Chapter 51: Application (Patreon)

Chapter 51: Application

I pushed open the rough wooden door of the Nightblood Inn. Raven, all but invisible in her large winter cloak, glanced up from her table on the wall. Across the low fire pit, the only other patron didn't even look away from his mead. That was, according to the innkeep, only to be expected.

Nightgate inn was rustic, to say the least. But it was on the way to Winterhold and it made a good stopping point while I checked back in to the mountain.

“How was it?” She asked as I slid on the bench next to her.

I gave a small smile, “All quiet on the Western Front,” I said. “No new missions are coming down, and it looks like some time to cool off has done us all some good.”

Raven burrowed deeper in her cloak. “I'd prefer less 'cool,' thank you,” she muttered. “It hasn't been stopped snowing since we got here.”

“I thought you liked it,” I said.

She gave me a withering look, most of it hidden by her fur lined hood. “For five minutes,” she snipped before turning back to her book. “Then I came to my senses.”

“Are we going to wait here for long?” I asked.

Raven flipped a page, “Ask me again when the storm outside doesn't sound like a howling demon out to eat the young,” she said. To be fair, it was kind of hard to hear her over the wind rattling the timber walls.

I slipped into the bench beside her with a small sigh, glancing towards the door. With some decent magic, the snow and wind wouldn't be much of a problem. It would be difficult to fly though. I grimaced, if a gust hit me the wrong way I might also partially dis-corporate, and have to pull my body back together.

After half a second, I noticed that my leg was bouncing beneath the table. I let out a breath, forced myself to calm down. That lasted for all of half a second. With a frown, I changed the flow of mana through my limbs, forcing them to be still.

Then Raven leaned into me heavily, almost knocking me off the bench.

I let out a huff. “Raven—”

“Be quiet,” she said, worming her way under my cloak as I sat back upright. “It's cold.”

I stopped, blinking as Raven pushed herself halfway into my lap, still reading her book as if nothing was odd about the situation. Worse, she shifted her weight every few seconds, forcing me to move my body 'normally' as opposed to manipulating its internal energy with my new power.

I grumbled, glancing away. “I know what you're doing,” I said.

Raven gave a low lap, leaning back into me suddenly. I grabbed onto the table, shooting a glare at her. She flipped a page as my lips started to twitch. It wasn't a smile.

“We're going to be here for a while,” Raven said, snuggling deeper. “Get comfortable, or don't, it's no fabric from my cowl.”

I grumbled again, but Raven didn't respond. Still, she right about it being cold, even with the fire... I shifted slightly, drawing my cloak over so that it fell more naturally across her shoulders. I let out a breath, trying to release the tension, before breathing in.

The air smelled like sharp, like shadows before dawn.

My head snapped up, cheeks growing warm. Raven shifted slightly...on my lap, but I was already turning towards the innkeeper. My hand fumbled for a handful of Septims. “Can I get some mead?” I called. Raven elbowed me. I glanced at her our of the corner of my eye. She gave me a droll look. “Make that two,” I added.

“Ay, coming right up,” the man said. He reached beneath the counter, easily capping two amber bottles with his massive hands. If I had one word to describe every Nord I'd met thus far, it would have to be large. Across the room the sole other patron muttered something unfaltering, I let it wash over me as the innkeeper put our drinks on the table.

“Been a while since I've had Cyrodil girls asking for a real drink!” he said as I handed over the coins. He gave a quiet laugh. “Course, it's been a while since an imperial's been this far north, what with the War and all.”

Raven gave a small smirk at our fake backstory, but she sipped her drink all the same. “It's...sweet,” she said. I blinked once as she licked her lips, before turning away and taking a swig of my own bottle.

The innkeeper laughed lightly. “That's true Nord mead for you,” he said. “You won't find much dry Imperial wine this far North, though, I wouldn't mind a chance to replenish my stock.”

“The war?” I asked. Raven shifted, her attention flitting back to her book. Between my telepathy and her empathy sense, we'd set up something that let her understand the locals rather well, but that didn't make her interested in them.

“Bad business, that,” he said, shaking his head. “Ah, I'm Hadring.”

“Taylor,” I said. “My parents had a terrible sense of humor.”

Hadring smiled. “Well, at least no one will accuse you of beinga soldier.”

“The War's gotten bad?” I asked. “We... saw a few patrols on the road, but no one gave us any trouble.” Raven snickered into her drink, and I jabbed her in the side. Hadring ignored the byplay.

