Prologue

The sun was starting to set giving the evening sky a desolate orange haze, peering over the thick peaks of pine from the trees. Rodhin was stirred awake from the chirps of crickets and other night critters that bark when the moons start to rise. His muscle were stiff from laying slumped against the tree stump hidden from the thick bushes a few meters from where the snares he had set earlier. He got to his feet no less walking over to his rabbit traps. It was a long hunt, and Rodhin spent most of his time tracking an bull elk to no avail, so he settled for the smaller game, setting good bait for when the hares decided to peer over. He was in luck, three meaty rabbit were all caught, necks snapped and recent to, making all the meat even fresher. Taking them from the traps, Rodhin gathers the hares as well as his other hunting gear all set with his pack, ready to head home.

His cottage was but a mile out of the woods into the open valley near the center of Whiterun Hold. Judging the time on how the sun was fading downward into the horizon, Rodhin guessed that his wife Jodli had already started preparing supper. She had said earlier that she'll make a good stew with cabbage and carrots she had grown in her garden and whatever meat Rodhin had managed to catch. His wife's stew... Rodhin's stomach had let him know that it had been thinking the same thing with a growl.

He was on the market road towards his home when he could smell the vegetables already steaming in a pot. His home was a small wooden cottage settled on a few acres gifted to him by the jarl, the house he took pride in for he built it himself, a large area meant for the kitchen/dining room where it could used as a living area due to the wide cooking pit for a fire to sit around, it had one bedroom sectioned off to where he and his wife slept. The land they had was fertile enough for his wife to have some vegetables and wheat grow, along with a cow he had bought to graze in.

Rodhin was greeted first by his hound, a shaggy dog near on his fifth year showing his age with the graying in his fur. The dog being so old and slow, Rodhin had decided not to take him on the hunt instead letting him rest in his usual spot outside the door. The dog raised his head wagging his tongue as a "Hello" onto where Rodhin pat him on the head, opening the door. Coming inside he was met with a whaff smell of stew brewing on a hot fire. Joldi was at a counter chopping a carrot when she spots her husband coming in. She brushes over across the room to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, taking the rack of rabbits from his backpack. "Good." She says, "I'll skin these quick for the broth."

"I should've skin them before heading home." said Rodhin, setting his pack and bow down. "That way we could've had supper sooner."

"You don't skin them thorough." spoke Joldi, she had already tempered one of the rabbits, taking a knife and making small incision at the neck, peeling the fur back showing raw pink meat. Rodhin chuckled a smile, nord women were thick hearty beings, set in their ways with no man they want nor look for to be coddled with. "How's our lad?" Rodhin spoke.

"He was napping earlier, you should check on him." Joldi spoke, still busy cleaning the furs of the hares.

Coming into their bedroom, Rodhin sees the cradle next to their bed with a tiny murmur spurring from it. He smiled brightly as he walked over. "How's my shield-breaker huh?" He beamed picking up his year old son. His son had every aspect a nord child would seem, fair skin broad shoulders, he almost look to have the likeness of his father yet had his mother's features on that of his thick brown hair and crystal blue eyes, onto where Rodhin had dark dirty blonde hair and palish gray.

The boy smiled and giggled at the sight of his father as Rodhin took him into his arms and bounced him a little. "Did you give your mother trouble when I was gone?" He cooed. "It wouldn't be so bad, there's fun doing that." Rodhin laughed. He walks his son around the room noticing the boy's fixation on the imperial legion officer's helmet resting on a small table of its own, along with a brightly silver spatha resting in it sheath. A gift for his discharge from the legion after the war no doubt. "See the sword son?" Rodhin, Rodhin took the blade, easily sliding from its scabbard, it beaming in its glow. "You've got a warrior's heart I know it." Rodhin quickly put the blade out of reach when his son raised his hand towards it. "But..." He sheaths his sword "Theirs is more to Skyrim other than being best warriors of the emperor's army."

