At last an update! This one took some work, but I have settled on the intended character arcs for this book. And, after several passes got everyone doing and acting as I wanted. Anyway, here's the chapter. Have at it.
Deanne and Brelyna stood at the College front gates for a rather long time. Deanne tracked the passage of time by the approach of Winterhold's latest bout of snow as it advanced upon the coast, the bite of the cold-crisp wind strengthening against her face as it picked up. As if she wasn't worried enough.
This waiting felt remarkably familiar. At least she wasn't alone this time. Brelyna's steadfast, wordless company implied far more concern on her part than her terse comments.
About the time when Deanne was considering attempting Faralda's ambient heating spell, Brelyna finally declared, "We should go inside. They'll find us when they get back, I'm sure." She may have tried to sound dismissive, but Deanne detected a tightness in her voice.
"Yes, you're right," Deanne agreed, as much to reassure Brelyna as herself. "Onmund will bring him back. Even J'Zargo will realize this isn't weather to be running out into."
Deanne allowed Brelyna to take her arm and guide her back inside. The womer seemed to need the anchor.
They went and settled into Brelyna's chamber to wait. Brelyna pointedly dragged her desk chair around to where she could watch the front door, before distracting herself with some spell research. Deanne needed no such positioning and took the other chair where it sat. But working magic right now would not be wise. So she picked up some long unused yarn from her chamber and set to knitting as her mind wandered.
The needles clicked earnestly in accompaniment with the Hall's focus point, but her thoughts were at the College gates and the sequence of events there at.
She'd hesitated. All that time thinking and debating and wondering about going out there. Into the world like any other person. And when the opportunity presented itself to her…she'd hesitated.
Why had she hesitated?
She wanted to, didn't she? To be out there. To step beyond her boundaries. To go out and experience the world like any other person. Well, maybe not like any other person. But to be a part of the world…! Why had she hesitated?!
Deanne felt a stitch slip away in her haste. She swept her fingers over her work, finding a mess of missed and uneven knits and purls. Her breath stuttered but she took up the work again anyway. She needed the busy work.
Her needles clicked on, venting her indecision and frustration into the yarn, while Brelyna delivered hers to parchment by way of a quill. Together they filled the quiet with their nervous sounds.
She did want to go out there. To be a part of the larger world. She did want it. She would do it. Even knowing everything that could go wrong. If she didn't, she'd regret it for the rest of her life. Fighting her resolve loose from a lifetime of hesitation and fear, Deanne needed to drop the needles and grasp her fur tightly.
She did want it. She would do it. She could do it.
The fur twisted in her grip. No more hesitating. She needed to be brave. Courageous. Her fingers shifted and tightened again. She could do it.
The minutes became an hour. Then two hours. And neither of the men returned. The clicks and scratches grew more incessant. And the wait continued. The yet-tumultuous resolve Deanne had mustered gave way to concern as the minutes passed. Her ears focused ever on the Hall's entrance.
And still they waited.
"That's it!" Deanne started as Brelyna threw down her quill, her glass inkwell swiveling dangerously atop the wooden table. "I can't just sit here!"
Deanne felt conflicted at the declaration. "You mean to…go after them?"
Gods, she was hesitating again. Less, maybe—She was shifting forward in her seat and her mind was conjuring what she might grab from her chamber at need—but why was she hesitating again?
"Of course not," Brelyna shot at her. Deanne couldn't decide if she was pleased about that or not and she sat back into her seat, the surge of emotion just sort of roiled indeterminately inward. "But I don't want to just sit here doing nothing." Brelyna's finger beat testily on the table for several seconds.
Then she was on her feet.
"Come on," she insisted, grabbing Deanne's hand and hauling her up. Thoroughly lost, Deanne could only drop her knitting and follow.
Brelyna pulled her all the way up the stairs and around the second floor to a particular chamber door. She did a quick surveillance of the area and then opened it cautiously, and took an equally careful stock of the room before moving inside. Which set Deanne on edge.
"What are you doing?"
"Shh!" the womer hissed, leaving Deanne in the doorway as she went in. "Just stand watch."
"What?" 'Stand watch'? They weren't in the wilds. What was there to watch for?
"Just stay there and warn me if anyone's coming."
That was distinctly un-Brelyna. Where even… Deanne took note of the room they'd entered.
"– This is Orthorn's chamber, isn't it?!"
"Shhhh!" Brelyna hissed again, furiously, and Deanne stood in the sliver of the door, like she might block the fact that it was open, trying to look…like she wasn't involved with whatever was happening inside. Though she felt like she must look terribly conspicuous. And she didn't even actually know what Brelyna was doing in there.
The Hall of Attainment had been empty of anyone but them since they'd entered. So Deanne kept her Eye trained on the front door, even more taut than before. Every passing second, every trace of sound mounting her anxiety. Her heart was beating in her throat, and she grasped for what she might do if anyone were to walk into the hall.
And then someone did walk into the hall.
Deanne gasped and rushed to the other side of the door, startling Brelyna.
"What is it?" She hadn't heard the door.
