After four more days of hard ride, the weary Party did not like the sight they were rushing their steeds towards, their shoes hooves thundering across the Icy Imperial main road. There was smoke rising from the town, and all could hear the sounds of battle and panic. There was no dragon however. Just as they crested a hill before the town, Jon just caught a glimpse with his dragon eyes. There were ghosts and other magical wraith-like anomalies attacking with near impunity.
But not so near. Wizards, both master and apprentice, were firing back with all their might, a couple lying dead in the streets. The guards lucky enough to have some blend of special steel were holding the line next to them in close melee, while others got others to cover. There were also townsfolk and adventurers, again specially armed, holding the rear of the battle line against their own foes, with some wizards supporting them.
The Jarl was leading the rear formation personally, rallying them, letting his guard handle the main line of attack, from the college. If they weren't in battle, and if wizards hadn't already died next to him, he would have that keep stormed, and every one strung up. But he believed them when they said a Thalmor was the cause of this, and he saw the courage of even the youngest and most rattled of their number. Together, they each refused to submit in the face of their annihilation, each earning their place in Sovngarde, and the right to call Winterhold their still proud home.
The Party steeds picked up even faster. One of their number came from that still proud city, their colt-friend, they they too would not suffer it attacked. Jon put on his mask, hiding his face, and rode until he got close enough to the gate that he was sure the city could hear.
"THE DRAGONBORN STANDS WITH YOU! FUS"
The city let out a cheer of havoc, and took again to their task of war. The Dragonborn stood with them.
Jon and the Party rode though the city towards the main square where the line was holding. As they passed any ghosts or anomalies, charged sky-blue, were were either hacked with dragon-bone and sky-forged steel, or shot with fire from J'zargo. About a dozen enemies fell this way before they reached the Jarl's battle line. They were cornered in the main square near the entrance to the Jarl's still proud keep, the last keep in the city not swallowed in the Collapse. One side towards the College was the guard and the majority of the wizards. On the other, the militia grade force lead by the Jarl.
The Party took to foot as the enemies got thicker, jumping off their steeds and sending them away. J'zargo kept his spell fire up until he moved to climb to the roof for superior position. Jon and Lydia fought side by side with steel and spell fire.
The anomalies were the first to charge. They kept up a ranged assault, forcing the lovers to keep their wards up and steady. They gave up their advantage quickly when they closed the gap. Steel and bone lashed out against their enemies. Swipes and stabs with lighting fast precision, dodges with lighting fast reaction times, the simple anomalies never stood a chance.
J'zargo reached his perch, and began pouring the fire in with pinpoint accuracy. He let the lovers take care of themselves however. No matter his accuracy, he didn't want to try and hit the quicker and faster targets near them they were handling fine. They could be hit with friendly fire. He instead focused on the bigger ghosts. They were easier to hit, and closer to breaking the line.
Jon and Lydia moved forward through the melee, and found the Jarl as he executed another ghost, and chopped another anomaly. He was using his own sky-forged steel, and a fire-salted war axe in his off hand.
Lydia and Jon took up positions around him, their steel slashing, spells firing now there weren't as many anomalies, Jon lighting from the staff and Lydia ice. Jon said though his mask, "My Jarl, apologies for being late to the party!"
The Jarl said with a panted scoff as he cut another enemy of Winterhold down, "I'm just glad you showed up! They said there's a Thalmor bastard in there with an Eye! Kill that son of a whore and I'll Thane you! Should have done it when you slew the dragon! Now go, we'll hold!"
"Lydia!" Jon yelled, and tossed her the Staff of Magnus. She took it and used it to effect, in place of her spells, immediately, guessing what Jon was going to do.
Jon hacked another ghost while pulling Sanguine's Rose from his staff pouch. He cast it and said, "Attendant, hold here with the Jarl! If he dies and this line collapses you will have failed me!"
He didn't hesitate to begin the slaughter, with a heavy laugh. He said, "My Jarl! They call me the Attendant!"
The Jarl scoffed again as he continued his own killing. He wasn't going to question it. A Dremora ally now? Why not. Maybe he want's to be Thaned as well. At least he was summoned by the Dragonborn. That he could trust at least, and the way he was handling that broadsword.
