Chapter Text
Eyes closed at the sudden presence of a blinding white light, the culprit being the bright night sky reflecting against an endless landscape of snow.
Tabb slowly tried to open her eyes again, but they hadn't quite adjusted to the bright light of her new surroundings. Malik was still unconscious from his magic coma, or at least what she assumed was a magic coma, and the constant presence of cold felt almost... hostile.
She hadn't been around snow since she left Braelyn's world, and she was definitely not dressed for it, with the Post-World having been fairly temperate, and her current clothes having been chosen for that sort of weather.
Still, the snow was the last thing she was thinking of at the moment, as vaguely medieval-esque figures now stood around her and Malik, one carried two swords, another a giant axe, the third held a bow, and the fourth's hands seemed to glow ominously. Another world with magic then, if there was any comfort in that...
Tabb swallowed down a clump of saliva that had accumulated in her mouth from the shock of it all, and she tried her best to keep her emotions in control, as Malik's state was still unknown.
"Please." She finally said, softly but loud enough to be heard in the winter wind, as she slowly raised her hands to show she held no ill will. "We need a healer."
The following are the writings of one Thane Bjorn Iceblood, of Winterhold.
20th of Frostfall, Fourth Era, Year 201
It never sat well with me to work with mages, especially after the majority of our city was lost to the quakes that spared their College, but these are desperate times.
With the return of the dragons, I took it upon myself to hire a warrior from the Companions, the greatest mercenaries available in our proud province, as well as a tracker from the city of Riften, whom I suspect to be in leagues with the Thieves Guild, and finally the mage from the College.
Caravans and traders have been scarce around our great city for too long, and whilst my Jarl, whom I dearly respect, has chosen to sit and wait, I feel it is necessary to take action, learn the patterns of these dragon attacks, and figure out where they nest. Not necessarily to attack them, but to avoid them.
The page turns.
21st of Frostfall, Fourth Era, Year 201
Things have gotten complicated. We lost the track of the dragon we were tracking due to the increasing snowstorms in the region, and had to prepare camp when-
I don't know what to say. Our mage, Linde Nirnsdaughter, started to twitch, her eyes glowing unnaturally as she stopped breathing, clutching her amulet of Julianos, the god of knowledge. Me and the scout held on to her shoulders, for she almost fell to her knees, when suddenly a flash of light took our attention away from the girl.
Two children appeared just a few feet from us, the snow shaping itself around them as if they had been born of it. Their hair whiter than even the snow itself, my heart sank as my mind thought them to be Falmer, snow elves, before I realised one was unconscious, and the other was staring at us, frozen in fear like a deer.
The Companion had her axe at the ready, but Linde suddenly found her breath and moved in front all of us, before turning to lock her own eyes onto the child, who began to raise her hands and speak to us.
They asked for help.
The following are the writings of one Linde Nirnsdaughter, mage and scholar of the College of Winterhold.
Year 201 of the Fourth Era. Turdas the 21st, approximately 18:30:
After the arrival of the young strangers, a Redguard male, unconscious, and a female (Breton? Imperial? Race remains unknown), me and the rest of Thane Bjorn's party have safely arrived back at Winterhold, where we quickly entered the Frozen Heart Inn where we paid for room and supplies.
Observation: The two individuals appear to have the same hair color, a strong white, but different complexions. I am theorizing the two are siblings, with a different mother but the same father.
I am not sure how I sensed their arrival before it happened, it was as if the magicka within me was being warped by something, just before they arrived. No theorizes as to why for the moment, but they clearly must have arrived by the use of teleportation magic, which is covered by the school of Alteration, the manipulation of reality.
I interviewed the female subject as I looked over her compatriot. Her name was unusual, as was the male's, and according to the female the male was under a state of healing, a coma of some sorts.
Male subject's magicka feels... strange as if his soul is absorbing all the surrounding magicka like a sponge in water, and I have to consciously ensure my own magicka isn't drained. I can only assume he was born under the celestial sign of the Atronach.
I ensured the female subject that he was safe and healthy for now, and we would do best to give him water and liquid based nutrients till he wakes up. Interestingly, I sense something strange from her, but I am unsure if it's from her magicka pool or-
The female mage paused, and removed her quill from her journal as her eyes moved up to look at Tabb.
Her eyes were like miscoloured emeralds, and the energy Linde could sense from her was starting to give her odd feelings.
She held her hand out and used the spell "Detect Life", which was created specifically to detect a person by their magicka pool.
Tabb did not have one.
"Y- No." Linde's eyes widened as she retracted her hand with a shiver.
"You're a husk. A Soul Shriven. How..."
Linde stood up and stepped away from Tabb, shaking her head at the girl.
"What are you?"