Tirdas, the 9th of Evening Star, 4E201
"Ugh, bitter."
The Dragonborn's face morphed into a scowl. Given her experience, she knew better than to expect a potion to taste good, but this was simply another level of foul. She stuck out her tongue and a shiver ran through her entire body. Part of her wondered what it was that made the concoction taste so disgusting. Part of her didn't even want to know.
"With how many of those you drink, I would've expected you to get used to it." The quip came from her left, its Telvanni sender smirking cheekily. Saya's eye twitched and she raised her head to glare in the Dunmer's general direction - only to witness the exact moment that a very sizable stone just barely missed the jeering mage's head. Brelyna quickly whipped back around, glaring at her sparring partner. "A little warning?!"
"I missed," Elra said, flexing her fingers in repeated motions. Transparent tendrils of dull green magicka pulsed around her with each twitch of her muscles, their glow mirrored in a number of similar stones that levitated around the Reachwoman. "That was your warning."
Brelyna growled and raised her hands once more, invisible wisps of energy streaming from her fingers and sparking as they struck one another and coalesced into wild bolts of lightning. Elra gave her the courtesy of waiting a moment before beginning her assault again, each strike of her staff sending heavy projectiles in her opponent's direction. The Telvanni was more than capable of keeping up however, as each strike of lightning chained into multiple, shattering the stones before they could hope to reach her. The back and forth continued as the intensity of each side's attacks intensified, more and more elements entering the play. While she brandished the staff with her right arm, Elra moved her left to pull the bricks from all around her - the walls, the floor, the pillars - all before splitting them and hurling them at her opponent.
Brelyna was in a state of complete concentration, no longer using both arms at once to send powerful bolts but instead resorting to firing individual blasts from each hand in hopes of keeping up with the increased speed. Her eyes narrowed involuntarily from the blinding flashes of light which kept pulsing faster and faster, to the point where she was all but guessing where her spells should go, pulses of electricity occasionally hitting the magical barrier around the two combatants.
The pressure continued to grow right up until the moment where Elra suddenly stopped firing. Brelyna blinked, her mind lagging behind the realization that the opportunity to strike had finally arrived. It was that moment of delay that she needed to come to her senses, to focus the magicka in her hands and prepare for the final strike that would defeat her opponent, who now stood idly with one hand stretched forward. The corner of the Dunmer's mouth stretched into a smirk-
Elra pulled her hand back, and Brelyna heard a loud crack come from beneath her. The floor rumbled under her feet, and she suddenly caught herself struggling to keep balance. She didn't immediately realize what was happening until the stones were quite literally pulled from under her feet and she fell onto her back with a loud thud. She barely had the time to grunt from the pain and open her eyes, and the moment she did - one of those heavy blocks that hung over her dropped onto her stomach. Not enough to injure, but more than enough to keep her from standing up.
"Alright, that's enough!" An authoritative voice reverberated across the chamber. With a wave of a hand, the shimmering barrier that encircled most of the hall disappeared. With another, the stone shards and dust were pulled together, reconstructing into heavy bricks that seamlessly slid into their original alcoves. Saya watched as the robed old man walked past her and offered Brelyna a hand, helping her stand up. He checked up on the apprentice mage who assured him she was alright, and his mismatched eyes wrinkled as a reassuring smile stretched his lips, his messy grey beard moving with them. "Well done, well done! Excellent work, both of you!" He said, clapping his hands together.
This was master Tolfdir - their teacher of defensive magicks, and the person responsible for this particular group of students, of which there were actually a couple. The rest were slightly more experienced, and in the care of the resident healing expert, Colette Marence. From their one accidental encounter, Saya knew that she was a rather… eccentric woman, so she was perfectly content with her current situation.
"Now, I'd like to first make a few comments. Brelyna, my dear," he turned to the Dunmer, who was currently in the process of sitting down on one of the outer stairs, where most of the students were sitting. Serana scooched over a little closer, once again double checking if she was okay. "You must try to manage the rhythm of the confrontation. Your control of lightning was magnificent, but you must remember to not let yourself be controlled by your opponent. The moment you let Elra's projectiles dictate when you could attack, you lost the initiative. Be careful next time." The Telvanni grumbled something under her nose but nodded, visibly displeased with the outcome but respectable enough not to take it out on her mentor. Tolfdir then turned to Elra, who had just finished moving the last of the stray bricks in place. "And you, my dear, were just stunning. You have demonstrated a great balance between defense and offense, resourcefulness, and strategic thinking. But next time, do try to damage the hall less." The Reachwoman gave a small bow as thanks and found herself a place to sit, not too close to anybody but not completely apart from all the others. "Now-"
"J'zargo volunteers to go next!" The Khajiit beside Saya immediately stood up, raising his arm. The Dragonborn could've sworn she heard Brelyna groan in the back. She found herself agreeing with that reaction, doubly so when she was suddenly faced with J'zargo's finger pointed directly at her. "And he requests the Dragonborn be his opponent!"
The room was silent for a single, but very uncomfortable second.
"...very well." Tolfdir looked like he was fighting back the urge to sigh, but he managed to retain his professional composure and instead turned to the Dragonborn. He looked sympathetic, but a job is a job. "Do you accept?"
Saya looked at Tolfdir, then at J'zargo. The Khajiit's tail was already swinging back and forth, his entire posture exuding confidence. She could refuse, but she had a feeling he'd take even that as a victory. And, well, who would she be if she passed up such an opportunity to poke at someone's pride? "Alright, I'm down." She put down the empty potion bottle beside her and stood up, stretching her back. "No Shouting rule still holds?"
J'zargo looked like he was about to interject but Tolfdir nodded. "Yes, please. Although I am reasonably confident that my barrier would hold, I would prefer to remain on the side of caution just in case. Another time, perhaps." The Khajiit in the background very visibly rolled his eyes. "Now, if you would…" The teacher gestured to the hall's center.