Jon gave J'zargo a sign to hold his position, and support the main battle. J'zargo barely acknowledged the order, preferring to follow it immediately with more spell fire. He was jumping to new positions every so often, to get better angles on the now dwindling targets.
Lydia tossed the staff back, and they both charged thought the main battle, slashing and spelling any enemies in their way. The weary guard line rallied around the Dragonborn returned for them, finding new vigor. The wizards rallied around the Adept as well. They understood now. How wrong they were, how arrogant they were. Hail Tolfdir's-Party, they began to cry as they charged forward with the lovers to take back their home.
"FUS RO DAH" And a pack of ghosts and anomalies near the bridgehead simply dispelled away, as if on the ice cold wind.
Winterhold let out another war cry in response, as some broke away from the main battle line, to hunt the last few of the intruders in their still proud streets. Some that hated the College, for what they assuredly did, would cry when they saw the bodies of young wizards, next to young warriors and civilians alike, piles of ectoplasm next to all of them.
"Over the bridge! Over the bridge! One by one! Watch, your, footing!" Lydia cried out from her carved helmet, with her own battle tone.
Jon took the front, with her behind him, the Master-Wizard behind them, Jarl behind her, Attendant behind him, J'zargo last, and all of Winterhold with them.
"FUS RO DAH" And more enemies streaming across the bridge fell before the Dragonborn.
Winterhold cried more proud havoc in response!
"FUS RO DAH"
Havoc!
"FUS RO DAH"
Havoc!
"FUS RO DAH"
Havoc!
"FUS RO DAH!"
Havoc! They cried Havoc in response! They Dragonborn had come!
The host streamed though the grounds to defeat the enemies of Winterhold. The Dragonborn had cleared the way, but he was not the only brave soul in Skyrim. Jon, the Party, and Maribel charged toward the door of the main hall, its windows glowing with ominous sky-blue energy. Jon payed another moment of respect to Magnus, the man that gave him magika in the first place, and to the body of the Arch-Mage lying next to his own pile of corpses.
The main door was sealed shut, no doubt with magics. It meant little, "FUS RO DAH"
Another cheer of Havoc!
Inside the entry was actually clear of enemies. Urag was in front of the sky-blue and blue-white barrier around the lecture hall. He was screaming in rage while hammering dual handed with enchanted Orsimer war axes. He turned around for a moment, an ocean of blood and rage in his eyes. That fucking Party! Well he's fucked now! He turned back around and started hammering away.
Jon needed the man calm, not dead. He used a saved soul, and understood the true meaning of Kyne, the word totally from Shroud Hearth, "KAAN"
The green wave splashed over the Librarian, and he stepped back while taking heavy breaths. He said, "What the fuck did you do to me, Adept."
Jon said, "I used a shout. The first word of Kyne's Peace. I'm dropping this barrier, and going in. I don't need you getting your dumb-ass killed when I do."
His face twitched, and the rage began to boil once again, "Yeah alight. Good point."
"Tolfdir, no." Lydia said.
Maribel said, "The old fool's last words were hail Tolfdir's-Party. He got the bastard talking while he was warding. He wasn't as powerful yet. Bought time for others to escape. We're probably only alive because of him. This all set off only ten minutes before you made your call. We're lucky you did. Thanks."
Jon nodded, "Everyone stand back, and stay in cover while you shoot. Wards wont help you."
The host got behind him, the Jarl even catching up. He wanted to kill the bastard himself, but the Dragonborn was right. He couldn't match that power with fancy steel. He would still take cover with the rest, and be prepared for any more enemies he can kill.
Jon hit the barrier with the staff, his ward hand ready, just in case. The Staff and Thu'um were his weapons here. The barrier popped, and the host began to move as ordered, into cover. Jon didn't hesitate to keep up his attack with the staff, aiming it first at Ancano. Tolfdir's body was lying off to the side, dead but not yet gone enough that Jon couldn't save him. He wanted to leave the man be, in his honored afterlife, but he knew what was up there. He would understand.
Ancano had both hands up to the Eye, it's energy pulsing though him as wind and lighting whirled around him. The Eye it self had opened more, and white hot sky-blue magika shined bight though every rune and imperfection.
