"This is it? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am." Iona looked back at the rest of the apprentices, bags beneath their eyes from their relentless travel and the haunting place they had left behind. The cold of Labyrinthian bit into their bones, making the weariness they possessed all the more known. "This is the place." Iona turned to the heavy carved stone door further up the steps, unknown horrors held within. If it were anything like the dungeons Yosa'Min had explored, she doubted they would come out uninjured.
J'zargo exhaled heavily as if trying to catch his breath. "This one is uncertain if it is safe inside."
"Of course, it isn't safe you feral tom," Fabien hissed back, a level of fear in his voice he could not hide from Iona. "The key to the most powerful magical artifact this side of the sun is within there! There's no doubt there are all sorts of traps, undead guards and who knows what else inside! Were the frost trolls we just had to slay not enough to clue you in?" He gestured wildly to the carved stones and monster corpses surrounding them. The beasts were beset by them immediately when they arrived. Iona had healed their wounds, though they were thankfully few.
J'zargo pulled his ears back in a hiss. "Normally this one would be amused by Fabien's words but now is not the time!"
"Look, they're finally having a lover's quarrel," Brelyna remarked dryly. "Cut it you two."
"Oh fuck off!" Fabien snarled.
Onmund stammered out, "Hey-hey don't fight! We h-have to work together!"
The half bosmer gritted his teeth at Onmund. Before he could say anything, however, Iona spun around, eyes alight with fire. "All of you, stop it. Did you forget what we left behind? Who's depending on us?" They cast their eyes aside shamefully. "I know we like to laugh and play around but this is the time for us to act like mages, not apprentices."
"B-but we are apprentices," Onmund countered, his eyes wide. "We've just gotten out of our novice robes."
Iona grimaced. "Aye, but today might just be graduation. The Staff of Magnus hopefully rests further ahead, and it is going to be dangerous. We can't act like foolish young mages, we have to think. Remember every lesson we've had, and every lecture and practice session. We have to get this right."
"What if it's not here?" Brelyna questioned as she fiddled with one of her buttons. There was a tear in her robes from the trolls, a freshly healed wound peeking through. "What do we do? Is there anywhere else we could even go?"
"Search for a clue, and pray to the gods that we find it soon. It took us over a day to get here, I don't want to waste any more time." She scanned them over, travel-worn and anxious. They each were open about such worries, and she appreciated it, but now was the time to set them aside. "For Siulon."
Fabien blinked, then gave a firm nod. "For Siulon."
The other three chimed in, "For Siulon."
Bracing themselves, the apprentices followed Iona's lead. The doorway into the dungeon was a dark stone with a missing segment where a torc might have gone. Fortunately for them, Mirabelle had passed it on in the remaining moments she had lived after the explosion. Iona held it with a heavy heart, dwelling upon the losses that undoubtedly grew the longer they took. She inhaled sharply and set her jaw. There was no time to waste. Placing the torc in the gap, she knocked heavily upon the dark stone. A shimmer of magic was just visible over its surface before it opened inward.
"Stay behind me," she ordered, bracing for the stale air and dust that lingered in places such as these. Her fellow apprentices were tightly packed, Onmund in the center of their formation as they went to cross the threshold. Just before Iona could enter, there was a whisper of noise, and she paused. She knew that voice perfectly.
"Come on, we're finally here! Let's not waste any more time!" Arch-mage Savos stood a few feet back from the door, translucent like a ghost. Iona had seen spirits like this before, a young girl in a burned home springing to the forefront of her mind. Her heart skipped and she clenched her fists unconsciously. The arch-mage wasn't alone. Five other spirits lingered around him, dressed like mere apprentices rather than the powerful mage they had known him as. Iona's mouth fell open as she took them in.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" An argonian spirit asked, "this is… well it's Labyrinthian."
"We'll be back before anyone knows we're gone," a female redguard said, "stop worrying so much."
The apprentices stepped around the spectral that did not take notice of them. Iona knew not the names of the other spirits who seemed frozen in time, reliving a moment before the new generation. There had never been a whisper about Savos' class of apprentices. It disturbed the nord to her core, an ill omen. There was a reason they did not know their names, as otherwise, they would be renowned mages steeped in the annals of history, at the very least the College's by now. She looked at her classmates and the same expression was spread across their faces.
A bosmer apprentice snarked, something about him reminding Iona of Fabien. "We all know you're the arch-mage's pet, you'll be just fine. It's the rest of us that need to worry about getting in trouble."
Savos snickered, "Don't forget this was your idea, Atmah." The redguard stomped a foot, no sound made in the physical realm nor the snow disturbed. It was disconcerting. A dunmer woman laughed alongside Savos.
"Enough talk, let's see what's in there," the sixth apprentice, a nord, said. A few moments passed before the spirits faded away, leaving the five living apprentices in their wake.
"That was… a vision," Onmund uttered first. "We all saw that, correct?"
