Mori Pro Imperio: The Story of Pliton Calleius

“Father,” I told him over the link, “I’m coming back to you.”

“What’s happened to you?” He asked, “I felt intense rage over the link. Anything happen, did you find the Daedra?”

“No,” I said, “When I told you I would go out front, I actually went south to look for the Daedra.”

“What the hell?” Father asked indignantly. “I thought I told you we weren’t going south!”

“I know,” I said, “But hear me out. Twilight gave me the plan, only she wasn’t Twilight. She was a Changeling, named Witchthought, who was one of Queen Chrysalis’ top agents.”

“Well that explains the rage.” Father said, “What did you do to her?”

“I killed her.” I explained, “I used my fire magic to burn her until there was nothing left. She kept regenerating her wounds, which was why it took me so long. I’m sorry, Father, but I was lured into a trap.”

“Just get back here.” He said coldly over the link, “You can’t just abandon us and get away unscathed.”

“I understand.” I said, “I should meet up with you tonight.”

“Alright then,” he replied, “Hurry up.”

He then said goodbye, and he told me to shut down the link. I complied, and rode throughout the afternoon and evening towards Father, and the punishment that awaited me. The combined effects of using so much magic to kill Witchthought and closing down the link greatly tired me. I hung onto the horse’s reigns, and dozed off.

I woke up only minutes later, feeling energized. Somehow, short naps strangely left me energized. I giddied the horse, and began to look for Father, as I had entered the mountains.

I saw smoke in the setting sun, and rode towards it. I found the Imperial camp, and left my horse in the care of the quartermaster. I got off the steed, and walked over to Father.

“Sir,” I said in a military tone, “I surrender myself for any disciplinary actions.”

“Like I needed your approval,” Father scoffed. “What you did was unprofessional, childish, headstrong, undermining, dastardly, and plain rude. I told you we would stay here, but you still left us and went south. This is what a child does when he doesn’t get his way, not a Legate in the damn Imperial Legion! I can’t comprehend the stupidity you showed me today!

“I should lock you up for what you did,” he said, “But Princess Celestia has appealed on your behalf. I can’t touch you this time. But I was allowed to chew you out. I hope you know that the next time you show a stunt like this, even Akatosh above won’t be able to help you! Now, get out of my sight. I am ashamed to call you my son right now.”

I kept my composure, saluted him, and walked out of his tent. Puruseius walked up to me, and slapped me.

“I apologize, sir.” She said, “But what you did was not something someone your rank should do.”

“I understand, Quaestor.” I said coldly and dismissively, “But someone your rank shouldn’t assault her superior officer!”

“Sir,” she said, “I apologize for my…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Quaestor!” I shouted at her, “Leave my sight now, before I do something worse than just chastise you.”

She walked away. I stole off for an isolated clearing in the woods. I lit a fire, and sat on a log. I looked into the flames, and let the tears go. My only love had been stolen from me, and I had no means of knowing where she was. She could be in Oblivion, or she could be in Equestria or the Summerset Isles for all I know!

The sheer thought that I had slept with a Changeling only posing as Twilight also angered me and made me feel untrue to her. How was I to know that she was a Changeling? How was I to know that I was being conspired against by Chrysalis and the Changelings?

I cried, and I cried. I let the fire die, and I rolled out my bedroll. The last time this had been rolled out, I was a day away from Hegathe, and Twilight and I had held each other, keeping each other warm from the cold desert winds.

I slept miserably that night. I was plagued by nightmares of Twilight being tortured, raped, and even killed by Molag Bal and Chrysalis kept me from descending into a deep sleep.

I awoke groggy and miserable the next morning. I rolled up the bedroll, and formed up with Father. He was still cold and dismissive towards me, which only soured my mood. I knew now that we were going to stay in the Ogres Tooth Mountains until we had searched every inch of the range.

