A/N: Events of chapters 10 and 11 take place simultaneously.

Chapter 11

Ivan

"Good afternoon," Ivan said with a curt nod upon entering the lecture hall where the new batch of apprentice mages stood waiting for him. The Khajiit stood a little distance off from his classmates. He has confidence, Ivan thought. It was probably a good thing. The Nord, he noted, was looking up at the architecture in wonderment, a smile playing across his features. He looked happy. The Dunmer, however, was fidgeting with her fingers and shuffling her feet. Nervousness due to lack of self confidence, Ivan concluded. Having thus silently judged them, he smiled and sat down cross legged on the floor. "Please, take a seat. You don't have to stand."

Awkward glances were shared among the three apprentices before the Nord cleared his throat and asked, "You want us to sit down?"

"Unless you don't want to," Ivan shrugged. "I just thought standing for the entire duration of the class would be taxing on your leg muscles. However, if you feel like you can manage, who's stopping you?"

Ivan patiently waited as more awkward glances were exchanged before the Khajiit shrugged and sat down, followed soon by the Nord and the Dunmer.

"Good. Now then, I suppose introductions are in order." Ivan clapped his palms together. "My name is Ivan Asarsen. I hold the post of Assistant Master Wizard at the College. Simply put, it means I'm the unofficial bitch of Mirabelle Ervine," he deadpanned resulting in a smirk from the Khajiit, a chuckle from the Nord and a small smile from the Dunmer.

"Moving on," Ivan cleared his throat. "My job here is to sit at a desk and sign my name on documents relating to the College's funds, job requests from outside, student applications… that kind of thing. It's… irritating to say the least. So when they told me I had a class to lecture, I jumped at the opportunity. Anything is better than that."

He paused before continuing. "So that's that about me. Now, I want a short introduction from you three. Nothing too fancy. Your name, likes, dislikes, reasons for joining the College and future ambitions. That should suffice. Now then, who wants to go first?"

He glanced over his students again, noticing how the Khajiit and Nord were ready to show off their over eagerness. The Dunmer clearly needed a boost of morale. If she saw how confident these two were in their abilities, she would subconsciously retreat deeper into her shell. And he would have none of that.

"How about you?" he asked while looking directly at the female Dunmer with a soft smile. "Do you want to tell us a little about yourself?"

She was clearly caught by surprise. "M-me?"

"Indeed. I'll be a gentleman and let ladies start first," Ivan kept his smile firmly in place as he said this.

The Dunmer girl bowed her head, blushing slightly. When she looked up again, she was smiling determinedly. "My name is Brelyna. Brelyna Maryon."

The introductions went along smoothly after that. All three of them had withheld information from him, and that was perfectly fine with Ivan. He would get to know them better with time. After J'zargo had concluded his short introduction, Ivan remained silent for a short while before breaking into speech.

"You three are naturally gifted, and have the talent and fortitude to pursue and hopefully achieve greatness in the field of magick." He said, "So tell me, what do you think magicka is? Any idea?"

Onmund was the first to answer. "Magicka is the accumulated life force of dead organisms which mages tap to convert into magical spells."

Ivan looked at Brelyna next who took it as her cue to answer. "Well, there's a theory which states that when Magnus created Mundus, he, uh, unintentionally tore a hole into Aetherius. This sort of allowed magicka to… umm, flow through the stars. I think."

J'zargo was ready to speak the moment Ivan turned to look at him. "According to legend, magicka is what's left of Magnus' power when he was all but destroyed in the creation of the mortal plane."

Ivan sat silently for a while longer before breathing out deeply and rubbing his palms together. He then smiled. "You people are pretty well versed in this. Congratulations." I approved your applications, I would know.

He looked at the smiling faces of the people before him. Such a shame, he thought to himself.

"Unfortunately, that won't be enough."

The smiles vanished instantly. Ivan went on undeterred. "The problem with you people is that you think you know so much. Sure, I don't deny it. You've been apprentices to some very big names, I'm sure. You might even have the talent to bring down a dragon by yourself for all I care. But that's what you do outside. Inside these walls, we educate you. We shape not only your abilities, but also your mind. Shaping a mind that is already full to the brim is a rather tiresome job, if at all possible." He paused for breath and smiled again. "Therefore, what I'm going to ask of you is to empty your mind. I don't really care if you're a Master level mage in one or more disciplines, but here, we're going to start from the basics all over again. If you feel this is unnecessary, you are free to leave."

Silence was all he received from the other end.

"Good. You understand." Ivan nodded sagely. "And speaking of basics, magicka is basically energy. It's a form of energy which can be moulded to suit our various needs. Nothing more, nor less. For example, this is raw magicka."

So saying, he held out his palm. A purplish-hued vapour started rising from Ivan's palm, and though it was very faint, it was enough for the three students to make out.

