[Edited and Finished: Sunday 6/8/2023]

[Edited Again: Friday 11/17/2023]

Journal Prelude: Day 0

Despite being one of them, Duneyrr found that wizards were among the most insufferable bunch. Always whining and carrying and can't take a rock to the head. Some of the most pompous individuals he's met were either nobility or mages. One of them was both, which made him doubly irritating, but a very good asset in his life.

At the moment he had found himself rushing across the bridge in a blizzard constructed by some sort of mage's error. Just at the entrance to the courtyard, Faralda and Phinis Gestor were standing there, trying to shield themselves with wards. They called out to him in the midst of the blizzard, as if he would hear whatever they were trying to tell him. He could only hurry across, moving as fast as his legs could carry him as the blizzard slowed the man down.

The town was less than happy to see him and he could only imagine why. Truthfully, he also didn't care. Regardless, when the whole college was glowing green from inside the courtyard he had more pressing matters to deal with than public image. The moment he got back from my travels he was accosted by the Jarl and his soldiers, only for them to point at the school.

On his way back up to the bridge he had overheard one of the local men hoping that the college had finally blown itself up. At this point he hoped that was the case. It made him laugh, that for the first time in Winterhold's history the city's Jarl knew more about what was going on in the college than it's own Archmage.

The snow covered ground was slowing him down just as much as the magical blizzard surrounding the town. It was so bad that his eyelashes had frozen over and his snot was almost ice.

It was almost as if the college was unable to go a month without blowing itself up. He had only been gone for a little less than a week. It wouldn't be surprising if some new apprentice had messed around with the eye. It was a mistake moving that thing back to Winterhold.

So what if Skyrim had finally gained its independence?Just because the Aldmeri Dominion finally found where the Psijics were hiding doesn't mean they should just move the thing back. He wasn't ignorant, being able to understand why they chose to relocate it. With no more Aldmeri influence in Skyrim it would be safest in the college. But they know the folley of young mages.

The glow grew brighter. It expanded more and more until it reached just a few feet behind the Archmage... and then it happened.

At least... something happened. He wasn't sure what it was.

It felt like he was moving through time in space. After the light took over his vision he could see every plane of oblivion colliding with each other like soap bubbles in a bucket; all of them were connected but their borders kept them separate. Some were smaller than others, but he felt as if he could touch them and know exactly who it belonged to. He felt as if he could take a knife to one of them and watch it pop, displaying all that's inside out into the cosmos.

He could see every star in the sky up close, spherical and bright. These holes, these... stars he flew past... they leaked out magicka so intense that it felt as if he were under water, drowning in pure energy so intense it could crush any living creature in an instant.

He could see some of the left over shards of the twelve worlds of creation, some still shining with potential tone more and others so dull that they'd be better reabsorbed into Aetherus. They pulled each other to and fro, like gravity was making them dance around each other, gracefully and calmly.

Through it all, he saw everything the world had to offer. Everything that was and could have been.

Then it stopped.

With a hard thud Duneyrr fell to the floor of the bridge, dropping his staff and then grabbing his head in pain. It was all so much. Through blurry vision and teary eyes he could see his colleagues doing the same, gripping their heads, writhing in pain. Despite all the trouble that was caused he hoped everyone inside was okay.

No longer reeling from the pain, he did his best to stand tall. Faralda and Phinis had begun to stand as well.

Surprisingly enough, whoever cast the spell managed to keep the College of Winterhold wholly intact – for the most part at least. Unsurprisingly enough, they were dislodged from the main town entirely. By dislodged, he thought that would have the college in pieces and chunks at the ocean floor, but this... this was... unexpected entirely.

Somehow the college had managed to find itself off the coast of a shoreline, where another chunk of land could be vaguely seen in the distance. It's bridge overextended past the beach, reaching onto the mainland.

"Where in Arkay's name are we?" Faralda asked, her voice ringing out in a nauseating way making Duneyrr want to vomit.

