Chapter 18

Cirilonde's eyes slowly fluttered open. Her face hurt and stung where Taurmillan had struck her, but it was not the reason why her awakening was so slow. Aside from the invisible talons holding her in place mid-air, surrounded by a fiery, magical barrier, Taurmillan had dulled her mind with his intricate spells.

She furrowed her brow, wondering what the racket outside was until she could discern the cries of battle, the clatter of blades and the whirling blasts and lights of spellcasting. She wondered briefly if this was another illusion of his, when she suddenly heard the unmistakable voice of Ganir's Shout which thundered over the courtyard, where no doubt, the battle took place.

What is happening…How can…?! Cirilonde grit her teeth for she had shifted slightly and the invisible talons immediately tightened their hold on her and dug into her skin through the fabric of her robes. It took a lot of effort for her to find out that when she relaxed, the talons eased their grip on her. She steadied her breathing and fought against Taurmillan's influence over her mind flow, which was weakening for some reason. They need me…I need to break out of this…

The ward and the talons would no doubt prove to be a challenge, but there was also the issue of the magic-suppressing irons that still tied her hands together. Her mind reeled as she ran through all the possibilities based on her vast knowledge of the magic schools but as the battle outside grew more intense, she let out a cry of frustration. I don't have time to over think this! In her exasperation, she struck at thin air as if the invisible talons had a face. They immediately reached to restrain her once more, but as much pain as they inflicted on her, grazing and tearing at her skin, she was determined to not let herself be contained any longer like some skittish animal.

She yelled and swore, in pain and anger as she fought against the invisible talons until they finally had enough of her and they slammed her against the ward. She yelped as the magic-suppressing irons collided against the fiery ward and grew immensely hot, but she also saw that the barrier began to weaken.

She was then slammed to the ground by the malevolent force but in spite of it all, she grinned. I think there's a little flaw in your trap, you bastard. In his full focus to suppress her magic, Taurmillan had overseen her determination to break free and help her friends through physical means and that the magic-suppressing irons were the key.

She waited, patiently, easing her breathing and relaxing her body, though it trembled as the adrenaline began to rush through her body. She would succeed no matter what.

When she felt the grip waver, lingering in the background again, she jumped up and rammed the irons against the ward. The talons grabbed hold of her arms and tried to tear them away from the ward, but every time the irons hit the ward, they too grew weaker. The stench of burning wool of her robes and her flesh soon filled her nostrils as with each blow, the irons grew hotter and hotter, but as unbearable as it was, she would not relent or give up. The College, her friends, they needed her!

I'm going to make you pay for what you did to Tolfdir even if it means the death of me you. Fucking. Bastard! With those last three words, she gave it her all and threw her full body weight and all her strength in ramming the wards with the irons. Both the ward and the irons gave, shattering like glass. She turned her face away as an instinctive reaction to protect herself. She flew through the air and skidded over the floor, landing quite unceremoniously, but she had broken free.

She curled up, wincing and whimpering as she clutched one of her wrists which were badly burned. Her stomach churned from the pain and how dizzy and drained she felt. Initially, she didn't realize it as it had been feint, but she had also completely forgotten about Savos Aren's amulet around her neck which grew warm and she felt its enchantment flow forth. The bleeding cuts and scratches that the claws had left were mended but it wasn't strong enough to properly heal the burns, but well enough to stop it from hurting too much.

Though she definitely felt better, her body still ached and she crawled to her hands and knees when the walls shook once more, followed by a Shout and the clatter of blades. Except, this had not been outside, but downstairs in the Hall of Elements…

Ganir! She stumbled for the door and grabbed hold of its handle to open it, but it was locked. Having gathered her strength, she didn't hesitate a moment and blasted the lock open, shielding her face from the splinters with her arms before she made her way down. Each time the walls shook again, she stopped and leaned against the wall for support, afraid she would fall as she still wasn't that steady on her feet. The first thing she saw was that the door to the Hall of Elements had been blasted to smithereens and outside, she saw how the College Mages protected their home, fighting Taurmillan's men. Her blood ran cold when she ran into the Hall of elements, expecting Taurmillan to fight Ganir, but instead, saw the Lord Exarch face off against Ancano.

