Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know! (though a review or comment is always better!)

Posted February 27, 2014.

SUMMARY: Harry retreats to Riften, where he finds comfort in a new family of sorts; Harry helps Mazhe with a major Guild assignment; and a job assignment for Mazhe in August/Last Seed ends unexpectedly...

22: 17 LAST SEED
26 Mid-year – 17 Last Seed, 4E201

Harry and Tommy were ejected out of the fireplace rather roughly. Harry brandished his wand at the fireplace, gripping it so tightly it was vibrating in his hand.

"REDUCTO!"

There was a terrible explosion, as bricks, mortar and debris went in all directions, the fireplace being violently blasted from the wall. It was as if Harry had directed all of his wrath at the inanimate object. Tommy had known enough to cover himself against the violence, and so was not harmed. He'd seen Harry angry before, but this... was above and beyond. Of course, in the circumstance, Tommy was practically in the same boat, for exactly the same reason.

"Unslaad Tahrodiis!(1)" Harry snarled, then made a nasty face. "Nust fen ni meyz het.(2)"

"What?"

"MEY! TAHRODIIS!(3)" Harry thundered again, as his world seemed to come crashing down around him.

"Harry? By... by the eight! What happened?!" Tolfdir cautiously approached the young mage, alarmed at the destruction.

"Tahrodiis," Harry said again, his voice shaky, "Tahrodiis."

"T-treachery," Tolfdir remembered. "What happened?"

"Nok. Nax. Vul Tahrodiis.(4)" Harry sucked in several deep breaths. "Lies. They..." he let out a growl. "Aav dilon, meyye!"

He sank to his knees, still feeling the rage coursing through his veins.

Tommy, at this point, was nearly volcanic himself, feeling every bit as enraged and betrayed as Harry was, but finally found his voice.

"Valicadia... they... they're why I'm here. Why I'm with Harry. Why my brother and my pop are dead. Why I'm nineteen rather than twenty-nine." His voice was calm, but to look into the guy's eyes, there was a fiery rage lurking just below the surface.

"They can all fuck off and die," Harry finally snarled, at last speaking the common language.

"G-get... Harry... get grounded. Plan, right?"

"What plan?!" Harry laughed, looking half-mad at this point. "Everything I know or did now... every sense of safety, security, truth... has been twisted and blown from here to Timbuktu!"

"I am truly sorry," Tolfdir apologized, "Whatever you might need, the College is here for you."

"Thank you, Tolfdir."

Harry collected himself, willing himself to calm down. Tommy was right. He needed a level head to think things through a bit more. No doubt the Commonwealth would be trying to get in touch with him.

"Phones off."

"Right." Tommy pulled out his phone and turned it off, as Harry did the same thing.

"If the Commonwealth calls, tell them to go to hell. They're not welcome here."

"I'll let the others know."

"Thank you, sir." Harry was regaining his centre, able to think a little more clearly.

"Let's get out of here. Mazhe's in the Flagon isn't he?" Tommy suggested.

"Hopefully. Good thinking." Harry glanced around the room and gestured with his wand, vanishing the rubble. "Sorry about the, uh, mess."

"You had all the right in the world," said Tolfdir. "The pair of you do be safe." He gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze, before leaving the room.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. Uh... wait. Port key. You'll splinch us."

"Right." Harry snatched up an empty ink bottle, and touched it with his wand. "Portus."

Moments later, they landed in a whirl of limbs just outside the Ragged Flagon. Dirge was momentarily startled by the arrival, but relaxed, realizing it was Harry and Tommy. They were met only seconds later by Mazhe.

"Harry. Justin—"

"Can fuck off and die," Harry finished, venomously.

"But..."

"The Commonwealth is the reason we were nearly killed in Atlantic City. They're why Tommy's with us!" Harry seethed, "The lot of them can go to hell."

"Oh. C'mon. Goldenglow will have to wait until morning. Vekel! A round of your specials!" Mazhe called out, as he guided his two friends to a table.

"Need to see everyone's phone a 'sec," said Tommy, pulling his mobile out. He was working the buttons quickly.

"What for?" Delvin asked.

"Got some numbers to block. How the fuck's this shit still working though?"

"Don't know. They won't be coming through the fireplace though," Harry muttered, pulling out his own mobile and putting it on the table. Delvin and Vex brought theirs over, and Delvin asked, "Your Commonwealth is an enemy then?"

"What about your school friends?"

