Chapter Twenty-One: Madmen
Ravenlight rolled over and stretched like a cat, arching her back until it popped to get out the cricks and aches that came from sleeping on rock. For once, she'd had no dreams, good or bad; just a peaceful few hours of rest. She sat up and looked around the room, instantly seeing Drizzt kneeling beside the door. He was alone, and frowning in intense concentration, but when she sat up and swung her legs off the stone bed, he looked over at her and smiled.
She smiled back. It didn't matter that they were possibly trapped in a room in a Dwemer ruin filled with angry Falmer: Drizzt was back. Her brother was himself again, and seeing him smile, his eyes clear and full of light, made her heart sing. At the same time, she did not forget that they were in a ruin filled with angry Falmer, and moved over to him quietly.
"What's going on out there?" She placed her hand on his shoulder.
He looked at the door, the smile turning into a pensive frown. "I'm not sure," he answered quietly. "There was a lot of movement at first, and they sounded like they were talking among themselves, but after that it went quiet. They didn't try to force the door, though I thought they might, and I haven't heard more than one or two outside for the last hour."
"Last hour?" She blinked. "How long was I asleep?"
He shrugged a little. "About four hours, give or take. I sent Guenhwyvar home after I realized they weren't trying to force their way in; we made need her again later."
Ravenlight nodded. "I'm going to try something," she said, glancing at him. "Detect Life can pick up the...aura of living creatures, even through walls. I can't keep it up too long, but I will be able to tell if there's anything waiting for us outside."
Drizzt nodded in assent, remembering how she'd found Castor in Sky Haven Temple. However, he also remembered her saying that it had nearly made her sick, as well—and he certainly remembered how tired she was after the Ward lesson in the College. He unobtrusively moved behind her, so he could support her if she needed it. She extended her arm, blue light glowing in her hands and eyes as she called on the magic.
Almost immediately, she frowned, turning her head from side to side. A few moments later, she let the power fade and lowered her hand, leaning back with a sigh. Drizzt placed his hand on her shoulder. "What did you see?"
She glanced at his hand, smiling. "You know, I really missed that sweet side of yours these past few days." She looked up again, frowning. "The Falmer have moved off, except for two, and they're not paying any attention to the door. There's a fair knot of them further in, but they're not mobilizing again."
"We should probably go on quietly then," Drizzt mused. He grimaced, looking down. "My... wildness probably didn't help things."
"Uhiel." Ravenlight turned around. "You were not yourself earlier. I won't deny that. But it wasn't your fault." Amber eyes held lavender ones as she cupped his face between her hands. "I had some time to think about it, and I realized that the way you acted, both earlier and last night, was...very, very much out of character. So much so, in fact, that I doubt it was just...you."
"Which means?" He was almost hypnotized by the intensity of her gaze.
She pulled him forward and rested her forehead against his. "It means you were being manipulated, my brother. Something was in your head, affecting your thoughts and the way you acted—and I think it was trying to get you killed. And it...almost succeeded." She closed her eyes, her hands briefly tightening.
He swallowed hard, knowing she was seeing his all-but-lifeless body again. "I..." He had no words: nothing he hadn't already said, nothing that wouldn't feel hollow.
"So." She opened her eyes, inhaling deeply, and blinking just a little too quickly. "Quit beating yourself up over it. It happened, but most of it wasn't your fault...and whatever was your fault, I know you're sorry, and I forgive you for it." She pulled him close for a tight, quick hug, then released him. "And," she continued, dropping her voice to a whisper, "we've made enough noise that those two Falmer are probably interested in us again, if they haven't dashed off to warn the others that we're both still alive."
He grimaced, remembering that he had killed a high-ranking warrior. "Ravenlight, Falmer society...what's it like? Do they...revere their leaders at all?"
The Bosmer shrugged helplessly. "You're asking the wrong person, Drizzt. I've never even bothered figuring out if they have any kind of society at all—I've always been too busy trying to keep them from killing me whenever I have to enter these ruins. They might have something, but...nothing I could see at a glimpse, nothing so concrete as a Bosmer clan or an Orc stronghold, let alone the communities of Men."
In truth, he hadn't expected anything more—though he still wondered if they would attempt a particular retaliation against him. He crept over to the door and listened, trying to see if he could hear any activity—or lack of it—in the room outside. For a moment, he heard nothing; then there was a scuffling step, and a growling, unintelligible exchange. The Falmer were still out there—though where they were and what they were doing, he couldn't tell.
He glanced back at Ravenlight, signaling to let her know that the pair was still there. Her eyes gleamed with what could only be called fell light as she lifted Wraithcaptor into position, nocking an arrow to the string. He pulled Taumaril off his back as well. For a second, they locked gazes, and Ravenlight nodded once. Drizzt nodded back.
Then he turned the key again, unlocking the door and swinging it open noiselessly. The two Falmer at the end of the hall turned, apparently sensing the change in the air—but it didn't help them. Drow and Bosmer picked their targets, and their bows sang in unison. The arrows flew straight, one piercing through a useless eye, the other directly through the heart, and both Falmer collapsed. For a moment, they waited, listening to hear if anything would come to investigate the sound; but nothing came.
Ravenlight took the lead again, Wraithcaptor at the ready, while Drizzt glided behind her. This time, with the Hunter out of the way and the clouds of despair lifted, he was both intrigued and curious about the architecture surrounding them, looking at the steam-spouting pipes and turning gears in silent but very real wonder. It was a reminder that the Dwemer of Skyrim were very different from the Dwarves of Faerun—and piqued his fascination.
He was not, however, so distracted by their surroundings that he missed the pair of Falmer stalking the next room, another large, open space with a stone walkway surrounding a sunken area holding several inches of stale-smelling water. The Falmer were on the opposite side of the room from them, giving both archers a clear shot and time to take it. Ravenlight took her shot first, the arrow slamming straight through a hairless skull; Taumaril's arrow flew next in a silver flash, the power behind the shot hurling the second one against the wall. The crack of bone against metal was loud enough that both Elves stilled and crouched, listening to hear if anything would come to investigate.
A few seconds later, Ravenlight pointed to the far end of the room. Drizzt listened a little harder, and this time noticed the chitinous rustle-click of a nearby chaurus. They glanced at each other, then he nodded, readying another arrow and moving in the direction of the sound. He noticed the second door as he passed it; but that one lay silent, without any obvious enemies behind it. Ravenlight followed close behind, also ignoring the silent door in favor of the other. As he reached out to open the second door, however, her eyes happened to fall to the base of the golden metal slab.
Instantly, she grabbed his cloak and yanked him back, just as the door opened—and a series of jagged metal spikes shot out of slots along the doorway. For half a second, he stared at a trap that could have cost him a hand. Then the spikes retracted, the chaurus turned, and both dodged to the side as it spat a stream of venom toward them. He had Taumaril at the ready, and let fly at once, hitting the massive insect just below the head. It screeched viciously, running toward them. Ravenlight whipped Wraithcaptor up and slammed a second arrow into it, knocking it back a single step, and then Drizzt fired a second time, the silvery bolt piercing into the chaurus's head. The third shot sent it rolling back, twitching in death agonies; after a moment, it lay still. Drizzt watched it suspiciously for a moment. Then, glancing with equal suspicion at the door, he stepped through and entered the room—which was all it turned out to be. Ravenlight followed him, glancing around and then heading straight for a large chest against the wall.
