Edwyn and Agryn trudged through the snow on their way to the spot the Jarl of Dawnstar had pointed out for them. He could feel his skin prickling with the magic as they neared it. Edwyn Wickham carried no physical weapons and hadn’t since he’d been a young man. Instead, he conjured what he needed. As Agryn tapped him on the arm and pointed ahead through the trees, Edwyn conjured his bow, to have it at the ready.
Jarl Skald of Dawnstar had been quite angry about the whole affair, as it happened. But then, Jarl Skald had been quite angry about most of life for some time.
If my sources are correct, nearly the only thing Skald has been remotely pleased about in the past fifty years has been Ulfric Stormcloak’s victory over the Imperial Legion. More’s the pity.
“Damn wizards and their damned magic!” Skald had grumbled, pacing before his throne. “Letting loose things like this out in the world when there was no need for ‘em!”
Edwyn had kept a smile plastered on his face, but had struggled to keep his temper. “Actually, my Jarl,” he said, “it was not the College of Winterhold but an ambassador from the Thalmor Embassy who created the problem. While it is true that Master Tolfdir and I discovered the object of power, it was the Thalmor who did everything in his power to disrupt its equilibrium. In the end it was he who was ultimately responsible for the event that has resulted in these… anomalies.”
“Archmage Wickham actually killed the Thalmor and prevented what might have been a far greater catastrophe, sir,” Agryn Gernic added quietly.
The Jarl had seemed to come to his senses then, realizing that he was indeed speaking to the Archmage and the very person who had rid the world of the power-mad Ancano. He flushed, and then harrumphed and resumed his seat on the throne.
“Well then. Yes. And well done, at that. Damned Thalmor and their damned Concordats and their damned magic! I, uh, thank you, Archmage. I suppose I’ll thank you even further once you’ve gotten rid of our little problem. Having the Archmage himself come out to deal with it is…”
“It’s the least I could do,” Edwyn said smoothly, bowing his head. “Several of our most senior wizards were killed or injured in the explosion, and our most experienced living mage is currently in charge of the College’s day-to-day operations. Training the next wave of students, and all that. I am more available to deal with such issues as this. I do feel a certain responsibility for it. Without any real knowledge of the Thalmor’s skills or how the object he was manipulating worked, we did try everything we had against it. Undoubtedly that was what created the unwanted release of arcane power.”
“Yes. Well. Go to it, man. Don’t just leave these – things – flying around my countryside! I need to keep the people safe! Come back and see me after you’re done and we’ll speak more.”
Edwyn had smiled, and bowed, and he and Agryn had left the Jarl’s longhouse. As soon as they made it out the door Edwyn had erupted.
“Arrgh! The utter temerity of the man!”
“Well, Edwyn, he is used to being in charge. Don’t let him get to you. He’s an old man, and a great many strange things have been happening in his hold in a short period of time.”
Edwyn had taken a few deep breaths and then considered Agryn’s words more deeply. “You’re very likely correct. First the dragons returned; then there was the business with Auriel’s Bow.”
“Exactly. That must have felt as though the world was ending, to have the sky go dark over and over the way it did. Just picture him, an old man, being asked to explain something that he had no way to explain, and everyone in the town expecting him to have an answer when he didn’t even know the right question to ask.”
“And then the war. And now this. You’re a wise man, Agryn. I should listen to you more often.”
“I hate to brag.” Agryn grinned.
Edwyn chuckled. Agryn had been the best of companions for a very long time and his sense of humor was one of the reasons why.
Edwyn took out the map and stared at it. “Well, let us go eliminate the threat, in that case. It’s a shame that Ancano died. I would take a great deal of pleasure in slaying him all over again just to reiterate a point.”
They’d continued on their way, even the fact that it was full daylight not concerning Edwyn much. They’d both taken care to feed before leaving the College. Each of them carried blood potions with them in the event of an emergency, though Edwyn anticipated no need to use them. Edwyn might be slightly injured; he might well need to conjure not only a weapon but an assistant – a wraith, or a familiar or an atronach of some kind – and even doing so would barely make inroads into his deep well of power. He rarely made use of the abilities he had gained by virtue of being a vampire, preferring instead to rely on his skills with weapons and traditional forms of magic. Agryn, on the other hand, made frequent and effective use of his vampiric draining spell, the one he had been attempting to cast on the Dragonborn when they had been interrupted by the unfortunate fireball.
