Chapter 9
Estormo and I really should have reconsidered this plan of meeting outdoors.
Getting out of the College was surprisingly easy. The patrol guards seemed to have no qualms about my leaving, granted I was wearing layers of robes bundled together. There is a chance they had no idea who I was, as I likely looked like any other student here. Leaving to conduct field experiments or Gods know whatever else it is that takes place outside the College grounds. The blasted bridge was treacherously slippery going downhill, but I managed to make it all the way down after what felt like an eternity. Exiting from the stone archway that marked the College's front entrace from the city of Winterhold, I followed the cobblestone path as it veered sharply down and to the left out of the College's entrance. It sloped severely as it led the way to the shore far below, and the downward hike was more of a challenge than I anticipated. I had ample time in the College. I remembered my initial journey here after arriving in Winterhold. I was prepared for the cold, the relentlessly biting wind, the numbness that would surely creep into my limbs and extremeties in no short order. But I was not prepared for the rare appearance of the sun, or how it would look when it peeked through the overcast cloud cover and reflect onto the snow. After days of no direct sunlight, the brightness felt painful. I might as well have looked at the blasted thing myself. Squeezing my eyes shut and shielding my face were the only forms of protection I had for my vision. I groan lowly to myself. Even the gaping hole of Magnus' departure, a welcome sight and feel back in Summerset, was an enemy here.
Breathing a little harder with exertion, I force myself to slow down a little in my march. There was no particular hurry in meeting Estormo - he would have spent the past two days scoping out Winterhold's surroundings, gathering intel on what was nearby, making shelter somewhere and finding a suitable meeting spot for us. Much of the surrounding area was rocky, with glaciers and icebergs floating all around. There was little flat land to have a bird's eye view, but Estormo had been clear in his message to me - stick to the rocks and cliffsides. His training as a scout would have given him survival skills fit for any terrain, including frozen wastelands. I was not worried he wouldn't find a place; it was remote enough to not arouse suspicion if we were to be seen, it would take both of us a while before we reached it anyway. That we might both be dressed as mages could easily be explained away with the College's presence nearby. I risk an glance directly upwards. The College loomed over me, an impervious tower of dark grey against a literal sea of white. It looked much more imposing from this angle, and this distance. It was a shame nothing inside was as magnificent as its exterior. Well... that isn't exactly true. It has been a Numidian effort for me not to dwell on what took place yesterday. My venture into the Midden was harrowing enough. But what happened after... still feels like a dream. A dream so vivid that the image it left me with did not leave my mind, even after last night. In stark, exquisite detail. As if that wasn't bad enough, my own body had a reaction to it. I felt my blood run hot enough to melt the snow under my feet. It has been a long time since I had this sort of reaction. Not since...
The path starts to bottom out, cobblestone giving way to greyish brown sand. The cliff face to my left growing taller and taller the further I descend. Down here the wind would not be so strong, and there would be enough shade from the sun to make this trek bearable. So bearable, in fact, it is allowing my mind to wander as I pass a sheer cliff face, pieces of lumber and driftwood on the ground next to it. I force myself away from the previous thoughts. Yesterday was... eventful was putting it too mildly. There was much I learned, and not a shred of it was suitable for sharing with Estormo. He would think me mad sooner than most. As much as I trust him, I must keep him at arm's length. At least, for now. It was not enough that the College had an extensive cavernous network underneath it, serving as its foundation and a site for potentially illicit activities. It also held a terrible secret. A terrible sentient secret, as I soon discovered for myself. I initially thought it to be a hoax, a ruse. Something one of the members of the College cooked up to scare me out of the Midden, possibly out of the College. The machinations of an imbecile with nothing better to do with their time here. What I experienced instead rattled me beyond belief, an encounter that will not be leaving me any time soon. Not for the rest of my life...
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THE PREVIOUS NIGHT
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"What... are you?"
