The sun was still several hours away from the western horizon when Ako left Dragonsreach. It was the first time in a long while that he had been amongst any sort of nobility, and he found Jarl Balgruuf to be a pleasant surprise. He was a good man, concerned with the wellbeing of his subjects and unpretentious; Ako found the man to be worthy of only the utmost respect. If all the world's rulers were like Balgruuf, much sadness would be avoided.

Given that he would leave in the morning, Ako decided to search out an alchemy shop to stock up on potions. He was confident of handling the barrow without too many difficulties, but the aftereffects of saving Farkas might come back to haunt him if he encountered undue trouble. On the other side of the market from the inn, a sign declared the shop to be 'Arcadia's Cauldron'.

Arcadia turned out to be a kind older Imperial woman, more than happy to sell the potions to Ako. She tried to convince him to buy potions to cure disease, insinuating his white fur to be indicative of illness. A loud laugh in reply, accompanied by a glowing golden light that surrounded both Ako and Arcadia, quickly put paid to that ploy. Arcadia grudgingly conceded that, with his magic, Ako did not really need curative potions.

Ako then visited the Temple of Kynareth to check up on his patient. The smell of healing herbs filled the air, mixed with the sweetness of flowers arranged on the patients' dressers. Farkas was lying on one of the beds, awake, softly talking with his twin. Ako quietly walked closer and took a seat near the bed, asking, "So? How are you feeling today?"

Farkas looked at him, confusion etched on his face. "Who are you?"

Ako gave a soft chuckle. "Of course, you were unconscious yesterday. Ako'Siirto, Arch-Mage of Winterhold."

The Nord turned to Vilkas, chiding him, "You didn't say the Arch-Mage was a cat!"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind because, Ice-brain, you were dying!" Vilkas retorted.

Laughing again, Ako said, "Brotherly love is one of a kind. But I'm serious, how are you feeling?"

Stretching out his limbs, Farkas replied, "Great! Well, more tired than I've ever been, but still healthy, I think. I don't know how to say it."

Smiling happily, Ako said, "That's good to hear, it means everything is growing back as it should. The tiredness is merely because your body had an immense amount of healing magic forced through it."

After an awkward silence settled, Farkas cleared his throat and stammered, "Arch-Mage? I…. thank you for saving my life. Aela said without you, it would have been the end. I… thank you."

"You are most welcome, Farkas. I am glad it turned out for the best," Ako replied gently. His voice grew serious as he went on, "But listen. You should have died yesterday. I do not believe in coincidence anymore. The fact that I walked by just as you got hit, or that you didn't hit your head or that your armour bent just the right way that I could keep you alive long enough to get it off…"

Taking a deep breath, Ako said, "Someone was looking out for you. I don't know who or what, for whatever reasons, but you are here, where you should be dead. My advice is that you take this second chance, and make it worth it."

Letting Farkas get more sleep and rest, Ako and Vilkas left the temple. The Khajiit stopped under the old tree and turned to Vilkas.

"I believe you wanted to talk to me?"

Vilkas nodded and replied, "Not just me. The rest of the Circle as well. Follow me, I'll take you to a place where you can wait while I get the rest."

As they walked towards the upturned boat, Ako remembered that Vilkas introduced himself as 'of the Companions.' He wanted to ask about it then, but was interrupted by the arriving ingredients. He asked Vilkas, "What can you tell me about the Companions?"

The Nord looked somewhat surprised at the question, but responded, "Well… that has a long answer and a short answer. Which one do you want?"

"Short one, for now."

"It starts with Ysgramor and his Five Hundred Companions, who drove the elves from Skyrim after their return from Atmora. After they succeeded, Jeek of the River, Captain of the ship Jorrvaskr, left Saarthal to explore. They found the Skyforge, an area that was feared and avoided by the elves, and settled. Ever since then, the Companions have been based from the mead hall here. Whiterun itself grew up around Jorrvaskr. The Companions themselves are a band of noble warriors, seeking honour in life and glory in battle. We solve problems that others can't, if the coin is good enough."