They crept around the end of a rock outcropping, silent in the way only a pair of senior vampires could be. The prickling of his skin grew stronger by the moment. Ahead of them, nestled at the base of a stand of trees, was a semi-transparent, greenish ball of energy, whirling and coruscating in place. Edwyn frowned; it didn’t look like the magical anomalies that had nearly overwhelmed the town of Winterhold shortly before Ancano’s demise. Those had been smaller, denser, almost wisp-like in their appearance, and they had flown through the air in a similar fashion to an ice wraith.
Edwyn raised his bow and fired an arrow at the energy. He watched as it flew to the dead center of the ball and then sailed harmlessly through it without any apparent effect.
“Did you miss?” Agryn whispered incredulously. “Hardly seems possible!”
“No, I didn’t miss. The arrow went exactly where it should have gone. It just didn’t do anything.”
He walked closer to the energy mass, firing arrows as he went. Each of them acted as the first had, sailing harmlessly through the center of the ball and emerging on the other side to fall into the snow. He took another step nearer the energy.
Suddenly, the center of it flared white, rendering it more opaque. Edwyn felt a wave of negative energies flow past him, and he raised his ebony flesh armor spell. Agryn drew his sword and rushed past him to the far side of the mass, yelling “Come on! Come on!”
There was an explosion. It was the same type of explosion he’d experienced in Winterhold, when the Eye of Magnus had discharged enough energy in one moment to kill Savos Aren, the former Archmage, outright and to throw Mirabelle Ervine into the wall so hard that she was ultimately unable to recover from her wounds. This was the same, simply on a much smaller scale.
An icy-looking, compact ball of energy flew at his face. Edwyn conjured a pair of swords and barely managed to block it from striking him; even so, its energy singed him as it flew past and he hissed.
These, I recognize. These are what we fought in Winterhold. They are annoying and they are tough but we can defeat them.
Both of them began slashing and hammering away at the wisp-like beasts. Edwyn noticed that while most of them were white and semi-solid, at least one was nearly transparent like the parent energy mass. They were all ridiculously hard to strike. He was an excellent swordsman, but he found himself taking wide swings that missed completely and resulted in his own momentum carrying him forward, nearly unbalanced. A short distance away he saw Agryn having the same trouble. He backed up to consider what other approach he might take.
There was a roar. Edwyn glanced to the side and groaned.
Just what we needed. A frost troll.
It wasn’t as though he was particularly concerned about the troll. Either one of them on his own could take down a troll without any difficulty and without sustaining much more than a scratch or two. But it was day, their strength was slightly diminished in the sunlight, and they were also fighting a number of writhing balls of compact, malign energy at the same time.
“I’ll kill you!” Agryn yelled at the troll, who gave him a solid whack and sent him backward.
Edwyn growled and conjured a second sword. He was better fighting with dual weapons than with a single one; perhaps it was something to do with balance, he didn’t know. What he was certain of was that he needed to get rid of some of these energy wisps so that Agryn could deal with the troll.
He lit into the nearest wisp. He could feel, this time, that he was making contact with it, and could hear the sizzles as each sword strike chipped away at the wisp’s health. It writhed and swirled in front of him, occasionally getting close enough to injure him just a tiny bit. Then it disappeared from view, somewhere behind the original ball of energy.
Agryn, off to his right and into the trees, had taken care of the troll; but there were at least two and possibly more wisps circling him. He had his left hand extended, drawing life force from the wisps with his vampiric powers, and struck solid blows on them with his sword any time they approached closely enough. Edwyn ran into the midst of the battle, hammering away at the anomaly nearest him.
He kept missing his target, as striking one of the anomalies was roughly equivalent to trying to strike running water. Once, he struck Agryn a glancing blow.
“What are you doing?” Agryn growled.
“Sorry!” Edwyn cried, reaching over his head to swipe angrily at the nearest anomaly, the one Agryn was draining. It turned out that this was the one nearest to being defeated. His sword struck the creature, its magic slicing through what was left of the wisp-like ball. It exploded, leaving a shining pile of substance on the forest floor.
