Chapter 6
Saarthal's excavation site lay a half hour's walk away South-West of Winterhold, but Tolfdir and the students were caught off guard by a sudden snow-storm. Because of the Nordic blood running through their veins, Tolfdir and Onmund weren't as bothered by the cold, but the elves huddled together as they braved the knee-deep snow. The cold, fierce wind from the sea pierced through their thick layer of clothes, making their teeth chattered and bodies shiver. Cirilonde hoped they wouldn't get lost in this blurry haze of white that fell from the sky and she stuck close to the others in an attempt to keep somewhat warm.
They were all so glad and relieved when they finally arrived at the excavation site. She was somewhat disappointed though, expecting something grand and imposing like Bleak Falls Barrow. Instead, Saarthal seemed small and insignificant. Then again, it was still half-buried under meters of snow and ice and Tolfdir had told them of this place's importance. It didn't alleviate any of her concerns for potential danger either, knowing all too well that such seemingly small tombs and ruins were the perfect hideaway for goblins, ghouls, vampires and necromancers.
The excavation site was half the size of a field, dug from the ice and snow. Walkways had been constructed and tents had been set up to make access and research easier. As eager as they were to be out of the weather, they all carefully descended the rickety and slippery, wooden steps to the carved and heavy doors that led into the ruins.
Everyone shook the snow out of their hair and off their shoulders once they were inside. The students huddled close to one another and the lit brazier to get warm, thankful for the shelter from the weather.
This climate will definitely will take some time getting used too. Cirilonde's cheeks held a rosy glow and both her cheeks and hands stung from the cold. Looking around, she blew her hot breath into the palms of her gloved hands in an attempt to warm herself. Like Bleak Falls Barrow, Saarthal was carved from the stone and ice, though not as spacious. From what she dared guess, Saarthal's interior would no doubt be more expansive the further they'd head in. Perhaps the grand main entrance had yet to be uncovered.
"And here we are." Tolfdir whisked the snow out of his hair and beard. His nose and ears were bright red. "Now, you no doubt wonder what relevance this place has to do with what was discussed in yesterday's lesson, but the very interesting thing about this tomb, is how the magical seals have been preserved and seem functional even after all this time. It's rather unlike anything we've encountered."
"So while we are here, I need you to stay close to me." Seeing the worried looks on some of the students' faces he smiled, "There's no need to be scared as we should be safe, but I'd rather we all be cautious in spite of that. We have no idea as to what residual energies linger."
With that, Tolfdir turned and led them down the tunnel into the ruins and while the students stuck close to the old Nord, they kept enough distance to talk amongst themselves in hushed tones.
"What is that stench?" J'Zargo covered his muzzle with his scarf. Onmund pulled a face when the scent greeted him and he and Brelyna both covered their mouth and nose with their scarves. While Cirilonde did the same, she was more familiar with the scent than she liked to admit to anyone.
This is a tomb all right…she thought. The scent was indescribable and odd if one wasn't familiar with the source, but Cirilonde could tell them apart. Embalming fluids, the stench of treated, linen wraps to mummify the corpses, mould and fungus that had formed over the decades in a place sealed shut for countless ages. Until now and was exposed to fresh, cold air. It wasn't the type of stench to churn one's stomach but it certainly could make one queasy or lose one's appetite. Not to mention the stench it left in one's attire and hair.
But this wasn't what bothered Cirilonde and had all her senses peak to an alarm, even if but for the fraction of a second, but she was sure…She dismissed the chill that had shot through her and chastised herself for letting her imagination get the better of her.
She accompanied the magi deeper into the Ayleid ruin somewhere to the north of Chorrol and what was to be a simple exploration, ended up in a vampire hunt that had nearly cost them their heads.
She shook her head. Stop it! But even now she'd warmed up, there was this feint, subtle and chilling energy that lingered. It reminded her of the strange wall in Bleak Falls Barrow but it was…different and very unsettling.
Rather than a torch, Tolfdir had conjured two, blue luminescent globes that lit their way, casting eerie shadows whenever he manipulated them to show certain carvings on the walls. Now that some of the nerves had gone, the students moved more comfortably and looked around, listening to what the old Nord had to tell them. "As some of you may know, Saarthal was one of the earliest Nord settlements in Skyrim. It was also the largest."
With an incantation and the flick of his hands, Tolfdir sent both the orbs flying and they grew in size, illuminating what remained of the great hall. They stood on one of the many make-shift walkways, indicating that this perhaps had been a plaza of some sorts which would lead to various parts of Saarthal but most of it had collapsed or had to be excavated yet.
"-,not much is known about what happened to Saarthal, which makes this an exciting opportunity for us. To be able to study such an early civilization, and the magics they used."
Realizing now that he was delving into a place related to his ancestry, Onmund's fear was replaced by fascination and he dared to have a closer look at the carvings on the wall and statues. Tolfdir smiled, glad to see his students were getting excited now and continued to tell them about the progress of the excavation. Listening herself as well, Cirilonde couldn't help but notice the alcoves in the wall that were clearly meant to hold caskets, yet held none. Had they been removed? And then there were these depictions on the wall carved from the stone. Masked men in robes were depicted as saints of some kind, surrounded by rays of light and dragons backed away from the waves of power that didn't come from their hands, but their mouths. Smaller humans were depicted as grovelling and submissive to these robed and masked men, fearing the dragons that burnt them alive and in some, the humans brought them offerings. The High Elf furrowed her brow and she couldn't help but wonder…She began to sketch in her notebook.
"So, what is it exactly that you'd like us to do here, Master Tolfdir?" Brelyna asked.
"That's a very good question, Miss Maryon," Tolfdir smiled. "You've signed up for an extraordinary and rare chance to be the first to study-,"
"Ah, Master Tolfdir! I was wondering whether or not you'd make it." All heads turned up to the doorway where Nirya stood leaning over the railing.
"By Azura, not her…" Brelyna groaned under her breath.
"Shhh!" Cirilonde hissed but her lips had curled into a playful grin. "Before it hears us."
"I just hope we don't end up stuck with it." Brelyna whispered in response. "But if we do, do not ever mention Faralda or she'll go off a tangent about how 'whatever she's told you, it's all lies'." Cirilonde raised a questioning brow. In response, Brelyna whistled in a low tone and twirled her finger in a circle near her temple.
"-no problem at all then, Nirya. I'll send them your way." Tolfdir said to Nirya, who then disappeared from the alcove. The old Nord then turned to the small group of new students with a smile. "All right, while J'Zargo, Onmund and I conduct our research on the registered findings of which we've already determined the nature. As for the both of you, Nirya shall be along shortly to retrieve you so you can assist Arniel with their recent finds."
Cirilonde elbowed Brelyna when she groaned in exasperation, recovering quickly by pretending to clear her throat. "Dusty," she apologized to the old Nord who'd raised a confused brow as to what was up with the Dark Elf.
