Chapter Twenty-One: The Opportunity
"It's not often that we welcome guests to our gates, usually just those wishing to enroll at the College. But for the Dragonborn I believe we can make an exception.", a short-haired woman of about forty years said to Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen as they walked through the open campus of the College of Winterhold. Young aspiring mages wove in between them carrying books and leather bags on their way to other classes. She opened a door and stepped into a huge stone tower that had a winding staircase ascending several stores up. In the middle of the tower on the ground level sat a blue burning fire, similar to the ones that lit the campus. Despite the unnaturalness in color, it felt warm and inviting. The woman made her way up the flight of stairs, the three of them tagging closely behind and taking in everything around them. "We should have two or three bedrooms available, however.", she added.
They passed multiple bedrooms, most with two beds to each room. Some were empty while the students were in class, a few were filled with mages studying books and scrolls at their desks. Students sat in corner tables and talked amongst themselves or marveled at beautiful gems and potions they've proudly concocted themselves. The woman led them to a room that had two large beds on either side of the walls.
"I stand corrected, unfortunately this is all we have at the moment.", she said as she walked into the room and lit the candles resting on the dressers with her fingertips. "If you need anything, just come find me. My name is Mirabelle Evans and I'm the court mage here.", she said as she gave them a warm smile and began to walk out of the room. Fayleen followed after her.
"Would I be allowed to sit in on some classes?", she asked the court mage. Mirabelle's soft face turned apologetic.
"I'm sorry, only students are allowed in classes. However, Tolfdir is known to teach his lessons outside in the courtyard when the weather is tolerable. I couldn't stop you from walking by and catching a glimpse.", Mirabelle replied with a smart smile. "Tolfdir is the only other Breton admistrative mage here besides me."
Fayleen perked up. "I'm a Breton, my mother was an Imperial and my father was a Thalmer." Mirabelle's face lit up with curiosity and she went to brush Fayleen's black curls behind her tall elven ears.
"You don't say? I would've guessed you a High Elf with those ears. Ah yes, I can certainly see Thalmer in you. You are a lucky Breton. My mother was a Bosmer and father a Nord, you can't even tell I'm half Mer. I look rather dull.", she remarked with a slight giggle at herself. "Did your parents study here?"
Fayleen recalled her father's gentle guidance as he taught her simple destruction spells down by the Hjaal River when she was a young girl. He could freeze the water that lapped at the riverbank, then liquify it again with a blazing torrent of flames. She nodded.
"My father did...Macremir Elsinorith. He studied as a mage and apprentice under Arch Mage Savos Aren.", Fayleen answered. It's been a long while since she's said her father's name out loud. Mirabelle's eyes widened and she scanned Fayleen's face.
"You're an Elsinorith?", she quietly asked. Fayleen nodded, a bit confused.
"I've got something that may interest you then, it's down in the Arcaneum.", Mirabelle told her.
"What's the Arcaneum?", Teldryn asked from the doorway of the bedroom.
"It's our library, and much of the ancient knowledge of Skyrim is kept in those bookcases.", she answered him.
"That's just the place we were looking for.", Katara spoke up.
Mirabelle Evans led them to the other side of the College and into the Arcaneum. The smell of old books filled their nostrils upon pushing open the doors. Mixed with the lit candles resting atop benches, tables, shelves, and hanging chandeliers from the huge vaulted ceilings - it made for quite a relaxing atmosphere. The place was quiet as some mages sat at tables with their noses buried in a book. The three of them marveled at the large elegant bookcases and shelves that were filled to the brim with every book ever written, spell tomes, potion scrolls, and biographies as they followed Mirabelle around the Arcaneum to one bookshelf in particular.
"E...El...Elsinore...ah, yes. Elsinorith. Here we are.", Mirabelle said in a hushed voice as she thumbed her way across the spines of a few dozen books until she landed on the right one. She carefully slid out the dusty book and wiped off the cover with her sleeve. She placed it in Fayleen's hands.