"Look. All I know, is a place I thought truly looked out for me... was just like my place of birth. The very people supposed to watch out for us were involved in some dark plot—that killed hundreds of people, including his brother and father," Harry snarled, gesturing toward Tommy. "Never... nothing I've seen here, done here... could amount to something like that. And to think... we trusted them to watch our backs. Tahrodiis mey. Treacherous fools."

"Mazhe, good, you've—" Brynjolf had just stepped into the Flagon from the Cistern, mobile in hand. "Just the lad I wanted to see," he said, spotting Harry. "These aren't working anymore."

"That solves that," Tommy muttered.

"Port key button should still work."

"I did blow up the fireplace back at the College," said Harry.

"But if that disrupted the connection, it should've been instant," Mazhe countered.

"Got no clue. Some of the shit the Commonwealth can do still has me in the dark... and now quite honestly I could care less."

"Something else happened," Brynjolf guessed.

"Found out some terrible truths about people I thought were friends," Harry answered, not looking up. It was then Vekel brought over a platter of small mugs filled with a dark liquid.

"Thank you," said Tommy, claiming one of the mugs. Mazhe had the right idea: get totally blitzed. It would make them forget, at least for a little while. Harry, meanwhile, spoke in a dangerous tone.

"Be it known that the Commonwealth of Valicadia is considered an enemy to us, as are all who act as agents of them. They should not be welcome here."

"With Harry," said Tommy.

"Agreed. With Harry," said Mazhe, "I don't know all the details, but... I was there."

"And your friend set up outside of Riften?" Vex asked.

"No. He's an honorary godfather, not involved in this. He's still most certainly a friend." Harry took a deep drink from his mug. "Anyone else..."

"They're no longer welcome here," said Vekel.

"Would've been good if the phones still worked though," said Tommy, "They would've been able to give us a heads-up if someone did show up here."

"The connection back to your own world, is it still there?" Brynjolf wondered.

"Blown into a million pieces. So no, they won't be coming in that way."

"But it's not the only way they can come here," said Mazhe, "They have the Orb of Magnus."

"Yeah, they could still show up. The College of Winterhold will be sure to give them a lovely welcome," said Harry, nastily, "I know Enthir alone can be very creative."

"Shor's bones, I don't ever remember seeing you this stirred up, lad," said Brynjolf, shaking his head.

"Stabbed in the back by people he trusted, 'bryn," said Delvin, "You don't do that to family."

"Aye, you don't." Brynjolf scratched the back of his head. "Drink up, then come into the Cistern, we can provide you pair a place to rest."

"Thank you," said Tommy.

Of course, it wouldn't be the first time they'd crashed in the den of thieves. Now, though, it was likely to become a more long-term arrangement. He could already guess where Harry was headed, having violently and forcibly removed the connection back to their own world.

No, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch to see the young wizard settle into a life with the Guild. And honestly, Harry didn't really do anything too bad, mostly sticking to the stuff that had honest intentions and outcomes.

Sometime later, neither Tommy nor Harry were in any condition to do a whole lot. Vekel's special concoctions were nearly poisonous with their potency. So neither of them were exactly conscious, when they were quite literally carried into the Cistern, and deposited on a pair of vacant beds.

"Tahrodiis..." Harry muttered, and rolled over.

"What sort of language is that?" Brynjolf asked, as they walked away.

"Dragon tongue."

Brynjolf arched an eyebrow. "The lad speaks the ancient language?"

"Only bits and pieces. He's been learning since he was seven or eight. And you know Farengar, the court wizard of Whiterun?" At the Guild second's nod, Mazhe continued, "He gave Harry a stack of books covering the ancient dragon lore, including some of the language. He doesn't use it much since not too many others know what it means."

"It might be a fortunate thing, a silver lining, this turn of events. Harry might make us a lot more coin."

"That won't happen, 'Bryn. I know him too well, he won't blatantly break the law without a good reason. Never mind his friend who's still here."

"Moved here after that unfortunate incident in Rain's Hand. I remember."

"Knowing Harry, it's likely he'll probably move there. He won't ever impose on us."

"He's not imposing-"

"He'll feel it is." Mazhe lowered his voice. "Not to mention, Mercer doesn't exactly make him feel welcome."

"Aye, but that's the way he is with everyone."

"And until Harry understands that he'll want to sleep elsewhere... come to think of it, you've seen his chest. I'm surprised they didn't use it... though he was out of sorts when he came in. I still can't believe..." Mazhe shook his head and flipped the hair out of his face. Indeed, treachery on a grand scale.

