When Hans first donned the armor, he felt the weight of the metal, the tautness of the leather as it clung to him, and the way it hindered his body making every movement unnatural. While he had worn armor before, it was more or less for ceremonial purposes and meant to be decoration for one of his Brothers' wedding. The irony for Hans is that this armor, this battle-tested armor, enchanted, and sacred armor is more decorative and extravagant than the one he was only meant to look royal and important. That festive armor was light and impractical, but for some reason, the armor given to him by Miraak's Lord seems lighter—it seems to hinder and encumber him less. After all, it helped him maneuver during the battle against the Dragonpriest. A battle he nearly lost. Luckily, Hans pulled through. He couldn't be any more relieved that he was the one to slay the detestable creature. Had it been the Ebony Dragon, Hans would surely have lost the opportunity to receive the power he did. So far, the promise for the strength given to him by Miraak is true. This is the second creature he fought and killed and each one seemed to give him power beyond his understanding. Maybe he doesn't need to understand a whole lot except kill a Dragonpriest, gain power. A simple enough concept and something that Hans has very little complaints towards it. Maybe he'll gain the ability to summon creatures that will help him endure the harsh and eventful treks he is sure to take—if Ahna had taught him how to conjure creatures for the purpose of riding them before she died then Hans wouldn't be grumbling to himself about how much he hates the places his allies choose to reside.
"It's done," Hans states proudly after he pushes the door open, shutting it behind him to shun the abhorring cold away.
A few of the zealots turned his direction, while many keep their head down, whispering amongst each other. The feeling that Hans got was a combination of shock and fear—afraid of what exactly, Hans can only guess has something to do with Thiera who is walking through the crowd of robed cultists with evident anger in every step.
"Had you not taken so long we would not have taken the casualties that we did."
"Ahna knew what she was getting into more than I did," to his own surprise, Hans snaps back almost immediately, "it wasn't my fault she couldn't save herself."
For a moment, Thiera allowed her appalled expression to be recognized by everyone in the room. For a woman who gained her reputation by the way she uses the Arcane arts with efficiency and cruelty, it was definitely an expression out of character. It didn't last long however and when she pull her hood down, Hans barely noticed that the strange insignia ingrained on her bald head; all he could focus on is the supreme disgust obvious through the energy emanating from her eyes.
"You miserable, unworthy insect! Do not forget who you owe your life to!"
Thiera's violent tone is momentarily accompanied by a few gasps and frightened movement from the Zealots. The Prince of the Southern Isles immediately sees what causes the frightened responses and he finds himself taking a few steps backward as the sight of the Lurrgam catches his attention. For the most part, Hans has gotten used to seeing Orcs—in some sense, he has gotten used to their battle hungry attitudes and their intimidating features, so seeing Lurrgam wouldn't normally cause this much fright. But the fact that Lurrgam is walking towards Hans mindlessly as if he's hungry for a meal is something to dread. And judging by Lurrgam's pace, he doesn't intend on stopping so with that, Hans reacts by drawing his blade out.
"I'd stand back if I were you!" Hans threatens but Lurrgam continues. "What is wrong with you?"
There were many things wrong with the Orsimer that is obvious with the naked eyes. If Hans wasn't mistaken, Lurrgam seemed to have gone through a battle and the end result wasn't to his favor. In fact, it's more than obvious that it was a skirmish gone wrong. Part of his armor is burned off, thus his skin receiving the same damage. The wound he has on his throat along with the deep gash on his leg that is causing him to limp should be reasons for the Orc to not have the strength to stand, much more have the incentive to stalk towards Hans like a hungry beast. Something is amiss, that much Hans can conclude, but he has to fight, otherwise, Lurrgam is going to inflict pain that the Prince isn't willing to endure.
"Have it your way," Hans proudly states as he meets Lurrgam blade first, slashing at the Orc's midsection. Thanks to the armor partially singed off, Hans has plenty of options, attacking the back of the leg immediately after he struck the body. Those alone should have evoked a reaction of pain, but the Orc just grunted before turning back around and continues to reach for Hans. "Keep your space! I'm warning you! Thiera, tell him to back off or else!"
