If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Tolfdir's eyes twinkled again as he looked at Aerion. "And that applies to all of us, my boy. Including me. If you ever wish to delve deeply into the secrets of Alteration, you know where to find me. Just be prepared to help an old man find his misplaced alembic in return."
Aerion let out a warm, genuine chuckle at Tolfdir's pragmatic, slightly morbid joke regarding the explosive dangers of magical research. The old man's easygoing nature was a stark, refreshing contrast to the rigid, paranoid hostility he had faced from the Winterhold guards down in the ruined city.
"I will be sure to keep that in mind, Master Tolfdir," Aerion replied, offering a respectful bow of his head. "If I ever find myself in desperate need of an alembic, or a masterclass in bending the physical laws of the universe, you will be the absolute first person I seek out."
Tolfdir beamed, his bushy white beard twitching with a wide smile. "Excellent, excellent. Now, I suggest you take some time to rest. Familiarize yourself with the College grounds, speak with your fellow apprentices, and perhaps visit the Arcanaeum. I must take my leave, I have a rather stubborn piece of petrified dragon bone waiting for me on my desk that requires further analysis."
Aerion thanked the elderly master once more and watched from the doorway as Tolfdir turned and slowly made his way back down the winding, stone spiral staircase of the Hall of Attainment.
Once the old man was entirely out of sight, Aerion stepped back into his modest, circular stone room and pulled the heavy wooden door shut until the iron latch clicked securely into place.
The room was quiet, insulated from the howling blizzard outside by feet of solid, enchanted stone. The ambient warmth from the central fire pit out in the hall seeped through the floorboards, keeping the bitter cold at bay.
Lupin had already made himself entirely at home. The cinnamon fox had burrowed his way beneath the thick, luxurious fur blanket resting atop the stone bed, leaving only his snout and two perked ears visible.
Aerion walked over and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. He reached out, gently stroking the soft fur between Lupin's ears. The familiar immediately leaned into the touch, letting out a series of soft, contented yips, perfectly happy to be out of the freezing wind and off the treacherous mountain roads.
As his hand moved in a soothing, rhythmic motion, Aerion's highly analytical mind began to process his immediate strategic objectives. He had successfully infiltrated the College, completely bypassing the tedious bureaucratic hurdles with a single, overwhelming display of magical force. He had secured lodging, and he was officially an Apprentice.
But what was his next move?
'The Arcanaeum,' Aerion thought to himself, his golden eyes narrowing in calculation. 'I need to visit the library immediately.'
With his Fast Skill Levelling and Fast Magic Mastery system perks, he didn't actually need to sit through months of tedious, mind numbing lectures to learn how to manipulate the arcane weaves. He simply needed to physically touch the spell books.
The system would do the heavy lifting, instantly downloading the geometric formulas and magical matrices directly into his brain. If he spent an hour systematically touching the vast repository of knowledge housed within Urag gro-Shub's library, he could exponentially expand his combat repertoire.
Furthermore, he needed to start observing the student body. He was currently building a highly lethal, well funded private army back at Pelagia Farm. Sinmir, Torsten, Titus, and Uthgerd were incredible frontline shock troopers, and Jenassa was a flawless assassin. But an army of heavy infantry without ranged, magical support was tactically vulnerable.
The Aldmeri Dominion had devastatingly proven the absolute supremacy of battlemages during the Great War. The Thalmor had broken the Imperial legions not just with superior strategy, but with coordinated, highly disciplined artillery fire in the form of mass Destruction magic.
Aerion needed artillery. He needed to find ambitious, highly capable mages among the apprentices who were perhaps dissatisfied with the academic stagnation of the College, and recruit them into his mercenary company with the promise of vast wealth and practical field experience.
Realizing that resting was a waste of his incredibly valuable time, Aerion stopped stroking the fox.
Lupin instantly popped his head out from beneath the fur blanket, letting out a sharp, highly indignant yip of protest at the sudden cessation of affection.
Aerion chuckled, standing up and adjusting the sleeves of his fine dark robes. "Duty calls, little glutton. Do you wish to remain here in the warmth, or do you want to accompany me to the library?"
Lupin didn't hesitate. The fox scrambled out of the blankets, shook his fur out, and trotted eagerly to the heavy wooden door, looking back at Aerion expectantly.
"Very well. Stay close to my heels," Aerion commanded gently.
He opened the door and stepped out onto the second floor landing. Just as he turned toward the spiral staircase to make his descent, the heavy wooden doors leading into the Hall of Attainment from the outside courtyard suddenly banged open.
