The Will of Mara - Chapter 5

Drogon did not talk much for the rest of the way to Winterhold, he was wary of the company he held. He twisted in his saddle to check on Vigilance,his loyal war-hound. Concern riveted through his body, he could see that there was pain there, he tugged on the reins gently bringing his mare to a halt and patted the thick grey fur upon the hound's head. He reached down to his belt and pulled out his water flask and gave his friend some water before they continued. The sooner they got to Winterhold, the better. Drogon held gaze with Vigilance for a few more seconds before turning back round to face the path ahead, Winterhold appeared into his vision. A vast and lonely place, perfect for mages to come and enjoy the solitude in which they can practice their powers without interference.  He looked forward to being able to just concentrate on his talents on his own, his only observer his loyal best friend, Vigilance. Racanna the Redguard would be on his own as soon as they reached Winterhold.

Racanna pondered how to go about his task once they got to the College. His masters would be very unhappy with him should he return without Drogon's head. He had heard from his masters that he was a survivor from the Thalmor Rapture, they had murdered his entire family in cold blood while he was out hunting. Racanna could faintly see how haunted Drogon was from his past in his pale green eyes, like he was reliving the moment and it was the anger that drove him when he fought. He would make a formidable opponent indeed. Racanna had never known his family, since he could remember had been a slave, this is until he killed his owners and became a mercenary. He narrowed his eyes, the bright sun reflected off of the snow, blinding him temporarily until his eyes refocused and he could see the small buildings of Winterhold. He looked up to the Argonian, “looks like we're here” he said, breaking the silence. All he received was a glare from Drogon, Racanna looked away again. There was something quietly frightening about this man, he couldn't quite put his finger on it but it was there. This man was not going to be an easy kill. “Shall we get something to eat at the inn before we head into the College?” Racanna asked, Drogon returned his gaze.

“You can if you like, I am going straight there, my friend needs healing magic and I just want to be inside those walls” he muttered, nudging his horse into a faster walk. Racanna nodded.

“That is fair, though there is a free mug of ale for you if you join me” he said hopefully, Drogon ignored the invite, moving into a trot, he moved ahead to the giant arch of the College. Racanna bore holes the argonian's back with dagger-like glares as he watched his scaled adversary rode away.

A single elven mage stood underneath the great stone arch, she stepped forward as she saw him approach. Drogon dismounted and led his mare up the stone slope towards her. “Hello, my name is Faralda, what do you seek at the College?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Drogon stepped towards her.

“I seek knowledge about magic and to hone the skills I already have” he said assertively. Faralda nodded and gestured to an emblem etched into the stone slab.

“To gain entry, you must prove yourself and your magical ability” she muttered, “you must perform Firebolt, cast it onto the emblem and you gain access to the knowledge and power that can be unlocked here” she said, the corners of her mouth playing into a smirk. Drogon closed his eyes gently and clenched his fists, he could feel the magic coursing through his body. It tingled in his fingers, in his mind he envisioned embers rising into raging fire. Its heat flickering from his core, moving across his scaled chest, he felt the heat spread down his arms, he held it in his palms for a few seconds. As his eyes reopened, he quickly unclenched his fists and splayed his palms, a blast of fire erupting onto the etched stone. It was quelled a moment later, Faralda turned to him. “You have passed, I am both surprised and impressed. Welcome to the College” she muttered, before gesturing for him to pass her. Drogon nodded in thanks and tethered the mare to a hitching post under a wooden shack to protect the horses from the unrelenting weather of Winterhold. A young boy was grooming a bay gelding to the right of him, he reached into his coin purse and gave the boy a handful of coins. “See her well tended to, buy yourself a hot meal too. Bad weather is coming” he said with a smile as he glanced to the darkening sky. The boy beamed up at him “yes sir, she will be gleaming when you return” he said before returning to the gelding. Drogon untied the bonds that  tethered Vigilance to his horse and lifted him gently over his shoulder.

When Drogon made his way to the College's courtyard, there he was greeted by a short, stern looking Breton woman. The mage had to crane her neck just to look at him. He smiled down at her, “greetings, my name is Drogon, might I know yours?” he asked her, she nodded.

“My name is Mirabelle Ervine, I am the Master Wizard, second to the Arch-Mage. Tending to matters that he cannot, greeting new students being one of them. We are awaiting one more, a Khajiit, he goes by the name J'zargo. Have you seen him?” She asked looking out the way Drogon had just come. He shook his head.

“Sadly not-” he said as a smaller hooded figure came through the archway. Mirabelle sighed and tapped her foot.

“J'zargo you are late” she grumbled at him.

“Apologies, Mistress Ervine” he said before taking his place beside Drogon. The Khajiit looked up at the tall, dark skinned Argonian with a sneer, “I am J'zargo, I am going to be the best mage in Skyrim. Who are you?” He muttered, Drogon looked down at the smaller male and smirked.

“My name is Drogon, I am Dragonborn and I am going to save the world against the recent onslaught of the dragons. I am Thane to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater of Whiterun and to Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath. I do not wish to be the best mage, only powerful enough to fell my enemies and to keep my friend here from the shores of the afterlife” he muttered with a small smile as he watched the smirk fall off the Khajiit's face. Mirabelle led them to their rooms.

“Your room is here Drogon, we have provided comfort for your friend until you learn the appropriate spell to help him” she said, gesturing to a large feather downed pillow next to the hearth, he nodded in acknowledgemen.

“You have my gratitude” he said before laying Vigilance down on the end of his bed, Ervine and J'zargo continued down the hallway. “Stay here Vigilance, I will return soon with the medicine and the spells that will ease and heal your pain” he paused and scratched him behind the ears, looking straight into the friendly amber eyes of his injured friend, “I am sorry you are feeling this pain, I would take it in an instant” he said, remorse riddled in his voice. Vigilance whined and shuffled closer to him, Drogon managed a small smile and patted the war-hound's head, “I must leave now, I shall return soon” he said before straightening his posture and striding out of the room.

To Be Continued