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."
"I see," I replied after a moment of contemplative silence, "I wonder why there's been such a shortage in Skyrim, then."
"Scroll-making does require an extensive understanding of some more complex runes and written spellcasting. This one does not think many Nords are the type to have enough patience to put all the time that is needed into the craft," the khajiit replied, "They would rather smash things with steel, from Kha'Drazza's experience."
I let out a huff of amusement, as the bard's assessment didn't seem too stereotypical from what I had seen of the proud race myself. "Makes me wonder if when we get to Winterhold, the College is made up of nothing but people trying to use frost magic to keep their mead chilled indefinitely," I joked, causing the bard to roll her eyes.
"That would be a worthy cause, indeed," She purred facetiously, the corners of her mouth curling up into a smile of sorts.
"Oh, good, looks like you got the fire going."
I turned, briefly surprised, discovering that Adir had rejoined us, carrying a heavy looking copper cooking pot, some iron stakes, and a burlap sack that appeared to be bursting at the seams—doubtless filled with food and other ingredients. He carried both these items with such ease that they appeared to weigh almost nothing, and proceeded to set them down carefully a short distance from the campfire, adding with a sheepish smile, "It might take me a few minutes to get the pot set up—more until the food's ready, but at least we'll be able to have something warm for supper."
"Sounds fine to me," I replied appreciatively, suddenly feeling guilty for sitting by as my new companions did all the work. I got to my feet quickly and moved to meet him, asking, "Need any help?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind. It'd be great if you'd set up the supports for the pot while I get the food ready."
"I can manage that." I picked up one of the stylized u-shaped iron stakes and plunged it into the earth just slightly to the right of the fire, straining as I endeavored to pierce the half-thawed ground with the blunted tips of the metal. Putting in the second stake was somewhat easier, but the experience was more than to remind me just how little upper body strength I had. It was actually somewhat embarrassing, but if Adir or Kha'Drazza noticed how much I had struggled, they were kind enough not to point it out.
By the time I had securely laid the bar across the indentations in the correlating stakes, the redguard was nearly finished peeling and cutting up three decently-sized potatoes with a paring knife, appearing to have finished with the base of whatever dish he intended to prepare. The small blade moved quickly yet with careful precision as he finished with the last potato, the steel glimmering faintly in the light cast by the fire. I watched with some interest as he paused, setting the knife aside and withdrawing a small satchel from within the sack. From it, he withdrew a head of garlic and removed a couple of cloves before putting the majority of the herb away, mincing the cloves as finely as he could without the use of a—perhaps much needed—cutting board.
As he took a moment to add a few pinches of salt to the dish, he finally seemed to notice I had been watching his work, and offered me a friendly smile as he glanced at the decently set up cooking spit. "Thanks for getting that ready. I should have this ready to cook soon." He paused, looking down at the contents of his pot with a critical eye, "Think I should add anything?"
"No problem, and I wouldn't be one to ask, honestly. It looks great to me," I remarked as I followed his gaze. I noticed he'd also cut up some leeks while I had been occupied with the stakes, and he'd added a small amount of water for the soup's base. He clearly knew what he was doing—and the most advanced cooking I'd ever done was baking a batch of fig crostatas as a child, which resulted in a tragic supply of pastries that had been so badly burnt most were inedible.
"I'm used to having more to work with, but I guess this will do. Besides, I don't want to keep everyone waiting," the knight-errant sighed, grabbing the pot by its handle before walking over to the fire, a wooden spoon in hand.
He carefully lifted the bar, sliding it through the handle so the pot's contents could stew for a while. After doing this, however, it was clear Adir did not plan on moving far from the fire, and would stir the contents of the copper stockpot from time to time. It was rather obvious we were all worn out from our time on the road earlier that day, as, despite the advantage of having a horse and cart to get around, both managing Zephyr and staving off the cold had not exactly been easy.
And, on my end, I'd spent a good deal of the day studying Mélisande's journal, which required a good deal of focus and willpower to get through at times. Today was one such instance, as I decided to skim her journal for more information about the techniques she'd learned to use spells to enhance or focus unbound weapons. Despite having found one very coherent passage before, other notes I found on the subject either seemed to be speculation or so choppy and vague I doubted she'd been paying much attention to what she'd written. And unfortunately enough for me, she had not been of a mind to divide the book into sections, as both personal experiences, academic notes, and out of place, seemingly random musings could often be found scribbled one after the other. Why'd she feel the need to cram so much into the thing, anyway? I wondered, feeling somewhat annoyed, I can't even imagine why Mél even wanted to record the immature pranks she played as an apprentice in the Imperial Mages Guild and serious notes on advanced spellcasting in the same place. She's truly an enigma, I deadpanned internally, my lips curving into a thin, unamused line as I took a seat by Kha'Drazza once more. The dagi-raht had taken out some parchment and charcoal and seemed to be drawing something on it with a fluid and focused manner, the design looking to be of an arcane nature. I decided not to interrupt her work, instead staring into the now quite cozy-looking campfire and allowing myself to zone out for a while.