"Lots to think about. And you need some rest. You need to be sharp on that island."

"I know, 'Bryn. I've spoken to Vex already. And if Harry's here... I'll see if he might like to come along. He might be able to talk to Aringoth and figure out what's going on."

"Agreed. Just be careful."

Far earlier than expected, Harry found himself being shaken awake.

"Harry? Here. Hangover cure, and a pepper-up potion."

"Wha... what for?" Harry mumbled, though he accepted both items. It was a good idea, as his head seemed to be about five times its normal size, and every noise seemed to cause head-splitting pain. The potions did their job, and in less than a minute, he was feeling more than perky.

"Unh... what about me?" Tommy mumbled, from the next bed over. He felt just as bad. He found another set of potions pushed into his hand, and he consumed both.

Harry, meanwhile, swung his legs over the side of the bed, then gestured at himself, instantly changing his clothes.

"Might want to change again. Where's your Guild armour?"

"What for?"

"You're coming with me on a little assignment," Mazhe answered.

Tommy looked at Harry. "Go for it. Leave the chest, I can do shit in the projection room until you get back."

"I'll be bringing the chest with me. Here." Harry produced it and re sized it. Then, as soon as Tommy had climbed in and closed the lid, he picked it back up, shrunk it back down, and put it in his pocket. Another gesture of his hand, and he again changed outfits, this time to his Guild armour.

"Thing that always confuses me. How is it when you change your outfit, you don't have to empty your pockets?"

"No clue, Mazhe. Some of it's just in the intent. Now I have to remember where things end up and so on, but whatever I'm carrying ends up moved to the outfit I'm wearing."

The distraction was a good thing, as they walked the road heading west along the south shore of Lake Honrich. Having already known where Goldenglow Estate was, they could have easily Apparated there, but that would risk alerting the mercenaries of their arrival. From what Vex had told Mazhe, the place had at least eight outside, and at least four more inside the house itself.

Once they arrived at the bridge, they split up. Harry would enter the house and take care of the safe, while Mazhe would deal with the bee hives. When it was explained exactly what they were going to do, Harry was somewhat resistant, until Mazhe explained that he only needed to recover the paperwork from the safe in the residence. The Guild wasn't interested in stealing the property, but only having a look at the documents. For that matter, Mazhe suggested, simply duplicate the documents.

That much, Harry could do. He cast a strong warming charm on himself, for even though the sun was pretty strong at this time of year, the lakes, streams, and rivers in Skyrim were always ice cold, with their sources all high in the mountains. He then stuck the re breather in his mouth, and stepped into the frigid water. All of the items on his person had been spelled to be waterproof, and so the only thing that actually got wet was his armour.

The swim was relatively fast, and given he was able to swim close to the bottom, he came up undetected, and crawled ashore. After spelling himself dry, he then pulled out his invisibility cloak, and threw it over himself. He vanished. Seconds later, if anyone could see the front door to the house, they would have seen it open of its own accord, only to close a few moments later.

Inside, the now invisible wizard crept silently along several corridors, right past three unsuspecting mercenaries. He knew that if they spotted him, it would be a fight to the death, and Harry certainly wouldn't hesitate. Mercenaries, bandits, thugs, they were all lumped together in the same boat in his book. Only useful with an arrow or an ice spike shoved through their eye socket.

He arrived at a cage with a door on the other side leading somewhere—he guessed the basement. No surprise, the cage was locked. He would come back to that after, since as he turned, he caught a glimpse of a staircase going up.

The top floor of the building turned out to contain the master bedroom, in which lay the estate's owner, still sound asleep. Harry quickly erected several silencing charms, so not to alert the mercenaries in the rest of the house, then lowered the hood of his cloak—the idea was to actually talk to Aringoth, right? Now that he knew he could take his time, he glanced around the room, looking for possible hiding places for keys, or the safe itself.

He was startled when the owner woke up suddenly.

"Never should have come here," Aringoth spoke, menacingly, and Harry was forced to duck, as the Altmer(6) flung a shiny object directly at his head.

"Stupefy!" Harry hissed, arm flung out at the angry Altmer. He flopped back onto the bed, stunned. Harry's eyes flicked to the object Aringoth had tried to attack him with. It was in the shape of a bee, about the size of a Quaffle, and likely made of solid gold.

"I'll be taking this," Harry muttered, collecting the small statue, and shoving it in his satchel.

