Conduit
Xander's world was white. Not just because of the flash of light that had basically blinded him, but because he was lying on his back staring at a snowstorm.
Vaguely, he saw a flash of light twirling away into the air.
The Dragon was gone then. Crap. But he hadn't had a choice; there was no way to absorb that much power that quickly while keeping the thing trapped. The only alternative had been to try and carry it within himself, and from how much his body was throbbing from what he had taken, he didn't even want to consider what might have happened if he'd done that—
Focus. Did it work?
He grunted, and looked to the right.
The great statue of Azura's Shrine loomed above him, standing resolute as it always did against the snow. At its base, a handful of bodies were strewn about the place. Dulurza, Margret, L'laarzen, and Hjar; the latter two both groggily sitting up. And with them…
"Let me see the poisoned ones!" Aranea Ienith shouted, frantically running towards them with a poultice in her hands. "It's Dulurza and Margret, is it not? My vision was not clear!"
Hjar groaned, attempting to stagger to her feet. "Yeah, those. Are they…"
"Deathbell and thistle, among other things. A poison that saps the stamina and brings weariness, instantly rendering most unconscious." Aranea answered, kneeling beside Margret and applying some of the poultice to her forehead, then beneath her nose. "I do not think it is fatal. They will be up soon."
He said he wouldn't hurt them. Xander dimly realised, trying to sit up. I suppose he doesn't think this counts…
"How do you know—" Hjar gave up on what probably seemed a pointless question, instead of turning to Xander. "What happened? Where are we?"
"Juli—" Xander coughed, headache intensifying and throat burning. "Agh. I…I don't know. We're in Winterhold. Azura's shrine. It was…it was the first place I could access that seemed safe…"
Aranea continued on to Dulurza, applying the paste to her to. There was a crunch, and L'laarzen fell to a kneel beside Xander, lifting his head into her lap.
"Are you alright, Alexander?" She asked, concerned eyes looking down at him in concern.
"M'fine…handled worse." Xander tried to sit again, this time with her help.
"How are we here?" Pressed the Khajiit, running some basic healing spells up and down his body. "Did we…teleport?"
"I thought that was a myth?" Hjar called, from where she was cradling Margret.
"Not exactly." Xander coughed. "I…used the Dragon gem and reverse-summoned us to Oblivion. Moonshadow. Then I brought us out here." He giggled, weakly. "First proposed the idea in the Synod. I call it 'Fast Travel'."
"A lovely idea, friend." L'laarzen cooed, before looking up. "Miss Ienith? I suspect he is delirious."
"No, he's fine. That's what happened." Aranea crouched in front of him, offering her hand. "Champion, can you stand? I foresaw your survival, but was foggy on your state."
Xander took the hand, and was able to stagger to his feet, entire body protesting the motion. Then he narrowed his eyes. "You saw it."
"Yes." Aranea nodded. "As you know, I am gifted with prophesy. Less, and weaker, after you completed your mission, yet—"
"You knew." He snarled. "And you just waited here? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I —" Aranea looked shaken. "I couldn't, Champion, I—"
"COULDN'T?" Xander demanded.
"Through no fault of her own, Alexander." Echoed a much louder voice, making everybody conscious stiffen. "I only permitted her to see these events today."
Xander took a deep breath. Looked up at the statue. "And why in Oblivion was that?"
"Because if she had had time to message you, she would have interfered. Even had I ordered her not to." Azura replied, calmly. "Do not do her the disservice of questioning her loyalty to you."
Xander turned back to Aranea, her eyes brimming with apologies, mouth seemingly unable to find words.
Then he sighed, brushed her hand away, and stalked up to the altar. Unhooked Azura's Star from his belt and tossed it onto the table, before slapping down his hands.
"Why didn't you warn me?" He demanded.
"I did." Azura answered—
"Horse manure, you call that a warning?" Xander shouted into the storm. "You KNEW! You knew what he would do, and you let me think the problem was with the experiment!"
