The following midday, Mirabelle Ervine stood outside on the college grounds and made a public announcement to the student and faculty in tandem. "Let it be known to all students and faculty that the Archmage has henceforth written this into the rules: he has declared it forbidden to carry experimental objects outside of the College grounds, especially if said objects hold powerful enchantments or are affiliated in any way with the Daedra. Any who are in possession of such objects will be expressly surveilled by the College. Thank you."
Nirya crossed her arms and walked away, as did Faralda, Phinis, Inigo, J'zargo, and Cura, who had just returned from her night away. Ancano stood off by the side of the courtyard statue and sneered rudely as the students and faculty passed him by.
Mirabelle flagged down Cura, running past most of the small crowd to reach her. "Cura, I wish to speak to you. In my office, as soon as possible."
Cura felt a nervous twitch in her shoulders. "Yes, Master Wizard."
Exasperated, Cura followed Mirabelle into the building proper and up the stairs to her office on the top floor, and formally took a seat across from her on her desk.
Without hesitation, Mirabelle began. "I've learned of your little excursions, Cura. Just what are you playing at?" Mirabelle addressed her straight, with no room for excuses. "Visiting the Thalmor Embassy, going with your allies to retrieve Azura's Star from Malyn... it is all very strange. Do indulge me."
"For the first: Ancano was being incredibly invasive to everyone, so I thought I'd cut the fish off from the river. I complained to the Thalmor Ambassador, Elenwen." Cura explained.
The older Breton's face sunk. "That is expressly my job." Mirabelle was unimpressed by this discrete initiative and more than a little suspicious. "Ever since you've come here things have been growing increasingly more and more unstable. I must ask, Dragonborn, why have you come to our college?"
"I've come to hone my magical skills." Cura explained. "I'm sure you've heard about the Dragons returning, right?"
"All of Skyrim knows." Mirabelle responded flatly.
Cura waved it forward. "Exactly. I've been tasked with defeating Alduin, the World-Eater."
Mirabelle leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.
It took Cura a moment to realize that she was unconvinced. "You... don't believe me."
"I believe you're Dragonborn, certainly." Mirabelle articulated clearly. "But I am not certain of where your loyalty lies."
Visible insult washed Cura's face. "What?!"
"The matter of Azura's Star. And her Priestess who came to us last night." Mirabelle was growing restless. "Malyn Varen and Nelacar were put long behind us. Why did you drudge that up?"
"I didn't; Lucien and Inigo did. I was trying to save my friends' lives!" Cura defended herself vehemently. "If I hadn't intervened they might have been killed, or even worse! Please, Mirabelle, you have to see that!"
Why was it so difficult to understand that Cura's loyalties lied with the land and its people?
"I do see that. And why had they done it to begin with?" clearly, Mirabelle was insinuating that Cura may have had involvement in asking them.
"I don't know what possessed them to do it, but they did." Cura stated.
Mirabelle seemed to note something down in her book, but Cura could not exactly make out what.
"Very well." Mirabelle put down her quill at last. "You may continue to study at the college, but I don't ever want to see you in this office again. Stay out of trouble."
The last thing she needed was to be expelled right now. She was learning so much already! Even with all the little hiccups, Cura was really making progress in the other schools of magic. She had to stay, to learn, to grow. A sinking feeling made waves through the half-Elf and Cura sighed and massaged her forehead as she lowered her head and looked downwards shamefully. "Trouble finds me, Master Wizard. It really does. I'm sorry..."
Mirabelle noticed this shift in the Dragonborn's demeanour and began to feel bad for her. It was sure that she had gone through very much in her young life, and perhaps there was merit to her words after all. Since Cura had arrived, it had seemed as though the other students were harassing her and Ancano was going out of his way to cause her grief, as well. If trouble were an ocean, Cura was tossed into the depths of it.
The white streak in her hair and her innumerable scars seemed evidence enough. In a way, Mirabelle wondered what the life of a Dragonborn was like. Even moreso the life of a Dragonborn who was also a Vigilant of Stendarr.
Perhaps Cura really was innocent, and wasn't attempting to sabotage the College and aid the Thalmor under the table. Perhaps she was misjudging her intentions. The more Mirabelle thought of it, the dumber the accusation sounded.