"Quiet, your voice makes me want to throw up." Duneyrr heard Phinis laugh a bit at his jab, almost throwing up himself.

"Well, I could-" she fall back on her rear, cutting herself off midway. "I could say the same for you."

Vertigo. Or something like it at least.

They were all experiencing it now. Likely an after effect of whatever happened inside. Damn magelings. Onmund's probably chewing out the one responsible now, at least if he wasn't also experiencing the same displeasure they were. Unless it was one of the teachers, in which case this just became much more of a potential problem.

"Shit!" He heard Phinis curse, clearly panicked. "The vault!"

"Oh, fuck!" Faralda declared in realization.

Vertigo be damned, the three rushed to their feet and down the college bridge.

They ended up running past the gate, into the courtyard and to the corner wall. Phinis rushed to remove the debris that had blocked the Midden door, using telekinesis to throw it over the balcony.

The door still led to somewhere, which could either be good or bad, but any further progress was blocked by debris and stone. Duneyrr cursed to himself. They would need workers to clear the way, and then the workers would ask why there are a bunch of books, swords, maces, daggers, staffs and armor pieces locked in the basement. Not to mention the forge.

Gods not the forge.

"I don't think I can magic this away," Faralda commented.

"Should we just... not do anything?" The Archmage queried into the matter. "It's not as if anyone can reach the artifacts now."

"And if Falmer tunnel through?" Asked Faralda.

"Falmer don't live this far south." Duneyrr said. "Also the college's campus is in a massive river. So unless they tunnel from the floor into the midden-"

"Isn't there a cave leading out?" Asked Phinis.

"Oh," Duneyrr said, realization setting in. The only questions he had at the moment was how much of the Midden was flooded, as well as how they would handle such a task.

"Regardless of the situation," Phinis spoke, returning the conversation back on topic. "How do you know we're south? For all we know we could be in Highrock."

"That... is a fair point," The Archmage conceded.

Suddenly they all heard the noise of bare footsteps clapping the ground behind them. All three turned to see Mirabelle, still in bed clothes and clearly just now waking up from standing before them. She had no makeup on and her hair was frazzled, revealing how old she truly was.

"Someone woke up a few decades late," the Archmage irritatedly teased, which resulted with him getting a death glare from the master wizard.

"What was that!?" She yelled.

"No clue," Faralda answered. "Was no one in the hall of the elements?"

"Just the eye," Mirabelle answered. "Did something happen with the eye?"

Duneyrr huffed, agitated but defeated. "It seems that way," He said, hoping to quell the curiosity of his colleague. "I can't think of anything stronger that could displace the whole college. Except a mass ritual."

"There's a hole in the sky," Mirabelle stated plainly.

Such a blunt statement left the trio of wizards confused. The three left the open building and into the courtyard once more where they could see the sky unblocked. All of them stood before the statue of Shalidor, and looked towards the sky.

"That's an oblivion gate," Phinis corrected. "Sort of like the sky in a Daedric realm."

"Are we in a Daedric realm?" Mirabelle asked.

"I... I'm unsure," the Conjuration teacher answered.

"We can't, as far as I know-"

"Walk in and kick the shit of the bastard," Duneyyr suggested, angrily eyeing the portal.

"Or," Phinis began, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, "we could find a way to close it from our end of the gate."

"It's a fucking hole in the sky, not a physically made portal!"

"Duneyrr!" Mirabelle shouted, grabbing his immediate attention. "Calm. Down."

"You damn well-"

"Yes, I am aware," Mirabelle countered, not even giving the Archmage a chance to speak. "Everyone is aware. Meridia, Vaermina, Molag-Bal, Mehrunes... Hermaeus-Mora. The massive vault of daedric artifacts below our college is proof enough."

"Don't forget the lich," Faralda added. "Where did it even come from?"

"Soul Cairn, I think," Duneyrr noted, not sure himself. "Moving on: Mirabelle, I will do as I please."

Mirabelle stood still, taking a deep breath before speaking out. "Fine." She said through grated teeth, too tired to deal with anyone but herself. "Just, don't do anything stupid."

