Tranquil Air - 6

Having established firmer footing, I now turned my attention to the strange, thick roots that hung from the dirt platform.

Ripping a few free, I inspected them. These held power. Life itself seemed to pulse in my hands.

Experimenting with the roots, I fused a few together, just as I had the stones. I expected a block of roots - but what I got instead - well.

The emerald sapling that I held in my hands had a strong essence, as powerful in its way as the water spirit was.

I collected the rest of the roots. A strange feeling in my gut said I wouldn't get any more.

That done, I placed down a block of dirt several stone blocks away from my platform, and planted the tree there. It made me feel - better. I wasn't alone here. The water spirit, and now the tree, would be all the company I needed.

Tranquil Air - 5

My plan slowly came to fruition. The rocks I collected were feather-light once broken from the ground, just as the dirt had been. It was no great task to collect what should have been a literal ton of rock - and it all fit neatly into my pocket.

Satisfied that I had enough stone, I embraced the waters once again, sliding off the edge. I kept myself at a level just under my platform through sheer effort, and stuck stone after stone to the underside of the dirt. Stone, once placed, seemed to be immune to gravity, just as the dirt was. I soon discovered that the stone was happy to stick to itself, as well.

I could do a lot with such tools. I used to consider myself an artist, back before my impossibly potent magical talent in magic took over my life - and here were the most responsive materials I'd ever worked. I would make this world a work of art, I decided. My masterpiece.

After all, I had nothing but time and empty space.

Tranquil Air - 4

I was lucky. I managed to catch myself in the swift-moving waterfall several blocks below my platform.

The spirit of the water - welcomed me. I can't explain it any better than that - it sensed me, and I sensed it. I felt its movements, and it showed me how to move with it, even climbing against the current.

So, slowly, I climbed back up onto my platform, through the waterfall itself, soaked thoroughly, but alive.

The water spirit was disappointed, I think, that I had left it.

For my part, however, I knew that what I had just done was completely impossible without magic - in my world.

But, as I said before, gravity seems to be entirely arbitrary here. With nothing more than the screaming terror of the void below me - well.

All I knew then was that I did not want to fall into that gaping abyss. I knew, without knowing how, that it was death.

I sometimes wish for that early innocence.

The things I know now ....

Tranquil Air - 3

I couldn't stay here, of course.

My thoughts turned to that first rock I'd discovered, and I decided to search for more.

It seemed like almost every time I searched through the dirt, I found another pebble, and before long I had enough rocks to make a block of stone as large as the dirt it had come from. Disconcertingly, the dirt cube was in no way diminished.

A plan came to mind, then. I held the stones together, and they fused into a block,just as I suspected they might. I ever-so-carefully held the block against the side of my dirt 'island' for a moment, two. I released my hold - and the stone stuck there.

Now I knew what I could do.

If I was stuck here, I could at least make it more comfortable for myself - I could expand the island by quite a bit in this fashion.

I looked once more off the side of my domain. There were thick roots jutting out of the bottom, and I was certain I could do something with those if I could only reach them.

Steeling myself, I reached for the magic that would make me lighter than air, out of reflex, and I jumped.

Only the magic wasn't there.

Tranquil Air - 2

I despaired.

For a while, I didn't know what to do.

I sat on the edge of my little self-imposed limbo, my feet dangling off into the void, and contemplated how very peaceful things were. No one could reach me here.

I'm confident, to this day, that it was my own power that brought me to this place. Of course I had made enemies. But no one, in the entirety of my world, had the power to do - this.

Except me.

Gravity is an arbitrary force here. I was pinned to the ground, my normal means of flight lost to me. However - the ground itself was a few yards of dirt floating in a void.

Idly, I combed my fingers through the grass. To my surprise, I found a rock. I dug a bit deeper, ripping away the foliage, and an entire cube of dirt pulled loose from the ground.

A cube, not a pile.

That was my first discovery. Whatever this world was, it was not the same as my own.