Ako thought for a bit, then asked, "So… you're a bunch of mercenaries with a long history, is that it?"

Vilkas glared at the Khajiit for a bit, then shrugged. "Something like that. I wouldn't expect a mage to understand anything about honour."

The Arch-Mage snorted. "What is honour then? Giving everything I have to save a complete stranger's life is not honourable?"

Vilkas looked uncomfortable at the reminder but changed the subject as they came up to the upturned ship, revealing it to be the actual Jorrvaskr. How they got it here in one piece was a mystery to Ako. Windhelm, where Ysgramor supposedly landed, was days away by horse or carriage. To move a ship this far intact… it was an impressive feat. And he did respect the history of the group, only the Psijics; amongst all the guilds of Tamriel, could claim a similar age.

Vilkas led Ako around the building. To the left of the building stood a large cliff face, with a large carved eagle rising above it. Ako could feel the thrum of powerful magic resonating from it, a clean, light magic. There was also a faint undercurrent of darker magic, but it was dormant, sleeping. A few practice dummies stood behind Jorrvaskr, archery targets spread around them. He ignored it for the moment, resolving to take a closer look once his meeting with the Companions was over.

A porch had a few tables set out, topped with food and drink in relatively copious amounts. The redheaded archer – Aela, Ako recalled – sat at one of the tables enjoying a late lunch, wearing the same strange armour she wore the previous day. Vilkas directed Ako to take a seat while he went into the ship through a set of double doors. Aela nodded a greeting while Ako lost himself in the carvings that decorated the porch. They were faded and worn though, and Ako couldn't make out details, to his disappointment. Instead, he started sketching the large eagle.

The wings rose straight from the ground, roughly hewn into shape as it reached the shoulders. The body itself was better craftsmanship, the feathers detailed and well proportioned, with the lower body hidden behind a lower ledge. The head and neck got the most attention, with the beak and eyes exquisite, the head feathers as intricate as real feathers. Smoke seemed to dissipate from the beak, distorting the air in front of it.

The double doors behind Ako opened and several figures in heavy armour came clanking through. He finished with his sketch and stood, absently noting he needed to find a new journal at the pace he was making sketches. Turning around he faced 3 figures clad in matching armour, one of them Vilkas, and Aela joined them. The armour itself caught Ako's attention, embossed with flowing silver curves on dark steel, looking vaguely similar to the faded carvings on Jorrvaskr. Their belts were fastened by a snarling wolf, reflected by the same design at the throat, presumably where cloaks could be fastened.

The two unknown figures bore a posture of authority. One was an old Nord, appearing to be in his early seventies, with grey, nearly white hair and beard, but still strong and healthy. 'He must have been one heck of a warrior in his prime,' Ako mused to himself. The other was a bald man, seemingly around his fiftieth year, with a scar running across his face, one eye blinded by it. The four warriors stared at Ako in what appeared to be an attempt to intimidate him, but he just looked on with a bemused expression. He was intrigued by the almost feral look in the bald man's working eye.

The air was heavy with an earthy scent, a foulness tainting it. After a few moments, Ako said, "Interesting armour. Well made, too. Rather fitting, isn't it?"

The old man let out a chuckle, deep and sonorous, before looking Ako in the eyes and saying, "Welcome to our halls, Arch-Mage. I am Kodlak White-Mane, Harbinger of the Companions. These are the members of the Circle, our greatest and noblest warriors. Vilkas and Aela you've met, the other is Skjor, a warrior of renown. Please, have a seat, so that we may have our discussion."

Ako sat down in the same chair he'd been sitting in while sketching, and the Circle sat down across him. Kodlak offered Ako some mead, which he politely declined. Ako discreetly cast a spell, which confirmed his suspicions that arose from the scent: All members of the Circle were werewolves.