When Aringoth regained consciousness, he found an angry young man with dark hair and emerald green eyes sitting on him, glaring at him. Several drops of a clear liquid were dripped into his mouth.

"We'll wait a few moments for that to get to work, then I got a few nice questions for you," the assailant smirked.

Already, Aringoth could feel his mind falling into a calm state, as though he should trust this person explicitly, and answer all his questions with complete honesty.

The stranger smiled again. "Where's the safe?"

"In the basement," Aringoth found himself answering obediently. 'What sort of magic was this?!' He protested in his head.

"Who bought the estate from you?"

"I... don't know. It was an Argonian who paid me for it."

"Great. You've been somewhat helpful." The stranger reached into his pocket, and for a second, Aringoth believed he might breath his last. His fear did not subside as the stranger drew out another vial.

"Antidote. Only need to place a couple of drops. Open." The stranger commanded. He did so, and the stranger let three cloudy drops fall on his tongue. It might as well have been water, there was no taste.

"Lie to me. Are you a Bosmer?"

"Yes," Aringoth answered, still unsure of what was about to happen. Compliance might let him see another dawn, and so he did so.

"Excellent. Now. Can't have you remembering who I am..." the stranger hopped off the bed, and in one motion, threw some sort of cloak over himself, and literally vanished.

"One last thing," came a disembodied voice, "OBLIVIATE!"

In his haze, Aringoth saw the door to his room open, then close moments later on its own.

Back on the main floor, standing in front of the cage, Harry pointed a finger at the lock. "Alohomora."

Click. He was in within seconds, down the stairs, and across the room below. Down another set of stairs, along a short hall, he arrived in another small room. In one corner stood the safe in question. Another unlocking charm had the door open, and he fished out the stack of parchments. He quickly made copies, then stashed the originals back in the safe. There was a great pile of money there, but he wouldn't touch it. This was about the documents, and the documents only, taking the bee statue had been a consequence to Aringoth's attack, and it would be the only thing he would be stealing this day. Pocketing the duplicated documents, he gave a slight twist, and popped away.

He landed outside, in front of the main doors to the house—the same spot from which he'd entered. Still with his cloak hiding him from view, he took off across the island, to see how Mazhe was doing. From the smoke, he'd already set fire to two of the hives.

Unfortunately, the mercenaries had taken notice, and were closing on his position. A diversion, then. He gave another twist, and popped away with a noisy CRACK.

"Who's there?" a nearby mercenary shouted, turning about. Three of his partners followed suit, looking for the source of the noise. There came another noisy crack from just across the bridge linking the main island with the one containing the bee hives. Mazhe had just set fire to the third hive.

Crack. Harry landed a few feet from his friend.

"Done?"

"Gods, Harry... where are you?" Mazhe asked. He felt a hand grip him on the shoulder. "Yeah. Done."

"Hold on then." The pair of them popped away with another noisy crack.

They landed in a small alcove just inside the Cistern.

"We need to find Brynjolf."

"The Flagon, then," Harry guessed, to which Mazhe gave a nod, and pushed open the door which led into the pub.

As expected, Brynjolf was seated at one of the tables with Delvin. Harry grinned and placed the duplicated documents on the table.

"This is what I found in the safe. It's a copy, and as far as Aringoth is concerned, he won't remember I was there."

Brynjolf set down his tankard, and picked up the stack of parchment.

"Did you have a look?"

"No. None of this would make any sense to me, really," Harry answered, with a shrug. "Of course, he wasn't exactly happy when he found me in his bedroom. Tried to brain me with this..." Harry reached into his satchel, and pulled out the golden statue. "This worth anything, Delvin?"

"Well, well. I was looking for this little beauty," the Breton answered, looking quite pleased, as Harry handed the object over, "Always looking for unusual trinkets like this." Delvin reached into one of the many pouches on his armour, and pulled out a bag of coins. "I think this should be more than fair."

"Thank you." Harry stowed the coin bag away.

Brynjolf, meanwhile, made a face. "Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What was that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal, but I'm certain he'll find out... If only this parchment had the buyer's name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?"

"Sorry. Aringoth did mention it was an Argonian who brokered the deal, but nothing else." Harry peered over Brynjolf's shoulder to see the odd symbol he was looking at. It was simply a dagger with a black spot behind it.

"Blast. I'll check with my sources and talk to Mercer. Well done, lads." He indicated two coin bags on the table in front of him. "Your pay."

"Thanks, 'bryn," Mazhe grinned, collecting one of them, while Harry collected the other.