Taurmillan's blade was ablaze with magical fire, channeled by himself while he was on the offensive against Ancano, who wielded the Staff of Magnus. But as powerful as Taurmillan's magic and blows were, the Staff of Magnus did not yield to the blade and absorbed the magic. But with each blow, the impacts were slowly but surely wearing down on Ancano who was forced to defend himself, raising the Staff to ward off the blows, if not side-step to dodge whatever spell was hurled his way.

"Enough of this foolishness!" Taurmillan bellowed and with the ease of unsheathing another blade, he conjured a Daedric blade and lunged for Ancano once more. With renewed vigor, the Lord Exarch leapt forward and slammed both blades down on the Staff of Magnus. The impact of the magic infused blades against the Staff caused a blast of energy that threw both the Elves back, knocking Ancano on his back.

Taurmillan made a speedy recovery and charged for Ancano once more now that he was vulnerable. "This ends here and now!" The Lord Exarch roared, intent on delivering the killing blow.

Ancano raised the Staff of Magnus and the blades, one ablaze and the other conjured clashed against the dragon bone artefact. Rather than retreat and strike at Ancano again, however, Taurmillan forced his blades down on the Staff with all his strength while the other High Elf fought back with all of his.
The crackle of teal lightning surrounded the Staff and the scars left by the Eye of Magnus on Ancano's body flared up and he howled in pain while struggling to protect himself.

"You will rue the day you crossed me, Ancano and I will make sure you suffer!" Taurmillan's face was set in a snarl, furious and determined to be victorious. It consumed him so much that he hadn't seen or heard Cirilonde charge at him with the elven blade she found lying near a dead Thalmor soldier at the entrance until it was too late.

"The only one who will suffer is you!" Cirilonde roared as she plunged the blade through his back. Blood burst from the wound along with the blade and the air was knocked from the Lord Exarch's lungs and blood poured from his mouth.
In the momentum that the force of his blades against the Staff was weakened, however, the Staff retaliated and unleashed its full force against all three elves.

The stone floor under Ancano dented and cracked under the Staff's power and he gasped for air as the impact broke his ribs. Cirilonde was flung against the far wall and so was Taurmillan, however in another direction.

Rather than collapse dead to the ground like anticipated however, Taurmillan stood slumped against the pillar, clutching the profusely bleeding wound in rage and disbelief. He then looked at Cirilonde, who lay on the ground face down. "You have defied me for the last time!"

Ancano willed his body to move, but the blow had left him dazed and paralyzed and he watched in horror how the Lord Exarch raised his hand and Cirilonde, who had barely gotten to her feet, suddenly tensed up and was raised off the ground. The scream that escaped her lips was a terrible and primal one.

She had never known such an excruciating anguish to be able to exist, nor had she experienced anything like it. He wasn't torturing her, he wasn't even taking the very essence of her life force but he was tearing it from her very being, sparing none of her body so Taurmillan could use it to mend his own. "Stop it, you bastard! You're killing her!"


The battle that raged on the College grounds was still going on as well, but because the College Mages had taken the Lord Exarch's men by complete surprise, they didn't just have the upper hand, but they also had their trump card now; the Dragonborn.

The rapid succession in which his blades clattered against Sylva's was deafening to both their sensitive ears. They had started on the College Courtyard, but their fight had moved them to the battlements as Sylva had no qualms about using anything or anyone as a meat shield or diversion to gain the upper hand.

When Ganir finally managed to outmaneuver her and kicked her off, jumping after her to plunge his blades into her chest and throat, she grinned at him. In the momentum of their fall, she too had readied her blades and they flawlessly stabbed him in the chest on landing. Both their faces showed brief confusion and disbelief as to why neither had died, but then they both realized that they were not mortal.

They rolled over the ground, throwing punches and kicks before Ganir bound backwards and sheathed both his blades. "So you want to play it this way, huh?" he growled, wiping the blood from his face. His armor had been torn and shredded, but so was hers and the both of them were covered in blood; both their own and of others.

"It's been a while I had this much fun," Sylva smirked, curling her tongue over her lips to lap up the blood that poured down from the vile gash that Ganir had left across her face from her forehead, over her nose, below her eye to her ear. "But I'll make sure you'll pay for scarring up my pretty face."

