Chapter 20:
Impromptu Lessons
The Elder Scrolls Series is property of Bethesda. Familiar of Zero is (currently) property of Media Factory (I believe)
"Talking"
"Thoughts"
"Powerful (Dragon/Daedra/etc.) speech"
"DOVAHZUL"
Line Break
Johan jerked awake at the series of rapid knocks tore him from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the door to check on Juliet. He hummed lightly upon seeing that she was alright.
The knocking grew more fervent.
With a quicker step, Johan made his way to the door, revealing Marcus and a handful of his other kin. The group visibly relaxed upon seeing the Nord's calm visage. He opened the door wider. "She's still asleep," he said quietly, "So do be careful." He then stepped aside, allowing them to pour in.
"Heh-Hem," someone coughed.
The Nord turned, cocking a brow at Louise and Siesta; at the nervous expressions marring their young faces. He sighed, "…What have you told her, Louise?"
The young mage gulped softly, "I may have told her a bit about your…religious beliefs."
He immediately held his hand up, "Please, save all questions until after Juliet is awake."
"Bu—"
"She deserves to hear it too," he cut her off gently.
Siesta hummed sadly, and Louise bent her head down, unable to form a retort.
"Um…Johan!" Someone cried out.
The man in question perked up a bit. He winked mischievously at the two young women, "Well, looks like you may get your answers sooner than you think!" He turned around, gently pushing past the crowd. Marcus and Margot were fretting over Juliet, who was quick to shoo them away as she sat up.
The Nord was quick to check her over. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he took her pulse.
"Rested," she replied.
"Mentally?" He summoned a small ball of light in his hand, waving it in front of her eyes. Several people gasped behind him, but Juliet herself merely flinched.
"A little annoyed, to be frank," she said with a wheezing laugh.
"This is just to make sure your brain's alright," Johan said, moving it to the other eye.
"What's a brain?" a child quickly asked before an adult could shush them.
"It's the organ inside your head that allows you to move and think." The child 'ahhd' lightly, falling silent. He finished his examination, handing her a cup of water, "Well, everything seems to be in order. Hungry?"
"Starving, actually." More than a few people started to stomp away, no doubt to prepare meals for everyone.
"Wait!" Johan called out. He rose from the bed, grabbing a book from the table. 'Recuperation: Heart Attacks' it read. Part of a series of medical treatments written by, of all races, an Argonian named Swims-Too-Deep sometime in the late third era. He opened the book, flipping through it. "Let's see…ah!" He ran his finger along the page as he read aloud. "For the next month, at least, the patient should have a mainly vegetable and fruit diet. They can have solids, but stews are preferable. Also, make sure the patient avoids salt, sugar, and cuts back on meat—pork especially, but don't give them anything with too much fat or grease. Chicken is fine, so long as it doesn't have skin. Patient may eat fish and eggs in small servings." He stopped himself there, because the rest of the passage detailed Alchemical ingredients that, though helpful, did not exist in this world.
"I'm sorry," Margot said with a brief chuckle, "Are you saying that we need to peel off chicken skin?" Johan nodded slightly, "But that's such a waste!"
"I'm more concerned about the salt thing," Juliet mumbled.
Johan grimaced, "Yes, that doesn't sound pleasant." He flipped through a couple more pages, "Thankfully, there's a number of recipes here for you to follow." Unfortunately, a number of those recipes required Alchemy ingredients that did not exist in this world…but, upon thinking on it, he had a solution to that problem. Later, though.
He closed the book with an audible SNAP, causing several people to flinch, "Tell you what, I'll help you make the first meal. And after that…I think the younger children could do with some playtime. Alleviate a bit of the sour mood from the last couple days," he said this with a cocked brow.
The adults—and a few of the older children—in the room caught on quickly enough and hurriedly ushered everyone out of the room. Leaving only himself, Juliet, and a ruffled Louise (who was unfortunate enough to be standing by the door during the exodus). The young mage was still, wide-eyed, for a moment, before straightening her clothes, coughing into her hand, and bidding him and Juliet goodbye.
Johan turned back to the desk, cleaning up his books. Juliet then asked, "Ready to answer the no doubt hundreds of questions we all have for you?"
