Early Morning of Middas, 5th of Sun's Dusk. 4E201

As the dragon crumbled to pieces, its bones becoming dust; I opened the gate for my friend and we continued onward. Soon, after letting her heal me despite numerous attempts to remind her that I was fine, we were met with a booming voice speaking to us in what I recognized as the dragon tongue, though I could only make out bits and pieces of what the voice was saying. After heading deeper, it hesitantly switched to speaking in the common language. It spoke of Savos Aren, asking if he had returned to finish what he started. I made no attempt to reply, and my companion seemed utterly bewildered. We travelled even further into the depths, stumbling upon ghostly draugr - their appearance made me worry that my axe would be ineffectual, but thankfully Wuuthrad cut through them like any other being.

As we trudged deeper we finally found the main chamber, and what we saw was a strange sight indeed. Two ghostly wizards were casting a spell on what looked like a high priest to a very dark cult. I realized I had fought one of them before, and they were a formidable foe indeed. That's when I noticed it was holding the staff. I surveyed the area before slowly enroaching one of the wizards, my friend breathing shakily behind me.

The ghostly visage of the mage was a miserable one - it looked as though it had been drained and was left as a husk to contain this cult priest. As I stepped closer, it looked at me with pleading eyes, and I understood what I had to do. I brought my axe down on his neck and he disappeared in an instant, the shield around the high priest weakening. Neither I nor my friend thought it was a good idea to free the priest, but I needed the staff now before the college and - dare I say - Winterhold itself would be destroyed by whatever foul intentions Ancano had. I ended the suffering of the other ghost with another swing, and the high priest broke free.

It immediately started flinging strong magic at us both: ice spikes; fireballs that exploded with strong shockwaves and tremendous heat; it seemed to put every ounce of strength into attempting to kill us. My companion fired arrows and venemously threw magic right back at it as I joined in with my own bow - the two of us brought him closer until he was below the outcropping I was stood on and then I jumped, bringing the axe down violently. He let out a horrid cry as his ragged robes and mask fell into a pile of clothes, his ghostly being dissipating. After letting out a deep breath, I grabbed the mask and staff before turning and leaving to head back to the college.

As I write this, my Khajiit friend told me to come back to bed. Chuckling, I denied her offer. Do not worry, love, because every occasion we had to sleep, it has been apart. I have taken comfort in sleeping under my blanket or on nearby couches, thinking of you as my companion sleeps soundly in beds. I'm running out of space on this scroll again. I think I may be rivalling the Elder Scrolls themselves now in length of my letters.

With much love, Wuulfräd.