Deanne scrambled, suddenly unable to identify whose aura she was – "Nirya. It's Nirya!"
"Shut the door!" she hissed. Deanne obeyed, clapping it shut, both of them flinching at the sound. "Quietly!"
They froze, listening in terror as Nirya's footsteps came out of the ambient noise, circling the second floor – 'Don't check the room. Don't check the room. Don't check the room.' – and went into her chamber two rooms down and shut her own door behind her.
Because of course that was where she would go.
They both breathed a sigh of relief.
Then Brelyna opened another drawer at the desk, "Tell me if she comes out," and went back to rifling through Orthorn's things.
"What are you doing?" Deanne demanded at a whisper. She felt like they'd just escaped expulsion from the College. What were they doing in here?!
Brelyna went on searching while she answered, "Looking for some clue where Orthorn went. Obviously." That was…Actually, that was rather smart.
"You think he would have left it here? Wouldn't someone find it?" Brelyna huffed.
"Well I wouldn't exactly call him a 'full soul-gem', if you know what I mean." She shut the drawer, harder than necessary, and huffed again. "He had to have left something…" Brelyna's foot tapped crossly while Deanne checked the Hall again. "Hmmm…If I were Orthorn, then where would I hide something secret." She paused. Then murmured incredulously, "He wouldn't…"
Before Deanne could ask, Brelyna hurried over and started mussing with the bed.
A few seconds later, "Really?!"
"What?" Brelyna grunted as she rose to her feet, paper crinkling in her hand.
"He hid them under his bed! He was never much of a mage, but how did such a moron even get admitted here?!"
"What do they say?" Deanne asked, after another quick stock of the Hall of Attainment.
"Hang on. Let me read." But Deanne's curiosity was trampled beneath the reality of their their current location.
"Actually, maybe you can look those over downstairs?"
"Oh. Oh, right!"
Brelyna came to Deanne's back and, after making certain it was all-clear, they slipped out and streaked for the stairs, not stopping until they were safely behind Brelyna's own door.
Deanne closed the it firmly behind them, just in case, and let her pounding heart slow back to a steady beat.
"I think J'Zargo's been rubbing off on you," she said, a little teasing.
"Excuse me?!" Brelyna shot back, fighting similarly to calm down. "Who's the one who got me to sneak off to the undercroft? Maybe you're the one rubbing off on me." Deanne took a breath to deny it…and only ended up giggling as the realization set in. "And besides, it wasn't technically against College rules. Orthorn stole books and ran off. I don't think he's coming back. So it's not even his room, anymore. Technically."
"So what was all that sneaking about?" Deanne asked. This time it was Brelyna sputtering over a non-answer.
She finally blurted, "Just watch for the boys. And anyone else. I'm going to see what Orthorn was hiding."
Deanne tucked a smile into the corners of her mouth and did as she was told.
She didn't bother with her knitting this time. Just stroked the fur of her mantle gently and set her mind's Eye upon the bridge, their solitude now punctuated by the occasional shift of paper in Brelyna's hands and her soft mutter over what the pages held.
They didn't have much longer to wait. Deanne felt a weight lift from her shoulders the instant she felt J'Zargo and Onmund's auras come within range of her senses.
"They're back."
Brelyna's exhale was part relief and part aggravation. And Deanne immediately found herself being hauled up and out of the Hall, as the Dunmer was not willing to wait for them to come to the Hall. A fresh onslaught of snow met them, the snow storm having made landfall.
The front gate had just closed when the women reached them.
And whatever tirade Brelyna had prepared was replaced with a blaring, "What happened?!"
The layer of snow crunched under their feet as Onmund grunted, the movement drawing a pained yowl from J'Zargo's throat.
"There was a bear on the road. I told you we should have waited!"
"And let him get further away? Not a – Aggh!"
"Help me get him inside," Onmund said, firmly. Brelyna moved to assist.
Deanne had to twist out of the womer's grip so both of them could help properly. Brelyna put herself beneath J'Zargo's other arm while Deanne cast a spell to gauge their state – Divines, they'd taken a beating. Nothing life threatening, but there was no question why they'd returned. Even their auras were dimmed, both their magicka reserves depleted. How had this happened?
The four made their way to the Hall of Attainment, the worsened weather driving them inside, the group nearly bumping into Nirya on her way out. She humphed thoughtfully as she passed, and went on her way, and they on theirs. If they had hoped to keep this outing secret before, there was little chance of it now. The rest of the College was sure to know within the day with Nirya's penchant for gossip.
Putting that aside, Deanne led them to her chambers, finding her supply of poultices and potions by touch faster than the others could have by sight, and went to work mending their pains while Brelyna set to interrogation.
"What happened to 'I'll go get him'?" she demanded first, pacing furiously in the space around Deanne and her patients.
"He's faster than he looks, alright?" Onmund did no more than hiss as he removed his robes, allowing Deanne access to his wounds. She pressed a potion and cloths into his hands, bidding him clean the lacerations first while she turned to J'Zargo, who was more vocal about his pain. And indignation.
