Big ole thank you to Breather, my truly fantastic beta. And, of course, to all those who leave their thoughts after reading. I appreciate that you take the time. Especially since we've breached 100 reviews! Wow, you guys are fantastic! Now if you'll please excuse me, I need to go squeeee.

Deanne lay in bed, wide awake. The faint snores around the edges of the rush of the focus point told her the Hall of Attainment slumbered. All was quiet and still. And yet her heart thudded in her chest, loud enough that someone must already know what she was considering. She hadn't even made the decision yet, and she still feared discovery.

It had been four nights since the door had spoken. It hadn't said a word since, but every night she found herself walking this new path down to reach it. So the dreams weren't related to the summoning disaster. And it still felt important. The Archmage had told her to ignore it. The Midden was forbidden. She shouldn't even be considering this. Not at all! It was dangerous. Against the rules. That should have been the end of it…

But almost two months of the same instructional dream with no deviation, the same vision experienced through the focus point, and a standing sense of importance…

Deanne pushed back the covers and slipped her feet into her shoes. She stood upright and hesitated. What was she doing? This was the most reckless thing she'd ever considered. Going down into the Midden? It was going to get her killed for certain.

Slow steps brought her out of her chamber and up to the rounded edge of the focus point. This was going to be it. If…if she 'saw' anything here, she'd go. If not, then she would return to bed and ignore the dreams and never concern herself with it again.

Another long pause, fearful of the result of her own mental bargain… Then she pulled up her sleeve and dipped her hand down into the molten magicka. The surge of power swam up into her arm immediately, rushing, coursing through her veins, filling her up until Deanne feared she might burst. The immensity of the College opened to her, senses melding with the magical flow out in the stones and the air, wrapping around and through the walls and the chambers and the halls, mapping her home with magic in her mind—

Down, down, down. The pit of bones—the cell and warden—the forge of Oblivion—the silent sentinel—the frozen bridge and its guard—the door. Still patient, still waiting, still there—

Deanne pulled her hand free, oddly calm. That was it then. She…she would go. The anxious indecision lifted and she felt clear, for better or worse. She would do it. She would follow this path she'd been given. If she'd been shown the way every night for so long, it had to be important.

But...maybe not alone. Fang might be enough for wandering the College, but not for the Midden. There was no telling what else was down there. It was forbidden and dangerous for a reason, wasn't it?

Deanne moved around the focus point and up to the appropriate door. Inside was quiet. Not even snoring. Deanne stood in the entrance, straining to hear something indicating Brelyna's presence. Sure enough, there was a shifting of the bedcovers where the apprentice was curled up and fast asleep. Deanne tip-toed over, her legs bumping gently into the mattress, and reached out until she felt a shoulder beneath the blanket. "Brelyna?" she whispered, shaking lightly. The woman stirred, but settled quickly. Deanne jostled her a bit harder. "Brelyna."

It was enough to wake her. Brelyna groaned and rolled over, pulling slightly free of the blanket. "Deanne? …What are you doing up?"

"I need to ask you something," Deanne whispered back.

The apprentice groaned again as she stretched, then went lax. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"No." Deanne's heart drummed in place, now anxious about Brelyna's answer. She took a deep breath. "I'm going down into the Midden. But I don't want to go by myself. Would you come with me?"

It took several seconds for Brelyna's sleep addled brain to fully comprehend what had been said. Then she sat up fast. "The Midden? Are you mad?!"

"Shhhh!" Deanne tried to hush the apprentice, fearing waking anyone else with this.

Brelyna lowered her voice, but she was by no means finished. "You can't be serious! After what happened? After the Archmage forbade the Midden to everyone? You can't really be thinking about going down there, can you?"

Deanne flinched but tried to explain. "It's important. Please, Brelyna, I know how it seems. But it's not about a spell or anything. It's…" Well…she might as well say. "I've been having a dream for weeks now. One where I go down into the Midden, exactly the same way. There's a door down there. And the other night, someone spoke from the other side. There's someone down there, Brelyna. And I need to meet them. It's important."

