Chapter 26: Elder Knowledge
"Miss Lumen, I don't mean to seem disrespectful, but why do I have to come with you?" Luka asks, tugging his cloak around his shoulders as Lumen stares down at him from her high vantage point on Shadowmere's back. "I told you I wouldn't be allowed back at the college."
"I know what you said," Lumen says, barely able to talk through the chattering of teeth. "But we might need your help."
"That's right." Cicero pulls himself up on Shadowmere, settling himself behind Lumen and snuggling closer to her than strictly necessary. "You don't have to go to the college, you can just relax at the inn."
Lumen nods. "I thought it would be a good idea to bring you along because you know quite a lot about, uh, magey things."
"Magey things," Luka murmurs, casting a wary glance at his borrowed horse. "Very well, um- does this thing bite?"
"That thing's name is Felix, and no, he's never bitten anyone," Lumen says, watching Luka with some amusement as he struggles to mount the horse. "Don't tell me you don't know how to ride a horse."
Luka grunts as he rights himself in the saddle and grips the horses reins tightly. "I know the basics, but it's not my preferred method of travel. I trust my own two feet more than I trust some farm animal."
At that comment, Shadowmere snorts and paws at the ground. "Careful," Cicero says. "Felix might not bite, but we cannot promise the same of Shadowmere. He is one of us, you know."
"Right." Luka awkwardly pats Felix on the neck. "My apologies, then."
"Let's hope he doesn't fall off," Lumen murmurs, thoroughly amused with Luka's fumbling.
The two horses trundle down the snow covered road. The snow grows thicker and more abundant as they draw closer to their destination. Lumen shivers miserably, while Cicero convinces Luka to play a game of 'I Spy' with him. Luka seems happy to oblige, and Lumen is content to the ignore them both. Instead, she mulls over the events of the previous night. She had told Cicero about what happened with Arnbjorn. How he became so intense and weird, and she was fairly certain he was going to kiss her but didn't. Cicero expressed disappointment, and said "Then you kiss him next time, and if anything naughty happens be sure to call for Cicero so he can watch." Lumen still doesn't know what to make of any of that, but she doubts Arnbjorn would appreciate Cicero's voyeurism. She, however, is quite used to it.
Truth be told, she's not certain what she wants in regards to Arnbjorn. It's strange enough to be involved with someone like Cicero, who is completely fine with her sleeping with other people as long as she tells him about it, and presumably affords him the same freedom. He's never specifically asked if it would bother her if he did, but she can only assume he might want to do the same. She wouldn't mind it, and it might be fun to simply observe. Would he choose a man or a woman? Would he treat them as gently as he treats her, or would he be rough? The idea of watching Cicero utterly dominate someone is a rather enjoyable thought, and with a few hours between them and their destination, she figures there's no harm in getting lost in the fantasy.
"Are you not feeling well, Miss Lumen?" Luka's voice chases away her torrid fantasies, bringing her back to the bitter chill of the northern winds.
"Er- what?" she stammers, caught off guard. "I feel fine, why do you ask?"
Luka shrugs. "You look a bit flushed. It is rather cold and it wouldn't do to have you come down with a fever. I have some potions if you need them."
"I'm fine," she asserts, glancing back at Cicero who is watching her with a knowing grin. She affords him a little, playful wink before turning her gaze forward.
Cicero digs his heel into Shadowmere's side, prompting the horse to walk ahead of Luka, giving the two assassins a modicum of privacy. "Something on your mind?" he asks. "Something to do with what you told me last night, perhaps?"
"Yes and no," she admits.
"Well now Cicero is even more curious. What could have you blushing like a virgin?" Cicero laughs when Lumen growls low in her throat. "Are you entertaining thoughts of improving your relations with our dear brother?"
