Alliances, Old and New

They say the past has its way of haunting you when you least expect it. If the events that transpired the last few days were any example, I guess there's a grain of truth in that. (That is, if my occasional reminiscences of him don't count.) I was secretly quite elated when General Tullius ordered me to report to Legate Rikke in the Rift Imperial Camp. I may not be fond of Riften's hypocritical outside (as I have told him before), but I am already the queen where its ugly underbelly is concerned. Thanks to Brynjolf, Vex, and Delvin, I know enough to bring the Jarl and her steward to their knees. I guess I am already sounding like Maven Black-Briar here, but ever since Kousei conveniently dispatched of the Dark Brotherhood, she couldn't exactly summon them to pay me a visit if I ended up getting on her nerves. Nonetheless, we've been pretty civil to each other ever since my inauguration as Mercer Frey's successor, and I intend to keep it that way.

Oh, the Imperial Legion also has "arrangements" with the Guild. In ways you don't expect.

I'm pretty sure Legate Rikke would not be too happy if she found out the reason why I found it so easy to blackmail Anuriel in Riften. But she gives orders, and she never questioned how I delivered the expected results. Perhaps it's an added value that I could do the job in the shadows. Whatever the reason, she gave me free rein on the matter -- freedom which I utilized to the fullest. I entered Riften at night and got into the Ragged Flagon using the entrance exclusive to members of my Guild. My brothers and sisters in crime were quite happy to accommodate my arrival. I ended up staying longer than I intended as I inquired of the state of things in the Guild, but it was the best time I've had in a long while.

Wartime or peacetime, coin doesn't care.

No one, not even my second-in-command Brynjolf, found it queer that I opened the ledger containing our "transactions." Memories flooded inside me as I viewed the adornments on and about my desk. The bust of the Gray Fox that I stole from Mercer Frey, one of the Eyes of the Falmer... no matter what that holier-than-thou Redguard says, I will never regret having joined the Thieves Guild. But I did not go to the Cistern to reminisce. There was enough material for blackmail to send Anuriel running back to Valenwood, if I dared it to happen. I closed the ledger, but brought with me one of the letters written in her own hand as proof.

Yo there, Gray Fox. How are things going?

Anuriel wasn't too happy to have the letter go back to haunt her, of course. She was quick to talk, at least (and quite easy to get a pretty large sum of gold from, if I may add). The information she gave set off a series of events that involved a cache of Stormcloak weapons not getting to their intended destination.

I had that sentiment too, trust me.

I did not encounter him during the ambush, which was a bit of a disappointment. But I should have known that he had already gained enough favor with Ulfric Stormcloak to be promoted beyond mere caravan escort duty. Legate Rikke gave me a nod of approval when I delivered my report, but there was a look of anxiety in her eyes that I did not miss. Now, I have achieved enough rank to be able to inquire about such observations, and so I did. It was only then that she told me we were supposed to return to Solitude at once, by the General's orders. We may have taken the Pale and the Rift, but the Reach and Falkreath have likewise fallen into Stormcloak hands. She showed me some illuminations that were taken in battle, and most of them were too graphic to be even described. Inside me, my blood boiled. Only he could have done it. Unlike him, I am content to send my targets to the grave in one piece.

After a few moments of silence, I told Legate Rikke to go ahead to Solitude, and I will be at their heels shortly. She gave me permission, and so I set off to a place I have not been in for a long time now -- Fort Dawnguard.

"Friend, all that blood is making me hungry."

I do not know what made me want to see my old vampire-slayer colleagues so suddenly (especially considering all those quests we did together). But with the Fort at a relatively close vicinity to Riften, it wasn't so out of the way. Who should I encounter upon entering, but Serana? I spoke a greeting to her, and she blinked a few times before my identity registered in her mind. She hardly recognized me, she said. But it has got little to do with the Nightingale Armor or the Stormcloak blood staining it -- it was the lack of Kousei in the picture. I had to stifle an irritated snort. I should have known that the people of the Dawnguard viewed him and me as part of a whole.

"I am sustainable on my own, thank you," I replied coldly.

