Tolfdir rubbed his beard. “That is…quite the story.”

 

Aithne sighed and lifted her feet up to the chair seat so she could hug her knees, now wrapped in the familiar feel of a College robe. With the adrenaline of her encounter with Borkul drained away, she felt empty and tired, and full of regrets about her brazen self-introduction to the College. A more subtle approach would probably have been better.

 

Too late.

 

“I know it is difficult to believe. I assure you it is all true.” Aithne hoped they would just assume she had been a regular student at the previous incarnation of the college – she had not gone into exactly how she had arrived there, nor her previous social standing.

 

Fortunately, there were plenty of larger issues for them to discuss.

 

Mirabelle shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin with the questions. There haven’t been dragons in Tamriel for centuries, so how could they destroy the world?”

 

“They came back. I never learned how – I just know they did.”

 

“I guess we’ll be able to begin to judge the truth of these…stories if they come back again.” Faralda tapped a finger on the table – at each tap, a tiny spark flashed. “Do you know when or where they first began to show up?”

 

Aithne shook her head, mentally scolding herself for not prying more information from Delphine when she had the chance. “I’m sorry, I don’t know that, either.”

 

Tolfdir sighed. “Well, as Professor Awtesse intimated, we’ll soon know the truth about that claim. If dragons do begin to appear again, it will lend authenticity to the rest of your story as well.”

 

Aithne blinked. She had always heard Faralda called “Faralda.” Not even “Professor Faralda,” just “Faralda.” It somehow hadn’t occurred to Aithne that the fiery mage had a last name. Of course, they had never really talked. But still…

 

“Now, about your other claim…” Mirabelle paused, then spoke carefully, as if she feared she was approaching a delicate subject. “We already have an Archmage.”

 

“Yes, about him – where is dear old Savos?”

 

Tolfdir looked mildly offended. “Erm…Archmage Aren is in Solitude right now. He should be back in a few days.”

 

“Lovely. I can’t wait to have a little chat with him.”

 

Mirabelle’s voice turned dry. “I’m sure he’ll be excited to speak with you as well.” She steepled her fingers. “Do you intend to challenge for his position?”

 

Aithne raised her eyebrows. “Is that even something that can be done?”

 

Mirabelle shrugged. “Not normally. But if we are able to determine with some certainty that the things you have said are true, it could be viewed in some eyes as your right to stake a claim to the position. I can honestly say that I’m not certain what all that would entail.”

 

Aithne eyed the group, trying to get some feel for what they might be thinking. And then, to her vast surprise, she realized she knew exactly what that was.

 

Mirabelle: ^tinge of hope^ Maybe we can finally be rid of Aren. ^tinge of resentment^ Though I deserve to be Archmage, not some delusional stranger. ^tinge of fear^ She might be even worse than him.

 

Tolfdir: ^strong sanctimonious fervor^ I don’t know what Mirabelle is thinking. We can’t just replace Archmages willy-nilly. It would be unseemly and most improper.

 

Faralda: ^absolute derision^ This is a bunch of crap. She must have snuck in – there’s no way she would be able to teleport through our wards. This bitch was probably sent by the Synod. We shouldn’t even be entertaining her lies.

 

Urag: ^strong fear mixed with wonder^ We were married? How could that have happened? I can’t see a situation where I would marry anyone, let alone a tiny human. I would probably kill her if we had sex. ^very strong lust^

 

Aithne clenched her knees as a gasp escaped her as Urag’s lust seemed to become her own and rolled through her body. She blinked as it receded, only to find everyone staring at her, their thoughts once more their own.

 

Tolfdir cleared his throat. “It sounds like you have had quite an ordeal. Why don’t we stop for now? I’m certain we all have much to think about. In the meantime, you may stay in one of our guest suites, unless someone objects? No? Well, then, that is settled.”

 

There was a general rumble of assent as the others rose from their chairs. Aithne longed to go to Urag, to talk with him in private, but he didn’t pause for even a moment – without looking at her, he made the motions to teleport and blinked out of the room. Which meant he was truly upset – he always preferred to travel through the college on foot unless something pressing forced him to do otherwise.