"No," she says firmly. "And I don't think kissing him would improve relations. If anything, it would make things even more weird than they already are. I deal with enough weirdness on a daily basis. I don't need to add to it." She pauses for a moment to give into a shiver, and Cicero presses even closer to her. His warmth barely permeates through her thick, leather armor, but she appreciates the gesture. "For all I know, he was thinking about snapping my neck rather than anything else. I probably misinterpreted things."
"Bah, I highly doubt that. Cicero told you ages ago that Arnbjorn has, hmm- an appreciation for sweet Lumen's shapely posterior," he says, a maniacal giggle threading through his words.
"Yeah?" she snaps. "A lot of really horrible shit has happened between then and now. I'm not even going to talk about what happened in Dawnstar, but he lost his Sanctuary and his wife-"
"Surely he is done mourning her by now," he sniffs. "Cicero certainly is."
"Cicero," Lumen growls.
"Besides, you said he rutted some bard all night when you two were in Ivarstead! Surely that is a good sign."
"It's called a rebound," Lumen sighs. "That doesn't mean he's over Astrid."
"I suppose not," Cicero giggles. "It just means he is horny. Which might work out rather well for you if you decide to take the initiative. All that pent up angst and lust, just waiting to be unleashed. It is rather titillating, don't you think? Like something you would read in a seedy pillow book! Cicero can just imagine it now; shirts ripping, buttons flying, bosoms heaving-"
"Please stop." Lumen closes her eyes, silently praying to the Night Mother for strength. Otherwise she might Shout Cicero right off Shadowmere's back. "I've got my hands full dealing with one horny idiot. I don't need two of them in my life."
"Do not knock it until you have tried it, sweetness," Cicero purrs in her ear. "So, if you weren't blushing to thoughts of Arnbjorn, what were you thinking about?"
"I'm not telling you," she says briskly. "I don't think you deserve to know."
"What? But Cicero wants to know!" Cicero whines. "Cicero has a right to know if it was about him- it is about Cicero, yes? Who else might you be fantasizing about?" He falls quiet for a few blissful seconds before gasping, "Is it Nazir?"
Lumen heaves a long suffering sigh. "No, it's not Nazir," she says flatly.
"Is it Luka?"
"Did you say my name, Cicero? Do you need me?" Luka shouts. "I'd try to get closer but I don't know how to make the horse go faster."
"Oh, no, it is all right," Cicero calls over his shoulder. "Cicero was just asking Lumen if she was having dirty thoughts about you."
"What? That's- Oh-" Luka stammers, then falls silent.
"Cicero." Lumen drags her hand down her face, utterly exasperated. "I can tell you with certainty that I am not having dirty thoughts about anyone. I am, however, entertaining the thought of having you walk to Winterhold with no shoes if you don't behave yourself."
"You would not really do something so cruel to poor Cicero, would you?"
"I will if you keep teasing me," she warns, and Cicero lets the subject drop after that. Instead of focusing on teasing Lumen, he hums a soft tune for the remainder of their uncomfortably cold journey. His near-silence gives Lumen plenty of time to worry about the Thalmor stationed at the college. She hopes he doesn't interfere with her business there, or get near her at all. Her temper is volatile enough, and the last thing she needs is to be harassed by some Thalmor. Cicero certainly has his ways of calming her down, but she isn't so sure he would be successful at this point.
Winterhold is not what Lumen expected. She's not surprised to discover it's a small, miserably cold town, covered in snow and full of cranky Nords. But she did not expect it to be situated on the edge of a crumbling cliff, nor did she expect half of the buildings there to be little more than wooden bones jutting from the snow.
"Well, this place is a shit-hole," Lumen says, ignoring the offended grunt from the Nord stable hand Cicero is dealing with.
"Most of the city fell into the sea nearly eighty years ago," Luka explains, falling into step beside Lumen as the trio of assassins leave the stables behind and make their way to the local inn. "The residents didn't bother to rebuild. I think most of them spend their time drinking at the inn."
"I don't blame them," Lumen says as they stop in front of the inn. She hands Luka a small coin purse. "Use this to rent a room. Stay hidden just in case anyone from the college comes by and recognizes you. I don't need you being chased out of town by an angry mob."
