Simon chopped off the bear paw and put it into a small pouch. It was only when he felt his inner pocket that he realized he hadn't drunk two bottles of mead. He had originally planned to have a drink with Jonas at the academy entrance, but now they might be good for offerings at the altar.
There were sparse mountain flowers by the roadside, trembling in the ice and snow. Simon picked a large bouquet of them; they were colorful and charming. Holding the flowers and clutching the mead, he walked up the ramp.
Looking up to the right, he could see the towering and majestic Horn Peak, its sharp and frightening form discouraging prolonged glances. He focused on walking with his head down. The biting wind was as heavy as a wall, scattering the ice and snow on the ground, revealing large areas of lifeless, gray-black rock. Jagged rocks on both sides sheltered some wind-dried withered grass. Simon walked sideways, trying to shield the flowers with his robe. The mountain wind was merciless, disregarding the beautiful new life of the world; petals had already scattered into the long sky, unrecoverable, and those remaining on the branches needed careful protection.
Jonas stood behind Simon, at least not blown over by the wind.
After ascending the slope, they reached a saddle between two mountains, where a high arch spanned both ends, standing proudly like a third peak.
After passing through the archway, a shrill goat's cry came from the wind. Simon turned and handed the bouquet to Jonas, then rushed over to investigate. An Icefield Wolf was hunting; other than that, there was no unusual scent of wild beasts in the wind.
The successful wolf was unwilling to give up the scrawny, old goat in its mouth. The Troll didn't intend to argue with it, but it was somewhat in the way. Simon played the role of a villain, rushing over to scare it away, then tossing the goat's corpse far away, letting it retrieve it itself.
Before passing the arch, the mountain peak on the left was still shrouded in ice fog. Now, for some unknown reason, a sudden strong wind had dispersed the mist, instantly clearing the view. A gap also appeared in the clouds above, and golden light shone down on the mountaintop, illuminating Azura's tall statue with an elegant silhouette.
Further on was a downhill slope. The destination was the mountaintop, but the path was always winding. First, they went down a section, then climbed up a rugged mountain slope. At this moment, the wind and snow had subsided, making it a good time to climb.
Jonas, seeing Simon's rather eager demeanor, assumed he had faith in this Prince of Dusk and Dawn. However, Simon was merely unable to resist the urge to see such religious architecture.
Azura's statue gradually rose into view, standing about six hundred feet tall. Its stony gray-white surface showed wear and cracks, but this did not diminish its grandeur in the slightest. She wore a graceful, well-fitting Greek-style robe, her posture natural, her body slightly turned to the east, her head facing south. Her left hand held a sun disk radiating eight light patterns, raised above her head, while her right hand held a crescent moon disk, raised above her shoulder. Silk drapery hung from both wrists, falling to her waist where it split, one section connecting to her dress, the other falling to the ground.
Azura's statue had a slender yet full figure, subtly embodying a benevolent maternity. Her face was also complete, and her gaze firm, seemingly capable of bestowing infinite strength upon people.
"Wow." Even before seeing the altar, merely gazing at such breathtaking carving had already left Jonas speechless.
Walking up the broken, rocky dirt path, they finally saw the altar. It was a stacked structure built on a four-sided square platform. Adapting to the terrain, it was added from east to west, without a central axis, but each platform's four sides faced the four cardinal directions—southeast, northwest—presenting a sense of order. The stone steps were on the west side of the altar, without handrails, turning twice to reach the top of the altar.
A priestess was standing before a long offering table, praying. She wore a patched mage's robe, with many coarse stitches on her hood. Her back view looked desolate and bleak, and the offering table was empty except for a Candlelight.
The wind here was gentle, and the Candlelight flickered, though small, it burned brightly, wax tears flowing down its body, creating a strange, curtain-like form.
The priestess praised the great Azura in Dunmer, her language elegant as a song. Although he didn't understand it, it was particularly ritualistic.
It was a familiar feeling for Simon.
Dark clouds gathered once more.
Snowflakes hit their robes haphazardly with the northwest wind. The priestess's voice was neither hysterical nor low and suppressed; it was simply a loud, straightforward speech that concluded.
He patted Jonas on the head, signaling him to place the bouquet on the offering table.
The priestess turned her head, revealing a Dark Elf's face beneath her hood.
The priestess nodded to Jonas, then said to Simon, "(In imperial language) Fate has guided you here, Azura's Champion."
The Troll remained silent.
"Long before you were born, I foresaw you leading this boy up the steps. I must say, both of you will be extraordinary people. Great Azura granted me the ability to foresee the future, yet even I cannot fully see the mists of destiny that shroud you both—but that matters not. What matters is that you are the key to solving the problem."
Jonas asked curiously, "What problem?"
"Azura's artifact, lost to the world, has been desecrated by a mage. I need you to retrieve it."
At that moment, Simon almost hallucinated a quest notification sound. Of course, there wasn't one, but this strong sense of déjà vu certainly left him speechless.
I'm not the Dragonborn protagonist, why are you relying on me?
Jonas's eyes lit up upon hearing such a mission-oriented task, and he immediately wanted to accept, but Simon stopped him.
"Later, I'm very busy these days and still need to study. This mead is for Azura, goodbye." The Troll placed the mead on the offering table and pulled the Breton Boy away.
The priestess called out behind them, "The arrangements of destiny are irresistible; you will ultimately fulfill the will of the gods!"
"Thanks for the reminder." The Troll turned and nodded to her.
Simon added a note to his memo: [Miscellaneous]: Help Azura find her lost item when there's an opportunity.
Of course, he didn't mind helping a Daedric Prince, especially since Azura was a relatively gentle one, but he really had no time right now.
Studying was important.
After seeing the open-air temple, Simon found a sheltered spot and had Jonas practice sword fighting, as usual, whittling a wooden branch for him to use.
Then that wooden branch was used to spank the Breton Boy's backside.
"Nonsense! I taught you to stand in a horse stance, to practice Standing Meditation. When you get back to the academy, practice for an hour every morning before reading."
"But it's really tiring, sir."
Simon pondered for a moment and slowly said, "I don't want to preach too many grand principles to you, because anyone can say them. You just need to know that for some things you're not good at, it's best to listen to the advice of experts."
"Oh."
"Let's go, back to the tavern, for dinner."
"Is it almost evening? Time flies so fast?"
"There's a saying that happy times are always short, and it's true."
"..."
"What do you want for dinner?"
"..."
"Why aren't you speaking?"
"...Sir, does everyone in the world have to part ways?"
"Who taught you to say that?"
"I thought of it myself! Don't change the subject!"
"Haha, meeting and parting is a cycle, just like the changing seasons. You just have to adapt."
"It's always spring when I'm with you."
"I know." Simon laughed heartily, "Have you thought about what to eat?"
"No, I can't think of anything."
"Alright, I'll make you something delicious."
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