Chapter 13

We beheld the College of Winterhold before us, across what could charitably be called a stone causeway. The problem I saw was that massive chunks of that causeway were missing, such that for several yards, no railings would prevent someone from falling hundreds of feet to their death, and in one spot the pathway itself was barely wide enough for one person. The building itself resembled a giant fortress, stone walls rising high into the sky for defense. Yet the rock it stood upon narrowed like an hourglass under the building itself, and it seemed impossible that it could be standing.

No wonder the remaining citizens of Winterhold thought the college had something to do with the collapse. From where I was standing, by peering over the railing, I could see how the cliff by the town had simply fallen, crumpled away. Yet somehow this edifice had remained.

I looked at Lydia. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

She shrugged back at me. “You’re the one who wanted to come here, after all.”

Steeling my nerve, I crossed the part with no railings. A brief gust of wind made me nervous. I may have dragon blood, but I don’t have dragon wings, after all. After only a few decades went by, or at least a few moments, I made it across. A huge tower lay before us. Walking under it, we entered a large courtyard. Multiple sconces of what seemed to be mage light ringed the courtyard. Ahead of us, a giant tower stood, with a pillar of what seemed to be pure arcana power shooting into the sky. I looked up, and saw a window on the tower near the top, with the eye of knowledge and the five points of the schools of magic coming from it. Well, if any place in Skyrim could help me get my magic skills back, this was it.

We walked around a statue and I saw two people near the entrance to the tower that were arguing, a woman with a deep and sexy Breton accent and an Altmer man.

“I believe I’ve made myself rather clear,” the woman said.

“Yes, of course. I’m simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision.”

“You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but I’m afraid you’ll find the Thalmor receive no such treatment here.” My kind of lady! “You are a guest of the College, here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage. I hope you appreciate the opportunity.”

“Yes, of course, Mirabelle. The Arch-Mage has my thanks.”

“Very good, Ancano. Then we’re done here.”

The Altmer turned away and went into the doorway behind him. “Bloody jackass, thinks he can tell me what to do in MY College. Oh, sorry, didn’t see you standing there. Another new student, eh?”

“Sort of. I need to learn some spells again. So I gather you don’t care for the Thalmor?”

“I’m the Master Wizard here at the College. It’s not so much that Ancano is a Thalmor as much as it is that he’s an insufferable ass who feels that he’s better than any human, or anyone else, for that matter. They may have taken over the Mages Guild in Cyrodiil, they haven’t taken over our College. And what do you mean, sort of?”

“You’ve no doubt heard of the Greybeards?” She nodded. “Well, I’m sort of a student of theirs, but not exactly. I’m the Dragonborn.”

“Oh, my, that is a claim to make, isn’t it?” She pulled her hood back, letting her auburn hair free to blow in the breeze. Her blue eyes twinkled at me. “So, there’s a fable about those of Dragonborn blood. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Perhaps here in the courtyard isn’t the place to discuss that. We should go somewhere more private, I think.”

“Follow me.” She led us back towards the entrance, then partway around the courtyard to a doorway. “This is the students quarters. They’re all in class right now.” She opened the door and we followed her into the side tower. “We’ll say you’re a student here now, so this is your room. Now, what do you know of that fable?”

I took my helmet off, setting it on the table nearby, shaking my hair out. “As my shield-maiden here can attest, it’s not a fable.” I took my gauntlets off as well. I took Mirabelle’s chin in my hand, and brought her closer to me. “Feel my breath on your skin. Feel the strength in my hand. Feel the warmth of my soul. I am Martina Grizé, and I am the Dragonborn.”

I could see the glistening in her eyes as she shuddered in delight.

“Oh, gods, it IS true,” she whispered under her breath.

I pulled her closer to me and began gently kissing her cheeks, and then her lips. I could feel her breath quicken, her tongue reaching out to dance with mine. Still holding her chin in one hand, my other hand reached up and caressed her breast through her clothing. I could feel her nipples hardening instantly. She reached for me, but encountered my armor.

Chuckling, I stepped back from her. “We may have run into this situation before, sweet Mirabelle. Allow me a moment to remove the rest of this armor. And if you like, my shield-maiden will join us as well.”

“By the Nine, yes!” While Lydia and I divested ourselves of our armor, Mirabelle cast a spell upon the doorway to the room, closing it off. “There, that’s the sign around here that research is being conducted in private, and whoever is conducting the research shouldn’t be disturbed, no matter what is heard.”

“A useful sign, no doubt. Interesting that you swore by the Nine and not the Eight, since you’re Breton.” I glanced around the room, and saw a pitcher and bowl. Pouring some water into the bowl, I used a cloth to scrub some of the more annoying dirt from my skin. But I did it in such a fashion, running the cloth around my breasts, lifting them to wipe underneath, rubbing the cloth along my inner thighs, that I could see Mirabelle becoming more aroused by each movement I made.

