This is a collaborative fanfic by me and Athell. Enjoy (or don't, it's up to you).
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Prologue - Tolfdir's Letter

My dear friends and accomplices,

I hope this letter reaches all of you, although I fear it might not, especially considering the consistency with which some of you change locations.
I wish I could tell you that all is well; that my duties as Archmage of the College of Winterhold are going well, and that everything has quieted down.
That I am merely sending this letter because I miss all of you, and wish to speak with you again, be it about the metamystical properties of Alteration magic or the historical importance of the old Mage's Guild, or whatever it was we used to speak of, years ago. That I could invite you to join us at Winterhold, and we could unlock the arcane secrets of the Mundus together.
But I am afraid that that is not why I am contacting you.
I am sure that by now you've heard of the recent events that have occurred here in Skyrim; the discovery of that bizarre magical artifact we called the "Eye of Magnus" (primarily because of the immensely strong aura of magic it gave off). And of course you've heard of the young, brave apprentice who stopped the Thalmor from taking it's power for their own, at the cost of his life.
For the next few days, things were quiet in Winterhold. Not much seemed to be going on; the apprentices all seemed sad at the loss of their friend, and nobody seemed to be doing anything of interest; we were all too busy thinking about what had happened. The Psijics had carted off the Eye, probably back to Artaeum for study; they seemed surprised and unnerved at the apprentice's death, even more then we were. Overall, a feeling of melancholy and loss hung over the College.
However, about a week ago, something odd occurred; the Jarl of Whiterun reported that some kind of magical disturbance had occurred within his territory, and a number of ghostly apparitions had attacked a group of local farmers; I immediately began to worry that the apparitions that had attacked the farmers were the same ones that had attacked Winterhold when the Thalmor began tampering with the Eye.
I took a team out to investigate, and my fears were immediately proven right; a huge orb of energy was hovering slightly over the ground, surrounded by the hostile magical anomalies that had attacked us.
It didn't take long to dispatch the anomalies, and we managed to use the Staff of Magnus to close the orb that was creating (or perhaps attracting) them.
However, as the days past, we heard reports of other such ruptures created by the Eye across Tamriel; a contact of mine in the Synod claims that they have contained one in Cyrodiil; rumors are flying that the Thalmor found one in Valenwood. The Dark Elves of Solstheim are working to try and close one in their capital. We have dispatched an agent to Solstheim with the Staff, but I plan to be more cautious with the ruptures in Cyrodiil and Valenwood; the Synod and Thalmor are simply too greedy for their own good, and I fear that they may try to seize the staff if we sent aid.
However, this is not the sole, or even the most worrying, reason why I am writing to you, my dear friends.
The night before last, while I lay in my bed trying to make sense of recent events, I noticed that a cylindrical container had appeared in my room. It was about a foot high, and made of what looked like Dwarven metal. It had a small switch on it's side. Out of curiosity, with my caution inhibited by a lack of sleep, I flipped the switch.
Immediately, resonating, seemingly, from all directions at once, a voice with what sounds vaguely like a Vvardenfell accent began to speak.
I've included a transcript of the words it spoke, it is as good a replica as I could make, some of the words used were unfamiliar to me and I have written those is a standard phonetical style as agreed upon by the Elder Council of the Third era that most of you should recognise. I would however, draw your attention to the line 'If you do not comply, we while have to take matters into our own hands, something which may not benefit you or your civilization.'
Stunned, I flipped the switch again. The same message repeated. I spent most of the next day thoroughly investigating, trying to make sure it wasn't simply a well-intentioned prank (albeit one made in poor taste). I have only begun to write this letter now that I'm sure that was has happened is completely real. I ask that all of you come to Winterhold at once, as I believe that our little College cannot handle a situation of this gravity on our own.
-Tolfdir


