"Now for your test scores," Faralda said, smiling over class.

They were in the Ritual Room. The air was frigid, and the students stayed seated in their coats. They lazed, crossing their arms tight over their desks, or huffing warm breaths into their fists. Others were catching up on their sleep, and the mention of the test had roused them up.

Faralda walked over to the lectern, and thumbed through a stack of paper, "Most of you had done well, and as I've promised, I'll return them. Remember, this is your last test. Next is your final exam which will cover everything, so make sure to study everything."

She called up their names one at a time, and students, one at a time, dragged themselves out of their seats and walked to her. Some glanced at it, others didn't bother, but they all thanked her in their own ways, and hurried out the door.

When it came to the final student,"Brennus," she said, Faralda behaved a little differently.

Brennus, all alone in the corner, swayed his head up. Lines of sleep had indented his skin red. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and blinked quick in disbelief, like an infant in a crib. He slid out of his chair and walked over to her. He went to take it, but Faralda pulled the paper back and didn't let him have it, "Wait."

He blinked a bit more, "...what?"

Faralda gave his test back. She looked to the lectern and pulled out the sheet that recorded the total grades for the entire class.

He crept over, "Yes professor?"

Her quill travelled along the row from his name to his test score. "20%", she said, "20%, so with your 32% in the last test; you'll need:" She threw her fingers up in the air. Her nails, painted and sharp, began to inscribe floating numbers. They glowed blue and neat. She did some quick calculations. Divide, multiply, subtract, carry, "You'll need 94% on your final exam to pass." She dropped her hand and the numbers faded.

He smiled, nervous, but playful. He shook his head, "Just 94%?"

He was by far the worst student in her class. He was the one who risked dragging the class average down to the 50s, and because she had a reputation as a difficult professor, Faralda disliked it deeply. "Usually, I tell students who are in similar circumstances that it might be better if they drop out of my course early and focus on their other classes."

"What?" He said. He looked like a mess. A slacker. He was a nord, and his hair was greasy and frayed every which way. He ran his fingers through his hair, and the strands drooped when he dropped his hand down, "I can't."

"Sometimes when a limb is necrotic, it's better to saw it off."

"But I can't," he said, "I understand what you're saying, but I don't have much of a choice. I can't just give up."

"You should. You're likely to fail my course, so I think it's in your best interest to focus on others that are important to you."

He began to get teary eyed, "I can't. This one is important to me," he said. It annoyed her a bit, because it wasn't important to him, clearly. He would've paid attention if it was. Brennus shook his head, "I'll try, professor. I'll get my act together."

Faralda blinked away her frustration, and sighed. She wasn't so cruel as to push a man off a cliff if he didn't want to jump, "If you're going to try, you're going to try."

"I will, I will."

She was unconvinced. She fixed her papers on her lectern, "I leave my office door open for students to visit and ask questions. If you're the kind of student who needs someone to watch over you while you study, then come by. Study. Who knows? I may even give you a bonus."

"I guess I am that kind of person." He chuckled, trying to tease out her approval, "But um, okay. When are your hours?"

"It's on the syllabus. Weekday evenings. This evening."

"Okay, okay." He walked away, "See ya, Professor."

She eyed him till he left the door, out to the Hall of the Elements. She shook her head and sighed.

That evening, Faralda made it to her office. She walked in with a bowl of jeweled millet. Steaming. She kicked the door closed and sat herself down for the evening. There she prepared lecture notes for a more advanced class. She did it, pouring through sheets of notes while wiping her lips, and sipping a bottle of honey beer.

A knock came at the door. She waved her hand. The door clicked open on its own and swayed a little out.

"U-uh," Brennus said outside.

Faralda looked up. She was surprised to see him. She covered her mouth with her hand. "Come in," she said, then chewed on.

Brennus crept in with his backpack behind him. "Hey," he said, and looked around, studying the office. His eyes were wide. It must've looked exotic to him with the schrarers, and the decorative stanes.

She washed down her food with the honey beer and ran her tongue over teeth. She set her bowl aside. "You came," she said, "I admire the aptitude. Take a seat."

He nodded, and moved in the jilts and jolts of a movement watched. He scootched the chair closer, and banged his knee against the desk. "Oh! Ow. Sorry."