He disconnected his one hand, and accepted the charge of the Staff. Jon called immediately that he was absorbing the power, instead of being absorbed by it. The man didn't even care about the other spell fire beginning to pour in. it was as if it was bouncing off him with a pulse of sky-blue energy.
"No please! Do continue!" Ancano shot lighting towards Jon, reflecting his attack near perfectly.
"FUS RO DAH" And the attack was dispelled, but Ancano behind it didn't seem to care about the Thu'um either.
Jon tried a second gambit. He shot the staff into the Eye itself. It glowed even hotter, accepting the key to its lock, but not in Ancano's favor. He was beginning to weaken, the spell fire beginning to hurt. He tired his own second gambit.
He shot sky-blue lighting directly at the Staff. Jon tired to ward. It was the only thing he could do. If he didn't stand still and keep this Staff working, then Ancano was functionally invincible. He would need a tactical yield, and then what the hell would happen to the Eye, and then happens in response.
The ward snapped instantly, and the lighting hit the staff. Ancano violently absorbed the power of it, and the Eye glowed hot now in his favor. A smaller barrier around the battle was erected, and a now injured Augment was thrown hard back against it. The Staff lost it's near glow entirely.
In only took a moment to reorient, his staff hand with second, near third, degree burns. Ancano said, "Thank you! Just what I needed! And you brought it right to me, hail Tolfdir's-Party I guess! I am a god now, fool!"
The Eye glowed brighter, and began puling between bright and very bright. Ancano shot a spell words Jon, "FUS RO DAH"
The attack was dispelled, but now Jon only had one option. He pulled his mask off. He wouldn't need it. He pulled his hood down. He didn't need that either. He stood up in all his glory. Heracles Storm's-Lord, he was. A wrathful god when pushed to it, he was. And this Thalmor had certainly pushed.
He cast his lighting cloak. It began to twirl and intermix with the sky-blue energy of the Eye, the charges forming and connecting. Jon thus began to absorb the power of the Eye himself. The Lighting around him started turning sky-blue, and it tended to settle around his eyes, and particularly around the Stormcrown. Every so often a bolt would flash from one of its tips, forming a temporary new prong of the crown.
Thunder, chucking, drummed in the distance. The Divines were so far pleased with what they saw.
Jon put his hand up, accepting the energy of the Eye, infusing it within him. The pulse of the Eye seemed to chuckle as well. It seemed the Mage was pleased with what he saw as well. It hurt unlike anything Jon had felt before, as every cell was electrified with the primordial energy. Not even dying to, and then recovering from, a dirty bomb, or the dragon attack, hurt as much.
In didn't matter to Jon. He shot the energy straight though his heart, and out his other hand towards Ancano. He responded in kind, and their attacks vied back and forth.
"FUS RO DAH" and Ancano's spell blew away, with a quick recast followed shortly.
"FUS RO DAH" And again.
"FUS RO DAH" And again.
Ancano was beginning to feel fear now, Jon began to smell and see. He lost and he knew it. He was trying to get his ploy off before Jon, the Dragonborn, actually arrived. Jon didn't care. He was going to die, "FUS RO DAH"
Jon's Eye charged attack, causing more burns and beginning to smolder his robes, connected with Ancano. It popped his connection to the Eye, and thus his protection. The combined spell fire atomized him in just over a second. His scream had only began when it was cut off.
Jon cut off his attack, and forcefully pulled his hand away from the power of the Eye, before falling to his knees. His staff hand was charred black, though he could thankfully feel it beginning to heal. There's no way it wasn't going to scar, he thought.
Lydia was the first to begin her run to her sword, "Jon!"
Others followed, and just as the got there Jon waved them away and got up himself, "Tolfdir! Lydia run your healing spells on him, now!"
She tired to grab him on his near stumble towards the Professor, "Jon, he-"
"Now!"
He fell to his knees before his friend, and gave him a quick once over. He was indeed dead. Lydia did as told, shaking her head a bit. She didn't know what Jon knew. He pulled out his dagger, and cut his less injured hand with the demonic blade. It sizzled on Divine blood, but served its purpose. Jon squeezed and let the blood fall into the mouth of the professor.
