I'll admit to myself that I had nothing planned before this. Actually, if one can say that staying at Proudspire Manor and taking a gander at the collection of my armors and weapons displayed, and perhaps getting the chance to lie down for the first time in what seems like a long time as 'nothing', then that is what my day would've consisted of: nothing. I had no qualms with the idea of 'nothing' since lately it's been dragon after dragon, request after request, assassination after assassination, and some old face wanting to meet me for some peculiar reason. Life of a Dragonborn is what Kharjo would say at this moment and I would roll my eyes as a response. Though one can surmise that my life could be worse and I would say that being inside the Blue Palace with these noble-types just made it so.

"Welcome, Dragonborn," High Queen Elisif used to be so fragile in her role, but I suppose the years have been kind to her. I can't fathom just how much the Empire squeezed their fingers on her to get her to have some sort of command presence. "I speak for everyone when I say it is a fine day with you around. Thank you very much for coming in such short notice."

Such short notice she said. I bow my head slightly just to reciprocate the 'respect' that I need to somewhat uphold. Though her words doesn't necessarily reflect the ambiance I am feeling from her Housecarl Bolgeir Bearclaw who seems to be staring me down with as much intimidation as he can let off. There was more than enough times I wanted to react kindly to his demeanors that he has and continues to give me but Solitude happens to be one of the places I keep my wares and spoils; being wanted in one of the bigger houses that I own wouldn't be the best way to live even for me so with that I ignore him as I have in the past. Then again, this whole thing is an ignoring game to me since the rest of Elisif's company doesn't exactly suit well to my liking and the feelings are mutual. Falk Firebeard who is standing close to Elisif's side continues to whisper things in her ear as if to instruct her or perhaps spreading gossip about me while his eyes burning at my direction as his 'beard' name implies. I wouldn't mind piercing my blade into his gut for all the slander he has thrown at my direction.

"I am sure you are wondering why you were summoned, Dragonborn?" As soon as Falk peels his whispering lips away from her ears, Elisif speaks to me again.

"I guessed it had something to do with sweet rolls." I don't change my posture or my demeanor but such sarcasm evokes a subtle growl from Bolgeir. Again, I'm not his favorite person in Skyrim.

"That would be a lovely change, wouldn't it?" Pacifism tone from the High Queen as if trying to settle down her Housecarl through her words without saying so. "First and foremost I would like to personally congratulate you and extend my gratitude on slaying another Dragon that threatened Morthal a few days ago. The people of Skyrim always appreciate such valiant acts. You may have banished Alduin yet his kin still remains and your constant perseverance to slay these beasts is comforting as it is inspiring."

Inspiring she says, comforting she says. Sighing audibly through my helmet, I speak to respond to her ever so motivating speech.

"Do you get praise for sleeping, High Queen?" The tangent struck Elisif and everyone else rather oddly.

"Excuse me, Dragonborn?" Her words mirror the faces on Falk and Bolgeir.

"When you sleep, do you get congratulated? When you put a slice of venison in your mouth do your servants clap their hands? For every step you take does your Housecarl prance around like a jester? With every word you utter, does your steward sing exuberantly for hearing your voice?"

"What madness is this?!" Bolgier growls, cutting off Elisif. "Does your audacity know no bounds?!"

"Bolgeir, please." Like a dog on a collar, Bolgier slightly calms his posture at his Queen's words despite the 'growl' still evident in his face. If only he can see my grin under my helmet. "Dragonborn, I apologize if I do not see the point to your questions."

"Are my questions too difficult for the High Queen of Skyrim? Should I address this matter to your steward over there?"

Again the room tenses up and even Falk joins the show of anger through his fists clenching. Elisif on the other hand tries to adhere to the serene environment that she is trying to uphold.

"No, Dragonborn. I do not get any praise for any of those. Why do you ask?"

"To me slaying a dragon is the equivalent of you taking a step, eating, sleeping, and breathing. I do not need nor want your praise when clearly it's just a masquerade for the real reason why I am here. You need something from me, so say it without trying to cajole me. I would greatly appreciate it if you do not squander my time."