Of course, he would have no aid from the Dark Elf woman. Thiera merely raised her arm and signaled the feral Lurrgam to continue his attack. Letting out another groan that is hindered by the wound on his throat, the Orsimer charges at Hans once more, this time, his speed greater than before, undeterred by his fatal injuries that he received before and even the ones that Hans inflicted on him.
"Enough."
Immediately right after that word resonates within the temple, something causes the Orc to collide into the closest wall before bursting into flames, causing the once proud and strong Orsimer to be nothing but a pile of ash. The force that destroyed Lurrgam was power that Hans recognizes—in fact, he experienced it not too long ago from the Ebony Dragon.
"Miraak!"
If there was one thing that Hans can just assume about Miraak is that he is a being with command presence. Just by the very whisper of his name, his followers stand rigid, intimidated that they might disrespect their master's name if they do not respond with such formality. When someone yells his name, more so if someone like Thiera, a sorceress who holds rank calls Miraak's name with a frightened tone, then everyone in the room shows their reverence tenfold. The Zealots clear a path as they bow their heads and humbly, Thiera does the same.
"Are you teaching the Prince how to fare well against his destined enemy, Thiera?" he asks with an eerie calmness to him.
"I… I am…"
"You are unbecoming," Miraak speaks over Thiera's stuttering, forcing the Dunmer to bite her tongue. "You can find another bedmate, can you not? Or have you developed an attachment for the fool Lurrgam?"
That statement, although nonsensical in the grand scheme of things, poked at Hans' curiosity for a moment before focusing on the Dunmer's reaction to Miraak. One can tell that she wanted to react in anger, something that she seems to have the leeway to do, but even she knows her place in front of Miraak. Biting her tongue and lowering herself, even more, she takes a few steps back, acknowledging her mishap. A moment after Thiera puts herself in place, Miraak then focuses his attention back at Hans. Still full of adrenaline, the Prince almost forgot to sheathe his blade before bowing himself.
"Come, Prince," Miraak place his hand on Hans' shoulder causing the Southern Isles Prince to shudder at the contact, " we have much to discuss. The Lord's plans changed."
Despite Hans' hesitance, he has to follow. With how Miraak (and basically everyone) treats Hans, he knows he is just a pawn in their plans. In fact, more than once, Miraak had stated that he had a role to play so best he play it to the fullest. Any scheming that Hans may have had in secrecy had also been called out by the strange, half reptile-like man so Hans truly has to be as careful as he can. Being compliant, absorbing every bit of power they offer, and learning more about this world is something that Hans can't completely rule out as a bad thing.
"When will I be worthy to stand in front of the Lord himself?" even if Hans wasn't exactly the ideal storybook Prince, he still retains some of that pride and entitled attitude. Of course, the nature of the question could be perceived as intrusive and he might regret it any moment now.
"Do not fool yourself to think that you will ever be worthy," Miraak responds after a chuckle, "because you will not be. Furthermore, the Lord only speaks to Wulfgar."
Strangely enough, that thought brought some solace in Hans' confidence just as much as it perplexed him. If what Miraak implied is true, that means that even Miraak himself isn't worthy? Again that thought is baffling and Hans finds himself even more intrigued about this Lord—intrigued and further intimidated.
"Why Wulgar? Is he truly the—"
"No, mortal," Miraak responds aggressively both in tone and in posture. "That man spent decades trying to learn to harness powers that I can master in mere moments. His magic is bestowed by the Lord while I learned and refined my own through the eras."
Confused, Hans pushes the conversation further even if he treads on possibly agitating Miraak even more than he did. "Then why would Wulfgar have the honors of speaking to the Lord directly and not you?"
