The night is still young. Study a bit of both

You crack open Obliviates tattered twin first, careful not to let any of the stained pages slip free of the worn binding. Judging by its age, a simple gust of wind would leave its contents strewn across the room. Aside from the first page, which bore a faded rose in crimson ink, the rest of the tome was a swathe of illegible scrawls and nonsensical diagrams. Either the delusions of a wretched sot, or someone's elaborate idea of a joke.

Obliviate on the other hand, was standard fare: gestures, incantations and magicka control techniques. Yet an hour long exercise in analysis and mimicry later, all you could conjure was a faint shadow of the sphere that the tome described.

Perhaps a break will sharpen your waning concentration.

***

You drained the last of the complimentary spiced wine that stood on the empty chest at the foot of the bed. The burning sensation that accompanied its short journey gave you renewed hope in your arcane struggle.

That, or you were just too drunk to notice you picked up the wrong book as you flopped back onto the furs.

Stark Reality. Novice alteration. A small taste of chaos...

The tome you'd previously considered a ripoff- even though you'd gotten it for free- was suddenly as legible as any other.

Figures...only a drunk could decipher what resembled the ramblings of one.

Liquid courage blinded you to the possible consequences as you easily replicated the simple techniques the spell involved, eyes shut to orient yourself against the room's sickening spinning.

Warmth that had nothing to do with the wine swirling in the pit of your stomach coursed through your body, compelling you to open your eyes and break the trance.

Nothing had changed...or at least, that's what you thought, until a timely draft that slipped through the door slats alerted to you to the fact that you were stark naked.

"YAH!" you burst out, scrambling frantically to reclaim your modesty. Fortunately, your panic was brief, as the road-weary tunic lay on the bed not an arms length away. It was even neatly folded, as if prepared by some invisible servant.

***

Well, that certainly was chaotic. Sure, it wasn't what you were expecting, but there's no denying that the alleged Daedric spell had its uses. A sly smirk graces your lips as you imagine the possibilities, freshly clothed and pacing back and forth restlessly.

A sharp squeak interrupted your musings, followed by some loud scuttling. A small streak of grey darted across the floor from beneath the bed, headed for a gap in the rotting wood of the opposite skirting board.

Damn rats...

You reflexively tense your dominant hand and mutter the incantation you'd been repeating for a better part of the evening. The sphere of raw magicka burst into being, pulsating in the palm of your hand.

A perfect cast. A perfect guinea pig. A perfect opportunity.

You lob the crackling ball of energy with pinpoint accuracy, intercepting the fugitive rodent on its escape path.

The purple flash on impact stopped it dead in its tracks. It stared blankly at its intended destination before shaking its head, as if clearing it, and scurrying back beneath your bed. The Obliviate spell was successful.

You lack the power for it to have such an effect on regular folk, but you have no doubt that you could wipe away a few hours of memory at least. Even a modicum of success with an Apprentice spell is virtually guaranteed to impress the College examiner.