It seemed that this world was - compressed, somehow. Things were condensed down to their basic essences, such that I held a chunk of dirt, now no larger than my hand. I focused, and the dirt became even smaller, enough that it could fit in a pocket, with room for more. Setting the dirt down, I focused again, and it grew back to its original size - but no larger.

I broke the dirt once more - and this time, a large creature appeared in its place. Startled, I shoved the thing away, and it fell off into the void.

So, now my island was one "block" smaller.

Thus ended my first day. I watched the sun set beyond some distant horizon, and without really meaning to, I slept.

For the first time in years, I fell into true sleep, instead of some meditative trance. Perhaps I should have worried more about falling off into the void, but I was tired, and the sound of running water soothed me.

When I woke, I realized that such a sound could only mean one thing: I had water.

I looked down to confirm this. Flowing out of the side of my island was a seemingly inexhaustible waterfall. I dug into the island, always wary that another -creature - would appear, and found the source.

Like everything else in this world, it felt somewhat - blocky. But although it was refreshing to drink from, I couldn't scoop more than a double handful out at a time, and at the core of this source block, I could sense some kind of raw life. I'd need something that could capture the essence of this 'creature' to really have any effect here.

Part of me wanted - for science alone - to put a block of dirt into the water, to see if the dirt could obliterate that core when it returned to full size.

The rational side of me reasoned that I'd need this water to survive, and so I didn't try that.

Instead, I drank my fill, and turned my attention to what I could do here.

Tranquil Air - 1

I wished for peace ...

... and I got it.

What had I done?

--

Hello.

My name - you know, I can't remember anymore. It's been so long.

As I sit down to write this, I am reminded how much has changed.

And so I begin, naturally, at the beginning.

Once upon a time, I was the most powerful archmage my world had ever known. My power was without equal among mortals, perhaps even peerless among the gods. I didn't believe in deities. If they existed, they did nothing to influence our world, or such was my reasoning.

Perhaps it is my hubris that brought me so very low.

Regardless, my power was in high demand. I ended wars almost before they began, having no true loyalties outside myself. Any who could meet my price would earn my services for as long as they could pay. I used their enemies as fodder to hone my skills, demanding from myself nothing less than perfection.

The earth trembled, and the waters parted before me. Anything I could conceive of became reality.

Such power comes at a price, of course.

I wore myself thin. I had made no few enemies among men, though I rarely concerned myself with others. No, it was my pursuit of power that drove me. There was always another secret, always some new research, another technique. I began to sleep not at all, and I barely ate. What little I did consume was bland and tasteless. In my endless pursuit of perfection, ironically, I lost myself.

There is - or was - a saying. Be careful what you wish for.

On one fateful autumn day, I wished for peace. With all my heart - I wanted nothing more than a single moment of tranquility amidst all the chaos.

I remember I had been surrounded by sycophants, people who were supposed to serve me. They all had their own goals, their own desires, and none of them truly cared for me, except as a means to an end. Their chatter threatened to drive me mad.

"Silence!" I demanded.

The world went silent. Everyone stopped - all movement ceased. The world went gray - then black.

I found myself lying in the grass, staring up at a blue sky. I watched the clouds roll by, and I thought to myself how peaceful it was. Where had - everything - gone?

Standing up, I caught the first glimpse of my new reality.

I stood on the only land for as far as the eye could see. The patch of grass I stood on was perfectly square, and the edge dropped off into the void. Below was only darkness.

In a way, that was my first glimpse of the enemy.

I skittered back from the edge, curling in on myself.

What had I done?

50 Word Thoughts - II

Artistic:

She let the magic flow through her. It was almost pretty, the way the colors swirled together. She found the process soothing. It gave her mind a rest. The magic mixed with the metal in a beautiful pattern of light. It was always good to profit off of enjoyable talent.

Tired:

The girl called Chirp rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake up. The magic that enhanced her mind would only last a little longer. She wanted to cram just a bit more learning in before then. She just could not keep her eyes open for even a single moment more.

Haunted:

So much time had passed. The house was repaired, and ready for sale, but the word was that it had become haunted. Stormwind's forces were busy elsewhere. No one could be spared for the exorcism. The house stood empty and unwatched. She entered, quiet, in search of her beloved dead.

