There was a shrine to Talos not that far away from Fellglow keep. It was only a couple hours walk away. The Party woke late, after some mead and revelry to celebrate the victory, and they would lose time on the way back to the College, but they didn't really care. Lydia wanted to go, Jon was more than happy to oblige, and J'zargo was always going to support his friends.
On the away over Jon took a quick count of the loot they had taken. A lot of coin and gems, soul or otherwise. Near a full library worth of books and spell tomes, Lydia her own bound bow, as well as the three they were sent after. They also picked up plenty of alchemy ingredients. The mages had near enough to supply an army stockpiled. The Party left the weapons, armor, most of the food and ingredients, other things they didn't need on their journey.
Jon wanted to stop back in Whiterun, and perhaps unload some of his pack, and actually outfit his house, but he didn't want to take nearly a full day of extra travel to go back. Instead he left word with the guard to give his apologies to the Jarl for not stopping in while being in the Hold. He would manage for now.
The shrine in the forest before them was much the same as the one in Whiterun, as if they were made as a pair. Lydia bowed her head and began some hushed prayers to the statue, and J'zargo was holding his silence in respect. Jon was staring at one offering in particular on the shrine. He didn't know if the others of his party had noticed. He was sure one of them would have said something at the sight of the Stormcrown sitting in front of them. For some reason Jon could feel in his bones this was left here for him and no other. Scattered around the offering table were coin and gems, flowers of any kind, books, clothes, weapons and armor. But in the center was the aged copper piece that none dared touch, acknowledge, or even place their offerings too close to.
When Lydia finished her prayers, Jon asked, "Does anyone else see that?"
Lydia said, "See wha-what is that? Is that what I think it is?"
J'zargo said, "How did J'zargo miss that? He was not looking for it, and thus did not see it until now."
Lydia gave a shuddered whisper, "Jon. There's a reason Talos was named Stormcrown. He earned it though battle, like he earned his title of Jarl, then Emperor, then Divine. He was wearing that crown when he challenged the Jarl of Windhelm, and wore it until he took the name Tiber Septim. Its exactly like the tomes say, a crown of lightning and horns. Copper, that's why I was so excited to see you in it."
The crown of lighting was more a circlet of thorns, but they wouldn't make that connection if they have no Christian myth to describe it. It was not a solid construction, but rounded copper bars, on the thinner side, woven in an intricate and random pattern. The bars dipped though and around each other before terminating at jagged points along the full circumference of the copper circlet. The inside was worn flat, however, both from its crafting and from use. It was now aged blue-green, except from the inside where the Divines-blessed sweat of Talos's brow would work against in though his mortal labors. Two humble horns rose up from the forehead from the bolts of lighting, each braided from three strands, with their tips flaring out at the end of them. One of them had battle marring, and was slightly off angle from its unmarred counterpart.
There was blood on the angled horn. Not from the battle that caused it, but on the very tip, as if the man of dragon's blood intentionally pushed the tip of his thumb into it before leaving it there for another who would have need of it. Did Talos know he was coming, he wondered? Did Akatosh command this? He couldn't feel any Divine influence, not enchantment on the crown. Just the Divines-blessed blood of a Nord. Was that what kept it from notice by everyone who came here? Jon didn't know, he didn't care. This was meant for him, and he would take it.
He put his hand on the crown, feeling no foul play involved. A gentle burst of thunder rumbled in the distance as he did. He might as well take a pretentious name here and now, he thought, they would like that. He whispered, Divine Dragon's-Breath falling from his tongue, "I am Heracles Storm's-Lord, and I accept this gift from a fellow Divine."
The thunder in the distance became a crack of lighting before passing back into temperate and dry weather. The gods were pleased with what transpired, and what would continue to, "So, more heretics have come to pray to their false barbarian god. By the Treaty of the White-Gold Concordat, you are under arrest. Come with us, or die here. Please resist."
Divines-dammit, Jon thought. Not only did they distract him with treasure priceless beyond measure, the Thalmor were scary good to sneak their way to the Party as they had. More than a few Jon had crossed paths had an unnatural talent for stealth, and these armed and armored Thalmor were some of them. There were two in armor, two in robes, and they were all about to die. The problem is if they sent a runner with a report, or were confident enough that didn't think they had to. Word must not have spread though the Thalmor yet, or they would know who he is, and either not even try, or send out their dull insults before they assuredly slew the Dragonborn and his Party. Perhaps the agent at the College is rouge?