"Name one time I have done anything to be considered stupid," the Archmage demanded.

"I could go on a whole list," Mirabelle told him. "But I have to make sure the college is still in one piece, and find out what happened." Without another word she turned around and left for the hall of the elements.

"Cunt," Duneyrr mumbled under his breath, still experiencing the nausea from earlier.

It would take days to figure out what to do, yet as it stands now there isn't anything anyone can do. It could take weeks to figure out how to get home. Maybe even months, perhaps.

Entry 1: Day 3 Post Incident

It had been three days and a group of unsolicited visitors had passed through. They wore armor that resembled that of royal guards in Highrock, and bore a shield with a sword with three or four flares on either side. Templars they called themselves.

None could tell if they were in Cyrodiil or Highrock, but by their names we could only guess the latter.

When the group of Templars tried to barge their way into the college they were met with immediate resistance. Faralda and J'zargo were the ones to repel them, but not without difficulty.

I had honestly thought that the two foremost masters of destruction would wipe the floor with the petty knights – which they technically did – but I was surprised. They did something to their magic. Whatever it is those Templars to their spells did caused a massive explosion that collapsed the bridge and instantly killed two previously uninjured of their posse. Three more were injured.

Their magic has been fluctuating a bit, either being too weak or too strong. Although slowly they were recovering.

Whatever few Templars left did so in a panic, even leaving some of their injured behind. All but one injured passed away, a human boy no older than twenty. The kid seemed shaken by the whole event, even more when he saw his comrades leave him. He even put up a fight when he was carried inside. Not that a man with a half-burned body could put up much of a fight. It was more like thrashing his body around and letting his limp arms flail around.

We had managed to get him into an empty room in the hall of countenance. Better their guest in the teachers wing where he could be immediately brought down should he get violent. Thankfully, I had Drevis calm him down with a sleep spell, and had Colette heal his body.

He had awoken an hour later, shouting and raving how he was taken prisoner by whatever the fuck an apostate is. He was subsequently laughed at, told he was free to go whenever he liked and was handed his items by Urag.

I was there for that, and near shit myself laughing at the look on his face.

There was the matter of his friends really. Those who had not abandoned him to a college full of wizards had died before I could grab Colette. Honestly I had never seen a more defeated man in my life, and I had a mirror.

The boy did apologize for his behavior, apologize for trying to kill us and subsequently felt sorry. After Colette offered to help bury his fallen – bless the cranky bat, I never knew she'd a heart of gold – we got an interesting story from the lad.

Apparently he's from a group called the Templars as already stated by one of his superiors. They had been wandering around after an incident at some conclave place that had been blown up, looking for apostate mages to 'bring to justice'. The scout on his patrol had found our college a day ago, and recognized us as mages by our robes. The rest of it snowballed to where I am now.

The lad himself had no ill experience with magic, but said he was a devout and wished to avenge the late Divine Justinia. When he saw we only meant to defend ourselves and keep our campus clean of trespassers he had done a double take on what was going on. His doubts were especially reinforced when Faralda attempted to dissuade them from continuing. One of his friends, a woman who was killed by the accidental explosion, had panicked upon seeing the Kahjiit and ran forward.

After all that, his mind again had changed, seeing us as dangerous and needing to be slain. This then lead to confusion when he found himself fully healed of his wounds, in bed in what he assumed to be a hostile place and told he is free to leave with his stuff.

I did have questions about a Divine, Templars and Apostates, as well as my fellow teachers. Those questions, however, would have to wait for another day; the boy was clearly stressed and confused, so I opted to let him be.

Entry 2: Day 4

The kid had left. I don't think he trusted us fully and I don't fault him for it. He took his armor, his clothes and his weapons. I also think he scrounged a few poisons from the alchemy lab thinking they were potions, or maybe he knew. Hopefully he doesn't drink them. Don't want to know what would happen if he drinks frostbite venom thinking it's something else.

The boy leaving also meant I didn't get my questions answered. That is also an issue.