It also didn’t help that it started pouring rain by the bucketful once we started marching. Our horses got stuck and slid in the mush the road had turned into. My mood soured even more because of this, and it seemed nothing would lift me out of this.

“This is just great.” I mumbled to myself. I was punished, attacked, and yelled at all in one day. And now, it was raining; just my luck.

We marched, until someone came up and said that the road ahead looked as though a lot of people had moved over it recently.

“Double time,” Father said, “We found the bastards!”

We then moved at a pace fast enough for our horses to go into a quick trot. I strung my bow, and tested a few spells. I was itching for a battle, and to find out what happened to Twilight.

The thought of her crying out to me haunted me the night before.

“SHE’S A CHANGELING! CHRYSALIS HAS ME…”

Has her where? In Equestria, in Oblivion, she could be anywhere. I figured that when I tell Princess Celestia this, she would know. She would have to know.

We went on for about an hour, until we came to the southern plains. We saw a large mass moving across the plains, heading for Stros M’Kai.

“There they are.” Father growled. “Men, this is it! No mercy for the enemy, no prisoners!”

The response was a unanimous shout of approval. Father reared his horse back, and looked to his men.

“Cavalry,” he ordered, “Suppress their advance while the archers provide covering fire.”

“Yes sir,” I said, about to gallop off with the cavalry.

“We don’t want you going out there alone.” Father said, gripping my arm. “You did die the last time you did that.”

He did have a point. I stayed back, and watched as the hundreds of horsemen galloped towards the army, while the archers strung their bows, and loaded them.

“Archers,” Father called, “Fire!”

Three hundred steel arrows flew through the sky, and impacted the army. Father smiled at this, and looked to his Legate.

“Order the infantry to move forward.” He said, “My son and I are going to take a look-see down there.”

“Yes General Calleius.” The Legate saluted. “Infantry, move forward!”

“Let’s get going, Pliton.” Father said, “I know you’ve been waiting for this.”

“You know it, Father.” I said, galloping alongside his horse.

“About that Changeling,” Father said, “What was her name?”

“Witchthought.” I said, “Her name was Witchthought. I killed her.”

“With what, exactly?” Father asked. “I’m curious to know.”

“With magic.” I answered gravelly, “I roasted her a thousand times. She kept regenerating, until she boiled from the inside out.”

“Harsh.” Father said, “You are my son.”

I only nodded. My thoughts went back to the fight. For all the bragging she did, she sure did die quickly and easily. She was no match for my magic, and she paid the price. Though something nagged inside me, as if I knew I would meet her again.

Preposterous, I thought, I burned her to a crisp. There’s nothing left. Still, she died a bit too easily.

I shook the thoughts out of my head as we neared the site of the battle. Our cavalry had caught the Daedra off guard, and were mowing them down. Arrows rained from above, lodging themselves into eyes, chests, and heads. The screams of agony made me cringe, but I thought of the fight ahead.

I lowered my lance. We were nearing the front line of the Daedric defense.

I rammed into their lines, running a few of them through my lance, making a Daedra shish-kebab.
I dropped my lance, and drew my sword. I cut through a Scamp’s chest, and forced a few back with a kinetic blast. I felt exhilarated again, as though the past few hours were erased.

I looked to my side, thinking I would see Twilight, but it was taken up by an Imperial cavalryman. I sighed, as I remembered she was held hostage somewhere I didn’t know. That only intensified my rage, and I took it out on the enemy.
I turned my horse, so that my left side was facing the Daedra. I raised my left hand, and unleashed a fireball spell, which enveloped quite a few Daedra.

My horse reared over, and I cut a long gash along a Dremora’s face. It fell to the ground, and I made the horse land its hooves onto its chest.

I unleashed another fireball into the Daedric army, watching as a half a dozen were incinerated by the intense heat. I sheathed my sword, and rode farther into the force, using both my hands to use magic.

