Late the next night, on the frozen surface of the Sea of Ghosts beneath the College of Winterhold…
Nidnia quietly unfolded her wings.
Most of her injuries had healed.
For a dragon, wounds like yesterday's were nothing with enough rest.
"I refuse to believe you can catch me this time."
She did not want to spend her existence as a human's mount.
After two failures, she had finally identified the flaw in her previous escape attempts.
Rowan Mercer's terrifying speed relied on solid ground.
So she would remove the ground.
With a powerful beat of her wings, Nidnia shot westward over the endless black water.
No cliffs.
No mountains.
No stones to throw.
Just open sea.
Rowan could run fast, but he couldn't leap across an ocean forever.
And even if he could swim fast enough to keep up, what would he use to knock her down?
If she succeeded, she would hide on some distant island, sleep for a few centuries, and emerge long after the human had turned to dust.
At the same time, within the Arch-Mage's private quarters, Rowan sat across from Savos Aren, deep in discussion about the underlying structure of magic.
Rather than rushing to learn spells, Rowan focused on principles.
Spells could be copied.
Principles could be adapted.
Once he fully understood how magic functioned in this world, everything else would follow naturally.
Savos had originally agreed out of courtesy.
But hours passed.
Then more.
Rowan absorbed every explanation with frightening speed and frequently offered perspectives that forced Savos to rethink assumptions he had held for decades.
What began as instruction slowly became true academic exchange.
Then Rowan paused.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Arch-Mage, it's late. You should rest."
Savos glanced at the clock and startled.
"So it is… I haven't lost track of time like this in years."
Rowan stood.
"My mount is attempting another escape. I'll deal with it. We can continue tomorrow."
Savos watched him leave with complicated feelings.
Inviting Rowan into the College might prove to be the greatest decision of his career.
Rowan climbed to the highest platform of the College.
"Little Blue," he murmured. "I'm coming."
He leapt.
As the dark ocean rushed up, Rowan extended his hand.
"Frostbite."
A massive sheet of ice spread across the water.
He landed, jumped again, froze another platform, and continued.
Step.
Freeze.
Jump.
Crack.
Shatter.
Advance.
Across the Sea of Ghosts, Rowan bounded from ice sheet to ice sheet, closing in on the fleeing dragon.
Nidnia glanced back and nearly screamed.
"He can do that too?!"
Her only comfort was the empty horizon.
At least there were no rocks for him to throw.
Then Rowan jumped straight at her.
Nidnia shrieked and swerved aside.
She avoided him.
Barely.
Relief surged.
Then Rowan exhaled sharply.
The air detonated behind him, launching his body sideways like a cannonball.
Nidnia's eyes bulged.
Before she could react—
"Sparks."
Lightning exploded outward.
For three full seconds, electricity poured into Nidnia's body.
Her scales blackened.
Her muscles locked.
She dropped from the sky like a scorched carcass.
Twenty minutes later, a far more obedient Nidnia carried Rowan back to the ice shelf beneath the College.
Her injuries were worse than before.
And her two beautiful crystal-blue horns were gone.
Snapped off.
Nidnia lay on the ice, trembling.
"If other dragons see me like this… I'll never live it down…"
Rowan held the broken horns in one hand.
"Twice is a warning."
His voice was calm.
"There will not be a third time."
"If you try again, I won't stop at breaking horns. I will erase your soul."
Nidnia pressed her head to the ice.
"I understand."
She did.
Completely.
...
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