Chapter Seventeen: Hitting The Books

It was about 2300 hours when Jon finally stood before the door to the Arch-Mages quarters. J'zargo and Lydia had taken to quarters after Jon had volunteered to take the word. The Attendant went back to his realm for his Pleasure, this time having plenty of time to enjoy it.

Jon hopped the Arch-Mage wouldn't be too mad here. The word was important, but some people don't want to be bothered this late for any reason. This was a university after all, not a military instillation where critical word must be delivered when received, at least when the commander is competent. The only thing Jon could figure, was that if he were Arch-Mage he would want something like this, even at the middle of the night. The find was big, an unknown artifact of ancient power, found in the first city of Skyrim, who's sacking precipitated all of Skyrim history, ended a species as it stood, maybe pushed along the end of another, and not a couple hours walk from the campus.

Jon knocked on the door, "Enter!"

Jon entered and saw the hooded Arch-Mage, Savos Aren, setting at a desk in his personal officer directly in front of the door. The Dunmer said, "I'll assume that this is important, being this late, and in my personal work time. Lucky for you I take my sleep irregularity and woke up not to long ago. Now out with it."

That was fair, Jon thought, and while his tone was arrogant, he wasn't being contemptuous. If this was important, and he assumed it was, then he would want the word. Jon said, "Hail, Arch-Mage, I am Jon. I and others of Tolfdir's-Party found something in Saarthal. A big orb. It emits sky-blue magika, and it's a powerful source of it, but that's all we know. Tolfdir is there now. He asked we bring the word back immediately."

Savos took a small smile, a reminder of better days before they became not so good days. He said, "You named your Party, after the Professor, cute. Sky-blue magika you said, not navy?"

Jon nodded, and the Savos said, "Alright, different colors of magika are definitely unusual, and always worth study. In Skyrim's first city to boot? Those facts are certainly related. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You and your party are all Apprentices right? Apart of the new class?"

Jon said, "Yes sir."

Savos smiled wider, "Sir, how quaint. I name you all Adepts. That allows you a few extra perks and opportunities others of the class wont have yet. New robes will be delivered to you quarters. I also personally give you this for a job well done. An enchanted circlet I made, always need to practice the more basic things. Your magika reserves will be just over moderately boosted. Dismissed, Adept."

Jon respectfully took the gift in both hands. It was a simple band made of sliver, without any gems or finery that one would see on a symbol of power like a Jarl's. Lydia would probably like jewelry, he thought. He had plenty of juice in him, and didn't have to worry about augmenting it though enchantment, yet. She could use it more, right now, and he wanted to give it to her.

He didn't snap to attention like he would a commanding officer, but he did give a firm nod, and turned on his heals with militarily precision to march out the door of the Arch-Mage's quarters. He began down the stairs, past the library level, and smelled an Altmer at the bottom of the steps. I figured they were probably trying to hide and catch them unawares as they were in the alcove. No monk of the Order, was this man.

Just before the Altmer could get the first word it, Jon opened the battle by purposely halting in his tracks. He didn't turn, yet. The Altmer said, "You found something, in Saarthal."

Jon had to think. Did the man just reason it out based on what he knew? Or did he have a bug in the Arch-Mages quarters. Assume both, Jon thought. He slowly turned to face the Thalmor agent and said, "All concerns with Party matters should be taken up with the Party leader, Tolfdir. Any College concerns, the Arch-Mage. Not students."

The man had both arrogance and contemptuous on his tone. He scoffed, "Yes, the intrepid members of Tolfdir's-Party. What a quaint name for quaint rabble. You probably think your all Great Heroes that will change the world. You especially, Thane."

Like calling him by title was intimidating when proof of his glory hangs for all to see, and that's literally how he introduces himself anyway. At least Jon knew for a fact he had a bug. The man was either arrogant or incompetent by giving Jon so much insight into his operations. A few dull insults. Both, Jon thought. He said, "Unless I'm being arrested for some crime, you have no right to detain me. I'll be returning to quarters."

