Scrolls were laid out across a desk in a meticulous manner. Their surface was scoured, letters deep enough to be read by touch alone. Palm-sized stones formed intricate runes on the smooth wooden surface, rearranged with every spell Siulon theorized. Resting in a bassinet within reach of her cushioned chair was an infant. He babbled softly when he wasn't asleep or screaming, watching his mother with wonder. It brought a smile to her every time he made a noise, even the shrill ones.

Thanks to Magnus' blessing he had been born with no issues beyond being premature. Colette had proven both an exceptional midwife and Master Wizard. While Siulon was recovering Colette had whipped things into order, getting repairs arranged and funerals prepared. When it came time to say farewell, everything had been in order. The College did not have the grounds to bury their lost. Despite Jarl Korir's open hatred of the College, he had allowed them to be buried in the graveyards of Winterhold.

Perhaps only due to the time in the Eye, Siulon had been able to say goodbye with a level of calm that surprised her fellow mages. None of the people of Winterhold had come. She knew it would take time to heal the animosity between them thanks to generations deep wounds. Still, a part of her bristled that they would not at the least attend the funeral of those who died protecting them, not even the Jarl. The rites were given by Tolfdir with a broken voice. He had sounded older than even Siulon that day. She would show them the depths of her grace by not using it against them. There was enough division in the former capital.

Siulon rubbed her eyes, feeling strain despite being unseeing. One's eyes did not keep closed naturally, even blind. She reached out and felt her son's small fingers, plump and soft. He was healthy, and for that she was thankful. "Savli," she called, knowing his name meant as much nothing to him as all the other words. "Are you hungry? I will take a break in an hour."

A voice chuckled from the doorway into the Arch-Mage's quarters. She scowled at the lack of knocking. "You never take breaks," Colette mocked.

Her scowl softened. "I am learning to," she countered. "Now what brings you? Perhaps I am finally allowed to leave my quarters?"

"It's barely been two weeks, you need more rest." Colette crossed over, her shoes soft on the stones. When she reached the dunmer Colette cooed down at the infant. "Besides, it's far too cold for Savli out there, spring it may be the Gods aren't acting like it."

"Hmm, suppose it would not be Winterhold if it did."

A playful swat to the shoulder was Colette's response. Siulon smiled up at her. Something shifted, a swell of uncertainty that she knew well. With a sigh, she pulled back from her son and took Colette's hands. "What is on your mind?"

The breton rarely withheld her thoughts, causing Siulon great concern. Hundreds of verbal skirmishes had passed between them. Yet one did not arise. Instead, Colette squeezed Siulon back and tapped a foot. Siulon waited patiently for her friend to break the silence. When she finally relented it came with a jagged sigh. "Are you sure about this? About me? I'm not exactly the most popular member of the College, and there are those more senior to me. Tolfdir-"

"Is a few years from retiring, if that. We need permanent leadership."

"He has seniority. He's talented and studious."

Siulon shook her head. "So are you. Besides, do not act as if seniority means much here. I am the newest teacher here yet you all unanimously made me the Arch-Mage."

Colette huffed. A stomp on stone echoed and Savli made a discomforted noise. "Sorry," she mumbled. Siulon reassured her and searched for one of his toys. Hands skimmed over scrolls and stones, growing frustrated as Savli began to whimper. He would cry soon. The soft ring of a rattle came as Colette gave Savli his toy, edges rounded so he could mouth it safely. Once more Siulon was reminded of what she had lost. It hadn't bothered her for some time, but after over a year of witnessing wonders it made her ache anew.

Savli gripped the edge of her sleeve. He was weak, incapable of pulling her, but she allowed him to. There was an entirely different wonder before her. She could hear his gums chomping down on the rattle, squelches of spit, and small orbs clattering together. He giggled and waggled her sleeve. The moment of grief dissolved like morning frost in the sun. "Yi juleki am as magnu," she whispered in dunmeri.