Mazhe thought for a moment. "Uh, Harry. Might want to let Tommy out."

"Right."

It was after dinner before they reappeared outside the chest. Given the early-morning wake-up and so on, the normal morning routine had been tossed out the window. Tommy, naturally, made sure they got caught up. Maintaining a beefy frame was no small amount of work.

The evening found Harry parked at a table, casually observing the Marauders' Map, a tankard of mead off to one side. There were very few reasons Harry wished to be at Hogwarts, but he did miss his friends. Did they know what happened yesterday? Would they be angry at him for just—running away? Was he running away? What was he really doing here?

"'s a shame that map can't watch more interesting locations." Harry looked up to see Delvin watching over his shoulder.

"Very true. Right now it just gives me a bit of comfort to know my friends are still well—though probably not all that happy with me."

"If they're good friends, they'll understand."

"I hope so."

Harry thought for a moment, then scowled a moment, seeing Dumbledore's dot appear. How was it the man could just appear anywhere? It was impossible to Apparate within the school, right?

"My godfather left a stack of parchments and journals when he... when he died in April—Rain's Hand, I mean. I'm still looking through all that stuff, but likely there'll be something about the map in there. And Remus did help make it. So we might be able to come up with something more useful."

"Bein' able to case a place, know who's about, before we risk life and limb. Would be a great benefit."

"Even better if it would work on Draugr and ghosts—though this works on ghosts..."

Harry tapped the map. "Show me Sir Nicholas."

The map seemed to flip itself around, as the image shifted to a location near the Gryffindor dormitory. The ghost's dot was indicated a little heavier than the throng of students in and about the area.

"He's a ghost tied to Gryffindor. He's haunted the school for over five hundred years."

3 Last Seed, 4E201

Well over a month had passed since Harry and Tommy cut themselves off from the Commonwealth and everyone else back on Earth. There had been not a single peep from anyone, and some part of him was disappointed. Just a small part, though. The sting of betrayal had only barely begun to fade.

Three days prior had been a day filled with lots of food, drink, and merriment, considering it had been Harry's sixteenth birthday. Remus had once again paid a lovely young lady to see to Tommy's nieces, and so was able to attend the party. The Ragged Flagon had pretty much become Harry's home at this point—he'd set up his chest in a spot out of the way and spent most of his nights there. Given things were made to be more than comfortable, Tommy spent his nights there as well. After all, it had been set up somewhat like a flat.

To the present, Mazhe, Harry, and Tommy were just cleaning up after their morning workout.

"Still no word on that strange symbol we found at Goldenglow?" Harry wondered, as he got changed.

"No, nothing. Mercer's still looking into it I guess," Mazhe answered, with a shrug. "As Brynjolf suspected, Maven's in a right fury about it though. Aringoth's lucky he's still breathing. Though knowing how she works, he'll wish he's dead by the time she's finished."

"You guys know she's a bitch, right?" Tommy threw in.

"Don't let the guys in the Guild hear you say that, but yeah, pretty much. We put up with her 'cause she's the reason the Guild's stayed afloat this long."

"If we can grow our influence a bit more, maybe we can get rid of her. The Guild needs to be able to stand on its own, not have some old crow as a crutch. She reminds me of Umbridge for some reason."

"Ouch. Bad visual, Harry."

Pop. Harry produced his wand and readied an ice-spike, startled by the arrival. He relented, realizing who it was.

"Dobby?! Gods..."

"Dobby is happy to see Harry and his friends well!" the elf exclaimed. He then hesitated a moment, considering things very carefully before he proceeded.

"Uh, Dobby?"

"Dobby is wondering how to begin... Dobby knows Harry Potter sir is feeling terribly betrayed, but Dobby is being asked to deliver you a package. But Harry Potter sir must promise to see its contents first before—"

"Who sent you?" Tommy practically demanded.

"Justin is being terribly upset at what has happened, he be swearing up and down that he is being ready to quit the government. Justin is wanting his friend back, Harry Potter sir."

Harry blew out a breath. "I... let me see the package."

Dobby snapped his fingers, and a medium-sized package appeared on the table they were using. Opening it up, he found an odd-looking device that somewhat resembled their mobile phones, as well as several letters. The first one was from Justin.

Harry,

I know apologizing for what's happened won't ever make it right, but do know, I am truly sorry. We are all human, we all make mistakes. I hope you can keep that in mind, as you deal with the unfortunate reality we have put you in. Know that the Government of Valicadia absolutely did not sanction the action which put us all into such grave danger nearly two years ago.

