Breathing Water Content . He walked through the dry , crowded streets of Bal Fell , glad to be among so many strangers . In , he had no such anonymity . There , they knew him to be a smuggler , but here , he could be anyone . A lower - class peddler perhaps . A student even . Some people even pushed against him as he walked past as if to say , " We would not dream of being so rude as to acknowledge that you don ' t belong here . " Seryne Relas was not in any of the tavern s , but he knew she was somewhere , perhaps behind a tenement window or poking around in a dunghill for an exotic ingredient for some spell or another . Of the ways of sorceresses , he knew only that they were always doing something eccentric . Because of this prejudice , he nearly passed by the old Dunmer woman having a drink from a well . It was too prosaic , but he knew from the look of her that she was Seryne Relas , the great sorceress . " I have gold for you , " he said to her back . " If you will teach me the secret of breathing water . " She turned around , a wide wet grin stretched across her weathered features . " I ain ' t breathing it , boy . I ' m just having a drink . " " Don ' t mock me , " he said , stiffly . " Either you ' re Seryne Relas and you will teach me the spell of breathing water , or you aren ' t . Those are the only possibilities . " " If you ' re going to learn to breathe water , you ' re going to have to learn there are more possibilities than that , boy . The School of Alteration is all about possibilities , changing patterns , making things be what they could be . Maybe I ain ' t Seryne Relas , but I can teach you how to breathe water , " she wiped her mouth dry . " Or maybe I am Seryne Relas and I won ' t . Or maybe I can teach you to breathe water , but you can ' t learn . " " I ' ll learn , " he said , simply . " Why don ' t you just buy yourself a spell of water breathing or a potion over at the Mages Guild ? " she asked . " That ' s how it ' s generally done . " " They ' re not powerful enough , " he said . " I need to be underwater for a long time . I ' m willing to pay whatever you ask , but I don ' t want any questions . I was told you could teach me . " " What ' s your name , boy ? " " That ' s a question , " he replied . His name was Tharien Winloth , but in , they called him the Tollman . His job , such as it was , was collecting a percentage of the loot from the smugglers when they came into harbor to bring to his boss in the Camonna Tong . From that percentage , he earned a smaller percentage . In the end it was very small indeed . He had scarcely any gold of his own , and what he had , he gave to Seryne Relas . The lessons began that very day . The sorceress brought her pupil out to a low sandbank along the sea . " I will teach you a powerful spell for breathing water , boy , " she said . " But you must become a master of it . As with all spells and all skills , the more you practice , the better you get . Even that ain ' t enough . To achieve true mastery , you must understand what it is you ' re doing . It ain ' t simply enough to perform a perfect thrust of a blade - - you must also know what you are doing and why . " " That ' s common sense , " said Tharien . " Yes , it is , " said Seryne , closing her eyes . " But the spells of Alteration are all about uncommon sense . The infinite possibilities , breaking the sky , swallowing space , dancing with time , setting ice on fire , believing the unreal may become real . You must learn the rules of the cosmos and break them . " " That sounds . . . very difficult , " replied Tharien , trying to keep a straight face . Seryne pointed to the small silver fish darting along the water ' s edge : " They don ' t find it so . They breathe water just fine . " " But that ' s not magic . " " What I ' m saying to you , boy , is that it is . " For several weeks , Seryne drilled her student , and the more he understood about what he was doing and the more he practiced , the longer he could breathe underwater . When he found that he could cast the spell for as long as he needed , he thanked the sorceress and bade her farewell . " There is one last lesson I have to teach you , " she said . " You must learn that desire is not enough . The world will end your spell no matter how good you are , and no matter how much you want it . " " That ' s a lesson I ' m happy not to learn , " he said , and left at once for the short journey . The wharfs ( sic ) were much the same , with all the same smells , the same sounds , and the same characters . He learned from his mates that the Boss found a new Tollman . They were still looking out for the smuggler ship Morodrung , but they had given up hope of ever seeing it . Tharien knew they would not . He saw it sink in the bay weeks ago . On a moonless night , he cast his spell and dove into the thrashing purple waves . He kept his mind on the world of possibilities , that books could sing , that green was blue , that that water was air , that every stroke and kick brought him closer to a sunken ship filled with treasure . He felt magicka surge all around him as he pushed his way deeper down . Ahead he saw a ghostly shadow of the Morodrung , its mast billowing in a wind of deep - water currents . He also felt his spell begin to fade . He could break reality long enough to breathe water all the way back up to the surface , but not enough to reach the ship . The next night , he dove again , and this time , the spell was stronger . He could see the vessel in detail , clouded over and dusted in sediment . He saw the wound in its hull where it struck the rocks . A glint of gold beckoned from within . But he felt reality closing in , and he had to surface . The third night , he made it into the steerage , past the bloated corpses of the sailors , nibbled and picked apart by fish . Their glassy eyes bulging , their mouths stretched open . Had they only known the spell , he thought briefly , but his mind was more occupied by the gold scattered along the floor that spilled from broken chests and sacks . He considered scooping as much he could carry into his pockets , but a sturdy iron box seemed to bespeak more treasures . On the wall was a row of keys . He took each down and tried it on the locked box , but none opened it . One key , however , was missing . Tharien looked around the room . Where could it be ? His eyes went to the corpse of one of the sailors , floating in a dance of death not far from the box , his hands tightly clutching something . It was a key . When the ship had begun to sink , this sailor had evidently gone for the iron box . Whatever was in it had to be very valuable . Tharien took the sailor ' s key and opened the box . It was filled with broken glass . He rummaged around until he felt something solid , and pulled out two flasks of some kind of wine . He smiled as he considered the foolishness of the poor alcoholic . This was what was important to the sailor , out of all the treasure in the Morodrung . Then , suddenly , Tharien Winloth felt reality . He had not been paying attention to the grim , tireless advance of the world on his spell . It was fading away , his ability to breathe water . There was no time to surface . There was no time to do anything . As he sucked in , his lungs filled with cold , briney water . A few days later , the smugglers working on the wharf came upon the drowned body of the former Tollman . Finding a body in the water in was not in itself noteworthy , but the subject that they discussed over many bottles of flin was how it could happen that he drowned with two potions of water breathing in his hands ?