Ignoring their muffled noises of wonderment, Ivan went on. "Raw magicka is without form. You can't properly use it until you focus it into a fine point before projecting it. Your mind must be able to clearly visualise the shape and form it wishes to achieve. Only then will you will be able to enforce it. But enough theory. Let's me show you."

Ivan smirked and clenched his outstretched hand into a fist and pulled it back. Light radiated from between the gaps of his fingers before Ivan thrust out his palm and with a strange crackling sound, a diamond-shaped spike of solid ice flew out of it. It whizzed between the heads of J'zargo and Onmund, who were sitting next to each other.

"And now for the grand finale." Ivan smirked, resulting in the three apprentices turning around to see what was in store for them. Just as the ice spike was a couple of feet away from colliding against the double doors of the Hall of the Elements, Ivan clicked his right thumb and middle finger together.

The reaction was instantaneous. The ice projectile imploded and burst into flames. The flames divided into four separate jets and swirled around along the walls of the great hall before shooting up towards the ceiling, meeting each other at the very top and vanishing completely.

"How in the name of everything wonderful did you do that, sir?" Brelyna wet her lips before asking, her eyes still stuck on the ceiling. J'zargo and Onmund's dumbfounded expressions mirrored Brelyna's inquiry.

Ivan only chuckled. "Please, no need to call me 'sir'. You can call me by name. I'm only twenty-six, after all. As for that little trick, well, that's my secret."

"Oh please, you only used remote alchemy to separate the constituents of ice, and then combusted one in another. It's a cheap parlour trick, if anything, and frankly, it's getting old."

Ivan sighed. "Must you insist on exposing my tricks to every new batch, Mira?"

"Your fault for using the same trick every year," Mirabelle Ervine, Master Wizard, spoke with a smirk as she strode into the Hall. "And that's Miss Ervine to you, Assistant Master Wizard Asarsen. And as for you three," she looked at the apprentices who had by then got to their feet, "Tolfdir has something special planned for all of you. Though I won't spoil it, Tolfdir did say he needed an assist-"

"I'll do it." Ivan didn't even know what Tolfdir wanted when the words left his mouth. Oblivion, anything the old lunatic had up his sleeve would be better than sifting through paperwork.

"Not going to run away from me?" Mirabelle asked as she walked up to Ivan. The three apprentices had by then shuffled out of the Hall, leaving the Master Wizard alone with her subordinate. Ivan didn't reply, instead lying down flat upon his back on the polished floor.

"What's the point?" he said after a while. "You'll just dump more paperwork on me when you do find me."

"I'm glad you finally acknowledge that fact."

"How can I not? You even me make do your paperwork. Oblivion, I'm surprised I'm not doing the Arch Mage's paperwork by now."

"Someday, perhaps."

Ivan turned his head to look at the Master Wizard. He found her leaning against the vertical beam in the centre of the hall, looking down at him. She was smiling at him, serenely.

Ivan sat up. "Yeah, someday."

"Something the matter?"

"Just thinking about what the crazy loon has planned. But before I go," Ivan looked directly at her, "How about a little kissie, Miss Ervine?"

"Impatient, are we?" Mirabelle Ervine answered with a small laugh as she walked up to Ivan and held out her hand. "You'll just have to wait until nightfall, as usual. But right now, your presence is required elsewhere, Assistant Master Wizard."

Ivan chuckled and shook his head before accepting her hand and rising to his feet. "Yes, ma'am."


Harkon

Despite what most others thought, Harkon Volkihar was a kind hearted man. He was sympathetic, patient and lenient. He was also very approachable, allowing any and all members of his court to approach him with issues.

Loyalty was something he held in high esteem.

So when he smelt Fura Bloodmouth outside his chambers, about to knock, he saved her the hastle.

"Enter," he said lazily. He was sympathetic and kind-hearted, after all.

"Lord Harkon," Fura said, fist pressed over her chest solemnly after crossing the threshold and closing the door behind her. If she was intimidated, she scarcely let it show in her voice.

"Ah, Fura. What news do you bring?" the vampire lord asked rather cheerfully. "Has Vingalmo poisoned my blood vial? Or has Orthjolf hired some dastardly bastard to aid him in his cause to overthrow me, hmm?"

Fura's lip quirked just a bit, but she masterfully wiped it in a fraction of a second. Impressive.

"No, my lord, the court has raised some questions regarding your son, Lord Firo."

"Indeed?"

Positioning himself before the fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back, Harkon focused on the flickering flames. He had been wondering when this particular topic would be referred to him. He had been waiting for it, in fact.

"Permission to speak freely, my lord?"

"Of course, Fura. I'm no tyrant to be feared."

Oh how he loved that line.

"Some members have raised... doubts regarding Lord Firo's loyalty to our cause," Fura began, head bowed slightly. "They state that it is suspicious how he was only survivor of the Dawnguard assault during the attempted retrieval of the Bloodstone Chalice. That event by itself would not be suspicious but he was also the sole survivor of the assault on the Vigilants." A pause. "We also have only his word about how both those events took place."