"Oh, I don't think they would react that badly," Luka says. "But I will do as you say, Miss Lumen. Good luck at the college."
"I like him," Lumen comments as she and Cicero make their way to the bridge. "He's so polite."
"You only like him because he does what you tell him to do," Cicero says, grinning.
"Unlike you," Lumen says, returning the grin, though it fades when she notices the smile slipping from Cicero's face. "What? What is it?" She follows his line of sight to the large, crumbling bridge that connects the city of Winterhold to the college. Standing in the covered archway at the entrance of the bridge is a female Altmer mage. "Wonderful," Lumen murmurs quietly. "Just wonderful. This is all I need."
"You there!" the mage calls out. "State your business!"
Lumen shares a worried glance with Cicero. They had briefly discussed simply telling the truth about their business at the college, and they had also considered lying, but they never made a decision. If Cicero tried to pretend to be a prospective student, the Altmer blocking their way would likely see right through the ruse, but news of the Dragonborn visiting the college might cause a bit of a stir when word got around. Not that Lumen minds if the students are curious, but she does mind if her presence at the college piques the curiosity of the Thalmor. With a resigned sigh, Lumen steps forward and says, "I seek entry to the college. Not as a student but I need information. I won't be long."
"Only those with magical talents are allowed on college grounds," the Altmer says. "If you are not a mage then I cannot let you in."
Lumen's fingers are itching to draw her blade and dispatch with the annoying mage. It would certainly be easier than trying to convince her to let them in. "Would you consider letting the Dragonborn inside?" she asks, knowing she sounds more aggressive than she ought to, but it's taking every ounce of self control she has to keep herself calm.
The mage laughs, and takes a step closer. "Are you claiming to be the Dragonborn of legend, then?" she asks.
"Why would I ask that if I wasn't?" Lumen snaps.
"You could have been referring to your friend for all I know," the mage says coolly. "Dragonborn or not, rules are rules. Show me a spell and I will let you pass."
"What kind of a spell?" she asks, knowing she will not be able to perform it.
The mage hums thoughtfully, pursing her lips as she looks over the two assassins. "Something simple, I think. Summon a Flame Atronach."
Lumen gapes at her. "I can't do that!" She turns to Cicero. "Can you?"
"No," he sighs, shaking his head. "Poor Cicero cannot do anything like that. He only knows a simple fire spell, but it's only good for lighting candles and such."
"Anyone can do that," the mage snaps. "Show me a real fire spell, or go away and stop wasting my time. This is a mages college for mages, not amateurs."
"How are people supposed to learn if you do not let them in?" Cicero exclaims, the mage's attitude finally grating on his nerves as well.
"That does it," Lumen growls. "You want to see some fire? I'll show you some fucking fire!" She sucks in a deep breath, the cold, wet air stinging her throat and her lungs. But the chilly sting is soothed by a gout of flame as Lumen Shouts "Yol Toor Shul!" to the skies. Even though she's not aiming the fire at the Altmer, she can hear the distinct sound of a ward being cast, and Cicero making a startled sound. Lumen watches the fire dissipate in the air before turning her gaze back to the stunned Altmer. "Is that fire real enough for you, or do you require another demonstration?" she asks, her voice rough from the Shout and from the effort of being merciful to the stuck-up mage.
The Altmer's ward vanishes, and her stunned expression shifts into one of disinterest. "I suppose you are who you claim to be, Dragonborn. However, you are no mage, and I cannot let you into the college."
"Are you kidding me?" Lumen growls. If it weren't for the small crowd that gathered after she breathed fire, she'd cheerfully strangle the wretched Altmer and then toss her over the edge of the cliff. Unfortunately, when she's announced herself as the Dragonborn, she has to behave.
