Everything seemed to go back to normal afterwards. Magic was still practiced, mages roamed the stone halls, and it seemed as though the events surrounding Ancano and the Eye of Magnus had never happened.

A few things were different, of course. J'Zargo was now the arch mage, and couldn't be happier with the respect he garnered, and could be seen strutting along the corridors, dressed in fancy robes. But the events of the past month had changed him. He was more serious, less arrogant, and despite occasionally taking advantage of the benefits bestowed upon him for being grand mage, was surprisingly humble about it all.

Kyra thought she was the only person to see the far more subtle changes. There was a permanent feeling of wrongness that hung in the college, concentrated in the hall of the elements where the eye of Magnus had hung. It clung to the air with slick fingers, tainting everything with a film of oil. No one else felt it, laughing even as it choked Kyra, stealing the breath from her lungs.

They didn't seem to notice the deception as they skillfully avoided talking about Ancano, plastering the past with fake smiles and nervous laughter. Kyra didn't talk about it either. But that didn't mean she didn't feel the weight of lying.

But of course, this wasn't the only thing she was lying about. Her…reliance on Summoning was getting worse, sapping energy and life from her limbs. The times between Summoning were spent sprawled on her bed, limbs askew as fuzziness invaded her head. People occasionally knocked on her door, but she didn't have the energy to reply and they eventually left her to her seclusion.

Kruuyal was the only one who kept her company in these lows. After the events of Ancano, he refused to talk to her when she Summoned him, instead trying to keep as far away from her as possible. But gradually, the tension between them faded and they started talking again. And despite his refusal to talk more about why he came to save her, he seemed to understand what she needed better than anyone, and their conversations were a bright flicker in her days of darkness.

She spent most of her time outside now, beyond view of the college, Kruuyal continuing to keep her company in the snow. Kruuyal didn't say anything - not that she'd ever expect him to admit it - but she could tell he enjoyed the conversations.

Yet he seemed to have changed too. Although he urged her to stop being so reliant on Summoning with increasing intensity, he no longer tried to persuade her to become stronger through the acceptance of her dragon soul. She assumed his silence on the matter was because she'd found a tentative balance between her human side and her dragon side.

In fact, it seemed everyone was changing, progressing in their lives, looking for the next opportunity. Everyone aside from her. She was stuck in stasis, floating from one day to the next with no vision of the future. She was a ghost drifting along the corridors, watching as people's lives played out, but unable to continue hers.

When the conversations between her and Kruuyal naturally lulled into silence, her mind turned more and more often to Alaedra. Had she made a mistake by driving Alaedra away? Was Alaedra really safer away from her? Could she forgive everything that had been said?

She still didn't know.

So she Summoned instead.

When Phinis called her to his office a week later, she assumed it was about starting their lessons again. There were still so many Summons she hadn't managed to successfully complete, like a golden saint or winged twilight.

But when she knocked cautiously on the door to his office and entered, he greeted her with an uncharacteristic solemn silence. She hovered by the door, waiting for him to say something.

When he finally spoke, she could hear the weariness and trepidation in his tone. "Take a seat, Kyra."

With slow steps, she did as he said, and waited for him to continue. She twisted her hands in her laps, making sure her gloves were covering the black tendrils on her hands and lower arms, and kept her gaze on the floor.

"Do you know why I've called you here?"

She shook her head, but he seemed to want a verbal answer. "To continue our lessons?" she said hopefully, but the tension that hung around the conversation indicated a different topic.

Phinis sighed and shook his head. "No. There's something I need to talk to you about. I feel…bad for not noticing sooner. The task down in the Midden occupied much of my time, and then with Ancano, I just didn't have time to consider anything else apart from keeping the college safe."

"Okay," Kyra said slowly, starting to realise where this conversation was going, but dreading it all the same.

"It was arch mage J'Zargo that informed me, actually. I had a growing suspicion, but I hadn't seen you properly in so long." He trailed off.

She waited, gritting her teeth.

"Kyra…look at me."

She tensed. If she looked at him, he would notice the gold ring around her pupils. It would be the last piece of evidence he needed to see that she was addict-reliant on Summoning. She couldn't let Phinis see. She couldn't. She couldn-

Kyra looked up.

He seemed to grow older before her eyes, shrinking in his chair. "Kyra…" he breathed, his hand falling limply on his desk. "What have you done to yourself?"

