The Unlikely Companions – Chapter 4
Every eve, the prominent inhabitants of Dragonsreach would gather at the long tables surrounding the fire for dinner with the Jarl and his family. Unlike other evenings, however, the atmosphere held a certain tension of anticipation. "I'm certain Irileth is fine, my Jarl, it is just the merchant's encampment that could've prohibit-,"
"I'm well-aware, Proventus." Balgruuf snapped. "Irileth will be fine. She's my House Carl for a reason but that doesn't mean I like her running late." Granted, he was worried, but he knew that Irileth would be fine "Farengar!"
The Jarl had called his name so sudden and loud that Farengar sent his spoon flying. The mage took a sharp breath to conceal how he swore under his breath. The laughter of the Jarl's children, (Frothar, Dagny and Nelkir) was drowned out by that of Hrongar. "Gentle with our Court-Wizard, my brother! You know how soft he is."
Normally, Balgruuf would have laughed and apologized, but the Jarl had been impatient and tense. As if the safety and neutrality of his Hold because of this Civil War hadn't been enough already! More and more came with the persistent desire for answers from all kinds of folks about Helgen, its fate and dragons. And he could give no answer and though he held steadfast and strong, he was forced to wait, helpless. But in the meantime the figurative wolves that were the Empire and the rebellion kept circling around him, inching closer and closer. His eyes lingered on the Court-Wizard. "Any progress on your research yet, Farengar?"
Farengar refrained from heaving an agitated sigh as not to offend his Jarl. He very well understood Balgruuf's predicament. But sick and tired of the ridicule he received from time to time, he clenched his hands into fists under the table. "Well, your protégé has hopefully gone off to retrieve what I need as asked. Until then, there are a few variables I will have to research with my resource, but I will. Need. Time." He then got up. So much for a peaceful dinner. "So if you will excuse me, I will be returning to that."
Not that he was planning to do any of that. He was so stressed that instead, he planned to spend the evening tinkering with enchantments, potions or perhaps read a good book to relax. But upon reaching his quarters, his face fell into an expression of dismay when he laid eyes on the woman who had been waiting there for him. She would definitely put a damper on his plans.
This woman was the 'reliable resource' he'd been referring too; a mysterious Breton clad in leather armour and her face went partially hidden under the shadow of her hood. But from the few glimpses he'd caught of her face, Farengar estimated her to be about sixty years old. She stood leaning against the support beam that hid her from the sight of anyone who'd pass by. "Good to see you, Farengar. Have you made any progress at all?"
Farengar narrowed his eyes at her, "In case it eluded you, I'm the Jarl's Court Wizard and I'm not permitted the lenience to neglect my day-to-day tasks." He grabbed the orange, leather-bound book from a nearby bookshelf and slammed it down on the table for her to read.
The woman ignored Farengar's outburst and she skipped through the book's pages. "Holdings of Jarl Gjalund…?" She raised a questioning brow.
Do I really need to spell this out for you? Farengar rolled his eyes and joined her side. "If you read closely, you can tell the terminology is form the First Era, if not earlier," he explained and he tapped on the sections he was referring too. "It seems here that it's all dated just after the Dragon War, meaning I could cross-reference the names with other, later texts."
"So you have made progress." The woman concluded in the same, bossy tone Farengar found harder and harder to tolerate. "My employers have been eager for tangible answers."
"We've received word from what happened to Helgen earlier today." He studied her facial expressions to see how she'd react. She merely gave a nod. She probably already knew…somehow. "Hopefully, the Jarl will permit me to devote more time to this research."
"I don't think I need to tell you that this is just some 'theory' you're delving into, Farengar," the woman reminded him in a stern, hushed tone. "Dragons have returned and they're destroying cities, killing people."
"Yes, of course, but could you-," Farengar's voice trailed off when the woman's gaze locked onto something…or rather, someone else.
I didn't even hear him…The nameless Dark Elf had returned, but he was no longer wearing that shoddy tunic to hide his one-of-a-kind armour. It was made of a peculiar dark leather and he could detect the subtle hint of strong enchantments on the pieces. "Have you been successful in retrieving the tablet like I've asked you?"
Ganir merely raised the bag that contained the Dragonstone, but his distrusting gaze never left the woman's. He'd seen her sweep the porch of the Sleeping Giant Inn back in Riverwood. Who was she really if she was here in this whole cloak and dagger get-up? He didn't like either theories came to mind, but it'd have to wait for now. "It's yours if you got your payment ready."
"If you don't mind, I'll want to-,"
"Farengar!" Irileth had come storming into his study, startling the Court-mage who swore under his breath. "You need to come at once. A dragon was spotted nearby!"
Both Ganir and the woman ceased to glare at one another and their heads snapped in Irileth's direction. Cirilonde…Ganir tried to appear as calm as possible. Could this be the same dragon they'd seen at Helgen?
"And you, stranger," Irileth snapped at Ganir. "The Jarl will want you to come as well." Though he'd proven himself to be somewhat reliable by actually completing Farengar's little task, she still had plenty more reasons to distrust him. All she knew was that he travelled together with an Altmer female and the both of them had come from Helgen to Riverwood…And shortly after their arrival in Whiterun, a dragon suddenly appeared.
Ganir wished he could convince himself that none of this was his concern or problem. It wasn't, but he needed the horses from the Jarl. He'd also be lying to himself if he didn't admit to be curious about this dragon. Was it the same from Helgen? Even if he didn't like the idea of being called upon again, he didn't seem to have much choice in the matter and grudgingly followed Irileth and Farengar up to the briefing room, which was up the stairs behind the throne room.
The walls of this rather large room were decorated with tapestries, weapons and shields bearing the weapon of Whiterun. Save for Whiterun, countless, coloured pawns indicated what part of Skyrim was under Imperial or Stormcloak control; a clear indicator of Jarl Balgruuf's predicament only worsened by the appearance of this dragon. Ganir looked at the young guardsman that stood shaking in his boots next to Jarl Balgruuf. He must have been about seventeen or so and had yet to properly grow into his armour.
The Jarl gave the Dark Elf a nod of acknowledgement before he turned his attention to the guard again. "I'll need you to tell us again what happened," he said to the guard.
The young man told them he'd just finished his rounds and was headed up the tower for a meal. He was startled by the shriek of his comrades who were nearly sent flying from the tower by a dragon. This beast had not merely flown by but had torn the tower apart in an attempt to have the guards for a meal, leaving them trapped in the building. After what seemed ages, it flew off and only he had the wits about him to run for the city to raise the alarm.