I was brought back into the present by an enticing smell, one I quickly discovered was now wafting from the pot over the fire. It was then I was made painfully aware of just how hungry the day's events had made me, and I looked up to see that, to my relief, Adir was in the process of removing the container from its place. He looked slightly displeased, but still sounded cheerful enough as he announced, "Well, dinner is served. It's a little plainer than I would have liked it to be, but I hope it won't be too bland."
"The redguard is far too hard on himself. It smells wonderful," Kha'Drazza purred appreciatively, and I realized she had gotten up to retrieve a few undecorated wooden bowls, offering one to me as she moved back into the heart of our makeshift camp. I accepted it with a nod of thanks, and she turned her full focus back to Adir, adding, "The only thing this one is worried about is it cooling before she gets a taste."
He relinquished the pot of leek and potato soup to the hungry khajiit, who carefully served herself a generous portion before passing the stockpot to me. I hesitated for a second, sending a questioning glance Adir's way. "Go ahead," he replied, looking slightly embarrassed, "I may or may not have eaten a bit before I got started cooking, so I can wait."
I grinned slightly at his explanation, serving myself quickly and passing the large copper bowl on. It was then I realized I hadn't been given any utensils, but, at this time, I'd been traveling through Skyrim long enough that it wasn't all that shocking, nor did I particularly mind it. I lifted the small bowl to my lips, enjoying the pleasant warmth radiating from it before taking a cautious sip. Despite the knight-errant's apparent disappointment with his creation, it was without exaggeration the best thing I'd eaten in weeks. The broth was light but satisfying, and the diced potatoes were well complimented with the fresh greenness of the added leeks and the pungent bitterness of the garlic cloves. I had to force myself not to act even more unmannerly than I was by wolfing it down, though it appeared I was not the only one enjoying the redguard's dish, as Kha'Drazza seemed to be near finished with hers, a content look on her face as she briefly set aside its very meager remnants.
"This one wonders why the redguard is so concerned about his food. If khajiit did not know better, she might think he was Skyrim's much lauded Gourmet," the bard remarked flatteringly, causing Adir to chuckle dryly.
"Well, I'd hardly think this would be anywhere near the quality of their work, and, if so, they're highly overrated," he replied, "But thank you. I suppose it wasn't horrible, all things considered."
"If this 'wasn't horrible', I'd love to see what you consider to be a good meal," I responded teasingly, "How did you get so good at cooking, anyway?"
"Life as an innkeeper's son has its benefits, though it doesn't really prepare you much for the adventuring life at all," Adir answered with a shrug, "But at least we won't run the risk of growing sick of our provisions for a while—as long as we have provisions to begin with, anyways."
Kha'Drazza spoke before I could come up with any sort of a reply, somewhat changing the focus of the conversation. "So, this one cannot help it any longer—she is very curious to learn more about her new Breton companion. Surely she has seen many interesting things, to be able to stay so calm while killing dragons, yes?"
I froze momentarily, uncertain as to just how much I should tell these two near-strangers about my 'adventures'. Despite how friendly and open they seemed, I had just met them, and, unlike when I first set out from home, I was not particularly eager to go spilling every detail of my life to any stranger who asked. And, for that matter, there was the fact that half of what I had been through at this point was so outlandish and improbable that I would not blame them if my newly-made acquaintances thought I was making it up. I was going to have to be careful about what I did and did not choose to tell them. Perhaps for the first time during my travels, I was actually erring on the side of caution. I found this sudden revelation so amusing it was difficult to keep myself from laughing at the irony of it all, considering how unthreatening present company seemed in comparison to some of the friends I had made before.
"Well, there's really not that much to tell..." I began slowly, purposefully avoiding making eye contact with either of them as I spoke, "I don't have any flashy titles or particular claims to fame or power, if that's what you wanted to know about. About a month ago, I was an entirely remarkable farm girl who aspired to be a practitioner of the arcane arts. As is probably evident by the fact I'm still rather far away from Winterhold, however, I have yet to fulfil this goal, although I met some wonderful... fellow adventurers during my travels. I accompanied them for some time, but. Recently, we parted ways, and not in a particularly pleasant manner. I would rather not speak of my travels in greater detail than this."