A rush of freezing air swept up the stairwell, closely followed by the sound of heavy boots and overlapping, argumentative voices.
Aerion descended the stairs just as a group of three apprentices stepped into the circular ground floor, shaking the snow from their cloaks.
Because the spiral staircase deposited him right near the entrance, Aerion's downward momentum carried him directly into their path. He bumped somewhat awkwardly into the shoulder of the lead apprentice, a tall Nord woman with blonde hair braided tightly against her scalp.
"My apologies," Aerion said instantly, stepping back and offering a polite, conciliatory bow. "I was distracted by my thoughts and did not watch my step."
The three apprentices froze, their mundane bickering dying instantly.
The group consisted of the tall Nord woman, a sharp featured Dunmer man with ash gray skin and cautious red eyes, and a lithe Khajiit woman whose spotted fur was currently standing on end from the sudden chill.
They looked at the towering, impeccably dressed High Elf standing before them. Given the intensely paranoid political climate of the College, and the fact that an incredibly arrogant Thalmor agent named Ancano had recently taken up residence in the Arch-Mage's quarters, their expressions immediately hardened into masks of deep, defensive suspicion.
Aerion read the geopolitical tension in their eyes instantly. He knew exactly what they were thinking.
Before any of them could voice an accusation, Aerion offered a warm, completely disarming smile, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
"And before you ask, or draw any unfortunate conclusions based on the shape of my ears," Aerion said smoothly, his melodic voice completely neutralizing the hostility in the air, "I would like to state for the record that I am absolutely not a Thalmor agent. I do not associate with Ancano, nor do I have any interest whatsoever in the political machinations of the Aldmeri Dominion."
The blunt, incredibly direct preemption caught the three apprentices completely off guard. The heavy, suffocating tension of suspicion evaporated, replaced by genuine surprise and a sudden, shared sense of relief.
The Nord woman, recovering her composure first, let out a slow breath and actually offered a small, apologetic smile.
"Well... that is certainly a relief to hear," the Nord woman admitted, accepting his earlier apology with a nod. "And I apologize for glaring at you like you were a sabre cat ready to pounce. It's just... the atmosphere around here has been incredibly tense lately. Ancano makes everyone feel like they are constantly being watched."
She extended a hand, deciding to offer the olive branch. "I am Yrsa. This grumpy dark elf is Ravyn, and the one currently trying to thaw her tail by the fire pit is J'zari."
"This one does not appreciate the cold," the Khajiit woman, J'zari, muttered from near the flames, though she offered a polite tilt of her feline head. "But this one is pleased to meet a High Elf with a sense of humor."
Ravyn, the Dunmer, simply crossed his arms and offered a silent, evaluating nod, though his red eyes lacked the previous hostility.
Aerion took Yrsa's hand, offering a firm, polite shake. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Aerion. And the creature currently inspecting your boots is my familiar, Lupin."
At the mention of his name, the three apprentices looked down. Lupin was actively sniffing Ravyn's leather boots, his bushy tail swaying back and forth.
The sudden appearance of a perfectly tame, incredibly well behaved wild fox inside the dormitories completely shattered whatever remaining ice existed between them. Yrsa let out a delighted laugh, crouching down to offer her hand, which Lupin immediately nuzzled for scratches.
"By the Divines, he is beautiful," Yrsa cooed, entirely distracted by the familiar. She looked up at Aerion. "Are you a new arrival? I haven't seen you in the Hall of Elements during the morning lectures."
"Technically speaking, yes, I am new here," Aerion replied smoothly.
'Though practically speaking,' Aerion mused inwardly, 'I cannot possibly count how many times I have walked these halls, completed these quests, and been crowned the Arch-Mage of this entire institution in my past life.'
"Well, if you're new, the layout of the College can be a bit confusing," Yrsa offered enthusiastically, standing back up. "If you like, I could give you a tour around the grounds? Show you where the alchemy labs are, how to avoid the freezing drafts in the courtyard..."
Before she could finish her sentence, both Ravyn and J'zari simultaneously stepped forward and elbowed Yrsa sharply in the ribs from either side.
"Ow!" Yrsa yelped, rubbing her sides and shooting her two friends a look of profound, bewildered betrayal. "What in Oblivion was that for?!"
Ravyn rolled his eyes, while J'zari simply sighed. They were clearly a tight knit trio, and Yrsa was apparently the overly friendly, slightly oblivious member of the group who constantly volunteered them for extra work.
