Trish, a High Elf with pink hair who had on a red velvet dress, gazed into the clouds and couldn't help but feel like the weather was telling a sign. The clouds were getting darker, and the temperature was getting colder. The winds howled. Trish tried to get closer to Fugo, the blond Imperial who wore a green brocade doublet with matching green pants. Although High Elves were taller than other races, Trish was smaller when compared.

"You know, I think you two would make a great couple," said the blond Wood Elf with hair in the shape of an onion.

They are a couple, but the Wood Elf ruined the moment. Trish moved away from Fugo.

"How about you shut up?" demanded Fugo.

"I'm helping, aren't I?"

Fugo stopped walking, turned around, looked directly into his eyes, and said, "You tell me."

Trish stopped as well to look at the argument.

"I-I see that I haven't been thinking of better ideas. I'll—"

"Quiet!" Fugo yelled.

Trish hugged herself and continued walking toward Bruma. The blond Imperial got closer to her and whispered, "I'm tired of this guy. Hopefully, we won't see him tomorrow."

She sighed. Her mother warned her about him. The two never went to the arena to watch fights, but Trish was bored that time. She expected the Grand Champion to be buff, muscular, and exotic, not some lean Imperial. Before the match started, she saw him applying green liquid to his blade. It had to be poison because there was no way he could fall three minotaurs. Mid-fight, Fugo looked directly at her, and she at him. He was distracted until a minotaur punched him. That was when he dropped his weapon and gave it a barrage of punches. In the end, he won the fight, but they managed to speak after he healed.

"Fugo, please," she whispered.

"Believe me, he'll be gone by tonight. Just wait."

She wondered how the Wood Elf would go away. She couldn't help but feel like Fugo was hiding something about himself she didn't know. She looked at the sky once more. A blizzard was coming. They better hurry.

Within a few long minutes, they arrived in Bruma.

"Well, I'll be at the Mages' Guild. Wish me luck!" Trish said before leaving.

She hated leaving those two alone with each other, but she could feel the tension between them. It felt as if Fugo wanted the Wood Elf to die. Whether that was true or not, she couldn't do anything. For now, Trish focused on finding a healer and hoped they would assist her in something else.

The Mages' Guild wasn't hard to find, despite most of the buildings looking like cabins. She went inside and nobody was there except for a Khajiit in tan robes and a blond Breton in pink. She felt drawn to the blond and approached him.

"Excuse me," she said, "could you help me with something personal?"

"Sure," he said, "so long as it's not a recommendation. We're remodeling this guildhall."

Trish didn't pay attention when she entered. She then examined the room. It was bare, and there were ashes on the ground. She found it odd that there weren't any books on the bookshelves.

The blond got closer to her ear and whispered, "Don't ask what happened. J'skar was the sole survivor here. I'd rather not see him retraumatized." He stopped whispering. "I'm Giorno Giovanna, by the way. How may I help you?"

"Could you help me find my father?" she asked. "I'm Trish Una."

J'skar went somewhere else to give them alone time.

"Your father? You or I could try casting clairvoyance. It's a simple spell. I could teach it to you for free."

"Please teach me. Could I teach it to my mother?"

"Yes, I suppose you could if you can cast it. This spell is a passive spell, a spell you cast on yourself. You must also know what you're searching for. A physical object might help, assuming your father took something."

"I have never seen my father in my whole life. If he had taken something, I wouldn't have known. I assume I'm looking for someone who looks like me."

Trish then waited for Giorno to say something, but he seemed focused on something else. She cleared her throat to grab his attention.

"Sorry, I was thinking about something," he said. "Once you cast the spell, you should see a blue mist guiding you. Now, cast it. I won't be able to see it, but you should."

Trish cast the spell, but nothing happened. She tried again and got the same results.

"Judging from your face, it seems as if you failed," Giorno commented. "It's a fairly simple spell. It should've worked. Maybe you're casting it wrong. Give me a second." He grabbed an apple from his pocket. "Try tracking this apple. Now close your eyes and count to ten."

Trish did as he told her. Judging by the footsteps she heard, Giorno hid somewhere. Trish cast clairvoyance again, and the blue mist appeared, leading her upstairs where Giorno hid. However, she noticed this room had the most damage. Some bloodstains have not faded away entirely.

"So it worked," the blond commented. "How strange. The clairvoyance spell should be able to find your dad. Unless—sorry to be grim—he's dead. Even then, the spell should work. I don't understand."

"Of course." Trish sighed. "My mother tried the same idea, but nothing came of it. Of course, it doesn't work!"

Giorno tried to comfort her. "I'm not sure why it won't work. Let me try." He tried and got the same result as her—nothing. "You're right."

"Giorno, that's your name, right? I'm curious, could you find missing people? I know people go missing all the time. Maybe clairvoyance is a useless spell. There wouldn't be anything missing people if that spell worked."

"No, most people are against using magic for whatever reason, which is why you hardly see mages solving missing people cases."

"Thanks for trying," Trish said. "I also have one last thing to ask you. Could you teach me how to cure diseases?"

"That's a level above apprentice skill. Are you sure you can cast it?"

"No, I can't. With some practice, I could try."

"Perhaps you could try joining us."

"Could you cast the spell?" Trish asked. "I might join, but can you come to the Imperial City with me, please?"

"Sure, I'll join you. I must return to the Mages' Guild in the Imperial City."

"Oh, there's one more thing. I have someone traveling with us. He won't be back until tomorrow. Since this place is in a wreck, maybe I could help. You see those drapes with the scorched marks. Hideous even before they got burnt. I can help remodel and decorate. While I'm at it, could you teach me a few spells?"