The genuine exhaustion and grief that slipped into my explanation surprised me, but turned out to work to my advantage, as, all at once, the dagi-raht's countenance took on an expression of surprised guilt, and she hastened to apologize, "Of course; khajiit is sorry to have pried. She did not know it was a subject the mage did not want to speak of, and will not ask further unless she wishes to speak of it herself."
Upon seeing that look on her face, as well as Adir's more concerned, sympathetic expression, I immediately felt as if even that had been oversharing, and a highly unnecessary kind at that. And you didn't even mention things that might prove to be kind of important to anyone who's traveling with you. Like, "oh, and by the way, a Daedric Prince has been getting into my head a lot lately so if I never sleep and potentially do something odd, dangerous, or insensitive, it's probably because of that! And also there's a possibility that if we run into a Reachman, he'll address me by name before trying to murder us, but no worries! I don't support their cause, that's my brother, who happens to be heading off the whole damn organization!" My conscience practically shrieked at me, but I forced those thoughts from my mind with all the willpower I could muster. Not like it'd benefit Ealdwine to send anyone all the way out here, I reasoned with myself, And Vaermina's not their problem.
Despite the sincerity of her apology, the bard was quick to return to her previous cheerful, lively demeanor, adding in a much more upbeat tone, "Kha'Drazza would be more than willing to demonstrate her skills as a bard, if those present are interested in hearing her work. She has just finished revising a piece about a follower of S'rendarr—er, 'Stendarr'—'s somewhat failed crusade against Daedra in Skyrim."
I raised an eyebrow at her description. "With a lead-in like that, how could I not be interested?"
"Let's hear it!" Adir nodded in agreement, giving the dagi-raht an encouraging smile.
With a pleased, slow blink, Kha'Drazza took a moment to compose herself, taking a deep breath as her face assumed a look of concentration. From memory, she began her recitation, her words ringing clear and true as the tale she told took its hold on her.
"One dim eve at the end of Sun's Height
A robe-clad traveler walked alone
And noted with tired and great relief
The dirt path he trod lead to stone
Further on he pass'd a site
Of unmistakable note
To the modest hamlet of Dragon Bridge
Where rumors of Daedra were afloat
Despite the candles burning bright
In the windows of their inn,
The traveler was quite ill at ease
His grand task about to begin.
Though shadowed by the touch of dusk
This stranger moved with pure intent
Guided by the hand of a Merciful god
As is expected of a Vigilant
No mountain was too high to climb
No request from god-fearing folk too odd
T'was never a more pious man
Than Vigilant Todd..."
Kha'Drazza trailed off dramatically for a moment, breathing in deeply before she continued her grand and fantastic chronicle.
"He made his way into the inn
And took a seat by the fire
Taking note of the few patrons there
Seeking possible cultists or vampires
To his ire, he found no obvi'us signs
Of influence of a nefarious kind
While the night grew long, and longer still
Exhaustion wearing at his state of mind
With discontent he got to his feet
Keeping his sight sharp and ears perked
Unsure of what he had possibly missed
He had been certain his method 'just worked'.
It seemed a fellow patron had noticed his plight
And offered a sympathetic smile
Quoth he, 'Tis a lonely, dull eve, my friend,
Won't you sit and drink with me for awhile?'
The Vigilant gave a smile of thanks
Accepting his offer with a nod
T'was never a more amiable man
Than Vigilant Todd..."
The khajiiti bard's voice rose excitedly as she started off the next verse, her eyes shining with merriment as she continued to hold her listeners in suspense.
"Willingly, Todd took a seat
Within the stranger's space
Neglecting to catch a glimpse
Of that saccharine smiling face
Now with a flagon of ale in hand
Did the Vigilant's goodwill dip
But with a cough, he shook it off
'I'll only have one sip...'
The stranger laughed most jovially
And toasted him with cheer
Regaling him with trav'ling tales
As one would with friends most dear
Now, Vigilant Todd forgot his vow
To put his work 'fore pleasantries
But like a man entranc'd he carried on
Drink fueling his now euphoric revelry
Quite red-cheek'd and most loose of tongue
The vigilant crow'd his purpose loud
His companion smirking at the irony
That this incompetent soul be so proud
Quoth the stranger, 'Noble indeed is your cause
One most glorious, one worth basking in
Though I must away ere the dawn grows near
We shall meet again—sure as I'm Sam Guevenne.'
