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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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'Ancano will definitely be a thorn in my side, Aerion thought to himself, striding across the snowy courtyard. He is going to make life miserable for every apprentice in this college. But out of everyone here... I am now firmly at the absolute top of his watchlist.'
After that the next three days at the College of Winterhold passed in a grueling, highly stimulating blur of academic rigor and arcane theory.
Aerion fully immersed himself in the curriculum, attending every single open lecture held by the respective Masters of the magical schools.
He quickly realized that while the System allowed him to instantly download raw matrices by touching spell tomes, listening to the practical, lived experiences of veteran mages provided a completely different, invaluable layer of understanding.
He learned the subtle wrist flicks required to optimize the Magicka draw of a sustained spell, the breathing techniques needed to prevent magical exhaustion, and the elemental tells of an opponent preparing to cast. This practical immersion caused a massive, organic surge in his capabilities.
Over the course of seventy two hours, without touching a single new book, his skills organically leveled up.
Through the sheer act of practicing alongside the masters, his Destruction matrices gained exactly five levels in Fire, five levels in Lightning, and seven levels in Frost. His other disciplines naturally increased as well, four levels in Healing, eight levels in Purify, five levels in Illusion, six levels in Alteration, seven levels in Necromancy, five levels in Summoning, and six levels in Enchanting.
During the practical exercises in the courtyard, Aerion carefully managed his image. He showed an undeniably great aptitude, a terrifyingly fast comprehension speed, and flawless execution.
However, he deliberately held himself back. In the schools of Illusion, Alteration, and Restoration, he performed exceptionally well, but he ensured his casts looked like the work of a brilliant, hardworking prodigy rather than an omnipotent god.
But in Destruction, he allowed his true, terrifying proficiency to bleed through. When Faralda asked for a demonstration of elemental compression, Aerion shattered the training targets with such casual, overwhelming kinetic force that the other apprentices were left in stunned silence.
This calculated display of power caused his reputation within the College to skyrocket.
Among the apprentices, the reaction was fiercely divided. Some of the humans students, particularly the Nords, allowed their deep seated racial jealousy to fester. They huddled in the corners of the Hall of Attainment, loudly whispering that his aptitude was nothing but a cheap, unearned byproduct of his High Elf bloodline.
Others, however, were highly competitive. They recognized that while his Altmer heritage provided a deeper Magicka pool, the absolute, flawless precision of his spell weaving was not something achieved through bloodline alone.
They knew, intuitively, that Aerion must have trained extensively, pushing his mind and body to the absolute limit to achieve such dominance.
Among the faculty, his reputation was immaculate. The senior mages and masters were thrilled to have a student who actually absorbed their teachings rather than constantly arguing against them.
Tolfdir and Faralda, in particular, quickly became the closest faculty members to him, often holding him back after lectures to discuss complex magical theories.
Recognizing that he needed to accelerate his growth even further to prepare for the impending Dragon Crisis, Aerion decided to leverage his massive financial reserves. Over the three days, he discreetly paid out a total of 2,500 septims to the various masters in exchange for intensive, one on one private tutoring sessions.
He spent an afternoon with the paranoid Drevis Neloren, paying the Dark Elf to teach him the absolute limits of light refraction, which spiked his Illusion skill by an incredible twelve levels.
He endured a deeply unsettling, morbid evening in the Midden with Phinis Gestor, paying the master to refine his spiritual tethering, increasing his both Conjuration magics by nine levels.
He sat through a long, highly defensive lecture from Colette Marence, validating her constant complaints that Restoration was a "perfectly valid school of magic," which earned him a ten level boost in his healing and purifying arts.
He paid the gruff Imperial, Sergius Turranius, for an advanced masterclass in soul gem binding, raising his Enchanting by nine levels. And finally, he spent a quiet evening by the fire with Tolfdir, discussing the fundamental manipulation of reality, increasing his Alteration by ten levels.
The sheer, concentrated influx of master-level knowledge forced his system into another massive evolutionary leap.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 76!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 77!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 78!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 79!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 80!]
Five level ups. Five attribute points.
Sitting alone in his quarters on the evening of the second day, Aerion immediately specced all five points directly into his arcane core.
[Magicka increased by 50! Current Magicka: 530/530]
The physical sensation was intoxicating. It didn't just feel like his Magicka pool had deepened, it felt as though an entire, swirling ocean of pure, volatile blue energy had been seamlessly integrated into his nervous system. His mind felt infinitely sharp, entirely unburdened by the usual mental fatigue that accompanied constant studying.
On the afternoon of the third day, the routine was broken.
Aerion was reading at his desk when a senior mage knocked on his door, informing him that the Arch-Mage, Savos Aren, had summoned him directly to his private quarters.
Leaving Lupin to nap on the fur bed, Aerion smoothed his robes and walked out of the Hall of Attainment. He crossed the courtyard, entered the central keep, and ascended the sweeping stone staircase that led to the highest point of the College.