With a softer hand, given his strength, he began chest compression while Lydia kept up the healing, "Come on, you bastard."
He gave resuscitation with Dragon's-Breath, breathing and exhaling deep as he did, "Get up Tolfdir, come on pal."
"Jon."
"Keep casting Lydia, I know this will work."
"Jon."
"Damnit Lydia! Keep-"
Tolfdir took a deep breath in, much to the shock of everyone except Jon. Augment blood even before Divine blessing was potent enough to cure death. No matter blood type or species. He was only brought back the first time because of transfusions of his own blood while on life support. He was apparently brain dead for most of the day. Combine that with the very Divinity on his tongue? He only did this because of what he knew.
Tolfdir's began coughing as he was pulled up to a siting postilion by Jon, Lydia still frantically working her healing magics. How could she ever doubt her Divine Sword.
Jon tried to say, "Tolfdir, I'm sor-"
Tolfdir attacked, "No, young man. Don't be. I knew exactly why you did it. You knew what was up there, didn't you?"
Jon nodded, "Well I have word for you. I came across a guardswoman. She said she was at the watchtower, saw you charging in. We only just began to talk. She said, 'Shor's-Cave holds firm.' That's the word for you. She also said Torygg is the High-King of the place! Can you believe it! There's cover from the mist, and Torygg is the King of it. Incredible. Thank you, Jon. Thank you, my friend."
Jon and Lydia picked him up to his feat. Thankfully only a few were in the lecture hall with them. The Master-Wizard, the Jarl, some other professors, a few guard that already knew not to kneel, no matter the miracle they just witnessed.
Jon hesitantly asked, "Perhaps lets not put that In the songs. I defeated the villain, now pour me some mead like any other man."
They all burst out laughing at the levity, Tolfdir the hardest. Jon cried, "Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
Lydia finally forced her sword down to a seat in the stands, and began running her healing over his still magically smoking body. The Jarl came over, "Thanks, Jon. I hope I can call you that."
Jon smiled, "Please do, we fought next to each other. Thane Jon if you must use some kind of title."
The Jarl huffed and nodded, a man wearing the very Stormcrown just a Thane, "Thane Jon you are. I name you such, my friend."
Jon nodded, "Thanks, my Jarl. Sorry for not meeting after slaying the dragon. We were trying to get to Saarthal when it attacked, I wanted the word wall it had. That's were we found this, and set off a whole Chain Of Events."
Time stopped, and Jon felt the presence behind him. He turned at looked at the team of Monks at the top of the stand. The lead said, "What a Chain Of Events it was, Arch-Mage."
Jon said, "I don't remember anyone else calling me that."
The Monk smiled, "They will. You command the power of Magnus now. Its in your very fiber, just as being a Living Divine is. Only such a title befits the power of your magics."
Jon nodded, "Thanks for letting me know. So I assume the clean-up crew is here to take the Eye."
The team all scoffed, but with some mirth. A team of some of the most powerful mages that ever lived a clean-up crew. The Monk said, "Yes. It's potential for misuse had been unequivocally proven. We will take it and keep it safe. The world is not ready for its power."
Jon nodded again, "And me? I'm basically a walking Eye now. I literally saw infinity, and understand it as a Dovah understands words of power."
The Monk smiled coy, "We trust you, Arch-Mage."
Jon asked, "More philosophical question, before you go. You keep calling me mage, and Arch-Mage, but why not say Dragonborn, or Living Divine. Is it just because you view that power without superstition, as magic just more advanced? Its all magic?"
The Monk and his party all nodded. Jon said, "Yeah that's how I see me and these Divines/Princes. Sure they have unquestionable power, some of them maybe even worth worship, but at the end of the day they're just space aliens. A different species, and one just assimilated me, basically."
The party chucked again. The Monk said, "Perhaps that caviler attitude is how you have adapted so well. You take it at face value, as we do. Its simply power you use to achieve a task, such as saving Mundus from ruination, or your friend from a sullied afterlife. Thank you Arch-Mage. We will go. Good luck on your journeys, we will be watching with great interest."