So what if we flew the whole way. You'd think in a world with dragons people would learn to look up.

“Yes, well,” Hadring said. “Neither side wanted to commit while there were dragons flying about. Too easy to lose an army to one of the bastards.”

I nodded, “To say nothing of a city.”

“Normally, wouldn't be a problem, but from what I hear the Stormcloaks take a good deal of their men from the guard regiments, and the rest from volunteers,” the man shrugged. “Then, well, the dragonborn came, or so they say.”

I blinked, the word tickled at something in my mind. Unfortunately, I was not longer able to just fire a neuron to kick off the related memory. “So they're back to fighting again?” I said.

Hadring shrugged. “Hard to say. Maybe the dragons have knocked some sense into everyone's head.”

“But you doubt it.”

“But I doubt it,” Hadring said. “If there's one thing I know, it's that we men of Skyrim aren't so quick to sheath a blade drawn in anger. I reckon I'll be seeing men in blue armor marching down from Dawnstar any day now.”

“What about Winterhold,” I asked. “That's where we're bound.”

Hadring gave us an appraising eye. “Hard to say,” he said. “Course, from what little custom I get, I know that Winterhold is a realm unto itself most days.”

The man across the bar spat. “Won't matter a whit,” he said. “Damn mages wouldn't get up off their asses when the dragons were pillaging Skyrim? They won't move for any Jarl's war.”

“Won't the Imperials want to take it at least?”

“Take what?” the man said, “and get me another ale!”

Hadring sighed, “coming right up Fultheim.”

“Nothing worth nothing there since the city fell into the sea,” Fultheim continued. “Feh, it's Whiterun that matters. Right in the center of it all, like the divines dammed tower.”

I opened my mouth to ask him another question, but then Hadring was back with the man's ale, and he hunched over it like the bottle was worth all the gold in Skyrim. I shivered slightly as I saw him curl in on himself, the picture of a broken man.

Then I turned back to my ale, finishing it in one swig. “Sound's like the storm has passed,” I said. “Think we should get going?”

Raven closed her book with a snap. “No?”

I rolled her eyes, standing. She grumbled as she almost fell of the bench. “Come on, we've spent enough time here, don't you think?”

“Yes, clearly we've spent too much time next to the nice warm fire,” Raven said. “I'd much rather be out in the snow.”

“You didn't have to come,” I said, waving to Hadring as we moved to the door. “You can portal back to the mountain if you hate it so much, I'll come pick you up after I've made it to the college.”

Raven tugged on her hood. “Let's just get this over with.”

She shoved open the door, wood scraping against the buildup of snow on the worn porch. The light off the fresh powder blinded me for a second. I rubbed my eyes, looking around as I started gathering my mana.

Then I saw the woman standing on top of the covered dock. “Back inside,” I hissed. Raven looked over at me in surprise. The woman was looking out towards the frozen lake, one hand shading her eyes. But even from behind, I couldn't mistake that Red and Black armor. I grabbed on Raven's arm, pulling her back, but then she turned.

Her face split into a smile, eyes glittering. “You!” she said.

“Fuck,” I said.

I stepped forward, letting the door slam shut and putting Raven behind me all in a single movement. “Here to take another shot?” I asked, rapier materializing in my hand.

If anything, her gaze only grew more manic at that spell. “Oh, pulling out the good tricks now?” she said, smile spreading until it revealed her fangs. Then she waved a hand. “I'm not here to kill you, anyway. Say, is there an Orc in that inn?”

I blinked, “An orc?”

She clicked her tongue. “Damn, where is that bastard. This is what I get for never bothering to learn clairvoyance.” For a second I thought she might leave, but then she turned her laser focus back on me again. “But you...”

I let myself slip into a familiar stance.

“I canceled the contract on you.”

And then I almost fell into the snow. If she'd been after my life, that would have been the perfect chance, but she remained where she she had jumped down to the dock.

“...What?”

“It would be such a waste!” She said. “I still haven't figured out the spells from last time, and that's with her help. But now...” she grinned again, glancing back between me and Raven. “Say... you're going to the college, aren't you?”

“Taylor, who the hell is this woman and how does she know where we're going?” Raven asked. I contained a wince.

“Taylor,” the woman said, as if tasting my name. “Well, I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other in Winterhold. I'll be your senior, after all. You can call me Iliria.”

