Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Magic & Undeath

The supernaturally handsome hybrid standing in front of the mine allows the midday sun’s rays to touch his skin. Internally he notes that the sensation is more uncomfortable than it was prior to his true ascension, and to when the sun was low in the sky, earlier today, but he doesn’t find it painful or anything. It simply feels unnaturally attention-grabbing, like it makes it a bit harder to focus on other things than it should be. He knows precisely why this is the case. 

Ghriza, herself a potent entity of undeath, is fond of undead powers, alt-forms, and undead entities in general. She has seen fit to bless her champion with many of the forms she possesses. From the ether-zombies of the land of the Lords of the Night, to the mighty draugr lords and dragon priests who infest Skyrim’s subterranean crypts, she has been generous in her bestowal of blessings to her champion. 

In doing so she believes she has generously protected her champion. Truthfully, she has unknowingly caused him to change on a deep and fundamental level. 

Many of Cossus’s vampiric alt-forms do suffer from a weakness to the sun. Truthfully most of his vampiric alt-forms possess a fatal weakness to the sun. Thankfully all it takes is one perk addressing that fatal weakness to provide him with fiat-backed immunity to a rather deadly weakness. 

It is his Tamrielic vampire alt-form that provides him with the necessary immunity to the sun. He is a “Vampire Lord”, and a handy strength that comes with that while he no longer burns in the sun. 

As a Jumper he could have had another strategy for dealing with sunlight, simply stay in his human base form when in the sun, but he enjoys the knowledge that even if he shifts fully into one of the kinds of vampires he is he’ll be able to fight as well in the day as he could at night. He is able to enjoy the strange sensations he feels out in the light of the sun, even as a potent undead entity. 

He begins to walk in the general direction of the inn, as he slowly turns inward and begins to do something that he hadn’t done before. On the inside of his mind he begins to flip every single one of his powers “On”. As he does he slowly watches his perception of reality shift and warp as he opens his mind to the true breadth of potent powers he possesses. 

And distantly, Ghriza begins to watch, amusedly, as her champion begins to grow on his own for the very first time. 

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The instant that I begin to slowly open my mind to the true breadth of powers that flow beneath my skin I subtly sense reality itself seem to shift. Somehow everything around me becomes more… malleable, less real almost. 

Distantly I hear soft voices whisper, though their words are crystal-clear, in the back of my mind. I even gain a whole new window into reality to peer through, one that allows me to see how things were in the distant past, or even how they will look in the future, if I focus on them. 

I look at the inn that I popped into mere hours ago and as I do I can see the ground it sat on before it existed. I can see how it looked millennia before it became Windpeak Inn, and with a thought I can see how one day it’ll be set ablaze and reduced to ash before distant trees inevitably grow where it once stood. 

A lone “Stormcloak” guard walks in front of the inn and with a glance at her I can see a vision of her years ago, when she was a little girl. At the same time I can also see her years from now, as a matron of a family of proud followers of the Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak. These visions of the future are hyper-focused, but I can manipulate them quite easily. 

All it takes is for me to peer at something and focus to see both its past and its future. This ability is a very interesting one especially since I can couple it with both “Soulseer” and even a form of magic that is steadily revealing itself to me known as “Auramancy”. 

In the back of my mind many different forms of magic are making themselves known to me. Things from “Blood Magic”, which is the magic of vampires and affiliated with necromancy, to “Water Magic” which allows me to manipulate water, are all depositing spells and basic lore in the back of my mind. None of the spells are extremely advanced, but thanks to the sheer variety of them they don’t have to be. 

It is as I am flipping my powers “On” that I begin to truly realize the unbelievable potential of magic. My enhanced mind and bolstered creativity allow me to take even the tiny morsels of magical knowledge and arcane lore that I am receiving and piece together parts of a larger, far grander, whole. 

As my mind fills with fiat-acquired bits and pieces of trivia I can see how magic might, for example, lead someone to attempt to become immortal or alter an entire battlefield with a single spell. It is easy to see how someone might dream of becoming mighty after having a taste of the power offered by magic. 

Magic is now a power that I now wield… A power that I could, in theory, master. After all, thanks to perks I have advantages other mages couldn’t dream of having!  

At the same time that this is happening, new skills are being birthed deep within me. The most important of the new skills is a generalized one simply, and ambitiously, named “Magic”. Without hesitation, I make that skill my “Hyperspecialization” skill, because I absolutely want to fully master this skill. 