"But that's hardly fair, Master Tolfdir!" J'Zargo whined. "J'Zargo wishes to be the first to explore these ruins. He is more capable and strong. Right, Onmund?"
Onmund exhaled sharply when the Khajiit nudged him a bit too sharply with his elbow. Though he was more than eager now to learn more about his ancestors up close, he still preferred to play it safe lest one of his ancestors decided to haunt him because he broke a plate. "I'm sure we'll be taking turns, right, Master Tolfdir?"
The old Nord nodded to confirm and then turned to the two elves who quickly took on a casual attitude as they had been pulling faces at Onmund and J'Zargo. Now that Tolfdir had turned his back to them, it was Onmund and J'Zargo's turn to pull faces. "If you head up this rampart and follow the lit torches, you should be able to meet Nirya half-way. She is assisting Arniel with the cataloguing of the recent finds and I'm sure he'd be happy to have you assist him in any way you can."
"We'll be on our way then!" Cirilonde pulled a reluctant Brelyna along. Once out of earshot of the others, she turned to the Dark Elf, who still didn't look all too happy, "Come on, it can't be that bad. Ancano is not here and I'm sure Nirya's far too busy studying her own complexion in whatever she can find to yap our ears off."
"I don't even get what she's doing here to begin with." Brelyna whispered in response. "Azura forbid the girl gets her hands dirty. But I suppose you're right, that damn Thalmor isn't here for her to bat her lashes at."
Cirilonde and Brelyna both looked at each other, clearly thinking the same as the most ridiculous image crossed their minds and they burst out in laughter. They could just envision Nirya blowing kisses at Ancano whose face would still bear the same scowl.
"Care to share what happens to be so funny?"
Cirilonde and Brelyna both froze in their steps as Nirya had rounded the corner unexpectedly and the two exchanged worried glances as to whether or not the other High Elf had heard them or not. "Just an inside joke, you wouldn't get it," Brelyna said quickly.
"Right. Novices amongst each other after all, right?" Nirya's smile and tone of voice was condescending nevertheless. "Follow me," Nirya said with a sigh. "The sooner you get to work the sooner I can return to the College."
"Is there anything particular you would have need us do?" Cirilonde asked.
"Well, I've been working on packaging all our finds to return it to the College for further study." Nirya replied. "It all depends on what Arniel wants."
The three elves crossed a rickety, make-shift walk-way that led to a newly excavated wing of the ancient settlement. Here, they found Arniel Gane in a small antechamber. Arniel was a thin, balding and middle-aged man clad in dusty, brown robes with a green sash. He had been so immersed in his work, Nirya had to clear her throat to get his attention.
"They're here," she said, not veiling her annoyance with the Breton for whatever reason. "Cirilonde and Brelyna. Meet Arniel Gane, one of our scholars."
Arniel politely shook hands with the both of them but didn't make direct eye-contact. He seemed rather skittish and uncomfortable around people in general. "Good. Good. I made further notes on the recent finds here…" he caught a goblet he almost, accidentally sent toppling off one of the large, ancient tables where a variety of ancient tomes, tools and what else lay laid out. Small pieces of parchments with scribblings were placed on or underneath them; theories as to what the items could have been and what purpose they may have served.
"Could you at least put in more effort to make it coherent, however?" Nirya tore out the page from a ledger Arniel had been reading in. "I'd like to occupy myself with packing things, rather than translate and transcribe your terrible handwriting."
"I…I will," Arniel apologized but his eyes lit up with relief when Tolfdir came walking towards them. "Master Tolfdir!" he called out and waved. "So good to see you."
This time, it wasn't just Cirilonde who noticed. Brelyna glanced at Cirilonde when Nirya briefly narrowed her eyes in Tolfdir's direction. "You may want to hurry, Nirya dear, if you want to make it back to the College before the end of the day. There's still plenty of items for you to pack."
"But of course, Master Tolfdir," Nirya smiled at the Nord through clenched teeth but returned to her assigned tasks without another word, disappearing into another room.
"It is good to see you as well, Arniel," the old Nord smiled knowingly and quite self-satisfied. "I see you have made quite some progress."
"Just the weather that's not cooperating." Arniel was far more relaxed in Tolfdir's presence and Nirya's absence. "I was about to ask what you would want these dames to do while they are here. They could help me, if they like, as I've quite the job ahead of me cataloguing items. But I think it might be very educational for them to have a gander at the newly excavated wing we secured."
"We would love to delve into the newly excavated wing, if you don't mind, Master Arniel." Cirilonde wasn't aware of this herself, but her smile held a charm that could win many a man over. "I'm sure Master Tolfdir and you have a lot of scholarly things to catch up on."
Brelyna shot her a look as if saying, 'right, like they'll let us.'
"Very good. It's glad to see such eagerness to learn," Tolfdir smiled. "It's down that hallway, right, Arniel?"
"Yes, it is. We'll be along shortly. Just have a gander and take some notes." Arniel agreed and the two elves made their way there as fast as they could before the men changed their minds.
When Tolfdir was certain the two elves were out of earshot, he turned to Arniel. "I need you to be careful as to what you register. Ancano's been inquiring…"
Cirilonde and Brelyna headed down the hallway that led to this new wing but took their time to take it all in. Though Cirilonde had been in Bleak Falls Barrow, she hadn't had the time to study things like she and Brelyna could now. Wooden beams supported the walls and ceiling and the two elves were fascinated by the ancient writings and depictions on the dust-covered, ancient walls.
"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Brelyna whispered after a while once certain they were alone. "You and Ganir seem close. I heard he had a run in with Ancano in the Arcaneum."
Word sure does spread fast around here, doesn't it? "He did, but Urag helped him get away." Cirilonde replied, looking at the sketch she'd made of one of the carvings. Ganir might be interested to see this…
"Yeah, Urag's a bit scary, but he doesn't seem all that bad as long as you respect him and his books," Brelyna mused while taking notes. "Has Ancano gotten a hold of you yet? Because I've been avoiding him at all cost."
"Likewise. I've been avoiding him like the plague." Everything about Ancano, from the way he talked, looked at people and carried himself. It all reminded her all too much… "Eventually, he will question us. Don't underestimate him."
"I don't have anything to hide but I don't get how it's any of that fetcher's business to begin with!" The Dark Elf's temper flared and her ears rang with an odd, white noise that enhanced the sound of her quill scratching the paper where she frantically began to scribble. "Not exactly a way to 'promote relations with the College', if you ask me. He really creeps me out and I don't get why the Arch-Mage would permit that bat to intimidate his students like this. I've contemplated talking to Mirabelle about it, but, I don't know…" Startled, the Dark Elf dropped her quill and she looked around when no response came from Cirilonde. "What are you-?! Ciri?" Turning around, Brelyna caught a glimpse of the High Elf rounding the corner down another tunnel to another room. "Ciri?!"