Jon turned around, hood back over his crown and eyes. His Party had also brought themselves at the ready, also kicking themselves for allowing the Thalmor to sneak up on them. With the voice of an angered god he said, "You dare defile this shrine with your presence, Thalmor? I will have words for each one of you. FUS RO DAH FUS RO DAH FUS RO DAH FUS RO DAH" Another crack of lighting in the distance leapt for joy from the ground. The Dragon's-Breath flowed from his every breath and down to the ground.
One by one the Thalmor were turned into a mist of flesh, metal, robes. The last robbed agent almost got a ward up and spell out, but she died all the same. Jon took a deep measure of his surroundings, now that he had been successfully ambushed. Well not so successfully, seeing as how they decided talk instead of acting. He suspected no folly, but that didn't mean there wasn't. The Thalmor as a whole were probably competent. If there was a runner, he wanted them dead. He cast Sanguine's Rose.
When the Attendant was called forth, Jon didn't let him get a word in. there was still Dragon's-Breath on his tongue when he said, "Attendant, you have two hours to sniff out a track. Find the bastard and run them down. If you do not before you have dispelled, then you will have failed me, and I will know of it."
The Attendant took a sharp breath at the Moment he had. Jon couldn't help a childish snicker, and the rest of the Party followed. The Attendant joined in on the laugh when the Moment has passed. He said, "Of course, Thane."
The Attendant took off running into the forest, past the carnage of the Thalmor he had another Moment looking at. He could only shake his head in wonderment as he found the track, and took off down it. The increase in his pace told Jon what he needed to know. There was a runner, and they could probably not outrun a Dremora Lord. Not one that lasted as long as the Attendant did, unless Jon was speaking, of course.
Lydia said, "Fuck em."
"Yes, J'zargo agrees. Fuck them in particular. But how did they sneak up on us? No one can be that good."
Jon said, "We were all distracted, and they were good. I think this crown was meant for me. I think it had some kind of charm that diverted attentions from it until I come along and spot it first thing. Something to do with the blood Talos left on it."
Lydia said, "I can't see any other possibility. It would be just like the Divines to leave their Chosen champion boons, or in this case, leaving their fellow Divine a symbol of his power. What better than the mortal crown of the last Chosen Divine?"
"J'zargo thinks the logic sound. Even Daedra always leave their champions boons. You know this from experience."
Jon said, "Akatosh decided to spank. Sam much the same thing, before the Tutor called them daddy. Who got it from who, with her being her. Not just the Dragons. Some things, plural."
Lydia said, "The Thalmor."
J'zargo said, "They deny the Divinity of Talos. Akatosh is a Mer god. He has chosen Dragonborn not of Man, but he did choose a Man to ascend to Divinity when they died. They would not have allowed it, if it was not their will. I do not imagine they like what they see."
Lydia said, "They chose Saint Alessia specifically to throw off the chains of Mer enslavement. Now they're going to enslave us again. The Second Great War was always a matter of time. As the ink dried it was a given, understood by both sides."
Jon said, "So they sent me. Picking someone who would become a Living Divine when given a dragon soul. Drive the point home. Dragons, Thalmor, a confluence of reasons. Every step I've taken, and continue to take, is why why was Chosen." It wasn't a realization that he hadn't thought of, but it was the first time he said it out loud. He was the Chosen of Akatosh for a reason.
Lydia smiled and put her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into its comfort. He heard the Attendant jogging back to the shrine as the Party talked, and the Dremora finally appeared from the surround forest.
The runner was impaled on his broadsword. He said, "I have succeed, and I personally present it's corpse to you, as an offering to my Divine Thane."
Jon smiled, "I am pleased with this offering of Thalmor blood, my Attendant. For this offering, you may praise my Divine's -Name during your Pleasure, which I know you do. Heracles Storm's-Lord, I am to those I wish to know it."
The Attendant needed the Pleasure now! He asked, "Shall I continue with the Party, Thane?"
Jon's smile turned evil. The Attendant knew what he was going to say. He would have Pleasure right now, in a different way. Jon said, "Yes, you shall."
The party began walking though the forest, back to the keep, and then back to their horses across the river. Jon said, "I think the Thalmor agent is rouge. The one at the college. He has some plot, and it's centered around the orb."
Lydia said, "I don't know if they would have tried if they knew what you are. Dragonborn, I mean. They might deny the Divinity of Talos, but the power of a Dragonborn is incontestable fact, even to Thalmor. That means he hasn't passed any word about it."