I launched a flurry of Ice Spikes into five Dremora’s chests. Immediately after seeing them fall, I shocked ten Daedra out of their armor. The adrenaline fueled my magic, making it more powerful and able to be sustained longer.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before my horse was chopped down. I landed on my feet, and drew my sword. I turned, and burned three Daedra. I turned around, and cut across another’s chest.

The Daedra were surrounding me in a circle, and they were attacking me at once. I sidestepped one attack only to narrowly miss another.

Damn, I thought, I’m in deep trouble now.

I thought that until the Imperials broke through the Daedric lines, and came to assist me. Father was right behind them, and instructed me to get on.

I climbed on behind him, electrocuting a Daedra on my way.

“Can’t keep you from running into battle, eh?” Father jeered, and smirked.

“No,” I said, “And I was holding my own.”

“Ha!” Father laughed, “You wouldn’t have lasted another five minutes.”

He rode the horse through the Daedric lines, hoping to find their chief officer. All the while, I was casting magic and slashing through countless Daedra.

We had caught the Daedra by surprise; we were cutting through them. Although we were taking noticeable casualties, we were killing much more Daedra.

“Hold on!” Father called as he leaped the horse off a catapult, landing ten feet in front of it. The sensation of flying through the air felt golden; I hadn’t felt it in weeks, not since I first encountered Mehrunes Dagon.

We found the Dremora General commanding the Daedric defense, not thirty feet away. Father kicked the horse, and we galloped at full speed towards it. I was burning, electrocuting, freezing and cutting apart so many Daedra. I was growing exhausted; I couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

It all seemed to go in slow motion. As Father was racing towards the General’s Guard, I was slicing Daedra with my sword. One fell without a head as we raced past the archers. The others were incinerated by my fire, and there was not much left of them.

Father stopped his horse in front of the General, and he stepped off. He walked towards the General, and went down to one knee.

The Daedra smirked, and turned to me. He only pointed at me, and the Guards surrounded me, their horses smelling of pure death.

“Father,” I called, “What the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

He turned to me, and his eyes flashed blue-green. I suddenly realized what was going on.

“You’re not my father.” I said, “Who the hell are you?”

He only laughed as he stood up. He began to change as he walked towards me and drew his sword. He was wearing a full set of Daedric Armor, without a helmet. His face was scarred, burnt and extremely marred.

“It took you this long to find out?” He asked, and laughed evilly. “So you never suspected a thing. My extreme punishments for killing Witchthought, my refusal to search elsewhere until we found evidence of General Tombshroud never tipped you off? How, sad, Pliton Calleius, you are the Champion of Talos after all.”

Anger boiled inside of me, but the Changeling only laughed.

“I see that you are angry.” He said, swinging his sword through the air, walking towards me, “But you will not kill me as easily as Witchthought. I am Warfury, the greatest warrior in the Order of Eight! I was Lady Chrysalis’ top general before Princess Celestia took over Equestria by force. She is nothing more than a dictator! The sooner you know that fact, the better.”

“She is not a dictator,” I said, readying my sword. “She is a thoughtful, considerate, and mighty monarch!”

“You really think that?” Warfury laughed, “She gave me these scars, not war. She treats the Changelings worse than any other creature not a pony. You should know this; you are in love with one, which is energizing me all the more.”

“You bastard!” I shouted at him, sending a wave of fire at Warfury. I could hear his laughter as he walked through the fire, which enveloped everything except him and the Daedric General.

Warfury laughed, and swung his sword at me. I parried it, and sparks flew. He smirked, and kicked me in the midsection. I stepped back, and he whirled around as he attacked me again. I swung my shield against his shield, and blocked the attack.

Warfury stepped back, and taunted, “Why, this is the saddest opponent I have ever seen! I have fought defenseless women who had more fighting spirit than you. Your father was a ruined man; I had fun severing all his limbs and worthless head!”

Rage enveloped me. I ran at him, and my shield connected with his face. He fell to the ground, and I let fire eat him up.

