The woman appeared anxious, now. Farengar shook his head. He had no choice, really. He’d already spent the money the woman’s parents had sent. Obtaining the dragonstone hadn’t been a cheap affair. He’d have to take her as an apprentice, at least for the next two months. Or until she incinerated herself.
Farengar sighed. “I suppose I should give you a chance to prove that you do have some magical talent.” He beckoned her to enter his workroom. “Let us begin with something simple. Cast Flames out towards the hall. Mind the books.”
The woman fidgeted. Her face had gone very pale.
“What?” Farengar demanded.
“I… don’t know Flames. Sir.”
Farengar had to take a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to contain his impatience. He smiled sweetly. “Fine.” Enunciating each syllable clearly as if he were a lackwit, the court wizard asked, “What do you know?”
A hot flush swept over the woman’s cheeks. “Candlelight, sir.” She closed her eyes for a moment. A glow blossomed in the palm of her hand. It grew until the stone chamber radiated with a bright light. The Bosmer opened her eyes again. The light began to dim.
“Wait,” Farengar halted her. “I did not tell you to stop yet.”
The woman sustained the glowing spell for several minutes. Farengar couldn’t tell if she wavered more under his piercing gaze or the strain of her rapidly depleting magicka. Sweat sprang out on her brow. Her knees began to wobble.
Farengar said nothing. What sort of endurance for pain and magical exertion did the woman possess? He crossed his arms and continued to watch as her breaths turned into pants. She reached out with her free hand to steady herself against a table, but still she sustained the light.
Farengar frowned. The woman had a deathly pallor, now. He’d never had an apprentice kill herself on this sort of test. Most of them gave up by the time their legs grew weak.
“That’s enough,” Farengar said. After a moment, he offered, “Good.”
The light disappeared instantly. The woman sagged forward. Alarmed, Farengar took half a step toward her before she steadied herself. Her golden gaze had become steely. “Is that good enough for you?” she asked.
Farengar’s lips thinned. “I suppose you will do,” he said.
“So you’ll take me, then? As an apprentice?”
“I have no choice,” Farengar replied. “The payment has already been made. You can have the side room. There is a desk and a cot in there.” He walked over to one of his bookcases and began examining the titles. He paused. “Your parent’s letters never mentioned a name.”
“Olria Byrns.”
Farengar grunted in response. He ran a finger along the spines of the top row of books. He pulled out a spelltome labeled ‘Flames.’ The mage returned to his workstation and tossed it down on the desk. “Study this. Do not speak with me again until you can cast a half-decent Flames spell.”
“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 1b/?
The woman appeared anxious, now. Farengar shook his head. He had no choice, really. He’d already spent the money the woman’s parents had sent. Obtaining the dragonstone hadn’t been a cheap affair. He’d have to take her as an apprentice, at least for the next two months. Or until she incinerated herself.
Farengar sighed. “I suppose I should give you a chance to prove that you do have some magical talent.” He beckoned her to enter his workroom. “Let us begin with something simple. Cast Flames out towards the hall. Mind the books.”
The woman fidgeted. Her face had gone very pale.
“What?” Farengar demanded.
“I… don’t know Flames. Sir.”
Farengar had to take a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to contain his impatience. He smiled sweetly. “Fine.” Enunciating each syllable clearly as if he were a lackwit, the court wizard asked, “What do you know?”
A hot flush swept over the woman’s cheeks. “Candlelight, sir.” She closed her eyes for a moment. A glow blossomed in the palm of her hand. It grew until the stone chamber radiated with a bright light. The Bosmer opened her eyes again. The light began to dim.
“Wait,” Farengar halted her. “I did not tell you to stop yet.”
The woman sustained the glowing spell for several minutes. Farengar couldn’t tell if she wavered more under his piercing gaze or the strain of her rapidly depleting magicka. Sweat sprang out on her brow. Her knees began to wobble.
Farengar said nothing. What sort of endurance for pain and magical exertion did the woman possess? He crossed his arms and continued to watch as her breaths turned into pants. She reached out with her free hand to steady herself against a table, but still she sustained the light.
Farengar frowned. The woman had a deathly pallor, now. He’d never had an apprentice kill herself on this sort of test. Most of them gave up by the time their legs grew weak.
“That’s enough,” Farengar said. After a moment, he offered, “Good.”
The light disappeared instantly. The woman sagged forward. Alarmed, Farengar took half a step toward her before she steadied herself. Her golden gaze had become steely. “Is that good enough for you?” she asked.
Farengar’s lips thinned. “I suppose you will do,” he said.
“So you’ll take me, then? As an apprentice?”
“I have no choice,” Farengar replied. “The payment has already been made. You can have the side room. There is a desk and a cot in there.” He walked over to one of his bookcases and began examining the titles. He paused. “Your parent’s letters never mentioned a name.”
“Olria Byrns.”
Farengar grunted in response. He ran a finger along the spines of the top row of books. He pulled out a spelltome labeled ‘Flames.’ The mage returned to his workstation and tossed it down on the desk. “Study this. Do not speak with me again until you can cast a half-decent Flames spell.”
***