The Thalmor scoffed again, "There's whispers about you. That your the supposed Dragonborn. Superstition I say, boast from a warrior that just happens to know how to sho-"

Jon met the Thalmor's eyes with this dragon ones. The man was shut up in the middle of his attacks. Yeah, the Thalmor would know for a fact that he was the Dragonborn, but so do many others. Good, he thought. Let them try. He would have words for them. With his shield-maiden a warrior Augment demi-goddess, he didn't even think he had to worry about her safety, that much. She would stand with him in the fight. With a friendly smile he turned away and left the stupefied agent to ruminate in his corner.

Jon arrived back in his and his shield-maidens quarters. She was lying naked, touching herself, waiting for him. He disrobed himself, blood already flowing, but had the circlet in his hand. She sat up, and he put the humble offering to his demi-goddess on her head. The shine of the silver contrasted and complimented her raven hair perfectly.

He said, "Arch-Mage gave me this, but you need it more than I, and I wanted to give it to you. Not anything fancy, I know."

She leaned in and kissed him, satisfied with the offering of jewelry, "I am equipped at your pleasure, my handsome Thane."

He leaned in and the began taking their fill of each other. In the throws of their slow passion, he whispered in her ear just loud enough for J'zargo to hear as well he hopped, "Say nothing of import in this room or anywhere on campus, if you can avoid it. There's a Thalmor agent here and he has the Arch-Mage's quarters bugged, it me-"

Lydia whispered, "I got it, now pleasure me so I can swallow you. Faster, steed, faster."

Jon picked up to a steady gallop, and their side quests lasted not much longer, ending in blessings of pleasure for both. They woke up the next morning entangled once again, and once again took to passion before a bath, getting dressed in their new robes, and breakfast. Jon wondered what he did that he deserved what he currently had.

He knew what he did. He needed to believe in himself as others apparently did. He raged against the Storm, refusing to ever submit against any odds. He became the Lord of it, bringing death and war to any who dare call themselves Tyrants, now gods returned. Storm's-Lord, Chosen of Akatosh, a young warrior with the will to do what's necessary, he was. He would take that mantel one day, when the time was right, since there was nothing else he could do. He was the Living Tenth Divine, for whatever that meant.

The campus always offered food for the students in a small cafe, so Jon and Lydia didn't have to dip into their provisions. He would have to buy some, but not in this place, on the wrong side of the border and the middle of nowhere. He also still had a good amount. A couple weeks still at single rations, so a week at double. He started with a lot thanks to the generosity of others, and had augmented them with whatever he could along the way.

You could stumble blind though Skyrim and run into all the game you could need. Magic in the soil, Jon thought. Everything grows faster, so it can support much more. Plus the fact that there was little sprawl in terms of population density that much of the natural environment was still old growth. Riverwood valley was probably like a farm, depending on how fast the trees could actually grow.

J'zargo, in his new Adept robes, quietly slipped into the bench table he and Lydia were eating at and said, "Hail, friends. J'zargo got your message last night. He also thanks you for not spending so long with each other. Whats the Party's next move?

They both snickered and Jon said, "We need to figure out what the connection is. We should speak to the Librarian, Urag. He might know something."

The rest of the Party agreed and they quietly ate for the rest of the time it took. They got arrogant and jealous looks from other Parties in the class. What did they do to already be Adepts? The two came only a couple days ago, and one was in steel plate. She didn't know a lick of magic, they knew. And she had a circlet from the Arch-Mage! He was famous for giving them to those who did something for him!

The trio walked from the cafe to the main hall. Jon said while they did, "Beard. What do you thing?"

Lydia smiled, and Jon knew so he smiled. She said, "And your hair, can I braid it when it gets long enough?"

Jon scoffed, "Is that even a question? Put some copper bands in it too. That seems to be my color and metal now."

Lydia smiled wider, thinking of her warrior Divine adorned so, beard and braids that put Ysgramor to shame, "And when it ages?"

J'zargo said, "Ah, yes. Many Khajiit use copper to adorn their fir. It was relatively inexpensive, and ages as you said. Many nice braid bands other jewelry can be bought from the caravan. For some coin, of course."

Jon said, "I've already gotten some wares. They gave me this cloak and the broach, hers as well. I should get it carved with my seal. When I meet them again. I would have stopped on the way back from Bleak-Falls, but they were gone. Shame because I had coin at that point."

J'zargo nodded, "Khajiit help those who help us. I am not surprised they gave you such a cloak, and another."

Jon smirked, "They also promised to charge me the next time."

