Elara stepped slowly into the Hall of Elements. It took her a few moments to adjust her eyes to the dimly lit room and to adapt to the multitude of magic frequencies that permeated the hall. Centuries of magic, she thought in awe. She noticed the instructor and a group of mages at the far end of the hall and hurried to reach them.
“As students of magic, you are all aware that the study of the arcane is the very study of the life around us. Yet, as your guide and teacher at the College, I feel it is also necessary to warn you of the dangers inherent in letting the study of magic turn into a corrupting desire to dominate others. History has provided ample evidence that we deal with very powerful forces, and it can be destructive to allow your will to be dominated by it.” Tolfdir stopped and acknowledged Elara’s presence with a nod and warm smile. Three other students, a Khajiit, dark Elf, and a Nord peered over at her.
“Well, I think my introductory lecture on the application of magic is over for now,” Tolfdir continued, “and it is time for practice. How would you like to demonstrate the usefulness of learning a ward?” He looked at Elara expectantly.
“Aaaah, the consequences for arriving late,” the Khajiit purred softly so that only Elara would hear.
She stepped up to Tolfdir, who then moved some feet away.
“I will direct a flame spell towards you, and you will protect yourself by using a ward.” Tolfdir raised his hands and nodded that he would begin.
Elara felt the subtleties in the energy around her, distilled them in her mind, and knit them together to create a shield between her and Tolfdir just as she saw the flames shoot from his hands. Tolfdir continually shifted his aim, trying to find a weakness in her shield. Tolfdir lowered his hands and gave an appraising glance to Elara.
“Now that is what I call a ward. A little different from what I am used to seeing, but extremely effective. You will have to tell me later where you learned that.” Tolfdir turned back to the group and continued. “You all have the opportunity to practice in the Hall of Elements, or to rest for our expedition to Saarthal tomorrow. Good work and again, welcome!”
The gaze of the other students made Elara uncomfortable. The dark elf sidled over to a dark corner of the hall to practice some conjuration spells. Elara moved quickly to the door, hoping to avoid any conversation. The Khajiit was swiftly by her side and softly growled.
“J’zargo can make wards twice as high and three times as wide.” He then slid past her and out the door.
“Don’t mind him. Everything is a competition to J’zargo. See, he even had to beat you out the door first.” The Nord student laughed and offered his hand. “My name is Onmund.”
“Elara.” Her eyes met the steady gaze of the tall, broad-shouldered Nord.
“A Breton from High Rock in Winterhold? High Rock is filled with magic colleges.”
She did not answer the hidden question in his statement, but smiled and said, “I could also ask questions about the rarity of a Nord practicing magic.”
“Touché. I did not mean to pry. We have all been here a week waiting for classes to begin, so we have gotten all the preliminaries out of the way already. Then you blow in just as our first lecture begins and set out a magnificent ward that made J’zargo jealous, frankly all of us. It is all very intriguing, and you know mages. We cannot stand a mystery.” Onmund looked at Elara keenly.
“I...ah...well, Mirabelle…” Elara struggled. It had all happened so quickly, she thought, and would this friendly Nord understand if she said she felt like the wind itself was pushing her towards Winterhold and then the College? Instinctively, she knew she did not have a choice.
Onmund laughed heartily, “Mirabelle could convince an Altmer to believe Tiber Septim is the Ninth Divine. However, you really only answered part of my question.”
Elara summoned a firm smile, as she felt the familiar tug in her heart between maintaining her distance and making friends. If she was to find her father, she could not risk others finding out about the incident in Helgen.
“All right, I get the message,” Onmund put his hands up in surrender. “Best rest up for our adventure in Saarthal. It is a small trek from here,” he added amiably.
Elara sighed in relief. “Mama, I hope you are right,” she whispered as a tiny breeze ruffled the auburn tendrils on the nape of her neck.
The next part can be found here!
Elara stepped slowly into the Hall of Elements. It took her a few moments to adjust her eyes to the dimly lit room and to adapt to the multitude of magic frequencies that permeated the hall. Centuries of magic, she thought in awe. She noticed the instructor and a group of mages at the far end of the hall and hurried to reach them.
“As students of magic, you are all aware that the study of the arcane is the very study of the life around us. Yet, as your guide and teacher at the College, I feel it is also necessary to warn you of the dangers inherent in letting the study of magic turn into a corrupting desire to dominate others. History has provided ample evidence that we deal with very powerful forces, and it can be destructive to allow your will to be dominated by it.” Tolfdir stopped and acknowledged Elara’s presence with a nod and warm smile. Three other students, a Khajiit, dark Elf, and a Nord peered over at her.
“Well, I think my introductory lecture on the application of magic is over for now,” Tolfdir continued, “and it is time for practice. How would you like to demonstrate the usefulness of learning a ward?” He looked at Elara expectantly.
“Aaaah, the consequences for arriving late,” the Khajiit purred softly so that only Elara would hear.
She stepped up to Tolfdir, who then moved some feet away.
“I will direct a flame spell towards you, and you will protect yourself by using a ward.” Tolfdir raised his hands and nodded that he would begin.
Elara felt the subtleties in the energy around her, distilled them in her mind, and knit them together to create a shield between her and Tolfdir just as she saw the flames shoot from his hands. Tolfdir continually shifted his aim, trying to find a weakness in her shield. Tolfdir lowered his hands and gave an appraising glance to Elara.
“Now that is what I call a ward. A little different from what I am used to seeing, but extremely effective. You will have to tell me later where you learned that.” Tolfdir turned back to the group and continued. “You all have the opportunity to practice in the Hall of Elements, or to rest for our expedition to Saarthal tomorrow. Good work and again, welcome!”
The gaze of the other students made Elara uncomfortable. The dark elf sidled over to a dark corner of the hall to practice some conjuration spells. Elara moved quickly to the door, hoping to avoid any conversation. The Khajiit was swiftly by her side and softly growled.
“J’zargo can make wards twice as high and three times as wide.” He then slid past her and out the door.
“Don’t mind him. Everything is a competition to J’zargo. See, he even had to beat you out the door first.” The Nord student laughed and offered his hand. “My name is Onmund.”
“Elara.” Her eyes met the steady gaze of the tall, broad-shouldered Nord.
“A Breton from High Rock in Winterhold? High Rock is filled with magic colleges.”
She did not answer the hidden question in his statement, but smiled and said, “I could also ask questions about the rarity of a Nord practicing magic.”
“Touché. I did not mean to pry. We have all been here a week waiting for classes to begin, so we have gotten all the preliminaries out of the way already. Then you blow in just as our first lecture begins and set out a magnificent ward that made J’zargo jealous, frankly all of us. It is all very intriguing, and you know mages. We cannot stand a mystery.” Onmund looked at Elara keenly.
“I...ah...well, Mirabelle…” Elara struggled. It had all happened so quickly, she thought, and would this friendly Nord understand if she said she felt like the wind itself was pushing her towards Winterhold and then the College? Instinctively, she knew she did not have a choice.
Onmund laughed heartily, “Mirabelle could convince an Altmer to believe Tiber Septim is the Ninth Divine. However, you really only answered part of my question.”
Elara summoned a firm smile, as she felt the familiar tug in her heart between maintaining her distance and making friends. If she was to find her father, she could not risk others finding out about the incident in Helgen.
“All right, I get the message,” Onmund put his hands up in surrender. “Best rest up for our adventure in Saarthal. It is a small trek from here,” he added amiably.
Elara sighed in relief. “Mama, I hope you are right,” she whispered as a tiny breeze ruffled the auburn tendrils on the nape of her neck.
The next part can be found here!