The two students entered the arena at the same time, taking their positions as instructed by Tolfdir. Both of them were given a moment to get comfortable and make their preparations. J'zargo wasted no time chanting a charm of fire protection with a hand placed on his chest, his fur and clothes shimmering slightly as the spell took hold. Saya briefly considered doing the same, but decided to conserve her magicka. She didn't feel quite 100% yet, potions notwithstanding, and though she felt confident enough that she had enough juice to last through this one fight, she'd rather not test her limits too much.
Tolfdir waited another few seconds before speaking again. "Alright, I suppose you are both ready now. I remind you that this is a first-contact sparring session, not a true combat situation. Demonstrate your skills, but do not overexert yourself, and do not forget to show restraint. The match ends when one of your spells makes full contact with your opponent. Is everything clear?" Two nods. He smiled. "Very well. Then let us begin!"
Without a moment's hesitation, both combatants opened with a blazing hot fireball sent in the other's direction. Neither projectile met its target, with J'zargo moving to the side with a quick step while Saya slipped under, sliding across the floor to close some of the distance. This development did not escape the Khajiit's eye. He immediately responded by taking a defensive stance, raising his arms and spreading his feet wider. The Dragonborn didn't immediately understand why, but when her next flaming bolt was broken with a lightning-quick punch, she couldn't help but smirk. J'zargo mirrored her expression.
What followed next could only be accurately described as a firestorm. The Khajiit's jabs and kicks were relentless, each one sending out waves of flame that followed his every motion, turning the magical duel into a pseudo-melee. J'zargo moved like a martial artist, sweeping strikes with wide arcs full of flourish accompanied by bullet-fast punches that kept Saya on her toes. Or rather, off her toes - as the Dragonborn used both her hands and her feet to move around, rolling and sliding and flipping her way around the arena, her frame weaving between the magical flares with barely a hair's breadth to spare. If J'zargo was a brawler, she was a dancer - matching her movements with his and continuously moving around the hall, following the circular shape to close the distance while he continuously stepped back, keeping her at range.
"Show off," Brelyna scoffed. J'zargo wouldn't know subtlety if he scraped it off his foot, and this was a consistent part of their training. He never failed to make the spar personal in some way, to tear away that safety net of it being a training session and rile her up, daring her to match his aggression. Which made it all the more frustrating when for every ten of her victories, he would have eleven. "Good thing he cast that charm at the beginning, wouldn't want the kitten to spoil his fur."
The Telvanni gave a crooked smile when she heard Onmund sigh in the background, though Elra remained stone-faced as always. Then she turned to look at Serana, counting on another amusing reaction. Her smile quickly vanished, however, when she saw that her quip went completely ignored. Ignored would be a strong word, even - it went unnoticed. The vampire just sat there, not mesmerized but rather completely fixated. Her eyes were unblinking, taking in every single motion, every detail of the fight like a sponge soaking up water.
Brelyna quietly scooched away from her. Just a little bit.
In the meantime, the sparring match had finally begun showing signs of slowing down. J'zargo's barrage of attacks eased up and the Khajiit took a more stable stance, panting as he struggled to catch his breath. Saya was showing some signs of exhaustion too, her chest rising and falling heavily while she sent the occasional half-hearted spell in his direction. The lightheaded feeling clouding her mind was a ringing alarm that signaled she was quite close to reaching the end of her reserves, and so she waited with her eyes peeled for even the smallest opportunity to exploit J'zargo's own spells against him. To redirect instead of creating…
And then, that plan went right out the window when J'zargo suddenly lunged towards her, abandoning his previous notions of creating distance between the two of them and closing in rapidly. Flame engulfed both of his forearms and Saya freaked out, stumbling backwards in panic at the sudden approach. He was just a couple meters away from her when the blast of energy was released from each hand, the two streams of flame wrapping around each other as a helix and giving the Dragonborn just barely enough time to defend herself.
The ward she hastily created shattered like glass upon impact, and Brelyna audibly winced from the sidelines when the recoil sent the already unbalanced Saya right on her rear. She made her best effort to at least sit up, lifting her head to look at J'zargo, who had just taken the few final steps to cover what little ground separated the two of them. The fire in his hand wrapped around itself, coalescing into a single glowing orb that he lifted above his head, leaping as he finally brought the finishing blow down upon his opponent. Saya lifted both of her arms defensively, bracing for the impact.
"That's enough-" Tolfdir was about to call out, yet could only wince as his vision was stabbed by a flash of light the moment the Khajiit released his spell. Everyone watching collectively groaned, closing their eyes and rubbing them in hopes of relieving the discomfort. Yet, when clarity of sight returned to them, they saw something else than they expected.
Saya was still on the floor, both hands held out thanks to defensive reflex, and J'zargo still remained in the same pose he was in just a moment ago, when the spell did its work. It was like his mind had not yet processed what just happened. Where he - and everyone else - expected to see a girl engulfed in flame, they instead found her covered in what looked almost like a ward, only… not. It was like an invisible magical field was wrapped around her, rippling like a pond someone had just dropped a stone into, with a faint blue glow emanating from the point where J'zargo's spell should've impacted her.
"What… is this?" The Khajiit's words echoed everyone's thoughts as he took a hesitant step back. Saya opened one eye slowly, then the other. When she took a look at her hands, he saw her expression warp with discomfort and embarrassment. At that, he only furrowed his brows. "What was that? What did you do?" He asked again, louder this time.
"I… uh…" She stammered, scratching her head awkwardly. All the other students were staring at her now, Serana included. She felt her stomach flip a little. She'd really rather be somewhere else right now.
"Now, now. There's no need to shout." Tolfdir stepped towards the two of them, releasing the barrier as he did. Once again, he offered the fallen combatant a hand, which she took hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm- yeah, I'm not hurt anywhere."
"Good." The old man smiled and turned to J'zargo. "Superb technique as always, J'zargo. But, I would recommend you slow down next time. I noticed you were short of breath at the end there, and a real opponent won't miss such a glaring weakness. You must learn to pace yourself better." The Khajiit was caught a bit off guard by the deconstruction, but nodded. Tolfdir returned the nod, as if silently dismissing the student before he turned to Saya. "Now, my dear… would you mind explaining to me what you did there just now?"
