114 Chapter LV: The Flight of Time

After I managed to calm down the now incredibly excited demi-god we made our way back to the portal in my house.

I made sure to grab a bunch of lower level tomes from my personal library for my students and also visited the college to buy copies of a couple higher level destruction magic tomes for my own studies.

We would likely be facing small armies soon and having some larger scale spells than a mere fireball in my pocket would definitely come in handy.

Hmmm, now that I think about it I should also learn some less destructive combat magic so I can preserve corpses for my shadowbinding, maybe that strangling spell isn't such a waste after all...

After we teleported back to Solitude I made sure Minthara wasn't knocked out again and led her to her room, she seemed content to rest for now but I sensed a threat in her tone when she asked that I don't dare be late in teaching her about the voice.

My wicked grin and jovial promise of my most thorough tutorship quickly made her realize just how much she fucked up with that request.

I left her to contemplate her fate and got back to my usual work.

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Things turned into the usual blur that inevitably followed my falling into routine behavior after that fateful day.

I started most of my days by chatting with Sybille while having a morning drink, She was slowly growing less reserved with me as we continued with our fling. She was unfortunately still dancing around the question but I have started noticing her dropping the usual flighty tone she used on instinct to keep people at arm's length from time to time.

The fact she was finally relaxing her guard around me made me surprisingly happy, She was fun in her usual state, but when she would relax she tended to show a more goofy and nerdy side that most mages hide to the best of their abilities, and when such a thing would happen she would become inordinately bashful and a prime target to my teasing.

I really was starting to enjoy her presence more and more.

After that would come the court sessions, listening to people bicker got so boring that Sybille and I turned it into a guessing game while mocking the now three Thane-led factions that kept vying for power and influence.

Surprising absolutely no one, the moment that Helm joined the fray Erikur and Bryling acted in almost perfect concert to keep him sidelined and unimportant.

Their little scheme was becoming more and more obvious to everyone at this point, but no one really cared to point it out as long as they did their job. Naturally, I had a very long and pointed talk with the both of them about crossing certain lines, and seeing as they both saw what I was capable of they wisely chose to keep a lid on it.

What no one did expect was Helm turning himself into a popular figurehead mere days after his appointment. How he managed to gather so much support from common people he most likely oppressed previously I have no idea, but he would prove a good counter-balance to the already established power and some of his proposals were actually rather good for the common populace so I chose not to interfere with his work.

Well, I say not interfere... I still threatened him about the consequences of abusing his position... you know, the usual Nordic politics.

Torygg was growing more practiced in his role of leadership, and my constant jibes and hints allowed him to keep a level head when making most decisions. The cleansing of the slums weighed heavily on him, but instead of crumbling below the pressure the young man steeled himself and dedicated twice as hard to the task of keeping his realm safe and strong.

Unfortunately, we both knew that there was no way to avoid what was coming. All that could be done was merely mitigating the damage of the inevitable shitstorm that awaited the province would do.

And the poor boy didn't even know about the vampire and dragon epidemic that awaited...

Speaking of multiple looming supernatural apocalypses... if I even wanted him to live long enough to suffer through all that I needed to make sure he wouldn't get shouted to a fine paste by Ulfric Tantrumcloak, so I added another project to my ever-expanding list.

The first thing I made sure to check was if enchanted items were even allowed in Nordic duels. The answer was a definitive 'Maybe kinda?' One could use magical items in honorable combat only if they were inherited or gifted to them by family or a close one.

How extremely devious of the ancient Nords! I almost burst into laughter upon reading through that one tidbit of the royal tome on ancient traditions, they made sure that no peasant could reasonably challenge the Jarls and everyone respected them for it...

No matter, it would only require some additional maneuvering on my part.

The first step was to actually make the artifact, I spent days brainstorming a counter to the thu'um and came up mostly blank.

A general resist magic effect did technically work, but a shout was on such a scale that nothing short of the robes of some mythical ancient Archmage would do a thing to actually break the shout's power.

I did try hinting at the idea of teaching him about the thu'um a couple of times, but the young man bluntly refused me citing the required time and him being already busy with his duties. Another unfortunate fact was that the Greybeards would not reasonably leave the High King alone if they found out about him learning the thu'um.

After all was said and done I settled on merely brute-forcing the issue, I took an orichalcum bracer and inscribed it with direct counters to specific shouts in dovahzul. Ulfric was still something of a novice when he left the Graybeards and he reasonably wouldn't have learned the more complex forms of shouting so quickly.