"Thank you. You've done well. You may retreat to your barracks for the night." Balgruuf gave the young man an approving pat on the shoulder and then turned to Irileth. "Like wolves, there's a big chance that this dragon might return. I'll need you to gather some men."
The House-Carl made to turn on her heel when the Jarl continued.
"Remember, Irileth, this isn't a do or die mission. We need to find out what we're up against and if we can kill it." He then looked at Ganir, "Don't think I've forgotten about our deal, stranger, but given your skills and experience, I'd like to call upon you for a final time."
"I want two horses saddled then," was all Ganir said. Definitely no way out from this one…Cirilonde is not going to be happy. But for a dragon to appear so shortly after what happened to Helgen… He didn't like that either, nor had he forgotten…
While she waited for Ganir, Cirilonde had wandered around the camp and gotten herself something to eat. She found herself a nice spot near the city walls from where she could overlook the entire camp and the fields beyond. For the first time in a while, she felt like she could relax a little and enjoyed her meal while she watched the kids play or gather around the fire to listen to the music and tales of a bard. The grown-ups gathered around their fires talking business or gossip in hushed tones.
This rather peaceful scene was disturbed when a lone guardsman came running from the fields and many heads turned to see as to what was going on. Cirilonde frowned at the sight as well, because even though the guardsman's face was hidden under his helmet, she could tell he wasn't just in a hurry. He nearly stumbled over himself when he finally made it to his comrades at the gates and he leaned on his knees to catch his breath. Only a handful of merchants had noticed what Cirilonde had and she strained her ears to pick up what was said. "Just let me in. Dragonsreach. Quick."
Once the guard had gone through a smaller door in the gate and disappeared out of sight, everyone who'd been in the close perimeter carried on about their business. But Cirilonde couldn't help but find it strange and troubling that this guard had come running all by himself from the fields.
She idly cast her gaze to where the man had come running from and she briefly shook her head in disbelief as to how no one could've seen this (*1). She rubbed her eyes and squinted them after blinking repeatedly to make sure she wasn't just seeing things.
In the distance, she had seen the silhouette of what the locals told her to be the northern watch tower. But surely…Rather than call for alarm to not cause panic, Cirilonde looked closer. No, it must have been a trick of the mind…
Cirilonde's heart leapt when the Whiterun city gates burst open and a group of men on horseback galloped outside. They were led by a fierce-looking and red-haired Dunmer woman clad in leather armour.
"You there!" she turned her horse so she could properly face the three guardsmen who'd been posted at the gate. "Gather everyone from the camp and get them into the city. Now!" After signalling for the horsemen to follow her, she dug the heels of her boots into her horse's flanks and the group rushed down the road, forcing some people to dive out of their way.
The canter of hooves made Cirilonde look up at her side to see Ganir sat on horseback, holding on to the reins of a dappled mare. The both of them, like everyone else, looked where the horsemen had gone and the locals were clearly unsettled to see smoke emitting from the watch tower.
It was then that chaos broke out and everyone scurried to not only gather their belongings, but also their children and hurry to the safety behind the city's walls. "It's the damned Stormcloaks!"
"Get out of my way!" one of the merchants yelled as he pushed everyone out of his way.
"Don't panic, we have everything under control!" The guards yelled.
When Ganir handed Cirilonde the reins of the mare, she climbed onto its back so she wouldn't get dragged away by the distraught crowd. Before she could even ask, "Dragon" was all the response she needed to hear and the two elves followed Whiterun's horsemen.
The horses' hooves thundered down the cobbled road and they caught up with Irileth and her men some distance away from the North watch-tower. They halted when the Dark Elf woman raised her fist. "This doesn't look good," Irileth said.
The dragon had clearly attempted to set fire to the tower, causing the stone to become searing hot and smoulder. The banner that had hung from the tower had also caught fire which caused the smoke. Frustrated, the dragon had torn and rammed away at the stone, leaving holes in the tower. It was a miracle it hadn't collapsed yet.
"What's your call, Irileth?" one of the men asked. The horses bristled and scraped their hooves as they were not at ease either.
The Dunmer House Carl said nothing and glanced over her shoulder at Ganir and Cirilonde with narrowed eyes. Everything went haywire the moment these outlanders showed up…
"We best have a look to see if anyone's still inside. Keep an eye on the sky, men and let's go."
Only one of the men stayed back to hold onto the horses while Irileth and her men cautiously made their way over to the tower. Cirilonde laid her hand on Ganir's shoulder and only then he broke his gaze from the tower. "Are you sure we should get involved with this?"
"Trust me, I didn't want too." Ganir replied in a hushed tone. "But I want to know whether this is the same dragon we saw in Helgen. Then we'll be on our way as I have no intention of fighting it, should it show."
Cirilonde nodded and her eyes sought the sky for the dragon before looking at the tower.
She wanted to write the dragon's appearance in Helgen off as a coincidence, but deep down, she knew better. But all the same, she didn't know what it meant aside from the fact it had bought the Stormcloaks and them the chance to escape. If this was the same dragon from Helgen, did it mean it was following them? And she certainly hadn't forgotten what had happened to Ganir in the barrows either. That wall had affected him somehow.
Ganir and she both shared the sentiment they weren't eager to be dragged into this but they needed answers. Not to mention, if they were to flee, this 'Irileth' and her men would no doubt brand them as scapegoats.
"Let's secure the horses and get going," she finally said and dismounted. "But I can't say I like it."
"Neither do I." Ganir assured her and he watched her secure the reins to a thick root that sprouted from under a rock.
"It's the house Carl!" The two elves' heads shot up when they heard a cry come from the tower and two men stood huddled in the entry way of the guard tower, gesturing frantically for their comrades to keep their distance. "Stay back, Irileth! It could be back any minute! Didn't you see?!"
"What are you prattling on about?" Irileth snapped. "We've not-,"
The Dunmer and her men spun around when a roar came from the skies near the mountains surrounding Bleak Falls Barrow. Cirilonde and Ganir both tensed and met eyes as they both were uncertain whether to be comforted or troubled by the fact that this dragon was not the same they'd seen in Helgen.
Even with its wings spread wide, it wasn't as large as the black one from Helgen. The sun made the dragon's white and green scales glitter and it swooped down over the tower, opening its maw. Irileth and her men dove into the building for cover. "YOL TOOR SHUL!"