He swiveled to locate the next nearest anomaly. Then he heard the distinctive sound of two ice spikes being cast in a row. Agryn was highly accomplished at that form of magic, but wouldn’t have wasted his energies on a target moving as rapidly as the wisps. Edwyn pivoted to find his friend; just as he did so he heard a Khajiit woman snarling.
“You’re dead!”
Edwyn spotted the Khajiit standing just inside the cover of one of the trees’ branches, taking aim with a bow. He sprinted into her, attacking with both swords and all of his strength. He was well on his way to dispatching her when he heard someone yell “die, vampire!”
What? Where?
The Khajiit wasn’t dropping. She was a tough piece of sinew, for certain, and Edwyn wasn’t exactly sure what he should do.
Then he remembered his new spell.
He thought for a moment and then dispelled the sword in his left hand, replacing it with the Blood Boil spell he’d learned. For a moment he was afraid that it wasn’t working. Then an ominous red disc of power extended from his hand, swirling around him and reaching for the Khajiit. He could see her taking damage. He could also feel his own health diminishing, as Colette had told him it would. After a few moments he stopped, slicing at the Khajiit with his sword while casting the improved healing spell with his left hand. To his astonishment, he felt almost completely healthy again in just a moment.
He grinned at the Khajiit. He thought about using a maneuver he rarely used; namely, a combat bite that would have his fangs tearing out her throat. He began to bare those fangs and then heard a growl off to his left.
What? Another troll?
He could still hear Agryn fighting with whoever had attacked him, but he couldn’t take his attention off the Khajiit. He slashed at her once, twice; and then she gasped, her eyes widened in fear and pain, and she dropped to the snow. The frost troll had run up behind her and given her the final blow.
Edwyn backpedaled as quickly as possible and, out of pure reflex, cast a frost cloud on the troll. Then he tsk’d. Frost spell on a frost troll? And you’re the Archmage of Winterhold? Absurd. The late and unlamented Vingalmo would be laughing at you now.
To my credit, he thought as he changed his spell to the vampiric flames that burned both hot and cold at once, I was under pressure from several directions at the same time. And it did manage to slow the creature for a moment.
The troll howled in pain and took several precious seconds to find its way out of the lingering cold flames. Edwyn used those seconds to dispel his sword and conjure his bow in its place, backing away from the troll and firing at it once, and then again. The second arrow took the troll down.
He paused for a moment to look around and realized that he could neither see nor hear Agryn. For the space of a heartbeat or two Edwyn wondered whether it was even possible that he had lost his loyal friend and lieutenant to this unexpected onslaught of multiple enemies. He ran back toward the trees where he’d last seen Agryn and there, just over an incline, he saw the red glow that said Agryn was still at battle with something.
It was the nearly-transparent wisp Agryn fought; and Agryn was clearly flagging. With every massive blow he grunted loudly. The wisp was tagging him on every pass. Edwyn began firing arrows at it, but his arms were tiring as well, and his aim was off. He thought frantically about all the things he might possibly use against the creature and at last conjured something he rarely used: an ash spawn.
The creature native to Solstheim was also a creature of fire; and here in the cold wastes of the Pale he thought that maybe, just maybe, its fireballs could make a difference against the cold energy that had been dogging both of them. The ash spawn emerged wielding a fiery sword and casting fireballs with its left hand. Edwyn watched as the first fireball exploded beneath the branches of a tree but he couldn’t tell whether it had done any damage to the wisp. He conjured his bow once more and tried yet again to find the wisp with an arrow: once, twice; and when the third arrow went wide he snarled and conjured a sword in its place, running closer in to the battle.
The ash spawn fired a fireball at the wisp, illuminating it long enough for Edwyn to make a massive overhand blow on it. He felt the concussion of his sword with what should have been an ethereal object run all the way up his arm into his shoulder.
The wisp flew off. All three of them – Edwyn, Agryn, and the ash spawn – gave chase.
They were approaching the roadway when movement to his left made Edwyn groan. As if it hadn’t been enough to battle a Khajiit assassin and a vampire hunter, two frost trolls and three or four magical anomalies with varying degrees of visibility and strength – now there was a giant frostbite spider moving in to attack.