Rodhin reaches into his shirt, touching his necklace, showing his son a pendant, it was made of smooth obsidian carved into a sword piercing into axe's blade forming a cross almost. "Talos the hero of mankind and founder of the empire was that of you and me a mortal who ascended into god hood. Born in the ancient homeland of Atmora, Talos conquered Tamriel and created the Empire. His words are: Be strong for war. Be bold against enemies and evil and defend the people of Tamriel."

His son reaches out to touch the smooth pendant, "Your mother made me this before our war with the elves. Back when she was still a priestess of Talos's temple. When you were born I wrote this into the pendant." He then shows his son the name etched in it in an old language than none speak anymore. "Rohan." said Rodhin, "That is your name, it means balanced hero in the old tongue." He then points to a small symbol, it was an astrological sign of a star. "The serpent, that was the sign you were born under. It is an impractical sign which would give you an edge. The unpredictable are always the better in battle."

"Dear bring our boy, supper will be ready soon." Joldi.

Coming towards their living area watching as Joldi finished cooking, Rodhin sat down still bouncing their son in his arms. "Any word from Windhelm?" Joldi asked, still cooking.

"If saying have I talked to Ulfric I haven't, not sense Markarth." Rodhin said.

Joldi was chopping a potato when she paused in deep thought. "What ails you?" Rodhin asked.

"I just wished... you two didn't grow so distant." Joldi somberly spoked. "Ever since..."

"The war changed him my love. I fail the man I once knew." said Rodhin.

Joldi turned back to her potatoes "The war has changed everyone."

At dinner, Rodhin was slurping down big gulps of his wife's stew while Joldi cradled their baby, feeding him small spoonfuls. "You like rabbit don't you ?"Joldi cooed snuggling her baby's nose with her's. Her son responded with a giggly laugh.

"Best stew you've made my love." said Rodhin finishing his bowl and looking to make another serving for himself.

"You say that about my cooking all the time." Joldi said rolling her eyes sounding ever so nonchalant.

"You're a good cook." Her husband smiled.

"Maybe I should dial it down then." she says, "You're looking to put on weight."

Rodhin went red in the cheeks and instantly took a glance at his stomach trying to see if fat was indeed obviously showing. "I'm only joking love." Joldi laughed. "Go and make yourself another bowl, we should still have some left in the pot."

Rodhin only gave her a stern look, "I'm not sure. Not after you said something."

His words were cut short at the sudden barking coming from the dog outside. Usually the dog never makes a sound only when someone approached their home And that it was a for a loud boom of knock rapt at the door. It was late for visitors and neither Rodhin nor Joldi was expecting anyone.

"Who goes there!" yelled Rodhin.

"Representatives of the Aldmeri Dominion!" said a smooth polite yet stringent voice on the other side. "We would like word, if you please!"

A coldness strapped both Rodhin and Joldi to the bone as bitter as morning air on a mountain top. "Take him to the back." spoke Rodhin, quietly yet urgent, "And stay there!"

Joldi was a bit hesitant, "But husband...

"NOW!"

Doing as told, Joldi, cradled her son close, going to their bedroom but stops midway. "Rodhin wait." she said in quick whisper. Rodhin instantly knew what she was referring to and quickly top the neck from his person handing it to her before she ran off to the other room.

Rodhin waited for his wife to close the door before getting up from his seat to open the front. Slowly opening the door, Rodhin was met with small group of altmer. There were three of them, two were golden plated armor etched in the way of that of an eagle's likeness both armor with glass made swords jeweled with ornament decoration. The high elf leading them was no in armor but black leather robes, a dark hood over his head covering his sharp ears and hair, leaving nothing but those peering golden eyes of his. The elf was tall, peering over Rodhin if by a few inches more. A small blonde beard was at the tip of his chin, and look to have grown a smile at the sight of Rodhin.

"Good evening." the elf spoke. "I am Ondolemar, first justicar of the Thalmor corps and representative of her elegance emissary Elenwen."

