Chapter 10: The Light That Pierced the Heavens
What initially started as a peaceful summer day of relaxing and celebrating, altered into a day of dread and grave bewilderment. While all the province of Cyrodiil is left to only rely on their imaginations, Rhonin's group is the only one that knows the truth. By summoning the grand power of the Divine Soul Gem to their tower, they have unleashed its unstable potential into the heart of the Empire itself. With it, strange events that many would connect to the Oblivion Crisis began to take root into the soils of the land.
For days on end, the Capital along with most of the surrounding areas become plagued with howling winds of fury, lightning, and thunder that makes eardrums pound in pain. Even the persistent fall of rain can be mistaken for arrows from how hard they seem to bombard the buildings and taverns. Due to this predicament, the Mages Guild was forced to cancel the festival. Worse of all, even despite the organization's efforts to uncover the source of this anomaly, whispers have already begun to paint them as the culprits. The minds of those who do not trust what they don't understand, always cling to old beliefs, even if they are bitter and nothing but stereotypes. With only two days at most before the Emporers return to the city, the pressure from the public and of the impending date begins to weigh on the hearts of all the arcane members.
Even Rhonin and his group are in distress from the anxious events following their actions. To avoid suspicion, the three take part in the studies and the spiking interest their guild has for the phenomenon. Thankfully, despite the source being but a few miles away, none have come close to uncovering their secret. At this time, the leaders of the guild are supposedly gathering with the Imperial Council to discuss the situation. The growing tension from what could transpire from such a gathering puts an uncomfortable strain on the members as they work.
For the last few weeks, members of the other mage factions have joined the ranks for the guild. Now standing as official members, the task of researching the imbalance of nature rests in their hands. At the main hall, where many come to study or dine in a delicious meal, the members' hassle and scram around one another urgently. Some have formed groups, and sit at different corners of the long tables. They unify their brain power to develop solutions for the events, and reasoning behind them. Off to the sidelines, resting with his arms crossed just outside the dining room is Arius.
His head hangs forward while uncontrollable anxiousness infests his heart and mind. The uneasy tension only grows as he keeps peeking his unsteady vision towards his frantic guild members. Due to their trance-like focus on their work, none have paid mind to him nor even taken notice to his presence. Once more when he turns his head to the groups of students, he does not catch sight of who approaches him from the side. Kressmer unintentionally steps toward him silently. He stands next to him patiently, letting his eyes wander in the hallway while waiting.
"By the nine, what have we done?" Arius questions in a hushed tone to himself.
"We took a chance," Kressmer answers just as discreetly.
As if accustomed continuously to the Dunmers light feet, Arius only gasps when looking to him. However, the moment he acknowledges who is beside him, an instant calmness alleviates him. Taking in soft breaths with his finger on his chest, he fully rotates his body to Midium.
"We did what many would consider madness," Kressmer adds on with irritation being held back in his voice. "Most importantly, we brought disorder in the form of a storm. Something I quite detest..."
"Say no more," Arius replies, agreeing to the dislike and turning himself back to the guild members. "With everyone in such a panic, it's as if the Emporer got assassinated."
"I doubt that will happen anytime soon..."
Kressmer as well pokes his head into the large dormitory. The room, along with all the scholars in it remain hectic as they scramble through their research. Arius continues to look away, due to the persistent efforts of his fellow mages to be nerve-racking. Even the Dunmer lowers his eyebrows finding this situation to be a nuisance.
"So, where's Rhonin?" Arius questions, pinching his chin with his fingers.
"He's back at the tower, studying the stone intensely," Kressmer replies when turning back to the Imperial. "While he won't admit it, he's just as deeply troubled as we are."
Midium begins to head his way down the hall, with a dull and casual look upon his face. Arius briefly watches the Dunmer take his leave, but pauses in place. The mental image of Rhonin, the youngest member of the group going through such emotional distress troubles him. Silver sighs out of empathy for his friend and follows after Kressmer. The intelligent, yet oblivious minds of the other guild members continue to work. Never knowing that what they were looking for was within their grasp.