Drizzt noticed that her arrow was still sticking out of the chaurus and went over to retrieve it, noting to his relief as he did that the glass head had gone between the thick plates of chitin, rather than through them. He tugged it free and wiped it off, looking around as he did. "Just a room, then," he mused.
"A treasure room." Ravenlight looked at what she'd just removed from the chest, turned it over curiously, then stuffed it in her pack. "Which I should have guessed when I saw the trigger at the base of the door. Even the Dwemer wouldn't have trapped a main thoroughfare halfway through the city." She paused to consider. "Well, not with something like those spikes. If they were defending an area, they'd use a much more...sadistic type of trap."
"I take it you've encountered these?" He glanced at her.
Ravenlight stared into the distance for a moment. "Yes. And let's just leave it at that." She shivered. "I just hope we don't run into any of them here in Mzulft."
The silent door they'd passed over proved to be the one leading deeper into the ruin. Drizzt took the lead, Taumaril held at the ready. No Falmer, chaurus or automatons waited; but it wasn't without its danger, as the body of yet another researcher from the Imperial synod showed. Ravenlight closed the man's eyes, though she couldn't do anything about the terror etched on his face; then the pair continued toward the large and heavier-than-normal door at the end of the hall.
There wasn't an obvious difference between the dilapidated hallways connecting the door with the rooms beyond, but Drizzt tested the air curiously as they made their silent way along. The pressure was different, if not noticeably fresher; they were in a different part of the mountain.
A single Falmer patrolled the upper part of the hallway, accompanied by a hissing, clicking chaurus. Ravenlight's silent arrows took out the twisted, Elf-like creature. Drizzt, in hopes of avoiding the Chaurus's death-screams, drew his blades and waited until it scuttled close, then struck hard and fast, severing its head and killing it at once. Its body thrashed, but the sound was faint compared to the ambient noise already in the ruin, and he had some hope that any Falmer nearby would miss it.
Knowing how good their hearing was, though, it wasn't a particularly strong hope.
They continued through the hall, passing a pair a thick pipes that snaked along both sides of the corridor. Heat radiated off them, suggesting that they carried either hot water or steam; both Elves took care not to brush up against them. The doorway opened onto a large, high-ceilinged room, much of it hidden from their immediate view by a wall directly across from them. The...antechamber, he supposed, was brilliantly lit by one of the silent blue lamps. A pair of helmed and bearded metal faces gazed impassively at them; they didn't look exactly like the Dwarves of Faerun, but Drizzt could see a sort of kinship between the race he knew so well and the mysterious, lost race of Nirn. It was more obvious in the carvings on the pillars that stretched up to the ceiling, and he wondered...
Scuffing footsteps drew his attention away from the architecture around them. Ravenlight had already lifted Wraithcaptor into position, and as the Falmer came around the corner, she fired, the arrow taking it through the throat and dropping it at once. It fell back, dropping its sword with a clatter. Instantly, Drizzt heard at least a dozen others come alert. He glanced at her and signaled, indicating that they should go around opposite sides of the antechamber. She nodded and flattened herself against the back wall, moving silently and sticking to whatever shadows she could find. He slipped around the other way, pulling out Taumaril as he did. Something told him that the enemies in the far room would be formidable ones, and they would need all the help they could get.
Stepping carefully among the loose pottery and broken stones lining the wall, he came around the corner and looked over the room. Several raised daises sat against the walls, one—the one across from him, he noted—larger than the others. Low-ranking Falmer roamed the lower floor, wandering in and out of shadows cast by thick pillars; two others stood on the large dais, one wearing the thick body armor that marked him as a Warmonger. Drizzt's eyes narrowed as he singled him out: he wasn't proud of what had happened with the last one, and decided that, if he had the chance, he was going to take this one on blade-to-blade. The other one, however, while clearly of equally high rank, wasn't wearing armor...though it did appear to be carrying some kind of staff.
A mage? The previous Warmonger had demonstrated an ability to use magic, but hadn't chosen to do so in their fight. Drizzt looked across at the strange creatures, and wondered what it meant that they had actual mages among their ranks. They had seemed little more than beasts, in truth: perhaps like goblins or kobolds. But now he wondered...what were the Falmer, really?
His musing came to an abrupt—and needed—end when one of the lesser Falmer suddenly let out a strangled gurgle and dropped, a glass arrow protruding from his neck. The attention of the creatures promptly focused, turning toward the area where the shot had come. Swiftly, he targeted another one, at a different corner of the room, and let fly with Taumaril. As he'd hoped, the louder, more obvious attack quickly drew attention toward him. But, instead of deciding to focus on him, as he'd hoped, the Warmonger shouted an order, gesturing to both sides of the partition wall.
Damn it, he knows there's two of us! Drizzt drew his scimitars and leaped out of hiding, hitting the low-ranking ones like a bladed hurricane. That pulled their attention square to him, and while he noticed the crouched-low form dashing further into the room, where she had a full view of all their enemies—and hopefully range enough to hit them without endangering him—the Falmer didn't.
He danced, light and fast, always a step or two ahead of their blows, never still long enough for them to peg his location. Twinkle and Icingdeath flicked and snapped in tight arcs: now batting away a chitin sword, now thrusting in at unprotected chests and throats. Hot blood spattered the stone floor, dripping off his blades. The Warmonger prowled a little closer, as if waiting for his chance. The other one-
Ravenlight exploded out of hiding, drawing Sunfang as the mage lifted an ice-wreathed hand and pointed at the Drow. The glass blade came up, then snapped down, right through outstretched arm, severing it at the elbow before the magic could be released. The Falmer screamed in agony, whipping around and narrowly missing her face with the head of its staff. She dodged away as the staff lit up, sending a powerful firebolt across the room. The Warmonger whirled, apparently losing interest in the swordsman in favor of the newcomer who had just disabled his mage. Drizzt saw the movement, saw him heading toward Ravenlight—and acted instantly.
"Guenhwyvar!"
At least half of the Falmer knew what that cry meant, and before the panther had finished taking shape, they'd bolted for safety. The rest of them quickly discovered why, as she took them on, mercilessly scattering them across the room. Ravenlight wheeled and leaped, trying to get close enough to the mage to take it down as it furiously fired bolt after bolt at her. And before the Warmonger could reach her, Drizzt reached him.
This time, he didn't bother testing his enemy or feeling out his defenses. This time, he struck hard and fast, lashing out with all the speed and strength he had. This Warmonger was just as good as the previous one had been. But it wasn't good enough, now that despair no longer clouded his mind, now that he knew he had something—someone—to live for. Now that he had, not just a companion, but a sister beside him.
