Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 263: Chapter LXXXIV: The Water Twins



Chapter 263: Chapter LXXXIV: The Water Twins

Chapter 263: Chapter LXXXIV: The Water Twins



Time seemed to fly as I sat cross legged atop that small hill, Krein's deep voice whispering sage advice about using the voice as he observed me with knowing eyes. He obviously taught before and seemed to enjoy it as he explained concepts that I had a hard time grasping like they were the most obvious thing in the world.

The thing I asked him to teach me was a deeply terrible one, especially for someone with my experiences. I sought his insight into souls, and how to turn said knowledge into a devastating attack.

At first, he was taken aback, mostly due to his understanding that mortals found souls to be sacred and not because of his own beliefs, and he was right, the soul was a deeply sacred thing but some things were just too difficult to kill and I knew that having what amounted to a "Power word: Kill" would come in handy at one point or another.

'Better to have a power and never use it than not have it when you truly need it' Is how I justified myself to him... and myself.

Most of the night was spent theorizing on the best combination of words before we settled on it and he spent the remaining time giving me what he called 'an introduction to the concept of essence' but felt like it was a masterclass lesson in animancy, the depth and breadth of which ended up with me falling asleep without even realizing it.

And then I woke up refreshed and feeling more energized than ever with a bunch of tall grass surrounding me in a neat circle and the dragon nowhere to be found.

I did not need to worry though as I sensed him resting atop one of the mountain peaks to the south.

My return to camp went through without any fanfare, with everyone long since used to the concept of mages doing whatever the fuck they wanted no one batted an eye at my disappearance.

As everyone else woke up to greet the dawn I made the rounds across the small settlement and was pleasantly surprised to find that morale was at an all time high. Maybe my standards were too big but I fully expected at least some of the Dunmer to be shaken with the death of a good fifteen percent of the force.

Then again, this was motherfucking Skyrim and those were some pretty damn good numbers for a land where you were expected to die if you ever stepped out of a city without guards or martial training.

In fact, a good number the Dunmer were outright hopeful, many of them having family in the Grey Quarter saw this as a golden opportunity to move them away from the Nords' hatred and into a far safer place, some of the bolder twats in the ranks even started whispering about me being a living saint of the displaced.

I would be bothered about it but honestly, it was going to happen at some point, and wasting energy on people being a tad overly thankful for the guidance I offered was just going to be hypocritical. If they felt themselves lowly enough to rise me above a 'mere mortal' then good on them, I gave no fucks either way. The people whose opinion I cared about had enough of a brain to not fall into that particular rabbit hole anyway.

Still, there was work to be done, and sitting on my ass pondering on it would solve no problems, so after checking in with the quartermasters and making sure our plan of attack was still on track I sent the men on their way and fetched Gelebor for yet another long walk filled with prayer.

I could not wait to be done with this shit, my creative bits were getting antsy, and building this place up into a magical wonderland could not come too soon.

(General POV, half a day later)

The four Circle Companions slowly marched across a frozen field, the blood covering their weapons and armor not seeming to bother them in the slightest as Vilkas tapped Durrak's shoulder.

"Hm?" The orc grunted as he chewed on some jerky.

"What is next on the list after the shaman camp?" The smarter twin asked.

The orc quickly swallowed his food and unrolled a small parchment, his eyes narrowing at the tiny writing "Next up is... meet up with the Maren's unit and join in a pincer attack, should be the last big camp as well so we can finally get around to attacking the main base."

Before anyone could respond Durrak frowned "Fucking hell, there is a tiny addendum here but I can't read it for the life of me."

"Damn spies." Vilkas grunts and proffers his hand "Give it here." Taking the parchment from the shrugging orc he stared at it with the focus of a warrior and read aloud "Be warned, Boss said not to step onto the frozen lake, if you do you are fucked."

"Huh, wonder what he meant by that." Farkas hums as they continue walking without a care, only to find that Aela has completely stopped moving.

They all turned to the huntress and saw her pointing below them, their eyes slowly moving down to find themselves standing atop a very large, very frozen lake.

Vilkas palmed his face "Ah shi-"

And that is as far as he got as the entire lake shook, the Companions scrambling to get off it as fast as they could.

They got about half the way there before the ice cracked, thankfully not right below them, even if they might have preferred it to what happened next.

Two blurs of reddish bronze flew out of the lake, draconic roars shaking the air as they announced their return.

Just as quickly as before, both dragons invoked the whirlwind sprint and went in for the kill. Unlike before though, they found the Argonian dancing around them with insulting ease as for each shout they pointlessly sent his way he responded with a painful flash of magic. The Companions joined in mere moments later, finally having shaken off the 'Shalazar effect' they tried to do as much damage as they could.

The dragons outright ignored them outside of shouting a shield into existence when a particularly nasty wound was about to be made.

At first, it seemed that Shalazar would just annoy the massive beasts to death, but for all his

might, a master of destruction he was not, and soon he found himself giving his all to evade the now far less rusty dragons, barely giving him any time to damage them in any way. After one particularly explosive contest of magic and voice, the two sides found themselves distanced from one another, the companions panting tiredly with Durrak still nowhere to be found and the lizard wizard chugging down a Magicka potion with an annoying slurping

noise.

"You annoy us, lizard." The right twin growled "Fight us or flee, you cannot do both." Shalazar cleaned his mouth with his robe and let out a satisfied sigh "Oh, I very much assure

you that I can."

The left dragon turned to his comrade "Brother, this is getting irritating. Enough playing

around."

The right one let out a huff of hot air "Fine..." And turned to his targets "Pitiful creatures,

you have earned our ire. Know that you fa-"

A few things happened in that instant.

Shalazar smirked.

A slumped orc grinned like a madman as his wounds finally healed.

And both the twin dragons shoved each other out of the way with full force as two blurs, one

black and one gold passed through their previous position.

Reyvin completely missed his target as for all his clairvoyance he could not move quickly enough to do any more than merely clip the dragon's scales.

Krein on the other hand missed his attempt to bite down on the other dragon's jaw but still managed to slam his claws into his face and send him sprawling.

The entire battlefield stilled as the new combatants joined the fight.

The downed dragon clutched his face and glared at his enemy "You...!"

A rumbling chuckle left the pitch black dragon's throat as he stared down at the twins with amusement "So this is where you cowards were hiding for all this time. It will be a pleasure to show you just how pathetic you are once again, Voslaarum and Naslaarum." Even as they failed to recognize the dragon that spoke to them with such derision, both the

twins still felt a familiar shiver go down their spines as the black dragon smirked down at them. Then their eyes moved to the other attacker and found a Dunmer standing atop a golden flaming bird, and holding a very dangerous looking blade. Voslaarum and Naslaarum shared one quick look, nodded, and bolted the fuck out of there.

Voslaarum: Claw Water Twin

Naslaarum: Tooth Water Twin

You return home after a hard day of work only to hear a light whistling tune and find your

entire place completely barren, all that is left is one singular pickaxe leaned against the wall. Those stones won't mine themselves.

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