"What?! Who spoke on speaking with guards? And talked of weather and distance –" Deanne shut him up by skillfully tucking a wad of blisterwort and wheat into his mouth, while Onmund snapped, "That wasn't encouragement!"
"Chew," she instructed, very much secure in her healer's mindset, "It's for the pain." And she offered another sample in Onmund's direction. They could argue for the rest of the day if they wanted, but the treatments took precedent. J'Zargo still managed to grumble and gripe wordlessly around his mouthful.
"So you both went after Orthorn?" Brelyna accused, more irked with Onmund than J'Zargo. "Unequipped, storm brewing. Not to mention however much of a lead he had."
Onmund insisted, "I was trying to talk him out of it. He wouldn't listen!" then shoved the chew in his mouth and started dutifully grinding on it. Brelyna gestured furiously in the background.
"Unbelievable. Not a bit of sense between you!"
"Hey!" J'Zargo jerked, tearing his arm from Deanne's hands, though whether to justifying himself or come to Onmund's defense was unclear.
Regardless, she gave him a firm swat and the Khajiit yelped. She used the opportunity to drag him back where she could work on him. Just because the lacerations weren't bleeding anymore didn't mean she was done. Again, J'Zargo grumbled, but complied.
Though he still went on and said, "At least we went to do something useful. Track the thief and get back what he stole." Brelyna snorted.
"You didn't even know where he was headed." J'Zargo made a sound of dismissal, but Onmund caught more meaning from Brelyna's words.
"Wait…you know where he's going?" Something was done behind Deanne and it set J'Zargo off anew.
"Why didn't the womer tell us?!"
"Before or after you took off without waiting for anyone?!" Deanne had to seize his robes again.
"J'Zargo, I will let these fester if you don't sit still and let me finish." She was quite proud when J'Zargo caught the seriousness in her tone and sat rigidly still under her hands. Going back to it, she did say, "And we didn't know before you both were already away." Turning over her shoulder, she ventured, "There was something in those, right?"
A brief pause.
And then Brelyna rushed to say, "I mean, yes. Or I was just getting to it." She pulled out the papers as Deanne finished knitting what she could of J'Zargo's internal injuries. She handed him a potion for the lingering damage, told him he could spit out the chew and turned to check Onmund's progress.
"So what did you find?" Onmund asked, submitting himself to Deanne's ministrations.
"Letters," Brelyna answered, plopping down on Deanne's bed with the sheets of parchment, "Between Orthorn and some group of conjurers in Whiterun Hold. If there's a more specific location, he must have taken that one with him."
The name gave Deanne pause.
Whiterun. Where the Companions were based.
"Why would he want to go off to join up with a bunch of rogue mages in Whiterun? There aren't any legitimate guilds there. Especially if it's Conjuration," Onmund said.
"Better question," J'Zargo sniped, "Why would they want him?"
As more comments were tossed around, as well as questions of how Brelyna came by what she knew, Deanne's mind returned to her thoughts at the gate. And with the destination revealed, a path ahead was cleared and presented. But Brelyna didn't have answers for the questions being thrown around.
"Does it matter? You know where he's headed. It's more than you took off with before. And I hope you'll actually take some supplies this time instead of dashing out into the storm with just the robes on your backs like a couple of–"
"I want to go with you."
The whole room went quiet at Deanne's declaration. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she remained firm. No more hesitation. No more regrets.
Onmund was dumbfounded.
"Go with us?"
"Yes!" J'Zargo leapt up and wrapped an arm tight around her shoulders. "This will be spectacular!" Brelyna couldn't have been more opposed.
"You can't go with them!" with Onmund seconding, "We're not going at all!"
"Well…why not?" Deanne asked. No, demanded. Why couldn't she be a part of this?
"Because it isn't safe!" Onmund insisted, near panicked over the prospect. "Whiterun's not friendly toward mages. Nowhere is! And besides, we didn't get a mile out of town before something happened. Skyrim is dangerous. Too dangerous."
"Exactly," Brelyna agreed.
"For one or two, perhaps." J'Zargo's speaking up for her was a relief. "But if we go together, it will be easy! Look at this!" And she felt him wave his arms before them. "A little patching and J'Zargo is ready to go. Had we this after the bear, we could have kept going. Deanne must come!"
"That's my point. Skyrim is too dangerous for her. For us!" Deanne turned in Onmund's direction, hoping she was looking him in the eye.
"It's too dangerous for anyone to travel alone. So doesn't it make sense to have a healer with you? I can do that."
"I'm…I'm not saying you can't. It's that – That's not the only – You're blind!"
She felt the words like a blow. And did not waver.
"But I'm not crippled. Just because I can't see doesn't mean I can't do things at all. It hasn't kept me from learning magic, or defending myself."
"But there's a big difference between studying magic in a safe environment and wandering Skyrim."
"Which is why we go together."
"Yes, yes!" J'Zargo cried, coming to her elbow. "Didn't Onmund and Brelyna make a great fuss of staying together? Well? And remember that Deanne can do more than heal. Did you see her in the tomb?" He flung his arm around her shoulders again and pulled it tight. "Maybe Deanne and J'Zargo will go, and Onmund can stay behind." Deanne did her best not to beam, even as the thought sent anxious sparks across her spine.