As he stepped through the heavy, enchanted oak doors of the Arch-Mage's quarters, Aerion stopped, his golden eyes widening slightly in genuine appreciation.
Just like the Arcanaeum and the courtyard, the Arch-Mage's suite was heavily modified from the vanilla game. It was a breathtaking sanctuary of magical luxury and power.
The ceiling was enchanted to display a perfectly clear, slowly shifting map of the night sky, complete with glowing constellations. Lush, exotic alchemy ingredients grew in beautifully terraced, magically irrigated stone gardens ringing the room.
Displays of massive, flawlessly cut soul gems glowed with ambient light, and ancient, mythical staffs were mounted behind shimmering magical barriers. It was a room entirely befitting the most powerful mage in the province.
Standing in the center of the circular room, gathered around a large, polished scrying table, was the absolute elite of the College.
Savos Aren stood at the head of the table. Flanking him were Mirabelle Ervine, Tolfdir, Faralda, Drevis Neloren, Phinis Gestor, Colette Marence, and Sergius Turranius. The entire senior faculty had assembled.
Aerion walked forward, his posture exuding a perfect blend of aristocratic grace and academic respect. He offered a deep, formal bow to the assembled masters, particularly directing his respect toward the tired-looking Dunmer at the head of the table.
"Arch-Mage. Masters. You summoned me?" Aerion asked, his melodic voice completely steady.
Savos Aren offered a warm, genuinely pleased smile, gesturing for Aerion to step closer.
"Indeed we did, Aerion," Savos greeted him, his raspy voice echoing slightly under the starry ceiling. "We have called you here today to discuss your progress over the past three days since you officially joined our ranks. It is not an exaggeration to say that your talents, your raw aptitude, and the sheer, relentless hard work you have demonstrated are... entirely unprecedented."
Savos looked around the table, meeting the eyes of the other masters. "The progress you have shown in such a condensed period of time is far more than upstanding. It is extraordinary."
"I am deeply humbled by your kind words, Arch-Mage," Aerion replied, pressing a hand over his heart in a gesture of gratitude.
Mirabelle stepped forward, crossing her arms with a look of strict, professional approval. "I must admit, Aerion, when Faralda first praised your entrance exam, I believed it to be standard Altmer boasting. I did not expect this level of dedication and rapid progress from a new arrival. You have proven my skepticism entirely unfounded."
The other masters chimed in. Colette praised his delicate touch with Restoration weaves, Sergius grunted an acknowledgment of his sharp mind for Enchanting, and Phinis offered a rather creepy, lingering smile regarding Aerion's comfort with the darker arts.
Aerion received the barrage of praise with practiced, flawless diplomacy. He offered humble thanks, but he deliberately allowed a small, perfectly measured dose of inherent Altmer ego to bleed into his smile.
He needed them to believe he was just a highly talented, slightly arrogant High Elf prodigy. If he acted entirely too humble, it would raise massive red flags regarding his true nature. A High Elf with this much power who didn't have an ego was a statistical impossibility.
"Your instruction has been flawless, Masters," Aerion said smoothly, letting his chin rise just a fraction. "Though I must admit, it is deeply satisfying to see that the proper application of focus and superior magical bloodlines yields the expected results."
Faralda smirked, recognizing the familiar Altmer pride, while the human masters simply rolled their eyes with amusement.
Savos Aren chuckled, tapping his fingers against the scrying table. "Indeed. And because of those exceptional results, Aerion, we have come to a unanimous decision."
The Arch-Mage's expression grew formal. "Due to your unprecedented progress, you are hereby recognized as the fastest student in the history of this institution to be promoted from the rank of Apprentice to the level of Adept."
Aerion's eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise. He had fully expected to grind away as an apprentice for at least a few weeks.
"As an Adept," Savos continued, "you are now granted unrestricted access to the advanced spell tomes in the Arcanaeum, and you may attend the closed, Adept level theoretical lectures. Furthermore, we are formally granting you the authority to assist the Masters in teaching the younger apprentices in basic magical theory and spell execution."
Savos raised a hand to forestall any immediate objections. "Naturally, all teaching duties are entirely voluntary, and as an Adept, you will not receive a formal salary from the College coffers. However, it is customary for the College to bestow a gift upon a student who achieves this rank with such distinction."
Savos reached behind him, retrieving a long, heavy object wrapped in dark velvet. He pulled the velvet away, revealing a breathtaking magical weapon.
It was a Staff of Flames. The shaft was forged from heavy, solid gold, intricately carved with the sweeping, intertwining reliefs of roaring dragons. At the head of the staff, clutched in the golden jaws of the primary dragon carving, was a massive, glowing ruby that radiated a profound, ambient heat.
Savos held the golden staff out, presenting it to Aerion.
Aerion reached out and took the weapon. The moment his fingers closed around the golden shaft, he felt the dense, highly refined Destruction enchantment humming within the ruby.
"I... I am truly honored," Aerion said, his surprise entirely genuine. In the vanilla game, the player was never formally classified or promoted through the academic ranks unless they used a specific immersion mod.
