Mortal (Book 3)

Chapter 3

"Just a bit farther, we're almost there now." Esbern whispers.
The old man owes me for the trouble I went through to find him and keep him alive. Etienne, the thief I freed from the Thalmor Embassy, directed us to him in the Ratway. Unfortunately, the Thalmor were already there looking for him too. Even when we thought we were safe above ground, the Thalmor had an assassin waiting for me there. As far as I know, the Khajit assassin didn't escape with her life but did manage to land a few blows on me. Thankfully, Esbern is an expert healer; so I suppose that makes us even.
Esbern has determined that our best course of action would be to find Alduin's Wall, a mural of some sort that the ancient blades created to depict how Alduin was defeated. I guess the logic is that if he was defeated once, we can do it again the same way. I'm not so sure.
Alduin's wall is inside Sky Haven Temple, home to the ancient blades in the first era, but now (hopefully) empty and abandoned. Upon our arrival we were met not only with an entire camp of Forsworn but a dragon as well. When we finally got inside, the entire place was loaded with traps, which Delphine gladly let me take care of myself.
Esbern has led us into a large room in the cave with a gaping hole in its ceiling; the view of the clouds makes me wonder if this hole is intentional or not. Ahead of us is a large seal on the floor, and a particularly chilling sculpture of a man's head. His angular face and deep set eyes make him certainly the most elvish looking human I'd ever seen.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" Esbern asks when he sees me staring at it.
"It's terrifying, like he's looking right through me." I tell him.
"Yes, it's to deter any unwanted visitors... A last line of defense, really. Reman Cyrodiil was always said to have been able to take down entire armies with a single glance."
"Reman Cyrodiil?"
"Founder of the second empire. One of the many founders of the Blades." Delphine mumbles.
"What was he?" I ask.
"What do you mean, Dragonborn?" Esbern asks.
"Was he an elf?"
"No, he was human. But many think he was a Breton, or possibly half-elf." Delphine says, a tinge of pride in her voice. I look back to his face, with its towering cheekbones and elongated eyes. If he really looked like that, I would be more willing to bet he was a halfling.
"Well..? Is that it? Are we here? I'll be honest, I thought from those traps there would be something here that was worth protecting." I scoff.
"No no, it's only locked. Has been since the end of the second era, I would guess." Esbern explains.
"Then how do we get in?" Delphine asks.
"See here, in the floor... A blood seal, very ancient magic. Unlocked with only the blood of the Dragonborn emperor himself... Or in this case, you." He says, looking up at me after admiring the seal.
"My blood..?" I ask.
"If you're truly dragonborn." Delphine grumbles. Esbern turns and glares at her, but she only glares straight back. Without a second thought, I pull off my gauntlet and toss it to the floor before pulling Esbern's dagger from his belt. I look Delphine in the eye, slice my palm with the dagger, and squeeze my fist. I don't take my eyes from Delphine's face, but after a moment or two of silence I hear a low rumble behind me. When I turn, Reman Cyrodiil's face has disappeared and an empty passageway replaced it. As Delphine leads the way with her torch into the passage, I realize that the massive sculpture has ascended up into the ceiling, staring eerily down at us as we pass through.
"I'm glad I never had to meet this Emperor Reman." I mumble to Esbern once I catch up to him.
"Well you never met him, but if theory stands true his blood might run in your veins." He says cheerfully. This thought makes me sick.
"Esbern, I must ask.. Is there any chance that I.. That my family isn't.."
"Royalty? Very little. St. Alessia wasn't the first Dragonborn, but the bloodline that followed her were the only Dragonborn to survive the ages. There were many Nord warrior dragonborn before her, of course, but they all died out ages ago. Everyone truly believed that Martin Septim was the last of the Dragonborn... Until now, anyway." He says with a kind smile. "Say, perhaps we should be calling you Empress instead of Dragonborn!" He laughs.
"Maybe one day, Esbern." I tell him, tracing my fingers along the carved stone walls.
"You're joking, Dragonborn? Even with Septim blood, you would need a massive force to do such a thing.." Esbern continues to ramble about all of the impossibilities, seemingly unaware of the war and my role in it entirely; not a surprise after how deeply hidden he was in the Ratway. Delphine, however, throws me a knowing glance.