"No, I am not," the mage snaps. "I'm sorry, but we have to be very restrictive about who is allowed access to the college. It's for your own safety and ours." She walks back to her post in the archway of the bridge, shielded from the wind and snow by the thick, stone columns. "If you truly require access to the college, then I suggest you appeal to the Arch-Mage. Write a letter stating your case. If you do that, I will take it to him. He may allow you to enter the college if he thinks you have reason to."
"But that could take weeks!" Lumen whines.
"Better get to it, then," the mage says dismissively.
Lumen huffs and turns on her heel, grabbing Cicero by the wrist. "Come on, let's go back to the inn."
"I can't let you into the college unless you cast a spell," Lumen says in a mocking tone. She flops into a chair in the small room Luka rented for the night. "Cast a spell- I'll cast my foot right up her ass!"
"Cicero is sorry he could not cast anything impressive, sweet Lumen," he says, hoping to placate her. "He did not think he would have to summon anything."
"It's not your fault," Lumen sighs. "I didn't think it'd be so impossible just to get into the college to ask a simple question."
Luka paces around the room, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. "Faralda is only doing what she's been told to do," he explains. "The relationship between the college and the residents of Winterhold has been strained for a long time. The people here blame the college for the destruction of the town."
"She seemed more interested in judging my lack of magical prowess," Lumen grumbles. "It's obvious I wasn't there to cause problems. She was being rude."
"I never said she was nice," Luka says meekly. "There is another way, though…" Lumen and Cicero both stop their sulking and turn their full attention to Luka, who fidgets under the scrutiny of their gaze. "Um, well, she doesn't guard the bridge at night. It's too cold. The college does have a gate to keep outsiders, well- out. But I believe I can get us past the gate."
"How so?" Cicero asks.
Luka chuckles mischievously. "Because when they threw me out they forgot to take away my key."
"Luka," Lumen sighs and rubs her temples. "Why didn't you tell us this in the first place?"
"I-" Luka fumbles for the right words and runs his hands through his messy, blond hair. "Um, I don't know. I didn't think about it until now!" He drops his hands to his sides, his hair sticking out at odd angles and the sleeves of his over-sized robe falling past his hands. "I'm sorry, Miss Lumen."
"It's fine," she says. "All right, so- we wait until nightfall to cross the bridge. Luka gets us into the college and then what? I'm sure you know where the library is, but it's probably huge. It could take us forever to find anything on the Elder Scrolls."
"We'll figure it out, Miss Lumen, and you will have Cicero and me to help you look." Luka smiles, trying his best to be reassuring. "Don't worry."
Lumen glances at Cicero, who merely shrugs. "He is right," Cicero says. "You'll have us."
"That's reassuring," Lumen says, not feeling reassured in the slightest, but she has no choice but to trust the two.
The three assassins spend the rest of the day planning their break in. Day turns to dusk, and most of Winterhold's residents retire to their homes. As night falls over Winterhold, so does the overall temperature. There are no mountains or buildings to block the bitingly cold winds as the three make their way across the causeway. The snow on the stone pathways glitters in the moonlight, but they are all careful to remember that in Skyrim, all that glitters is usually ice.
Luka leads the group, pointing out slick spots and casting his own frost spells to create rough areas.
"Why not just melt the ice?" Lumen asks. "How is more ice going to help us?"
"Because if I melt it it will freeze again and be just as slick," Luka explains. "The rough areas create traction, so it's easier to walk on."
They come to an area where the parapets have crumbled away on each side, along with some of the pathway, leaving only a small, thin area to walk on. Luka steps across without a second thought, as if he's done so many times in the past, and he has. Cicero is next, blithely skipping across the broken area, completely unfazed by the fact that it could crumble beneath him, or a strong gust of wind could send him careening into the Sea of Ghosts.
"Don't look down," Lumen murmurs to herself as she steps closer to the broken pathway. "Don't look down. Don't look- oh, gods." She does look down, but only to assure that her feet are where they need to be. But rather than looking at the stones, she looks down into the foggy, snowy death that surely awaits her. "I can't do this."