Kodlak started speaking. "Now, then. Aela says you came running in, turning the giant they were busy with into ash. Farkas somehow got hurt, and you then cut off his armour. You healed him somewhat, and then carried him here. I would like to hear your side of the story, seeing as you are a short and skinny cat. So, it does sound somewhat… unbelievable. And, how did you know he was a werewolf?"

Ako laughed a bit before he answered, "Indeed, Harbinger. I am not built for that, but magic helps. I heard the giant's roar while walking past, and I would have stayed out of it until Farkas got in the way of the club. I… hmm, disposed of the giant and tried to heal Farkas. I knew because… it has to do with the spell I used. There are two broad classes of healing spells: The first, most common one, manipulates the magic to hasten the body's natural healing. This is the same type of healing as potions, which is why it leaves scars.

"The second type uses the magic to heal the body using the person doing the healing's power. This is much more complex and difficult to do than normal healing, but it is also a lot more effective, since it can heal that which the body can't, such as head injuries, and it leaves no scars. I use the first method when I can, but the fact that Farkas survived the hit at all was something of a miracle. So I resorted to the second type, but it involves a lot more of the injured person's natural essence, as such. The wolf spirit, I assume, rejected and interfered with my magic when I tried to heal Farkas. I then cast a spell designed to reveal something like that at Aela and the other girl, and Aela had the same mark. So I asked her.

"Once I knew, I could adjust the spell to mostly avoid the wolf spirit's attention, but it was a lot more taxing for me to use. He was severely injured, and I couldn't heal everything. So I used the last bits of energy I had left to magically strengthen myself, and carried him to the temple where there were people enough to heal him."

Kodlak looked to be deep in thought at Ako's words, before asking, "How bad was it?"

Ako had a serious expression when he answered, "Very bad. A broken spine and torn spinal cord, crushed ribs, shattered hips and punctured lungs were what I healed at the farm. Once I got him here, the priestess still had to deal with the broken legs, pulverised shoulder blades and snapped arms. All in all, he was damn lucky I walked past. He probably had less than a minute if I hadn't stepped in. I don't know if he'll be crippled or not, but I do not think so. He's made a good recovery, all things considered."

Skjor, the bald one-eyed warrior, looked stunned as he asked, "Torn spinal cord? And he won't be crippled? How….?"

Ako allowed a smug little smirk to creep onto his face. "I told you I could heal what the body usually can't."

Kodlak chuckled in amazement. "Well, if there were any doubts as to whether or not you are Arch-Mage, I think that has been allayed. But now, onto the real matter of concern. Apparently, you told Vilkas you wouldn't spill the secret. Is that true?"

"You have been here a while as a group, no? And I doubt that you turned only yesterday. I haven't heard any reports of rogue wolves, and I do keep tabs on the happenings in Skyrim as far as I can. Therefore, I can only conclude you have good control and timing when and if you turn. So no, I do not see a reason to turn you in. Why, everything I know about illusion magic was taught to me by a vampire. She moved on a fair number of years ago, but she was harmless to the College. Bandits and rogue mages, not so much," Ako finished with a small laugh.

Vilkas looked startled at this news. "The College knowingly harboured a bloodsucker?"

Ako laughed loudly at this, while Kodlak reprimanded Vilkas, "Come now, boy, don't be the pot that called the kettle black."

Once Ako regained his composure, Aela asked him, "Why did you save Farkas?"

Ako shrugged. "I was there, and I could. Besides, in hindsight, if I can cheat Hircine of a soul, even if only temporarily, I'll feel good about it." Ako saw that all of the warriors, except Kodlak, looked at him with shock in their eyes.

Vilkas stuttered, "H – hircine? Soul? What do the Daedra have to do with this?"

Ako gave a deadpan look as he replied with a condescending tone. "Surely you must know how lycanthropy came to be? It is Hircine's doing. He is the Father of Manbeasts, Lord of the Hunt. When a werebeast dies, their soul goes to the Hunting Grounds, His plane of Oblivion. The beings there are hunting and hunted until the end of time. Not something I would look forward to, personally."