The older Breton's harsh expression subsided and she took on a kinder approach. "I would recommend that you spend more time focusing on your studies and less with interacting with other students, to limit the potential for arguments. Keep a safer schedule. Ignore calls from the outside until your confidence in your magic has bettered. Tell your friends not to pursue matters pertaining to the College's past and to remain on campus." She leaned forward and placed her hand on Cura's shoulder. "And get something to eat. You're a mess."
Cura closed her eyes and slowly stood up. "I'll... try to do as you advised."
"If anybody is troubling you, report them to me." Mirabelle told her. "Mine is not a glamorous position, but I do keep things running smoothly."
"I thought I was barred from this office?" Cura remarked ironically.
"You know what I meant." Mirabelle readjusted her seat. "Don't find yourself reported here again."
She was reported? By who?
As soon as Cura reached the end of the hall, she found her answer.
Ancano stood by the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Not expelled yet? I'm quite surprised at how lenient that... little mongrel duck... is towards her students. Or perhaps it's a Breton thing. Who am I to question it?"
Cura snarled in response. "I should have known."
"You thought that by reporting me to my superiors that I would stop hounding you, didn't you, Dragonborn?" Ancano pushed her back a little.
Cura tilted her head. "How did you know..."
"The Master Wizard compared the writing in your journal to my own. She said you had a letter that you used for comparison yourself." Ancano began. "You disappeared from the campus 36 hours ago. Then, I received word early this morning from Lady Elenwen, the Ambassador herself, to be less intrusive in the college. I just get the feeling; you can call me crazy if you must; that you may have some connections within my organization. Just what are you to Madame Ambassador, anyway?"
Cura was not going to answer that question. "Is this your version of being "less intrusive?""
"Nothing has changed. If anything, I will be keeping even more of a watchful eye on you." Ancano jabbed a jagged finger her way. "You can be certain of it."
"Well, you'd best get your nail filer or polish, or whatever it is you like to do to pass the time, because it's going to be very dull." Cura informed him with equal parts snobbishness.
Ancano glared at her hatefully. "Your connection to Madame Ambassador is the only thing keeping you alive right now. And make no mistake, I will discover what it is, one way or another."
"Well, if you do you might rethink your life choices. I'll tell you that much." Cura spoke snidely as she weaved around him and headed out the door.
Ancano watched the half-elf disappear with hatred in his eyes.
Inigo was having an absolute blast shooting targets on the rooftop; Flame Atronachs summoned by Serana to serve the purpose for himself and for Onmund, J'zargo and Brelyna. The blue Khajiit plucked ethereal arrow after ethereal arrow and plugged each one into his target with grace.
"Class dismissed." Inigo flaunted to his classmates as he twirled another arrow in his right hand.
"Not bad, but J'zargo has better fervor." the gray Khajiit dismissed Inigo's prowess to shield his ego.
"J'zargo has a bigger ego, too." Inigo laughed as he sheathed his Bound Bow. "A shame it does not live up to the hype."
"It will once J'zargo becomes the greatest wizard in Skyrim." the gray cat crossed his arms before leaving them behind.
Inigo was unamused. "I guess it will take an Illusion spell to make this one humble."
Onmund found the humour in it. "Well, that's just who J'zargo is. He's been like that since day one, and he's gonna be like that until day... I don't know. The day he takes his last breath, I suppose."
Inigo clicked his tongue. "Well, I can understand taking pride in one's work - I am most pleased with my skill as a marksman."
"You are quite good at it." Serana added in, stroking his own ego. "Have you ever thought of learning how to enchant your arrows with Fire, Ice and Lightning? Sergius might show you a thing or two if you catch him in the right mood."
Inigo nodded. "I haven't learned myself, but I have asked him to enchant them for me! He had no choice after I defeated him in a Drinking Competition a few nights back."
"Wait, you were drunk on the second night here?" Onmund couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Inigo nodded jovially. "Oh, yes. It was how I kept myself motivated!"
Serana scoffed with amusement. "It's never dull with you around, kitty cat."
Inigo smiled and took a stage bow. "Always a pleasure to brighten your gloomy days."
Cura finished tearing out the first few pages of her journal and setting them ablaze. Then she lay in her bed that night and looked up at the ceiling when Serana knocked on her door. The half-Elf stood up and approached in her pajamas. She pulled open the door to see her vampire friend and greeted her cordially.
