Because it took me so long to get the last and this chapter done, I decided to not keep you waiting.
So, welcome to the new followers and the old ones. Welcome to the new readers and the old ones. And welcome ... well, to everyone.
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Enjoy your read and day!
Chapter 24
High cheekbones graced a soft, handsome face and he had hazel eyes. The subtle, slender curve of his ears betrayed the half Wood-Elf heritage within the young, Breton bastard if the flawless, tanned complexion of his skin wasn't enough of a dead give-away. Young Alvas' existence had never been welcomed by his father, Lord Erehardt, but his mother had birthed and loved her son in spite of it all. His existence alone was a defiance to his father, but if anyone so much as even caught a whiff of his intimacy with a Thalmor Justiciar, his ultimate rebellion, there would be hell to pay for all of them.
He had struggled to subdue the beast that stirred within him whenever the High Elf was close until one night, after a severe interrogation, Ondolemar had stepped in to stop his colleague from whipping the half-breed bastard until he was unconscious. It had all led to this moment where Ondolemar snuck into Alvas' room like he'd done plenty of times before, but that fear of them being discovered was always there. On the plus side, it also added to the excitement.
The Justiciar didn't give a damn, though and caught Alvas' lips in a passionate, demanding kiss he gladly returned. Alvas' lips parted to welcome the Altmer's tongue, growing weak in the knees when a deep sensual growl reverberated from Ondolemar's chest. He had never felt so wanted, craved and desired by a man who was meant to despise him for everything that he was, but the High Elf had made his intentions quite clear.
Ondolemar's touch left a wake of goosebumps on Alvas' slender torso. "Please…Tonight…" Alvas groaned when the High Elf's teeth nipped at his skin before suckling at the sweet spot. His nails dug into. "Take me…tonight….Please?"
"Again and again if I can." Ondolemar dug his nails into Alvas' behind and ground his hips against Alvas'. The half-breed took a sharp breath as their erections ground against one each other. Alvas had already left his tunic undone, clad in only pants. All that was between them now was the fabric of his breeches and of the Thalmor's robes. With shaking fingers, Alvas struggled to unfasten the clasps of Ondolemar's robes, who didn't make it any easier for him to focus when the Altmer's hand took a firm hold of Alvas' groin.
"Ondolemar…" Alvas' ground his hips against the Justiciar's touch who shrugged the robes off his shoulders with a smirk. No one had looked at him like Alvas did, who was awed with his beauty. His slender, feminine and soft hands stroked the High Elf's chest and his lips left countless, loving, quick kisses before he smiled, mischievous, and flicked the tip of his tongue over a hard nipple. Ondolemar growled, muffling the half-breed's startled yelp when Ondolemar hitched Alvas' legs to straddle his hips. Alvas wrapped his arms around Ondolemar's neck, giving in to another, passionate kiss. His 'oomph' was followed by giggles when the High Elf threw him down on the bed and climbed on top of him.
"Alvas…" Ondolemar's breath was hot and his voice husky. There was a warmth in his eyes when he gazed down upon the imperfect, handsome little half-breed he'd fallen head over heels with. "Are you sure? It will hurt at first. I will be gentle, I promise, but…"
"Mara watches over us tonight," Alvas kissed Ondolemar, running his fingers over the shaven scalp before rubbed the length of the High Elf's ear. "I want you…"
Ondolemar closed his eyes and groaned when Alvas grabbed a firm hold of his behind and their hips ground against one another. "I'll make sure you'll never forget this night, Alvas." But their passionate love-making was crudely interrupted by Ancano, who had warned of Elenwen's early return.