"Aye," Iona muttered, dwelling upon it heavily.
"Now you know what my life is like," deadpanned Fabien. "Those Psijic Order mages keep appearing to me at the most inopportune of times."
J'zargo sniffed and gave him a hesitant scowl. "Well this time we all see them, so something is amiss about this place. Even from outside, we see ghosts."
"These are only visions," Brelyna interjected, "not ghosts. Surely however there will be spirits within. Places like these were burial grounds for ancient nords, and Labyrinthian is known for being the gathering place of dragon priests before the war with the dragons. Not to mention Shalidor himself has a notable presence here."
They looked to Iona, her breath lost as she realized that she was truly the leader among them. Memories resurfaced of the last time she'd led people; vampires, Morthal, Lydia, it all came rising. She gritted her teeth and tensed. "We are going to be okay. Together we're strong enough to overcome this place." She managed to hide the tension she felt.
Their resolve solidified, and the group followed Iona inside. The entrance was something unsurprising, mossy stones upholding a crumbling roof with skeletons scattered across the floor. Torn banners hung from former illustrious heights, ruin and decay all that was left. An intimidating engraved heavy iron door was across the way, and they were swift to approach.
Once more the apparitions manifested, startling Iona as she'd just walked through one. A shiver ran down her spine at the passing. "I can't believe we're doing this," the female dunmer said. Her face reminded Iona of Siulon's, full of sharp features. Of course, this dunmer lacked the burn scars that crawled along the arch-mage's left side.
"We'll discover something truly amazing here, I can feel it!" Savos said, a youthfulness to his voice that was foreign to the apprentices. Brelyna cautiously approached him, trying to get a better look. J'zargo pointedly stayed away, his fur rising.
"You sure there's anything left? Who knows how many others tried to explore these ruins," the nord said with a grave voice. He sounded a bit old for an apprentice.
"There's so much history here surely not everything is gone," countered the bosmer. "Have a bit of hope you old man."
"I'm younger than any of you elves," laughed the nord.
"There could be enchanted weapons, tomes, Shalidor's secrets themselves!" Went on Savos, not listening to the others. Iona had a feeling he never did.
"And… if things are guarding them?" Offered the argonian.
Atmah laughed this time, her voice echoing in the foyer. "Against six College-trained mages? We'll be through with this in no time short." The visions faded as suddenly as they appeared, leaving the apprentices hesitant. There were only five of them. None of them spoke on the matter however and continued forward through the heavy door. A raw and carved stone corridor sloped downward into the ruins, their steps loud and echoing as they progressed. Feet shifted uncomfortably, wary of traps and enemies but nothing presented itself just yet. Eventually, they found themselves facing a portcullis with a lever nearby. The end they found themselves upon was open, while further down in the tight corridor was closed.
Iona gave a brisk order for them to stick close and pulled the lever. It opened with an ancient creaking as if centuries had passed since it was last utilized. The four apprentices clung to Iona like an opossum carrying her young, eyes darting for any sign of danger. The moment they passed through the corridor the iron-wrought gate closed behind them with a heavy slam.
Onmund shouted in alarm and turned towards it, his dismay growing as he found no lever on their side. "What do we do?" He nearly screamed.
"Press forward," Iona ordered, pulling her gaze from him just in time to see they were not alone. A dozen or so skeletons stepped from the shadows with swords or bows in hand, only scraps of armor left upon their bare frames. "Ready up!" She shouted, magic forming at her fingertips. "We've got company!"
"They outnumber us!" Onmund said in a near panic already. J'zargo hissed beside him, striped fur rising as lightning crackled around him.
Brelyna gathered dark magic and a violet implosion erupted a few feet away. "How about we even the odds then!" She shouted, not allowing her fear to show as clearly as the nord man was. Fabien followed suit and a pair of flame atronachs manifested just in time to pounce upon the approaching undead. J'zargo cackled as he struck a trio with his lightning, sending them exploding into bone dust.
"Watch the sides," commanded Iona, "they can swarm easily!" Her fellows shouted in affirmation, forming a ring with their backs to one another. The skeletons charged with glowing blue eyes, possessed by unnatural means to continue in the afterlife. Their teeth clattered and bones creaked with each step, a cacophony of noise that was overwhelming as magic mixed between it. Still, there wasn't anything loud enough to mask the sound of earth rending itself apart from the center of the large chamber they were within. Iona cast her gaze aside just long enough to catch sight of stone and dirt exploding as something dug its way free. Her blood ran cold as a distinctive skull emerged, full of sharp teeth and pointed horns.
It was a skeletal dragon.
"Move! Move! Get behind those pillars before it scorches us all!" Iona bellowed, shoving Fabien towards one of the many pillars that lined the side of the chamber. The half-elf stumbled, scowled, and then paled as he took in the beast liberating itself from its burial mound in the center. Without a word he ran, tucking behind a pillar just as the dragon was freed. Iona took cover behind the same pillar as Fabien, their breathing frantic as its stomping drew closer.
