Chapter III

The wind outside rattled against the windows of the Hall of Elements. Inside, Savos Aren, the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold stood alone gazing at an archway in the center of the room atop a wide stone dias. The glorious machine had been crafted from a brilliant gold colored metal and was covered in ancient sigils that had been painstakingly carved into its pillars. The top of the archway was formed from six interlocking plates, each with a glowing stone set into it. Off to the side of the archway and connected to it by a series of strange tubes made from a transparent crystalline material was a vacant pedestal. Carved into the floor around the archway was a six-pointed star with mystical fire hovering in the air above each point, each flame was a different color; red, blue, yellow, green, pink and purple. The Dunmer sat down at a desk and began to thumb through a small book.

The doors to the hall opened and the sound of the storm filled the room as a robed Breton woman stepped inside.

“Is that you Mirabelle?” Savos asked not looking up from the book.

“Yes, Savos. It is I.” She replied closing the door behind her. “I had a feeling I’d find you in here.”

“I had a feeling you’d come looking for me.” Savos chuckled. “Any word on our students?”

“No,” Mirabelle said stepping into the warmth of the chamber. “Not yet.”

There was a silence in the room. The only sound came from the storm outside and the flipping of pages as Arch-Mage Savos Aren read his book.

“Bastian has some interesting theories regarding the interpretations of the Dwemer’s works.” He said. “He thinks that alternate realities and different dimensions are within the realm of possibility.”

“Most would call him a madman,” Mirabelle said with a frown.

“Yes well, most of the greatest Magi in history have been… eccentric.”

“Eccentric isn’t the word,” Mirabelle said. “We are putting all of our faith into a device that is powered by myth! They have been gone for a month and we have had no word from them! The refugees are becoming restless. Food is low as well as medical supplies. They could be dead out there for all we know and-“

“I am aware of our dire straits Mirabelle but we have limited choices before us,” Savos said patiently. “Bastian is one of our most gifted students and we’ve come so far now. We can’t just give up.”

Mirabelle sighed.

“It’s just the waiting that’s the hardest part.” She said bitterly.

“I know.” Savos sighed. “Gods I know but whatever will be will be. Worrying about it won’t accomplish anything but make you feel worse. Just be prepared and stay vigilant. Where is your niece?”

“Lielle is at the top of the tower watching the road with that telescope of hers,” Mirabelle said.

“She’ll catch her death up there,” Savos said smiling.

“She’s more worried about them than I am. If something were to happen to either of those boys it would destroy her.”

“Bastian and Bartleby are both perfectly capable of handling themselves. I’ve seen the latter of the two take on a dragon single-handedly with an arrow sticking out of his knee. And then, of course, Bastian has the Staff of Magnus.”

Mirabelle chuckled at the casual tone the Arch-Mage used when referring to the staff that had once, according to legend, belonged to Magnus, the god of magic himself.

“I am sure they are okay,” Savos said. “Why don’t we go down and see if there’s any of that Surilie Brothers left in the wine cellar? See if we can take that chill out of our bones.”

Mirabelle sighed and nodded. Left with little else to do, getting drunk seemed like as good an idea as any. Savos closed the book and the two started to leave the Hall of Elements. They had almost reached the exit when the door that led to the top of the tower burst open and a snow covered figure stumbled into the room. Lielle was covered from head to toe in furs and a golden telescope of Dwemer design hung from her belt.

“T-t-t-t-their coming up the path!” She stammered out. “I saw the signal light!”

“Who is it?” Mirabelle asked.

“B-blue s-so B-B-Bastian!” She stammered.

The flesh of her face was red from the cold outside. She started to pull open the door that led to the courtyard of the college but Mirabelle stopped her.

“Stay here and warm yourself, you silly girl!” She said. “You’re lucky you haven’t lost anything to the frost you spend so much time out there!”

“B-but-“

“Enough!” Mirabelle snapped. “If you were any other student I could care less about what you do but you are my niece and I promised your mother, Arkay rest her soul, that I would watch over you. Now go to the Hall of Attainment, warm up, drink some broth and then I will send that stupid boy your way do you understand?”

“B-b-b-b-“

Lielle interrupted herself by sneezing violently, the force nearly knocking her into the stone wall behind her.

“Now!” Mirabelle said pointing towards the door.

Defeated, the young apprentice nodded and left the Hall of Elements, sneezing several more times as the door closed behind her. Savos chuckled.

“And to think I distinctly remember you saying you had neither the desire nor patience to rear children.” He said.

“Oh be silent,” Mirabelle growled.

They left the hall and walked out of the courtyard, passing by the great statue of Shalidor as they walked. They crossed the narrow stone bridge that connected the College of Winterhold to what was left of the city of Winterhold.

“I notice that I am getting out more now that the dragons have returned,” Savos observed. “I am even on speaking terms with many of the villagers now. Nothing like the end of the world to bring a community together.”

Even calling Winterhold a village would have been generous. It had once been a large city and one of the oldest in all of Skyrim after Windhelm. Until The Great Collapse caused much of the city to crumble into the sea, leaving little besides the College of Winterhold intact. All that remained of the city of Winterhold was a section of the great wall that protected the inhabitants from the monsters that made the region their home, a few dozen buildings that had been renovated to house the refugees and the Jarl's longhouse which was currently serving as the Blade's headquarters. The few Nords that survived and actually stayed blamed the wizards of the college for the disaster and gave them a wide berth which suited the Magi just fine in the end. Now, towards the end of the line, the Nords had established a refugee camp to keep the survivors of Nirn’s Armageddon safe from the dragon's wrath.