"Can I come in for a sec?" Serana asked politely. "There's something important we need to talk about."
"Of course! Come in, come in." Cura ushered her towards the chair adjacent to her bed next to her bookcase.
Serana took a seat and Cura sat on her mattress after closing the door. "What's wrong, Serana?"
Serana twiddled her thumbs before finding her words. "I was offered a job here at the college as a Student-Teacher."
"Wow, really? That's great, Serana!" Cura lit up with joy for her friend.
"I don't know..." Serana felt uncertain. "If I accept, then I won't be able to travel with you."
Cura paused for a second.
That dream Carcette had years ago of her fighting Alduin with three strangers. She feared the deaths of her current friends, but perhaps there were other determining factors to why they were absent.
"Is this really something you want to do, Serana?" Cura asked.
Even if Serana stayed behind here, at least Cura could all but guarantee her safety. But she would not impose on her friend.
Serana locked up and pondered for a moment. "I... really don't know, Cura. I really like traveling with you. But I've also been enjoying helping others in their studies. It feels nice. Being paid to do it would only be a bonus." She put her hands on her cheeks and leaned forward in the chair. "I... just don't want you to be upset if we go out separate ways later on."
"Think on it, Serana." Cura tried to encourage her friend with a gentle brisk of her hand off the Vampiress' left shoulder. "I wouldn't be angry. I like traveling with you as well, but you should do what makes you happiest."
Serana nodded. "I'll give it some more thought. Thanks, Cura."
Cura smiled and nodded. "Of course." While she would be happy for Serana to have something new to focus on in her unlife, she felt a tad bittersweet herself. It would be sad to part ways, but Cura could always return to the college. She was a student, after all.
"You're always good to talk to." Serana remarked. "And you treat me like a person. I appreciate that."
Cura smiled in response. "Certainly."
Serana stood up from her seat. "I'll give it some more thought. I'll let you get some sleep now. Pleasant dreams, pretty girl." the vampiress laughed as she exited Cura's cell.
Cura rolled her eyes. 'Pretty girl.' Sheesh. She was insecure enough about the scar on her face. Though, maybe that uptightness was what borne the nickname.
Oh, well.
Cura lay back down in her bed and drifted off to sleep for the night.
The following morning, Lucien knocked at her door.
"Just a minute." he heard Cura's voice from behind the iron doors.
The shifting sounds of clothing and armour told him that she was getting changed. Lucien respectfully leaned against the stone wall beside the door and waited for his signal.
"All right." Cura permitted entry.
Lucien opened the doors and found her within, sitting at her desk with spell tomes stacked on her desk. "Good morning, Candle." he greeted her.
"Good morning, Lucien." Cura smiled. "Had a good night's rest?"
"I did, actually." Lucien proceeded to close the door courteously as he entered. "How about you?"
"Can't complain." Cura shrugged. She was used to having rough sleep for months, now, but here at the college she was able to rest easier.
"Good, that's good." Lucien said before locking up again. The two stared at one another in silence for a few moments as Cura expected him to speak some more.
He did. "Candle, we need to talk. I... have to explain the Azura's Star fiasco."
"No need. I understand." Cura tried to comfort him.
"No... I don't think you do." Lucien bit his index finger nervously. He could feel his knees knocking together as his nerves tensed. He knew he had to get this off his chest, and Cura's reaction to it would mean everything to him. "Candle... no... Cura. I..."
Cura looked at him with a tilted glance. "You...?"
"I..."
Why was it so hard?
"I... I think I love you." Lucien forced himself to say it.
The words hung in the air over the two of them for a few moments.
Cura was silent, but turned her face to her books for a few seconds.
"...Cura? Did you hear me?" Lucien asked.
The Breton was trying to fish for words, herself. Then they came to her. "Lucien, I don't know what to say..."
"Do you feel the same way?" Lucien asked. A blank expression spoke volumes. "Oh, who am I kidding? I know I'm not worthy of it. I'm no incredible warrior or wizard. I'm just a scholar. You're the Dragonborn. It would be incredibly tilted."
"I'm sorry, Lucien." Cura apologized. "I love you as a friend, but not romantically." She walked up to him and gently took his hand. "Aside from once, I've not thought much towards romance for ages, especially not with fate hanging over my head."