Onmund stumbled over his arguments. While he grasped for words, Deanne's hands curled into fists and stood taller, taking strength from J'Zargo.
And Onmund must have recognized the determination setting before him.
"I…Fine!"
Deanne released the breath she'd been holding. She hadn't wanted to go without him. J'Zargo might be all for it. But she knew there was strength in numbers, and readily recognized that her disability would need accounting for. Onmund wasn't going to leave it at that, though.
"But listen now. You're going to follow my lead, understand?" he declared, sounding much like another from not long ago, if without quite the same natural authority. Still, he tried. "We're going to stay together. We go, we find Orthorn, and we come straight back after. Got it?" J'Zargo sniggered, hearing the same thing Deanne did.
The Khajiit leaned in to whisper, "He thinks because he is a Nord in Skyrim, that means he is in charge."
What followed was a rapid exchange, the two males arguing their merits and which of them should be in charge of this expedition.
Deanne didn't speak up. She was willing to follow, and agreed that they should stay on task and return to the College once they'd found Orthorn and recovered what he'd taken. But her thoughts soon turned elsewhere.
Vilkas. She was going to see Vilkas again. And much, much sooner than she'd thought. How long ago had he gone on his way, back to Whiterun? Barely a week. And here she was, following after.
Well, no. Not following him. But going in the same direction as he had. And to the same place. At least to start. And of her own power, too. Would he be proud? Divines, she hoped he'd at least be pleased to see her. When they'd parted, he'd promised to take her to Whiterun someday. Though he'd doubtless thought that 'someday' was further off. They both had.
But was it bad that it was sooner? Or that she'd do it without him? Her stomach was already twisting up. Sweet Lady Mara, she hoped he would be happy to see her.
Deanne's musings were broken when Brelyna cried out.
"Stop, stop! Just shut up!" Onmund and J'Zargo likewise halted in their back-and-forth. Brelyna's breaths were deep and halted.
Then she said, "You can't really be thinking this, can you?" Deanne wondered, and rightly guessed the question was directed to her. "You can't really…I mean, after everything that happened at Saarthal, how could you…This is a terrible idea!"
Deanne heard in her voice the sort of deep seated fear that Deanne had suffered from for so much of her life. The fear of the unknown. Of failure. Of the consequence that came with both.
"I…I know."
She did. She really did. But…Faralda's words were clear in her mind.
"But every choice comes with consequence. And..." Deanne breathed in and stood just a bit taller. "I think I'm ready to test my limits."
J'Zargo let out a caterwaul and Deanne 'eeped' as he seized and spun her around the room. Divines, she didn't think her declaration was worth this kind of reaction.
He set her down and was practically buzzing with excitement, "Let us be off! The world awaits!"
"Now wait a minute, we're not just taking off again. We need to plan it this time," Onmund insisted.
"Fine, fine. J'Zargo leaves Onmund to pack all the boring things, and J'Zargo will bring the things that will make this exciting!"
"This isn't about excitement!"
"J'Zargo," Deanne said, trying to help Onmund talk their friend around. "We're going to need take some things with us."
"We should probably ask if we can sign out staffs," Onmund offered. "Just in case."
"Yes! Destruction staffs! Firebolts!"
"No."
"Thunderbolts!"
"No!"
In the midst of it all, Deanne noticed Brelyna had fallen silent again.
"Brelyna?" No answer. "You're coming with us, right?"
Every adventure they'd been on, since the first time in the Undercroft, they'd done it together. The Waterwalking spell on the beach, Saarthal, not to mention their classes and much of their free time. It seemed almost incomprehensible that they wouldn't do this together as well. But, by the way Brelyna was hesitating…
Seconds ticked by, unbroken. Until…
"I'm sorry. You may be ready but…I'm not."
Deanne felt her heart sort of…squeeze at that.
J'Zargo scoffed beside them, "Stay, then. We have no need of you – "
"J'Zargo, enough!" Deanne snapped. His bravado might be part of his personality, but he needed to learn when to stop.
Deanne understood what Brelyna was going through. This fear was more familiar to her than almost any other emotion. And there was no shame in it. None at all.
Even if it was profoundly saddening to break from their little unit.
"It's alright," Deanne said softly. "You shouldn't force yourself if you're not ready." It wouldn't keep Deanne from going, or wishing Brelyna would come. But the last thing she wanted was to leave her friend feeling guilty for not being as willing to take such risks herself. Deanne was familiar with that, too. And she would not do that to her.
So she smiled reassuringly, lifting her head to be sure Brelyna would see it.
"We'll be back before you know it."
Brelyna said nothing. And Deanne wished, not for the first time, there was a spell to read thoughts.
Behind her, Onmund redirected the conversation.
"If we're going to check out supplies, we'll need to tell the Master Wizard what we're doing."
"Bet J'Zargo finds her first!" And J'Zargo bolted out the door, leaving Onmund sputtering.
"J'Zargo – ugh! Come on."