Ako thought for a moment about the Daedra. They were a pantheon of godlike beings, that each resided in their own plane of Oblivion. Each of the sixteen had its own domain, Sheogorath of Madness, Hircine of the Hunt, Vaermina of Nightmares and so on. Most were considered evil in mortal eyes, in opposition to the gods, the pantheon of the Divines, the Aedra. There were exceptions to the evil, with Azura of the Dusk and Dawn considered benevolent, along with Meridia, the Lady of Infinite Energies and Scourge of the Undead. As was often the case with beings far more powerful than mortal comprehension, morality lost its meaning where the Daedra or the Aedra were considered.

The Aedra were similar with regards to the domains, with Akatosh of Time considered to be the chief of the Divines, while Mara of Love and Compassion was most often associated with marriage. Whether there was Eight or Nine Divines was a sore topic for Tamriel, with Talos, the supposed Ninth, being a former Emperor who ascended. Ako himself didn't worship any of the deities fervently, though he held respect for the Divines and Daedra both, with occasional prayers towards Akatosh.

Ako was pulled from his thoughts by a strangled gasp coming from the dark-haired Nord, who looked extremely alarmed at the news, while the bald one and redhead looked intrigued. Ako couldn't quite place the expression on their faces. Eagerness perhaps? Kodlak just took all this information in sagely, a beacon of calm around the tense table.

Ako continued, "I do not know how to cure lycanthropy in its advanced stage, in case you were wondering. And the College does not have the knowledge either. I am sorry about that."

Vilkas looked at Ako with suspicion and desperation, "Is there a cure then?"

Kodlak looked sharply at Ako as he answered, "Probably, yes. I have a fair idea of how said cure would work, too, but I'll need to experiment on living subjects before I can safely say I can cure them without side effects."

Skjor asked with a hint of dread in his voice, "What side-effects?"

"Death for one. I could break their minds irreversibly, render them a soulless husk with the Daedra alone knowing where the soul ended up. Most likely for a first try with Daedric magic is that the soul ends up somewhere worse than the Hunting Grounds. And trust me, there are enough of those," Ako finished with a grimace.

An uncomfortable silence settled across the table. After a while, Kodlak cleared his throat and said, "Well, as the Harbinger of the Companions, I thank you for saving Farkas. If there is anything we can do to repay you, please do not hesitate to ask."

Ako shrugged and waved them off. "It was the right thing to do."

After another few moments of silence, Skjor stood and went inside. Aela and Vilkas moved to the courtyard and started practising, she her archery and Vilkas working on a training dummy with a large greatsword. Only Kodlak remained at the table. He looked to Ako and said, "All of us are grateful, you know? It's just that most of them are uncomfortable with magic in general. Vilkas specifically. I think he might still be in denial over how close Farkas came to death yesterday. And the others have reasons in their past to be uncomfortable with you as well, however unfair it might be."

An indifferent shrug was the only reaction that Ako gave. Kodlak told him, "It would be my pleasure to invite you for dinner at my table tonight. I feel as though we have much to learn from each other."

Ako gave a short bow as he replied, "It would be my honour to accept your invitation, Harbinger."

"Excellent. See you at sunset then?"

"That sounds good to me. Until then, Harbinger."

Kodlak left Ako alone outside, and Ako walked back the way he came. He noticed a set of stairs leading up to the carved eagle that stood to the north of Jorrvaskr, which he somehow missed when he came around the first time. He started climbing the stairs, and with every step, he felt the pure, powerful magic resonating stronger within him. The resonance felt ancient, older than almost anything Ako had felt before, yet it still felt real and tangible, in the present.

When Ako reached the top of the stairs, he noted that the carved eagle stood vigil above a large forge that he surmised to be the Skyforge. An old Nord man, burly and strong, was sharpening a blade on a grindstone nearby. A water trough and an armourer's bench stood close by, with various pieces of armour and weaponry lying around. As Ako neared the forge itself, he saw that it was not a normal wood-fired forge. Instead, it looked (and gave off heat) like molten rock. He wondered what kept the rock molten, lacking an obvious heat source. The Arch-Mage theorized that the magic he could feel so strongly must be responsible.