Aerion let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. He found their dynamic highly amusing, and perfectly suited for the kind of camaraderie required in a mercenary company.
"I deeply appreciate the generous offer, Yrsa, but there is no need for your friends to assault you on my behalf," Aerion smiled warmly. "I do not wish to inconvenience any of you, and I am quite capable of finding my own way around. However, I do sincerely hope that we can all get along well in the future. I have a feeling we will be seeing quite a bit of each other."
"We'll be around," Ravyn grunted, offering a slightly more relaxed smirk.
Aerion offered a final, polite bow of his head before stepping past them, Lupin trotting obediently at his heels. He pushed through the heavy wooden doors, leaving the Hall of Attainment behind. As the doors closed, he could clearly hear Yrsa loudly demanding to know why her friends were such miserable introverts.
Aerion committed their names, Yrsa, Ravyn, and J'zari, firmly to his mental Rolodex. They were young, they were clearly talented enough to survive the College entrance exams, and they had a solid, bonded dynamic. They were perfect candidates for future recruitment.
He crossed the magically warmed courtyard, the howling wind of the blizzard completely deflected by the towering stone walls of the College. He walked directly toward the central keep, pushing through the massive double doors and stepping back into the grand antechamber.
Instead of walking straight into the Hall of Elements, Aerion turned sharply to his left. He approached the heavy, reinforced wooden door that bore the ancient, sweeping crest of the College library. He pushed it open, immediately ascending a short, curved flight of stone stairs that led to the second floor.
He stepped into the Arcanaeum.
Like the courtyard, this space was vastly different from the vanilla game. The mod he had installed had transformed the library from a cramped, circular room into a breathtaking, multi tiered cathedral of knowledge.
Massive, towering bookshelves carved from dark oak stretched all the way to the vaulted ceiling, accessible via sliding wooden ladders and floating magical platforms.
The ambient light was provided by thousands of floating candles, casting a warm, flickering, scholarly glow over the endless rows of ancient leather bound tomes.
Most impressively, the library was highly organized. Massive, glowing magical sigils floated gently above different sections of the room, clearly demarcating the aisles.
There were designated, massive sections for Destruction, Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Conjuration, Enchanting, and Alchemy.
Several apprentices and a few senior mages were scattered throughout the vast room, sitting at heavy oak tables, hunched over glowing spellbooks, entirely absorbed in their academic pursuits.
Aerion stepped fully into the room, his eyes sweeping over the absolute treasure trove of magical potential.
"Hey! You there! High Elf!"
The voice was rough, incredibly deep, and grated like a rusted iron blade grinding against stone.
Aerion stopped. He turned toward the massive, elevated central desk that dominated the center of the library.
Standing behind the desk, glaring at him with a look of absolute, murderous hostility, was an elderly Orc. He wore the ornate, dark blue robes of a Master Mage, his white hair pulled back into a tight topknot, and a thick, braided white beard falling over his chest.
It was Urag gro-Shub, the absolute, undisputed tyrant of the Arcanaeum.
Urag slammed a massive, green fist onto the polished wood of his desk, pointing a thick, accusatory finger directly at Aerion's feet.
"No pets allowed inside the Arcanaeum!" Urag barked, his prominent lower tusks jutting out aggressively. "I don't care if you are an apprentice, a master, or the damn Arch-Mage himself! Animals shed, they chew, and they ruin parchment! Get that beast out of my library before I turn it into a pelt!"
The few apprentices studying at the nearby tables immediately shrank down in their chairs, desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with the enraged Orc. Urag was notoriously volatile when it came to his books.
Aerion did not bristle at the disrespect. He knew exactly how fiercely protective Urag was of this repository, and he respected the Orc's absolute dedication to preserving knowledge.
Aerion approached the central desk, offering a deeply polite, respectful bow, completely devoid of any Altmer superiority.
"My deepest, most sincere apologies, Master Urag," Aerion said smoothly, his tone heavily laced with respect and Persuasion. "I am a newly arrived apprentice to the College, and I was entirely ignorant of the specific rules regarding familiars within this sacred hall. Please forgive my transgression."
He gestured down to the fox, who was currently sitting perfectly still, staring up at the massive Orc with wide, intelligent eyes. "However, I assure you, Lupin is not a wild beast. He is a highly obedient familiar. He will not shed on the rugs, he will not make a sound, and he absolutely will not vandalize or chew upon any of the priceless tomes housed within your care."
