First, they went down the mountain to the coast, passing through a pile of woods along the way. Torine watched with great surprise as Jonas quickly leaped across the uneven logs.
"Hey! Boy! What are you doing?"
Jonas steadied himself, turned his head, and saw the Troll standing with a beautiful blonde woman. He raised his hand and waved, greeting them.
Simon also raised his hand in response. Torine asked again, "What are you doing?"
"Exercising!" Jonas drew out the last syllable, his words sounding like a theatrical song.
Torine was amused by his sarcastic tone and wrapped an arm around Simon's back. Of course, she had aimed for his shoulder, but she was too short and her arms too short. What a pity. It was supposed to be a brotherly embrace, but now it looked more like a small bird leaning on its companion.
Jonas cleared his throat and began to sing a slow, lyrical ballad.
"Hey! Beautiful girl!
"It's been a long time since I saw you,
"Your charming figure
"Intoxicates me to death.
"But all love has its hardships.
"And all hardships bring pain…"
Torine's laughter grew more unrestrained. She could barely stand, leaning against the Troll's broad arm. Her eyes narrowed, curving into clear, crescent moons, and a faint reflection shone from the slight opening of her eyelids, illuminating a desolate desert in one's heart.
Simon shook his head and waved Jonas over. The boy flipped down, his agile figure at such a young age making Torine's eyes light up. "What a talented kid! Do you want to come with me to Solitude and join the army?"
Simon quickly said, "He's so young, still an ignorant child. Don't talk about joining the army!"
Jonas looked up, meeting the gaze of the tall Nord woman. "I heard there's a Bards College in Solitude?"
"Of course! Everyone there is so interesting. Girls follow them to the taverns every day, hahaha! Kid, you should become a bard too! Girls love them!"
Jonas's face immediately filled with longing. This precocious look gave Simon a headache. He patted his head, "Practice hard, don't think about useless things. Go on, I'll come check your skills later!"
"Where are you going?"
"The prison. Want to come?" Simon tried to scare him.
"Yes!" Jonas's eyes lit up.
Torine reached out and rubbed the boy's cheek. "Little one, don't be interested in prisons. Be careful not to go astray later!"
"Oh—" Jonas looked up. "Hehe, I know, you two are going on a secret date, aren't you? Hmph! I have to follow you to stop you from doing bad things!"
Simon slapped the back of his own head. He truly had a headache. "What in the world did you learn in the College, you rascal!"
Torine picked up the boy and hugged him close. "This little fellow is still a scamp! Let's go!"
Heading north, as they rounded the pile of woods, Torine asked in a serious tone, "Is this one of those Mage's things?"
"Yes."
"Ah." Torine, influenced by the people of Winterhold, also had a slight apprehension towards Mages, but she wouldn't criticize Simon's thoughts.
They walked slowly, chatting, and Simon learned a lot about the urban ecology of Solitude from Torine. As the capital and political center of Skyrim, it wasn't as bustling as Whiterun, but it was exceptionally lively. In the city, two types of soldiers could be seen: Imperial garrisons and local Guards, distinguishable by their clothing and insignia.
Famous buildings in the city included the Blue Palace, the Bards College, and Castle Dour. The Blue Palace housed the High King and Queen of Skyrim. This High King was chosen by a Grand Council of all the Jarls, but because the Imperial presence in Skyrim was primarily stationed in Solitude, the High King often also served as the Jarl of Solitude, which had become an unwritten rule.
Solitude's sewers were a complex system, with spacious interiors, rumored to hide much darkness that couldn't see the light of day. The Guards always advised residents not to venture into the underground pipes out of curiosity, and they themselves rarely entered. The environment there was comparable to The Rift's underground Ratways, only less famous. Unless one was a long-term resident of the city, they would likely never hear of such a place.
"Foodie, have you thought about what you want to do in the future?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell us?" Torine and Jonas simultaneously perked up their ears, though their eyes pretended to wander indifferently.
"Explore knowledge, do some easy work, travel Skyrim…"
"How inspiring! A grand dream." Torine exclaimed.
"Is it grand?"
"It's romantic!" Jonas shouted.
Simon shook his head and said no more. Of course, he wanted to do more than just these things. It was simply that he wouldn't say things that were beyond normal comprehension in public. Besides being sensational, it served no purpose.
Arriving at the coast, standing at this angle and looking northwest, the high walls of the Mage College stood majestically like a mountain. The isolated island beneath it, like an inverted circular platform, made one feel a thrill of fear, afraid that the island's cone would shatter and the massive castle would fall into the sea.
"The Great Collapse back then was sudden. The College was originally on the surface. If you look north, those broken islands, they were all once land. Now only sand and stone remain." Torine spoke of this terrifying past with a light tone. People's memories of pain fade, let alone pain passed down through generations. Some blamed the College, believing them to be the culprits, thus passing down hatred. Over sixty years have passed, the old generation in Winterhold has all died out, but the emotion of revenge still thrives in this decaying city. Jarl Collier is the best example.
Simon did not respond to such words, but Jonas let out a rather sympathetic sigh.
There was a small wooden boat by the sea. The three of them were quite cramped after getting in. Simon sat in the belly of the boat, Jonas at the bow, and Torine at the stern.
Two wooden oars gently swayed, carrying them across the sea to the north.
Simon softly sang, "Let us paddle our oars…" slowly, lowly, not joyful, but sufficiently melodious.
How long had it been since he last spoke his hometown's language? The wanderer's song, no one understood it, but the wanderer's heart could bring tears to one's eyes.
"Is that a song from your hometown?" Torine's eyes sparkled, as if containing a summer.
"Yes."
Jonas turned his head, looking at the calm nearshore on the clear morning. Broken icebergs and reefs blocked the wind and waves. Aside from the heavy snow clouds, it was a good day.
The boy suddenly pointed into the distance. On the horizon, there was a lone boat, a black silhouette vaguely showing a person rowing, with a long beard hanging from his chin.
"What is that person doing?"
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Want to go see?"
The boy and the woman both said "Yes" in unison. They smiled, full of innocent curiosity.
-------------------------------
I've already uploaded 70 chapters of this story on Patreon!
If you enjoy it, come check out the latest chapters in advance.
Here's the link:
[patreon.com/Greyhounds]
Thank you so much for your support!!
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"