"I understand." Lucien sighed sadly as black fingers dug claws into his heart. He pulled away from the Dragonborn and opened the iron doors. "I... need some time alone. I've got to return to my studies."
His gloom was palpable and he hung his head as he passed through the doors.
"Lucien..." Cura reached out to him before he closed the doors behind him. The Dragonborn felt sad for her friend. "I'm sorry."
The Imperial walked out into the mild blizzard blowing in the courtyard and kicked a pile of snow.
He felt like a fool. He was utterly humiliated and the rejection stung like a swarm of wrathful bees. His only solace in it was the fact that she at least cared about him, even if their relationship was platonic.
Inigo leaned against a column under the bridging walkway above the courtyard. "Lucien! How did it go?"
"I don't want to talk about it." the scholar's voice squeaked as he walked into the Hall of Elements.
Inigo grit his teeth. "Oh... not well, then."
As Cura exited her cell, she was quickly approached by Nirya, the High Elf sorceress. "Ah, Cura. May I talk to you for a hot minute?" Her tone was dripping with all the poshness and sparkle of her ilk.
"Uh... sure." Cura didn't see the harm in it.
"Even the boldest pureblooded Altmer would not quite have the gall to simply march into the Thalmor Embassy and complain about an agent to his superiors. Ancano's head must be spinning from the sheer audacity alone! I relished a laugh at seeing his face earlier yesterday morning when the Thalmor agent delivered him that letter. Well done!" She seemed genuinely impressed and meted out applause.
Cura shrugged. "I was tired of him breathing down our necks. This is a college, not a prison."
"Well, you have my thanks." Nirya expressed. "Hopefully he'll stop trying to sneak a peek at the contents of my potions now." She walked out of the Hall of Countenance.
Brelyna was next to approach Cura as she exited her cell across from her. "Ah, Cura. Good morning."
"Good morning, Brelyna." Cura greeted back. "How goes it?"
"Well." Brelyna responded. "I heard you threw a curveball in Ancano's face."
Cura nodded. "What do you think of him?" Since she was a Dark Elf, it would be interesting to get her perspective on Ancano.
"I know I don't like the way he looks at me. I can't tell if he expects me to blow myself up, or to try and murder him. But he clearly doesn't trust any of us." Brelyna crossed her arms.
Cura agreed. "I know for certain he has it out for me. But I'm trying to ignore him for now. I just want to do my studies in peace."
"Agreed." Brelyna responded."Say, if you have a moment, could you help me with something?"
"Certainly." Cura agreed, to the Dunmer's delight.
"We're all trying to become better mages, right? Well, I need someone I can practice a few spells on. Nothing dangerous, really. Would you be willing to assist me?" Brelyna pushed a little further.
"It's not a hallucinogenic spell, is it?" Cura wondered.
Brelyna waved a hand dismissively. "No, not that kind of spell. Believe me when I say I wouldn't be asking if it weren't necessary."
"Uh... okay." Cura agreed.
"Oh, good. I was afraid I'd have to go ask J'zargo. Now, you just stand there..." Brelyna pointed to a spot in front of the magic well in the center of the big circular room.
Cura did as she was asked.
As Brelyna prepared to cast the spell, she warned: "Please hold still, and don't move."
She will casted a spell that whizzed through the air and connected with Cura. "There! Now, I..."
Cura's eyes became glassy and green, and her flesh gained a green tint. The Breton began to look around frantically. "Wait, what... what is this?!"
The Dunmer's expression turned to fear once she realized what she had mistakenly done. "Oh dear. That wasn't supposed to happen. Do you... do you feel all right? You look very, umm, green."
Brelyna apologized. "I am so very sorry. I went over this again and again, and I was sure it would have better results."
"I hope this isn't permanent." Cura growled.
Brelyna tried her best to remain calm. "It's not! It shouldn't be. You'll be back to normal in no time. And when you are, we can try this again and I'll be sure to get it right."
"How did this happen?" Cura asked as she examined the world through the odd green lenses.
"I'm not really sure. I think it's just a minor miscalculation on my part. I'm sure it will wear off soon. When it does, you'll be perfectly fine, and then we can try again. In the meantime, I'll see about figuring out what went wrong." Brelyna quickly began to sift through her book.