The sound of someone clearing his throat alerted Ako to the fact that the grind of the blade against stone had stopped. Turning around, he saw the older man looking at him with a scowl on his face. He wore little in the way of clothing, muscles showing beneath the meagre straps of animal hide covering his upper body. An apron of the same material protected the lower body. It seemed like the perfect attire for someone working all day near the heat of the Skyforge, even in the cold of Skyrim.

"You're not a Companion. Who are you to bother me here?" the Nord asked gruffly.

"My apologies, Master Smith, I did not mean to be rude. I was merely curious about the magic I could feel coming from here, so I investigated," Ako replied in a soothing tone. The blacksmith appeared to be mollified by this as Ako went on, "I assume this is the famous Skyforge?"

"Aye. My clan-fathers have worked it since the Gray-Manes first came to Whiterun. Finest forge in all of Skyrim, and it produces the best steel, too. Best in all of Tamriel," the man said with more than a hint of pride in his voice.

Ako nodded appreciatively at the information, and asked, "Are you a Companion then, Master Gray-Mane?"

The Nord snorted. "Hmpf. You have nice manners for a cat. No, I am not a Companion, but I am honoured to serve them, as none of them can work a forge. I should get back to it, but before you go, you said something about magic. What did you mean?"

Ako looked surprised that a Nord, a Companion least of all, would show interest in magic. "Ah, well… I was coming from a meeting with the Circle, and I felt the magic emanating from here. I saw the stairs and took a look." Walking towards the forge, he ran his hands over the edge. "There is powerful magic here, very old as well. It would definitely help a smith, but I don't know how exactly." The Khajiit neglected to mention the dark aura that was also nearby, which had the same feeling of power and age.

"Hrm. Interesting, but I'd best get to my work," the blacksmith said, and he turned away towards the bench.

"Good day, Master Gray-Mane," Ako said in farewell. 'What a strange man… but he seems to be a good man too,' he thought to himself as he left. Going back to the inn, Ako booked another night for his room and started packing to get an early start towards the barrow the next morning.

As Ako came up to the doors of Jorrvaskr, just as the sun was setting, he could hear loud and boisterous songs coming from inside. Pushing open the door, he saw a roaring fire in a central fire pit, with tables lining one side of the pit. Elegant tapestries, embroidered with historical figures and deeds, hung from the carved pillars that seemed to support the hull. It was a strange feeling to stand in an overturned ship.

To his left several kegs of mead stood, ready to be tapped. Hunting trophies were mounted on the walls, together with various stacked weapon racks. The tables themselves were laden with roasted meat and vegetables, with very limited amounts of cutlery. The smell of alcohol and grilled venison permeated the air, with an undertone of sweat. Completing the picture was a group of 15 or so warriors, all in armour. It was very much how Ako would have imagined a band of mercenaries to act, except for the lack of brawling.

The sound of the door opening brought silence to the warriors, and most of them stared at Ako with varying degrees of suspicion. Luckily Aela quickly recognised him and called, "Arch-Mage! The Harbinger has been expecting you. Follow me, I'll take you to him." The merry band began talking softly when Ako's identity had been revealed as he followed Aela to a corner, where a flight of stairs led down.

As he reached the bottom, he noticed a dormitory room directly ahead of him and a long hallway to his right. Aela had turned right, and led Ako into a room at the end. Kodlak White-Mane was sitting at a table in the corner, with a stew of roasted venison and greens, along with fresh bread, set out on the table. The Harbinger thanked Aela and invited Ako to sit.

As they started eating, Kodlak said, "Thank you for coming Arch-Mage. I must admit, this is the first time that I have met an actively serving Arch-Mage. I have been Harbinger for nearly 2 decades, and I have not made any attempt at establishing relationships with the College."

