"So you're telling me," Norvosh said, staring at the table between them, a hand on his temple as if he had a splitting headache, "that you just spent nearly all of my gold for a single letter?"
Rohah and Norvosh were sitting in the inn again, halfway through a meal Rohah already knew would go uneaten. She'd been relating her day to Norvosh, chuffed about finally joining the College, when she'd reached the point where she had sent a letter to Cyrodiil. She had almost forgotten the money was meant for Norvosh, and her formerly enthusiastic demeanor had quickly gone quiet while recounting.
"They're my parents," Rohah said, guilt worming in her gut. "They asked me to write as soon as I could."
"Rohah, I can't believe you. We had an agreement. Eight thousand went to you for College tuition, and I got the rest." Norvosh's voice sounded strained, as if he were trying his best to keep himself calm.
"Look, I'll pay you back," Rohah said, glancing around the inn furtively. "I'm sorry, I really am. But you must understand about family, you're an orc, aren't you?" Her tone was desperate.
Norvosh scowled, apparently unmoved. "Why couldn't you have taken it out of your own share?"
"I'd already signed, hadn't I? It's set aside for tuition."
He groaned. "That letter was a stupid move, you must know that. How are you going to pay me back? You don't even have a plan!" he added angrily, when Rohah remained silent. "Figure something out, Cyrod, and don't talk to me 'till you have."
Rohah was so miserable with herself, she did not try to argue or stop Norvosh, who had stood and stalked away to his room in the inn, swearing under his breath. A few patrons glanced Rohah's way. She left some coins on the table and abandoned her food, too depressed to finish it. She walked mechanically back to the College, stewing in her own thoughts.
I shouldn't have. She knew that. Why hadn't she stopped to think before acting? Did she just assume Norvosh would have been fine with the use of the gold? No, he had been very plain about what he wanted… Rohah had just been too self-absorbed to remember it. How on Nirn was she meant to pay him back now? She wished she could run out and stop the courier, who was already on his way to Cyrodiil.
Her feet carried her across the bridge, and she was so preoccupied, the dizzying drop failed to scare her. Stilde, the Nord woman she'd met, waved at her as she passed, but Rohah could only muster a feeble smile in return.
She ascended the stairs and pushed open the door to her quarters, then laid spread-eagled on the bed and looked blankly at the stone ceiling. What a mess. How was it possible she'd started this day eager to enroll? Now there was a hollow pit in her stomach, and it wasn't just because she had barely eaten.
Rohah rolled over on her side, laying there for a long time before sleep took her.
Mirabelle was speaking to another student when Rohah came to her office the next day. She waited by the door and became very interested in a painting on the wall while the young Nord was told off by Mirabelle.
" - aware this is the second time Sergius has complained to me? We're not even a month in and you're causing disruptions. I know your parents, and if this behaviour continues - "
"Professor, it was just a joke, that's all," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean for it to break, it was an accident - "
"An accident that cost us research materials due to your carelessness," Mirabelle said, cutting him off.
"I didn't mean to," the Nord repeated.
"I'm letting you off with a warning now, but act with more caution or I may write to your parents. Good to see you, Rohah," she said, without so much as a pause. "Off you go, Gormir, and don't let me hear from Sergius again." The Nord exited, looking slightly abashed.
"Sorry for the interruption - Gormir had smashed a soul gem," Mirabelle said. "He's really quite talented at Enchanting, I watched him break a powerful flame enchantment myself, but the boy has no subtlety. Now, let's see… your schedule… yes."
Rohah took a seat on the now vacated chair. "What am I deciding on exactly?"
"Your major areas of study, first, and then your electives," Mirabelle said. "What are you most interested in?"
"Restoration and Illusion," Rohah said. "That's what I'm best at."
Mirabelle's face almost twitched in a smile, and the motion made her seem more human. "But are you interested in them?"
"Yes," Rohah said firmly.
"All right, then. Our four core courses are Destruction, Alteration, Conjuration, and Enchanting. We have three electives, which are Alchemy, Restoration, and Illusion. If you're sticking with your choice, you'll be taking six classes. You can take Alchemy if you wish, but I wouldn't recommend it, as taking all seven can result in heavy workloads."
"I think I'll pass," Rohah said, while privately thinking that she'd be lucky to brew anything but soggy ingredients if the opportunity was presented to her.
"Six, then," Mirabelle said, "with a focus on Restoration and Illusion. Generally classes meet twice a week. Given that students have Middas off, you'll average at three classes a day. Restoration and Illusion classes will be ninety minutes, and the rest will be fifty. Sounds good so far?"
"Yes."
Mirabelle then wrote up Rohah's schedule, which she folded carefully and placed inside the pockets of her College robes. Rohah left feeling inexplicably pleased, despite the argument of last night weighing on her.
She returned to her quarters on the fourth floor and checked when her first class was. Alteration, tomorrow - Morndas - at 9 AM. She'd need to get a watch at some point. Rohah's heart sank at the prospect of spending more gold. Maybe she could make do without.
Rohah left her room, leaving her schedule behind. To her surprise, Gormir was on the third floor, lingering near a closed door and looking as if he were working up the courage to do something.