The trio chucked as they entered the library. More arrogant looks were shot their way by other students. Some that were at the cafe, and others that had been gossiped too. The class pets had boldly made their entrance to the library. What did they do to earn those robes that they didn't do, they thought. Two of them only got here two days ago. They did not quite know yet that they looked upon the proud members of Tolfdir's-Party.

The Librarian was, of course, giving the Party a mean eye as they walked up, with that cocky now Adept at the head of it. He said, "If you say something stupid like 'I'm here to read all of your books' I am going to lose it, Adept."

Jon smiled, at least he was called by proper title. He leaned in for a more quiet conversation, hoping the Librarian would humor him, but expecting him to not. He said, "I'm looking for information as to what involvement the Psijic Order has with Saarthal. How their connected. Trying to do so quietly, lest the wrong ears hear."

The rage flashed for a moment at the question, but he contained himself and leaned into the conversation. He said, "What a stupid fucking question, Adept. How in the Oblivion did you earn those robes. What connection? An order that vanished at the end of the last age and an ancient Nord ru-"

The rage nearly filled his eyes as he remembered why he's been so angry the past few days. There was a book. Others, but one particular book. He found it in an old desk that hadn't been used in the last age. It was an early first age tome, the sole copy. If it wasn't, then people would know the things they don't know about Saarthal. Lost knowledge found randomly, and before he could give it to Tolfdir, that bastard apprentice stole it, and made away before the Librarian could kill the thief.

He took a centering breath. The cocky Adept was right. Lest the wrong ears hear. He said, "There was a book. About Saarthal. It was lost in a desk. Probably someone that either forgot about it or died and had their desk put in storage. Lost knowledge about Saarthal. I only just skimmed it to figure out what it was about. Was going to give it to Tolfdir, but some bastard stole three of my books, that being one of them."

Jon didn't hesitate, "Know where he took them?"

The old Orsimer had an evil smile and nod, "Fellglow keep. The bastard, Orthorn, took them there. I think to join a clan of summoners. Some kind of peace offering. If he ends up dead, I wont cry about it."

Lydia said, "I know where that is. Whiterun hold, near Valtheim Towers, actually."

Jon nodded, "Thanks for the information. Tolfdir's-Party will get your books back."

The Librarian began to laugh evilly, and those that knew, got out. Jon continued, "However, I will need to read you books. As many as I can before we depart on the marrow. I'm a fast reader, perfect memory. I'll put everything back where I found it, one by one. The dragons are out there and I need to learn as much as possible, as fast as possible, so I can practice and use it against them."

The Librarian took another centering breath. He said, "Alright. Only because of those robes. You obviously proved your worth to someone fast. One. by. One. Not more."

The Party turned away and prepared for their session in the library. Jon asked, "You going to come with us, J'zargo?"

J'zargo gave a sly smile, like he knew what the current Party leader would offer when he said, "J'zargo would like too, but he does not own a horse. It would slow the Party down."

Jon returned the sly smile, "I'll buy you one. It will be whatever the stable has though. I got plenty of coin, and its mostly Party resources right now."

Lydia smiled. He could loot whatever tomb he wanted. He needed to in order to afford his generosity. J'zargo said, "Hail Tolfdir's-Party, my friends."

"Hail Tolfdir's-Party" The lovers responded, to more arrogant looks. What a stupid party name, they all thought. Named after a doting old Professor.

Jon and Lydia took to their task, while J'zargo took only a few books, that he would return to the proper cart when he was done. One by one, end by end, the Jon and Lydia worked their way though the library. After breaking for a lunch, Jon went and arranged for J'zargo's horse. He also wanted to personally check on Valkyrie and Freya, to see how they were doing. As it turned out, they had made a particular friend, a colt, and it was obvious who Jon was going to buy.

Jon even checked the food stands, just to see what the offerings were like, and there was actually plenty of fish in the icy water near the city, a local walrus too. A fisher-monger was even offering Pemmican made from his smoked and dried take, Horker too, snow-berries, all next to his fresh take. He extolled the cook book he had bought and got the recipe from. Jon took his fill of it, and enough to stock Lydia and J'zargo with for the trip. He was happy his sales were doing so good, if a Nord fisherman in the ass end of Stormcloak territory was up-selling an Elven cookbook.