Miraak did not reply, at least not with words. As a man Hans has quite literally seen as a power figure, there was something about him that seems entirely off, especially with this topic—as if he was sensitive to it. Miraak is a man of pride, that much is obvious, so to not be given an opportunity like speaking to higher powers, Hans can only surmise that it's not sitting well, thus why Miraak feels off. Regardless, Miraak continues to lead Hans as the Southern Isles Prince follows. As they exit the temple, Hans was afraid that they would have to go through the long and dangerous path to reach the top of the mountain, but to his relief, Miraak just seems to simply lead him to the courtyard where lo and behold, Wulfgar himself is waiting. Placed all around him in a circle are more of those strange masks that turns 'normal' people into dangerous "Dragonpriests". Somewhat intimidated by the numbers, Hans isn't exactly keen on the idea of having to fight another one soon, but the idea of strengthening himself is always a good incentive. All eight masks are similar in design but somewhat distinguishable by the color of metal or stone they are made of. Hans can only imagine how much power is seething from within each one; in fact, his body hungers for it.
"The Lord's calling can only be heard by one who is fully driven by madness," Miraak speaks out of nowhere, answering Hans' previous question. "Imagine the insanity of a man who has lived his life in silence, practicing pacifism in a world constantly boiling in wars between mortals, divinity, and the unsacred?"
The cryptic talk did provide Hans some small insight to the man named Wulfgar. He's heard a few of the Zealots call him "Greybeard", and aside from the tattered gray robe that the frail-looking man is wearing, Hans can't quite imagine that it's a fitting name. Perhaps he does have a beard in that same color? It would be silly if that is the reason why Wulfgar has that title.
"Right now I'm imagining that it is time for another one of those masks to take a host to test me?"
"You have one track mind, Prince."
"I felt a portion of the Ebony Dragon's power," Hans momentarily recalls Ahna's death, "I have to have a one track mind if I am going to fulfill my destiny in Skyrim."
There was a moment where Miraak said nothing. Instead, he lets out a short and audible chuckle. "He is a Dovahkiin; the last one. Even if he is but a mere shadow of what a true Dovahkiin should be, he is more than capable. So I applaud you for recognizing your need to grow." Hans could take it as a compliment but it clearly was not. "But the power you seek will demand you to mature even more. These souls of my former brethren cannot fully extract the remaining powers left in these masks if the hosts are too frail."
Hans wanted to get more than simple statements. Miraak, as always, is a bit too cryptic and ambiguous. But when Wulfgar released a word, the moment for questions was over and he has to spend a lot of his time and effort on keeping himself upright due to the force of another unmistakable ritual. And much like the previous rituals that involved the masks, energy beyond Hans' understanding starts to erupt from the headwear, causing them to levitate. With all the masks floating in unison and seething with power, Hans felt his stomach drop, terrified at the idea that he might have to face all these sorcerers all at once and on his own.
"Nir Lahney Aam!"
With Wulfgar's spoken words, more power erupts from the masks, which causes them to glow brighter. "What… is happening?" Hans shouts through the chaos as he looks over at the calm and unfaltering Miraak.
"The fragments of my former colleagues' souls are doing what they have committed to do."
"And… that is?"
"To serve a dragon even after death."
The power surging from each mask starts to impede Hans vision. So bright and potent—resonating with each other, they release a shockwave that knocks Hans completely off his feet. He remains still for a few moments as his whole body is taken over by the energy that leaked from the masks.
"So… much… power…" he mutters in awe, feeling the aftermath even as he starts to sit up. With the process of getting himself upright, Hans notices the aura emanating from the pendant. It fades away before it comes back a moment later. The pattern is erratic and it seems to resemble a heart beating fast. Then with wide eyes, Hans realizes that it is beating like a heart—like his heart.
"And when the proper host is found, you will feel true power. Then your mettle will be tested."
Tests after tests, riddles after riddles. It won't end until these people have squeezed what they need out of Hans. Well, out of him and Elsa. Despite being in opposite side of the line, the Snow Queen and Hans seems to be intertwined within this game that these powerful beings are playing. Rapt in that thought, Hans follows the last sign of the masks as they fade into the distance.
