Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 172: Chapter XXXV: Firelord!



(General POV)

The news of Reyvin's deed had spread quickly among the nobility and a small feast was swiftly prepared within the throne room of the Blue Palace.

The Dunmer Thane spent an entire hour retelling how he hunted down each and every member of the brotherhood, properly curated of course, while also making sure to keep insulting the intelligence of whomever decided it was a good idea to send the 'pathetic amateurs' his way.

Sybille Stentor had a great time watching the colors of Elenwen's face shift with each insult, whenever the 'poor' Ambassador would calm down the Court Mage would waste no time in delivering a snide comment her way, all the while pretending to be clueless about the situation.

A bard had already written the whole thing down, and the High King, who was as ecstatic as could be, instructed said honest and not at all bribed artist to make the song he wrote on the event as full of mockery as possible.

Some time later the King stood up, quickly drawing attention to himself as he cleared his throat thus stopping the music and merriment. "Sorry for interrupting such a happy time but I fear I must steal some of my Thane's thunder as it were." He sent an amused glance to Reyvin who merely raised his cup in a supportive response.

"Noble ladies and gentlemen" Torygg began his announcement "Dear Ambassador" He greeted her with only a hint of smugness "I am pleased to announce that my wife, the Queen is with child!"

There was a beat of silence before the entire throne room burst into cheers of praise.

"Falk" Torygg called his Steward "Please write to Harald and inform him of this most joyous development." the hint of smugness might as well have been a mountain as he gave that order.

The ever-stoic Steward immediately got to work, himself sporting a satisfied grin.

The celebration went on long into the night.

And Elenwen was not permitted to leave until it was all over.

(Elenwen's POV)

The screams of the amalgam of flesh that was once the foolish apprentice that failed to inform me of the threat of Flame-tongue did very little to assuage my fury. The damned creature had humiliated me again and I had to accept it all with a smile!

The desecrated creature finally burst from getting overloaded with lightning Magicka, covering the entire room and myself in blood and gore.

"Are you well, my lady?" Drenil asks cautiously from behind me.

I shiver as I barely hold back a lightning bolt in response. "No" I grit out.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

I feel him put up a ward as he takes a deep breath and asks "Would it not be wise to inform the Master about this?"

The lightning bolt shattering his ward and slamming him into the wall is all the answer he gets from suggesting I humiliate myself further.

I swear if it is the last thing I do I will have that Dunmer's head!

(Minor timeskip, Reyvin's POV)

Some two months after I organized a surprise party for my favorite Ambassador I found myself sitting cross-legged atop the tower of destruction, dozens of soul gems and rubies surrounding me in a complex ritual circle, the outline of which was filled up with fire salts. Initially I expected I would have to search for a specific location to perform this rite of advancement but realistically the only place that would potentially be better for performing it was Red Mountain and I am not spending half a year on that when I have more pressing matters to attend to.

I was left completely alone while the entire tower had been evacuated, just in case things turned... volatile. Naturally, the chances of me making a mistake and blowing myself up were minimal but caution was the name of the game when you were playing with forces of destruction so after wishing me good luck one final time even Faralda herself had left the tower.

Well then, I may as well get to it! What better way to celebrate one's birthday than potential incineration, right?

I take a deep breath and send out a pulse of Magicka, Scorch appearing immediately and taking his place in the ritual. My massive reserves start seeping into the enchanted floor as the air around me starts heating up.

If I was a human or any other kind of Mer for that matter I would have probably screaming in pain right about now, but the fires felt closer to a gentle wind instead of the ravenous crimson flame I saw them as.

As the energy picked up speed Scorch dissolved into the rapidly mounting firestorm, painting the previously red flames with flecks of gold, thus adding another layer of complexity and power to the ritual.

The final drop of Magicka left my body and everything stilled... only for every single bit of magic in my surroundings to surge toward me. Not even a moment later I felt like I was about to explode, I saw that my skin was on fire in places and immediately focused on controlling the rampaging energies.

Slowly and steadily the ritual calmed down and I took deep breaths, unconsciously expelling some fire from my nose as I did so. I tried to stand but felt like I would immediately fall over so instead of trying that I summoned a regeneration potion and a feast's worth of food. Finally I stood up, and as I did so Scorch appeared on my shoulder "You doing fine pops?"

I nod "Yes, self-immolation aside, I feel great!" I exclaim with false cheer. The glorious bird boy bobs his head "Indeed, my personal swimming pool feels far more comfortable now."

"Think you can use it to grow even stronger?" I ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He taps his wing below his beak before shrugging "Should work."

I point my left hand toward the open air "Might as well test what we just got" I say and decide

to try a basic firebolt... only for a literal laser beam of gold and crimson to explode out of my hand for exactly the same effort.

"Oh yeah" I smirk "It's all coming together."

[Trait gained:]

[Fire attunement (True Destruction, Solar): You have reached the pinnacle of mortal power with the element of fire, all fire spells are twice as strong while being half as demanding.]

[Mag: 800 => 850]

[Destruction Expert=> Master]

[Destruction mastery trait:]

[Elemental malleability: Any destruction related runes are easier to create, and the elements of your spells combine with greater ease]

When I descended the tower I was immediately dragged toward my inn where a bunch of my friends, servants, students and colleagues hosted a massive party for my mastery and birthday. The fact that they did so in my own establishment without batting an eye was,

admittedly rather amusing.