J'zargo said, "He doesn't want to be diverted from his scheme. If he passed that word, then you and the Party would be his top concern. Its had time to pass along the road, and that's something that every field agent would be told."
The Attendant said, "He would have to march to orders, and he'll have eyes directly over his shoulders. How he even makes in in Winterhold, I have no clue."
Jon agreed, "It's the ass end of Stormcloak territory. He would literally be strung up. My guess is he's stranded there. Probably because his plot is long standing, but now he cant leave the College."
Lydia said, "That suits him just fine. The orb is probably at the College right now. Everything he needs is there. Quarters, baths, food, doomsday artifacts the Falmer wanted so badly they sacked the city of their supposed friends for it, and still never found the thing."
Jon said, "The tome still doesn't know exactly what it was. Just that they found something. We know more, unfortunately. We need to get back to the college. Attendant, you may dispel. We have guard running towards us, and I don't feel like explaining your stench to them."
With any other master, he would grovel and defer. With his Thane, he simply laughed as he popped back into his realm, with an Oblivion of a story to tell Sam over some Pleasure. Praise Heracles!
The guard came though the forest. The younger brother was at the front of it. Jon said, "Hail, guardsman!"
The panting guard chuckled, "Guard-Sargent now. Head of Fellglow keep. Word just came before we heard the shouting. Is everything alright? The shrine of Talos is near here."
Jon smiled warmly, meeting the guard's eyes as he did, "Congratulations Guard-Sargent. Thalmor were staked out at the shrine. They payed for that folly. Praise Talos!"
"Praise Talos!" The group responded.
The Guard-Sargent said, "Bastards. No one ever confirmed they did, because no one ever even went in the first place, because they knew they did! I'll tell you, I know who's getting my steel after these dragons have been dealt with. Praise Talos!"
Jon smiled as the group responded again, "Praise Talos!"
Jon said, "Even their runner has been dealt with. You'll have a bit of time before they send someone else."
The group of guard nodded as they began marching to the shrine to pay their respects to the Ninth Divine for the first time in a while. Better him than me, Jon thought. A faint rumble of thunder took to the distance, a chuckle. Fuck, they can read my mind, he thought again. There was a strike of lighting in response. Yeah well fuck you too pal, he thought again, to no response this time.
The reached the crossing, and passed though a cheering watchtower. The Dragonborn had come, and cleared the keep that was rightfully a post of the Whiterun guard. The Party smiled and waved to everyone, especially the younger brother on the top of the tower with his Mer counterpart.
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party, Thane!"
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!" They all called back.
The Party took some more in rations, both to eat there, and the road. The guard was of course more than happy to offer it. Jon got 50 measure in bounty from the Jarl, a parcel in response to word that the Dragonborn was at the Towers, and storming the keep up the hill from them. The personal missive simply said, 'Thanks.' Jon of course dived out the bounty to the Party. J'zargo had also never had more coin in his life than with the Party.
It look almost a week of travel back to the College. It was more of the same, some bandits, some beasts, a night of passion in Windhelm, and finally back to the main door of the College. No dragons had presented themselves along the way, thank the Divines. He wondered what they said to each other about the attacks. Surely for immortal dragons that used to rule as gods, loosing three of your number permanently, in quick succession, attacking small villages and towns? It must rattle some scales.
Jon and the Party entered the main hall, and saw the orb floating above where the Lecture used to stand. In its place was a well of magika, probably uncovered for the use, and navy-blue magika slowly floated up and around the bottom of the orb. The sky-blue magika was still being released from the orb, and every once in a while it would pulse across the designs and runes. Tolfdir's was staring at it still, mentally trying to discern its nature.
That wasn't the Party's target right now, unfortunately. They proceeded up the steps to the library to the normal state of it. The perfect amount of dust, light to frame it, and arrogant looks to spoil the ambiance. How can they still be Adepts if they just disappear for nearly two weeks. Sure, they knew Tolfdir's-Party found the orb, but anyone could have done that. They did not earn those robes, or the happy look the Librarian was giving them, they all knew.
Jon leaned in for a more quiet conversation, "We found your books, the one we were looking for specifically, and a whole library besides. Including the personal notes of a conjurer that called herself the Caller."
Urag snorted, and leaned in himself, "What a stupid fucking name for a conjurer, Adept. I almost don't believe you, but any wizard arrogant enough to name themselves like that probably has something good in their personal notes. Did that bastard Orthorn die?"
