"I cannot heal you in the way that matters most," Magnus whispered into the void. Siulon was silent, staring at the ashes that dirtied the endless white that surrounded her. A patch of burned agony marred into the strange realm she was within. She would not have her vision when she returned to the realm of the mortals, and she wanted to remember this. Wanted to burn it into her mind's eye as much as the screams and cries.
"That is alright," she replied, a hand on her belly. "You saved what matters most of all to me."
Magnus was the sun itself, shifting flame and light that could only be looked upon for a few moments, else one go blind. Siulon was once more herself, a tall dunmer with burn scars and fiery hair. A new pair of scars adorned her form, both from Ancano's blades. Her right eye twitched, the pain faded and eye restored, but a mark was left all the same. "At least," she mused aloud, "I will not have to see these scars myself."
Magnus fluctuated, staring down at her. "That is not what I meant."
"I know. You meant my soul," she sighed.
The old god gave a nod. Then he held a hand out towards her, flames shifting into claws that dripped sunlight. Above his palm was a tiny, blue flame. It flickered with Siulon's breathing, dancing in tune with each inhale. A tightness formed in her chest. She knew what it was. "You… have my soul."
"The fragment," he reassured, "and only that. You pushed yourself beyond what limits exist, and it came at a cost. Rather than let some hungry daedra devour it, I brought it here into My Eye."
She stepped closer, drawn by the flame. She never thought her soul would be so fragile looking, as if a single gust of wind could extinguish it. "It was that or my child," she said simply. "I would make the same choice again."
Tilting his head, Magnus gave a slow chortle. "Oh, I know. There is no hiding your heart here. Most mortals would instinctively choose what protects themselves, even if their morals say otherwise. The fact that you were even aware of that cost, that you were at the edge of it and acted against your instincts, is… impressive."
"You are not easily impressed." It was a statement, not a question.
"No, I am not."
She stepped closer to him, looking for as long as she dared. Magnus was radiant in every way, a warmth that calmed her heart. After days of biting cold, the constant heat was a relief. Blotches of fiery colors swirled across his form, shifting as constantly as the wind. Reluctantly, Siulon turned away and blinked her eyes. "What happens now?"
"When you are ready, you will return to Nirn."
A brow arched. "I have a choice?"
When he laughed the void trembled. It made her heart quicken, as if danger loomed but something about the god put her at ease in a manner she hadn't felt in centuries. Perhaps it was the surprising gentleness with which he carried himself, proud but not blanketed in posturing. The intimidating persona that had taken delight in punishing Ancano was no more. She did not doubt his words about seeing into her heart, and perhaps that was the difference. She held no foolish ambitions of power or greatness. Siulon simply wanted to protect her loved ones.
A weight settled on her shoulders. She had been judged and found worthy. Glancing at the ashes of Ancano, she felt a mixture of fear and relief. A hand settled on her belly, thoughts growing into a storm. What would happen when she left? Would her child be alright? What of the College and her companions? As the anxiety began to take root there was another shift in the void.
Magnus crouched in front of her, a hand on her shoulder. It was warm but did not burn. She closed her eyes on instinct. Even through her eyelids, she could see his radiance. Slowly that blinding light dimmed until she cautiously squinted. Magnus was more akin to a campfire now, soothing in all ways. She never expected a god to be considerate. Most certainly not the first to leave behind the world they were making, ripping a hole through the fabric of reality so large he created the sun.
Every imagining of Magnus before now was a distant, powerful being. A creature of tremendous intellect and creativity, the architect of the very world. Yet also, he was selfish, or so she'd thought. When the old gods realized that creating Mundus would take so much power they might very well perish, he fled. They had been tricked, according to legend, but Siulon always thought perhaps if they had finished their plans the world would be a better place. However, she couldn't blame a creature, even a god, for not wanting to die for a deception.
He was watching her.
"What do you demand of me?" She asked, feeling in a precarious spot. She was trapped here, undoubtedly, until he released her. Daedra made deals, and even the Divines often demanded something in return. She expected him to be no different.
"Nothing," he said.
The scoff came before she could stop it. "Everything wants something," she snapped, "especially gods."
Once more he chuckled, long and rumbling like a gentle volcanic eruption. "I want you safe, Siulon. Is that such a surprise?"
"Yes," she said, knowing lying was pointless.
Magnus shook his head, laughing harder yet. "It is not often I see a mortal of such magnificence," he praised. A blush colored her cheeks and she frowned. It didn't sound like idle flattery, nor would it serve any purpose. "I would like to see where you go, and what you accomplish. For that, you need to be alive now don't you?"
It simply sounded too good to be true, and her frown only grew. Caution had kept her alive for so long, and she listened to that skeptical voice once more. "Do you gain something by holding onto that fragment of my soul? Many beings battle over them, growing stronger for every mortal damned to their domain."
To her further shock, Magnus did not grow angry at her question. If anything he seemed amused, tilting his head and chuckling. She shivered at its rumbling, feeling very small beside him. "I have minimal influence in Mundas, Siulon. A fragment of a soul will make no difference."
"Because you left us," she said without restraint or insult as if the potentially sensitive topic was morning news.
Three eyes widened and Magnus tilted his head. "Because we were deceived. I did not want to perish for a lie."