The guard who'd stayed behind was trampled by the horses he'd held on too as the beasts broke out in panic and ran off. Two of the men were too late to find cover in the tower and were burned alive by the flames that erupted from the dragon's maw.
Cirilonde jumped away with Ganir lest they got kicked by their horses as well and after casting a calming spell on them, she looked at Ganir. The Dark Elf stood frozen, overwhelmed by a familiar sensation of fear and vigour he hadn't shared with Cirilonde. He couldn't break away his gaze from the dragon as he had been unable to do so from the black one back in Helgen. His pupils had dilated and he felt this 'pulse' surge through him like the fiery beating of a drum.
He wasn't sure, but unless he was mistaken, the dragon was struck by the same sensation as he and it swerved to turn mid-air and flew towards them. "Ganir-!" Cirilonde's eyes went wide and she tried to pull him away when he drew his bow and knocked an arrow.
He felt like he was shaking, but his hand was steady and even over the distance, he could feel the dragon's eyes were on him. "GO, CIRI!" he yelled as he pulled the string back.
Cirilonde didn't get the time to choose and ran to take cover behind the rock formation near the tower. The gale from the dragon's wings did not waver Ganir's stance or aim and when the dragon opened its maw, Ganir released the arrow. The dragon's roar echoed through the valley when the arrow lodged itself into the dragon's palate. It shook its head to get rid of the arrow that was stuck in its mouth and as a consequence, staggered in flight, nearly crashing into the tower. Though the arrowhead was still stuck, it managed to break part of the arrow and recover its trajectory by kicking off from the ground to shoot skyward again.
Cirilonde dared peek over the stone from her hiding place when the beast flew away. She could hear Irileth swear profoundly in the Dunmer language as they all watched the dragon fly off and ready itself for another attack. "Stay out of its flightpath and ready your bows and arrows. Shoot when ready!" Irileth yelled at her men who lined up to do so.
The dragon flew low over them and knocked them off their feet, smashing its tail down onto the ground. Luckily for Irileth and her men, they were not harmed yet, but Cirilonde and Ganir shook their heads in disbelief when the dragon…laughed? "Prem, joor! Dinok bo fah hi!"
It flashed before Ganir's eyes as he thought of the dragon in Helgen and the powerful Draugr they'd faced in Bleak Falls Barrow and it all fell into place when he realized that the dragon wasn't just simply snarling and roaring but that it was speaking.
"Ganir, we need to get out of here!" Cirilonde grabbed hold of the Dark Elf's arm in an attempt to shake him out of whatever daze had grabbed hold of him. "It's not safe here!"
"Get to the higher ground to get a better aim!" One of the guardsmen had climbed on the rubble but it was the last mistake he and the other man who joined him, made. They had hoped to get a clear shot of the dragon that was headed towards them, but it made a sudden, swift turn when they released their arrows and the dragon flew around the tower. The Dragon was now behind them and one of the men was swallowed whole and alive. The other was crushed under the dragon's spiked tail.
Irileth felt her body go rigid when the horrible realization dawned on her that though they could definitely harm this dragon, their hands were tied as long as it was airborne. So what was this damn fool thinking, standing out there in the open with that High Elf, with a bow and arrow at the ready?!
"Just run Ciri!" the Dark Elf snapped at her and he pushed her away. "I'll draw its attention. Just go!"
"This isn't a do or die mission, Irileth." Balgruuf's words rang clear in Irileth's ears and she looked at the dragon that spread its wings to land on top of the tower. She didn't trust either of these strangers, but she had a duty as House Carl to protect the people of Whiterun whether they lived there or not.
The tower shook and threatened to crumble under the dragon's weight when it landed on top of it. "Ag, fahlil!" The beast snarled and dug its talons into the stone. The dragon bared his teeth spit fire at Irileth. "YOL!"
Irileth bolted from her hiding place and she felt the heat of the flames scorch the earth she'd stood seconds ago. Thankfully, her Dark Elven blood had protected her from the fire's heat.
She ran towards and grabbed hold of Cirilonde in an attempt to drag her along. "Come on, we need to get out of here!"
When the dragon turned its attention to the two elven women, Ganir released an arrow to get the dragon's attention again but was unsuccessful. The arrow ricocheted off the thick beast's hide and scales. When the two women made to run, the beast leapt and gave chase.
Irileth looked over her shoulder when the dragon overshadowed them and threw both herself and Cirilonde to the ground. "Get down!" The dragon's tail spikes swung over them by just and the gale from the mighty dragon's wings kept them pressed to the ground.
Cirilonde and Irileth tried to scramble to their feet but froze when the ground shook and the dragon landed in front of them. Cirilonde's eyes locked on to the golden-brown eyes of the dragon who slammed its wing talons into the earth as it inched closer. "Hi fen wahl flogah kipraan, fahliil," it snarled.
The dragon pulled its head back to lash out but Irileth shot to her feet with her spiked shield at the ready and she rammed it against the dragon's nose. She had then planned to attack with her sword but the impact of the dragon's snout didn't just shatter the shield, but also the bones in her right arm. It was a horrible sound and pain. She cried out, falling back against Cirilonde who stood frozen in fear. Her mind reeled to think of what to do.
The dragon shook its head to rid its maw and nostrils of the splinters and it was then that Ganir decided it was now or never. He released the arrow he'd readied and the arrow's head hit the mark, obliterating the dragon's left eye. The dragon reared on its hind legs and its deafening roar was one of anguish and rage. It flailed about until the worst pain subsided and it was aware of what had happened, it turned to lock onto the culprit that bought the other two elves the time to get away. Though Ganir was most relieved he'd helped Cirilonde and Irileth escape, he swallowed when he now stood face to face with a furious dragon. I didn't think this through…
The beast had pulled its leathery lips up into a snarl, its rage fueled by the painful, ghastly wound it had sustained by Ganir's hand. The broken arrow was still stuck in the eye-socket and blood poured from the wound, staining the scales and the ground red in a matter of seconds. Ganir wasn't sure what this strange 'shiver' was that ran down his spine when his red eyes looked into the dragon's remaining one.
Ganir shrieked when the dragon lunged at him without warning and the Dark Elf was forced to run for his life.
