Mia could have sworn she was asleep. She wasn't sure, then, why she was surrounded by darkness and felt very much so awake. Out of the darkness before her, a mass of tentacles and a large eye appeared.
"I do not like being ignored, Dragonborn," came a familiar and disembodied voice. He sounded calm, but she'd heard enough of him to know when he was furious, disappointed, and otherwise critical. This was one of those times.
"Piss off," she snapped back.
"You forget your place." Several of the tentacles lashed out and wound around her arms, legs and neck; she tried to protest, but the tentacle around her neck squeezed too tightly for her to speak, and breathing was much harder. Once she realized she could feel the pain, she knew instantly she was not dreaming. She was very much so awake. "I am Hermaeus Mora, Dragonborn, and you... you are my servant. I have found your ignorance over the past eight years cute enough to tolerate, but now... now, you will obey, or I shall reunite you with Miraak."
She strained against the tentacles binding her arms, trying to reach for the one gripping her neck; his hold was firm, however, and she couldn't move. She shot a fierce glare at the eye before her, her only means of being defiant.
"Now..." The tentacle around her neck loosened just a little. "I require your presence in Apocrypha."
"For what?" she growled.
"You will repel an intruder, Dragonborn. He has not yet arrived, but he will before long. He comes to profane my realm, defile the knowledge I possess."
"So just gather it again," she scowled.
"I suppose that's a solution," he mused. "There is so little to actually do here, it may be worthwhile to murder entire towns for their secrets again... or, better yet, send you to do it for me."
She did not like that idea, and muttered her mostly silent protest under her breath.
"Alternately, you could come to Apocrypha, intercept this intruder, pierce his throat, then present his corpse to me, that I may rip out his heart. No matter which you choose, I benefit. Ultimately, you will choose the path you prefer."
"And if I tell ya t'piss off and never-" She didn't get to finish her retort; the tentacle squeezed her throat again, and she struggled for air.
"Then I shall reunite the First Dragonborn and the Last Dragonborn, right now, and find someone else who may yet appreciate everything I can offer them." The tentacles around her limbs let go, but the tentacle around her neck kept her suspended in mid-air. "Make your choice, Dragonborn. How much do you value your life?"
"...ia! Wake up!"
The words caused the Akaviri woman's eyes to snap open, and she bolted upright, breathing heavily. Her hand slid to her throat, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. Had it been a dream after all?
"Finally," she heard the familiar voice of Adalla sigh out. "You were thrashing in your sleep... what happened, Mia?"
"...He wants me t'head t'Apocrypha," she murmured quietly, glancing about. She wanted to make sure Elsera, Runael or the Breton knight named Neria weren't within earshot; none of them knew she had a very strained 'relationship' with Hermaeus Mora. "He threatened t'kill me if I said 'no'."
"...And...?" Adalla replied just as quietly.
"...He had me neck, Adalla," Mia whispered. "When he strangled me, I... I felt it. This weren't nothin' like other times. He's serious this time, Adalla..."
"So you said 'yes'." The high elf's tone was flat.
"I had no choice!" Mia exclaimed as quietly as she could. "He just wants me t'take out an intruder what all threatens his realm. The alternative is that he kills me, then kills other people t'rebuild his library - or he keeps me alive and makes me do it for him!"
Adalla's expression was troubled, and she bit her lower lip. Mia recognized it; the high elf was conflicted on her decision.
"I gotta do this, Adalla," Mia said quietly. "The rest of ya just gotta catch up t'them bastards in Labyrinthian without me..." She slid her arms around Adalla and held her tight.
"...What am I supposed to say to the others? They have no idea, after all, and..."
"Just tell 'em somethin' came up what I can't ignore, and that I'll be back afore long, aye? It ain't a lie, so..." Mia was quite uncomfortable with the entire thing, but she was already fishing through her pack for the Black Book she carried with her. She knew Adalla was watching her, and was determined to avoid the high elf's gaze, lest she falter and second-guess her decision.
"Just... come back to me safely, Mia, please," Adalla pleaded softly. "I have no idea what I'd do without you..."
