Skavild is still in Riverwood, pretending to be somebody else. This is because when he was abandoned by the Thalmor, he accidentally became friend with Delphine, their arch-nemesis. After discovering that she was the person who sent an assassin after him when he (inadvertently) failed to join her cause, revealing his real identity became even more inadvisable.
In order to maintain his cover persona, Skavild helped her by stealing the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller in an attempt to somehow attract a dragonborn hero to save Tamriel. This succeeded, and a devastatingly and confusingly handsome young man with a horned helmet and a loincloth arrived to take it away in Delphine's absence.
"I can't believe you let him run off." said Delphine.
Skavild said, "Well, he was in a hurry."
"There's no telling what those old men on the mountain will be filling his head with. What was he like?"
"Gorgeous." Said Orgnar.
"Orgnar, shut up." said Skavild. "Delphine, what Orgnar means is, strapping young Nord, tall, broad-chested, chiselled features, long fair hair."
"I'm comfortable with my manhood." said Orgnar.
"And so am I." said Skavild. "I mean mine, obviously. Not yours."
Delphine asked, "What did he do while he was here?"
"Drank some ale. Took some notes. Got the horn. Then walked out." said Skavild.
"Into the sunset." said Orgnar.
"Took notes?" said Delphine. "What kind of notes?"
Skavild said, "Don't know. He borrowed our ledger and tore out the top page he was writin' on."
"Well, that's something, at least." Delphine opened the ledger. Then she squinted at the remaining top page. Then she produced a piece of charcoal from under the counter.
She took a light impression of the indents, and was fortunate. Many of the locals used a quill with the same force as they used a hammer.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Skavild wailed. "Those are the private thoughts of a dragonborn hero."
"I thought you were sick of people gushing over your Nord legends and folk-tales." she said.
"I am, but there's such thing as privacy, you know."
"No there isn't." said Delphine. "Ysgald, this is a letter." She moved it around in the light and studied it.
"What's it say?" said Skavild, even though there was such thing as privacy.
"It's lucky he came to us when he did. This man Raskur might be a dragon slayer, but he needs our guidance, if he writes letters like this to people. And it looks like he hasn't gone straight to High Hrothgar. Which is lucky. We can catch up with him."
She put the letter on the counter and Skavild read it.
I want another four hundred or you can forget it. Now I know who I'm dealing with, I know what you can afford. I know where to write to if you don't come up with the money. I want my debt with Madame Lascivius' Parlour settled. I want a new horse. I want a new sword, Skyforge Steel. The one you got me from Warmaiden's is a joke. And I want you to rent a room at the Bannered Mare tomorrow night. Wear something nice for me if you know what I mean.
R.
"That's how we Nords write love letters." Skavild said, after clearing his throat.
"No it isn't, Ysgald, this is the worst kind of extortion. Hero or not, when we find him, you can bet I'm bringing this up."
"I can't believe we're doing this." said Skavild, going down the road. "You've waited two hundred years for one of your heroes and this is how you treat him. Prying into his private affairs and getting all moral."
"Ysgald, it's our duty to guide him and protect him. Not to stand by while he commits a crime. And I haven't waited two hundred years. There was a time when I didn't believe there would ever be another mortal soul blessed by Akatosh."
She was quiet until they reached the waterfall. Then she said. "I wish they were all here to witness it. I wish Henrik was here. And Acilius. And Esbern most of all. He never lost hope."
"Sorry you lost all your friends, Delphine." said Skavild.
"Did you ever meet Esbern?"
"Don't think so." Said Skavild, who had forgotten that he was currently a Blades agent called Ysgald, and definitely not the former library assistant to the Second Archivist of the Thalmor. "Who was he again?"
"Our Master of Lore and History. With the beard. Always had his nose in a book. Are you sure you never met him? Now that I think of it, he would have been present for every initiation oath in Skyrim until we were outlawed."
"Oh, THAT Esbern. Yep. I remember him. That beard!"
"Ysgald, how old are you? You must have been pretty young to have been initiated before the dissolution."
"Yep," said Skavild. "I'm older than I look, like you. I mean, you look great. Got any good stories about Esbern and his books?"
Delphine sat down by the side of the road.
"You won't possibly remember when he started to talk about Elder Scrolls and prophecies. But that was my first mission for him. I didn't believe it at the time. But he was right. Esbern was always right about everything."
"Elder Scrolls? said Skavild, who had once broken into an underground city with his friend Eldaline to steal one. "Did he read those things? They're bad for you, I hear, you can see things that don't concern you and my Ma says they make you go blind."
"He never read one. We never even found one. But he was always so close. It was his dream and I failed him. Everybody failed him. Now, he's gone, probably hunted down with the rest of them."
"Failed?" said Skavild. "Never!"
"I was training young hopefuls at the Royal Windkeep College of Duellists when one day he turned up. He said he knew where to find an ancient text.
