"Get up, dirt-bag."

I looked up from my cell in the Imperial City Dungeon, to see an Imperial Watchman unlock the cell door. He walked in, and unchained me. He grabbed me by the arm, and led me through the dungeon.

He made me think of a darting fish. He had narrow, green eyes. His helmet concealed for the most part his wavy red hair. His tan skin told me he was either Redguard or Imperial. He wielded a standard-issue Imperial Sword and Shield.

He led me through the streets, where the people mocked and insulted me. They threw rotten fruit at me, and spat at me.

"How dare you!" One Imperial man asked, "How could you betray your comrades?"

I only ignored everything. My trial in front of the Elder Council waited. The Imperial Watchman guided me through the streets to the White Gold Tower, which was in the center of the city.

"Through these doors, prisoner," He said. "Your trial awaits you."

I said nothing. I waited my arguments for the Elder Council.

As he threw the doors open, he led me to the Elder Council chambers. As he let me inside, I looked at all fifteen members. Its numbers were severely lessened after the Stormcloak Rebellion, as all the Jarls and the High King were on the Elder Council.

I looked as the High Chancellor, an Imperial woman named Ladia Curio, addressed me.

"Legate Pliton Calleius," she began, "You are charged with murder, conspiring with the Daedric invaders, mutiny, aiding the enemy, absence without leave, desertion and misbehavior in front of the enemy. What say you in your defense?"

"High Chancellor Curio," I said politely, "I don't know if you will believe this, but this is what happened. General Astius Calleius had been dead for years while in self-exile in Morrowind. His form was only recently taken by a Changeling by the name of Warfury, and purposely knew the location of the Daedric Army heading for Stros M'Kai, but kept looking elsewhere for them.

"Warfury revealed his form when we finally caught up with the Daedra. He attacked me, and changed into his true form. I killed him and the Daedric General, yet I was charged with these unseemly crimes."

There was a flurry of contempt from the Elder Council. The High Chancellor only sat in her chair.

"Alright, silence!" She called. "Legate Calleius, do you think we should believe these outlandish claims, when the corpse was obviously your own father's body?!"

"High Chancellor," I replied, "The Changeling changed form right before he died. Believe me, please. If you cut into him, you will find blue blood –the blood of a Changeling– not red blood."

"Legate Calleius," Curio said, "It is clear that you have descended into insanity if you think we would believe that the man you killed was a Changeling!"

The rest of the Elder Council nodded in assent. By the way they nodded I knew my fate was sealed.

"Legate Calleius," Curio said, "As punishment for your war crimes, we strip from you your rank, your pay and your belongings. And I, Ladia Curio, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, sentence you to death by crucifixion on Loredas, the Twenty Third of Morning Star."

It seemed as though all the wind was sucked out of my lings. I was being crucified for doing my duty! The Elder Council looked at me with such hostility, that I knew that there was no way I was going to escape this.

"Take him away." Curio told the Watchmen, "I wish not to lay eyes on this criminal anymore."

"Yes, my lady." The red-haired Watchman stepped forward, and chained me up. He led me through the White Gold Tower, and back into the dungeon.

When he shoved me back into my cell and locked the door, I felt terrible. I had faced death so many times, but I was going to die as a criminal! I had committed no crime!

"It's not fair." I mumble as I bit into stale bread. There had to be a way to escape before my execution date. I thought about it, Loredas, today was Middas. I had three days to escape.

But where would I go? Certainly not to the Aldmeri Dominion, or anywhere near the Legion, they would butcher me. That only left one option: Skyrim. I needed to escape to Skyrim, and find exile with the Dragonborn.

I wished that I had a better plan. Sure, I knew where to go, but how would I get out? Surely they had my armor and weapons somewhere, but I needed to get to it.

I looked around the cell for a sewer grate or something to sneak into. Then maybe I could sneak on some Imperial Armor and run for Skyrim on a horse.

Yes, I thought, that's what I would do. The Daedric Armor is nice, but I'd rather Imperial Armor to lay low before I broke for Skyrim.

And so I combed the cell, looking for some means of escape. I looked and looked, but there was nowhere.

I sighed, and sat down on a hay pile which served as my bed. There was no escape; I was going to be crucified. A feeling of dread and defeat enveloped me, and soon I was looking for something to take my own life. A rope to serve as a noose, or a sharp rock would do.

Again, there was nothing. I sat back down, and accepted my fate begrudgingly. I was depressed; there was no way out for me. I was going to die.

Middas passed uneventfully, and when I awoke Turdas morning, there was still nothing exciting. Breakfast came and went. Stale bread and slimy water; I nearly died with that meal.

