White flakes swirled around me as I passed through Winterhold, heading for the Mage's College. I couldn't even call Winterhold a city; it was small and shabby, clearly having seen better days. The College, on the other hand, appeared to be in better shape. I saw the square stone towers clearly even at a distance. The entire structure perched on top of a rather narrow pillar of rock, however. That alone made me nervous.

Connecting Winterhold to the college was a long stone bridge that I saw had several twists and bends. Standing at the very beginning, between the bridge and me, was an Altmer. She held up a hand for me to stop.

"Cross the bridge at your own peril," the womer told me. "The way is dangerous and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry."

I glanced around. Not only was it snowing, there was also a biting wind. Yet there that mer stood. It looked like she'd been there for a while, too.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

"I am here to assist those seeking the wisdom of the College. And if, in the process, my presence helps deter those who might seek to do harm, so bet it. The more important question is: why are you here?"

"I need to get in. I'm looking for information on the Elder Scrolls."

"Are you?" She cocked one angular brow. "It is true there are some here who have spent years studying the accumulated knowledge of the Scrolls. But what you seek does not come easily, and can destroy those without a strong will. It would seem that the College has what you seek. The question now is what you can offer the College. Not just anyone is allowed inside."

"Would you let the Dragonborn in?"

Both eyebrows lifted in surprise at that. "Dragonborn? It's been so long since we've had any contact with the Greybeards. Do you really have the Voice? I would be most impressed to see that."

"Fine."

I turned aside so that I didn't accidentally hit her. Then I Shouted a stream of fire into the air, just like Paarthurnax taught me.

"So the stories are true. You are Dragonborn. Normally you'd need to show some aptitude with one of the schools of magic, but you… I think there is much that we can learn from each other."

"Fantastic," I said flatly. "Can I go in now?"

"Yes. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once you're inside you'll want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Please, follow me."

When she beckoned, I followed her onto the bridge. She snapped her fingers and purple light flared to life in a brazier set on the bridge. The wind around us instantly died. She led me up to the College's gate, which opened at her approach. She stopped and gestured to it.

"Go on in," she said.

I did, passing through the gateway and across the courtyard beyond. At the center was a larger-than-life statue of a mage who was carved as if his cloak was caught in a strong wind. Behind it, a Breton woman in mage robes was gesturing agitatedly to an Altmer wearing what I recognized as the Thalmor uniform.

"I believe I've made myself rather clear," she told him firmly.

He sneered. "I'm simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision."

"You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but I'm afraid you'll find the Thalmor receive no such treatment here. You are a guest of the College, here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage. I hope you appreciate the opportunity."

"Yes, of course. The Arch-Mage has my thanks."

"Very good. Then we're done here."

At that moment, the mer's yellow eyes caught on me. I saw them narrow and I glared right back at him. Scoffing, he turned away.

The woman focused her attention on me. "I don't believe I've seen you around here before. What do you want?"

"Are you Mirabelle Ervine? I was told to speak to you."

"I am. What do you need?"

"I'm looking for information on the Elder Scrolls."

"Ah, yes. You'll want to speak to Urag gro-Shub in the Arcanaeum. Follow me."

She led me through the main set of doors into the College proper. Turning to the right, she indicated a one of the doors and said, "It's just through here and up the stairs. I hope you find what you're looking for."

After giving her my thanks, I pulled the door open and climbed the set of stairs beyond.

At the top was a large round room. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the outer walls and several inner rings. Some others sat at tables placed here and there poring over tomes. As I glanced around, I realized with a pang just how much Martin would have loved it in there.

At the far side of the room, an orc sat behind a desk. As I approached he looked up from the book he was examining to glower at me.

"You are now in the Arcanaeum," he said, "of which I am in charge. It might as well be my own little plane of Oblivion. Disrupt my Arcanaeum, and I will have you torn apart by angry atronachs. Now, do you require assistance?"

"Yes. I'm looking for an Elder Scroll."

"And what do you plan to do with it? Do you even know what you're asking about, or are you just someone's errand girl?"

I fought the urge to laugh. That had been me far too often in the past.

"Of course I do. Do you have one here?"

He snorted. "You think that even if I did have one here, I would let you see it? It would be kept under the highest security. The greatest thief in the world wouldn't be able to lay a finger on it."

"What if the Dragonborn was asking?" I asked, crossing my arms.

His black eyes narrowed. "What about… Wait. Are you? Were you the one the Greybeards were calling?"

"It's how I got in here," I told him.

"I'll bring you everything we have on the Scrolls, but it's not much." Setting the book down, he got up, grumbling, and shuffled over to the shelves. He returned a moment later and deposited two books on the desk. "Here you go. Try not to spill anything on them."

I flipped the first one open. All it did was discuss the effects that the Elder Scrolls had on the people who read them, in both body and mind. Not much help. The second, however…

Imagine living beneath the waves with a strong-sighted blessing of most excellent fabric. Holding the fabric over your gills, you would begin to breathe-drink its warp and weft. Though the plantmatter fibers imbue your soul, the wretched plankton would pollute the cloth until it stank to heavens of prophecy. This is one manner in which the Scrolls first came to pass, but are we the sea, or the breather, or the fabric? Or are we the breath itself?