The Warmonger had threatened her.
It paid for that.
Ravenlight ducked a wild blow from the nearly-depleted staff, rolled forward, and came up with Sunfang leading. The glass sword slid easily into the unarmored Nightprowler's body, the force of her upward lunge ramming it all the way through. For a second, she stood, face-to-face with the blind creature; then it went limp and collapsed, sliding off her blade and crumpling to the ground. She looked around, panting, and realized that there were no more enemies left. Drizzt stood over the second Warmonger, his blades slick and black with Falmer blood, and as she looked, Guenwhyvar, looking quite pleased with herself, padded back into view.
She wiped her sword and sheathed it, then held out her left hand and used her Detect Life spell again, looking all around. There were a few red blurs fleeing for the lower levels; no doubt the few Falmer who had managed to escape Guen's attack. She doubted they would be back for another go at them. Other than that, there was a single blue form higher up in the building; and then nothing else.
Don't get cocky, she reminded herself as she lowered her hand. This is a Dwemer ruin—and automatons aren't exactly alive. She glanced at Drizzt. "Are you all right?"
He looked up at her and nodded, cleaning his scimitars and sheathing them. "Yes. You?"
She nodded. "I'd be a little better if we'd taken the time to eat before we ran out again; but we're out of enemies, or nearly out, so we have the time to rest a little." She pointed at the door behind the large dais. "There's one person behind that door, and he didn't register as a threat, and the only Falmer left are the ones who managed to get away from Guen—and they're probably not going to challenge us again."
Drizzt grimaced a little as he looked around. "Should we take a rest, then? If we're that close to our goal?"
"I could use another one," Ravenlight admitted. "Especially if we can take the time to eat a little. Replenishing magicka does take energy, and I did..." She hesitated, glanced at him, and then looked away, absently rubbing one arm. "Burn through a lot of it earlier."
"Healing me." There was a distinctly guilty, self-accusing note in his voice.
Ravenlight turned to him sternly. "Stop that, uhiel. Yes, I did exhaust myself healing you—but I did it willingly, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if it becomes necessary. If you really feel that awful about it, then just don't put yourself in a position where it is necessary again."
He smiled, reaching out to gently brush her face. "Never deliberately," he promised. "And I will do what I can to keep it from happening in the more...normal way, as well."
Guenhwyvar growled in approval as Ravenlight hugged him again. "That's all I ask," the Bosmer said quietly. "That is all I ask."
Some twenty minutes later, after a quick meal, the two picked through the bodies on the floor. An investigation of the door on the high dais—the one which, no doubt, led to the final room of the ancient city—proved that it was locked. Not merely locked, but the lock was too intricate to be picked, meaning that it would need a key. Part of her wondered if she should catch the attention of the blue-glowing figure she'd seen earlier; the other part realized that she didn't know how. At least, not how to signal him and let him know they weren't enemies.
Almost absently, she turned over and examined the body of the Falmer Nightprowler. Instantly, her eyes widened as she discovered something that was most assuredly not of Falmer make: a strange crystal device, bound in metal. Immediately, she remembered the dying mage at the entrance hall of the city, and Drizzt reporting, from the man's journal, that a focusing crystal of some kind had been stolen. This must be it. She carefully stowed it in her pack.
Still, they needed to hunt down a key that would fit the door's specific lock—as the one she'd found earlier didn't fit. It did fit the door to a small treasure room, but other than a fairly rich chest, there was nothing in there. However, directly across from the dais, Drizzt found a door that led down and into a series of living quarters. The first two rooms were fairly benign, though deserted; however, the second room held a pair of dead Falmer, their throats impaled with small darts. Drizzt pulled one loose and examined it, frowning: it looked, at least at first glance, almost like the bolt from a Drow hand-crossbow. But both the metal it was made from and the workmanship was different; and, more importantly, this one wasn't poisoned. He held it up so that Ravenlight could see it.
"What would fire something like this?"
She took the bolt and checked it over. Instantly, her eyes widened. "Please the Divines this didn't come from what I think it did. It's a Dwemer bolt; some of their automatons use this kind of crossbow." She looked at the dead Falmer and swallowed. "Divines," she whispered, "let this just be another Dwemer sphere. Please let it just be another Dwemer sphere."
Cautiously, drawing Sunfang and dropping into a crouch, she ghosted over to the door and pushed it open as silently as possible. Drizzt remembered the appearance of the Dwemer spheres. What waited in the final room...was most assuredly not a sphere.
"By the gods," he whispered, staring in disbelief at a towering metal statue, "what is that?!"
"Dwemer Centurion," Ravenlight answered, her face paling. "Akatosh preserve us, that's going to be a harder fight than the Warmonger!"
"We have to fight it?" It appeared lifeless for the moment—but it was surrounded by crushed and impaled Falmer in varying states of decay. They had clearly been trying and failing to destroy the thing for a long time. To him, it looked about as intimidating as an umber hulk—and he wasn't sure if this was a fight they could win.
She nodded, her hand tightening around Sunfang. "Use Taumaril," she ordered. "Its enchantment is strong enough to actually damage that thing. And if you can, aim for the soul gem—its power source. If we can just get that out, it'll shut off."
"You've fought them before?" He pulled Taumaril out.
"Once. Not an easy fight, but I survived." She swallowed. "Albeit barely. I'm going to use a Shout: it may give us an advantage."
"Go." He didn't mind a fight—but since he was no longer in a suicidal state of mind, fighting an enemy like this wasn't something he looked forward to, and he was willing to take any advantage they might have. "Whatever you have to do."
She slid forward, moving quietly—but it wasn't quietly enough, and with the grinding of gears and the clatter of metal, the Centurion came to life. Its head turned from side to side, looking for whatever had alerted it. Ravenlight went still, watching, clearly hoping its attention would pass over her. It was a forlorn hope. Its gaze passed over her at first, but then it stopped and turned, focusing its attention on where she crouched.
Drizzt lifted Taumaril and fired instantly, the silvery flash briefly illuminating the room and overpowering the glow of the lamps. A second later, the arrow slammed into the Centurion's side, piercing the thick metal and sending a sharp charge through it. But while it certainly caught the massive automaton's attention, the damage was minimal. The Centurion turned to him, its movements ponderous—but ponderous did not mean clumsy, and as it raised the crossbow built into its arm, he knew it certainly didn't mean it was less dangerous. He dodged back and forth in an unpredictable zigzag to avoid a hail of darts.
"LISS!"
Ice several inches thick suddenly wrapped around the Centurion's entire right side. Metal screamed and protested at the obstruction as it tried to turn back toward her, while she took advantage of its sudden immobility to circle around behind it and bash at exposed joints with Sunfang's pommel. Drizzt fired several more times, aiming for the chest and head; he wasn't sure exactly where the soul gem was, and in something that huge, it could have been anywhere.