Fayleen read the cover, "Elsinorith, Macremir". All apprentices and mages that have studied at the College have their achievements and tenure spent at the school recorded for reference. Talking about her father made her miss him terribly, more so than she had in years. Holding a physical documentation of such a big part his life and who he is was a bit overwhelming for Fayleen. Mirabelle noticed.
"Keep it, at least until you all leave. You don't have to read it here.", she gently said, then she clasped her hand on Fayleen's shoulder. "You're father was a good man. We both studied under Savos Aren.", she said almost motherly. Fayleen's eyes glossed and she clutched the book closer to her.
"Thank you, Mirabelle.", was all she could quietly muster.
Teldryn stepped closer to Fayleen and wrapped his arm around her waist. He gave her a genuine smile then turned back to Katara.
"Let's get that Elder Scroll, yes?", he said to her. Mirabelle cocked her head in curiosity.
"The Elder Scroll? That's what you're here for?", she asked.
"Yes, who could I speak to about it?", Katara replied. Mirabelle looked around at all the bookcases.
"Well, you're in the right place. But you'll probably need to speak with Urag go-Shrub about it. He'd know more about it than I.", she answered, pointing to a large desk on the other side of the room. "I'm afraid I've got to get back now. I'm sure I'll see you around.", Mirabelle answered them as she turned to leave with a smile. The three of them nodded goodbye to her and made their way to the man who she pointed at. He had his back turned to them and was transferring books from one wooden cart to another. He was wearing a dark orange robe with a vest-like shirt underneath, the white of it peeking out from under the river. His desk was littered with strewn about scrolls, books, and a couple quills.
The man sensed that the three of them approached his desk and he spun around, three large books in his hands.
"Huh? What? What do you want?", he gruffly asked. His voice was raspy and upon seeing his face they could tell he was an Orc. His greenish flesh, protruding bottom incisor teeth, and defined brow combined with his stocky physique gave him away. Hay-like hair wrapped in a small ponytail sat tightly on his large head, and his nose was stunted and resembled that of a pigs snout. No doubt he was a native from the providence of Orsinium like most Orcs. Katara was caught slightly off guard by both his abrupt greeting and the fact that he was even here at the College, Orcs were a race not gifted with an inclination to the arcane arts. They were a people who believed in hard labor, often working in ore mines or bruting around the forgotten roads as a mercenaries and bandits...certainly not the Master Archivist of the Arcaneum for the College of Winterhold.
"Uh, my name is Katara. I was told that you have something I may be looking for.", she stammered with Teldryn and Fayleen at her back. Urag go-Shrub furrowed his large brow and set his books down on the counter.
"Yeah? Well, it looks as though you've already helped yourself to something of mine.", Urag answered back as he nodded to the book in Fayleen's hand.
"Watch it, Orc.", Fayleen replied quickly with a glare. He groaned.
"Any way, what is it that I have that you may need?", he asked Katara, crossing his arms.
"I was told you keep the Elder Scroll here.", she replies quite quickly and with a hardened face. Urag's eyes widened and he searched her face for moment, then his toothy scowl turned into an uproarious laugh that bellowed throughout the silent Arcaneum.
"The Elder Scroll? Of course I have it. It's in the safest spot it could be in all of Tamriel. What of it interests someone like the likes of you?", he smugly asked as he glanced at the three of them up and down. Katara looked back at Teldryn and Fayleen, who were glaring at the grumpy Orc. She took a breath and leveled her temper, which was beginning to spike from his rude demeanor.
"Do any of your prestige books tell you about the Dragonborn?", she asked him almost rhetorically and in a whisper. Urag's eyes flicked up to meet Katara's. His face went expressionless but only for a split moment.
"Of course I know of the Dragonborn. A mortal that most philosophers believe were born with the blood of a dragon and have the ability to harness the power of the Voice, like that Stormcloak traitor just to the South of us - he 'Shouted' down High King Torygg, they say. But according to the senile Nords, Alduin - The World Eater, will return to our plane to reclaim the land for him and his reign of dragons." When Urag gro-Shrub relayed his knowledge to them, he did so with a passion underlying in his raspy voice. Although he was a rude and curt man, the Orc had smarts about it.