 

Aithne sighed. It was just as well – she didn’t think she had the energy to talk anymore today, anyway. All she wanted to do was take a long nap. Which made her next encounter, with the person who seemed to have been waiting outside the door of the conference room for just this moment, all the more horrifying. She froze in place when she saw him approaching and couldn’t stop a low groan from escaping her throat.

 

When he stopped in front of her, she said only, “Merks.”

 

He looked…well, it was hard to say. Confused. Surprised. A little dazed, perhaps. He took a deep breath and said in a shaky voice, “You…you know my name.”

 

Aithne sighed. “Believe me when I say, of all the names I shall ever hear in my life, yours is very close to the last I could possibly forget.” She somehow felt the burst of pride that began to well up in him, so she popped that bubble before it could inflate. “That’s not a good thing.”

 

He deflated in an instant. “I…” A pause as he flushed, then, all at once, in a move as sudden as it was unexpected, Merks dropped to both knees in front of her. “My…lady. I…I’ve never met you, but I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.”

 

Aithne closed her eyes. “I’m too tired for this. What are you talking about, Merks?”

 

“I…I don’t know how to explain it. My earliest memories were of you. I knew we were destined to meet. Someday. And I…” He stopped, swallowed as his face reddened. Then he bowed his head to the ground and said something more.

 

“Merks, I can’t hear you when your face is on the floor.”

 

The head popped back up. “I apologize, my lady! I…I was just saying, I’ve known all my life that my duty – my entire reason for living – was to find you and serve you. One day.”

 

Aithne cursed inwardly. Of all the people to remember the previous life, it had to be him? Why couldn’t it have been Urag? “Merks, do you remember me? Our previous life? The dragons and the sl…” She stopped herself before the word “slavery” could slip out. Better not to bring that up if he didn’t remember.

 

“Dragons? No, my lady. I’ve never met you before today. In person. But I’ve seen you in my visions and dreams all my life!” His voice picked up pace as he began to warm to his subject. “I went to the temples, you see, when I was young. I told them about my visions of you and they told me the visions were from something…I couldn’t really understand it all. They explained it was like I was reincarnated. And that previous me made a vow to the gods that I would serve you forever. So now I am bound to you. Eternally.” He breathed out a long sigh and once again, Aithne heard someone’s unbidden thoughts.

 

Merks: They said I was crazy but I was right! She was real! And as beautiful as my dreams told me. Maybe she will come to see me as more than a servant and we can…

 

Aithne shook her head to clear it before that thought could finish. You will never touch me again, you fucking bastard!

 

Merks’ eyes widened and he seemed to jump a bit but he said nothing else and, after a moment of tense silence, Aithne let out a breath. She had not thought it possible to dislike Merks more than during his brash nemesis days, but this pathetic obsequious one was challenging that notion.

 

“What, exactly, do you mean by ‘serve’ me?”

 

“Um…I…don’t know. I mean, obviously I’ll defend you from…anyone who might want to attack you. For some reason. I’m strong with magic!”

 

Aithne sighed. “I know you are, but that’s not what I need right now. If you are going to insist on this serving thing, then go to the Arcaneum and get me…wait, I’ll write them down.”

 

She led the way to the guest area, let herself into the first unused room they came across, then plopped down at the desk, pulled out parchment and a pen, and made a list of books.

 

“Here. Go to the Arcaneum and get these books for me. Then get back to your own studies. I don’t know what you think this will be like, but you’re not living with me, nor are you going to be spending all your time with me. You need to continue to live your life, not pause it to be an extension of mine.”

 

“But I must…”

 

“You must do what I say. That’s what servants do, right? Now get going.”

 

He did, though clearly flustered, and, after the door closed behind him, Aithne collapsed on the bed and rubbed her face.

 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected – well, of course, she had acted more out of instinct than expectation in the first place – but whatever she might have expected, this wasn’t it.

 

 

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