Serana, ever perceptive, implied what was amiss. In the end, I ranted about Kousei, the Battle of Whiterun, Kousei, the Stormcloaks, Ulfric Stormlcoak, Kousei, and... heaven knows, Kousei. Poor Serana, to be the receiving end of my tirade. But it certainly was a relief to have those pent-up frustrations out of my chest. I looked at Serana's unreadable face and apologized for the outburst, as I ought to be on my way by now. To my surprise, Serana packed her things and declared that she was going with me. None of my words could dissuade her, not even if I wore the Amulet of Articulation given by Brynjolf. Seriously, how can she consider fighting for the Empire, when the world she's familiar with is now history?

"I don't really care much about who ends up on the throne of Skyrim," she replied. "But as a friend, I am concerned for your well-being, and so let me join you again."

General Tullius, Rikke, and now, Serana. They all seem to think I'm going mad. But it's nice to have a friend with me again, even if she indirectly reminds me about him -- the man I loved, the man I lost.

- Kiya

Keeping it Together

What an ironic name Fort Sungard became today as the sun sets tonight, as if hiding from the bloody battlefield before me. We have just taken it from the Imperials at the cost of many lives lost. Limbs and heads were cut off from their bodies, and some of our men shared the same fate as they. I only hope they meet in Sovngarde shaking hands as brothers, for they all fought for what they believed in in this mortal plane. 

A bloody battle.

Truth is, I was lost in thought in the battle. I had sustained some arrow wounds while thinking of her. I promised myself to focus on the tasks at hand, but I had encountered something peculiar today.

I went ahead of my comrades and Galmar to the Falkreath camp. I was nearing the town of Falkreath when I smelled the scent of a person from afar. I could not tell if she was an Imperial or a Stormcloak, but she had that distinct womanly smell. I took a detour from the road I was traveling and investigated.

I came upon a large manor in the woods of Falkreath--it was as great as the Windstad manor. The people living there seemed rich, and probably unaware of the things happening in Skyrim, for there was no blood spilled within miles of this house. I saw a woman--the one whose scent I caught--approached me from behind the mansion. She seemed to walk around, as if guarding it.

So this is why the trees were missing...

She approached gently but carefully, and introduced herself as Rayya. A Redguard! She did not seem like the ones who murdered my family. I asked her why she was here and who lived in this great mansion. She ignored my other questions and said, "This is the property of Thane Kiya of Falkreath. I urge you to leave the premises, Redguard, and be on your way." I was taken aback, not because of her strong words, but because this place is owned by Kiya! That woman always seems to find her way into my mind and heart. I love her, but damn her!

I wanted to make a joke, but it might apply to me too...

I told Kiya's housecarl that I was once her lover, and that I stopped by (albeit without knowing, but she did not have to know) to give her something I've been longing to give: a butterfly in a jar. I have had the chance to catch one several days ago, and I have been keeping it alive with my potions; otherwise, it will have been a set of decaying wings now. She eyed it curiously, and took it from my hands. She thanked me, and told me to go the other way again.

Take care of it until Kiya receives it, or else!

I arrived at the Falkreath camp just before nighttime yesterday. Galmar immediately told me to go to Markarth and "persuade" Raerek, the Jarl's advisor, to commit to our cause, in any way possible. This is not something I would do on a regular basis, but I have not come this far to disobey an order to blackmail.

But... I just got here!

I ran all the way to Markarth without stopping. A band of Forsworn started shooting at me from their tower. The cowards! They should come down and face me! I had no time to lose, however, and I ignored their every shot. 

I made it safely to the Understone Keep and started sneaking around (guess who I learned that from). I managed to find Raerek's room and rummaged through his belongings to find an amulet of Talos. He seems to believe in our cause, but I will have to make sure.

He tells me, to my disappointment, that he is afraid of what Ulfric is capable of, and that he does not believe in that man; thus, his allegiance lies with Markarth and its people. I am sick of these politicians, always blind to everyone but themselves. This is why Skyrim needs new leaders. I ask him if he was willing to give us something to aid us, because I had in my hands his ruin. He said there is a big shipment on its way to Solitude, and we can catch up to it if we could. 