"That's it!" Bolgeir pulls his blade out of its sheathe causing the rest of the guards to change their stance. Their ambivalence taking a hold of them as they are unsure whether to concur with the Housecarl's abrupt decision or to wait for an order. My hand barely lingering towards Muramasa. "I will not stand by and listen to you insult our Queen! Watch your tongue or-"

"I am watching my tongue," I respond quickly. "If I spoke as I wanted to, you would've already been in pieces."

I have been calm even as his blade is pointed at my direction, though I remain vigilant with every soldier who has his hand on the hilt of his blade. I pay attention to Elisif's movements; I even notice Falk's posture trying desperately to signal Bolgier to stop. This could truly turn for the worse.

"Bolgier, I am angered as you are but you know what you must uphold!" Falk speaks finally. "We do not need anymore stains of blood on the walls or on the banners above us."

I take note of the said banners that are hanging proudly over the Queen. The symbol of Solitude: the Wolf. There was a time when I myself held true to this banner because of what I was… that was a long time ago. Times have changed and so have I. Speaking of changes, Bolgier finally makes his decision and sheathes his blade. The guards followed not too long after and once again we are back to the peaceful meeting as Elisif had planned from the beginning. Peaceful, minus the glaring eyes of both Bolgier and Falk.

"Would it be too much if I asked you to take your helmet off, Dragonborn?"

"Yes," That's not the first time she had asked me to do that and the response remains the same. "It would be too much."

"Very well," Taking a deep breath as if trying to calm herself down, Elisif continues. "The people of Skyrim are concerned with the rumors of Sigil Stones appearing once again. I do not think I need to lecture you on what Sigil Stones means two hundred years ago, Dragonborn?"

"I am aware. Though I have no time to travel to Kvatch and seek out a champion."

"I apologize if you misconstrued. No one is asking you to travel to Cyrodiil, we are only asking you to-"

I knew what the request entailed and obviously my sarcasm flew pass the High Queen.

"Close shut the jaws of Oblivion, correct?"

"If one appears and if that is what it must take, then I suppose that is what the people of Skyrim is asking you."

"The people of Skyrim," I scoff. "I have lived my destiny. Alduin is banished, dead in my eyes. He won't come frolicking this way for another lifetime. If some Daedric god wants to invade, isn't it time for another champion to rise up to the occasion?"

"Do you truly believe that your power was only meant for Alduin's exile? Can you not see the value of it past the world eater, Dragonborn?"

To me this has been a conversation I have had with my comrades. In fact, this is almost a mirror conversation that Serana and I had not too long ago and truthfully, it is getting on my nerves. As if people truly have the right to scrutinize my fate as if they are well aware of what it is. Shaking my head before shrugging my shoulder, I respond.

"When time permits I will take a gander at these Sigil Stone ordeals and see if there are any truths to them aside from attracting dragons. In the mean time, just pray to the nine or to whoever that another hero is born that would suit your needs since I am not that person," I let those words linger for a bit before finishing my sentence. "Nor do I care to be that person you all prayed and wished for. I have done my deeds and have saved far more people than any of your soldiers combined and for me, that's more than enough to take me off the list of being everyone's go-to distress reliever."

Turning around, I take a few steps towards the dual stairs that would soon lead me out of this place that I try my very best to avoid. Though before I am able to take the left stairs, Elisif speaks over the murmurs of her steward, Housecarl, and Thanes.

"You would truly abandon the need of many because of your own selfish desires?"

I remain still for a moment staring at the chandelier hanging on the ceiling with the light shining from the large window above it; the image of the said light adding a special affect to the idea that I truly need to walk away from this conversation. Almost like a sign of some sort. I should just walk away.

"The power of one man cannot save you all." And there I am trying to get the last word.

"No Dragonborn, he can't," The High Queen responds almost immediately. "But he can at least provide some hope for the people."