"Highly doubt it'll be hundreds," the Nord said with a light smirk as he closed the portal to Oblivion. "Rather, hundreds similar questions which have the same answers. If I had to guess," he paused for a second, "there will be twelve unique questions."
"Hm," Juliet sniffed, "Have a comeback for everything, don't you?"
"It's one of my many skills," he said, puffing his chest slightly. They were silent for a moment, before breaking off into short chortles. "Feel up to walking?" he then asked.
She sighed, slowly pushing off her blanket, "Might as well." Johan nodded, striding over to help her, grabbing her cane as he did so.
As he helped her onto her feet, he said, "By the way, you seem much more cognizant than the last few days."
"You've noticed too?" she said with a toothy smile. "I will admit, a lot of the fog has cleared. Wish I didn't have to give up salt as a consequence," she grumbled.
He hummed thoughtfully, "Well, you don't have to follow the treatment plan." She stared up at him quizzically, "You could easily ignore it and live on as you had. Course, you likely won't live for too long."
The elderly woman looked down thoughtfully. "…No," she said, lifting her head up, determined, "No, I won't do that. The last thing we need right now is to bury me." She chuckled wheezily, "So much has happened in so little time, I'm afraid people might start cracking under the weight."
"Sound logic," Johan replied with a smile.
Line Break
The food—a vegetable stew made of mostly carrots—specially made for Juliet wasn't very good. At least, Louise had to assume so, given the way everyone's face scrunched up when they tasted it. The woman herself didn't complain, however. Upon her first taste she merely cocked a brow and continued on.
Breakfast proved to be a tense affair. The adults alternated between staring worriedly at Juliet—who made of point of staring back—and anxiously at Johan—who cheerfully ignored them as he ate an assortment of fruit. Even the younger children—normally rambunctious and loud—were quiet. The older children, bar Siesta (who knew more than her similarly-aged kin) were just confused.
"Yeesh, you'd think someone died," Derflinger whispered, laying against Johan's seat.
"Someone almost did," Johan smoothly replied.
"…Fair enough. But still—"
"Quiet," Johan suddenly said as multiple sets of eyes started to stare at them. Louise looked out at the crowd, noting that everyone had finished their meals—or at the very least, wasn't eating anymore.
Johan abruptly stood up, "Who wants a new toy?" he exclaimed, staring at the children. Silence. Until one brave soul hesitantly raised her hand. Johan's smile grew wider, and with a snap of his fingers, opened a portal to Oblivion. Then, he stuck his head and arms through it. Not even Louise was able to hold back the gasp tearing through her throat. She didn't know a lot about Oblivion, but surely, breathing in whatever passed for air there couldn't be healthy.
Their worries turned out to be for naught, however, when he pulled back, none the worse for wear. In his hands, a wooden dragon. A well-made item, colored with various reds and oranges, a line of triangular spikes along its back, its legs, wings, tail, and head able to move about freely.
The girl, Sandy, Louise could recall. Slowly made her way forward, arms hesitantly stretched out. Johan bent down, eagerly giving her the toy. She smiled upon grabbing it, freely bending and moving it in the air. Johan then held a finger up, gently grabbing the dragon and pointing it upward. He forced its jaw open and pressed on a spine in the middle. Suddenly, there was a soft SPROING and a bright red block of wood shot out from its mouth. Sandy gasped in delight, awe-struck as Johan grabbed the projectile, replacing it into the toy's jaw and handing it back.
At that point, the rest of the children rushed forward, either clamoring for the toy, or badgering Johan for their own. The man chuckled, reaching back into the portal, pulling out a chest; no doubt filled with similar items. He gently dropped it into the waiting arms of Seth, who gleefully ran outside, the rest of his kin hot on his heels.
Johan cleared his throat, "Someone should watch them, make sure they don't poke any eyes out."
Marcus stood up then, barking out orders for the rest of the children to follow their younger siblings and cousins. All except Siesta, at least. But if any of them found it odd, they didn't say or do anything.
It was only after the children had left that Johan's smiling face dipped into a neutral frown. He sat back down with a sigh, clasping his hands in front of him. It was then that Louise could see his age; not, she mused with a short laugh, that she knew how old he actually was. There were a lot of things about him she didn't know. An alarming number of things, actually. She grimaced; Founder above, had she really just entered into a carriage with some strange old man based on his word that he was an instructor? That's the kind of thing horror stories were made of. Granted, it all turned out well, terrifically well, but still…
"There are two facts and two speculations." He said, bringing Louise's attention back to the present. "The facts involve your family history. One speculation relates to the beast that I've slain, and the other relates to your family's…unusual physical prowess."