The Dragonborn cast another nervous glance in Serana's direction. The vampire's expression was… complicated. She looked puzzled, encouraging, and concerned all at once. Saya smiled wryly, sighed, and turned to Tolfdir. "It wasn't intentional, if that's what you're asking. I got this… 'ability' a few months ago, after an accident with an artifact I found. It's just something that I… I don't even really do it. It's just something that happens."
"Oh of course, the Dragonborn also happens to have some special ability on top…" Brelyna complained in the background. Onmund elbowed her softly. She punched him in the shoulder. He didn't elbow her anymore.
"Hmm… remarkable, truly remarkable…" Tolfdir muttered thoughtfully. By the look in his eye, he did not seem to be entirely convinced in Saya's truthfulness, but he was willing to let it slide. "And how, exactly, does it work?"
"Well…" Saya thought for a moment. "It's… something like a last-moment protection that nullifies whatever spell I come into contact with, and lets me absorb its energy to use for myself." She made a conscious effort to not look at J'zargo as she talked. She didn't even want to know what eyes he was staring at her with right now. "I haven't been able to make it happen consistently, so it activates at random whenever my magicka reserves are running low. Like just now."
"I see." Tolfdir stroked his beard. He remained silent for a moment, deliberating on what he should do. Saya stood there sheepishly, awaiting his judgement while avoiding looking at everyone else. She did her best to filter out any whispers she might've overheard. That was when he turned to her once again. "Well, I'm afraid that means I must disqualify you from the match, and any similar ones from here on out. I don't mean to discourage using such a curious ability, but you must understand the advantage it gives you over the other students."
Saya didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. "I understand," she said, bowing her head slightly as she mentally prepared to take her seat again.
"But," he continued, stopping her where she was, "I don't think it would be fair to count you out of our sparring sessions completely. Every practicing mage needs to work to hone their skills, of course." As he spoke, Tolfdir turned around and leisurely walked around the hall, his voice echoing off the stone walls. With a wave of his hand, the barrier was raised once more. He stopped when he was on the opposite side of the arena from her, and he looked directly at her. "So until you figure out how to control this ability of yours, I will be your sparring partner. That would even the chances a bit, wouldn't you agree?"
The room was plunged into complete silence for a few long, long seconds. Saya just stared at him, blinking a couple of times like she wasn't sure what she was hearing. "Um… of course?" She said, her voice raising with every syllable.
"Good." Tolfdir smiled. "Then let us begin."
As the streaks of bright energy gathered at the master wizard's fingertips, she suddenly found herself regretting her answer.
Saya is not exactly a person of national or racial pride, not by a long shot. Definitely not to the same level as, for example, Brelyna. But there is still something distinctly Dunmer about her that made her underestimate other people just a little bit, even if not consciously. Fate quite enjoyed reminding her to stay humble. And today, fate was a child in a candy store.
Saya did not sit down so much as she crashed down. The stone stair was rough on her behind, but she would take it another ten times over another minute against Tolfdir. Her hands were still shaking a bit, little currents of magicka making her muscles twitch and her hairs stand on end. She wouldn't even be that uneased by it if only Tolfdir himself looked even a little worse for wear - which he did not, not even for a moment. Having sufficiently asserted dominance over his unique student, the wizard brushed off his robes, straightening out any folds and wrinkles that might've popped up during their little match, and then gave the Dragonborn a reassuring smile.
A couple of hushed giggles came from the other students, and Saya mentally rolled her eyes. She knew exactly who the sources were, but she did not have the mental energy to bother. The wizard, however, did not share the same problem, and proceeded to clear his throat a bit louder than necessary. Once the group was quiet again, he spoke up. "I believe that will conclude our class for today. I'd like to once again thank everyone for participating, as always. If you have any questions, ask them now." There was a slight pause. Silence all around. "Very well. Then, before you go, I will once again remind you that the deadline for your personal projects is coming up next week, so please make sure you are ready to present them by then. I will see you- ah, yes?" The wizard's goodbye was interrupted by Serana lifting her arm, and he turned to her. "Did you have a question?"
"Excuse me, which projects do you mean?"
Tolfdir raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Were you two not informed?" His gaze drifted over to Saya, who shook her head. The man stroked his beard, sighing as he quietly muttered something under his breath. He quickly recomposed himself right afterwards, and clarified: "The College puts a large emphasis on encouraging our students' research. So, at the end of every quarter, we hold an event where all students present their recent findings and inventions. All the teachers who work here then judge these projects, and a few students are selected to receive an additional stipend from the College funds to sponsor their research until the next presentation."
Saya hummed. "Why so soon, then? We're not even halfway into the month yet, no?"
"New Life is coming up soon," Onmund pitched in. "The College gives all students a couple of weeks off before and after the holidays, to rest up and to celebrate."
"That, and some of us have families to go back to." Brelyna crossed her arms, looking at the Dragonborn with a slight condescending note in her expression while also being perfectly oblivious to the death glare Onmund just shot in her direction.
Saya and Serana exchanged a glance. "Technically, we're not really… enrolled," the Dragonborn said, scratching the side of her head. "Do we have to participate as well?"
"Nobody has to participate, but it is our preferred method of evaluating students. And I, for one, would be very curious to see what you would present." Tolfdir reassured them. Then, just as he was about to say something else, a slightly jarring metallic sound came from the main door into the Hall and everyone's eyes turned to the source - a small group of people, led by a woman in a similar robe to Tolfdir's. She was of similar height to Saya, dwarfed by the people she was leading. Her face was wrinkled with signs of age, but her hair was still a vibrant light brown and intricately braided, contrasting jarringly with the heavy bags under her eyes.
"Still here, Tolfdir?" The woman, Colette Marence, spoke up and crossed her arms. Her voice was less pleasant than Saya expected. It was shaky, even a bit… squirmy, if that was the right word to use. "Your lecture should have been over ten minutes ago."