"Aye." Mia pulled out the book and just stared at it for a time. "It were a good eight years, but he ain't content t'just..." She sighed wearily.
Adalla also looked at the book, then up at Mia once more. Mia could practically sense Adalla's desire to speak, but whatever words she wanted to say faltered, for nothing was said.
"I'm comin' back t'ya, Adalla," Mia said, looking up and locking her gaze with her partner's gaze. "I love ya too damn much t'just give up, and I ain't gonna make a habit of servin' this prick."
Adalla gave a weak smile, then leaned forward and kissed Mia's lips gently. Before the Akaviri woman could return it, though, the high elf broke the kiss. She gave a small nod, then stood up to leave. Mia felt, for a moment, as if this was a bad idea for a multitude of reasons.
"I love you too, Mia." The high elf looked over her shoulder at her. "Adima will stay here and keep watch over you while we're in the ruin."
"Aye." With the acknowledgement, Mia opened the Black Book, read the first few words of it, and held her breath as the familiar strings of characters wrapped around her, then turned into tentacles. A moment later, Mia's figure was transparent to all who looked upon her.
The Augur's warning had been at the front of Runael's mind, ever since that soldier had told her, Neria, Ulfric and Galmar about the attack on the College, and the theft of the torc that permitted entry into Labyrinthian. Her mind was constantly abuzz, distracting thoughts flitting this way and that; it affected her ability to fight off the spirits that had mysteriously taken up residence in Labyrinthian.
"I thought you visited-" Elsera had begun saying.
"I did," the Arch-Mage muttered bitterly. A spirit approached them rapidly, frost hanging about its palms; Runael responded to the silent challenge by throwing a pair of Fireballs into its spectral chest, destroying it almost immediately. "It's been several years, though, and I doubt the ones I destroyed during my last visit were the only victims Labyrinthian claimed over the years." She watched as a spectral arrow flew past her head, and she blinked in surprise. A quick search revealed no source to her, which left her a little panicked; she was not keen on the Augur's warning coming to pass.
She watched as Neria stepped in front of her, shield raised and her strangely-glowing sword at the ready. For a brief moment, Runael could almost swear the Breton's shield glowed with the same light as the blade; a split-second later, a pinging sound reached her ears. She watched a large bolt of lightning arc through the air, striking a point off in the distance. The sound of the defeated spirit greeted her ears next, and the Arch-Mage felt her spirits sink; even to the end, she hadn't been able to see the spirit properly.
"Something's bothering you," Elsera commented. "I'll concede that spirit wasn't the most obvious sight, but it's not like you to have no idea where it is altogether." Runael felt a hand rest upon her shoulder and give a small squeeze. "What is it that's troubling you?"
There were a multitude of possible answers Runael could give: Mia's unexplained absence, the fact that she was setting foot in this eerie and haunted place once more, her concern for her colleagues and the students at the College of Winterhold... everything that came to mind sounded far better than her worry that the Augur's warning would come to pass.
An exasperated sigh greeted her ears, and she blinked as she realized Neria and Adalla were proceeding cautiously - leaving her and Elsera in the back for the time being.
"Arch-Mage-" the Dunmer began.
"It's..." The Altmer looked over her shoulder at Elsera, then faced forward once more and followed Neria and Adalla, paying little mind to the hand that tried to hold her shoulder firmly, but ultimately slipped off of her. "You've never heard of the Midden, right?"
"The... the what now?" Elsera asked tentatively. That was all the answer Runael needed.
"Nothing I say, then, will make any sort of sense to you," Runael responded. "I don't have the time to tell you everything about it, so for now, just let it be. I'll explain later, once we're out of here and in a safe place." She heard the almost silent sigh from the Dunmer, followed by a very faint string of mumbled Dunmeri words; she could only guess what was being said.
The sounds of conflict snapped her attention back to Neria and Adalla; the Breton had blocked a weapon Runael hadn't seen in years with her glowing shield once more. She drew a sharp breath as the weapon came into clearer view, a result of Neria's disarming blow; while Elsera sent a bolt of fire flying past her and toward another spectral fiend, Runael approached the weapon that had landed on the ground without a sound.