"What in the actual fuck!" Fabien hissed, clutching a scrape a skeleton had given him.
"Brelyna said this place was associated with dragon priests but this wasn't what I expected!" Iona replied in an equally frantic tone. The screams of her fellow apprentices spiked, Onmund notably closer than the others. Iona peered around the pillar to see the poor bastard caught by skeletons out of cover. Brelyna and J'zargo were desperately trying to neutralize the undead without hurting their friend, but the dragon was swiftly approaching with a hungry maw. "Fabien-"
"I'll take the dragon on," he said as fire sprung to life around him. "I'm too inaccurate for Onmund anyway."
"Okay, good," Iona said, thankful he understood her perfectly. They sprung forward with shouts to draw its ire, barely a fraction of its size, and yet their hearts burned as just as strong. Fire lanced the dragon's hind while Iona dashed towards Onmund, a knife drawn. She had taken to using it rather than a proper sword with her magic training, and it would prove useful once more. The blade cracked one skull with ease, shattering the skeleton that held Onmund's left side in one fell swoop. Ice shards impaled another, while Onmund shouted and struggled free.
"Run!" She ordered as the skeletons were slain. "Focus on your wards and protect the others!"
Onmund stumbled over his words, gasping and staring at the dragon that was fixated on Fabien. Deafening explosions of magic shook the chamber, dirt, and rocks fell from the ceiling in threat. "We're dead."
A fire sparked within Iona and she grabbed him by his collar and pulled him menacingly close. "Don't you dare give up already. Siulon and the others are depending on us!"
"We can't kill a dragon, only Yosa'Min can!"
"No, only she can slay it for good," corrected Iona, shoving him towards the pillar Brelyna took cover behind. The atronachs dutifully blasted fireballs at the undead beast, pulling its attention. "We can put it back in the ground where it belongs."
Trembling fingers gathered magic, eyes wide with fear, and brow already bloodied. Onmund was no warrior like Iona, that much was clear. He was still a nord, however. A flicker of spirit filled his eyes, replacing instinctual terror. "Okay. Okay!" He shouted, steeling himself like a blade. "For Siulon!" Ice blasted the dragon's flank, draining whatever magicka it possessed. Fabien was running for all he was worth, barely dodging the beast's fangs and claws. Blood was spilled, dripping down his arm and slicking the dirt.
Iona inhaled slowly, focusing her power into a solid form. A spectral blade manifested in her grip, deep indigo and pulsating with power and ethereal flames. A knife would not work against a dragon such as this. Shouting, she sprinted into the fight. Her sword slashed the dragon across the maw just before it could gobble Fabien up, sending it recoiling instead. There was a moment of tension as the dragon examined her before frost magic gathered around it. Iona knew well that kind was particularly effective against a mage, stripping their magicka away from them just as swiftly as their health. Her other hand summoned a ward that took the brunt of the blow, shielding herself and Fabien just enough. Her feet shifted, the sheer force behind the dragon's breath sending her slowly backward. Fear spiked within her for a moment, but she immediately squashed it.
There was no place for fear here.
Explosions of magic hit the undead dragon's rear, stumbling it slightly as the three other apprentices focused themselves. J'zargo's fireballs were particularly nasty, blackening bleached bone instantly. The khajiit focused on the beast while Onmund swapped between blasting it and shielding them from any of the remaining skeleton's arrows. Brelyna pulled her focus away and instead killed the remaining skeletons. They disintegrated into ash with sparks of lightning. Fabien took the chance to dash out from behind Iona and summoned forth an inferno, his skin glowing like a new sun. The dragon roared as more of its bones were burned, a few of them falling off and clattering away.
Iona dashed in as the inferno ebbed away, the rush of heat making her flush and blood pump. She brought her ethereal sword across the dragon's chest where its ribs steadily weakened, wishing it had a heart she could simply skewer but without organs, she wasn't sure where the beast was most vulnerable. Instead, she kept slashing, unyielding in her pace. Her friends kept up their assault, splitting its attention as she and Fabien attacked it so brashly. It snapped and bit and she blocked it just so with her magic, parrying it more than anything.
"Just die already!" Shouted Fabien as he once more summoned his magic, a crackle in the bloodied air unmistakable. Lightning exploded as if nature itself had cast the bolt, a moment of white immediately followed by sudden darkness. Ears popped and a strange smell mixed with the burning of bones as the dragon fell limp. Iona collapsed, struck by the spell as well. Her limbs twitched unnaturally, teeth set and eyes clenched. Onmund rushed to her with healing magic, desperate to soothe her suffering.
"Careful!" Shouted Brelyna at the half-bosmer. She pushed him back and he threw up his hands. "You could've killed her!"
Panting, Fabien shook his head. "She's tougher than that. Can one of you patch me up?"