Ako chuckled and replied, "I confess, I am in the same boat. Truth be told, I didn't even consider whether or not your company still had a presence in Skyrim until Vilkas introduced himself yesterday. And please, call me Ako."

Kodlak returned the laugh, before he asked, "I have met many Khajiit in my life, but never before one that used magic. I would like to hear the tale of your life, if you don't mind?"

"I'd be happy to tell it. I grew up as the adopted child of two Breton mages, Anton and Mena Franc. They were former court mages in High Rock, but for some reason involving the local politics and threats of jail, they moved to Cyrodiil, and eventually Leyawiin. Anton found me as a cub wrapped in blankets, on their doorstep one stormy night.

"He made concerted efforts to find my real parents, but after a few months they gave up. They were already past middle age then, but they couldn't find an orphanage." Ako gave a soft, affectionate laugh. "Apparently I had clung to Mena's legs for the next year or so, so by the time they heard of one near Cheydinhal, neither Anton nor she wanted to let me go."

Kodlak laughed at this, before he enquired, "Leyawiin is so close to Elsweyr, there must be a lot of Khajiit there. I've always found the Khajiit to be very loyal to their own. Wasn't there a family willing to take you in?"

Ako gave a bitter chuckle at the question. "I'm a pariah amongst the Khajiit. Anton theorized that was why I was abandoned as a cub. Look in my eyes and tell me you are not unnerved. Tell me you have seen eyes like mine before." His midnight blue irises around slanted slits, gold flecks prominent, sparkled in the candlelight. Kodlak had to admit they were exceedingly strange eyes, a strange uncomfortable feeling curling in his chest as he struggled to look the Arch-Mage directly in the eyes.

Curling his long tail around and up in front of him, Ako continued, "It was not only my eyes. Most Khajiit have to wait a few years before they grow their patterns. I was found with this flaming pattern already. And Khajiit are a superstitious folk. Parents cursed me as an evil omen and their cubs shunned me as a monster. The other races looked down on me because I'm a cat and I used magic. As a result, I had only one friend and a few acquaintances. Books were my real comfort, my parents having amassed a rather large library. And there was the local Mages' Conclave, and through my parents, I had nearly free rein in that library as well."

Taking a break from talking to eat, Kodlak asked him, "You mentioned one friend. Who was that?"

With a fond smile on his face, Ako finished chewing to answer, "Ma'Fea. He was a troublemaker wherever he went, but a better friend there was not. His parents were killed when the war passed through Leyawiin, so he lived on the streets with his older brothers and sisters. They were the acquaintances I mentioned. I wonder what did happen to him."

Seeing the confused look on Kodlak's face, Ako went on, "I lost contact with him when I left Leyawiin. It wasn't exactly my plan, but I haven't seen him since."

"Why did you leave Leyawiin?" Kodlak asked.

"Oh, to break house arrest. At the tender age of 16, the Thalmor placed me under de facto house arrest. I was immensely talented at magic. A year earlier the resident Thalmor operatives offered to take me to Alinor to further my training. My parents stalled for a while, but I eventually refused, because of what I had heard from Ma'Fea's siblings, what the Thalmor did in the war. And because I was well-read, even at that young age, I knew I would never agree with the Thalmor.

"Soon enough, the Leyawiin guards began 'encouraging' me to stay only at my parents' house, or at the Mages' building. It didn't stop me from sneaking out, but it did encourage me to become adept at using invisibility and muffle spells. The guards knew I was slipping around them with ease, but unfortunately, they began targeting Ma'Fea and his siblings, since they were the only ones I interacted with. With the help of my parents, I got passage on a ship to Morrowind, and from there on to Winterhold, where my history with the Thalmor was unknown. When they caught up a couple of years later, I was already a valued student under the College's protection."

Kodlak looked intrigued and impressed at the tale that Ako recited. He certainly had not expected anything like it. However, the Companion was still intrigued as to how Ako had become the head of the College, and asked the Khajiit. A sad, melancholy look came over Ako as he continued his story.