"It's perfectly safe, Miss Lumen!" Luka says. "Just put on foot in front of the other! This area isn't even frozen over."
"A college full of mages but not even a single one of them can be bothered to repair a bridge!" Lumen gasps, stepping away from the ledge and placing her hand on a parapet. "Is everyone in this town too damn lazy to rebuild it?"
Cicero snorts. "The same could be said for most cities in Skyrim." He steps across and comes to stand by Lumen's side. "Come on, Cicero will lead you across," he says, smiling cheerfully. "I did not know you were afraid of heights."
"I'm not afraid of heights, I'm afraid of falling to my death." Lumen grips his arm tightly. "And I don't want you to fall, either!"
"Same thing," Cicero says, patting her hand. "Your concern is sweet and it warms poor Cicero's heart, but he is more sure-footed than you give him credit for." His fingers tighten around hers. "Come on, sweet Lumen, Cicero shall help you cross. Just look forward."
"But what if I step over the edge?" Lumen whines.
"That pathway is wider than you think it is," he says, his voice surprisingly calm and reassuring given the circumstances. "You will not fall. Just walk straight. Cicero will lead you across."
"All right," Lumen says weakly. She's gripping Cicero's hand so hard she knows it has to hurt, but he makes no complaint as he slowly leads her across the broken area of the bridge. He gives her gentle encouragements the entire time, reminding her to look forward, and not to look down, and that everything is fine, and before Lumen realizes it, they've finally made it across.
"Wasn't that easy, sweetness?" he asks, falling into step behind Luka as he leads them to the gate. "You did very well."
Lumen sighs. "I'm not looking forward to doing it a second time," she admits. But she'll worry about that later. Right now, she's more interested in following Luka through the gate and to the wide double doors of the college. "Are those locked too?"
"No need," he whispers. "Most people aren't stupid enough to break into a college full of mages." He pauses, belatedly realizing that he's doing exactly just that. "Oh, oops. Well- we're not the average burglars-"
"Just open the damn door!" Lumen hisses, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "If I freeze to death I swear to Sithis that I will come back to haunt you!"
"Okay, okay! Keep your voice down!" Luka gingerly pushes the door open and peeks inside. "Come on," he whispers, motioning for Cicero and Lumen to follow him inside. "I think most of the students are in the dormitories this late at night, but be careful and stay in the shadows anyway."
The college is dark and quiet, but surprisingly warm. Lumen wonders if the temperature is controlled by magic, and if something similar could be implemented at Dawnstar Sanctuary. The college's library, or The Arcanaeum, as Luka calls it, is a large, circular room, and well-lit despite the late hour. The walls are lined with bookshelves, and the room smells of old paper, ink, and most of all, camphora. Lumen wrinkles her nose at the sickly-sweet odor of the pesticide, surprised that even is a climate as cold as Winterhold, one would have to ward off pests from eating the books.
"I don't even know where to start looking," she says, not bothering to whisper. "Is there a catalogue somewhere?"
"Who's there?" a gruff voice calls out, and both Luka and Cicero dart behind the walls that surround the low, center platform, leaving Lumen alone to deal with a cranky old Orsimer. "Are you a new student?" he asks, then continues to talk without giving Lumen a chance to respond. "Must be. Most students are smart enough to study during the day and leave old Urag to his sleep."
"I- I'm sorry I'm-" Lumen stammers, she hadn't thought to encounter anyone in the library. Nor did she think Luka and Cicero would abandon her!
"Out with it!" he snarls. "I'll tell you this much; if you manhandle any of my books, I'll manhandle you, missy!"
"I'm not here to manhandle anything!" Lumen says, deciding honesty might be the best policy with Urag. "I'm looking for an Elder Scroll, and-"
The Orc barks out a rough laugh. "What do you plan to do with and Elder Scroll?" he asks. "And do you really think that even if I did have one here, I would let you see it?"
"Well can you at least tell me about them?" she asks, feeling terribly intimidated by the angry old Orc, who is probably a skilled mage if he's here at the college. Lumen really hopes she doesn't end up with a fireball up her backside.