Hearing a strange sound within the darkness, Elsa slowly opens her eyes, waiting for her entire body to respond. Almost immediately after she makes a small movement, Elsa feels a stinging sensation on her right shoulder and it was then that she wished that she didn't rush to try and get to her feet. With her eyes not fully adjusted, Elsa lays still for a moment, allowing the memories of past events come back to her, and it doesn't take long until she remembers what had led to this. Onyx was fighting a 'Dragonpriest' and amidst the chaos, he was attacked and Elsa tried to prevent the arrow from hitting him. It ended with her taking the shot, which explains the pain. The rest seemed to be lost in intervals of more chaos, pain, and Onyx tending to her. Did he? Or was she imagining things? Just then a wave of foreign images starts to flood her mind: the black dragon she had seen in her mind before, a crowd cheering, strange but seemingly friendly people, a beautiful woman speaking and then… a kiss? Then amidst all this, a little girl who is holding her out her arms as if she wants to be picked up… a feeling of warmth and care… and love…
"Pa…pa…"
Flooded by heartfelt emotions, Elsa suddenly finds herself pulled away from her thoughts as she hears footsteps. Fearing the worse, the Snow Queen pushes through the pain and sits up.
"Onyx told me you might be a bit alarmed," with her eyes not completely functional, Elsa can only make out a silhouette of a woman standing in front of her, "while I believed him, I didn't think you would be this defensive. Most people who get attacked out there would be happy to find themselves under a roof and in a warm comfortable bed. That's my bed too, by the way."
There really isn't much she can do but lay still and try to trust the person in front of her. It is still a bit unsettling for Elsa not being able to distinguish between friend or foe on her own; much of that she depends on Onyx and with the Dragonborn seemingly not around, she'll have to depend on her instinct, which isn't much right now. Feeling the presence of the woman get closer, both Elsa and her powers react.
"And I was also made aware of that!"
"I… I apologize, it's just…"
"Been through a lot, I understand, but let me assure you that Onyx would not have brought you here if he didn't trust me. Besides, I can't heal you if I'm preoccupied trying to fend off your peculiar, but a magnificent show of magic, Elsa."
The woman emphasized her name as if that would help ease some of Elsa's fear. In a small way, it did, but the Queen still has every right to feel apprehensive given the situation. Though the statement about Onyx's trust does have some weight in Elsa's decision to use everything she has to try and calm her powers down. It is then when she starts to feel the same warmth that Onyx omitted when he was tending to her. It was a distinct feeling though compared to Onyx's. It's stronger but somehow less exuberant in the emotional aspect.
"Should be better soon. I swear to the Divines that it wouldn't have hurt for Onyx to pay attention to Restoration lessons." As the woman spoke to Elsa, she can feel not only her eyesight return but also her body being rejuvenated by the spell. The feeling of vigor replaces fatigue and the pain of her injury diminished to mere aches. It is nothing short of a miracle and even her emotional state is given respite. "There we are," and with those words, the spell stops almost immediately, "but do take it easy. Having a Daedric Arrow poison your body for the first time might need more rest and rejuvenation on your part to counter it."
While she is not aware of just how long she was out, Elsa can surmise that she had been out for quite some time so sleep is the last thing that she needs to do right now. She knows she has to keep moving; she as to find a way back home and away from this world where she doesn't belong. In order to do that, however, she needs her unorthodox knight in black as night armor. Slowly adjusting her eyes, Elsa takes a glance around, absorbing her surroundings—surprisingly, it is an astonishing and breath-taking place that greets her.
"And welcome to my quarters. I apologize if it's not as tidy as it should be, I was in the middle of studying when I was informed that we had visitors."
The woman calls it 'quarters' but Elsa views it completely differently. She's not entirely sure what to call the place, but it is a combination of a myriad of things and much like a lot of things in Skyrim, it is a culture shock for the Queen of Arendelle. The first thing that Elsa's attention gravitates to is the out of place, but beautiful tree in the middle of the room. A healthy tree in the middle of an indoor quarter may be odd for the norm, but that itself seems relatively normal compared to the way the tree itself seems to radiate energy, almost as if it is casting a spell. And at first, Elsa thought she might just have been hallucinating the light emanating from the tree since it has very expressive branches with leaves that are filled with different hues of pink, red, and orange—vibrant and very mesmerizing. Combine that with the energy that seems to be flowing from the tree, it is something that Elsa can surmise as magical, which is something common in Skyrim.
"Oh that, yes, that was there before I became an Archmage. It stands as a great centerpiece and also as a conduit to help plants grow."