His hand closed around her elbow, but Deanne held her place a moment longer. Just in case Brelyna had something to say. Or maybe, changed her mind…
But, no.
So Deanne let Onmund lead her after their more eager companion, and left Brelyna where she stood.
XXX
When they'd gone seeking Master Mirabelle's approval for the venture, Deanne hadn't expected it to turn into a committee.
Well, there had been some magisterial meeting going on when they'd arrived. Then J'Zargo – being J'Zargo – barged in and announced their intentions loudly and without thinking. Maybe it wasn't so surprising the magisters had altered focus entirely onto the apprentices.
So here she sat, Onmund on one side, J'Zargo on the other, with five magisters considering their request.
"Are you three sure of this?" Master Mirabelle withheld any sign of her predisposition. "While we appreciate your willingness to recover stolen resources, the task itself is more dangerous than I think you realize. There is a civil war brewing in Skyrim. This is not the best time for anyone to be wandering the roads. And then there's the standard dangers of travel and the suspicion you should expect as mages of the College."
"We are, Master Wizard." Onmund kept his voice steady, but Deanne could feel the tension in his shoulders. "I grew up in the Hold. J'Zargo's traveled all the way from Elswyer to get here. Between us, we know what to expect. And Deanne's got more experience in Restoration than either of us, in case anything does happen." He sounded proud of the argument. And Deanne belatedly tried to remember if he'd ever mentioned being from Whiterun.
Mirabelle hummed. At least she appreciated they'd thought this through.
"But none of you are well-traveled within Skyrim. You are not so long studied as to warrant departure from the College, even under standard circumstances. And as to Deanne's complications…"
If she was expecting the first response from her table to be in her favor, Faralda was quick to do otherwise.
"These apprentices have proven themselves quite capable young mages in the past months. Certainly capable enough to travel to Whiterun and return." Mirabelle's reply was terse.
"I would have expected you to be against this."
Deanne caught the emphasis in the statement. So Faralda's pointed care for Deanne had been noted. She shouldn't have been surprised. The Destruction Master has taken clear effort to teach and encourage her. It was hardly a secret. And that guidance had been a significant factor in her growth, not just as a mage, but as a person. Of course that would be noticed.
But at the same time, this was a sharp reminder that Deanne wasn't invisible at the College. That she, what she did, and who she spent time with was observed and marked. By anyone. And that reminder raised a question, one that came with an uncomfortable tension in her stomach: what kind of impression did she make?
Rather than follow that thought, though, Deanne cleared her throat, vividly aware of the attention shifting entirely onto her.
"Master Wizard, I can't speak to how I seem to you now. But I since I've been here, I've grown so much. And so much more than I ever thought myself capable of. I've learned my lessons well, and I've earned good marks in my regular classes. I can move more independently than I've been able to in...in my entire life. And I believe I can succeed outside the College as well...If I'm accompanied..." She struggled to quash all the 'what if' scenarios and look confident - feel confident. Was it working? She couldn't tell until they spoke.
Thankfully, Onmund had her back.
"It'll be a great learning experience. For all of us."
Master Sergius, another of Deanne's mentors, was likewise concerned. But it had him opposed.
"A satchel of supplies aren't worth the lives of three apprentices, no matter what Orthorn took. And students should be testing at an Expert level in at least one school before we let them take off. They're not ready."
Master Urag growled from where he stood against the wall, "College supplies might be replaceable, but those books are priceless. At least someone's looking to sort this out. Not the usual 'non-response' we get around here."
Master Colette likewise pipped up, snipping, "And I'll have you know that, thanks to my tutoring, Deanne is most certainly an Expert in Restoration, I assure you." On Sergius's other side, Master Phinias had a slightly different addition to make.
"As I recall, there was a time when a period abroad was a necessary part of a young mage's curriculum."
"Journeyman," Urag gro-Shug supplied gruffly. "Revised out for something we could do in-house once things got touchy out there." He didn't sound the least bit impressed with the decision.
"With good reason," Master Mirabelle said firmly. "The dangers facing a wandering mage are greater than they were a century ago. Or even a decade go."
"But we're ready!" J'Zargo shouted, coming out of his seat. Deanne reached out, trying to tug him back down – now wasn't the time for outbursts – but he batted away her attempts. "We proved this at Saarthal, did we not? Bandits! Draugr! We can pursue and catch one lousy mage. What cause have you to doubt us?!"
He ran out of steam and Deanne was able to hook her fingers in his robes and drag him back down to sit. Master Mirabelle's response was much more measured and stern.
"Your confidence is not a direct reflection of your capabilities, J'Zargo. And there have been enough tragedies in recent years, we are not eager to lose more young mages unnecessarily."
That reasoning quieted the apprentices, and most of the Magisters. Deanne felt both of her friends sort of deflate a bit. At this point she was expecting a rejection as well.
It wasn't that she didn't understand the risks. Or where the magisters were coming from. Maybe they weren't ready. Maybe they should spend another year practicing their magic. But…
No, J'Zargo was right! They'd proven capable of working together, of fighting together, without oversight. This was a reasonable next step!