Back at the groups keep of solitude, where the storm is at its calmest, Rhonin waits for his allies return. Within the top story of the building, the young mage for the last few days has been conducting thorough studies on the Divine Soul Stone. From its measurements of height, weight, width, and density, to even the timing of each pulse of energy within. He leaves no detail unchecked. As if glued to his palm is a journal, one that he glances at consistently to double check his precise notes of the gem.
While the large jewel appears to be tame as it produces a quiet hum, the storm outside speaks greater volumes of its might. Its serene song matches with the dim flashing that it creates. Even with its glow, Rhonin must light several candles to compensate and brighten the room sufficiently.
Despite the many days that it has lingered in the chamber, it has yet to do much of anything else. Its calming presence even affects the young Breton. The more he stares at it, the more he finds himself becoming hypnotized by its peaceful aura. Upon placing his hand onto the smooth surface of the gem, his vision becomes black from shutting his eyes.
With his awareness of his surrounding nullifying, Rhonin is unable to pay mind to what is occurring in front of him. As if reaching out to him, a faint mist of energy begins to flow from the stone. It silently envelops his hand and travels along his arm. Even with the stone's grasp on him and his mind, he does not sway from their connection. He and the gem are on the same wavelength, with him peering into the core of the godly jewel, and vice versa. The image of Mathys's desires becomes manifest. The fog swirls around his pointer finger, with such speed that it glows to form an illuminating ring.
It is the sound of doors slamming shut that returns Rhonin to the waking world. Witnessing the white Magicka coating his arm alarms him. He takes a step back while pulling his hand away. When directing his eyes to his arm, the mist vanishes along with the image around his finger. However, the exceptional vision does not bring him discomfort but instead makes him feel astonishment. For a moment, he became one with the crystal and held an essence of its power within his hand. In his head, it wasn't the temptation of power that gave him delight, but the internal connection that fuels his fascination.
"Would it kill you to socialize, Rhonin?" Arius shouts as he stomps in a hurry, up the metal staircase.
The haughty Imperial sprints to the Breton's side as he reaches the top floor of the building. Kressmer, with his humble posture, follows behind him.
"Well, when the entire city is in a panic, it's hard to mingle," Rhonin replies, brushing his hair to the side while walking toward the nearest table. "Speaking of, how are things back in the Capital?"
Arius and Kressmer are hesitant to answer him. They look to one another to see if either one had a proper response. With a soft cough to clear his throat, Arius steps forward.
"Not as good as we were hoping for," he informs the Breton when walking next to him. "While the guild is in a panic, they have yet to come close to uncovering anything. However, it's only a matter of time before their investigation leads them to us."
While Silver passes the news off to Rhonin, Kressmer stands in close quarters with the stone. With his hand lifted to touch the pointed end of one of the shards, he slides his palm down its smooth layer. He stares dispassionately with his eyelids resting nearly shut at the light within the heart of the rock. Unlike Rhonin, he doesn't receive the same intertwining bond. Instead, from under his palm, an intense force protrudes from the gem. His hand trembles as he briefly resists its barrier of energy. Once removing his hold on the stone, he takes a look at his steaming palm. His flesh has no considerable harm done to it, to which he shows little care for this reaction.
"Rhonin," Arius releases a breath of guilt when saying the name. "I know you want to make everything perfect, but we can't risk waiting any longer."
"What are you suggesting, Arius?" Kressmer, now joining their group chat, heads over to them.
Pressing and sliding his hands together while pacing, Silver ponders a proper way to respond. Rhonin and Kressmer, enduring the passing time with ease, watch him as he intensely thinks.
"What I am saying, is we need to accelerate the process..." He states his opinion with his arms out and while tilting his head.
"Are you mad?" Kressmer questions in a soft but baffling tone.
"No, I believe I'm behaving quite logically," he instantly responds rushing up to the stern Dunmer. "With so many searching for answers about this storm, it's only a matter of time before they pinpoint the source!"
"So you wish to rush an already risky and delicate experiment?" After stating his rhetorical question, Midium places his right foot forward.
Back in the same situation as long ago, he lowers his gaze down onto the impatient Imperial. The two lock their eyes onto one another, for a split moment, they are quiet, with each one having a different expression. Kressmer remains showing little enthusiasm for the younger mage's brash thinking, without trying to be threatening. While Silver's body becomes tense, he leans his head backward as he peers into the lifeless red eyes of disappointment.