Colette hummed. "Your sun child?" She questioned.

"My son of the sun," she translated. "So, more or less."

After a moment's pause, Colette shifted closer. Her breathing was purposeful, steady, calming even. Siulon smirked at her as the breton settled into a chair. "Magnu… I have to know Siulon, what happened in the Eye? You are far too composed for what you endured in the time you did. You said Magnus showed Himself. You found peace. What does that actually mean?"

"If I tell you will you fully accept the position of Master Wizard?"

"How is that related?"

"Because it means I am placing a level of trust in you I will no other. I know you can do this Colette. Your leadership was paramount to our survival. I have not given you this position from friendship, though yes, I imagine we will work together well. I did it because you are the best suited and I trust you."

Colette sighed and pulled back. This close SIulon could hear Colette card her hands through her hair. The shifting of robes and rising hesitation amused Siulon, though she reminded herself that Colette was as emotionally hurt as she had been. She had lost friends, witnessed death, and held onto her soul the best she could after endless healing spells. Siulon wondered what it looked like to see the blood of friends on one's hands, desperate to keep them alive. She could feel Colette shaking.

The humor died.

"I apologize. I am being insensitive," she said evenly, unafraid of admitting her error. "I know we all suffered. I lost my husband but that does not mean my pain is the greatest."

"I watched you slowly kill yourself for days," rasped Colette. "I couldn't stop you. I couldn't help. Worst of all you were right, if you stopped we would have all died. Every second was terror and you come back changed. I am glad you are… adjusted, but I worry for you."

Siulon held out her hand. Colette took it with a speed she was surprised by. It reassured, comforted, knowing Colette viewed her as fiercely as a friend. "Time in the Eye moves considerably faster than reality," she began. "Magic does not work. Certain… wounds are healed. I could see."

"What was He like?" The question was soft, reverent. "Magnus?"

Immediately warmth spread over Siulon, webbing out from the part of her she felt him in. She touched her chest just above her heart. "As radiant as the sun, and as comforting as a campfire. He is a living flame, shifting and thrumming, burning and soothing. He is truly a sight to behold."

"Why did He keep you there for a year? Were you truly so injured?"

Siulon shook her head. Hair tickled her right cheek and she tried not to wince at how her new scars burned in memory. "Physically, no. He healed what Ancano did. However the mental toll of all that had happened… He offered for me to stay and heal. I took it."

A gasp split the air, far too sudden to be insincere. Colette squeezed her hand so strong it hurt. Savli giggled around his rattle. "You took a break!"

The dunmer lifted Colette's fingers one at a time until the tension was released. "I did. It took divine intervention, but yes. I am all the better for it. A year is quite some time to process things, especially when there are no responsibilities and good company."

"Good company?" The arching of a brow might as well have been audible from the lilt of her voice. Siulon gave a small nod. "Is that one of the things you do not wish to share? Do you fear judgment?"

"Fear is not the right word," she said. "I do not invite their judgment. It is private and I would keep it that way."

Colette lingered on the implication. She gripped Siulon's hand tighter until the dunmer winced. This time Siulon did not try to free herself. The breton pulled the considerably taller mage into a tight embrace, awkward given they were both seated but impassioned nonetheless. "I am humbled by your trust," she whispered, mindful to keep to the opposite side of Siulon's burn scars. Siulon wrapped her arms around her best friend. She could feel the exhaustion clinging to Colette's body by the way her shoulders drooped. She would have to find a way to let Colette rest as well.

"Of course I trust you," she replied in a warble, overcome by emotion. "There is… I trusted Savos and it was a mistake. I will admit I fear another betrayal, but you have always spoken plainly with me."

Colette pulled back. "Betrayal?"

Siulon ran cold. She hadn't told anyone yet the depths of her late husband's cowardice. The apprentices had admitted it to her in careful whispers, only to fall into silence when she told them she had discovered this truth in the Eye. She made them swear not to tell anyone else, so she might instead. Siulon scrunched her eyes as she steadied herself. It still hurt to think of; to imagine how he could lie so easily to her. "What I tell you does not leave this room. Not yet. Understand?"

