The moment I touched the amulet the feeling that had been pulling me here reached a crescendo, the sheer certainty I felt within myself blinding all of my other senses only to disappear completely as I felt what I can only describe as a *Click* within my soul, signaling the end of a soulbinding ritual.
And I knew then and there that my fate was sealed, for good or ill.
The amulet disappeared for a split second before reappearing around my neck, hanging snugly just above the amulet of Mirkul Gaudursson, a sense of confidence and assurance flowing out of it and toward my heart.
The snapping of fingers brought me out of my thoughts as my eyes focused on a very confused Altmer, staring at me with an odd mix of exasperation and... awe. Unable to control his curiosity he points at the amulet and whispers "By all the gods, is that...?"
I nod "Yes." And that was all that needed to be said, for no one of worth would be unable to recognize the Amulet of Kings.
"It seems to be... missing a bit." Marco points out carefully.
"The Chim-El Adabal was shattered, yes." I nod again, and what an absolutely frightening realization it was that it was done by my own ancestor Martin Septim "But I feel that finding the frame was merely the first step to all this."
"So... ummm..." Marco scratches the back of his head "What do I call you now? Your Highness? Your Imperial Majesty?" He pretends to be nervous but I notice the glint of amusement in his eyes.
I huff "An Empress is nothing without an empire, and besides just having the bloodline does not mean I immediately get to sit on the throne."
"You don't merely have the bloodline" He points at me childishly "You are an actual Dragonborn, divine right to rule and all."
"And I am sure the masses will trample over each other to bow before me" I drawl, causing him to let out an amused snort at the image "And even if I wanted to rule we have more important things to worry about."
He fails to suppress a wince at that "Ah yes, can't have an empire if it gets eaten by an angry god."
"Something has been bothering me ever since we left Skyrim." I mutter after a brief silence "Just before we left Reyvin called me and I quote "Miss Early-beard""
Marco looks up and exclaims "Hjalti Early-beard as in Tiber Septim? Do you think he knew?"
"Obviously" I roll my eyes "Why else would he call me that?"
"To fuck with you?" He snips and we both let out a snort at that.
"That was no doubt one of the reasons." I agree with some amusement "But something tells me he knew all along, much like he knew about me being Dragonborn."
"But how?" Marco asks "How would he ever know that?"
"I would say it was the Elder Scroll but that can't be it since he found me before that..." I trail off "He did get very good at being a seer after that but do you think he was able to do it even before?"
"What, like some kind of spontaneous vision due to his heritage?" He asks, prompting a nod "I guess he could have seen something and wanted to make sure you had the best chance possible. Even if he can be a bit of an asshole he is a good person and probably wants to stop the end of the world just as much as you do."
"Probably more." I sigh, remembering his constant preparations "It still makes me uneasy that he knows so much and I don't."
"He said it himself." Marco points out "If he just dropped it all on your shoulders before you were ready you would have simply crumbled under the pressure."
"I would not!" I retort almost on instinct but immediately stop as I see Marco raising his hands placatingly.
"I don't mean you as you are now." He patiently explains "I mean the you he found in the sprawl. The hopeless thief who just found out the world was far bigger than she originally believed."
I slowly exhale and let my frustration deflate "Yeah... I guess you are right there." A moment later a grin spreads on my face "Now that he no longer has that excuse I am so going to interrogate him when we return."
"Good luck with that one, I will be safely a city away while the two of you talk." Marco chuckles "And speaking of our dreadful dark overlord, don't you think it is odd how he seems to behave both young and old at the same time?"
The question gives me pause and I mutter "He has been dealing with all of this for far longer than we were..."
Marco sucks in a bit of air "Damn, no wonder he can be so unhinged at times."
"Speaking about it won't give us any answers right now." I sigh and slowly get up "Let's search the place and get moving, Skyrim is over a month away on foot and we better start early."
-------------
In the end we did not get moving for an entire day. The temple held far too much history and artifacts for the Thalmor to have taken it all, so after searching through the entire thing and finding anything from old equipment to ancient texts to even a shrine to Talos we simply decided to camp out in the ruins, relying on the fact that it was well hidden to get a good night's rest.
Which did not say much as I was unable to get even a little sleep.
The earlier revelations left me with too many questions and my mind would not rest for even a moment as I pondered at my fate and the chain of events that brought me here.