Jon still wanted the final word, "Ah, as you may know, there's no difference between combat and conversation for a Dovah. That means I have to threaten you at least once. Do not make me regret trusting you with this. There isn't a hole in all the Planes I won't find you."
Time began again as the Monks solemnly nodded and vanished. Tolfdir was the first to respond, "The Eye! Where did it go! I wanted to at least inspect the runes a bit more while we figured out what to do with it!"
The Jarl spun around with everyone else, "Were is that blasted thing! It need's destroyed!"
Jon said, "The Psijic Order took it. They're going to keep it safe. They left the busted staff at least, for what it's good for."
The Jarl spun around again, "You sure we can trust them."
Jon made a show of pondering, "I think so. Have so far. They know what happens if we can't."
The Jarl have a hard smile to his new Thane. There isn't a hole in all the Planes. He said, "Good. I'll take your word for it, as long as that bastard is dead, and that thing is out of Winterhold. I've got a cleanup to go direct, I'll send your new Housecarl here. Maribel, I think relations will get a little warmer between Winterhold and the College. I never really thought you did it back then anyway. Natural disasters happen, and the College being protected is probably what saved any amount of Winterhold at all."
Maribel nodded, "Thank you, Korir. I'll make sure to be harder on the students going forward. Arrogant apprentices have never done the College any favors, but we aren't a military that cracks down personally unless they're a danger. Not anymore. Winterhold is our home, and they will respect it. Besides, warmer is the only thing relations can be, with your Thane our Arch-Mage."
The Jarl chucked as he took off to his city, personal guard in tow all silently vowing to never speak of what they saw. The Dragonborn, maybe even Living Divine, didn't want worship, and that is the only thing that would happen if they boasted of seeing the miracle.
Jon asked the gathering Professors, "You guys sure? I literally joined like a month ago. And a couple weeks before that I thought magic and gods as only myth for entertainment. Attended one fucking class taught by the greatest Professor that ever lived, I did."
The Professor, feeling young again despite his looks, said, "See? And now you're the fucking Arch-Mage!"
"Yeah and this jackass read half my fucking library in a single day!"
The assembled group laughed. Maribel said, "You just saved all of Mundus. You and Tolfdir's-Party. And you have the power of Magnus, the Architect! I can feel the power this close, like its the Eye. You can only be an Arch-Mage, might as well be our Arch-Mage."
Jon nodded, "Thank you, my friends. Lets take stock. Someone get clean-up crews going, if that hasn't already been done. Honor the fallen, you know the drill. Pick ourselves back up."
One of the professors peeled off to begin directing that effort. A wave to the Attendant sent him with her, for as long as he had. Jon said, "Now, I assume you guys basically run the College already? An Arch-Mage that takes sleep irregularly doesn't seem hands on."
Maribel nodded, "Basically. We could always ask input, if we could catch him, but he was more concerned with his personal research. He let us do our Jobs, and only took hold of something when needed."
Jon said, "Good. I'll be gone, except to resupply and visit because I need something. Keep doing what you're doing. All I ask, is that you officially join Whiterun's War Against The Dragons. I'm not asking you to train warriors, but they could use the help in terms of research, enchantment, alchemy, scrolls, staffs, all things you can do without being combatants. There's a whole class coming up that will need practical applications, this is the perfect opportunity, and I imagine Jarl Balgruuf will compensate you fairly for your efforts."
The professors all nodded, happy at the competence in their new Arch-Mage, some relieved. Mirabelle said, "What about the Civil War. Jarl Ulfric may not like that. Bulgruuf is technicality Empire."
Jon nodded, "A fair point, Master Wizard. Ulfric is committed to Whiterun's war. He will not interfere, especially if I am Arch-Mage. If you have to, promise him his cut of the output, and deliver it on time, with all expected wares. The dragons are a threat to all, and all need to be armed to defend themselves. 50-50 Stormcloak-Empire if that's what it takes. The College is neutral."
They all nodded again. Jon continued his assault, "Now, I recommend sending an attache to the Jarl's court. One to help Farengar with research. J'zargo, pal, I know you wont like splitting the Party, and you have your clan, but I need you in Whiterun. You've got power than can hurt dragons even without Divine mammoth shit."