Onmund scowled at the brashness of his fellow and focused instead on the other nord. J'zargo scoffed and came to his friend's aid. His healing magic was nowhere near as refined as Iona or Onmund's, but it closed Fabien's wounds nonetheless. It took a few minutes for Iona to rise, but when she did she met Fabien's cautious gaze. She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Guess you've got all that magicka for a reason, eh?"
A smile pulled at Fabien's lips but he tucked it away. "Let's carry on, shall we?" He inquired with a dramatic gesture.
"If this is what we have at the start," Brelyna said as they started across the way, "just how bad is it further within?"
J'zargo cackled, his still risen fur revealing his true feelings. "Nothing J'zargo and friends cannot handle!"
"If anything it's Iona and friends," Onmund objected.
"How about it's just the apprentices?" Iona said, relieved they were not as bone chilled as she was. "Siulon's apprentices."
"I like that." The others agreed.
Tunnels of moss, rock, and decayed wood were becoming an unfortunately familiar sight to the apprentices. They'd traversed down through the ruins and it felt frustrating as if they were nowhere near the end. Draugr and skeletons alike had attacked them as they'd progressed, with a few more visions of the former apprentices. Unlike the living ones, someone had fallen to the dragon in the first chamber and it was not taken well. Iona refused to allow them to fragment like they had, keeping a steady hand on her fellows' hearts and tempers.
Periodically, there was a blasting of wind from further down the ruin, draining at their very senses. Iona was unfamiliar with such an attack, but there was a sneaking edge when she strained against the buffeting winds. She could almost swear she heard words among the creaking and whipping. If it was what she suspected, Iona was more afraid for her life than she had been in many months.
There were signs of others who had come into the crypt. Bloodstained into the stone and dirt, bones in rotted mage robes of unfamiliar styles, small remnants of death and suffering. Iona did her best not to focus on how many souls haunted the ruins and how many ancient nords were disturbed by those like them seeking relics of power. It was a losing battle she was doomed to ultimately fail, but she had to try.
Some time ago they had descended into a chasm of some sort and progressed deeper within to what could best be described as a thoroughfare. Pathways opened and ended in dead ends or burial rooms, draugr blocking every path taken. Weariness clung to the apprentices, growing more pronounced the more magic they used to defend themselves. Iona clung to her dagger with a heavy grimace.
Taking a short break, the apprentices found themselves in a secluded room with broken furniture and discarded potions. The air was damp and stale. Leaning against the moist stones, Iona tried to center herself. The others were doing much the same, though one of them grew discontent. "What if we're too late?" Brelyna's voice broke the contemplative silence.
"Then we'll slay that bastard and avenge them," Fabien said briskly as he drank a mana potion.
"What then?"
Onmund whimpered and rubbed his hands for warmth. "Come on I'm barely keeping myself together as is, don't make me think about that."
Iona grimaced as she opened her eyes. They were heavy and stung. "You have a point, but it would be wise to plan for multiple possibilities. Hope is important but we cannot rush blindly into this."
A low growl came from J'zargo and he kicked a set of bones away. They clattered further into the catacombs and faded into darkness. The echo carried on far too long for the apprentices' nerves. "If we go too slow then we too will die. Savos' class is crumbling around us and this one is concerned with meeting a similar fate."
"Scared, pussy cat?" Teased Fabien.
"Yes!" He shouted back, startling all of them. "J'zargo is scared, yes! A skeletal dragon nearly ate us earlier! This one knows his strength but Fabien does not! You overestimate yourself, Fabien!"
"As if you don't as well?" Fabien snarled as he crossed the room. J'zargo tilted his head up in challenge, bearing fangs.
With heavy footsteps Iona placed herself between them, shoving them apart. "Enough! You two are best friends, cut this out! We're all scared, but fighting won't help anyone but Ancano!"
Fabien sneered from around the nord. "I'm tired of his arrogance!"
"You are far more a braggart than J'zargo," hissed the khajiit. "Fabien has no control of his power!"
"You want power? I'll show you power!" Lightning crackled around the half-blood's hands, electrifying the air. Iona inhaled and started to cast a ward, but Brelyna took action. A heavy book slammed into the back of Fabien's head, stunning him just long enough for the spell to fade away.
Stomping around Fabien, Brelyna clutched his tunic. She pulled him close and he blinked. "Stop," she growled in a low tone. The others stepped back in shock at the dunmer's actions. "Did you forget what we were fighting for?"
"Don't make such accusations," Fabien replied in an equally low tone. He gripped her hands.
"Then why are you acting like this?"
"Because he's scared," Iona said softly. "Because we all know that something worse waits for us below, and not knowing what is eating away at us."
"Are you scared?" Fabien demanded.
"Utterly," she confessed. The anger slipped from his face and Fabien looked away. Brelyna released him and he straightened his tunic out. "We need a plan. We need to be prepared. If we go in as blindly as Savos' class did we will perish and so will our teachers."