I'll finish this up at a later point in time, Agni is at my door. I guess Falion is busy outside the college.

...

The girl was just a bit scared. Who couldn't be with a massive tear above our heads. She couldn't find Falion, Mirabelle was busy trying to dig out the Midden with Tolfdir and Urag, and almost everyone else was doing surveys. I guess I was the only one awake.

I took her to the Hall of the Elements where we practiced magic for awhile. I showed her some new things regarding Conjuration and Alteration, and what do you know, the girl summons a Frost Atronach. First try too, apparently Falion only taught the concept to her.

He'll try to kill me later, but I can live with it.

Entry 3: Day 7

Guess who was found in the library vault! It was Brynjolf. Jackass knocked over a porcelain vase from Hammerfell. It was exclusively from Hammerfell, found in the ruins of Volenfell. I wouldn't have known about this if I didn't hear Urag's screams of rage. I didn't step in until the Orc picked up his axe.

Terrible way for a Nightingale of all people to get caught. Even I wasn't that clumsy and I prefer the war hammer as my choice of weapon.

Now if only the Midden Vault could be accessed that easily.

Entry 4: Day 12

We had finally made process into breaking into the Midden though it nearly cost Tolfdir his back.

Phin was able to guide them through memory into the Midden, and made decent progress until they hit their first roadblock. Unfortunately this roadblock just so happened to be a half buried draugr that was still awake. Thank Talos he lacked a Thu'um, but poor Brelyna's still recovering from the frostbite.

On a different note: A messenger bird, a raven of all things, landed on the statue of Shalidor. I doubt it was for us, but my curiosity was piqued. After paralyzing the little creature I was able to safely remove the message.

Apparently the cretin was supposed to go to some place called Redcliffe before he decided to take a break to shit on the statue. Still, I know better than to harm crows or ravens – the smartasses.

I replied with a message of my own actually. If I recall, the message read:

Take your nasty bird back, I don't want it here. I do not know nor do I care what an Inquisition is. ~ The College of Winterhold.

It would probably come back to bite me in the ass, but I don't care.

Entry 5: Day 17

Three artifacts were recovered from the vault today. Thank Stendar they were the more important ones, but several more important ones are still buried under dirt.

We had found the Wabbajack, the Oghma Infinium and Mehrunes Razor. For now we have them kept in the Arcanium Vault. Hopefully Brynjolf can keep his hands away from the shiny and rare items in the vault.

In other news we had an exploration group come back today. They had the entire local area mapped. There were no villages in the area to speak of, only Templar and Apostate encampments dotting the area.

We're still left in the dark regarding that information.

Back on point, I'll see to getting copies of the map made. Best not to have anyone else go out of the college blind.

Entry 6: Day 18:

Winterhold was just besieged by Templars. There were at least twenty in number, enough to outnumber the student body, but when combined with the teachers it was nothing short of a massacre.

They were warned in advance, that their deaths would be on their own hands.

The way Faralda commanded lightning and frost at the same time only reinforced my fear of her. A condensed and continuous stream of frostbite wrapped in pale lightning that electrocuted and fried anyone in metal armor. Her ice freezing men and women through and through, a electrical wave traveling up their bodies before shattering them like glass with a thunderous explosion.

I saw the way they angled their shields downwards, how they hoped to deflect elemental spells away from them. I'll give them credit for it given how effective it seemed to be against projectile spells (except for shock spells, all's they did was give the electricity another medium to conduct through. That's why I choose leather.)

They did have archers backing them up from the back, but J'zargo put his natural stealth to good use. The cat only had to use a single spell. One by one the fell to the ground, throats slit by Khajiit claws, and the last one with a shard of ice through her forehead. Invisibility wasn't even needed.

All of what bodies weren't vaporized or shattered were thrown off the bridge into the water as to avoid the eventual fetid smell should they stay stagnant on land.

The way we outnumbered them in the end was staggering, but in the end numbers weren't needed. The Templars did cause another explosion by trying to mess around with spells. Now everyone in the college is feeling it.

