บท 232: Probe
The group's return to Falkreath was met with a relatively large group of people... A quarter to half the town had apparently come out, having heard of their expedition to find Lohir and deal with the bear.
The cheers quickly died down when they noticed the solemn mood of the group however, everyone made way as Valdr and his friends carried the humongous bear pelt in which Lohir's corpse was wrapped up.
Even the Jarl had come out to observe, giving Michael his first glimpse of this land's nobility. And much to his chagrin, the man looked exactly how he thought he would.
Dengeir of Stuhn was a tall broad-shouldered yet fat man, he wore lavish-looking clothes that almost looked good enough for a noble back in Halkeginia to wear. Jewellery of all kinds covered his neck, hands, and wrists... His face was narrow, with wrinkles that made him look as if he were always frowning, with dark bags under his eyes as if he'd not slept in days. He had wispy grey hair that was balding at the front, and a large grey beard that almost reached his chest.
All in all, he looked like every fat, lazy and cruel noble he'd had the misfortune of meeting back in Halkeginia. He only hoped the man wouldn't be as obnoxious as his appearance implied.
At Dengeir's side was his steward, whose name was Nenya from what Michael had heard from the gossiping locals. Nenya was the first High Elf he'd ever personally seen, and boy, trying to get Tiffania to fit in would be a big struggle. The High Elf had cut her blond hair short, allowing her rather stubby elven ears to show. She had golden eyes and pale skin that was tinted yellow, it looked more natural than sickly however. Lastly, despite being female, she towered over the Jarl by a head, showing that her races proclivity of height didn't only affect the men.
Her forehead was more pronounced, as her chin was sharp like the rest of her features... If he had to compare it to an animal, he'd say she looked like an eagle. Lastly, she was thin, with small breasts and skinny limbs, certainly more suited to magic or archery than physical combat.
Despite how exotic she was though, he much preferred how Tiffania looked... Her pale white skin, curves, and 'softness' easily beat out whatever curious attraction he held for the High Elf.
His eyes meet with Nenya's and he only now realises that she'd been watching him examine her... A grin appears on her face as she winks at him, causing Michael to furrow his brow... Wasn't she like, forty years old or something?... "Even if she doesn't look it..." he mentally remarks, catching himself and shaking his head again. Why would she be interested in him in the first place? Right now he was literally covered in dried blood...
He pulls his eyes away from the High Elf and continues following the group, as they carry Lohir's body to the Hall of the Dead. Michael departs as they reach the entrance of the graveyard however, headed back to the Dead Man's Drink so that the people who actually knew and cared about Lohir could properly grieve.
"Michael, you're back." Valga greets as he steps through the doors, her nose scrunching as she spots the state of him. "Nope! You're not coming in here looking and smelling like that! Go clean yourself before I personally throw you in the river!" she says, Illococoo next to her quickly nodding her head in agreement as her nostrils flare.
...
"Fine, but I'll remember this!" he says, shaking his fist at her before leaving, ignoring the laughs and jeers of the other patrons.
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"Second time's the charm." Valga says as she looks Michael over, nodding at his fresh clothes and still damp hair.
"Whatever, maybe you should look to have a bath installed or someth-" Michael starts but is interrupted as Illococoo grabs his hand and pulls him towards the room where Charlotte's mother is staying.
"H-hold up! What's the rush!" he stutters out as Illococoo pushes him into the room, allowing him to come face to face with Charlotte who was trying to brush her mother's hair, much to the woman's irritation.
"Big sis is awake!" Illococoo happily exclaims, skipping into the room and spinning once before glomping onto the short glasses-wearing girl.
"Illococoo calm..." Charlotte quietly chides before looking over to Michael, "Are you well?"
Michael slowly nods, "Yeah, but I should be asking you that instead. You've been passed out for days now..." he blinks, "Is Tiffania up as well?"
Charlotte shakes her head, "No..."
He lets out a sigh, "Thought that might be so... How're you feeling? You passed out as soon as you tried to use your magic..." he says meaningfully. If she would pass out every time she tried to use magic, she was done as a mage... But the only reason he see that was causing this was the new world they were in... What made this world's magic different compared to the last?
Charlotte's lips thin as she stiffly picks up her staff that was leaning against the wall, Michael's eyes widen and he tries to stop her, only for it to be too late as a spell leaves her lips.
"Breeze." she chants, tilting her staff forwards and causing all the air in the room to begin circulating around the room, the temperature dipping slightly.
Michael ignores all that however, instead focussing on Charlotte, watching to see if she'd be out of commission for another few days.
...
Only for her to casually rest her staff back against the wall and continue brushing her mother's hair. "Easy."
"Wait, how?... Did you try to cast a spell before I got here?" he asks, dumbfounded, knowing that her confidence must've come from somewhere.
Illococoo nods for her, "Big sis was annoyed when she woke up, so she summoned water to drink..."
Huh, he hadn't really thought about it, but it seemed that Charlotte was proud of her magic... Enough so that she'd risk harming herself to make sure she still had it.
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