The hours ticked away ever so slowly. Curio had to make it Loredas. I guess she wanted me weak so as to put on a good show for the citizens. I sighed, and laid down on my hay pile.

I began counting the number of cracks in the ceiling. One, two, three, I began, Wait a minute. Cracks! I can capitalize on these cracks and escape! No need for stealth, I know magic!

I sat up, and looked up to the ceiling. I raised my hands, and attempted a kinetic blast. Only, nothing came out. I looked to my hands, and tried again. Nothing.

I went to my knees. I couldn't use magic. There was no means of escape. I tried every spell I knew, but lo, I had no luck.

I sat in that cell, a defeated man. I knew I couldn't escape; I knew I would have to die for crimes against the country I so loved. I had served it fearlessly for years, and now I would die on a wooden cross as repayment.

My thoughts went to Twilight. I was the only one who knew of her plight, yet I could do nothing. That was the worst part of my sentence, Twilight would die without my help, and if I was executed, she would die a prisoner to Chrysalis.

I stood up, with renewed vigor. If I wasn't escaping for myself, I was escaping for her.

I raised my hands to the ceiling, and, lo and behold, the kinetic blast flew from my hands, impacting the ceiling above.

It caved in on my cell. I climbed over the rubble, and arrived on the floor above me. Two guards saw my escape, and they were approaching with drawn weapons.

"Halt!" One called, "In the name of the Empire!"

I stood there, two spells ready. I ran towards them, and slid between one's knees. I got up behind him, and used a kinetic blast to smash his skull against a wall.

I ran over, and grabbed his sword. I turned, and blocked an attack from the other guard.

I slashed at him, and he barely blocked my savage attack. While he was recovering, I froze him in place.

"There we go," I said, patting the ice block.

I ran down the corridors, and hid in the shadows from the guards. They hadn't known of my escape, yet. Someone would find those two guards, and I would have to make a run for it.

Not if I disguised myself. I smiled at that thought, and stalked behind a lone guard.

He stiffed up, and I stood up behind him. I grabbed his mouth, and cut open his neck. I held my other hand on his wound, so blood wouldn't spill onto the floor.

I dragged him into the shadows, and stripped him down. I put on his armor. It was a tight fit, but I looked pretty convincing.

I needed to come up with a fake name. If I was going to be questioned, I needed a fake name. I thought for a couple of seconds, and came up with Leonde Abitius.

I put on the helmet, and walked through the halls, towards the exit.

"Hey," a Watchman walked over to me, "Who're you? I've never seen you before."

"Oh," I said, "My name is Pli… No, it's Leonde Abitius. I'm new here."

"Okay," the guard said, "Anything interesting in the city?"

"I heard the High Chancellor just sentenced someone to death by the cross." I talked casually about my own execution.

"Really, is that so? I feel sorry for the poor bastard." He replied, "Must be rough on him."

"Must be," I said, "Look, I have to go. My shift's over."

"Alright," the guard smiled, "See you around Leonde."

"Yeah," I said, walking away from him. I looked back and waved, "See you around."

I walked through the door of the dungeon, and the sunlight killed my eyes. I squinted, and held my hand over my eyes. Eventually I could see, but it caught me off guard.

I walked into the Market District of the Imperial City, and found it empty. I shrugged, and opened the gates. I walked over to the stables, and requested a horse.

"What for?" The man asked. He wore and eye patch, and the other eye was dark brown. He had a large bald patch on his scalp, with hair growing around it. He wore a small beard, and wore a light green shirt with brown pants.

"I need to head for the border with Skyrim." I said, "I was transferred."

"Do you know how much gold this will cost ya?" He asked gruffly.

"Put on the Watch's tab." I said greedily. "They said they would pay for any and all expenses."

"All right then." The man smiled, "Let me get you a horse."

He came back a moment later with a white horse, and gave it to me. I nodded, and got on. I trotted away slowly, looking to see if any of the Watchmen had caught onto my plan.

Five minutes later, there was nothing. I reared the horse up, and galloped away from the Imperial City. I knew for the time being, that was the last time I would see the city.

I turned to the road ahead of me, and giddied the horse to move as fast as it could. I wanted to put as much distance between me and the Imperial City as possible by nightfall.

I crossed onto mainland Cyrodiil two hours after escaping from the Imperial City Dungeon. The horse was getting tired, so I had to use magic to keep its energy up. I didn't want to slow down when the entire Imperial Watch could be on my tail.

My escape plan went like this: I would dash to Bruma in as little time as possible, buy another horse, and cross the mountains into Skyrim, where I would find the closest town or city, and try to find the Dragonborn. He would help me; we've been through hell together.

