"Mother?" I thought to myself, feeling the darkness surround me.
This feeling was becoming all too familiar to me. I was ready for death. So many things happening to me in such a short time. I started to believe that Jorvin would have to just go on without me. I didn't want to fight anymore.
"Please," I continued my thought. "Take me to Soverngarde. Take me home."
I didn't know what had happened after the explosion at Saarthal. I put every bit of focus into myself to try and guard the force of the unstable magic that pushed out from the orb. However, the power overwhelmed me. I was sure I had died, fearing for the safety of the others. It would seem, however, that the gods had other plans for me.
"Karrick?" a voice called. "I think he's coming to."
"Thank the gods," another commented.
After a short time of regaining my consciousness, I finally began to focus on everyone standing around me. Tolfdir stood beside the bed I was laying on, while the rest of the mages flooded the room and hallway of the living quarters.
"Tolfdir?" I called out. "You're alive?"
"Indeed," he responded, walking up next to me to help me up. "It's all thanks to your actions that the rest of us can stand here today."
"I really need to stop being the one who everyone worries about," I chuckled as I stood. "This blacking out business is really giving me a headache."
Everyone in the room laughed at my horrible joke. Each of them taking turns thanking me for saving them at Saarthal. But, of course, there was the matter of the dead Thalmor agent who's blood was on my hands.
"Tolfdir, any news about Ancano and the rest of the Thalmor?" I asked, fearing for the rest of the college's well-being.
"Don't worry," Tolfdir replied. "After word got out about Ancano's actions, the Thalmor wasted no time in sending us a letter assuring us that his actions were of his very own. They even sent us a very large sum of gold as a donation and apology. More likely a way to hope that we would keep silent."
I let out a large sigh of relief. It was good to know that no more lives here would be put in danger because of me.
"What happened to the orb?" I asked.
"It was strange," Tolfdir began to answer. "After the explosion, several monks appeared out of nowhere and took the orb. One of them had asked me to thank you for your service. He said that the order would always be watching you. Do you know what that means?"
"Indeed," I replied. "During our search inside Saarthal, one of the monks contacted me and warned me about the orb. He claimed to be from the Psyjic Order."
"The Psyjic Order..." Tolfdir gasped. "They haven't been heard from in many years. Not since the island that their order resided on mysteriously disappeared."
I finished gathering myself and met the rest of the mages inside the hall of elements. Tolfdir announced that there was an urgent matter that needed to be addressed as soon as possible.
"We need a new arch-mage," said Tolfdir, giving counsel to the rest of the mages, "The college cannot survive without someone to guide it in the right direction."
"But who of us could do it?" a voice questioned from the crowd.
The group of mages mumbled to themselves for a moment before Tolfdir asked for my opinion.
"Why don't you do it, Tolfdir?" I asked.
"What?" he replied in shock. "I couldn't possibly..."
"You were the closest friend of Savos Aren," I quickly cut him off. "And nearly everyone here was taught how to use their magic by you. I can't think of anyone more fitting to be arch-mage than you."
The crowd continued their mumbling in what sounded like approval. Shortly after, the three newest students approached.
"This one seconds Karrick's decision," said J'zargo, the khajiit.
"I can think of no one better," said Onmund, the nord.
"Karrick saved both our lives and our college. If he believes Tolfdir is fit to be arch-mage, I will support his decision," said Nirya, the lady dark elf.
Everyone rose up their voices in approval to the new arch-mage, Tolfdir. I had no doubt that he would run the college fairly for the remainder of his days until finding someone worthy of taking his place.
With better understanding of my magical powers, I felt it was time for me to leave and find Jorvin. So a few days after Tolfdir became arch-mage, I gathered my things and prepared to leave.
"Are you sure about this?" Tolfdir asked.
"I am," I replied. "It's time for me to go. I still have to find Jorvin and make sure he's alright."
"Well, if you ever wish to return, you are more than welcome here." he said, bidding me farewell.
I made my way south, outside of Winterhold. I knew that if I could reach Windhelm, I could catch a carriage the rest of the way to Riften. However, my walk would be a long and tiring one. Since hardly anyone made their way to Winterhold anymore, the road was covered in dangerous wildlife. Snow bears, ice wolves, and even frost trolls. Luckily, thanks to my new magical abilities, I was able survive all of my encounters.
After walking and fighting for nearly an entire day, I finally found myself looking over a cliff side at the great city of Windhelm. Knowing that this was home of the Stormcloak rebellion, I had to make sure that I only catch a carriage and get out as fast as possible. The last thing I needed was the attention of a stormcloak rebel who might have survived Helgen and saw me with Hadvar. We both killed several of their men and women. I had no quarrel with them, but they might have one with me.
