Scaling the Range

"Give me one reason to not break you in half, elf."

"Hm, first would be my immaterial status but you may test it if you wish... I would like the chance, however, to discuss something of dire importance." the Monk takes a seat on the icy ground with his legs dangling off of the steep path. "A new threat presents itself to the world, one potentially more dangerous than Alduin, or the other enemies you should have faced."

"Should have?" Surtr grouses, "Drop the riddles and speak plainly."

The elf sighs, "I am a representative of the Psijic Order, I'm sure you've heard rumours of us from many parties, by we consider ourselves Shepards of the world, helping it through one age to another. This time was supposed to be a big step forward, but, something changed..."

Surtr snorts at this, "You mean you lost control. Arrogant racists, calling yourselves the Shepards means you see the rest of us as sheep. I want no part in whatever scheme you've conjured up. Leave me be and pray we don't meet-"

"Michael Tahlin. The threat we foresee." the elf cuts him off, the name quickly quieting Surtr. "He is powerful, resourceful, and lacks any morality or authority that would otherwise keep him in check. You might know of another who also possessed these qualities, a man known as Mannimarco, the King of Worms and most powerful Necromancer this world had ever seen."

"The one who brought Molag Bal to Tamriel?" Surtr questions, somewhat remembering part of this from his time in the Fighter's Guild.

The elf nods, "Indeed, but what most tend to forget, intentionally or not, is that Mannimarco ascended, leaving us with an ever-present enemy that threatens us still..."

Surtr folds his arms, "Or he would, if Michael's tower wasn't blocking him from affecting the realm." he states.

Strangely, the elf nods in agreement as if he'd not called Michael a threat a moment ago. "You are correct, but, did you know that his barrier has also been affecting the more benevolent deities? All but Akatosh have found their reach largely reduced... The Psijic Order has the ability to glimpse into the future, and what we saw requires Aedra, Daedra, and the strife that comes with them. They will be needed to harden Tamriel to face the coming trials."

"And so you want Michael gone?" he shakes his head, "You speak as though he doesn't belong to this world as you and I."

"That's because he doesn't. He's a foreigner from outside of this realm, further even from the realms of Oblivion. His presence has already changed your future, you may never reach your full potential with it..."

"His rescuing me from bandits harmed me you say? Yeah, I can see it, I would be far stronger with my throat slit and gold stolen. Your arguments fail, elf, now release this spell so I can be on my way."

"Much of your destiny was changed, Dragonborn... Battles, decisions, opportunities... Surely you can think of an opportunity missed due to Michael Tahlin's presence..." the elf trials off, letting Surtr contemplate his words.

Immediately, his thoughts dart to Saeko, who was completely dismissive of him because of her affection towards Michael... Would things have been different there without Michael in the picture?... It would, he was sure. "It's in the past now, there's nothing to be done about it."

"The past affects the future, your future will be your past, if you will it, things can change... You are Dragonborn, harbinger of a new age, it is your choice how things will progress." the elf ominously states before standing up and brushing non-existent dust from his ephemeral person. "I will leave you to ruminate on our discussion. Just remember, Michael, whether or not he wishes it, will harm everyone and everything in future, just as he unintentionally harmed your own opportunities. Farewell for now, Dragonborn." he says and fades away, leaving the world to return to normal.

...

Surtr glares at the icy floor in thought, gripping the Dwemer orb in consternation. "Damn elf!" he punches the cave wall, sending web-like cracks throughout from the force of his strike. He lets his breathing and emotions settle, looking up at the exit. "Talos guide me..."

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"So, you met him then?" Michael asks Surtr at the door of the Spire. The Dragonborn shakes his head though.

"Meeting is not the word. I found his frozen corpse in the cave, dead of starvation."

"Huh..." Michael hums in thought, was it because the College collapsed or because Hermaeus Mora stopped answering him...? "You got the orb though, right?"

Surtr nods, "Aye," he shows it, "What now?"

"We go to Blackreach and acquire the Elder Scroll, I've been there before but Falmer breed like rats so it's probably infested again." Michael states as he begins stepping out of his tower, only to be stopped by Surtr.

"Actually... I was thinking of doing this alone..." he trails off, unable to give any particular reason.

Michael just shrugs in response, "Alright? I don't really care either way."

Surtr nods, "Thank you for your help, Michael." he says before exiting, leaving Michael standing there with an odd expression.

"Weird guy..."

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A week and a half later and Surtr finally climbs back up the Throat of the World with the Elder Scroll in hand. "If I have to walk up this gods-damned mountain another time!" he grunts as Paarthurnax, Durnehviir, and Illococoo come into view.

"Hmm, Dovahkiin, you have returned, and with the Elder Scroll no less."

"Aye! Now tell me what else I need to do to learn the shout!" he exclaims, thoroughly annoyed at the efforts he'd had to take to learn this simple thing.

"Hmmmph, stand there, where the Scroll was once used, open it and send your mind to the past." Paarthurnax states, spitting a breath that uplifts some snow at the exact spot the heroes once stood.