"Hey," Rohah said, and he jumped. "What're you doing?"
"Who, me? Nothing," he said. "I, ah, was just about to head down. You scared me."
"Sorry," she said, grinning. They both moved for the stairwell. "I saw you getting told off by Mirabelle."
"Oh yeah," he said, snorting. "It wasn't an empty threat when she said she knew my parents… they grew up here together. Makes it hard to do anything without them knowing."
"She told me you were good at Enchanting," Rohah said.
"She did?" Gormir said, surprised. "Did she say anything else?"
"Yeah, she said you'd broken a powerful flame enchantment once." Rohah could tell he was struggling to not look too pleased with himself.
"Yeah, well. Sergius is a pretty good teacher. He's a bit grumpy, but maybe that's just his old age showing. Hey, I haven't seen you around - are you new?"
Rohah nodded. "Mirabelle was making my schedule. I have Alteration first thing tomorrow with Professor Tolfdir."
"With Tolfdir?" Gormir said, suddenly interested. "Did anyone tell you about it?"
"Um - about what?"
"Mirabelle didn't even mention it to you? We're going on a short trip to some Nordic ruins tomorrow called Saarthal. Tolfdir's bringing us and a few other classes for some 'hands on experience,'" he said, etching lines into the air to indicate quotes. "There's going to be actual draugr - can you believe it?"
Rohah, who had already been through one too many Nordic ruins, and seen enough rotten draugr to last her a lifetime, smiled and agreed with Gormir that it sounded amazing. He began to ramble on about the trip.
" - and there's certainly going to be all sorts of ancient enchantments and curses in there. Traps, torcs, trinkets - and probably some other things that don't start with 't'. I wonder what kind of enchantments they might have used on their armor? I've seen some dead draugr brought to the College for study before, their armor has always been intact, maybe they had some kind of durability enchantment so it would last, what do you think?"
And Rohah, who was only half listening, felt a jolt go through her as he spoke. Of course… she had forgotten them entirely, and they were half the reason she came to Winterhold. There had been so much going on, and she hadn't thought about them in a whole month, but Gormir's soliloquy had reminded her. Rohah broke into a run.
"I've just remembered something! Nice to meet you!" she called over her shoulder to a bemused Gormir as she dashed away, robes flapping wildly, but positively beaming. She was headed straight for the inn, where she and Norvosh kept their haul from Valthume.
She entered, panting only lightly, and saw Norvosh deep in conversation with the innkeeper. He turned away from Rohah, disguising his shift in position as innocently scooting closer to the bar table. Familiar guilt rose again in her, but this time she pushed it down and squared her shoulders. I'm trying to fix this, you know, she thought bitterly as she entered her rented room.
The money was gone. Looked like Norvosh had moved it to his own room, apparently suspicious she'd waste more of it. Rohah lifted her true quarry from their bags, the battered mask and staff of the undead Dragon Priest. She tucked them under her arm. Norvosh did not look her way when Rohah left the inn, and she could not detect any difference in his behaviour, except perhaps that he was speaking with unwonted loudness.
It didn't take long for Rohah to track down Sergius, the Enchanting instructor. He was in the Arcaneum, reading a book, and he was rather irritated when she interrupted him. His vexation disappeared almost immediately when Rohah presented him with the Priest's items and asked if he could please help her identify their enchantments.
Though both objects rested in his lap, it was clear Sergius had eyes only for the iron mask. He lifted it up into the light and tapped it, turning it over several times.
"I don't know who you are, but what you've got here is very rare," Sergius said. "This is a genuine Dragon - "
" - Priest mask, I know," Rohah said. "It's sort of a long story, so don't ask. But do you know what it's enchanted with?"
"It makes the wearer completely immune to disease, and poison by extension, I imagine," he said. "'Course, it's not determining the enchantment that's a challenge… It's figuring out how those ancient Nords did this that's beyond me. I'd love to study this beauty."
He spent several minutes examining the mask, and was only drawn out of his reverie when Rohah said hesitantly, "Sir - the staff?"
"Oh, yes. The staff holds a simple lightning enchantment, creates a wall of electricity. It's not nearly as valuable as the mask. Strong, yes, but its enchantment is not difficult to replicate... You didn't try either of these items before coming to me, did you?" he asked sharply.
"Uh, no. Of course not," she said, the Priest's grisly visage appearing in her mind's eye.
"Good, good. Well, you'd best have these back," Sergius said, handing her the staff and mask reluctantly.
"Do you know where I could find the Arch-Mage?"
Several flights of stairs later, Rohah had reached the Arch-Mage's quarters. The College's symbol - a lidded eye - was embossed on the door, and it made her hair prickle as she knocked.
"Enter," a voice said smoothly.
She pushed open the door and almost gasped - the inside was beautiful. Arches soared up to the ceiling to enclose a small garden. Bright werelights seemed an acceptable replacement for the sun, as the plants springing up out of the ground were clearly flourishing. Shelves lined the walls, packed with all sorts of magical objects - staves, soul gems, scrolls... Her eyes moved past the display and fell on a Thalmor. The sight of him was less welcome than the rest of the room, but even so, he looked as though he fit right in with his elegant robes. On his right, a Dunmer who was clearly the Arch-Mage sat on a chair.