“Yes, well, since a shrine of Talos still works if prayed to, so that means he’s still a divine. Speaking of divine, oh, my...”

Lydia had also finished stripping, and came up behind the entranced Mirabelle. She went to her knees behind her, and began kissing Mirabelle’s butt cheeks. Mirabelle started, looking behind her, and I took that opportunity to come closer to her, sinking to my own knees. Mirabelle’s private area was mostly barren, with just a small strip of hair running upwards, the same brown as the hair on her head. Moisture was leaking from her, so I reached up with my fingers and spread her open.

I ran my tongue along her slit, tasting her, and then flicking her button several times. Her hands came around to my head, holding me closely. Lydia reached up and spread her cheeks open and began licking her rear hole while I did her front. It didn’t take long for her to scream in pleasure as she found her release.

Mirabelle sank to the floor, panting. “By the Divines, I’d heard of the Dragonborn and sex magic, I didn’t think I’d ever experience it.” She rolled onto her back.

“Haven’t you learned court manners yet, dearest? One never talks with her mouth full.” With that, I knelt down over her face, rubbing my wetness along her nose. I heard a squeal of delight as she smelled my excitement, then I felt her hands bringing me closer so she could taste me. Lydia moved around and spread Mirabelle’s legs, licking her again and I could see Lydia using a couple of fingers to probe inside of Mirabelle, reaching up to touch her sweet spot.

The three of us played together for at least a couple of hours, and ended up cuddled together and needing some sleep. After our nap, I could see something in Mirabelle’s eyes that she’d never thought to find.

“Martina, my dear, I have my duties here that I must perform.” She giggled a bit. “No, not more of that, I’m afraid. You have passed our entry requirements and are officially a student here.”

She got up and started putting her robes back on. “Talk to Faralda about Destruction spells if you haven’t already. Don’t worry, she’s not an ass like Ancano. Phinis Gestor is our Conjuration instructor. Tolfdir is our primary instructor of new students, as well as a scholar of Alteration arts. Drevis Neloren is a master of the Illusion school – he’s a Dunmer like Arch-Mage Aren. And Colette Marence is sometimes difficult to get along with, but she’s very knowledgeable about Restoration.”

“Be careful in whatever it is you’re searching for, and come back to me. I’ve been a student of the magic of sex for some time, but this ... this is something much more than I expected to find.”

I grinned. “Magic is a gift from the divines. While Julianos is the god of magic, Mara and Dibella are the gods of love and sex. Their powers come from Akatosh. And as Dragonborn, my father is Akatosh, leader of all gods.” I heard Lydia gasp. “So what you’re feeling isn’t just sex, or just magic – it’s something that I’ve found missing too often in these cold lands. Love.”

“Martina, you’ve given me something to think about. I ... I may have been too wrapped up in my studies to consider reality. Thank you.” She sighed. “And the student becomes the teacher. How did you get so wise?”

Lydia and I had cleaned up a bit and started putting our gear back on while Mirabelle was talking. I paused with my breastplate half on. I looked into her eyes. “My dear, it’s quite simple. I was born into it.” I heard Lydia choke back a laugh. “Mayhap later on we’ll talk. For now, I need to go find some instruction, and you have a college to run.” She seemed to accept that, simply nodding, and then left us with a satisfied smile on her face.

“So now what, my Thane? I thought for a bit you were going to tell her more about yourself than you did.”

“There’s too much magic around here for the kind of conversation I need to have with her for now. And it’s one thing to have Dunmer running around – the dark elves are known for their sorcerers, which is what you’d expect at a college of magicians. But having an Altmer running around – especially one who is blatantly an agent of the Thalmor? No, we’ll not discuss my heritage openly around here.”

I spent the next several hours wandering the grounds, meeting other students, and tracking down several of the instructors and purchasing an assortment of spell books from them, as well as gathering quantities of ingredients for potions to mix once I returned to Breezehome. There was an impressive library, too, but I didn’t want to get lost in there. I knew my own weakness with books. I also found an arcane enchanter, and was able to learn the magic enchantments from several of the items Lydia and I had picked up recently.

By now it was evening. Since I was considered a student, albeit the only one who was being followed by someone living instead of a magical construct, I decided that spending the night in the college would be better, simpler – and free. While we ate supper, I read all the spell books I’d purchased earlier, greatly enhancing my arsenal of spells in all the schools. Afterward, we found our way into my assigned bed for the night. I didn’t expect trouble, and we had none. After an early breakfast, we were soon back in Winterhold.

There was no convenient carriage waiting for us. “Well, time to get a bit cold and gain some more exercise. Be ready in case for if ... or when ... we run across some wolves or worse, Lydia. Time to head for Windhelm, then see if someone there knows where this Yngol Barrow is that Birna mentioned. The orc librarian seemed to think it was somewhere near there.”

