Don't you hate it when life suddenly makes everything harder? Bleurgh. Anyway, here is the next chapter. I did a full rewrite because I wasn't happy with the original draft :)
This chapter is for Redchillismoke, who has been so supportive and helpful, especially when it comes to giving me ideas :) And for all, a big thanks for sticking around and waiting so patiently for me to update :D
Morgan ran her hands through her hair and stared at Serana, who gave her a small smile.
"You realise how...insane this all sounds?" Morgan asked her with a bemused grimace.
"You must admit, it does make alot of sense," Serana remarked, taking a sip of blood from her bottle.
"It is not as if stranger things has happened to you, from what Serana has told me," Shea agreed, looking up at her for a moment, her sword on her lap and her sharpening stone in her hand.
"But...Sheogorath is not only a Daedric Prince, but is also one of my relatives?" Morgan muttered.
"Think of it as being a mutual joining," Serana explained. "Sheogorath must have needed a champion at some point, and Lucinda had been the one to answer the summons...or the one that was successful at any rate. I have a feeling that they will be separated soon enough."
Morgan nodded. Her family did have odd connections after all.
My swordplay is derived from that of Akaviri and that of the Shadowscales. I am Dragonborn, and also a Daughter of Sithis. Why are you surprised that you have more secrets in your family tree?
She stared at her two travelling companions and nodded to them in thanks.
"We better get moving soon. If we are to get to Winterhold before sunrise..."
Serana jumped to her feet and smirked at Morgan.
"Then let us get moving. I want to see just what else has happened...that has had nothing to do with your antics."
Morgan snorted and threw a lump of snow at Serana, who yelped and glared at her as the snow dripped off her stunning cheekbones.
I am going to pay for that, but it was worth it.
Morgan ensured that her hood was covering her face as they walked through the centre of Winterhold. Serana had done the same, while Shea had forgone any facial coverings, and walked with them as though the cold didn't bother her.
Her mind was still whirling with the information that Serana had given to her. It seemed as though Lucinda was helping her in a way that would not implicate Sheogorath. Morgan knew that the Princes could only interfere with the affairs of Nirn in small ways...most of the time. But she also had a feeling that what she was doing would affect Lucinda in some way. Morgan did not know what, or even how she knew...she simply knew.
Morgan glanced at the College of Winterhold, most of the structure hidden by torrents of snowfall. She had been wondering what had happened here...the idea that two guards had been drained of their life force suggested a soul trap spell gone awry. But she could not shake the feeling that it was something much, much worse.
As they approached the entrance that would lead them to the bridge that connected Winterhold to the College itself, she noted that a large crowd was surrounding the pathway. And standing there all alone was the elderly mage Tolfdir, who was seemingly attempting to pacify what looked like an increasingly agitated mob.
"Jarl Korir, I assure you..."
"Don't start being all formal with me, mage! We all know this was your doing!" Jarl Korir roared at the top of his voice, spittle flying form his lips. "The Great Collapse was not enough for you, so you had to cause more destruction of this town!"
The crowd roared in approval, and the Jarl's chest puffed up a little more.
"Tell me, mage. What will you and that pitiful group within do when we all throw you out into the wilderness and take that infernal building apart?"
"Jarl Korir..." Tolfdir started, only to be cut off once more.
"You do NOT speak to me that way! Guards! Take this..."
And then he stopped as the air suddenly began to feel much colder. The crowd began to murmur as they all clutched at their clothing as the cold intensified. He frowned and pulled his hood over his head and looked at the crowd behind him as they began to part...revealing three people walking through them as though they were untouchable.
He had a bad feeling about this...
And when the lead member of this group lowered her hood to reveal a set of blazing eyes that rivalled the suns, and skin as white as the snow that fell around them all, Jarl Korir realised that whatever power he had was to be for naught.
"Talk to that man in that manner again and I assure you that it will be the last thing you ever do," Morgan hissed softly as she walked closer to the Jarl.
The four guards assigned to the Jarl's protection all formed ranks in front of him and drew their weapons. His faithful housecarl did the same, his massive steel warhammer held in firm hands. Jarl Korir smirked and regained his composure.
"Ah! The elusive Dragonborn has graced us with her...presence. Tell us, what are you..."
"For the love of Talos, shut the fuck up," Morgan said quietly, her thu'um making the ground quake slightly and forcing all attention onto her. "I did not come here to talk to a horker, nor to fight five men who have never seen what my friends and I can do in a fight...for I do not wish to stain my clothes with their blood this day."
She stalked closer and the five men backed away slightly, taking a single step back.
"If I wished it, I could kill all of you with a single whisper. I can move through time itself with a single command..."
Morgan held her hand on the hilt of her blade, and the gasps of the crowd began to grow.
"As if that were not enough, I could call some of my kin to reduce this shit-hole into ashes. After getting the women and children away of course, I am not a murderer like Ulfric Stormcloak after all."