Saya could've sworn she heard Tolfdir sigh when she entered. "Ah, Colette. Yes, yes, I was just answering some questions. Just a moment," he said, turning to his group once again. "So once again, please keep in mind everything we've discussed and don't forget to work on your weak points. Remember about your projects, and I wish you all a good day. Everyone is free to go."
The old man clapped his hands and everyone echoed some manner of goodbye or another. Some went on to exchange greetings with the other group - senior mages, from what could be gathered. Their robes were of similar design, though notably a lot more personalized, with each person's adornments and accessories indicating what, exactly, they were researching. Of course, Saya and Serana knew no one, and so the two of them banded together as they stood up, making their way out of the hall. That was when Saya felt someone put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see none other than Colette. "Is there a problem?" The Dragonborn asked.
"Ah, no, nothing of the sort." The teacher smiled awkwardly, but Saya found herself wishing she'd close her mouth. Whatever glimpse she got of her teeth was not a pleasant sight. "Urag said he wanted to see you in the Arcaneum. Best not to keep him waiting." With that, she let go and returned to her class, clearing her throat and beginning the lecture.
Saya's and Serana's looks lingered on the woman before they turned towards each other. The vampire appeared visibly uncomfortable. Saya answered the unspoken question, speaking quietly so as to not interrupt the class. "I'll be fine, it's probably just some work. You go on ahead."
"I… okay." Serana pushed down whatever protest she had and Saya gave her hand a quick reassuring squeeze. The vampire smiled sheepishly before turning away and leaving for the dorms along with all the other students. Saya watched her leave, the two exchanging a small wave before the door to the main College building closed and the Dragonborn quietly made her way into the library.
So I did say the Archmage and I would work out the price of the Elder Scroll information, right? Well, it was kind of true. The Archmage was technically involved as a mediator, but really it was Urag I had to deal with. And by "deal", I mean that I spent the last fifteen minutes having a fully structured briefing on what effectively is my personal homework - a bunch of documents and old historical records featuring dragon language. My job is to translate them and write annotations that I will then attach to the respective books.
Not the most exciting thing in the world, I must admit, but also I can't say I'm terribly disappointed with the trade. At least Urag won't be standing over my shoulder checking my progress every two seconds. I honestly expected something boring like having to write a dictionary, now that would be truly mind-numbing.
The Hall of Attainment was by no means a perfect place of residence, but Enthir could not afford to be picky. Spacious enough to store items, private enough to evade prying eyes. The only problem was the other College folk, but even they could be dealt with by pulling some strings and offering a few bits and baubles here and there. In fact, there were precious few people at the College he didn't have such a relationship with, and it earned him quite the reputation.
A reputation that now brought Saya to him. The Dragonborn didn't bother much with the preamble, tapping him on the shoulder to notify him of her presence. The Bosmer, who was quietly reading some manner of instruction manual in his little corner of the table up until then, quickly assumed a polite smile and turned towards his 'client'. "Ah, good day. Come to pick up your order?"
The Dunmer's silent look spoke for her, so Enthir closed his book and placed it back in his satchel. The man's expression was calm, if a bit annoyed at the distraction. Could have said hello, at least. Alas, it's not his complaints that earned him the niche he occupies today, so he stood up without a word and beckoned the Dragonborn to follow, leading her to the staircase down to the second floor.
As they walked, Saya couldn't help but keep glancing around herself. Even though logically she knew they were alone, and that it was no mystery that Enthir did trade with them all, she still felt like a child desperately trying not to get caught by knowing adults. The nervousness only spiked further when Enthir started picking through his keys, taking his sweet time until he found the one that unlocked his room. With a click, his door opened and the man slipped inside - at which point he immediately shut the door behind himself, locking it again and leaving the Dunmer standing outside, alone.
He emerged a couple minutes later, though they felt more like an eternity. Saya's eyes immediately lit up upon seeing the small metal flask in the man's hands, and she reached out to grab it.
"Tsk-tsk. So impatient." Enthir pulled his hands back, holding the object close to his chest while he locked up the room again. "Payment first."
Saya grimaced at the smug tone of his voice. In a single motion, the small purse she came with was untied from her hip and placed right in the middle of the Bosmer's open palm. Enthir gave it a light toss, smirking contently before he put the coin away and finally handed the flask over. The Dragonborn snatched it from his hand and pulled it close. The next second, she was already going upstairs, getting the hell away without another word.
How rude. Not even a thank you.
He waited for a few more minutes after she left before he got back upstairs. All relaxed-like, he once again sat down and popped open his book as though he had never left. Enthir was a man of business, not words. It was an open secret that he did trade with damn near everyone at the College, but it's not by open advertisement that he got to where he was. And especially not by asking unnecessary questions.
Still, he did have to wonder: what would the Dragonborn need all that blood for?
I have to commend Serana for holding out as long as she did. She really tried not to look excited when she saw what I brought her, but I can recognize the look of a hungry person when I see one. Or rather, I guess it would be "thirsty" in her case.
That being said, we'll have to discuss rationing later. Enthir agreed to keep supplying me if the need arises, but that it's going to cost me. I wouldn't say it to her face, but Serana's diet could eat a very large hole in my purse, and given my lack of jobs in recent days I'm not entirely sure how long I can support it and keep myself fed, at the same time. My agreement with the Archmage hinges on none of the students being harmed, and Winterhold doesn't have a lot of options for Serana to feed on. If we're ever found out…
Well, I guess we'll get to it when we get to it. Maybe I'll figure something out once I sleep on it.
Turdas, the 11th of Evening Star, 4E201
"Again."
"What, seriously? Give me a break, for crying out-"
"Again. You almost had it this time."
Saya groaned, but complied. The growing aches in her arms were beginning to get distracting anyway, to say nothing of the migraine she almost managed to ignore. The group had spent the past two hours in the Hall of Elements, hard at work with their spell practice for the upcoming presentation. Naturally, this included Saya, who was very excited to join in with everyone.
