I woke up inside my friend's video game

Morning light streamed through the narrow, dust-streaked windows of Castle Dour, casting elongated shadows across the stone floors and bathing the grand hall in a pale, golden hue. The beams of sunlight seemed to underscore the solemnity of the moment as Jayson and his party entered with quiet determination.

Jayson led the way, his Penitus Oculatus armor gleaming with a muted brilliance that spoke of both authority and experience. The intricate designs and polished surface caught the light, giving him an almost otherworldly presence as he strode purposefully across the hall. His sharp gaze surveyed the room with a mixture of weariness and resolve, fully aware of the significance of this meeting.

As the Thane of Solitude, Jayson met my eyes and gave a brief nod. I returned the gesture as they passed through.

Following close behind was Jordis, her housecarl armor clinking softly with each step. Though worn, it was well-maintained—a testament to her steadfast loyalty and readiness. Her rigid posture and vigilant gaze reflected her unwavering commitment to Jayson.

Aldis, clad in Imperial light armor, brought up the rear. The leather and metal of his gear seemed almost delicate compared to the more formidable pieces worn by his companions. Though less imposing, his demeanor conveyed quiet competence, his gaze flickering between the ornate details of the castle and his comrades.

Belrand's presence was marked by the sturdy iron armor he wore, its rough edges and practical design a stark contrast to the polished elegance of the others. His heavy, deliberate footsteps spoke of rugged determination, as if prepared to meet any challenge head-on.

Titus, the last of the party, was encased in Imperial heavy armor, its weight making his movements deliberate but powerful. The armor's layered plates and reinforced sections underscored his role as a protector, each step resonating with authority and purpose.

As they entered the grand hall, the contrast of their varied armors, each reflecting a different facet of their roles, created a striking tableau against the morning light. The sun's rays filtering through the narrow windows painted their forms in a spectrum of shadows and highlights, emphasizing the gravity of their mission.

This was not the Jayson I once knew. He had transformed, his demeanor and presence reflecting a depth of experience, resilience, and leadership that had been absent before. Who could have imagined he would adapt so swiftly to the harsh realities of Skyrim? Perhaps it was the burning drive to find Erica that fueled his transformation, propelling him to master his new role with an urgency that spoke volumes.

The grandeur of Castle Dour's interior did little to ease the tension hanging thick in the air. The stone walls, draped with Solitude's banners, seemed to amplify the weight of our predicament. I caught glimpses of Jayson speaking earnestly to his party before they moved toward the grand hall's exit. A guard stepped forward, barring their way. "Centurion Skaldor has ordered that the Thane and his party remain within Castle Dour upon their return."

Jayson's expression shifted from calm resolve to seething anger. He strode toward the guard, an intense aura of authority emanating from him—almost as if an invisible surge of Magicka crackled in the air. His voice was firm and commanding. "By the authority granted to me by Jarl Elisif, as Thane of Solitude, I command that my party be allowed to go to the Winking Skeever to eat and rest at their own expense."

The forcefulness of his declaration was undeniable. It was as if he was asserting that they didn't need the Legion's permission; instead, the Legion needed their presence.

I smirked as the guards silently stepped aside, allowing Jayson's party to pass. I couldn't resist a quiet jest. "You've clearly leveled up your Speech skill tree, huh?"

Jayson turned slightly, offering a wry smile. "Damn right, Nikolai." His keen awareness of my comment suggested that even his stealth skills had improved. My own attempts at subtlety must have seemed trivial in comparison.

"I see you've had a wardrobe update," Jayson noted, reacting to the Thieves Guild armor I had just bought from Radiant Raiment.

He approached me, his demeanor softening. Extending his right arm, he said with genuine sincerity, "I apologize for how I acted a few weeks ago. I shouldn't have attacked you back at the Winking Skeever."

I grasped his hand firmly, a warm smile spreading across my face. "And I apologize for my words and for not fully appreciating your concerns about Erica. Let's set aside our differences and work together. We're best friends—don't shoulder this burden alone. I want to share not just a part of your pain, but all of it."

With that, we embraced in a heartfelt bro hug, the weight of past grievances melting away as we stood united once more.

Flanked by other leaders, we made our way through the corridors of Castle Dour. As we reached the central chamber, Centurion Skaldor was already stationed there, his imposing figure a commanding presence. Tall and muscular, with broad shoulders and long grey-streaked hair tied into a ponytail, he exuded an aura of unyielding authority. His ice-blue eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the room, and his simple monk's robes paired with a leather vest gave him an air of stoic resilience.

The chamber's ambiance was tense as Skaldor began recounting the details of Ulfric's capture. "Ulfric's situation is less urgent now," he stated, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "With the Legion's victory on the horizon, what concerns us more is the recent attack by the Dark Brotherhood on Jayson's party."

The list of targets was unfurled, each name inscribed with chilling clarity:

Belrand - Solitude 

Aldis - Solitude 

Titus - Solitude 

Jordis - Solitude 

Oscar - Solitude 

Francis - Solitude 

Nica - Solitude 

Pyeath Shadowthorn - Solitude 

Nikolai - Solitude 

Jayson - Solitude 

A heavy silence followed. Each name was familiar—except one: Pyeath Shadowthorn. The name lingered like a dark omen.

Jayson's expression hardened. "I'll find out who Pyeath Shadowthorn is and warn them about the danger. I will also find out who has initiated this black sacrament and—" I saw the fire in Jayson's eyes."Eliminate whoever initiated the black sacrament?" I asked, and Jayon gave a firm nod.

I refused to let him bear this alone. "I'm coming with you, Jayson. I won't stand by while you carry this weight."

Jayson hesitated but finally nodded. "Very well. You'll come, but you'll follow my command."

Skaldor interjected, his tone grave. "We must address the Dark Brotherhood's ongoing threat. With Ulfric's capture, the Legion is winning. We cannot afford another destabilization of Skyrim."

The gravity of the contract settled over us. Jayson's presence exuded an authority I had never seen before, and I can't believe he would suggest the same thing I am planning to do. Eliminated the one who initiated the black sacrament. Unable to resist, I teased, "Well, someone's been studying the Black Book, haven't they?"

Jayson's eyes widened briefly before masking concern with a strained laugh. "And here I thought I was just being more perceptive."

He straightened. "That is the only way to end this threat, to eliminate the one who initiated the Black Sacrament—and the Dark Brotherhood itself."

Skaldor's brow furrowed. "You suggest infiltration?"

Jayson nodded. "Yes. If I join them, I can uncover who commissioned the contract from within."

Malik, standing beside Skaldor, spoke. "It's a dangerous plan."

Jayson met his gaze with steely determination. "I will do it. But first, we need to locate Pyeath Shadowthorn."

The morning sun streamed through the narrow windows, casting long shadows. The silence that followed was thick with the burden of our choices. We had no illusions about the path ahead—but we would face it together.