After the woman mentioned that, Elsa notices the small garden underneath the tree. The plant life within the circle is nothing short of extraordinary with all the different colors, various kinds of flowers, mushrooms, and one or two smaller trees. While it looks somewhat busy, it is evenly spread out and the combination seems to compliment each other well; though Elsa is unsure how the plants manage to coexist within the area they are settled in. The entire garden is contained perfectly within the meticulously carved stone steps that surround the green life, which makes logic seem irrelevant when it comes to green life. Still, despite its seemingly impractical placing, its full form is displayed magnificently and the tree illuminating over them only enhances their aesthetics.
"It… it is beautiful," Elsa manages to say with a soft voice, "I cannot believe it can sustain itself inside."
"You know I wish there was a way I can know more about it without sacrificing some of my soul for knowledge. My guess is that it might be a distant and much weaker relative of the Hist."
Even if this woman would know more about the enchanted tree, it would be a knowledge that would have to be described with intricacy for someone like Elsa since everything is foreign to the Snow Queen. And this room is no exception. As Elsa takes stock of the woman's wide and circular 'quarter', it is nothing short of unnatural and magical things. Some of the more alarming occurrences are gems letting off their own light as they hover in place and then books that were scattered floating to bookshelves, no doubt returning to their respective area for storage. Elsa could almost find such occurrences frightening had it not been for the fact that she has seen and experienced worse from the relatively short time she has been in Skyrim.
"Just for clarity's sake, you know you can keep resting for a while. There is no judgment in getting more sleep after such a journey," giving the woman her attention, Elsa finally decides that gawking at the supernatural things isn't the best way to show her gratitude. "And of course let me stop being rude and introduce myself: I'm Cayra. Not sure if Onyx has had the chance of talking about me, but let me assure you, if he had the chance to mention me, they are probably more snide remarks about the way I spend my magicka."
The comment and the thought gave Elsa a reason to smile as she responds. "I am afraid that Onyx and I have not been given the leisure to discuss casual topics. So your reputation is safe."
Cayra smiles back, giving Elsa more incentive to lower her guards. Making eye contact, Elsa takes note that even if this woman isn't smiling, there is beauty to be admired. The way her blond hair covers one of her light brown eyes steers her features away from most of the hostile residents that Elsa had encountered. Her posture is less intimidating as well since most, if not all that Elsa had encountered exudes presence that is off-putting ; Cayra doesn't fit that mold. In fact, Cayra's entire appearance, her skin color, the bright smile, and even the aura she projects are all familiar with Elsa. Strange how Elsa can truly differentiate Arendelle citizens to the denizens of this strange and violent world she has come to know as Skyrim. But as fragments of foreign memories start to seep in her current thoughts, the image of the young girl with her arms extended, waiting for Onyx to carry her, and then the beautiful dark haired woman with eyes that shine like two gold suns… and the intimate way she stands close to the Dragonborn… perhaps the true astonishment lies in the revelation of the warmer side of the abrasive Onyx. And Cayra seems to represent more of that soft side.
"Depending on how you please him, he will make time for a casual conversation."
And then those words came out of Cayra's mouth. Nearly choking on a gasp, Elsa responds as soon as she can. "E-Excuse me? Please him?"
"What? Did I say the wrong thing? I meant nothing by it. It's just a known fact that Onyx is one unpleasant companion despite the legend and myth that follows him."
To Elsa, she is almost certain that there was something heavily implied—it may not be a harmful implication, but it was something that is obviously far from the truth when it comes to Elsa and Onyx's relationship. But the strange thing is, Elsa might have somewhat despised and feel sorry for him due to the things she had observed, but now, there is a great amount of uncertainty that lingers. He truly does care for children, that much is certain and apparently, there is more to him than face value. Elsa knows the lesson of judging someone since she herself had been judged and ostracized because of her powers, but Onyx had made initial reaction of judging hard for Elsa. But now with what she had seen, he seems to have more positive things about him than he lets out. But to see him more than just that is something that never crossed Elsa's mind. In fact, 'pleasing' someone in the way she is assuming Cayra was pushing is something that Elsa had never thought about at all. Still somewhat off-balance from the statement, Elsa tries to hide it as she finally puts her feet on the floor and tries to stand up.