A single guard yelled and charged...and was held in mid air as Morgan effortlessly grasped the man by the throat and bent his sword with her other hand and smiling at him.
"Very foolish, young man. Brave. But foolish. Luckily for you, I am in a good mood, so..."
Morgan dropped the guard and narrowed her eyes.
"Now. Get the fuck away from me."
The crowd dispersed quickly, most of the residents running into the tavern or the barracks. The Jarl was backed into the wooden wall of his Jarlhouse, and he shuddered as he glanced at the bent steel blade lying near his feet. He glanced upwards and instantly regretted it as the razor sharp tip of Morgan's blade hovered a bare inch from his right eye.
"Get back in that house and stay there while I deal with yet another mortal squabble," Morgan stated quietly.
He blinked, and she was already standing before Tolfdir, who gave her a gentle kiss of her hand. Jarl Korir frowned as she gave the mage a small smile and placed her hand on his shoulder. And that was when he realised that her words were true. He truly had no power after all.
"Morgan! It's...it is so good to see you again," Tolfdir said, taking Morgan's offered hand and giving it a gentle kiss. He smiled as she gave him one of her rarelt seen smiles of her own, and he made sure his breathing was steady as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It is so good to see you also, Tolfdir. It has been too long for my liking. You remember Serana of course. And this is Shea, she is...a new friend."
Tolfdir gave both women a small smile, and Serana pouted.
"Morgan gets a kiss and not me? Tolfdir, you old dog, I am hurt."
Serana grinned as the elderly mage took her hand and kissed it, but he refrained when he noted the bemused expression of Shea, who held her hand out for him to shake. He did as asked before turning his attention to Morgan.
"You have heard what happened I expect?"
"Only that two guards were killed, nothing more. What is going on?"
Tolfdir hesitated before motioning for the three women to follow him.
"It would be easier to show and tell you inside before my bones shatter. By the way...that cold spell just then. Was that you?"
Morgan grinned at him, and he could not suppress the small quiver that ran down the back of his spine at the sight of her fangs. She was a dear friend, he knew that. But she also had a darkness to her that he could not explain. He hoped that she would take the news of the recent events just as calmly as she had done while dealing with the Jarl of Winterhold.
The first thing that Morgan noticed was the signs of battle throughout the College. Numerous fire and frost marks were marking the walls, and she could also see a few blood stains scattered on the floors, walls, and in one case, the ceiling. She raised her eyebrows and Tolfdir took a breath, his throat moving slightly as he forced his muscles to swallow.
"As you can see, we have had some issues..."
"Issues? Not the term I would use," came a voice from the left doorway.
Morgan nodded to Mirabelle, who gave her a strained smile in return, before she leaned against the wall. Morgan frowned and then smelled the blood. She moved forward and ignored the mage's protest, turning the woman slightly so that the bloodstain on the woman's back could be seen.
"It isn't as bad as... ahhhhhhh!" Mirabelle hissed as Morgan's hands erupted in golden light.
Morgan shook her head.
"Another fifteen minutes or so and you would have been unconscious. Another ten, and you would be in Aetherium. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"The students had to come...OW! First..." Mirabelle finished weakly, slumping against Morgan, who continued her healing spell as though nothing had happened.
"That shouldn't mean you try and kill yourself," Morgan said softly.
Mirabelle sighed and she clung to Morgan.
"It is good to see you here..."
Morgan nodded.
"Tolfdir. Tell me everything."
Tolfdir nodded and sat down on the bench, pressing his fingers into his forehead for a moment.
"You recall Ancano? The Thalmor 'advisor' that was removed from the grounds some time ago? He returned with a group of Thalmor two nights ago."
"They must have come here for a reason," Serana said thoughtfully.
"We found an artefact a month ago. It was ancient, possibly thousands of years old. A sphere, glowing blue and green that radiated gigantic waves of magic we could not begin to guess at."
Serana narrowed her eyes.
"The Eye of Magnus. I was taught many years ago about this. A dangerous object indeed."
Tolfdir blinked a few times and then nodded.
"I am amazed you heard about it, but yes, it turned out to be the Eye. The Thalmor must have heard about our expedition to Saarthal where it had been buried and came to claim it."
"They failed by the looks of it, although the Eye does not seem to be here," Morgan remarked as she moved Mirabelle to the bench and eased her onto it before meeting Tolfdir's gaze.
Tolfdir nodded.
"It was taken...but not by the Thalmor."
"Then who took it? Such a dangerous item in the wrong hands..." Serana trailed off as she spotted another figure approach them.
Tolfdir stood up and shook the figure's hand and turned to Morgan.
"Morgan, meet Quaranir. He said you would be coming."
Morgan narrowed her eyes at the man who gave her a smile. She had never met this man, she would have remembered a man wearing orange and yellow robes and a set of eyes that seemed much older than his facial features appeared.