"I can certainly see the reason for concern among the masses," Harkon said without moving an inch from his spot. "And what do you think, Fura? Do you think my son a traitor?"

The female vampire looked down at her boots. "It is not my place to judge, milord."

"Exactly," Harkon murmured as the closed the five feet separating him and Fura in a flash, startling the girl. He proceeded to curl his index around her chin and tilted her face upwards. "It is not anybody's place to judge another, for they should know well their place in court. As you do, Fura. How I wish everybody could follow your example."

"My lord – I –"

Letting go of his most loyal follower, Harkon Volkihar allowed himself a smirk. "Tell the court that they have no reason to panic. Necessary steps shall be taken as and when required."

"Of course, milord!"

When she had scuffled off to do her duty, Harkon resumed his endless pacing. "Valerica, you've cursed me from beyond the grave," he muttered. "Hid your daughter, hid yourself, and left your son in my ranks so that he could turn traitor in time. Nothing less I'd expect from my wife."

Do not fly too close to the sun, Firo-boy, lest your newfound waxen wings melt. The fall will be something you'll never recover from.


Omiq

Morthal was a dreary place. There was a nip in the air, announcing the imminent and speedy arrival of winter.

Omiq shivered in spite of the insulation his robes and fur provided. The hamlet had a veil of... disquiet about it. Something just wasn't right. Years of instincts screamed at him that something was horrendously wrong, but the Khajiit brushed them off. Whatever Morthal's problems, they weren't his. Not right now, anyway.

Crunching the snow beneath his boots, the Khajiit strode over to a small, isolated hut under the cover of darkness. It was a journey he had not made in some years.

He knocked on the door twice in quick succession before he could check himself. Some habits really do die hard, he thought with a smile.

The door opened to reveal a sour-looking Redguard, whose expression soured further upon seeing Omiq. "You," he said simply.

The Khajiit offered his most winsome smile. "It is indeed this one, nya. How has the Redguard been?"

"Skip the pleasantries and drop the accent. Whaddaya want?"

Omiq merely tilted his head to one side. "It'd be better if we talk inside, Falion."

The Redguard raised an eyebrow and steeped aside to allow Omiq to peek inside. The latter obliged, and was surprised to see a young Nord girl, hardly in her teens, fast asleep on a bed. The sight made Omiq raise his brows instead.

"We'll talk outside," Falion said and Omiq nodded. The Redguard then closed the door softly behind him.

"Dare I ask?" Omiq asked as his contact led him off into the marshes.

"The girl? She's my apprentice. Name of Agni. She's a good girl, if a bit... spirited."

"Never thought I'd see the day where you took an apprentice, Falion," Omiq commented as the Redguard sat himself on the stump of a recently felled evergreen. "Always figured you were the type to disappear off to Akavir or Yokuda or even Atmora for that matter."

"And I figured you died in Helgen. Funny how figuring works, doesn't it?"

The Khajiit smirked and leant up against a tree, facing his associate. "I've come to consult you, Falion. It's your specialty. Vampires."

"Our specialty, you mean," the Redguard mused, stroking his beard. "You could've been Grandmaster of the Order, Omiq."

"And you could have been Lorekeeper, but here we are," Omiq replied and flapped his hand, waving off the Redguard's words. "Do you know anything about the bloodsuckers having a prophecy about blotting out the Sun?"

"Nope."

Omiq chuckled reflexively. "I tell you that vampires are trying to blot out the sun and you respond with a damn monosyllable!"

"Yes, well, I've seen and heard a lot of strange things. If the vampires are indeed planning something like that, I would not be very surprised," the Redguard said, even as the corner of his lips twitched into a grin. "But seriously, how did you even know about this?"

"Oh, a vampire told me."

"Yeah. I'm not even going to ask."

The Khajiit snickered. "Anyway. Since you don't know, I'm out of leads. You got any I could use?"

"Hmmm. Remember old Caius?"

Omiq grimaced. "If a fifty year old man throws a coconut at a vampire's mug and tells it to suck on said fruit, I think anybody would have a hard time forgetting."

It was now Falion's turn to snicker. "Yes, well. There's always that. But anyway, old man Caius has a daughter. She's a priest of Arkay down at Riften."

"That I know."

"Caius was the Loremaster before he died. If he knew something, he'd have journalled it. Your best bet is to talk to Alessandra. See if you can get your hands on the journal."

Omiq whistled. "Well. I'll see what i can do."

Nodding, Falion rose to his feet. "Glad to help, Now, if you'll excuse me, I have left my student alone long enough," he said and glanced at his cottage. "I wish you-" the Redguard began but stopped upon noticing that the Khajiit had already disappeared. Falion harrumphed.

"I hate that cat."