He broke through the spell, and punched me in the face. I felt my jaw break as his fist connected with my face. I spat blood into his eyes, and cut through his armor.

“Good, good,” he said, wiping the blood out of his eyes, “Kill yourself with your anger. You will leave yourself open for an attack, and I will kill you.”

I raised my left hand, and used a healing spell on myself. I snarled at him.

“You won’t.” I said, “I will be the last thing you see before my sword makes your brain an unrecognizable mush!”

“Try it.” Warfury stepped back. I dropped my shield, and we began a duel.

We attacked and blocked each other for what seemed like eons. I used magic whenever I could, but it never affected Warfury. I cursed under my breath as I tried to find a way to kill this bastard.

“Are you having trouble?” Warfury asked as we locked swords. “No one has had the pleasure of killing me. I have been living since the conception of time! No one can kill me!”

I pushed the sword lock closer towards Warfury, and smirked as his sword slipped out. I whirled around, gaining momentum for the strike. I cut through his armor, and watched as blue blood seeped from his wounds.

“I see you have wounded me.” He said, looking at his bloodstained hand. “That will be the only time you touch me.”

“We’ll see about that.” I said, slashing at his exposed neck. He blocked it with astounding speed, and countered it even faster. He made a paper-thin cut across my chest, and smirked as blood exploded from my chest.

“You bastard,” I screamed, “I’ll kill you!”

I ran towards him, and flipped over his head. I used a flame spell to burn him, and this time, he felt the pain. He screamed out, and attacked me as soon as I hit the ground.

I sent him back with a kinetic blast, and watched as he hit the ground fifteen feet away.

I grabbed my bow, and loaded an arrow. I aimed straight at his neck, and let the arrow fly. It flew towards him, but he cut the arrow in half. He ran towards me with such a speed, he should’ve teleported.

“Bad mistake,” he said, kicking me in the chest. I flew to the ground, and watched as he raised his sword.

“NO!” I screamed, using both my hands to burn him alive. He screamed out, and I got up. I picked up my bow, and let three arrows fly into his neck and head in ten seconds.

“No, no,” he said, gripping his eye, which an arrow had penetrated. “You can’t kill me. I am Warfury, the most powerful Changeling! Chrysalis answers to me, Warfury!”

All the while, I was cutting him apart. As he lost both of his arms, he looked to me.

“You,” he snarled, “You will die. I will make sure of it!”

He got up, and his arms regenerated. He ran at me, but I lit him on fire with a single spark. His entire body exploded into flames, and he screamed to the heavens. I walked over to him, and ran my sword through his heart. I twisted the sword while it was in there, and pulled it out.

“No.” He said before he hit the ground. “You… can’t kill… me.”

I stood over him, panting. He was dead, the Changeling who had posed as my Father.

I was interrupted when Tombshroud attacked me with his Warhammer. I blocked his attack, and threw him to the ground with a kinetic blast.

I sliced through his neck, and looked to the battle. We had won, and the last few Daedra were dying. I only stood over the bodies of Warfury and Tombshroud. I had beat Warfury, the Immortal Changeling.

The Imperial General’s Guard raced towards me. Their faces went from relief to disgust as they looked at me.

“What have you done?” Puruseius asked, “General Calleius, what did you do?”

“What do you mean, Quaestor?” I asked, “He was a Changeling.”

“He’s not a Changeling!” She yelled at me, “You stand over his dead body victoriously. You killed him, he was your father!”

“He was not!” I shouted back to her, “He was Warfury, a Changeling warrior!”

“Chain him up.” Puruseius called, “He’s heading to the Imperial City, and before the Elder Council!”

DUN DUN DUN! What has happened to Pliton? Why do his comrades think he killed his Father, and not Warfury? I know, but you can leave a review as to why you think this is happening. As always, please leave a review and tell me what you think! Next chapter: Pliton is in chains, and accused of murdering his Father. Will anyone believe him? Find out in the next chapter. Until then, farewell!