After some time, mercifully, the spell wore off, and Cura's flesh began to take on its pinkish hue.
"Oh, thank Stendarr!" Cura exclaimed with relief as colours returned to her vision. "It wore off."
"Exactly as I said it would." Brelyna finished pouring over her notes and returned her attention to the Breton. "Now, are you ready to try again? I am confident it will work this time."
"I think I've had enough of this." Cura was about to walk away when Brelyna interrupted her and pulled her back.
"Well I really would like to make sure I've corrected what happened last time. Please give me a chance to try again." the Dark Elf requested.
Cura sighed. "Do you think you know what you did wrong?"
"Yes, and I'm going to take a slightly different approach this time." Brelyna assured her.
"Okay, if you say so. If it's permanent, though, I'll never forgive you." Cura uncrossed her arms and walked back into place.
Brelyna extended a hand. "Okay, now don't move at all."
With a flash of green light Cura closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she could see the world from a shorter level of vision.
Something wasn't quite right.
When she looked down, she saw that her hands, which were now touching the floor, had turned into hooves. "Hrruuuhhhh?!" she vocalized with bovine vocal chords.
Brelyna's eyes widened and she nearly loosed a chuckle once she realized that Cura was turned into a cow. "Oh my. That isn't right! Just wait. Just... I can fix this."
She then cast another spell and instead transform Cura into a gray horse. "Oh no, that's not it at all. Let me try again..."
Poof!
Then Cura became a Dog.
"This really isn't turning out the way I'd hoped." Brelyna placed an embarrassed hand over her forehead. "I'll get it right this time, I swear."
With a wave, she turned Cura back to her original shape. "There, all better."
"'All better?"' Cura parroted back snidely. "That was horrendous! You turned me into a cow! A COW!" She threw up her arms angrily.
Brelyna shifted awkwardly and tried to diffuse the situation. "Well, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"
"Let's never speak of this again." Cura requested.
"Don't worry, nobody will ever hear about it." Brelyna tried to console her. "And thank you for your help. You're a good friend. I have a long way to go before I'm ready for the kind of advanced magic I've been attempting. But at least I know where to start now. You've been a great help to me."
"You're welcome, but next time, maybe ask J'zargo." Cura told her. "There is no way I'm going through that again."
"Fair enough." Brelyna relented as she began jotting down notes on her experiment.
When Cura exited the Hall of Countenance, she was met face-to-face with the Courier.
"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm supposed to deliver - your hands only."
"Yes, yes." Cura extended her hand with exasperation. She really wasn't in the mood right now.
"Looks like a note from a close friend. The Dawnguard said you'd be glad to see it." no sooner did the Courier say it than Cura's eyes lit up and an excited gasp escaped her throat.
"Looks like that's it. Got to go." the Courier took his leave after Cura took the letter.
She began to read it, leaning against the brick wall outside in the snow.
"My dearest Cura,
it was nice to hear from you! Yes, it hasn't been that long since we bade farewell, but the sentiment isn't lost. No, you're not a big baby. You're just tenderhearted, and there is nothing to be ashamed of in that.
It sounds like you're having quite the time there in Winterhold. I hope Colette is treating you well, at least. She can be a bit... much, I'll admit, but when it comes to Restoration, she's the finest teacher in Skyrim. Stay on her good side and she may surprise you. I've written her, too, by the way, so that she won't climb on your back about it. She will know about my situation and the Vigil's current predicament, so you won't have to explain it.
By the way, I think I told you the full story on how Colette was discharged from the Temple, didn't I? For turning a Turncoat Soldier inside-out? The Elder Priest thought it a horrific misuse of Stendarr's gifts. She'd never done it prior, but the soldier turned out not to be a Knight of Stendarr, but a 'Holy Piper' from Glenmoril. High Rock is the same as it's always been. I just thought I would add more context to the story so your friends don't fear her.
As for advice, I would tell you to do what you know to be right; treat others the way you would want to be treated, and be fruitful in your studies. Make the most of your time there and keep your friends who you can trust close.
And most importantly, remember that you are not responsible for the misfortunes of others; people have wills of their own, for better or for worse. And those who choose to follow you do so because they admire you, and love you. Never forget that. Always remember what you're fighting for.
