The night was bright.
The waves of light in the sky made it look like an ocean was hovering over the world. It was a true sight to behold, for anyone that noticed it.
A man walked along the western road headed toward the town of Whiterun. He was a soldier, one from the Imperial Legion. His armor soaked in blood that wasn't all his. His shield was attached to his forearm, but he walked in such a way that his arms swayed, and the bottom end of the shield would brush up against the sheath that held his Imperial sword. This made a distinct clanking noise, and that's all the man has heard since he began his walk from Solitude.
Or was he a man? No. At least not to some people, some still looked at him just like they would look at anyone that was his age - a kid. But that's not what he was, that's not how he acted. He wasn't a kid. He was confident enough and mature enough to prove that he wasn't just 'some kid.' He had been doing nothing but prove to people all his life that he wasn't just 'some kid' that was of no use. No, he was here. He was in this position. 'Some kid' would never have made it this far. 'Some kid' would never have been able to deal with the struggles that have been a burden these past few days... weeks... months?
The young soldier fell to his knees on the side of the road. Collapsed from exhaustion, frustration, stress. He listened to himself as he wept. The warm tears beginning to fall from his eyes, down his cheek and to his chin, where it eventually fell and dropped on the stone road. These warm tears gave the indication of how cold it actually was on this particular night in Skyrim. He listened in the back of his mind to the voice of his father, demanding him to "get up and stand strong!" The same words he always said whenever he fell or collapsed. He usually would always jump back up and get into a basic military stature immediately after hearing these words. But this time he didn't. Instead, he let himself fall sideways, from originally being slumped on his knees, he was now lying down his side, still on the side of the road. The tears were no longer there, but he could still feel the moisture of the previous ones on his face, still. His eyes were still warm as if he were still forming tears, but he has managed to focus his mind on a single blade of grass, just to flee his thoughts from the hardships that have occurred.
But the trick only was able to last him a few seconds, for the memories quickly seeped through. There was no escaping it. The events would continue to play over and over in his head. He sat up for a second to observe his surroundings. He saw the giant watchtower not two-hundred yards away, and beyond that he could just make out the outline of the city of Whiterun. He was close, so close. Yet his body wouldn't let him get up from this spot.
He fell back, lying on his back in the grass. Finally noticing the bright green waves lighting up the world. His vision became blurry as tears again began to form in his eyes, but he quickly lifted his arm and wiped them away. He was fixed on the sky, fixed on the green waves.
Flashback commencing...
Four months earlier...
"General, Ulfric and his Stormcloaks are marching on Solitude. He's bringing his entire army to the front gates. He should be here in less than 4 hours."
"Thank you, soldier. Report directly back to me if you hear anything else from the scouts."
"Yes sir."
General Tullius had been leaning over the planning table the entire day. It was official. Ulfric is launching an attack in hopes to finally eliminate the Imperial Legion as a threat. Scouts have been reporting all day with the whereabouts, and everybody in Solitude has been feverishly preparing for the attack, whether it be hiding in their houses and praying nothing of theirs gets destroyed, or mentally preparing to defend the city when the siege begins.
"Peleus." muttered the General, there was no need to waste any breath.
In an instant, a soldier who was sitting in the corner of the room, his entire figure blocked in shadow, stood up and walked over to the General, standing tall and proud.
"Yes, General." before giving a salute, and holding it.
"At ease." he said, more stern and less sluggish than before.
He waited for the soldier to put his arm down.
"I'm promoting you to Captain. I need somebody who can hold the Front Gates long enough for us to mobilize for a counter-attack when they slaughter the soldiers guarding outside. We're going to win this by a hair only if we do this a certain way. I am more than certain Ulfric's tactician has got it all figured out, and that they're going to have a show-no-mercy attitude. Can you do this for me?"
Without hesitation, "Sir, yes sir."
"Good. You've deserved this promotion much earlier than when it's been given. You've given me nothing but good news since you've started here, Peleus, and although that isn't long it's sure as hell better than what I used to get before you arrived."
General Tullius was looking him in the eyes when saying these words, but after he began a slow pace around the room.
"Hold the gate, Captain. Go get ready."
"Yes sir."