Katara searched his face for a moment and upon awaiting her response, Urag - being the smart man he was - pieced it together. He nodded at her.
"So you're her, you say? You're the Dragonborn? I was expecting...more.", he remarked with one brown raised in speculation upon her basic iron armor and heavy brown bear pelt. Teldryn and Fayleen stood behind her and she swore they had their hands placed on the sheathes of their weapons, scowling at the Orc librarian.
Katara tried to brush him off, she had gotten good at that since being abducted from her home on Solstheim just a couple months ago. She nodded to him and even tried to offer a small smile.
"Aye, that's me. The Greybeards have guided me here to the College...the Elder Scroll is needed in defeating Alduin. Do you see?", she gently answered him. His face quickly scrunched up and he turned to pluck a book from one of the carts behind him.
"And what makes you think I'd just give it to you? We're talking about one of the most sacred texts known to man...known to Mer...Orc, Argonian, cat, what have you..."
Katara's face quickly hardened again at his lack of understanding for the severity of it all. "I know it's asking for a lot but I - "
"Do you even understand what an Elder Scroll is?", he asked almost gently, cutting Katara off. He extended the book out to her over his tall desk. It was thick and a bit dusty, green in color and leather bound. Katara glanced up at him then carefully thumbed the book open, scanning the pages. Her face twisted to one of confusion after strumming from page to page, Teldryn and Fayleen curiously leaning over her shoulder to peek.
"Is this some sort of joke? What is this gibberish?", Katara asked Urag. Hundreds of old pages that were filled with nothing but odd symbols and jumbled letters. It was an odd language that none of them have ever seen before. She passed the book back to Urag.
"That's a book written in Dovah, ancient Dovah actually - believed to predate mankind. The Elder Scroll is written in this language, and there's only a select few that are able to read it, it's a gift you're born with. Those that have the gift have called themselves Moth Priests.", he answered.
"And where would we find such a skilled person?", Teldryn spoke up. "I've heard of Moth Priests, they're rare, you know."
"Perhaps a Dragonborn could understand it...", Katara thought for a moment. "I am born with the gift of dragon blood."
Urag gro-Shrub squinted his eyes at her again. "It's not that simple, girl.", he growled at her. "Even if you can, there are consequences. Being able to read the Elder Scroll has caused Moth Priests to go blind - sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently. Are you willing to risk your eyesight, Nord?"
Katara stared at him. "If it meant I saved us all, then yes.", she looked him up and down. "Or I could turn around, hop on a boat back to the Skaal, and forget about the lives of people like you. I'd love to go back home, you know."
Urag scrunched his face angrily and huffed as he shoved the gibberish book back into the cart and grabbed a few small scrolls off his desk and plucked them into the vest of his robe.
"Don't come bug me again.", he said with a scowl on his face as he braced the handle of the cart and pulled it behind him on his way around the room and down into a hallway that led to his chambers.
Katara was already halfway out of the Arcaneum, frustrated at the old Orc.
*Windhelm*
Aventis Arentino pushed a rickety wooden cart carrying cabbages and leeks down the broken stone back alley roads of Windhelm. It was always freezing down here, people could see their hot breaths in the air. Most people wore tattered and dirty clothes and smelled musty. Aventis had found himself sneaking down to the mouth of the ocean sometimes on his way back from his visits with his father, he'd dip his hands in the freezing cold water just to cleanse his face and arms for another day. Most of the people living in Fleabottom were not as hygienic however.
He had to work at the stables shortly and was trying to transfer produce and goods through the city, a task the common beggar often performed for a petty change. But Commander Pavo was serious about his son assuming the role of a commoner in Windhelm, giving him no money or means of living. Aventis had to earn it all on his own, and having come from a comfortable lifestyle, labor was something a bit foreign to him. He was dropping a cabbage or two every other step once he made his way down a bumpier back road, muttering curses under his breath at each one plopping to the ground under his feet.