Jon returned to the library to a smiling Lydia and waving J'zargo. He was actually just leaving, wanting to preform some experiments now that he had more resources to work with. They agreed to meet near dawn on the marrow, at the stables.

Jon would also preform some experiments, with enchantment especially, alchemy as well. Lydia was working on a cabinet of destruction magics, reading and learning just as fast as Jon with her Augment physiology.

During the morning session she took to restoration magics for healing, in case the party need it. Jon was of course always happy to see cross specialization, and he let her know by pheromones. She would respond and call out herself every so often, Jon would respond himself. The arrogant looks never ceased from the class. They aren't actually reading those books. Why is the Librarian letting them get away with this insult?

Jon spent his morning working on wards and destruction magics. Now he wanted to learn alchemy and enchantment. The alchemy was easy enough, but Jon spied several deficiencies in the brewing process. They didn't have complex glass ware or true measuring devices. Any could mix a brew, but the exact proportions and effects all come down to brewers experience. Any recipes just told you what you needed. Not really how much. Their potions were also percolated out from the brew mix, but never distilled and purified. They didn't seem to have distilling at all, given the lack of liquors. There should be vodka flowing out of these peoples asses, with all the potatoes he's seen. Mead and wine is it basically. Maybe true beer in somewhere not Skyrim. Jon didn't know if he could brew a potion strong enough to overcome his and his shield-maiden's physiology.

Perhaps it wouldn't be necessary. He pulled a potion out, a blue one of magika, and cast his concentrated ward. His magika reserves weren't exactly deep, but enough that he had to cast a couple minutes to drain them. Jon felt the concentration eating at brow as his reserves were about to empty, and disengaged the spell while downing a potion for the first time. It surprisingly didn't taste bad at all, but he didn't know if that was from the particular ingredients used or not. He felt some of his reserves regenerate instantly, but not much. If this is indicative of the average potion strength, then he would need stronger potions, and thus better glassware.

His next target was an enchantment cabinet, and what he found there irked him. Even Lydia smelled it. She looked over, and saw what he was reading, and thought nothing of it. If she didn't come from Nirn and finally studied enchantment for the first time, she would be off-put too.

Soul gems. Literal. There was even a tome on conjuration, relating to using bound weapons to take souls. He was a soul eater, Jon guessed. And at least only black soul gems could take a sapient soul, and those were rare as far as soul gems were concerned. These could be manufactured, Jon thought. Grown most like. They are usually mined, and completely reusable, and thus sustainable. He leaned what he could from that cabinet, and decided to try practical application. Not just in magic though, by the look and smell of the raven haired beauty approaching him.

Lydia had come over with a grin and said, "Dinner and a blessing?"

Jon nodded eagerly. He was hungry in more ways than one. They both took to their quarters for their fill of food and each other. They weren't too worried about being spied on. They never left their kit in their rooms, much to the arrogant looks of others of the class, so they weren't worried about the Thalmor getting to that. If he wanted to listen to them love each other, however, than that was his prerogative. Good, they both thought.

After an hour of blessing, they took another bath, Jon thanking the Divines that there were plenty of baths around, and began their evening studies. Their Adept robes gave them access to the main practice all, which none of the other week and a half old class had yet. It had plenty of resources any learning mage would need, for all kinds of magical subjects of study. There was a sparing ring, for mages to practice together, and a ghost summons of a long dead destruction master that volunteered to have her soul bound, and used to spar with.

Jon called forth the woman to practice his ward with. He said, "Hail, friend. You all there in the head?"

The ghostly wizard smiled, "So polite. Most just want to get right to it, and never address me at all. And yes, I am still all there. I've long since given up a name, since I am only an apparition of the woman I was, but it is my supreme pleasure to continue tutoring, even in death. I did volunteer for this, after all. Kept some others from getting their hands on me, if nothing else."

She ended with her smile sly. There were those she tested and won against, when others lost, her state was a final victory that denied them the prize of her. Jon returned the smile, "I like to ask, when I can. Lets get to it."

Jon spent the next hour or so sparing with the woman, shooting fireballs and lightning at her, while he responded to her light attacks with Farengar's-Ward, the name for the spell he came up with. Derivative and procedural, but functional and distinctive that worked near perfectly with the local language, a trick of the enunciation. Lydia was practicing her healing spells on friendly and clean Skeevers that had residence in the practice hall for just such a purpose. She was sitting in a small pile, petting the critters as she ran her healing spell over them, giving them bits of cheese every so often. Jon let her know what he thought of the sight. She replied in kind.