Ondolemar stared into the fire, which wasn't as intense as Ganir's unwavering gaze. "Ancano burst into the room to find me on top and inside of Alvas to warn me of Elenwen's return. When he learned she was going to 'keep things simple', he immediately rushed over…" Ondolemar's cheeks glowed hot-red with embarrassment while at the same time completely caught in the moment of that intense memory, but it didn't sadden him. "It wasn't just our friendship that had me help Ancano when you appeared on my doorstep in Markarth. He didn't just safe my ass that night, but he helped Alvas and his mother escape the estate…" Ondolemar rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. "Not long after that, Elenwen found the dissidents, but they had hidden amongst the refugees. When Ancano refused to give his men the orders to attack, Elenwen got furious and took control. They were all killed… Though he was right, Ancano was disgracefully demoted from the rank of Justiciar…It could have been worse, trust me… I maintained my rank because I was under his wing at the time…It's how he ended up being sent to Skyrim to spy on Winterhold and I to Markarth…under her command." Ondolemar's chuckle was bitter, "There you have it. The depravity of an ex-Thalmor Commander of the Justiciars in Skyrim who bedded a half-breed of the same sex."
The Dark Elf stared into the flames. "If you really thought of him as that, you wouldn't have given him the time of day," Ganir said, but he sounded understanding rather than judgmental. "It's what confuses me about your people…or the Thalmor, rather. You are so caught up and blinded by the sense of superiority, bloodlines and 'breeding', you forget the value of love and life."
"Everything that happened to Ancano, especially recently, really opened my eyes." Ondolemar said. "Don't misunderstand me; I do believe my people is vastly superior in a variety of matters; we're a magnificent, beautiful and magical race who possess great power and knowledge. But if we truly are so, then we should know better than think that genocide is an answer to regain our divinity. We'd be no better than your average Daedric Prince. One would think the Oblivion Crisis taught us this…"
Ganir raised a brow. "Divinity?"
Ondolemar took a sharp breath and ran his hand over his scalp. "This isn't common knowledge, but …Where do I even begin? The Thalmor are the governing body of the Aldmeri Dominion. For all its political agendas, they're not keen on sharing that they're not out to simply rule all of Tamriel. They seek to eradicate Talos' existence from the divine pantheon and eradicate all human life so we can ascend to our ancestors and become truly immortal and godly. It's the main reason why I have to help aside from our friendship. If this were to happen, it could very well unbalance the scale of all creation. Alduin's return alone is testament to this!"
Ganir was shocked to hear this, but for some reason, not that surprised. It made sense why the Thalmor were out to butcher the Blades and why they had been adamant to forbid Talos-worship and hunt them down. Ondolemar shivered when the Dragonborn gave him a sharp look, "It's why Ancano was tampering with the Eye of Magnus, wasn't he?"
"I doubt he'll ever tell what he intended to do, or what he's experienced…" Ondolemar looked away from the burning, red eyes. "But you trust him, right? Do you trust me?"
"I don't trust anyone." Ganir had responded quickly and was far too focused on fastening the buckles of his armor. "Whatever you do. Don't place too much faith in me either. I only intend to stop Alduin. I have no desire to get caught up in some political war. Burned myself on that once and don't plan too again." Ganir then sheathed his daggers after making sure they were sharp and clean. "Let's go."
Ondolemar wondered how Ganir had been 'burned' before and wondered if the Oblivion Crisis had anything to do with it. He had refused to talk about it in-depth, if he would even answer any questions at all. Nevertheless, they had been here for quite a while as Ondolemar needed to rest and regain his strength. Now that he was fit again, he was more than eager to leave the smelly hut behind. He secured the clasps on the chest piece of his robes and followed the Dark Elf outside to the vantage point that looked out over the massive, stone plaza secured behind ornate gates.
The lone, inactive Steam Centurion looked so forlorn, but it was a shared concern for both the elves. "I know the Dwemer too well. The moment we open those gates, that Centurion will be activated as part of the defense mechanism," Ganir said.
"It's not an obstacle we can't overcome," Ondolemar countered. "Calcelmo taught me that as brilliant as the Dwemer were, there is a flaw in their design. Their automatons function on the resonance of a soulgem that powers the dynamo to heat their water reservoir. They're energized by magic and steam, which powers their hydraulic system…"
"You lost me at 'magical resonance'," Ganir blinked. He wasn't stupid, but in-depth details such as these he considered more of a 'nice-to-know' basis than a 'need-to-know' basis.