"I knew it. Everyone comes in here, expecting my help, but they don't ask the proper questions," he sighs, walking away from her and taking a seat at one of the tables in the center of the room. He motions for Lumen to do the same. "An Elder Scroll is an instrument of immense knowledge and power. To read an Elder Scroll, a person must have the most rigorously trained mind, or else risk madness."
"Madness?" she asks warily. "Why?"
Urag frowns at her question. "Madness and blindness. The Divines usually take the reader's sight as a price."
"But why?" she asks again, feeling frustrated. How she's supposed to fight Alduin after going blind and stark-raving mad is a mystery to her. "And a price? A price for what?"
"A price for knowledge, to put it simply," he explains. "But there's nothing simple about an Elder Scroll. It's a reflection of all possible futures and all possible pasts. Each reader will see something different from the very same scroll, but at the same time, all of it is true."
"This doesn't make any sense," she murmurs to herself.
Urag laughs. "Yeah, well when you talk about the scrolls you usually end up in irritating, vague metaphors. I suppose that's why those who study them devoutly go mad."
"Do you have any information on them?" she asks hopefully. "A book, maybe?"
"I have a question of my own," he says, staring intently at her. "Why are you looking for an Elder Scroll? After speaking with you, I don't believe you're a student of the college, or that you're even supposed to be here. But I can't believe you are some thief just looking to claim one as a prize. If you are a thief, you're a terrible one. Which begs the question; how did you get in?"
"I walked in through the front door," she answers lamely, cursing her bad luck. "But you're right, I am not a thief."
"If you're looking for a scroll, you must a good reason for doing so," Urag says. "Tell me why you're looking for one. Tell me, and maybe I won't toss you into sea for breaking into the college and disturbing my books, and my rest."
Lumen lowers her head, a little embarrassed that she was so easily figured out. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Try me."
With a sigh, Lumen gives in and tells him everything. Well- almost everything. She tells him that she is the Dragonborn, and when she was denied entry to the college, she broke in. But for good reason! The fate of the world is at risk! And she needs to find an Elder Scroll to read it at a rip in time that exists at the top of the Throat of The World, so that she can learn a Shout to help her defeat Alduin. She ends her confession by bracing herself for a blast of lightning that is surely to come her way, because even though she's been to the mountain, and talked to a dragon, it all still sounds like bullshit to her, and surely the old Orc will feel the same.
He is quiet for some time, staring into nothing as he mulls over what she just said. Finally, he stands with a grunt. "I'll bring you everything we have on them," he says. "But it's not much, so don't get your hopes up. It's mostly lies, leavened with rumor and conjecture." He vanishes behind one of the walls that surrounds the center of the library, and Luka darts out from behind it, running across the library and whispering "I'm sorry, Miss Lumen!" before diving behind the other wall where Cicero is hiding.
Lumen scowls, swearing that she will give the both of them a sound beating when all of this is over.
"Here you go," Urag says, distracting Lumen from her violent fantasies of throttling both Luka and Cicero within an inch of their lives. He places two books on the table beside her. "Don't get anything on them, and you best leave once you've got the information you need. I won't protect you if Savos decides to dump you in the Midden for being dumb enough to break into the college." The old orc folds his arms. "And tell your three friends to stop hiding from me. I can cast detect spells, you know. They're just embarrassing themselves at this point."
She watches him shuffle off, presumably to go back to his quarters, content to ignore her for the rest of the night. "Three friends?" she murmurs, turning to see Cicero and Luka sheepishly leaving their hiding place.
"Cicero is sorry, sweet Lumen!" he croons, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, no doubt hoping for mercy. "I heard the Orc and hid because I was startled! I thought you would hide too!"
"And you know I'm not even supposed to be here- but I suppose you aren't either. Even so, Urag wouldn't have been so helpful if he saw me," Luka says, and he does have the good sense to look pathetically apologetic.
