InsaneJournal

When he came to the College of Winterhold, he knew he'd be in for a lot of spellcasting, and he was fine with that. He liked magic, and he didn't mind using it, but he was not a mage; he was known for his steel and his armor.

The College had answers to questions he needed answered, but his involvement with the College was, admittedly, a bit self-serving. He was already Harbinger of the Companions and the bloody Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild.

The last few days had been nothing short of a nightmare, but the trouble at the College was taken care of. He didn't want the leadership title for yet another faction, so when that Psijic monk Quaranir addressed the Dragonborn as "Arch-Mage", he recoiled at the notion.

What business did a non-mage like him even have being the damn Arch-Mage? As soon as the monks were gone, Tolfdir barraged him with excitement.

"You've done it! The College is safe again, thanks to your work. I knew you had it in you. I daresay the Psijics are right. There's no one more deserving to be Arch-Mage, in my opinion!"

"Whoa, there. I never said anything about wanting to be Arch-Mage," he interrupted, before Tolfdir got too ahead of himself. "I'm not a mage, Tolfdir. I cast spells, but that doesn't make me a mage."

"My boy, I don't understand. You've done so much for the College," Tolfdir replied, confused. "We'd be ruined if not for your actions."

"For lack of a better phrase, I was "happy" to help. But I never came to the College wanting to rise to the top of the ranks, Tolfdir. My interests in the school were purely casual and out of my own self-interest, that's it. Dragonborn things, among other affairs. And that self-interest sure as day did not include being the Arch-Mage. When I fight something, my first instinct is to draw a sword and cut it down, not throw a fireball at it."

"I see..." Tolfdir replied, scratching at his beard. "Well, who should be the Arch-Mage, if not you?"

"Gods, I don't know... Mirabelle seemed like she'd be good at being the Arch-Mage," he lamented. Mirabelle had sacrificed her life to keep the students safe. "She was so confident and she would have probably handled the authority, well. Savos trusted her. Pick someone that's been helpful, and isn't troll-shit power-crazy like that Thalmor idiot Ancano. That should be easy enough, you have a good group of people here."

"I suppose I can understand that, and I have to agree... Mirabelle would have made an excellent choice," Tolfdir sighed. "I suppose we'll have to figure something out, either way. But, how can we thank you?"

He chewed on the inside of his lip, then pulled a small golden container out of his bag, opening it. Inside, there was a brilliant ornate gemstone. "Do you know what this is, Tolfdir?"

Tolfdir seemed transfixed by the gem for a moment as he examined it. "No... I'm afraid I don't. I've seen another one like it in the Arch-Mage's Quarters, however."

"Precisely. I've seen it, too," Ysmir replied, shutting the small case and stuffing it back into his pack. "It's one of the stones from Queen Barenziah's crown. I've been collecting them."

"You want this stone, I'm assuming?" Tolfdir asked. "I suppose it's not very useful on its own?"

"No. But once I complete the collection of just the stones, that's where my next step begins. Give me that stone, and consider my service to the College paid. I'd never be around enough to even be the Arch-Mage, anyway. My desire for that stone boils down to the very simple fact, I could become very rich."

His reasoning was true, but also a bit of a lie. Some of the stones he'd acquired thus far were stolen from their original "homes", but nobody else knew what they were or the historical importance of them.

Vex had been the one to appraise the first gem he found, and she had reason to believe the crown those gems belonged to was still out there, somewhere. It was something like a pet project of his for the Thieves Guild, like the Eyes of the Falmer had been for Gallus. He wanted those stones and the crown to serve as a paragon of inspiration for the Guild.

Apart, the gems and the crown were worthless.
Together, they were priceless.

"That's it?" Tolfdir asked, his eyebrow raising.

"That's it. I mean, I live a dangerous life, Tolfdir. Tomorrow isn't ever promised, or the next day," he explained. "You know that. But you all should really consider giving the title of Arch-Mage to somebody that... you know, sticks around the College."

"Another fair point. You do travel a lot. I'm so sorry, Dragonborn. I didn't consider how you might have felt."

"I'm flattered, truly," Ysmir apologized. "But it's not for me and not something I want for myself. You should hold a Moot or something, for Arch-Mage. If anybody is interested, they should give a short explanation why they'd be a good candidate, and promise to not blow up the rest of Winterhold."

"I've half a mind to thump you for that one," Tolfdir snorted.

He knew Ysmir was only joking. There wasn't much left of Winterhold because of the Great Collapse, but so many people in what remained of the town were convinced the College was the cause. Ancano's insane attempt to harness the power of the Eye of Magnus had almost been Winterhold's undoing, but things could have been so much worse.

"So, can I have that Stone of Barenziah or what?"

Rolling his eyes, Tolfdir handed Ysmir the key to Savos's room. "Go get your stone, and bring back that key when you're done."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you, old man."