"Yes, Arch-Mage."

"No. This is not a College matter. Not yet at least. I want… I need my friend."

Colette pressed their brows together for a moment. When she pulled back, Colette squeezed both her hands. "I promise I will always be there for you."

So Siulon told the whole truth.

Incense filled Siulon's lungs as she sat before the only real addition she had made to the Arch-Mage quarters thus far. A shrine to Magnus half her size rested beneath the tree she still marveled at within the spacious room. The garden growing around wiry roots had been tended to by the last six Arch-Mages. It was full of herbs and alchemical reagents, perfect for any kind of experiment. She tried not to let the memory of harvesting their bounty with Savos darken her contemplation.

Soft lavender soothed her. She had made certain it would be safe for Savli. It even had the added bonus of helping him sleep, giving her more silence to meditate with. Silence was a significantly rarer peace to find since his birth. Her thumb traced the carvings of the wooden idol, forming intricate lines mimicking flames. Three oval-shaped eyes, the middle one vertical, were the only facial features it had. Flaming claws tipped its hands, yet Siulon knew how soft they could be.

It was an incredible carving. She would have to thank Iona once again for it.

"Can you see through my eyes?" She wondered aloud.

The fire in her chest shifted, thrumming an answer. No.

"Can you see at all?"

Through magic. The responses were short, brisk, and honest. She knew it was difficult for him to speak to her. The fact that he could at all was a wonder. She had given him a means of reentering Mundas, small as it was. His gratitude was a bonfire that chased away any idle chill.

Siulon pressed her palm to the idol. "Perhaps one day you can be free of the Eye."

A growl accompanied his response. Doubtful.

She allowed herself a smile, small as it was. They were coming more easily. "I have already worked miracles, do not think another so impossible."

His words sent a shiver up her spine, gathering at the base of her skull. Phantom claws gripped her shoulder. Solid heat pressed into her back and sent her heart aflutter. Surprise me then.

Mind concluded, she gave the fiercest of smiles and pressed a kiss to the idol's head. Magnus rewarded her with more warmth. It did not feel like possession. All the tomes she had both read and written described it differently. Magnus claimed nothing. He did not push the boundaries nor even press against them to try. Instead, he celebrated what she had given him, delighted in her generosity. This did not leave her empty and cold. It soothed instead.

Company.

Siulon blinked from her thoughts and focused on her magic. Someone had entered the antechamber leading into her quarters. Their boots scuffed on stone. With a bit of focus she was able to make out the distinct shape of Iona, broad in shoulder and proud in stature only a seasoned warrior could be. Magnus' presence softened as he retreated. Even as few words as he had spoken were enough to drain him of energy. She silently bid him farewell as she pulled away from the shrine.

Tucking a smile away, Siulon called out. "Enter."

Iona strode inside at a quick pace, anxious or excited. "One day you will have to teach me how you know where we all are," she chuckled.

Siulon rose and swiped sparse dirt from her pants. Her robes rested atop of several other layers, cut in the front to allow her easy movement. The fur of the Arch-Mage shawl scratched her neck. It still smelled like Savos. She wasn't sure yet if she wanted to change that fact. After taking a moment to adjust her clothes, she held a hand out to Iona. "Guide me to the seating chairs please."

A firm palm clutched her hand. "I suspect you already know where they are, but of course. I will admit I am curious why you called for me. Is there something you wish to discuss?"

Soft cushions eased her tired body. As much as Colette tried to keep her in her quarters recovering, Siulon was a stubborn elf. She hated to admit how quickly she lost her breath, even to those close to her. She almost hated how they knew before she could tell them. Siulon reached to a short table, a teapot, and a pair of cups waiting. Iona beat her to it. Magic flashed in the black, accompanied by heat as Iona warmed the tea. A blessing from Magnus, she saw magic far more clearly than ever, even the smallest amount. Once prepared, Iona poured the tea and handed Siulon hers on a saucer.