"There won't be much left of it when I'm through with you, bitch!" Ganir had discarded his gloves and he flashed his claws before charging at her. Their fight was comparable to a wolf facing off against a wild feline. Sylva was unpredictable, agile and swift where as Ganir's style of combat was calculated and logical, not necessarily to immediately kill, but to expose her weaknesses to make said action the most efficient.

Their claws tore away at each other's armors and flesh, spattering the ground and walls with red until finally, Ganir saw his chance and ducked under her arm, grabbing hold of it. He then raised his leg against her chest and with all the strength he could muster, he tore her arm from the socket and she shrieked like a banshee. She made to strike at him with her good arm, but he turned away and in that momentum, he gave another jerk and tore her arm from her body and pinned her to the ground. She tried to fend Ganir off her, but with a "FUS" she was knocked to the ground and he shoved his claws into her chest. Blood spattered everywhere as his fingers grasped her heart and tore it out. Her green eyes went wide and she gasped for air like a fish on the dry. Her arm and legs flailed in an attempt to fight off her imminent death, begging and pleading like a child, but Ganir squashed the heart before her very eyes, which grew dull and hollow and her body went limp.

"That's for Tolfdir, bitch." Ganir made to help fight the College Mages against the Thalmor, but had it been possible, his blood ran cold as the most terrible, terrifying shriek of pure anguish resounded over the College grounds and surely beyond. "Cirilonde!"

Ganir's claws tore at the Thalmor that got in his way as he bolted into the Hall of Elements. Just as he entered, he watched how Taurmillan released Cirilonde from his telekinetic grip and she fell to the ground. The Lord Exarch then stretched his other hand out to summon his blade to him. "Just like that damn brother of yours," he hissed and he made his way over to Ancano.

"Cirilonde!" Ancano roared. "Ciri!" Ancano lay on his stomach, clutching the Staff of Magnus in one hand while the other clutched his chest as if it would ease the pain of his broken ribs. "What did you do to her?! Cirilonde!"

He grunted when Taurmillan kicked him in the chest. "Don't worry…You'll be joining her soon."

"WULD NA KEST!" The Lord Exarch had barely registered the most strange cry as something came charging for him at the speed of light and rammed him in full force. "I will fucking tear you to shreds!" Ganir's eyes held a glow of feral rage and he lashed his claws at Taurmillan, shredding the black and golden robes and leaving deep gashes over the Lord Exarch's chest who was not fast enough to raise his blade to protect himself.

Taurmillan was completely taken aback and it showed on his face for a brief moment before he concealed it and conjured another Daedric blade to defend himself against the vampire.
"Sylva!" He bellowed while parrying Ganir's blows. "Sylva!"

"I tore that bitch's heart out and I will do the same with yours!" Ganir snarled, emphasizing each word with every blow he tried to deal, but once the Lord Exarch had recovered his footing, he fought back against the vampire, pushing him back and forced him to retreat after a gout of white-hot flame was shot his way.

"I will burn you to ashes, you mongrel!" Taurmillan bellowed and he shot forth a barrage of flames, forcing Ganir to retreat and dodge. He tried to break free from the assault but the Lord Exarch pushed him into a corner. He had made the same error of assumption again, however, as Ancano had not been rendered unable to fight. Though every, single breath and movement hurt, Ancano leaned on the Staff for support to get to his feet and raised it when Taurmillan joined his hands together to bundle the force of his magic and burn Ganir to a crisp. Ganir threw himself to the ground, but the flames never burst forth from the Lord Exarch's hands as the Staff of Magnus pulled them towards Ancano. But rather than absorb it, Ancano steered the flames back to the Lord Exarch with the tenfold force, equaling the fiery breath of a dragon.

The Lord Exarch roared in rage and pain as he tried to fight the flames that would soon devour him. The Staff of Magnus began to shake and the teal lightning wreaked havoc on Ancano's body as the scars lit up again, burning into his skin, but the High Elf was furious and he would not relent even if it would cost him his life. "Hell will know no fury like mine, Lord Exarch. I will end you for once and for all!" Ancano bellowed as the two High Elves pushed against the destructive force that would kill either off them. But finally, unexpectedly, the orb on top of the Staff of Magnus shattered and the raw, uncontrolled magic that had been stored within the artefact combined with the flames, shot towards the Lord Exarch. Ganir and Ancano dived out of the way as the entire, combined force engulfed Taurmillan and devoured him whole until nothing remained. An enormous blast wave exploded from the Lord Exarch's remains as the Staff of Magnus was shattered to pieces and drained everything in its wake of its magicka.