Lumen ignores them both, her eyes scanning the room as her pointed ears twitch, straining to pick up any sound. "Urag said three friends…" she whispers to them. "Where is the third?"
"Someone is spying on us?" Luka's soft, boyish face pinches into a fearsome scowl, and in that moment, Lumen finally understands why Cicero seems to like him so much. His oddly sweet, submissive nature gives way to something dark and vicious. He whispers an incantation and a fire spell ignites in both palms, the flames lapping at the cuffs of his robes as he prepares to face the intruder.
"Who's there?" Cicero demands, his hands reaching for his daggers as Lumen stands and does the same. If it's a student they can easily scare them off, but it won't be so easy to spook one of the more seasoned mages that teach at the college. However, she can't imagine one of them would be sneaking around and eavesdropping.
A tall, robed Altmer steps out of the shadows from the adjacent room. He wears a sneer typical of one born and bred to believe he is superior to all others. "That was a very interesting tale you spun for the old Orsimer," the Thalmor drawls. "Claiming to be Dragonborn, of all things. That's just as bad as openly worshipping Talos, in my opinion." His golden eyes sweep across Luka and Cicero, unconcerned that both men are prepared to attack at any moment.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," she says slowly. The husky, hungry rasp in her voice has Cicero's lips curling into a wicked grin. He knows exactly what she intends to do with the Altmer. She had been tempted to hunt down the snarky mage that kept her from entering the college, but this- this is so much better. Thalmor are always fun to kill, and she doubts anyone at the college will care too much when he goes missing.
The Thalmor smirks at her. "There has been a rumor spreading about a Bosmer Dragonborn, and I see that you have taken advantage of it. I can't say I blame you. The Nords are a simple, gullible lot, living their lives worshipping their false god Talos and obsessing over legends." His smile vanishes, and he looks at her with those cold, implacable eyes. "I don't believe a word of it. You are no more blessed by the Divines than I am, and I wonder, little Bosmer, how many Nords did you spread your legs for to earn such a title?"
Lumen doesn't have time to respond, or to even feel insulted, she is momentarily blinded by a flash of green light. When her vision clears, she watches the Thalmor fall backwards, his body as stiff as a board. "What-" she gasps, turning to Luka.
Luka's nostrils flare as he inhales sharply through his nose, the paralysis spell still glimmering in his hand. "I am sorry, Miss Lumen," he says, his voice stiff with anger. "But he was being very rude."
"Cicero must agree," he growls. "The churl is lucky to still have a tongue after speaking to you like that."
"It's not the first time I've been insulted by an Altmer," Lumen says, and she doubts it will be the last. But it is rather sweet of Cicero and Luka to be offended on her behalf. She steps over the fallen Thalmor, her feet on either side of his body as she looks down at him. "You really should've kept your nose out of my business. I am the Dragonborn, whether you believe it or not. But more than that, I'm the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood," she says, grinning at the look of surprise in his eyes. "And you, good sir, are going to die."
"It looks like we'll be visiting the Midden after all," Luka chirps. "The paralysis spell should last for a while, but don't worry, he'll be able to feel everything as long as the spinal cord stays intact."
"Good," Lumen says, her eyes boring into the Thalmor's. "You know, the last time I had a Thalmor at my mercy I disemboweled him, but he had the audacity to die before I was finished playing." She nudges the paralyzed Altmer with her foot. "You may have known him, his name was Rulindil."
Recognition lights in the Thalmor's eyes. "It seems like the name is familiar to him, at least," Cicero laughs. "I wonder if they were close."
"I hope so, because he'll be joining him in the Void soon," Lumen says, a cruel grin etching across her lips. "But not too soon, it's been so long since I've had a proper playmate. I'd like to spend some time with this one. Hopefully he will last longer than Rulindil did."
"I'll make sure he does, Miss Lumen," Luka says. "I'm not much of a healer, necromancers seldom are, but I do know a thing or two about keeping a victim alive and conscious."