You politicians always have something up your sleeves.

I rushed from Markarth as soon as I could and headed back to camp to report to Galmar. It was already morning when I reached the camp. He did not seem to get some sleep tonight waiting on my report on Raerek. With a tired voice, he told me he was glad of the news, and that I should get to one of the roads near here, for scouts have spotted a caravan with chests in it.

Look at me when you talk, will you?

I was surprised to see Ralof again. He tells me he's having a grand time fighting for the Stormcloaks. I could not help but be happy for what he feels, yet my own confusion in this war saddens me at the same time. He tells me he saw a caravan on the road near us, and that they would help me obtain it. I said no, however, I can take care of it myself. He reluctantly agreed.

Oh, it won't, I assure you.

Within a few seconds of leaving Ralof's sight, I had managed to kill each Imperial soldier guarding the caravan. I cannot even remember what had happened, but fortunately I was without bruises or wounds. I stood there in a pool of my enemy's blood, calling to Ralof and the others to join me. I noticed that I had not even spared the horse from the demise its masters suffered. I felt nothing for once, and it scared the living beast out of me.

It's horse stew for dinner tonight, I'm not sure.

With the newfound weapons and armor, we started towards fort Sungard, where the battle was already taking place. An arrow hit me on the shoulder even before I had entered the fort. I charged towards the one who hit me, and struck him down mercilessly. His last screams echoed throughout the fort.

Keep it together, man!

There were almost a hundred of the enemy and we were half their number. Outnumbered, I had to make most of my shouts and shield, as they were my only protection against numerous arrows shot towards my direction. I managed to kill many of them before the rest ran, retreating to nowhere; the nearest Imperial camp was several miles away. We hunted them one by one, as they pleaded for their lives to be spared. 

I do not know how many more of these battles we should win before this war is over, but I am sure that I am starting to lose myself in the middle. I do not feel anything anymore, even killing soldiers who have given up their honor just to stay alive. I should not have done that. Am I losing even my honor just to fight for what I think is right? Am I losing myself in the process of winning the war?

The Battle Within

The sun is starting to set on the cold, weary world. I await inside Fort Neugrad with my comrades after gaining control of it, and for Kiya's letter to arrive. I know I have wronged her, and I cannot blame her for being bitter. I have not received a letter from her yet, after I pleaded her to stop this madness and let me take care of her, take her somewhere safe. 

Gods! I wish the cold was gone. I wish I did not have to take sides in this war, in any war. I could not sleep with the thought of her on the other side, slicing my comrades' throats and piercing their hearts with her arrows. I could not bear the thought of us meeting on the field of battle, only to lose one of us when it is all over. 

Yet, I feel like I do want to see her in the field of battle. I would take her down and take her away from all this. If I ever saw her in battle I would grab her and run away from the war, and live with her in Elsweyr or Cyrodiil, where we could be happy and content. That is, if she still loves me. I do not know if she does anymore. I have a done a lot of vile things; I have done everything to lose everything.

The morning started early with Galmar telling us the details of the mission. We were to storm the fort, kill all the Imperial soldiers, and release our troops from prison. Quite easy, I should say, but Kiya's hatred of me is a burden heavier than my sword. I did not think I would be able to swing my sword if I could see her face on every enemy.

We don't really have to do this if we reinforced this Fort, you know.

The first rays of sunlight were shrouded by the dark clouds that loomed above us. They set on the ground a little too late, as blood had already covered it. It was mine. I had let my mind wander to her, and an Imperial soldier had cut my arm from the block I clumsily made. Blood dripped onto the handle of my sword and made it slippery and sticky at the same time, and onto the ground. In that moment, I saw Kiya's face on the soldier, raising a sword with one arm, threatening to strike. I knew then that I had no choice but to keep my thoughts of her at bay, else my life would be lost too, and so would the hope of returning to her arms. I swung my sword, crushing the life out of the soldier with a massive cut from his shoulder down to his belly. 

