Soul Tear

An Elder Scroll Fanfiction

Journal of the Arch-Mage Sildriel

7th day of the Sun's Height, 4E 201—

The unpleasant business regarding the Thalmor has been dealt with, with no minor amount of patience. First Emissary Elenwen was rather tenacious even after my refusal in assisting them with the annihilation of the rebel Ulfric Stormcloak. She visited my quarters three times within the week. No matter her persuasive words; she began to grow irritating, like alcohol dripping onto a scratch. My tolerance thinned perilously to the point of scorching the Altmer, thus I ordered Savos-that blessed Master Wizard-to keep the Thalmor agent out of the College; no exceptions. I imagine the mer is furious. However, no means no. The Thalmor will be welcomed in the College, as long as there is no discussion of the war with the Stormcloaks. I am busy enough as it is.

All to the recognition of the Thalmor, I have fallen days behind on my schedule. I am to leave immediately to Morthal. Word has reached my ears that Falion had settled there some time ago. I intend to persuade him to enter back into the College. I am in need of his skill for curing vampirism. Students tend to be careless while practicing their spells and experiments in caves. His student, Phinis, has yet to discover such a skill.

Savos and Mirabelle have been eyeing me since I announced my departure. They whisper to each other continuously and follow me wherever I move. It seems they fail to recall that I behold sharper hearing than men, and I have heard the word 'Thalmor' thrice upon their tongue. They suspect the Thalmor to assault me in my journey through anger. I disagree, for not even the Thalmor are so mindless; however, I shall remain on my guard for their comfort.

The sun is rising and so I must take my leave.

"Arch-Mage!"

Sildriel suppressed a frustrated sigh at the cry of his title, casting a weary glance at the sky. Already the clouds were graying, portending the fall of snow. The Bosmer wished not to be caught in the middle of the snowfall.

He turned to find Savos, the Dunmer Master-Wizard, rushing towards him, his robes flapping in the harsh winter breeze. He held an expression of discomfort sternly camouflaged, and Sildriel would not have recognized it if he had not known the mer for as long as he did. Once the Dunmer reached him, he bowed respectfully. Sildriel privately frowned at Savos's formality; the Wood Elf had ordered Savos to greet him as an old friend, not a stern superior.

Smiling kindly at the Master-Wizard, Sildriel asked in a calm tone, "What is it, Savos?"

Almost immediately, the Dunmer opened his mouth before clamping it shut, avoiding Sildriel's gaze. The Arch-Mage waited patiently for Savos to gather his thoughts and arrange them in his own desired fashion.

"Sir," he began and Sildriel's smile wavered, "I request that I accompany you on your journey."

"And why, Savos, do you wish to do so, especially on such a simple mission?"

Savos frowned and muttered, "If you deem it to be such a simple mission, would you not have a student complete this task other than yourself?"

It was tempting, yes. Sildriel had much more important duties to focus on, such as a certain investigation at Saarthal, an ancient Nordic tomb. However, Falion and the Bosmer knew each other well, and it would be difficult for an unfamiliar mage to persuade Falion to return to the College of Winterhold. It would be much less problematic for a friend to greet the Redguard mage; the friend being at the rank of Arch-Mage would indeed be a bonus.

"No," Sildriel finally answered. "It is best for a recognizable face to carry on the task. Otherwise I doubt the Redguard will be swayed."

Desperation crossed the Dunmer's face and he retorted, "I have known the man for years!"

Sildriel impatiently glared at the sky. He was losing daylight and this meaningless skirmish was not aiding him at all. "Why are you so intent on keeping me from my journey?"

Savos's face softened, realizing he was placing great strain on his Arch-Mage. In a softer tone, he said, "Times have grown dark, my friend. With a Civil War brewing, bandits scour the lands in search of lone travelers."

"So you fear bandits shall attack me in the night?"

"No, I do not. At least, it is not the bandits I fear."

Sildriel knew precisely what Savos was to say next, but he made no move to interrupt him.

"After that Thalmor agent was sent off, I've heard…happenings. Thalmor agents have been sighted near abandoned structures and tombs, in search for something. I've seen them in Winterhold, eyeing the College distastefully and muttering amongst themselves. They don't seem to be fond of your decision in not aiding them in the Civil War, and yet they don't seem to be interacting in the Civil War at all. I know well not to discriminate, but High Elves have a history of attacking settlements that are not of theirs, and punishing those that do not hold their point of view."