"If that is the concern, a chaperone would fix that easily," Faralda offered. Mirabelle didn't even hesitate.
"No. For one, the discovery in Saarthal requires prompt looking into. And with the war beginning, anti-mage groups are likely to feel emboldened to act on their prejudices. We need all our Masters on hand for the time being. Particularly our Destruction Master." Faralda humphed softly, but didn't dispute the point.
Master Phinias ventured to the apprentices, "There are normally four in your little group. Where is Brelyna in all this?"
J'Zargo groused and took a breath beside her, but Deanne elbowed him quickly before he could say something unkind. Onmund answered in his place.
"She'd rather stay at the College. But the three of us can handle a trip to Whiterun and back. And if the war is really just starting up, now's the best time to do any travel, right? So we're back before it gets going?"
Deanne heard the magisters shifting at their consideration.
"I don't see why this has turned into such an event," Master Phinias complained. "The College isn't a prison. If the students want to go off, let them– "
"Not if they want to be in good standing when they come back," Enchanter Sergius pointed out.
"And Deanne is a Ward of the College. She is our responsibility, and she does need permission to leave on this kind of trip."
Deanne heard Phinias's meager, "Still," and Urag give a disapproving grunt, but nothing more.
Mirabelle proceeded to say, "With the Arch Mage still in Saarthal, the final decision falls to me. Unless anyone else has more to say." She allowed the opening to linger until she was certain it would go unanswered. Then the Master Wizard took a breath, seeming to draw in all that had been said for consideration. The room marked that time as it passed, waiting.
Deanne felt the desire to fill the silence, somehow. She'd never wanted something this badly before. The venture had become so real so quickly. New and terrifying and exciting and…possible. And now within reach. She believed she could do this. And she wanted to so badly. 'Please. We can. We want to. We deserve to. Please let us. Please let me be courageous myself.'
Then Onmund and J'Zargo sat up, signaling to Deanne that Mirabelle had come to a decision.
"Very well. You may go."
J'Zargo launched out of his seat with a victorious shout, heedless of the audience, and Deanne couldn't have said it better herself.
XXX
"You will be appropriately supplied and equipped. I believe a change in wardrobe is in order, as well. You will, after all, be representing the College while abroad. So it is appropriate you look the part."
Master Sergius wasn't particularly pleased with the decision. But he dutifully divvied up travel packs, camping supplies, and the various items they would need between them. J'Zargo was actually trying to haggle more soul gems out of him, while Onmund was trying to get J'Zargo to take more of their supplies in his own pack. Deanne stood aside, letting them sort things out and just sort of expecting to receive her fair share of the weight when they were done.
That's when Faralda approached with Deanne's own staff allocation. There was pride in how Faralda pressed the smooth wood into Deanne's palm.
"I convinced Mirabelle this was called for. One of my more powerful pieces. Electricity. And it packs quite the punch. Just in case."
Deanne ran her fingers along the frame, feeling the texture and shape of the stave, and the spellwork woven within. 'Quite the punch' was an understatement. It was like a captured thunderstorm inside the grain.
"So?" Faralda asked softly. "How do you feel?"
The Ward breathed out in a rush. "Nervous. A little scared. But excited."
Faralda chuckled, "Good. If you weren't feeling all three, I'd be worried." She grasped Deanne's shoulder reassuringly. "Hold on to those feelings once you're out there. They will serve to keep you aware. And safer than you'd be without them."
Deanne nodded, breathing steadily, feeling like Faralda's grip was all that was keeping her from vibrating right out of her new robes.
The Destruction Master squeezes her Ward's shoulder once more and told her, "I'm working on getting one more thing for your trip."
"Oh, you don't need to," Deanne insisted, realizing exactly how much valuable equipment was already being meted out for this.
"But I will regardless. And you'll thank me for doing so. Trust me." And she leaned forward to kiss Deanne's forehead, before turning to put her foot down about whatever hitch was holding up the final allocations.
XXX
"In addition to the standard field equipment, you will receive funds enough to see you housed and fed for a period of approximately three weeks. Utilize these funds wisely as, once you are beyond the College walls, you will be responsible for yourselves."
"So how are we getting there?" Onmund asked with what sounded like half an answer in mind already.
As a part of their equipment set, Urag had issued them a semi-detailed map of Skyrim. And, being Urag, it was under the condition that, once their task was done, all three of them return it to him in exactly the condition they'd received it.
Specifying 'all three of you' when one would suffice was probably as close as they'd get to him wishing them a safe return. Right now they were gathered to chart the route they would take to reach Whiterun.
J'Zargo snorted, "What kind of a question is that? There is only one road!"
Onmund shot back, "I want to make sure we're all on the same page. It cuts east, halfway to Windhelm before it gets over the mountains. Then we double back. That means two days in cold weather, maybe three. So we should be ready for that." J'Zargo made a distasteful sound.
"Windhelm. The further from there the better. J'Zargo passed through on his way here. They were not friendly."
"Exactly. And not really fond of mages, either."