I thought over different plans, but that seemed to be the best one. There was simply no other way to look for Stronghand. I shook my head, thinking that I was running away from the very force I was fighting with not two weeks before.

By evening, I was far away from the Imperial City. At this rate, I would reach Bruma in a day, if it was still standing. The very thought frightened me. I was wondering whether or not an entire city was standing.

My horse was growing extremely tired, and I couldn't use the spell to keep it going up for much longer. I needed to stop and rest. I stopped the horse, and tied it to a tree, in the woods far off the road.

I thought about lighting a fire, but decided against it. I would be too easy to detect if I lit one. So I ate my dinner raw, and laid down on the ground to get some sleep.

As you could imagine, I didn't sleep well that night. I awoke groggy, and ate cabbage and drank water. I fed my horse, and climbed onto it.

I figured by now, the Watch would be looking for me, so once I got on, I pushed the horse to its limits. I figured I wouldn't stop for anything until I reached Bruma.

I used magic to keep the horse going and make it go faster. It was tiring me, but I needed to keep going, so Twilight wouldn't die, wherever she was.

In a few hours, I saw villages off in the distance. That meant I was about twelve miles from Bruma. I smiled, and kept the horse going. I would stop in a village for a drink and food for myself and the horse, and I would get a carriage to the border.

The wind flew through my hair as I raced towards civilization. I felt like nothing could touch me, that I was going to Skyrim, whether anyone liked it or not.

I started to slow down once the villages came into clear view, so as not to draw suspicion. I slowed the horse to a trot, and that is how I arrived into Bruma.

I stepped into an inn, and sat down at a bench.

"What'll you have?" The bartender asked. He had deep-set eyes the color of an overcast sky. He had thinning light blonde hair, and was short and plump. He wore nothing special, just a white shirt and brown pants.

"Cooked beef," I said, "With cold mead. I'll also need some food and water for the horse outside. Charge it to the Watch's tab."

"Of course sir," he said, bowing cockily, "Where do you come from, Watchman?"

"Leyawiin," I said, "I need to head to Bruma for repositioning."

"Alright then," the man said. "Would you like a room, or maybe a hot bath? You look tired my friend."

"No, thank you." I said, "I'll be fine."

"Ok then." The man scowled, presumably from not getting any more money from me. "Your food will be out shortly."

I nodded in thanks. I sat at the table, and thought about different things. What if Stronghand did not want me in Skyrim? Where would I go?

But my thoughts eventually drifted to Twilight. I had no idea where she would be held, but I knew it was probably in Molag Bal's Palace. If she was being held by Chrysalis, it seemed like the most likely place.

But my thoughts eventually drifted to my travels. After I got in Skyrim, I would head to Whiterun. I would then hitch a ride in a carriage to Windhelm, where Ulfric was fighting desperately to take it back from the Daedra.

I chuckled at the thought that Ulfric Stormcloak, the greatest strategist in Skyrim, could not take a simple city. Especially after he had captured both Whiterun and Solitude in a matter of days, the claim seemed more and more far-fetched. It had been a month and a half since the Daedra have invaded, and Ulfric still hasn't broken through the walls, the rumors say.

Once the bartender came out with my food, I asked him about Ulfric.

"Why would I know anything about him or Skyrim for that matter?" He asked irritatingly, "We're in Cyrodiil, not Skyrim, you know."

"I just thought you would've heard something about the Nords." I said, "Considering Bruma is a mostly Nord city."

He shrugged, and walked back into the kitchen to get the food for my horse. I dug into my beef and mead. The taste of cooked meat and cold mead had been so foreign to me; I haven't eaten this well since Stros M'Kai.

Stros M'Kai, the island where my life turned upside down. Where the love of my life was taken from me, but a Changeling took her place. Where I found out my Father wasn't him at all, but yet another Changeling.

The scars if Stros M'Kai would be difficult to heal, possibly even more than Solitude. Gods, the Siege of Solitude was horrid. Onager rounds raining from the sky, hitting friends, civilians, and buildings everywhere kept us alert, as if we could die with the next explosion. And once they broke through the gates, the real hell broke loose.

They were barbarians, the whole lot of them. They attacked with such a savagery; it was unknown to the Empire since the Great War. I saw every single one of my companions cut down by a Stormcloak blade. We retreated to the Blue Palace, and fought to keep the Stormcloaks out.