"Regardless, I'm sure that he would like to know that you are doing well," while speaking to her, Cayra stays close to ensure that Elsa can actually hold herself without falling, "I could tell him, but you should go see him yourself. Once you get your bearings, of course."
For a moment, Elsa found her legs unable to react the way she wanted them to. She feels herself stumbling a few steps and she can't be any more grateful that Cayra stands by her side supporting her. Eventually, Elsa can feel her legs starting to function as it should and standing on her own is natural once more.
"That… that would be nice," Elsa manages to say between catching her breath, "I need to thank him personally for saving my life. Again."
"Well, since I get the feeling that you don't have the intention of going back to bed, I'd go through that door on the other end of the room. He's outside."
Elsa follows Cayra's hand as she points towards Onyx's location. Without so much of a thought, Elsa takes her first steps towards it; hard to imagine that Elsa has this slight feeling of excitement at the thought of being able to see Onyx again; A strange and foreign feeling considering what their rapport had been.
"Onyx mentioned that you have tolerance for the cold like a Nord but, you might want to grab some fire enchanted clothing to keep yourself from completely freezing," Elsa pauses to glance at Cayra who is directing Elsa's attention towards a dresser next to the bed. "I have some clothing in there that would be more suitable than the one you are wearing now."
For a moment, Elsa found it to be an amusing thought that she would be suggested to wear something 'suitable' for the cold weather. The dark blue conservative clothing reminds Elsa of robes that priests or religious individuals wear on a normal basis. Said clothing covers Elsa from her neck all the way down, hiding her feet behind the skirt, much like her coronation dress does. But the coverage does not exactly provide a thick layer or anything that would help keep heat within so it definitely not an ideal attire for anyone who is on a journey to the cold and bitter wilderness. Makes Elsa wonder what Cayra does have in her dresser to protect her since she is wearing a similar style like Elsa; only Cayra's seems to have intricacy in her robe.
"Your dress is also in there, neatly prepared in case you want to wear that. And that style," Cayra stops midsentence and ponders on something, "it's so different. I really am curious and Onyx didn't tell me anything. Perhaps you could share something about yourself to me?"
Elsa replies with a polite smile since she is entirely unsure of what to say. Sharing who she is to people who are, for the most part, are similar in many ways but also strangers and worlds beyond what Elsa knows might not be the best idea right now. Opening the door, Elsa steps into the harsher reality of the outside; cold, winds raging, snow drops falling as if they have ill-intent, and then the sky always gray that outlines the war-torn structures is what greets Elsa all too often. And amidst it all, Elsa spots Onyx doing what he does best. With the crimson blade in hand, the Dragonborn moves as if he is in battle, performing strikes, thrusts, and shuffling about in the space he is allotted. Every time Onyx slashes or stabs the empty air, Elsa can hear the blade cutting through the wind. Every movement, Elsa can see the grace and skill Onyx possess and in some odd way, the Queen of Arendelle finds it somewhat hypnotizing. For Elsa, it's hard to imagine that the art of killing can be so beautiful and gracefully performed. Then again this scenario is missing the assailants that become nothing more than prey to Onyx's skill.
"You're finally awake," his comment takes Elsa by surprise. Not necessarily the nature of the statement but how quickly he transitioned from being so focused on his 'attacks' to speaking to Elsa. "How is your arm?"
Finding herself staring at his profile as he stands positioned for battle, Elsa decides to take a few steps closer before replying. "It hurts, though nothing compared to what it used to be," instinctively, Elsa touches the area where the arrow struck her. "Thank you, Onyx."
"You're welcome."
Elsa took note of how he said it. It was not condescending or sarcastic. It was either downright sincere or she is letting the image of Onyx lacking his usual Masque deceive her. Though she noticed his facial expression shift from battle ready to being serious—as if he was trying to make sure he had an adequate tone for the nature of what the moment was about. It was rather odd but it wasn't something Elsa wasn't willing to accept. She rather liked it. It gave her another window of the side of him he hasn't shown as much as he should. It made the images she saw of him and the woman he held close more tangible. The fact that he could be intimate, caring, and sincere gives her a reason to see him in a different light. What also helps is that for the first time since their encounter, Onyx is not wearing his armor. The sharper and intimidating image of him seems less defined, though he is by no means frail looking. While he isn't as broad shouldered as Kristoff, nor as tall as him, Onyx still has a stature of a warrior. His shirt hides enough but his definition definitely peeks through the linen attire. Most likely his lean build is the result of him constantly engaging in combat, which from what Elsa can tell is more than enough to keep one in good health.