The Masque of Clavicus Vile hides the astonishment etched in my face as Elisif said those words. Perhaps Serana and the High Queen converse about me since that is almost verbatim of what Serana said to me some time ago? Doubtful. As it is the rumors of me sleeping with the Vampiress is an atrocious thing for anyone to indulge. As if it is a rumor. Then again it's half a rumor since the vampires, lady or man does not sleep. Shaking those thoughts off, I decide that taking this conversation a step further would not be in my best interest. I have already wasted enough time with enough pettiness and perpetuating it would only mean I am part of the problem so I descend down the stairs ignoring the next few words Bolgeir and Falk tells the High Queen. As I reach the bottom of the stairs the maid Erdi nods at me as I make way towards the door, probably thinking of another way of asking me to be her 'knight' or something, though I gave her no response back then as I won't today. My mind is set on taking my leave of this place. Pushing both doors open, I finally find myself back into the open air of Solitude. The sun blazing up high eliciting a cringe from me as I step out of the castle's protection and into the courtyard. Never was the biggest fan of daylight for a myriad of reasons. The guards turn their heads at my direction giving me slight acknowledgements despite two of them probably have less than respectable expressions about me underneath their helmets. Walking further into this detestable sunny day and finally exiting the castle grounds completely, I am greeted once again by the view of the larger houses of Solitude. The house I call home in Solitude, Proudpire Manor, stands as one of the taller buildings to my right along with the Bards College that is directly right next to it; yes I have a school as my neighbor, though they don't bother me. Then again, I don't stay at one place for a long duration since I am always travelling all across Skyrim for one reason or another so the neighbors are almost strangers to me. Though today it's going to be Proudspire Manor for the night. That is the place of my destination and I intend to take the stroll as calm and as serene as I can to try and alleviate the annoyance of the day.

Taking note of the children running through the long straight path, I slightly smile to myself as they hold their wooden swords and make pretend they are fighting. The girl and the boy clashing with their make believe weapons, laughing, and 'shouting'. They see me coming towards their way and they wave at me with glee; both the Nord and the Breton child completely unaware of what their parents gossip about me, which keeps their 'fantasy' about me alive. I am a hero of Skyrim and I will continue to be… at least that's what I think they tell their children. It's strange that they find nothing peculiar about an ebony clad man with a Daedra helmet as the 'savior' of Skyrim. With all the sincerity I can muster, I wave back to the children as I continue my stroll towards my house. Perhaps this will be a peaceful day.

Suddenly the sky lets out an ear-piercing scream and when my ebony mail starts to omit the black smoke of Boethiah's blessing, I am more than aware that it wasn't the sky that let out that sound. I already knew what did the moment I heard it, but I was hoping it wasn't so. The children already knew as well and they react accordingly. The Breton boy drops his play sword and screams as he runs towards his house. The Nord girl however stays despite the fear laced in her posture. She may be attentive of the Dragon that is flying towards Solitude's direction, but her eyes are on me. A silent cheer from a little girl who still sees me as a hero, I suppose. I stare at her for a few moments before her father scoops her up and runs for cover; brave little girl. While the adults scurry in fear, she would've stayed and watch the 'hero' act as she heard I would. The hero… what an odd title for me.

"Muramasa," I mutter more to myself than my blade. Who would talk to their blade anyways? "Our journey never ends, does it?"

With that said, I run towards the exit, passing my manor. There will be another time for frivolous tasks but as of right now the dragon is my main priority. For the soldiers of solitude who were tending to their daily tasks on the training ground, their weapons are also ready even though I know they are highly depending on me for this task. Lucky for them I don't think the dragon won't be interested in causing havoc in Solitude; the testament of my inner assumption is that it flies over us and doesn't even mind the arrows flying from the archers who of course don't hit it. I'm sure the soldiers are relieved of that, though for me, it's another 'must do' to absorb another soul. Convinced that I need to slay another dragon in the timespan of less than a day, I keep running. I could summon Arvak but not exactly fitting for an undead horse with so many of the normal folks around. With that said, I decide to take the faster way and jump over the ledge in front of the blacksmith's building and landing with finesse despite the sound of my ebony armor clanking rather loudly from the sudden impact. Taking off with speed, I pass Solitude's most famous market and its local bar until finally I find myself pushing the gates open not paying attention to the guards who are uttering a myriad of things; probably some blessing from one of the nines or some nonsensical cheer that would not benefit my cause. Finally being able to conjure Arvak, I quickly jump on his back and the moment I do, the undead horse gallops with speed that no other horse of Skyrim can match.