Rodhin knew who he was yet did not speak nor offer to gesture the elf inside. Ondolemar only kept smiling with his sinister polite attitude. "My..." He says."Is that rabbit stew I smell?"

Rodhin waited for the elf to set down the wooden bowl after taking a few generous gulps while his personal guard remained standing flanked close by to their charge. "Hmmm... delightful." The elf says, Ondolemar flashed a smile showing his bright teeth, Rodhin was a bit stirred by the elf's maw, it was as if he could see fangs on just how straight the elf's teeth were. "Compliments to your wife." Ondolemar spoke, "Is she around by chance?"

"She's out seeing to personal matters." Rodhin spoke bluntly and loud, giving the elf the hint to change the subject immediately.

"Hmmm, yes well I'd say she is a tremendous cook."

"You did not come out here to the countryside to try my wife's cooking."

Ondolemar golden eyes flashed right into Rodhin's and smirked, "No, not really." He then reaches into the pocket of his black coat and pulls out a tiny booklet wrapped in black leather to that his outfit. The sigil of Aldmeri Dominion etched on it in gold stitching. "I know much of you, Rodhin Stormblade." said Ondolemar, flipping through the book then taking out an owl feather quill. He then looks around for a moment, "I say... do you have ink?"

Rodhin stirred from his slouched posture looking around to the shelves knowing his wife kept their pen and parchment supplies somewhere. "No matter." the elf spoke keeping Rodhin from getting from his seat. The hand holding quill then let out a faint golden hue giving the feather a tiny blue glow. The quill was able to show writing as he showed by scribbling down a few illegible words Rodhin could not understood, it seemed the elf was writing in his eleven tongue. Rodhin saw his plenty of magic during war but never see it used so conveniently that it gave Rodhin the sign that this Ondolemar was very capable mage, a sign a gloat perhaps or a warning.

"During the war you served in the tenth cohort holding the rank of centurion am I correct?" Ondolemar spoke not looking at Rodhin only keeping to his writing in his book.

"Yes." Rodhin said plainly wanting to keep his answer short for he did not wish to give the thalmor any alarm of suspicion.

"Not many nords held that rank, good for you." Ondolemar sounded non attentive to the compliment.

"The tenth legionary cohort were made up of almost completely nords, our commanding officer, General Caius thought it was suited to have a nord as his first ranking officer." Rodhin spoke.

"Yes I have a few dossiers on your service by General Caius..." Ondolemar held his book close as if trying to read it thoroughly. "During the recapture of the imperial city, Centurion StormBlade manage to take the first unit of the tenth cohort through the southern entrance of the waterfront district in an effort to flank the enemy.

During this master plan, StormBlade had routed enemy forces regrouping with Emperor Mede's vanguard and lead a front ward attack that would lead to the control of the White Gold Tower."

Ondolemar sat than sat his book down to do a small clap, "Well done Centurion. You're a true officer worth merit judging by how Caius describe your efforts during the battle of... what was it your empire called it?"

"Battle of the Red Ring." Rodhin injected.

"Yes, I'm sure imperial quaestors, scribes and archivist have already etched this for the records." Ondolemar went back to his book, "It was stated that there were other nord officers of note in your former unit." He then read off the names, "A Rikke Iron-Fur, Galmar Stone-Fist and..."

Rodhin could feel a tinge of sweat forming for he knew the next name Ondolemar was set to say but kept his face emotionless. "Ulfric Stormcloak." Ondolemar had spoken very clearly giving the Rodhin the hint on the importance of the last person mentioned.

"Now Rikke I've known had been promoted to a Legatus and Galmar is unimportant to me but it's this Ulfric that concerns me."

In the other room, Joldi kept her son nuzzled to her bosom calming him to keep quiet as she sat on a chair near their bedroom door, peaking through a crack of the wooden wall that separated their room from the rest of the house, the tiny little hole gave her a clear view of her husband sitting at the table with the elven wizard and armed guardsmen.

