, and added herself. "That said, we would never ask you to stop pushing yourselves in pursuit of more knowledge, and you are very encouraged to do your own research on subjects – all of us are available to help should we be needed."
I continued. "Well, that's the general gist of it. Magic is a gift, and we will try our best to help you harness it. Welcome, Apprentices."
No applause. Was Skyrim always this bleak?
Well, it was over. Following that, it was the Initiation Test, where a few teachers would assess the students' current magical ability, and assign them as we saw fit. The Test usually involved the casting of a simple ward spell, to test their amount of magicka and strength, followed by a simple spell from all schools to test their aptitude for each.
The new batch of students well, most of them had more enthusiasm than ability. Only three had any real established experience with magic – a Dunmer girl named Brelyna, a Nord called Onmund and surprisingly enough, a Khajiit named J'zargo.
Although I did make a mental note to divert J'zargo away from my classes, and to others. The young Khajiit had somehow managed to turn his flat feline nose up when he looked at me. I was an instructor, for Azura's sake. Right then I knew he'd be someone I wouldn't really be fond of.
"You will be taking them this year – we need all the Masters we can guiding the numerous young ones," Mirabelle said. "You always liked to take experienced students, did you not? You said it'd make your job "easier". And don't think I'm not aware about you asking 'favours' from Faralda."
"Even the Khajiit?" I whined. Yes, I whined.
"Yes, even him," Mirabelle deadpanned, before her expression hardened. "Anyway, the Archmage has things he will need to discuss with you and the other staff in his quarters when the sun sets. It's regarding the matter I was caught up with earlier."
"What is it about?" I asked – I'd never seen the normally stoic Breton on edge like this.
"The Archmage will tell you there. Do not be late – this is important." I didn't miss her glance towards my ring.
I nodded in acknowledgement, and Mirabelle swiftly walked away towards the students, organizing them into various ability classes based on the test results. After that, she led them away from the Hall of the Elements, and led them to the Hall of Attainment, where they would live for the next few years. Lessons would start the next day, and while I still didn't like the Khajiit, I couldn't help but feel a little excited.
Still, the impending meeting made me uneasy.
xXx
Archmage's Quarters
It was dead silence when Savos broke the news to us.
"A Thalmor agent is coming next week?" Phinis Gestor – the Conjurations master and an arse – balked.
"Yes," Mirabelle deadpanned. "I believe the Archmage has already made it rather clear."
"That said, why now?" Faralda folded her arms, her lips pursed. "What do they want?"
There was a small pause, as the Archmage gave it a thought.
"I'm not sure," Savos said. "Apparently, it is an effort to forge a partnership between the Dominion and the College. However, if it was only that, they would have simply sent a diplomat – not an agent."
I shuffled my feet uneasily. "How do you know this is an agent, anyway?"
"Because we know nothing of him, only that his name is Ancano. After we received the news yesterday, Savos reached to his contacts, and could find nothing about him," Mirabelle had a hard expression on her face as she faced me.
Phinis quickly stared at me "How about you? Know him, Instructor Nerenya?"
"Never heard of him." It was the truth. "You know I left the Dominion a long time ago, Phinis."
"Then why – "
I cut him off, raising my voice. "If it was like that, they wouldn't bother to send an agent to us."
It was always like this with Phinis, ever suspicious of me. Of course, he had every right to be, but I was getting tired of it.
"Let Phinis finish, Adare," Drevis Neloren – the Illusions master – calmly said, stopping my impending tirade.
Tolfdir gave me a supportive smile. It was something, at least. Mirabelle sighed, and motioned Phinis to continue.
"Now then, as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," Phinis glared at me. "Why now? The Dominion never did take an interest in us. It can't be only because of the new intake of students."
There was another round of silence, as we weighed the options. As much as he was an arse, Phinis brought up a valid point.
"Regardless the reason, it would be prudent to be careful," Savos said. "Do anything and everything in your power to protect the students. Adare, I need you to take an extended holiday."
"What? Why me? I have students to teach," I protested, and Mirabelle gave me a sympathetic look. It was clear she didn't plan for this.
"Until I know what is going on, I need you out of the college – you are after all, a fugitive of the Dominion," Savos said. "And this agent might compromise you."
"But – "
"No buts, Adare. Take an extended holiday from the College," Savos firmly told, before adding with a smile. "Besides, don't you always say that I work you too hard?"
"Well, not like this," I murmured. "Eavesdropper."
Faralda laid a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Renya – we'll keep this place running. When this is over, we'll tell you."
"I'll go pack my things," I said glumly, before straightening. "But well, if you need me, call me, I guess. I'm still quite powerful."
In the background, Phinis laughed slightly, "Try not to burn anything while you're away, elf."
"Don't you worry," I smiled. "That is something I have sworn never to do... never again."
With that, I left.
xXx
One week later
Red. Black. The sound of wagon wheels. I couldn't exactly remember what was happening – only that I had a giant headache. Slowly as I came to, I noticed a blonde Nord opposite me, saying words I couldn't make out yet.
There was a terrible itch on my back, but when I tried to reach around, I found I couldn't move my arms. It was tied up in rope. And judging from my exhaustion, an enchanted one which blocked magicka. Brilliant.
I could only wonder how I got myself into this position; I was heading towards Cyrodiil to meet some contacts of mine about the Thalmor agent – I probably have better contacts than even Savos did in terms of Dominion business. That was before I heard all the screaming and shouting, and before I could even react, was knocked out by a blow to my head.
That explained the headache. I purposefully looked at my fingers however, and I was relieved when the ruby ring I wore was blank. Which was strange, as I didn't remember switching it out. It was a stroke of luck, though. If anyone from the Empire saw that other ring and the sigil engraved on it, well, I'd probably be in deep trouble. I was barely listening to the two Nords bickering in my wagon, as I wondered how I was going to escape this.
"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true high king!" The blonde nord suddenly burst out.
I thought too soon. I clutched my crescent moon necklace tightly. That was my life over, then. No way was the Empire going to spare Ulfric, after all the things he did, killing the High King of Skyrim being just one of them. And I happened to unknowingly chance upon his entourage and got rounded up together somehow.
Nocturnal's tits couldn't save me from my fate now.
xXx
A/N: As for the questlines used, they are: a bit of Winterhold/Main/Civil War. And maybe Dawnguard. Pairings will be something I'll see to later, but not now. I'll think of something – maybe a random Imperial soldier during the civil war.. hm that could be good.
Reviews are appreciated, and deeply listened to.