I want to master every spell, from the simplest healing spell to the mightiest acts of mysticism and alteration. For the first time since I first learned of Katniss’s existence, I feel the pleasant feeling of having a goal to work towards! 

Even better than that though is that I know that unlike when it came to dealing with Katniss this goal is wholly my own. It is not a “Mission” given to me by Ghriza, or something like that, just a goal I gave myself after learning about magic. 

There is something strangely pleasant about that, and even about the freedom that I now have to go out and fulfill my own objectives. I am… free. And it feels good to be free.

For the moment though, I still need to focus on establishing myself in this world. I have thirty-five septims to my name, practically no fame, and maybe three friends. If I want to become some master of the arcane I need to ground myself in both reality, and the present, before I can master the eldritch magic I can command. 

I shake my head and free myself from the prison of my own thoughts. With a single action, I free myself to focus on the present and I peer at the inn in front of me. I walk over to it and place a single hand on one of its walls as if to rest on the thing. 

I close my eyes and focus on the magicka coursing through every part of my body. With a single sharpened burst of intent I “mark” the wall, and I feel a small amount of magicka flow out of me. Magicka is the energy expended when spells are cast. This magicka does not follow out of my “normal” sea of magicka, but a strange… “Secondary” pool of magicka that exists deep within my bones, solely for the purpose of being consumed to pay for transportation spells.

I possess several of these odd “Secondary” pools of arcane energy, each of which is intended for specific kinds of magic, which is itself not a natural phenomenon for the wizards of Aurbis. This is another potent perk power. It feels good to know I won’t have to rely on my normal magicka for this kind of magic even if I have seas of magicka to rely on. 

I have a total of 1200 “Universal” magicka, which I can use for any kind of spell. This is the body of magicka I will be using for healing magic, destruction magic, or even illusion magic, among other, lesser-known bodies of magic. 

My internal stores of “Secondary” magicka equal half of this body of mystical might, though I know, intuitively, that these secondary bodies of arcane power will grow in time. This is the magicka I will use, normally, for spells like conjuration, divination, teleportation, time-magic, and for the creation of magical things out of raw magic. If these stores of “Secondary” magicka run out, I can fuel the spells with my other arcane stores, but I hope I won’t need that.

“Cool… Now I can teleport here at any time.” I mentally mutter, having just made use of one of my “Mysticism” perks which allows me to mark places with a small expenditure of magicka and teleport to them by casting a “Recall” spell at any time provided I have sufficient mana. 

The perk that gives me the ability to do that is not unlimited. I can’t go to past settings, and when I “Jump” to a new place all of my old “Marks” will disappear, aside from ones in my warehouse. It is annoying that this won’t let me return to past settings, but instantaneous travel, even when faced with a few limits, is something that should never be underestimated. 

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Perks operate differently from mundane spells. I need to learn actual spells, aside from a number of spells that were inserted into my mind via fiat when I first arrived in Skyrim, but with perks, I can activate them at any time, provided I have whatever fuel I may need to expend to do so. I also possess an innate knowledge of them and their capabilities. 

With “Mark and Recall”, the perk I will use to teleport, I do need to expend a small amount of magicka with each use, but my innate regeneration allows me to recover the lost magicka effortlessly each time. 

I take my hand off of the wall of the inn and smirk at it. I feel as though I am beginning to get somewhere now, little by little. I still don’t have a home, but me turning all of my perks “On” is helpful because it allows me to do things like sense nearby treasure, as well as simply focus to learn where someone who needs help is located. And if I help people my fame increases, and I get small rewards. 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, all while allowing my stranger senses to become the focus of my mind. As I do I feel the effects of a draconic sense flare to life, and alert me to the general directions I’d need to travel to find various people who need help and who are relatively close to me. 

I can feel this eerie, otherworldly sense tugging me in a number of directions, though none of them feel particularly urgent. This suggests that this place is fairly peaceful, which is not a bad thing but it does make it a strange place for me to arrive at given the violence I was inflicting not a day ago. Nevertheless, I decide to follow my instincts and in doing so I quickly find myself in front of a quaint shop near the edge of town.

I quietly open the door, which does make a noise as I move it but only because I allow it to and find myself inside a dark store. The darkness is not an obstacle to me, in fact, it’s nice to get out of the sun, but I know that many mundane people would find it uncomfortable to be in a place like this. 

“Oh hello! Please do come in. Just walk straight and you’ll get out of the thin hallway you’re in.” An older voice, belonging to a Nord woman, calls out to me. I do as she asks, as I am not here to cause trouble and indeed I actually want to help. 