At least, that was the case yesterday. Today, the Dragonborn cursed her own stubbornness for making her declare Lava Whip as her project without giving it any real thought. Just try it again, she thought. Maybe it'll be easier this time, she thought. But alas, the only thing that came easier to her was frustration, and Brelyna's quips from the sidelines were definitely not helping. She wouldn't even be mad about it if she actually gave any constructive criticism or worked on her own project, but no.
Saya soothed herself with the thought that when she inevitably gets it right, Brelyna will be the first person to get a taste.
Thankfully, J'zargo was patient with her, and his coaching was surprisingly helpful. The two took turns helping each other with their spells whenever the other needed a break. Serana was paired with Onmund, giving him some pointers on frost magic last time Saya checked. Elra, meanwhile, was practicing on her lonesome off in the corner, where her stone-shaping wouldn't interfere with any of the other students. Saya felt a little bad for her…
Not bad enough to try and make Brelyna get off her ass, though.
"Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation from the Archmage?" The Khajiit's tone of voice was taunting, but lighthearted. Saya learned rather quickly not to take any of his 'mockeries' too seriously, for her sanity's sake. "Come on, J'zargo knows you have it in you to try a couple more times."
"Alright, alright! I'm doing it, just stop nagging." The Dragonborn let out a heavy sigh and brushed the hair out of her face. She was sweating a fair bit, though she didn't know if it was from the heat of her own magic or just from exhaustion. She made a note in the back of her head to check later if the College had any kind of bath for her to use.
Pushing that thought aside, Saya focused on her spell again. She had already practiced the motion itself to full automation. Raised arm, pull the hand back, and then a swift downward swing. She ran through those movements carefully, letting herself get used to the imaginary weight she was supposed to be pulling, making sure to avoid instinctually flicking her wrist. This has become something of a ritual for her after one of her first attempts, where a small mistake in directing the flames almost resulted in her burning a hole in her shoes. Thus, only when she felt truly comfortable did she allow the magicka to course through her body. Energy seeped through her like water through cloth, following her mind's direction and leaving her hand as a scorching hot streak of flame.
Saya raised her hand, prepared to swing… and it dissipated immediately, like waving your hand over a candle.
"Gods fucking damn it!" Saya grabbed her head with both hands, letting out a loud groan that bordered on a whine. Forty seven attempts, forty seven failures. Fuck, she was really feeling that migraine now.
"Still nothing… And the previous one looked so promising, too," J'zargo said from behind her, sighing. She felt the Khajiit give her a pat on the shoulder. "Maybe it's time for a break after all. Do you need another potion?"
The Dragonborn visibly deflated at the mention of potions. She was positive that she drank more of them in the past week than she has in her entire life up until then. One would think that she'd get used to it by now, but the way her hairs stood on end and her nerves got zapped with every gulp made the tenth time just as unpleasant as the first. "...yeah, thanks. You need help?" Her expression was still sour as she put away the tiny bottle.
J'zargo waved her off. "This one is not so helpless that he needs you watching over him like a little ja'khajiit." He flashed her a brief cocky smile, his feline fangs sticking out and making it look more menacing than he probably intended. He waved her off. "J'zargo will be fine. Go, have your rest. This one will call when you are needed."
She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and walking off. She didn't really want to admit it, but she felt exhausted. Potions only carry a person so far when their natural energy reserves are expended, and she was very quickly approaching that limit. Her eyes wandered to the windows, or rather the holes in the walls that the College called 'windows'. She was tempted to go for a walk, but the thick snowfall dissuaded her. The snowflakes bumping into the College's protective barrier, disappearing like they were never there…
She sighed and sat down on the window frame, casting another disinterested glance over the room. J'zargo's experimental flame cloak seemed to be working, but she could see the tongues of flame lashing out at the edges. Still unstable. Brelyna was reading something, paying no attention to anything going on around her, and Saya wondered why she stuck around at all. She could just as easily read back at the dorms if she wanted, yet here she was. Elra was still alone in her corner, eyes closed and brows furrowed as one of her hands was completely coated in… something. A grey substance Saya didn't quite recognize. She'd find out what it is later anyway.
Finally, to her right, she saw Onmund and Serana. Both of them were absolutely silent, Onmund's face showing nothing but utmost concentration as he stared at the palm of his hand. The vampire by his side observed him attentively with those brown eyes of hers, offering some quiet words of encouragement to help direct his thoughts. Saya watched the white magical mist gather around his hand, which slowly curled into a fist. The moisture in the air crystallized into tiny snowflakes, shining and floating down to the ground. The tension in his expression was palpable, and she could've sworn that she could see the inkling of an icicle beginning to form right above his hand…
And then it all came crashing down when he lowered his arm and stumbled to the nearest pillar, barely holding himself up. His breathing was ragged and shaky, and he looked a little paler than normal. Saya winced, half-expecting the lad to throw up, but he managed to control his urges. "I… I don't understand, why didn't it work?"
"I am unsure…" Serana stepped closer, worriedly looking over his shoulder. For a moment, Saya contemplated intervening. "Did you get distracted during that last attempt? What were you thinking about?"
Onmund huffed, trying to stand straight once more, but his valiant attempt was very quickly foiled by his wobbly legs. The young man quickly fell back to the pillar, leaning onto it and slowly sliding down to the floor. He looked drained - if not physically, then emotionally. "I did everything as you said. I really… really don't know."
Serana's mouth twitched into a slight frown - an expression that Saya has gotten all too acquainted with lately. However, she quickly shook it off in favor of a small, friendly smile, and crouched down next to him. "Could you walk me through your thoughts, then?"
Onmund gave her a look, but he didn't have it in him to refuse. He rested his head against the pillar, brushing away the hair from his face. "Well, the first thing I thought of was the cold, like you told me to." Serana nodded along, sitting down next to him as she listened. "I imagined the magic coming out of me as this… snowy cloud."
"Mhm. And then?"