Brelyna's mind reeled to comprehend what was happening. How had she not noticed that Cirilonde had dropped her sketchbook when something took a hold of them both? *1 But the Dark Elf wouldn't let herself be scared. Most likely, some ghost was toying with them and she knew how to handle this, so she gave chase after Cirilonde from a safe distance.
Cirilonde however, found that try as she might, could not think straight. This entity that had taken a hold of her without warning, left no space for her to struggle, yet she was aware of everything it made her do. Vaguely, she could remember how one moment, she was sketching, listening to Brelyna's rant when this cold struck her in the back out of nowhere. It left her stunned for a moment and it slowly drew her away. Her lips had parted to scream but no sound had come while Brelyna tore away at the paper with her quill.
I should've…A sharp pang surged through her brain whenever she tried to think. Listened…to myself…
The entity's beckons had been a whisper on the water at first. Its caress the shiver down her spine from the moment she'd set foot in Saarthal and it now guided her through the dark, eerie hallways of the newly excavated wing.
Thankfully, Brelyna was in close pursuit of the enthralled High Elf but stayed a safe distance as she wasn't quite sure of what to do. Whatever had a hold on Cirilonde, was definitely no ordinary ghost or wraith. If she were to attract its attention like she had initially planned, Azura knew what would happen.
The dusty hallway led down to two passages of which only the one to the left was accessible. The other passage was barred from entry by an ancient, steel gateway. There was an odd, teal haze over the entranced, High Elf's eyes who was reeled into the room to the left by unseen tendrils. Though no voice was heard, Cirilonde felt something call out her name and she was guided to an alcove where an amulet was hung from ornate, stone hooks. The amulet itself was carved from ancient bone and fangs, bound by a leather, worn cord and it held an eerie glow that was barely visible to the untrained eye.
Normally, Cirilonde's logic would've dictated for her to keep her hands away from this amulet and get out of this place. Or at the very least, wonder how none of this had happened to anyone else, or noticed a lone amulet dangling here. Her mind cried out to escape and resist and she willed her body to do so, but this force was too strong for her and her hands reached towards the amulet and her slender fingers lift the amulet from its resting place.
The moment the amulet was removed, an ancient mechanism sprung to life. Cirilonde shrieked and made a startled jump as this 'hold' was released on her and at the same time, sharp, jagged steel spikes shot up from the crevices in the doorway she'd come through, trapping her within. Amulet in one hand, she bolted towards the doorway and grabbed a firm hold of the bars, shaking them in the hopes of breaking free. No, no…No!
Thankfully for her, Brelyna had not abandoned her and Cirilonde had never been more relieved to see someone. "Brelyna!" she grabbed hold of the Dark Elf's hands through the bars. "I'm so glad to see you! I don't know-,"
"I know, I saw." Brelyna assured her and they both tried to shake the bars and pull or push them out of the way. Again, to no avail. "Are you all right? One moment you were here and suddenly…"
"I don't know! I…I'm fine, I think…Are you?" Cirilonde's mind reeled to grasp what had just happened.
"I'm fine too…I think." Brelyna was still afraid and worried, especially when the High Elf glanced over her shoulder. Cirilonde could no longer sense this presence but she felt as if it was watching her somehow.
"Look, you need to get Master Tolfdir and see if he can get me out of here, quick!"
"But I can't leave you…"
"Well, it's not like I'm about to go anywhere, right?" She wished she didn't sound so irritable, but Cirilonde now dared admit she was actually afraid and it felt as if her brain was being cooked. "Please, just go get him!"
Brelyna was reluctant to leave her friend alone but went to retrieve the old Nord.
Though the headache had subsided some, Cirilonde was still eager to escape and conquering her initial fear, she tried to hang the amulet back in the hope it would free her. But nothing happened. She then studied the amulet and sought the room for some kind of crevice it would fit in, or some hidden lever, but she could find nothing. It didn't take long for Brelyna to return with Tolfdir.
Cirilonde expected Tolfdir to chastise her but the old Nord did no such thing. He remained calm and gauged the situation, running his wrinkled hand over the bars and shook them as well. "Sturdy all right." He commented before turning his attention to the distraught High Elf. "Are you all right, child?"
"I am." Cirilonde grumbled. She had to be at least fifty years older than he, but here he was calling her child. Knowing him, he meant no offence, but she felt so stupid. "I just can't believe this happened to me of all things." Embarrassed she held up the amulet. "I shouldn't have removed this."
"It happens to the best of us," Tolfdir assured her. He'd have to ask questions later. Though most mistook him for a senile, old fool, he very well knew that in this scenario, it was very unlikely that Cirilonde had just happened to wander and stumble across an amulet. "Now let's get you out of here. Have you tried putting the amulet back in place?"
"I have. Nothing happened," she replied, defeated.
Tolfdir thoughtfully stroked his beard. "Have you tried putting it on?"
"I...don't think that's wise." Cirilonde bit her bottom lip as she looked from the amulet in her hands to Tolfdir.
"I'm sure you'll be fine. Just stay close. If anything happens, we're here." He assured her.
I don't like any of this…Cirilonde thought but she stepped close to the gate that should anything happen, Tolfdir and Brelyna could grab a hold of her and remove the amulet. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she put the necklace on, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was about to burst into flames or get cursed some way…but nothing happened. Not at first.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood upright, a nausea overwhelmed her along with the chill that surged down her spine when this presence returned. All her senses peaked to an alarm and Cirilonde wondered if the amulet had anything to do with it…and if it perhaps was a smart idea to remove it. She then noticed the strange pulse that emanated from the wall where she removed the amulet. Furrowing her brow, she approached it, ignoring Brelyna's worried whimper.
Cirilonde swallowed and reached for the alcove, unsure if she was about to be hurt or not and a little shriek escaped her when the stone began to melt in a very strange way. There never was a wall? The High Elf frowned, confused and didn't lower her guard even when the presence withdrew into the tunnel behind the wall. When the spikes that had trapped her withdrew back into the ground, she turned, so glad to have been freed. Tolfdir and Brelyna rushed over to her.
"Are you okay?" Brelyna asked.
Cirilonde nodded. She'd had enough and angrily ripped the cord from her neck. Tolfdir grabbed her wrist before she could throw it away. "No need to be scared of the unknown." The old Nord took the amulet from her and studied it. "This is certainly an unexpected but interesting development…thankfully without anyone getting hurt."
"Yet…" Brelyna added sceptically, peering into the tunnel as well.
There was no telling what was going on in the Nord's mind as he studied the amulet before looking at the tunnel entrance. "Miss Maryon," he finally said after a moment of thought. "Could you please inform Arniel that Lady Valanocke and I shall be exploring this tunnel further?"