Captain Arillious Peleus, for the first time since being stationed in Skyrim not one year ago, left the Castle Dour planning room with nothing but doubt and uncertainty on his mind. For he could see the same thing based on the facial expressions on the General's face as he tried his best to be as motivating as possible to he must of thought was the last bit of confidence that this city had facing against the Stormcloaks.
Ulfric Stormcloak arrived on horseback to the front entrance of Solitude with his entire army behind him, just as the Imperial scout had reported. There were Imperial archers stationed on the outer wall as well as a good number of soldiers guarding the front gate. They were all dead within 10 minutes.
The newly promoted Captain had set himself as well as the large group of soldiers he was commanding up against the front gate inside the city. He watched the men that had thrown themselves up against the gate to keep it closed go flying after Ulfric shouted the gate open. Arillious took down 4 people before being forced to retreat back, all of the men that were under his command had been slaughtered.
He sprinted back up the stairs toward Castle Dour to report to General Tullius the large amount of casualties. He found him sitting in a chair, next to Legate Rikke, with a defeated look on his face. He had given up before Ulfric was even at Solitude.
"General, we are suffering major amounts of casualties. Castle Dour will be taken in a matter of minutes."
With his head in his arms, the General looked up in the direction of the voice, "There is no use, Peleus. Ulfric has won. All I ask of you is to survive."
"There is no way of surviving, Tullius. Ulfric is killing anyone and everyone that dons Legion armor in Solitude. He is taking no prisoners." the equally defeated voice of Legate Rikke chiming in.
"Only if you stay and fight." responded Tullius, "Arillious, there is no use. You must find your way out of here, and report back to Cyrodiil. They need somebody like you, somebody experienced here, to help re-mobilize and retaliate." he stands up, taking unbuckling sword-hilt at the same time, and giving it to Arillious.
"Take my sword, observe what has happened here. Use it to fuel you, I don't know how you do it, but it's remarkable. Just don't do it this day, don't fight and die for nothing, flee now and fight again when it's worth it. Go."
Arillious grabbed the hilt from the General's outstretched hands, looking at him for a few seconds. He wanted to say something, but there was no use. He was right, there would be no use in trying to fight in this battle any longer, it was time to flee.
Arillious gave a quick salute, "It was an honor to serve you, General." before walking towards the back door without a word. He knew that would be the last time he would speak to him, and that any more time wasted there would close the window of opportunity even more.
With the door leading up a few flights of stairs and out onto the outer walls at the top of Castle Dour, Arillious rappelled himself down the eastern wall, down to the rocks that were crashing by the ocean. All the while he could hear the victorious screams and chants of the Stormcloaks as they rally in the courtyard of Caste Dour.
End Flashback.
Arillious would have the memory of fleeing a battle while his brothers lay fallen on the stone floors of Solitude haunt his memory for the rest of his life. He had been traveling behind the scenes, walking from city to city, inn to inn, trying to map out ways to pass through Cyrodiil without encountering any Stormcloaks. He travelled from Solitude all the way to Sky Haven Temple through the wilderness to report to Delphine what had happened and what he was trying to do. He laid low in the Temple for a few months, before Delphine eventually gave Arillious a large sum of money to pay a carriage in Markarth to discreetly transport him, but it was in Markarth that he heard rumor of a group of warriors forming to fight against the Stormcloaks in Whiterun, and was curious enough to go and check it out before ultimately deciding to go and flee to Cyrodiil. He had a crazy idea that he may or may not know the person who may be forming this group, and the curiosity was too much to ignore. He also needed to see a certain someone, if his crazy idea, was in fact true. It was someone who hasn't left his mind since when he last saw her many months ago, back when they were both fighting on the same side.
He initially hoped to go from Markarth, south through the forested regions of Falkreath. On his way through Falkreath, however, he was immediately recognized by a group of off-duty Stormcloak soldiers, due to him still wearing his Imperial attire. There were five in total, he managed to kill them all, for they mustn't have seen much battle since being stationed in Falkreath, but he suffered a slight wound to the left shoulder.
