Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 7: Chapter VII: The Companions, Magic, and Third Eyes *Edited*



(Reyvin's POV)

After a long bit of story time where Durrak almost fell asleep three entire times we went to bed, the innkeeper yelled my ears off about fire magic inside the establishment but said that she wouldn't be charging extra due to our recent bandit slaying.

Nords really are all about reputation, once you prove yourself even a bit suddenly you aren't the dark elf but that guy who did that one thing or another.

Considering that many of my memories of my previous lifetime have partly faded and that the young Reyvin has slowly replaced the old man, the feeling of being honestly respected for your work is very refreshing when compared to the nest of vipers that was the imperial city. Morrigan decided to go to the alchemy shop and get some work done there while Durrak and I went to the Companions hoping we could get a fighting lesson or two.

As we approach the overturned-ship turned drinking hall we hear a great bit of noise and shouting from the inside, while the smell of alcohol almost knocks me out on contact the orc next to me merely sniffs and opens the door.

As soon as we enter everyone turns quiet, the companions turn to us some in curiosity some trying to be intimidating, but jokes on you I am an old fart no amount of glaring will make me flinch.

Durrak on the other hand speaks loudly "What are all you looking at? me and my friend came here to get some practice in, any of you sober enough for it or should I get you all some milk!?"

Seeing as the orc doesn't even give a shit about the atmosphere most of them break into laughter, the bluntness of his request seems to fit the place perfectly, fucking Nords I swear to Dagoth.

Soon we are approached by the infamous twins of companions and are led outside.

Durrak goes to spar with Farkas, while I get his brother, and while the both of us put up a valiant effort we get our shit kicked in, repeatedly, for four entire hours.

Although to be fair it is not all bad, flaws are pointed out, wasted movements corrected and a beginning of a style is formed. My orc friend naturally seems not to mind this one bit, in fact the madman seems to enjoy it!

After our requested ass-whooping we pay for everyone's drinks as they didn't even ask us for a fee for the training and sit for them for a bit sharing stories, we are questioned about our recent victory and Durrak starts boisterously retelling our fight. Most of the companions are Nords so they don't react too positively when magic is mentioned but it is balanced out by us being vastly outnumbered so they do give me some grumbling respect in the end.

When it comes to the slaying of the bandit's leader I am pleasantly surprised when they all approve of the way he died, apparently he was quite the coward even if a skilled one and many people were robbed and killed by his dishonest ways, at least in the words of the Companions. There seem to be a couple of elves in the group but they don't seem to hold too high a position which is honestly to be expected. The elven part of my mind seems to always focus on such thoughts, and in truth it would have likely formed a large part of my personality if I didn't have an entire lifetime of experience to filter them out.

After the retelling Durrak decides to stay and continue fighting with anyone who wants to challenge him while I head out back to the tavern to find a quiet corner and study a bit.

I decided to stop learning the bound weapon for the moment as after seeing what my firebolts do to people I need a ward as soon as I can get one, so the goal for today is to learn how to make them and make them quickly.

It takes me a good six hours of continuous trying and failing until I remember that I have a god damn bloodline power that is basically made for magic. Following my instincts I activate my third eye and am surprised by the vibrant colors that now surround me, everything is covered in at least a thin layer of blue but I see that some objects have a denser aura, and it seems that they are generally ones of more value... Is the value of an object that which makes it channel magic better or the magic that makes it valuable? In any case now I understand why the flames spell was simply ignored by the bandit boss.

Focusing back on the ward and following the instructions now with an extra visual aid, I manage the spell relatively quickly, it is a very simple one as it forms a layer of Magicka in front of me, though it is very static and can block only a spell or two.

Wanting to experiment a bit I try and make the shield vibrate from the center outwards but it quickly shatters, maybe my Magicka is not dense enough or the spell formula is just too basic? Something to explore when we arrive at my final destination.

I spend the rest of the day attempting to refine my fire magic, considering that I have a talent for it and a relatively good grasp on both spells already, I try making the firebolt spin and concentrate into a denser form, make the flames hotter and more focused and all other sorts of combinations, by the time my companions return my notifications look something like this:

[Str: 7 => 7.1]

[Dex: 9 => 9.4]

[Vit: 7.2 => 7.5]

[Mag: 127 => 130]

[Restoration-Apprentice: Heal(self) Heal (other) Lesser ward]

[Destruction-Apprentice: Searing flames, Firebolt]

[Swordfighting-Novice]

Yep, my flames spell seems like it has become more potent, but also more costly, I can use the downgraded version when I am low anyway, my physical stats seem to be going up steadily, its a good thing I get enough food every day or I would be perpetually tired, I also seem to be slowly filling up and becoming less of a walking twig, but the change is miniscule for now.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Anyways my companions arrive from their adventures for the day and Durrak informs us that he has decided to join the companions and as his first quest he will take us to Winterhold, when I jokingly asked does he want to get paid now he looked almost offended and simply shook his head.

Morrigan sits next to me and whispers "I have followed that elf woman from yesterday for a bit, it really does seem like she is just packing up" I nod and whisper a thanks while she continues on "I have managed to get the restoration spells you showed me down, can I get the alchemy book now?"

Ah yes I did promise I would give it to her, apparently learning healing spells was not cool enough for her or something equally childish so I had to motivate her somehow and the alchemy book seemed to interest her, well not like I need it at the moment I am focusing on

far too many things.

The three of us chat for a bit before turning in for the night, tomorrow we are leaving Whiterun and heading to Windhelm, 'I just cannot wait! Snowy racism land here I come!' I think with false cheer before I fall asleep.

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com