"A grunt with a pickaxe touched the stone and caused an earthquake," the Dunmer reminds the group. "Picture what would happen if we meddled with the stone, just as carelessly as the court wizard did?"
"Not only would we be risking our lives, but the lives of all the civilians in the Imperial city, and possibly all of Cyrodiil..." Rhonin predicts as the terrible thought looms in his head.
At the sound of his friend in distraught, Arius turns his head back to the Breton. Upon glimpsing the already troubled looking mage, a weight of regret drops on his chest. Silver lowers his head downward. While his voice is deaf to all ears, his actions speak of his apology for his forceful intent. A relieving sigh leaves his throat as he brings himself back up.
"What do we need to do to start this ritual?" He asks in a humble tone.
"When I was looking into the story about Shalidor and the axe Conquest, there was a picture of the enchanting circle he used," Rhonin informs as he attempts to cover his unsettled state. "Unfortunately, he designed it to where there was only one conduit, himself."
Grabbing a stick of chalk, the Breton lowers himself to the ground. Poking the pointiest end into the floor, he drives it to form a circle around himself. The light screeching echoes and stays trapped within the dome, but only agitates the Imperial. He rubs the inside of his ears while Mathys stands himself up.
"He stood in the center, and drew the power from the soul gem," he explains further into detail while directing his fingers to his sketch. "And directed it at the eye of the enchanting circle, where the axe was resting. I would need to replicate and add on to the design, or else we could accidentally create a bomb, or worse."
"Which I'd assume would take time?" Arius asks, but already believing he knows the answer.
Rhonin, with regret, gives a speechless nod in response to the unwanting question. At that moment, Arius can't help but shake his head and crosses his arms with distaste at the predicament. Even Mathys directs his pupils in a different direction to hide his dislike as well. While they mope in the hushed room, an intriguing thought comes to the Dunmer's mind. Kressmer, out of curiosity, breaks the stillness of sound in the chamber.
"You said that the conduit was standing above the axe?" He asks while stepping forward.
"Uh, yeah, Shalidor was," Rhonin clarifies, in confusion for why the detail is essential.
"And how did he guide all of the magical energy to the core of the ritual?" Kressmer moves forward another space.
"The sigils and markings work like channels and ley lines, to guide the Magicka to the center." Rhonin once more points down at his drawing.
"So instead of trying to remake Shalidor's pattern, just add two more focal points for mana to originate from."
"I get it!" At the revelation of the implications they bounce off one another, Arius interjects while snapping his fingers.
His impromptu act and his sudden movement towards the stone pull his comrades' attention. They watch as he opens his arms up to the Divine Soul Gem. The light of the rock makes his already bright grin shine even more.
"We'll turn the stone into the conduit!" Silver projects anticipatedly and in delight of the idea. "If we stand at the different spots around it, and channel our magic at it, the Gem would pour its enchanted energy directly into the ring!"
"If I'm adding to Shalidor's original concept, I can most definitely finish before the end of the night!" Rhonin adds on with just as much excitement as Silver.
"Now, let's not let our imaginations get the best of us," Kressmer comments as he holds his hand out to sooth their exhilaration. "We may have an idea of what measures to take, but we must accomplish those tasks as carefully as possible. Any missed details, and great ruin could doom us."
His tender yet skeptic approach alleviates the two younger mages'. At the sound and understanding of his perspective input, Arius and Rhonin stand firmly in place and nod in agreement. Their respectful stances, make the Dunmer smile proudly for their approval. He to bows his head to them in appreciation.
"Good," he comments in content. "So then, what is the next step, Rhonin?"
The many weeks and time spent around Arius and Kressmer have made his confidence flourish. Formerly inclosed and very ill when it came to socializing, now Mathys has earned his place and established his identity. As his friends look to him, he no longer pauses when contending to his shy demeanor and thoughts. This time, he turns to them full haughty with what lies in store for their plans.
"Gather all of the tomes with enchanting inscriptions that you can find, while I start marking the floor with the ritual circle," he kindly requests with a smile.
"Okay, which enchantments are we using?" Arius responds, leaning forward in anticipation.