"Of course, Master Tolfdir." Cirilonde wasn't sure whether Brelyna envied her or not because both the elves knew what had happened and it wasn't exactly a good sign. "Just be careful, all right?" With that, she turned and headed off to inform Arniel as instructed.
"Master Tolfdir, with all due respect, but, would it really be wise to take a novice such as myself along?" Cirilonde asked. Granted, she had been in Bleak Falls Barrow and she had helped clear at least a dozen tombs from ghouls or likewise hauntings but this was…different.
"Judging from the recommendations we received along with your application, I find it hard to believe this incident was the cause of a rookie mistake, Miss Valanocke." In spite of his friendly smile, Tolfdir's voice held a sharp tone now. "And as experience has taught us both, caution will be key as we proceed." *2
"So you figured it out," she mumbled, slightly embarrassed. There clearly was more to the eye than the old Nord would show. "But isn't that all the more disturbing? Has no one felt this presence at all?"
"Perhaps they have, perhaps not," Tolfdir replied. "It is fascinating how we rely on logic and reason where our intuition is perhaps the best guide to have in scenarios such as these. But no matter, what is done is done and I think you and Miss Maryon learned a valuable lesson…" Cirilonde felt the blood rise to her cheeks and she mumbled an apology and thank you. "That's quite all right, Miss Valanocke. Now, let's have a look, shall we?"
Cirilonde let the Nord lead the way down the tunnel that led to a small, circular room with two caskets. These stood upright in alcoves to the sides of the room with an altar in the middle where rotten, withered offerings were laid out. There was another door that would most likely lead them deeper into…well, whatever part of Saarthal this was. She couldn't see or tell as the dark and engraved, solid, stone door wouldn't budge.
"This is highly unusual but most interesting," Tolfdir muttered as his fingers traced the writings carved into the altar. "Why in the world would this…this place be sealed off? These walls…these engravings look like they date back to at least-,"
Cirilonde leaned forward on the altar when she grew light in her head and it took her a while before she realized Tolfdir wasn't just frozen in place…but in time. When she heard the rustle of robes behind her, she spun around with Ganir's dagger in hand. Her first suspicion was that it'd be a Draugr, or perhaps Brelyna, or another curious student, but this man was a complete stranger.
She wasn't even sure whether this High Elf was real or not because there was an odd haze over him as though she was looking at him from under water. It was hard to discern but he was clad in golden-yellow, ornate robes with elaborate patterns in red, black and white. His hood cast a shadow over most of his long, gaunt face and could see he had a goatee.
"Who are you and what have you done to Tolfdir?" She hoped she sounded tougher than she felt and she was thinking of what spells she could use against him if need be. This is definitely not a ghost…But just what is this?! "What do you want?" He's definitely not a ghost, but how…Time has…
"Please, I mean you no harm." The stranger raised both his hands. "I need you to listen closely as you have set in motion a chain of events that cannot be stopped. As you had no way of knowing, no judgement has been passed."
"What are you talking about? What events?" She didn't know anything about chronomancy, or that it was even possible, but it began to wear down on her already. It was like falling asleep on a carriage and then waking up to the nauseating hobble and rumble, not knowing what time it was or where you were. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, her hands shook and her stomach began to protest. "Talk. Explain yourself!"
"I have little to no time, Lady Valanocke. I bid for you to listen." The stranger's eyes nervously lingered on Cirilonde's dagger. She wanted to ask how he knew her name, but was afraid she might retch on the spot if she opened her mouth. "I had to freeze time for what little of it I have. There's grave danger ahead of you. The sole reason I am able to pass this warning to you, is because the Psijic Order believes you are the only one with the potential to prevent disaster. Take heed and know that the Order is watching."
"What are you-?" The monk disappeared like one's reflection would when a stone was thrown into the water. Cirilonde was overwhelmed with motion sickness when the flow of time returned and the intensity of this shift made her throw up. She leaned on the altar for support and swore.
Tolfdir gasped once he broke free of the time's hold and fell with his back against the nearby wall. He had grown paler than she'd thought possible for a Nord. "What…What in the world just happened? Are you all right?"
"I…I don't know. Maybe it was some hex?" Cirilonde wept her mouth clean. She didn't like lying to Tolfdir but she didn't want to sound or look crazy. Had this even been real? If it was, it definitely did not bode well for what was meant to be an innocent day of practical study.
The Psijic Order was an order of magi who had openly opposed the Thalmor and made their whole island of Artaeum disappear from the Summerset Isles, now Alinor where the Aldmeri Dominion reigned. And one of them had just appeared here, out of nowhere, freezing time in the process just to 'warn' her. But about who, how or what?
Seems like I've gotten into something way over my head…again. And there was no way she could convince Tolfdir and the others to leave either. Whatever was here, had to be big and it was too dangerous to just leave behind lest it fall into the wrong hands…but whose hands could possibly be right if the Psijic Order was involved?
Both the Nord and High Elf looked up when they heard the scraping of heavy stone and they saw how bony, rotten fingers pushed the lids of the caskets behind each of them to the side. When they met eyes, they were clearly thinking the same. Great, just what we needed!
Nauseous and disoriented as they were, Cirilonde nodded at him when he nudged his head to the Draugr to her right. It had barely emerged but Cirilonde took the hint as Tolfdir was to take on the other. Both the Draugr unsheathed their ancient sword and axe to strike but the two living dove out of the way. The weapons were slammed stuck into the altar.
This bought Cirilonde the time to paralyze the Draugr with a spell before she plunged Ganir's dagger into its forehead.
The other Draugr struggled to free his axe from the altar which bought Tolfdir the time to bury a magical ice lance into the Draugr's chest. It collapsed dead to the floor into a miserable heap.
"We make quite the team. Good work, Miss Valanocke." The colour was slowly returning to Tolfdir's face and the both of them took some deep breaths to regain their composure. Tolfdir looked up and furrowed his brow as he looked at the casket behind Cirilonde and then the one that was behind him. The High Elf followed his gaze and understood.
"What do you think, Miss Valanocke?" The old Nord looked so much younger with that sudden sparkle of excitement in his eyes. He looked at the High Elf and then the levers hidden in the back of both the caskets.
Whatever had just happened, whether it had been real or not, it was dangerous. And they had best delve deeper to find out what it was lest it fall into the wrong hands. And Tolfdir was with her. The old man was full of surprises. "Stay sharp, Master Tolfdir," she grinned at him with a nod.
"Ready when you are, Miss Valanocke." Tolfdir nodded at her with a wide smile. "We are about to discover something grand."
After making sure there were no traps that could catch them off guard, the two of them pulled the levers at the same time. Their hearts began to race with excitement when the solid stone doors opened with some racket.
They lit the torches, careful to proceed and still on alert for traps or Draugr but when the nasty surprise came at the end of the hallway. "Oh, Auri-El…"
They had emerged down the steps into a cistern. There was no impressive grandeur but the wall surrounding the small body of water in the middle was lined with a total of twelve caskets. There was a bridge that permitted one to cross the body of water and reach the two chains that dangled near the gate.
