A/N: Alright, so here is Ch1 Redux, which is basically what was the first two chapters, combined, rewritten and, in my opinion, just overall a lot better. Obviously this is going to mess up the chapter numbering until I sort out/rewrite the other chapters, so please bear with me for a little while.

For new people, hi! This was conceived through an inordinate amount of time playing Skyrim yet completing nothing substantial. There will be content warnings at the beginning of chapters as necessary, but please be aware that this is rated M, and all in all, isn't particularly light-hearted. On the occasion that there is violence, there is violence, and on the occasion there is smut, there is smut, and probably also some more violence. Regardless, I hope you enjoy your stay!

Daedric Knowledge

Chapter 1 - Souls, Origins, Routes.

"I wish I could tell Aren where to shove it."

We're at The Frozen Hearth, - myself, Enthir, and Nelacar - entertaining our mutual distaste for the College's restrictions. A once clear table is cluttered with empty plates, bottles, a half eaten wheel of cheese, as well as several soul gem fragments which Enthir was using for a demonstration; all of which are now sitting inactive and forgotten, much like our previous conversation. We've thoroughly crossed over into the sullen side of inebriation. Nelacar is resting his face in his hands, the hood of his robes slipping further and further back to reveal an incredibly receding hairline; a spectacle I'm having quite a bit of difficulty not commenting on. How he manages to have long, lustrous shoulder-length blonde hair, yet nothing on his scalp is all but a mystery. Enthir appears equally amused, but given his own tragic excuse for a mohawk, he might just be jealous.

"When was the last time anyone in the College," Enthir pauses, forcing down a small burp, his speech understandably slower, slurred, "did anything that was even remotely interesting?" He eyes both of us as Haran brings over what's likely to be our fifth, maybe sixth round of drinks. Mead, Honningbrew, and as far as I'm concerned, the only mead worth drinking.

"Arniel seemed to be working on some interesting stuff."

"Yeah, right until he disappeared. Careless, really." The impartial pragmatism is part of why Enthir and I get along so well, as business associates as well as drinking company. He is a welcome change in the face of an institution full of unimaginative, obsequious affiliates.

"Mm, I wouldn't mind meeting someone who wasn't afraid of progress; most of these people don't even want to make money, let alone engage themselves in anything particularly ambitious. What was the last thing one of the apprentices came up with, a refilling potion bottle, or something?" I wouldn't be scoffing if I didn't already know that an Alchemist based in Windhelm is fruitlessly pursuing the thing as we speak, not to mention, Alchemy technically isn't magic; you would think that new College applicants would at least be somewhat versed in their areas of interest, but apparently not.

"That's actually not a bad idea."

"It isn't my idea, and you only want it so that you can drink, without paying." My idea or not, the discussion reinvites several possibilities in my mind; replenishable enchanting materials, possible ways to bypass the requirement of stronger souls, expediting the learning and application of more complicated enchantments. The ideas are, as they have always been, one essential component away from actualisation, and ultimately the source of my unending dissatisfaction.

"Either of you know anything about research on souls? Substitutes used in enchantments, maybe even gems that don't break once the soul's been consumed?" It's a long shot, but if there's any time to get information out of either of them, it's now.

Enthir merely shrugs, but from Nelacar I receive... nothing. Come to think about it, he's been even quieter than usual, ever since we brought up the topic of research. We never spend much time discussing our pasts, though given his silence, we might have been dancing over a raw spot this entire time. The Altmer is practically shut down, golden eyes glazed over, gazing into his tankard. His voice is a whisper; we have to lean in closer in order to hear him clearly.

"I know a way."

I suspect, if we weren't in this exact setting at this exact time, this exchange would have never occurred, and I subsequently would not have set off for Ilinalta's Deep at first sign of daylight.

I am the only child of two talented, if somewhat short-sighted, mages. Father was a Dunmer; shorter and slimmer than most, which explains his career choices and leanings towards the Mysticism and Restoration schools of magic. Mysticism had stopped being considered a valid school of magic at some point during his affiliation with the College of Winterhold, and is likely part of the reason why he left. He spent a great deal of my youth lecturing on how dispel, detect life and soul traps - to name a few - belonged within the Mysticism school, and that treating them otherwise was akin to fighting with a blunt blade, or blocking with a paper shield. He was always a strong believer that mastery over schools of magic were mutually exclusive, and that each spell was edged with well-defined boundaries which prevented the possibility of overlapping effects.

Mother specialised as an enchanter, and possessed an unending fascination with weaponry, despite not being much of a fighter herself. She made full use of her abilities by enchanting weapons and armour for the locals of Dawnstar, as well as her multitude of contacts across Skyrim. Despite being a tiny Breton woman, she managed to intimidate any possible opposition simply by the force of her personality. For her, magic was simply a tool; a bridge which accelerates the progression of practical endeavours. As a result, she never derived any enjoyment from knowledge for the sake of knowledge, nor did she have any opinions on magic as a concept.

My own opinions on magical theory have diverged substantially from both of theirs, and I'm quite glad that they both passed before these differences in ideologies manifested into debate.

Their relationship was, in my opinion, sickeningly, restrictively affectionate. They ran an enchanting business together which, in theory, would involve Father supplying the necessary souls, and Mother using them in her enchantments. In practice, however, they insisted on accompanying each other on their respective adventures, severely hampering their productivity. I suppose they appreciated the company of each other over making coin, or even advancing their abilities, but it's something I never did quite understand. Looking back on it, falling victim, together, to one too many frost trolls on a soul harvesting trip was a suitable end to the both of them.

By the time they did die, I was already skilled and matured enough to take over their business, effectively absorbing all of their contacts and connections, which I have been maintaining and expanding since. On the occasion I tired of remaining in the same place, I would spend some time adventuring through Skyrim. Repetitive, meaningless combat with bandits, wolves, trolls, and other unpleasants only held my interest for a few years, and I was more concerned with self-preservation than seeking out more challenging opponents. Perhaps if it would have been different if I had any substantial experience in using weapons and close-quarters action, but that generally isn't the best position for a waify mage to be in. My decision to join the Mages' College was multiple-fold: to further refine my knowledge, gain exposure to spells optimised for combat, and for additional connections.

My abilities improved exponentially with access to College resources. Initially my focus was rounding out my existing capabilities, keeping my secondary education as unbiased as I possibly could. Transferring what I could cast into enchantments had always been second nature, and thus the additional tutelage augmented the amount, and variety of the enchanting services I could provide. These were, and remain, of course, independent of the College itself; I see little reason to share my hard-earned profits. Having some level of proficiency over most textbook spells was all well and good, but I found their structured approach restrictive and lacking. The years that followed were intense, extensive time and effort invested into developing spells especially for my own use, through the combination of multiple effects, and the manipulation of magicka to fuel them. While there are costs to bending certain rules of magic to my liking, given the gains, no payment is too high.

Unfortunately, my life has felt stagnant since. Financial security is a given, and enchanting has become largely mechanical, no longer providing any real level of gratification. I lack a sense of direction as to where to go from here, nor could I ever allow myself to lounge in complacency. Ultimately this is what makes me so eager to engage myself with something new. If nothing else, attaining Azura's Star should prove to be a suitable, if temporary reprieve.