"I'm sorry - were you seeing the Arch-Mage?" Rohah said cautiously to the standing Thalmor.
He sneered at her. "I was just leaving." Rohah moved aside to let him pass, and waited until the door closed behind him before she approached the Dunmer.
"That was my advisor, Ancano. Was there something you needed?" the Arch-Mage said. His red eyes unnerved her. Rohah recalled his name was Savos Aren. She had looked over her schedule earlier to try and learn her teacher's names, and his was first on the list.
"Yes. I was wondering if you would be interested in buying this," she said, lifting the mask, "for the College."
Savos' demeanor became less friendly. "I don't spend my days cutting deals with every treasure hunter that crosses my path, you know."
"Sir, it's a Dragon Priest mask," Rohah said, handing it to him. He accepted it, eyes widening.
Savos held the mask reverently. When he didn't say anything for a few moments, Rohah scratched the back of her neck nervously and told him, "It belonged to Hevnoraak."
"I understand you enrolled yesterday?" he said, not taking his eyes off the mask.
"That's right, sir."
"What would you say if I halved your tuition in exchange for this mask?"
Rohah's heart seemed to skip a beat, and she grinned. "That sounds perfect."
"Excellent," he said, at last tearing his gaze away to look at her. "I'll be off to make the arrangements with Mirabelle right now. Would you like to come?"
"No, sorry, sir, I have to be somewhere else," she said.
They both left his quarters together, walking in silence until their paths diverged. Once Rohah was sure he was gone, she sprinted out of the College, elated. She was finally going to make it up to Norvosh! Rohah accidentally whacked a few walls with her staff in her haste.
She passed by Gormir as she ran. He was walking in a group with Stilde, an Argonian, and a Redguard, who paused their conversation to watch her tear past.
"Why're you always in such a hurry?" Gormir yelled after her.
"Tell you later!" she shouted back, her grin returning.
Heads turned as Rohah burst into the inn for the second time that day, her short windswept hair obscuring her vision. She brushed it aside impatiently and poked her head in Norvosh's room. He was whittling a chunk of oak wood with a dagger. Shavings littered the floor around his feet, and an open book rested on the nightstand.
"Norvosh," she said brightly, ignoring his scowl when he looked up. "Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I talked to the Arch-Mage and we, um, worked things out. He agreed to halve my tuition, so I only pay four thousand septims now. The rest is all yours."
Norvosh's mouth hung open, and he momentarily looked struck dumb. Then he closed it and his face split into a smile. "Are you serious?"
"Completely."
He dropped his dagger and the wood, jumped off his bed, took two bounding steps toward Rohah, and hugged her with enough force to break her ribs.
"Air," she gasped. He let her go with a rueful smile, and she stumbled backward, grinning.
"That's so great, Rohah, I..." But apparently he did not know what to say, and instead shook his head as if shaking off a fly. "How did you convince him?"
Rohah shrugged. "A magician never reveals her secrets."
"And why are you holding Hevnoraak's staff?" Norvosh asked suspiciously.
"Erm…"
"Oh, come on," he groaned. "You sold the mask, didn't you? That's how?" Rohah's expression was all the answer he needed. Norvosh snorted but looked pleased all the same.
"It was for a good cause," she said. "I'm going to head back up to the College, I want to start translating the runes we found."
"All right," Norvosh said. "I'm going to start packing my things. I want to leave by dawn tomorrow."
"That's perfect, I can say goodbye before the draugr get me. Oh - didn't I tell you I'm venturing into another Nordic tomb tomorrow at nine?" she said, laughing at the look on his face.
"You hadn't mentioned it, no," he said, joining in after a pause. "What is it, some sort of horrific College field trip?"
"That's surprisingly accurate," Rohah replied, grinning and just happy Norvosh was speaking to her again. It was hard to imagine that she'd ever been worried if their friendship would survive.
"Well, don't get yourself hurt," Norvosh said, a little more seriously this time. "Those ruins can be deadly."
"I'll be okay, the whole class is coming," she said. "Besides, don't you think I can protect myself?"
"No."
"Fair enough."
Rohah spent the rest of her evening poring over her rubbings she'd made from Valthume. It was slow, tedious work, checking and double-checking each rune to make sure she got it right, then running through a dictionary of known Dovahzul words to find a match. The sun was turning the sky a dusky orange by the time Rohah had penned the last Tamrielic word to the page.
here lies Yngnavar Ghost-Bear who did seek glory on the battlefield of sorrow but instead found death and dishonor
"Cheery," she muttered to herself.
Since she had no use for the knowledge herself, she donated the rest of the rubbings and her translation to Urag, the orc librarian, who was more than happy to accept them once she'd told him where they came from.
"Our knowledge on the ruins of Dragon Priests is scant, so it's good you had the sense to record what you saw," he told her.
All things considered, Rohah thought happily as she sank into her bed that night in the College, looking at the staff leaning on the wall across the room, and remembering Norvosh's expression after she'd sold the mask, maybe those Dragon Priests weren't so bad after all.