"Is that why you're here?" Rodhin spoke wanting the elf to quit with the vagueness of his presence and get onto the point. Enduring every minute of these Thalmor in his home at his table was agonizing.

"In a sense yes." Ondolemar said cooly. "See I know many things about you Stormblade and not just your military history."

"Such as." Rodhin said loudly showing a sign of offense.

"Such as I know that you are originally from Windhelm and that your wife was once a priestess of Talos." Ondolemar said, snaking his interjection like a punch to the gut.

Rodhin's tone had simmered down and the slight cold fear burrowed into once again at the mention of his wife. "She is a priestess no longer. After the Jarls uphold the decree you forced the emperor to sign that concordant or whatever, her monastery was shut down and she no longer took the part of practice Talos worship."

"Yes and that angered you." Ondolemar said try to finish off on Rodhin's words, "And thus why you marched with Ulfric Stormcloak to Markarth in the hopes of regaining the effort to worship your false god."

"So you want to know what happened? The official story on what we did to those bretons!?" Rodhin yelled. Ondolemar remained silent waiting for the nord to tell his tale.

"Monstrous things, I had initially thought we were to fight forsworn, they were no more than common bandits to me but once we arrived during our first battle with them... it was as if we had gone back to the ancient days of our ancestors. Raiding homes, plundering and taking everything in our sight, men... raping women." Rodhin turned his gaze away from the elf as if ashamed thinking back on it. "And Ulfric did not care. Nothing but anger consumed him, he thought fending off the bretons and returning the worship of Talos would regain himself a sense of honor. The Great War took a toll on him."

"So is that an excuse? Ulfric was just a battered old soldier?" Ondolemar replied.

Rodhin's face straighten and he looked back up to the elf. "No." He said plainly, "I turned myself in when Jarl Hroldir arrived with his imperial contingent. As I made Ulfric complied. We haven't spoken sense Markarth."

"And you were shortly released arriving here in Whiterun, wanting to enjoy a simple mundane life on this shanty of a farmstead how generic." Ondolemar teased writing into his book. "Such a simple for a man who isn't so simple."

"I have seen nor been in contact with Ulfric since Markarth. That's the truth!" Rodhin snapped.

"I don't care about Ulfric." Ondolemar was then giving Rodhin a hard look. "As I said before I'm here in a sense on his behalf but that will be the official report we will give to the every known deputy and head of state within Skyrim and other provinces of the Empire. The unofficial reason, is I am here mainly for you, Rodhin Stormblade."

Rodhin fear quickly turned into a deep state of confusion. Ondolemar picked up on that and spoke to clarify. "Let's go back to the battle of the Red Ring yes? You regroup with Emperor Titus Mede's forces and together you laid siege of the White Gold Tower, what happened then? Does Lord Naarifin come to mind?"

"He was the general of your Dominion forces right?"

"Correct he was bested in battle, hung from the tower and there were witness reports of him taken by some winged creature. His whereabouts are currently unknown. We currently under the investigation on finding him."

"He worshiped a Deadra did he not? Why not ask them?" Rodhin said with dry defiance.

Ondoelmar showed no amusement, "I'd rather ask you instead."

"What do I know!?" Rodhin snapped. "What ever you are accusing me of I won't have it! Not in my own home!" He barks, slamming his fist on the table. In the other room Joldi cradled her son close to her bosom as to keep him calm for they were both disturbed by the loudness. The little baby letting out a soft coo.

Ondoelmar remained unchanged from his still yet cool demeanor. "No one is accusing you of anything. We merely wanting you to answer questions."

"Then ask your damn questions!" Rodhin snarled through gleaming teeth his paitence was completely drawn out and anger floored him, "Then be well on your way out of my home! And out of Skyrim for the matter!"

The elf then let out a sly laugh, beginning to rise from his seat, "We will leave your...home." His piercing golden eyes darting around showing an obvious distaste for the nord's accommodations. "If you could call it a home..." He murmured. "But you will have to come with us."

