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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day
4-201-12-11 07-01
Arch-Mage's Quarters, Winterhold, Winterhold, Skyrim
After bath and breakfast, I leave my followers to chat with the students, and find Tolfdir who made a point yesterday of telling me that he will always be at my disposal, should I need any advice. Now I tell him that for the time being, he'd better take care of the day-to-day matters of the College in a position similar to the one Mirabelle had when Savos was Arch-Mage. I have neither the desire nor the qualification for that. He's to turn to me when there's trouble or a need to decide something very fundamental. I make it clear that I shall be keeping myself informed through occasional frank discussions with other College members, but generally I trust Tolfdir to be able to take care of things with his calm confident efficiency like he's been doing so far.
After that I go to give the jarl's daughter the news about the recent dramatic events in the College (her father is still sleeping) and then proceed to the inn for the same purpose. In the taproom, a High Elf woman in a simple dress whom I've never seen before asks me if we can talk.
There's something suspicious about her and frankly I'm not in the mood for some shady intrigues at the moment. But then I think: what harm can a brief conversation do? Let's sit down and hear her out. It may be something weird and creepy, but it's certainly a lesser evil than wandering around wondering what it was she wanted to tell me.
Well, the woman says I'm needed in a place called Summerset. The next moment, I find myself in a small wooden house that is in a terrible state. What's left of the roof could fall down on us any moment. Through the holes in the walls, I can see brightly colored flowers as well as some distant trees. In front of me stands another High Elf woman wearing what looks to me like a ball gown out of the Imperial Palace. I've seen dresses like that only in books. Nobody wears anything so fine in Skyrim. And no woman outside of brothels or Orc villages would wear anything so revealing in the sight of strangers.
Dressed up in vain, as it seems.
The late Savos Aren keeps surprising me.
The late Savos Aren keeps surprising me.
She introduces herself as Sylwia. She apologizes for having brought me here in such a manner. Yes, that "courier" person could have at least asked me first, I say icily. I've been told I'm good at icy. Sylwia replies she can bring me back right now, but then I shan't be able to return to Summerset, ever. The sneaky bitch! She knows exactly which buttons to push. Of course I can't say no after that. My curiosity would drive me insane. So I have to make the effort of forcing the words expressing my agreement out of my mouth. Let's hear what she has to say. I can settle accounts with her later. And I will not forget, you can rest assured of that.
Sylwia tells me a certain King Celamir of Cloudrest has disappeared, and we must investigate the matter and keep it secret from the Aldmeri Dominion. Summerset is part of the Dominion, but apparently the central authorities are too eager to meddle with local affairs, which is why the Summersetians are rather interested in keeping up the appearance as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on in this peaceful province. The last thing they need is the Dominion appointing some kind of a governor in the missing King Celamir's stead.
Cloudrest lies to the southwest from here, but Sylwia suggests we go east-southeast first to visit a village where we might find something useful.
I don't quite understand what she's talking about, but my immediate concern is something more important. I tell Sylwia we'll have to bring my followers over. Firstly, I'm going to need them as combat support. Secondly, I can't leave them worrying about my disappearance.
The problem is, I could teleport them to me, but not from such a vast distance, while Sylwia could teleport them all right, but she can't sense where they are. We somehow manage to do it between the two of us. The girls look rather shaken, so we all sit down to let them have some rest.
Summerset appears to be a very big island. We are currently on an islet off its northeastern coast. It's unusually warm here and we're seeing lush vegetation that makes Falkreath look like Eastmarch. Well, not quite, but the beauty of this place is somewhat overwhelming. Even those farmhouse ruins don't really bother me in the midst of such a delightful scenery.
Most of the trees on the beach are coconut trees. I'm not sure I've ever seen coconuts except on pictures, but here they're all around me. A coconut tree looks funny – like a green bush on top of a brown bush, both raised up on a very high stake. (Yeah, you have eyes of your own. Sorry.) And the beach itself is covered with yellow sand. I've never seen anything like that. I'm not sure horkers would like this place very much, but I most assuredly do.
