A/N - This is, technically, a sequel to my other story 'Not In Tamriel Anymore'. If you haven't read it then I highly suggest you do, because the first few chapters heavily reference said story. That said, I hope you all have as much fun reading this story as I do writing it!
"So, what's the situation?" Karliah raised a curious eyebrow in the direction of Milah and Brynjolf, having not fully understood why the Khajiit had called for a meeting of the Nightingales.
"Trouble, what else?" Milah sighed, bringing up a clawed hand to rub her temples. "This one is my fault, and I'm really sorry to drag both of you into it. I killed a target for the Dark Brotherhood, and as it turns out the target had a very well-connected family. I was told they didn't care about the boy anymore, but apparently that information was wrong. They've had people sniffing about the past few months, and figured out that I am a Nightingale. Contacts in the Brotherhood say that they're planning to attack the Twilight Sepulcher, hoping that defacing the sanctuary of Nocturnal will draw me into the open." Her voice was stoic, lending credit to how much she had changed over the past few months.
"That is bad news indeed. So, what do you propose we do lass?" Brynjolf turned his head to look at Milah.
"I was hoping we could ambush them. Normally I would take care of this myself, but they're bringing too many men and I know that my first duty above all else is to protect the Twilight Sepulcher. Karliah and I are archers, so if we can hide in the rocks and take shots we should be able to take them by surprise. That is, if you wouldn't mind being the bait Bryn." Milah looked at the Nord, waiting silently for his answer.
"If it means protecting the Twilight Sepulcher I'll do anything, I made the oath to Nocturnal same as you did." He smiled a little, his hood down for the moment since he felt no need to hide his emotions around the two ladies. "And I trust that your skills are good enough to keep me safe. So then, you two get into those rocks and keep a sharp eye out. Give me the signal if you see them coming."
Karliah nodded and began to scramble up the cliff that ran adjacent to a small waterfall nearby, knowing she could hide behind the branches of a tall pine tree that was growing near the river. Milah was about to follow her, but she was stopped as Brynjolf grabbed her by the wrist. Turning, the Khajiit narrowed her eyes at him in a way that dared him to keep holding on but Brynjolf didn't loosen his grip at all. Instead he tightened it a little, pulling so hard that Milah had to take a step back and be almost face-to-face with slightly taller Nord.
"Milah, what's going on?" He asked in a low tone, earning him nothing more than Milah pulling her arm away from him and snarling.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." She moved quickly to get away from his grasp again and moved up the cliff face to find a place to hide for the coming ambush.
Brynjolf, however, knew better than to trust her words. She was not fine, in the months since she woke after defeating Alduin and being unconscious for a short time she had never been the same. Whatever dreams the Khajiit had while she slept she didn't want to talk to him about it. He'd tried to ask Amon, but Milah had only said to the vampire that she dreamed of being in some different world for several years and had only returned because she died in that world. It had to be affecting her somehow, because Milah had gone from being one of the best to almost on the verge of no better than some of their new recruits. She was getting sloppy with her work, leaving trails and killing people she didn't need to because they were witness to her thefts. Even on her Brotherhood missions she was killing excess people, and the rumors were flying of a Khajiit who was wiping out bandit and Forsworn camps and leaving such a trail of death, destruction and gore in her wake that the few who managed to flee and find themselves not worth the trouble of chasing down were claiming to have seen a creature straight from the depths of Oblivion itself. She was getting reckless and far more violent than she had been previously, and the worst part was that she didn't want to talk about it. Brynjolf had tried to ask her, but every time he did she would just say that she was fine and walk away, usually only returning to the guild days later and then refusing to speak to him for a while unless she had to.
With a heavy sigh Brynjolf sat down near the entrance and waited, weapon drawn. It would be nearly an hour before he could use it, but that didn't stop him from being on his feet seconds after the shrill whistle reached his ears. The sound was unmistakable and as soon as he stood Brynjolf could feel that the air had changed and become far more tense. Then he saw the first of the mercenaries marching up the path, fanning out slightly as they came to the front of the Twilight Sepulcher. A man that was clearly their leader strode forward, no weapon drawn but his hand on the hilt of his sword just in case anything happened. He seemed to have about a dozen other men with him, all well-armed and armored, and as Brynjolf eyed them he could see why Milah had asked for help defeating them.
"We seek the one of you who killed my boy." The leader spoke, his tone loud and firm as he stared at Brynjolf.
"Well good luck, because it was not one of ours who killed him. We are thieves, not killers, and I have no quarrel with you and no wish to fight." Brynjolf could kill if his life depended on it, and he knew that Milah and Karliah were watching from the cliff waiting to strike. Still, these men could be persuaded to leave and he hoped they would listen, not wanting to cause unnecessary bloodshed.
"Now look here you ignorant-" The man took a step forward as he spoke and that was the last move he made. An arrow flew from the cliff, piercing his neck through a chink in the armor. The man reached his hands up to clutch at the arrow before he fell over, dead before he could fully register what hit him.