It looked like an ancient Nordic sword, but there was no metal to speak of; the entire weapon was a transparent blue hue. She picked the weapon up and turned it over in her hands. She'd already examined it closely the first time she visited Labyrinthian, so she already knew much about the weapon... but she was most disturbed by its presence at all. She hadn't encountered the insidious 'ghost weapons', as she referred to them, until she was much closer to the lair of Morokei, the Dragon Priest she'd had an extended battle with for ownership of the Staff of Magnus. To see the weapons this much closer to the entrance of Labyrinthian... what had changed in the ruin over time?
"Runael?" It was the concerned voice of Adalla that jostled her out of her reverie, and she glanced up at the other Altmer. "What's wrong?"
"This weapon, we... we shouldn't be seeing it. Not yet. We're nowhere near close enough for this to be an acceptable sight..." Runael bit her lower lip, and offered no resistance as the Breton knight carefully took the ghost blade from her hands.
"As you said," Neria began, "it's been several years. Things can change in that time." She examined it closely, then tossed the weapon aside and drew her glowing blade once more.
"If Labyrinthian is filled with these weapons now, then it's a dangerous trek for us," Runael murmured. "There are three variations; one of the weapons saps your strength, another drains magicka, and the third... the third attacks your very life-force." She gestured to the ghost blade. "If memory serves, the swords strike life-force." She genuinely couldn't remember; she'd tried to put the haunting weapons from her mind over the years, and had been successful in that.
Knowing the dangers the weaponry presented better prepared them for the subsequent conflicts with the spirits. Armed with the knowledge, Neria was able to block, parry and otherwise repel most of the attacks that came their way, leaving the wielders of the spectral weapons wide open to counterattack from Adalla, Elsera and Runael. The Arch-Mage was aware that her Dunmeri apprentice was collecting one of each spectral weapon, and imagined it was for the sake of research back at the College. Thinking of the College again made her wonder if there was anything or anyone to return to at the ancient institution of magic.
Runael immediately knew something was off when she saw something she hadn't seen in her first trip through Labyrinthian: a small door was nestled in a wall to their right, and would have been unassuming if it didn't shimmer before her very eyes. She stepped toward the shimmering door slowly and reached out toward it, wondering if it was safe to touch. The other three realized she had fallen behind, and returned to her.
"What's...?" Adalla's question faltered when she realized the door shimmered.
"This wasn't here last time," Runael said quietly. "We may find answers beyond this door... as well as the bandits that came in." She steeled herself, then grasped the door's handle; to her surprise, nothing peculiar happened. Her fingers closed around solid metal, and it provided the same resistance as any other door when she tugged it open. She was the first to step into the corridor beyond the shimmering door, and thus was the first to see the faint blue glow dancing upon the low ceiling overhead. While she had been first into the corridor, Neria and Adalla both pushed past her, their shields up and ready to block anything that may come their way.
At first, it proved to be a whole lot of nothing; long winding corridors, small chambers with the odd sarcophagus here and there, burial urns and linen wraps. After fighting their way through Labyrinthian, all four of them found it highly disconcerting that there was no opposition beyond the shimmering door. When they reached a pair of large, wooden double doors, however, it was Neria who noted the vivid blue glow at the edges of the door's frame, as if the source of the glow was on the other side. They silently confirmed they were prepared to continue forth, then held their breath as Neria, shield up and glowing, opened one of the doors.
What awaited them within the vast chamber beyond the double doors instantly put Runael on edge. In the center of the chamber sat what appeared to be a ritual circle on an elevated platform; in lieu of any physical sort of floor, however, was... she surmised 'pool of energy' was the best way to describe it. The energy was mostly dormant, but it occasionally flared upward. The air felt heavy in this room, as if something filled it; each time the energy flared, the weight in the air increased.