"Why're Siesta and Louise here?" Lou suddenly said. He smiled apologetically when the pair looked offended, "Er, nothing against you two, of course. But we sent all the other kids away, and you," he gestured to Louise, "aren't family." Well, she couldn't fault him for that.
"They did help kill that…thing, dear," his wife, May, said hesitantly.
"Actually, they almost got themselves killed in their rush to 'assist' me," the mage smirked somewhat grimly, "but I do appreciate their efforts nonetheless." His smile faded slightly, and he firmly stated, "They're staying." Several people began to fidget in place but said nothing in reply.
Marcus cleared his throat, "Er, you said you had some facts?"
"Yes." Johan sighed, leaning forward and propping his chin on his left hand. He waved his right one lazily, "The beast that lay adjacent to your family's crypt, what you've all labelled as the 'Cairn' was not, in fact, a dragon." He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "It was actually a creature known as a Daedra—specifically, a Daedric Titan. A type of demon." A deep, heavy silence followed this revelation.
"A-A-A-A Demon," Marcus stuttered fearfully. That broke the dam. Everyone started to clamor over the other. Fear, anger, relief, confusion. All sorts of emotions boiling over and spilling out everywhere.
"Siesta," Louise focused on Jessie, who was staring suspiciously at her daughter, "you don't look too freaked out over this." She shifted her gaze over to Louise, "Neither do you."
The din started to quiet as everyone turned to stare at them. The suspicion in their eyes briefly reminded Louise of her classmates back at the Academy. But, these stares were merely curious, lacking the tinge of vicious mocking she was used to.
Siesta spoke first, "I asked Louise about the demon last night."
"Yes. I don't know all that much, but I told her that it was, actually, a demon."
"And why didn't you mention this to any of us earlier?" Alan asked with a raised brow.
"That would be my fault," Johan said before either she or Siesta could reply. "Didn't want them to fill your heads with incomplete information."
"Alright," Alan crossed his arms, "anything else you can tell us about this demon? Like why it wasn't dead? Why it woke up now of all times?"
"Ah, well that leads on to the second fact of the day. And the first speculation." He cleared his throat, "Now, I'm sure you're all aware that Rowley was not a native of Tristain." Everyone nodded. "However, he was not, as some of you have theorized, from Germania either." Someone, Margot, opened her mouth to speak, but Johan cut her off, "Nor was he from Albion, or Romalia, or Gallia."
"…Another continent, then?" Marcus asked slowly.
His reply was a slow shake of the head. "He came from another world—another dimension, if you understand the concept—entirely."
Louise's eyes widened considerably; a much more subdued reaction compared to the ring of shocked gasps around her. She wanted to just write off his statement as a jest, but she knew better than that. Oblivion existed, after all.
Yet, there was something off; not with the revelation, but the way he relayed it. She'd thought that he'd be far more excited about it. His face split in a permanent smile at the knowledge of finding out other worlds with humans both existed and could be travelled to. But he just looked weary; and even that was mostly directed at the people shouting over each other at him.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Sylvia yelled above the rest. "Not that you haven't proven trustworthy, Johan, but how can we believe you about this?"
"Well, your grandfather admits as much in his journals." He placed a weathered journal on the table, showing off strange, unreadable letters.
Juliet reached forward, pulling the journal close and running a hand gently along it. "For the sake of argument, how do we even know you can read this?" An apt question, Louise thought. She never had an interest in languages, but those letters were like nothing she'd ever seen.
"Actually, Ma," Sylvia spoke up, "he was able to read the gravestones at the Cairn." The elderly matriarch hummed lightly, eyeing the journal.
Johan cleared his throat, "You wed Richard on July 14, 6020." At Juliet's widened stare, he added, "You wore your mother's earrings—silver hoops—and a gold necklace Rowley bought as a wedding gift for you."
All eyes turned to Juliet, who slowly closed the journal. "Alright, you can read it."