The enormous light ebbs and flows before me, neither waning nor fading in its intensity. "I am but a pathway to that which you have been seeking." The voice speaks slowly, as if its owner is fighting sleep. My eyes narrow, ever so slightly. I'm not trusting whatever this thing is, nor however responsive it is to my line of questioning. I'm still not entirely convinced that this isn't something that's being manipulated manually by someone or something within the Midden. I manage another look around of the room, now fully illuminated by this thing. Nothing stands out, no trap doors, hidden switches or secret entrances. Perhaps I can use this to my advantage. If it's willing to speak to me, surely I can get something useful out of it. But first, whatever this thing is has some explaining to do. It has some nerve presuming to know anything about me.
"And what exactly do you believe I'm seeking here?"
"You have come to the College for the same reason many others have come voluntarily. You seek knowledge. Knowledge that will lead to failure and your demise, whether you are aware of it or not." I frown. This thing seems to know much more than it's letting on. "You still have not identified yourself," I point out. 'A pathway' isn't an acceptable identity. I want a name. If this ends up being a ruse, not a small number of people may end up getting hurt from this foolishness. I deeply did not appreciate being made a fool of, nor did I like having my intelligence insulted. This warrants less than a stern word and more of an example being made of whoever thought this was a clever idea. "My identity is of no consequence to you now, Ancano."
I freeze in place. "How do you know my name?" Alarm bells are sounding loudly in my head, warning me that this is a trap. That I'm in danger and I need to leave now. But the overwhelming part of my mind tells me I need to stay and hear this thing out, that what it's going to tell me will be important to me and I would deeply regret not listening. So despite my instincts urging me to bolt out of this room as fast as I can, away from this supernaturally bright and sentient light that's seemingly all-knowing, I stay firmly planted where I stand. And try as I might, I don't feel particularly threatened by this light. It hasn't shown itself capable of anything other than speech and impressive light displays.
"I have been intrinsically linked with the energies that flow through the College for millennia. A coupling that has allowed me to see what is obscured to a great many with the clarity of a varla stone. It is how I know that the path you follow will bring about an early grave, for none but yourself." The fear I initially felt when this light first appeared to me has given way to bemusement. I'm having a hard time believing anything I'm hearing, no matter how convincing the ruse may be. But this is the most entertainment I've had since arriving at the College, and I deserve a little humor after the ordeal I went through getting here in the first place. I cross my arms, shifting my weight from one foot to another. "Is that the meaning of what you said earlier, then? About my duplicity being my downfall and time abundant allowing me to choose a different path?" I sound bored. Honestly, repeating it out loud made me realize how foolish it all sounds in hindsight. I surpress a chuckle. My rationality is returning, and finding it ridiculous that I was ever scared of this giant orb of light.
The light ebbs a bit faster, a movement that disrupts the natural flow of its energies and mildly distracts me for a brief moment. "My warnings stem from actions you have yet to take, a motion that has yet to be set, and events that have yet to begin. You are leading yourself to complete and total destruction. Pushed into a cycle of war and conquest, with no end in sight. It is a plight your people started in Summerset, and have imported to most others in Tamriel." My jaw flexes. For being presumably immobile and bound to the College, this light is too aware of the world outside of the it. "You chose this path willingly, believing it would bring you glory, honor, recognition. It has brought you here, believing it will aid you in your quest to find what you truly sought out all along." Wait. "'What I truly sought out all along?' What could you possibly know of my intentions here?" Tendrils of unease seep into my stomach, the weight of a certain amulet suddenly feeling like a fresh ember. I have said absolutely nothing about my real purpose here. I've made sure to cover my tracks thoroughly. I've only just begun exploring the College grounds. Are they keeping tabs on me already? Surely I haven't done anything to arouse suspicion. I then remember the caretaker from days prior, Oveld, how he bolted out of Attainment at the mere sight of me, and internally I growl in frustration. He must have gone through my room while I was gone, using a master key I know he would possess. Using whatever he's found, he's spying on me, perhaps even now. Perhaps he's now an informant for the Archmage, or the insufferable halfling Mirabelle. I make a mental note to track him down when I've concluded my business here with this... thing.
"Your only hope of survival, of success in your endeavors, is to ally yourself with the Redguard mage. Ira of Astora."