Anticipating that the caskets wouldn't open until the chains were pulled, the two of them carefully inched into the room. The both of them gave a jump and yelp when, without warning, the caskets' lids were sent flying across the room and the Draugr emerged. Tolfdir grabbed her by the wrist with the intent to flee the room with her but steel bars shot up from the crevices in the floor. They were trapped!
"Barrier!" Tolfdir hissed and he hadn't let go of her.
"What are you-?!" Tolfdir had pulled her down to her knees with him and upon seeing the fiery glow emit from a ring on his finger, she knew what he intended to do.
She immediately began to incant and the barrier that protected them glowed as bright and ardent as the flames that burst from the ring around Tolfdir's finger. The water at the centre of the room began to boil and Cirilonde heard the Draugr's cries of confusion and pain when the whole room was bathed in flames and devoured all that was not protected by the barrier she struggled to maintain.
In a matter of seconds, all was silent, but she didn't dare open her eyes until Tolfdir swore profoundly. He tore the searing, white-hot ring from his finger and it fell to the ground. The whole room was filled with steam and the Draugr stood frozen in place. Their whole bodies were charred black and their jaws were agape. The eerie, light-blue glow in their eyes simultaneously dimmed and their bodies fell in heaps of ashes to the ground. *3
As their weapons clattered on the ground, Cirilonde wanted nothing more than shield her sensitive ears from the racket but she held on to Tolfdir, whose hand was burned badly as a result of the enchantment partially backfiring on him. "Master Tolfdir…!"
The old Nord hissed in pain and held onto his arm, leaning on the High Elf for support, but in spite of all that, he was laughing. The High Elf looked at him, wondering if he'd gone mad. "Not exactly as planned, but I bet they didn't see that coming."
"Neither did I, really," Cirilonde admitted, but her expression changed to one of concern when she carefully lift the sleeve of his robe. "Let me patch you up."
"But of course, child. Please do," Tolfdir said as nasty blisters began to cover the bright-red, burnt skin on his right arm. "I'll definitely need to review this enchantment with Sergius at a later time."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Cirilonde smiled at him. "Just, hold still a moment, please."
Ever so gentle as not to cause the Nord more discomfort than needed, she held his outstretched arm and began to incant. But then something happened. It wasn't necessarily disturbing or for the worse, but the energy or entity that had disappeared had returned. She'd immediately wanted to stop, but the energy wouldn't let her, merging with the flow of her magicka. Without it, she would've been perfectly able to receive the same result, but because of this merge, Tolfdir's arm was mended without the slightest flaw within a matter of a few seconds. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
Tolfdir and she met eyes. Just what was this? How was it possible this had not been found before after all these countless years?
"That certainly explains why the ring reacted so violently…" Tolfdir furrowed his brow and there was a contemplative flicker in his eyes. "Let us press on. Whatever lingers beyond, we must contain it."
"Shouldn't we head back then and get the help of the others?" Cirilonde asked, but Tolfdir shook his head.
"It is too risky as we've delved too far as is…" He began to utter an incantation and Cirilonde was awed by the familiar he conjured; a spectral sparrow that fluttered around him. When the Nord concluded his spell, the sparrow fluttered off, leaving a brief, shiny trail in its wake.
That's…amazing…Cirilonde barely knew the old man, but her respect and admiration of him had grown by at least a thousand fold. He seemed so simple and unassuming but he was so brilliant and strong! "Let us go then, Master Tolfdir."
They both approached the chains which they simultaneously pulled so they could venture deeper into Saarthal. But the deeper they delved, the both of them noticed how not a speck of dust lingered on any of the tables where fresh, linen wraps and clean tools lay spread out. Though the books had rotten away, they were neatly dusted and lined into the cabinets. For a moment, Cirilonde's mind shot to the book she'd read about Draugr, but her concerns lay elsewhere.
Where the magical energy of this entity had first enhanced their magical abilities and seemed to beckon them, it now grew more grim, commanding, intense and…Intelligent. This conclusion made a shiver run down Cirilonde's spine.
Cirilonde and Tolfdir pressed on but both collapsed to their knees when this entity grew more defensive and beat down on them with an unseen force that sucked the energy out of their bodies. It took them all their willpower to press on. In the distance, they heard the racket of a tempest; a furious wind howling and the subtle hint of a strange, teal glow of some kind. It was too late to go back now.
When they finally made it to the end of the hallway, Cirilonde's breath was taken away. They had entered a spectacular room much like a throne room, or temple of some kind where they found the source of discord and mayhem.
A multi-facetted, massive orb floated ominously in the centre of the room above an altar, surrounded by a whirling storm of glowing, teal energy.
"Careful, Ganir," Drevis said to his fellow Dark Elf. "This residue is pretty volatile."
"Maybe we should spike Ancano's wine with it," Enthir suggested which only earned him a glare from Drevis. The three of them immediately made sure that the Thalmor didn't happen to be on the prowl within earshot of them.
"Define 'volatile'…" Ganir said before he could help himself, much to the Wood Elf's delight.
"No, don't you even dare…" Drevis warned. "We never managed to scrub that residue off the walls. If the Arch-Mage actually paid attention to what happened here…"
Ganir had been eager to find out what exactly Enthir had done when the three elves all looked up, startled by the rapid clatter of hooves on stone, followed by the gates that were flung open. "That's Arniel's horse…!"
But it was Cirilonde who stormed in on the back of Arniel's horse; a sturdy, palomino. Her robes were torn, blooded and scorched. She was clearly not injured, or not any more, at least, but still distraught. She dismounted the horse with surprising grace given its speed and ignored her surroundings, storming into the Hall of Elements.
Ganir made to give chase, worried, but Arniel's horse, who was near the entrance to the Hall of Elements wasn't letting anyone get close. Steam emitted from the equine's coat and as exhausted as it was, it was still distraught by whatever had happened. The horse kicked up its massive hooves at anyone who got near. It took Enthir's natural abilities as a Wood Elf to calm the beast down. When Ganir made to enter the Hall of Elements, however, Drevis grabbed a hold of his fellow Dark Elf's shoulder.
"You best not," Drevis said, shaking his head. "Ancano will be on top of this in no time and the last thing you need is attract more attention."
"She's my friend!" he snapped at him.
"I know, but trust me on this one, all right?" Ganir let out a frustrated growl and jerked his arm free from Drevis.
"Let's first take care of Arniel's horse." Enthir said. "I'm sure we'll find out what happened in no time."
She'd seen the three elves upon returning to the College, but there was no time to waste. It was a miracle she hadn't slipped over the icy tiles or tripped over herself as she skipped some steps of the stairs up to the Arch Mage's tower. Reaching the top, she leaned forward on her knees to catch some of her breath after knocking on the door.
