"Folgunthur," Urag says as soon as Ruby's done speaking. "Southeast of Solitude. I have a tome that talks a little bit more about this that I believe you would be interested in, but it is widely agreed that Mikrul is buried there."

"—if you just know of a place like that off the top of your head how come it hasn't been sacked yet, or something?"

"Well, most of Jyrik's seal was obscurity; I don't think anyone knew he was there. Mikrul's seal is more ordinarily powerful: no one's been able to break it.

"I'm sure if someone like Tolfdir or the Archmage tried they would find a way, but there are enough other legends that they haven't bothered. Most people who try to chase after these are nowhere near as powerful as them."

...this makes sense. When you're powerful enough that you can deal with the sort of seal that holds Mikrul Gauldurson you no longer really have much incentive to.

Unless you're a meddler and do-gooder like Ruby who thinks releasing draugar from their fleshy prisons is itself a worthy endeavour because being trapped in the mortal realm forever forced to guard a tomb, never allowed to rest, actually probably really sucks.

"So I'm unlikely to be able to do anything at all, in Folgunthur."

"Yes. But far be it from me to deny you the object of your curiosity. And you could surprise me." He goes to fetch the volume he was talking about, a thick book called Lost Legends. "Chapter seven is dedicated to the legend of Gauldur and his sons, but you might find other interesting legends to chase down in there, too."

Ruby really needs to learn the Deep Storage spell. Carrying stuff like a pleb is so last year. But he'll carry this book in his hands. Like a pleb.

When he's on his way downstairs he runs into Faralda, who stops him. "I've been looking for you," she says. "I should let you know that Ancano's been asking about you."

"...the Thalmor guy? Why?"

"I'm not sure. But he is not good news, and you would do well to mind what you tell him. The Thalmor do not want the good of the Empire, and Skyrim is still, for good or ill, part of the Empire."

Ruby isn't even from Skyrim.

...he thinks. He doesn't know. And the dude from the Psijic Order does know but didn't tell him.

...........if the Archmage knows he's gonna be very annoyed.

"Well, thank you for the warning, I'll keep it in mind."

"You're quite welcome."

His boyfriend is awake and waiting for him in his room, because he's ever met him.

"So, how'd it go?"

"The Archmage apparently already knew I was Dragonborn."

...oh right that had entirely escaped Onmund's working memory what with all of the everything else.

Aaaaand he still doesn't know how to deal with it.

"...so, uh, why is being the Dragonborn any different than being an amnesiac with a probably interesting past who keeps running into stuff?"

"...the Dragonborn is the stuff of legends. It's—this is the College of Winterhold, people being variously interesting is expected. Being the Dragonborn is—I'm not even sure. Am I meant to, to serve you? Are you the new rightful Emperor? It's, it's too much, it's just too surreal—"

Okay he looks like he needs a hug. Ruby will hug him.

"You can serve me if you want but I thought you preferred our roleplaying to stay limited to our private time together."

He starts spluttering and blushing terribly.

He's so cute.

"I don't think I'm any kind of Emperor, I have no idea what it means to be Dragonborn, I don't think anything should change, you can still rail me into tomorrow no matter how mysterious or powerful I am."

He's blushing even more but honestly after Ruby says this many Rubyisms in a row he's kind of finding it hard to hold onto the frame of mind where he's, you know, legendary in some way.

"Buuuut in more practical matters it does seem like there's something related to dragons I am meant to do, and it sure does seem—something—that the Psijic told me I prevented some evil I must now vanquish and then right after that I have a vision of dragons returning."

"...you think you're from the Merethic Era?"

"I have no idea! I thought I had just been relocated in space but if you tell me I'm actually Nedic* I have no way of contradicting you! I sure don't seem to be any local ethnicity." Shrug. "So, I dunno, maybe I was part of the original Dragon War and got sent into the future for some reason, but maybe it's something else entirely. ...I don't have anything concrete other than this hypothesis, though, so it's, like, either that or some other vague thing I don't know."

(* The Nedes were a race of humans which inhabited much of Tamriel during the Merethic and First Eras, and many modern ethnicities are descended from them.)

"This is too much. Again. Dragonborn from over four thousand years ago."

"I'm pretty well-preserved for my age, though, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm leaving for Helgen tomorrow. And I might run into a dragon." He takes a deep breath. "Do you want to come with me?"