My followers seem to have recovered from their shock, so we'd better get a move on. I'm going along with Sylwia's game for the time being, but my actual goal is to find a way to return to Skyrim in a way that wouldn't require Sylwia's cooperation. Then I'll settle scores with her and return home. The girls and I have no business roaming about in, of all places, Aldmeri Dominion. For that matter, it doesn't even matter what country it is. I won't cooperate with someone who just grabs me and takes me to another place without my consent. Unless perhaps it's in High Rock. I mean, somewhere close to my native place. But enough of that. I must learn to refrain from irrelevant digressions.
We need to go into the nearby mountains along a path that'll hopefully lead us to the village Sylwia mentioned.
When I ask Sylwia about the thalmors, sounding as casual and innocent as I can, she informs me there are no thalmor patrols on Summerset Isle. Their priorities lie elsewhere.
That doesn't mean we're safe, though. We encounter various kinds of wild beast and undead, some of them fighting each other, some determined to scare the pants off us. (Just as well. Pants are kind of uncomfortable for women, don't you agree?)
Those battles are, how should I put it, excitingly challenging. Maybe I can come to like Summerset after all.
I mean, by any objective standard, the creatures in the next picture are utterly horrible. Yet, they don't look too horrifying in green grass under a tropical sun.
My followers are doing an excellent job keeping their distance and attacking the enemies with ranged weapons.
Sylwia, in turn, is good both at Destruction spells and not getting in my way.
Sylwia, in turn, is good both at Destruction spells and not getting in my way.
Did I just say "tropical"? What kind of a word is that? I'm not even sure what it means, but somehow I have the feeling that this kind of nature and weather could be described as "tropical". Lydia, Jenassa and Borgakh have never heard the word, and I don't want to ask Sylwia.
Digressing again. Sorry! Guess I'm nervous because of the uncertainty as to when, and even if, I'll be able to return home. Skyrim, I mean. It's the closest thing to home I have.
We're now seeing the village. There are four peculiar round-shaped houses of unknown material and one citadel-like stone structure. Between the houses roam a couple of unusually big and very nasty-looking skeletons. Aptly named Abomination, they're much harder to kill than the Skyrim variety of walking skeleton.
The houses have utterly horrible bright light (I'm having the impression that this unusual building material reflects and possibly even magnifies sunlight back and forth; whatever the reason, it's sheer murder on our eyes) and a few human corpses lying in the midst of common furniture and household items. I can't see anything in any way connected to King Celamir, but Sylwia is strangely pleased, as well as horrified by those skeleton things.
She says this trip has been a great success, but leaves me in the dark as to in which respect. She just suggests we now proceed to Cloudrest. I'm sure Sylwia was pursuing some kind of a private affair of hers here and only wanted us to come along for protection.
Whatever. We'll be going to the south now to bypass the mountains in the west. After that, we'll head west and find a way up another mountain range to reach Cloudrest.
On our way south, we pass by a garden with apple trees, and then discover a big apparently uninhabited stone house called Lovira Falls Manor. We kill a few quite strong skeletons along the way and see some very big mushrooms:
Then we discover a shrine of Auriel, evidently a local deity I've never heard of before (but Jenassa has). The statue of Auriel is much higher than those mushrooms in the last picture. It stands at the foot of a hill we need to climb up to get to Cloudrest. The ascent doesn't look all that bad at first, but turns out exhausting to the extreme. When we're finally on more or less level ground again, I call a rest. We enter the nearest building. It happens to be the Cloudrest Temple.
We sit panting and exchange a few words with the priest Acario. After a while, Sylwia suggests we'll be no less comfortable in a nearby bar. I understand. With the echo in this huge building, sensitive topics are best discussed elsewhere, even though not necessarily in a taproom. We had plenty of opportunity to talk in the forest. But I trust Sylwia to know what is appropriate in the local circumstances. Besides, I'm not the one who has anything to fear anyway. After a quick prayer to Dibella, we move on.