She swore inwardly. And of course, you're here…
Ancano had answered the door and peered down at her past his long nose, raising a brow as he immediately took note of her dishevelled and distraught appearance. "Yes? Aren't you aware the Arch Mage's tower is off limits to apprentices and that he's not available to just anyone?"
Had she been braver and stronger she wasn't sure if shoving her fist or a fireball in his face was more satisfying. At the same time, she chose her words carefully. "I would really like to see the Arch Mage, if possible, as it's important."
"I don't see how any of that is important enough-,"
"Who is there, Ancano?" The voice that came from behind Ancano sounded much like Ganir's except older and more gentle.
"An apprentice here to see you, Arch Mage." Ancano said to the voice over his shoulder without his dark eyes ever leaving hers.
She knew she was bound to regret it, but this was important and she glared at him, angry. She was so sick and tired of being afraid. "It's Cirilonde, Arch-Mage. Master Tolfdir sent me to see you," she called to the Arch-Mage. "It's important."
The Thalmor narrowed his eyes at her and she returned the courtesy.
"I don't recall you being in charge of anything, Advisor." She hoped she sounded as haughty as possible.
As the two High Elves glared each other down, Cirilonde had to agree that Nirya was right. Save for his horrid personality, he was handsome. His golden skin was flawless, his face shorn and his dark golden eyes were intense but very cold and observant. His silver-white hair was brushed and bound back, reaching just past his shoulders in length. Not one single hair was out of place.
The mantle of his spotless, Thalmor robes made him look more broad than he perhaps was, but she couldn't really tell. But she was certain of one thing; he could not be trusted and she was especially certain now that he would be seeking her out after this.
"Let her in then, Ancano, if you please." The Arch-Mage said.
The two High Elves exchanged a final glare before Cirilonde walked past him to enter the Arch-Mage's tower, which were also his Private Quarters.
As she'd suspected by his name and voice, the Arch Mage was a Dark Elf. He was clad in elaborate, triangular robes made of dark-brown, leather and fur with golden embroidery; a mixture of the Nordic and Dunmer style of clothing. What intrigued her, was that the Arch-Mage's snow-white hair was bound in the same fashion as Ganir's, except in a bun rather than a high pony-tail. His scarlet eyes were a strong contrast to his pale, grey-blue skin. He had to be old, even by elven standards.
When the Arch-Mage saw what state Cirilonde's robes were in, he groaned. "Please don't tell me one of the students got incinerated in Saarthal. I have some most pressing matters that require my attention."
"No, Sir, anything but that." Then again…it wasn't far from it. She shot a glance at Ancano, who stood close to her left and she remembered Tolfdir's instructions. "However, it's still a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you privately."
It was brief, but she could see the sharp flicker in the other High Elf's eyes for a brief moment. Otherwise, his expression betrayed nothing when the Arch Mage looked at him.
"I'm sure you wouldn't mind waiting then, Ancano?" Respectful as he sounded, there was a subtlety to the Arch Mage's request that indicated he wouldn't appreciate a 'no' for an answer. One would have to admire the ability to deal with a person like Ancano.
Displeased as he was over this, Ancano veiled his annoyance well and bowed his head. "But of course, Arch-Mage. I thank you for your time."
Cirilonde felt the tension ease off her shoulders when she heard the rustle of his robes and then the opening and closing of the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he indeed was gone and looked at the Arch-Mage, who had returned to take a seat behind his desk.
She stood waiting, uncertain whether to approach or speak. He hadn't even looked up from his writing and raised his hand to her as if he'd sensed her inquiry. Again, she glanced over her shoulder at the door, wondering if the Thalmor was perhaps attempting to eavesdrop on them.
She closed her eyes as it was feint at first, but inhaling again, her nose caught the scent of sandalwood, burning embers and leather-bound tomes. She felt her body relax as her breathing steadied to a slow. The tension and adrenaline slowly left her body.(*4) Now that her mind was no longer muddled by everything that had transpired, she felt at ease enough and able to actually take a proper look at her surroundings.
In her lifetime she had met plenty of eccentric magi and scholars whose quarters were decorated with odd trinkets and ornaments, but the Arch-Mage's Quarters surpassed it all. The walls of the Arch-Mage's tower quarters were lined with bookshelves, glass display cases and paintings. The shelves weren't just lined with bland, old tomes, but also with statuettes, trinkets and artefacts from all corners of the world. What fascinated her the most, however, was the herbarium behind the Arch-Mage's desk. A smaller statue of Shalidor watched over the Arch-Mage, surrounded by Creeping Cluster, mountain flowers and various types of mushrooms. Torches lined the walls, but were not lit. A small fire crackled in the hearth, but the source of light was provided by countless, small orbs of magical, blue light that floated peacefully through the quarters. They seemed to possess a will of their own, sometimes darting after one another in a playful fashion. The Arch-Mage's bed was most likely in the back behind the statue that was supported by the tower's central pillar.
"Lady Cirilonde Valanocke, was it not?" The Arch-Mage finally asked as he laid down his quill.
"Yes, Arch-Mage," she nodded and wondered what else he knew or maybe even thought of her, given who she was and where she was from. "I'm terribly sorry if I interrupted the daily course of your affairs, Sir."
"No. You haven't. In any case. I'm the Arch-Mage. Savos Aren." He gestured for her to have a seat and Cirilonde took up on the offer, approaching the desk. "So, tell me, what was so urgent you needed speak with me privately?"
With her mind clear, Cirilonde told the Arch Mage everything, save for the appearance of the Psijic monk. "-,We made to approach this orb, but it was guarded by a Draugr unlike any I've encountered. This orb we found made its magic exceptionally powerful. We defeated it in the end, but only because the others came looking for us and shot to our aid."
She could tell Savos was listening, but sometimes, his eyes had this hollow, thousand-yard stare as his memories seemed to take him elsewhere. If he was troubled by any of this, he certainly didn't let it show. "It is why Tolfdir sent me rushing here to deliver the news while the others secured the site."
The Dark Elf raked his fingers through his beard, clearly in thought. "I'm glad you've come to inform me then indeed," he finally said. "While I head out to see Tolfdir about this…discovery, I would like you to further your research on the matter of Saarthal's history."
When he extended his arm to his right, a travelling cloak flung off a nearby hook into his hand and he put it on. "You might want to check in with Collette to have a look at you, first, however…"
Cirilonde had known she'd barely escaped with her life but only now did she realize how close she'd been to injury, or worse. There was a large tear at the side of her robes and the sleeves and trimmings were singed. There were holes where the Draugr Warlord had either tried to grab hold of her or stab her with its jagged, ancient blade. Her spells had been able to ward the worst impact off but her body was riddled with small cuts and bruises.