"Seven or so years after I joined, as a senior student and one of the strongest spellcasters at the College, I was part of an archaeological dig at Saarthal. You should know of it. Through a series of bizarre coincidences, we uncovered an ancient artefact of immense power. Indeed, we speculated that it was the cause of the infamous 'Night of Tears'. The artefact was retrieved and brought to the College itself.

"You have heard of the Psijic Order, I presume?" Ako asked while taking a sip of water. At Kodlak's nod, he went on, "Well, they became involved with the whole thing, and sent me on a merry trip through Eastmarch to retrieve a staff as ancient as the artefact and connected with it. You know, the artefact felt a lot like the Skyforge does."

"What do you mean by that?" Kodlak asked with a frown on his face.

Ako shrugged, and answered, "The magic coming from it. The Skyforge has strong and old magic running through it. The artefact, which we dubbed the Eye of Magnus, had the same… timeless quality to it. It felt as if had always been, and would always continue to exist. Anyhow, that was off-topic, sorry. On with the story. When I returned to the College to restock, having found the Staff of Magnus' location, the Thalmor 'adviser' to the College had somehow manipulated the Eye and shut out everyone from it. It looked like he was draining and absorbing the magical energy coming from it.

"You might have heard rumours that Winterhold exploded, about ten years back? That was Ancano, the Thalmor's, doing. The leadership of the College, stunted as it was by the explosion, immediately concluded that the Staff of Magnus should be retrieved, as soon as possible. I was sent as I was the strongest spellcaster still mobile, and I'm sure you've heard of the horrors in Labyrinthian? Because that was where the Staff was. Having blazed my way through the swarms of draugr awaiting in the ruin, I fought a dragon priest that held the Staff.

"That was the hardest fight of my life. I can honestly say I have no idea how I survived. Having claimed the Staff, I went back to the College. Since the Staff was connected to the Eye, I could drain the power that Ancano had, and with the help of the rest of the College, he was killed. The Psijics showed up, proclaimed me to be the new Arch-Mage, and spirited away the Eye. Not much has happened since, besides mastering magic that few ever have."

Kodlak looked stunned at the story, and said, "Well, boy, now that is an impressive story. So you left home at 16, became Arch-Mage at 23, and ten years later you still look like you are barely into your twenties? How?"

"Powerful mages live a long time, so I guess it has something to do with that. No one knows exactly why, but I speculate it is to do with the fact that magic comes from Aetherius. Powerful mages would be closer to the immortal plane, and as such, some traits might pass over. Some of the Telvanni Wizard-Lords are millennia old, and I assume the same goes for the Altmer mages," Ako replied with a shrug.

They continued with idle chatting for a while, until Kodlak asked Ako what had brought him to walk past the farm the previous day.

Ako looked thoughtful for a moment, before he asked Kodlak, "Have you heard about Helgen?"

"What about it?" Kodlak asked, a curious look on his face.

"It was sacked by a dragon three days ago."

"A dragon? By the Nine… does that mean the End Times are here?" Kodlak gasped, his face pale in the dwindling candlelight.

"I know next to nothing about the traditions and legends surrounding dragons, but they are real and alive now. Thought the Companions might need to know. Please don't spread it, as it may cause a panic in the populace," Ako replied. Continuing, he said with a sad smile, "Anyhow, I was in Cyrodiil for the past 3 months. I visited my parents for the last time."

"Last time? I'm sorry to hear that," Kodlak replied with sympathy.

Ako chuckled, "Oh don't be, they had long and full lives. They were in their middle sixties when they found me. It's has been 32 years since. They sent me a letter, saying they wanted to see me a last time. I haven't been home since I left half a lifetime ago. I got there, and we caught up on everything that had happened since I left. They were old and tired of clinging on to life through the healers' and their own magic though, so they just stopped the healing, and passed in peace," Ako said with a melancholic look.

He went on, "After I buried them, I wandered through Cyrodiil for a month and a half, making my way north, living off the land as much as I could. I passed through Helgen just as it was attacked, and came here with fellow refugees."