"And you expect me to be one of these victims." It was not a question, but a statement. Savos stared at the ground, as if in shame. His expression turning grim, he nodded sharply.

Sildriel chuckled, resting a hand on the Dunmer's shoulder and squeezing tightly. "My friend, I understand your concern and am moved at your steadfast determination. However, this is an important task regardless of what I announced earlier and must be completed." Savos opened his mouth to interrupt, and so Sildriel spoke in a sterner voice, "And any threat that comes to me I shall treat as such, and I will not consider mercy. And to soothe your conscious further, I shall remind you that Arch-Mage is not just a title."

Savos sighed heavily and nodded his head in agreement. Sildriel smiled and gave his shoulder a final squeeze. "Take care of the College while I'm away," he said cheerily, before crossing into Winterhold.


The cold Skyrim wind tore through Sildriel relentlessly, showering him in snow and hail. He shivered and casted a ward around himself, pulling his Arch-Mage robes tighter around him. He hunched over his steed, which seemed to fare far better in the weather than the Bosmer. Grinding his teeth together as the chill of Skyrim bit at his face, Sildriel yearned for a storm-less night. He would have preferred to stare at the stars as he demised a plan to persuade Falion to join the College again; but Kynareth did not desire it so, throwing a blizzard in the Arch-Mage's path instead.

It was his second and final night on his journey to Morthal, which stood only several leagues away. Sildriel had been delayed in the blizzard; he had expected to have reached the city hours ago. He could not let the postponement sour his mood; the blizzard had taken a great deal of his patience already. He'd simply have to bear with it until he reached the inn.

Sildriel stared ahead, wielding his torch high above his head to guide his horse along the pathway. He squinted through the blizzard, distinguishing several silhouettes in the torrent of snow. Sildriel's heels tapped his horse's flank, beckoning it to quicken its pace. The shadows remained still as the Arch-Mage came closer, and Sildriel assumed it to be a simple traveling couple. But as he reached the forms and his torch's light touched their faces, Sildriel began cursing himself for not listening to Savos's counsel.

"Good evening, Arch-Mage," the Thalmor wizard called politely, nodding his head in respect. The four Thalmor agents surrounding him followed suit. Sildriel noticed the reluctant pause and the twist of displeasure of their features once they eyed him.

Sildriel kept his expression neutral and his voice pleasant, "Good evening, gentlemer. I hope you are in good health?"

The Thalmor wizard smiled—Sildriel noted how remarkably it resembled that of a snake's—and answered, "Yes, thank you. And you?"

"Chilled to the bone, but healthy and content. Pardon my rudeness, but I am on a tight schedule." Sildriel beckoned his steed forward again, but the wizard cut him off.

"I understand, Arch-Mage, and I apologize for any inconvenience. But our charge is as equally pressing." His smirk grew more snake-like as more shadows appeared from the depths of the blizzard. Sildriel's muscles stiffened. "You see," he continued, "First Emissary Elenwen failed to express the seriousness of our request."

I should have listened to you, Savos. Why in Oblivion do I not listen to you? "Oh?" Sildriel felt his horse stir with unease, snorting nervously. The forms grew closer, their Thalmor robes shimmering in the torch light.

"Arch-Mage, you are a powerful mer and hold a strong influence over the magically-enabled in Skyrim. Your skills could contribute greatly to our cause, and in return, you could receive the full benefits of possessing the Thalmor as allies."

"Unfortunately," Sildriel growled in a low voice, "my answer will remain the same as it was for Elenwen."

The wizard's voice turned to a more dangerous note: "I ask you to reconsider."

"I assure you my answer will not change."

He was now completely surrounded. There stood at least fifteen Thalmor, hands now flexed and poised, glaring at Sildriel with blood-thirst. Sildriel's horse was on the verge of panic, shifting restlessly and tossing its head left to right. Sildriel reached into the reserves of his own magicka, commanding it into the palm of his hand. The chill of the blizzard was non-existent now and Sildriel felt himself clenching his fists.

"That is unfortunate, Arch-Mage. Then I suppose we must take you by force."