Chapter Text
Brelyna:
“Are you sure you want to go all the way out there?” Neloth asked from across the room as Brelyna packed her bag. “You could get just as much hands on experience staying here as my assistant-”
“For Azura’s sake, Uncle! She’s told you time and time again she’s going!”
Brelyna sighed and nodded a thanks to her sister. Soriri was packing as well. All of them were, actually, save for Neloth.
“It’ll be a good cultural experience, Uncle. People from all over Skyrim go to Winterhold.”
Neloth snorted. “That’s because it’s the only magical college in that Malacath-forsaken ice hell. ‘Cultural experience’ my eye! The Nords hate magic. It’s too complicated for them to ever understand.”
Brelyna shook her head. “Good. More books and tomes for me.” She pulled the drawstring on her bag shut and left the room before her uncle could snark further.
Onmund:
“If that’s what you really are, you can leave! You can get out!”
“...Fine!”
“Fine!”
“I’m going!”
“Good! Don’t bother coming back!”
The Nord’s brown hair was blown back slightly as the door slammed in his face. He stood at his family’s doorstep for a few moments. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he was waiting for his mother or father to let him back in.
But they didn’t. As he leaned down to pick up the meager sack of supplies that had been tossed out after him, Onmund realized his vision was getting blurry. He wiped his face before the tears could freeze to it and walked away, trying his hardest not to look back.
J’zargo:
The border patrol agent tapped her quill pen on the desk impatiently as she looked up at the Khajiit in front of her desk. “Name?” she asked flatly.
“J’zargo.”
“Occupation?”
“J’zargo is a mage. A student mage,” he added hastily. “But not for long,” he reassured the Imperial agent, who just rolled her eyes.
“Home province?”
“This one’s family was part of a caravan. J’zargo has no true home.”
The Khajiit’s greyish fur bristled a bit as he saw the Imperial casually write down “Elsweyr” under the home province section. He hadn’t been there in years. But he bit his tongue. He needed these papers after all.
“Length of stay?”
J’zargo cleared his throat. “J’zargo...does not know. Five years, perhaps? How long does it take for one to become a powerful mage?”
The agent’s eyes rolled again so hard that J’zargo wondered how she didn’t strain herself. He didn’t get a chance to ask, though, as she wrote down “Indefinitely”, stamped the travel papers, and slid them back across the desk. J’zargo took this as his cue to leave and hurried away before the captain noticed the strange gem on her desk was missing.
Minerva Ailee:
“I...hate...boats!”
The cold of Dawnstar soaked into her bones as Minerva stepped shakily off the boat. Fixing her eyes on a nearby barrel, she sprinted over to it and immediately lost her lunch. Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw a sailor pass by and smirk at her condescendingly. The Breton tried to glare back at him, but it was hard to muster any energy while her stomach twisted and turned. After her stomach was emptied, she adjusted her hood and coughed a bit.
“Never again...” she muttered to herself as she stumbled off to find the local inn. “No boats, ever again...Don’t care what Grandpa says about bandits, I’m taking a cart next time...”
“...Initially, you’ll be learning from Tolfdir, one one of our most esteemed Wizards,” Mirabelle explained as she led Minerva around the College courtyard. The two Bretons stopped before a large metal door, which Mirabelle pushed open slightly. “Tolfdir is likely already addressing the new apprentices.” She gestured for the younger woman to enter. “If you have any problems, let one of our senior members know.”
Inside, the tower was just as big as it looked on the outside. Most of the tower was taken up by what Minerva assumed was the lecture hall. It was a round area with high ceilings, and had magical lights lining the edges.
Standing in the middle of the room was a very diverse group of people: Two Nords, a Dunmer, and a Khajit. The Dunmer, Khajit, and one of the Nords wore the same robes that Mirabelle had given her. The other Nord, who Minerva assumed was Tolfdir, turned as the door opened. He gestured for Minerva to join them. “Come in, come in! We were just getting started!”
Minerva walked up to put herself in line with the other students, standing next to the Khajit, who gave her a sideways glance. Tolfdir turned so he was facing all of the students at once. “Now then, as I was saying, the most important thing to remember about magic is that it’s dangerous. Go too far, lose control and it will kill you .”
The Dunmer crossed her arms. “With all due respect, sir, I think we all know that. We wouldn’t be here if we could control our magic!”
Tolfdir shook his head. “All of you are very talented, I’m not disputing that. But what I’m talking about is more than talent. I’m talking about true control and mastery of magic, something that takes years of hard work and study to achieve!”
The Khajiit rubbed his hands together. “Then what are we waiting for?” he asked in a thick accent. “If years is what it will take, then all the more reason to start now!”
Tolfdir raised his hands and shook his head. “Please, please! This is exactly what I'm talking about. I’m glad you’re all eager, but eagerness must be tempered with caution, or else disaster is inevitable.”
The Nord boy bit his lip. “But you don’t even know what any of us are capable of yet!” he said nervously, looking at the other students as if asking for reassurance.
Minerva puffed out her cheeks. “Yeah, I didn’t get seasick for two weeks straight to listen to a lecture on why magic is dangerous and we shouldn’t use it!”
“That’s not what I...ugh.” Tolfdir put his head in his hands. “Fine, fine. Since you all seem to be in agreement. In continuing with our theme of safety, we’ll start with Wards. Wards are protective spells used to block magic.” He thought a bit and pointed at the Dunmer. “Brelyna! Do you know a ward spell?”
Brelyna nodded. “A basic one.”
“Excellent. Now, I’m going to throw a fireball at you. Concentrate on keeping the ward up, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Brelyna raised her hands, and a light blue halo appeared in front of her. Tolfdir charged up a fireball, which exploded harmlessly against the ward. Brelyna barely even flinched. “Well done! Now, I want you all to practice with partners. Brelyna, can you show the other students?”
After Brelyna taught the others the concentration technique, they paired up; Brelyna with the Khajiit and Minerva with the Nord.
Brelyna:
As soon as the Khajit opened his mouth, Brelyna knew what he was going to say. She held up her hands. “Yes, I know I have an ancestry steeped in magic, and no, I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, I know Winterhold used to be full of my kind, and no, I don’t care that they’re all gone now. Does that about cover everything?” She crossed her arms.
The Khajit’s ears twitched. “Eh, no. J’zargo was actually wondering if you had mastered Expert level Destruction spells yet?”
Brelyna felt her cheeks flush. “Oh,” she said, very embarrassed. “No, I’m still working on learning those.”
The Khajit chuckled. “That is good. But J’zargo will learn them first.” J’zargo straightened up and stood taller as he said this. “It is good to meet mages who will be able to keep up with J’zargo.”
Brelyna tried to resist rolling her eyes. “You’re a competitive one, aren’t you?” She paused and fiddled with the hem of her robes a bit. “Um...I’m sorry about that.”
J’zargo waved her off. “It is nothing. You get those questions a lot, hm?”
Brelyna let out a short laugh. “You noticed, huh? I don’t think I introduced myself. Brelyna Maryon, of House Telvanni”
She held out her hand for J’zargo to shake when she heard a loud thud. The two students turned to see the Nord student on the ground, nursing a black eye. “What was that for?” he snapped at his partner.
The short Breton blinked in confusion. “What? You said ‘hit me!’”
The Nord winced. “With magic, not your fists!”
The Breton crossed her arms. “Er...well, you should have been more specific!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Brelyna saw Tolfdir take a bottle out of his pocket and take a long sip.
This was going to be a long year.