"Milah, stop!" Brynjolf called to her, but it was too late. Arrows began to fly from the cover of the trees on the cliff, felling half the men before they stopped. Then came a roar so loud it shook the earth, and it was so inhumanly terrifying that the rest of the men scrambled to get away.
Before any of them could get very far or realize what had happened to them Milah came charging from her cover, leaping down the cliff and landing with a roll. She darted after them, right on their trail, until she caught up. In seconds there was nothing left but body parts and blood, the Khajiit panting as she sheathed her Nightingale sword and snarled loud enough that Brynjolf didn't dare taking a step towards her. Karliah was already by his side, having jumped from her cover as well in attempt to help Milah if she needed it but it was clear that the woman had not needed aid she just hung back and waited to see how bad the carnage would get. Despite the violence Karliah noticed that each arrow had been precise, it found hold in the few holes that were in the armor of their enemies. Even more impressive, the tips were wedged in small spaces and at points that were deadly, meaning Milah had to have calculated very quickly when to fire and in what directions. The men she had torn apart with her sword and bare hands, however, were far less precise. Arms, legs and heads were flung away from torsos in a bloodbath that had Milah soaked in dark red liquid. Even once they were dead she had continued to dismember them until they almost unrecognizable as even having been human in the first place.
"Milah…" Brynjolf kept his distance and tried to hide his disgust, but it was obvious in the way he stared both at the bodies and then at the Khajiit.
"Don't. I'm leaving." Milah began to walk and didn't once look back, not stopping until she was well out of sight of the temple and standing on the bank of a nearby pond. There was no one around since the temple was in the middle of nowhere on the skirts of Falkreath, so she felt comfortable finally stripping out of her armor and using the water to wash off.
As she did so, however, Milah found herself crying. She couldn't even stare at her own reflection without sobbing anymore, because she did not feel like herself. Ever since she woke up from that dream she hadn't been the same, but she didn't understand why. It was like any time she got into a fight there was this irrational need for violence, for her to just tear every single enemy to shreds and not stop until the grass ran red with their blood. Brynjolf wouldn't understand, or so Milah had convinced herself, and while Amon knew what she had dreamed of the vampire would also not understand the impact it had on Milah. No, no one would be able to help her, no one would think she was anything less than crazy. Once she was clean and her armor wasn't soaked in blood Milah put it back on and began to wander. She didn't know where she was going, she was just going to walk until her head cleared and she no longer felt like tearing apart the next person who tried to talk to her.
That's when something caught the Khajiit's eye. Or rather, caught her ears, for the sound that made her turn and look to find its source was unlike anything she'd ever heard. There was screaming in it, yes, but the rest sounded like some sort of large, metallic, screeching echo that was so high pitched it was almost hurting her ears. Judging from the position of the sun Milah guessed she'd walked maybe an hour or so, and she figured she was still in Falkreath. The noise was coming from beyond a group of nearby trees and as Milah approached she could see that it was a portal of sorts, at least twice as tall as she was and made completely out of rock. In between the outer structure was a glowing red light that appeared to be where the sound was coming from, and Milah held tight to the hilt of her sword as she swallowed hard at the sight of the thing. Amon had been alive for a long time, and Milah was recalling stories about the Oblivion Crisis so many years ago. This looked like what Amon had described as an Oblivion Portal, and if it was that meant there was no time to waste. No telling how many foul creatures had already escaped and how many more would slip through until it was closed. Deciding she would take this on for herself, Milah took a deep breath and made a go at the portal, hoping that she would come out the other side in Oblivion. After all, killing Dremora and other creatures of the type would not get her in any trouble and it would satisfy the bloodlust she felt boiling just under her skin once again.
What greeted her on the other side, however, caught the Khajiit off guard. She presumed she'd find herself facing what Amon had described to her time and time again; a red, burning sky and torched land littered with strange plants and little demonic creatures scampering about. Instead, as soon as she got her bearings Milah realized she was standing on the head of a large statue that depicted an emaciated man with his legs curled up and his hands covering his face as if he were weeping. She knew this because across from the one she stood atop was another one that was just the same. The statues overlooked a harbor that led into a town below, and Milah was confused as to why exactly she had wound up there. Turning around, she was also horrified to find that the portal she had stepped through didn't go back the other way, which meant she was trapped there for the moment. As she was assessing her options a gust of wind blew over the harbor, and Milah cursed loudly as she felt it push her. Her footing was completely lost and all Milah could do was pull her bag around to the front of her and grip it tightly, hoping that if hitting the water killed her at least something that would allow someone to identify her would survive. After all, she hadn't told Brynjolf or Karliah where she was going and Amon had no idea she was even out with the other two Nightingales. The last thought that went through her mind was wishing she could apologize to them for her behavior, and just as it finished she felt the impact rack her body. The water was cold, the force of her hitting it and breaking the surface had knocked the wind out of her, and as Milah realized she was sinking slowly in the murky depths the darkness of unconsciousness took her.