Rodhin's anger shot down, and the sharp tinge of fearfulness quips him again. "Wha...what?!"

"Under the righteous authority of the Aldmeri Dominion behest by your Emperor I have the authority to gather and detain suspects and or person of interests that could prove an insurgent with the peace under the rules of the White Gold Concordant." Ondolemar spoke, reading off as if this was well rehearsed. It probably was due to the fact he has said this with multiple residents within Skyrim.

"What charge?" Rodhin spoke, not loud but a voice of pure defiance.

"As I said before, you are a person of interests." The elf says calmly. "NOW." His voice then perks up into a booming command. "Come with me."

"No!" A voice echoes out, bursting from the Joldi storms out from her room. Her face taught with anger but she the stillness enough to set her son safely in his crib to on which she had then taken a large sharply fine steel dagger. She gripping it tight in her right hand, forming into a stance as if she was ready to pounce. Ondolemar seemed unfazed yet his armed troops were alert and drawn their weapons as well. One with a glass mace the other a sharp glass sword.

Rodhin had quickly gotten up to his feet fearful now for his wife. "Joldi! No!"

"So this is the wife then?" Ondolemar sly smile pursed his angled face. "Back from handling those personal matters I presume? Great stew by the way, I have to admit ever since I've come to Skyrim I've been having quite the taste for it, it's rather embarrassing really." He giggled.

"He isn't coming with you. You're not taking him." Joldi growled. She remained unmoved from her attack position.

"Joldi think about what you're doing!" Rodhin pleads.

"I won't let them have you!" Joldi yells back, her eyes still on the elves.

"Please my love..."

"They already know of you! I cannot let them take you!"

Ondolemar then steps forward now standing close Joldi not moved by the steel dagger that pointed directly to sternum. "Listen to your husband my dear. You are in a battle you won't win."

Joldi glared up into the Altmer's golden eyes and sneered. "The elves didn't think Ysgramor could conquer Skyrim with just five hundred men."

Ondolemarr smiled. "Is that so."

No one not noticing that his hands were kept behind his back, Ondolemar conjured a spell that in a quick snap of his finger a bright haze of light flared out with an after shock that pulsed the room. The full power of the spell hit Joldi directly and it did not take but a second to realize that she had been hit by a thunder bolt. Her body went numb as she was in a quick state of paralysis yet Ondolemar catches her before she could fall to the floor.

"NO!" yelled Rodhin, everything happened so suddenly that it took a late second to react. He quickly lunged forward but elf armed with the sword quickly reacted to stop him. Before the elf could strike, Rodhin jerked to his left out of the blade's path and quickly latch on to the elf's armed wrist. Using both his hands he twists onto the elf's arm, sharp burning pain shooting up into the thalmor soldier's arm causing him to let lose of his weapon. This was an old disarming trick Rodhin had learned during his days in the legion. Rodhin then quickly takes the elf's glass sword, turning it so he was now holding the hilt with the blade facing forward towards the elf in a swift motion that it all happened at once, he runs the sword into the elf's gut. The glass sword cutting through the elf's armor effortlessly piercing him into the fact that now everyone could see the sword poking from the other side.

The thalmor went down dead to the floor with the other soldier armed with the mace being quick to respond. The she-elf charges with her mace risen above her head, Rodhin quickly blocked the strike with the sword. The blocked had enough force to push the soldier back stumbling on her feet for her footing was no misplace from the exertion. That was Rodhin's chance to come in for a huge blow, perhaps the one that finished her but before Rodhin could finish his charge Ondolemar spoke. "Ah...Ah...Ah." He sung.

Rodhin stopped in his pace looking towards the elven mage who was now holding his wife, the dagger she once had now in the elf's hand and to her throat.

"Joldi..." Rodhin gasps.