Suddenly, it clicked. Louise gasped, abruptly rising from her seat. She pointed grandly at Johan, shouting "You're from another world as well; the same world as Rowley!" She snapped her fingers, "That's why I've never heard of your type of magic; it literally didn't exist until you arrived!"
Her master smiled brightly, "Very good Louise! What tipped you off?"
"The language, actually." She sat back down, starting intently at her master, "If Rowley were indeed from another world, and you can read the language he writes, then it stands to reason that you have to be from the same world." She furrowed her brow, turning to Juliet "But, wait, he spoke the Common Tongue, didn't he? You," she turned back to Johan,"speak the Common Tongue."
"Well, the language he wrote his journals in belong to an ancient dialect that is only used by traditionalists. Not to mention the fact that he was born was at least five hundred years before myself."
"What?" Derflinger flatly asked.
"Time's much less linear than we'd like to believe," Johan said dismissively. He then smirked widely, "But it is odd, isn't it? That our 'Common' languages are the same." The mage let out short chuckled, "The Divines are…funny, that way."
"Divines?" someone asked.
"The gods of my homeland. I suppose they could be considered your gods too," he said thoughtfully. At the skeptical stares, he added, "Hey, don't brush them off so easily." He snorted derisively, "They're certainly more involved than this land's god."
"Hey," Louise said warningly. She should have felt annoyed that no one else was offended, but Commoner's never really held to the Founder and the Church as fervently as Nobles. Regardless, even in the midst of all this absurdity, she would not idly let him mock her religion.
"It's not a jest," he said defensively, "By all accounts, the Founder stopped directly interfering with mortal affairs some two-hundred years after his ascension. In Tamriel—the continent myself and Rowley hail from—there are multiple well-documented cases of the Divines personally impacting the mortal plane from the beginning or mortal life to as recently as…thirty years ago."
"Baseless coincidence, you mean?" Louise said with a slight sneer.
"True. Tales," he said with a bit of force, face split in a wide smile.
"Alright then," Louise leaned forward, "Where's your proof?"
"Um," Siesta hesitantly interrupted, "Not that this isn't a…fun topic, but can we get back to our family?"
Johan waved her down, "In a moment; this is actually related to all that anyhow." The two mages ignored the bewildered looks surrounding them.
"Proof," Louise demanded.
Her master simply leaned back, gesturing to himself. "You're looking at him."
She stared blankly at him for a moment. She then frowned, "What, did your Divines save your life as an infant?"
He laughed heartily, "No, but you're not too far off the mark."
Louise laughed in turn, "What, they're the reason you were born in the first place?" She laughed harder, pausing only when she took notice of the gleam in his eyes. She grimaced, "You cannot be serious."
"I'm afraid I have to take her side on this one, Boss," Derflinger spoke up for the first time in the conversation (Louise tried not to get offended at his pained tone of voice). "I mean, I'm a talking sword with a sense of smell, but…" he trailed off.
Johan didn't say anything in reply, though his smile did grow wider. He then looked to the side and took a deep breath. Only to slowly, anticlimactically, release that breath. He looked over to Juliet. "Do you think you can handle a bit of a fright?"
"Depends, will this fright try and kill me?" the old woman drawled.
He paused, humming in thought. "…No," he slowly said, "No, I think not."
Juliet narrowed her eyes slightly. She then shrugged, "Go on then." Johan nodded, and once more, took a deep breath.
"HUN!"
His voice came out as a breathy shout, but Louise could feel the table shake, as though he'd slammed his body against it. Then, a portal appeared within the room. But not a purple portal that linked to Oblivion. No, this portal was pale-white, thin rays of golden light seeping out from within. She idly noted several shrieks of fright.
Then, a woman stiffly stepped out from the portal. A spirit, given her translucent, blue body. Her hair—whatever its true color was—rested at her shoulder, which was covered—along with the rest of her body—in a sturdy set of steel armor. Louise made a face when she saw three long, jagged gashes upon her stern face, over her eyes and lips, and a second later was relieved to see her eyes blink, and her lips shift; some sort of tattoo, then (a terrible one, in her opinion).
The spirit turned to Johan, and her posture relaxed, lips thinning into a soft grin. "Dragonborn," she said, her voice echoing unnaturally, "it is good to see you are safe." Her face then morphed into a heavy scowl. "But I would like to know why you waited so long to call upon one of us."