"Strange to see you in a Mage's attire," his words snaps Elsa out of staring and she tries to look away as he turns to her, "but it should do for now since we need to try and stay out of the college's attention while we are here." As Onyx sheathes his blade, Elsa also can't help but notice just how out of place the belt, the scabbard, and his sword from the rest of the civilian look. It definitely does not sit as well with his choice of pants compared to his greaves. "Are you alright? You seem distracted."
And with that question, Elsa decides that she has spent enough time looking and studying him—something that she isn't quite sure as to why she has the need to do so. But considering that it's another culture shock to see him out of armor, it is somewhat justified, at least Elsa wants to think so. It's almost like looking at another person completely. Or perhaps is it because of the fact that he saved her life in the most unexpected way? The fact that inside the brooding is a heart that is warmer than he lets on?
"I-I'm fine," Elsa stutters as she finally responds, "I just…. Have never seen you use your blade in a way that makes it so… beautiful…"
"Beautiful?"
"Yes…" The peculiar expression he gives her says it all and Elsa can't help but agree with how odd the word was to describe something so lethal. She's more than sure that there would be a snide remark of some sort coming.
"Selvus, the man who raised me, taught me how to hone one's skill of the blade without having to engage with someone else," much to her shock, Onyx responds calmly and oddly informative, "it's more or less a method of practicing certain important aspects of wielding and using a blade without having to worry about getting injured or killed. For a while, it was a method I preferred since Selvus was a skilled swordsman but not a great teacher."
Elsa caught on to what Onyx was implying—and if the writing on the walls weren't enough, his facial expressions told the story. She finds herself intrigued, which of course makes the images that she saw of Onyx's memories even more defined. It pokes at her in a way that it shouldn't. Elsa shouldn't be curious.
"Cayra is rather nice," Elsa blurted out awkwardly as she tries to change the conversation. "She is rather hospitable and seems to think highly of you."
"So highly that she would pester me until Oblivions open up in every corner of Nirn."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing. I have seen that kind of rapport before and it usually turns out for the better."
"Perhaps. But Cayra and I are best when there are a lot of time and distance between us."
There was another sarcasm but in a form of a gentle and less condescending tone. Something that Elsa can work with. "But you will have to forgive me if I say that I have seen worse."
Onyx's reaction is of course silence but without his masque, Elsa can see the bewildered but amused emotional response through the way he expresses with his face. All in all, he seems to take her playful barb with less hostility than she would have thought. Definitely a good thing.
"You have a point," he finally responds as he walks past her. "So I suppose we should take advantage of her hospitality while we can. I'm sure that the road ahead is not going to offer any safe passage with who and what are at work here."
And while the reality of the hardships they will face is daunting, there seems to be something else that tugs at Elsa: the memories and the images that she witnessed as Onyx tended to her. Once again she is fighting the burden of her curiosity.
"When you were helping me, I saw some things," and Elsa's curiosity won the battle, "it was unclear as to what they were but is it safe to assume that they were your memories?"
Clearly, the question took him by surprise as he stopped all movements and stood stark still for a few moments. In some ways, Elsa herself was taken by surprise from her own boldness. This is the abrasive Dragonborn after all and a cold and mocking—mocking—response is what she is in for.
"The School of Restoration is something I was never fully trained on," he responds calmly, taking Elsa by surprise yet again, "and in the event that I was, I don't think I would have been very good at it. But for a while, I did depend on it and it helped through my journey to become what I am now. I was also told that healing spells derive from good memories. The intent to heal goes hand in hand with the feeling of mirth… much like Destruction spells originate from the intent of malice or inflicting pain. Those who aren't experts or masters of the Restoration Spells depend more on memories. Mages like Cayra are able to transfer the healing aspect without concentrating so much on that."