Can we flow through the Scrolls as knowledge flows through, being the water, or are we the stuck morass of sea-filth that gathers on the edge?

"This "Ruminations" book is gibberish," I said, frowning down at the words in confusion. What was any of that supposed to even mean?

Urag glanced over and nodded, chuckling. "Aye, that's the work of Septimus Signus. He's the world's master of the nature of Elder Scrolls, but… well. He's been gone for a long while. Too long."

"He's dead?"

"Oh, no. I hope not. But even I haven't seen him in years, and we were close. Became obsessed with the Dwemer. Took off north saying he had found some old artifact. Haven't seen him since. He's somewhere in the ice fields, if you want to try to find him."

It didn't look like I had much choice.


I finally found what I was looking for north of the College. I pulled my boat up onto the ice beside another. The thick layer of frost on it told me it had been there for a while. In the side of the glacier, someone had set a wooden hatch into the ice. I pulled it open and climbed into the tunnel beyond.

The passage led out into a cavern at the glacier's heart. Below was a massive box as big as a small house. It looked Dwemer in origin. Beside it someone had set up a small campsite. I saw a man dressed in hooded robes flipping feverishly through a book and muttering to himself.

"Dig, Dwemer, in the beyond. I'll know your lost unknown and rise to your depths…"

"Hello?" I called down.

He started violently and looked up from his book as I descended to the floor of the chamber.

"You're Septimus Signus, I presume. I heard you know about the Elder Scrolls."

"Elder Scrolls. Indeed," he said, nodding. "The Empire. They absconded with them. Or so they think. The ones they saw. The ones they thought they saw. I know of one. Forgotten. Sequestered. But I cannot go to it, not poor Septimus, for I… I have arisen beyond its grasp."

"Are you… all right?" I asked him.

"Oh, I am well. Well to be within the will inside the walls."

He was nearly as senseless as his book.

"So, where's the Elder Scroll?"

"Here." When I looked around, frowning, he added, "Well, here as in this plane. Mundus. Tamriel. Nearby, relatively speaking. On the cosmological scale, it's all nearby."

I groaned. "Can you help me get the Elder Scroll or not?"

"One block lifts the other. Septimus will give what you want, but you must bring him something in return."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. What do you want?"

"You see this masterwork of the Dwemer," he said, indicating the box. "Deep inside their greatest knowings. Septimus is clever among men, but he is but an idiot child compared to the dullest of the Dwemer. Lucky then they left behind their own way of reading the Elder Scrolls. In the depths of Blackreach one yet lies. Have you heard of Blackreach? "Cast upon where Dwemer cities slept, the yearning spire hidden learnings kept."" He laughed to himself.

"Where is this… Blackreach?"

"Under Deep. Below the dark. The hidden keep. Tower Mzark. Alftand. The point of puncture, of first entry, of the tapping. Delve to its limits, and Blackreach lies just beyond. But not all can enter there. Only Septimus knows the hidden key to loose the lock to jump beneath the deathly rock."

"So how do I get in?"

"Two things I have for you. Two shapes. One edged, one round." He rummaged around in a bag nearby and pulled out a small orb and a cube. Handing them both to me, he went on, "The round one, for tuning. Dwemer music is soft and subtle, and needed to open their cleverest gates. The deepest doors of Dwemer listen for singing. It plays the attitude of notes proper for opening. The edged lexicon, for inscribing. To glimpse the world inside an Elder Scroll can damage the eyes. Or the mind, as it has to Septimus. The Dwemer found a loophole, as they always do. To focus the knowledge away and inside without harm. Place the lexicon into their contraption and focus the knowings into it. When it brims with glow, bring it back and Septimus can read once more."

So the orb was some kind of key and the cube was what he wanted in return, etched with the information on the Elder Scroll. Easy enough.

"What do you want with the Elder Scroll, exactly?"

"Ooh, an observant one. How clever to ask of Septimus." He indicated the giant box again. "This Dwemer lockbox. Look upon it and wonder. Inside is the heart. The heart of a god! The heart of you. And me. But it was hidden away. Not by the dwarves, you see. They were already gone. Someone else. Unseen. Unknown. Found the heart, and with a flair for the ironical, used Dwarven trickery to lock it away. The Scroll will give the deep vision needed to open it. For not even the strongest machinations of the Dwemer can hold off the all-sight given by an Elder Scroll."

Right. Interesting.

Turning, I climbed back up toward the entrance.


There was a ruined camp at Alftand when I arrived. It looked like a blizzard had blown through, knocking over tents and the better part of the wooden buildings set up nearby. I saw several frozen bodies half-buried in the snow. Below, a bridge led down into the icy caverns. I followed the barely lit passages, listening to the wind howl through. In the distance I heard a faint voice.

"Where is it? I know you were trying to keep it for yourself, J'zhar… you always try to keep it for yourself! No! There's got to be more skooma! Shut up! Shut up! Don't lie to me, J'zhar! You hid it! You always try to steal it from me!"

I cautiously inched along, hoping to avoid the speaker.