"How do we plan for the unknown?" Questioned Onmund meekly. "My parents were right, college really will be the death of me."
Iona frowned and squinted at him. "Nordic parents who disavowed magic entirely?" She guessed. Onmund had only mentioned a few times that his family had not approved of his choice of career. He nodded. "I know what that's like. My father made me deny a part of myself for a long time."
"That's why you're so old?" Asked Fabien without his usual sharp edge. Exhaustion was softening his words and Iona was grateful for it.
"Aye, he was a bastard. Made me fear who I am as if I had chosen to possess magic. I spent my childhood trying to make him proud but he never cared for me because he knew what I was. I was never enough."
Fabien looked away and clutched his hands. They trembled. "I know what that's like…"
Seeing a rare chance, Iona pushed. "Fabien, I have refrained from asking out of respect, but I feel this has become far too pertinent to ignore any longer."
"Oh? What?"
"Why are you so powerful, yet uncontrolled?"
"I've been asking myself that my whole life."
"You find an answer?"
"It depends on who you ask. To some, I'm a disgusting half-blood of two hyper-magical races."
"And to you?" She pressed. He looked away and crossed his arms. "Why?"
"The shortest way to put it is I've never been a healthy person and my magic is more a curse than a blessing. I have tried to understand it, I have even tutored under Neloth in Solstheim, but people around me die."
Brelyna spoke up softly next, "Like your family? I've heard you… crying in your sleep, calling for a Marielle."
Fabien stiffened and looked at his muddied boots. "My elder half-sister."
"Half?"
"Oh, I'm a bastard. I thought you all assumed," he said with a deceptive nonchalance.
Iona squinted at the way his shoulders trembled. "No. I try not to assume anything these days."
"Well, aren't you wise?"
"Trying to be," she said with a humorless smile.
Brelyna cleared her throat. "What happened to your sister?"
"Uncontrolled magic," he said with a guarded tone. The others nodded understandingly. "Do we really want to delve into my tragic backstory? Don't we have more important things to do?"
"Your power is a risk," Iona said, "and we need to understand how to make use of it."
"Neloth tried the same until he got bored of me," growled Fabien.
Brelyna stepped forward with a surprising intensity. "Neloth and the rest of House Telvanni are stuck up elitist with impossible standards that not even their kin can live up to, let alone an outsider. You didn't have a chance with him other than becoming a test subject."
Fabien met her burning crimson gaze and smirked slightly. "I forgot you're from the same house. You don't act like your kin."
"Because I'm not an arrogant asshole." Her crude words were shocking from the softly spoken dunmer. They only made Fabien smile. "I left my home because no matter what I did I would never meet their suffocating expectations. Winterhold lets me go at my pace and welcomes my contributions, however small they may be."
"I feel at home in the college too," Onmund agreed, "no matter what my family says."
"I agree," Iona said. "When I came to study it felt like I could finally just be… me."
"This one is from Elsweyr and studied in Cyrodiil. This one came to Winterhold because he could not stand the politics," J'zargo suddenly spoke up. They all blinked at him. "What? Everyone else shared their past, J'zargo wanted to as well!"
Good-humored laughter bubbled between the apprentices. J'zargo flicked his tail in annoyance before joining the reprieve of merriment. When they settled down Iona wore a broad smile. Her spirit was renewed. "We all care about the college, but especially the people within it. Arch-mage Savos' class came here out of greed, but we have come out of love. We can and will do this."
"Love might be a strong word," whispered Fabien. Iona slapped his shoulder as she pulled them all into an embrace. "Okay okay, fine. But I don't love any of you!"
"Whatever you say Fabien," snickered Onmund. "Let's do this! For the college!"
"For the college!" They cheered in unison.
Three apparitions stood before the apprentices, weary and ragged. Savos Aren was flanked by Atmah and Hafnar, the redguard and nord, trembling where they stood years ago. Iona grimaced as she watched one final vision play out. "We shouldn't have left her to die!" Atmah screamed, clutching her head.
"What else could we have done, stayed with her and died too?" Savos rebuked, "She refused to go on! What choice did we have? We all know going back is suicide!"
"Everyone else is dead!" Atmah bellowed, collapsing to her knees. "I never should've suggested this. I never should've brought us here."
The older nord bent down and embraced her, while Savos remained standing, staring down at her with an unreadable expression. Iona wondered just how much he blamed the redguard, or himself. "The best thing we can do now is get out of here, live in their memory," Hafnar said.
Several minutes passed with her crying. The apprentices stiffened and shared glances the longer it went. "You're right," sniffled Atmah finally, "what's done is done."
"Whatever is the source of all this suffering is on the other side of this door," Hafnar said, "you two can feel it right?"
"Aye," mumbled Savos.
"Are we… Do you think we'll make it?" Whimpered Atmah.
"So long as we stay together," Hafnar said firmly, holding a hand up to Savos.