Blood gets in my eyeees~

I saw Ralof coming in from one of the gates. He seems glad to cut down Imperial soldiers, but for whom does he do it? For his family? For himself? For his leader? Or for Skyrim? There is only one answer for each man in this war. All but me. I do not know what I am fighting for, now. 

Oh hey Ralof! Didn't know you were still alive.

Ralof provided some comfort in the most dreadful battle I have ever been. Not physically exhausting nor painful, but I could not get the anxiety out of me. I was nervous and always staring ahead. Ralof told me to wake up and look sharp, else the enemy will make a mess out of my body.

We found our comrades in the lower level of the Fort. I let Ralof go ahead of me; he can take care of himself, I knew that. I did not want to take part of any killing for the rest of the day. I will rest early and freshen myself up for the more challenging battles ahead. I should ready myself for the worst thing that could happen--face Kiya on the battlefield.

Hey! yourself. I'm doing you a favor.

 It was already morning when we went outside. The sunlight shone on everything--the ground, the bodies of both Stormcloak and Imperial soldiers, their blood, and amputated arms and heads. It was a gory sight, one that I will keep with me for the rest of my life. This is where I start fighting for what I thought I was really fighting for, and not for myself.

Not a good time to joke about that, Ralof.

Word arrives from Windhelm that I was to go to the Reach, where my blade and shield are needed. It is of the most unfortunate coincidence that Kiya is fond of that place. I doubt my heart will find peace until this war is over... if her arrows do not pierce my heart first.

Heaven Hath No Rage

I can't believe that damned Stormcloak had the nerve to send me a letter after all that he's done. And he even goes to make it look like I've betrayed him for joining the Legion and being a thorn in Ulfric Stormcloak's flea-bitten behind. Despite his claims of protecting Lucia from the battle that took Whiterun, she had essentially seen battle, and far too soon. I'd be flaying him right now if my daughter had died in the skirmish. Furthermore, does he really think I'd fall for his ploy that I see him one last time? For all I know, I'd be walking into a trap more devious than what Mercer Frey had laid down for me, Brynjolf, and Karliah.

I stared at the words "All my love" closing the letter before I crumpled it in my hands. I went to the nearest brazier and threw it in the flames. On second thought, I took the bow he gave me, the one of dragonbone, and threw it in, too. The fire didn't take long to consume the paper into tinder, but it didn't seem to have an effect on the bow. And so I decided to lend a hand (two, rather) with some of my more powerful fire spells.

Die. Die. Die!

To my frustration, the bow proved stubbornly resilient to fire damage. It is made of dragon bone, after all, and the dov couldn't breathe fire for nothing. I let the cursed bow smolder in the flames for some time as I pondered on what to do with it. I couldn't just throw it anywhere or sell it. Despite the pain it gives me, it's still the most powerful bow I've ever had. I couldn't risk it falling in the hands of the enemy and being used against me -- just like the weapon I've given Kousei, now that I think of it.

Hardheaded, like the person who forged it.

The Solitude forge was just nearby, and as I watched the smith hammer away at the anvil to make new weaponry, an idea hit me. I took the still-hot bow from the embers and dismantled it. Parts of it had already turned black and sooty, but it was otherwise as strong as ever. Taking some ebony ingots and a spare dragon bone or two, I subjected it to the forge once more, and turned it into a new weapon. I chuckled darkly. Now I can use it to strike down my enemies without being reminded too often about the false love that placed it in my hands.

Time to kill.

I joined several Solitude guards for some time on the archery training grounds testing my reforged bow. However, I had only shot a handful of arrows into the bull's eye before a messenger arrived with summons to the headquarters, as General Tullius would like to have a word with me. I sheathed my weapon and retrieved what arrows I could retrieve before I hurried into Castle Dour. I expected to be given new orders, but to my surprise, the General motioned that I sit on one of the benches so we can have a little talk.

He even fixed the Emperor's problematic plumbing, I assume.