"Important? A dream? This is all about a dream? Deanne, listen to yourself. You can't really be thinking about this. It's mad. And besides, if there is someone living down there, they can't be any good. You're thinking about risking your life for that? Come on! You'll be killed wandering around down there!"

Deanne deflated. Brelyna did make some excellent points, points Deanne had been struggling with. Except her dreams weren't just dreams. The summoning disaster had proved that; her mind wasn't just making things up. There was someone down there. There was.

"…I'm sorry. Forget I said anything." Deanne rose from Brelyna's bed, still regretful. "Sorry. I shouldn't have woken you. Never mind. Fo-forget I said anything."

Deanne scurried out of the room, stopping outside to lean against the wall for support. What had she been thinking? She couldn't—shouldn't be asking anyone for help. The Magisters would deny her access to the Midden at all, let alone an investigation of the door. The Archmage had, and of course the others would. Even—or perhaps especially—Faralda. And her friends… She shouldn't have even thought about involving them. Brelyna was right: the Midden had to be dangerous. Dangerous enough that Deanne could be killed going down there. That wouldn't keep her from going. No, no. But—if she was going—hers should be the only life risked. No one else's. It was better that way.

Deanne took a deep breath, standing straight and tall, and focused on the front door. She was going to do this. By herself. With that, Deanne walked the distance and grasped the cold metal door handle and pulled it open to—

"Deanne!" Brelyna's hiss made her freeze in place. "What are you doing?"

The ward closed the door softly, not wanting the blustering winds outside to possibly wake the Hall. "Go back to bed. It's okay."

But no reassurance would calm the apprentice. "You can't!" Brelyna came streaking across the Hall to reach her. "You can't go down there. You'll die!"

"I don't know that. You don't know that. I might. But I might not." Deanne sighed, still firm. "Whatever is down there, it's important. I know it. It's not just a dream. I…I need to do this."

The apprentice blustered in place, struggling briefly with how to— "I'll tell. I'll go over to the Hall of Countenance and tell Mirabelle. Or Faralda. I'll do it right now!"

Deanne was taken aback by the fierceness of the declaration. That would stop her…for now. If Deanne didn't get to the entrance before one of the Magisters caught up with her. Or if they found her down there before she found the door. It was entirely likely they would stop her attempt. But regardless—

"Then I'll go tomorrow. Or the day after. Or in a week, or a month." She reached out and grasped Brelyna's shoulders before she could interrupt. "Brelyna, I know what this seems like. I do. And I've thought about it a lot. But...I need to do this. I know that I do. It isn't just a dream and it is important. Please believe me."

Brelyna didn't speak. Too shocked, perhaps, that Deanne was still so set on doing this forbidden thing. Deanne released her. "Look, I'm going. Now or later. Just go back to bed. Pretend I never woke you. If anything happens, it's not your fault. I promise."

Her friend didn't move. She made some sounds in her throat struggling to come out as words. When they finally succeeded, they didn't have nearly the bite of before. "…You're really doing this?"

"Yes."

Another long pause. Then, the fire was back. The previously frantic apprentice set like mortar. "Then you're not going alone."

"Brelyna—"

"No! You're not going alone. Just…let me change. Alright? If we're going to go, we should take some things. …And you should wear something other than your night gown."

Deanne paused, then flushed when she realized she was still in her bed clothes. By the Eight, she was glad she'd woken Brelyna now.

The two of them split up and returned to their rooms. Deanne changed into her robes, rewrapping her mantle securely before going to wait at the door again. Brelyna was there a few minutes later, riffling through a bag as she approached. "Alright: scrolls, potions, staff. Okay, I'm ready." A staff point clinked against the stone as she came to a stop, and she asked carefully, "Deanne, are you sure about this?"

Deanne didn't even hesitate. "Yes. There's a reason I've been having this vision. I know there is. Are you sure about this?"

Brelyna laughed weakly. "What kind of friend would I be if I let you go off on your own like this? Come on," and she hooked an arm around Deanne's, "Let's get this over with—before I change my mind." Deanne smiled appreciatively and opened the door for them both.

