Chapter 114: Initiation

"Even after all my studies - all that training, to have someone like him -" Sirilonwe almost spat the word at Trebonius Artorius' body - "just... render me helpless like that. He was yet to be born when I... Gah!" She exclaimed in frustration - before continuing in a more sombre tone: "To be trapped like that by him... After all this time..."

She shook her head slowly, those large eyes of hers fixed on mine. Other Mages Guild members, informed of Trebonius' actions by Sirilonwe before her departure for the Arena, were arriving and grouping around the late Arch-Mage's body - a little way from us. Everything had happened so quickly - and no-one in the guild (save for Sirilonwe and I) knew of the duel until it was underway - so I think there were some suspicions as to the exact circumstances of Trebonius' death.

I was not surprised to see Ranis Athrys among them; even though her position as Steward of the Balmora guild hall (physically a long way from Vivec) made her fast appearance at the scene somewhat suspicious. I suspected that she had in fact hoped that I would kill Trebonius - and that pushing he and I into a confrontation was the reason for my rapid series of promotions. Before I could consider the ramifications and reasons for all this, however, Sirilonwe broke her momentary silence:

"After all this time..." She repeated. "I am old, Edward... though I may not look it. Any longer and it will show, I think. Oh, you look so shocked! But why do you think I have all those books on magically extending one's life? Why do you think I study vampires so closely? Why do you think I am still by your side? Why do you think I am willing to share a bed with a vampire?"

I just stared at her. I have mentioned before that I had no idea how old Sirilonwe was - I was like that with most elves (some lived for hundreds of years, after all) - but I had never imagined her to be a truly old woman - not as old as she was insinuating.

"I have used those books: I have extended my life through magic - for a long time now. It will not last any longer. The thought of dying - of aging, even... it terrifies me." Sirilonwe's expressive eyes portrayed this fear eloquently. "Without magic I am weak - and old. I want to be with you - and I want to be strong - and I want to live forever."

I finally found my voice:

"Siri, I... I just thought... I thought you didn't like what I've become... I had no idea..."

"I am sorry I put you through so much over... the necessary aspects of being a vampire." Sirilonwe said ruefully. "It was... to see such things, right before my eyes - and to think that that was what my future held, should I manage the... the change... I was afraid." She shook her head again. "But you, Edward: when you decided, you just left... and then you came back, a vampire. How did you make yourself do it?"

"I was able to do it without hesitation for the same reason I think you are able to ask me for it now." I replied. "A greater fear - the same fear that compels you now - spurred me on."

At that moment, Steward Ranis approached, with some interesting news:

"Based on Sirilonwe and Janand's testimonies, it has been decided that the... skirmish between you and the late Arch-Mage Trebonius Artorius constitutes an official and legally binding duel. Congratulations, Frost." Ranis smiled, a cunning look in her eyes.

I clasped her hand for a moment - stiffly. I had not forgotten the questionable, self-serving things she had once ordered me to do in the name of the guild.

"Thankyou, Ranis. It is a relief to know that I will not be held responsible for his death."

There was a pregnant pause. Ranis gave me a strange look, then grinned abruptly; never-mind the still-cooling body of the late Arch-Mage just behind her.

"You don't realise what it means, do you? There are only a few ways the Arch-Mage of a province may be replaced. The Mages Council in Cyrodiil must vote in favour of making a replacement, or a current Arch-Mage must choose a successor - again usually in consultation with the Council. The other way - an old law, but still a valid one - is through a duel. Both parties must agree to the challenge - so obviously it is quite unusual for an Arch-Mage to accept a challenge to a duel, let alone be the one to issue the challenge himself..."

I thought I understood then why Ranis had manoeuvred Artorius and I into that fight: she wanted him removed from power, and saw (through me) a way to achieve that.

"In any case, Arch-Mage Frost," Ranis continued, "this means you have a new office to call your own."


My initiation ceremony took place later in the day: after a service in honour of Trebonius Artorius (not the actual funeral; just a Mages Guild ritual). I (and Sirilonwe too, I'm sure) had no good memories of the late Arch-Mage, so I spent the duration of the service studying the skull-and-dagger amulet (which I later learned to be called the 'Amulet of the Necromancer'). No-one was aware of this, as all I had to do was grasp the amulet in my hand and concentrate on the magical effects emanating from it.

It was an item of extraordinary power. Just by holding it, I could feel my mental faculties expanding: everything suddenly seemed so clear and simple - as if I could solve any problem with but a moment's consideration. On top of that, the amulet projected an invisible, intangible shell around me; there was a great possibility that any offensive spell sent my way would be caught by this shell before it hit me, its energies transformed harmlessly into magicka that I could then make use of for my own spells. If that was not enough, when the amulet was in contact with my skin, I felt as if any weapon - save for one made of some supernatural material - would barely scratch me.

Needless to say, perhaps, I decided to wear it from that day onwards. Once I had finished my analysis, I glanced sideways at Sirilonwe. She had remained silent since her revelations in the Arena; and she was still staring into the middle-distance, quite pre-occupied.


There was a period of general speech-giving at the end of my initiation, though most of the addresses were vague and garbled. I think that from the point of view of the other members of the guild, everything seemed to be taking place behind a veneer of shock and uncertainty. Ranis was the exception, and her speech was cleverly worded so as to assure everyone present of the legality of my advancement to Arch-Mage; while at the same time making it seem as if that was not the focus of the speech at all. After her conclusion, she added:

"... So Frost: don't forget those who got you there, now." Ranis said, to a round of subdued laughter. Everyone assembled had taken it as a joke - as Ranis had no doubt intended them to - but I caught the deeper meaning behind her words: a message meant for my ears alone.

She wanted to remind me of the (admittedly very generous) aid she had given me when my fragile self had just recently stepped off the prison boat. She thought that I would feel indebted to her. She was, no doubt, looking forward to having the ear of the Arch-Mage of Vvardenfell.

"I have not forgotten, Ranis." I replied, and everyone fell silent. "I will not remove you - or anyone else, for that matter - from your position." There were a number of satisfied nods from the other members. "However, Ranis; the only reason you will continue to be a part of this guild is because of the kindness you showed me when I first joined. If I am truly to be the Arch-Mage, then your behaviour to date, Ranis - the behaviour I witnessed working under you - will not be tolerated. You know of what I speak. If I become aware of any such conduct from you again, I will remove you from the guild." Everyone looked uncomfortable at my emphasis on the word 'remove'. "This will be your only warning." I added.

Ranis' luminous red eyes flared brightly, but she made no reply. There was no need, either: her expression made her displeasure plain to see.


As soon as we possibly could, Sirilonwe and I made our excuses and left the hall, teleporting back to Wolfen castle. In search of some privacy, we proceeded directly to my chambers.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked her, taking her hands in mine.

Sirilonwe swallowed fearfully, but replied:

"Yes."

With a small dagger, I made a cut in my palm, and then in hers, before pressing the wounds together.

I held her hand until it was over.