"Yet you could bring us in here," she further said, an anger building within her. If Magnus could whisk away that soul fragment, then surely there were things he could change in the mortal realm. The pervasive thought that he could have denied Ancano the magic that had torn her home asunder wriggled its way in, darkening the dunmer's mind. Her husband and friends could have lived. Her comrades wouldn't have lost pieces of themselves. She wouldn't have lost a fragment of her very soul.
Fists clenched. Siulon stepped closer as if he was not an old god before her but a man she might hold accountable. Magnus retreated. His eyes widened and flames dulled, like a scared beast. She followed, teeth gritting and heart racing. The accusation was clear in her heart, open for him to read, yet Siulon did not let it remain unspoken. "You could have prevented this."
The god recoiled, eyes diverting to the void beneath them. Siulon sneered. He shook his head. Flames bounced wildly as he drew himself in, trying to appear non-threatening. The behavior only made her angrier. "Are you not a god?" She demanded.
"An old God," corrected Magnus.
"You are the sun! You are magic itself!" Proclaimed Siulon, tears welling as she thought more of her loved ones. "Could you not at the very least have rejected Ancano? Prevented disaster by remaining as silent as you always have been?" Heat wavered, confusion thick in the air. Siulon scoffed, disgusted. "Why do we pray to you beings if you never listen?"
Magnus stiffened. "I listen."
"Then where were you?" She screamed.
"I saved you! I was there when it mattered!" He defended himself.
The words snapped something within her. Siulon chuckled darkly and wiped her eyes. "What of my husband then? Mirabelle? Faralda? The people of Winterhold? The mages who study at the college? Do they not matter?" She challenged, "What of the realm you abandoned?"
The old god quieted. His fire burned low, dim, and ashamed. Her anger stalled for a moment as she took him in. "I am not all-powerful," confessed Magnus.
"Clearly," she retorted. "But are you truly helpless?"
"I can only manifest in Nirn in places of great magical confluxes. Your fight with Ancano, with My staff, was enough. Nothing else was. When I left your realm, I sealed Myself almost entirely out. Reaching through the Eye is like threading My entire being through a needle, excruciating and costly. I am sorry that I could not help you sooner."
The softening anger was thoroughly quenched, swept away by the admission. Gods did not apologize. Not even Azura had expressed regret and personal blame for the tragedies of the dunmer, or the khajiit. Yet here was this ancient being of tremendous power, the very architect of mortal existence, and he apologized to her. Once more her understanding of reality felt upended. Siulon swayed on her feet, and she felt the warm touch of his hands on her body, guiding her to sit. It reminded her of how Savos would help her after she'd become pregnant, and fresh grief stabbed at her heart.
A quiet settled between them, uncomfortable the longer it stretched on. Magnus did not speak, however, clearly waiting for her response. He sat next to her, everything about his body language was approachable and patient. Siulon grimaced, staring ardently at her hands. "You have me at a disadvantage," she remarked eventually.
"Pardon?"
"You can see into my heart. I cannot do the same to you. It is… difficult to trust a being such as you."
"I understand. I have only spoken plainly with you, but I see why that is difficult to believe. No one has ever spoken to Me like that," he replied, "it is…"
She looked at him as he trailed off. Flames swirled around the god in the closest manner she could describe as uncertain, fluctuating as his eyes narrowed on a faraway point. "What is it?"
Magnus hesitated. Normally blind eyes squinted at him. "Impressive," he said at last.
"Has no one ever had the opportunity before?"
He chuckled. "Plenty. However, they have always been powerful wizards hoping to earn My blessing, far too afraid to offend Me lest I deny them their heart's desire. You, however, want for nothing I can give."
Mind turning back to her loved ones, Siulon grimaced. "How long have I been here?"
"By which standard? The Eye's, or what you call reality?"
Nose scrunched, Siulon considered his words. "This is a pocket dimension," she realized.
The corners of Magnus' eyes curved as if he were smiling. "Precisely, we are in the Aetherius after all. In the hours you have spent here, not even two seconds have passed in your reality."
She blinked. "Will I hunger here?"
Magnus tilted his head, catching her heart's shifting desires. His smile grew. "No. Perhaps grow tired, but more from a mental exhaustion than anything. The magic of this realm will keep you sustained, and you will age in accordance with how much time has passed in your reality."
An idle nod came from Siulon. A temptation crept up her spine, almost impossible to resist. Colette had been painfully correct on just how hard she had been pushing herself, along with the rest of her friends. She had not had a moment to think in almost a week, to process her emotions or consider the future. Days had been spent holding onto hope while drowning in blood and potions. Her body ached. Her heart hurt even more. A request worked its way through her mind but she couldn't quite ask it.
Magnus shifted closer, waiting for her to make her decision. It felt strange, to be in this god's domain yet have control. "What of my child?" She asked, delving for more information first.
"What will happen will not be altered by more time spent here. They will be safe here, and I promise you will deliver them safely in the mortal realm."
She scoffed. "You cannot make that promise if you are truly so powerless."
"I am not powerless, I am limited," he corrected her, no anger or pride coloring his words. A flaming hand reached for her belly, only to hesitate. "May I?"