It returned fire, forcing him to move quickly to avoid being hit by the small darts. One hit the floor a few inches away from him and skipped off hard, knocking chips out of the stone tile. He took note of that: these darts didn't need to be poisoned to cause damage, not fired from a bow that powerful. He let fly again, this time aiming for the left hand and the bow in it, trying to damage it badly enough to make it useless.
Ravenlight let out an incoherent yell. A second later, a loud clang reverberated through the room. She'd sheathed Sunfang—which hadn't been doing any good—and picked up a large metal bar that had been laying to the side instead. The improvised club, while heavy and unwieldy, was a much more effective weapon against the Centurion, the first blow leaving a large dent in the leg. Encouraged, she pulled back and swung again, harder this time, trying to damage the joint badly enough to at least immobilize the thing. The dent widened. The leg started to bow. And the Centurion...
Drizzt saw it just before it happened: saw the ice strain and start to crack. He opened his mouth, drew in breath to shout a warning—
Too late.
The ice burst, scattering pieces across the room like a hailstorm, and the automaton swiveled, its previously trapped right arm swinging in a hard arc. Ravenlight tried to dodge out of the way. But she misjudged the angle of the swing, and the hammer built into its arm caught her in the chest, flinging her aside. She crashed against a corner post and fell to the ground, stunned and struggling to breathe.
Drizzt yelled in alarm, firing shot after silver, flashing shot into the Centurion's body, trying to find a weak spot, trying to find a place that would shut it down. Then he saw it: a gleaming, blue-white glint, a shine beneath the metal. He aimed there, once, twice, thrice—and the gem sagged, tipping out of its place. The Centurion staggered, its mechanisms winding down.
Drawing Twinkle, he raced forward, leaping up onto its arm and climbing toward its chest. It tried a last defense, releasing a scalding cloud of steam that enveloped the Drow. Without Icingdeath's enchantment at hand, the heat was almost unbearable, and the exposed skin on his face and hands blistered. But Drizzt pushed on, grimly ignoring the pain, climbing until he could reach the hole he'd blasted through its breastplate. He struck with Twinkle, widening the hole, then thrust his hand through, seized the gem, and yanked, tearing it from its housing. The Centurion sagged, but didn't shut off—and he saw, behind where the gem had been, a rotating, crackling orb, generating its own power for it. He instinctively knew better than to grab or strike at the actual core. But he saw the conduits leading off it, and struck at those, cutting the core loose.
Instantly, the automaton became nothing more than a jointed piece of metal. Drizzt leaped off and made it to Ravenlight's side just before it collapsed with a boom that shook every loose piece of metal or pottery off the shelves. He crouched over her, shielding her from bouncing debris for several minutes, before everything finally quieted.
Finally, the last rattling item stilled, and he straightened, looking around. Ravenlight groaned a little, and he turned to her quickly.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded, still panting, but no longer gasping for breath. "Just...winded." She grimaced and put a hand on her ribs. "Ow." She allowed him to help her sit up, though from the way she gritted her teeth, he really wasn't helping.
He frowned, concerned. "Do you need to heal?"
"Just need a potion." Ravenlight fumbled for her pack. Drizzt caught her hand, offering her one of the ones she'd given him earlier instead. She smiled at him and took it, swigging it down quickly. Immediately, she closed her eyes and sighed, opening them again and looking him over. "You look like you could use one yourself. What happened?"
"It...blasted me with a cloud of steam while I was going after its soul gem." The steam burns throbbed mercilessly, and he almost asked her for healing. But he remembered her exhaustion from earlier, remembered that she had drained herself completely trying to heal him. Instead, he dug out another healing potion, drinking it as quickly as possible. The pain of the burns faded instantly as the thick liquid slid down his throat; and this time, at least, there wasn't a horrible powdery aftertaste. Still, he coughed and wiped his mouth, grimacing. The stuff still tasted nasty.
Ravenlight waited until the blisters faded before reaching out and cupping his face in her hand. "Thanks for protecting me, uhiel," she said.
He smiled back at her. "Do I get to scold you for scaring me?" he asked, teasing.
"No," she responded instantly, "because if you couldn't tell I just had the wind knocked out of me, you need your eyes checked." She swatted him lightly, then turned to look across the floor for anything of value. "Well, there's something that didn't fall."
Drizzt watched her as she headed over to a large chest, which was anchored securely enough on its shelf that it hadn't moved when the Centurion collapsed. "So getting slapped by a warhammer wielded by a tower of metal shouldn't count as something to be worried about?"
"Believe it or not, it didn't throw me as hard as Curamil's Shout did," she answered. "The hammer was so big that it...distributed the blow evenly. I thought it would hurt worse, especially the way it threw me; but really, hitting that corner post hurt worse than the hammer." She grimaced. "A smaller head would have done a lot more damage."
"You favored your ribs quite a bit back there," he pointed out.
"Yes, they were sore. But they weren't broken. I know how that feels." She opened the chest and let out a satisfied noise. "Ah, here it is. This must be the key to get into the observatory."
He eyed her. "I find it a little unusual that you're so unconcerned about being flung into the wall," he said mildly.
"Having the wind knocked out of you is a pretty small thing, compared to—" She went rigid and stopped talking.
Drizzt came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. He understood now, or thought he did. But he wanted to make sure. "Compared to what, essiel?"
The Bosmer looked down and said nothing, turning the key over in her hands. A little awkwardly, he put his arms around her shoulders, and simply waited. Finally, she spoke.
"I didn't want to tell you; didn't want to make you feel...guilty again. But I...it's probably going to haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. You..." She hesitated again, swallowing. "Drizzt...you stopped breathing. You stopped breathing and your heartbeat was so faint I...I really wasn't sure if I was feeling it or just...refusing to accept that you'd..."
His arms tightened around her shoulders as she stopped, her voice choking up. He'd known he'd come close to dying. He just hadn't known how close it had been. Silently, he thanked his father and the bridge guard for turning him back. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "Gods, sister, I am so sorry."
She rested her head against him. "It was like...like Firefall again," she said quietly. "Only this time, I thought I was going to have to watch you die, and I couldn't...I'd done everything I could, and it...wasn't enough."
His breath caught in his throat. Once again, he knelt beside Bruenor, holding the dying dwarf in his arms; he saw Jarlaxle springing over the precipice's side moments before the primordial's fury burst forth; once again, he held Cattie-Brie in his arms, as she lay in the throes of her madness. He vividly remembered how, for all his strength, all his prowess in battle...in those moments, he had been utterly helpless.
He knew what it had been like for her as she cradled his body, sobbing and pleading to what gods might listen to change the outcome; begging fate to not let it end, not here, not this way. He knew...because he'd been there. It wasn't guilt that filled him at this; it was empathy, a complete understanding.
"You're right," he murmured, hugging her a little closer. "It would be hard to fret about... something as small as being winded after that."
She smiled, reached up and squeezing his hand. "I do love you, my brother." For a moment more, they stood together. Then she sighed, and he released her. "All right; let's go see if we can get into the observatory. There's still the Staff of Magnus to find—hopefully in time to head off any disaster from the Eye."