General Tullius, Legate Rikke, and a few dozen other Legionnaires including myself escaped to the harbor, where there were boats waiting to take us to High Rock. Once we got to High Rock, a few dozen Imperial prisoners escaped, along with soldiers from the numerous camps in Skyrim. At the peak of the short exile in High Rock, the Fourth Legion numbered one hundred fifty infantry, and twenty two cavalry.

I shuddered as I shut the thoughts of the battle out of my head. I had nightmares for months after the battle. Only after I had returned to Skingrad, and with hope of a normal life, I began to recover. But I was called to active duty five months before the Invasion of Skyrim, which General Tullius would be leading.

Once I had finished the meal, and left more gold than what was required, I turned around to leave.

"Wait," the bartender said, "You left too much gold."

"Keep it," I said, "You'll need it."

"But you said to charge it to the Watch's tab."

"Never mind that," I said, "I changed my mind."

"What're you hiding, boy?" The bartender left the bar, holding a dagger.

"Nothing," I replied, "Thank you for your service. Now I must leave, time is of the essence."

"Please," he smiled, showing me yellow and rotting teeth. "Stay for the night. It's getting late."

"I should be heading to Bruma now." I replied forcefully, "Now thank you, but I must leave."

"But you will not." The man said, "Pliton Calleius, Champion of Talos."

I drew the Imperial Sword, and pointed it at his throat.

"What are you on about?" I said, "Calling me a common criminal, who's in the Imperial City dungeon, to be executed tomorrow!"

"No," the man said. His wife, who I had not seen, closed and locked the door. "I know who you are. We have notified the Guard; you will be arrested and sent back to the Imperial City."

He began to cackle with laughter. In desperation, I grabbed the man and held the sword dangerously close to his throat.

"You will let me go." I said, "Or you will be on the menu!"

"Ha!" He spat at me, "Like I would be intimidated by you!"

He threw me to the floor. He went behind the bar, and grabbed a Steel Warhammer. His wife drew two Steel Daggers. They both came close dangerously close to me. I readied a fire spell, ready to burn the inn down.

"This is where you will pay for Witchthought and Warfury's deaths." The man said, changing his form into a muscular Changeling. His wife turned into an attractive one by their standards.

"I am Haband," he said, "And she is Ungiart. We answer only to Queen Chrysalis and King Molag Bal. We were dispatched here because she has been watching you. You will die here, Calleius."

"Try it." I said, lighting Haband's clothes on fire. He screamed in pain, and Ungiart ran up to attack me.

I blocked her attack, but she flipped over me, and she was behind me. I turned to throw off her attack just in time. Sparks flew from our blades as they contacted.

"Just die!" Ungiart screeched. She cut my left forearm, leaving a paper-thin cut. Blood exploded from the wound seconds later, much to her delight.

I went to my knees. I was in extreme pain. Ungiart and Haband laughed as they stood over me. I dropped my blade, to make it seem like I was surrendering.

When they had gotten close enough, I swept their feet from under them. I got up, and readied a spell Twilight had taught me, but told me to only use it in dire need. She said it would cause a Hellish Grid, which would infringe upon the Gates of Hell itself. It would send the inflicted into Hell, but it took immense amounts of Magika.

I needed to use it though. I brought my wrists together, my hands outstretching into different directions. I began to mutter the words of the ancient Equestrian spell.

"Devils of Hell, hear my call." I said, "Make these captives nothing but a shell. I call to you in dire need, to perform the most Hellish of deeds!"

In the middle of the inn, a gaping hole opened. It was like looking down into a tornado of fire and blood. It spiraled down for what seemed like miles. The intense heat singed my eyebrows, and I took cover behind the bar. There were winds the force of hurricanes blowing around, blowing everything around. I could barely stay on my own two feet.

I looked over the bar, to see that three blood-red demons had emerged from the portal. They grabbed the Changelings, and leaped back into the portal. Just as soon as it appeared, the portal, the winds, the demons, everything disappeared.

The inn was a mess. If I was going to leave, it'd better be now.

*phew* This was a long one! But I really couldn't find a good stopping point, so I decided to end it here. First of all, Pliton being before the Elder Council, I found it fitting because it looked like a General was murdered by his subordinate. Also, I really couldn't gauge the time passed, so I guess now it's late Morning Star (aka January.) Now, with all the Changelings appearing, I really haven't incorporated them into the story, so I guess you'll be seeing more Changelings from now on. Now, I also know that the link I gave you in the last Author's Note didn't even show up, so just Google Seventh Sanctum for the website. All credit for the spell name and names of the Changelings and Daedric General go to that website. Next chapter: Pliton continues his dash towards Skyrim, but will the Watch catch up with him? Find out in the next chapter! Until next time, farewell!