Muscles grew tense. Images of Ancano flashed in her mind and she gritted her teeth. "Do what?"
"Bless them," he whispered. "A protection spell. The stress you have undergone might harm them otherwise, but this… I can do this."
Despite all her cautiousness, Siulon spoke swiftly. "Please," she whimpered, "I just want them to be safe."
Warmth enveloped her as Magnus put his palm against her, thick layers of robes doing nothing to lessen the radiant heat. Siulon gasped as she felt his magic consolidate, no runes or words spoken as Magnus willed the protection spell into being. She took progressively deeper breaths, calming herself as a comfortable peace rolled across her body. In a blink the magic was gone, but she felt a steadiness in her bones she hadn't in months.
Magnus retreated respectfully, his head bowed in deference. The hope that her child would be alright in the end brought Siulon to tears. The relief that the battle was truly finished came crashing into her next, battling her hope for domination of her mind. The dam she had been building to keep herself alert broke, not in little cracks but entire sheering sections. Before that could even finish she was starkly reminded that her husband would never see their child, hear their laughter, or hold their hands. Grief surged to blot out all the joy, and she clutched her face as everything unraveled.
"How long do you want to stay here?" He asked gently as she devolved into sobs.
"Ten," she whispered as she wished to feel Savos' arms around her.
"Ten?"
"Minutes."
"In reality?" He asked. She gave a whimpering nod. "Okay. Now let it out. All of it." Siulon's grief finally rose from the hole she had buried it in, only anger managing to escape throughout the fighting. It came in bubbling tears and desperate bellows. The clutching of robes and fur, tearing and screaming, and undignified wiping of a nose. Magnus opened his arms in an offering. She leaned into him as if they were old friends, at long last releasing her sorrow.
It turned out that ten minutes of reality was just over a month within the Eye. Days drenched in grief had passed by achingly slow. When her tears had finally stopped Siulon turned her mind to the forces responsible for her agony. The Thalmor and Psijic Order were playing with them, infiltrating the College each in their way. Plans to expel them were discussed, Magnus granting his wisdom or simply listening. He was remarkably good at that.
The sharp edges of grief finally softened into a dull ache, heavy still but not as painful. She could speak without feeling a pit in her chest. Her laughter came more sincerely. Magnus asked things that forced her to face truths she might rather ignore. She talked at length about Savos after she could finally form the words, telling a god who already knew what was in her heart how she had loved such a flawed man. He told her, with permission, terrible truths.
He told her what happened at Labyrinthine so long ago.
A week had been spent struggling with that dark truth. She had suspected that something awful had happened while he had been an apprentice at the College. Savos had always become tense and vague when she asked what it was like after he transferred from Cyrodiil, partly to escape judgment from her faked death. She thought perhaps they had died in accidents, similar to many students under his term, but to learn he had actively betrayed the last survivors to save his skin put the kind man she knew in a bitter new perspective.
Savos had lied.
Not only by omission, refusing to tell her what had happened in his past since they'd last been together, but about the Staff of Magnus itself. He had known where it was, and how to reach it. He had known what dangers lurked within the crypt, knowledge that could have been a tremendous aid to the apprentices. It was fortunate that they all had returned. Siulon didn't believe in luck. Their skills had carried them through the nightmare they had descended to, burdened by desperation to save their fellows rather than simple greed and ambition. They should have known how to prepare and had the opportunity to do so, rather than set off with aberrations nipping at their heels. It was wrong to withhold this information from them.
He had lied to her.
As they researched the Eye of Magnus, Siulon had asked so many questions. She could see the dangers it posed as much as the possibilities. From the moment they found the damned thing in Saarthal she knew it would be trouble. She did not think Savos had lied about the Eye, there was no way he could have known it was down there. However, from the moment they knew they would need the Staff of Magnus to interact with it safely, he had lied. She had spent weeks researching it, diving as deep into the limited knowledge of Magnus himself, only for Savos to stand there and have the gall to say he didn't know where it was.
There had been nights she had to be guided away from the Arcanaeum, buried deep in the recovered books from Fellglow Keep. Almost every reference of the Staff had been stripped away, as if intentionally. She had thought it a result of the thief, but now she couldn't help but wonder if Savos had been behind it. It was like the unraveling of her entire reality, making her question everything. If he could lie about things of such importance to protect himself, what else had he lied about? What of all the little things that made him the man she thought he was? Was it all a facade? A half-truth? Had he even liked the things he had claimed? Had he truly loved her?
Had he intended for them to never find the Staff until he realized far too late Ancano's intentions? A bitter laugh had escaped her at the realization that Savos had unwittingly set the stage for his death. She struggled to understand what it was all for. Savos had his pride, any mage did, but this tasted too extreme. The more she tried to see the truth the more tangled her mind became.
Finally, after two weeks in the void, she realized the depressing truth. Savos had been a coward. Anytime she tried to convince him to act, he hesitated. He would not pick a side in the war to protect the College. He did not even have the courage to ask her to marry him, wearing the amulet for weeks before she found it around his neck. He hadn't even dared to fix the bridge without her urging. No one knew the fate of his classmates until now because he had feared the consequences. She did not know if he had carried that shame with him, or simple relief that his deplorable actions were unknown. She would never know.