A few moments later, the locked door clicked open, and the pair entered a hallway, provisioned with bedrolls and food barrels: what had to have been the final defense the Synod researchers had built against the Falmer. Sadly, there was no one there, and dust was collecting on barrels and bedrolls. Ravenlight wondered if most of them had tried to escape back through the ruin, only to fall one by one to the dangers inside.
Drizzt looked inside a barrel and wrinkled his nose at the half-rotten fruit it contained. "It looks like no one's been in here for a while," he said, closing the lid again.
A voice behind the door at the end of the hall gasped. "G-Gavros? Is that you?" Quick footsteps approached. "I'd almost given up hope. Let me get the door..."
A key rattled in the lock, and then a bar fell away with a clank. The door swung open to reveal an unshaven, slightly wild-eyed man in the same blue-violet robes as the corpses they'd found throughout the ruin. He tensed when he saw them, lifting hands suddenly filled with fire. "Who are you? What have you done with Gavros?"
Ravenlight raised empty hands in a pacifying gesture. "You would be Paratus? I'm afraid your friend is dead. We found him in the entrance hall to the city, and he perished before I could even attempt to tend his wound."
"His wound?" The man straightened. "It was the Falmer, wasn't it? Curse them, they've ruined everything!" He gazed into the distance. "If Gavros is gone, then...there is no hope. He was supposed to return with the crystal. Without it, all our efforts are in vain. All our loss...for nothing." His eyes focused on them. "And you two...whatever you're here for, treasure, wisdom; I'm afraid you've wasted your time."
"Maybe not," Drizzt said. He glanced at Ravenlight, having also noticed a slightly...odd tone to the man's voice. Despair was there, certainly, but...it wasn't just despair. He suspected that the slow loss of his comrades, the constant danger of the Falmer, and the eventual solitude had taken a toll on the man's sanity. "What was this crystal supposed to do?"
"It didn't work the first time." Paratus didn't seem to really...notice them as he spoke. "I told him. I told him, but would he listen? No! 'Oh, no, Paratus, it won't be too cold!' he said. Well, I was right! It focused completely wrong by the time we got here! The cold had warped it!" He started pacing. "Gavros had to cart it all the way back to Cyrodil. Left the rest of us here, to fend off the damnable Falmer. And now where are we? Gone! Everyone but me, gone! Even Gavros! And now...now the crystal's gone, too, and with it, everything's lost!"
"It's not all lost." Ravenlight pulled the odd device she'd discovered out of her pack. Miraculously, it had escaped being slammed against the wall undamaged. "Is this what you need?"
His eyes lit up, and he almost pounced on it. "Yes! Yes, that's it! Where did you find it? No, that doesn't matter. I—with the Falmer skulking around, I can't do this on my own. You'll have to come with me." He took the crystal, almost lovingly, and turned to head further up the hall, beckoning them along as he did. "Come; I'll explain on the way."
The two Elves glanced at each other and shrugged a little, then followed the rambling man. "No matter what Gavros said," he declared, more or less to the air, "this was my idea first. The Council's going to know that when I get back. I was the one who thought of using this...this Oculory. I don't know what the Dwarves called it; something unpronounceable, I'm sure. From our research, it seems they were intent on discerning the...the nature of the Divine."
Drizzt stared as they entered the next room. It was almost entirely filled by a massive, reddish-gold metal sphere, studded here and there with huge circles of green-blue glass, almost identical to the malachite glass Sunfang and Wraithcaptor were made from. Paratus walked around it, gesturing as he did with the hand that didn't hold the focusing crystal.
"This machinery, all of it, was designed to collect starlight, and then...I'm not sure. Split it, somehow? It was my idea to replace one of the key elements with our focusing crystal. Months of enchantments went into it." He grunted irritably. "Let's just hope they got it right this time."
They went up a stone walkway to the top of the sphere. A large arch sat in the middle of the sphere, beneath a high domed ceiling. Brilliant blue-white light fell from a window in the center of the dome, falling on the top of the arch. The ceiling was divided into three large rings, each one inlaid with rectangles of royal blue, and each boasting a single circular...he didn't think they were windows so much as lenses, all made of blue-green malachite. Paratus gazed at it.
"The Dwemer Oculory," he said. "Magnificent, isn't it? It took us months to get it working again; I just hope it's all worth it. Let me place the crystal in the central apparatus..." He climbed up the sphere and approached the arch, "and then we can get to work focusing it."
He took a moment to place the strange crystal in a circular design at the top of the arch. "It's very important," he said, his tongue between his teeth with concentration, "that it gets in correctly... ah!"
Suddenly, the circular design in the middle of the arch—which had seemed little more than an attractive design—swung upside-down, placing the focusing crystal in the beam of light. The three lenses fell to a horizontal position, each one reflecting an intense beam of white light at the ceiling.
"Oh, I see," Ravenlight said suddenly, looking at the beams of light, "each one of those lenses on the ceiling needs to catch a beam of light, am I correct?"
"I...yes." Paratus looked vaguely disappointed that he didn't have to explain the workings of the strange device. "Heat and cold both affect the crystal differently; it should allow you to direct the beams to where they need to be." He gestured to a higher area. "The buttons up there move the lenses."
Again, the Elves exchanged looks. This time, they nodded and split up. Ravenlight strode up to the crystal, calling flames into one hand and frost into the other; Drizzt went up to the control panel. He waited for several moments while Ravenlight coaxed the light into its proper place; then, once each beam of light fell in the middle of the rings, he started turning the lenses to catch the light. Finally, all three were in place, resulting in a blaze of light so intense he had to look away until his eyes were used to it.
"It's done!" Paratus sounded exultant. "Years and years of work, finally paying off!" He ran forward, then stopped dead. "Wait—What's this? These results...they're not at all what they should be!"
Ravenlight turned to look at the stone wall produced by the high area under the controls, and her eyes widened. "Uhiel," she called, "come look!"
Drizzt ran down to join them, and stopped himself at the sight of a large map, picked out in light against the stone. "By the gods," he murmured.
"I don't understand!" Paratus wailed. "This projection—it should be lit up like the night sky! Something...something is creating an enormous amount of interference." He came closer and peered at the map. "Something in...in Winterhold, it looks like."
Ravenlight grunted, peering close herself. "For some reason, I am not surprised at all," she muttered under her breath. "If it could interfere with the Psyjics..."
"What are you playing at?" Her words had not been that quiet, and she was close enough to the researcher that he heard everything. He wasn't foolish enough to actually turn on her, but he glared as if he was considering it. "Is this some attempt to stall my work?!"
"No," she answered, her voice a little sharp. "Not in the slightest."
"So what is it?" he demanded. "What have you done?" His voice grew louder. "Did you know what we were attempting? Are you here to make sure that—that your plan worked? That our efforts were all for nothing?" He started forward—then halted, his eyes suddenly darting to the Dark Elf looming beside her, lavender eyes were glowing ominously, his hands on his sword hilts.