Jon gave a sympathetic look, "Sorry, no. let him go, because books aren't worth killing him over, not to me at least. It would be your right if he was ever dumb enough to come back here."
Urag centered himself, the ever present blood in his eyes pulsing, "Alright, fair enough. The bastard was probably trapped, and looked like a sad milk-drinker. Did you find the info you were looking for in that tome?"
Jon shook his head, "Didn't tell us anymore than we already knew. Confirmed a fact we assumed."
Urag nodded as he inspected the stream of books that were coming from the packs of Tolfdir's-Party. He was actually not in a rage at this point. Even the ever threatening blood in his eye was gone. It was rare actually competent people attended the College. Even more rare for a Party of them.
He said, "Okay, most of these we already have, however I'm seeing a lot of notation, and that might as well be taking a second healer's opinion in the realm of magic. I mean that's literally what it fucking is in restoration tomes. This journal is indeed some good shit, and there's still a few tomes we don't have. Excellent find. I'll leave you the one tome, to give to the right hands. 30 measure for the lot."
Jon nodded and took his bounty. Urag wasn't afraid to raise his voice a bit, and show the subjects of his Plane exactly who had his favor, and why. Then everyone in the library understood. They were looking upon the proud members of Tolfdir's-Party. No wonder they were gone, they were actually out there, advancing the field of magic though practical applications, finding lost artifacts and tomes while they were all still studying theory. What did they do to earn those opportunities that they hadn't?
Jon split the bounty again, J'zargo smiling wide, and made way for the main lecture hall to the orb and Tolfdir. The Thalmor agent was leaning on a pillar off to the side. They both spared each other a contemptuous glance, the rest of the Party did the same.
Jon said, "Hail Professor, your Party has returned."
Tolfdir scoffed, "Hail friends! I heard you got up to some trouble on your trip. Word about a dragon-slaying. Where did you go? Not the fastest on word as you know, and I only got back myself a couple days ago."
Jon said, "Looking for a book. Took us to Fellglow Keep. It had some technicality lost knowledge, but only confirmed a fact we assumed. Here, there's a bunch of other stuff about the Nedes."
Tolfdir nodded as Jon passed the book off like it was a bottle of skooma. Jon heard a huff from the agent. Tolfdir's said, "That this was no doubt why Saarthal was sacked, but not what it is. No, I see the treatises that mentions this. The Atmorans wanted to keep it buried, the Falmer wanted it. Not even a name for the artifact. Blast, nothing more than we already knew."
Jon said, "Unfortunately, we're back at square one. Only thing we can do is ponder. Ideas Professor?"
Tolfdir said, "I was hoping you would ask, young man. I'm sure you noticed the markings. They're quite unlike anything we've seen before. Ayleid, Dwemer, Daedric, not even Falmer! Nothing is a match."
Jon felt the time of the room stop, and the presence behind him. He turned around to the same Monk that he met in Saarthal. The Monk said, "Hail, mage. We have pondered your question, and our counsel is the same. Stay your path. You consistently prove why you were Chosen to hold the power you do."
Jon gave a small bow in respect, and the Monk was offended at the deference he was being shown by the Living Divine. Jon said, "Thank you, Monk, and thank the rest of your Order on by behalf. Now, I assume you have more relevant information, but I warn you, that agent behind you has some kind of plot. I don't know what, but I smell the spy craft on him."
The Monk said, "He no doubt does. It is why I am here. We do not typically intervene in affairs like this, it is an affront to some in the Order. However the situation is now dire. You must take direct action were we can not, and will not. The world is not ready for this, and mostly likely never will be. It must be protected from misuse. The future is as uncertain for us, as it is for you as it relates to this...Eye. Only the Augur of Dunlain can provide the answers you need. I must go now, mage. With the Eye, this communication is even more taxing than our previous talk, and I did not think it possible at first."
Jon nodded, and the Monk was smart enough to give him a second to reorient himself, so the agent suspected no folly. Tolfdir's continued, "Quite curious Indeed.
The Party felt it, but now they were used to it. They carried on like nothing happened. One didn't. The agent said, "Did you feel that?"
Tolfdir's hesitated the perfect amount of time, "Feel what? The only thing I can feel is the magika coming from this orb."
Lydia said, "I didn't feel anything."
"Nothing here."
"J'zargo has felt nothing."
Tolfdir's said, "Are you well, Ancano? You've been at this for as long as I have. Perhaps some rest? I don't expect to be to much longer before I get some myself."