"I…" He rubbed his forehead. Remembering something as minute as random thoughts in a tense moment was proving very difficult, and this headache of his definitely wasn't helping. "I was… trying to shape that cloud. Make it freeze over. But it just kept snowing and… it was like I was trying to catch every single snowflake, one by one-"
"There's your mistake," Serana declared, shaking her head. Onmund looked at her, surprised. "You unconsciously separated your own frost magic from the things it creates. So when you reached the final step, you got lost. Here, let me show you." She lifted her hand as she did so. A moment later, a fine pale mist began to form above her palm. "You already have a grasp of this step. Your magicka freezes the vapor around you, and you get snow. But here…" She formed a fist, and the mist condensed rapidly, a series of small crystals forming above her hand. Tiny, messy crystals that kept breaking up and coming back together, all within a small cloud of magical frost. "...is where you made your mistake. Can you tell me what's wrong with what I am showing?"
Onmund looked closely at the spell before him. "Well, it's… not one icicle. It's a load of tiny little ones."
Serana nodded slowly. "And why is that?"
He paused, thinking. It looked like a miniature snowstorm, almost. The magical frost kept swirling about, and the different crystals spun with it... Suddenly, it clicked. Onmund snapped his fingers. "The frost. It's coming from your hand, not from the shards."
"Exactly." She smiled. "The frost and the ice are completely separated. It may look like I'm controlling both, but if you pay attention…" She pulled her hand back, letting the spell fizzle out, and the small pieces of ice immediately melted. "I was only conjuring the frost all along. This is where the problem lies: you were trying to move the water itself, but that is not what the spell is supposed to do. Now look." She lifted her hand again, summoning the cold magic once more. Again, she made a fist - but this time, the entire cloud rapidly pulled together, forming a single massive ice spike that floated above her hand. Saya squinted, and she could just barely see the pale mist coming off the ice.
"Wait, I think I got it!"
"Did you now?" The vampire smiled, dispelling the projectile before she rose to her feet and offered Onmund a hand. The Nord got up energetically, all but beaming at his sudden realization. "Do you want to try again?"
Onmund did not respond, but immediately got into position for spellcasting. He extended his dominant arm and took a deep breath before allowing the magicka to run its course through his limbs. He closed his eyes, letting his imagination run wild before reining it in, directing it where he wanted. The tiny wisps of frost magic began to come together, an amorphous clump of cold air swirling above his palm. He took a moment to steady his nerves, slowing his breath down until he could practically hear his own heartbeat in his ears. And then, he clenched his hand into a fist.
He heard a gasp coming from his side. Onmund opened his eyes, and immediately broke into a triumphant laugh. Floating right above his hand, he saw a clump of ice about half the size of his head. It wasn't perfect by any means - its shape was practically nonexistent, it had no edges or points to speak of, and it looked like it would break apart at the slightest nudge, but gods damn it - it was there. It was really there!
"See? You did it!" Serana clapped excitedly, a proud grin plastered all over her face. Saya suppressed the urge to giggle at her expression. "Did you figure it out?"
"I- I think so?" His voice was full of energy, both happy and nervous. He seemed almost afraid of lowering his hand, knowing full well that his creation would disappear the moment he lost concentration. "I just pictured- ah damnit!" His fear was quickly justified as a massive crack ran down the middle of the ice chunk the moment he looked away from it. He quickly lifted both of his hands to try and catch it-
-and immediately realized his mistake when the object dematerialized completely, turning to nothing, and an awkward silence befell the two.
"W-We can work on keeping the shape later." Serana was very obvious in her attempt to suppress her laughter. It was not a very successful attempt. "But look, you got it this time! That's a massive step forward already!"
Onmund laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah… assuming this wasn't just a fluke and I can do it again."
The vampire crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Well then, I suppose we will have to hammer it in you until you can do it again, on demand and at whim." Onmund gave her a terrified look and her expression softened. "You'll get it eventually, I promise. It's much easier after the first time. The important thing to remember is that mental image. Do not separate the energy from the product. You are a mage, so your role is to shape the magic itself. Everything else will follow your lead."
"I guess so." Onmund smiled sheepishly. Truth be told, he would've probably given up a lot sooner if he were alone. It almost felt like Serana wanted him to succeed more than he did. "I think I'll have a short breather and then try again."
"That's the spirit!"
Saya snorted inwardly, sighed, and turned around on her heel. As much as she contemplated joining the conversation, she didn't really want either of them to catch her staring. With his current pace, Onmund could probably learn the spell by the end of this week. Serana was an unexpectedly good teacher, too. The Dragonborn hummed thoughtfully. Maybe she could even learn a thing or two, herself…
"Hey, Dragonborn!" Saya was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts by someone calling to her. She stopped in her aimless tracks and pivoted around, seeing a very fired up J'zargo. Actually, upon closer inspection, he might actually be on fire… Oh right, the flame cloak. "J'zargo has finally got it under control! Look!" The Khajiit turned almost proudly, displaying the magical veil of radiant flame covering his entire body. Saya let out a quiet 'ooh' and J'zargo immediately stuck up his chin, grinning. "Hah! Cannot contain your awe, can you? You should feel lucky, having witnessed J'zargo's moment of triumph! Worry not, when he is Archmage, J'zargo will not forget your contributions!"
Immediately, the image of J'zargo in the Archmage's robes came up in her mind… with two ear-shaped pockets in the hood. Saya snickered. "Why, your grace, you are just too kind. I am well and truly humbled."
"As well you should be!" The Khajiit broke out into a bellowing laugh, his chest puffed-up and both hands on his hips. In the corner of her vision, Saya could see Brelyna rolling her eyes and sticking fingers in her ears. When the exaggerated display was done, however, J'zargo dispelled the cloak with a wave of his hand and spoke in a much calmer tone. "That said, this one believes he's had enough for today. J'zargo thanks you for your help."
"Don't mention it." She snorted, waving him off. Not like he had much to thank her for anyway. She mostly just sat around while he practiced and helped put out his clothes if they ever caught fire. "Will you be heading out, then?"
"Indeed. It is almost time for this one's midday nap." J'zargo crossed his arms as he spoke, almost purring when he mentioned the nap. Then, he cocked his head quizzically. "Why do you ask? Did you need more help?"