"So... much... raw magicka..." Elsera murmured softly, crimson eyes wide as she looked around. There was little else in the chamber other than this mysterious pool of energy, though - bookshelves with rotted books, bloodstained wraps of linen, burial urns that had been knocked over, ashes within spilled onto the floor of the chamber, and a set of stairs that led to a small balcony that overlooked the pool of energy.
"So that's what this is." The voice that responded to Elsera's comment was unfamiliar to them, and all four of them tensed. There was no one readily visible, though, and after all they'd seen, Runael wouldn't have been surprised if there was a spirit somewhere in the room, waiting to ambush them. "Good to know."
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Elsera snapped. Her hands lifted into the air, but her eyes went wide a moment later. "I-I can't channel..." she whispered, sounding horrified. Runael tried a moment later, and found that she, too, could not focus any magical energy into her palms. Panic settled in; she hadn't brought another weapon with her, as she hadn't been expecting a conflict of any sort in Labyrinthian.
A figure appeared on the balcony overhead; as distant as they were, Runael couldn't make out whether the figure was alive or dead. They were definitely humanoid, at the least, and wore what appeared to be scale armor. She could see their hair, but in the bright glow of the energy pool, she couldn't readily tell what color it was.
"Who are you?" Neria called up to them. She lowered her shield somewhat, much to Runael's surprise; another glance at the figure on the balcony, however, revealed the hilt of what was most likely a greatsword, and no other form of ranged weapon. If Elsera or herself could not focus magic in this strange room, then no doubt the figure could, either; if they wished to fight, they'd have to close the distance, and there would be ample opportunity to prepare for the unknown figure's advance.
"None of your business." The figure crossed their arms; with those four words, Runael heard unmistakably female tones in their voice, and began to assume the figure was a woman.
"The College of Winterhold was attacked so someone could gain entry to Labyrinthian," Runael snapped in retort. "As the Arch-Mage of the College, I think it's very much so my business, if no one else's!" At this point, she'd have drawn a weapon or begun charging a spell in her hands, but neither was a viable option for her at present; she just wanted to appear far more menacing. "Are you with the robed bandit that stole the torc?!"
"You misunderstand one thing," the woman replied. "I'm not with them... they are with me."
"Looks like we found the leader of Skyrim's bandits," Adalla intoned quietly. Runael nodded.
"To what end did you attack the College?" Runael asked sharply. "Why have you come here?"
"Look, I had nothing to do with the attack on the College," came the exasperated response and sigh. "In fact, knowing that, I have choice words for the bastard who was responsible. But as to why... well, I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"You're not leaving until you do," Neria shot back. It was true; that they could see, there was only one way into or out of this strange chamber, and they were standing in the woman's way.
"So I just tell you, and you let me be on my merry way? Yeah right," the woman mused. She began to move then, walking from the edge of the balcony to the top of the stairs, then down the stairs. "I think you're more likely to try killing me once you know what you want to know. Odds are, if I don't tell you, you'll try killing me anyway. The less you know, the better off my situation is."
"How so? According to your scenarios, you'll be dead either way," Elsera remarked.
"No. According to my scenarios, you'll try to kill me." The woman was at the bottom of the stairs now, and was approaching. "I didn't come to lead the bandits of Skyrim because of my good looks and greater intellect, that's for damn certain. I'm not 'just another bandit', and you'll all die if you try fighting me with that mindset. You'll try to kill me, but there's a good chance you'll fail and I'll get out."
"Doubtful. All we need to do is stand our ground and keep you from passing." Neria had her sword and shield at the ready once more. Runael could only stand there, knowing she had no weapon readily available or other means of fighting. All told, if a fight broke out, only Neria and Adalla would be fighting; right now, she and Elsera were just in the way.
"Hmm..." The woman's tone was thoughtful, and she was staring at Neria now. Runael cast a glance at Adalla, who returned the glance with a light, almost imperceptible nod. The armed Altmer began to move, as subtly as she could, and prepare for a strike while the woman was off-guard. "You... seem familiar..." The woman's words were directed at Neria. "But where could I possibly know...?"
Runael felt a blade bump against her hand, and she glanced down at it. Elsera was holding the ghost blade she'd collected, offering it to Runael. Deciding it was better than no weapon, she carefully took the blade by its hilt, then turned her attention back to the woman and Neria.