We see many houses spread all over the steep hillsides, as well as people walking here and there. The bar Sylwia is taking us to looks cozy indeed, and it's open-air:
Sylwia informs me she's a member of a secret group that protects Summerset against any foes – including the central authorities of the Aldmeri Dominion, should they ever turn hostile. That's why they're secret. Their loyalty is to the people of Summerset province and no one else.
I ask her how many provinces there are. Sylwia replies we don't have time for a geography lesson. I shall be able to find wisemen who have books and such, if I'm really interested. But Summerset, the original home of the High Elves, is generally aside of big politics these days, as well as fortunate enough to lack significant economic or social problems.
Before we leave for the king's palace to search it for clues, I ask Sylwia about her dress. I say it's very pretty, but isn't it a bit impractical in combat? Sylwia says she's a mage, so it doesn't really matter what she wears. I remain skeptical. I know mages defend themselves with wards rather than armor, but still... As we walk towards the palace, I look at Sylwia and wonder – when her dress begins just barely above her nipples, how can she run and jump without her breasts slipping out? And what's the point in taking such a risk in the first place?
Approaching the palace, I see a door going to "Underground Market". That sounds like merchants! We may not have time for a geography lesson, but I can always spare a minute or twenty for shopping. Ignoring Sylwia, I quickly walk to the door and enter. A staircase leads to a large hall with tables and chairs, evidently a dining area. Around it are market stalls with traders. I can't get my eyes off this one:
It occurs to me that I can't see if he's wearing any clothes down below either.
Better perish the thought.
Better perish the thought.
Everyone seems really nice here. Most importantly, they have some ingots on sale which are very rare in Skyrim, as well as have a lot of money for buying my excess wares. I'm beginning to think Summerset is not such a bad place.
I can see Sylwia is irritated by this delay, and I'm cherishing every second of it. Finally I have mercy on her and exit. We proceed to the palace entrance:
That white sphere is not a lamp. It's a teleportation orb. Many buildings in Summerset have them instead of doors.
It doesn't require any magical skills. You just walk up to it and activate it, and then you are teleported inside –
in this case, to the palace courtyard. Of course, there's another such orb inside so you can get out again.
It doesn't require any magical skills. You just walk up to it and activate it, and then you are teleported inside –
in this case, to the palace courtyard. Of course, there's another such orb inside so you can get out again.
The palace has a courtyard high above the ground inside forbidding walls. It's a good 360-degree defensive position with plenty of space to move around the palace proper. There's a dog sitting on a patch of grass. I want to go and pat it, but Sylwia insists I waste no more time.
The palace, while clearly bigger than jarls' houses in Skyrim, is not very luxurious. Something between the Thalmor Embassy and my Solitud house.
The king's throne is just a big chair. The servants didn't even bother to clean away that dog's fur on it.
"Dog's fur?" Sylwia asks. She is suddenly very alarmed. We'd better check out the dog outside, she says. Well, that's what I was about to do when you dragged me in, stupid.
While we hurry to the exit, Sylwia reminds me of that weird foreign magic she sensed in that destroyed village. It's the kind of magic that takes decades of diligent practice to learn, but it could bring about something even the best Aldmeri Dominion mages couldn't do – turn people into animals. Maybe King Celamir, ostensibly lost without a trace, was turned into a dog?
We go out. The dog growls at Sylwia. She says she senses it doesn't like mages, so I should go and approach it without her. The dog seems fine with that and sits down. It looks right into my eyes. I believe to see very undoglike understanding in its face.
The dog barks softly and actually nods its head. I hazard the next question: "Are you King Celamir?" The dog nods again and stands up, barking and wagging his tail. I try to explain to him that Sylwia is our friend, but he remains wary of her.
Sylwia says she'd better part ways with us for the time being. I'm to take the dog to Shimmerene Mages' Guild and talk to the Dean. She gives me a map of the island and warns me that I might find the Dean of not too friendly disposition. On the other hand, his assistant Bolwing is supposed to be a very nice man.
The distance to that mages' guild looks roughly equal to what we have already covered today, so I don't think we have any reason to worry even though the sun ought to go down soon.
Orange arrow: our path traveled today.