The biggest question being: why me? What made me so different from others that made Akatosh choose me specifically. Was this some kind of divine test? Or was I simply destined to this fate from the moment of my birth?
Did I ever have a choice in anything to begin with?
New doubts kept popping up with each half-baked answer I came up, and I felt disgusted that I was wasting time feeling sorry for myself, so instead of moping like a child I decided to seek inspiration from the one who went through something similar and spent the rest of the night reading Ulrika's journal, which was somehow stored in the amulet itself.
I sought to find some hidden meaning, a magical spell that would make all the doubts go away, something to avoid the issue instead of facing it. All I found was trials, tribulations and suffering, and standing against it all were simple determination, spite and stubbornness.
And in the end that is all it boiled down to. I could mope, or I could get to work.
And I would never allow myself to be called lazy.
-----------------
It took us four days to descend the mountain, and another to leave the forest, the entire trip passing peacefully almost as if the world itself was offering respite for a passed trial, letting us gather our bearings and prepare ourselves for the path ahead.
That thought disappeared the moment we stepped onto the clearing around the Imperial road that led to Colovia.
A majestic crimson tent marked with the emblem of the Empire stood erect, surrounded by a small camp manned by dozens of cloaked figures, half of them immediately focusing on the two of us while the rest remained relaxed.
Something told me that simply walking away wouldn't work.
And so, with a heavy sigh, I started walking toward the encampment, the frustrated grumbling and cursing of Marco following me the entire way there.
As we approached I got a better look at the cloaked men and nearly came to a stop. Under their cloaks I could see masterfully crafted armor of reddish brown accented with gold.
'The Pennitus Occulatus' My lessons on politics supplied.
"Minthara Dragonbane And Marco of Solitude?" A tall Imperial firmly asks as I come near.
'There is no way my title has spread all the way here so they sought me specifically' "Yes." I nod tersely, attempting to lie here would probably be worse than simply stating our business.
The man nods, and then to my shock proceeds to offer a slight bow "Please enter the tent, you are expected. You may keep your weapons."
I stare at him in complete confusion for a moment and all he does is smile patiently.
Marco clears his throat "Maybe we should..." He points toward the tent.
Hiding a slight blush I offer a quick apology to the amused soldier and get moving.
As we pass many of the legionaries offer us respectful nods but none of them say a thing, an odd sense of anticipation filling the air.
The moment we step into the tent all outside noise disappears, replaced by a cozy atmosphere indicating some form of comfort enchantment.
A bald old man sitting at an elaborate table points to a pair of chairs "Sit, if you please."
His voice is polite but carries a lifetime of experience of someone used to holding supreme authority and both of us obey without even thinking.
The man finishes scribbling down a letter and folds it neatly, pressing a golden seal onto the warm wax and moving it to the side.
"You and I have much to discuss, Lady Septim." The eyes of Emperor Titus Mede II twinkle with amusement as he looks straight at me.
My eyes snap to one of the unfolded letters on the table, the emblem of the three-eyed beetle with a blade under it marked in a very familiar purple sitting proudly at its end 'Gods damn it Reyvin!' I curse mentally.
------------------------
(Reyvin's POV)
I narrow my eyes and look toward the southwest "Did someone proclaim their undying love for me again?" I mutter.
'Nah pops, that was just your ego' Scorch chirps.
'Ah, of course.' I nod imperiously and turn to Serana "Everything ready on your end?"
She pats herself down and mentally searches her oblivion storage before nodding "Checked three times over."
"Capital!" I clap my hands "Davos?"
"The Falmer and Moth Priest have already moved out." He informs me "I've had Karsus up the recruitment drive and we've raised security wherever we could. Unless we get a dragon on our asses we will be fine."
"Don't jinx it" I point at him and he pales slightly "What of the Dawnguard?"
"Isran has already started multiple raids on known Volkihar lairs." Davos shrugs "Won't do much but it will serve well enough as a distraction."
"Which is the entire point" I deadpan to which he simply shrugs once again.
"Shouldn't we get moving?" Serana interjects "I don't want my father catching wind of this."
"Very well then" I nod and clap my hands "Let us go get us a scroll!"
"And my mother." Serana deadpans.
"Yes, yes of course. The scroll and the scary vampire lady." I roll my eyes, grab her shoulder and magically yank us to Solitude.
------------------------------
The creature guards the passage forward
Its eyes filled with greed for stone
Pay the toll or face the troll.
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