If Johan was worried about the spirit's ire, he hid it well. He instead scoffed, waving his hand at her, "Durnehviir knows, and through him everyone that can be of actual assistance to my return to Tamriel."
That did nothing to appease the spirit. She stood straighter, scowl widening. "That's no excuse, Dragonborn." Louise wondered what that title meant. He did admit to living among dragons for a time, perhaps it was a term of respect?
"Oh, so Tsun and Shor are willing to breach the border between realms and bring me home?" The spirit flinched, and Johan pressed, "Are they, Gormlaith?"
"…Shor, through Tsun, has officially written off the matter as beyond our concern," the now-named Gormlaith bitterly admitted. Johan hummed, smug. She then cast her gaze to the rest of the people in the room, "And who are they?" she asked with a cocked brow.
"A very nice group of people I need to prove something to. Well," he briefly pointed to Louise, "prove something to her. I get the feeling my word alone would have sufficed for the rest of them."
"It would have," Jessie managed to squeak.
"What point, Dragonborn?" Gormlaith said exasperatedly.
He smiled grandly, "Could you please inform Louise, and everyone else while you're at it, what 'Dragonborn' means?"
She cocked a brow, "Could you not do the same?"
"I concur," Louise suddenly spoke up. "Master," she leaned towards him, "why summon a dead woman to tell me something when you could easily do so yourself."
"Because you won't believe me," he stated simply.
"Master…" she said, hurt. They'd been through so much together; she'd learned so many things thanks to him.
"Oh," he groaned, frowning, "Don't be like that! It's nothing against you, truly. It's just…frankly the truth is so outlandish, that most anyone in their right mind, especially one with your historical and religious background, would not believe me." He gestured to Gormlaith, "She's just…assurance, that what I'm telling you is the truth."
"So…what, spirits cannot lie?" Louise asked, skeptical.
"They can, actually."
Before Louise could throw her hands up in frustration, the spirit said. "Tell me, child. Do you believe that the Dragonborn would waste the time summoning a spirit from beyond the mortal plane, only to train it to lie for him?"
Louise had to consider that. Would he? Johan was an eccentric, powerful man. He was intelligent, a genius, even. He liked to laugh, sometimes at her expense. He was also devious; able to kill men and dispose of their remains in such a way that no one would suspect him. But would he do something so lengthy for something so…petty?
Eventually, she answered, "No, I do not believe he would."
Gormlaith smirked lightly. "Dragonborn," she began, "is a term reserved for those blessed by Akatosh." Louise recalled that to be one of the names for the draconic god of time. "A being with the body of a mortal, and the soul of a dragon."
The old Louise would have exploded into a rage at such a revelation; the Church taught that Humans, even Commoners, were above beasts. To claim to have the soul of a dragon was both blasphemy and an admittance to being less than human.
Currently, Louise narrowed her eyes, staying silent. Contemplating her next words. What did it mean, to have the soul of a dragon?
Derflinger broke the silence, "So…one of your parents was a dragon?"
Johan laughed heartily, "No, my mother and father were wholly human—well, technically," he added beneath his breath.
"Wait, wha—"
"One earth-shattering topic at a time," Johan quickly interrupted him. He then turned back to Louise, grinning, "I can hear the gears in your head turning. What are you thinking, mal lahzey?"
"…When you say 'dragon', can I assume that you mean 'Dovah'?" He nodded. "Then you…having this draconic soul relates to their language. The Thum?"
"Thu'um," he corrected her, "and yes, it does. It allows me to more easily learn the language. What takes most men years, takes me weeks at most."
"Why?" Louise was aware that they were drifting further and further away from Siesta's family, but if she was going to be forced down this…ludicrous path, she was going to learn all she could.
"Dovah have an innate understanding of the Thu'um; it's ingrained in their very souls. They were born with the ability. Since I bear such a soul, I too have an innate understanding of the language."
Louise rolled her eyes, "Okay, sure. But what makes those souls special?" She gestured grandly at him, "You said that the Thuum—"
"Thu'um."
Louise narrowed her eyes as her master grinned impishly, "You said that it allows one to alter reality. Originally, I assumed it be a skill Dovah had developed, but if it's innate, then what makes them special."
"Because they are children of Akatosh, child," Gormlaith answered.