Slack-jawed, the Vigilant watched in awe
As his companion vaporiz'd
Thin air and an empty tankard now
All that remained of the place he occupied
With a shout Todd rose from his seat
Realizing he'd been played for a fool
And as the sun crept o'er the hills
The Vigilant skipped town, duty overruled
On that fateful day, he made a vow
To never commit to oaths so broad
T'was never a more perfidious man
Than Vigilant Todd!"
She finished in an almost triumphant crow, bowing overdramatically to signify she'd finished her piece. I'd been caught off-guard by her ending, and couldn't keep myself from chuckling at her characterization of the odd man, and it appeared Adir had been as well, as he had pressed a hand against his mouth as he shook with silent laughter. Straightening, the bard looked to us expectantly, clearly wanting feedback on her performance.
Not wanting to let her down, I replied as soon as I was able. "I've never heard anything like that before in my life, and you pulled it off very nicely! I have to ask, though... What in Oblivion possessed somebody to name their child 'Todd'?"
Kha'Drazza let out an amused mrrow. "This one is not sure. It is a moniker most unusual, no? But it works well in verse, so Kha'Drazza has no complaints."
"Strange or not, I agree," Adir remarked, "I, for one, would like to meet this guy. Not that he sounds much like someone to look up to or anything, but he must lead an incredibly interesting life."
"This one is inclined to agree, although she heard the story from an innkeep and not Todd himself. She wishes she could track the fellow down, but in Skyrim, it is not such a good idea to try and track a mere rumor. For now, khajiit is content with the material she has on him."
It was at this time the dagi-raht emitted a fatigued yawn, and her ears flicking lazily as she continued, "And, if her friends do not mind, Kha'Drazza thinks she will turn in for the night. There is still much ground to cover to cover, yes?"
"You're right. I'm getting tired myself." Adir agreed.
"I'll take first watch," I offered quickly, not wanting anyone to beat me to it. I had no intention of sleeping much that night. Or anytime soon, for that matter.
"Are you sure? I wouldn't mind," Adir questioned, looking slightly concerned.
I fought off a grimace before replying, "Yeah, don't worry about it. You guys get some rest."
At least you actually have the chance to benefit from it.
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Just so you guys know, this is the last chapter of Mage. I'm quitting to become a ballad writer. There's still demand for those somewhere, right?
In all seriousness, though, I had way too much fun writing this chapter up—probably because I didn't take it all that seriously, and hope you guys don't mind that too much. After the intensity of last chapter and due to personal circumstances, I needed to change things up a bit, and this fit the bill.
On the very off chance that someone from Bethesda actually sees this, I mean this to be a parody and I obviously appreciate the company and its employees enough to write a (stupidly long) story about it. I do not intend to offend. Thought I'd make that clear, just in case!
Also I hate to be that person, but if you'd be interested, there's a possibility I might be willing to sing "Vigilant Todd" myself. For the small price of fifty votes within the next month. Or before I post Chapter 31. Whichever comes first, haha. Just thought I'd let you guys know that's a possibility.
I will do my best to try and get chapters published on a more timely basis, too. Ideally, I'd have this thing finished by June (I've been working on it so long I'm dissatisfied with some current plot elements and need to finish before I find myself unwilling to finish at all), but that may be a bit too ambitious. It's a goal to strive for, though!
~~~~~
QUESTIONS:
Question (From IMoozie for Helgír): Do you think there is another Dragonborn out there? If so, how would you feel? (Other then Miraak)
Answer (By Helgír): I doubt that there is, considering what the Greybeards have told me, but even they are not omniscient. If one did exist... I'm not sure. They could prove to be a huge liability or threat, but just as easily pose a welcome ally in these trying times. I suppose it would all depend on the individual. And who is this "Miraak" you speak of?
Question (From ConflictedReader to Helvia): Would be willing to leave Skyrim and start a new life?
Answer (By Helvia): Considering I came here for the same reason, I don't think that would work out too well. And I can't abandon my purpose so easily, not now that I have more reason than ever to see to it that the Forsworn are stopped. And I doubt it would do anything to fix my troubles with Vaermina. I am starting to wish I'd gone to Hammerfell instead, though.
~~~~~
If anyone has any more questions for anyone in Mage, feel free to ask them! If they've appeared in Mage at all, regardless of how long they were a part of the story, they're open to ask questions!
Well, as always, please do leave a vote and/or comment if you enjoyed the chapter, and see you next time! Good adventuring, dear readers!
-AA