The room chuckled again. J'zargo said, "The roads are not safe with dragons about. J'zargo accepts this task, if the Party leader agrees."
That dastardly Khajiit, Tolfdir thought, directing the spar to him in surprise. He smiled coy, "I second that. In fact I also recommend naming J'zargo Expert. I heard his tutoring on the way to Saarthal. There wasn't much we could teach him, even before this Crisis. He only has a bit more to learn before he's a Master. A couple more years experience really, since he's not hopped up on Magnus's power."
J'zargo smiled at the counter attack. The competition was lost, but it was a good fight. Maribel said, "Alright. J'zargo, you're an expert. You too Lydia. Any that can help bring a man back from the dead is one at least. New robes will be sen-HA!"
The room couldn't help losing themselves at treating the Arch-Mage, a Living Divine because what else could he be, and his blessed shield-maiden, like their still apprentices that just incinerated their robes, like Maribel knew Jon did, then and now.
Jon nodded, "I will not fit in Aren's robes. I need new ones made, along the same style, but the gi pattern like I'm wearing now, instead of a poncho. Fur insulated like his. Hood like his. Powerful enchantments like his. I'll also want my boots enchanted, with muffle in particular, and my shields equipment enchanted. Also make sure he has some special place of respect. Along with his Party, if you find the names of them in his personal notes. Two sacrificed their souls to keep the Lich imprisoned. He had the staff. If we had uncovered the Eye with him simply able to blast out of his tomb, he would have succeed in his own plots right off the bat."
Maribel said, "That will take a little time, to have your robes made. And we will put Savos with the other Arch-Mages. He certainly earned his place of honor there. You too Tolfdir. Thank you."
Tolfdir nodded. He did what he had to do, and he was rewarded with a powerful Divine blessing. He couldn't see as with dragon eyes, but he felt a vigor never experienced in his life, and felt like it would continue for many more decades. Hail Tolfdir's-Party!
Jon said, "That's alright. I plan on being here a couple more days. Rest. Real rest."
A woman cut into the verbal melee, "Ah, excuse me? Hello? I'm looking for Thane Jon. I have something I'm supposed to deliver, an important parcel."
Jon fired away, "I'm Thane Jon. Also Arch-Mage now."
The courier walked in, near as big a Lydia with a travel harness, light armor, steel, and a pack on her back. She said, "Yes, dragon eyes, right color. Could I see your seal Arch-Mage, this is direct from Jarl Bulgruuf, by way of Silver-Blood. You hands only kind of thing. Have to be sure."
Jon pulled his seal and showed it. She nodded, "Good, thank you Arch-Mage. That's it, got to go now. It was an honor meeting you, by the way."
Jon said, "Thank you. Here, some coin and gems for your trouble. Good sized sack here."
She eagerly nodded, happy to take coin from the Dragonborn himself for honest questing. She would centrally boast of this little adventure. The road isn't the safest for couriers, and a couple bandits met their match against her steel. Some beasts too.
The enchanted pack was part of the parcel, and it had a good weight to it. He gave a hand for the group to wait, and stuck his hand in. He felt for a note first thing. It said, 'Sword for a sword, shield for a shield.' Then he felt for coin. There was none. It seemed the shield was a bounty. Dragon bone, he expected.
It was more than a shield. He first pulled a helm, then a gauntlet, then finally the chest piece of the armor. It was scale configured to use as heavy armor. It was obviously meant for Lydia, based on the note. It offered much better protection than her steel, adequately covering her midsection, unlike her segmented steel that left and uncomfortable amount of her torso open. The chest was protected on it, so was the hips and most of the gut, but there was nothing but hide and fur where someone could just stab or slash into lungs. A normal blade wouldn't be a problem, sucks but survivable for an Augment. He didn't want to risk and enchanted blade causing real harm. He looked down at the lighting scars on his hands, and no doubt on the rest of his chest.
The crowd gasped at the armor plate fashioned from the bones of their enemies. Jon said, "Lydia, you wear your mother's steel, but based on the note this was meant for you."