"Duraal, fahliil! Zu'u fen lost hin klov!" One wouldn't think it given his size, but the dragon was fast and dug its wing talons into the ground as to give chase. The Dark Elf could consider himself fortunate that he was swift and nimble on his feet. He dove under and past the roots of fallen tree, climbing on top of the debris that had fallen directly from the top of the tower. "This game of yours ends now, joorre!"
Ganir had no time to be baffled by the dragon's ability for the common speech as the dragon swung his tail overhead to hit him from the side but struck the tower instead when the Dark Elf ducked. Ganir covered his head as the stone was sent flying everywhere and he hoped none of it would hit him. He could hear Cirilonde shriek in the distance but Irileth and her men held the High Elf back.
When he looked up, a shudder ran down his spine in spite of the dragon's hot breath brushing past his ears. The Dark Elf and dragon's faces were mere inches apart and any sudden moves would no doubt mean his end…So why was the dragon not doing anything? His whole body tensed when the tower creaked menacingly. It was about to collapse!
A deep, odd rumble, much like a chuckle, emitted from the dragon's throat as it caught the Dark Elf's quizzical expression. "I'm not proud I need to stoop to your…guttural language, but you've caused me enough faaz that I insist you know my name before I crush your bones," the dragon growled and spread its wings in a mocking bow. "But it has been a long time since I, Mirmulnir, had the pleasure of the hunt."
"But you've not caught me yet, have you?" Ganir bluffed against his better judgement, but he had to try.
Mirmulnir's nostrils flared up in anger, "YOL!" and the dragon lunged forward with its jaws wide open to burn the Dark Elf to a crisp before swallowing him whole. But Ganir scrambled and made a nasty fall when he rolled off the edge of the little platform the debris had formed. Because he was missing an eye and the flames were so bright, Mirmulnir did not see his 'prey' was no longer there and it was too late for him to turn or back away so he rammed the tower with the full force of his weight.
The last thing that Mirmulnir saw, was the tower's massive boulders that came crashing down on him and a deafening silence fell over the field until Cirilonde cried out for Ganir. He'd thought himself dead at first as well until he heard her voice and he swept the dirt, dust and rubble off of him. He had to admit it to himself that he hadn't exactly expected to emerge from this unscathed, but luckily for him when he made his unfortunate fall, he found a crevice he could huddle into to find shelter from the flame and debris.
Sore and shaking in his boots he emerged from the rubble, but found that he was unharmed otherwise. "Ganir!"
Cirilonde had broken away from Irileth and the guardsmen. Though she wanted nothing more than go to him, she was too terrified of getting any closer as the dragon lay unmoving under the debris. Both the elves stared at it, expecting it to break free any second. "Is…Is it dead?" she finally dared ask.
Ganir stared at the dragon as he expected this dragon, Mirmulnir, to move any second, but…had he really…? Out of all the men in total, of which most had perished…had he been the one too?
Cirilonde rushed over and flung her arms around his neck, refusing to let go before she finally pulled back. "You idiot! Just what were you thinking?! But you did it and-! Are you all right?"
He was grateful for her concern, but he pulled her behind him and backed away fast when the dragon began to…smoulder?
"By the Eight!" Irileth and Whiterun's men had dared to inch closer as well, but immediately froze to a halt when they all saw what was happening. Smoke began to emit from the dragon's scales which began to glow as though it was searing, white-hot steel.
"Ciri, get down!" Ganir shoved Cirilonde aside but within that fraction of a second where time seemed to slow. Deep down he'd already known that Cirilonde had been in no danger, but still felt the instinctive need to push her to safety. Mirmulnir's body initially seemed to burst into flames but instead, formed a whirling cyclone of energy that charged straight at the Dark Elf. It was so fast that even if he'd tried, he couldn't dodge or outrun it but when it hit him there was no pain and this 'energy' became a part of him.
Cirilonde stood frozen with her green eyes wide in disbelief. Just how…and what? She reached her hand out to the Dark Elf whereas Irileth and the men stared dumbfounded at Ganir who looked just as dumbfounded as he attempted to process what had just happened.
"Dragonborn…" One of the guards gasped. "You are Dragonborn!"
"What are you flapping your gums on about, fool?" Irileth still cradled her broken arm and though she damn well knew what she'd just seen, she didn't want to believe it because…how could anyone?! This outlander, this outsider had just done… what exactly to this dragon? And now they were calling him 'Dragonborn'? It's the pain…It's just the pain…She tried to reason.
The guard made to explain but was interrupted by a voice thundering through the skies overhead. It was so powerful it caused a ripple to flow through the sky, distorting the clouds. "DOOOV-AH-KIIIN!"
"Did you hear that? Did you hear that?!" Whiterun's men exclaimed to one another in ecstatic disbelief.
"Those were definitely the Greybeards!" One of the men exclaimed. "They're summoning you to High Hrothgar."
"I'm not being summoned anywhere," Ganir grabbed Cirilonde by the arm with the intention to leave.
"Ganir, what are you-?!"
"Just where do you think you're going?" Irileth growled. "We're not done. Explain yourself, stranger. The Jarl-,"
"I did my job so I'm not about to explain anything." Cirilonde didn't want to stay either as whatever this meant, it didn't seem to be good.
"Halt!"
Ganir leapt on the back of his horse with ease and galloped off at full speed, causing Cirilonde to panic, but after pulling herself free from a guard's grasp, she too dug the heels of her boots in her horse's flanks and chased after the Dark Elf.
Just what in the-?! The High Elf's mind reeled to comprehend what any of this meant and though her rationality would often kick in first, this had been so mind-blowing, it even got the better of her wits. All she wanted was to get out of here and catch up with Ganir. Her hair whipped her in the face and the muscles in her legs and sides stung and burned. It took her great effort to stay in the saddle and it took considerable effort before she finally caught up with the Dark Elf.
"Just wait!" she exclaimed, getting angry when he wouldn't slow down. "Auri-El, Ganir, they're not chasing us!"
But it wasn't until a little bit further that he finally slowed down, out of breath and both him and his horse bathed in sweat. The surrounding landscape had changed from the rolling, grassy hills to the snow-covered, dirt-road sided by towering pine-trees. He wanted to rationalize why he'd run so suddenly but not only had he been terrified, he thought he'd gone mad and in this 'daze', he'd left Cirilonde behind. He felt awful and didn't dare look at her.
"Ganir…Just…" Cirilonde's horse didn't protest when she leaned on its neck for support to catch her breath. She held on to her aching sides. "Just what was all that about? What happened? Are you all right?"