Ancano scoffed at the suggestion out of habit, but the old fool wasn't wrong this time. He marched out of the main hall and to his quarters, letting the Party analyze the find without him. The fool didn't recognize the runes, but he did. At least what they were, if not what they meant. His plots continued while they were still slipping in the mud. But they were up to something, however, and he could smell it on them. He would need to be guarded.
When Ancano left the main hall, Tolfdir said, "What did the Monk say?"
Jon whispered, "I need to find the Auger of Dunlain. They apparently have answers."
Tolfdir's eyes went in shock. He said, "My, that is not a name I have heard in a long time. He's in the Midden. Do give him my regards when you speak to him. There's a trap door in the Hall of Countenance. It's the tower with our quarters and offices. You should be able to walk right in as long as you stay on the office levels. I imagine you three may even get some more quarters there soon. You are not apprentices after all. Its not just for the professors, but more advanced students and other scholars as well."
Jon said, "Ancano has a residence there."
Tolfdir's nodded, "Yes, perhaps wait a bit, and ensure he has taken his rest. He has been at this long, and will need to sleep."
Jon asked, "Why is he here in the first place? I assume he was stranded on the onset of the civil war, and hasn't left the campus."
Tolfdir's air quoted, "Advisor to the Arch-Mage. Sent by the Thalmor."
Jon scoffed, "So a spy, obviously."
Tolfdir's sagely nodded, "Obviously. I may not be versed in such matters, but I am no fool. I always suspected he had something else going, past being a spy for his masters. I knew as soon as I saw this that it's what his plot centered around. That's why I said you never know who you can trust."
Jon said, "He has the Arch-Mages quarters bugged. He knew of Tolfdir's-Party right off the bat. He was hiding in the alcove when I took the word. The only time anyone on campus said that, at that point, was me telling the Arch-Mage that the Party found this. The Monk called it the Eye. I imagine because they already have orbs, and they do different things. Sounded like he made it up on the spot."
Tolfdir's said, "We have to tell the Arch-Mage."
Lydia cut in. She had enough guard experience to know better. She quietly exclaimed, "No! We cant, Professor. I'm sorry, but if his bug goes dead, he'll know we're onto him. I saw it all the time on the guard. A little thing that lets the criminals know their about to be had, and they disappear. Go to ground. I imagine if he really wanted to leave and make it back to Imperial lines, he would."
Jon said, "She's right professor. All we can do is wait until he gives us a reason to end him and his plot. He'll do it eventually."
Tolfdir's said, "Okay, I see your point. I just fear that when the reason is given, it's because his ploy is at a crescendo, and we wont be able to stop it."
Jon gave his cocky grin, "Professor, this is mother fucking Tolfdir's-Party. No pissant spy is destroying the world on our watch."
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party."
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party."
Tolfdir found confidence he didn't have before. What was he thinking? A Living Divine, his demi-goddess shield-maiden, and a destruction master who doesn't know it yet? That Thalmor doesn't stand a chance, he thought.
"Alright, Party. Your leader is going for some much needed rest. My window faces the courtyard. I usually keep my curtains closed for that reason. If you see them open, then I know for certain Ancano is in his quarters. I walk past them, and I'm still good of hearing. Good night, and stay safe in the Midden. It is a dangerous place."
The Party nodded solemnly at their leader, heeding his words. They all took to the cafe for their own much needed food, and a bit of rest. They all ignored the arrogant looks, at this point. They were Tolfdir's-Party, Adepts every one, and they did not answer to apprentices with little initiative to do more than study while they advanced the field of magic though practical applications.
After about an hour or two, they walked back into the courtyard, and saw the Professor's curtains wide open. The Ancano was in his quarters, and they would hopefully slip into the Midden without his notice. Jon didn't count on that, though. It was likely Ancano knew of the Auger, and already went there, and thus had some means of being notified when someone else delved after secrets very few knew of.
The Party entered the Hall of Countenance, and thankfully there were no others prowling about on the ground floor, yet. They quickly made their way to the stairwell, and saw the trap door Tolfdir had told them of. One by one, they quietly slipped down the ladder and into the deep of the College. Jon was first down, and cleared the corridor before whistling to the others that the could proceed. It was dark, with no light, natural or otherwise, but that wasn't a deterrent to those of dragon and Khajiit eyes.
"J'zargo can smell the undead here. His scroll is ready. This time he will test it personally."