The spider was nothing. Edwyn could down a frostbite spider without much more than a thought. But it was the accumulated indignity of a spider attack after everything else they’d dealt with that had him ready to scream.
The wisp, however, decided to attack the spider. Edwyn raised his sword to attack the spider and then yelped; the remaining anomaly had approached him from behind and gotten close enough to damage him. He cast healing with his left hand and took a massive blow at the spider with the right, and it went down.
An ice spike caught him in the leg.
“Sorry, Edwyn!” Agryn panted. “Anomaly!”
“I know, I know!”
The ash spawn was proving to be remarkably useful as it kept illuminating the magical anomaly with fire. Edwyn knew they must have it nearly dead; and yet it kept slithering and squirming just out of reach. Once more it made for the open roadway, followed by all three of them bent on finally getting rid of the thing. The ash spawn landed several decent blows on the creature before its time ran out, and it disintegrated into a pile of dust on the snow. Edwyn and Agryn swapped a quick glance and followed the thing around another outcropping of rock and up an incline. Agryn got there ahead of Edwyn; and just as Edwyn reached him there was a mighty explosion as Agryn landed the final blow.
He came trudging back around the rock to meet Edwyn.
“Are you alright, my lord?” he said.
“Me? What about you, Agryn? Once again you’ve shouldered more than your fair share of the work.”
“I’m a bit tired. Nothing that a quick snack won’t fix.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a blood potion. “You might think about having one yourself. That may possibly have been the most ridiculous battle I’ve ever taken part in.”
“I agree. Was that a Vigilant of Stendarr who attacked you while I was otherwise occupied?”
“I’m not sure whether she was that, or some other kind of hunter, but she was definitely after vampires.” They walked for a few moments, and then Agryn chuckled. “But she’s dead now.”
“Indeed. That was well done, my friend. I do hope that our friend Jarl Skald will keep us in mind when it is time for the Moot.”
“Make sure he knows who your spouse is.”
“I shall.”
They walked in companionable silence for some time, making their way back toward Dawnstar. Edwyn was lost in thought, trying to determine what he might say to the Jarl that would convince him to support Solitude’s – or rather, his – bid to become High King.
Anything I can think of to say is arrogant or threatening. Truthful, but arrogant or threatening. Perhaps I am not charming enough. He wrinkled his nose. Brynjolf’s offhanded comment about his former partner still rankled, in spite of all his attempts to forget about it. He opened his mouth to complain but was interrupted by Agryn’s hand on his arm.
“Up ahead. I think it’s another vampire.”
The solitary figure trudged toward them, his head down. As he neared them, it became clear to Edwyn that the man wore armor much like that the Volkihar nobles wore. He frowned.
“I don’t know this one. But he’s clearly one of us.”
Agryn nodded. “He seems familiar. I think I’ve come across him before. In Cyrodiil. A long, long time ago.”
As they came alongside the man Agryn cleared his throat. The man looked up. He was an Imperial, dark-haired with a slender nose and piercing gaze. He had short but dense stubble covering his strong jaw line and looked, to Edwyn’s eye, almost aristocratic.
There’s one who would have no difficulty attracting women. Or men, if that is his preference.
“Hello, brother,” Agryn said, smiling.
The man looked up at them and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Agryn continued, undaunted by the man’s silence.
“I sense that you are very strong. The Lord of Volkihar Castle would be pleased to have you join us, I feel certain. Isn’t that right, Edwyn?” he added, grinning.
“It certainly is,” Edwyn said.
The man shook his head. “Not interested.”
“Oh come now,” Edwyn said, intrigued by the man’s attitude. “We’ve recently lost one of our senior members, in fact. I am certain that you would be most welcome to fill that particular void.”
The vampire smirked. “Don’t care.”
Agryn stepped a bit closer to the man, and then back just as quickly when a rumble from him made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with proximity of any sort. “I would swear I’ve met you before. Where was it? Hmmm…” He rubbed his chin. “Skingrad? In court, perhaps?”
Ah, there it is, Edwyn thought as he watched a flash of some emotion pass across the man’s eyes. He’s saddened by this.
