Simon experimented with the Flames spell a few times, but it had no effect.
Roughly, there were four possibilities.
First, the pronunciation was incorrect; Simon's Nordic speaking was terrible.
Second, he failed to achieve resonance, which was a very high possibility.
Third, the language was wrong, and Nordic couldn't be used—this was highly unlikely, as it was written in Nordic, and even if Simon used High Rock language, it would be futile.
Fourth, Birna's translation was wrong.
The Troll scratched his head. There was one more possibility: he had to use the energy of the Magicka Core—was he being difficult?
Simon believed there were always more solutions than problems. He returned to the tavern to research with Jonas.
Unexpectedly, the Breton Boy succeeded on his first try.
When Simon asked him about his feelings, Jonas explained for a long time but couldn't articulate how he succeeded. In any case, his Flames spell had a high degree of completion.
Simon fell silent, looking at the ball of fire in the boy's hand.
It is said that Bretons are born poets, with poetry echoing in their bodies, allowing them to naturally adapt to various contexts.
Chanting requires resonance of body and mind.
Perhaps it was time to abandon his rationality and embrace romanticism.
In an idealistic world, sensibility often transcends reason, and philosophical thought is often more authoritative than established theorems.
"Aetherius above, Oblivion below, elements converge, fire begets."
Magicka is another dimension beneath the world, and magic is a projection of Magicka phenomena—a transformation of light.
Influence the frequency of Magicka with the frequency of thought.
Aetherius above.
Aetherius is the realm of gods, the origin of all possibilities.
Oblivion below.
Oblivion is the realm of demons, the burial ground of all possibilities.
Elements converge.
Also, the convergence of possibilities.
Fire begets.
Feel the fire, observe the fire. Fire is always there, flowing in the soul of life.
Scoop up a section of Magicka, shape it, mold it.
Bang—
In Simon's eyes, the world was an ocean of tides, and he was a small boat, drifting in thoughtless tranquility.
He couldn't recall colors, couldn't recall forms, only felt a vigorous power.
Fire appeared before him.
The boy watched the small elemental with awe.
The fire formed a beautiful and elegant female figure. Golden-red magma flowed on her charred, translucent, obsidian-like skin, seeping from the cracks in her body. As she appeared, the hearth in the tavern blazed more fiercely.
Although this fellow was very small, it was indeed alive.
The Troll created a one-foot-tall Fire Elemental.
Simon's eyes were open, still lost in thought. The small Fire Elemental flew gracefully in the air, its slender legs leaving a fiery trail, like the dance of a swarm of bees.
"So beautiful..."
Simon slowly regained his senses and met the gaze of the Fire Elemental.
The Troll tentatively extended his palm. The elegant elemental danced and fluttered on his hand.
Before he could speak further, the Fire Elemental's form began to shrink; Simon's transmitted Magicka was insufficient.
The elemental could not speak, but its actions were astonished and fearful, darting about like a bewildered butterfly. The next moment, the Fire Elemental vanished from Simon's palm like an epiphyllum.
The boy's tone suddenly dropped, "Sir, is she dead?"
"No."
Simon sensed the situation within the pure land in his palm. A small sun had appeared in the dark void, and the Mother's Tears shone like glistening pearls.
The Fire Elemental had, to some extent, stabilized the spatiotemporal structure of the pure land, or rather, it had accelerated this process.
And due to the characteristic of time stagnation, apart from the scattered Magicka being illuminated by the firelight, everything else would remain unaffected.
Simon frowned, he had to learn Frost magic quickly, otherwise, the teardrops would truly evaporate.
"Sir, where did she go?"
"She's resting." A muffled voice came from under the black hood, thick and drawn out, as if carrying some cold undertone, a familiar feeling.
The boy lowered his head and trembled slightly.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, sir. Let's go find Faralda for the assessment."
"Alright." Simon planned to buy some spellbooks from the Dark Elf mage, especially Frost spells.
As they left the room, the innkeeper greeted them from behind the counter and asked if the food was delicious.
Simon hadn't eaten, but Jonas had tasted a bit of everything, especially the thick soup, which he drank completely. The boy bowed slightly, "It was delicious, thank you."
The innkeeper burst into laughter, and the other men in the tavern roared with laughter. Birna's drunk brother pointed at Simon and shouted, "Oh! Friends, this is a distinguished guest from my sister's shop!"
"Hahahaha!"
The boy was at a loss in this situation and froze. The Troll didn't wait for him and walked straight ahead.
A few notes of a lute sounded, and a bard began to sing a familiar ancient song.
"Ragnar the Red"
"Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who rode from Lolerstead to Whiterun with a swagger!
"Boasting all the way of his many battles, showing off his sword and his gold!
"But then he was silenced, all because the shield-maiden Matilda said:
"'Oh, you keep bragging and drank all my mead, now I'll have your head!'
"Swords clashed and clanged, brave Matilda was full of fighting spirit!
"The braggart Ragnar could no longer brag... because his ugly head had fallen!"
This sudden black humor startled the boy. For some reason, he was distracted today.
Simon also vaguely noticed Jonas's unusual state at this time, but the child's mind was too chaotic and disordered for him to understand.
"Let's go."
The boy was called back to reality by a summons and hurriedly took two quick steps, following behind the Troll.
Leaving the tavern, the song and lute music continued without pause.
The more suppressed a place, the more fertile the ground for joy.
Again, they encountered the familiar Guards on the familiar street. They stood outside the tavern, listening quietly to the laughter and singing. Their figures were as tall and straight as cedars. The boy looked back at their retreating forms. In such a land of strong winds and heavy snow, the faint light illuminated their outlines, like towering memorial pillars.
Stepping onto the stone bridge, Jonas walked very carefully this time, not needing Simon's help, and his feet didn't slip. He seemed to be getting the hang of it.
Simon looked down at the boy's shoes, which were worn-out fur shoes. His pants were not the old mage's, but the boy's own, washed and dried. Although they still fit, they were also dirty and old.
"When you have free time from your studies, go buy some clothes at the general store. Dress better, alright?"
"...Okay, sir." The boy hesitated for a moment, then nodded, a smile appearing on his face.
The Troll secretly shook his head. The little brat was awkward, perhaps reluctant to part.
Faralda was still standing in the shadow of the archway, a ball of crimson fire still swirling in her hands, moving like liquid between her palms, illuminating her face.
"You're back? That was quick, impressive, really. Now just cast a Flames spell on this mark on the ground."
The Dark Elf pointed to the College of Winterhold insignia on the ground, a circular stone tablet carved with a five-pointed sun-eye rune.
Jonas bowed slightly to Faralda out of respect, then softly chanted the spell, raising his right hand. A ball of fire slowly ignited in his palm, sparks bursting and scattering. The boy pointed his hand at the mark, and a pillar of fire shot out. The runes on the stone tablet glowed with an azure-blue magical aura, and the fire lost not a single bit of its intensity.
"Very talented! Very talented!"
The Dark Elf nodded, then looked at Simon. The Troll shook his head, saying nothing.
"Don't you want to join the College?"
"Not yet. I have other matters to attend to."
"No pressure," Faralda said, understanding, then smiled at the boy, "Please follow me, apprentice. Once inside the College, one of our High Mages will give you a tour, arrange your room, and take care of your daily needs."
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