She looked away first, glancing back at the floor. This was a mistake. She never should have come to his office. "I'm sorry," she muttered, but she didn't know who she was apologising to.

"Don't," Phinis said quietly. "It should me apologising to you. I should have realised, I should have taken action sooner. It was my responsibility as a teacher."

Kyra shook her head. "It wouldn't have made any difference."

"I should have tried. But instead, you're addicted. No, don't protest. You are addicted, Kyra."

"No. I'm not. I'm not addicted…I'm not addicted…I…I…" Her mind looped. The same thought scuttled around her head, echoing and rebounding and reverberating. I'm not addicted.

She could feel her breath speed up. Not enough air.

Addicted.

Kyra heard Phinis asking if she was okay, but it seemed to come from very far away, muffled as though covered by a film of oil. Everything was spinning, faster and faster, and she couldn't hold onto anything. It slipped away between her fingers.

Addicted.

She turned away, towards the door, and stumbled through it, her mind tumbling.

Phinis called out to her, but she ignored it, starting to run through the corridor. Her feet trembled as they came into contact with the ground, her footfalls echoing her thumping heart. Blood pulsed through her veins, thick and heavy and sluggish.

Addicted.

She rounded a corner, motivated by some unknown force that pressed her onwards, just as someone stepped in front of her. Unable to stop, she collided with them, sending them both sprawling. Loose papers floated to the floor.

Kyra groaned from her position on the cold floor, her body starting to catch up with her sudden flight.

"Watch it!" The person she had crashed into was slowly getting to his feet. "Are you blind?"

Her mind was still whirling. "I'm sorry," she said, stumbling over her words. "I didn't mean to." Her muscles thrummed and trembled with unreleased energy. She felt the walls start to close in on her again, felt the air become thick and stifling, felt the arms start itching with an oh-so familiar sensation.

"You're…that girl." The breton - she'd seen him a few times in the halls and knew he was a student of alteration - looked at her. He was young, only a teenager.

"What?"

"The only Summoner student in the college. A lot of people have been talking."

Kyra bristled. "And what have people been saying?" she asked sharply.

Something in her tone, or the look on her face, must have set warning bells ringing, because he paled, and back-tracked suddenly. "Nothing! Nothing, really. Just idle gossip."

She stalked forwards, smiling faintly as he took an uncertain step back. The restless energy that skittered in her veins was sharp and focused now. "And do you believe what they say, hmm?"

"N-no! Of course not. You aren't addicted. Anyone can see that."

Kyra shook her head slowly and smirked. "But I am. I am addicted, and right now, you are standing between me and my chance to Summon." Ice was starting to crystalise inside her, and she welcomed the familiar feeling as it crept along her veins and froze the roiling storm of emotions.

He stood uncertainly, mouth opening and closing as he searched for something to say.

Losing her patience, she thrust her hand out in front of her and reached by Oblivion. As the purple abyss appeared and Kruuyal stepped out, she could see the apprehension turn to fear on the breton's face.

"B-but you can't summon here. Not without permission!"

"Who said I cared about the rules anymore?" It was a liberating feeling, really, not being tied down by rules or self-righteous morals. Kruuyal unsheathed his sword with a soft hiss and the breton paled even further, swaying on his feet.

Kyra took a step forward, gently took his shoulder, and slowly started to apply pressure, ignoring his grimace of pain. She leaned forwards, so her lips were by his ear. "Next time, move out of my way quicker," she said softly, her voice like silk and steel.

"Kyra!" The shout startled her, and she stepped back. The expression on Tolfdir's usually benign face was wrought with fury. "Let that student go and banish your dremora." She hesitated. "Now!"

Reluctantly, she flicked her wrist to banish Kruuyal, and turned cool eyes on Tolfdir, barely noticing when the breton mumbled a hurried apology and scrambled away from her.

"It was just a little disagreement," she said smoothly, the lie falling easily from her lips. "Nothing was meant by it."

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Tolfdir asked. "I saw what was happening! You were threatening him."

"No I wasn't," Kyra said. "I…" And the full enormity of what she'd done sunk in. She felt her knees go weak, and she sagged against the wall for support, suddenly cold.

She'd threatened a defenceless student for no reason, other than he stood still for a second too long. Kyra could have hurt him, if Tolfdir hadn't come. And the worse part was that she hadn't been in control. She'd been a passenger in her body, watching her instincts and pride dictate her actions.