Purse:

She was pleased with herself, to know she was still as good as she was once. The mark was fat and easy, the coin heavy in her hand. He would barely miss the fat purse. For her, it was less about money. She had legitimate pursuits. This was just fun.

Water:

Bored. The trip took several days, and all she could see for miles in all directions was dull, boring water. At least it was not quite as scary as it used to be. That is, so long as she did not fall in. She could still, too easily, imagine drowning.

Walter:

The man was named Walter. He was a rich merchant who liked to mix business with pleasure. He was also dead. The two facts were very much related. He had tried to get just a bit too friendly, and she simply could not allow him to compromise her current disguise.

Potato:

She had never in her life experienced such a variety of flavors, of textures. The word for this one was "potato." She found that it was sometimes hard, but she liked it best when it was hot and soft and covered in "butter." This food was served with dead meat.

A Stranger in Skyrim 22

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Housecarl

In which Lydia is introduced.

The servant began to lead her toward the armory, as instructed by the Jarl. After a moment's hesitation, though, she reached out to grab the man's arm. "I know he expects me to pick out some armor but - that's not going to do me much good. Do you suppose I could select my rewards from the library instead?" 

"Of course, my Thane." The servant bowed slightly, changing direction. 

In the end, she made off with four dog-eared books, all spell tomes that Farengar helped her to pick out. Well - all except one. The thin black book she selected for herself, no one had seen her slip into her pocket. Flipping through it briefly had been enough to catch her interest, and damn it, she'd earned every bit of the reward she picked out. 

As she made to leave Dragonsreach, arms straining a little under the heavy tomes she'd selected, a black-haired woman in full plate approached her. "Can I help you?" Mariah asked, shifting the weight of the books in her arms. 

"Ah, my Thane. I am Lydia, and I am to be your housecarl." She bowed, formally. 

A pause as she processed that. "So - you're some kind of bodyguard, then?" 

"I - suppose you could put it like that. As you are my Thane, I am sworn to protect you, and all you own, with my life." The woman regarded her uncertainly. 

She nodded. "Could you help with these?" She offered Lydia the stack of books, intending for the stronger woman to take only a couple of them. 

"I am also sworn to carry your burdens … " The woman looked resigned as she took the stack. 

Mariah smiled. "Thanks. So - what all am I supposed to do as a Thane, if I may?" 

"To be a Thane is - it's an honor to be named such. There aren't really many duties or responsibilities; you've been recognized for the service that you've already given Whiterun. You're an important person here, a hero. Guards will even look the other way, if you tell them who you are." 

She ducked her head, embarrassed, as she headed for the door. "I don't think that'll be a problem, you know?" She really wasn't a career criminal - why did everyone assume she was? 

"Of course, my Thane." Mariah held the door open for Lydia. "What are we doing today?" 

"Well - I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous for a day or two; doctor's orders." She headed down the steps and across the waterway. There was a man there, standing in front of a shrine. He was shouting about Talos - wasn't that one of the Divines? 

Curious, she listened in. Maybe she'd learn something. 

"Aye, love, love!" The man shouted. "Even as man, great Talos cherished us. For he saw in us, in each of us, the future of Skyrim! The future of Tamriel!" He paused for a moment, for breath, taking a swig out of a flask that - she could only assume - contained some kind of alcohol. Drinking on the job, pfeh. "And there it is, friends! The ugly truth! We are the children of man! Talos is the true god of man! Ascended from flesh, to rule the realm of spirit!" 

He shook his head, angry. "The very idea is inconceivable to our Elven overlords! Sharing the heavens with us? With man? Ha! They can barely tolerate our presence on earth!" He spat on the ground, an indication of his disgust.  

"Today, they take away your faith. But what of tomorrow? Do the elves take your homes? Your businesses? Your children? Your very lives? And what does the Empire do? Nothing! Nay, worse than nothing! The Imperial machine enforces the will of the Thalmor! Against its own people!" 