J'zargo walked in and couldn't help his snicker at the sight and smell of the room. He said, "Hail, friends of Tolfdir's-Party. J'zargo has something that might help us. A scroll. A fire cloak that should have greater power against the undead, for the next tomb we find. Perhaps the Tutor would volunteer as a test subject."

"Only a fool trusts a single tool." Lydia sagely agreed with her sage master's words, still cradling a Skeever that had fallen asleep in her arms.

Jon said, "If you're alright with that."

She said, "The Tutor, I like that. I'll even take it as a name. Of course I volunteer. Things are a little skewed as a ghost, and that sounds like a fun time. Its always nice to be asked first, however."

J'zargo hesitantly said, "J'zargo warns, the scroll is completely untested. The user is as much a test subject as the target."

Jon didn't hesitate, "I'll do it. I have the best chance of surviving with all my juice."

He took the scroll and the Tutor asked, "Juice?"

Jon leaned in and whispered, "I'm a Living Divine. Before, I met the definition of a demi-god, strength of ten men, where I come from. Then I was brought here, and had a dragon soul rammed in me. One of a kind, I am. Only possible explanation. I remade my shield-maiden on accident. A normal Dragonborn couldn't do that."

She had a shocked, yet bemused expression. You don't become the immortal Tutor of Winterhold with a life of quiet study. She quietly replied, "And it sounds like you only just figured this out. Looks like daddy saw some things they didn't like, and decided to spank. Not the first time, but definitely the hardest. Now come on and hit me with your best shot, its been a while since I had a good opponent." Realistically, this is just a normal Tirdas for her.

Jon stood at the ready, and the rest of the party stood back. Jon cracked the scroll, and a sheath of fire wrapped itself him. It was feet in diameter, whiter, hotter than a normal spell flame. It instantly popped the Tutor with a cry of pain and pleasure, and it was burning him. Another second and it would begin burning him to the bone.

"FUCK! FUS"

Blue force hit the ground below his feet, and caused a near circular indent into the ice and magic hardened stone. His ploy worked, however, it was simple physics. The force that smashed into ground reflected back near perfectly around him, the force wave washing over him, and dispelling the fire around him. He fell to his knees, his robes burnt and in taters, second and third degree burns over most of his body.

"Jon!" Lydia yelled as she put down the now awake Skeever and ran over to him with a healing spell.

J'zargo had to take a couple steps back. He stammered, "J'zargo is sorry. He is sorry. He did-"

Jon cut in though heavy breaths while his own physiology and Lydia's magic repaired him, "J'zargo. You. Warned. Me. I. Knew. The. Risks. That's. Why. I. Took. Them."

J'zargo hesitantly nodded as a Professor, a Breton, busted into the training hall. She ran instantly over to the obviously injured Adept, happy to see another already healing. She said, "What happened!"

Jon could speak mostly normally now. He alone would answer for his Party, "A scroll. We were testing it. Had a little more power than expected. I'll be fine, shortly. I'm the Dragonborn as you no doubt can see, and used a shout to dispel it. It wasn't anyone's fault. I volunteered despite the risks, because I knew I could do that." Guessed in the moment, more like, he thought.

She began running her own healing spell in tandem and said, "Alright. Good. Thank the Divines there wasn't another incineration. Its been a while since we had one, and its never good when it happens. I was worried there would be an uptick with a full class. I'm Mirabelle Ervine, by the way. Master wizard. I just entered the main hall for a lecture when I felt the blast. Good thinking, and the training hall gets a new Divines-blessed scar. Been a while since we had that too."

Jon chucked as he got up. Lydia already knew, and the others of the room already mostly knew. With his body healed, he striped his rags off before walking to the summon rune and calling back the Tutor. She appeared in front of his Divine form with a hungry look and smile, cursing herself for every choosing this and missing out on it.

Jon saw and said, "You would have to get though her first. Can you talk to J'zargo? Work out how to fix it so it doesn't kill its user?"

She said, "Certainly. That was simply marvelous, by the way. Exquisite." And took to Tutoring J'zargo, using her personal experience with the scroll to help tweak it.