The two Magi entered the village just in time to see a group of people dismount their steads, celestial beings from Aetherius in the shape of horses conjured and bound to the mortal realm by a wizard’s will. With a wave of their hands, the shimmering creatures vanished and faded from this world, returning from the immortal realm of magic from whence they came. A crowd had gathered around them and was clamoring to see what was held in a young man’s hands. All they knew was that whatever it was, it was their only hope of survival against Alduin and his army of dragons.

“Let the boy breath!” Savos said as they neared the crowd.

He and Mirabelle pushed their way to the front of the crowd and stopped in front of the young man.

“Well?” Mirabelle asked. “Did you find it?”

“Bastian?” Savos asked quietly.

Bastian looked quite pale even for a Breton. His green eyes were tired from the journey and his robes were stained with dried mud from the road. He placed a hand on his knapsack and opened the flap. A warm light glowed from within his bag and the steady beating of a heart answered his teachers.

“Oh, my….” Savos said. “You never cease to amaze me Bastian Bellrend.”

Bastian closed the bag.

“Where is my brother?” He asked.

“Bartleby left about a week after you to see if he could convince any of the other holds to come to the camp,” Mirabelle said.

“No word from him then?” Bastian sighed.

“No.”

He nodded and stepped past the two Magi.

“I have work to do.” He said.

-The Pony Scrolls-

Inside the Hall of Elements Bastian stood looking up at the archway. Behind him, Arch-Mage Savos, Mirabelle, and the wizards that had accompanied Bastian on the quest had gathered to watch him work. The archway was a device he had spent nearly three years building. It was based on the designs of a mad Dwemer engineer, a combination of science and magic and a prelude to the construction of the great brass golem Numidium. It took nearly two years to translate and make sense of his notes and then another year to gather everything needed to build it, conducting dangerous raids on Dwemer ruins that cost many Blades and wizards their lives. And after all of that, the archway still demanded a powerful device to serve as its power source.

“The heart of a god,” Bastian said opening his bag.

He put on the Wraithguard, a magical gauntlet forged from Dwemer metal, reached inside his bag and withdrew just that; the heart of Lorkhan. Pulled from the chest of the god himself as punishment when he tricked the Aedra into creating the mortal plane of Mundus and giving up their divinity and thrown down to Nirn never to be seen again. Eventually, it was recovered and experimented on by the Dwemer and ultimately responsible for their disappearance thousands of years ago during the First Era. The heart beat in Bastian’s hand and glowed with a dim golden light.

“So?” Savos asked behind him. “Now what?”

Bastian approached the archway and stood in front of the pedestal. He held the heart close to the slot and the three ventricles moved as if seeking to connect to the device. He connected it and the heart began to glow brighter as if new life had been breathed into it. The heart’s beating increased and the stones in the archway began to glow brightly. The symbols carved into the metal of the pillar glowed and began to project magic runes above them.

“By the eight!” Mirabelle gasped. “It- It’s working!”

“Well, now what do we do?” A Dunmer named Haala asked.

“It needs fuel and then it needs to calibrate,” Bastian explained.

“I thought the heart was its fuel source,” Mirabelle said approaching the arch-way.

“No. The heart is the engine but magicka is its oil.” Bastian explained. “These flames floating above the corners? They are not Dwemer sorcery, they are Ayleid. They are receiving points for magicka. You cast spells into them and then the energy is used to charge the archway.

“What spells are needed?” Savos asked.

“It does not matter," Bastian said. "Ice, fire, lightning, just as long as the spells themselves are powerful."

“Will it drain the caster?” Mirabelle asked.

“Most definitely,” Bastian said. “I would think that you would have to be a powerful magic user just to attempt to charge them.”

“Well it’s a shame there seems to be a shortage of those as of late.” A sly voice said.

The group turned and saw an Altmer standing in the doorway to the Hall of Elements. Like all Altmer the elf was taller than most races of men. He was wearing green robes spun from silk and trimmed in gold thread. His copper colored hair was brushed back in a tamed mane and he carried himself with an air of arrogance that seemed to be a trait inherent to his kind.

“I can’t believe you did it, Bastian.” He said. “I was certain that when I saw you ride off into the sunset that it would be the last time I would ever lay eyes on you.”

“Sorry to disappoint you Heciri,” Bastian said with a scowl.

“Now, now that’s enough of that,” Savos said sternly. “Bastian you must be exhausted from your journey. Go and get some food in you. Later once we have everyone gathered we will see what we can do about this archway.”

“Master Aren-“

“I’m not going to argue over this Bastian,” Aren said. “You are probably the only man on the planet who has any idea how to work this device. Go eat. Rest your bones. Speak to Esmeralda if you need healing. You are no good to us if you fall over dead understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Bastian muttered.

“And go assure my niece that you arrived in one piece,” Mirabelle said. “She’s been watching the road every day since you left waiting for you to return.”

Bastian nodded and left the Hall of Elements scowling at Heciri’s smirk as he left. Once outside he sighed in the cold night air and rubbed his temples as he made his way to the Hall of Attainment.