"It's fine," She chuckled, "Relax. I'm not going to kill you. If you have any questions dear, just ask."

There was a blush in his cheeks, but he nodded. He took out his textbook from his bag, and set it down on the desk. The textbook was old and stained. Threads loosely bound the spine, and the cover was torn. Used, she thought. He began to read.

Faralda sought to ignore him for his sake, and returned to her work. She reviewed through some textbooks. She got into her rhythm, but she kept being interrupted by a peeve. She noticed that Brennus read in a very strange way in that he simply read the book.

Faralda was no deep judge on how students study, but the way he bounced his eyes from line to line, and word to word, then flipped a page to do the same. It annoyed her. That wasn't studying at all. She tried to get over it, but Faralda was neurotic. "How goes the studying?" she said.

"Good. I guess. It's pretty easy."

"What is the fundamental process by which frost spells function?" Faralda said, and turned to him. Brennus furrowed his brow and tried to think, but ultimately, only shook his head confused. She gestured to his textbook, "You just read it."

"Oh," He flipped a page back and scanned the page, and then flipped it back and scanned another page, "Found it. It says 'Frost magic is facilitated by the exchange of heat, which notes to its difference towards fire magic, primarily based on combus--'"

"That's enough. Why didn't you remember that?" She tilted her head.

He looked nervous, frozen. A boy being scolded, he crossed his arms over the desk, "I don't know. Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did."

She eased her glare, a little guilty, "No. This is just how I talk. I'm being facetious. The answer to my question is: you're not studying. How do you usually study for your exams?"

"I read."

"Yes, that isn't studying at all." Faralda said, "Here, try to underline it at least," She pulled out a pencil, and stood up. She hovered her pencil over, searching for the sentence to underline.

Brennus threw his hand over the page. "W-wait! I borrowed this from the Arcaneum!"

Faralda stopped. She shook her head, "Why don't you have your own book?"

"They're too expensive," he said. "I can just borrow, it's no big deal."

"But it's a worthwhile expense."

"So is food, I think."

She tried to not smile. "Very well, then." She stepped to her bookshelf, and slid out an extra copy of the textbook, Elementary Destruction. It was as good as new. She handed it to him, "This is yours if you make it yours. Otherwise, it'll stay mine."

"Oh no." He said, nervous and laughing, "It's fine."

"Nonsense. It's hard to study from a book that isn't yours," She set the Arcaneum's book aside, and placed his new book in place. "Open it to where you were reading," she said. He flipped the pages until he returned to where they were. She handed him the pencil, "Now underline what's important to you."

He looked around the page, and then underlined a sentence, "This one's pretty good."

"It is. Underlining helps engage your mind with the words. It also makes it much quicker to revisit the important parts."

"But it feels as if I'm desecrating the book."

"Because you are. This is a book, and you are an animate creation. Torture it, scratch it, punish it for keeping its knowledge from you. Look how it looks just like the others. It isn't yours, you make it yours. If it's uninteresting, you make it interesting. After all, it's just a book." She smiled at him.

A shy, fearful smile returned, "I'll try."

"Good boy." She went to return to her work, glancing at him ever so often. He was doing good work, diligently underlining words and thinking about what he was reading.

An hour later, Brennus looked up at her, "Hey, I finished the chapter," he said, and swung the book around to show her.

She looked in, "Oh." Indeed, he underlined through every page. It was about fifty pages, impressive to do in an hour. She looked up at him, "What are the three mechanisms of heat transfer?"

"O-oh. Um," He looked back at the book, "I know convection. Crap, um." He began to flip chunks through the textbook, "Ah, aha! Oh wait-- Um," He flipped a few pages more, "Here it is, convection, conduction, and radiation. Did I get it right?"

"Not for a test," Faralda said, "I'm impressed you underlined it all in an hour. But it's just one of a variety of ways to study. Here," She showed him how to write in the margins of a book, "There are various types of ways to mark a book that move beyond underlining. First, is the summary. You can note the overall structure of the book on the sides, making landmarks." And she told him the various forms of other annotations. "A gloss is a definition, while a clarification is a more thorough explanation of difficult content. A reference is where you note a relationship to another work. When you read more, you'll either confer, disagree, or consult another work. That is when you truly master the conversation."

"When did you learn to do this?" he said, blinking.