Ondolemar heaved a sigh. Incorrigible. "That energy they build has to go somewhere. On their back, near the base of their neck, is an exhaust. Block that and the machine will deactivate itself to prevent from overheating and blowing up."
"I have a suspicion of what your plan is and I don't like it." Ganir grumbled.
"It's easy. You just keep it busy and I'll cram a rock in the hole. It's an easily done and over with tactic if executed properly." The Dark Elf looked at the High Elf as if he was mad, sounding far too optimistic.
The Dark Elf unleashed a barrage of what had to be swearwords under his breath in his own language before he hopped off the rock. "All right then, let's get to it." Just because this was perhaps the easiest way to handle a menacing, metal machine that could easily crush and pulverize them, didn't mean he looked forward to be cannon fodder…again…as usual…
The two elves made their way over to the gate and simultaneously pulled the levers at each side of the gate. The walls shook as the massive, ornate steel gates shoved the dirt and rocks out of its way to open, but the loudest racket came from the Centurion's holding station. Bolts snapped lose and another mechanism, upon release, gave a spark which activated the Steam Centurion's dynamo.
The machine's massive, heavy steel feet left indentations in the stone floor as it stomped out of its holding place. Countless gears and pistons whirred and buzzed loudly as it straightened itself up and locked on Ganir.
"Oh come on!" The Dark Elf exclaimed and he made a run up to the central plaza so he had the space to outmaneuver the automaton. The machine raised its right arm which was shaped into a sword, but below, it revealed a hollow tube from which a bolt (or a spear, rather) was launched. Had Ganir not leapt out of the way in time, it would have gone straight through him but instead obliterated the fountain. When the machine deducted that he hadn't hit its target, it raised its left arm, shaped like a mace to crush Ganir. The Dark Elf ducked as the spiked metal was swung over his head, but the Centurion used the momentum of his swing to raise the mace over its head and then smash it into the ground.
Ganir rolled out of the way in time, shielding his face from the shattered stone that was sent flying upon the mace's impact. "Ondolemar, you had better be quick about this!"
"Just keep its attention, I need to find the right moment-ACK!" The Steam Centurion's pistons went in overdrive to pull its mace-arm free from the stone, but when it came lose, the machine stumbled back. Ondolemar ran out of the way to avoid being crushed under the feet. Ganir saw the machine's head turn to Ondolemar and began to throw rocks at it to get its attention again.
After observing the effort it took the Steam Centurion to break free, the Dark Elf had an idea.
"What are you doing?!" Ondolemar exclaimed when the Dark Elf casually hopped back while pelting rocks at the metal menace, whose face was carved with a permanent scowl. But when the Steam Centurion stomped down the stone steps, the High Elf realized what he was planning and he waited for the automaton to raise its mace and slam it into the steps. Ganir landed with little grace when he leapt back, but his plan had worked. The armed arm was stuck in the stone and Ondolemar didn't hesitate for a second. He bolted towards the machine and took a running jump to grab hold of a vent and cram the rock in his other hand into the exhaust pipe.
"Get off!" Ganir shrieked, panicking when the machine had somehow managed to detect the High Elf and its head and torso spun on their axels to face Ondolemar, who looked outright terrified by this unexpected development. The High Elf's eyes went wide when the machine raised its sword-arm. If he were to jump now, it would hit him either way. Ganir's mind reeled and he ran up the steps to face the automaton. "FUS RO!" With the combined momentum that its mace-arm was stuck, and his other arm was knocked back, the massive machine stumbled backwards. Ganir leapt, kicking the machine against the chest and he dug his claws into the High Elf's shoulders to pull him off.
