Aldis VI

"Sybille, are you sure you can do this?" I looked at my lover with concern.

"Matthias, calm down. I will be okay. It will only take a little time." She looked at me, her eyes still held that twinkle of amusement. I could not tell if it was part of her illusion or not.

"If it's true then take down your spell. Let me see the look in your eyes for real." I did not ask her. I needed to know the truth.

When the spell came down it revealed an odd yellow-orange mixture that I still had not gotten used to yet. In them I saw not the amusement, the slight twinkling, her eyes usually do. I saw a deep sadness.

"Sybille." I held a hand to her jaw.

"No, Matthias. It is not the time. This has to be done." She returned to whatever ritual she was trying to perform. It would turn however many people in this ruin into her thrall. However many weak willed people that is. The problem is that she did not know the effect it would have on her and she had not fed recently. She would even ask to sate her thirst on me, for even just slowly feeding overtime has the chance of turning me. She would not run the risk unless I asked her to turn me.

"Sybille, I refuse. You can't do this." I grabbed at her arm as she began to draw an iron dagger down her palm. The salt sigil at our feet began glow. This was regular salt, not void salts. What in the name of all that is holy?

"I am not your to control, Matthias." She jerked her arm away. Blood poured from her fingers and into the daedric symbols.

"You don't get it, do you?" I looked at her and this time grabbed both hands. The dagger stabbed into me by mistake as I did so.

She cried out in surprise. She began trying to cast spells on me but I kept stopping her mid cast. "Sybille, stop. I am fine. I am not trying to control you. I am just trying to keep you from hurting yourself. We have a better way."

"Better? How? You and the Imperial goons come marching in? The people would panic!" She yelled and I grabbed her mouth. If anyone was still awake this late at night or one of the undead guards noticed our racket we would be made.

"Not march in. Just pass word along as we move men in place. Get the people out. Anyone willing to stay is going to be able to stay when you cast your spell. Save yourself the pain and the risk. Escort the people back to Solitude. We will handle things from here." I kissed her then, slowly at first. When she stuck her hand to my face I was reminded that we had not taken care of our cuts yet. My own cut must have been driving her senses wild. Pulling her hand away, I asked her to heal us.

After a night spent in each other's arms I went out and signaled for Hadvar and the men while I had her lead the people who chose to leave.

The first guard at the door turned to face the coming Legionnaire's and met a steel plated fist to his face. Hadvar did not stop when his fist connected and pommeled through the man. He was unconscious when he hit the ground.

"Damn." Hadvar groaned as he shook his fingers loose. He looked to me with a nod before kicking in the door. Whoever taught him did well. I wish I could say it was myself.

My sword slid into the stomach of the first man to charge at me. Turning to the next man I punched him hard enough to send him reeling. When he looked down he saw my sword speared through his chest.

It was little more than slaughter for the living guards against us. Most were untrained farmers who pledged their souls to the dragons. They fell quickly as we cleansed the ruin. I stood at the altar and looked at all the mass below me. People were screaming, noncombatants who had refused to leave. I saw my men trying to clear them out. More of the Legion, must have been Hadvar's men, pouring from the entrance while the Draugr began to shamble their way towards my men. They were slow, but strong.

The Legion tactic of using shields and letting the opponent crash against you while you wear them out and strike was not working. These opponents did not wear out. They just kept swinging and their strength never lessoned. Eventually our shields began to crack.

"Men, use anything you have. The shield wall won't last!" I shouted over the din of the battle. I was thankful for the bravery of my men. Imperial, Breton, Nord, and Orc, anyone in the Legion armor was fighting with intensity I had not seen in quite a while. The Stormcloaks had whipped the fight out of us. The tide was turned in our favor.

Until two figures walked into the fray. Well one walked and the other did some odd floating thing. It was not something I had seen before. It was undead like its minions, but it glowed with energy. Its robes were tattered but it had a bronze looking mask over where its long rotten face would be.

The man next to the undead walked with a confidence unseen in centuries. He carried a staff with a black soul gem at the top. I could not see much more than that through the chaos around me. He had no mask and looked like any Nordic man. Large beard that matched his long red hair. He used his staff to cast spells or to knock away any who came to close. Flames leapt from his hands and landed in groups of people, Imperial undead and civilian alike. The undead priest turned and spoke in some strange language before a purple orb appeared in its hand.

With a flick of the wrist the orb grew to the size of the man, it was a portal! A portal to what? With a grim and displeased nod the living priest stepped into the portal and disappeared.

Volsung turned and floated through the battle. Ice spikes shot from his hands and impaled my soldiers. I took off after him. Hadvar had apparently seen the same as I from the other side of the battlefield and came to the same conclusion.

Volsung saw us and another portal opened. This time a large lumbering wall of ice stepped out and let out a screech. Hadvar merely raised his weapon above his head before we collided with the undead and his atronach.