The Dragonborn would already be freakishly strong, but while corrupted and enhanced by the Ebony Blade? That was potentially apocalyptic shit.
Michael shakes such thoughts from his head and focuses again on Balgruuf, "The Blade is currently sealed, and I think it will remain that way unless people start tampering with it. As you already know, I am a fairly strong magic user, so I think I can keep it safe until we find a more permanent way of dealing with it... While you might not know my character much yet, please believe that I wouldn't dare put my family at risk by trying to use it."
...
Balgruuf lets out a long sigh, "Where is it sealed, show me, let Farengar see if what you saw is true."
Michael nods, holding out his hand and making a show of materialising the book, causing Farengar to lean forward in interest. The man bounces from his position and quickly makes his way to Michael, looking over the book with keen eyes.
Michael refuses to allow the man to hold it, but it seemed that looking at the book alone was enough to 'slake his thirst'... For now at least.
"This... W-what... Is this?" the Court Mage mutters, conjuring a spell in his hand to analyse the magic contained in the object, only for his hand to be repulsed away.
"What is it?" the Jarl asks, curious at his Mage's findings.
...
"Farengar?"
"I-. I don't know, my Jarl. My magic suggests that the object we are seeing isn't even there. As if it didn't exist in the first place. Where did you acquire this, Michael Tahlin?"
Michael shrugs, "You could say I was born with it. I was just suddenly able to summon it..." he smirks, "Maybe I was blessed by the Gods?"
...
The others at Balgruuf's side glance at Michael in confusion, not because of his words, but because Farengar wasn't quick to dispute his claims. The Court Mage was well known to dislike things with no clear answer, claims of the Gods influence was a particular pet peeve of the man as people used this answer to solve both the mysteries of the universe, and that one time they forget their keys in their other pants...
"Perhaps." is all the Court Mage could muster at Michael's words, resting a hand on his chest and letting out a breath, "Could I perhaps, persuade you to stay here longer so I could look over this book again? I am sure, with enough time I could unravel its mysteries..."
Michael shakes his head, "And risk disturbing the seals on the Ebony Blade? I'd rather not. I understand my book well enough, and I don't need outside interference to tell me more of it." he explains, clapping the book closed and allowing it to dissipate away.
The Mage gives a reluctant nod and steps back up beside the Jarl, the man giving a brief, 'non-explanation' over what it was.
The Jarl and his retainers hold a brief discussion over what they should do, before eventually deciding to just allow Michael to continue to hold it. No one there was an expert concerning Daedric Artifacts, and no one wanted to be responsible for trying to contain it... So, leaving Michael to hold it and all the responsibility that would imply suits them well enough.
With all that decided, Jarl Balgruuf stands from his throne and looks down at Michael, "You have done my people a great service, Michael Tahlin. And while a good friend of mine perished, many more were saved. I entrust to you the duty of keeping the Blade sealed, I name you Blade-Bearer. Your position will be kept secret, and everything heard here today will not be allowed outside of this hall to prevent cultists from targeting you... But, if that thing should see the light of day, I will assume the worst and have men sent for you... Do you understand and accept?"
Michael nods, "I do."
The Jarl nods and gestures to Proventus, "For your feats, I will have Proventus award you a thousand gold. You have done us a great favour, know that you are a citizen of Whiterun now and one of my people... The lockdown will also be lifted, go with the guards and retrieve your family and rest, today has been trying for us all." he ends with a sigh, waving Michael off.
Michael gives a slight bow and leaves Dragonsreach with the guards, headed straight for the gate. Unfortunately, his actions under the Gildergreen had already spread through the city like wildfire. Most people sent him looks of derision or disgust, while others held their opinions to themselves for now. The fact that Michael hadn't been executed and wasn't sitting in prison lent to his innocence. Not that people particularly cared about that...
Outside, he meets up with Tiffania, Charlotte, Illococoo, and Maria, helping them inside the city and getting them rooms inside the local inn, The Bannered Mare. Medresi also comes along, but quickly separates to try and find some way to make use of her gold... She couldn't just drag around sacks of gold wherever she went, not if she wanted to keep it.
Michael also decided to stay at the inn despite having a bed in Jorrvaskr. He wasn't sure about the rules of the Companions, but he was sure they didn't force people to sleep there... Right?
The inn owner Hulda, almost sent him away packing as she'd seen his fight with the crazed Matron, luckily he managed to explain the situation, allowing him to stay with the others for now.
The girls themselves were semi-surprised to hear about what he'd done, but it wasn't like similar things hadn't happened in the past...
With everything sorted, Michael lets the girls explore the city while he heads to the Skyforge, finally deciding to get his two sets of Draugr ebony armour looked at.