The machine fell, the exhaust hot-red and fuming but it couldn't free the rock in its exhaust, nor could it prevent its fall. An odd, deep hum resounded from the Steam Centurion, who had powered down before it hit the ground with a loud CLANK, ringing quite painfully in both the elves' ears, but they had made it.
The Dark Elf cleared his throat. "You can…let…go now…You know?"
Ondolemar glared at the vampire, who had raised his brow with a grin when his cheeks glowed hot red. "Not. A. Word to Ancano…Understand?"
"Wouldn't dare." The Dark Elf grabbed the Altmer's extended hand and pulled himself up. "Good job though. You didn't scream this time."
"I'll never hear the end of this, will I?" Ondolemar grumbled.
"Ancano doesn't either." Ganir shrugged. "You should see the twitch of his brow whenever you accuse him of 'nearly blowing up the College."
"And he hasn't killed you yet, why exactly?" Ondolemar shook his head and the two of them made their way through the doors that had opened as well, only to be greeted by a rather sad sight.
Ganir knelt down at the dead Imperial, whose face was beaten beyond recognition by the spiked, round shield the Redguard woman must have wielded. She also lay dead, impaled by the Imperial short sword.
"Well, that takes care of the Synod…" Ondolemar said dryly and he made his way over to the raised, stone quadrangle, which wasn't an altar, but the mechanism Septimus and Calcelmo had both referred too. On top of this tablet, rested an intricate, Dwemer steel and glass-lensed device with an empty, hollow space where the attunement sphere would fit.
"What's wrong?" Ganir asked.
"Nothing…it's just…" Ondolemar ran his fingers over the carvings. "I don't know what it's like for you, or even in your interest, but we are about to open the doors to a place so ancient and forgotten where no mortal has set foot in centuries…And we just rediscovered it…"
Scholars…But Ganir knew that if he had been here with Cirilonde, she would have been just as awed and excited. "I'll have you do the honors then…" The Dark Elf pulled the attunement sphere out of his bag and handed it to the Altmer, who gladly took it. With surprising gentleness, the Altmer placed the tool into the device and turned it. With a satisfying 'click', the machine's lenses began to turn and aligned. The stone floor shook and the carved area around them, save for where they were stood, began to descend, revealing a spiraling stairway down.
After Ganir checked for traps, Ondolemar followed him down to the door which was heavy and hard to push open, but they finally managed.
What they saw beyond that door, neither had held possible, nor did they believe their eyes.
After blinking repeatedly, and then squinting their eyes, they then went wide in awe at the forlorn, hidden beauty of Blackreach and immediately understood its name.
The foundation of Alftand, was Blackreach's rock ceiling, illuminated by glowing fungi as though starlit. Humongous mushrooms and their strands glimmered in varieties of teal, electric blue and purple like the fungi on the 'ceiling', illuminating the city in the darkest black of the underground citadel, marked with countless towers, ruined settlements and in the distance they could see a massive fortress. Even the water held a radiance that gave this whole place an image beyond dreams and tales either had ever heard of or dared to dream of before.
Ondolemar moved his mouth to speak, but no words came. His breath was simply taken away by the beauty of it all. Thankfully for him, Ganir, while awed, never ceased to lower his guard and covered the High Elf's mouth, gesturing for silence. They lowered themselves to the floor as silently as they could…Five Falmer stood not too far away from them on the cobbled path, hissing, growling and looking around. They had heard the door open and shut.
"Follow me." Ganir mouthed and the two elves crawled over the floor on their bellies to a safer spot in the shadows, where they waited for the Falmer to continue their way.
Relieved they hadn't been spotted, Ondolemar let out a sigh. "Place is crawling with Falmer…"
"You've seen that little abode, though?" Ganir quipped, pointing at the little intact Dwemer 'house' of sorts that stood at the 'road' where the Falmer had been earlier.
"You think it's safe to enter?" Ondolemar queried.
