A/N: I've sorta had this idea in my mind awhile because of Uriel Septim's comment to your character at the beginning of the game. I made the hero's description pretty vague so that it could apply to most characters, so I hope you all like it.
"Hello, old friend." An old man greeted as he knelt next to a gravestone. "I've been a bit busy lately, so I haven't visited you in a while... I'm sorry for that. If anyone shouldn't not be visiting you, it should be the person that demanded you be made a proper grave. I guess not visiting's just one of the many things I've done wrong in my life." He scanned the area around him and then took out a bottle of Cyrodilic Brandy from the dark cloak he wore.
"I know you wouldn't approve, you always where so concerned for my health, though really I should have been looking out for you, seeing as who's
visiting who's grave?" The grey-bearded man chuckled halfheartedly. "No one really remembers you now, not really. The high elves have been trying to take the credit for the closing of oblivion, but I've done my best to remind the people of your sacrifice."
"It helps that they see me as their hero, though. But you were the real hero. Hell, you were the one to die for them, for me! They follow me everywhere, I even had to secretly make this cloak just to sneak away for them! It should be you that's so admired it's a nuisance! After all you went through. I think Kvatch was the worst though. The first time you saw those creatures must have been so terrifying, but you were so brave! You saved so many people! And no one remembers. I just..."
The tired hero sighed. " I remember..." he struggled with the words, "I remember that day, that one happy day we had. It was a few days after we had arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple. After all the adventure you'd experienced that week, you got bored with trying to find more information about the Mythic Dawn. You practically dragged me outside and said you'd show me around Bruma if we found nothing else to do. I could only laugh at your sudden childishness. On the way to Weynon Priory you'd been so solemn, not that I was any better..."
The man's eyes gazed at the carefully carved etchings on the cold stone. "They're all gone you know. The Mythic Dawn. I made sure of it. I couldn't just let them get away with what they did. They nearly destroyed everything! They did destroy everything! You should be here now, Breathing!" The man attempted to regain his composure and glanced around to make sure he was still alone. "The elder council tried to lessen the impact your death
would have on the people by praising ME for OUR victory. I didn't even do much!"
"I was so scared when we entered the temple. I thought I was surely going to my death. But then you turned to me and you shouted over the
screaming city outside 'Give me the amulet!' I didn't really have a choice as you yanked it off my neck immediately. You yelled 'Your father said he saw
the light of Akatosh in my face, so I hope that means this works Martin!' And then... and then... well, you know the rest, dear friend, you changed fate.
YOU broke the Amulet, YOU became Akotosh's Avatar, YOU never came back. That should have been me." The man's words were starting to slow as he
finished the bottle of liquor. "That should have been me, That should've been me, should've... been...me..."
A Blade walked up to him, "Your highness, what are you doing he..." the loyal guard quickly noticed the name above the grave and became more
sympathetic, "Your highness, I'm sorry, but you're needed at the castle, please follow me." He backed away to a respectful distance, waiting for his
leader to finish visiting his friend.
Martin turned sadly to the grave, "I'm sorry my visit was so short, you deserve more. Goodbye, my friend" He stood and retreated from the grave
that read:
Hero of Kvatch
Adviser of Emperor Martin Septim
Champion of Cyrodiil
3E 408 - 3E 433