For the most part Arvak is keen to my needs so taking advantage of this perk, I load Avarice with a bolt for the long range battle that will most likely ensue. Taking the left on the road, Arvak and I pass Katla's Farm and continue through the bridge over East Company Warehouse, staying as close to the Dragon's trail as much as we can. The beast is taking no interest in landing and I can't fathom as to why. Dragons these days have had more than enough 'need' to terrorize and this one is not concurring to that pattern. Then another screeching wail breaks through the clear skies and another dragon flies pass me and towards the direction where the first one heads. I raise a brow under my helmet with this scenario. If I can get lucky with the two of them landing, I can once again debate with two dragons at the same time; it has been a while since that joy has come my way. Urging Arvak, we speed through once again, his fiery hooves leaving tracks of purple fire as he lets out a snort. Though through my experience, no matter how fast my steed will go, a dragon's flight will prove difficult to match so this will be a matter of chasing it down until the two of them finds an incentive to step foot into solid ground. Though as the chase goes on and I start to map out the beasts' route, I come to the disappointing realization that they are heading towards the area where Solitude Lighthouse stands and that leads to the ocean. Me chasing them through the vastness of the water won't end on my best interest for a few reasons. The dragons themselves are now well off into the distance anyway so perhaps they are just like the others who just wander, contemplating if they should follow what Alduin started or to be at peace like Paarthunax… It's a usual thought process whenever I find myself wasting time chasing a dragon and they just fly off into the distance.

Though remaining in that thought is completely deterred as a ship catches my attention that is docked close to the location of the Lighthouse. While it's not exactly odd for a ship to use this dock, I am more used to seeing ragged and worn down ships like the Dainty Sload instead of something so… regal and almost enchanted. As Arvak takes slow steps towards its direction, I am able to make out more of its structure and its banners…. Truly foreign. While I am not the most knowledgeable when it comes to Tamriel, I do know most of the symbols or at least will have a vague idea of its existence, and this ship with its flower like crest bordered by a snowflake of some sort is truly something I have not seen before. Though it's not a far-fetched notion that they are a new guild making their mark and it just so happens they picked Skyrim. Then a sound catches my attention completely. Something direr.

A strained string of a bow is released from its tension and an arrow makes it way towards me with the intent to kill. As quick as it came my way, I caught the arrow with the tip mere inches away from my face. Turning my full attention towards the one who shot it, I smirk and fired back with my crossbow; hitting the sneaking archer right on his head and watching him as he falls from his hiding place lifelessly.

"It's him!" As I have guessed, the archer wasn't alone. "It's really him!"

From the sound of the voice, the mercenary is an Argonian and he just gave me his location with the desperate warning. Or perhaps he is leading me to a trap, which is all the better. Regardless my whisper manages to see through the terrain and I am able to see a handful of auras that are reacting to the Argonian's warning. I can make out weapons being drawn as they prepare themselves while, others are starting to scatter, then there is a particular group running away… an odd color for an aura emanating from one of them… not like the others at all. Strange. With a gesture to Arvak, I ride forward and get to a vantage point where I am able to get a view of my assailants: A band of mercenaries and thieves who made the Lighthouse their headquarters of some sort. Their numbers are great and from the looks of it, the majority are staying to give me a fight while some are trying to retreat; eyes are gawking at my direction especially from … a captive… woman... she is the one with the strange aura.

"Do not let him pass!"