"Marking? When I was young, I suppose. My father used to mark his books, but it's fundamental to everyone, you learn to do it as you learn more."

"I see." He looked aside, and nodded. He leaned against her arm, "I like this."

"Good, because I want you to go through your textbook and decorate the book with what I taught you. Make it more than it is." She tapped her fingers on the page.

He continued on like that until midnight, and returned tomorrow to do it again. Over the days, he worked on the book that way. His spirit was sharp, and passionate. Faralda couldn't help but warm to him, seeing him come in, and focus for hours on the book. He grew less and less shy, and showed him a charming young man. He spoke, and joked. He took and played to Faralda's grim sense of humour, and it made the evening office hours something to look forward to.

One evening, finally, Brennus revealed his accomplishment. He sat down, pulled out his textbook, and handed it to her. She checked it. She saw his development, how he extended it with his own scribbles; the underlines, and the comments. A topography of his mind, melded, and formed to the ink. All his quirks. She looked at him, "This is wonderful." She flipped through, smiling. "I'm very proud."

He grinned till his cheeks were red, and huffed, scratching the back of his head. "Thanks."

She glanced up at him and smiled with him, "That made you happy?."

He crossed his arms over the desk, "Yea. I didn't think I'd be able to read it all. Thanks for helping me."

"Why didn't you learn to read like this before? Everybody marks their books."

He looked at her and lost his smile. He shook his head, "I guess I never knew. The only books I got were from libraries. And my parents are miners, my family's not too educated. My father actually didn't really want me to study here, but I convinced him I can help with mining if I knew a bit of magic."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"I guess, but I don't really care. I love magic," he said, "And knowing things. Knowing how everything works. I love destruction magic especially. But it doesn't matter. It's why I need to pass. If my father asks how well I've done, or he learns I failed a course, he'll just ask me to come back home."

"Then why are you doing so poorly with an incentive like that?"

"I don't know. I don't know this kind of place. I don't know what I'm doing. Nobody talks to people around here, they just do things. Nobody told me anything."

She looked away, unsure of how to answer. She then looked back, "It's difficult, and cold here. But that's the world. Nobody will tell you anything. You have to do it for yourself." She flipped through his book a little more. Faralda felt, and this is the truth, that Brennus simply had to get over it. But she wasn't cruel enough to say it, so she tried her best, "There are other things I can teach you, that can help."

"I'm all for it."

She showed him then how to keep a notebook, and take notes; how to write his own questions from the book. She told him the importance of not missing a lecture, and so on and so forth. Every day he came and did better and did more. Adding to the book, filling his notebook. She taught him to pay attention to the "further reading" sections, and the fun in "further reading" things. It was all going so well.

A week before the exam, Faralda was in her office. She left the door slightly ajar for Brennus to come in. She tapped her foot, and expected Brennus to knock his soft knock, but he hadn't. The minutes stretched into hours, and she eyed the clock. He was absent. Why? She didn't know. A doting kind of nerve, dull, ached her stomach. She tried to ease her mind off it by focusing on her work, but her thoughts trailed to the clock. Maybe he slept in, or was sick? She tongued the feather of her quill. He'd tell her if he gave up, no? She eventually had to accept that she couldn't guess the reason.

But when Brennus didn't come the next day either, the nervousness was felt twice more. He had skipped her class, so she wasn't able to corner him and interrogate as to his missing. When he hadn't shown up for the third day, she started snooping. She went to a breton who sat beside him, who used to speak to him sporadically in class, and asked him.

"No idea," he said.

"Aren't you his friend?"

He frowned and shook his head, "I don't think he has any. Want me to tell him you asked?"

Faralda blinked, wondering. "No no, it's fine," she said, and walked away.

After classes had finished, she decided to look in the Arcaneum next. Plenty of students were there studying during the evening, filling up the chairs and tables in a deep silence. Brennus was nowhere to be seen there, not among the groups, or the few lone stragglers studying at the edges. She walked over to Urag. Urag was standing at attention at the counter, eyes shooting from group to group, like a dog ready to bark. He glanced at her, nodding, but kept his attention strictly to the students.

"Hey, have you seen a student?" Faralda said.

"Who?"

"Brennus. Nord. Young. Blonde hair. He wears a hood often."

"Yea, I know him, he's usuall-- No eating in the Arcaneum!" He said, and smacked the counter.