Fugo returned to Bruma in the morning alone. He headed to the Mages' Guild, assuming Trish was still there. As he thought, she was there, but she was chatting with a blond guy, smiling and laughing. The man she was talking to stared at him.

"Wow, we're getting new people coming in," the blond commented with a smile. "Greetings and—wait, I know you." His smile was gone, but his reaction told him he was surprised.

Fugo's hands shaped into a fist, but he didn't know it. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you. Trish, who is this?"

"That's Giorno Giovanna," she answered. "He's coming with us to the Imperial City to cure mother."

"You know I can cure her, too, right? I can supply you with potions."

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"I— No, I was thinking—"

"There's a chance you could accidentally put something poisonous in the ingredients," Giorno butted in.

"Hey, no one asked you!" Fugo responded. "Come on, let's go. The Wood Elf won't bother us anymore."

Trish could already tell that Fugo and Giorno weren't going to get along. She walked ahead of them, making the journey back to the Imperial City. She wasn't sure why Fugo became aggressive towards Giorno, but she needed the Breton.

While traveling down the Silver Road and the Red Ring Road, she noticed how quiet they were. She also noted that no bandits had ambushed them. For once, they get to admire the grassy meadows and trees.

"I haven't seen a bandit attack us," Trish said.

"We are on the Red Ring Road, nearing the Imperial City," Fugo replied.

"There might also be another reason why," Giorno added. "Have you guys heard of an increase in vampire attacks recently?" The two of them looked at him and said no. "Arch-Mage Avdol—"

"Wait," Fugo interrupted, "what happened to Hannibal Traven?"

"Died by suicide. As I was saying, Arch-Mage Avdol warned us about traveling on the roads at night. Master-Wizard Will Zeppeli is in a group with a bunch of vampire hunters. He has this under control."

"Don't tell me this vampire group he's in is called the Order of the Virtuous Blood," Fugo continued chatting.

"Yes, but I'm not a part of that group."

"Will does not have it under control. So, Giorno, right? What's your rank?"

"I'm a conjurer."

"I was a magician when I left. I'm not returning, by the way. Besides, I don't think I'm welcome there. But enough about me, what's so special about you?"

"I'm an expert at restoration and alteration and a master at mysticism. What about you?"

"I'm skilled in alchemy and an expert at destruction."

"Would you say you have a mastery in alchemy? Why didn't Trish ask you to cure her mother?"

Trish could feel Fugo's anger, and it worried her. Then she felt his eyes on her.

"That is a good question. Why didn't you ask me?"

"I didn't know," she answered. "I didn't know that you were once a part of the Mages' Guild. Why did you leave?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Trish then looked to Giorno, hoping to get an answer.

"I don't know the reason behind it," the Breton said. "Perhaps it would be best if we didn't talk about it."

"Agreed," the Imperial commented.

Once more, the party of three was quiet, even in Trish's home in the Elven Gardens District.

Trish opened the window in her room and stuck her head out. There was a slight breeze in the air. She took a whiff. It stinks.

"Trish." Giorno grabbed her attention.

She stepped away from the window and closed it, looking at him. "Did you cure her?"

He nodded and sat down on a wooden chair. Trish then sat down on her bed. "Thank you, but do you know what caused it? Did she tell you?"

"She might have caught an airborne disease when talking to someone. She was looking for somebody—"

"Father," she interrupted. "She was looking for my father. This ridiculous search for him is going to drive her to her grave. Maybe I should stop looking for him too. She doesn't remember his name or his appearance. That must sound pretty odd."

"We're alike." Giorno tried to comfort her. "I don't know if my mother remembers anything about my father. I'd rather not talk to her, but your search made me curious about my father. While on the road, I cast the clairvoyance spell to find my father, but the mist split into two paths."

"That's weird. Maybe you have two biological fathers?"

"Is that even possible? Anyways, the mist led to Chorrol and somewhere up north. Trish, are you still going to find your father? If so, maybe I could try looking for mine as well."

"Well, I guess I am still curious. If I ever do find my father, I'm not sure what I would do."

"Same."

It was quiet for some time until Giorno spoke. "The guild hasn't requested me for any task, so I have some time to tag along. What about Fugo?"

"He always tags along with me. Speaking of him, I should tell him of my plans tomorrow. Does leaving around lunch tomorrow sound okay? Let's meet up at the Arena."

"Yes, that will do. Goodbye, and take care."

Giorno got up and left.

Fugo sat on the couch. Judging from the geometric details of the cushion, it was of Redguard design. He looked around the room, trying to pass the time. There were some bookshelves. Although, there were pots and small sculptures occupying the shelves, and none of the books caught his attention. Still sitting on the couch, he looked out the window. Nothing much was going on. People waved, hugged, or greeted each other and left. He was about to get up and ask what was taking so long until Giorno descended the stairs and left. Trish went down the stairs as well.

"So," Fugo spoke to Trish, "are you still planning to join the Mages' Guild? I won't stop you."

"Yeah, and Giorno wants to come," Trish answered.

"Why?"

"He's also looking for someone."

"Why doesn't he just look for that person right now?"

"He said the clairvoyance spell split into different directions. He's trying to find one person."

"Perhaps that person is dead. Maybe his body got split up and separated."

"I don't know. He said the path led to Chorrol and somewhere up north."

"I hope it's not Skyrim. I don't want to go to Skyrim."

"Anyways, we have to leave tomorrow after lunch. Come, let's head to bed."