Walkabout
The next day, I woke up at the first light and went outside to wash my face.
After a hearty breakfast with the family I turned to Alvor. "How can I get to Winterhold the fastest?"
"A prospect mage, eh?" He said with a little bit of unconcealed distaste. "Well, it is not my place to say anything. The fastest would be going to Whiterun and hopefully finding a carriage. Finding a carriage depends on the harshness of the coming winter. Roads going to Winterhold tends to be quite dangerous in the winter you see."
"Thank you, in that case I better hurry. I would appreciate it if you could help me with the supplies. Of course I'm not asking you for free." I said and took out a few potions and weapons from my storage.
The now familiar golden ripple appeared once more and the items dropped on the ground.
"Shor's testicles, what was that, boy?" Alvor jumped from his seat upon seeing me take out items from out of nowhere.
"Magic." I said simply since I didn't have any other explanation either.
Then he went on to examine the items. I couldn't set a price since I didn't know the market here, but I trusted the old man not to cheat me.
"Hmm, yes. I could give you 300 septims for these."
"Deal."
He proceeded to take out the 'septims' and I stashed them in my storage in case of any thievery. Then I turned towards the family and expressed my gratitude for letting me stay the night.
"Think nothing of it, boy. If you come to Riverwood in the future, know that you have a place to stay here. Be careful on your journey and stick to the main roads. Unseen places of Skyrim are filled with dangers." He warned me once more for the journey and with that I left Riverwood.
It wasn't until the third day of my travel did I meet a strange man.
I was camping in the woods near the main roads, sitting with my back towards a tree, I was practicing my magic.
"The torturer could do it so why can't I?" I was trying to create a ball of fire, but I still couldn't.
That is when he came.
"You are going on wrong about it young man."
He had long, white beard and hair with black eyes. He wore a long indigo robe trimmed with gold, a tall pointed hat with the same colors. He also had an intricately carved staff in his had.
"Mind if I sit?" He asked.
"Go ahead."
His face looked old but had a youthful vigor to it.
He sat right across me, tossed a few dead wood right between us and with a flick of his hand, lit them on fire.
"You see, you are trying to create a fire bolt, no? Then you need to ask for a well behaved fire before weaving it on Mundus. But what you are doing is asking for an unruly flame, then ordering it to behave."
"Ask for a well behaved fire?" I asked aloud then looked into my palms.
Before I always created the flames, then tried to shape them into a ball. Now, I imagined a ball of fire before creating it.
A dragon roared and the feeling I became familiar with washed upon me once again.
Then, there it was. A small ball of fire flickering in my palm. I hurled it forwards and it didn't change shape like before. As a ball it went and hit a tree before vanishing.
I felt happy for finally being able to do it. Then, turned towards the old man who had a small smile on his lips.
"After all these years, it never gets old to see someone becoming happy after unraveling the mysteries of magic."
"Thank you for your help, I'm Alaric. Mind if I asked for your name?"
"The name is Gyron, though most call me The Sage nowadays."
"Then, Master Gyron, mind if I asked for your teaching once more?"
"Well, it must be fate meeting a fellow weaver at this night. Ask me what you wish, I will try to answer however I can."
"Then, how did you made that fire stay in place? How did it not vanish?" I asked while pointing towards the bonfire.
"Oh, dear me. This will take a while. You have never been educated in the arcane arts before I presume?" He asked.
"Indeed. First time I used magic was… I can't give you the exact time but approximately two weeks ago I guess."
"Hmmhmm I see. Then, we shall start from the beginning. Do you know the energy we use for the spells?"
"Magicka, isn't it?"
"Indeed. In Ayleid tongue, magicka simply means magic. It is the general term used for the focusing of raw energy into various properties and for various purposes." He said and waited for me to nod my head in understanding. Then, he continued, "Magicka flows through Aetherius into Mundus from the holes where Magnus and other Et'Ada left the mortal plain, which is the sun and the stars, and from it the Mundus was created. This is why the stars under which a person is born have such a great influence on that person's fortunes and fate, and why many materials which fall from the heavens have great magical properties." And he stopped once more and waited for me.
After I ingested the information, I nodded and he continued. "There are numerous ways the use of magic can manifest. The most obvious is the practice of casting spells, but one can also brew potions to apply an effect, among other things. There are a few ways in which a spell is different from a synthesis, including the ways in which their failure manifests. A badly put-together spell likely won't work at all, but alchemy gone wrong can be poison." He said while putting on a magical show with the motions of his fingers.
"The act of drawing on one's own magicka reserves in order to generate some kind of effect in the physical world is called 'casting a spell'. No two mages weave their spells in exactly the same way. Like painting or sculpting, each artist has their own distinctive style. Tell me, how do you weave your spells?" He asked.
"Uhh before casting a spell I hear a dragon roar and a feeling washes upon my body." I said.
"Hmmhmm a dragon roar you say hmm? The first dragon after centuries was sighted just a week ago but you said you first cast a spell two weeks ago, if so how did you know how a dragon roars then hmm? But well, it is a question for another time." He said and continued while getting up.
"I should get going. I came to see the last one born a dragon and I must admit I was not disappointed." He got up and placed his hat on his head.
I hurriedly got up, "Ah Master Gyron, can you tell me how I can find you in the future if it's not a trouble? I wish to unravel more of the arcane arts along with my blade."
He looked at me from top to bottom, "Indeed, you are as gifted with the sword as you are with the arcane. If you want to find me you can find my abode in High Rock…or if you want me to find you, take this." He gave me a ring.
"Whenever you sit in front of a bonfire, I will know. Then we can continue our studies. Farewell, Alaric the Unraveler." Then he gave a final smile and vanished in indigo particles of light.
Then, I took a closer look at the parting gift he gave me.
It was simple silver ring. But it radiated a magical aura. Other than that I couldn't understand anything else. Without much thought I wore it on my finger.
Then I got up and continued with my usual sword practice for a few more hours.
In my travels, I noticed that I didn't need much sleep. I could function perfectly fine for a few days without one but fatigue slowly built up.
Then I found out I could spend the time meditating instead of sleeping.
It was the equivalent of sleeping but I felt better in the mornings after meditating and I was always alert for any attacks in the night. So, I always opted for meditating in the night.
That way I could ponder about the sword forms stuck in my head.
[Bellguard down, over, hold. The Bone Shaver.]
[Strike at 80 grams, any degree but this one. The Ephemeral Feint.]
But no matter I do, I couldn't exactly figure out what they were except for The Vecroting Cygnet, which was Total Concentration in my understanding.
[Breathe in and then forget the breath; you cannot replace it until he is down, to fight as if dead: second principle of pneumansu. The Vectoring Cygnet, Total Concentration.]
But even then, I felt there was more.
There was more I could understand from Total Concentration.
There was a step above. But I didn't understand it yet.
So, I left it to future. Maybe then I could understand it.