Only when she put her hand on his arm, did he look up. "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out myself as well..."
"Don't you ever run off on me like that again. We've been through so much already. You're my friend!" She looked him straight in the eyes. "Right?"
"Of course you are. I was just…scared, I guess?" He was embarrassed at first when Cirilonde laughed, but he then laughed as well. Not that either of them could do so for long as they were out of breath and their bodies ached. He ran a hand through his dishevelled, dark hair. "But how exactly do you expect me to …make sense of that?! Just what the hell happened?!"
"If I knew, I would…" she gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "Trust me, I most likely would've panicked as well. I mean, that was not the same dragon as from Helgen and I don't like it one bit how we seem to be in the middle of it all."
"Not to forget about that voice…" Ganir mused. "And what was it the Nord called me? Dragonborn? I mean, this has just got to be coincidence, right? I mean, come on, no one's ever seen a dragon die before and he clearly had it in for me."
"I don't know…" Cirilonde pondered. "I guess we'll have to utilize the College's resources…if that's what you still want.'
Ganir couldn't help but smile because as distressing as the past few days alone had been, he found comfort in Cirilonde's company. She was gentle, considerate and quite resilient for an elven woman who seemingly possessed no real combat prowess. And here she was with him in Skyrim. "I don't think there's a better place than the College of Winterhold to find answers …" he then cast a quick glance over his shoulders. "Not to mention, to lay low for a while."
"I agree," Cirilonde nodded. "And trust me, we'll find something in the College's Arcaneum. I don't even doubt it for a second. And more importantly, I doubt anyone will be looking for us in such a remote place."
"Isn't it one of the biggest cities of Skyrim?" Ganir raised a brow.
"Not anymore." Cirilonde shook her head and told him about the books she'd read while still at home. One of them told how the majority of Winterhold had been 'swallowed' by the Sea of Ghosts due to some yet, unexplained cause whereas others pinpointed a 'great, terrible storm' to be the culprit. Either way, this event that took place some two centuries ago was referred to as 'The Great Collapse' and had left Winterhold as but a shell of its former self.
Eager for distraction, aching and tired, Ganir asked all the questions he could think of for Cirilonde to answer. Not that she minded, it helped her pay less heed to the increasing cold as they headed further up North East of the country and it even began to snow once they got near Windhelm. It grew increasingly difficult to guide the horses through the thick layer of snow and they had to take shelter for a few hours when the wind disoriented them too much for them to be able to navigate the right way properly.
Tired and aching, Cirilonde knew they couldn't afford to stop for sleep. Not only did she still fear they were still wanted or followed, her mind kept her awake.
But finally at long last, after a long night and half a morning of riding, they saw what remained of Winterhold's enormous walls. It was a sight that even saddened Ganir as he could clearly tell this had once been a great, bustling city. Now, not even half of it stood standing. It literally looked as though the sea had grown a maw with teeth and took a bite out of the city. All of it was covered in snow, he could see the ruins of old buildings Winterhold's villagers either hadn't the heart or resources to recover or rebuild…or it was simply too dangerous.
But all of this former grandeur fell in the shadow of a most impressive sight that even took Ganir's breath away. The College of Winterhold was built on top of a precarious rock formation, surrounded by the sea and the beach far below. Blue beams of light shot upwards to the sky from magical fonts and braziers. That, combined with the dark clouds forming in the background and how the windows shimmered, the College looked ominous, intimidating but incredible.
The odd, elven pair rode their horses down the main road of the village, trying to ignore the hard glares of the local guardsmen as they approached the stone arch-way and bridge that led to the College. Here, they dismounted to greet the blonde, Altmer female that stood waiting in the archway to the bridge that led to the College. The two statues that were part of the archway sternly peered down at the two of them.
The High Elf woman was clad in most unusual attire for what Cirilonde associated with mages. She was used to simple or elaborate robes like she herself would wear. But this woman was clad in thick, wool and fur pants. Over it, she wore a long, red and embroidered tunic with a yellow sash. Over that, she wore a dark-brown overcoat and a pair of thick, fur-lined boots. . "Ah, the last arrival of the new lot of students," she said to Cirilonde.
Though she was postured and graceful, she seemed far more friendly than most Altmer women Cirilonde knew back in Alinor. They always had a certain patronizing demeanour and tone to their voice.
"I am Faralda," the woman and Cirilonde shook hands. "I'm your instructor for the school of Destruction. You must be Cirilonde Valanocke." Faralda gave Cirilonde an encouraging smile before she then turned her attention to Ganir, inspecting him from head to toe. She certainly must be wondering what an armour-clad, menacing Dark Elf such as himself would be doing all the way out here. "We weren't expecting you, however, Sir…?"
"Ganir Mathendis." Ganir replied and shook hands with her. "I'm aware my arrival was not announced, sera, but if it's not too late or an issue, I would like to enrol with your College."
Faralda bit on the inside of her cheek as she mulled this over. Granted, Skyrim wasn't a place to travel across lightly. If the wildlife didn't prove an issue, the civil war had certainly provided bandits the chance to roam freely and cause trouble. But there was something about this Dark Elf…especially since he travelled with an Altmer noble-woman…She shook her head, "It's certainly unconventional for us to accept last-minute registrations, but it is not my choice to make. You will have to convince our Master Wizard, Mirabelle Ervine to see if she's willing to make an exception."
Cirilonde glanced up at Ganir. That certainly didn't sound promising or encouraging, but he gave her an assuring wink and his lips curled into that devilish smirk once again once Faralda had turned around to gesture at the bridge. "I'll take you across, but mind your step. The last storm has caused quite some damage and it's very slippery."
She hadn't been joking or exaggerating. Though the bridge wasn't about to collapse any time soon, the elements had torn away at the bridge, leaving large gaps here and there where wooden boards had been placed over as a temporary replacement. Cirilonde felt her stomach churn when she accidentally peered down and saw that if one were to fall, they would certainly meet a cruel demise on the jagged rocks on the beach far below. The harsh wind made the stone bridge sway. Cirilonde was so glad when they had finally made their way across and the horses seemed to share the sentiment.
They stood in front of the steel, barred gate with the arcane eye embedded into the ironwork that led to the College's rotund courtyard. It was overlooked by the statue of a mage she knew to be Shalidor; the College's founder. A blue light emanated from a large font in the centre of the courtyard, in front of the statue, that would illuminate the grounds at night.