A mage commands as he steps in front of the captive, which of course the mercenaries comply with their weapons drawn and arrows starting to fly at my direction. Arvak stands on his hind legs and lets out a battle cry despite the arrows striking him; the said gesture is more or less an intimidation factor before he complies with my train of thought and that is to attack! With hooves digging into the snow, Arvak and I tread forward, avoiding the fray of arrows and destruction spells. To make things easier to reach my goal, I conjure a Familiar bathed in fire and a Seeker; immediately the two obeys with the wolf exploding when in range, sending a few of them in disarray, while the Seeker starts letting out its spells, which also sends their ranks in chaos. With Muramasa unsheathed, the red blade lets out a hungry glow as I reach my first enemy who was trying fervently to fire another arrow but my blade ended his attempt real quickly as well as his life. Arvak shifts himself to the right and evades a few attacks, but it also puts me open for some archers and with this in mind, I jump off Arvak, flipping to the right and letting the undead horse keep moving forward and right into the enemies. His undead flames sending some of them in frenzy as he rushes through their ranks. By now the close range fighters are upon me, a Khajiit tries with his dual blades but his speed doesn't exactly save him and it took less than two moves to plunge my blade through his leather armor. Using his dying body as a shield, an axe hacks at him, evoking a snarl of pain as his own comrade struck him. Shoving him away and sending him crashing to a couple of coming assailants; the next few are relentless with blades and blunt weapons swinging in all directions as if that tactic will have any sort of success. While the majority I merely push away with Muramasa, some just lack any real intent of hitting… they just swing their weapons and for that my blade disarms them permanently.

"I've done it!" An Orc by the Lighthouse calls as his war hammer had created a crater on the ground. "I killed the Dragonborn's steed!"

There is some humor to take in this Orc's stupidity about the situation and I would entertain it by calling on the undead horse once more and watching his eyes widen as my steed tramples him with ease. While he might be bones and a sign of death, Arvak still has the muscle of a normal horse with immortality and strangely enough, he remembers everything that happens to him before he goes back to the plane of Soul Ciarn or dies; A bad way for the Orc to die as Arvak continues to stomp on him with his flaming hooves. The entertainment has to end however as another sword wielder comes charging in with his mind set on my death, though I respond with my own conviction as I drive my blade through his steel armor and immediately feeding Muramasa yet another soul.

"Deal with that atrocity!" The mage calls out again as the Seeker I have summoned are keeping most of the mages busy. "You kill that one and its doppelganger will die!"

The creatures are detestable in battle as they are in appearance; though when they fight by your side, it's very useful and it can cause enough strain even in the most adept mages. Having the ability to duplicate itself, I'd say it has done its fair share of damage with the decoration of mages on the ground who are either unable to utter another spell or close to death. The whole entire lot is actually adorned with carcasses, blood, and a trail of severed hands and arms thanks to my doing. With most of their numbers depleted, I can take a moment to feel their despair as mages, archers, and warriors are slowly losing their momentum of attack. Except for the fact that another bolt flies at my direction, which I barely avoided with a tilt of my head.

"He's just one man!" One of them calls. "There are more than a dozen of us!"

Either he is a complete fool and do not abide by the whole 'reputation-precedes-you' notion, or he has lived in a part of Tamriel where no news of the outside world comes to him. I might want to lean on innocence since he is holding his crossbow with such a pompous stance that I'm not entirely sure what else to think. His lips curved in a wicked grin and his green eyes has a slight glow to them.

"Hans you fool! Stay with the Queen and get out of here!" The Queen? The captive is a Queen? "We will cover you!"

The Dunmer Mage is for certain the one in charge of this concerto of Mercenaries so perhaps keeping him alive for information would be prudent unlike this one I just beheaded for a foolish attempt of a preemptive attack after that man with the red sideburns took a shot at me. The Queen he says… before she was forcefully ushered, she and I made eye contact… her eyes… whatever she was trying to say through the cloth that is stifling her voice….