"Have you never worked before, boy?", a voice similar to a hiss spoke up behind him. Aventis stopped the cart abruptly and turned to the voice. It was a middle aged Imperial man, dark skinned with black shoulder length hair. He was wearing purple robes and pants that were trimmed with green and gold fabrics. He had clunky brown and gold bracelets and necklaces. He certainly stood out among the other citizens of Windhelm, even more so down in the slums. He was holding the dropped cabbages.
"I've worked. Now hand them over, I've got to be on my way.", Aventis said in a hurry as he reached for the cabbages in the man's arms. The man stared at the boy and jerked away, not allowing him to take the vegetables. Aventis' eyes glared in frustration and annoyance.
"You haven't. I can tell. You're an Imperial, no doubt from Cyrodil. I can tell it in your voice...and the fact that you've never gotten your hands dirty before.", the mysterious man remarked to him. "I too am an Imperial...living in a Nord's land just like you."
"Who are you?", Aventis replied quickly as his patience wore thin. He was a bit on edge, worried about the possibility of this stranger knowing who he really was and why he was in Windhelm in the first place.
"I am Calixo Corrium, a simple shop merchant with a love for...the beautiful oddities that life has to offer.", he replied with his mouth turning into a big smile.
"Your accent...you don't sound like you're from Cyrodil.", Aventis pointed out, still unwary of him.
"Ah, but I am. I have traveled all around Tamriel and have picked up a piece of the land from every providence I've visited. A bit of every culture has attached itself to me and helped shape me into the man you see before you.", he said almost proudly. Aventis scoffed lightly.
"I think your accent is fake and you're just putting on a show to appear more interesting and noble.", Aventis remarked at him. As quick as the words left his mouth, Calixo grabbed the boy's chin and turned his face to meet his eyes. It was the first time Aventis really noticed the strange man's eyes. They were green but not just traditionally green - a very light green, almost yellow. They stood out boldly against his tan skin.
"I've seen more interesting things my childhood than you'll ever see in your entire life, boy.", he released Aventis' chin, his face flushed red and eyes wide at the man. "Some of those interesting things I keep on display in my shop. You should stop by sometime - Calixo's House of Curiosities.", Calixo handed the cabbages back to Aventis and began fishing around for something in his pocket. He plucked out a few septims and tossed them to the boy, who missed the catch and let them fall to the cobble stone road with a jingle. Aventis bent down to gather the scattered coin off the dirty road. "Become a believer in the interesting things your world has to offer to you.", Calixo added.
Aventis picked up the last cold coin and knelt back up, turning to the man.
"I still think you're - ", the boy started to say. He trailed off when he looked around and found Calixo Corrium nowhere to be found.
Aventis rushed his way across the city of Windhelm with his coin sac of petty change jingling as he ran. He was late for his shift at the stables, surely Arindil would not be pleased. He was a kind Wood Elf but valued hard work...and punctuality. He pushed open the stone gates and jogged out over the icy bridge, feeling his footsteps catch on a slippery stone every so often. Aventis slowed down as he approached the Windhelm stables, to his surprise Arindil was standing out front with a shovel and watching him come closer.
"You're late.", Arindil said as he looked up at the sun. Aventis approached, his brow a bit sweaty and out of breath.
"I'm sorry, sir. I got held up on the other side of the city.", the boy apologized as he immediately went to grab the second shovel from off the wall, still trying to catch his breath.
"There's no work here for you today, boy.", Arindil said to him. Aventis looked confused for a moment.
"The Jarl's men were here earlier looking for you. Jarl Ulfric has summoned you, you need to go.", Arindil said as he plucked the shovel out of Aventis' hand.
The boy's stomach dropped. His heart rate jolted for a moment. "Did they say what the Jarl wanted me for?"
Arindil shook his head. "No. But you had better not refuse a Jarl's summoning, boy. Go."
Aventis Arentino approached the doors of the Blue Palace. By now he could feel perspiration under his arms and the undersides of his feet. His heart raced in his chest and his stomach was in knots, the watery potato stew he ate earlier in the day swirling around in his gut. Thoughts raced through Aventis' mind, but only one question stood out as he repeated it to himself - has Jarl Ulfric found him out? Gods help any man found guilty of spying on a true Nord like Ulfric Stormcloak for the enemy.
