Chapter Text
Onmund sighed dejectedly at the spell tome he was working on. It shouldn't have been too difficult, but his mind wasn't on his studies.
He never should have traded his family amulet to Enthir.
He had thought he would finally try his hand at enchantments, but he was discovering that most mages had the same mistrust of Nords that Nords had of mages, and Urag wouldn't let him check out any books. Enthir had been happy to trade him all the books and soul gems he needed to get started, and all he'd wanted was the sapphire amulet he'd gotten from his mother.
At the time, Onmund had been all too eager to be able to get his hands on the books and gems and to be rid of the reminder of the family who'd all but disowned him, but he'd begun to regret the decision almost as soon as he returned to his room.
It only got worse when he read the introductory books on enchanting and soul gems... he realized he didn't have the stomach for enchanting things after all. Trapping things' souls... it just didn't sit right with him... things like this were why his family and most other Nords never trusted mages. He could almost hear his oldest brother saying "I told you so," in his head.
He'd gone back to Enthir to try and get the amulet back. He'd given the soul gems and books back, and even offered to pay for the amulet on top of that, but the damned elf had just laughed at him.
He said all of his trades were final. Onmund couldn't think of any reason Enthir would even want the amulet that badly, he suspected he just didn't want him to have it back.
If his father and older brothers hadn't been so harsh to him before he left, Onmund might actually be homesick and disgruntled enough to go home... fortunately he couldn't bring himself to suffer the 'I told you so's and the other teasing that would surely follow... or worse.
He honestly wasn't sure if his father had been serious about him not being welcomed back or not...
His mother giving him the family amulet before he left was a decent indication that he would be... likely with the expectation that he'd quit magic of course...
"Nords don't deal in that nonsense," his father would say, "settle down and be a proper man." They never understood that magic wasn't nonsense... that it could be wielded honestly, and honorably...
He did try to forget the magic for a while… but his first shock spell had come as naturally to him as breathing. It felt right, like a natural affinity to something he was meant to wield.
His father had insisted on him being trained in all the proper Nordic weapons as well… telling him that was what he was meant to wield, and honestly, Onmund didn’t disagree. He was good with a great sword, and a hunting bow… but he was just as good with a shock spell in one hand and a short sword in the other.
And he could feel when he cast those simple spells how much more he might be able to do… with some training… some instruction and direction… how much more of that power could he harness?
Onmund had dreamed of studying and learning more magic ever since his first shock spell. His father had belittled his dreams and his brothers made fun of him ever since then too, and Onmund had been so relieved to finally be away from them...
But even still... they were his family... and he was still a Nord.
This whole ordeal with Enthir and then the school expedition to Saarthal had made him realize that his own heritage wasn't something he could just ignore.
Now if only he could work out what to do about it…