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It's been three days since Michael had 'sealed' the Ebony Blade in the Book of Heroes, and things had returned to relative normality. He continued his membership with the Companions, the group interrogated him over what'd happened to the Matron and quickly came to an understanding about why he'd had to act so.
A few were a bit wary of him at the revelation of his talent with magic, but the most surprising reaction to it all was Aela... It was not of shock, suspicion, or even pity... It was of anger, anger at the fact that he'd been handicapping himself while fighting her.
As soon as he entered the training grounds behind Jorrvasker she challenged him to a fight and demanded he use his magic against her... Needless to say, even with the various resistances provided to her by her status as a Werewolf, she didn't stand a chance.
She might be stronger than him and almost as fast without his Gandalfr runes, but there wasn't much someone could do when your opponent teleported around you like a fly with epilepsy. His Shackles weren't able to hold her for long, and even when he refused to use any truly harmful spells, he won with a fair amount of ease.
It seemed that Aela had never truly been challenged this much before, as once he was done thrashing her, she delved into training like a madwoman... After her defeat at his hand, whenever he came back to Jorrvaskr, he'd always find her either shooting arrows at a far off target or slashing dummies and people unfortunate enough to get dragged into a spar.
Disregarding the training-maniac called Aela, the other Companions now held a greater amount of respect for him, his actions in putting down the Matron and saving civilians putting him in a better light.
Of course, many of the townsfolk didn't see it like that, particular the Battle-Born clan who felt he should be thrown in jail for killing the possessed Matron, regardless if she would have harmed more people... The law is the law, and the only reason they hadn't taken their thoughts further was because the Jarl had already made his decision.
Speaking of the Jarl... Farengar had become a common sight at the Bannered Mare, specifically, badgering Michael to let him have another look at the Book of Heroes. The Court Mage was usually never seen outside of his workshop, so to see him in the tavern was a big surprise to the citizens of Whiterun.
Michael also took advantage of this, allowing Farengar to take timed looks at the Book of Hero if he tutored Tiffania, Charlotte, and Illococoo. Of course, the man was still busy, so these lessons were usually only half an hour or so long... But still, they'd helped the girls progress further than they would have in their studies.
They were now able to cast some basic Tamrielic spells. Candlelight, Flames, Sparks, Frostbite, and finally, Lesser Ward. This of course left Michael falling behind them in his studies, but he felt he could catch up once they reached Winterhold College.
Lastly, Michael had made the acquaintance of Eorlund Grey-Mane, he'd found the man where he usually was, hammering away atop the Skyforge which sat next to Jorrvaskr. He'd been in the process of making a Skyforge Steel Sword for a new member of the Companions... Which turned out to be for Michael, a gift from Vilkas apparently.
He'd been forced to wait an hour for the man to finish, having already been snarled at for trying to interrupt him. Once it was done and the sword was being quenched, Michael was finally able to talk to the man, and instantly caught his attention when he spoke of the ebony he had.
Eorlund Grey-Mane, despite his prestigious talents, almost never had the opportunity to work with ebony. The reason for this was because ebony wasn't really native to Skyrim, even if you did stumble across a vein of it, the amount would be so little that it would barely be worth the effort to extract it. This is the main reason that most smiths able to work Ebony were over in Morrowind... Fortunately, Eorlund had managed to learn the art, so a trip over to Morrowind wasn't necessary.
The man had gaped when Michael had pulled the two sets of ebony armour out, along with the ebony weapons he didn't intend to use. In truth, the amount of ebony he had right now was probably more than double what anyone in Skyrim had in their possession.
"So, can you work it?" Michael asks, ignoring the fact that Eorlund was almost salivating at the sight of the ebony. He face remained neutral, but he could see the glint in his eye.
"I-er, yes. Yes, I think I could, lad. But first I need to know what you want made, with this amount of material I could probably armour a giant... Or make them a club or two..."
"Huh, to be honest, I hadn't really thought about it. I don't really care about the weight, but it needs to allow a wide range of movements." he says, knowing he could probably learn to silence the sounds his armour would make with magic.
...
Eorlund rakes his hand through his large white beard, "Maybe some... Mail then?" he asks questioningly, "Still leaves a lot left to be used..."
Michael crosses his arms and leans his head backwards in thought, "Is scale mail a thing here?"
Eorlund nods, "Aye, but the most I've seen is iron and steel. Never ebony..."
"Well, why not make the first set of ebony scale mail then? I'll pay you for it of course, but it seems like an interesting project even without the gold involved, right?"
Eorlund grins, "Now you're talking my language. Alright, let me take your measurements and I'll get to work on it. No idea how long it'll take, but making the individual scales'll take time. I'll let you know when you next get back."
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