"Hush now, Adelie."
A sweet voice. Calm and reassuring, but not without an edge. I looked up into storm-grey eyes. They softened as something wet touched my forehead. I smiled sleepily, turning away to play in the dirt as the voice drifted away, set to some task that required quiet. The soft squeal of a small animal dying. I turned around and saw the ram skull, covered in blood. Some streaks red, others were brown and faded, bleached in the sun like the bone beneath. The skull shattered, falling to the ground beneath a massive boot. From the pieces sprouted a single black bird.
"Don't trust her, Adelie." The voice said again urgently. "Live only for yourself, Adelie."
"Silly mama." I muttered, looking up at the voice. The storm-grey eyes widened, opened up. It wasn't my mother I was looking at. It was me.
I woke with a start, struggling against the arms that held me down, flailing with my legs. My knee made contact with something, I heard a grunt, the pressure fell away. I opened my eyes, looking around, my breathing ragged. Breathing. I can breath, I realized, gasping the air in. I wasn't sitting in the bottom of a pool underneath a waterfall. I was… where was I?
I looked into the face of an old man, Breton by the looks. Balding with a beard and a prominent nose, dressed in fine robes. I looked past him, to the room. Stone work, no windows. So, I was still in Markarth. There were two more men and a young woman, all Breton.
"Don't get up too quickly," the old man said, pulling a wet cloth from my head before it fell into my lap.
I looked down at myself. I was dressed in miner's clothes, not my armor. I looked around frantically, thinking of the translation. You really should stop passing out, Adelie, I thought bitterly, still not able to find my words. It wasn't my fault this time, I was drowning! I was drowning. "How-?"
"There are eyes in the Reach, young Adelie." The old man said.
"She really does look like-" The young woman moved towards me, but her sentence was cut short by a strict glare from the older man.
"Ualie, best he tells her himself." He said.
The girl rolled her eyes as I pulled myself into a sitting position. "Ualie?" I muttered. I was sure I heard the name before, somewhere in passing. These people seemed familiar, but I was certain that I had never met any of them before.
"You helped my father escape from Cidhna Mine," she said, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Uraccen?" I guessed, more like he helped me, but I wasn't about to say anything that would make these people revoke their hospitality. "Who found me?"
"Weylin, he works in the smelter. Lucky for you he knew to come to us rather than going straight to the overseer." The old man chuckled.
I felt my face flush as I swung my legs out of bed. "My stuff?"
"Don't worry, we haven't touched it." The old man said, blinking slowly in a way that made me think they did indeed touch it.
"Why didn't you leave the city with the rest of the Forsworn?" I asked, standing slowly to test my balance.
The old man's eyes flashed, but he kept the same deliberate smile plastered on his face. "The eyes must be everywhere, Adelie."
I nodded at his cryptic words as Ualie brought my armor to me. I quickly checked the pockets to make sure their contents were still intact, before hurriedly pulling it on over the clothes. I stood for a moment in the corner of the room, not quite sure how to make a graceful exit. I looked at each of the faces mutely, before the old man finally stood.
"If you ever find yourself here again, ask for Nepos before you jump off any more cliffs."
I nodded, thanking him hurriedly before leaving the house. Thankfully, it was dark outside, and not too hard to avoid the guards.
Back in Winterhold, I sat on the usual barrel in the corner as Karliah and Enthir flipper hurriedly through Gallus's journal, comparing it to the translation guide I had brought. It was clear that they were looking for something specific, but translating took time. I picked up snippets of their conversation, but I couldn't keep my mind off of what Aicantar had told me.
The idea that an artifact from Akatosh himself had found itself on this plane did seem a bit ludicrous. I had even thought so when Mercer said it, we're going to steal from the gods, Adelie. My thoughts were clouded by giddiness at the fact that Mercer had come to rescue me, like a damsel in a children's book. And then he was including me in his future? I was far too wrapped up in the idea of a life full of grand larceny and precious gems to doubt my lover's grand plans.
If a scholar had found it though, had located it and already attempted to recover it, it could almost be realistic. I resisted the urge to pull out my map and double check that the mark I had made was in the correct place. It seemed too good to be true. Only, Mercer wasn't here. I didn't know if I could, or if I should relay the information to him, or if I should try and recover it myself. He was out there somewhere, perhaps not in skyrim, but there were only so many places he could go, and Karliah had no doubt built herself quite the network outside of Skyrim's borders.
"By Akatosh…" Enthir muttered, picking the journal up, eyes flicking between it and the translation guide.
"Does it say something about his vapid sex life?" I drawled sarcastically, suppressing a smirk at Karliah's glare.
The comment didn't seem to effect Enthir as he checked the translation for the third time.
"What does it say?" Karliah asked eagerly, looking over his shoulder.
"This says… it says that Mercer had been stealing from the guild for years. Gallus was close to discovering him before he died."
"Before he was murdered," Karliah corrected him, turning her attention back to me. "We need to bring this back to the guild."
"'We?'" I asked skeptically.
"If I walk into the Flagon and someone recognizes me, I'm dead. Mercer has told everyone you're dead, surely there's someone who wants you to prove him wrong."
I chewed my lip, thinking about Sapphire. I did want to see her again. At least that way someone would know my side, and Karliah wouldn't have the final word. "Fine." I spat, sliding off the barrel. I wondered how many times she would suck me into her plans.