"So polite," she praised, "thank you." A hum escaped her at the taste. Siulon enjoyed it for a few minutes before addressing Iona's question. The nord expressed her delight at the tea between sips. She had even added honey, just as Siulon liked it. The small act warmed her as much as Magnus did.

Placing aside her empty cup, Siulon turned to Iona and reached for her hand. Iona took it without hesitation. "I am immensely proud of you."

"You have said that many times," she deflected.

"But not to you individually. Your class delivered to us a miracle, but do not think I am unaware of your leadership. Each of you worked hard and risked much. We are indebted to you. From what the rest of your class has told me, your guidance is the only reason you did not share the same fate as Savos' class."

Iona snickered, again a deflection. Siulon arched her brow. "I don't believe Fabien and J'zargo kept from singing their own praises."

The dunmer chortled. "They most certainly told me of their contributions. Yet still, you were at the tip of their tongue. It would appear you have found a good balance between warrior and mage. I do not think we have had many like you in these halls. You are not the same mage I tutored chasing after vampires."

Silence followed for far longer than Siulon expected. Iona was utterly still, barely anything giving her away. "I am not," she replied in a measured voice.

"Iona?"

"It's… well it's true. I'm happy with how I have grown but some days I get angry over the past. If I had embraced my magic sooner Lydia might be alive. It's foolishness and I do not ache for her as I used to but the thoughts still slip in."

The image of a sharp dunmer filled Siulon's mind, hair the same crimson and eyes full of eagerness. Her right hand released the saucer and clutched the vampire bite scar on her left forearm. "I know entirely what you mean, little warrior mage."

"You do?"

"My sister Gadyali was infected with vampirism," she confessed. She had only told Savos and Colette the fate of her sister. "I spent decades trying to find a cure, but by the time I had a plausible one she was… gone. Gadyali was dead, and in her skin was a beast that wanted to turn me into another of her coven."

Iona set her tea down. "Is that why you are so knowledgeable on vampires?"

"Why else would I be? Why would I devote hundreds of years to a creature thought by many to be nothing more than folklore? I was desperate. I looked into every possible cure. Nothing was real until Falion." She did not realize Iona had taken her tea as well until the nord was holding her hands. They were rough, firm, and warm despite the cold. The Arch-Mage trembled. Teeth gritted and her lips curled into a snarl. "The pain does not go away, Iona. You will always wonder what might have been if you were further in your training. If a few more hours studying might have changed everything. If perhaps there was something you could have done to prevent any of it from happening in the first place."

Words came in a whisper. "I know I cannot change the past."

"No one can," Siulon agreed. "However, we can change the future. I have discovered truths that aided you in saving Yosa'Min. You have already worked a miracle and led your classmates in delivering our salvation. Gadyali, Savos, Lydia- they are all gone. They are not truly dead until they are forgotten. So long as we continue to live, to learn and love this world, guided by their memory then they are never dead. Some part of them will live on. Reflect on the past and learn from it, do not let it consume you."

Sniffles pricked Siulon's ears. She blinked reflexively. A hand lifted from where they were clasped to brush back stray locks from Iona's face. Strong cheeks were dampened. "Iona?"

She pulled back and rubbed her face. "I'm sorry. I just- this… Everything has been so hard as of late and this helps a lot. It does. I know I'm a fully grown woman but I just wish this kind of advice could have come from my parents but they… well they're gone and perhaps it would not be so bad for them to be dead as you described it. It's cruel I know but… I wish.."

Heart leaping, Siulon made the same soothing noises she did to Savli when he became distressed. "I wish I was your mother," Siulon confessed. Warmth filled her chest, an encouragement from Magnus. She had yet to act upon his advice and now there was no going back. "You need not only have one who abandoned you."