As it stands, we believe it to be the work of a terrorist organization who managed to subjugate members of the S.O.U. into doing their bidding. As to how that happened, the government is still investigating. We'll learn the truth, to both prevent it from happening again, and to give you and Tommy a bit of closure in that respect.

Your friends back at Hogwarts are aware of what happened, and all of them are more than supportive of you, no matter what you choose to do. They were more than vocal about the situation, and I can tell you, miss Granger's hexes are rather painful. They've all included letters, and they all express hopes you'll stay in contact, now that you have a way in which to do so. And I guess I'm kind of hoping you'll keep me in the loop as well. I'm your friend too, Harry. I'll quit my job if that's what it takes.

I hope you're well, and do stay safe,

Justin

Part of Harry wanted to shred the letter into tiny pieces, while another... was sincerely touched by his words. It was the latter which won out, and he simply passed the letter over to Tommy, while he read the others. Hermione, Ron, the twins, Ginny, and even Neville had sent letters, all of them expressing sorrow and support, much as Justin had mentioned.

There were two additional letters included in the pile, one of which bore the seal of the Ministry of Education. He had a good idea of what this one might be.

"Mazhe? Harry?" Came Delvin's voice, from the corner where the lid access was.

"Err... we're on our way, just, something's come up," Harry answered.

"Take the time you need."

"Great." Harry turned his attention back to the letter. He broke the seal, and pulled the paper from the envelope.

Government of Valicadia, Ministry of Education

Examinations Division

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defence against the Dark Arts: O

Ancient Runes: E

Herbology: E

History of Magic: A

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

"What is it?" Tommy asked.

"My O.W.L. Scores."

"How'd you do?" Mazhe asked.

"Passed everything. Astronomy and History of Magic were a little low, but, I got by. I mean, we did have a ghost for a teacher in History. Even with the extra self-study, and Remus' help, it didn't help a whole lot."

"Won't mean much though, right?" Tommy pointed out, "You being 'you' and all..."

"I'd rather earn a job, rather than have it handed to me. Though, given I'll likely not be returning to Earth permanently, these won't mean a whole lot anyway. I guess I'm happy with what I received, all considering."

Harry folded the paper and stuffed it back in its envelope, then put it back in the box with the odd instrument. He left the final note on the top.

"Dobby. Do you mind sticking around? I'd rather you not be somehow coerced into working against us."

"Dobby is pleased to help out, Harry Potter sir."

"Perfect. In fact, I have a few friends you've seen already who might like to have some help cleaning."

To Dobby, it once again looked like Christmas-come-early.

10 Last Seed, 4E201

A week had passed since Dobby had shown up. The Ragged Flagon was by this point unrecognizable. The excitable house elf had become a blur of activity, as the place was cleaned from top to bottom. To a stranger seeing it for the first time, the place no longer resembled a sewer, even if the architecture said otherwise. Every surface had been cleaned to nearly a shine—and those surfaces that were supposed to shine—they did. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling had all been replaced, and now the place was lit by dozens of ever-burn candles, replacing the dim lights with a warm cheery glow. The rotten woodwork prominent throughout the space had been either repaired or replaced, as had a lot of the furniture. It was an extreme makeover.

"Any chance we can have him fix the Cistern?" Delvin wondered aloud.

"Ask him. He likes the work," Harry answered, with a shrug. They'd just come back from the morning training session. Given the advanced capabilities of the Virtual Projection Room in Harry's chest, Delvin had it conjure up some live targets in the interest of teaching.

"You sure he wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all."

"Mind what?" Mazhe asked. He'd just come in from the Cistern.

"Delvin's wondering if we could ask Dobby to clean up the Cistern."

"Mercer might have a fit though."

"Let me deal with Mercer," said Delvin, "Mazhe. Got two errands for 'ya. One's in Markarth, the other's in Solitude. Ain't that right, Vex?"

"If he's up for it, why not?" Vex muttered from her spot at the bar.

"Sure. The targets?"

"Vex?" Delvin prompted.

"A client's uncle lost a family heirloom in a gambling match and they're paying us to get it back. So much for fair play, huh?"

Mazhe grinned and let out a chuckle. "What's it look like?"

"It's a gold jewelled amulet, with a stamina fortifying enchantment on it," Vex answered, glancing at a parchment in front of her, "It was sold to the Bits and Pieces, a general shop in Solitude."