“Actually, we're heading in the other direction.”

Her smile became sharp, bladed. “Nonsense, in fact, let me give you a ride.”

“That's really—”

“OD AH VIING”

The words stabbed into my brain, better this time. But it was the dragon plunging down from the sky that nearly took me off of my feet.

“I have one of my own now,” Iliria said, running a hand through her blonde hair. The Burgundy dragon practically dwarfed my own Adrammelech, nevermind the fact that my summon most certainly could not fly. Maybe it was stupid?

“You called, thuri?” it rumbled. I felt my heart sink lower in my chest.

“We're going to Winterhold,” she said, hopping up on the dragon's back without a second thought. “And you better have been working on your endurance like I ordered, because this time I have passengers.”

The dragon turned a single massive eye towards us. “As you command, Dovahkiin,” it said.

Then the woman, the Dovahkiin of all people, turned to look at me once again. “Coming then?” she asked.

Behind me, Raven sighed. “You really need to start telling me about these people you meet,” she said.

“I—”

“Forget it,” she said. “Who doesn't want to get kidnapped to go on a dragon ride. I'm sure this can't possible go wrong.”

Well, we could always leave, I almost said, or fight. But then, that wouldn't solve much of anything at all, would it?

With a sigh, I followed behind, climbing up on the back of the damn dragon. With a single beat of its wings, we were in the air, leaving behind a torrent of snow and ice. As we lifted off, I thought I spotted a green skinned man walking out of the nearby woods. I did not mention it.

“It won't be long,” Iliria said, shouting over the wind as the dragon bore us into the clouds. “Odhaviing is almost as fast as Shadowmere after all!”

“I will devour that wretched beast, if you compare us again,” Odhaviing said.

“Charming,” I said. “Would it be terribly impolite if I stabbed you in the back and pitched you over?”

She just laughed. “You sound exactly like her!”

“Who?”

“The Archmage, of course.” I could practically hear the grin in the woman's voice. “She'll be delighted to meet you.” I said nothing in reply.

The mountain flew by, quite literally, beneath us, and within minutes, I caught sight of the famed College of Winterhold. My eyes widened at the sight.

It was a citadel, massive curtain walls encircling a small expanse perched atop a spire of stone. The rest had crumbled away to the sea below, only a single battered stone bridge connecting the college to the small town that must have been the rest of Winterhold.

“Impossible,” Raven said. I sensed more than heard her words. “What in the world is holding it?”

“They haven't told me yet,” Iliria shouted. “More's the pity, I might have to tear it down to find out... won't that be so much fun!”

“You really find the nicest people, don't you?” Raven muttered.

“Next time someone tries to murder me, I'll take them off the Christmas card list, I promise...” I said, head hanging low.

“Hey, Odah, do the thing!” Iliria shouted. I tensed.

Odahviing laughed.

Swooping low, he passed less than a hand's breath above the outer wall. Then, he flipped over, and the three of us were falling.

The damn woman's giggles filled the air as I caught myself, slowing my speed to something more reasonable. Raven and I landed in the courtyard a second after Iliria did. She stood, eyeing me up, “And you have levitation too?” she murmured, trying to push up against me. I spun away, but it didn't dissuade her a bit. “Oh, this will be such a wonderful friendship.”

Before I could respond, I heard the click of heels against stone. The sound was so strange, so anachronistic, that I turned at once. Striding across the courtyard was the Archmage, for it could be no one else. I could feel the power roiling off of her in waves. My spark grew brighter in my chest in response, and I stiffened.

She was like me. I could see it, I could feel it..

Her purple and ermine gown flaired out behind her as she crossed the courtyard, golden headdress framing a face, too pale and perfect to be anything less than magic. Her eyes nearly glowed amethyst, and I knew, even without a mirror, that mine had gone red gold to match.

She was a planeswalker, and she knew I was one too.

“You bring home the most delightful little mice, Iliria,” she said, her lips twitching up into what would be called a smirk on anyone less elegant. “I am Liliana Vess, but you shall come to call me mistress I am sure.”

Her smile could have driven a saint to suicide.

“Most all of my students do.”

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A/N: And here we have it, the big reveal. I've been building up to this for so long it took me three weeks to figure out how to set it all up.

I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. If I was more organized, I would have called a brief Hiatus at the end of the last arc to get my thoughts all in a row for this next one. But I'm not, and so we go. I hope you all enjoyed.