"Let me go check out. Stay here." Before he could even protest, the Dark Elf had hopped from shadow to shadow without a sound and made his way over. Ganir winced when he gently pushed the door inward and it creaked. He waited for a few seconds and looked around to make sure the coast was still clear. He then opened the door far enough to peek in and then wiggled his way past the crevice. He didn't want to completely open it and accidentally alert whatever else lurked in here besides the Falmer.
What in the…The Dark Elf's brows knitted together in confusion and many questions whirled through his mind when he found a recently killed High Elf lying on the floor. His body barely showed signs of decompose so he had to be dead for at least two or three days…
It wasn't hard to figure out how the Altmer had met his end, however, as three Falmer arrows stuck out from his back. Not eager to leave Ondolemar alone for too long, he silently opened the door further and signaled for him to come over. With a swift incantation, the Altmer cast a spell of invisibility and made his way over, his body tensing visibly when he too saw the dead elf.
"Who in…how?" he asked as soft as he could. Ganir shut the door behind them.
"I don't know. Was hoping to find out. Falmer killed him, that's for sure, but he's only been dead for three days maximum…" Ganir replied. "Given all these tools and supplies, though, he must know this place. We should look for something of use, like a journal, or a map…"
The abode was perfect, in a sense. It was small, with a Dwemer, stone bed against the left wall and an ornate but small cabinet with enough room to store a few clothes. To the right, taking up the entire wall, was a stone slab connected to the walls, where an alchemy table had been placed and was littered with a wide variety of ingredients. The Dark Elf knelt down at the bed's foot-end and rummaged through the bag while Ondolemar rummaged through the shelves and cabinets at the alchemy table.
It was Ganir, however, who found something. "Look at this…" Ganir whispered. "This journal…Sinderion…Skingrad…" The Dark Elf's eyes looked distant all of the sudden. He could have met this man.
"Don't jest…!" Ondolemar nearly tore the journal out of Ganir's hand in disbelief, looking at the High Elf and then back at the journal. "Auri-El…This is the Sinderion. That poor bastard…"
"Even I heard of him…or, well, sort of." Ganir scratched the back of his head. "He was in Skingrad when I was dealing with the Crisis. Heard the rumors of some mysterious plant that had been discovered. Seems his research led him here."
"If it wasn't so gods-be-damned dangerous here, I'd want to…Oh, hello…What's this now?" Ondolemar shook the journal and a loose sheet of parchment fell from between the pages. "It's a map…"
They immediately laid it out on the bed. "Just look at this…" Ondolemar was like a child at the bakery who had just gotten the most tasty, freshest sweet roll known to history. Ganir couldn't help but grin. It was endearing and quite interesting to see him so expressive.
His eyes scanned the map where Sinderion had not only charted his findings, but also made notes and scribblings.
"Look here…to the far South South-East…Tower Mzark." Ondolemar's finger tapped the specific location on the map. "The Elder Scroll has to be here."
The Dark Elf's fingers toyed with one of the golden earrings. "The way there is quite out in the open…Could you maintain an invisibility spell for that long?"
"I should be able too," Ondolemar nodded. "Please, take this with you. We must look into this at a later date."
"Just know I'm not going to play Falmer exterminator. I'm too occupied in the dragon business at the moment," he joked while packing the journal and map into his bag. "Let's go. And be careful."
The High Elf nodded and the two elves didn't waste any time. They knew where they had to go and staying here would only risk their discovery. After making sure the coast was clear, they darted along the walls and followed the path up to the tower Mzark. It came as quite a surprise to find there was nothing of danger anywhere to be seen.
Surrounded by water with only a stone bridge leading there, the Tower of Mzark was a lone building in the utmost corner of Blackreach. The two elves double-checked the door for traps, but found none and made their way in.
The square, levelled hall was completely deserted but showed signs of having been inhabited. Judging by the old, dried bloodstains and bones, there had been some sort of fight here long ago and the building had been abandoned since.