Saya contemplated the offer for a moment. Her eyes ran up and down J'zargo, as if evaluating him. He looked visibly tired, but equally happy with himself - that very peculiar mix of energy and exhaustion that could make you run on fumes for hours, provided you're motivated enough. At the same time, she did take a break as per his advice, so it would be a bit hypocritical to not allow him the same. "I… guess not. Just curious."
The Khajiit squinted suspiciously, but said nothing. He gave her a small nod of acknowledgement and walked past her. Saya watched him for a moment, somewhat amused by the spring in his step, right up until he finally left the Hall. The Dragonborn sighed then, wondering what it really is that she wanted to do now. Part of her wanted to try practicing some more, while the other part wanted to keel over and collapse into the nearest bed after a nice, hot bath. And even then, what could she do that she hadn't already tried? Brute-forcing it wasn't an option. She wasn't lacking in the energy department, or the power. So what was it that was missing…?
Your role is to shape the magic itself. Everything else will follow your lead.
Suddenly, Saya had an epiphany. Without a moment's delay, she dashed out of the Hall of Elements, not even bothering to close the door behind her before she yelled: "Wait, J'zargo! Before you go!"
J'zargo stopped just shy of exiting the building, turning to look at the Dragonborn. "Yes?"
"I- well, I actually had a couple of ideas I wanted to try. I might need your help after all."
The Khajiit raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly. He backed away from the door, letting the breeze close it as he shrugged dramatically. "Very well. J'zargo believes he can spare a few more minutes of his time. What did you have planned?"
"Well…" Saya glanced back, letting her eyes linger on Serana and Onmund for just a couple seconds. Then, she grinned. "How much do you know about frost magic?"
My hands are shaking and I think my fingers might just fall off but IT WORKED, IT ACTUALLY WORKED!
I mean, I couldn't get the whip itself to work, but I managed to make my flames solid! I did the same thing that Serana taught to Onmund - instead of trying to reshape the fire itself, I tried changing the properties of my own magicka as I cast the spell, and I ended up with this… ball. I don't really know how to describe it, even. It didn't look like a fireball, more like a big orb of lava except it was also on fire. It was even dripping bits of liquid flame - I can attest to it personally, some of it fell on my boot and now there's a black spot where it almost burned through.
Thank Seht that I had the foresight to not wear any actual armor. I don't want to know how my sabatons would've looked after a quick dip in lava.
After that, I was completely and utterly worn out, so I went to rest up and meditate for a while. Haven't done that in a hot minute. I still have the "assignment" from Urag to work on, but I honestly just want to turn over and go to bed. The sun isn't even completely down yet.
Mess.
My nap was interrupted. I'm groggy as fuck and my skull feels like it's gonna split in two. Very pleasant sensation to feel for thirty uninterrupted minutes, let me tell you. But hey, at least I'll actually sleep tonight, so there is a bright side.
Serana woke me up, and I would be a liar if I said I wasn't annoyed, but there was a good reason for it. Apparently, some part of me missed that it was Serana's turn to cook dinner today, and she didn't know how to cook. As in, at all. If she had any cooking skills at any point in her life, they have long since been forgotten.
Vampirism will do that to you, I guess. Though, she probably had servants to do the cooking for her even as a kid. Shit, that's just sad. I'm definitely teaching her to cook stuff later on.
Regardless, we whipped up some stuff together. Winterhold isn't exactly Falkreath or Deshaan, so our options were pretty limited. After some consideration, we settled on roast rabbit with garlic and some spices I still had left over from last time we went shopping. Not much in terms of vegetables, but we made do. Really makes me appreciate just how good people have it in cities with functioning trade.
The Dragonborn's eyes scanned the piece of paper in her hands. At a glance, everything seemed fine, but she still found herself squinting, tripping over the words. The individual letters were blurring in her vision, and she couldn't tell if fatigue was to blame or not. After spending so much time reading and re-reading draconic symbols, her brain was struggling to process simple Tamrielic, even if it was her own handwriting.
Whatever. It looks fine. She'll write back if she has questions.
Saya turned in her seat and immediately, her expression softened and a smile snuck its way onto her lips. Serana was lying in her bed, quietly laughing and whispering half-hearted reprimands to the bird hopping back and forth on her stomach. Kura looked a little different today, less like a falcon and more like a… what was it, a swift? The Dunmer snorted internally. A s'wit is what it is, if its current behavior is anything to go off. But Serana seemed to take a liking to the little Daedra's antics, and their playing together made for decent white noise while Saya did much less exciting things. For example, writing letters to Fortunata to keep her up-to-date on her findings.
"You two having fun?" She finally spoke up, leaning on the back of her chair. The two turned towards the source of the voice with wide eyes, as if they suddenly became aware of having been observed. Saya stifled a giggle. "Time to get to work, little bud." She lifted the piece of paper in her hand, waving it demonstratively.
Until now, Saya didn't know that birds could sound displeased, but the sound Kura made couldn't be described any other way. The little familiar turned to Serana, on whose chest it was currently sitting, and tilted its head as if looking for sympathy. The vampire smiled, reaching for the bird and carefully scratching its little head. "You heard the lady. We can play next time, alright?" Kura chirped again, still slightly disgruntled but resigned to its fate. "Good. Now, off you go."
At Serana's words, the little bird obediently hopped off her body and flapped its wings once, twice, before eventually landing on Saya's desk. In an already tried and learned process, Kura lifted its leg and stretched it out, permitting its summoner to carefully tie the piece of paper to it. The Dragonborn then offered her arm, allowing the bird to hop on and be carried outside the room. There, it exchanged one more glance with Saya, chirped her goodbye, and promptly flew out the window into the twilight sky.
"Are you all done for today?" Serana asked. Without responding, the Dunmer closed the door behind herself and shambled over towards the bed. The vampire pulled up her legs and scooched up higher onto the pillow, and seconds later Saya came crashing down across the bed and buried her face in the blanket. "I'll… take that as a yes." Serana giggled.