The man peered at Agryn, and Edwyn thought there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes for just a moment. Then the wary, sad, neutral expression dropped back over his face and he shook his head.
“Nothing left,” he said. Then he pushed past them, waving a hand as he went.
“If you change your mind,” Edwyn called after him, “come and see me at the castle.”
He thought the man hesitated for just a moment; but he then pushed on, trudging down the road toward the west.
“What a shame,” he murmured. “He does seem quite substantial. And given the current state of affairs in the world it would be good to add another powerful vampire to our midst.”
Agryn cleared his throat. “Perhaps getting rid of Vingalmo was not the best idea you’ve ever had, Edwyn.”
Edwyn’s head snapped around and he stared at Agryn. “I’m very rarely angry with you, my friend,” he said quietly, “but I would suggest you refrain from questioning my actions. Vingalmo had been a thorn in my side since before I met you. I spent more years than I care to recall being nothing short of saintly in my interactions with him. He wanted Harkon’s throne and thought he could take it from me through political maneuvering, so as to avoid a direct confrontation. He was a grasping, arrogant bastard who needed to be sent to the Void long, long ago.”
Agryn held up both hands, palms facing outward in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry, Edwyn. Sorry. I merely referred to the diminished defensive strength at the castle. That’s all. No offense was meant.”
Edwyn rubbed his eyes. I’m getting altogether too testy lately. I need to rein myself in. All the deceit and politicking is getting to me.
“No offense was taken, Agryn. Please accept my apologies for being short-tempered.”
Agryn nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was probably for the best that he didn’t, Edwyn thought. Agryn was also a very strong-willed vampire and anything he might have said right then likely would have been tinged with anger.
We can’t allow ourselves to be angry with each other. Not right now. We need each other too much.
Or perhaps it is simply that I need him. Perhaps I am not as necessary to him as I believe myself to be.
They resumed their silent trek toward Dawnstar. A few minutes later Edwyn spoke again, feeling as though he needed Agryn’s take on something that had just occurred to him.
“I find myself unaccountably… distressed is perhaps too strong a word. Disturbed, perhaps? By our last encounter with Geor Mandel at Proudspire.”
“What disturbed you about that?”
“He seemed a bit too enthusiastic about his mission, Agryn. Perhaps a bit too content with himself.”
Agryn snorted. “I thought that was the idea. He relieves you of the burden of getting Elisif with child and in return, he gets, well…” He trailed off with a snicker. “Lucky. Very, very lucky.”
Edwyn frowned, not so much at Agryn but at himself. “Yes. Of course. But she is after all my wife, Agryn.”
“And you’ve barely been there to cement the relationship. Ever since you got married we’ve been dashing from place to place trying to figure out how to get hold of a Dragonborn.” Suddenly he stopped walking and turned to face Edwyn. A slow grin crept up his mouth. “Wait a second. Are you telling me you’re jealous of the man?”
Edwyn stopped dead in his tracks. “Of course not! My marriage to Elisif is nothing more than one of expediency, one ordered by Harkon. You know that. My affections lie… elsewhere,” he added quietly.
Agryn peered at him and then laughed. “You are jealous! My, my. I never thought I’d see the day. Edwyn Wickham, jealous of a mortal man’s affairs.”
Edwyn felt his temper flare. He snarled. “I told you to be careful, Agryn. Don’t make me angry.”
Agryn Gernic was a very patient individual. Edwyn knew that. Perhaps that was why he often pushed the man as far as he did; he knew that Agryn would allow the abuse to run off him like rain off a rooftop. But on this occasion, Agryn had apparently had enough. He threw his hands up in an angry gesture.
“Don’t make you angry? You, Edwyn? Is it always about you and what you want or need? You marry a woman you don’t love for the sake of a dead man’s dreams and then complain when someone you’ve made to look exactly like you develops a warm relationship with her. And then you rip out the throat of a member of Volkihar nobility and expect the rest of us to say nothing about it? By the divines, man, do you ever look at yourself with a clear set of eyes? We are not your doormats! Particularly not me! Do you have any concept of how much I have given up, personally, in order to serve you – including nearly dying on several occasions?”