We talked a little about how things were, back in Cyrodiil. I was a bit confused about where the talk was going, but it was quite a relief to have a fellow Imperial understand a bit about how it was like in County Bruma, where I grew up. But I knew better than to assume the General summoned me simply so we can have some small talk about our past. General Tullius saw that, too, and so he then explained how he saw me burning the letter and the bow from one of the parapets. Before I could help it, I blurted out that they were from a Stormcloak I knew, and I was burning the items as an act of separating myself from him. To my astonishment (and fury, I admit), the General expressed that he and Legate Rikke were concerned that I was running too much on hate.

"I thought you were for the Empire! Why are you taking the side of the Stormcloaks?!" was the impertinent retort that left my mouth at once, along with other bitter accusations regarding the fate of Whiterun.

The General, bless him, patiently listened to my furious outburst before soothingly giving a reply. He acknowledged his own oversights where the Battle of Whiterun was concerned, at the same time giving me a subtle rebuke. We could only drive ourselves on hatred for so long until it consumes us too, he said. And a hotheaded warrior in battle was bound to make the wrong decisions.

I thought I was getting demoted.

That said, General Tullius got up and went to the tactical planning chamber where I was to receive my next set of orders. I took them on readily, assuring him that the commands are good as done. He nodded and thanked me for what I've done and am doing for the Legion, but he continued to stress his words of caution even before I left. I inwardly sighed. For the sake of the General and Legate Rikke, I will do my best to keep my feet on the ground where Kousei was concerned.

What are you implying, General?

May the gods grant me the patience and discipline to see this War through.

- Kiya

Wherefore Art Thou?

My dear Kiya,

The gods have not been kind to us all our lives. Only a week ago were we enjoying each other's company and loving, and now we are like enemies. It does not have to be this way, my love. You know what and for whom I fight for--this is for you, for my child, for all of Skyrim! I wish you'd understand that. But I think it is too late now. One of the survivors of the Fort Dunstad attack has described you and your abilities in combat. Ulfric does not know about us, but even if he did, he won't show any mercy towards you. For your sake, Kiya, stop this nonsense with the Imperials! I will not be able to stop the Stormcloaks if they come after you, and you will fall if they do!

One of our scouts was surveying the area around the fort at night to check for any ambush. He was able to detect some Imperial soldiers crouched behind trees and ready to charge at any moment; however, he was not able to get back to the fort in time to warn of the impending attack. He kept his quiet and watched as the Imperials crept quietly towards the sleeping Fort.

He was not able to do anything but watch as his comrades get slaughtered in their sleep. He said he heard cries and shrieks like no other from men he used to call friends, their screams cut short by the slashing of their throats and arrows piercing their necks. He said he saw something from afar, a dark silhouette or a shadowy figure, shooting arrows with extreme precision, striking Stormcloak soldiers who were striking their own comrades.

Now this was what got my attention as he recounted what he saw: he said he saw his comrades slash one another. I am sure there is magic like that, but I am pretty sure there are no magic-users in the Legion--apart from you. It might have been Illusion magic, but I know you are not proficient at it. It had to be Subterfuge, one of the damned Nightingale's abilities.

After the blood spilling was done, he saw some of our men trying to get away from the Fort. It seems as though you did not care if anyone was alive as long as you got what you wanted. Our scout intercepted the soldier running away and helped him on his way. He was struck by an arrow in the belly, and he cannot walk fast nor straight. He fell down after a few more steps, and uttered his last words to the scout: I kept killing my friends, I did not know why. I did not know what I was doing; may our comrades and the gods forgive me. And with that he cried one last tear as he left for Sovngarde. 

Nice boots.

I admit that I did send you to Solitude to get you out of the way of the Whiterun siege, but it was for your own good. I did not think it important for you to know what would happen to Whiterun then, and I kept your home and child safe from any harm. You have no reason to be doing this, Kiya. I love you with everything that I am, and I am doing all this for the greater good of Skyrim. I lied to you and I know it was painful, but know that I did it out of love for you! I brought this upon you, and I blame myself every day I think about how I lied to you! But please, my beloved, it is not too late to stop this madness! I want you by my side, not on the other side! Please, let me see you again, even if it might be the last time. I just want to know you will be safe somewhere far from the war.

All my love,

Kousei