Mage (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 30: In Good Company

The wood within the wavering campfire hissed irritably as Kha'Drazza prodded at it with a small stick, shifting the large sticks in an attempt to catch more of them aflame. This was the second attempt she'd made at starting a fire. The climate in The Pale had been rather damp and unpleasant as of late, and we were not exempt from having to deal with its inconveniences in the slightest, it seemed. Thankfully, the snow and particularly bitter weather had held off so far, and the wood we had been able to find for a cooking fire had not been so damp that it was unusable. The khajiit muttered to herself as she regarded the weak, flickering flames, and she stalked over to her bag of scrolls, rummaging around until she found what she was looking for. It disintegrated in her hands, and she then proceeded to set the uncooperative campfire alight with a rather sizeable ball of fire.

That seemed to do the trick, as the kindling was instantaneously consumed by fire, flames lapping over the outlying logs hungrily as they began to blacken. Seeming satisfied with her efforts, the bard stepped back from the blaze, clearly appreciating the its much-needed warmth on such a miserably damp evening. I was of a similar mind as I pushed myself up from the frozen earth and moved to take a closer seat, sending the khajiit a grateful smile. "That was certainly an inventive way to do that," I remarked, settling into a comfortable position on the ground once more.

"Khajiit tries," Kha'Drazza remarked with a shrug, her tail flicking slightly as she sat down next to me, "It is better than freezing, no?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you got it lit," I said with a laugh, a question suddenly striking me in that instant. "By the way, how did you come across such a multitude of scrolls? It seems like it'd get really expensive to purchase that many."

"Oh, this one does not buy scrolls," she replied dismissively, "She makes them."

"Wait, really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I waited for her to continue.

"Is it so hard to believe?" She looked back at me quizzically, almost seeming like she thought of it as a pastime rather than a near-lost art.

"Kind of. How on Nirn did you pick up a skill like that?"

"When Kha'Drazza was in Cyrodiil, she met a kindly old spellbinder. He was versed in the art of writing scrolls, and this one decided to pick up the skill. It is a dying practice, some say, but for those like this one, it is a very important skill. Does the breton know much of signs?"

"Signs?" I echoed, completely lost.

The khajiit sighed, an ear flicking in annoyance. "Birthsigns. The circumstances under which every individual to walk Tamriel is born?"

"... I can't say I know much about them."

"Well, khajiit was born under The Atronach, and it makes it so this one must conserve all magicka for moments of importance. Kha'Drazza can have more than most, but when used, it does not regenerate," the bard replied matter-of-factly, noting the concerned look on my face with amusement, "There are ways to replenish it, but they are time consuming, uncommon, or unpleasant. This is why khajiit is a bard, and not a mage. And why she has so many scrolls. It is an art any could practice, if they have the skill."