"There are consequences to knowing the future, boy!" Azura's voice boomed, angrily. "There are reasons reading Elder Scrolls drive mortals mad or blind!"
"Julius. Is. Crazy. Would it have broken the timeline to share THREE WORDS?" Xander asked. "To give me the vision you apparently showed Aranea?"
"And what would you have done with that knowledge?" Azura countered. "Would you have believed it? Would you have challenged Julius early? Many futures spread out ahead of you when you began this mission, conduit, and most led you to failure. I thought perhaps to steer you towards abandoning the project of your own caution. Without you, your brother could never have hoped to trap the Dragon's soul, and you might have had longer to prepare. I sought to protect you." The voice lowered in intensity, taking on a morose lilt. "But for all my difficulties with the mortal mind, you I should have known better. Of course you did not back down from the challenge. And so this became the only future available to you."
"What future?" Xander demanded. "You wanted me here?"
"Channelling Vulbahlok was your final hurdle, conduit. Now, you—"
"And what does that even mean? Why do you—ARGH!" The frustration boiling inside of him reached a peak, and he slammed both of his fists into the stone of the altar, crying out in rage. "ENOUGH! Just…Enough!"
He sagged, panting for air. Behind him, he dimly noticed the voices of Dulurza and Margret, returning to consciousness. I don't have the energy for this. First the Dragon, then Julius, now…
"You keep calling me 'conduit'. All of you do." Xander spared a glance to the sword at his waist, then off into the distance where the College of Winterhold should be. "What does that mean? Why have so many of you taken an interest in me? What…what is going on?"
Silence hung heavy over the mountain. The wind whipped at Xander's robes, and his hands shook, though he didn't know if that was from the cold or fading adrenaline.
Eventually, Azura's voice returned.
"When you came to Winterhold, you were nothing, Alexander. But I saw in you a great potential. A path, winding through the future, that would take you through certain specific milestones. Some you touched, some you missed, and some you encountered that I never predicted. All brought you to what you are here, now."
"And what am I?" He croaked.
"…Your magic has been altered." Azura finally answered. "You no longer wield it as the mages of Elves do."
"Because I'm a Tongue?" Xander guessed.
"That is but one aspect. Alexander…can you cast a spell?"
He blinked. "Um. Yes, of course."
"Then do so."
He frowned, but acquiesced, reaching for the Staff of Magnus and wondering which of his friends would be most willing to—
"No. Under your own power."
Xander scrunched up his nose. "I…I just put everything into the Fast Travel, I don't have anything left in the tank."
"But it has been long enough for you to regenerate some, no?" Azura asked. "Or wait an hour, or drink a potion, if you wish."
Xander's frown deepened. "No, you're right, but I hope you're not expecting anything flashy. I mean, I have—"
"I do not ask much. Just a spell."
And this was growing more suspicious by the second. Xander held his hand out, focusing.
Flames. The most basic destruction spell of all. At full capacity, he could do it for a few seconds before it spluttered out, so now he should be able to bring out a quick burst…
But there was nothing. He tilted his head, thrust his hand out again, running through the maths in his head and trying harder. Not even sparks came out.
He switched up, going instead for a basic healing spell. That one was easy for him, all he had to do was muster enough energy to manipulate the sunlight and…and nothing happened. He tried to just get the glow to manifest, to no result.
But I don't even…It didn't feel like he was magicka exhausted, now that he thought about it. There was some residual throbbing from his stunt with the Eye, but not the telltale soreness that he was used to feeling when he was empty. Not that he recalled actually feeling that in a while...
"Magicka potion," he said abruptly, turning, "does anyone have a—"
Aranea pressed one into his hand, and he uncorked the top of the bottle and downed it. The bitter taste was familiar, as was the feeling as it spread through his body, stimulating his magicka to…but no, there wasn't the usual feeling of his reserves refilling as his body absorbed the nutrients from the potion.