For fear of being caught by more Stormcloaks by taking the southern route through both Falkreath and Riverwood, and knowing he would get lost if ever he were to try his luck travelling through the wildnerness, Arillious ultimately decided to double back to Markarth, and head straight east toward Whiterun. He would run into more Stormcloak soldiers, bandits, and even vampires, but he still decided to pursue through toward Whiterun, knowing that he would never live with himself if he decided to flee Cyrodiil without giving ridiculous hunch a shot at possible truth. As he traveled, his thoughts and his emotions were mentally destroying the young boy as his wound and his spirit were physically deteriorating him. It was here, by the great watchtower, with the outline of Whiterun in view, that Arillious has decided to collapse. For the fear of getting to his destination had passed, he would surely make it there. What was fearful now was whether or not his hunch or were true, and if it were true, what he should do or say.
This new predicament was now racing through his head. He had never been so weak, so off-guard in his life as he was right now. However it dawned on him that lying here, looking up at the stars and dwelling in the events of the past would do nothing for him, and at that moment he decided to join his father in the back of his mind saying, "Get up and stand strong!" out loud, as he did so.
Getting up was easy, walking was hard. The physical condition of his body was never so weak before, and Arillious wasn't used to being so physically vulnerable, which caused him to get anxious. He wanted to lay down again.
But he refused, he instead looked up. Back up at those green lights, shimmering across the sky, as if pointing him to the direction he's supposed to go. He forgot about everything, and everyone, and he instead just looked up at the sky, and followed the shimmering path is seemed to make specifically for him. He feel the presence of the watch tower as he passed it, he could hear the horses exhale through their noises as he passed the stables, he felt the sound his feet made when he crossed the small draw bridge just before reaching the main gates of Whiterun, which already was open for him to walk right through. He continued to walk forward, looking following the green lights as he made his way to the entrance of the Bannered Mare.
Upon entrance, there were sounds of people and crackling fire, there was a feeling of warmth. The cool night air made his body accustomed to cold, and being on the road so much almost made his ears forget what it was like to be in an Inn.
He walked over to the bar-maid, and with a slight whisper, asked of the whereabouts of the group formation to fight against the Stormcloaks. The Bar-maid in turned whispered very soflty, so that only the young Imperial could hear it, the location of this get together.
The Hall of the Dead.
Arillious' seemed to be growing more and more fatigued the closer he seemed to get at his destination, his mind, although completely focused on getting there, can't seem to be able to convert the mental motivation into physical energy to allow Arillious to walk up the stairs like a normal person. By the time he made it to the top he almost had to keel over in exhaustion, but no. He needed to get there.
Past the tree, he continued on his way and entered the Hall of the Dead.
The Hall of the Dead was quite tricky to get around, there were hallways and labyrinths one could easily get lost in if they did not know the way. It was unfortunate that this was the case for Arillious.
He still kept moving, however. Making quick decisions to go down this hallways and then turn this direction and and that. His frustration grew as his patience began to shorten to a small fuse that would eventually burst into a heaping explosion of anger, at least this would occur if Arillious wasn't so damn tired.
He extended his arms up against the walls as support, and as if they would close in on him if he didn't. It seemed as if the sudden close quarters after being out in the open tundra for so long seemed to give him claustrophobia, for soon enough his vision began to blur again, but it wasn't from tears this time - he body was beginning to shut down. How long was I walking for? He honestly couldn't even remember the last time he slept, he remembers setting up small camps, but doesn't remember the last time he did so, let alone where he was.
The end of the halls looked as if they were moving towards, as he looked around his mind began to suffer from major vertigo and he started to get nervous.
"Simus!" he yelled, he was the person that he expected to be forming this group, as unlikely as it would sound. He wished he would pop out of nowhere.
"Alice!" he screamed once more, his voice becoming hoarse, and his mouth dry from dehydration.
He tripped and fell down, flat on the floor. But quickly clambered back up and began to run through the hallways yet again, continuing to shout the two people's names in desperation.
The hallways seemed to be the same, they still seemed to be closing in, but wait - he saw a door. He ran as fast as he could toward it, grasping his shoulder in agony. With a big heave and a slight shriek he pushed open the door with his opposite shoulder. He opened the door as a normal person would, but that required so much energy out of him, that he actually fell down after he finally made his way through. He could barely recognize his surroundings, he knew he was in a much bigger room, he could make out pillars, some chairs, a table... "Si....Si - muh..." he groaned, his vision went black as soon as he felt his entire body fall over.
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