Several seconds of silence passed. Iona whispered, "Are you serious?"

Siulon forced down her anxieties. "Yes. I already consider your entire class akin to children but- were you to desire it. I would be… honored. Gods know you all have horrible birth families. If I could give you something positive, adoptive or honorary as it might be, I would be overjoyed."

Iona began to giggle. Siulon pulled back. Before she could get far Iona wrapped her arms around her. "So would I," she laughed, tears staining Siulon's robes. After a moment of confusion, Siulon returned it in full. Relieved laughter of her own filled the chambers. Savli hiccuped awake, cooing blurbing noises. Iona pulled back just enough to lean over the bassinet. "Hear that? You just got a big sister."

Savli screamed in delight. Iona returned the playful noise. A smile claimed Siulon and she let herself relax into the chair, reeling in this new development. Not so bad, is it? Magnus rumbled from within.

More than willing to admit when her dear one was right, Siulon shook her head. "It's perfect."

"Arch-Mage," Colette's voice came, sharp like a blade. "You have a guest."

Siulon paused her letter writing and straightened up from her desk. Fabien took the parchment and inkwell away. He had been double-checking her writing, nearly a dozen letters sealed already. They would reach out to allies, enemies, and most of all the Thalmor. She would not let them back in her College so long as she drew breath. It had taken longer than anticipated for the visitor to arrive, however, she was prepared. The College had been full of whispers the moment the powerful mage darkened their halls, in part thanks to a new security method that detected teleportation magic. It was not his first time on the premises, but Siulon was determined to make it his last.

Siulon waved them in then leaned over the bassinet to check on her son. Savli produced soft snores as he slept. Satisfied, Siulon turned to address her new arrival. With her altered vision she could see the magic radiating from him, a hearthfire of possibility. She hid her smile upon realizing he was not near as strong as one would expect for a Psijic Order sorcerer. "Arch-Mage Siulon Aren," he spoke with an accent distinctly hailing from the Summerset Islands. "I am Quaranir, a member of-"

"I know who you are."

He took a small step closer. "Perhaps then we could speak in private, we have very serious matters to discuss."

Siulon remained stoic and shook her head. "No. You are well acquainted with Fabien Mortierre, are you not?" She gestured to the young half-elf at her side. The shifting of fabric gave away that he had squared his shoulders.

"Not very well, but I know of him," Quaranir replied neutrally. Like Siulon, he sought to give nothing away. He had made his first mistake, however.

The Arch-Mage snapped her fingers and called aloud. "Master Wizard Colette, would you please fetch Iona?" A brisk affirmative was followed by rapid footsteps down the stone stairwell. "Fabien, start the tea."

"Arch-Mage, I would prefer to keep this visit brief, need we have two students with us let alone share drinks?"

Feigning innocence, Siulon rose from her chair and began towards the lounge seats. He begrudgingly followed. "You are here to speak about the Eye, are you not? I would presume the mages instrumental to its subduing are of interest to you. As for the tea, what kind of host would I be if I did not offer? Even uninvited guests should be treated well."

She could hear his teeth clenching. "I suppose it would be of benefit to speak to them as well," he agreed in a slow reply. "Drinks are unnecessary."

"You would reject my hospitality? Does the Psijic Order consider themselves above convention? Why do you seek to rush off like a thief in the night? Is there something you are after that you doubt I will like?"

Ensnared, Quaranir sat down. "I apologize, recent events have left all of us wary. The Eye of Magnus is dangerous."

"I am keenly aware of its potential," she growled as she took her seat. "I hope you have not come to lecture me on what I already know."

"Lecturing you would be a waste of both of our time," he cut back. She thinly smiled, a veneer of civility all that kept her from smiting him then and there.

Neither of them spoke as they awaited Iona's arrival. Fabien poured drinks with a dutiful silence of his own. Siulon did well to hide her satisfaction at Quaranir's cowing, entangled in the politics of guilds, orders, and powerful mages that did as much to start wars as prevent them. He had come expecting a beleaguered widow no doubt, and instead was met with a bear whose maw awaited biting down. He did not dare tempt fate and simply drank the tea.