A barrage of destruction spells coming right at me and it's in the moment of evasion I decide that I need to get to that woman… The Seeker follows my thought and causes another disarray in the mages' line giving me enough room to maneuver. With a shout that causes me to sprint faster than the wind, I aim to plunge my blade at that arrogant man named Hans who is forcing the captive to wherever they are intending to go with the Lighthouse compromised. Though the Dunmer is trying his best to make sure that a linear path will not be possible as he places a rune just before the moment of contact. Clever tactic and with my speed I almost stepped on it; but because of my speed I am able to feign to the side avoiding it but not completely. The gust of wind from my movement alarmed the rune and it lets out a shattering force that causes me to stumble slightly. The force had a wide enough trajectory that it causes Hans to falter a few steps forward, landing painfully on the ground and leaving the woman to fall on her side, a few feet away from him. Despite the shock that spell caused, the woman tries fervently to get to her feet. Of course with her hands bound behind her and that long cloak….

The cloak and the symbol on it… even from this far I can tell the design and the material is not Skyrim's… the floral insignia matches some of the ones I saw in the ship …

"Get her!"

"Gilaro that was a stupid move!"

I shook myself out of my reverie and immediately rush to the woman and pull her to her feet, ignoring her pleas through the gag as I shove her behind me. I gave myself too much time on thinking… gave them too much time to recover. Hans is now on his feet with his crossbow in his hands, the Dunmer Gilaro is holding his staff towards me, the rest of mercenaries are regrouping, surrounding us, and the ones who aren't bothering with me is hacking away at the Seeker as it pierces a Breton mage with one of its tentacle. Soon that Seeker will disperse and it will leave this woman and I to to fend off the rest of her captors.

"Uhununn uh uhnn... gnm Huhnh!"

I tilt my head so that I am giving the woman some attention as she tries to speak…. The Seeker is spent and I was mistaken in my previous thoughts: It's up to me to fend off her captors while she tries and let out nonsensical demands through the gag.

"He's just one man!" This Hans person reaffirms his stupidity as he speaks once again. "Why are you all standing around and gawking at him! He is getting in the way!"

"Then shoot him, pretty!" The Argonian with a mace and shield replies to my liking. "You just keep talking like you have something to actually help the situation."

"ENOUGH!"

"If your men are too scared, then…"

Hans doesn't finish his sentence because his finger pulls the trigger. The bolt is aimed right at my head and I have to admit in this moment where time slowed down, this Hans has some accuracy and fortitude. Though he is as I have said: stupid and stupidity deserves some admonishing. From the top of my lungs I shout with an Unrelenting Force and those who are in range are caught in its wake; suffice it to say, that bolt is no longer a threat as well as some of my assailants. Bodies flying like ragdolls, those who have enchantments on their armor are staggered, some mages are able to put up a ward to help aid them in their footing, but the result is affective and the enemies are once again left in a mess. The added perk to the result is that the annoying Hans is nowhere in the picture and is probably one of the few who took flight from the shout's power. The Dunmer Gilaro is still left, two mages, and about four more melee warriors. The battle is now over.

A cold wind.

A power surges behind me and I instinctively turn around with Muramasa ready but to my astonishment, the hostage is somehow glowing with an enchanted light. Somehow she had managed to rip her bindings off and the cloth over her mouth follows. Those eyes scintillating in an ice blue glow and with a gesture of her hand, the patterns on the lower part of her dress shines and from there the light pervades upward. Like magical snow is slithering up her form, her dress starts to change drastically and the dark toned attire vanishes. Her sleeves lets off a radiance as she flicks her wrists… her cloak disappears and is replaced by a transparent cape that is glamorously decorated by the same symbol I have seen on the banners of the boat…. I watched this whole thing… I actually found myself standing still for a moment… her face calm before she opens her eyes with a burning determination. For a moment we locked eyes again before I realize she was looking pass me and towards Gilaro's direction.

For some reason the enemies were also frozen in place like I…

This is magic I haven't seen or felt before…. And with a swagger of her hips from left to right, she walks pass me… her fists glowing like the hailstorms of the highest mountains of Skyrim. Whoever she is or whatever she is… at this given moment, that helpless girl is gone.

To Be Continued.