Deanne made a mental note about the city. If Onmund was opposed, it must be very bad. Of course, she didn't have a good frame of reference for 'normal' Skyrim attitude toward mages, either. Grasping her mantle tightly, she hoped she could endure it. She'd never had a high threshold for harsh treatment.
"There's supposed to be a pass to the west of here," Brelyna offered. Though she wasn't going with them, she'd found an excuse to linger near them while they planned. "It's up past Saarthal somewhere. It would probably cut your trip in half." With the very concept of three days in the snow sending shivers down Deanne's spine, that sounded rather appealing.
"And how do you propose we find it?" Onmund replied sardonically. "Maybe it would be half the trip. But if the pass isn't obvious, or if the snow hasn't cleared, then we'll be stuck and just have to come back. It's a waste of time." Brelyna bristled at the rebuke.
"Well, sorry. I was trying to be helpful. You're a Nord. And J'Zargo's probably grown some kind of undercoat by now. But I'd rather Deanne not freeze to death out there, alright?" Onmund take a breath to shoot back, but halted and exhale instead.
"Which is why I want to make sure this goes right. You're not the only one who's thinking about this."
While it was good the splitting of their group wasn't going to be on bad terms, all Deanne got from the exchange was that they were all trying to account for her burden. For how much slower, or longer, or harder it would be to get her from here to there. That, even though they'd agreed to take her, she was going to be the weakest link. It was…uncomfortable.
"What about Dawnstar?" she asked, trying to alleviate the lurking sense of inadequacy. "It's the way Vilkas brought me."
Onmund answered, "Dawnstar…It's about the same distance around the mountains."
"And it is not Windhelm," J'Zargo declared eagerly, moving to the desk as well.
"But there's no road between them," Onmund pointed out.
J'Zargo scoffed, "Who needs a road? We just go straight across here."
"Or follow the coast," Brelyna said. Another J'Zargo scoff.
"And get salt in J'Zargo's fur?" He punctuated it with a noise of disgust. Which did not impress Brelyna.
"Well it's either salt or frost trolls," she said imperiously. When no one responded, she explained, "That 'straight across' area is one of their primary habitats."
There was a brief pause.
Then they all echoed, "Coast."
XXX
"You will present yourselves to Farengar, the Whiterun Hold Court Wizard, when you arrive. This letter will explain the circumstances. He will direct you to whatever lodging he deems appropriate and will serve as your supervisor while you're there. However, as that is his place of employment, you'll be largely responsible for yourselves.
"During you're time in Whiterun, you will attempt to locate Orthorn and recover the items he took from the College. However, when your funds are exhausted, and if you have not yet done so, you will return to the College, regardless of the progress of your search."
Deanne went through her room carefully, picking out what personal effects she would add to the pack of supplies she'd been given, as Onmund and J'Zargo were doing in their own rooms right now. Her pack was probably smaller than strictly necessary, given the three were sharing the burden of their general supplies. But chances were she would mind less once she'd been carrying it for a whole day.
She gathered and set out undergarments, robes, under-robes, over-robes, plenty of socks, and spare boots. She didn't know what she would need out there, but the primary memory from her single trip through the province was that it was cold.
When Onmund's footsteps come to the door, she turns to receive him.
"Hey, do you want – Are you taking all that?"
Her initial certainty was undercut by the incredulity in his tone.
"Yes?" Did he just not notice how swiftly most of them rushed from building to building up here?
"Whiterun is a lot warmer than Winterhold. Trust me, you won't need all that." Deanne frowned, conflicted.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course. It won't get cold until Hearthfire. This time of year, most people walk around in light shirts. Or no shirt if you're out tilling…"
He trailed off, caught in his thoughts. Probably thoughts of home.
Deanne gave him a minute, and then ventured, "Are you alright with this? Going back to Whiterun, I mean." He'd said on multiple occasions that his family hadn't approve of him leaving to study magic. She couldn't imagine a reunion being entirely happy under those circumstances.
"Of course," he blurted out. "Mostly. It's not that I expect…I mean –" He stumbled over responses, to confirm or deny or dismiss, rather confirming this concern was more serious than he'd let on. Deanne remained still, waiting out his conflict.
Said explanation was interrupted by an audible crash from J'Zargo's chamber. And Onmund seized the diversion.
"I'll go check on him. Then, when I come back, I'll help you to through all that." A triumphant yowl reached their ears, and she heard Onmund grimace. "I'll be right back," and he rushed away.
He wouldn't go into the matter of his returning home. Not without her pushing him, and she wasn't the sort to do that. Maybe he'd speak on it when they got closer to Whiterun. Maybe it would even turn out to be less of an issue than he thought.
On another note, it made her wonder what her own 'homecoming' might look like. In Skingrad. She didn't expect it to ever happen. It was quite far away; and, without any family, there wasn't any real reason to return. What would they make of her now? She'd probably be able to teach the priestesses a few Restoration tricks. Walk the streets without a guide. Maybe even wander beyond the city walls. Wasn't that a strange concept.
Well, maybe not so strange anymore, given her last outing. From near-cloistered maid to a tomb-delving mage. Now that was a strange development.