To her utter frustration, she still loved him.
Perhaps it was the irrational stage of grief she was enduring. Maybe it was all the fond memories of their shared days as apprentices. Even after he had blinded her by accident, she loved him. He loved her even after she had faked her death and denied him the truth to protect him from her sister's vengeful clan. Centuries spent alone with only her pain had only made her heart grow fonder. When they reunited he had continued loving her, despite the centuries-long lie.
For all of each other's flaws, they had continued to love one another. She had every right to feel the anger and disgust she did. He had endangered dozens and betrayed half as many. A part of her thought she ought to be enraged beyond reason, as furious as Ancano had made her. Truthfully however she felt more empty than anything. So much of their life was now in question, but she could not shake the love that had filled her. Perhaps she never would. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
So she turned to her only companion in the strange pocket world. Oftentimes he left her alone, giving her the space she needed to process everything. Others he manifested alongside her, warmth a comfort as much as his voice. Not all of their conversations were academic. A day had been spent entirely on childhood tales, Siulon sharing her hopes for her child. She wanted them to know the same kind of constant love her mother had given her. To be cared for and not left wanting.
Others were spent on trivialities, Siulon telling Magnus what it was like in the mortal plane. She shared stories of meals, both horrid and pleasant. She spoke at length about the logistics of feeding the entire College in a civil war. He offered suggestions as she lamented the lack of proper farmland in Winterhold, relying instead on imports and fishing. A new idea of growing crops with magical means intrigued her, though it would be costly to implement. Siulon told him what fresh snow felt like against one's skin, the sharp difference between when one is properly clothed or not. A story of her first experience with the cold of Skyrim had earned sympathy.
When she told him how different everything felt after going blind, especially further before she learned her proximity spell, Magnus had expressed sympathies. She missed the colors of the world and the certainty of which she could navigate. Most of all she missed when things were simple. She yearned for a moment of true peace.
There was so much waiting for her in the mortal realm. Friends, students, and coworkers; all dependent on her. The College would need to be repaired extensively, which would cost coin they did not have. Her husband, the liar she loved still, awaited a funeral. So did her friends, Mirabelle and Faralda. Wounds needed tending, relief was desperate to be had. Colette needed a break. The war was still on the edges of the Hold, like a hungry wolf pacing along a dying elk. She still didn't know which wolf would bite first.
The Thalmor and Psijic Order needed to be rooted out. The Eye needed to be secured elsewhere, far from where someone could abuse it. They had discussed it several times already, but it loomed like an executioner's ax. Anger and panic alike consumed her when those pervasive thoughts whispered in. Then Magnus would materialize with tender noises and calming fire. They were storm clouds come to darken her sky, threatening to flood her with fear. Then here came the sun to make it all okay.
Week four was announced with a ringing of laughter.
"Impossible," Siulon said as her vision blurred, chest heaving with spasms that initially had Magnus worried. Then the first chuckle came, half-suppressed, struggling free like a butterfly from its cocoon. She covered her lips with a hand, hiding a brilliant smile, and scrunched her eyes. "Surely you jest," she added, trying to maintain her composure.
The old god stared at her, drinking in the magnificence of her silvery laughter. Then his fires burned brighter, fluctuating in sudden intervals. "No. The et'Ada that would become known as Julianos came to me while we were creating Mundas. He asked me riddles and for each one I answered correctly he shared a magical secret he knew."
"But there were no secrets to you," she challenged. "You simply played a game."
Magnus' fire fluttered as his eyes squished, something she had learned meant a smile. "Correct."
"Surely he knew this."
"Also correct."
Still laughing, Siulon wiped her eyes. "So… why? Why the pretense of some challenge?"
Magnus held up a finger. "Because your Divine wanted to feel clever. Even Gods have such petty things as pride and ego."
A playful sneer curled Siulon's lips. "At least he stuck around and became a planet," she jabbed.
Magnus put his hand to his heart as if wounded, fire dimming. His voice told true he was amused. "And for that abstainment, I suffer dearly. After all, it is only now that I am blessed with your presence."
Mockery faded into uncertainty. Siulon averted her eyes. "Can you see nothing beyond your Eye?"
He snapped his fingers and the edges of the void shimmered, thinning into a smog. With great effort, Siulon could just make out the stonework of the College, the Hall of the Elements. She twisted, seeing a wall behind her. To one side was the open doorway and the other beautiful sunlight shone through shattered stained glass. A bird was flying past a window, appearing frozen in place, feathers beautifully splayed. Laying abandoned on the floor was the Staff of Magnus. "This and the clear flashes of extreme magic are all I can," he admitted. "I am almost entirely blind."
Lips pursed and Siulon looked back at him. The ache in his voice was a familiar one. "What of your Staff?"
"Think of it like a lightning rod. On its own is not enough, but often enough it amplifies the user to meet the threshold."
"Could… you see my students? When they retrieved your Staff?"
Clawed fingers that looked sharp enough to shred even the thickest armor rested on her shoulders with a soothing weight. She knew she had nothing to fear from him. "They were magnificent Siulon. You have every reason to be proud."
"This is not just flattery?" She inquired, unable to quite believe an old god spoke so highly of her apprentices. She believed in them, but so few even among her peers saw the same potential within them as she did.