"I have... no..." Neria's voice trailed, and her stance relaxed slightly. "...Now that you mention it... you look... familiar, as well... very-" She gasped suddenly and took a couple steps back; Runael could now see the Breton's face, and saw her eyes were wide in recognition and disbelief. "Th-there's..."
"...Neria?" The woman had a similar facial reaction. "Is that really-"
For Runael, it was distraction enough. The woman's guard was completely down, and with some luck, Runael could plunge the blade into the woman's heart. She squeezed the hilt of the ghostly sword and charged at the woman. She ignored Neria's protest, focused only on the woman who was responsible for much of Skyrim's recent problems.
Thus, when the woman's eyes snapped to the Altmer, they narrowed. In one second, her hand was up at the hilt of her greatsword; another moment later, the larger blade was swinging at Runael, though the flat of the sword as aimed for her. The mer moved to duck the blade, but grunted in pain anyway; the woman had altered the path of the swing so as to strike her despite the attempt to dodge. The force of the blow sent her staggering toward the pool of energy, as well, but she caught her footing before she reached it. A quick glance behind her showed her just how close she was to the pool; she still had some comfortable distance from it.
When she faced forward once more, it was to see the woman charging at her, greatsword behind her and lowered somewhat. Runael recognized the woman was preparing a powerful strike of some sort, but she couldn't tell exactly what would happen. She lifted the spectral blade so as to offer some sort of protection from the greatsword. She realized her folly, however, when the woman planted her foot on the ground, pivoted her lower body, then swung, with upper body strength and all the might she could muster from her arms, at Runael.
The mer instantly recognized that the strike was far too powerful to simply block, and that she'd be wide open if she was foolish enough to try. Instead, she took a quick step back to avoid the tip of the blade, then readied her own blade for a quick thrust. The woman, though, had packed so much force behind her own swing that she was already spinning on the balls of her feet; even worse, she planted her other foot much closer to Runael.
The flat of the greatsword striking Runael in the side knocked the wind out of her and sent her flying off her feet. As she soared through the air, she became aware of the pool of energy glowing beneath her. She also became acutely aware of her relative position to the pool - and her rapid descent.
She realized, belatedly, that the Augur of Dunlain had actually been quite direct for a change. He had told her that she - Runael, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold - would never speak with him again.
Her death was the only guarantee of that. As she felt the pool of energy envelop her and cause unspeakable agony to course over her body, she knew that once again, the Augur of Dunlain had been right... that he was always right.
A.N. - ...Okay, so I pulled a 'Vile'. Shoot me.
Runael dying was something I considered at about... what was it, Chapter 3? One day, I was just walking down the sidewalk, and as I was thinking 'what twist can I toss into Eventide?', the first thing that came to mind was 'what if Mia dies?' I dismissed that because she's pretty important and - let's face it - I love Mia's character. Can't kill her off (yet). 'How about Elsera?' No, too obvious. Introducing a new character, just to be death fodder? Poor taste, even for me. 'What about Runael?' ...Runael...Runael... holyfuckthatjustmightwork! I initially had the idea of her dying in some explosion, triggered by some Dwemer bomb in the Dwemer ruin, buuut decided that was a bit... well, much. The 'pool of raw magicka' idea came about as I thought 'what could possibly be in Labyrinthian that they discover?'. I was initially going for the ghostly weapons, the ghostly draugr... that sort of thing. You know, a 'point of origin' there. How do they come about? Why don't we send Runael in to investigate? She's Arch-Mage, she should know the most about- ohshitshejustgotkilledbysomethingRUNFORYOURLIFE!
So this was the route I took instead. It was a touch more dramatic, and unlike the 'ghost production thing', the raw magicka pool will have significance later in the story.
It's been so long since I last wrote Hermaeus Mora, I feel like I wrote him wrong. It reads kind of right, though... so I don't know. Let me know what you think of a Herma-Mora with no official lines to serve as guidance.
-Spiritslayer