The guards donned in their Stormcloak armor pushed open the doors for Aventis and he felt the warmth of the low burning fires in the room swarm his cold flesh through his ragged clothing. He had been in the Imperial Palace a couple times before back home in Cyrodil, everything draped in Empire red and trimmed with gold. The Blue Palace was nowhere near as big at the Imperial capital, but it was still the fanciest lodging he's seen in several weeks since assuming this role in the war.
"Approach, young lad.", Jorleif called out to him as he stood next to the throne. Aventis saw Ulfric sitting in the throne, looking stone cold and poised as he always does. Galmar was standing off to his right. He approached the throne of the traitor of Skyrim.
"You summoned me, my Jarl?", he asked to him in a bow.
"Aye, I did. What's your name, boy?", Ulfric asked him. Aventis' heart was drumming loudly in his ears, he looked down at the ground.
"Aventis, sir.", he stammered. Ulfric leaned forward in his throne and stared at the boy.
"Arindil tells me you're a big help around the stables. Do you remember when you traveled with the Dragonborn and I during her visit just a few days ago?"
Aventis raised his head slowly to meet the Jarl's stare. He was confused as to where this was going, but he kept his composure. He nodded his head. "Yes, sir. I do."
"You speak proper for a peasant.", Ulfric noticed.
"I picked it up while serving highborns and nobles in the past, my Jarl.", Aventis lied, thinking quickly on his feet.
Ulfric sat up and approached Aventis. "I called you here today because I want you to accompany my caravan on a trip to Fort Kastav. Many of our troops are staying there until the war has resumed. I want to bring them any supplies they may be in need of, as well as a few bottles of Nord mead to lift their spirits.", Ulfric smiled at him. "I could use a reliable, well-spoken squire beside me."
Aventis' eyes widened and he bowed to Ulfric. "I don't know what to say, Jarl Ulfric..."
"Don't say anything, just join me tomorrow morning by the stables when we head out. We'll be there for a couple days. I can provide you with warmer clothing than the ones on your back.", he replied.
"Thank you, my Jarl. Thank you. I promise I won't let you down.", Aventis kept saying to Ulfric as he bowed profusely. He and Ulfric shook hands and he started his way out of the throne room, eager to tell his father this delicious news.
Commander Pavo was both rattled and pleased with the news his son brought him. The thought of him being so close under the nose of the sworn enemy made him feel uneasy - but the information Aventis could gather while visiting Fort Kastav was of the Legion's utmost concern. He sat at the table across him his son, tapping his knuckles on the tabletop and thinking.
"And you set off tomorrow?", he asked his son in a very business-like manner. Aventis nodded.
"Yes. We'll be gone for a few nights he said."
Commander Pavo sighed and then leaned in to his son, staring at him with a stone face. "Listen to me when I say this, son. I want you to listen to everything that treasonous snake says, listen and watch. I want you to get close to Ulfric, but not too close. If he finds out who you are...Aventis, do you know what will happen?"
Aventis gulped, although he knew. "He'll have my head."
"It'll start the war again, and it won't be pretty.", the Commander said at almost the same time. Aventis looked at his father with a bleak face, the first thing his father thinks of is the war - not his only son? The boy only nodded to save face. He would bring his father honor by giving him the enemy's secrets.
"What will you do here while I'm away? I cannot write to you from Fort Kastav, it's too risky."
Commander Pavo jumped up from his chair and went to fetch his scroll of paper and quill. "I will write to General Tullius of this news, then await your return until I write him again. You just need to make sure to pay close attention to everything he says, use that big brain of yours."
Aventis nodded, he understood his orders. However he also knew how his father was, so Aventis sat up in his chair and began to leave so as not to burden Pavo anymore with his presence.
"Son...", the Commander gently spoke out to him. "I have faith in you."
His father's words made Aventis Arentino brim with pride. The teen stable hand turned and left, he had to rush back to Fleabottom to pack his belongings for the next few days.