I walk out of the entryway I was in and find myself in a wide room dimly lit by a roaring fire pit and a few scattered lanterns. The woman who called out to me is standing over some tools that I recognize as part of an alchemist’s equipment and she is tending to a potion she is brewing. She looks up and smiles at me.

“Why you must be new in town!” She says, and I chuckle. I nod at her and begin to look around. 

“Oh well in that case welcome to Dawnstar. I am Frida, the oldest resident of this settlement. I take it you came in because you are in need of a good potion or two?” She asks. She has energy and zest in her voice that would suggest she is much younger, but whenever I look at her I gain memories of her past from long ago suggesting she’s lived a storied, exciting life. 

“I heard that you brewed the finest potions for miles.” I tell her, falsely. She laughs at my remarks and sees through them right away. 

“You’re kind, but a liar. I know that no one in town brags about my work. Though you'd think they would since I am the only alchemist in the hold... No… It was my husband who was the real miracle worker with potions. He could brew something that’d fix broken bones! I miss him that old fool.” She says as she tends to her potion. She looks up at me while I examine the room. 

The room is filled with alchemical ingredients. I study them and with just a glance at each, I feel the effects of perks related to luck and alchemy taking a hold of my surroundings. As I glance at each of her ingredients I can visually tell what they’d do if they were added to a potion, and I can affect what they’d do if someone consumed them as they are presented in front of me. 

The woman has everything from a few severed and preserved giant’s toes to masterfully cut nightshades. As I study my surroundings I can feel the love that she put into this place. 

“Are you a traveler, or are you looking to stay for a while?” The woman asks as I eye her assortment of goods. 

“I’m a traveler. I like to roam from place to place.” I tell her, truthfully. For now, I see no reason to stay in one place forever. I have no home and my wandering life has led me many many hundreds of miles from my birthplace. There’s no real point in me trying to head back there unless I wanted to do something like conquering it. There are orc strongholds in Skyrim that are worth visiting, but none of them are close to Dawnstar. 

“I see. What brings you to Dawnstar?” She asks curiously. I fall silent for a moment and think of a plausible excuse for coming to this tiny town. Truthfully Urumar was just exploring Skyrim and ended up here. He made no real friends, and made a “living” mostly by exterminating bandits and wild beasts that beset travelers along the main roads that crisscrossed the province. 

“I wanted to see the Sea of Ghosts. And I didn’t feel like going to the big city, or to the town annihilated by magic.” I tell her, and judging by the way that she nods she can at least somewhat understand my reasoning. 

“The Sea of Ghosts is a fascinating place. I once heard someone say that water holds the memories of Tamriel. That water itself is made of memories. But she… She was a madwoman. Still, I sometimes think about her. About her ranting and raving.” Frida tells me, softly. Her words are strange, including to her, but I can tell that she thinks about that madwoman more often than she would like to confess.

“Speaking of memories… Would you happen to be looking for work?” She asks me, causing me to smile internally. Her way of changing the topic is something I’ll allow since she is about to present to me a way to further my reputation. 

“I’ll never turn down an opportunity to hear about a way to make some money.” I tell her, opportunistically. She smiles and there is something almost admiring in her gaze. I feel that she can respect someone who is honest.

“A long time ago my husband heard of an enchanted ring. The alluring artifact was said to be able to increase one’s alchemical skills and the potency of drafts they brewed. He and I were both already fairly old, but no one could truthfully complain that he was a coward. For the last years of his life, he’d keep an ear to the ground for rumors of the thing.” She tells me, causing me to go ahead and be able to imagine what she was about to ask me. 

“He never found the thing and died of exposure in the wilderness of The Pale. But… I did. Or at least I am fairly sure I did. A few days ago a wandering merchant carrying a ring that matches the description of the ring was robbed by bandits near a place the guards of the hold have taken to calling ‘Silverdrift Lair’. When he entered the store looking for a potion to disinfect the wounds he had gotten running away from them he told me all about it.” She explains, causing me to chuckle. 

“‘Silverdrift Lair’? I can swing by there, just do me a favor and,” I tell her as I pull out a map I possess, one of my few personal possessions, and put it on the desk in front of me. She comes over and studies it. “Just mark it on here for me, would you?” I ask her. 

She grabs a quill and marks the spot. I am unsurprised to see that it is a few days away, at least by walking. Fortunately for me, I do not have to limit myself to walking, unless I feel like taking a scenic trip there. 

“Well… Do you happen to have a tent and a bedroll?” I ask as I note where she marks the map. The woman smiles at me and nods. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She tells me, eagerly. 

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