"Do you understand now?" Tolfdir asked, his tone slightly quieter, but no less stern. "Do you understand how this addiction is making you act?"

I'm not addicted. The words were on her lips but they wouldn't form. She couldn't make herself speak them. Because she knew she was, but saying it as a threat, and admitting her weakness were two entirely different things.

"I'm not a fool. I've seen a few cases of addiction to Summoning across my years, and none have ever been so violent as you. I know this is something to do with you being…dragonborn as well. You need to spend some time away from here," Tolfdir said. At first, she didn't understand what he meant. Then it clicked.

"You're expelling me?" she asked. Her stomach contracted.

"Not quite. Merely an indefinite suspension of your rights as a student."He twisted his hands.

"So an expulsion."

Tolfdir sighed. "You've violated several of the most important rules of the college. Your blatant disregard to make any lasting connection with another student, aside from J'Zargo and perhaps Brelyna, has been noticeable since you first arrived. And your addiction makes you dangerous to other students, as well as teachers. Even if you are dragonborn - especially because you're dragonborn - you need to be held accountable for your actions."

"So that's it then? All of this, and for nothing? You'll just cast me out?" Kyra ran a shaking hand through her hair.

"We have to. J'Zargo won't do anything about it, because you're his friend. The deputy arch mage - me - can make an executive decision in cases such as these." Tolfdir said all this very quickly, without pausing for a breath.

She breathed out a laugh, incredulous.

"But I cannot, in good conscience, simply leave you to deal with your addiction alone. We can help you here. There are potions and spells that can help with the withdrawal symptoms. There are treatments available to lessen the hold this has on you. Please Kyra, accept our help."

Kyra shook her head without really thinking about it. She couldn't accept help from anyone else. She needed to be strong.

Tolfdir sighed, but looked as though he had expected it. "So this is my order then. Leave the college premises by nightfall, or you'll have to forcibly be removed. It's easier for everyone involved if it doesn't come to that."

Kyra opened her mouth to argue, to rant and rail against the unfairness of it, but something stopped her. There was a physical block in her mouth and she couldn't get the words out, couldn't let them escape.

So she walked away from Phinis without saying anything, trembling with indignation and anger. But as she reached her room, it faded and her emotions became watered down and distant. She just focused on what needed to be done.

There was little for her to pack. It took her all of ten minutes, and when she stood back at the end, her room looked just as bare as it always had.

Kyra considered saying goodbye to someone - J'Zargo, Phinis, Brelyna. They'd all looked out for her in their own way, and even if she didn't show it, she was grateful for them. But she'd always hated goodbyes.

Instead, she cast a featherlight spell on her bag, using an enchanted amulet J'Zargo had given her several months ago, and set out through the doors.

Twilight was falling as she left the college, casting a dark veil over the bleak snowscape, and she was reminded of her long nights stood out here, too numerous to count, Summoning to the stars with only Kruuyal to keep her company.

As if she'd thought about it too much, her arms started itching, her skin crawling. She smiled, somehow grateful for such a familiar sensation. She reached for the humming threads, and sought the one that connected to her Familiar. She would have Summoned Kruuyal, but her wolf was remarkably skilled at navigating the treacherous ice.

She pulled her wolf from Oblivion to Mundus, and the itching lessened as he appeared in front of her, his ghostly form faintly glowing. She'd hoped that one Summon would be enough to stop the itching, but it was still there, making her grimace in discomfort.

She Banished him, and then Summoned a fire atronach and storm atronach in quick succession, gasping as the waves of pleasure rolled over her.

But it still wasn't enough.

Something was different this time. The discomfort had faded, but she still needed to Summon, she needed to feel that pleasure again. A distant section of her mind knew she should resist the urge, but it was easily ignored, and instead, she raised her hand and reached for the void.

She Summoned Kruuyal, but before he could say anything, she Summoned a storm atronach. Then her Familiar again. Ice atronach.

Fire atronach.

Storm.

Kruuyal opened his mouth, his face creased in worry.

Familiar.

Fire.

Ice.

Kruuyal took a step towards her, hand outstretched.

Storm.

Once she started, she couldn't stop. She was half-aware of her feet moving, stumbling around in circles as her creations appeared for a second in front of her, before being replaced by the next. She was hot and cold, trembling and sweating, restless energy twitching in her blood. Her eyes burned.