He squeezed her shoulders and shook his head. "Siulon, they were not the ones amplified by My Staff, and yet I saw them. On their own, united, they shone as brilliantly as the sun. Just like when you first found My Eye. All I had seen for eons was that dusty tomb and shambling draugr. Then here comes seven mages with a dunmer at their head. I could taste the magic clinging to you, seeping through the very ground you walked. You were bright enough for Me to see, simply on your own. I could not reach out, but I could see you."
Gasping, she looked from him to the foggy view of Nirn and back. "You've been watching us," she whispered, "watching me. Yet you are trapped here. That must be torture."
"How could I not?" He asked with a thick chuckle, making the foggy vision fade and rumble the void around them. Tendrils of flame licked at her cheeks and despite the instinctual fear that rose in Siulon, she did not flinch. She trusted him. "Do you not admire the sun for its beauty, even if it hurts to look?"
Butterflies filled her stomach at the impossible implications of his words. The affection that radiated from him as surely as magic made her lungs tighten and heart tremble. "Magnus…" she fumbled. She didn't know what to say, a rarity in her life. Part of her wanted to reject him, grief-stricken and aching as she was. Another wanted to embrace him, comforting warmth that made her agony all the easier to bear.
Flaming claws grew lighter, pulling away. He curled his fire in a manner akin to deference. "You should ask your apprentices to share their tale," he said, returning to the earlier subject. "I would hate to rob them of that chance. It was their victory alone." Siulon blinked after him.
It had been a statement that demanded no answer. Magnus was stating his affection and nothing more. Some strange part of her wanted there to be more, wanted him to push. She watched him, analyzing every flicker of flame and the way he looked at her. Her heart skipped as she realized it wasn't the deference of one equal to another. It was submission. What happened next was entirely hers to decide. An ancient god with a mortal in their domain entirely at their mercy, was giving all the power to her.
Siulon exhaled slowly and stared at her hands. Ten minutes were nearly up in Mundas. She would be returning soon, and Magnus would once more be alone in the Eye. The thought made sorrow fill her. She enjoyed his company. Further, she enjoyed the ways he defied expectations. Biting her cheek, she looked up at him and dared. "Can I help you return to Mundas?"
The god blinked at her one eye at a time. "In how great a manner?"
"Enough to converse," she pushed. "I have… appreciated not only the time to think in here and sort myself out but your presence especially. I never imagined a god would be like you."
The core of his flames burned brighter, threatening to block out all else. Siulon squinted and he quickly corrected himself. Magnus held out a hand and she took it with great hesitation. Fire licked over her palm in a soft, comforting warmth. "I have never imagined meeting a mortal such as you," he said. "I can enter your world through great acts of magic. I would never ask you to push yourself to such a level, however, as it is dangerous."
Her chest ached as she remembered her soul, fragmented but safely in his care. Then she tilted her head, recalling her studies. "Daedra often can create connections that cross realms if they have a piece or the entirety of a soul, turning the mortal undead. Am I to become such a being?"
"No," he said firmly, "here in My Eye, your soul is one with magic itself. It is safe, emboldened… if anything you will grow more powerful." Then he squeezed her hand. "It does come at a cost, however. One I cannot undo. The only way to reunite your soul is for Me to claim all of you."
Her lips thinned. "That would kill me," she concluded.
"Both of you."
"But I cannot return here," she added. Magnus nodded. "Then I propose you make a path from the fragment you protect to the rest of me."
Once more the god seemed bewildered. He shifted so that he was at her eye level. "Why? That carries a risk."
"I think you are worth such a risk," she proclaimed. "You have already taken a risk with me. I would like to return such kindness. The time you have given me here is… I cannot thank you enough." Her voice cracked a softness she reserved for those closest to her. Magnus burned brighter, encompassing, soothing.
Large, glowing eyes narrowed. "You want to stay longer." Another statement, this one asking for an answer.
Tears brimmed and she clenched her teeth. Siulon lowered her head in shame. "It is selfish of me."
"You are allowed to be." He squeezed her hand.
"My friends will worry. They need me. I have so much I must do and repairs to begin and bodies to bury-" She was rambling, something rare for the confident dunmer. The words dipped into a volume so quiet even the god strained to hear her. A palm as large as her head cupped her cheek. Siulon blinked up at him, breath caught in her throat.
Magnus was crying.
It was the only way to explain the ashes that fell from his three magnificent eyes. The radiant sun god was dim, fires so low she could almost see a firmness to him she hadn't yet during her month in the Eye. "Why do you weep?" Siulon asked raggedly, confused yet humbled.
"I can feel your sorrow, Siulon. You need to heal, but you refuse to focus on yourself for as long as you truly need."
"The world does not stop for grief."
"You can get close," he uttered, "you deserve better than what you have endured. Please, let Me give you the time you need."
"My friends will worry. I can't put them in undue fear."
Magnus squeezed her, desperate and trembling. "The next one to hold My Staff will receive a vision. I will tell them that you are safe but healing, and it will take however long you need to be okay."