The rough tunnels soon changed into ones that I recognized as Dwemer in origin. I hadn't been inside a Dwemer ruin in years, not since Vvardenfell. I didn't have good memories of them, but at least I knew what to expect.

Sure enough, the deeper I went into the ruins the louder the whirs and clanks of the machinery became. I avoided the slick oil spills that covered the floor in many places and skirted around the live Dwemer automatons.

As I walked down one of the quieter tunnels with no machines in sight, I Shouted some fire over my hand. It caught on my fingers, licking over them, but they didn't burn. It felt pleasantly warm, in fact, compared to the icy ruins. Frowning, I focused on the feeling and tried to mimic it in my other hand. It instantly burst into flames. I stared at them in awe before remembering my nightmare, how my hands had been full of fire just like they were then. The flames instantly died and I clenched my fists.

I would not be that person. I wouldn't.

At the end of the halls was a tube-shaped cavern that descended deep into the earth. I glanced down over the edge. Below was a spiral of bridges leading down to the very bottom. Just a little way down from the platform I stood on was a corpse. She looked like she'd fallen from where I stood now. I grimaced.

Carefully, I climbed down some exposed Dwemer piping to where the body lay. As I got closer, I realized that she hadn't just fallen. Several crude arrows stuck out of her chest and stomach. I crouched low and drew my bow. There was someone else down there.

I cautiously inched down the bridges, searching for any other sign of life. As I rounded a bend, I froze and held my breath.

A skulking, hunched figure blocked the path ahead. Its skin was sickly pale and it had pointed ears like a mer. In one of its boney hands it held a roughly hewn bow. It turned its head and I saw that it had only sunken sockets where its eyes should have been. Shriveled nostrils twitched as it sniffed the air.

I drew back an arrow as quietly as I could. The creature's head snapped around and it bared sharp, yellow fangs at me. A moment later it fell to the ground, twitching, my arrow lodged in its neck.

I finally allowed myself to take a shaky breath. Gods, what was that thing?


I found more of the creatures as I descended further into the ruins, along with piles of bloody, gnawed bones that looked suspiciously human. Just the thought of it made me sick.

At the very bottom was a chamber with a set of stairs leading up to a Dwemer gate. I climbed them, cautiously looking around. The bodies of two massive Dwemer constructs lay broken nearby. One of them was still letting off some faint steam. I hurried past, not wanting to linger just in case it decided to wake.

At the top, past the gate, was a small room. Two bodies lay on the floor near the back. One was a woman wearing fancy steel armor and carrying a spike-covered shield. The other was a man in Legion armor. The blood that coated their weapons and her shield was still fairly fresh. I turned my attention away from them and focused on the mechanism in the middle of the room.

It was constructed from stone and metal, set with a device made of concentric metal rings. On one side was a small hollow the same size as the orb Septimus gave me. I placed it inside.

Sure enough the device began to whir and spin. Around me, the floor sank down into a set of stairs leading below. I followed them down and went through the door at the bottom.

There was no doubt that what I had just stepped into was what Septimus called the "Blackreach". It was an impossibly large cavern whose ceiling was so high above me that I could barely make it out. Everything was lit an eerie blue color from the massive luminescent mushrooms and the sparkling crystals that lined the walls and ground. All across the cavern, I saw ancient Dwemer buildings scattered here and there.

Septimus had said I was looking for a tower. Squinting, I thought I saw one in the distance. Whether it was the right one or not, I couldn't be sure. But I had to check.

I followed the underground rivers that cut through Blackreach, the water having an almost milky quality to it. As I walked I was careful of the things I was sure were lurking in the shadows. Dwemer constructs or those… things. I didn't want to think of what they'd do to me if they actually managed to catch me.

A bridge led across the water to the tower itself, which stretched up into the cavern's ceiling. Pushing the door open, I found a small chamber inside. At the center was a lever. I pushed it down and the gears in the walls of the chamber rumbled to life, lifting the floor of the room up.

I stepped off the lift at the top and passed through a short hallway. On the other side was a circular room mostly taken up by a massive Dwemer machine. I followed a ramp along the wall up to its top. There a set of strange glass lenses hung from the ceiling. A platform at the very back held a panel with a set of buttons. Along one side was a short pillar with a kind of rest at the top. The lexicon fit in perfectly.

The instant I put it in, the covers over some of the buttons flipped open. Cautiously, I pressed one of them. The top of the device below spun and clicked into place. I pressed it a few more times, and another of the buttons opened. When I pressed that one, the lenses swung down, forming a beam of light that led straight onto the device below. A final button, farthest on the left, opened. I pushed it.

The lenses swung back and a glass-covered capsule lowered. It opened with a loud hiss, revealing what looked like a scroll inside, wound up on several bars. I grabbed the lexicon, which was now covered in glowing blue designs, and hurried down.

The Elder Scroll was attached to a gilded case, which I used to roll it back up once I'd carefully unhooked it from the machine. I made sure not to look directly at the writings on the Scroll itself. I faintly remembered what it could do if I wasn't careful, and I didn't want to risk it until I had to.

Now it was just a matter of getting back out again.