Jon said, "Yeah, looks like a lager room up ahead, and sound like a bunch are in it. Probably steps that go down."
"J'zargo will take point, if that is okay."
Jon nodded, and the Party cast various support spells before slowly creeping though the corridor. It was very long, and it led into the larger room Jon spied. There was another room yet beyond some archways, with an even deeper pit for the floor. That room beyond was the way forward. He spied passages to other places, but he didn't want to be down here any longer than necessary. He didn't think the Party wanted to either.
The crouched down as they looked over the edge of the drop to the floor of the pit. It wasn't far, they could all make it easily, but there were nearly twenty Draugr milling about on the floor of the place. So far they suspected no folly. The Party crept back a bit to speak so softly only those of Augment or Khajiit ears could hear.
"J'zargo can make the drop, and he's sure the scroll works this time. You saw what it did to the Tutor."
Jon nodded, "Okay, you make the drop, and hug the wall. They'll come to you, I'll be right above, ready with a shout. Lydia, cast your bow. You need the practice with it, and you're plan C. Get in position, and wait on my mark. Make sure you're ready for bright lights in this dark. It will be like a flash bang going off in our faces, and I assure you that will affect us, Lydia. More than others. Shield your eyes until you adjust."
Lydia silently cast her bow. The tome they found in the barrow was the first thing she read during her studies in the library, before her actual topics of study. J'zargo chugged a potion of fire resist, two even, just in case. He hopped it didn't reflect on his confidence to the current Party leader, but he knew Jon, and learned much from Tolfdir as well. They would want him to take every precaution, no matter his confidence.
The Party got into position, and Jon gave the order. J'zargo dropped straight down off the wall, and every hateful blue eye turned and rushed the intruder to their crypt. J'zargo smirked and cracked the seal on his scroll. Nearly Divine fire wrapped it self around him and fried immediately the Draugr with in its several feet of rage. The undead lucky enough to not be caught in the blast of the scrolls power ran away, also immediately, and into the passages that Jon didn't want to go down anyway.
"Sound off."
"J'zargo is well, friends. Very well indeed."
Jon and Lydia were both still blinking out the spots of their eyes, despite the shielding they attempted. It was a very bright fire, in a vary dark crypt. Jon said, 'Good. Lydia?"
She had simply closed her eyes, instead of futily trying to blink the spots way. She said, "Give me a moment. You were right. I near went blind, even covering my eyes."
Jon smiled, "Yeah. One of a couple disadvantages to our nature, even before getting dragon eyes. Sure our scenes of hyper-tuned, but so is our sensitivity. It's not the hardest thing to overload them. In fact, that was basically the number one strategy, once they were cornered. The stupid fucks rarely went to battle with helmets, let alone hearing and eye protection. Then comes some big fuck with the Augment equivalent of a room temperature IQ, and he's in full kit with a bunch of party favors and his little Armalite. They didn't like the clip of ammunition put into em."
Lydia huffed a bit at the joke she almost got. She said, "Alright, I'm good."
The pair hopped down, "J'zargo understands flash bang, party favors as we have many such things, but Armalite and clips of ammunition? A kind of repeating crossbow?"
Jon asked, "Do you have those?"
"Not that J'zargo has seen, but it is not hard to imagine the concept."
Jon said, "It's a rifle. A metal staff with moving parts. You saw how fast my arrow moved, imagine hundred of small bits of metal coming at you like that in a minute. In the hands of nearly every warrior. How we move now? That how you had to move if you wanted to survive. A lot of my kind fought to win, I didn't. They didn't understand that's what it was all about. You and the people next to you surviving. They trusted their superiority over their training."
J'zargo nodded, deciding not to pick at the memories. He imagined we would on want that if he was on the other end of these rifles. It was as if every warrior held ancient power in their hands, and he was happy to have a survivor of such things next to him. It increased his own odds of survival, not that his relationship with the Party boiled down to coin, food, and strength in numbers, but road clans always had to think a certain way if they wanted to survive their own trials.
Jon said, "Alright, lets go. There's power coming though that door, I can feel it."
Lydia said, "Even I can. J'zargo?"
"J'zargo can not feel what you feel. At least not yet. As you say, your senses are hyper-tuned. Better than Khajiit in some cases, just as good in others." He ended with his own cocky smirk. The competition wasn't quite over.