A loud howl of a baby's cries hollers out from the other room, it seem the baby was disturbed from all the commotion. "What's this now?" Ondolemar says, glancing back to the room. "A baby?"

Tears quickly flowed from Joldi's eyes as she could tell how scared her son was from the holler of his cries and how she is now helpless to tend to him. Rodhin drops the sword as well as dropping to his knees. "Please... I'll go with you..." He says, trembling with tears starting to form of his own. The other soldier quickly took the sword from Rodhin's reach and then got a small sense of petty revenge by striking her pommel onto the nord's face.

Ondolemar perked up an eyebrow "Really?"

"Yes!" Rodhin cried out his nose now streaming blood, "Just don't hurt my wife and son I...I beg of ya!"

"You beg..." Ondolemar trailed on. A silence then purse though with only the sound of the baby still crying in dire need of his parents. Joldi couldn't bear so she first spoke out. "Pl...please, let me tend my son." She speaks in a tearful stutter. "He needs me..."

"Ssssssh." Ondolemar says softly into her ear. "Settle yourself now." The blade still pressed onto Joldi's neck.

"See how difficult this has gotten?" Ondolemar continued. "Difficult. You nords are all difficult. It's one of the main reasons why I don't like nords. That and it is because you're vermin. I know it sounds harsh but that is the cold hard truth. You are nothing but vermin, fumbling around in a land you stole on a continent that was never your home!"

Ondolemar turned his gazed onto to Rodhin, "You're wife is right you know. We know of you and I especially know who you are. Centurion. In fact it would be safer for me and my organization to kill you." And just as said that, Ondolemar casually slid the blade across Joldi's neck. A sharp stream of blood pouring from her throat going all the way across.

"NOOO!" Rodhin howled getting to his feet charging towards his wife. Ondolemar waited for Rodhin to get close and in a swift motion brought the blade into his stomach. Rodhin to concern for his wife that he was forgetful that the elf was still armed. Rodhin went down to the floor with a thud gripping his stomach knowing that wound was deep an organs were pierced. He was bleeding internally and slowly now.

But he was still conscious enough to start dragging himself to wife's now pale body.

Ondolemar stood by smiling and watched. "That's it Rodhin your nearly there!" He cheered mockingly watching as the nord helplessly drags his bloodied body along the wooden floor, using on hand to pull himself while the other hand kept to his wound trying to hold in any blood along with his entrails.

Rodhin was finally close enough to reach out to Joldi who was now as cold as a glacier, he said nothing only staring at his wife with wide shaking eyes. "Jol...Joldi..."

Ondolemar then comes kneeling down while bringing the dagger into Rodhin's back. Rodhin let out a croak with blood now spewing from his mouth. "Behold the future. Behold the Thalmor." Ondolemar hissed into his ear. "Thanks for the stew again. I enjoyed my visit."

Rodhin head went limp hitting the floor, now the nord laid dead with his wife.

Ondolemar got to his feet, leaving the dagger into the dead nord's back, dusting his hands. "That went rather smoothly."

The other soldier smiled and nodded her head, "Of course sir." She speaks.

Ondolemar shot her a glare "Don't speak to me unless I talk to you directly!" He barked.

The soldier's smile that evaporated and she quickly nods her head apologetically. "Of course sir! Apologies!"

Ondolemar looked to the other thalmor soldier who was now a corpse. "Pathetic ingrate." Ondolemar spat, he goes to the door. "Burn this hovel of a home."

"But sir..." said the soldier, "What about the child?"

She was indicating to the other room on where the baby could still be heard in sorrowful screams.

Ondolemar stopped in the doorway not looking back, "What child?" He says nonchalantly before stepping away.

The soldier was quick in her master's order to burn the house. Casting a flames spell, the soldier focused her magic on the roof since it was a gathered mass of hay, wood and brittle tile. The flames roared drowning out the baby's unbroken cries. Powerful lungs that baby must have. The soldier thought. But the elf ignored it further and walked out of the now burning home.