Stendarr be with you, Cura. You can do it!
love,
Carcette"
Cura folded the letter and hugged it tightly. It was nice to see that she was doing well, and perhaps that bit of information would set some of the students at ease. She was ready to continue on with her studies now, and she resolved that she would reach the top of the Restoration School, and she would explore more and more of the Illusion, Alteration, Conjuration, and Destruction schools as well.
Taking Mirabelle's advice to heart, she was ready to buckle down and study - and ignore the world around her for the meantime.
She headed inside of the Arcanaeum and took out a few books when Urag Gro-Shub approached her with a couple of leather-covered journals in hand. "Here you go, kid, the Falmer Texts - perfectly translated by yours truly. Have fun."
"Thank you, Urag." Cura smiled as she received the journals.
"Fine, fine. Just remember - clean hands on clean books, or you get to meet Stendarr in person." Urag sneered as he walked away.
The first journal read as follows:
"The Betrayed
by Engwe Emeloth
And when the snow prince fell to the ground.
The ice elves divided above and below.
Now vanquished and brutally bound.
One moment had shattered all they did know.
The once cool wind on their skin.
Now replaced with the heat of the flame.
And a pride once felt deep within.
Forgotten along with their name.
Torn from their home of ice and frost.
Thrown into the pitch black dread of night.
Living in fear as their minds become lost.
As their eyes began dimming the light.
Chained and enslaved.
What once was light turned to blackness.
Alone and betrayed.
Sinking deeper into madness."
"I remember the Knight-Paladin speaking of this." Cura recalled Gelebor's solemn tale. "I had no idea the Snow Elves were so... poetic, but I suppose it really shouldn't be a surprise." They did seem like a sophisticated culture, if the Chantry was anything to go by.
Cura fawned over the marvel that was that ancient Sanctum again as she recalled it with her chin in her hands. The gorgeous white marble, the chiseled stonework, the gorgeous archways. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and the memory alone was breathtaking.
She wondered if Lucien would let her see his notebook again. He had sketched most of the sights while they were there.
Lucien...
Cura felt sad when she recalled his reaction earlier. She wished it weren't so complicated. She would try to make it up to him somehow, if he would allow it.
Cura shuffled that book to the side and flipped open the second one:
"Touching the Sky
Parnion Saldor
Many of the most dedicated Snow Elves once committed themselves to a tireless journey through the Chantry, to the temple. They carried with them the paramount desire to become one with their god Auriel. Though all set out with the determination to prove their worth, few were prepared for the trials that lay ahead, for the path to Auriel was not without its tribulations. The pilgrims struggled not only against the natural elements of the treacherous Vale, but with a myriad of tests upon their faith and loyalty.
It is told that many simply could not continue on the path for long before turning back. Some argue that the rebuke they endured upon their return was crueler than the punishment that may have lay ahead of them along the path. In their failed attempt they were forced to live in the shadow of those who did continue on to achieve the great glory and honor of ascension into the light forever. After their faith and loyalty in Auriel would be scrutinized and their remaining days filled with shame and regret.
Tales of those who reached the Inner Sanctum are not without their share of woes. It is said upon their arrival that many were mere shells of the person they had once been. Some went quiet from sleeplessness and starved to the point of frailty by the end of their journey. The marvel that they had strength yet to carry their vessel and ascend the stairs of the temple was the last true testament of their loyalty. Regardless of each individuals tale, the final words remain eerily similar. It is said that every pilgrim ascended bathed in light, a look of relief and contentment on their face."
Cura raised an eyebrow. Dramatic much? She had personally performed the pilgrimage with her friends and they were mostly fine. Perhaps having Inigo along really helped with levity, and the positive vibes kept the motion going. Unfortunately, she was certain the Snow Elves probably would never have allowed Inigo to participate in the pilgrimage. After all, if they were anything like Dunmer or Altmer as an ancient society, it was more than likely that they would have viewed him as an animal serf, not as an autonomous being. Such a shame.
Then she wondered if the Snow Elves ever made contact with the Argonians.
Patting her chin with the feather of her quill, Cura closed the second book and flipped open her Journal. After the annoying incident with Ancano earlier, she tore out the first few pages, as well as the entries therein. She was going to start over from scratch: rather than documenting her time there at the college, she would use it to document her studies and notes.
Cura locked her fingers together and stretched out her hands forward, readying for her first study session.