Pink marker: our current location.
Green marker: our next destination.
Pink marker: our current location.
Green marker: our next destination.
Indeed we would have arrived in an hour if our progress hadn't been stopped by a group of mage-bandits. They looked kind of eerie and cast very painful fire spells, but fell quickly when hit by our arrows. Guess they had neglected honing their ward spells. Too late to tell them now, of course.
We reach an impressive palace by the time the clouds in the sky have been turned red by the last rays of the sun.
Inside, we are greeted by a woman named Quillinda who, in her own words, is a receptionist, but seems in fact to be a lot more.
I take an immediate liking in her. The same goes for a male Khajiit student with almost black skin (fur, I mean) who is resting on a bench a little farther. Together we destroy a Bloody Skeleton who slipped in through the front door after us. Then I ask Quillinda to point me the way to the Dean's office. She says I need to go to the other end of a large hall and ascend some stairs. And the Dean is called Arch-Mage nowadays.
True to Sylwia's warning, Arch-Mage Neltharion is not a people person. But I'm not complaining, because he teaches me two spells for getting from Shimmerene to Winterhold and back. So my biggest problem here has been solved. It's possible that Neltharion isn't moved by mere kindness. Maybe he wishes I'd leave as soon as possible. Well, that suits me fine.
As to the dog-king Celamir (I suppose we can now be sure it's indeed him), Neltharion tells me I can leave him here and maybe Bolwing can figure out what to do with him. The dog, by the way, shows no enmity towards these mages, so there must be something not quite right with Sylwia, like I have suspected all along.
Incredibly, this is Neltharion's desk. Maybe he has magically enhanced eyesight,
but I would much rather use my magic to create better light.
but I would much rather use my magic to create better light.
I find Master Bolwing and fill him in. He says he can try to turn Celamir back into his original shape, but he'll need a certain rare ingredient. He shows me in which region to look for it.
Sure, I'll do it – should I ever be really very bored. I return to the great hall which is completely empty at this hour. I ask Quillinda if I can make myself useful in any way. She says there's a rare book they're looking for and shows me a place southwest of Cloudrest where it's expected to be. Just to prolong our conversation, I ask if I could become a member of the Mages' Guild. She says: why, of course, and she'll immediately register me as an apprentice. That's not quite what I had in mind, but it would be extremely rude to back off now.
The formalities taken care of, I have a very urgent matter to attend to – exit the castle, stand holding hands with my followers, and cast the spell taught me by the Arch-Mage.
One moment we're under the night sky of Summerset with moonlight shadows of tree leaves moving on the pavement around us (see above), the next moment we're standing in piercing cold with snowflakes biting our faces like tiny fires, and can just barely recognize that the place where we are is the Winterhold College bridge.
We hurry to get indoors, yet can't avoid getting engaged in a conversation with the teachers Phinis and Arniel and the student Nirya in the courtyard. The harsh weather doesn't seem to bother them the slightest and for that matter I soon cease to pay attention to it too. Warm and beautiful as Summerset may have been, I find this discussion of various local topics really nice and interesting.
That must have been the group that lost their lives in Labyrinthian.
Of course I won't mention it to Phinis. There's nothing he or anyone else can do for them now.
Of course I won't mention it to Phinis. There's nothing he or anyone else can do for them now.
The study hall looks kind of empty and joyless without that bluish-green or greenish-blue sphere with curious calligraphy that was the Eye of Magnus. After exchanging a few polite words with Master Sergius, we hurry upstairs to get into our warm beds.
No sleep for me yet, though. Having undressed and stretched out on my bed, I learn that my followers are highly confused, to not say appalled, by my reluctance to pursue the quest of King Celamir. That goes above all for Jenassa. "A human being has been turned into a dog, for heaven's sake," she points out to me. "It's so horrible. Is there a reason why we aren't going to do everything in our power to help him?"
I don't really know how to explain what my problem is, but with Lydia sitting on me I can't brush the topic under the carpet either. So I try to justify myself by saying: "I won't help someone who captures me like Sylwia did and then confronts me with a choice that forces my hand."