The two elves slowly and carefully looked up, but once he saw it was safe, Ancano was the first to reach Cirilonde's side for she still hadn't moved. "Ciri…!" He knelt down at her side and turned her over, lifting her in his arms. His whole body was aching and the scars that lined his body still held a slowly fading glow. "Ciri…!" He stroked her face and felt she had gone cold. "No…No…" He shook his head in disbelief and gently shook her. "Ciri…Ciri, please wake up."

"Ancano." Ganir struggled to get to his feet and beheld the heartbreaking sight before him. The High Elf frantically incanted to heal her, but no matter what he did, the woman in his arms would not open her eyes.

"No…Ciri…not you…" Ancano's stomach churned with the dreadful realization that she would not wake.

Ganir put his hand on Ancano's shoulder. Though he could not shed tears, he felt a sorrow unlike any he had felt before since his mother's brutal murder. Ancano clutched Cirilonde tight against him, burying his face in her hair, nuzzling her and hiding his face from view. His shoulders shook and he was clearly mourning her death, but he didn't want anyone to see. "Of all the things they could have taken away from me…they took her."

Ganir tried to maintain his composure but he was choking up. All the memories he had shared with her from the moment he had met Cirilonde flashed before his eyes. The silence that had fallen over the College grounds was deafening.

"I'm sorry, Ancano…I was too late." Ganir didn't know what else to say or do and stared at Cirilonde's lifeless body. He knelt down and gently stroked a few white-golden locks from her face.

Outside, the atmosphere of triumph of the College over the Thalmor was brief. The few of them that had survived had surrendered when they saw it was futile once their Lord had fallen. J'Zhargo, Onmund and Brelyna had to tear Urag off General Thorelas to prevent he would be beaten to death by the enraged Orc. They all looked up when Jarl Korir and his men came riding on to the College grounds and beheld the scene before them in silence, not sure how to react.

"What in the Nine happened here?!" Jarl Korir exclaimed once he had dismounted. "Where is your Arch-Mage…Is he inside, or? Dragonborn!"

When Brelyna saw the fellow Dark Elf, she could tell right away that something was wrong, and after making sure that Urag wouldn't have another go at the General, she ran over to him.

"I'm fine," Ganir said, waving a dismissive hand, but it was clear he wasn't and gripped her arm when she made to go inside. She saw Ancano cradle Cirilonde in his arms, but she wasn't moving. She shook her head, devastated and her eyes filled with tears.

"No…No…Let me go see her!" But Ganir shook his head.

"Leave him be for now." Though his tone was gentle, Brelyna could pick up the grave undertone in his voice. The Dark Elf then looked past her at the Jarl who had addressed him, and now stood talking with Faralda.

His eyes scanned the perimeter and watched the countless bodies. Thankfully, all of them were Thalmor, but by Azura had their victory come at a terrible price.

"What do you mean he is dead?! But how in…Why?! Dragonborn," Jarl Korir turned to Ganir. "I am so sorry."

"Where are Cirilonde and Ancano?" Faralda looked like she had wrestled a dragon. Her robes were torn and singed in a variety of places and her arms and face had a variety of burns.

Ganir was silent for a moment as he struggled to find the words to convey the fact that Cirilonde was dead, but that very silence told Faralda a lot. "Is she…Is he…?"

"Cirilonde is dead." Once those three words were uttered and heard, another deafening silence fell. "Ancano is with her now. Just…Just leave him be for now."

Jarl Korir tensed, uncomfortable and not sure how to respond at first. "I'm terribly sorry for your losses. I did not know your Advisor that well, but Tolfdir was a son of Skyrim and a man I could deeply respect despite our differences. He worked hard to restore the relation between my people and the College," Jarl Korir said with surprising sincerity. "If there's anything you need…"

"Just help them…I'll be fine. I just need to see her." Ganir said and then looked at Faralda. "You should get Tolfdir out of the Midden."


Riften's city held many layers and the center was but the tip of the iceberg in regards to its corruption. Shady merchants and menacing henchmen lurked and loitered about its dark alleyways, but the source of it all stemmed from the Ratway, which lay in the lower parts of the city near the water and sewers, out of sight of the common view.