It was food for thought, and she stood, listening to the entire lecture. She wasn't the only one. He was urging the Stormcloak rebels on, recruiting for them, it seemed. She had little interest in religion, but she didn't think it right, that this Empire was oppressing a people for a difference of opinion such as that. She'd read all about that kind of thing on Earth. She'd have to watch her step - it wasn't her war, but it was stupid to ignore the political climate. 

"Is this war as bad as it sounds?" She asked Lydia as they walked away. 

The woman looked at her, thoughtful, as she nodded once. "It's torn families apart. Old allies have turned to hated enemies over this - it's not quite open warfare yet, but everyone knows it's building up to it. And when it does …." Lydia shook her head. 

"Everyone will suffer. Not just these Stormcloaks, not just the Empire, but the average person, too. I want no part in that. War just isn't worth the cost." 

"Truly, there is nothing you value so much you would fight for it?" A raised eyebrow. 

Mariah shook her head. "It's not like that. I just - I think people should try to get along, despite their differences. Life is too precious to throw away like that." 

Lydia laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. "Things must be different, where you come from." 

"They really aren't." She sighed softly. "They really aren't." 

--- 

Mariah sat down on one of the benches near the temple of Kynareth. "Set those down - " She gestured for Lydia to set the books next to her. "I won't get any better if I don't study," she explained, taking the first heavy tome. Conjuration basics - Summoning for Dummies, it might as well have been titled. 

"You're a wizard, then?" Lydia asked it dubiously. 

She laughed. "Well, I'm trying to be. It's pretty much endless studying, as far as I can tell. But - I can do this," she summoned lightning to her fingertips, dancing the sparks across the back of her hand. "So it's worth it, in the end." 

Lydia watched with some interest. "We don't have a lot of wizards here in Whiterun - Farengar, of course, and there's a drunkard who frequents the Bannered Mare, too." 

"Well, I gather I have some talent for it." She shrugged her backpack off, settling it on the ground between her feet. 

"Mariah!" A small voice called, and a little body flung itself at her. She laughed, nearly toppling over as Lucia practically tackled her. "You're okay!" 

She smiled, hugging the child gently. "I am, thanks to you." 

"Oh?" The little girl looked up at her, wide-eyed. 

She nodded. "From what I can tell, Irileth found your potion in my things. It's what kept me together until they could get me to the healer." She squeezed the girl gently. "So I guess I owe you, huh?" 

"I guess so." 

She looked up and over at the housecarl. "Lydia, meet Lucia. You said you were supposed to guard me and everything of mine, right?" 

"Well … yes …." 

She nodded. "I want you to look after Lucia, at least while we're in town, all right? It's not much," she said the last to the girl, "But it's something I can do for you anyway." 

"Of course, my Thane." 

She leaned back on the bench. "Gods, but I'm tired." She yawned to emphasize her point. "But you don't get better at anything without practice." She nudged Lucia gently, to get her to let go. Then, she cracked the book open. 

"You can read?" The little girl asked. 

Lydia made a shushing noise. "That's rude … " 

"No, it's all right. I can read - do you want me to read to you? It's actually really interesting to learn from all these books." 

"You think so?" Lucia smiled brightly, leaning forward to peek at the pages. "I'd like to learn," she said wistfully. 

"Well - why don't we learn together?" She smiled brightly, flipping to the first page. "'This book is the first in a series dedicated to the study of conjuration ….'"

A Stranger in Skyrim 21

Chapter Twenty-One: Back to Business

In which magic cures all ills.

A tumble of nonsensical words rolled through her mind, the loudest voices actually Shouting at her.

“Dovahkiin!” they seemed to say.

She groaned, opening eyes that refused to focus properly.

She tasted copper in her mouth. Reaching up to feel her face, her hand came away wet. She looked around to try and figure out where she'd ended up, but it was impossibly dark.

She started to panic.

Although she had excellent night vision, it did her no good if there wasn't any light. Trying to keep calm, she felt around her. She was in a tight space. Wall, door – there, cold porcelain. She identified it immediately as the bathroom. She was sitting on the floor next to the toilet, which explained the tight confines; her bathroom was ridiculously tiny. Feeling up the wall, she found the light switch and flipped it on.