Thankfully his enchanted kit was put off to the side before hand, not needing to wear it in a training room, so it was easy to pull his apprentice robes and put them back on. He said, "Thanks for busting in, Professor. Could I get new Adept robes sent to my room? It wouldn't do for the others to think I got demoted or something. I'll even pay for them."

She gave a smile at the chiseled form unfortunately getting dressed. That woman was lucky, and probably just as chiseled underneath, "For the man that saved Winterhold, and made that find? They'll be sent as soon as I'm done with lecture, no coin necessary. Try to not incinerate yourself again, Adept."

The room laughed as she left, and the Party continued what they were doing. Lydia went back to the Skeever pile, J'zargo worked on the scroll, and Jon tested some enchantment. He took various bits of Enchanted loot at the table, and broke them down, destroying the items in the process. Some tomes made mention that a master could disenchant an item with out destroying it, but only after many years of experience. Those that could weren't keen to share, and always adamantly said that it wasn't even something they could describe. Just something you feel out as you enchant. Jon didn't worry about those secrets. Just learning enchantments, and applying a few basic ones.

There was a problem though. He cast his flame Atronach. She Twirled from whence she came. Jon held up a closed fist when she jumped to meet the Tutor in battle. Who was this bitch with her Master's Party? She stopped at the orders of her Master, however.

She pulsed, "Master."

Jon said, "Call me Thane."

She pulsed, "Master."

Jon said, "Oh, I see how it is. And if I pulled out a fire resist potion?"

She twirled, "A fun time, Master. Please do."

Jon snicked, "Not right now. I read a Tome that said I can trap your soul and use it for enchantment. Over and over. Fire salts from your corpse as well."

She pulsed, "Please do, Master."

Jon asked, "But then wouldn't you be gone? In a weapon or trinket? Would I get another Atronach?"

She pulsed, "It will go back to it's realm. This is a projection that you may do with as you please, Master. Please use it, Master."

Jon said, "So both. You're both here, and your realm, and it only matters your perspective. A super-positon. The magika is energy that allows you to create and control this form, soul and all. You just need a wizard on the other end to supply the magika, so you can get out for some fresh air."

She pulsed, "Yes, Master. And you may use it however you please. Please use it, Master."

Jon didn't hesitate to shoot an ice spike at her head, and a soul trap at her stomach. Impaling and killing the Atronach. He saw a pulse of pleasure as he did, and the energy of her soul entered the soul gem he would use to enchant. He harvested her fire-salts, and got to work at the table.

Basically anything could be enchanted, and the work area had plenty of bits of hide of different kinds, thinner and smaller ingots of iron and steel. Jon repeated his summons and tested some of the enchantments he pulled off some off his loot. Satisfied with the practice, and Lydia and J'zargo ready also satisfied with theirs, he had an idea.

He pulled the Sanguine Rose and cast the last member of Tolfdir's-Party. There was a presence behind him, but not a challenger, and it sounded like it was helping one of the Party members. He said, "Thane, how may I serve."

Jon asked, "is there an effective range of this cast? Like if you get too far away from the staff?"

The Attendant said, "Usually there would be, because the source of the cast, staff or wizard themselves, is the anchor we use in the mortal Plane. I come from a Daedric staff, however, in more ways than one, I might add."

The Tutor laughed behind him, and he snapped around, finally recognizing the former challenger that once vexed Sam himself though her guile and wit. He said with an evil smile, "You! I remember you!"

She nodded, "And I remember you. The Tutor, they call me now."

The Attendant said, "The Attendant, they call me now. And your exploits are still told around the fires of Pleasure."

Jon saw where this was going, where he wanted it to go. He said, "How long is your conjure, Tutor?"

The Tutor said, "A couple hours. Longer than normal, but I'm not a normal conjure."

Jon said, "I'll recast you. I'll let you two catch up, for as long as you have."

They both laughed evilly, him pulling his broadsword, her pulling her ghostly fencing blade. Their last duel was a draw, happenstance, or her wit honestly, causing a distraction that let her escape with Sam's favorite mug.

As the Party left them to catch up he said, "Thank you, Thane. Sleep well."

She said, "Yes, indeed. You are my favorite students by far."

Their blades began to clash as the door to the hall closed.