Along the walls was a walkway supported by pillars with doorways leading to what they later would learn were the junior dorms (the Hall of Attainment) and the senior dorms (Hall of Countenance) and a variety of laboratories and classrooms. The entrance to the College, the Hall of Elements, was behind large doors behind the statue.
But the gate didn't open, much to Faralda's amusement and she held out her hand to Cirilonde. "May I have your ring, please?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, of course." Cirilonde reached into her pouch and produced a simple, silver ring which she then handed to Faralda.
"It may seem extensive, but given the strenuous relations between the locals of Winterhold and the general dislike Nords have for magic, we've taken some precautions to ensure no one can just walk in here," Faralda explained after muttering an incantation. Both the ring and gate briefly lit up in and after handing the ring back to Cirilonde, the gates finally opened. But both Ganir and Cirilonde wondered why they would take such precautions. "You will be receiving such a ring as well, should you manage to convince Mirabelle," Faralda said to Ganir as she led them onto the College grounds. "Can you take their horses please, Enthir?" A wood elf stood talking to someone nearby and nodded, leading Cirilonde and Ganir's horses away to the stables. "As I'm sure you're-,"
"I believe I made myself rather clear, Ancano." The conversation was taking place behind the statue and Cirilonde and Ganir exchanged glances when Faralda motioned for them to stay put a moment.
Ancano…Cirilonde swallowed. A High Elven name…
"Yes, of course." Smooth as Ancano's voice was, it now sounded disdainful and haughty towards whoever he was speaking to. She could imagine him sneering as he spoke. "I'm simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision."
"You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but I'm afraid the Thalmor receive no such treatment here. You would do well to remember that you are a guest at the College at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage." This woman was no doubt glaring daggers at this 'Ancano' as they stood face to face behind that statue. Cirilonde swallowed because in her experience, this couldn't end well. "I hope you appreciate the opportunity."
"But of course, Mirabelle." The three eaves-dropping elves collectively seemed a bit relieved when nothing bad happened and on Faralda's signal, they approached. But when they rounded around the statue, Cirilonde froze when her worst fears were confirmed and she gripped Ganir by the wrist.
Ancano was a Thalmor agent.
He was clad in the typical, smooth black and leather robes with golden embroidery. Like most High Elven men, he was taller and towered over Mirabelle; an elderly, short Breton woman. His shoulder-length white hair was brushed back and his long chin, cheekbones and hooked nose were rather prominent features of his face. He ceased to scowl at the woman and his dark, golden eyes narrowed at Faralda and the two elves he'd never seen here before. "The Arch-Mage has my thanks," he added sarcastically.
"Now, if you don't mind, Ancano, I have some matters to attend too." Mirabelle and he glared at one another.
Ancano shot another glance at the new arrivals before he turned and pulled the hood of his robe back over his head and walked off, entering one of the quarters out of their sight.
"What was his problem this time?" Faralda asked once she was certain Ancano was out of earshot but Mirabelle shot her a sharp look. The High Elf took the hint and cleared her throat, "Lady Valanocke has just arrived, the last of the new apprentices. And this is Ganir Mathendis, who would like to join as well."
Cirilonde was all too aware of Ganir's eyes on her. Nobility? Ganir had had his suspicions, but the way she treated him and after what they'd been through, he was sure she would explain in due time. After all, he too had his secrets.
It was clear that Mirabelle shared Faralda's apprehension as she looked at Ganir whose appearance was anything but 'scholarly'. It was subtle, but when Mirabelle's eyes met Ganir's, the Breton felt unable to tear her gaze away from his and a most pleasant warmth filled her. (*2). She shook her head and shot the Dark Elf a sharp look, crossing her arms over her chest. "And by what proficiency ought we permit for you to enroll?"
Ganir bared his teeth in what seemed a charming grin, but he was also a bit unnerved now. This normally always works…
Mirabelle's eyes shot to Cirilonde, who looked rather confused as to what had just happened. The Breton wondered what a young woman such as her would want to do with an intimidating man such as this Dark Elf. "Illusion and Alchemy," Ganir replied as though nothing had happened.
"Very well then. What are the results if I combine distilled Juniper Berries with boiled Namira's rot and ground, Nordic Barnacles?"
"I am more familiar with the alchemical components and applications of ingredients from Cyrodiil and Morrowind," Ganir said. "You will have to forgive me, but of course all the same, it would explain why I would be here."
This certainly piqued everyone's interest. When Red Mountain erupted, Morrowind's province of Vvardenfell was practically swept off the charts and with the Argonians (the lizard-folk from Black Marsh) retaliating after years of enslavement by the Dark Elves, a lot of the Dunmer had perished or fled. A lot of magical knowledge on their province's flora and fauna was lost. Mirabelle, however, wasn't too convinced just yet by this bold claim. "If you say so. What could I do with Green Lichen and Willow Anther?" she asked.
"A common potion to cure most diseases." Ganir replied with a smug and satisfied expression. Too simple.
But Mirabelle chalked it up to sheer, dumb luck and pressed on. "And what of crushed emeralds with raisin?"
"If you prepare it right, the emerald could dissolve into a Trama Root tea. It enhances the healing process, dissolves the emerald dust better and the raisin adds an…interesting, bitter taste, to say the least."
Mirabelle's face lit up and she extended her hand to Ganir. "Most impressive, Ganir Mathendis. I am Master Wizard Mirabelle Ervine. Welcome to the College of Winterhold, the both of you."
To achieve the rank of Master Wizard, one certainly had to possess and display prowess and knowledge of the magical arts. And from what Cirilonde could guess, Mirabelle had to be at least seventy years old, but as impressive as this feat was her appearance was less so. Mirabelle's attire was much like Faralda's except hers were coloured blue and silver with a black sash. Mirabelle had no doubt once been a beautiful woman. Her round face now wrinkled and her greying, brown hair bound back into a bun. But her dark-brown eyes held a fire.
"If you follow me, I can show you around before I take you to your dorms." Mirabelle led them to the Hall of Elements, which was illuminated by the same, big font in the centre of the Hall of Elements. A swirling stairway led to a platform above and countless torches along the walls crackled with a blue flame. Their footsteps echoed through the room, which was currently occupied by senior mages who practiced their conjuration and other spells which explained the odd flashes of light they had seen earlier from the outside.