Whatever they did to my magic... it's strange. If I put in the same amount of Magicka into a spell it's weaker, but if I go too much to try and replenish the amount of strength that spell had, it overloads it and makes it twice as strong.

We'll fix the bridge tomorrow.

Entry 7: Day 24

The midden excavation is complete. All artifacts previously removed have been put back in place and a golem is watching over them. When Colette called it an atronach Phinis nearly keeled over.

Ever seen two wizards in a fist fight? It's fucking hilarious. Colette refused to heal Phinis's wounds, but we have enough healers to spare.

Now that we have the Midden Vault uncovered, all's was left was the Midden Dark and the Atronach Forge left.

Hopefully things go smoothly from here, but I'm probably jinxing it.

Elsewhere

Lelianna sat quietly in her tent, going over various reports from her scouts. One from the hinterlands, one from the storm coast and two regarding some backwater swamp filled with Avvar.

From the distance behind the Haven Chantry she heard a familiar caw. It had seemed that someone had responded.

The crow landed on her table, crooning and pecking at its wing. Lelianna waited for the bird to finish before taking a look at the response.

She opened the scroll frowning at the colorful choice of words.

"Lelianna?" She heard behind her.

"Herald," She answered, a bitter taste in her mouth. "I'm sorry, that wasn't meant for you. My attitude, I mean."

"Is something the matter?" Asked the herald.

"I received quite the colorful response from an unintentional recipient."

"Oh?" The herald answered with a higher interest.

"I think we should save this for the chamber."

Four women and one man stood around a war table in a far back chamber of the chantry. One of the women, dressed in a gold and blue dress with a deeply tanned skin tone, held the message Lelianna had received from... whatever they could decipher from the angry scribbles.

"Half of this is illegible, and everything that is legible... well, it's mostly blind curses."

"Can you read it to us, Josephine?" Another woman with light auburn hair asked.

"Lady Herald, I don't think-"

"Josephine, please just read it."

Josephine sighed. "Ahem," she cleared her throat. "You – I don't know what that says."

"Let me see?" The only man in the room asked. Josephine showed him the letter. "You..." the man squinted, trying to get a better view of the words. "...Makers balls, that sounds like a slur."

"Cullen?" Josephine asked.

"I'm not repeating that."

Unsatisfied with the answer, Josephine moved on anyways. "Your gods damned crow shit on our statue and I was half tempted to remove it with its beak. Fucking inquisition my ass, you people – that's just incomprehensible gibberish. Redcliffe can..." her eyes widened at the next series of words. "Dear god, I don't think I can read this."

"I'll finish it," Lelianna offered. Josephine handed it to her without question. She picked up where her friend left off. "Redcliffe can drown in plague for all I give a shit. I'll wipe the place off the face of this world if I ever see another one of your damned birds again. The rest is just angry scribbles.

If I ever see your birds or your symbol again, I will send all thing's associated back to you in the form of ashes in a box."

"That part was in poor taste, all things considered," another woman with short black hair noted.

"Indeed." Cullen looked towards Lelianna. "Do you know who sent this?"

"None. No name was attached to the letter, no seal of any note or anything that could identify who this is."

"At least we have a place to start," the herald announced. "We know the bird was on its way to Redcliffe. We know whoever sent this is wealthy enough to have a statue made on their property."

"So we just eternally go eastward until we find our angry corespondent?" Cullen asked in a sarcastic manner.

"I can send scouts to investigate," Lelianna suggested. "I'll have them scour every inch of land from here to Redcliffe."

"Meanwhile, I'll send a few letters to any nobility in Fereldan. See if they've received any letters meant for Redcliffe. I can't wait for the letters back." The last sentence had a heavy tinge of sarcasm to it.

"For now," The herald began, "we can only wait. I'm quite interested in hearing the next message back."

AN: Typically I like to have chapters between 6k-10k words, but I couldn't figure out a way to put anything else in there that wasn't filler.