Kodlak frowned at that statement, "Surely you could take on a dragon, Arch-Mage?"

A rueful laugh was Ako's response. "I hit it with spells that would have killed almost everything in Tamriel. If it noticed it, it did not show it. It certainly wasn't hindered by the spells."

Kodlak just stared at Ako with wide eyes. The Khajiit noticed and said in a comforting tone, "But I would also note I didn't have access to my full magical ability, and it appeared a lot bigger than the dragon that hangs above Jarl Balgruuf's throne. I would guess it was unusually powerful. Others might be less powerful, or it might be vulnerable to more powerful spells."

Kodlak looked at Ako, saying with a small grin spreading up his face, "Ah well. Either way, I'll make sure to go to Sovngarde in a way fitting for a warrior."

"Only if you can find the cure."

"Ah, yes… that is true. Arch-Mage… if you don't mind me asking, how would the cure work? And are you sure you can't do it?" Kodlak asked with a sad look.

Ako thought for a bit, struggling to find words. "Well, from what I know, the wolf's blood is not really to do with blood, but rather a spirit which then taints the blood. To be cursed means to entwine your soul with that of the spirit, bond them but not quite permanently. As odd as it may sound, a necromancer would be your best bet in removing the wolf spirit. I have a working knowledge of it, but I consider necromancy that works with black souls to be abhorrent. Therefore, I have an idea of the theory, but no practical experience."

Ako sighed before he went on, "I could probably do it without too much trouble, but I do not have enough confidence in my knowledge to try something like this for the first time on people. For example, I can heal scars, no matter their age or severity. The procedure is dangerous and can easily spiral out of control, but I have practised enough on dead animals and willing prisoners to have complete confidence. This has the same complications. I might be able to do it, but you could die in a horrendously painful way."

The Nord looked grim as they sat in silence. Ako broke it by saying, "I'm sorry that I can't be of more help. But, I can promise that I'll look in our archives for anything on the subject, and help as much as I can. Unfortunately, my main focus must be the return of the dragons. But the Arch-Mage can delegate some of his work." Ako had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes with that last statement.

Kodlak's spirits seemed to lift at that. As the evening progressed, the two leaders talked amiably on the current events and found a refreshing common ground in remaining neutral with regards to the civil war. When Ako made to leave, he suddenly remembered the Skyforge and turned to ask the Harbinger, "Excuse me, Harbinger! I just remembered. You said this afternoon that I have but to ask if I need something."

Kodlak nodded for Ako to go on. "Well, I would like to use the Skyforge in the not too distant future to craft a staff for myself. My previous staff is sharing the ashes of Helgen," Ako said with a wry smile. The Harbinger gave a short bark of laughter before he said yes.

After the farewells, Ako walked back to the inn. Stopping at the top of the stairs leading down to the lower district, the Plains district he'd learned, he admired the beauty of the skies. The aurorae were bright, the northern lights dancing in colours he had only rarely seen before. Pulsing briskly in wavy forms, the blue and yellow glows were smattered with purple blotches, a far cry from the usual green or red that the Northern Lights produced.

Somehow, seeing these strange aurorae gave Ako a feeling that the world was changing, in many more ways than one, and it would not necessarily be for the best.

AN: Somehow got 6 and a half thousand words out of a chapter that was meant to get us to where the next chapter ends... Ako, why do you wander so? Anyhow, apologies if some parts seem rambly and very much info dump like – my initial audience I wrote this for had little to no idea what the Elder Scrolls series is, hence me adding parts that might be common knowledge for most readers now. As all the other early chapters, my immense gratitude to empire1003 for proofreading this and making it many magnitudes better. Hope you enjoy, and I welcome any and all feedback. Especially in a chapter like this, please let me know if the characters are distinct from each other and sound different. Probably my greatest worry. I'm a good writer, but not that great a storyteller (if, indeed, I can make any sort of claim to the title ;) ).