"You." Drizzt said, his voice completely level, "Calm down. This wasn't sabotage."
"It wasn't?" His voice was shaking. "You're—you're from it, aren't you? The College? You and that College have ruined years of my work. My friends and colleagues lie dead in this gods-forsaken ruin, victims of the Falmer, and you want me to calm down?" He shook his head angrily. "How did you do it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," said Ravenlight irritably. "There is something in Winterhold right now, though, and it's powerful enough to cause problems in the Aurbis clear across Skyrim. It's some tribute to the Dwemer, in fact, that magic works the way it's supposed to in here, otherwise I'd have never dared to use magic on that crystal. It's why we're here: to find something that could help deal with the damn thing before it causes a catastrophe."
"Something?" He cocked his head to the side, no longer raging, but more...cautiously intrigued. "What sort of something?"
Ravenlight glanced at Drizzt, but answered. "We were told to find the Staff of Magnus."
"The Staff. Yes." Paratus looked at the map again and sighed. "I can't explain the details. That would be giving away secrets the Synod has worked on for years. Besides, I doubt you'd be able to comprehend all of them." He walked in front of the map, gazing at it. "Have you seen the Orrery in the Imperial City? It was the inspiration for this idea."
Ravenlight glowered at him, muttering under her breath again. "No, because the last time I was in Cyrodil, the Imperial City was hip-deep in Thalmor. Get to the point."
He ignored her this time. "Instead of projecting the night sky, we would project all of Tamriel, then harness the latent energies to overlay the positions of..." He paused. "What's important is that this work was designed to reveal to us the sources of great magical power."
Drizzt felt his lips thinning. The Synod was starting to remind him of some other groups of wizards he'd encountered in Faerun; and this time, not the scatter-headed but generally benevolent Harpells, either. Memories of the Hosttower of the Arcane filtered to the surface.
Paratus glanced at him and coughed. "These were meant to safeguard the Empire, of course," he said, as though the thought of using these sources of power for personal gain would have never occurred to anyone. "But..." he turned back to the map, "in the end, only two locations have been revealed! One is your College, and the other...the other can only be Labyrinthian."
"Labyrinthian?" Ravenlight frowned. Then her eyes widened. "Oh, Vaermina's saggy, wrinkled—"
"You know the place?" Drizzt looked at her worriedly, not liking whatever could pull out that kind of epithet, even if it was left unfinished.
"Passed by it on my first trek to Morthal," she answered. "I'd heard there was a structure deeper in the ruins of the old city, but—the place is crawling with frost trolls. I never went in to find out."
"Labyrinthian," Paratus continued, apparently not hearing the exchange. He turned to them, a sort of wild, triumphant look in his eyes. "So, mage of Winterhold, despite your intentions, I've beaten your little game. Even if all you've said here is lies, I know that you have something in your College the Synod will be very interested in. So, off with you both. Trudge off to Labyrinthian and look for your little Staff. I shall return to Cyrodil to make a full report to the Council!"
"Be sure to use some magic once you get outside, just to see the full effects of the damn thing," Ravenlight said absently. "I'm pretty sure your Council really doesn't want it. So, the Staff of Magnus is in Labyrinthian?"
He paused. "Well, yes. Probably." Then he straightened. "I mean, certainly! Of course it is! But it doesn't matter, because I know you're hoarding something of even greater importance in your College! The Council will hear of this, I assure you!"
"I'm quaking in my boots," Ravenlight muttered, rolling her eyes. "Remember to speak politely to Sheogorath when he comes for you, the stories say he doesn't like rudeness. Come on, uhiel; this place is sticking in my craw."
They left the Synod mage spluttering at her retort and left the Oculory, heading for a door Ravenlight had seen just before Paratus had realized their presence. She'd noticed a slight, cold draft coming from it, and hoped that it would open on the outside world, without their having to travel back through the entire ruin to leave.
The door was locked, but the key to the observatory fit the lock, and they soon found themselves outside on the mountain's peak, breathing deep of crisp, bitterly cold air. Ravenlight looked up at the dark sky and smiled. "Not quite a full day in there," she noted. "We can rest again once we're down the mountain." She glanced at Drizzt. "Unless you'd rather head back to Kynesgrove and Winterhold right away."
He started to shake his head, perfectly content to wait a little while before traveling again—then stiffened, his head coming up. "Ravenlight, do you feel that?"
In her pleasure at leaving the ruin and getting back into the fresh air, she hadn't at first. But when he called her attention to it, she did: the same uncomfortable, tingling sensation that had greeted them in the entrance hall of Saarthal. They exchanged a horrified look.
"No rest, then," said Ravenlight, her face paling. "We've got to get back to the College as fast as possible. What in Oblivion are they doing with that blasted Eye?"
Two possibilities came to mind, neither one pleasant: one was that Tolfdir, in his innocent curiosity, had unwittingly unleashed powers he wasn't prepared to handle. The other was that someone else—and the image of a power-hungry Altmer came quickly to mind—was awakening it for much less innocent purposes.
"I don't know," he said grimly, knowing the second he glanced at her that the same two possibilities had come to her mind as well. "But we'd best hurry."
The road was miraculously clear, and they met with no trouble on their hard ride north. Of course, that could have been because of the strange pressure in the air, suggesting to everyone and everything that something was coming: something very big, and very, very bad. Pushing on to Winterhold felt like heading into the heart of a natural disaster: the eye of a hurricane, perhaps, or the mouth of an active volcano.
It grew so severe that eventually, Fearless balked and refused to continue, forcing Ravenlight to just send him back to Whiterun. Drizzt almost didn't dare summon Andahar, but time was pressing enough that he decided to risk it. Thankfully, the magic that called the unicorn was separate from the Aurbis, and nothing strange happened as he came galloping up—though even the summoned mount seemed to realize there was something wrong in the air, and grew skittish and agitated the closer they came to Winterhold.
Neither of the two could blame him for it, though. As they entered the outskirts of the town, Ravenlight shivered and rubbed her arms hard: it felt exactly like the sensation just before a lightning strike—or a prolonged series of strikes.
"This is bad," she muttered, swinging down. "Drizzt, I'm going to the College—but I don't know what I'm going to find there, and I'd rather you stayed down here, in case..." She shrugged, not sure what exactly 'in case' should be.
He nodded. "I understand. Go!"
She wheeled and ran.
The feeling grew more intense the closer she got to the college, though there was nothing in the sky to indicate an actual storm brewing. It was no surprise to her, as she crossed the bridge and made it into the courtyard, to find the entirety of the College—including, to her astonishment, a highly annoyed Urag gro-Shub—in the Courtyard, staring at the main building in alarm.
"What's going on?" she shouted as she ran up.
"We're not sure," Brelyna answered. "Something—there's something going on with the Eye, though. I think it's Ancano!"
Ravenlight looked around, noting that none of the three most senior wizards were present. "Where's the higher-ups? Mirabelle, Tolfdir, or Savos Aren?"