"All of them!" Rhonin, moving and placing his hands onto the Imperial's shoulders, responds with the same excitement.
The eager Breton wanders off to collect his needed supplies, not realizing that his comment has left the others in a puzzle. Arius's eyes widen as he attempts to wrap his mind around the possibility. Even Kressmer's lips hang open by the absurdity, as well as lift a single eyebrow.
"All of them?' Arius questions as he turns his head back to the cheery Breton.
"Of course," Rhonin replies with his arms holding a series of scrolls, papers, and charcoal. "With the size of the stone, one could easily fit the inscriptions onto it! Plus, with our tactic to use crystal shards to etch the writing into it, we don't have to worry about the energies within leaking out."
Even with Mathys's explanation, the math of the idea does not stick with Silver. Briefly, he scratches his smooth, pointed chin as he ponders this plan.
"Is it even possible?" He asks with dubiousness in his voice.
"Given how Rhonin was able to make a ring with four different enchantments, I see why not," Kressmer adds with a grin.
"Well, I guess we've done crazier," Arius submits to the ludicrous plan. With his head shaking side to side, he chuckles gleefully at the thought. "Let's get to it then!"
As the three make a single nod in synch, they walk off into alternate directions of the chamber. At long last, the time has come to make their preparations. Weeks, almost months of research and hard work, have broadened their minds in preparation for this night. Either due to their endeavors of surpassing the old Mages Guilds defenses, the countless tomes that they have read through, or by the kind hand of fate, the three are now more than ready for the final phase, the last trial. Whatever happens tonight, the world will either revere them as Arcane Masters, or as a trio of madmen.
As instructed, Arius and Kressmer lift several stacks of novels and manuscripts containing the needed knowledge. They open and skim the old pages, and memorize each inscription that depicts different enchantments. Holding thin, crystal shards in their fingertips, the two begin to etch the symbols into the large rock. Thankfully, as they do so, the Divine Soul Stone does not have an adverse reaction. As they carve into its dense exterior, thin vapors seep out, only to vanish within a few seconds. While Kressmer's reach is not to hindered by this task due to his height, Arius frequently uses a stool more often than the Dunmer to boost himself.
As they work on the Soul Gem, Rhonin works just under and around them. Taking what notes he has, and what pages of sigils he looks through within Shalidor's Grimoire, he recreates and adds to the Arch Magus's old concept. All of the pages are laid out in front of him, with the journal of the Arch-Mage open beside him. Through his calculations and his quick thinking, he passes off between looking at the notes and then marking the floor with his pointy clump of charcoal. Initially, he crawls underneath the massive rock to draw the core of the circle right under it. By his design, he creates thick, swerving black lines that join at the middle point.
Several hours pass, time that none of them could keep track of due to their concentration. During such a lapse, the storm outside has yet to give sway and continues its remorseless fall. Most of the Imperial city has fallen to blackness, as the harsh rain prevents the light from torches and some firepits from remaining active. While most of the capitals civilians have called it a day and now reside in their homes, many guards stay at their posts, looking out to the damp and flooding land around them.
Now, even the Mage Tower, where Rhonin's group reside is shown no mercy by the harsh rainfall. As if sensing what is about to commence, the stone summons the fury of the wrath torrent right over their heads. Using tables and sacks of flour, Rhonin and the others fortify a blockade to prevent any water from coming in. Thankfully, they were also able to block the skylight with planks of wood and more duffle bags of powder. Sadly, this won't hold for long. Time is of the essence, and the group knows this, but can't help but basque in what they have accomplished.
Every inch of every shard that forms the Divine Soul Stone bears the markings of every enchanting symbol and inscription. No longer does the gem illuminate white, but every color to represent every effect that the mages carved into it. Despite the grand alteration of its energy, the beautiful hum does not fade and still fills the chamber. Beneath it, is the work of art that Rhonin crafted to use as an extended enchanting circle. The most notable details are a series of rings that hold each symbol for a different school of magic.
The spiral image of Illusion, the angelic bird of Restoration, the burning hand of Destruction, the ever-changing tree of Alteration, the haunting crest of Conjuration, and the prismatic blade of Enchanting all intertwine and converge into the center. Connecting them and guiding them with black lines and a triangle at the heart of the ritual, is the all-seeing eye of Mysticism.