He took it after a moment of hesitation. "Together, yeah," Savos mumbled. The vision faded with a chill, the air frosted and breath puffing. The five looked at one another and said nothing. They were resolved and no words were needed. They were ready.
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing a grand chasm of horrors. The rock ceiling rose into shadows while fog clung to the stone-carved floor. A waterfall rushed from across the way and filled a deep pool at the base of one of two large golden towers with carved eagles. One rose significantly higher than the other, with bridges connecting to a platform near the entrance. At the end of each tower was a ghost with a beam of magic and light that shot to a sphere of light across the way. Swears were muttered as the apprentices took in the final chamber.
Pacing in the sphere like a beast awaiting freedom was a lanky figure dressed in bones and scales. When Iona squinted she realized he floated rather than walked. A mask blocked the face of the creature they assumed undead, carved into an intimidating expressionless face. "You were right," Iona whispered, "a dragon priest."
Brelyna gulped down her nerves. "Wish I wasn't…"
"He's trapped," added Onmund, "perhaps we needn't fight him? The staff must be around here somewhere."
Fabien pointed a bony finger at the dragon priest. "Yeah, in his hands." More curses filled the air, covered by the roar of water and magic.
"Let us see what is going on with the ghosts," Iona suggested, already knowing who she would find. A pit formed in her stomach as they proceeded inside. They walked carefully, with spells ready and backs to one another for any surprises. Iona led the way up the chamber and across the taller bridge. A weary woman perked up at their approach and blinked over her shoulder. "Atmah," Iona said sadly.
"Where is Savos?" She spoke with a whisper.
"Dead."
"Good. He left us. He fled like a coward. He broke his promise…"
"We've come for the Staff of Magnus, but the dragon priest has it."
She gave a shaky nod. "Morokei… we have him sealed, at the cost of our own lives. I volunteered, but one wasn't enough. We were all going to stay, stick together, bind him away. Then Savos ran."
"What a milkdrinker," muttered Onmund.
"Are you why we've been seeing visions of your class?" Asked Brelyna.
Atmah shrugged the best she could while still casting the spell. "This place is very powerful. Perhaps Savos left them, perhaps Morokei is playing games, or maybe my anger has seeped into the very stones and lingers. How did he die?"
Iona chose her words carefully, glancing at the others who seemed just as hesitant. "We were betrayed," she said simply. A smile darted across the ghost's face, making the apprentices shudder. A spirit left for centuries with only suffering and betrayal was a terrifying thing.
"Please, we need the staff," Brelyna pleaded, "the College is in grave danger."
"The only way you're getting the staff is if you defeat Morokei. At the cost of our souls, Hafnar and I keep him bound. If you are to retrieve the staff, you must release him," she spoke in a ragged whisper.
Fabien stepped forward, frowning. "We would have to slay you first, wouldn't we?"
"Grant us peace… please."
They shared long looks but it was clear what they must do. "Everyone, summon any atronachs you can, we're going to need the extra hands. J'zargo, Fabien, go to the other spirit. We'll put them to rest at the same time," ordered Iona. They briskly obeyed, as always best friends in sync. "Onmund, focus on protecting Brelyna."
"What about you?" Asked the dunmer, fear coloring her voice. A soft hand gingerly held Iona's. "Don't be foolish."
Green eyes stared at their clasped hands. She was unscarred by years of swordsmanship and tragedy, but when she looked into Brelyna's eyes she knew that the dunmer was not some naive girl. She too had suffered and lost. "I'm the only one who can fight without magic. We both know that in a battle of mages, whoever runs out of magicka first loses. We have numbers, but he is an undead dragon priest. If I can get in close, then he won't be able to target any of you. I will be your shield."
"We don't need a shield," argued Brelyna, holding tighter.
"He could summon reinforcements, warp our minds, or steal our souls. We don't know what he's capable of. I'm not losing anyone else. Never again."
Brelyna averted her gaze and chewed her lip. "Are you doing this for us, or Lydia?"
Tensing, Iona set her jaw. Onmund winced and stepped back from the pair, before leaving entirely to the others to discuss strategy. The former housecarl let go of Brelyna's hand and pulled away. "I lost her because I was afraid of myself. I denied who I was and sabotaged who I could have been. I'm not afraid anymore. I am not going to lose anyone else. I am a mage, but I am also a warrior. Today that will protect my friends."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to doubt you," Brelyna said swiftly.
Softening with a smile, Iona put a hand on Brelyna's shoulder and squeezed. "You're scared and worried I'm not thinking straight. Honestly though? This is the clearest-minded I've been in a long time. I know the stakes and what must be done."
"If you need to pull back, don't hesitate, please. We're only going to win together," urged Brelyna.
"I know my friends have my back," soothed Iona.
Brelyna bit her cheek and gave a nod. "Right… that we do, friend."
"I'm glad to have you, sincerely," Iona said before her voice dipped softly. "Let's focus on saving the college. Okay?"