Urag's heavy, scarred brow furrowed. He let out a loud, wet snort of sheer disbelief, leaning his massive bulk over the desk.
"I don't trust your pretty words, Elf," Urag growled, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. "And I don't care if you're new. Ignorance is no excuse in my library. I will not go easy on you."
Urag pounded a heavy fist on the desk again for emphasis. "Every single book, scroll, and scrap of parchment in this room has been kept absolutely pristine and safe since I became the guardian of this library hundreds of years ago. If you dare to mess with, damage, spill ink upon, or even think about stealing a single page from one of these books... you will not answer to the Arch-Mage. You will answer to me. And I will tear you apart."
Aerion met the Orc's furious glare with a look of calm, unshakeable sincerity. He nodded his head slowly.
"I understand your terms perfectly, Master Urag. I swear upon my magic that your collection will remain entirely unharmed in my presence. I shall keep your warning firmly in my mind."
Urag stared at the High Elf for a long, intense moment, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, the Orc let out a final, warning grunt and slowly sat back down in his massive wooden chair.
"See that you do," Urag muttered, dismissing the High Elf and immediately burying his face back into a massive, ancient ledger.
Aerion let out a silent breath, shaking his head in mild amusement. The Orc was incredibly strict, borderline tyrannical, but his uncompromising nature was exactly why the Arcanaeum had survived the centuries intact.
With the librarian pacified, Aerion turned his attention to the true objective.
He walked slowly, purposefully, toward the massive, towering section illuminated by the glowing, fiery red sigil of the Destruction school. The shelves here were packed with heavy, iron bound tomes radiating faint auras of heat, cold, and static electricity.
Aerion reached out his hand, his long fingers trailing gently across the spines of the books.
He didn't need to open them. The moment his skin made contact with the leather binding of an Adept-level spell tome, the system interfaced directly with the magical knowledge contained within the pages.
A massive, glowing golden prompt exploded in his mind's eye.
[Spell Tome Detected: Destruction (Frost)]
[Would you like to permanently integrate the knowledge of the Frost matrix into your reality? YES / NO]
Aerion mentally smashed the YES button.
A sudden, breathtaking wave of absolute zero temperature flooded his mind. He instantly understood the complex, jagged geometric patterns required to halt molecular movement, to draw the ambient heat out of the air, and to weaponize pure, unadulterated cold.
[Skill Unlocked: Destruction (Frost)]
Description: Who needs a thick fur blanket when you can simply freeze your enemies into solid blocks of ice? Perfect for chilling a warm mead, rapidly stopping the momentum of a charging Frost Troll, or creating a highly lethal slip and fall hazard. Warning: Frequent use may cause severe, irreversible brain freeze and a sudden craving for snowberries.
The moment the skill unlocked, Aerion didn't stop. He walked down the aisle, running his hand rapidly across every single Destruction spellbook and skill book he was permitted to access.
The sheer volume of academic knowledge housed in the Arcanaeum flooded into his system, bypassing years of tedious study and transforming instantly into raw, numerical mastery.
[Destruction (Fire)(+1) Leveled Up 18 Times! Current Level: 18]
[Destruction (Lightning) Leveled Up 17 Times! Current Level: 79]
[Destruction (Frost) Leveled Up 20 Times! Current Level: 20]
He felt his Magicka pathways expand violently, his absolute mastery over the elements deepening with every passing second.
Aerion turned on his heel and strode purposefully toward the section illuminated by a soft, glowing golden sigil. The Restoration school.
He found a heavy, white bound tome and placed his palm flat against the cover.
[Spell Tome Detected: Restoration (Purify)]
[Would you like to permanently integrate the knowledge of the Purify matrix into your reality? YES / NO]
YES.
A brilliant, searing flash of holy light erupted in his consciousness. The abstract concept of divine energy, which had eluded him in the catacombs of Bleak Falls Barrow, was suddenly rendered into a perfectly understandable, geometric magical formula. He understood how to channel the ambient light of Aetherius to burn away corruption.
[Skill Unlocked: Restoration (Purify)]
Description: The magical equivalent of scrubbing the universe with incredibly strong, highly abrasive soap. Eradicates the restless undead, burns away foul curses, and can probably remove that weird, stubborn bloodstain from your favorite rug. Holy light and righteous indignation sold separately.
He swept his hands across the remaining Restoration texts.