To experience the structural progression firsthand, and to be rewarded for it, was incredibly satisfying. "I must thank you, Arch-Mage, and all the Masters, for this highly unexpected promotion. I fully expected to remain an apprentice for quite some time."
The room erupted into soft, genuine laughter.
"We generally adhere strictly to the academic calendar," Savos Aren smiled, leaning back against the table. "But we are scholars, Aerion. We must occasionally make exceptions for students who display not only very great potential, but an excellent attitude toward their studies. You are one of those rare exceptions. You should be immensely proud of what you have achieved today."
As the formal promotion concluded, Tolfdir stepped forward, stroking his massive white beard.
"Speaking of your new teaching privileges, Aerion," Tolfdir said, his eyes twinkling with grandfatherly amusement. "If you are amenable to it, I would very much like for you to join me in the Hall of Elements shortly. I am scheduled to teach the apprentices the practical application of Wards in live combat."
Tolfdir gestured toward the High Elf. "From the precision of your footwork and your spatial awareness in the courtyard, I can see that you possess highly extensive, practical combat experience. I believe a demonstration from a newly minted Adept would be highly educational for them."
Aerion smiled, nodding his head thoughtfully. "I would be honored to assist you, Master Tolfdir. Though, in the spirit of absolute academic honesty, I must confess that I do not possess a vast amount of combat experience regarding the actual usage of Wards."
Tolfdir blinked, surprised. "Truly? How do you manage hostile spellfire?"
Aerion's smile widened into a sharp, lethal smirk. "I find that the best defense is absolute, overwhelming offense. I usually just utilize Destruction magic to completely decimate my enemies before they have the chance to finish casting."
Tolfdir let out a loud, booming laugh that echoed off the starry ceiling, while Faralda and Drevis shared a look of pure, destructive appreciation.
"Well then!" Tolfdir chuckled, clapping Aerion on the shoulder. "It seems you will be learning something valuable from this demonstration as well, won't you? Wards are the absolute foundation of magical survival, my boy."
"I am entirely at your disposal, Master Tolfdir," Aerion accepted the invitation gracefully. He genuinely liked the eccentric Alteration master. Tolfdir's personality in this reality was vastly deeper, more intelligent, and vastly more engaging than his limited, repetitive game code counterpart.
"Wonderful!" Tolfdir beamed. "It will also serve as an excellent stage to formally introduce your new position to the student body. The apprentices need to know there is a new Adept they can approach for guidance, as our upper ranks have been rather thin lately."
Savos Aren stepped forward, signaling the end of the meeting. "I expect great things from you if you stay on this course, Aerion. Do not let your new rank make you complacent. You are all dismissed."
With a final, unified bow to the Arch-Mage, the masters filed out of the breathtaking suite. Aerion hold the heavy golden Staff of Flames in his hand, ensuring his hands were free, and joined Tolfdir on the sweeping stone staircase.
They descended the stairs, leaving the antechamber and walking directly into the massive, echoing expanse of the Hall of Elements.
The glowing blue well in the center of the room cast long shadows across the stone floor. Gathered in a wide semi circle around the magical pillar were roughly two dozen apprentices, waiting quietly for the magic lecture to begin today.
As Aerion walked down the steps alongside Tolfdir, his golden eyes immediately scanned the crowd.
He spotted them instantly. Standing near the back of the group were the three apprentices he had bumped into on his first day, the blonde Nord Yrsa, the grumpy Dunmer Ravyn, and the Khajiit J'zari.
Aerion maintained a calm, impassive expression, but his mind was calculating rapidly. Over the past three days, he had not found a single opportunity to improve his relationship with them, or with any of the other apprentices.
The racial prejudice, combined with the sheer, toxic jealousy over his rapid magical advancement, had created a solid wall of isolation around him.
The apprentices either actively avoided him, brushed past him in the halls without speaking, or were simply too fiercely competitive to engage in casual conversation.
It was a significant tactical problem. Aerion possessed a maximized, incredibly potent Persuasion skill, but the skill was utterly useless if he couldn't actually get his targets to speak to him.
He needed an opening. He needed a moment to force an interaction, to break the ice and begin screening candidates for his private army.
As Tolfdir and Aerion came to a halt in the very center of the hall, directly facing the silent, expectant crowd of apprentices, Aerion realized this demonstration was the perfect, highly public opportunity he had been waiting for.
Tolfdir cleared his throat, raising his hands to command the attention of the room, while Aerion stood tall beside him, an imposing, golden skinned Adept with a staff ready to show the novices exactly what the gap in power truly looked like.
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[Main Panel]
Name: Aerion Race: High Elf (Altmer)
Health: 350/350 Stamina: 350/350 Magicka: 500/500
Level: 75 ➝ 80
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 23/84/27), Restoration (Healing/Purify) (Level 63/34), Alteration (Level 22), Alteration (Level 20), Illusion (Level 42), Conjuration (Necromancy/Summoning) (Level 37/38), 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 34), 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 / 475 KG
Septims = 52,572