A girl yelped, and put a cracker back into her backpack, "Sorry, sir." She said, "Sorry."

"Your only warning. Next time, you'll be expelled."

"Sorry," the girl said. She turned to her friends, whispering, "How did he even spot that?"

Urag shook his head in disgust.

Faralda patted the counter to get his attention, "So did you see Brennus?"

Urag looked at her, nodding, "Yea, he comes by here and stays all night. Why? He your student?"

"Yes." She said, sighing, "He's been absent. I thought he left the school. Don't tell him anything."

"Mm, yea okay." He nodded.

Back in her office, Faralda mulled on what to do next. She could leave it alone, and let him fail, but she also felt quite hurt that he would so easily give up on his own studies, after she had tried to give him so much. Indeed, she would at least ask as to why he would abandon her studies. He stole her book, and her advice, as far as she was concerned, and didn't even bother to apologize. By midnight, her pride had dripped and soaked her soul. She stood up and grabbed her coat.

She marched her way to the Arcaneum through the cold, and entered. She scanned the tables. There he was, Brennus, in the edges of the room with a lamp on this table. She marched over.

When he spotted her, his eyes widened, "O-oh. Professor Faralda."

Faralda crossed her arms, and stopped by him. She thought to scold him, but she turned concerned instead when she got a look at him: Dark bags covered his eyes, and his hair was a dirty, greasy mess. Flakes and food stains had covered his robes, and she could see smears of oil in their folds. He had a stamina concoction beside him, and a book on blast magic was on the table, filled with writing and annotations, even drawings. He looked like he hadn't slept in days; with his eyes wide to death, and blinking hard. His head and hands twitched, he took in a deep breath, "Hey, sorry," he said, "I was going to see you, sorry."

"You should've told me you'd given up," Faralda said, "It's very rude to keep people waiting. A senior wizard, especially."

He began to stammer, shaking his head at every odd word, "I-I didn't. I didn't give up. It's just; look, I have obligations to my family. And I must meet these obligations, this entire thing-- It's a joke. So I'm just, listen, I'll do it. I don't care anymore, I'll still do it," he said a little loud.

Faralda furrowed her brow and put her hand out, "Shh, it's alright, I was teasing." She glanced at Urag, who was not so subtly eavesdropping. She returned her focus to Brennus, "But why are you studying blast magic? Your finals are a week away. If you don't want to study for my class, you're welcome to come and study for others. I'm not to judge."

He blinked hard, and sniffled. His eyes were still wide, he rubbed them, "Mfmmsh."

"Are you on skooma?"

He squinted at her, "What? No. I didn't sleep." He rubbed his eye.

"Why?"

He teared up. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it swallowing his spit. He suckled his lip after.

Faralda took that time to grab a chair and set it near his, "What's wrong?" she said, sitting with him.

He blinked back his tears, "I got a letter from my father."

"Oh."

"He'll no longer be sending money. He doesn't care what I get. He wants me back in Dawnstar. I'm a bit stressed. I was thinking of convincing him."

"I see." She looked aside, taking in a deep breath, and letting it out, "We can figure out a way."

"Yea, if I learned blast magic, I can start helping them. It's this idea I have, and also searching out new prospects to help my family. I can find a few prospects out in Hjaalmarch that were abandoned, there are a bunch of them, along the mountains, and devise a way to extract the gold. I have all I need, right. Like I'm smart, it's so easy to do this, so I just need to learn enough, and then make a lot of money. Make a lot of money, then I can come back later to continue and, like, help my parents with their money issues and..."

He rambled on and on about this scheme to start his own mine in Hjaalmarch. Mind you, any mining operation in the 4th era requires, almost at minimum, the expertise of not just blast magicians, but metal-workers, rockcrafters, architects, alchemists, etc. The amount of things one must know; ventilation engineering, waterwheel construction, furnace construction, even something as mundane as the placement of these things requires expertise, and is far more than any person can be capable of. It was quite a thing.

"...and so that's why I'm studying this, because I have to," he said, "I know it sounds crazy, but I think it can work, because they don't employ that much magicians, I can exploit that. It's insane, I know. Like, I'm insane, yes. But I can't not do this."

Faralda raised her eyebrows, "Do you know anyone willing to invest in your scheme?"