Louise blinked. "Oh…that makes sense."
"It does?!" Siesta blurted out.
"Yes." She turned to her friend, "According to Johan, Akatosh is a draconic deity. Just as the Founder favors Nobles, it makes sense for him to favor dragons, to bless them with a special gift to set them apart." She returned her attention to Johan, "So, what? After living with them for so long, they used their magic to alter your very soul?"
Idly, Louise could see some of Siesta's—and a few of the adults in the room—confusion clear up (and then immediately return upon her second statements). Only for Johan to say, "That's…not quite true." She turned to him with a furrowed brow. He then said, "They are literally his children; Akatosh split off pieces of his Divine soul and molded them into Dovah."
Well, that changed things. To make the claim of a dragon to be divine was—her mind froze, as she just realized the implication of his statement. She rose to her feet slamming her hands on the table. "Hold on," she shouted above the startled cries of Siesta's family, "A…Are you claiming that you…you…" she couldn't say it. It was too outlandish to even think of.
"Yes, Louise. To be Dragonborn—or as the Dovah say, DOVAHKIIN," his voice came out in a deep, thunderous rumble, "is to bear an Aedric soul, granted by Akatosh upon birth."
"Y-Y-Y-You" Marcus said with a fearful quiver, "are a god?"
"Half-god. Well," Johan stroked his beard thoughtfully, "maybe not quite half. At least a third." As more than a few people (Louise chief among them) started to clamor once more, Johan abruptly held his hands up, "Can I assume that you all believe my words to be true."
Louise stayed silent as everyone else hesitantly said 'yes'. When all eyes turned to her, she gulped. "I…do not believe you to be a liar, Master." Yes, she most certainly believed that he held his words to be true. She could accept the existence of other worlds, other gods, dragons with the ability to manipulate reality, even. But demigods…no. Not yet, at least.
He stared at her for a moment, smiling softly. He then cleared his throat, "Right. So, back to how this is relevant to you all." He looked down bashfully, "Namely that it's my fault that the Daedric Titan rose up yesterday."
"What?!" Louise jumped; she'd almost forgotten Gormlaith was still in the room. The spirit shot her arm forward, grabbing Johan by the beard and forcibly turning him towards her. "You faced a Daedric Titan?! Alone?!"
"First of all, ow. Second of all, it really wasn't any trouble."
"Not that!" Gormlaith shouted. "You know I've always wanted to whet my blade against one of those abominations!" Louise paled. She what?
"Trust me, you'd be left wanting."
The spirit growled, only to pause as her form started to shimmer. She stepped back, looking down at her body confusedly, "What the…I still have more time."
"Durnheviir's time was cut short as well," Johan said, brushing his beard back into place. "Has to be the relative distance between the realms."
Gormlaith scowled, "Well, be sure to call me back soon bec—" The spirit disappeared with a soft pop.
"Where'd she go?" Siesta asked.
"Back to Sovngarde—the Nord afterlife. No no no," he said, curtailing the budding questions on everyone's lips, "not now. I'd like to get through the rest of my points before the hour is up." He drummed his fingers against the table, "Where was I?"
"It's your fault we almost died?" Juliet dryly stated.
Before Johan could reply, Marcus blurted out, "How can you be so calm about all this?!"
"No sense making fusses over all this chaos we can't control," she said sagely. "Best we can do is learn what we can, and plan afterwards." Marcus sighed raggedly, but relaxed a touch nonetheless.
"Wise words," Johan said with a smile. "Anyway; Daedric Titans were specifically made with the intention to mock Dovah, and being a lesser Daedra," Louise almost laughed at the idea that such a creature could be classified as 'lesser', "it holds an instinctual, all-encompassing, irrational hatred for Aedra." He gestured to himself with a wry smile, "Lucky me for hosting an Aedric soul."
"But, why was it…hibernating?"
"I'd classify it as comatose, but best I can figure the manner in which it travelled to this world was very damaging and it passed out by necessity of survival."
"So, why'd grandpa survive?" Sylvia asked.
At that, Johan lazily said, "Luck. Divine Intervention. Sheer force of will. His Mortal soul was less vulnerable to the chaotic magic that teleported him than the Titan's Daedric soul. Pick one." His short list was met with annoyed glares, but he shrugged them off. "But I'd like to focus on a far more interesting subject regarding your family."