So I decided to gamble and inscribed direct counters to the more basic attack shouts, and even then the gods damned bracer was barely functioning with an entire black soul gem!

Three uses and it would break completely.

All that was left was for me to meet with Elisif at some point and make sure she gifts him the damn thing on their wedding day. Something that was growing more and more inevitable with the King's growing reputation and confidence.

When it came to my students, they were both progressing at a satisfactory pace. It was to be expected as even Marco was surprisingly talented, but the fact that I was making possible legends did put a smile on my face.

Marco was slowly but steadily becoming able to cast his spells with enough speed for actual combat use, he was still somewhat whiny, but the constant hard work I subjected him to was slowly turning him into a hard-working yet still playful young mer.

Minthara was another story, she didn't whine, nor did she complain. When I gave her a task she got to it and gave it her all, naturally when combined with her heritage her hard work showed excellent results.

She was already capable of launching wind blades in combat and sustaining a wind ward for a respectable amount of time, and her thu'um was progressing at a good pace as well. She was yet unable to shout even a basic 'FUS' but she could at least speak it along my own signature fire breath.

What really boggled my mind was the weapon she chose in the end. A gods damned warhammer... like I know they are good against armor and bones and all that, but why in the hell would a relative twig like her choose a warhammer!? And why did she look so at ease when using it!? *Sigh* Do not question Akatosh's will my child...

One day both she and Marco came to me and requested I teach them healing magic, a reasonable request of course, but they forgot they were not dealing with a reasonable mer.

I agreed immediately and almost let out a proud tear when my student's gazes turned suspicious at that same instant.

Not being one to disappoint I dropped a comically massive tome on anatomy and another on the arcane script before them and smiled.

Marco looked like I killed his dog and even Minthara's 'work-your-ass-off-every-damned-day' ethic failed her as even she gulped in fear.

Unfortunately for them, they were not getting out of it. If you let the genie out of the bottle you won't be getting it back in as it were.

So I forced the two of them to read through both of the damned things while still keeping up with their usual training, it was painful, boring, and both of them voiced wishes for the sweet release of the void on multiple occasions, but after two grueling months they both managed to get through them.

Their faces when I started asking questions about the content were pure gold...

After I finished with their daily training I would take some time on my own to practice both shouting and spellcraft.

As my first full shout I naturally decided to go for the fire-breath, even if it wasn't the most efficient idea it was literally in my name now, and one must not forsake the vaunted art of presentation so easily!

Naturally, ye olde 'yol tor shul' wasn't the only shout I was attempting to make work, after gaining quite a bit of experience and deepening my bond with the winds and their patron, I finally started down the road of the more mystical shouts, namely the manipulation of time and turning oneself ethereal.

They were very slow-going, but every day I felt ever so slightly closer to learning them so I kept at it with the help of my long-honed determination. The fact that meditating on the words of power was extremely relaxing and soothing had nothing to do with it of course!

When it came to my spellwork I finally got to learning rune-casting, and what an absolute rabbit hole those were! Destruction runes were basically completely modular combat mines that could be overcharged to ridiculous proportions with enough preparations, add to that my expertise with runes... The booms were coming, and they would be beautiful!

Unfortunately, the runes were the only big expansion to my repertoire I managed in such a relatively short time, any big 'army-killers' were still very far off and while my magic was extremely dangerous in personal combat I was nowhere near the level of power where I could just tear through hundreds of people like some over-romanticized Chinese warlord.

Still, I was satisfied with my work, and within the blink of an eye three whole months had passed.

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I slump onto the floor from my crouching position, both my face and arms blackened with oil and a very large, and more importantly, very complete Dwemer automatic ballista platform looming ominously above me, its orichalcum chassis covered to the brim with lightly glowing red runes.

It almost brought a tear to my eye as I looked at the lifeless machine of death and destruction... Is this how the Dwemer felt when they made their own animonculi?

Sadly, I couldn't spend too much time admiring my work. Tomorrow we would be getting reports on the western incursion and I needed to rest up properly if I wanted to actually participate in the morning.

I haven't slept for three days in my frenzy to complete this...

Ah, but what to name my newest creation?

A couple of subdued knocks on my door break me out of my thoughts.

Huh? I wonder what she wants at this hour?

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