Onmund

"Onmund," says Brelyna, sticking her head in my room, "I just saw Angel headed up the path. I thought you would want to know." I quickly close the tome I was studying, uncross my legs, and hop off my bed.

"Thank you Brelyna," I say with a grin. The look on her face says she thinks I'm hopeless, but at least there's a smile there. That's the main way it differs from the constant expressions of my family. I'm not insulted by it; I'm used to people not believing in me. I put away the book on a shelf and hurry out of the Hall of Attainment, that way I can meet her as she comes through the gate. It's been a few weeks since she was last here and the sight of her coming over the last archway is a welcome one.

What the other apprentices don't understand is that it's not her looks that make me love her, although those certainly don't hurt, it's that she gets me. J'zargo and Brelyna have always been surrounded by people who support magic and it's study, but I'm a Nord, I grew up in a family of Nords, otherwise known as a family of magic haters. It was always, "Onmund, put down that book and pick up something useful!" or "I bet I could cleave the head from your body with my greatsword before you could get me with a lightning bolt," or, my personal favorite, "Onmund, if your magic can't hunt for dinner, what use are you?"

And though that bow on her back is always present, and she's not exactly a student of Destruction, she's never once espoused the benefits of a tangible weapon as opposed to the magic in my hands. I don't need to be a weapon toting warrior to get her attention.

"Angel!" I say as she comes through the gates. "It's been weeks! How are you?" She returns my wide smile, but mine fades as I see who's accompanying her. Oh look, a weapon toting warrior. "Who's your friend?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light. I'm not sure that I succeed. "He doesn't look like much of a mage." She laughs heartily.

"He's not. I doubt he could find enough Magicka in him to light a candle." My smile returns to my face. "Onmund, this is Vilkas. Vilkas, this is Onmund." Vilkas nods his head at me and folds his arms.

"Mage." I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Warrior," I say in the same tone. Angel turns to him and glares.

"His name is Onmund, Vilkas." Vilkas drops his arms to his sides and tries again.

"Sorry, Onmund. I meant no insult. I have never been around magic users before, but I am attempting to... broaden my horizons." Angel rewards this speech with a smile before turning back to me.

"So, what have I missed around here?" she asks.

"Not much. J'zargo is trying to rework that disaster of a flame cloak spell he gave you. The one that set you on fire, remember?" She shudders.

"Don't remind me." I chuckle.

"So I guess you won't be volunteering to test the new ones? Right, I'll take that glare as a no. Tolfdir lost his research notes again, but at least he's not claiming sabotage by Faralda, which is what Nikya does every time something goes wrong." This earns me a laugh she quickly tries to stifle. "Oh, and Urab gro-Shub has been complaining daily that you're not back with those books from Fellglow Keep yet." She rolls her eyes.

"Of course he has. Well, this is his lucky day. I'm here to return them and catch Drevis's lecture before heading back out." My heart sinks when she says she won't be staying, but, then again, she never does.

"Makes sense that you'd stay for Drevis," I say, hiding any and all disappointment. "How's that invisibility spell coming along?"

"You can turn yourself invisible?" asks Vilkas incredulously. She turns to answer him, but I beat her to it.

"Oh yes. She hasn't told you? Angel here is becoming quite the expert in the School of Illusion."

"And what school do you study, boy?" he asks with amusement. I open my hand palm up and conjure a flame, causing Vilkas to step back in surprise and reach for his sword. I bet I can fry you before you can reach me, I think.

"Destruction," I say with a smile instead. Angel bursts out laughing.

"Ah, Vilkas. You have a long way to go yet. Onmund, I need to go deliver these books. Save me a spot at the lecture?"

"Of course," I respond with a smile.

"Wonderful! Vilkas," she says, turning to him, "you can come to the lecture if you'd like, or you can wait here in the courtyard. Hell, you can even head down to the tavern and get drunk. Either way, it's going to be a few hours." She heads towards the Hall of the Elements.

"Well then Vilkas," I say, "will you be joining us in the lecture hall?" His silent glare is his response. "Right then, have fun at the mead hall," I say with a smile before heading the same direction Angel went. She may have brought the warrior, but she'll be spending the next several hours with the mage. I think I won this round.

Vilkas

I spend the afternoon in the local tavern, sampling their mead. It's obvious that mage boy is in love with her. I wonder if it's as obvious with me. Do I have the same lovelorn expression when she says she's not staying? Do I stumble over my words? Do I try to prove my superiority to every male in the vicinity? The answer to all these questions, of course, is yes. There must be one of us in every city and village she's visited in Skyrim, wondering when she'll be back again as she rides away without a backwards glance. It's early evening when she comes to collect me and we head out to collect our horses.

"So, where to now?" I ask as we saddle our mounts.

"I'm going to let you pick. Either we go to Snow Veil Sanctum and meet with the leader of the Thieves Guild to hunt down our traitor, or we go to Volunruud to get the details for my next assassination contract." I look at her in shock.

"Those are our options?"

"You wanted to see my life," she says unapologetically, "I'm showing you my life." The happy and light-hearted Angel from the Mage's College is gone, replaced by the hard-eyed, tough as stone warrior I've become accustomed to. As we turn our horses towards Snow Veil Sanctum I wonder if there's a single one of us lovelorn fools who really knows who she is at all.