"Something more interesting than the fact that our grandfather is from another world?" Margot asked with a faint laugh.
"Yes," came Johan's blunt reply. "The, frankly, absurd strength everyone that bears Rowley's blood seems to possess."
Marcus cocked a brow, "Is this the part where you tell us that it's some strange ability inherent to people from your world?" Louise doubted that was the case. Not only did Johan not have such abilities, but he too was astonished by their physical prowess.
"Oh, no. Your strength comes from magic."
Louise found herself choking on air. She idly noted Siesta hurriedly rubbing her back in an effort to soothe her, but mostly ignored that in favor of glaring at her master. "What?" she asked forcefully.
"Magic. Albeit a subliminal form of it."
"We…we're mages?" Siesta asked breathlessly.
"No," Johan answered. "Well…actually, I don't know. Would have to run a couple tests—but odds are at least one of you can cast magic."
"Hold on just a moment!" Louise shouted, one more rising from her seat. "Now, I'm willing to," she grimaced, "ponder a great many of the things you've told us today. But this—Commoners being able to use magic—it's heresy of the highest order!" She punctuated her words by slamming her open palms against the table.
Her master regarded her coolly, "Oh, mal lahzey, have you not learned anything under my tutelage? There's much more to life than what lies within your sight." Louise opened her mouth to retort, but he silenced her with a wave of the hand, "Save your breath, Louise. I won't debate with you at this time."
She snarled silently, but returned to her seat nonetheless. She felt a hand gently envelop her own and turned to see Siesta staring at her. Her dark eyes shone with bewilderment, but there was concern there too. Louise selfishly chose to believe that concern was solely focused on her and let it soothe her.
Johan nodded at her, and then turned back to the others. "In my homeland, the stars weave thirteen constellations. These constellations confer blessings upon children born under them. Rowley was born under 'The Steed', known to grant blessings of strength and vigor."
"So that's the reason we can…" Alan trailed off, but he lifted the table a few inches off the ground with one hand.
"You'd think so, but not really."
More than a few people, Louise included, groaned at his words. "Enough with the word games!" Sylvia spat. "Say it plainly."
"Sorry, sorry," Johan said in a not at all sorry tone, "old habits. Eh…point is, no. At most, The Steed gifts people with above-average stamina—even if they allow themselves to grow fat and lazy, they can outpace most other men. Not the ability to lift tables with one hand or move bales of hay as if they were toys."
"Then why?"
Johan was silent for a moment. "In Tamriel," he slowly began, "magic flows through all; the people, the wind, the ground. Magic is everywhere. Even if you cannot use it—such as Rowley—it is still ingrained in your mind, body, and soul. By contrast, Halkeginia is a land where magic is sparse, and zealously guarded." Louise wanted to dispute his words; that Halkeginia was a land brimming—overflowing—with magic. But alas, Commoners existed. "A land where there are people born with not one spark of magic within their bodies. Rowley's wife, Laura, was one such person." He drummed his fingers against the table, silent. No doubt waiting to see if someone would ask a question or try and piece something together.
Louise, the only one with sufficient knowledge, but lacking the care to put it all together, said, "Get to the point, Master."
He just smiled. "Sorry. Habits." He drew his hand back, dropping it against his lap, "In Tamriel, the constellations' blessings do not pass from parent to child. No one can truly say why, but over the years scholars have posited that the reason is that the parents blessings cancel each other out. Leaving the child free to gain the blessing of whichever stars are shining overhead. Experiments have been proposed to test this hypothesis, but no one's ever had the…heart to see one through." Louise shivered at his dark tone and darker eyes. "Regardless, you folk seem to prove it right. Albeit to a far greater extent than anyone over thought. But that may be due to the fact that, again, the complete absence of magic Laura's body." He raised his hand, magic glowing within the palm. There a shimmer in the air above him, and a wooden box full of books dropped onto it. "These are some books on the various subjects I've touched upon; Dovah, the stars, Tamriel in general. Read them. We'll discuss more when I come back."
"You're leaving?" Marcus asked incredulously as Johan rose to his feet.
"Yes. Not for long. I just need to borrow the nearest forge." He paused, "Tarbes has one, right?"