That fails to impress Jenassa: "If you really hate Sylwia then we can kill her when this is all over."
I say: "But we must do it without damaging that awesome red dress. I'd like to try it on."
This fails to bring about more than a grin from Lydia. Jenassa and Borgakh remain looking at me with serious faces. A second later, Lydia gets serious too and says: "Sylwia's despicable behavior is not a reason not to help Celamir. What Sylwia did is not Celamir's fault. He can't have led her to it, because Sylwia didn't even know the dog was Celamir."
I know. I just have this intuition that in some sense this quest will turn out very disappointing. But I have nothing I could put my finger on. And Lydia, seeing her logic fail to impress me, is now attacking me with a look that makes me feel like my whole being is dissolving in those green eyes.
I undertake a desperate attempt of regaining my composure – as well as prestige.
"Point one: even you must agree that the Skyrim civil war is more important than one High Elf turned into a dog," I say.
This one hit. Lydia's expression turns back into matter-of-factly and I can take a deep breath of relief. Well, as deep as possible under the circumstances.
"Point two. I promise we will go back to Summerset. But we'll go when I say so. I would be very disappointed if we fell out over this."
"Oh no, we won't!" Lydia hurries to assure me. "I only mean it's such a lovely place. We don't even have to do anything if you don't want to. We can just walk around and talk to people and shop. After all, they're so nice in Summerset, aren't they?"
I notice Jenassa has turned kind of embarrassed hearing those words. Lydia half-opens her mouth as if wanting to take back what she said. She looks apologetically at Jenassa. Of course! Now I get it. Jenassa fancies High Elves. That's why she's so keen on returning to Summerset!
Looks like I'm back in control. I smile and grab Lydia's left breast firmly, thanks to which she's unable to resist when I roll her off me. I sit onto her and pin her forearms to the bed. She doesn't resist.
"But I'm still the boss," I inform her.
I see exaggerated fear on Lydia's face as she begs: "Please, Mylady, not on my bare butt!"
I roll my eyes and shake my head with a deep sigh. Then I turn to Jenassa: "Can we go to sleep now, please?"
She nods with a look of slight amusement and motions Borgakh to follow her.
They're right, you know. The people of Summerset are indeed nice. In addition to that, I must admit that shooting all those creatures that wander around in Summerset's forests is good exercise. Those skeletons are actually pretty cool in their horrid way. I hope Jenassa won't decide to stay there permanently, though. Although if it makes her happy, I won't prevent her.
"Have you ever had your butt spanked?" I ask Lydia when we lie in embrace under the blanket. Funny this topic has never come up between us yet.
"Only slapped with a hand a few times. Nothing serious. You?"
"Not on bare, ever." I look absent-mindendly at the ceiling. "I mean, not as far as I remember. I have no memory of anything like that." Lydia knows already about Lorm having slapped my butt when I was wearing clothes.
I close my eyes and relax while Lydia's hand caresses my belly and panties which I'm still keeping on tonight just in case. That reminds me. "You know, Lydia, it's actually a good thing we wasted a day in Summerset."
Lydia nods smilingly and kisses my cheek. She knows we were going to Windhelm, and tomorrow I'll already be able to be with Yrsarald.
"You told me his room is so dim," says Lydia. "Maybe he wouldn't have noticed anything?"
I don't bother to reply. I know she knows I'd never go to a man while I'm bleeding down there.
"Or you could have asked him to use the other hole," says Lydia.
I open my eyes and grab Lydia's hair. "If you don't shut up right now, I'll spank your ass for real!"
Lydia smiles at me with her eyes and we laugh and hug each other tightly. Then we decide it's time to go to sleep.
My thoughts are on Summerset. The unbelievable warm yellow sand. The droll giant-broomstick-trees. The constant warmth all around me. The understanding dog. The topless male trader.
Maybe some Summerset traders sell dresses like Sylwia's? I can't think of a place in Skyrim where I could wear it, but I can at least put it on in the privacy of my home and take some pictures.
With this pleasant fantasy, I sink into sleep.
next awakening
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