"My hands hurt from all of that carving," Arius comments with his fingers shaking.
"I think all of ours are," Rhonin adds on, agreeing while brushing his long hair to the side. "But It's all paid off as far as I can tell."
"I've got to say, that Shalidor was quite the genius."
Without any previous consent, Arius takes the Arch Magus's Grimoire from the Bretons belt strap. However, as he lifts the book to his eyes, the magic placed upon it activates. In the palm of his hand, Cyan blue energy reshapes the tome. The red leather cover and all of its encrusted jewels vanish and revert into the torn and color devoid cookbook.
"What the-" Silver shakes his head at the startling spell's effect. "How to make a sweet roll?"
"It would seem that Shalidor is picky with who he chooses to read his book," Kressmer comments after having a hushed chuckle. "Perhaps you have yet to prove yourself."
Midium with a smooth swing of his hand swipes the tome out of the Imperial's fingers. With the same sleight of fluid movement, he returns it to Rhonin's belts slot.
"I can't just take a peek?" Arius questions with his hands upward in the air. "You're an illusionist after all. Surely you can remove the spell, right?"
"Of course, but I consider it blasphemous to undo a dead man's work, as well as discredit his judgment," Kressmer explains pinching two of his fingers together as he pokes fun at Silvers eagerness.
"Are you two done?" Rhonin questions, with his fingers over his lips to prevent himself from laughing. "If so, I believe there is only one thing left to do."
"Indeed," Arius replies with his hands resting on his waist.
Without any second thoughts, the Imperial turns his back to the group while heading to one of the corners of the room. Kressmer and Rhonin watch in patience for the grand reveal. As he walks, the sky screaming storm reminds them of its presence. Thunder and lightning boom in their ears as it strikes just beyond the tower. This disturbance troubles Rhonin, making him place his hood over his head as he concerningly looks to the sky through the thick glass. Even though the Dunmer does find the occurrence outside to be troubling, he pays none of his full focus to it. Instead, he remains vigilant and with his eyes on the Imperial.
Atop one of the few tabletops, is a neatly folded, thick, tan cloth. The same fabric a weapon and armor smith would wear as an apron. Arius approaches it, for a moment he looms over it as his mind rambles over what lies within.
"After I gave the blacksmith all of our failed rings, he did me a kind favor," Silver informs them. With his fingers shaking, he slips them beneath the folded rag. "He melted them all down and using the sturdiest of the material, created as he put "a bond that could never break."
With the fabric resting in his palms, Arius turns back to the others. He takes careful steps to ensure that what he holds does not slip off his hands. His head is tilted forward when approaching the others out of precaution.
"But, unlike the others, this one is different in another way," Silver adds on right as he stands before the group.
Using the tips of his fingers for careful movements, he steadily unfolds the cloth. As he undoes each corner, a solid shape in the middle becomes more transparent. Due to his ominous implications, Kressmer and Rhonin loom close and over the rag. As a furious bolt of lightning blasts through the air above the tower, Arius reveals the mysterious item. Now staring down at the object, the Dunmer and Breton can now relate with the Imperial's uneasy feeling.
With the cloth covering Arius's hand, what rests neatly on it is a ring of ebony-steel. Unlike the rest of the other failed copies, with a silver metal inside, this circlet is the embodiment of the color black. Even as the flashes from the storm howl above, the lights do not reflect off the solid ring. Such unnatural darkness and the furious twilight haunting them causes an unsettling feeling in Rhonin's heart. A puff of cold air blows from his lips, while Mathys stars at the jewelry.
"I see what you mean," Rhonin speaks with little breath. "Even with no effects on it, it's almost haunting to look at."
Like plucking a loose hair, Kressmer snatches the ring from the cloth. He juggles it around his fingers as he takes great interest in every grim detail on its smooth exterior.
"Let us hope that the power bestowed upon it will change that internal negativity," he speaks with optimism. "As well as be thankful that it can endure more than the others."
In one swift motion, he clenches his fingers around the ebony band. With no more interest in the item and with his hand open, he presents it to the Breton.
"Would you care to do the honors?" He asks Rhonin with a discreet smile on his face.