Everyone wanted to take the time to congratulate me so I mingled with the guests and chatted with the other Masters for a while before a silent pop was heard next to me just when I

decided to sit down and take a breather.

"So kid" Savos says as a greeting "I hear you did something ridiculous again?"

I give him a dubious look "Are you sure you should be the one to call me ridiculous?"

He 'flinches' and grasps at his heart "I am shocked and appalled by such insinuations." Before

he straightens up and asks "So young and already approaching the big three, eh?"

Not a familiar term... "Big three?"

His eyes widen as he suppresses a chuckle "You mean to tell me you do not know?"

My lips thin "Get on with it Aren."

He huffs "Fine, fine!" Before raising a finger "For you see Reyvin, when one is a master of three schools of magic one may already be considered an Archmage!"

"Oh... that." I say, unimpressed. Archmage was something I have touched upon already, my power combined with my artifacts would allow me to stand against anyone holding the title even though I might still have less experience than any of them.

"Oh come on, at least give me a better reaction than that!" The centuries old man pouts.

I stare at him, my eyes drier than the tower was after the ritual, before both of us burst into a

fit of chuckles "How may I be of assistance, Archmage?" I finally ask.

"Must you be so stiff?" He huffs playfully.

"Of course, it annoys you after all." I answer without any hesitation. Aren once again pouts like a child before crossing his fingers conspiratorially "I need you to

pay me a visit in my quarters in three days, I think it was high time we talked about some

things." "Oh?" I go to ask but he has already disappeared... though this time I saw the outline of Magicka as he activated the spell and twisted the space around himself.

Just you wait you old fart, soon I will finally have my revenge!

(General POV)

On that same day all of the new college students were gathered in the Alteration tower.

They have gotten mostly used to their new life at the college and have entered a comfortable routine with their studies and constant magical exercise. To say some of them were surprised by the amount of effort and focus it took to build ones self into a proper mage would have

been an understatement.

There were of course accidents and incidents, mostly with Brelyna playing around with some very unadvisable summoning or J'zargo using some very poorly crafted scrolls, the cat man wouldn't wait for a second after learning a new rune and kept experimenting like a complete

loon.

Both events nearly ended up murdering a certain Dragonborn but that was neither here nor there...

Fishy, as most have taken to calling him much to his constant frustration, had calmed down considerably since his arrival. He was still aggressive and sadistic but considering how many times he had his bones broken by either of his combat teachers he learned to mellow out. He did form something of a friendship with Minthara due to their constant practice dueling

however.

Speaking of the 'big boned' Argonian he was currently tapping his foot impatiently as they waited for their alteration teacher to finally make his appearance "Where is the old man?" Sleeps-with-fishes asked irritably.

His Nord friend shook her head before saying "I do not think you should disrespect Master Tolfdir, the man punched a dragon in the neck and made it flinch."

A pair of golden yellow eyes focused down on her as Fishy gave her an incredulous look,

seeing as she doesn't correct herself his incredulity turns into terrified awe as he gulps "Noted." Before they can continue with their conversation the kindly old Nordic war machine walks

into the classroom and greets them with a smile. He looks over everyone and after confirming that they were all present begins speaking "Apologies for not holding this class earlier, there have been some unfortunate developments in Deepholm and I had to go below ground for a

while." "Nothing too bad I hope?" Minthara asks without thinking, she was very invested in that specific 'settlement' so her tongue outpaced her mind. Instead of getting annoyed at the interruption Tolfdir shakes his head "Nothing unsolvable,

young Minthara." and turns to the rest of them "Now, last time we went over some of the more basic applications of alteration so today I will be teaching you something completely different, but still vital for any mage's arsenal." Excitement sparks in some of the students' eyes as the old man declares "Today we will be learning about wards."

"Give J'zargo back his excitement" The resident Khajiit mutters. Marco raises a hand and after getting a nod from the Master asks "What if we already know

about wards and how to use them?"

Tolfdir merely smiles "Then you will help your fellow students." He already knew that the duo that descended into Blackreach was strong and skilled but some extra practice wouldn't hurt. The Dragonborn dying to a stray spell would be a terrible way for the world to end after

all.

There was some whining from most of the students, most of them felt that wards were unimportant of just plain unworthy of an entire class being spent on them or having to waste time practicing something they were already skilled at. Something that greatly disappointed

the old Nord mage.

But among the newbies, one had learned the lesson of a strong defense well, so Fishy made

not a single peep as he volunteered to help Tolfdir with the demonstration. The old man happily instructed him on how to best use the spell and how to control it properly and then started blasting at him with firebolts.

Soon the entire room was filled with a cacophony of spells, the sounds of broken glass, and huffs of pain, all the while Tolfdir Ebon-frost watched with a patient smile.

An hour or so later the 'serene' instance of scholarly learning was interrupted by the

classroom doors abruptly opening and an excited Reyvin walking in. Before Tolfdir could question what all the fuss was about the Dunmer exclaimed "Saarthal has been opened!"

Now that I think about it there is a surprising amount of digging in this story...

...Speaking of digging, get to work!

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