This time, I cannot help the bellowing guffaw that leaves my mouth. It sounds ugly to my ears, not used to obnoxiously loud laughter. It echoes unpleasantly back at me within the acoustics of this small room Now I know this is a joke. It cannot be a coincidence that the Redguard mage, whom I just encountered and let leave, would somehow be tied to this light and this place in general. Relying on a human woman for survival and sucess, a being with barely a fraction of my lifespan. The concept was beyond laughable. It is clear to me now that I'm being watched, by a complete imbecile no less. And whoever it is thinks themselves a jester and is trying to get under my skin. Unfortunately for them, we of the First Children were born with an innate sense of ourselves. Something the Dominion sharpened within us to a point, early on in our initiation and training. Such poor attempts at humor do not work on me. Perhaps they may be effective on some of the more hot-headed foot soldiers. But instead, they have the opposite effect of duly irritating me. "I must commend you for your creativity. I can see it took great effort putting this ruse together, whoever you are." I have half a mind to blast this thing with fireballs now, but think better of it. For now. There is still valuable information I can glean from this. "Since you seem to know so much, what can you tell me of the Redguard mage in particular?"
I suppose it's entirely possible that the Redguard in question is behind all of this, but I doubt it. Despite her commendable skill, I'm not one to assign credit or talent where it is not due. And besides. She would not have had any way of knowing I would be down here, much less stumble upon this room. She was quite eager to leave given the ordeal she'd been through earlier at the hands of a laughable excuse of a colleague. I couldn't say I blamed her for wanting to leave in that moment. Perhaps she went straight to that treacherous cat and skinned him alive for his foolishness. The thought makes me smirk, despite myself. "She arrived at the College years prior, born to unknown parents in the province of Cyrodiil. A prodigy of magic, the likes of which have not been seen within these walls since the time of Vanus Galerion. Like you, she came willingly, in pursuit of knowledge. Yet, her path differs from yours." Hmm. It appears I was right, although the comparison to Galerion is quite a stretch. A human magic prodigy, in the form of a Redguard woman, presumably born and raised in Cyrodiil. That just raises the question of who her parents were. In the time the Dominion spent in Hammerfell, there were no reports of magickal lineages anywhere in the province. Mostly paper mages, with even fewer of real magickal ability scattered throughout their army. Any family of Redguard descent rich in magickal history would have been pertinent information to have, and it would have been known sooner rather than later. Could they have fled Hammerfell before the war? To where? Where in Cyrodiil did she grow up? And why come to Skyrim, of all places? "You are heading towards a doomed fate, a path you tread of your own volition. The Redguard is different. She is being pushed, guided towards something, by forces that have yet to make themselves known. It is a good path, one that can save her and the College. A path that will save yours, should you heed my words. Forge an alliance with her, before it is too late."
I'm not sure what to make of any of this, although I am starting to get sick of this thing speaking in riddles and beating around the bush. It doesn't help that the light's slow cadence is boring me out of my mind, and I'm having to stifle more than one yawn. 'Save her and the college'? 'A doomed fate'? 'Forge an alliance before it's too late'? By Lorkhan, this has gone on long enough. "I believe I've heard enough from... whoever you are. I don't appreciate being given the run around, nor do I appreciate having to solve riddles just to make sense of whatever nonsense your spewing. I expected much more from something supposedly 'intrinsically linked with the energies that flow through the College for millennia.'" I raise one hand, palm facing up, fingers encircling a fireball. "I'll give you one chance to reveal yourself, otherwise I will do it myself." It isn't a bluff, necessarily. I'm not threatened by this thing, nor am I feeling the trepidation I felt when it first revealed itself. There are many ways of revealing tricks of the eyes and mind. Illusion magic wasn't as frivolous as some of my colleagues liked to think it was, it had many practical uses. The best of them required no magicka whatsoever.
"You resort to violence to achieve your goals. It will only get you closer to Oblivion's doorstep." There is a moment where I think I'll get what I want, an answer to this being before me, but nothing more happens. I begin to focus on a spot directly in the center of the light, raising my hand closer to my as I clenched my fingers. Fireballs had a wide area of damage. I'm prepared to hop backwards half a step to avoid being caught in the blast, when the voice speaks again
AUTHOR'S NOTE