As I approached the stables, I noticed that there currently wasn't a carriage waiting for passengers. Did I miss it? As I asked around, one of the farmhands informed me that the carriage driver left the day before to take someone to Whiterun. So I had no choice but to spend the night in Windhelm. I was not about to continue walking through the night in the exhausted shape I was in from the day. Although, I would soon wish I had.
I made my way into the city, doing everything I could to keep from gaining any attention. I entered the inn and rented a room for the night.
Later that night, I got up the courage to share a few drinks with some of the locals. Each of them telling stories, spitting vulgar taunts, and even trying to make their moves on the bard. One of the nord men even tried to lay his hands on her when she refused.
"You dark elf bitch," the man growled. "We let you live in our city, and you can't even entertain us properly?"
The man slapped her and she fell to the floor. I jumped up and tackled him. We rolled around, traded punches, and even managed to damage several of the inn's furniture. Luaffyn, the bard, managed to break us up and even offered to buy the next round of mead for the both of us to calm us down. I didn't care for the drink, only that this fool of a nord needed to be taught respect.
"You fight like a real nord," the man continued. "The name's Rolff Stone-Fist. Perhaps you know my brother, the great Galmar. He's Ulfric's right hand."
"I'm afraid I don't," I replied, brushing myself off from the fight.
The remainder of the night, I had to listen to Rolff's never-ending tales about how he despises all races that are not nord. Especially the dunmer. I guess it's true that some old hatreds never end. Shortly after, I finally made my way to my room to call it a night. However, in the middle of the night, I was woke by the sounds of struggling and muffled screams.
I grabbed my blade and made my way down the hall to the next room where the sounds were coming from. When I opened the door, I was horrified by the scene. It was Rolff, and he was laying over the top of Luaffyn. Her clothes had been torn and blood ran from her mouth and nose. Her tears covered half of her face. In the struggle I could hear Rolff taunting away at her.
"Where is your hero now, elf slut?"
I wasted no time in charging at Rolff. He saw me coming and quickly jumped to his feet to fend me off. However, flesh was no shield for a blade. I ran Rolff through and saved Luaffyn from her nightmarish encounter. She quickly gathered herself to scramble out of the room. After checking Rolff's body, I confirmed that he was dead. It wasn't my intention to find trouble here tonight, but it found me.
I made my way down the hall into the main room where I found Luaffyn huddled in a corner, too scared to look at anyone. I felt bad for the dunmer. I heard that their living here was rough, but I couldn't even imagine that it was this bad. I made my way over and joined the innkeeper in helping Luaffyn clean up and get her a new set of clothes to change into.
"Thank you," she said to me, wiping the tears from her face with a cloth.
"No need to thank me," I replied. "Just get yourself cleaned up and get some sleep."
Shortly after the incident, another man and several guards busted in. The man pointed to me and started to shout, "It's him. He did it." As the guards quickly rushed in to grab me, another very large man with a grey beard and armor that appeared to be made from a bear's hide, walked in behind them. While the guards held me, the man walked through the hallway checking each room. When he entered the one where Rolff's body lay, he took a moment to come back.
When the large man reentered the hall, he glared at me with a stare of death. It was if a daedra had possessed him. He slowly walked towards me as the guards tightened their grip. When the man stood face to face with me, he looked me over as if he wanted to kill me.
"That man in that room," he said, anger overwhelming his voice. "Do you know who he is?"
"Someone who I stopped from ra..." I spat back at him before he slugged me in the face without warning.
The impact was massive, but I wasn't knocked out. My vision blurred a bit from the hit.
"Take him away," said the large man. "We'll deal with him in the morning."
The guards dragged me to the palace and down to the cells. They threw me in to what would be the most uncomfortable place I would sleep in a long time. The next morning I was awakened by two guards kicking me. When I came to, I realized I had my wrists tied together by leather straps.
The guards drug me out of the cell and back into the hall of the palace. There, they threw me in front of the throne. When I looked up, I could see three men. One was the large man from the night before, the one sitting on the throne was the one and only Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebellion. And the third man made me tremble at his very sight.
This man that stood in front of me gave me both ease and hatred in my heart. He wore the stormcloak blue-clothed covered chain-mail armor, two blades on his hips, and that all too familiar long dark hair fitted with the fine trimmed goatee on his face. His bright blue eyes matching that of mine. For all that was holy, I refused to believe what I saw standing in front of me, with his arms crossed, and that pride filled smirk. My face clenched in hatred as I could see that this man had become a stormcloak rebel. One who I feared dead for many weeks. I finally stood to my feet and let out the loudest yell my voice would allow me.
"Jorvin!"