Eventually, once more the antechamber was full of footsteps. Magic crackled in Siulon's mind's eyes, arching over the Staff of Magnus like a beacon. Immediately her divine companion blossomed within her chest, empowered by the arcane lightning rod. While she did not need the reassurance, it was a welcome one. Quaranir hummed at Iona's approach. "It is truly a marvel."

"Indeed it is," Siulon replied as it was pressed into her palms. Magnus thrummed within and she allowed her smile to show. "Thank you, Iona."

"Of course Arch-Mage," Iona said as she took her seat beside Fabien. She drank the tea and sighed in contentment. "Is this another of your homebrews?"

Quaranir tensed and lowered his cup. "This is your concoction?"

Teeth flashed as Siulon chuckled. A hand gestured in the vague direction of the garden. "Yes. What, do you think I have poisoned you? We all drank from the same teapot."

"That does not mean it is the same drink," he coldly said. "Perhaps you realize how foolish it would be to poison a member of the Psijic."

"Perhaps you do not realize how foolish it is to lie to me."

The air turned cold. Fabien snickered at whatever expression the altmer was giving. "Pardon?"

"You do not know of Fabien, you have spoken to him on several occasions. I am well aware of the promises you made to the boy."

"I do not know what you speak of," he said. His magic coiled within him.

"Cease your preparations," she ordered. "I will not harm you unless you force my hand."

After a lingering moment, the defensive spell faded. "You wanted to make me the Arch-Mage," Fabien growled at Siulon's urging. "Plaguing me with visions and cryptic warnings of what would happen. If you truly knew then why did you not act?"

"It is not our place to intervene in another organization's private matters. The succession of leadership is of no interest to us."

"Again you lie to my face," Siulon spat. "You wished to use him and nothing more. Surely putting a relic such as the staff in his hands, to finally control his magic as he now can, would give him a legitimate bid for a higher position. I do not believe you knew my husband and friends would perish, but you would certainly make use of such an opportunity. He has told me about your many conversations. I see your machinations for my College plainly, to puppet us through a mere student who would be indebted to you."

"That is an outlandish accusation Siulon."

"Arch-Mage," she corrected venomously. "Do well to remember who you speak to."

"It would be wise for you to do the same."

Fangs snapped shut upon foolish prey. "There is nothing to respect before me. Am I to cower at the feet of an order that could not do what my students did? At what stage did you help? Did you provide any real wisdom to Fabien? Did you attempt to speak to any educator here about the grave danger we faced? Did you speak more than a few sentences of nonsense to Savos?"

"We did not wish to overstep, your College split from the Cyrodiil Guild for their overreach."

"If the safety of a city, province, or even reality itself is at risk then you speak." Her voice was cold fury, not raised an octave. "Do you think us so proud we would scorn sincere warnings? I would expect you to act as wise as your order claims and pull your head out of your ass."

Magic swirled again, a reflex she suspected rather than intentional. "Arch-Mage you are grossly-"

"What is gross is your arrogance," she cut Quaranir off. "What authority do you possess that I must respect if my apprentices could do what you could not? You seek the Eye, we all know this, and you presume that I will simply give it to you. After all, the Psijic Order is as powerful as it is ancient is it not? I ought to cower at your feet and lay praise for gracing me with your mere presence should I not? I do not doubt the power of those within your order, you could destroy us with enough time surely, you have resources and allies we do not. Second to that, we are weakened. Do not think me unaware that you come to me while my son sleeps and my college mourns."

Handing the staff to Fabien, Siulon rose from the couch. The apprentices did not move, nor Quaranir, as she stalked forward with the grace of a predator. She ran a hand along the armrest of his seat, trailing shards of ice. "It would indeed be ill-advised for me to resist. Your approach also verifies everything I already suspected of you. You are a coward who thinks he acts with wisdom yet you only show the truth of your character. Lies spew from your gob as if they might hide your acts against us." Seizing his jaw with a frozen hand, Siulon growled lowly. "You are woefully transparent."