Ondolemar was already on his black steed waiting for the soldier to be on her chestnut as he watched the flames flare up almost completely covering the home with an approved smirk. A loud crack of thunder then hollows in up above and Ondolemar could see dark clouds starting to form. Strange... He thought The sky was clear and filled with stars not just a moment ago. But his concern for the weather snuffed out of his mind seeing how weather in Skyrim was always poor for his standards. As the soldier gets onto her horse, taking the horse of her dead comrade by a rope as well, Ondolemar kicked his steed to move seeing that now their task was over.

Heavy winds kick in with a flurry of rain as lightning and thunder flashes and crackles on. The storm grew to its might fast into such a fury that it was beyond the usual heavy storm that came to Skyrim. It almost seemed that it was not bipolar weather that the elf had thought was the cause of this now great storm but as if by chance or maybe intervention from a higher source that made the weather come so suddenly, flushing out the flames of the home quickly before the fire had touched the baby's crib. The baby's cries then quiets out softly. Cool rain only causing him to murmur uncomfortably.

Soon the flames were all gone, leaving nothing but a burned mash of charred wood and hay, the baby in his crib, a blanket atop of him with a necklace of a black pendant draped around his neck. A host mist of smoke came from the ruins of the home as now the rains had suddenly stop came to a halt. As if Kyne herself the mother of the Storm, Goddess of the Wind had intervene keeping the child from coming to harm from the flames.

Trotting down the market road out of the direction from Solitude was a one horse carriage, pulling a small cart of supplies along with a imperial couple, a man and a woman as its passengers. The driver Raxle was a blacksmith who previously was stationed in Solitude as the Imperial quartermaster at Castle Dour for the legion. He had finally finished his allotted time with the legion and now had the money to take him and his wife Maesia back to their native Cyrodiil to his home town of Chorrol.

They had been on the road the entire day since the sun had drawn. The moon Secunda had just came to view after the rains had stopped and the clouds cleared off.

"Look there!" Maesia points far off to the distance where she could faintly see clouds of smoke wafting up from somewhere nearby. The horse carriage had steered further up the road until it went to a halt for both Raxle and Maesia to see that the smoke was lifting from what looked the ruins of a small house.

"Fire from a lightning strike?" Raxle said in form of a question but his tone signaled off that was what he had concluded. He snaps his reins for it continue trotting.

"Could be?" Maesia said. "The storm was rather dreadful thankfully it was only brief."

Her husband let out a snort, "Brief or not, it delayed us. I wasn't hoping to be in Whiterun for this long."

Maesia only giggled and gave her husband a soft playful tap on the shoulder, "Stop your whining Whiterun was a beautiful city and we were both glad to see Dragonsreach so up close."

"Not as beautiful as Solitude mind you and the Blue Palace is way more..."

Maesia touched Raxle in a form of silencing him a startled if not concerned look on her face. "What?" Raxle gasped.

"I...I hear something..." She looked over coming to the burn home. "Coming from where that burned house is."

"Maesia you could be just..."

"Sssssh!" Maesia snapped rather harshly. Raxle stopped the carriage annoyed by his wife yet deter to whatever was concerning her.

Maesia strained her ears for the sound to come back to her. She heard it before, it sounded like a murmur, a faint moan, a cry almost. She listens for it again...

"MMMMRH...ooooooo!"

A strike of alarm jolted her in the back and Maesia leapt from her side of the carriage darting to where the home was. "Maesia!" Raxle cried scrambling to get off his side, chasing after his wife.

Maesia was already running across the field rushing to the home. "Someone's in there! Someone needs our help!"

Raxle frantically continue to chase for his wife but she was nearly at the home "Maesia wolves come out at this time get back to the cart woman!"