It wasn't easy to find as one would think given its notoriety, but Ondolemar had his connections and there was one in this city as well; a most unpleasant, scarred Khajiit who had eyed the High Elf and his companion with distrust, asking them what business they had in the Ratway when they asked her about it.

"This is Thalmor business, Shavari." Ondolemar had sneered. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

"But of course, Justiciar," the Khajiit's reply came through gritted teeth and bowed before disappearing into another, foreboding alleyway. The Breton and the High Elf then made their way through the city according to the given directions and made their way down into the Ratway Vaults.

Aside from the fact that the Justiciar was not much company and was not intent on being civil with her (nor was she), Delphine was quite consumed by the countless questions she had. When had Esbern come to Skyrim? How long had he stayed here and why? How had it been possible for them to not have stumbled across one another in her travels?

She was brutally torn from her train of thoughts as the repulsive stench of the Ratway vaults greeted her. Divines knew what the origins were of the disgusting drab that covered the ground and walls; a most likely mixture of mold, excrement and …well, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know. The first two guesses were more than enough. She suppressed her urges to throw up and covered her mouth and nose with her thick, wool scarf. How Ondolemar hadn't responded in the same fashion as she completely eluded her but she didn't concern her with it for too long. She wanted to find Esbern as soon as possible and get out of there.

"Look," Delphine said. "He's going to be paranoid. You need to stay out of sight or he will assume it's a Thalmor trap. If it isn't one after all."

"Don't flatter yourself, I wouldn't waste my time storming through the rain just to apprehend a paranoid old hag, and an older fool on his last days." Ondolemar was clearly in a foul mood and he would definitely rip the Dragonborn a new one for sending him on this 'mission'. Not only did he have to put up with Delphine, who bit him of all things, but his robes were getting soiled and Auri-El knew if this filth and stench would ever leave his clothe, nose or hair.

When they heard voices, however, the both of them stopped dead in their tracks and hid away. "All right, old man, we're giving you a final chance to surrender and come with us willingly!"

"Just leave an old man alone, will you?! I want none of whatever nonsense you're selling me!" Came an almost stereotypical voice of a stubborn, old man. "I told Brynjolf's little cronies the same last time!"

They heard how he slammed something shut, probably a tiny peeking hatch of some sort. Delphine looked at Ondolemar, terrified for Esbern's life. They had found him! No. Esbern!

Ondolemar raised his finger to his lips and mouthed "Wait here," to her, but once he disappeared , Delphine didn't hesitate a moment. She wasn't going to leave Esbern in their hands. She had to act!

Ondolemar had carefully made his way over to where his colleagues were, where he beheld a sight he was far too accustomed too in all his years with the Thalmor. An old, toothless woman, clad in bloodstained clothes lay sprawled on the floor. She had been pushed off the grimy stairs and had fallen to her death. Another pair of beggars lay dead as well, killed by the Thalmor soldiers who were accompanied by a greasy, middle-aged Nord and a Thalmor battlemage.

"I hope for you that your valuable resource didn't lead you to mislead us, Gissur," said the battlemage to the greasy Nord.

"No, it has to be him. Rulindil was there. He confirmed it!" Gissur exclaimed, pounding his fist on the door. "Open up, old man, we know who you are!"

No response came from the other end of the door and Ondolemar knew he had to act quickly. I am risking my neck here for you, Ancano.

He emerged from the shadows and approached the Thalmor, who had spun around when they heard his footsteps. "Justiciar Ondolemar of Markarth…What are you doing here?"

"Forgive my tardiness. I was delayed on the way here," Ondolemar lied. "Did you not receive the missive?"

"What missive?" Gissur asked, suspicious right away. As lowly of a spy he was, he was the fly on the wall in the Embassy and he knew a lot more than he often let on. "There's been no missions at all as most have been recalled to reconstruct the Embassy. Didn't you hear?"

"Mind your tongue, Nord and remember who you're speaking too," Ondolemar glared down at Gissur, who visibly cringed and backed down. "I was sent here to retrieve the old fool for safekeeping until the Embassy is operational again."

"But we received no such notice!" The battle-mage protested.

"Need I remind you as well who you're speaking too, operative?" Ondolemar narrowed his eyes. "I should have you lashed for insubordination."