"I am not some doll to piece back together," she snarled though she did not think he held her in such a regard. It was a desperate fight against herself. She hadn't known true, genuine peace in centuries. Perhaps though, she hadn't let herself know peace. She had been running and fighting and desperately researching since her sister Gadyali had been turned into a vampire. She remembered praying to the Divines then, begging for them not to perform some miracle but simply guide her in some way so she could help Gadyali. But just as always the stars were silent. So she did what any self-respecting mage would, she dove into the unknown herself.
Such a venture did not come without a cost.
Magnus was waiting, reading the storm of her heart but not saying a word. His flames were subdued, ash still flitting from his eyes. It hurt her to see him cry. A strained laugh escaped her and he tilted his head. "You are a god, yet you weep for me."
The words came out slow, fumbling over themselves. "Yes, I… have explained that already."
"It is incredibly improper. A god should not feel grief for a mere mortal, let alone cry. Especially one who dug their own grave." As Siulon spoke her voice tapered, drowning beneath her sorrow. She could see clearly now how her habits had robbed herself of joy. So many had cautioned her from the road she journeyed. From her closest of friends to passing strangers. Now an old god counted among their number, begging her to take care of herself.
Her stomach ached and her face burned. Was she truly so pathetic, so incapable of taking care of herself, that it required divine intervention? Throat clenched, she began to curl in on herself. She hadn't gotten far when Magnus took her face in both hands. Radiant eyes stared into her, consumed her, burned away the shame. Siulon felt completely vulnerable for the first time in her life, utterly and completely incapable of hiding anything. For once she didn't want to.
Magnus' voice rumbled, dredged up with the power she associated with a god of his might. "I do not care for proper. I care for you to be well."
"Why? Because I am your first good guest in eons?" She croaked, placing her hands over his. Her heart quickened. When Savos held her like this she usually felt a twinge of pain. She had wanted to stare into his eyes as she did this god now. His massive, ash-weeping, trio of burning eyes stared into her very being. There was no judgment, nor supremacy. If anything he looked at her as if she were the greater being, as if she wielded the very essence of magic itself.
A thumb stroked her cheek, daring to inch to her lips. Magnus dimmed, smoldering, hesitating. "Because you are you," he confessed again.
A selfish thought filled Siulon. It rose from her bones like a desperate bird, trying to fly from the muck of her emotional state. It was wrong and improper, a mess of desires stirring with the first instance of absolute vulnerability in her life. By every standard, she should have squashed that desire that struggled free. She should have drowned it in the mud. Smothered that festering of selfishness as she had every other in her life.
Any time she gave in to such desires there was only pain that followed. Too many people depended on her to be able to indulge. Too many lives relied on her being focused and dedicated. Indulgences were luxuries she couldn't afford, they couldn't afford. "But you can't focus," Magnus whispered. "Because you do not allow yourself to heal."
Siulon jolted in his caress. Tears dampened her eyes. This was unnatural to her, so utterly foreign. Even ten minutes felt like too much to ask. Steam puffed as her tears evaporated the moment they touched his hands. He drew her closer, cradling her. Siulon gritted her teeth. She was still trying to keep the bird in the muck. The more she tried the louder it became, squawking that she had to try. She had to live freely. She couldn't possibly listen to it. It was wrong. It was presumptive. It was improper.
Staring into Magnus' eyes, she finally stopped caring for proper. "You're right," she whispered. "I… am just… continuing on. Running forward. Refusing to stop." The voices of her friends filled her head. Colette was the loudest of them all, begging her to stop, to rest. Magnus offered her a sincere chance. Healing did not come in ten minutes or a month of pocket dimensional time. Healing came at its own pace and she needed to accept that.
"I don't know how to heal," she confessed.
"It is always a different process and a journey that is not often easy,"
Fingers pressed against his hands, feeling the unending warmth. Utter comfort filled her chest as she finally let the bird fly from the muck. Streaks of filth clung to its feathers, and its gait was limping, but for the first time, Siulon let go. Her tears quantified. Steam puffed with every drop. She smiled, laughing, agonized yet relieved. Magnus held her close, impossibly gentle.
"Can you teach me?" She whispered.
He thrummed like the sun, beautiful, radiant, comforting. "Yes."
A whimper slipped from her as she was engulfed in flames. She should have turned away, run from the power that had scarred her. She so often did other times. Instead, she pushed further in. She dove in. Siulon allowed herself to seek comfort. To breathe. To rest. Magnus met her in kind.
Siulon had stopped counting the days, allowing herself to live in the moment. Magnus never asked if she was ready to return to reality. They both knew he would sense it within her heart. Every day the pain grew weaker. The turmoil calmed. The tears came less frequently and her laughter more sincere. For the first time since childhood, Siulon felt a sense of peace so absolute she was unsure what to even do.
She did not hunger, nor thirst, but she most certainly yearned. In a realm of pure magic, the possibilities were endless. Magnus showed her wonders she could scarcely have imagined. She witnessed a recreation of Mundas' birth, reliving Magnus' memories as if she had been beside him. He listened to her when she muttered suggestions, not all of them with the knowledge of retrospect. To her shock, he took her every thought seriously. It was not a powerful being indulging a mere mortal, nodding and smiling but not truly listening. Siulon knew he took to heart everything she said. She wasn't sure Savos had ever treated her so consistently in such a manner.