Ganir stood still for a few seconds, his keen senses trying to detect any signs of life before they crossed the hallway and walked up to the rotund alcove at the end of a corridor. On the floor in the center, surrounded by steel grates, was a lever, which they pulled. The gears made quite the racket and the floor shook before it lift them upwards, initially startling both elves, fearing they would be crushed to death, but they realized they were in an ancient elevator that beyond understanding, still functioned without flaw.
They emerged on the next level, where they found a massive, Dwemer steel and lensed orb that nearly occupied the whole of the room, sparing just enough for a stone, winding walkway to lead up.
"Auri-El…" Ondolemar and he both looked up at the facetted ceiling where steel arms held large, glass lenses with symbols, but their eyes were mainly focused on the egg-shaped glass at the center, surrounded by vine-shaped bars of Dwemer steel.
"Can you feel that too?" Ganir's pupils had dilated. "Like the wind is blowing, but there is no wind. There is a deafening silence…"
"There's definitely an Elder Scroll in there." Ondolemar concluded. "Come on."
The Dark Elf had no idea how they were going to get it, but Ondolemar clearly had figured out how or perhaps even knew. They made their way up to the machine's control panel, which looked out over the top of the humongous sphere. Within its center, lay three, hollow disks which could rotate in place, permitting for the round, lensed and steel 'ball' within to rotate.
"Alignment…Light…Correlation with the stars…So that means…" Ondolemar muttered. "Ganir. The Lexicon."
"Do you know how this works?" Ganir asked, handing him the lexicon.
"No. But I have an idea…"
The control panel was beyond Ganir's comprehension, so he was thankful for Ondolemar's presence, who seemed to have a natural insight for this device, which already frustrated him to no end for confusing him so.
The control panel consisted of four cylindrical pillars with buttons? And to the far right of it, was another pillar with four pins, where the lexicon fit perfectly when Ondolemar placed it there.
The machine immediately sprung to life and the grated 'lid' over two of the buttons slid away so Ondolemar could operate it.
"All right…Quiet. I need to concentrate." Ondolemar said before he pushed one of the buttons. Ganir winced and covered his ears. The machine's hydraulic hissed and ground loudly as the inner bearing began to rotate within, showing it had multi-facetted lenses all over its surface. It was a complex process and Ganir understood very little of how Ondolemar managed to figure this out so easily and so he watched, grateful for the High Elf's presence and intrigued.
"So this must operate the lenses…And if I have it properly aligned…" Ondolemar pushed the third button which had become available to him and the lenses attached to the arms on the ceiling rung as they were lowered and turned to illuminate the lenses on the bearing after a part of the ceiling had receded upwards to reveal a light source.
When the light connected with the lenses, the protected egg was lowered to the center and with a loud click, the whole machine locked itself in place. The steel 'vines' parted and a glass 'lid' opened itself outward, revealing a solid, thick and ornate scroll.
"I can't believe it…" Ondolemar gasped, his awe never ending. "That insane bat wasn't even lying…"
Ganir even had to admit he was completely taken aback. This was definitely no ordinary spell-scroll or some fancy, rolled-up parchment of no value or power. He had felt it and still did.
"Wait…" Ondolemar grabbed Ganir's shoulder. "We need to be very careful. Remember Septimus' warning."
"Well, come help me out then," Ganir said with a grin. "This is our discovery. Our moment of glory."
"Imagine the look of Ancano's face if he were here." The two elves made their way down and carefully lift the scroll from its holding place, weighing a good ten pounds or so.
"It's all possible…" Ganir's fingers stroked the ornate seal. "Everything is possible with this."
"Now you finally understand," Ondolemar smiled.
"Will you come with me to High Hrothgar?" Ganir asked. "I…I want you to be there. You won't believe your eyes."
"After all this, I'll believe anything." Ondolemar laughed, filled with a mirth and excitement he hadn't felt in years. He looked at the Dark Elf Dragonborn, who was positively beaming, sharing the sentiment and emotions he felt.
As crazy and potentially suicidal as this whole trip had been, this had been their adventure. Little did they know, it had only just begun.