"Okay," Brelyna replied. She shook herself and gave a falsely confident smile to Iona. "Onmund!"
Footsteps signaled his approach. "Those two are ready. Are we?"
Iona nodded firmly and drew a sword she'd taken from a draugr. She tightened her grip on a salvaged banded metal shield. It was familiar enough for her to be confident. "Let's do this."
Blissful sighs cried out behind Iona as Atmah and Hafnar were put to rest. A shiver ran down Iona's spine at the noise. The barrier around Morokei imploded ears-bursting loud, making Iona wince. Morokei rose into the air and wasted no time. Magic spun around one hand and gathered at the tip of the staff. Iona shouted orders as she charged to meet the dragon priest. His attention snapped down to her and ice magic flowed over her like a waterfall. A bone-deep pain filled her, grasping at her magicka like a gluttonous beast. She did her best to shield herself as she focused on closing the distance.
Then fireballs impacted with the undead monster, singeing his ratty robes, as the rest of the apprentices and their atronachs let loose. Battle cries from Brelyna, J'Zargo, Onmund and Fabien ricocheted off the stones. They were louder than the waterfall. Hearing them giving it their all sent a rush through Iona. With a cry of her own, she struck at him.
"FUS RO DAH!"
A ripple of air jettisoned from his mask at Iona. The Thu'um, Iona recognized with horror all too late. The words she'd feared she'd heard as they descended. She failed to bring her shield up in time. A wall of air impacted her. Breath knocked free, Iona felt herself go limp as she was punched by the air itself. It dragged her across the stones into the waters. Cold jolted down her body as she sank. A fuzzy show of lights illuminated the cavern as she inhaled water. The sounds of combat were distorted, her name reaching her ears but its speaker unclear. Robed rather than armored, she swiftly began to float back up the surprisingly deep pool. With all the strength she possessed, Iona broke the surface.
Lightning arced through the air, striking Brelyna and splintering into the others. Heart aching, Iona made for the stone. Onmund screamed as another chain lightning spell struck home, followed again and again. Morokei was relentless. They cast wards but his power broke them after one or two hits. Fabien snarled as fire gathered on his hands only for the spell to falter when Morokei struck again. The atronachs burned away, ash all that was left.
Iona pulled herself from the water and immediately set after Morokei. Iron cut through the dragon priest as Iona made contact. He stabbed at her with the staff, as if swatting a fly. A welt formed beneath her robes. She pushed through it. A roar came from the nord as she continued striking. Cloth followed the blade's edge. This was not a beast that bled. The mana-draining spell increased, sapping what strength Iona had left after the treacherous descent. That fact did nothing more than spur the warrior mage on.
Slicing upwards, Iona tried to break his mask. Morokei dodged backward, flying back gracefully. Fabien shouted obscenities as his magic consolidated. Blue light flickered on the walls. The air became thin, electric. A deafening boom was a millisecond behind the thunderbolt that hit Morokei. Before her vision had even cleared from the blinding power, Iona was pursuing. Unburdened by armor, Iona skipped across rocks like a goat. Morokei turned around to face her with magic, his cold mask flickering in the light of so many spells. His back now exposed to the others, they seized the chance to strike him with all they had.
Iona couldn't help but smile as she saw a unified attack from her friends over Morokei's back. She held his attention with a shout of challenge. Her shield blocked most of his spell. Arcs of lightning licked around the rim, singeing her robes and hair. Teeth gritted as she absorbed the spell. Suddenly he stopped. Iona peered around her shield. Her friends were still gathering themselves for one final attack. She had to stall him.
"You are no mage," he growled. His voice slithered into her ears, rasping and full of bile. "Is Savos sending anyone he can to die in his stead? Apprentices, warriors, who next?"
A wave of disgust rolled over Iona. He sounded like Ancano. So many people died because of arrogance and greed. While she did not doubt that Savos had died a different man than the one she had witnessed in this Oblivion-touched crypt, the man she had known was dead in two ways. No longer could she think of the arch-mage as a well-meaning yet forgetful and oft negligent man. She rued having to tell Siulon any of this. Yet she knew, she needed to tell her. It was only right that Siulon knew exactly what had happened here. She and her friends had to survive, and break the power of those who sought to destroy them.
"Savos Aren is dead!" She proclaimed, drawing her blade and casting her shield aside. It clattered away loudly, helping conceal her allies' pending attack. What little magic she had left coalesced on her blade, wreathing it in flames. "And soon you'll join him."
"Who are you?" He demanded, lightning crackling around him. His robes fluttered as the magic swelled. The power of his magic hid the gathering storm behind him. Every breath was electric, air shimmering in place. He was completely fixated on Iona.
Iona grinned and tilted her head up. "I'm just an apprentice."