"I hope someone tells me what happens before I start shouting," Morgan growled.
Quaranir moved slowly as he approached the Dragonborn. He knew just how dangerous and how volatile this person could be. He had been watching her for many years after all. He had seen her entire upbringing, trapped into a life of fear under Thalmor rule. He had watched as she claimed her heritage as the Last Dragonborn and became a symbol of hope and fear all over Skyrim and beyond.
But he had not seen how she had changed.
For Morgan had moved impossibly fast and was now holding him by the throat, her fangs fully extended as she snarled at him. He clutched at her steel grip and gasped for air as she stared at him.
"I don't think he can talk if he is being choked, my love," Serana said softly, placing a hand on Morgan's wrist.
Quaranir coughed as he was released and gave a soft chuckle before holding his hands up in a placating manner.
"Forgive me, Dragonborn. I mean you nor anyone here any harm. I shall explain everything."
Morgan crossed her arms and he stared into her eyes as best as he could.
"The Thalmor were almost successful but my organisation arrived just in time to thwart them. We helped with the casualties as best we could..."
"Yet you did not see that Mirabelle's intestines were almost hanging out," Morgan hissed angrily.
Quaranir nodded again.
"I know, and I apologise. We were never meant to interfere at all..."
"Just who the fuck are you?" Morgan asked impatiently.
"Ah, I forgot myself as always. Quaranir of the Psijic Order."
Morgan frowned.
"I thought that was a myth. The island you were said to have inhabited vanished."
"Hidden," Quaranir explained. "We are never meant to interfere with Nirn at all in most cases. Sometimes we show ourselves to certain individuals if needed."
"So you took this 'Eye' and plan to do what with it, exactly?"
"Keep it hidden until the power is ready to be wielded by those deserving and powerful enough to use it responsibly."
Morgan snorted.
May have to wait a few thousand years before that ever happens.
"You said you knew I was coming...how?"
"I need to keep some secrets. Let me say that we do have friends who can read the Elder Scrolls and leave it at that. You have read a few yourself as I recall..."
Morgan glared at him, and he stepped backwards, grateful that Serana still held Morgan's wrist.
"Every time I try and sleep like any mortal would, I always see those fucking symbols in my head. I see strange new worlds, past, present and future. I keep seeing a woman with red hair and yellow eyes staring back at me as though I should know her. I see how the Thalmor rose to power so fast thanks to the blindness of the provinces that bordered on their lands..."
Morgan clenched Serana's hand tightly.
"I see battles from the past, and what seem to be from the future as well...I see myself as a fucking Queen, with...with people kneeling before me, asking me to feed off of them."
Serana pulled Morgan into her embrace and she nodded to Quaranir.
"I need to take care of her, she has been through far too much for someone so young. We can continue this conversation tomorrow, if that suits everyone?"
Shea came forwards and took Morgan's hand and pulled her away from Serana and led her out of the room. Serana watched them leave and then stormed over to pin Quaranir to the wall.
"You are hiding something aren't you? I can see it. It may not be my business, but know this, Psijic member. Fuck with my Dragonborn and your island will be found and razed to ashes. You understand me, I hope?"
Quaranir nodded and sighed with relief as he was let down gently.
"I do not mean any harm to her nor anyone else."
Serana nodded and then looked at Tolfdir.
"You are hiding something as well."
Tolfdir nodded and gulped.
"We lost many members during the Thalmor incursion...including..."
He sighed again and took Mirabelle's hand.
"Savos is dead...as well as...Onmund. Poor boy."
Serana closed her eyes.
Losing Savos is not a good thing. As for Onmund...Brelyna will be devastated.
Serana stalked out of the room, leaving three mages staring in her wake.
"I fear we woke another dragon," Mirabelle coughed weakly.
Tolfdir nodded.
"Let us retire for the night and pray that Morgan will be in a better mood in the morning."
"She was...in a good mood?" Quaranir muttered.
Mirabelle laughed and spat a globule of blood out of her mouth and smirked at the mage standing near the wall.
"Best not to anger her again Quaranir. Let her rage be focused on someone else for your own health."
Quaranir nodded and silently watched the two College mages leave before glancing at the room where the Eye had once been. There were still tendrils of magic swirling throughout the room, and he shivered as a cold breeze swept through his robes as though the doors were open. He looked at the doors and frowned when he saw they were closed shut.
That was not magic from the Eye...it was far older.
He felt as though he were being watched and he vanished from sight, the home of the Psijic Order his destination.
And much more powerful. What is going on here? I need to convene with the others. Another decision needs to be made.
He sighed as he travelled the vast distance towards his home, another troubling thought occurring to him.
The red haired woman. It is not the time for her and Morgan to meet. Not for a very long time. I pray she forgets before then, it may prove...problematic.