To his credit he did not flinch. "Be careful of how you act. We are powerful beyond your imagination."

A chuckle slipped from her as she cast him away. "Are you now? I cannot help but fixate on the fact that despite all the masters in your order, not a single one did what we did. The College found the Eye. My apprentices found the Staff. So you are either not as powerful as you so claim, or worse yet, complacent. Has sitting in your shrouded islands idled your ambitions? You sat and waited for us to act, and then come swooping in like vultures to pick over a corpse. Unfortunately for you, we yet live."

He remained quiet as she stalked around and took the staff in hand once again. Fire flickered over her as she focused her power and aimed it at Quaranir. "I will give you the Eye, not out of deference or fear. I give it to you because I do not want it. It is dangerous, it is a risk, and I do not wish for the target it places upon my College. Perhaps you might prove yourselves worthy of a fraction of your reputation. The Staff of Magnus remains here with those who have studied, fought, and sacrificed for it."

"How gracious of you," he said through gritted teeth.

"It is, is it not?" She laughed. "After all you have done, I have every right to scorch you into ash. Yet I shall show you mercy when a loathsome creature such as you deserves none."

Fabien snickered from the side. "An ugly worm at that."

"Thank you, Fabien." Siulon dipped her head. "Apparently you are an ugly loathsome creature."

"How dare you-"

Iona interjected with a voice so cold it could be felt in one's bones. "A spineless welp who has sat there near to shitting himself since you caught him in his pathetic lies."

The silence from the Psijic mage was admission enough for Siulon. She sneered and drew upon the ancient god nestled within her. Fires lifted from her robes like auroras, shimmering heat and yet precisely controlled. "I will forgive your trespasses this once, Quaranir. Do not tempt my ire ever again. Now get out of my home and tell your fellows that the College of Winterhold is independent. We bow to no one, least of all cowards."

He practically jumped to his feet, stumbling back as if she had physically repelled him. "Your magic- You don't even need the Eye do you?"

"As I said, I do not want it." Flames erupted from the Staff as a visage of Magnus manifested. Fabien and Iona expressed their awe at the sight, while Quaranir flinched away. "Now. Get. Out."

Magic flashed as he obeyed with a teleportation spell.

Iona and Fabien jumped from their seats. "That was incredible master!" Iona proclaimed.

"You put that weasel in his place," cackled Fabien. Fires flickering away, Siulon smiled and offered the Staff to Fabien. "Wait… what?"

"It will serve you well," she intoned. "Your magic is finally under control guided by Magnus."

"Are you sure? I think it belongs with you after that little display?"

Smirking, Siulon shook her head and pressed it into his hands. "I do not want it."

"Well… alright. Thank you Arch-Mage."

The heat within her chest softened as Fabien took the Staff. She could only smile at the flickers of approval flowing from Magnus. Turning to Iona, she clasped the nord's hands. "Would you be so kind as to carve me another statuette? I would like one for Savli."

Iona nodded her head so rapidly that she bounced. "I would be honored! I can get started right away!"

"Thank you. Send Colette back when you see her please."

"Right away Mother."

"Mom?" Fabien teased, his footsteps receding alongside Iona's.

Iona retorted. "You heard me. You're just jealous she asked me first."

Siulon could picture the way he bristled as his voice cracked. "Am not!"

"So you say."

"I am not jealous!"

Their bickering echoed through the antechamber and stairwell even after the door had been shut. Siulon smiled after them and returned to her desk. There was still plenty of work to be done, but at least this could at long last be put behind them. Savli snored from his basinette. Magnus rested within her. Despite everything, the College yet stood. She would be sure to keep it that way for as long as she drew breath.

After all, it was her home.