He tried again with the healing, got nothing. Tried the flames, nothing, then a simple magelight spell, then a soul trap, then a partial barkflesh spell.
Yet there was nothing.
"What did you do." He uttered, looking up at the statue in panic. "What did you do to me?"
"I did little." Azura replied.
"Then what—"
"The first step was your low magicka reserves. The way you still pushed them again and again to accept being exhausted as you tried to train. The next important step was me; as I brought your soul into the Star to kill Malyn Varen, then returned you to your own body. My power, just a sliver of it, flooding your system. The step after that was the most crucial: Your encounter with Morokei, and the Staff of Magnus."
A cold feeling began to spread through Xander's chest.
"Under extended exposure to the magicka-draining effects of the Staff, something in you was changed forever." Azura explained. "Before, your body's ability to generate magicka was stunted. But that day, it was crippled beyond repair. And then you took the Staff for yourself, and used it to connect to the Aetherius itself through the Eye of Magnus."
"Yes, and I used that to recharge myself." Xander retorted, hands clutching the altar. "I was fine the moment I drained the Thalmor in the Labyrinthian, I was better than ever!"
"And yet, did you ever attempt to cast a spell without a boost from the Staff after that day?" Azura asked.
"I…"
"The events continued. Your brief ownership of Hircine's ring, before all of this. Your encounter with Meridia, through her beacon and later her sword. With Nocturnal, in her sanctum. With the Night Mother, as her Listener. Your use of the Staff regularly, constantly, absorbing greater and greater power from more and more varied sources. And now, channeling the full power of a Dragon through your own body, if only for a moment.
You have crafted yourself into a very specific being, Xander: A being perfectly tuned to accepting the power of outside entities. You are a 'conduit' for magicka not your own, and in levels far greater than most mortals could dream of mustering with their own might. It is why it is so easy for you to contact Daedra and other spirits. Why you and you alone could see the memories of Vulbahlok, unaided, why the Staff of Magnus is such an incredible boon for you."
A pause. Then,
"It is why your body is no longer capable of producing magicka of its own."
"...what." Xander said, quietly.
"Your magicka circuits have been scrubbed raw, flooded time and time again with more energy than they were designed to bear." Azura said, her voice sad. "They have adapted to bear it, but they have given up on generating power without it."
"You're lying." He declared, mouth dry.
"I'm not, and you know it. I'm sorry, Alexander. You will never cast a spell under your own power again."
Xander dimly realised that he was on his knees, forehead resting on the altar. Other people were talking, but he couldn't hear them.
"Why." He whispered. "Why did you do this to me?"
"At first, personal desire." Azura admitted. "But, later, a wish to help you."
"You call this help?" He spat.
"You are a loophole, conduit. Daedra may not freely enter Nirn, we must act through our mortal agents. But the degree to which I can act through you is greater than any mortal or ritual before you. The power I can bring to bear in your body is immense; greater than your family, greater perhaps even than the Dovahkiin himself."
Azura's voice had lost its sadness, instead turning bright with hope. "This is the culmination of my planning. If you give to me your body, I can use it to lay your enemies low. I can defeat your brother and end the schemes of the Thalmor. Give yourself to me, and I can save the world!"
...Hooo, baby, we have a lot to talk about, huh?
I apologise to those of you who've been waiting for me to explain the 'something very important inside Xander was lost forever' line for almost two years now. But yes, what happened down in Labyrinthian was that Xander's magicka regeneration was dropped by 100%. He just didn't notice, because he became so reliant on using the Staff of Magnus to power his spells.
And now Azura's offering him a solution to all his problems...for a price.
Should probably bring up last chapter too, so hands up: who saw it coming? It's been a day and a half but I've got a lot of reviews with a lot of emotion about Julius' reveal. At the very least, we all finally know who the antagonist of the final act is.
It's a sibling showdown, everybody, and the world just might fall apart because of it.
Next Time: The Disasters reconvene in Winterhold. The Dragonborn arrives in Sovngarde.