"Mine involves a bit 'o writin' in Markarth," said Delvin, glancing at his own set of parchments, "I need you to make corrections to the business ledger in Arnleif & Sons Trading Company."

"It'll take me a couple of days," said Mazhe, holding out a hand for the parchment.

"Keep your mobile on so we can keep in touch," said Harry, while Delvin passed over the parchment. Mazhe knew it would contain the details on what needed to be changed and why. He then collected the parchment from Vex, and was gone through the back hallway which led into the Cistern.

"Harry. 'meantime, I need you to run a package to Filnjar, the blacksmith in Shor's Stone," said Delvin, gesturing to a shoebox-sized package sitting on the table in front of him.

"I won't ask what's in it," Harry grinned.

"No, better you don't."

"Shor's Stone... that small mining settlement north of Fort Greenwall ain't it?" asked Tommy.

"That would be the place," Harry answered, "Coming?"

16 Last Seed, 4E201

Mid-afternoon found Harry and Tommy speaking to an elderly Khajiit merchant just outside the gates of Whiterun. It was a well-known, unspoken rule that the cat-like humanoids were not allowed inside of the major cities (although it irritated Harry—racism at its finest and all that).

"You approach us as if you know us, stranger. How can I help you?"

"Are you Ri'saad?"

"Yes," Ri'saad answered, leaning forward. He had long greying hair, and from what parts of his body were not covered by clothing, he was mostly a dark grey colour with some tan markings. He spoke with a heavy, strange accent.

"Tonilia sent me to speak to you about setting up some sort of agreement."

"Yes, I've heard the Thieves Guild is rising back to power. An alliance would be beneficial to both parties. I'll consider the offer, but I'll have to discuss it with the other caravans."

Harry reached into his satchel, and pulled out a small bag. "Tonilia also asked me to give you this."

"Ah, moon sugar," said Ri'saad, looking suddenly very pleased, "I am pleased with this offer, and we accept." He took the small bag. "Tell the leaders of your guild we look forward to a prosperous and profitable future." He paused, then said, "If you happen upon any of our caravans in your travels, we'd also be more than willing to pay you a fair sum for any of your stolen goods."

"I'll be sure to let them know. Thank you Mr., err... Ri'saad," Harry grinned, with a nod of the head. The gesture was easily returned, along with a warm smile.

Instead of immediately returning to Riften, the group headed into the city proper, and up to Dragonsreach.

"Farengar," Harry greeted, as he stepped into the court-wizard's work area.

"Ah, Harry. What brings you in for a visit?"

"Had some, uh, other business here in Whiterun. How goes your research into the dovah?"

"Well... funny you should ask," said Farengar, indicating a hooded figure who appeared to be engrossed in a map laid out on the desk. "Delphine, may I introduce a friend?"

"Oh." The woman, Harry realized, looked up from the map she was studying. He couldn't very well make out her features due to the hood.

"This is Harry, and..."

"Tommy."

"Right, yes. Harry here has been studying some of the dragon language since he arrived here ten years ago," Farengar explained.

"I see," said Delphine. "Not from around here?"

"No, ma'am," Harry answered politely, "But this world is better than mine."

Delphine furrowed her brow. "Not from this world?"

"It's a long story," Harry grinned.

"Right. As we've been reviewing for the past few hours, an important piece to our research may be hidden in Bleak Falls Barrow," said Farengar, "It's a ruin just south of Whiterun."

"I know it," said Harry, "Riverwood's in its shadow. What would we be looking for?"

"A 'Dragonstone,' said to contain a map of dragon burial sites," Delphine interjected, "Have you done this sort of thing before?"

"Labyrinthian mean anything to you?" Tommy asked, scowling.

"Gods..."

Harry had great difficulty resisting the urge to smirk. The sprawling Nordic ruin had a notorious history, as he'd found out, doing research in the months he'd been back in Skyrim. Most people knew better than to tread close to it, with the undead who called it home. It's reputation was well and painfully earned.

"We're doing this then?" Tommy asked.

"Better than doing-"

"Right. Tell us what we need to know."

"The stone is likely interred in the main chamber. I need not warn you of what you will likely find inside, given your prior experience. But this is something that could benefit us greatly in our research," said Farengar.

"Tempus," Harry muttered, gesturing with a finger. '6:48 p' wafted from his fingertip. "We'll set out in the morning, give us the day to see to it."

"You're a mage," said Delphine, surprised.