Agryn pointed back down the road in the direction the Imperial vampire had gone. “That man seems to have been an excellent judge of character. I don’t know that I’d want to join your court either, if circumstances were different, Edwyn. I may be too set in my ways to start my own clan at this point but by the divines it’s a temptation some days, and don’t think I couldn’t still give it a shot.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to taste. Agryn stared at Edwyn for a few moments. Then he put his hands on his hips and drew a deep breath. He looked up at the sky and released it, slowly.
How trusting he is, Edwyn thought. Look at him exposing his neck like that.
“Edwyn,” Agryn said, returning his head to its normal position and shrugging, “in spite of everything I just said you are, in fact, my friend. And you’re far too important to me for me to leave. That’s just the way it is. I don’t want to end up like that man we just met, muttering about having nothing left because he’s lost his friend. I was right about him, you know; his eyes told me as much. I met him in Skingrad, a very long time ago. He was a friend to the former Count, and now he’s alone. I don’t want that to be my fate too, Edwyn. But you really need to acknowledge that you might have gone too far with Vingalmo.” He started walking again, back toward Dawnstar.
Did I? Did I really? The man had been an obstruction and a threat to me from the very start and…
He looked down at his feet as the realization dawned. And if the situation had been reversed I too would have been concerned about a mortal spouse for one of our nobles, for exactly the reasons he gave me. He was simply being prudent, and I let the centuries of resentment overpower my reason.
“Yes, I did,” he said quietly.
He’d heard Agryn’s footsteps crunching quietly in the snow. The sound stopped, and Agryn’s voice filled the vacancy.
“You… what did you say?”
Edwyn looked up at Agryn and grinned. “I said, my friend, that you are entirely correct as is so often the case. I lost my temper. I allowed all of the accumulated irritations and slights overcome my equilibrium and I slew Vingalmo rather than simply giving him the comeuppance he deserved. You were right, Agryn, and I was wrong.” He started walking again, and as he caught up to his stunned friend he chuckled. “But I will tell you this much: he had very tasty blood for such an old mer.”
Agryn started to laugh.
___
“Your lands are free of magic anomalies and frost trolls, at least for the moment,” Edwyn told the Jarl.
The old man harrumphed and nodded. “Good, good. Now I suppose you’ll want coin or something for your service.”
Edwyn noted the superior smile on the Jarl’s man, standing next to him, and laughed to himself. He’ll love what comes next, I’m certain. “Oh no, not at all,” he said, smiling. “But I would like to have your cooperation on a certain matter.”
“And what matter would that be?” the Jarl grunted.
“It happens that I am not only the Archmage, my good sir, but the spouse of the lovely Jarl Elisif of Solitude.”
“Is that so? I didn’t think the girl would remarry so soon after the High King’s death.”
“The Jarl,” Agryn interjected, staring at Skald with a glare that even Edwyn found intimidating, “was quite happy to wed my lord Edwyn. They’re anticipating starting a family at their earliest convenience. It will be good to have some continuity in the capital, don’t you agree?”
Skald’s eyes narrowed and he stared at Edwyn. “Is that so?” he said again.
“Yes, that is so,” Edwyn said, smiling. “The matter at hand, however, is the business of the Moot. It is very likely to be held soon, unless I miss my guess, and it would be most pleasing if you would support the current Jarl of Solitude for the position. She is, after all, Torygg’s heir and his legitimate successor.”
“And we just fought a damn war to put Ulfric on the throne, man!” Skald shouted. “Why would I suddenly change my mind about such a thing?”
Edwyn smiled, parting his lips just enough that he knew from practice Skald would see a hint of fangs but not be certain of what he saw. “Because the Archmage of Winterhold has just rid your hold of some very dangerous magical anomalies, my dear Jarl. They did so much damage to Winterhold before we were able to subdue them there. A very large outbreak. So many deaths. It would be a true shame if such things were to reappear in your lands, I am certain.”
A few minutes later Edwyn Wickham and Agryn Gernic left Dawnstar, having been reassured that the Jarl of that hold would give serious consideration to supporting Elisif of Solitude as the next High Queen of Skyrim. They walked to the water’s edge and hired the ferry to Windhelm. They settled into the boat, sharing triumphant grins.