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