Even as the elder mage attempts to pass him a hint of confidence, Rhonin's heart cannot rest so easily. His pupils shake as he gazes at the black circlet. Not only is it the ring that forces this mood on him, but also by what they ask of him. To take the lead and guide them through the process of creating the ring. With a breath of fresh chilling air to calm him, he tips his head down accepting the proposition. He reaches to the Dunmers hand, sure of his bravery to add the final piece of this experimental puzzle, he slides his fingers around the item.
"You guys have been there from the beginning," he says as grateful as one can be. As his words go on, an emotionally vulnerable side surfaces. "I can't thank you both enough... I may have started with a rough draft, but with your insight and help, now we can finish this together."
"Indeed," Arius replies, placing his hand on the Breton's shoulder to soothe his tearful appearance. "We're just as honored to be here with you, as you are with us!"
"The truth couldn't be more accurate," Kressmer adds. With one arm to his waist and the other on his back, he gives a gracious bow. "I thank you, Rhonin Mathys, for granting this old man such an experience."
The Breton is incapable of fighting the urge to smile at their encouraging words. Brightly grinning, he softly nods to give his thanks in return. He too holds the ring in his tight grasp. Both his mind and heart are hardened with zeal to accomplish his long-awaited goal. He marches forward to the stone, not even batting an eye at the booming thunder around him. Within arms reach of the crystal, he lowers himself to move beneath it. There, the symbol of Mysticism, where the core of the ritual rests. Within its black pupil, he tenderly places the ring onto it.
"Okay," he speaks as he pushes himself back onto his feet. "Now, it's time we get into positions!"
Out of worry for the storm potentially growing worse, he dashes toward the others.
"Arius, I need you to stand on the Conjuration sigil on the other side of the stone," Rhonin urgently informs while pointing in the needed direction.
"Consider it done!" Silver assures as he sprints to the location.
"And I'll take it I need to stand on the Illusion crest?" Kressmer questions, already thinking a step ahead.
"Correct!" The Breton answers cheerfully at the clever Dunmer.
The two split off and head in opposite directions to their designated spots. Rhonin places his feet down onto the Alteration symbol, but with all three members in the enchanting circle, a glimmering event occurs. Each of the sigils that represent the schools of magic glow their respected shades under them. Along with these array of colors, includes a dim white light that borders the edges of the black lines. This immense glow touches every crevis and cranny of the chamber. Thankfully, the tinted glass making up the shell of the room shrouds this display.
As if anticipating this bright result, they take little care for the vibrant hues around them. Their eyes are all set on the Divine Soul Gem, and what their plans are with it.
"Once we concentrate all of our Magicka at the stone, the markings and symbols will serve as a current," Rhonin explains while gesturing the details. "Like a stream, all of the energy in this room will converge into the center, where the ring is."
"And that's why we're in these specific spots," Arius comes to realize. "Because of our skills in these particular elements."
"Precisely! Also to help fuel the spell, so that none of the energy from the stone bleeds out and wastes away."
"We must remain firmly planted where we are until the ritual is complete," Kressmer includes by his deduction of the magic. "So no matter what happens, hold your ground!"
Even as they have full clarity on the rules in place, a spark of hesitance stands with them. The same thought comes to all of their minds. After everything they have been through, they have finally attained their desired places. A hint of disbelief reaches to their souls. With each one glancing at the other, they all basque in a delightful grin.
"Whenever you guys are ready," Rhonin tells them, with a sigh of content following after.
His words of consent don't immediately sway them. He too remains shy of action and waits for someone else to make the first move. Kressmer, while more than willing to take the lead, stands idle. Out of showmanship, he quietly stays in place along with Mathys. Unlike the others, Arius can hardly contain his eager desire to accomplish this task. With a hard clap of his hands, the Magicka within him becomes manifest.
Golden and Violet energy forms on his hands, and seep in between his fingers. His arms tremble as he pulls the opposing powers from one another. Kressmer and Rhonin smile at their prediction coming true. Following just behind, the two of them mimic his actions. Magicka in the form of a mist and an angry fire take shape in each of the Dunmer's hands. For Mathys, he calls upon conjoining powers of dark yellow and green shades in his right grasp. With the other, a pink and white fluctuating flame.