[Restoration (Healing) Leveled Up 12 Times! Current Level: 49]
[Restoration (Purify) Leveled Up 16 Times! Current Level: 16]
Aerion moved like a phantom through the library, a silent, scholarly predator devouring the accumulated knowledge of thousands of years.
He swept through the Illusion section, absorbing the complex theories of mental manipulation, light refraction, and auditory hallucination.
[Illusion Leveled Up 19 Times! Current Level: 25]
He moved into the Alteration section, touching the heavy, dense tomes detailing the fundamental laws of gravity, mass manipulation, and magical shielding. The theories he had glimpsed from the Lesser Ward book were instantly expanded upon a hundredfold.
[Alteration Leveled Up 18 Times! Current Level: 22]
Finally, he approached the deepest, darkest corner of the Arcanaeum. The section illuminated by a pulsing, sickly purple sigil. The Conjuration school.
Aerion found two massive, chain bound tomes resting on a pedestal. He placed a hand on each.
[Spell Tome Detected: Conjuration (Necromancy)]
[Would you like to permanently integrate the knowledge of the Necromancy matrix into your reality? YES / NO]
[Spell Tome Detected: Conjuration (Summoning)]
[Would you like to permanently integrate the knowledge of the Summoning matrix into your reality? YES / NO]
He mentally selected YES for both.
A dark, incredibly heavy sensation settled over his soul. He suddenly grasped the terrifying mechanics of reaching across the dimensional veil into the chaotic void of Oblivion.
He understood the complex soul binding rituals required to anchor a Daedric entity to the mortal plane, and the grim, biological mechanics of forcing a soul back into a deceased vessel.
[Skill Unlocked: Conjuration (Necromancy)]
Description: Reduce, reuse, reanimate! Why let a perfectly good, heavily armored corpse go to waste? Excellent for overwhelming your enemies with sheer numbers or making new, albeit slightly smelly and completely mindless, friends.
[Skill Unlocked: Conjuration (Summoning)]
Description: Pulling terrifying, otherworldly entities from the depths of Oblivion for fun and profit. Daedra make absolutely terrible conversationalists, but they are undeniably excellent, highly lethal meat shields.
He ran his hands over the remaining Conjuration skill books, solidifying the dark, complex matrices into his permanent repertoire.
[Conjuration (Necromancy) Leveled Up 21 Times! Current Level: 21]
[Conjuration (Summoning) Leveled Up 24 Times! Current Level: 24]
Aerion stepped back from the bookshelves, his chest heaving slightly as his physical brain processed the astronomical influx of raw, unfiltered magical knowledge. He closed his eyes, centering his breathing, feeling the terrifying, absolute power coursing through his expanded Magicka pathways.
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[Main Panel] Name: Aerion Race: High Elf (Altmer) Health: 330/330 Stamina: 310/310 Magicka: 450/450 Level: 66
Skills: Animal Affinity (MAX LEVEL), Fast Skill Levelling (MAX LEVEL), Fast Magic Mastery (MAX LEVEL), Instant Shout (MAX LEVEL), Destruction (Fire(+1)/Lightning/Frost) (Level 18/79/20), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 49/16), Alteration (Level 22), Alteration (Level 4), Illusion (Level 25), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 21/24) - NEW, Persuasion (Level 85), Smithing (Level 22), Sneak (Level 26), One Handed (Level 67), Two Handed (Level 65), Lockpicking (Level 23), Archery (Level 72), Enchanting (Level 19), Light Armor (Level 53), Block (Level 60), & Pickpocket (Level 8)
Shouts: Fus (Force)
[Inventory Panel]
1x Steel Dagger, Small Sack, Poacher's Axe, Mammoth Tusk, Iron Shield, Steel Mace, Steel Warhammer, the Golden Claw, Calm Spellbook, Arvel's Journal, Inkwell & Quill, Thief Book, Scroll Of Summoning (Wolf), Scroll Of Healing, Steel Dagger of Minor Souls, Weak Potion of Paralysis, Ancient Nord Bow, Dragonstone, Ancient Nord Battleaxe Of Blaze, & Potion of Minor Pickpocketing
2x Iron Mace, Steel Axe, Steel Greatsword, & Lockpicks
3x Iron Greatsword, Steel Sword, Scroll Of Fireball, Glowing Mushrooms, & Potions of Minor Stamina
4x Potions of Minor Magicka & Spider Eggs
5x Lesser Soul Gem
8x Iron Arrows & Ancient Nord Arrows
9x Potions Of Minor Healing
Weight: 109.07 KG / 455 KG
Septims = 54,872