"It's run by a family friend." Juliet answered. She then asked, "Why?"
"I mean to create and then enchant jewelry—rings, bangles, necklaces—for your protection."
Louise felt Siesta's grip tighten. "What do we need protection from?" her friend asked.
Johan sighed wearily, "Far, far, too many things. Oh!" he stopped just before leaving the room, turning around, "inform the children at your discretion." And with that, he was gone.
Louise ignored the irate shouts of the adults around her in favor of staring at the box before her. She'd certainly heard a lot…strange claims in such a short amount of time.
She could follow him, she mused. It would certainly be easier and faster than reading a bunch of books and waiting for him to return. But he was heading to a forge; and though she'd only ever visited one forge, when she was a child, she could recall that it was a hot and messy place, and she didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else.
Thus, ignoring the din surrounding her, she pulled the box closer, and grabbed one of the books on top. 'The Dovah of Tamriel'' it read. She opened it up, frowning at the author's name. 'Ysmir', it read. Just the one name; no surname, no titles. Not even a dedication to a school or person. But still, Master Johan wouldn't have chosen the book if it were worthless. She supposed it would just be another thing to ask him upon his return.
It was then that she noticed that the room had grown quiet. She looked up, meeting the blank stares with a soft glare. Wordlessly, she slid the box to the center of the table and returned to the book.
It read:
'Dovah, otherwise known as Dragons, are creatures surrounded by mystery and heresy. Some say they are evil; others, good. They are either cruel heralds of death or are as 'overtly malicious' as a hurricane sweeping across the shore. They want to rule over mortals as if they were gods, or they merely wish to be left alone.
The truth, as always, is much more complex than it would appear.'
"Um, Louise?" The young mage lifted her head, cocking a brow at the sheepish look on Siesta's face. Her friend pointed to her book, which Louise could see was titled, 'Atmorans: A Study'. She asked, "What's this word mean?"
Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Louise leaned forward, quickly finding the word in question. "'Genealogical'. It relates to bloodlines—you know, tracing them to find ancestors and such."
Siesta hummed in understanding, returning her attention to the book. Louise noticed that she stuck the tip of her tongue out as she concentrated.
"On your left," Derflinger suddenly said. Louise turned around, face falling at the sight of several sheepish faces, along with several open books.
She sighed, rising to her seat. "Alright, alright. Everyone stay put." She quickly stymied any attempts to apologize; not their fault they didn't have vocabularies as extensive as hers.
Line Break
"I have need of your forge," Johan said as he slammed the door to the blacksmith's shop open.
The man behind the counter flinched, but quickly plastered a smile on his face. "Certainly, Sir. We have a variety of—"
"You misunderstand," Johan said as he reached the counter. "I need to use your forge."
At that, the man frowned, "Er…me and my sons are more than capable of—"
Johan tossed a bag full of coin onto the counter, cutting him off. Some of the money spilled out, glinting in the light. The man froze, eyes widening. He looked up to him, then back to the bag. He lifted a trembling hand, "F-F-Forge is right through there."
The Nord grunted wordlessly, gently brushing past the man and entering the forge. Once inside, he took off his cloak, swapping it for the apron that hung off a nearby rack. The forge itself was dim, so as he went about setting it up, he opened a portal to Oblivion. "Get me the jewelry molds, and gold, silver, steel, and iron ingots. 20 each."
"Iron and steel?" the Dremora asked in genuine curiosity.
"Young boys tend to sneer and scoff at gifts of gold and silver."
"Alright then," it said as it delivered the requested items.
The man thanked the demon, and set to work, laying out the molds and deciding to start with the gold first. He figured it'd take at least an hour to go through each type of metal. And another hour to enchant everything. That'd be plenty of time for everyone to read through at least one book each.
He just thanked Kynareth that he got remembered to get rid of any books that referenced elves and the beast races. That was a bag of cats that he didn't want to open with so many people around. It would get out eventually—they deserved to know the whole truth of their forefather's homeland—but he wanted the chance to pacify Louise first before he told everyone else. Nothing against the girl, but if her vehement reaction to even a passing mention of elves was the norm, then he'd have a lot of work to do.
A/N: Just when I think I'm out of Tarbes, it grabs me by the ankles and pulls me back in. Be sure to leave a review. Later.