"Been learning since I was seven," Harry answered.

"I would've taken you for a warrior."

"Looks can be deceptive, don't you agree?"

"Harry and friends, good to see you again." Harry turned around to find the Jarl and his brother framing the broad doorway.

"Good to see you as well, sir."

"It is getting on in the day, won't you come join us?"

"I'd be honoured. Uh, miss... Delphine... we'll be back hopefully tomorrow evening, is that suitable?"

"Just hurry back with the stone."

"I'll do my best."

Dinner with the Jarl and his court always proved to be a rather noisy affair. It certainly wasn't the first time Harry found himself in their company, although perhaps one of the few in which Mazhe wasn't there also.

"Tell me," Balgruuf asked, "Where is your older friend these days?"

"Off, uh, on a different assignment, sir," Harry answered. "Just like us. We had something to deliver."

"So I see."

"And what sort of business might that be?" asked the steward, from a few places down.

"Likely not the sort that should be discussed here, sir," Harry answered, coolly. That earned a frown from the steward.

"If you're interested in earning a few Septims, perhaps you might consider joining us then," said a burly Nord with a rough voice, from a few spaces even further down the table.

"Friends, this is Farkas, and Vignar Gray-mane, of the Companions," Balgruuf introduced. "Likewise, Harry, and... Tom, if I remember correctly?"

"Yeah," Tommy muttered.

"What sort of things do you guys do?" Harry asked.

"Not heard of the Companions, eh?"

"No sir," Harry answered.

"Sir... Gods, you're makin' me feel old," Farkas muttered.

He had a rough face with dark markings around his eyes, stringy black hair that fell to his shoulders, and thin facial hair that didn't quite qualify as a beard. A large broadsword was secured to his back, and he wore a set of common steel armour.

Vignar, on the other hand, had to be the oldest person at the table. He had brown skin, and a face creased many times over with the passage of time. He had a bushy moustache which was grey to match his hair, and his hair had been braided in several bunches.

"No offense meant, sir."

"What kind of things do the Companions do?" Tommy asked.

"We're an order of warriors," Vignar answered, "We are brothers and sisters in honour, and we show up to solve problems, if the coin is good enough."

"I wouldn't be happy with you guys. I have enough to fight as it is," answered Harry, "Fighting as a career? Not for me, thanks."

"An honest answer. Not everyone answers the call of the blade," said Vignar. That had a few around the table nodding along.

17 Last Seed, 4E201

The following morning arrived all too soon. Given their assignment was in Whiterun, they'd given Ri'saad a bag of coins for permission to set up the trunk near their campsite. The Khajiit were more than accommodating, and so it was just after 7 am that Harry and Tommy emerged from it. The day had dawned bright and warm, with not a single cloud overhead.

"Harry, check that out," said Tommy, pointing to something in the sky, making a track to the northeast. The object was dark, and if Harry guessed, it was too big to be an eagle.

"Odd. Definitely not an eagle, or a hawk." He mentally went through the list of animals in Skyrim who could fly. None of them matched what he was seeing, as the object grew smaller. Whatever it was, it was incredibly fast.

"What if-" Tommy's question was cut off by the ringing of Harry's mobile. He un-clipped it, opened it up, and pressed the button to complete the connection. "Mazhe?"

"Harry?! Thank Talos." Mazhe sounded in a panic, out of breath. "You... you guys come meet me at the sawmill in Riverwood immediately!" He didn't wait for an answer, and the connection was closed.

UP NEXT: Mazhe discovers something about himself during a battle with a creature long-believed extinct in Tamriel; Justin is reunited with the group due to the circumstances; and a trek to a ruin in the western part of the province in search of an ancient artefact has Mazhe fuming.

CHAPTER NOTES: It was going to happen eventually. The truth always comes out, and although the government certainly wanted to try and keep a lid on things, events happened far too quickly for them to get any sort of control on it. Now, we start more important events of the Skyrim time line, specifically the main quest, if the final date in this chapter is clue enough.

(1) "Unslaad Tahrodiis!": Unending/eternal Treachery

(2) "Nust fen ni meyz het.": They will not come here.

(3) "Meyye! Tahrodiis!" Fools! Treachery!

(4) "Nok. Nax. Vul Tahrodiis.": Lies. Cruelty. Dark Treachery

(6) Although the Guild members all refer to Aringoth as a Bosmer, he is actually an Altmer. This can be confirmed in the Creation Kit, a tool used to build mods for Skyrim.