Maesia stopped standing at the blackened threshold of the door frame, panting and trying to catch her breath. The roof of the house was entirely gone but frames of where walls once stood and furniture place could still be made out from the burned smoke and ash. Maesia cautiously stepped inside to what looked like a living area and stopped dead in her tracks when she stopped to see charred remains scattered on the floor. She quickly covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming. A man and a woman for what it looked like judging by the frame of their body, another body was a distance away from the two but Maesia could not tell what it was. "Elf maybe?" It looked slim enough. She was ready to turn away and leave, taking a step back out of the door when the soft murmur echoes again. Maesia stopped and turn to her left to the direction that could've been a bedroom of some sort.

Raxle had finally caught up to her. "Maesia we need to..." His wife ignored only stepping away from him going to where a bedroom had once been. Raxle went further in to follow her, seeing the burned bodies on the floor. "Stendaar's mercy!" He gasped.

Maesia oblivious to her husband followed the murmuring to where a crumbled piece of cradle remained nestled atop a soft mound of hay. Shaking she crept over to it, kneeling down where something was writhing under a blue blanket. She pulls the cover back and her eyes grow wide.

There unharmed and unburnt was a baby. The baby whined and cooed but stopped it crying when he saw Maesia looking down on him, a smile grew across his face. The smile was so pleasant that Maesia smiled back at him, tears coming down her eyes. "By all the Divines!" She cried picking up the baby.

Raxle storms in shocked into disbelief to see what his wife was holding. He stood frozen unable to form words as his mind raced trying asses what he was looking at.

"It's a boy Raxle." Maesia said, "Broad shouldered, fair skin, a nord."

"And he was just... laying there?"

Maesia nodded her head, "Mara kept him under her watchful gaze."

"But...but...Maesia..." Raxle knew what was running through his wife's head, he knew she was angling for something out of this and he was not sure if he could go through with it.

"This is a sign Raxle!"

"A sign?!"

Maesia walked close towards her husband, the baby still in her arms. "How many times we've tried for a child of our own...and failed...how many times have I've made offering to Dibella and to Mara!?"

"He could still have family, we just can't take him from his homeland!"

"Look behind you Raxle!" Maesia gestured to the massacre behind them. "He has no family, no home."

She then places a hand on Raxle face and smiled, "Don't you see husband, this is a sign, the divines lead us to him."

Raxle looked to his wife and then to baby who's bright blue eyes stared into his grey ones. And then his heart felt as if it was melting. "Let's...go back to the cart...we don't want anyone stealing it." He says somberly. It was a tone giving Maesia the hint that he was agreeing.

Maesia wrapped the blanket she found the boy in tightly around the baby waiting for Raxle to climb in and take the horse's reins. He looked over to baby once more before smiling, then something caught his eye. The baby had a necklace with a dark pendant on it. The baby having it in its hand playing with it by biting it. "What's that?" He says pointing.

Maesia took the pendant and studied for a moment. "It's an amulet of some sort."

Raxle went wide for instantly recognized it, "An amulet of Talos!? Maesia he can't keep that, having something referring to the ninth Divine is forbidden!"

Maesia shot Raxle a glare and looked back pleasantly to the baby, "It's his, I'm not getting rid of it. We'll hide it once we get to Cyrodiil but I won't take away something that pertains to his homeland." She said sternly. She then looked to the back of it, rubbing her thumb on the strange etchings. Raxle saw them too. "What's that there?"

Maesia studied them closely, "Its...in dragon! I've seen this language before back on my studies on early Nord history during my time at the College of Winterhold."

"You were archivists for those mages for only but a few years Maesia." said Raxle rolling his eyes, "You act like your some sort of moth priest."

Maesia ignored her husband's japes, "Now my study in the dragon tongue is brief but I recognize some of the words, I knew a man who used to work with the Blades who helped me identify their alphabet. Now..." She read it closely, "Ro...Rohan. That's what it says...yes. I think maybe Raxle...that this is his name!"

"Rohan eh? Well it suits him, he's a nord after all." Raxle snapped the reins and the horse began its walk.

"A nord and our son." said Maesia.

A smile grew across Raxle's face. "Yes