Lydia didn't hesitate, "My mother would fucking haunt and kill me if I turned down dragon scale for her old steel. I'm keeping your offering as a helmet thought. Its a little unwieldy, and the horns don't appeal to me like something you grave-robbed does."
The room chucked, Jon said, "Okay, I need this scale and her sword enchanted for her. Again, muffle on the boots. Load us up like the god and demi-goddess we are."
The room continued cajoling, their Arch-Mage a god. An Imperial said, "Professor Turrianus, sir, Master Enchanter. I'll get you and you shield loaded up. Masters can get two on one, the test of it, and I did a lot of field study, as one says, before age caught up to me. I know just what a pair like you needs, and I agree on the muffle priority. Always came in handy."
Jon smiled, "Consider my ass kissed, Professor Turrianus."
The room laughed. Jon continued, "Here use these soul gems from me and her. They contain our friend in them, the Lord you saw with us. He would like that, and we have some bigger gems with him stacked."
The gathered professors continued at the absurdly of it. Jon said, "Enchant my sword as well, please. Lighting damage first, soul trap second."
The Master smiled, "I've got a special trap I know, it'll deal fire damage as well. Like three in one."
Jon scoffed, "You've already kissed my ass, Professor. You don't need to suck my cock as well."
Jon let the cheer continue for a moment before finishing, "Now, I will be going up to my quarters to fuck my shield and get some sleep. Come for us in three hours so we can join the party I can hear though the door in Winterhold. I expect it to continue for a while. I'd like a final word with Tolfdir's and J'zargo before we go. Dismissed, and damn fine fucking work people."
The room cheered before they took to picking themselves back up. What a day, most thought. Jon said, "J'zargo, thank you my friend. For everything."
"J'zargo is honored to have Partied with you, Jon of the house of Noonien-Singh. J'zargo came here to help his clan, and now he's a contender for Great Hero, like you. Plenty of coin to help J'zargo's litter too."
The Party smiled, the Khajiit never quitting. Jon said, "You are. All of you. Everyone that fights and refuses to quit. I am not the only Great Hero of this age. When you get to Whiterun, go to the Bannered Mare first thing. Give Hulda Thane Jon's regards; she'll know what it means. Go get some sleep yourself, Azurah be with you."
J'zargo smiled. He knew what Hulda knew. He said, "You as well, my friends. Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
Jon said, "Tolfdir, how do you feel Professor."
Tolfdir's smiled, "Better than I've ever felt. Like I've been blessed."
Jon and Lydia snickered. He said, "Okay, I want you to slap me as hard as you can. It's how I knew she was an Augment."
Jon stood, and to Tolfdir's credit he had the courtesy to hesitate. He slapped hard with all his might, and only barley moved the face of his friend. Jon said, "Okay, not an Augment, but you for sure have some extra juice in you. Take things slow for a bit to get used to it, and you'll probably need some extra food now. Starvation can sneak up on you if you think you're getting enough, but aren't."
Tolfdir's nodded sagely, "And I feel like I have a lot more life in me, most of another one in me at least. Wouldn't do to waste it by forgetting everything I learned through experience. Thank you, Jon. I know you don't like seeing it this way, but this is a gift, it truly is."
Jon said, "Yeah, I'm seeing this as a little more than a weapon like I did originally. If it was just using shouts, then yeah. But this is another level. The Order actually just sees it all as magic, however advanced. Religions might be true, but only because of magic, or Magus blowing a hole though space-time with his antics. I bet they still actually worship him."
Tolfdir's chucked, "Not that bad of a way to look at it. It is all magic, one way or anohter. I need to rest my friends. Dying and coming back to life takes a lot out of a man, even if they have more juice. Do lets try to get together one last time for a drink before we all depart. The Tutor said you talked, how about in the training hall with everyone."
Jon said, "Excellent idea, you are exactly as wise as your years, and will only get wiser."
He scoffed before walking off, and then Lydia near carrying him back to quarters. He was tired, injured, and hungry enough to be shoving a full brick of pemmican in his mouth as she did. They got up to the Arch-Mage quarters and simply striped and crawled into the bed next to each other. Despite Jon's boasts, they were both too tired from travel and battle. A full three hours before revelry is plenty for Augments.