Good thing they arrived in time…she thought. Tolfdir and she had not been able to run, out of breath and at a loss for ideas when Brelyna came running in with Onmund, J'Zargo and Arniel. Combining their efforts and skill, they managed to block the Draugr's connection to the arcane and kill it. "Don't get me wrong, however, I'm most pleased to hear about such a display of prowess. Keep it up and you might find yourself amongst the Journeymen soon enough."
"Thank you, Arch-Mage." She bowed her head. In spite of her sorry and sore state, she was so happy to receive such a compliment. "Safe travels to Saarthal, Sir."
"And one more thing, Lady Valanocke…" Cirilonde turned around to hear what the Arch Mage had to say. "Please avoid antagonizing my…advisor, but all the same, utter not a word to him. He'll answer to me if he doesn't like it."
"Yes sir, I will, sir. I'll be on my way. Once again, Auri-El watch over you."
Cirilonde then turned and made her way down the tower's steps, trying to make sense of everything that had happened and what the Arch Mage had said to her.
She pulled a face when she saw even her hair had fallen victim to the Draugr's fury, some of it singed. But that was not a priority and she double-checked herself for any injuries. Save for some new bruises and cuts, she was relieved to be all right.
But this wasn't over yet and what did the Arch Mage hope for her to find about Saarthal's history that they didn't already know?
All right, let's see what the Arcaneum has in store for us then! She made her way down the tower and crossed the entry hall to the stairwell up to the Arcaneum. She had barely gone up a few steps when the wind was suddenly knocked out of her. She panicked when she instinctively made to raise a ward but nothing happened and Ancano appeared behind her out of nowhere, holding her in place with a powerful telekinesis spell.
"I believe we haven't been properly introduced beyond the brainless gossip of your peers." Ancano's lips had curled into a malicious smirk. "I understood you came all the way here from Alinor, Lady Valanocke."
"If you know who I am then you certainly would be wise to immediately cease this disgraceful way of treating me!" She gave a hiss when he intentionally put pressure on her sore body with the invisible, magical hold he had on her.
"Some word has reached me, but I am certainly not impressed by the reputation that precedes you or your family. However, this is of little concern to me. I'd rather more like to hear what was so important that you had to speak the Arch Mage…What did you find at Saarthal?"
"I believe I was sent to inform the Arch Mage and not you." Her eyes shot fire at him but she gave a yelp when he used his grip on her to twist her arm. "Let go of me!"
"I highly recommend you cease to play coy with me, lest I inform the Arch Mage that you are also a thief…After all, I wonder how even someone of your standing got a hold of a trinket such as this…"
How in Oblivion he'd gotten his claws on Taurmillan's necklace was beyond her, but for a brief moment, her memory flashed to their earlier glare-down in the doorway to the Arch Mage's quarters. Ancano's lips had curled into a victorious smirk. Now I have you…!
But rather than afraid, Cirilonde laughed, much to Ancano's dismay. "Do you even know who it belongs to? It was given to me by my betrothed, Taurmillan Highal. I'm sure even the likes of you knows who he is."
Ancano immediately let go of her and the necklace as though he'd been burned and she fell to her knees. She snatched the necklace up and defiantly glared up at him. "I'll make sure to find out if any of that is true…" His head shot up when the Arcaneum's door to the tower stairwell had opened she they could hear Mirabelle and Faralda's voices. "Don't you even dare think for a moment this is over," the Thalmor hissed at her in warning. "I will be watching you and if you even dare to speak of this to anyone…"
Cirilonde was left shaking in her boots when Ancano disappeared without a trace. He'd no doubt cast an invisibility spell to make a getaway and a horrible realisation hit her.
Where at first, the mention of Taurmillan's name seemed like a good idea, what if it meant Ancano was going to delve deeper into her family? What if word of this reached Taurmillan and offended him? Or what if they somehow found out what had happened before she got to Helgen with Ganir? And Whiterun?!
The Altmer sank to her knees in despair and began to sob, not caring if Mirabelle or Faralda saw when they made their way over to her. They were startled to find her in such distress.
"What happened? Are you all right?" Mirabelle asked her as she and Faralda helped her to her feet.
"Just…I'm all right, just…" Cirilonde cast a glance down the few steps, certain that Ancano still lingered there. It was best to lie about her encounter with the Thalmor for the sake of everyone's safety. Ancano was no ordinary bully who'd make idle threats. "It was just so scary. Something happened at Saarthal and it just all came crashing down on me. I was just going to get something to eat and rest…I just need some books to relax to."
But Mirabelle and Faralda weren't stupid and exchanged knowing glances. Unbeknownst to Cirilonde, Mirabelle had certain tools at her disposal, but suspecting the Thalmor was lurking somewhere nearby, she played along whether the apprentice took note or not.
"Oh you poor dear. Then you indeed should be doing that," Mirabelle tutted. "You should also check in with Colette just to make sure you're all right. I'll get you some new robes."
"Thank you kindly, but I'm fine. Just shaken. I best be on my way!" Cirilonde smiled and the Master Wizard received her confirmation in passing, when Cirilonde whispered. "Ancano," in her ear. The Master Wizard shot a look at Faralda who immediately understood.
"Very good, Miss Valanocke, I hope to see you tomorrow at my class again then!" Faralda played along.
To Cirilonde's relief, there was barely anyone in the Arcaneum. She leaned against the door and took a few deep breaths to gather herself. That was way too close. Ganir. He needs to know about this…
What a mess she'd gotten herself into. How in Oblivion was she going to get out of this one, with or without help? Not to mention she had definitely incurred Ancano's wrath…One thing at a time, Ciri. She told herself and straightening her back, she walked past the circular, open stairway in the centre of the Arcaneum, to the back, where Urag was generally found sat at his desk.
It was a funny sight to see an Orc like him treat books with such gentle care. He even wore special gloves as not to stain the ancient parchment or tomes he tended too. He furrowed his bushy brows at her dishevelled appearance. "You'd better not make a mess of my books, girl. What can I do for you?"
"I won't touch anything now," she promised him. "The Arch Mage requested I see you about any books you had on Saarthal and its history."
"Saarthal, eh? That explains…" Urag shook his head. "I'd lend them to you, but I don't have them anymore," there was a visible twitch at his brow, clearly getting annoyed. "They've been stolen."
"Stolen?" Cirilonde found it hard to believe anyone was cunning and stupid enough to steal from an Orc who guarded the Arcaneum like a dragon would his hoard.
"You heard me." The Orc growled. "Was before you wet-ears got here. A small group of students got into a disagreement with the Arch Mage. He wouldn't let them perform any more summoning rituals after one of the students got torn to shreds by a horde of angry scamps. They left, but not after they helped themselves to some of the books they needed."
"Great. And I suppose the Arch-Mage doesn't know about this?" Cirilonde groaned. "And you of course, don't know by chance where they were headed, right?"