I said, "What kind of ancient text is it?"
He said, "Do you want to know, or are you just trying to look clever?" Very direct. I liked that about him.
But eventually, I got it out of him. It was a big green book. The text would show him how to track down Elder Scrolls, wherever they were.
I said, "Even outside Nirn?"
"I did just say, Wherever. Please pay attention if you're going to feign interest."
The closer we got to the ruin he wanted me to search, the more anxious he got. At the time I was annoyed. I was young and liked talking.
"If it's all the same, I'd rather not find out too much about you. If I get too close to you, it'll play havoc with my nerves if you die, my dear."
I asked him if that was likely. He just sighed, so I stopped talking.
Whenever we stopped along the road, he read his books. He hated being interrupted while he was reading.
But sometimes, when he found something too interesting to keep to himself, he couldn't help himself and had to tell me. It was upsetting for him to have to explain the more basic points.
But I was headstrong and wanted to understand. So he gave me a reading list.
After two days slow march through the shrubberies at the edge of the Western Reach, he pushed a floor plan into my bag, pointed at a ruined well, and said "I'll wait here. Be quick, my dear."
I said, "Is somebody else looking for this book?"
Esbern said, "No. It'll be dark soon and I can't read in the dark."
As I was going down into the well with a rope, even in the dark I could see that it was a giant cavern.
Then suddenly, there was a flash of light near my head and I was climbing nothing.
As the rope gave way I heard Esbern give a terrible howl. He said, "No, no! Everything's ruined! Why does this keep happening? Are the Divines testing me?"
I don't know how far I fell, but the distance seemed immense. Only, I wasn't dead. I think I was being carried by a glowing light shooting up from the bottom of the well.
But why, I don't know."
"Sounds like a friendly glowing light to me." said Skavild, in our present age. "Don't look a gift lamp in the mouth."
"The place really was huge. I'd arrived on a long bridge, and I couldn't see any doors on Esbern's map beside one by a strange harbour in a deep, black tarn. The directions read 'jump in here'."
"Was it cold?" said Skavild.
"Yes. And do you want to know what was through the door?"
"Yes, I do want to know, go on."
"At first it just looked like a hall with ghostly figures floating about, but when I stepped through the gate, like Esbern's arrow told me, everything changed.
I was in a city made of books."
"Ah, you must've ended up in Apocrypha, a Plane of Oblivion. That happens to people more than you think."
"Then a disgusting floppy monster made of string attacked me."
"A Seeker." Skavild corrected.
"How come you know so much about Planes of Oblivion?" said Delphine.
Skavild quietly cursed himself again. "Just a hobby. So, did you kill the Disgusting Floppy Monster Made of String?"
"I think so," said Delphine. "It fell over, anyway. But that thing could take a beating. Had to use sword and spells at once.
Esbern's map didn't tell me anything about this area. But I arrived at the edge of a giant citadel.
I thought there'd be no way across the moat, and the moat was full of tentacles, but a drawbridge came down, like it was inviting me in."
"You went in, then?"
"Of course I went in, I'm a Blade. What do you think the walls were made of, Ysgald?"
"Books." said Skavild.
"Right. And what do you think was flying around my head?"
"Books?"
"Right. It took me hours to find anything that looked like a big green book.
And when I did, it wasn't just big, it was twice the size of me. Esbern was always so wrapped up in his research. He forgot to tell me about that.
When I touched it, it opened itself. It was a picture book, showing me a picture of three Elder Scrolls, and the libraries where they were on holiday that summer."
"It was a daedric library catalogue." said Skavild. "I mean, I think."
"It wasn't hard to pull out the pages I needed. The moment I did, there I was, right outside the ruin again. I couldn't find Esbern anywhere, so I asked in the nearest village.
A local guard had seen Esbern all right, and said he'd gone to the city of Evermore, to hire a sellsword.
So I ran most of the way to the city, as fast as I could, to tell him I was fine, so he didn't waste any Septims trying to rescue me from the cave."
"Well, that was very considerate of you, Delphine."
"I found him in a local inn, and interrupted his conversation with a grizzled looking patron.
"Look Esbern," I said, "I'm back."
The grizzled-looking patron turned around in his chair, angry-like. "Get lost, you stupid harlot," he said, "Can't you see I'm arranging a job for your Esbern?"
Esbern himself looked a little irritated. He said, "Yes, my dear, give us a moment. And we'd like some ales too, if you please."
That made me angry, and being younger I was a little proud, too. I dumped the scroll I took from the Place right next to Esbern, and he really brightened up. "You got it, you clever girl." He said.
And I said, "Well, of course I got it, I said I would, didn't I."
He took a little look at the scroll and said, "So, the Elder Scroll I need is hiding somewhere in the Imperial City Library. Oh, and you can go now." He said to the grizzled-looking patron."
continues