Transcript of the audio recording:
"Good evening, Archmage Tolfdir. I am a representative of the Aurbical Mining Guild Ceta-Q, stationed in the Raga Colonies of Western Masser.
Our organization has lost a... Machine, along the lines of... The Dwemer machines that exist in your time? We used it, among many like it, to protect against harmful energies while mining in areas beyond Nirn.
We have spent sixteen cycles searching through Sideways Time, trying to uncover the location of our machine, known as "KINMUNE."
We detected KINMUNE going fully active after spending an unknown period in a low power state. We detected that it had undergone severe damage, especially to it's mental faculty; in simple terms, it had, at some point in it's interactions with the locals or it's time spent in isolation, gone mad. Of course, nothing put in simple terms is perfectly correct, you must understand.
After further tampering at what we assume was your university, KINMUNE took even more damage, and is now leaking energy en mass, doing severe damage to the world. We have since lost it's location completely due to Septimial-interference to our sensors, and have assumed that it is no longer present in your college.
We believe that it is in both our and your best interest that you recover it and return it to your college's "Hall of the Elements" so we may transport it back to our time period. If you do not comply, we while have to take matters into our own hands, something which may not benefit you or your civilization.
Thank you, and the Synth-Anu be with you."

My good friend Tolfdir.

I must commend you on managing to find me with your letter, the courier who carried it seemed incredibly pleased when he found me, I hope you haven't been scaring the poor boy with flashy magiks.

You are not the only one who has missed our long debates on matters verging on numinous, I still uphold that you are very profoundly incorrect in your beliefs about the Dreugh, I have recently found evidence that they were far more advanced than even I had previously thought. After spending some time with the Sload of Thras, who had somehow acquired a tablet that they claim was found resting on the deep seabed, I have concluded that some sort of event caused a great collapse in their society that turned them into the beings that we see today.

News about recent events in the college have been slow in coming to my tower, I must admit that the courier who brought the letter to me carried more information about the situation than I had heard previously. Is it true that the College was forced to turn to a mere apprentice to deal with Ancano and his schemes? If so then surely these are trying times for the establishment.

I have heard of these 'magical disturbances' you speak of. One opened up in the village close to my tower. It has since been dealt with but not without great effort from myself. You are right not to trust either faction, I have recently had visitors from both and the Psijic Order but now at least I know who I can blame for my sudden popularity with the 'organised' houses of magic. Whatever this KINMUNE is it is important enough to warrant a visit from Divayth Fyr himself for me.

You describe the carrying device as a cylindrical container I trust that when the device arrived you did the usual magic-resonance checks? If the identity of the device is as you, and it, say it is then surely it would have left a huge magical signature. Even transporting a small device over a short timescale takes massive amount of energy, generally around 2.21 trels is enough to jump a grain of sand forwards an hour in time.

However, I must say that I have never heard of the Aurbical Mining Guild Ceta-Q, stationed in the Raga Colonies of Western Masser and I could only begin to infer its purpose. It is known that Masser and Secunda have supported viable communities before, I should know I've seen one, but an Aurbical mining guild is a mystery to me.

KINMUNE is a name unfamiliar to me and whatever it is it is clearly of great importance to Aurbical Mining Guild Ceta-Q (who, from now on, I will simply call the guild.) enough for them to expend huge amounts of energy sending an audio device back to the fourth era. The speaker does refer to the 'mental' capacity of Kinmune, this excites me greatly, perhaps it is some sort of semi-sentient Dwemer device?

As for your request, I shall be departing for the college as soon as this letter is sent, I do not expect to beat it to you though as along the way I have several errands and Ayleidic lines of research to pursue. Expect me shortly.

A.Seridur

Dear Tolfdir,

It's good to hear from you, even if you bear grave news. I've been following events at the College closely, and I was sad to hear that the apprentice was killed; he... Or was it a she? Seemed quite promising; I would imagine that if he was still alive, he'd probably have your job.

I kid, but on to more serious matters. One of the guests at the inn we've been living at mentioned being attacked by some kind of strange phantoms which were guarding what he described as "a huge, glowy magical doohickey!" not far from the city of Evermor. I think you can add that to the list of locations these ruptures have popped up.

Kinmune sounds familiar; I think I once read about it in an ancient tome of Nordic myths, although I can't seem to recall any of the details, nor can I remember the name of the book. Of course, if it even remotely resembles Dwemer constructs, then I'd love to examine it. Although if the Thalmor's tampering caused all of these ruptures, perhaps that's not the best idea.
The rest of the message was a mystery to me; I must wonder what kind of long term damage these ruptures are going to do. While they simply grow more and more numerous until they've filled every available inch of space? Are they simply a precursor to something larger and far, far worse? I suppose that only time while tell. And, come to think of it, research.