It was terribly cold outside, with the winds and the snowflakes kissing her face. Deanne couldn't have told the differences between day and night except for the fact that it was so very much colder out here. Brelyna and Deanne both shivered and drew closer together. Thankfully, Deanne knew they wouldn't be out in the elements for long. This time, it was Deanne who guided her companion. She turned them left and they walked along the inside of the College's walls, away from the front gate and the Hall of Countenance. She had taken this path every night for weeks. Often enough that she didn't even need to count her steps as she walked. The knowledge was ingrained in her by now.

Except there was an errant sound. She heard it, almost drowned out by the winds off the ocean. Almost. Deanne slowed and turned her head such that her ears might catch what was happening behind. Another sound, not the same but not nothing. She stopped. Brelyna halted beside her. "What is it?"

Deanne listened intently. Then she almost struck herself for her foolishness. A cast of 'detect life' revealed Brelyna's glowing essence beside her…and another positioned somewhere behind. Deanne turned on the spot and demanded, as firmly as her stuttered heart would allow, "Who's there?" No answer. And Brelyna, though tense, didn't say a word. "I know you're there. Show yourself!"

After another moment, the light moved, there was a shuffling of snow and the sound of a pair of boots on the stone walkway. Brelyna provided the identification. "Onmund! What are you doing out here? Why are you following us?"

He came up to them and responded, somewhat sheepishly, "I heard you inside…" His next words seemed to be to Deanne. "You know this is a bad idea, right? After what happened?"

Deanne held tightly to Brelyna. "…Are you going to tell?"

"I will if I don't come with you. If you girls are going down there, then so am I!"

Brelyna was more shocked than Deanne. "You realize this is against the College rules, right? You could get expelled. You just got here!"

That prospect was a blow, but it didn't stay him for long. "Well, it's like you said: what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't come with you. Right?"

Deanne hated the idea that her actions might hurt her friends. But, Divines, it was so wonderful that they would come to her side. Even if Brelyna was muttering next to her, "We're all going to be expelled. I just know it."

These circumstances were dire. They could be hurt or killed on this quest Deanne was setting them out on. Or expelled when they got back. "Onmund, are you sure?"

He answered more quickly this time. "Yes. Absolutely." He exulted, "I've always wanted to go on adventure!" The declaration was appreciated, even if it did sound forced.

Deanne patted Brelyna's hand. "You don't need to come, you know."

Once again, the reassurance sparked reaffirmation from her friend. "Oh, yes I do." To prove the point, Brelyna spun the two of them on the spot, pointing right back in the direction Deanne had been taking them. The hand grasping her arm was shaking just a little. "Let's get on with this—before I change my mind," and Brelyna walked them forward purposefully.

"Hey!" Onmund yelped behind them. "Let me lace up my shoes. I was in a hurry. Wait up!" He was only a moment behind them and quickly dashed up to walk at Deanne's other shoulder. And Deanne couldn't help the broad smile that their companionship brought to her.

It wasn't much further. The wind changed, indicating the broad expanse of the College building approaching up ahead. Not much further.

Brelyna questioned, "Deanne, are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Yes," Deanne reassured her.

"Just checking. Because…that's a wall."

Deanne found herself smiling, in further spite of the circumstances. Within ten steps of the wall, she brought them to a halt and detached herself from Brelyna. Deanne reached out, physically and magically, to the stone floor right at the edge of the outer wall. It should be right…there! From her dreams she knew the lock and fashioned her magicka to fit. The hidden door responded, runes coming alive at her touch. There was a grinding of stone and her companions gasped. Without needing to see it, Deanne knew there was now a gaping hole in the floor, just waiting to admit them.

She sighed in relief—further assured that her vision was true—and turned back to them. "Last chance. I…I really can go on alone. I know the way. You don't need to get in trouble for me."

Brelyna marched forward and linked their arms together. "Stop saying that. I'm coming, and that's final."

Onmund, likewise, came up and slipped his hand into hers, squeezing firmly. "Me, too. We'll do this together." Deanne beamed, almost overwhelmed. Onmund released her hand and proceeded toward the opening as if he were storming it. "I'll go first!" Deanne felt him summon candlelight and take the group's first steps down into the Midden. Brelyna and Deanne followed close behind.