"No, please, forgive me, Justiciar, I meant no disrespect!" The battle-mage wasn't necessarily concerned with the pain from the lashes, but rather the shame that came as a consequence. "The problem, however, is that he has completely sealed off his door with the most intricate wards and locks."

"I see," Ondolemar made to continue the charade when they all turned their heads when they heard someone come running over.

"Don't fall for that traitor's lies!" Shavari shouted. "He is a traitor! He's in collaboration with the Dragonborn!"

How she could have known, Ondolemar didn't know, but he was most grateful when Delphine leapt down from a manhole above them and ran her katana through the two Thalmor soldiers, leaving Ondolemar to contend with the battlemage.

"What's going on out there?! Can't an old man sleep in peace without all this racket?!" Esbern shouted from the other end of the door.

"Esbern!" Delphine cried. "It's me, Delphine!" She took a sharp breath when Shavari's dagger missed her face by an inch or two. She spun around and kicked the Khajiit in the stomach, causing her to double over and back away. Delphine then made to slash her blade at Shavari, but she raised her dagger in defense, which was slammed from her grasp from the impact.

"Scum!" Shavari hissed, baring her teeth and readying her claws. Even though she was unarmed, a Khajiit as vicious as this one would prove to be a formidable foe.

"I don't know any Delphine!" Esbern shouted back. There was some racket behind the door. Just what was the old man doing?! She didn't get a chance to ask or think about it as Khajiit female charged for her again, dodging her blade and lashing at her with her chipped, but razor-sharp claws.

The thunder and crackle of magical lightning rumbled through the Ratway vaults as Ondolemar faced off against the nameless battlemage and Gissur.

"You know that this won't end well for you, Ondolemar!" Gissur taunted from one of the tunnels where he had hidden away for cover.

You wouldn't be as confident if you were alone, you slime. Ondolemar cursed the lack of space that was not only a setback for him, but also to the Thalmor battlemage with Gissur. They had slung spells back and forth between one another while diving from one tunnel to another in an attempt to dive for cover if not sneak up on one another.

Ondolemar pushed himself against the wall as Gissur passed by him with the battlemage in tow. Though they hadn't seen him, he knew it was best to not get caught and he carefully shimmied sideways. When he looked down at his feet to make sure he wouldn't accidentally kick anything away, he saw the familiar shimmer of oil in the drab.

He hadn't been eager to use fire magic in fear of blowing the whole Ratway up because of the fumes and gasses that could possibly linger, but he saw that the trail of oil lead from him to the tunnel where the spy and battlemage had gone. He then looked up and saw that the oil in question was dripping down from a nearby manhole. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This would do.

He gave his position away by shattering a glass bottle, groaning as though he had fallen or had been overwhelmed. Gissur and the battlemage immediately took the bait and ran over, freezing on the spot when they saw the flames dance in Ondolemar's hand. The High Elf Smirked triumphantly and he used a jump spell to leap through the manhole as he threw the flames to the ground. The oil and fumes caught flame instantly and it happened so fast that the Thalmor battle-mage and Gissur couldn't get away in time. Ondolemar swore profusely when he dove for cover as flames shot up through the manhole he had jumped through and he landed in a puddle of slick, repulsive drab but he had to stay down lest he get burned himself.

When he was certain it was safe, he lowered himself through the manhole and scrunched his nose when he saw the charred remains. Quite gruesome…but efficient. He made his way over to the room where Esbern was hiding behind the locked door. Delphine sheathed her blade, spatters of blood all over her face and armor. Before her stood the headless body of Shavari who shortly after fell to the ground as her head rolled over the floor.

When Delphine saw the Thalmor, however, covered in soot and mud, she couldn't help but laugh. "Judging by that look you'd think you've been wrestling pigs." She laughed, much to his dismay. He made to retort when she turned to pound the door where Esbern had been hiding. "Esbern. It's me. You've got to open the door."

"I don't know any Esbern!" The old Nord said once again.

"That's not the Esbern I know from the thirtieth of Frostfall!" Delphine's voice croaked. She had not been there herself that day, but every single Blade would forever remember that terrible day.