The Aurbical Mining Guild seems bizarre; from the name, it sounds almost as if they'd mine reality itself, but really, that's just an uneducated guess which doesn't really mean anything. However, the longer I'm alive in this world, the more I begin to think that anything is possible. They do seem suspiciously vague about themselves, don't they? Perhaps the Psijics would know more about them, although the tricky part is getting them to tell us. And by tricky, I mean completely and utterly impossible.
I and my companion were planning on traveling to Cyrodiil, where I was going to study the alien flora and fauna of Niben Bay. However, this seems far more urgent, and after conversing on the subject, we've decided to come to Winterhold.

By the way, did you invite that Seridur fellow? You know, the one who was always going on about the intelligence of Dreugh? I heard that Divayth Fyr payed him a visit; it's probably just a rumor, but I can't help but wonder; I didn't even know that Fyr was still alive, although I suppose that if anybody's going to die, it's least likely of all to be him.
-Istirus

Tofldir

You must excuse my severe lateness in the sending of this letter, we met with some serious troubles passing through Nu-Cyrod. The Thalmor have made travelling through the once-jungled-turned-not-so-much province most tiring.

I did attempt to use the delays to the best of my abilities though, I did a little digging with The Synod and The College of Whispers and let me tell you something, they're all idiots. The only useful piece of information I got from them was a snippet of text found by one of The Synods researchers, he was an old guy and by old I mean he could probably remember the Oblivion Crisis and he had not aged well, he looked practically decrepit (age is relative of course, compared to some of us he was practically a baby.) I'll include the excerpt here for you. It appears to be a transcript of something.

Cap' we've got a [transmission lost] problem. Those damn elves hit the generator, we're bleeding energy into The Void.
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How bad?
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1.21 unit per adjusted second. Our magnusian reserves are draining quicker than we can patch 'er up.
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Lose some weight.
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That's a bit harsh sir and don't you think we've got bigger problems?
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Yes I suppose you're right. What if we dumped the generator out into the [Records lost] straight out of the Void into the possi-space.
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Worth a try I guess Capt', it's that or float here for the rest of the Kalpa. But how will we fly without The Eye?
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[Records destroyed]
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Damn... so close
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[Transmission lost]

I have to admit it makes very little sense to me. However it seems to suggest to me that they were using The Eye of Magnus as some sort of generator.

I am on my way friend and I'm bringing someone else with me, an eminent Scholar on something or other, Andros, he insisted on coming with me, he's an ex-student of mine so I'll vouch for his ability.

Yours A. Seridur (and now Andros Telvanni-Ouada)

Dearest Tolfdir,

It is great to hear from you my friend. It has been to long since the last time we spoke. How long, I wonder. Eons must have passed. (not actual eons, but you’ll know what I mean.) I’m also sorry for making you wait so long for a reply but it has been ... ‘eons’ since I actually stayed more than one week at the same place.

Especially now. I seem to have my hands full on these strange ruptures. They are sure a sight to behold, if you manage to ignore the anomalies that seem to be attracted by them. (Or if you can get them to ignore you.)

Now, travelling around a lot I have heard a lot of different stories surrounding the latest happenings at your college. You are archmage of Winterhold now, aren’t you? Anyway, it wasn’t until your messenger found me, here in Summerset Isle, that I heard the true story. The Thalmor have no idea what they were/are getting themselves into. It was only fortunate your apprentice managed to snatch the eye from under their noses. With the help of the Psijic Order ofcourse.