It was no warmer in the passages than it had been outside, but at least they were no longer assaulted by wind and snow. The tunnels breathed in their own subtle way, tiny sounds of stone and ice that echoed alongside the trio's footsteps. Brelyna stayed latched to Deanne's side the whole way. Onmund led as long as his Candlelight held up. When he ran out of magicka, Brelyna took over, the two of them switching as one or the other were depleted. Deanne didn't need the light. Blindness aside, she could have walked this path alone and never miss-stepped.

They came upon the first marker: the pit of bones. Onmund started when he saw it, and let out a sickened groan. "Stendarr's mercy, what did they do down here?" Brelyna clapped a hand over her mouth and turned from the pit and its contents. The three of them hurried on.

The second marker: the warden and the cell of pain. Deanne detected a metallic quality of the air before Brelyna saw the skeleton splayed out on the ground before the cell just off the main passage. The apprentice whimpered sympathetically and Onmund gave an audible grimace. "Poor fool. What do you think killed him?" The question was asked warily, out of concern that it be something still in place.

Deanne recalled the echoes of what had happened here and corrected him. "Something of his own doing. He was trying to keep someone in."

She felt the Candlelight spell grow stronger and Onmund began to gag. However long ago it had been, the smell of long congealed blood and gore covering the walls remained. As did the detritus. "Let's keep going," she prompted, reaching out for his elbow and keeping Brelyna's close. "Watch your step, and don't cast a flame. There's still oil on the floor."

They continued, with equal parts haste and care. Yards past the cell, Onmund gasped loudly and then shuddered hard. He'd been holding his breath until they were out of range. "No wonder we're not allowed down here. The magisters don't want anyone to know that the College is built on bones!"

Deanne corrected him again. "The College is much older than what was done down here."

Brelyna shook her head free of the grisly scene behind them. "Y-you said you knew the way. Your dream. How much did you see?"

The change of subject was welcome, though it didn't lift the heavy atmosphere of the Midden passages. "The path from the entrance to the door. I know it by heart."

"And that includes…everything?"

"Everything along the way. Yes. If we get off the path, though…" That would be something to worry about.

Onmund asked, "So what is it we're going to be dealing with? What else is down here?" Deanne hoped he wasn't rethinking his decision to come.

"Well…we've passed the bone pit, and the cell and warden. Next is the forge of Oblivion. Then the sentinel. Then the frozen bridge. The door will be right past it."

"Forge of Oblivion… Is that it?" Brelyna asked as they came out into an open room.

Deanne could feel another change in the air, contained to this chamber and the one connected to it. There was magic here, permeating everything. The heavy, alien magic of conjuration, old and painstakingly crafted. Her companions were awestruck by what they saw as they crossed the first room, before the wide opening into the ritual chamber. Deanne could feel Onmund trying to contain himself. Given his opinion on Conjuration, she could guess why. Deanne reached out and found his hand again. "Are you okay?"

He started at the contact, but grasped her hand tightly in return. "…Not really. It's…I feel like something's going to jump out and attack us any moment."

"The division between Mundus and Oblivion is weaker here," Brelyna mused, drifting out from her close proximity to Deanne, in wonder of the discovery more than either of the other two. "…On our way back, maybe we could stop and…investigate some."

Onmund was on that immediately. "No way. Once we find…whoever we're here to find, we're going straight back up to the College. This place is all wrong. Everything that goes on down here is wrong. How many bodies have we seen already? How many were in that pit?" He tightened his grip on Deanne and drew both women in the direction of the door out. "Let's just get where we're going already. Before something bad happens to us, too."

As if on cue, there was movement along the wall ahead of them, a shifting of debris that froze the three on the spot, casting Brelyna's wonder to the winds.

"…Did you—"

"Shh!" Onmund hissed.

Deanne felt Destruction magic come to both of their hands—fire to Brelyna and ice to Onmund—and felt helpless between them. Her dreams had only ever given her the path and the landmarks, not anything that might be wandering about down here. Onmund's wariness was perfectly reasonable. There could be any number of creatures roaming these passages, summoned or twisted by forbidden magics and left to their own devices in the dark.