"No, not yet. That's the easy part."

Faralda stayed silent for a moment. She tilted her head, "Do you know any architects? Metallurgists? Mining directors?"

"No, but-- I can ask," After that he went quiet quickly, opening to continue, but he shook his head. "I know what you're thinking."

Faralda took in a deep breath, and sighed, "Dear, if money is a problem, why don't you take a job for the college. Many students do. Or we can find you a job at Winterhold, I'm sure."

"I tried. I'm not good with jobs. But yea, I guess so. I don't know."

"Focus, one at a time, on what matters right now. Don't be carried away by phantoms."

He nodded, looking away. Shame crossed him, "I know."

"You seem sleep deprived. So how about you go and rest. Come meet me tomorrow during office hours, and we can try again."

He was struck quiet, hanging his head low, and down over his notebook. She saw in it a great deal of creativity, and intelligence. Drawings, answers, equations, highlighted, bolded. She saw commentary, and thought. It was a shameful thing, and she kept her arms crossed. She was embarrassed for him, and wanted to raise a towel to hide his shame.

He nodded, ultimately, "You're right." He rubbed his eye, a tear or two left him. He began to pack up his things. "Good night professor," he said.

"Good night."

He left, and she hung back to think. She couldn't think much, other than a worry that she won't see him again tomorrow, and that she was too harsh on him.

The next day, she taught her classes. Brennus didn't come to class. Afterwards, she returned to her office and didn't carry too much hope. Until a knock came. She looked up, and the door widened. It was Brennus.

She perked up, "Hello."

His hair was fixed, and his robes were new and clean. He smiled at her, "Hey," he said, "I wanted to say sorry for yesterday. I wasn't in my right mind. I was awake for like 2 days--"

"It's fine, dear. Stress gets to the best of us. I'm just happy you're here." She helped him in, and they both sat, and studied on as they did before.

He returned to his charming self, smirking and smiling right. Teasing her. Surprising her by the speed of his learning. He could wade through a chapter an hour there, and would come out well. And he came back, day after day, to brighten her evening with his presence. Young, hopeful. She lost her fears that he may miss another day, he'd come to all her final classes, and all her office hours.

Finally, when the exam arrived, Faralda administered it, cowing the students into a room. She walked through the rows of desks, and gave them each of their exams one by one, "Good luck. Good luck." When she came across Brennus, she gave him a smile brighter and a tone softer than the others, "Good luck." He smiled back, "Thanks."

He got a 92% on his final test, shy of the 94% he needed. No matter, she bumped it up to 95% when adding the 3% participation bonus for all those times he came in during office hours, as she promised.

She was able to tell him during the start of holidays what he received, he was quite proud of himself, and that made her proud. And as to his financial concerns? She learned he had found part-time work with the Jarl.

Faralda thought things went well. Next semester, she was finishing up a class.

"Ms. Faralda." He said.

"Brennus." She smiled warmly, "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering, is it still okay if I can come to study during your office hours?" He said, "Even if I'm not your student?"

Faralda smiled strange, "Why? Are you struggling again?"

"A little bit." He said, "It's a nice place to hangout."

Her heart hurt, "I'm sorry. It's not right to do if you aren't my student. I'd be giving preferential treatment otherwise. You can always ask your other professors, I'm sure they'll enjoy your company as much as I did."

"They're not as kind as you are." He said, giving a flat smile, "But that's alright. Arcaneum's useful that way. Thanks anyways." He gave her a curt wave, and walked out the door.

Faralda didn't see much of Brennus after that. He had moved onto his Journeyman studies, and since she never taught Journeymen courses, she never really saw him. When she did see him, it was only a courtesy hello, and how do you do. He always said he was fine, but Faralda could see that something in his spirit was very tired. Faralda didn't know just how much until spring.

There was a great commotion in the courtyard, just before dawn. The guards had been knocking on the courtyard gates. Other senior wizards and professors had gathered around, talking and mumbling. From the gossip, someone had dropped from the college windows, down to sea. They didn't know what, but others guessed it was another suicide.

Faralda shuffled through the crowd, nodding to others when they said "shameful thing", and "get it cleaned before the other students wake up". She made it to the front and saw the body in the cart. Lazily thrown in, and rigid.

She froze, and her face went pale.

It was Brennus.