"Of course the Arch Mage knows," Urag growled. "He just prefers to let things like these sort themselves out. Looks like you'll be doing that now, won't you?"
"Me?! How am I even-?! Isn't this your 'personal plain of Oblivion'?!" Cirilonde exclaimed in outrage. "So much for keeping everything in pristine condition."
Urag's temper flared and Cirilonde got scared when he slammed his fist down so hard on the desk that it almost gave. "I don't exactly expect any students here to be sliming thieves, you hear!" Embarrassed by the sudden loss of his temper and the effect it had, he cleared his throat and composed himself. He also lowered his tone to a whisper. "Look, I can't exactly leave the Arcaneum either because I'd not only return to a disaster of a mess, but it would raise questions with that damn Thalmor."
"And me leaving wouldn't?" Cirilonde hissed. "Do you even know where these guys went and they even have those books?"
"You went to Saarthal, right? You could easily leave for 'research'." Urag said to her. "And yes, I know where they went and what they took. I'd make a damn poor warden if I didn't know what the Arcaneum's collection existed of."
Cirilonde heaved a frustrated and resigned sigh. There was no twisting or turning around this. She'd have to deal with this. "Fine."
"They went to a place called Fellglow Keep," Urag said. "It's one of those old, Imperial Forts that was either destroyed during this or previous wars…" The Orc pulled a map out of one of the many cabinets and drawers of his u-shaped desk and rolled it out. "After asking around and looking into it myself, I found it's somewhere around here, near Whiterun."
Cirilonde made to run her hand through her hair as she looked at the map, only to find her fingers tangled in her locks. Could this day get any fucking worse? She thought. "I'll see what I can do, Urag."
"If it helps, your friend, Ganir owes me." The Orc grinned.
She gave him a nod and took the marked map with her. She stowed it away and decided it was best to first clean herself up before trying to find the Dark Elf. She wasn't even surprised to find him waiting for her in her room. He locked the door behind them and he caught her in his arms, holding her tight. "Are you all right? What happened? I-,"
"I'm not injured, but no, I'm not okay." She didn't want to let go of him, feeling safe now.
"Where are the others?"
"They're still at Saarthal or on the way back. I-,…I don't even know where to begin!"
It was erratic at first, but once she'd calmed down some, Cirilonde told Ganir everything that had happened at Saarthal from the moment they arrived, to the appearance of the Psijic Monk before they discovered the orb and fought the Draugr Warlord. How she'd rushed back to the College to inform the Arch-Mage and got cornered on the way to the Arcaneum by Ancano. She wasn't sure if he could tell she was lying when she said that Mirabelle and Faralda had come just in time to 'scare' the Thalmor away. As she spoke, Ganir watched how she would tend to her small injuries. Her incantations were melodious and serene, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow.
"-The problem is that the books got stolen by a group of renegade students," she concluded while trying to untangle the mess of her hair with a brush and some kind of jasmine-scented oil she'd poured from a small flask. "I just don't know what they-," She turned to look at Ganir when he grabbed a hold of her hand that held the brush. The sleeve of her robe had slipped down and though it was feint, he had seen the imprint of a hand on her wrist. It had come from Ancano's indirect, magical grip on her.
"Did he do this to you?" Ganir's blood began to boil but he jerked back when she menacingly pointed her hairbrush at him.
"Don't even think about it," she warned him and before he even thought of protesting, she whipped the brush at him again. "No. You heard what I told you the Arch Mage said to me. Do you even realize what else that monster could be capable of? Antagonizing him is only going to make things worse not just for us, but also for everyone else here. Besides, it's nothing compared to what the Draugr almost did to me."
"Promise you don't wander around alone from now on." He knew she was right, but if he so much as caught him hurting her or anyone else…She nodded and he smiled a little, reassured a bit. "But all of this…Are you now supposed to go and retrieve these books?"
"Yes, and Urag so happened to remind me you owe him."
Ganir scowled. Not another damn chore…But for her, anything! "Before we do any of that, you first need to get some food, rest and change. You look like you wrestled a dragon. I'll wait just outside the door, all right?"
He had barely shut the doors behind her when the door to the Hall of Attainment opened and both Faralda and Mirabelle entered. "Is she-?" When the Dark Elf nodded, the Master Wizard waited for Cirilonde to emerge. "Hello, Master Wizard. See? I'm much better now."
"He's not here. I made sure of that." Mirabelle said with a far too happy smile and she wondered what she'd done or arranged to distract the Thalmor. "Now, tell me what happened and what did Ancano do?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to lie to you, but I didn't know if he was nearby or not," Cirilonde apologized and then told Mirabelle and Faralda everything.
"I wish there was more I could do about this, but my hands are tied," Mirabelle gave a sigh, shaking her head. "Ancano is here as an ambassador of the Thalmor to 'promote relations'. If he were to be treated poorly, it could affect the College as a whole."
"Then there's the matter of the books. He will be asking questions if we leave to go get them," Ganir said. "I owe Urag one, so I'll be accompanying her."
"Well, I wouldn't have wanted for Cirilonde to go alone to begin with, so I'm glad to see you're volunteering." Mirabelle replied. "He'll be far too occupied with what's been discovered at Saarthal. If you cannot avoid him, remind him he answers either to me or Savos."
"You had best hurry, I think the distraction is about to wear off," Faralda said. "You might escape his notice if you leave now."
Ganir and Cirilonde nodded and did so, quickly gathering whatever they needed.
*1: I hope I described it well, but I just had to elaborate here to be sure. But the Eye of Magnus' influence is strong. I figured it would enhance or hamper one's flow of magicka. Judging by the lore and stats of the staff, that is. Given how a mage's emotions can enhance their magical abilities, I figured that the Eye of Magnus, because of how intelligent it is, would use Brelyna's ramblings to fuel her temper for long enough to distract her so that the Eye could take control of Cirilonde and lead the High Elf to the amulet.
*2: It bothered me how in some situations, Tolfdir was portrayed as a bit of a senile, old idiot while the guy has to be pretty bad-ass for his age given what he knows and how he's not afraid to take Ancano on with you in the quest, so yeah, I had to give him credit where it was due that as old as he is, he's really not an idiot. Or, I figured, he may keep up that front just to piss people like Ancano off.
*3: Judging by the effects Ancano suffered, I imagine the Eye of Magnus gives one a huge boost to their magical abilities, or enhances the effects of magically enchanted items/weapons. Therefore, a simple enchantment of a 'fire storm' to ward off the undead, or perhaps just 'Turn' them, could have such a devastating effect as seen here.
*4: I figured that's how a 'Calm Creature' or 'Calm Humanoid' spell would work. In spite of how aloof and distant Savos Aren, the Arch-Mage, appeared during the time you actually see him and talk to him in game, he seemed like a most capable man who preferred not to flaunt his abilities.