There was nothing to follow the first noise, but that only heightened the tension. The three of them crept forward, drawing nearer to the source of the sound, ready to attack whatever it was that could be lying in wait. Nearer. Nearer. Deanne positioned behind them, but kept a hand on their robes, afraid to hinder or be left vulnerable. Their feet hardly made a sound. Not a breath was taken in preparation for—

Onmund let out a yell and threw his spell forward, Brelyna immediately behind him, her cast more reaction than deliberate. Both spells smashed against wood, breaking it to bits and driving what had been hidden behind out into the open, startling everyone!

"Aaaaaaaahhh!"

"Aaauuuuhhhh!"

"Aaaaaaaahhh!"

"Aaaaaaaahhh!"

They were all left gasping, their frantic breaths filling the empty air. At least until Brelyna's tension turned to anger and she shrieked at the culprit. "J'Zargo, you jerk!"

The Khajiit, clambered free of his broken hiding place, immediately defensive. "How is J'Zargo the jerk when it was you that attacked him? How is this so?"

Brelyna stomped over and smacked him, J'Zargo hissing and shying away. "You are the jerk here. You scared us all half to death!" Brelyna berated him.

He dodged another swat and went about straightening his robes. "J'Zargo did not think anyone would be down here." He quieted, pensive, then inquired, "What are you doing down here?"

Brelyna's anger faltered and she sputtered, "Well…we're—What are you doing down here?"

"J'Zargo has asked first."

Brelyna flailed under the snide half accusation. Onmund took the opportunity to cut in. "We're just passing through." He tugged Deanne closer and made a show of moving toward the doorway.

J'Zargo was not so easily sated. "Are you perhaps seeking that which the dead apprentices were toying with? J'Zargo was here first!"

"What are you talking about? We're not here for anything about them, or what they were doing." He hesitated and looked to Deanne. "We're not, right? That's not what this is, right?"

"No," she told him. "It's not. We're not."

J'Zargo was only half reassured. "Oh…Well if you find it, just remember that J'Zargo was here first. And he will know if you take anything!"

Brelyna scowled at him. "Whatever. You wanna get killed like them, go right ahead. No one would miss you." She stomped back to Deanne, and pulled her and Onmund straight to the door and out of the chamber as quickly as possible.

Her persisting frustration fueled their progress through several halls and turns. When Brelyna finally slowed up and loosened her death grip on Deanne's hand, the finer points of their interaction caught up with her. "He's looking for where the others died? Stupid cat. What does he think he's going to find? The magisters must have been down here and cleared everything out already."

Deanne squeezed her hand. "Don't worry about it. Whatever he does, I don't think we could stop him."

Brelyna sighed, then asked curiously, "Do you know where it happened? I mean, I would assume they'd do it in that room. It's close to the forge, and the barrier to Oblivion is weak—"

"No, it wasn't there," Deanne told her. "I don't know exactly where… It's further down, but we won't reach it. Let's just keep going. The sentinel should be in the next chamber."

As they continued down the passageway together, the sound of rushing water began to fill the space and the already dismal temperature dropped further, and moisture gathered in the air. In the last hundred feet, portions of the right wall vanished, more sound of the waterfall echoing across their path from rough openings until they turned out into the main chamber.

As the three stepped into the open space, Onmund asked, "So what sort of sentinel is it? A statue or a—Get back! Get back!"

Something above them grunted and barked as the group rapidly backtracked into the passage. Not fast enough. Just before they cleared the entrance, Deanne heard a whistle and a sickening meaty thunk as Onmund gave a yell and threw himself the last few feet.

"Sweet Azura, Onmund!" Brelyna yelled, rushing to his side.

He cried out almost immediately. "Shor's bones!" The apprentice grunted in pain and groaned, "Oblivion take it! What's a draugr doing down here? Ah! Don't touch it. Damn it!"

Deanne hurried to him, kneeling down on his other side and ghosting her hands out to discover what had happened. She bumped into narrow wooden rod and Onmund cried out again. He'd been shot!

Brelyna made a move and Onmund's next cry was loud and drawn out. "Divines, stop. Stop!"

Brelyna rebuked him. "We can't just leave it there. We have to get it out. Hold still."

Deanne responded. "Wait. Let me check where it is. It might be near something vital."

