WINTERHOLD

1

Marcus felt hands grabbing him roughly and binding his hands behind his back. They forced him to his knees.

"Really? I was visiting-"

The leader back handed him. "We don't care." And laughed.

Marcus spat blood from his mouth. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

The leader was towering over him, his dark hair falling over his eyes. The two other men were searching him to find his possessions. They found his coin purse and a book.

"You a bloody librarian or something?" One guy laughed.

"Oh. I wouldn't open that if I were you."

He got another slap to the face. More blood.

"Since you said that..." The leader joked and opened the book, the other two looking at the book too.

"Alteration?" The leader said in a confused manner.

Marcus, who had his binds off already quickly touched the blood on the ground and raised his hands. Magicka rushed out of his hands like a mighty wind, flinging the three thieves back.

He stood up and brushed his black robes off. "So you made three mistakes. One, you attacked a guy who was in a grave yard, obviously visiting a dead friend or family member which is very rude. Two, you attacked the son of the deceased Thieves Guild Master. And three, my personal favourite, you tried to rob a Mage. I mean are you idiots?"

The three men were standing up slowly, but Marcus raised his hand and forced then to their knees.

"And now I am going to take my stuff back."

He picked up his book and started flicking though the pages. "Which spell should I use on you three?" He laughed. "This one should be fun."

The thieves trembled, unable to move.

"I bet now you were wishing I really was a librarian..."

*

Marcus was glad he was back in Winterhold. Those thieves made him tired. What idiots.

His parents were world class thieves many, many years ago, but they had laid that down and decided to study at the College of Winterhold. His mother was the Thieves Guild Master for 10 years. Marcus on the other hand was born and brought up at the College. He had lived his whole live at the College and had never really liked adventure. He loved his books and everything to do with magic. His parents died a decade ago and were asked in their Will to be buried with their old Thieves Guild companions who died many years before they did. That was all the way back in Riften. Marcus was actually visiting their grave when he was ambushed. He was normally quite good with detecting people around him, but Marcus figured it was because he was focusing on his parents.

He had a power that was quite rare for a mage. He could look into someones eyes and see their past, most times it was if awful things.

Like that thief, Marcus saw him crying with a small girl in his arms and a black robed figure jumping out a window. He guessed it was his daughter or something. He rarely saw something beautiful in someones past, especially in this decade. It seemed things had gotten worse over the years he had lived and he has lived for a long time. Mages lived for many years, like elves, Mages could live for hundreds of years, most grew old and actually looked ancient, but some used spells and magical potions to keep themselves looking young. Marcus however didn't need to do that. His father was an Elf and his mother was a Breton. Being half Elven, he didn't age. He stopped aging when he reached twenty five, which he didn't complain about.