"Mirabelle and Savos Aren are still inside!" Faralda pushed forward. "They're trying to deal with Ancano and the Eye. I don't know exactly what's going on, but—"
"Get as many people down to town as possible," Ravenlight ordered, looking around at the crowded courtyard. "This will be a killing field if anything happens in there. I'll go in and find the others, see if I can't help in any way."
Faralda nodded. "Right." She turned, shouting to the others. "Move! Down into the town, quickly!"
Ravenlight pushed through the crowd, ignoring everyone as she made her way into the building. Inside, the rush of magic was so strong she flinched back for a moment, fighting against a strong desire to flee. But the desire only held her for a moment, as the Dov's fire and stubbornness suddenly raged to the front of her mind. Panic and fear cleared away, and she made her way forward, until she saw the three senior wizards standing together and staring at a whirlwind of blue magic filling most of the Hall of the Elements.
"What's going on?" she asked once she was close enough to be heard: the rush of magic sounded like a high wind funneled through the stones.
Mirabelle Ervine glanced at her. "We don't really know," she answered. "It's like a ward, almost, but we have no idea who's casting it, or how."
"Isn't Ancano in there?" Ravenlight tried to peer through the rippling magic.
"Yes, but...I don't think he's actively casting this." The woman frowned at it.
Savos Aren was seething. "I don't care what it is, I want it down now! I want to ask that fool what he's doing in there!" He glanced at her and visibly tried to calm himself. "You may have returned at the right time," he said. "Ancano has somehow locked himself in the Hall with the Eye. He's up to something, and I intend to stop it." He turned toward the ward. "Help us get through this, will you? We're throwing everything we have at it."
She didn't often use her spark spells, but she knew them well enough to pull them out. The Bosmer took her place beside the two senior wizards, thrust her hands out, and channeled lightning through both hands. In a few seconds, the ward collapsed, and they ran through.
She saw the source of the trouble at once: the Eye was pulsing wildly, and the Thalmor stood in front of it, casting power into it. She thought for a moment that he was using the same Spark spell that they had to break through the ward: but then she realized that, whatever he was using, it wasn't a typical spell at all.
"Ancano!" Savos Aren shouted, storming forward, "Stop this at once!"
"You think I would, fool?" The Thalmor glanced at them, and the naked madness in his eyes nearly made Ravenlight fall back a step. "You have no idea what this is. You have no idea of what I have now, at my fingertips, at my command!" He looked back at the Eye, his face hideous in the lurid flashes coming from the fluctuating orb. "You have no idea of what I am becoming! Talos. They will soon speak of Talos no longer! I am ascending! I will become a god myself!"
"So thought Dagoth Ur, you idiot!" Savos Aren lifted his hands to attack. "But while I may be no Nerevarine, I can certainly disabuse you of this foolish notion!"
Mirabelle screamed. "Savos, don't go near him!"
It was too late.
The world went white.
Drizzt stood by the arch over the pathway, staring across at the College. Behind him, the last of the staff came off the path, all of them looking over their shoulders as if expecting something like a pit fiend to come tearing after them at any moment. So far, no one had seen Savos Aren or Mirabelle, and Ravenlight had not come back, either.
He knew she'd asked him to stay in the town. He knew why, as well. But if something happened, if something went wrong over there...
A crash like a thunderclap echoed from the College, and the ground shook so hard that the nearby trees lost the snow on their branches. Behind him, most of the mages lost their footing. Drizzt leaned forward, staring in alarm. He reached for his blades. If she didn't appear in a few minutes, then he was going after her, no matter—
Shocked screams rose behind him, and he whirled, his eyes instantly widening. Strange—creatures had appeared, swirling, darting, spectral things more like ice wraiths than anything else he could name. There were dozens of them, and in the scant few seconds it took to register their presence, they started attacking everything in sight.
Drizzt's scimitars were out in a second, and he went after them. He didn't want to leave Ravenlight alone, not while he was still unsure of what had happened at the College. But his choice was clear: he couldn't leave fighting these...things to the mages of the College, not when so many of them were unused to combat.
He would just have to trust that his sister could take care of herself.
Ravenlight pushed herself up and blinked, the white haze clearing slowly from her vision. She was back among the pillars of the Hall of the Elements. In the middle of the room, the swirling power had once again swallowed Ancano and the Eye, though at the moment, it only engulfed the center of the room.
"Are you all right? Can you walk?"
She considered, and decided that she was, and could. While shaky, she felt no worse than the day she'd received the Graybeard's thunderous blessing. "I think I'm all right." She looked around to see who'd spoken to her and gasped. Mirabelle Ervine leaned against one of the pillars, breathing hard and holding her ribs. The Bosmer started to move toward her, but the woman shook her head and raised her hand.
"No, don't worry about me. I need you on your feet. Ancano is doing something with the Eye, and we can't stop him. Not on our own." She swallowed. "I—I haven't seen Savos since the explosion. He may have been blown clear, and he may be injured. I need you to find him. Quickly!"
"Yes, ma'am." Ravenlight hesitated a moment. "Are you..."
"I'll be fine. I just need a minute to catch my breath." Mirabelle stared at her urgently. "Find the Arch-Mage! Go!"
She moved away reluctantly, then whirled and started running.
One quick circuit of the Hall proved that Savos Aren wasn't in the Hall. And when she left the main portion of the building, she saw, just as quickly, that he wasn't in the outer chamber, either. However, the right side of the large double-door that led into the building hung half-open, and as she jogged up to it, she saw a large dark patch on the wood.
"Oh, no..."
She reached out and touched the mark. It was wet, and sticky, and she pulled her hand back with the fingertips reddened. Blood. And judging by the faint scent of ash, it was Dunmer blood. She clenched her fist, suddenly sure that Savos Aren had been deliberately attacked by the Thalmor, and was probably no longer alive. She pushed the door all the way open and entered the courtyard.
To her surprise, the courtyard wasn't deserted: three people stood around a fourth, someone who lay prone on the ground. Her heart sank as she came up to them: she had suspected that the Arch-Mage was dead, but had still hoped that he'd survived. One of the three looked up as she came over, then hurried up to her. It was Tolfdir.
"What happened in there? Are you all right?" The old mage looked her over anxiously.
"Ancano," Ravenlight spat. "He's completely insane, he's done something with the Eye."
"Ancano?" Tolfdir shook his head. "He's responsible for this, then? The Arch-Mage, dead?"
Ravenlight nodded. "I'm afraid so. Why are you three up here? Didn't Faralda start moving everyone back into town before I went in there?"
"She did." Colette Marence, who had been kneeling over the Arch-Mage's body, stood. "But when that thunderclap happened, we thought we'd better come up. The others are helping your friend deal with those...things in the town, so we thought it only right to make sure you and our senior wizards were safe."
"Things in town?" Ravenlight swallowed hard. "What things?"
"Some kind of magical anomaly," Toldfir answered. "They're rather vicious. But your friend led the attack; and they seem to be doing rather well down there, which was why we dared leave them and come here."