"Most of our seminars are hosted here in the Hall of Elements, but is also a more spacious area for our students to practice their spells," Mirabelle explained. Cirilonde's eyes went wide as she watched a young man conjure a familiar while two others practiced their destruction spells.
"Why don't you conduct your practices inside?" Cirilonde asked. "Does it have to do with the locals?"
Mirabelle nodded. "And I highly recommend that were you to practice your skills, you either conduct them here or in the laboratories and classrooms we have available, lest we upset the locals. Let's head to the Forum, shall we?" The Forum was a large room where the walls were decorated with paintings and tapestries. Students were sat at tables, eating, reading books and talking to one another so only a few noted the arrival of the Master Wizard and the two, new apprentices. And so they made their way around the College where Mirabelle explained what purpose every room served and where they were or weren't permitted and what was or wasn't allowed to do in what rooms.
In complete contrast to Cirilonde, Ganir looked exceptionally bored after seeing some of the facilities where as Cirilonde couldn't contain her excitement when they made their way to the Arcaneum.
This library filled with magical knowledge throughout the ages dizzied Cirilonde as she saw nothing but bookshelves and cases filled to the brim with tomes, encyclopaedia and other (history) books. Another spiral staircase was at the centre of the room, coiling around the font of magical light that faded into the distance, lighting most of the Arcaneum.
What surprised her even more, was that the Arcaneum wasn't tended too by some dusty-looking beardy old fellow, but a grumpy-looking, old Orc named Urag gro-Shub. What little remained of his white hair was bound back into a ponytail and he watched everyone like a hawk.
"Just to make sure that this is clear," Urag said to Cirilonde after she politely tried to introduce herself. "This is my own little plain of Oblivion. If I see you make a mess of things and not treat these books with the respect they deserve, I will call upon a pair of angry atronachs to help remind you…"
Ganir could barely stifle his laughter as Cirilonde visibly paled and then nervously assured him that she would treat his books well.
"Yes, so that was Urag…" Mirabelle cleared her throat as they left the Arcaneum and were headed back outside to the Courtyard again. "He takes his work very…seriously. Now, over there, you can see the door to the Hall of Countenance which is off-limits to the both of you until you have been promoted to the rank of Scholar. Until then, you will be staying here in the Hall of Attainment." Both these dorms were in the smaller towers of the College. The rooms were bare and only had a desk, washing basin, desk and wardrobe, all of it lit again by the same, blue magical light emanating from the font in the centre.
Mirabelle turned to Ganir, startling him as she'd made such a sudden turn and had said very little to him throughout the course of the tour. "I will make sure that you will be assigned some proper attire like your friend here. The furnishings are College property but you are, of course, free to make yourself at home and study here. Should you have any questions, I'm sure that if I am not available to you, your fellow students will be happy to help you out. Will you manage?"
Cirilonde gave Ganir a subtle kick when the Breton turned to them again and she nearly caught sight of the Dark Elf mockingly mimicking her. "We will be fine, Master Wizard. I thank you for your time," Cirilonde said with a courteous smile. "I would hate to take up more of it."
"Yes, thank you." Ganir grumbled as he rubbed his sore shin.
Mirabelle frowned, wondering what was wrong with the Dark Elf but shrugged it off. She smiled back at the High Elf. "Very well. I will see you at dinner. Take your time to get comfortable and acquainted with your fellow apprentices. The schedules for all classes will be handed out t dinner."
"What was that for?!" Ganir exclaimed with a hiss once the Master Wizard had left the Hall of Attainment. She hadn't really hurt him because his boots were made out of thick leather but he hadn't expected it either. "Was that really necessary? That woman just kept droning on and on and on!"
"Unless you want to break a world record for getting expelled." Cirilonde tried to look and sound stern but her lips curled into a smile she couldn't suppress. It had been funny.
"If they knew why and how we really got here…" Ganir ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. He began toying with one of his earrings again. It was only as if then he took note of their appearance, or more specifically, Cirilonde's. "You should get changed. You look like you lost arm-wrestling a mudcrab."
Cirilonde shot him a look and couldn't help herself, "I don't recall mudcrabs being able to fly or breathe fire."
"Shh!" Ganir hissed.
"Hey, you must be the last of the new lot." Cirilonde and Ganir's eyes both shot to the Dunmer female who had peeked out of her room. She was pretty, with thick, dark-brown hair and big, red eyes that looked as friendly as her smile. "I'm Brelyna Maryon. Yes. House Telvanni."
Her smile grew wider and she leaned particularly close to Ganir as she shook hands with him. For the first time since they'd met, he looked uncomfortable and stepped back and shot Cirilonde a glare. "He's a tad moody because he had a long trip." The Dark Elf's indignant expression was priceless as both the women giggled. "This is Ganir. I'm Cirilonde."
"It's so lovely to meet the both of you. You must've come a long way, but all the better to be far away from the family." Brelyna said. "This place is amazing and there's so much time to yourself and all these new people to meet…"
"Which I will be doing later, if you don't mind," Ganir said. Cirilonde looked at him, worried. From the moment they'd met, the Dark Elf had looked famished and exhausted but now it really showed. Now that they were as safe as they could be he seemed prepared to give into his exhaustion at long last.
"It's fine. Get some rest," she said to him and without another word, he turned and retreated into his room. She gave Brelyna an apologetic smile. "It really was a rough trip. Don't take it personal."
Brelyna waved her hand in dismissal with a grin. "I know my sort's men. A nap and some sujamma will fix him right up. Have you been to the Forum yet? Most of the others are there now, so why don't you come along so I can introduce you? It's almost dinner time anyway."
Cirilonde hesitated and glanced at Ganir's room. "Yes, of course, but let me change first. First impressions and all."
While Brelyna waited outside her room, Cirilonde took her time to catch her breath and as much as she wanted to think about everything that had happened and maybe even go to bed, she also wanted to make a good, first impression. She held Gerdur's dress out in front of her and then looked at her robes. Her clothes were a right mess but thankfully the blood stains didn't stand out as much as the caked mud did … or the scorched ends of her sleeves.
And they actually let us on the College grounds?! After washing up and brushing her hair, she put on the robes that had been laid out on her bed. She then joined Brelyna who led her to the Forum where everyone had gathered for dinner.
Few heads turned like earlier as many were still too engrossed with their meals, studies and conversation but upon seeing Brelyna, a few people clad in the same robes like Cirilonde and Brelyna waved.