The rush of adrenaline fueled her casting, alongside Onmund's pained expressions and heavy breathing. Her magic ran the breadth of his body, finding areas broken and damaged. "It missed your heart and lungs," she reported. "Just a flesh wound. I can heal it if you stay still. Can you do that?"

Onmund went taut, flattening himself in place with purpose. "Anything for you," he tried to joke. But she could hear his teeth grinding as he struggled through the pain to do as she asked.

Deanne planted her palms around the wound, framing the arrow with her hands. "Brelyna, you have to pull it out."

"Yeah," Brelyna responded, reaching out to take a grasp on the arrow. "One fell swoop. Okay? Are you ready?"

Onmund grimaced through clenched jaw, "Just do it!"

"Okay. One…" Deanne was already weaving restoration into the edges of the wound. "…two…"

Yank!

Deanne felt the arrow tear out of his body and Onmund yelled again. She assaulted the void immediately with her magic, knitting muscle and sinew as fully as possible, as quickly as possible. Onmund's breathing helped her to track her progress, even as she felt all become whole again beneath her hands, his breaths came with less labor. It wasn't long before she closed up the skin and the man was breathing normally again. Divines, she hardly felt depleted at all. And there wasn't a mark left to indicate he'd taken a blow. She certainly had come a long way since traveling with Vilkas.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine. Good. Aches a little. I'll be alright." He shifted and said with admiration, "You're really good at that."

Deanne blushed and dropped her head, the two women reaching out to help him to sit up.

Brelyna turned to the more immediate issue. "A draugr? Down here? I thought they just guarded old Nord tombs."

"Might have been brought down here for an experiment," Onmund hypothesized. "Or as a guard for someone's work. I wonder if he killed whoever was working on him or not."

Deanne was confused. "What's a draugr?"

Onmund answered, "They're preserved Nordic dead that guard the tombs they've been buried in. Warriors of old who defend the resting places of their masters, even in death."

"They're zombies," Brelyna stated.

Onmund took offense. "They're not zombies! They're—"

"They're dead bodies that have been reanimated to a purpose by some kind of magic. They're zombies. No offense to your heritage, but I'm Dunmer. Trust me, we know about these things. One day I'll tell you about ash spawn." Brelyna stood up and slipped over to the chamber entrance, jerking back almost immediately. "He's got his bow trained on the door. Deanne, why didn't you warn us?"

Deanne replied urgently, "I didn't think he'd be awake. He never did anything before. Maybe…maybe it's the fact that we're down here physically." She turned to Onmund, professing, "If I knew this would happen, I would have told you. I swear!"

He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Of course you would have. I know that." He laughed a little. "You know, of all the things I thought might happen to me at the College of Winterhold, being shot by a draugr was not one of them."

Brelyna stayed true to the problem at hand. "So what do we do? Do we go back? I don't think he's coming down from that level, but I don't think I can hit him up there. He's got the high ground."

Deanne thought furiously. "Do either of you know the Stoneflesh spell?"

"Yes," Brelyna answered.

Onmund was less enthused. "I'm still working on Oakflesh."

Deanne stood up, tugging Onmund upright with her. "I think I can cover you. Like when I helped you cast for your familiar. Hey!" Inspiration struck. "That would help. Your familiar is the only one who can reach the sentinel."

"Draugr," Brelyna corrected offhand, but dropped that to pursue Deanne's thought process. "So, Onmund casts his familiar, which distracts the draugr. Then we all cast Stoneflesh and run like mad."

"Yes," Deanne, more excited than she had any right to be. Really, she didn't do dangerous things. She lived a life of caution. So why was she suddenly so excited about the prospect of throwing herself through danger?

But apparently she wasn't the only one. Brelyna gradually caught her spirit. "…Okay….Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah, let's do it!"

Onmund stayed reserved, reminding them, "I can't cast the spell."

Deanne squeezed his hand, still clasped in hers. "I'll help you. Just…let me mold your magic. I promise I'll protect you."

He hesitated. Then chuckled a little, squeezing back. "Aren't I supposed to be the one saying that?"

She now reminded him, "You did just get shot while we got to cover."