His eyes stared at her with an ever-growing intensity that warmed her cheeks.
Upon her request, Magnus made manifestations of food, drawing upon Siulon's memories. She shared them, amused by how he ate. The fires that comprised him simply consumed, burning it away. Still, he would proclaim they were delicious. He painted the corridors of the College, strange abstractions from Siulon's limited perspective. Some parts were clearer, drawn from Magnus' view from the Eye. She saw the faces of her College. Siulon had wept as she took them in, seeing not only her coworkers but her family. The College was her family.
When she stared into the faces of the current class of mages, she couldn't help but blubber proudly. They were her children. Iona was a vibrant nord with exhaustion and pain etched into her skin, scars of the heart plain to see. Brelyna dripped optimism tempered by hard lessons, reminding Siulon of her youth. She once had looked to the brighter side of life. That part was long gone. Onmund was more mature-looking than she had expected, his boyish behavior a stark contrast to his features. Fabien struck her heart. He looked sickly, desperate, and haunted. She imagined she had looked as such when she faked her death. J'Zargo was rugged, fluffy, with cunning in his eyes his tomfoolery belied. She knew well his mind held wonders as much as mischief.
For days she spoke of them to Magnus, even though he could see her heart. She simply had to. They had done something incredible and she would not deny it. Iona's name flowed the most from her lips. How could it not? When they had first met she had thought the nord an oathbound fool, one too smothered by her fears to see her true self. She had tasted the magic buried within the housecarl but did not see it her place to mention it. After all, that would mean she had an interest in the band of foolhardy women seeking to cure a vampire.
Then they'd returned, Iona's burgeoning flame nearly dead. Helping heal Lydia had given her a chance to appreciate Colette's talents all the more. It had begun their path of friendship. After all, when someone's life was on the line, what good did pride and theory do? They had an impossible task of their own to solve. Dwelling on her close friend, Siulon couldn't help but wonder if she ought to make Colette the next Master Wizard. It hurt to think of replacing Mirabelle, but the College had to live on.
Iona had done more than give her that, however. She had given her a daughter.
"You should tell them how you feel," Magnus had suggested when she admitted her attachment.
Siulon had scoffed. "And open myself up for pain should they not view me akin to a mother? Think it inappropriate? Most of them have family troubles, I do not wish to overstep."
A single flaming finger had touched her chest. Her breath had grown still, her heart racing. "How else are they supposed to enter your heart if you do not open the door?"
She hated that she could not give him a good answer.
There were things of him she loved far greater though.
Siulon loved the colors he showed her. She had missed them. Every shade he painted the Eye with brought tears to her eyes. The soft blues and purples of the sunset clashed with the gold of the sun spectacularly. They would sit there, watching illusionary scenes that shifted from picturesque vistas to bone-chilling storms. She wanted to see everything she had missed. Slowly, with each day, she found she wanted to share those rediscoveries with Magnus. Her heart still ached at the thought of Savos, but slowly it lessened until finally, she felt she could breathe.
Until finally, after a year within that realm, she felt free. "Magnus?" She called for him. The god materialized at her side, a familiar comfort now. A twinge filled her with what she must do. "It's…" she started to speak but it was caught in her throat as she looked up at him.
Ash fell from his eyes, yet they were squished from a smile. "It's time," he finished for her. Lips parted, words smothered, breath hitched as she took in the magnificent sight of Magnus. He stroked her cheek and she found herself light at the touch. She missed her friends, those she considered family now even. Siulon also knew she would miss him.
"I cannot thank You enough for this," she whispered, unable to raise her voice. Doing so only strangled the words again. The warmth he radiated was soothing, melting the flux of nerves that tried to stir within her.
A hand landed on her shoulder and he pulled her close. Flames enveloped her, licking across her body with precision. "The honor was Mine," he rumbled, Siulon shuddering at the way the void echoed.
Smirking, she tilted her head up to meet his powerful gaze. "You have it backward again," she teased. Not once had he acted as her superior, and rarely even her equal. It humbled her.
Magnus' thumb drifted to her lips as they so often did. Yet he never dared. He never stepped over that line. She never pushed, no matter how much her heart begged her to. "I wish I could come with you," he confessed. It was close, oh so very close, to what he truly meant. They both knew it.
"I do too," she admitted. Fingers pressed into his chest, fire curling around her. He was firm, solid, and resolute. Yet he trembled beneath her touch. "This hurts You…"
"I am sorry," he apologized, ash flowing faster now. His smile had faded. "It is very improper, I know."
Siulon pushed. "I do not care for proper."
Three eyes stared at her. She smiled. His hands on her shook, her statement reverberating across the void. She caressed his face with one hand, the other firmly against his chest. She felt a heart racing beneath the flames. How incredible it was to her that so much of this old god resembled mortals. As if truly, he had designed everything that ever would be in those Primordial days. The fact that she had captured his affections made her light from head to toe.
She pulled him close. His thumb brushed her lower lip for the first time. Hesitation lingered. Siulon had dwelled within the Eye for a year. In that time she had mourned and found peace. She would always feel the loss of her dear ones, even with her husband's betrayal. Yet the pain was lessened, manageable even. She would live on. She would allow herself to be selfish, even if it was bittersweet. "It is not selfish to desire joy," Siulon whispered, saying it as much to herself as Magnus.
