written as Wade Asahbe
He did not know me.
He said I had appeared in his dreams, that he trusted me.
Yet, still, he did not recognize me, did not step forward to
embrace me, to fulfill my own childish dreams of finding my father, my
grandfather… any family other than my mad mother capering before the
altar of Sheogorath and my scheming Machiavellian half-sisters.
And now it’s too late. Just as it was too late when I finally abandoned
Indocar, after clinging to years to the forlorn hope my mother would
reclaim her sanity. I waited until my dear sister Delphine and her
ashborn paramour grew tired of my attempts at interference, and I was
forced to flee penniless from Highrock, bitter and with a trumped-up
bounty on my head.
This time, however, I am not the one whose life was shattered by my
waffling. Uriel Septim VII, the Emperor, died while I wavered,
torn between urgency and indecision.
When we first met, I hesitated to speak up, untrusting after my time in
prison and too in awe of the Emperor and his gods and visions for
revelations or confessions. But the ache to speak out, to reach
out, became unbearable after the old man twice defended my virtue in the
face of his guard’s skepticism. By then, however, we were in full
flight from the Mythic Dawn assassins. There was neither time nor
breath to declare the bleak nightmares that had impelled me to leave my
island sanctuary in the Sea of Ghosts, risking arrest with each step as
I began the long trek southward to the Imperial City.
In the end, caught by surprise when the emperor grasped my wrist, I lost
my focus when the old man spoke what turned out to be his final words
and pressed some bauble into my hand. Mephala help me! I
dropped my guard, and that brief opening was all the assassin attacking
the two of us needed. He mocked my ineptitude with my borrowed sword as
he struck the Emperor down, even as I cast the spell that ended his own
Baurus, the only other survivor of our mad tunnel crawl, seems as shaken
as I was and am. I try to listen as he hands me a key to unlock my
escape route through the sewers and tells me that the trinket looped
around my wrist is indeed the Amulet of Kings. He says that I must take
it to someone named Jauffre at Weynon Priory near the town of Chorrol.
I start down the tunnels toward the sewer, my thoughts aswirl. I took my
first human life today; there is blood on my hands, on my clothing. I
was freed from prison by the Emperor and watched him die before I could
ask the question that has driven me since Delphine and Moragar turned me
out and made a fugitive of me.
Yet the answer to my question was handed to me even as the Emperor
perished! As soon as I am out of sight of Baurus, I find a quiet alcove
and fasten the Amulet around my own neck. Woe! Dearest Azura, It will
not stay latched. As soon as my hand drops it uncatches itself and
slithers away from my shoulders as if it were alive!
So, I cannot wear the Dragon’s diamond. Does this mean that Ellenor of
Indocar lied about her affair with Uriel Septim, and my mother was not
the bastard child of the Dragon as she had always led me to believe?
But… perhaps the Amulet only recognizes the male Imperial line.
Uriel Septim spoke only of his sons’ assassinations, not his girl get.
Perhaps I did, however briefly, finally speak with my grandfather today.
Nonetheless, even if that is true, any female survivors of the massacre
will have gone into hiding. Where to turn? Wait! Uriel Septim had an
unknown son, who escaped the decimation of the royal family. Baurus says
the monk Jauffre knew of him. Perhaps Jauffre will also know of my
grandmother’s claims. Perhaps the truth, whatever it turns out to be,
will give me what I need to break the dark hold Delphine has over my
mother and younger sister, and finally end my exile.
Perhaps. But one thing is clear. I cannot expect that the Mythic Dawn is
done with me, even if I were to drop this Amulet of Kings down a fissure
and declare myself free of both it and them. When we meet again I must
be prepared. My spellbooks were taken from me when I was taken by the
guards. I must regain my greater magics and learn the ways of weaponry
and stealth as well.
By the Emperor's will, I am freed from prison. And Baurus spoke as if
the false charges of necromancy and vampirism which made a fugitive of
me have also been forgotten, in Cyrodiil at least.
If I have indeed been granted a second chance, then I must set a clear
course and cease to waver. Goodbye, grandfather. If you were my
grandfather. For your sake or mine, I go now in search of news of your
son, perhaps my uncle, and if so my last living male relative.
Thank you for trusting in me, for defending me, for trusting me to
I cannot decide if your trust is blessing or curse.
But I thank you anyway.