"Good to know." Lumen grabs the two books Urag left for her, making a mental note to return them later. He was decent to her. He didn't have to help her, but he did. Otherwise she'd not bother to return the books at all. She'll definitely send them by courier, though. Lumen doesn't plan to visit this wretched, little town again.
"Will we be undisturbed in the Midden?" Cicero asks, grinning down at the Thalmor. "Cicero would hate it if we were interrupted."
"No one ever goes down there," Luka says. "There's even a tunnel that will lead us outside to the sea, so we don't have to sneak through the college to get out."
"Perfect," Lumen says, rather pleased to have collected information on the Elder Scrolls and a Thalmor victim all in the same night. If the Divines have ways of blessing their followers, then maybe Sithis can perform a few miracles of his own. Lumen doesn't know for certain. What she does know is that she'll be thanking him by sending him a new soul before dawn. "Let's get to work, boys."
Luka leads them down to the Midden, and to what he says is an Atronach Forge. The Thalmor is laid out in the center of the forge, encircled by candles, and at his feet there is an altar littered with the scattered remnants of animal bones. It reminds Lumen of a Black Sacrament. The only thing missing is the Nightshade.
"His name is Ancano," Luka explains, his fingers curling around a stream of eerie green light as he alters his paralysis spell, as per Lumen's request, giving the Altmer control of his voice, and nothing else. "He's the Thalmor Advisor to the Arch-Mage. He arrived a few months before I was expelled."
"I'll have you know that they will come looking for me!" Ancano shouts, struggling fruitlessly against the binds of the spell. "My absence will be noticed!"
"Noticed, yes." Cicero grins down at the helpless elf. "But not missed."
"When and if they do find you, they will assume you tried to summon an atronach and died horribly as a result," Luka says, cheerful as ever. "One should always be cautious when summoning creatures from Oblivion."
"I'll kill you all!" he snarls. "You won't get away with this!"
"Oh, he said it!" Cicero exclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Cicero loves it when they say that!"
Lumen lowers herself to her knees, her legs on either side of Ancano. "We will get away with this," she says, roughly patting his cheek. "We'll be miles away before anyone notices you're missing."
Ancano's gaze flits between the three assassins, his chest rapidly rising and falling with each panicked breath. "All right," he says, nervously wetting his lips. "What is it that you want? Money? Information? I have contacts at the Thalmor Embassy. I can get you anything you want. Just name it and it is yours."
"Oh, lovely. We've progressed from threats to bargaining," Lumen says, laughing softly at the look on Ancano's face. "The Thalmor are all the same. A bunch of heartless murderers in their own right, and yet they can never seem to believe that someone would kill them for the simple pleasure of the act. They always think I want something."
"Don't be stupid!" Ancano snaps. "Everyone wants something!"
"True," Lumen says, gently tracing the flat of her blade across his jaw line. "Unfortunately for you, my needs are quite simple, and attempting to bargain with me will do you no favors." The blade of her dagger probes between his lips, tapping against his teeth and prompting him to open his mouth, if only to spare him the pain and humiliation of having his teeth broken. She jabs the inside of his cheek, drawing the slightest of whimpers from the seasoned Thalmor.
"He seems very concerned with what you want, sweet Listener," Cicero comments. "How thoughtful."
Lumen grins down at the Thalmor. "Well since you're so curious, the first thing I want to do is to carve a smile across your pretty face," she says, reveling at the fear in his eyes. "Now hold still."
Notes: Poor Ancano. May he rest in pieces. :3 The Dark Brotherhood has just unknowingly saved the mages of Winterhold from a world of trouble, haven't they? And they didn't even get paid!
I struggled with this chapter because I don't particularly care for this part of the questline. It's a bit dull, to be honest. So I tried to make it fun for me to write. Hopefully it is an enjoyable read as well! I know a lot of you are eager to see how Lumen reacts to Cyril. They will meet in the next chapter! I promise! :)