He bellowed, the Thu'um rising on his lips only for the words to die. A spell cast by four mages at once was a sight to behold. Lightning cracked forward with singular intent. Fireballs orbited the bolt so rapidly that they became a blur of red against blue. The war cries of the casters' were muted against such power. Morokei didn't see it coming. A scream ripped itself from him as it struck true. Tattered robes were incinerated. The stink of burned flesh was horrible. Morokei moved forward, unable to stop himself, and Iona jumped from the rocks.
Her flaming sword sunk right through his ribs.
Ichor dripped down her blade, staining her fingers. It was so cold it burned. He had just enough magic to keep himself aloft but the fight was gone from the monster. Iona ripped his mask off and revealed a draugr of impossible horror. Teeth had turned to fangs more akin to a beast than man. Hollow blue eyes burned with hate. Rivers of wrinkles and dry leathery skin stunk in a manner that made her want to retch. Worse yet, her sword was cooking what organs he had left, quantifying the stench.
With her dagger pulled from her waistbelt, she stabbed it into his forehead. Ichor coated her hand. His jaw was set in shock. Fear, for a singular moment, replaced the hate. The world was frozen for a moment, the soul of the monster leaving its undead frame like the dying of a sun. She watched the final flicker of light in the dragon priest's eyes.
Then they fell. Once more the coldness of the water overwhelmed Iona. Her fire was extinguished immediately. They sank together. Iona held her breath as she struggled to liberate the Staff of Magnus from his once more dead grip. A few tugs weren't enough, and so she released her blades and pulled with all her might, feet kicking off the corpse. Even underwater she heard his fingers snap. Clutching the college's one hope, Iona swam to the surface.
Hands were on her before she was even gasping for air. Brelyna had dived in after her. They embraced beneath the water, trembling, utterly astonished at their victory. With a few exhausted kicks, they broke the surface, still clinging to one another. Whispered words of their victory slipped between them, holding fast. Their eyes met, reds and greens alight, and Iona smiled broadly. Laughter bubbled free between them. Daring, Brelyna pressed their brows together and Iona relented to the touch, delighting in it. They clasped hands.
Shouts came from the edge, and they pulled apart. J'zargo, Fabien, and were Onmund waiting. They waded to the edge where their friends were. Together, the three men pulled the women from the waters. Shivers claimed Iona but she didn't care. The Staff of Magnus gleamed at her side. "We did it," whispered Onmund.
"We did it," agreed Iona. A laugh rose from her and she looked up at her friends. They were all far better off than anticipated. "Together, we beat a dragon priest."
Fabien smiled while J'zargo purred loudly. "This One knew we could do it," boasted J'zargo.
"Sure you did," Onmund laughed with a shake of his head.
"Well I was here so of course," Fabien added.
Brelyna shoved the half-elf and he laughed. Her robes dripped and her brown hair was flat against her face. Exhaustion was palpable in each of them, but the cheer of victory held for now. "You're only lucky we were able to stabilize your spells," Brelyna accused. "If we hadn't woven our magicka in you might've destroyed the whole chamber."
"So Morokei would still be dead."
"Along with us with him!" Her words were soft. They laughed again, enjoying the moment.
Fabien pointed at Iona. "You look like a drowned rat."
"I feel like one."
"Still… You fought well."
Iona gasped and put a hand to her chest. "Is that an honest compliment?"
"Eh… I'm feeling generous."
Green eyes blinked down at the staff. She slid it to him and he arched a brow. "Me too."
"Are you sure? A relic of such power in hands like mine?" Still, he reached for it. The others smiled, encouraging. "I could hurt someone with this."
Iona put a hand on his shoulder. He briefly grimaced at the wet squelch. "Or you could protect someone. It will channel your magic, and refine it. Three other apprentice mages could do it, so this powerful relic can too."
He appraised it. A small smile tugged at his lips. Holding it firmly, he began shuffling to his feet. "Alright. Enough celebrating, we have a college to save don't we?"
The others rose. Iona lingered, trying to catch her breath. She held up a hand. Four hands grasped her arm at once. Another laugh came from the mages and they hauled Iona to her feet. An awkward embrace ensued, one of high spirits and exhausted bodies. When they pulled apart Iona studied her friends. She felt at home.
"Let's go."
AN: Hi. It's been of two years since I updated this story. 8 months since I posted anything at all. A- uh, let's simply put it 'lot' has happened since. Losing my job and extended unemployment, getting hospitalized for my mental health. Family health issues. Covid and ALLLLL that. Some incredibly dark days. I also got married, moved cross country, improved myself, got a wonderful job, and even started attending college. My skills as a freelance artist have improved vastly and I routinely get clients. I even started a comic! I'm on the up trend again, at least I'd like to think. I'm happy. Throughout all of that though, I kept thinking about Yosa and her friends and the stories I'd created. I still have so much I want to tell. So much I PLAN on telling. It might take me a while to balance everything but I do fully intend on sharing these stories. I hope you'll come along with me. And thanks to those that have stuck around.