Relief flooded her, even though her eyes complained at the sudden light and she had to close them.

Now all she had to do was clean up all the blood.

She deliberately did not think about exactly what would cause that kind of a reaction, because she had her suspicions and they were wrong.

She picked herself up, unlocked the door, and, taking a deep breath to prepare herself, opened it.

There was nothing there.

She laughed a bit at herself. She was being silly. Why would there be anything inside her house?

She walked to her bedroom, took her night meds, and crawled into bed. Nothing popped out at her, nothing was there but her own foolish imagination.

For the first time in months, she left the bedside lamp on when she went to sleep.

She was roused out of a vague nightmare by another: everything was pain. She felt her bones grinding against each other as they set themselves, and she cried out in agony as the nerves protested their treatment.

A woman stood above her, her hands glowing with white light. She wore brown robes with a yellow hood, and she spoke soft, soothing, nonsense words.

The pain slowly subsided as everything sank into its proper place. Mariah sagged with relief.

“You're awake then? Good. I was afraid … generally it's a bad idea to let someone with a cracked skull sleep, but nothing could rouse you.” The woman smiled. “You've had a lot of visitors. Mostly well-wishers, some of the guards who were with you when you killed that dragon. The Jarl himself even came down from Dragonsreach. You're a popular lady.”

She sat up slowly, with a groan. “What time is it … ?”

“Morning. You're hungry?”

Mariah nodded slowly.

“We'll get you something to eat.” Another smile. “Now, and this is important: don't do anything too strenuous for the next couple of days. I had to heal a lot of damage, and you're still on the mend.”

She rubbed the back of her head. “Define 'strenuous,' please.” She doubted she'd get a real chance to rest, after all. What had even happened to her possessions?

“No fighting. Period. No heavy lifting, no long journeys, no running, or jumping, or … whatever it is you hero types do, don't do it. Understand me, if you strain yourself too much, you won't heal properly. You're fragile right now.”

She nodded. “Understood. Can I at least make the trip up to Dragonsreach? If the Jarl came to see me, I'm sure it's important.”

“If you think you're up to it, I suppose. Just be careful. I don't want to see you back here because you broke something again.”

A smile. “I'll do my best. Now … what was this about food?”

She ate a hearty meal of meat, bread, and cheese, put together in a configuration she chose to call a “sandwich.” It was a medieval time period, so she was fairly sure she got to “invent” certain modern ideas like that.

“Thank you again. Do I owe you anything?”

The woman shook her head. “Your expenses were covered by the Jarl. He said that it was the least he could do for a dragonslayer.”

“I – see. Well, thank you anyway. I didn't expect to survive that fall.”

Another shake of the head. “You wouldn't have, except that Irileth managed to get an extremely powerful healing potion into you, and quickly.” The woman smiled. “I just finished the job. If you thank anyone today, it should be the housecarl.”

“I will, but you have my thanks anyway. Where are my things, please?”

The woman produced all of her gear, even the pieces Mariah hadn't noticed were missing. She had to get used to the idea of carrying a weapon with her everywhere.

She arranged her things in their normal places. Everything felt heavier than it had been before, but then, she was still worn out from the healing. If she'd been as battered as she still felt, it was a miracle she was up and walking. She remembered the first day after her surgery, and her inability to move.

Magic beat modern medicine, apparently.

Who knew?

The trip up to Dragonsreach, though exhausting, was largely uneventful. She sagged against the great doors of the place before she finally pushed them open.

Spying the Jarl, she noticed he had other people with him.

“Good,” the fancy-robed man said. “You're finally here. The Jarl's been waiting for you.”

The Jarl had another visitor, a man in leather armor that looked like it had been ripped off some ancient barbarian hero … wait, he probably was an ancient barbarian hero. He was big, muscular, and looked kind of mean.

“You heard the summons,” the Jarl was saying as she approached his throne. “What else could it mean? The Graybeards ….”

The barbarian shrugged slightly, turning to look at her. “We were just talking about you. My brother needs a word with you.”