At this point, Brelyna was bouncing—bouncing—in place. Whether this was actual excitement at the concept of courting danger, like Deanne was feeling, or an effort to invigorate herself for the attempt, who could say. "Okay. Okay, let's do this."

Deanne reached out toward her. "Let's do it together. It will make it stronger."

Brelyna lunged forward and grabbed Deanne's hand. "Ready."

The three of the edged to the entrance, just out of view of the sentinel—draugr. "Onmund, your familiar." He'd begun successfully calling his familiar without help last week and did so again now, and beautifully. The owl perched on his arm, awaiting instruction. "Brelyna, the Stoneflesh." The two women cast their spells congruently, letting the spell wrap itself around their skin, changing the thin layer of flesh to the density of rock. "Onmund, cast…anything. Bring out your magicka. I'll pass the Stoneflesh to you." He did so, holding on tightly to her hand at the same time. His magicka didn't even have a chance to take form before she had a hold of it. He was so trusting. It was the only reason Deanne could do as she was doing now: melding their magics into a single spell, fed by three magicka wells into a single force that covered all of them in a protective layer of flesh made stone. "Okay, everyone ready?"

"Yeah."

"Let her fly, Onmund!" Brelyna cried.

He threw his free arm forward and Deanne heard his familiar go swooping into the room. An instant later there was a commotion on the level above them and Brelyna shouted, "Go!"

Hand in hand, they dashed out of the hall and across the chamber. Deanne tried her best to hold her memory of this place in her mind, but ended up depending on her companions for direction. There was dry barking and unintelligible speech from somewhere above them, mingled with the sounds of an irate avian. It didn't last as long as they'd hoped. Onmund's familiar gave a shriek as it was defeated. They kept running. Almost there. Another few yards. Something whistled toward them. Onmund jerked on the end of her arm just before they all dashed into the next enclave, smacking against a wall that marked the end of their mad dash. The lot of them yanked around a corner—through someone's design—breaking apart and collapsing against the walls behind cover.

The three young mages gasped together, safe from the danger, panting from exertion and the rush of adrenaline. Someone giggled. Deanne wasn't sure if it was her. Another giggle followed. Then a laugh—alright, that one was definitely her. Another three seconds and the entire passage was filled with laughter, bouncing off the walls, doubtless an insult to the sentinel behind them, regardless of the fact that it was of three people just happy to be alive!

"Sweet…Azura," Brelyna gasped, desperate for breath "That…is the single most…dangerous thing…I've ever done."

Onmund answered between his own deep-bellied laughs. "—Don't know…if I should be honored—or offended—that he kept aiming for me!"

"Point of pride?" Deanne offered.

And they descended into uncontrollable mirth that landed all three of them on the floor with their sides aching.

Thank the Divines the sentinel was confined to his perch and that there was nothing in the chamber ahead to endanger them, because they would have been in terrible trouble otherwise. As it was, the three had a chance to regain their breath and sanity following that courtship with danger, resting where they lay as time allowed.

"Think there's anything ahead to be worried about?" Onmund's hood whispered against the stone as he twisted it toward her. "Deanne?"

She leaned back against the wall and tried to get her thoughts back to rights for the sake of her friends. "…The bridge is guarded now." Her humor evaporated at the realization. "It wasn't before. But it is now. …I don't know by what." Her friends had sobered, too. Deanne rolled her head toward them, suddenly aware of what she'd gotten them in to. "You don't need to come. I…I didn't mean for you to get hurt. And I don't know what's guarding the bridge—"

"Hey." Brelyna crawled over and planted herself up against Deanne's side. "I came because I wanted to. You didn't make me do anything. And I'm still here. Whatever's guarding that bridge, we'll face it together."

Onmund shifted his position, and she found her other side—and hand—occupied. "We'll stay together. No matter what."

Deanne sniffed and found Brelyna's hand, grasping the two tightly and agreeing. "Together."

They stood—together—and set out down the corridor—together. There was just one more obstacle—which they would face together—before reaching the door. Then she would know what was so important about her making her way down to this place that called to her.

Eeeeeeee! The gooey, cheesy, corny goodness. I'll say it, I squeed when I wrote that last bit. Yes. Squeed. And I feel no shame! X)