"I don't want to see another dragon glyph ever again." Saya's voice came out muffled, barely comprehensible. She sighed, and then turned her head on the side, looking at Serana with half-closed eyes. The vampire smiled.
"Are you tired?"
To the best of her ability, Saya shook her head. "Tired doesn't cut it. I feel like I might fall asleep if I blink too slowly." With the grace of a fat scrib, she flipped over onto her back and stretched out, almost purring as the tension left her muscles. She was still aching all over, but it was definitely an improvement over how she felt some hours earlier. "What about you? Tutoring job treating you well?"
Serana blinked, initially confused but quickly catching on to what Saya meant. "Oh! Do you mean Onmund?" Saya raised a quizzical eyebrow, as if asking what else she could possibly mean. "I'm no tutor, I only gave him some advice. He's very smart. Frankly, I'm surprised he needed my help at all."
"Right. Okay." The Dragonborn snorted at the sudden increase in Serana's voice pitch. "How did that whole thing happen anyway? I'm guessing you didn't offer."
"No, I did not." Serana nodded, and then retreated into her thoughts. She had a very obvious tell for that, Saya noticed - whenever the vampire was trying to remember something, she would start poking her own cheek while looking up and away. If she were thinking rather than recalling, she'd touch her chin instead. It was fun to watch, in a sort of creepy way. "Yesterday, he approached me asking for help with his project. This was part of his request."
Saya hummed. "Now that I think about it, I never learned what he was actually researching. I'm guessing it's something related to frost magic, then?"
"Oh no, not at all." Serana waved her hand dismissively. "Our training was just part of the preparations for an expedition. Onmund said his project was to retrieve some kind of ancient regalia from a barrow he recently discovered. Those lessons from today were just to help him learn how to defend himself."
"Expedition?" Saya's ears perked up. This was the first she was hearing about any of this. Then again, she hadn't talked to Onmund much. "Where to? When were you planning to leave?"
"It is an ancient crypt called Ironbind Barrow, somewhere south of here," Serana explained in a somewhat matter-of-fact manner. "We were planning to leave tomorrow."
"What?" Saya practically jumped up into a sitting position. Tomorrow? And she was only learning of this now? "Wait, so you two were just going to sneak out? Alone?"
"Well, no." Serana's expression grew visibly less comfortable. She was touching her chin. "Onmund got permission from the Master Wizard. We talked to everyone and asked if they wanted to help out with the supplies, as well. I spoke with Elra, Onmund went to J'zargo, I think one of them got Brelyna involved, too…"
"So… everyone except for me," she finished the list for her, and whatever words Serana had left unspoken got stuck in her throat. A heavy silence descended upon the room.
Neither of them made a sound for a few torturously long seconds, until Saya let out a quiet sigh and wordlessly stood up. She got off the bed and sat down behind her desk again, picking up her pencil and idly tapping the paper a few times. She was bouncing her leg, though she didn't intend to. She wanted to write something, just to get her thoughts on something else, but she couldn't focus on anything now. She didn't entirely understand why she was feeling this way. After all, it wasn't Saya's job to be Serana's caretaker or anything. They've only known each other for a week. She shouldn't be bothered.
So why did she feel so oddly… betrayed?
"I… considered telling you," Serana said. Saya heard the bed creak slightly behind her as the vampire awkwardly sat up, the awkward atmosphere in the room making it too uncomfortable for her to remain lying down. "But I did not know if you would be interested… And you already have so many things to worry about, like that work for master Urag." She twiddled her thumbs as she spoke. Saya couldn't tell if it was an excuse or not.
"So you decided it'd be better to just keep me in the dark?" Saya replied. Immediately, she wanted to take the words back. They were a little too loud. A little too bitter. But the thought crossed her too late, so by the time she looked back at Serana, the vampire was already sitting there stiff as a statue, glassy eyes staring shamefully at the floor. Any anger she might've felt in that moment immediately turned to guilt. "I'm… It's not like I'm chained down here, you know. Maybe I do want to come with you."
"I… okay." Serana's voice was quiet and breathy, like a whisper. Saya felt a tightness in her chest the moment she heard it. She stood up from her chair and walked over to Serana, crouching on the floor in front of her. The vampire met her eyes by accident and immediately looked away, her fingers tightly grasping the cloth of her cloak. "...I'm sorry. I won't be bothering you anymore," she said.
Without another warning, Serana stood up from the bed. Her eyes briefly stopped on Saya, whose mouth was open as if she wanted to say something - she wanted her to say something. But the silence remained, and instead they both slowly averted their eyes from each other's faces. Serana drew in a sharp breath and stepped aside, heading for the exit with silent commitment.
And without another word, she opened the door and closed it behind herself.
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now. I guess after this, it would be rude of me not to come with everyone else. Though, now I'm not sure if I even want to be there.
Or if any of them want me there.
I think I'm just still shaken from what happened. I don't even know why. It's not like Serana owes me a full report on anything she does or says. It's not any of my business either way. I'm not Isran and I'm not her caretaker. I'm just someone she happened to meet one day and whom she now travels with because we have a common goal. That's all.
…damn it. I hate this. I feel awful. I want to be mad. I want to just blame her and be done with it, but I can't do it. I just can't.
I'm sorry, mom. You raised a hypocrite.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really can't blame her for keeping secrets, can I? Not after how I never told her I'm Dragonborn, or anything about what I'm doing. About the Blades, about Alduin, about anything that's been going on. All I've done thus far was just drag her around like a puppy while doing my business, and expecting her to go along with it without a word. And now the moment she has something she wants to do on her own without involving me, I throw a tantrum like a fucking child.
I'm just a nobody. Just a nobody that she met by complete chance and has only known for a couple days longer than anyone here, at the College. And the people here have treated her nicely and taught her new things. What have I done besides sit here and write all day? Tell her that I'm working, even though I'm not a single step closer to finding the Elder Scrolls? Give her a pep talk and a hug and pretend that I fixed everything?
…I'm disgusting.
Maybe that's why she doesn't want me around.