“Aye-aye.” She said it tiredly, with a faint smile.

The Jarl regarded her calmly. “My guards have given their reports, but I'd like to hear your tale, please. Leave nothing out. Any details you remember might be important, if we should have to face another.”

She looked up at the ceiling, for a moment, folding her hands behind her back. “Yessir. The watchtower was destroyed; there was rubble everywhere, and everything was burning. Only one guard had survived the dragon's attack, and he was telling us to get away. The dragon swooped down – Irileth did most of the fighting.” She ducked her head, embarrassed. “I mostly just shot lightning at it.”

“I knew I could count on Irileth. But my guards tell me that you had your moment, no?”

She shook her head. “I grabbed the dragon, when it was about to take off, and nearly got killed for my efforts, sir. I guess I dealt the killing blow, but really, I would have died on my own.”

He nodded. “And then?”

“The dragon – when it was dying, it … melted. I remember that. And then … there was a white light, coming from its corpse. I think – I think it was coming for me. I blacked out … I don't remember, I'm sorry.”

The Jarl closed his eyes, processing that. “So it's true – the Greybeards really were summoning you.”

“The … Greybeards, sir?”

He nodded once. “Masters of the Way of the Voice. They live in seclusion high on the slopes of the Throat of the World.” Oh goodie. She was going to get to go mountain climbing.

“What … I'm sorry, what would they want with me?”

The Jarl regarded her oddly. “That light you saw … it was most likely the dragon's very soul. You absorbed it into your body … I'd wager that power is part of why you didn't die from your injuries. If that's true – if you are Dragonborn, then you should be able to Shout, like the dragons do. The Greybeards could teach you to use your gift, if you let them.”

“Didn't you hear that thundering sound as you returned to Whiterun?” The Jarl's brother asked. “That was the voice of the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar!”

She shook her head. “I don't think I was conscious for that.”

But she remembered. Dovahkiin, they'd called her, in her dream. Dragonborn.

“This hasn't happened in … centuries, at least. Not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned while he was still Talos of Atmora!” Talos … one of the Divines?

The fancy-pants man folded his arms. “Hrongar, calm yourself. What does any of this Nord nonsense have to do with our friend here?” He gestured to her. “Capable as she may be, I don't see any signs of her being this, what, 'Dragonborn.'”

“Nord nonsense?! Why you puffed up, ignorant …” He sputtered for a moment. “These are our sacred traditions that go back to the founding of the first Empire!”

“Hrongar,” The Jarl smiled, humor in his voice. “Don't be so hard on Avenicci.”

Fancy-pants – Avenicci – shook his head. “I meant no disrespect, of course. It's just that … what do these Greybeards want with her?”

She'd like to know that, herself.

“That's the Greybeards' business, not ours.” He looked away from his brother and his advisor, staring straight at her. “Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you are Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There is no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor.”

She shifted a little, uncertainly. “There might be a slight problem with the 'immediate' part of that. I'm not to do anything strenuous for the next few days ….”

He waved his hand, dismissively. “I envy you, you know. To climb the seven thousand steps again... I made the pilgrimage once, did you know that? It's a difficult journey … perhaps you should wait until you're well.”

“What can you tell me about this 'High Hrothgar?'”

He looked distant for a moment. “High Hrothgar is a very … peaceful place. Very disconnected from the troubles of this world. I wonder that the Greybeards even notice what's going on down here. They haven't seemed to care before.” He shook his head. “No matter. Go High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you.”

A slight pause, as one of the servants came up with a few items.

“You've done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn,” Jarl Balgruuf announced. “By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as your personal housecarl, and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office.” He smiled. “I'll also notify my guards of your new status. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn.”

“My – my lord, I can't – ”

He took the axe from his own belt, holding it out to her with both hands. “You can, and you will. My servant will lead you to the armory to choose a small selection of items for your past deeds, as well.”

She shook her head, but obediently followed the servant when he beckoned. As she was walking away, she heard the Jarl speak again.

“Back to business, Proventus. We still have a city to defend.”