I have studied these ruptures for the past few months. Have you ever been close to one and opened your mind, your soul to it? The feeling you get is nothing I have ever felt before. Whatever seeps to this ruptures into our world is something more powerful than anything I have ever encountered. When I welcome it, invite it in, it is better than the best refined moon sugar available. The rush of power, godlyhood, it is indescribable. You must experience it yourself to believe it. Sadly enough I have not found a way to use that something tough. Perhaps it is for that the Aurbical Mining Guild Ceta-Q (would you mind me saying Ceta-Q ?) needs Kinmune? Anyway,

it doesn’t only let this energy into the Mundus. But it seems like it can be used as a portal to .. someplace else. I don’t know to where tough. During my studies of these ruptures I have seen many mercenaries, sellswords and sometimes guards walking through it never to be seen again. I wonder what happened to them. When I look straight at it, as close as I dared to get to it, ever since I know of the disappearances, I can only see the landscape or buildings behind it. Do you remember the Oblivion gates during 3E433? It reminds me of those gates, but they don’t go to Oblivion. these are all mysteries to me, and I don’t plan on solving them by stepping through such a rupture.

Now onto that letter. The name KINMUNE sounds familiar to me. Maybe something I have read in an old tome or book. Elvira here says the name somehow reminds her of Saarthal? (She’s my new apprentice, a beauty that is, and at my age.) anyway that is all we have. I’ll search through my books to see if I can find more knowledge on the matter.

And there is that other part of your letter left. Ceta-Q, stationed in the Raga Colonies of Western Masser is even more obscure than Kinmune. They are mining something on the Raga Colonies of Western Masser. Perhaps they found a way to actually colonies Masser, and they called the first colonies Raga as an reference to the Ra’Gada? But what would they be mining on Masser and does they also have a guild on Secunda? I do recall a story of long past times about a mage that levitated all the way to masser. Or was it Secunda? I can’t remember. Perhaps it is best if I seek council from my order.

This brings me to another point. I fear you will have to show a bit more patience for my arrival since I won’t be travelling to skyrim immediately. After reading your letter I have decided it would be better If I instead continue to Artaeum. There are many matters I need answers on, and who is better in providing answers than the Psijic Order. I know some say it is more difficult to get an answer from them than to get a cat in bath out of freewill. But that is only because they advise royal courts or their own students. I will also ask them if they can return the eye to the college. There’s nothing wrong with trying, no?

With kind regards,
C. Lorundil

Their carriage trundled through the tundra of Skyrim. A harsh wind whipped all around the two elves but their magic warmed them. The driver had no such luck.

They reached the edge of Winterhold proper before the nord turned to them and spoke. “This is as far as we’re going. I don’t want to get any closer to that place. Been some dark tidin’s recently.” They’d paid as the boarded at the other end, near Falkreath, so departed with just a courteous nod.

Once they were safely out of earshot Athell spoke for the first time, he had kept quiet for most of their journey well aware of the local feelings towards his own people, “You have the items?”

“Yes sera, everything is ready.”

“Well, we shall just have to hope for the cooperation of our colleagues then.”

“You think they will go along with it?”

“They shall have no choice in the matter.” With that they started their march onwards to the once glorious city now broken and ravaged by the Sea of Ghosts.

“Thalmor bastard,” the shout came from the edge of an inn. The man tottered from his platform down towards Athell, for his part Athell stood impassive. “You think you can take Skyrim? Ha! Skyrim belongs to us Nords,” the man’s speech was surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated.

“Turn around, go back to the inn, I am not your enemy,” Athell’s hands shimmered with the tell-tale glow of an illusion.

“Uhh. Yeah.” The drunk did exactly as instructed.

“It pains me to see what has happened to this place, last time I was here it was still a city, before The Collapse. You won’t remember that will you?”

“No serjo, I have only been here once before, after the collapse.”

“Shame. You can’t have missed it by much, how old are you now?”

“Going on three-hundred, you must be well past that by now yourself?”

“Oh, a long way past, I remember Reman’s victory over the Akaviri. “

“That makes you over one-thousand-eight-hundred.”

“Yes that sounds about right.” Athell glanced at the sun, “anyway, it’s time we were pressing on.” The walked on through the remains of the city, “there should be a guard” he said, nodding at the entrance to the college.

Ignoring the unusual absence of a greeter they followed the thing causeway that led up to the once filled now near vacant College. He ignored the glances and looks of the students and teachers as he crossed the courtyard.

The way to the Arch-Mage’s quarters was familiar and he treaded the old steps a little bounce despite his, very, advanced age. As he reached the top he said one sentence. “As you asked. I have come.”