"Hey everyone. I'd like all of you to meet Cirilonde," Brelyna said once they'd made their way over to the table. A few gave a wave and said their names before returning to their meals and conversations. Cirilonde took the seat Brelyna had pulled out for her before she took a seat herself.
"My name is Onmund," the young, Nord man shook hands with her. He had blond hair, blue eyes and a kind, handsome face.
"J'Zargo." The Khajiit's teeth showed when he grinned. He immediately reminded Cirilonde of Ri'Saad. Most of J'Zargo's face went hidden under his hood, but she could tell his fur was brown and black and his eyes sparkled with both intelligence and mischief. "It is good to meet you."
"So, this is it?" Onmund asked. "We're the only real newcomers?" Onmund looked both surprised and confused. "Because I've been asking around and, well, most people have either been here for a year or are only dropping by every once a while if they must."
"Well, aside from Faralda telling us, you should know that Nords aren't fond of magic." The Dark Elf rolled her eyes. "Because it's so much more practical and civilized to crush someone's skull with a big, heavy and clumsy hammer or axe."
"True, but still…"
"But there's five of us in total that are new," Brelyna said as if it was of any comfort. "It's just that the fifth one is currently in his dorm; Ganir, a Dark Elf like me."
"He'll probably join us later," Cirilonde assured them, hoping they wouldn't think it was weird. "We had a pretty rough and long trip."
"Well, more food for us, then, I suppose." Onmund shrugged and the four of them walked over to the large, long table where a buffet was laid out for them so they could scoop up whatever and how much ever they wanted to eat. Though it wasn't as elaborate as what she was familiar with back home or at the Arcane University, it wasn't too strange as Winterhold's College was so remote and the climate didn't really allow for any of the luxurious food she was used too. In spite of that, however, the varieties of stews, porridges and soups looked and smelled most delicious and so she made do with what seemed most appealing to her.
They all sat down together to eat their meals and Cirilonde could almost forget about the hectic, past few days as she talked with Onmund, J'Zargo and Brelyna. Onmund was a simple farmer's son and though his family didn't really like any of it, he pushed through and finally enrolled at the College of Winterhold as he was the first and only in his family to show signs of an aptitude for magic.
In Morrowind, there were a variety of Great Houses prominent families associated themselves with and Brelyna's family was one of them. Though she could've stayed at home and learned from the greatest masters, she had managed to convince her parents to travel to the College of Winterhold, for which she was most thankful. "The only downside is that while they won't be nagging my ears until they're round about my progress every day, they will be writing. But at least I get a choice when to respond, right?"
And finally, there was J'Zargo, who typically avoided discussing most of his background. "Skyrim was not J'Zargo's first choice, but Winterhold is removed from politics, dedicated to study. This is the place for J'Zargo to become great and he will have much to prove as Khajiit are not known as mages."
But they are as thieves…Cirilonde couldn't help herself and kept her hand on her pouch. But she found that she was enjoying herself as the atmosphere was most pleasant and the people seemed nice. Once she'd eaten her fill, however, she began to ache for a bed to sleep in. "It was all very nice to meet you, but I'll have to excuse myself," she said as she got up. "I've really had a long trip so I'll be retreating for the night."
Though she wasn't very certain of where to go, she finally managed to find her way to the Hall of Attainment again and knocked on the door to Ganir's room, which was next to her own.
"Ganir?" she listened closely at the door. "Do you have a moment?"
She had to suppress a laugh as the Dark Elf's hair was a mess. "Sorry about that. Fell asleep." He muttered his apologies. He did look a lot better than he did earlier. "What is it?"
"Not much…" She furrowed her brow at the stains on his tunic but decided not to comment. Now wasn't the time."Did someone come and bring you your robes?"
"Oh yes, someone came knocking earlier." Ganir said and as he let her in, he kicked a flask under his bed and then held up the robes. "Is everything okay, or?"
"I'm fine…I think," she said, not entirely sure of herself. "Just very tired, that's all. But, what do you think of this place? Will we be safe?"
"The people seem all right." Ganir mused. "But as little as I've seen of this place, I've seen even less people."
"I know. Apparently Winterhold hasn't the best reputation and the Civil War has either kept people away or from coming. You, me, Onmund, Brelyna and J'Zargo are the only new people." Cirilonde explained.
"A Khajiit mage?" Ganir snorted. "Well…mind your belongings then. N'chow s'wits. But how about you. Are you feeling well? Safe?"
"I really don't know." Cirilonde admitted. "I absolutely did not expect a Thalmor agent all the way up here. But I've not seen him since we arrived."
"Well, if it's any reassurance, keep in mind what Mirabelle said to him." Ganir tried to reassure her, even if he wasn't exactly convinced himself. "Be on the lookout just in case, but if he tries anything-,"
The Dark Elf was initially taken aback but then returned Cirilonde's embrace with a smile. "Thank you for everything, Ganir. I wouldn't have made it here without you."
Though she couldn't see, his gaze softened. "You're welcome. You should get some rest."
"I will," Cirilonde smiled and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But I just wanted to check in on you quick. So, good night, I guess." And just like that, she turned and went to her room where it wasn't long before she fell into a deep sleep.
Notes:
Seriously, rewriting this chapter (18-04-2016) was NO small feat, or easy, for that matter. In the original, Ganir literally killed Mirmulnir, but instead, I changed a lot of things around not only to make things more credible, but also improve the dialogue and flow of the story and that way, better present the character and their personalities.
I really hope I pulled it off right, so should you be the one to re-read this, or read this the first time, please let me know what you think!
Prem, joor. Dinok bo fah hi!: Patience, mortal. Death comes for you!
Hi fen wahl flogah kipraan, fahliil! : You will make a fine meal, elves!
Duraal fahliil. Zu'u fen lost hin klov!: Cursed Elf, I will have your head!
(*1): Though I do not know if this applies to Elder Scrolls lore, elves are known to have a more keen sense of sight and hearing. But if it is not 'registered' in some way, perhaps it explains Cirilonde's confusion as to why she's the only one seeing it, given that Whiterun's occupation mainly consists of Nords and Bretons (humanoid, non-elven races), save for Irileth.
(*2) Vampire charm. Sucks for Ganir that Mirabelle's a very strong-minded woman.
And on a small side not of sorts, wouldn't you be pissed if you knew someone was trying to 'charm' you with a spell?