"Correct," he murmured, voice an octave so deep Siulon trembled. "You deserve happiness."
"So do you."
Sunlight beamed as Magnus and Siulon closed the miniscule distance. The god had no mouth yet fire lathed over Siulon's lips in a thrilling sensation. Her body felt light, blinded by radiance yet delighted by it. Tongues of fire engulfed her body, warming every inch of her. It was intimate yet chaste by most means, somewhat like a fierce hug than anything else, leaving her gasping when he retreated. Dizzy, she clung to Magnus. He held her as if nothing else mattered in the universe.
"Wow," she whispered, blinking up at him despite his painful brightness. "I… I want you to make a path. I want you to stay with me."
"It is still risky," he cautioned.
"I will not allow myself to finally choose joy entirely only to lose it right after. This is not a fleeting whim."
Three eyes shimmered, ash flowing once again. He pulled her back into a tight embrace. "I do not want to lose you either." Flames licked over her heart, gentle but burning. Siulon winced as those flames became a singular tendril. It pressed against her, searing away cloth and fur. When it touched her bare skin Siulon whimpered.
"It will be quick," he vowed, "but it will not be pleasant. Are you sure?"
Tearing up from the pain, a terribly familiar agony that she would never forget, Siulon kissed him once more. "Yes." Radiant sunfire entered her chest, slipped between her ribs, and coiled around her heart. Siulon screamed. Nails dug into burning skin for support. It felt as if he was crushing her heart. Black swirled in her vision. She lost her balance entirely. She was swimming in sunlight, overwhelming in every possible way.
Just as she thought she might pass out, the tendril slowly withdrew. Tongues burned along her skin in intricate patterns. Heat pulsated over her, head-heavy and lungs full of smoke. Magnus watched her closely, his grip on her firm. Heavy pants and pained gasps eventually turned into deliberate motions. She opened her eyes and stared up at him. The fire was just as intense but there was no longer a hint of pain. It was comforting, reassuring, reliable.
Joy bubbled up through her, chasing out all else. "We are bound," Magnus intoned. "I grant you My blessing, My favor, and My power. I shall protect you, though there is much you can do on your own. Call upon me, and I shall serve."
"A god does not serve," Siulon chuckled just to get a rise out of him.
Magnus met her laughter in kind. Glowing eyes cut through to her soul. "This Old God serves you, Siulon. I want nothing else. Forgoing all rules of decorum, Siulon, I am yours however you desire."
Heart in her throat, Siulon licked her lips and found her courage. "Another month," she demanded. Sunlight enveloped her. Magic filled her lungs. Magnus was overjoyed to oblige.
Black.
Siulon had not missed it in the slightest. The consuming, enveloping, inescapable nothing that she had grown painfully familiar with returned with full force. The warmth of the Eye was gone, a magical nexus pulsating behind her the only hint of heat in the cold stone chamber. Wind brushed her face. The smell of snow and ice engulfed her.
She had returned to reality.
With trembling legs rose to her feet. Her head was heavy, and she stumbled. She exhaled deliberately, trying to shake off the nausea. A rush of footsteps came from her side and before she could face the approaching people, arms embraced her with great force.
"Arch-Mage!" Shouted Iona. Her voice cracked. Something dampened Siulon's cheek. The nord was crying. More mages hugged her, piling on without hesitation. Siulon stumbled at the force, startled. Bit by bit warmth grew. It blocked out the cold of Skyrim, the ceaseless frost that burrowed through one's bones. Robes, cloth, fur; it pressed against her until there was only comfort.
Siulon returned the embrace with her own tears.
Words flowed like thunder over one another. A cacophony of questions and exclamations. She could barely understand them, a mix of relief at seeing her and wanting to know what happened. Siulon smiled at their voices despite the confusion. She would never deny the joy their presence brought her again. Slowly the mages separated. The firm hands of Urag supported her still and she leaned into him. She felt fingertips trace her new scar and winced. "You're hurt," he rumbled.
"It is healed," she reassured. "Ancano is no more."
"Did he suffer?" Asked Fabien, his bloodthirst echoed by the others.
She gave a hum. His screams echoed in her ears. "Yes."
"May he rot in Oblivion," growled Iona.
Siulon chuckled softly. "He is elsewhere." The ripple of curiosity was palpable. "Magnus Himself has claimed the snake. He will never know peace."
Colette's voice came next, close enough Siulon realized Colette had been among those hugging her directly. She smiled at her friend. "Magnus showed Himself?"
The dunmer raised a hand to the Eye. She pressed her palm to its runes, a thrum of magic meeting her. She smiled, knowing now he was watching her. "He did. He has shown me much and taught me even more. He is… with me." They mumbled at her words. She couldn't help but hum and let them speculate. No part of her wanted to reveal the nature of their time together. A fire was nestled in her chest, filling the void left by her soul's fragment. She had no doubt Magnus would be with her always.
Urag squeezed her shoulder. "What even happened in there, Arch-Mage? We thought you would be gone much longer but it's been just over two hours."
She lowered her hand and turned to her College, her family. "I found peace."