With their arms spread out, Rhonin, Kressmer, and Arius take one last look at one another. Nodding to queue that they are ready, they synchronize in action. Thrusting their arms forward, the might of their Magicka blasts into three beams of power. Upon contact with the Divine Soul Stone, the radiance of the rock intensifies. In its wrathful state, the room rumbles as its power becomes free. The chains and shackles that hold the crystal rattle and ring in their ears. Furiously lashing outward, the unsaturated force within blows outward. However, the precautions of the spell circle contain what does fly out.
What was a cloud of energy, slowly forms into a vortex. The whirlwind becomes thinner and thinner with each second. From the efforts of the mages' and their spell incantation, they keep it at bay. Now the tornado of power becomes compressed to a layer just over the crystal. As they had intended, the vitality of the stone descends and gently merges with the ring. The band is the only thing in the chamber that does not shake from the effectual spell.
Unbeknownst to them, a far more dire event was taking place. As the ritual proceeds, the storm that plagues the land recedes. The rapid calming of the weather alerts the attention of the Imperial city. Torches ignite all around the capital, and even the civilians are waking to investigate. The streets fill with people as fast as they swelled with water. Even members of the mages guild make their way outside from the alarming occurrence. However, what the people high above see, concerns them just as terribly.
Off in the mountain range where the Mage Tower rests, the eye of the storm has narrowed its assault. The black raging clouds spiral overhead at the call of the stone. Lightning and harsh rain bombard the sanctum. The flashes of light present the tower as clear as day. In the eyes of all who witness this abnormal pattern, now suspect where the source originates. Off to the side, Mirabelle, Enthir, and the other members of the guild watch in awe. With decisive reasoning, they all suspect who is at fault.
Back in the tower, the Divine Soul Stone relentlessly fights back. Harsh winds form in the chamber and gust in all directions. The unending quakes have yet to cease as the spell continues. Even so, the mages' do not yield. Their feet have yet to be set off balance by the gems actions. Nor does their supply of Magicka give out. While Arius and Rhonin clench their teeth from the difficulty of the ritual, Kressmer only frowns sternly.
Suddenly, a flash of red peers in Rhonin's peripheral vision. Looking down, he notices an unintended effect.
"Something's wrong," he comments in a pessimistic tone.
It's not long after that both Kressmer and Arius discover the same sight. Before their eyes, spurts of red energy burst from the ring. While it stays within the eye of the Mysticism symbol, the band uncontrollably flips and vibrates.
"What's going on?" Arius asks fearfully out loud.
"It doesn't matter!" Kressmer shouts in a commanding aspect. "We can't stop now, or else we'll lose our only chance at making the ring!"
The unforeseeable outburst from the Dunmer startles the younger mages. While this behavior is unusual to them, this doesn't make his statement any less accurate. After taking a glimpse at one another, Silver and Mathys come to agree with this choice. Without letting anything else distract them, the three of them press on. Even with the stone growing more aggressive towards them, they keep their channeling Magicka going. Unfortunately, their efforts would prove futile in the end.
Due to the chains and shackles being in physical contact with the crystal and its raw energy, they slowly begin to break down. The metal rapidly rusts and cracks by the unrelenting force. In time, the Magicka from the gem consumes the links and plates holding it at bay. In the blink of an eye, the metal bonds become powder. The flash and burst of debris blind the three. With their arms over their faces, the mages' are forced to cancel their spells.
However, another surprising act happens. The Divine Soul Stone levitates in place. Without the need of magical force, the gem pours its power into the ring. As it does, the once beautiful diamond gradually blackens. It's physical form withers and cracks just as the chains were. The mages' unable to prevent what is unfolding due to exhaustion, stare questioningly. The last thing they see is the stone fade into dust.
Before any of them can react, a surge of yellow and white light overcomes them. Even as the group blocks themselves once more, this action would do them no good. This explosion of raw Magicka shatters through the dome. All the people of Cyrodiil watch as a beam of energy launches into the sky. Many are mesmerized by it, while more are terrified. Overall, everyone's frozen in place as they helplessly observe. What they did not know at the time, was that they weren't the only ones to witness this. After this night, all of Tamriel would speak of the light that pierced the heavens.