And then she was lying in the snow, melted snow trickling down her face like tears. She couldn't find the energy to wipe them away, but was somehow able to raise her hand and Summon her Familiar. Hazy with pleasure and exhaustion, she barely noticed when the black tendrils spread further up her arms, the last pale tints of grey turning black.

Someone shouted something in the distance.

Darkness hovered at the edge of her vision. She welcomed it, feeling her body become numb and her Familiar fade away as she lost control.

And as she finally closed her eyes, she thought she saw Alaedra running towards her, eyes filled with worry and Kyra's name upon her lips.

But it was just an illusion.

The first thing she was aware of was rough sheets against her skin. They scratched and itched and she groaned in discomfort.

And then she became aware of the pounding in her head, each pulse sending a spike of pain through her mind. Kyra clenched her fists, trying to ignore the pain, but her muscles felt strange. Slow to react. Sluggish.

She tried to sink back into sleep, but a quiet beeping from somewhere in the distance kept her awake.

She opened her eyes a crack. Harsh light attacked them but she ignored it, looking around wildly. Her eyesight was blurry, lines indistinct, but she could tell she was in a large hall, lines of beds stretching out either side of her. She was in one such bed, the covers rumpled and twisted beneath her as if she had been tossing in her sleep.

Where was she?

Panic began to rise in her and she felt her breath sped up, rasping in her throat. Her mind was fuzzy, indistinct, and as she tried to grasp onto a though, it fluttered away from her. She struggled to sit up, muscles weak, still looking around, even as the room started to spin.

She groaned, heart fluttering, and kneaded the palms of her hand into her eyes, making colours burst and whirl behind her eyelids. The beeping was growing more insistent and invasive.

Something crashed in the distance.

Kyra hurriedly threw herself down, trying to calm her trembling breath, and arranged her limbs in such a way that she hoped she would be taken for asleep if someone came in.

Her thoughts were still indistinct, existing on their own, disconnected from each other, but she maintained enough presence of mind to realise that she needed to know where she was and why she was here.

There was another crash. The sound of a door opening. Then, footsteps, nearing her. Voices.

"She shouldn't have woken up this this early." A male's voice. Sounds of agreement echoed him, tinged with professional concern.

"We need to alter the treatment to account for the extraneous variables. The.." The voice continued but she didn't understand what they were saying. It was a strong of nonsensical words, drawn-out and complicated. Should she understand? What was-

"Can she hear us?"

Kyra stiffened, drawing in a shocked breath as everything else fled her mind.

The voice was achingly, hauntingly familiar. She knew it as well as she knew her own, could hear the faintly drawn out r's, could hear the measured softness.

The voice meant pain and pleasure, it was tragedy…and trust. Bittersweetness swirled in her stomach, eddied in her mind, as a face to match the voice appeared in her mind's eye.

Kyra's eyes shot open. She frantically sought out the owner of the voice, ignoring the people who crowded around her bed, dressed in their pristine, white robes, ignoring their murmurs of shock and attempts to make her relax.

Her gaze alighted on a figure standing just a few metres away from her. Finely sculpted features, chestnut hair tumbling down her back in loose waves, and beautiful grey eyes that were looking at her, seeing her. They were wide with shock and panic.

Alaedra.

She opened her mouth.

And then the memories slammed into her like a physical force, leaving her reeling and gasping for air. They overwhelmed her, leaving her drowning in the past, but they were disjointed, they didn't make sense. Were these memories hers? Why could she see so many dead bodies, their faces turned towards the sky? And why was her silhouette reflected in their glassy eyes, hands dripping with blood and teeth bared in a primal smile?

Why-why-why-

Her arms started itching, her skin squirming as though bugs were crawling through her veins. Her muscles were trembling, spasming. Why were her arms stinging? What was happening?

Why-why-why-why-why-

Alaedra's voice was floating in and out of hearing. She tried to focus on it, to ground her in reality, but all she could hear was someone muttering, each word slurred into the next in a river of motion and sound.

Why-why-why-why-why-why-why

Her arms were still stinging, the sensation spreading through her body, the pounding in her head a second heartbeat. She couldn't control her body, even when her back arched off the bed, each muscles trembling and straining with exertion, but she was barely aware of it. She was lost in her own mind.

Why-why-why-why-why-why-whywhywhywhywhy

She went limp, exhaustion washing over her, a thick, grey wave. Fire coated her veins and she tried to shout, to scream, but she couldn't move, she couldn't think.

Darkness crept closer. With a sigh, she let it take her.