Jon and Lydia returned it, and the Party went through the door, and into the Midden Dark. Jon was on point this time, with Lydia in her usual place. While the Guard-Sargent made a good joke, he only really trusted one to hold his Dragon's-Rear. Derivative and procedural, but functional and distinctive. A trick of the enunciation that worked near perfect with the local language.
The passage was shorter, and made a sharp left turn to further in. At the turn there was a totem set into the corner, made of human bones. Legs and arms the whole way though made a facsimile of a human skeletal structure, and rib bones made a flaring crown around the unfortunate person's skull. Jon didn't want to touch it. Look at it. Destroy it. He wanted to pretend it didn't exist. He had seen things, depths of cruelty, but this totem was evil, despite the lack of any kind of magical or celestial power coming from it. Like the charm on the crown. The evil just existed in this thing, on a deeper level than even he could perceive. It didn't even smell of corruption, or decayed bones at all. He wanted no part of it, and the uncomfortable shuffles of those behind him only reinforced it. They wouldn't even speak of it, they all mutually decided.
After the turn there was an icy bridge that crossed a chasm in the ice. The Party took careful steps across it, never once losing their footing, and climbed an upward slop in the path. Just as they came within sight of the next room, a hollow voice rang out, no doubt the Auger of Dunlain.
It said, "There is no help for you here."
Jon immediately replied, "I'll be the judge of that." There was no response.
They entered the room, and found the path diverging. One side went upwards, one downwards. The downwards path was were the energy was coming from. As Jon got closer, he could feel it out better. It wasn't Divine power, but it was some kind of Celestial power, like the Mage. The entity might even be capable of granting blessings, but Jon didn't suspect it ever would. It obviously didn't want to be bothered, and Jon would oblige considering where it even is, but the Auger had critical intelligence Jon needed. Thus it would be spoken to, whether it wanted to or not. A pitched battle, Jon errantly thought.
Just as they began to move down the steps, it called out again, "There is no solace, in knowing what is to come."
Jon attacked again, "I know exactly what is to come. Some Thalmor dick-wad is going to blow up the world, either intentionally, or accidentally due to his arrogance." There was still no response to his attacks. Jon kept a keen eye and ear out for any flanking maneuvers.
The way down was short, thankfully for the Party. This place did not want them, and they did not want to be there. But their current party leader was right. The Thalmor will be stopped. The stairs cut down into an ice cave, and just on the other side was an alcove with the door that contained the power of the Auger.
It called, "Your perseverance will only le-"
Jon had almost had enough. He was about to choose violence, "Pal, if you don't let us in to talk like reasonable people, I'm going to shout this fucking door down and get real unreasonable. I do not want to be here, but you have information I need. I already told you I figured out the plot. Now I need to stop it. Don't think your ass isn't also on the line here from his schemes."
"You persist. Very well. You may enter."
The Party walked in and beheld the Auger of Dunlain. It was a glowing ball of blue-white light, floating above a slowly churning pool of magika. Jon felt more assured of his assumptions. When the Mage blessed him, it was the same blue-white Celestial power. Divine power, such as his Dragon's-Breath, and the word walls, had a tinge of orange underneath it, strands really. Jon wondered if they're was a hierarchy. Of course there was, he thought. You don't call yourself the Chief of the Divines when others rival your power.
Jon said, "Thank you. Tolfdir gives his regards, by the way. My apologies, but I'm on a time table now, and this place isn't very welcoming. We will leave as soon as we know what we need to know."
"Give him mine, as well. The Thalmor sought the same you. Knowledge, the thing all who wield magic seek. His approach was very different, however. Let us see if your questions are any better."
Jon deiced to try the direct approach, "What is that thing?"
"The Eye of Magnus. Also known as the Mage. He was the Architect of Mundus. When the Divines realized they would have to sacrifice much of their power, they were already committed. Many died, and Magnus fled to Aetherius near the end of the beginning. Where he did became the spring though which all magika flows from. Lorkhan, also known as Shor, was the instigator of this, a trickster they called him for convincing them. He was punished, and his Divinity was stripped from him. He now presides over Sovngarde, the afterlife of his favored Lessers. He was the first god of Man, before Talos, and before you."
Jon had a lot to process here. He at least called the anomaly that fed magika into Nirn. And the Auger called him from the get go. He asked, "How do I stop Ancano. What do I need to render the Eye safe."
The Auger laughed, for the first time in a long time, and his halls rumbled in response. Shit, Jon thought. There's no way they didn't feel that up there. Now he's been made due to a verbal faux pas. He couldn't exactly hold it against the Auger.