What would Father think of her now? He'd meant for her to have a lifetime of shelter here. Had he expected her to take up magic eventually? Would he be against her leaving the College once she'd gotten here? It was hard to imagine what he would want now. She'd never been anything near self-sufficient in Cyrodiil.
And what about her brother, Marc? What would he think? That was even harder to consider. And now that she was leaving…would she find out what happened to him? Why he'd never reached the College? Divines…She didn't know if she wanted to; if it would be worse to learn he'd suffered some gruesome fate, or go on wondering.
Deanne didn't want to think on that, and hurried to focus back on her packing, grasping for a trace of her previous excitement before the old grief could regain its grip. She didn't want to start this trip with such grim thoughts on her mind. It had been so long. How likely was it she would find anything, one way or the other?
Setting aside the clothes for a while, she focused on gathering other things she thought she'd need: bathing supplies, potions, her sewing kit, a travel alchemy set, J'Zargo's souvenir – which she immediately put around her neck and tucked beneath her robes. Across the hall, she could hear the back and forth: J'Zargo's "This one needs that!" and Onmund's "No, you don't!" and was glad to smile.
One last thing. From the back of the drawer where it had lived, completely untouched, since her arrival, Deanne reached in and retrieved her small pouch of treasure.
Sitting back on her heels, she grasped the weighted bottom of the bag, feeling hard shapes of gold and jewels inside. Maybe it was imprudent to take it out into the world. They may never use it. Or it might be stolen. But it had served next to no purpose where it had been. So…better to take it and not need it, right?
As she was tucking it into her bag, Deanne heard the Hall door open. A brief look with her Eye revealed Faralda had entered.
Deanne sat up, ready to receive her – only for the Master to walk to the Hall's other side and knock on another door. Brelyna's door. Deanne observed her aura as Faralda was admitted…and stayed.
She sat there, wondering.
Then J'Zargo came out of his room, shouting that he was ready and Onmund yelling that he wasn't and, for Stendarr's mercy, put some trousers in!
Deanne giggled and went to tuck her treasure into the recesses of her pack, before Onmund came back and helped her cull her clothes into a bulk she could carry a good distance.
And all the while, excitement rose back into place, bubbling in her veins. Not much longer now.
XXX
"As a final reminder: when you step outside this College, you will serve as its representatives. Of its values and priorities. And we expect you to conduct yourselves as such. You must, at all times, be aware of your actions and how they will reflect on yourselves and the College."
Mirabelle met them in the Hall of the Elements in the early hours for their final send off. J'Zargo would not stop preening over their new robes; Adept level with a suitably stronger enchantment. Onmund was fidgeting, working out how to juggle his new staff and pack, while guiding her at once. And Deanne was throttling hers, trying not to throw up.
They were ready. Packed, planned, prepared. She just wished they were a mile into their journey already, because these last few minutes were brutal. Last minutes, last chance to call it off, to stay behind. The weather was finally clear enough. Could they leave yet? Where was Faralda? Deanne thought she'd be here to see them off.
As if in answer, the great doors groaned open and closed again. Deanne opened her Eye in brief, just long enough to identify Faralda approaching, with Brelyna following. The former's aura was her ever-contained maelstrom of power; the latter's, fraying at the edges.
Faralda came forward, drawing Deanne in for one last embrace. "You be careful."
"I will," Deanne promised. "And thank you. For encouraging me. And speaking up for us. For everything –" Faralda laughed loudly, cutting off Deanne's stream of gratitude before it could get going.
"You're not leaving forever." Deanne clapped her mouth shut. But the silliness of her immediate inclination stretched it into a broad smile.
Of course. They weren't relocating across the province. A month or so and they'd be back, as though they'd never left. No need to make such a grand deal about it. Even though everyone sort of was. Divines, they were really doing this!
Faralda kissed her forehead tenderly and stepped aside. At which point Brelyna came over to take Deanne's free hand…and stood next to her. Onmund exhaled something like a relieved chuckle. But Deanne just stood there, confused, until Mirabelle called the group to order.
"If you're ready, then, we will wish you a safe journey. Should there be any significant occurrences, do not hesitate to send word."
"Yes, Master Wizard," Onmund answered.
"Let's go, then!" J'Zargo declared, making for the door like a racer off the mark.
Onmund followed, with one hand under Deanne's elbow. And Brelyna with them on her other side, a staff of her own clicking with each step, and the pack shifting on her shoulders.
"You're coming with us?" Deanne asked, hardly daring to assume. Not until Brelyna herself –
Brelyna squeezed her hand tight, "Let's just go. Before I lose my nerve."
Deanne squeezed back as Onmund let go and stepped ahead when they came to the bridge to the mainland. Here, it was Deanne imbuing fortitude and drawing Brelyna on; a strange reversal of their norm.
The Magisters remained at the College front gates as the Apprentices – Journeymen, now – set off together into the Skyrim.
And they are out of the College! Let the grand adventure begin!
I know the plee is old and tired, but I could really use the validation. Leave a comment before you go, and I'll see you next update.