I was either prophetic, or I had learned something about the wildlife of Skyrim. Where the roadway passed under the Shrine to Azura, we ran across a couple of wolves. They didn’t like our swords very much. Shortly after passing Whistling Mine, we ran across several more wolves that fared no better than their brothers and sisters had earlier. The weather was rather miserable and I was glad we had our cloaks due to the wet snow that intermittently fell. It was late afternoon before we finally saw the walls of Windhelm in the distance.

Of course, just because we could see the city didn’t mean that we were safe. A small pack of wolves came charging towards us up the hill, and I decided that enough was enough. I shouted “FUS RO DAH!” All three wolves were picked up by the force of my Voice, sent flinging through the sky, and ended up bashing themselves to death against rocks as they landed.

“By the Nine, my Thane! Remind me never to make you angry with me.”

“I actually almost see what Arngeir meant about tempering knowledge with time. I wonder how some of the other shouts will work once I gain their use.”

We made it to the city without any further trouble, approaching the docks. A long set of stairs were climbed and we entered the city proper.

“Hold it right there, Imperial.” A guard just inside the gate spoke to me. “This is Stormcloak territory. If you try anything here, you’ll find out what a bad idea that really is. Keep your nose clean, you understand?”

We passed several residences in the city. I saw the Palace of the Kings, and grimly headed that way. Walking past an inn, several people were leaving it and one of them, a woman, approached me.

“Stranger, do you know about Talos?”

I stopped and looked at her.

“I’m Jora, a priestess of Talos at our temple to him here. Talos in life was known as Tiber Septim. He united Tamriel and founded the Empire and was rewarded for his deeds by being joined with the Divines in eternal glory. The only mortal to do so. We worship him that we might follow in his path. We can’t literally join him in the heavens, but we may do our best to know them here on Nirn.”

“I thought the Empire and the White-Gold Concordat treaty with the Thalmor banned all open worship of Talos.”

“We’re the only temple in Skyrim that can openly worship Talos. Those awful Thalmor can’t touch us here, thanks to Ulfric. The Empire’s elven puppet masters never cared too much for the idea of a human becoming a divine. So while the worship of Talos is outlawed. Skyrim doesn’t take to kindly to being told what to do. And to try and forget Talos, well ... they may as well order us to cut off our ears.”

She was walking while talking to me, so she opened the door to the temple for me. “Come in, traveler. Meet my husband, Lortheim, and worship Talos.”

Walking in, the size of the temple didn’t impress me. There were only four rows of seats, with the walls having no decoration but some fire pots and torches. Then I looked to the front, and saw the statue of Talos. Standing with his foot on Lorkhan, sword raised overhead to strike. A beam of light came through a window, illuminating the face and I stopped, speechless.

The eyes of Talos were dancing to me. I could almost hear him speaking to me in my head, calling to his heir. I stumbled to the front of the chapel, never taking my eyes from his face. I tipped my head back, taking my helm off and dropping it on the floor. I could feel my toes catch on one of the pews, but nothing would let me take my eyes from his face. I sank to my knees in front of him.

I could vaguely hear Lydia and Jora speaking, concerned about me. But those were mere words. I was feeling the presence of the divine. A feeling of bliss, and more than that, resolve, came over me. Whatever it took, I would defeat the Thalmor in Skyrim and prove myself to be Dragonborn, to be Ysmir, to be...

I shook my head, coming out of the trance I’d felt myself in. Lydia helped me to my feet. “My Thane, are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head and looked back at the statue. The eyes were cold and lifeless, the gray of stone and no more. I looked at Jora, who was still standing to one side, looking a bit dumbfounded by what she’d seen. “I take it that’s not the usual response you see when someone comes in for worship.”

“Not hardly. I’ve seen people with a crisis pushed towards devotion. The Shatter-Shields since the loss of their daughter, Hillevi Cruel-Sea comes in a lot, and even Ulfric comes here to pray for strength. But none have ever had the reaction you had. It was almost like you were face to face with the living Talos.”

“I think I was. I haven’t formally introduced myself to you, Jora. My name is Martina Grizé.” She looked puzzled, like she ought to recognize my name. “You heard the summons from the Greybeards recently? They were calling me. I’m the Dragonborn.”

“By the Nine, no wonder you reacted as you did. While there are still Shrines of Talos around Skyrim, as far as I know this is the last Chapel of Talos in all Tamriel. It’s said the ash of Wulfharth of Atmora was used in helping to build this chapel. He helped Tiber Septim become Talos. But that would mean ... the reports of dragons in the land, I haven’t seen one yet, are they true?” I nodded. She started reciting a litany.