"Drizzt?" She ran to the College gate and looked out. Down below, she could see the strange, floating, wraith-like things, flashes of fire and lightning as the mages fought them, and glimpses of someone moving incredibly fast, light glinting off twin blades as he fought. Her hands clenched. "I have to get down there and help!"
"Go then!" Tolfdir made a quick shooing motion. "Where's Mirabelle?"
"She's still in the Hall of Elements!" Ravenlight pointed over her shoulder just before she started to run down the path again. "Be careful!"
Drizzt dodged as one of the anomalies flew at him again and slapped it aside with Twinkle. It was hard to tell if he was actually damaging the things—though he'd discovered, to his relief, that his enchanted scimitars could, and did, destroy them. It flew past him, whirled, then came after him again, hard—he thrust Icingdeath out at the last second and slashed through, rewarded with a blinding flash and a ear-piercing shriek as it dissolved.
That's four, he thought grimly, pursuing another silvery streak in hopes of reaching it before it attacked one of the younger mages. Just twenty left.
The inexperienced fighters were making things worse. Faralda may have been a battlemage: all her spells were accurately aimed, and just powerful enough to do the job without endangering anyone else. Phineas Gestor was there as well, two Atronachs aiding in the fight. Most of the senior mages, in fact, clearly knew what they were doing—even when 'what they were doing' was just staying out of the way. The students, on the other hand, were terrified, trying to help, and achieving the opposite.
"I want everyone not used to combat off the streets!" he roared, striking down another anomaly before it could savage Brelyna. "Get to shelter, now! Go!"
Thankfully, neither Brelyna nor Onmund needed another order, and while J'zargo was initially reluctant to go, he didn't resist when the Nord seized his arm and dragged him along to the inn. Nirya, at least, had already disappeared, while Tolfdir, Drevis Neloran, and Colette Marence had gone back to the College to see what had happened.
Urag gro-Shub, he was not entirely surprised to see, was going after the anomalies with a passion bordering on berserk rage. Clearly, the old Orc was no stranger to battle—and even more clearly, he was furious at being chased out of his library, and was taking his fury out on the attacking creatures.
We're not as outnumbered as I feared, he thought, dodging an attack from behind and whirling on the blue-white menace in a hailstorm of steel. Even so, I'd like a few more hardened veterans to help with these.
The flash of light nearly blinded him as he finished the anomaly, and he caught just a glimpse of someone rushing down the path, sword in hand, to join the fight. He heard two of the creatures charging him, coming from opposite directions, and hoped he could—
One of them suddenly screamed, answered by a sharp, angry cry and the glassy crash as metal slammed against its crystalline body. Drizzt smiled in relief. It was almost instinctive, after that: he and Ravenlight fell in beside each other, back-to-back when the creatures tried to swarm them, side-by-side while taking them head-on. They wheeled and twisted in a deadly knot, each one knowing immediately how the other would react when the anomalies came after them.
Between them, the Atronachs, Faralda, and the Loremaster, the remaining creatures went down fast. In less than fifteen minutes, the cries and crash of battle had died away, and all that was left of the strange things were milky, glittering puddles of some unidentifiable goop. Ravenlight stirred through one absently, and her eyebrows arched as she turned up a gleaming filled soul gem.
Drizzt wiped his blades and sheathed them, looking at her anxiously. "What happened at the College? There was...some kind of explosion, just before these things appeared."
Ravenlight sighed and rubbed her face, her shoulders sagging. "Savos Aren is dead," she said bluntly. The mages around her turned to stare, some with cries of shock. Drizzt, not entirely sure how they would take the news, moved just a little closer to her.
"What happened?"
"Ancano has activated the Eye," she said, confirming what he'd been afraid of since they'd left Mzulft. "We—Savos Aren, Mirabelle Ervine, and I—broke down his initial barrier, but he's...he's gone completely insane. He screamed at us about how he was becoming a god, then...I don't know what he did, but that's the explosion you heard. I escaped more or less unharmed; Mirabelle was banged up, and Savos Aren... Ancano had thrown him through the front doors. I found his blood on one of the panels, and his body was in the courtyard."
"Some of the senior mages went back up there to check on the College after the explosion," Drizzt said, realizing with relief that the mood among the rest of them was shock and disbelief, rather than hostility toward the bearer of the news. "Did you see them?"
She nodded. "They found his body before I did. Colette Marence was with them, so I sent them in to find Mirabelle." Unconsciously, she leaned against Drizzt, rubbing her head as she did. He put his arm around her. "This is bad," she said bitterly. "Might not personally compare to being in a prison cart beside Ulfric Stormcloak or Alduin's return, but on the whole? It feels like a miniature Oblivion crisis."
"Hopefully not that severe."
All eyes turned toward the archway as the four mages came through, Drevis Neloran carrying Savos Aren's body in his arms. Mirabelle gave Ravenlight a weak smile.
"The College has wards in place, strong ones, that will, hopefully, keep this would-be godling in place." Her smile slipped. "Though the Eye's power is testing them sorely. We'll do what we can to keep it from breaching them altogether, but we won't be able to stop him without Magnus's staff. I do hope you found its location?"
Ravenlight nodded. "Labyrinthian," she answered. "According to the map in the Oculory in Mzulft, anyway: there's a source of incredible magic power in there. It was the only thing not...overwhelmed by the presence of the Eye."
"And only the Staff would be equal." Mirabelle frowned a little. "Labyrinthian...how odd. Savos...Something happened to him in Labyrinthian, a long time ago; back when he was still a student, I believe. He would never speak of it to anyone, except to say that the place had been sealed for good reason, and that nothing in it was worth the risk." She turned to the body and gently removed an unusual torque from around his neck, then turned back to Ravenlight and held it out. "I noticed that whenever he mentioned Labyrinthian, he would always touch this, as a sort of afterthought. It may be connected in some way."
Ravenlight accepted the piece, looking it over curiously. It had appeared to be nothing more than a strange piece of jewelry at first glace; but once she started to actually examine it, it was less like jewelry and more like... In all honesty, it looked like some kind of extra-large door knocker. It was made of black iron, oiled to remove rust and ease the pitting caused by centuries out in the weather. It certainly didn't feel as though it had been designed to go around someone's neck: it was uncomfortably heavy, and the twisted design was ridged in a way that would fit well in a hand, but be incredibly unpleasant against skin. "He wore this? It would be like a shackle. Or worse."
Mirabelle nodded. "I never saw him without it."
The Bosmer shook her head. "I'm not sure I want to know why he wore this willingly. Hopefully, it will be what we need to get in." She lowered the torque, looking grimly back at the College. "Gods know, we need to get in. We've got to get that Staff before this situation gets any worse."
Finished! The angst is left behind and hopefully will not return. And pretty soon we'll be heading into Labyrinthian, which I can promise will be at least two chapters, just because of how big the dang place is.
As always, I look forward to your reviews. (For any nitpickers out there, yes, I know the Dwemer Centurions in the game don't actually have a crossbow built into them. This one does.)