Battlemage
Chapter 1- a letter from home
Zofie,
It's good to hear my little snowberry will be coming home soon. I have missed your laugh, it's so much like your mothers, not to mention that sword arm of yours, clearly a gift from your father. It seems so long since I last saw you, then again 15 years is a long time to be gone from your uncles care isn't it? I wonder do you still know how to use a sword lass? After all that time at the collage only using magic to get by? I still find it funny that the daughter of a former shield-brother would possess such magical abilities, mind I don't know how the others will react to it being used in the hall so you might have to save your powers for when you have your own house. Alea misses you greatly lass, I understand you don't write to her as often as you used too so maybe when you get here you two can go on a hunting trip or something, I know it would mean a lot to her. So much has changed in Whiterun since you left and there are so many new things I wish to tell you, but that can wait until you arrive cant it lass?
Your Favorite Uncle,
Skjor
She had received that letter precisely three weeks ago, two weeks after she had finally gotten out of that collage. Don't get her wrong she loved learning but she wasn't particularly a fan of the company. The other three students in her class had never liked her, she expected either because of her unusual talents with destruction and conjuration spells or her abilities with a blade. To answer her uncle's question yes she did still know how to use a sword. Did he really expect her to forget? Their bitterness towards her however had led to the once outgoing and charming girl to become cold and reserved, enjoying mainly her own company.
It had taken 15 years to finish all of her training in the collage and during that time she had read every book (including the off limits ones in the library), she had been into every room (including the ones that were locked) and she knew the names and routines of everyone in the collage. The weather in Winterhold didn't bother the girl, being a nord, and she had often walked over the icy bridges from the collage to the town for the occasional drink. Obviously studying had been done and lots of it, but so had countless practical assignments and all in all the now 21 year old had had quite an adventure as a collage mage.
Now however her training was over and she had two options: the first, go back home to her uncle and become a companion as her father had wanted; and the second, stay at the college and become a teacher instead. Her previous teacher had expressed a great interest in working with her as a college, promising that he would help her rise through the ranks. At the time the idea had seemed boring and she had politely declined the position, however as the cart got closer to Whiterun regret began to course through her veins.
She had been gone a long while and her uncle had mentioned that a lot had changed. And there was that one word she despised: change. She had hated it ever since her parents died and she had been put under the care of her uncle. She hated having to start over and adapt to fit into a new environment. Change of course would be her biggest challenge in returning home. After all whoever heard of a companion that was also a mage?
This thought weighed heavy in her mind as the cart grinded to a halt at the gates of Whiterun. Huge oak doors stood before the girl yet before she could take a step a guard in Whiterun uniform walked forward. "Halt traveler! No one gets in or out with all of the talk of dragons at Helgan."
Zofie, being tired and impatient, didn't stop walking, not even when the guard drew his sword. "Whiterun is my home, my uncle Skjor of the companions circle is expecting me." Before the guard could object she produced the letter from her pocket and held it out to the oaf. "See for yourself." Grunting the guard looked over the letter before looking back up at her and handing back the letter. "Very well. Go on in but we will be watching you." Smirking to herself she made her way into the city.
The streets were fairly crowded with all sorts of people doing all sorts of things. There was a nord woman sharpening what looked to be a dagger on a grindstone, making a dreadful noise; scattered guards, who all looked like the one that had approached her outside of the city, trudged over the pavements on their routine patrols; a lanky man stood outside a house chopping firewood in half at a steady speed and three children ran up the street playing some form of game that either involved a dragon or a contagious disease. Whiterun clearly hadn't lost its peaceful home like atmosphere.
As Zofie walked through the front street to the market she took peace in the fact that no one stopped to talk to her or bother her. At most they smiled at her or said hello but no one stopped for a conversation, no one had the time or the inclination. She liked it that way. In that respect Whiterun was unlike the collage, there she couldn't walk from her quarters to the door without someone pestering her for something or other. The market was busier as it had just turned midday and every merchant, parent, drunk, mercenary, customer and elderly stood under the watchful eye of three guards that lent against doors and walls. Zofie decided to avoid looking out of place it was probably a good idea to take off her hood, this let her long black hair lose to trail down her back. The mages grey eyes searched for the end of the crowd which she found was exactly where she needed to be, convenient.
Once up the stairs she set off for the companion's hall. It was exactly how she remembered it: an old wooden building that looked like an upturned boat with the stone bird of the skyforge looming over its left side. The flames from the forge gave the bird an orange tinge and cast small yet defined shadows across the bird's chest and the smoke swirled around it as if it had just flown through a cloud. There was still twenty three uneven stone steps up to the weather worn doors. Zofie stretched out her hand slowly grazing her fingers across the wood. After a moment of just staring at it, overcoming her nerves, she pushed open the door to her old home.