"You do not render the Eye of Magnus safe. You only bury it away, and hope it is never found. Like Ysgramor did. Like you must to do when you have finished this path you travel. I doubted you at first, but I see now your will is singular, and you have the Divinity to match it. If you wish you avoid disaster, to save your College and Nirn, you require the Staff of Magnus. It is the only tool which will let you peer though the Eye without being blinded. Take this Knowledge to the Arch-Mage. Now begone from my realm."
The Party all nodded and left the Auger to his Dunlain. It was a shorter trip back, but not so short. They still kept their keen eyes everywhere but the totem they had to pass again. Instead of trying to find a way back to the carpeted room though the various passages, they performed basic obstacle course maneuvers. Lydia heaved Jon up, the she jumped to catch his hand and heave her considerable weight up, then J'zargo last. He did not have the strength to haul up nearly a combined Imperial ton, up the wall. All he could do was be pulled up.
Before they exited the Midden proper, Jon asked, "What are we going to do."
Lydia said, "We got made with that laugh. No way in Oblivion Ancano doesn't connect the dots, even if he never mentions it."
J'zargo said, "The only thing we can do is go to the Arch-Mage, but how do we do that without revealing our whole play. J'zargo does not know."
Jon said, "I command the Arch-Mage. Quietly. Go in full force, metaphorically of course."
Lydia said, "You are Heracles Storm's-Lord. But how are you going to do that quietly."
Jon said, "Missives. We write after I tell him to keep his fucking lips shut, peacefully. Don't need words for that. Just some signs, polite ones. You two go back to quarters. I'm going to the Arch-Mage. I'll be waiting for you, Lydia my shield."
J'zargo scoffed, while Lydia smiled coy. Jon climbed the sturdy ladder and poked his head from the slightly raised trap door. He didn't see anyone, and it was starting to get late. He cast a muffle spell to be sure, his Party did the same, and they all quietly slipped from the dark, and into the light of the campus.
No one was on the ground floor, and only a couple in the court yard. No rats were hiding in alcoves either. The Party made a clean break, and Jon found himself in front of the Arch-Mage's door. No one else was around, and his hood was fully down, revealing his Divine persona. He knocked confidently.
"Enter, and this better be good!"
Jon stepped into the office, and saw the Arch-Mage in some night clothes. He said, "Okay, this is definitely interesting."
Jon put his finger to his lips. He then blew a small amount of Dragon's-Breath onto his palm.
The Arch-Mage's eyes went wide. The Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold recognized Divine power when he saw it. And he knew from his hobbyist studies a 'normal' Dragonborn never did anything like that. It would have been mentioned, for sure. The only thing that kept him from thinking this was a second coming, the lost Stormcrown completing the look, was the fact that the Divine Adept in front of him was a Redguard.
He was about to speak when a finger went back up to Jon's lips. He then put the finger to his ear, and looked around with an eye of curiosity. I wonder where those ears could be, he almost said.
The Arch-Mage was no fool. He motioned for his desk so the conversation could begin of earnest. Jon took the initiative, grabbing for a card and quill. This would be a short conversation.
Jon said, "Eye of Magnus dangerous. Need Staff of Magnus. Ancano not to be trusted."
Savos paled. There was a day when good days became not so good days. It was his fault. He pushed forward despite the folly of it. Now another Party like his was about to commit the same folly. But now it was critical. He knew Ancano couldn't be trusted. He was Thalmor. But his quarters being listened in on, necessitating this ritual, blind sided him as much as the dredging of bad memories. Anyone that took a glance at the Eye knew it was powerful. Whatever scheme of Ancano's needs to be stopped, but they had to run the gauntlet first.
What was he even thinking. The man came in here and proved he was a Living Divine right off the bat, to ensure he got what he needed to stop it from becoming a disaster like never seen before. He said with a couple tears in his eyes, "Labyrinthian"
Jon nodded solemnly, and Savos chucked the card stock into a nearby brazier. As Jon got up, Savos said, "Thank you Adept. This Parcel was indeed important, and I apologize for my outburst. I give you a circlet, for a job well done."
Jon respectfully took the gift, and made his way back to his quarters. No rat was hiding in a hole to greet him, and when he was greeted by the sight and smell of his quarters, he considered it a mission success.
His blood was flowing and he slowly took his kit and robes off. She had already reached her climax once, or twice, waiting for her sword. The Stormcrown stayed on during the gallop. He would ride no other but this sturdy Whiterun mare.