Ondolemar furrowed his brow for a brief moment, but then remembered what had happened that day. The thirtieth of Frostfall in the one-hundred and seventy-first year of the Fourth Era, was the day that the Aldmeri Dominion had sent an ambassador to the Imperial city with a gift in a covered cart and an ultimatum for the new Emperor. The long list of demands included the disbandment of the Blades, outlawing the worship of Talos and ceding large sections of Hammerfell to the Dominion. Despite the warnings, Emperor Titus Mede the second rejected the ultimatum, and the ambassador upended the cart and spilled over a hundred heads on the floor which had once belonged to the Blades agents posted in Summerset and Valenwood.

And so, the Great War had begun.

Delphine glared at Ondolemar over her shoulder as if he was the sole person responsible for this very heinous act and he glared back at her. The Blades had been right in assuming the Aldmeri Dominion were a threat; they were superior! But in Ondolemar's eyes, it had been no excuse to drag in countless lives to thwart the Thalmor and the Dominion.

"What's that knife-ear doing with you, Delphine?" Esbern glared at Ondolemar through the peek hole in his door. Delphine knew that they had both aged, but her heart fell when she saw how hard the years had been on him. He had to be closing in on the age of eighty now and though he hadn't a single hair on his head, a thick, messy beard adorned his jawline.

"He's one of the good guys…as far as that goes for his sort," Delphine assured him. "Look, just open the door and let us in."

"Yes, yes, but of course…" Esbern then glared at Ondolemar. "I'm watching you nasty. If you think you had your hands full with Delphine, you'll be in for something if you think you can pull something on me."

Delphine couldn't help but chuckle as Ondolemar's face showed his dismay but nevertheless patiently waited, crossing his arms over his chest while the old Nord disarmed the countless traps, "This will just take a moment!" unlocked all the locks, "Urgh, this one always sticks…" and dismissed the wards. And I thought she was paranoid…he thought when the door finally opened. "There we go. Come in. Just how did you find me and what do you want, Delphine?" Esbern asked. "Have you any idea how dangerous it is for us to be here together? Why are you even keeping up the fight after all these years? I told you so many times years ago that it is hopeless by now."

Ondolemar briefly pondered the old Nord's sanity as he went off a tangent, but Delphine just gave him a look to let it go for now. "Haven't you figured it out yet?" Esbern glared at Ondolemar, "Even not your 'superior-bred' lot? What more needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on?! Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said!"

Esbern's room in the Ratway Warrens was most unpleasant, least to say and as she looked around while he rambled, Delphine wondered not only how he had been able to stow away here for Divines knew how long, but also how it had kept him sane.

"They wouldn't listen. Fools." Esbern muttered while he skipped through the pages of his journal. "No one can escape Alduin, who devours the souls of the dead even in the afterlife until nothing is left. Nothing can stop him…"

"Wait!" Delphine said. "Alduin…Ganir mentioned that name. We saw him raise another dragon in Kynesgrove."

"Yes! Yes!" Though he had looked so old and tired before, the old Blade now seemed renewed and alive. "But though you have seen ,you still do not understand, Delphine!"

Ondolemar scoffed, skeptical. "You're talking about the literal end of the world?"

"Oh, yes. It's all been foretold. It has already begun with Alduin's return." Esbern replied. "Only a Dragonborn can stop him, but none has been known to be in centuries." The old Nord sighed. "It seems that the gods have grown tired of us and left us to our fate."

"It's not hopeless Esbern, that's why I'm here!" Delphine exclaimed. "I found the Dragonborn!"

"What…?" Esbern blinked in disbelief. "A Dragonborn after all this time? Then we must…We must-,"

"Go to the College of Winterhold," Ondolemar grit out through clenched teeth. The inane rambling between the two Blades and the stench of the Warrens made his head pound and nauseous. "You can enjoy your little bonding as you catch up on the way there. There's no time to waste. They are waiting."

"Yes, yes, but of course!" Esbern frantically began opening cabinets and drawers as he gathered his things. "Give me…Give me just a moment. I must gather a few things."

Ondolemar rubbed his temples with a sigh. This was going to be a long trip.


Edit: I'm terribly sorry, I had to make an edit when I realized I had forgotten about Gissur. Woops. Sloppy n.n;

Before I woosh off again to write the next chapter, I want to thank you all for reading, favouriting, following and leaving your comments and reviews. It's really appreciated and I look forward to them. It's always nice to see people enjoy something you make.

I know, another most heavy and loaded chapter but it's not the end. I assure you, without spoiling too much.