"Love will thaw a frozen heart," it was a barely a few seconds after when Elsa subconsciously blurted out those words. Onyx's statement about good memories and Restoration spells resonated with Elsa in a way that it mirrors how her powers work.
"It's strange how something as simple as that could have helped you control your powers. Then again, it wasn't your fault. You were after all a victim of ignorance."
Immediately Elsa found herself staring at Onyx. "Wait… what?"
"I asked you to remember good memories while I was healing you. It was the only way to combat the Illusion spell in that arrow. They knew that fear is your greatest enemy."
Elsa should be focused on the previous statement that came out of Onyx's mouth. The fact that her enemies are possibly exploiting her weakness is a daunting thing. But somehow the idea of Onyx getting a glimpse of her memories seems to take all her attention. Just what did he see? How does he think of her now? Is he going to be even more condescending or perhaps this warmer ambiance he is giving off will be a sign of a new rapport? And what about what she saw? Why is it that she is so curious about the woman who Onyx is so intimate with? Is she somehow related in some way to the young girl that might be Onyx's daughter? So many questions and the only way to find out is to actually ask him.
"Onyx?" and Elsa was about to ask boldly until…
"Hey, Onyx!"
When the door opens, Elsa retracts her thoughts and quickly shifts away, allowing Cayra to break the mood completely. In some way, Elsa can consider the interruption a good thing. With how stern and disconnected Onyx is, Elsa poking at his privacy might very well lead to more unwanted bickering. But something inside of her is asking the question: would he have been more receptive given what had just transpired?
"Cayra," but the answer to Elsa's question won't be hers at the moment since Onyx's attention is now committed to Cayra.
"What did I tell you about everything going to be just fine?"
Cayra's words and her body language seems to really contrast the world she lives in. Again, she is every bit of a distinguishable creature against the bleak and rough world of Skyrim. Even her skin tone, her hair, and the way she is dressed are a marvelous difference as she stands next to Onyx as she goads him. To Elsa, it is another symbol that perhaps not everything in Onyx's world is as dark and grim as he is. Perhaps it is just him… or at least this is who he is when he has to be. After all, judging from the vague images she saw and that letter she read from this 'Anjiri' back in his Manor in Solitude, Onyx doesn't seem to have the same nasty attitude when interacting with someone that close in his life.
"When this is all said and done, I will tell you if everything is fine," and of course the response is nothing short of the typical Onyx that Elsa has grown accustomed to.
"Oh? Another quest? Divines, Onyx! Haven't you had enough?"
"Just tell me that Urag found some books that may lead me to the right direction."
"Shouldn't you take it easy for a little while? I mean your friend over there just took a Daedric Arrow and—"
"Please, do not worry yourself about me," Elsa interrupts immediately, "I will be fine, thanks to both of your efforts."
"Mostly mine."
Onyx gives Cayra a derisive look as she playfully elaborates on the act of healing Elsa. Despite the fact that Onyx was obviously agitated, Elsa can't help but want to laugh; of course, she holds it into the best of her ability.
"Did you ask Urag to prepare those books or not?" of course the moment shifted to a serious tone the moment Onyx lets it be known that he is not in the mood.
"Yes, Onyx. And we also grabbed the Ebony Ingots that you needed."
"Good. Now it's time to deal with a sullen Orc who has a fascination for books instead of war hammers and bloodshed."
Walking pass Cayra and Elsa, Onyx heads back inside, leaving the two women outside feeling slightly awkward; From the feel of things, Cayra more so than Elsa.
"I do apologize," Cayra breaks the silence after Onyx is out of sight, "I can only imagine that he has been a handful. I do swear by the Divines that he can be approachable. He is—"
"Complicated, I know," Elsa states in irony, as she can't help but smile. "But he saved my life and has done so more than enough times. And yes, he lacks some consideration here and there, but I do believe I may have come to some understanding that there is something beyond than what he has shown. There is something there I might not have seen before."
The image of the little girl, the pale woman with black hair… and the kiss… they seem to want to flood her mind and Elsa can't help but confirm that there really is more to Onyx beyond what can be seen.
To Be Continued.