This was originally going to be separated into two different chapters, but for some reason when I tried writing them, they just wouldn't come out, so I made them into one longer chapter. Apologies for the sudden turn of events. If anyone thinks it's a little too abrupt, I might come back later and have another go and making this into two chapters. Anyway, thanks to everyone who's read this far, and here's chapter twenty. I'm not going to put an author's note at the end of this one, because I don't want to spoil the mood at the end, so I'm going to explain the loose ends (because there are a few) at the start of the next one. If you think you can't wait until then, PM me, and I'll see what I can do to explain everything.

So, here we go...

CHAPTER TWENTY

I wish with all my heart and mind and soul that this could be avoided.

I wish it had never happened. Oh, by each and every one of the Divines, however many of them there may be, how many times I have wished it had never happened. That it was all some terrible nightmare, some cruel and evil dark dream.

I wish that I did not have to write it. To put it down in words will be to set it down on this page forever. The ink will soak into the paper forever and it will be irreversible. Irreversible and official. There will be no taking those words back.

But it did happen. And there is no going back in time to try and rectify it. To try and put it right. To stop it from having happened.

To try and save him.

No matter how hard I wish, it cannot be changed or altered now. Whether we were always heading for the darkness of that ancient ruin, or whether our own decisions led us there, the paths of my lover and I led into that sanctum. And only one path led out again. Surely I should have known? In tales, as an evil time approaches, there is always some warning. A premonition dream. A feeling of danger. Some knowledge, deep within, that dark times are on the way.

Yet I had no warning. None at all.

No. That is a lie. There was warning. And yet I was too blind to see it! Too deaf to listen! Too foolish to realise! Too sure of my place in the paradise he had created for me to ever believe that it could be destroyed! How could I have not realised, not seen…?

Ah, I forget myself. So many times I have told myself there was nothing I could have done. And my friends have told me the same. And if what Nocturnal hinted at the day it all ended was true… then there was truly no way it could have been avoided.

And yet… all my life, I had been told the same thing by the two people I cared about most.

Our destinies are what we make them. Nobody and nothing but us decides our fate.

We shape our own futures. It is our dreams that make us who we are.

I do not know the truth. Maybe one day, after my death, I will know if I could, somehow, have prevented it.

All that matters is that I did not prevent it. And it happened. Whether through our following the paths that destiny had laid out for us, through my own fault, through Gallus's unwillingness to accept the truth, through the greed of that murderer- it happened.

It happened and… and I couldn't stop it.

I have hated myself over the years. Why am I alive? That is the question I have asked so, so many times. Of my friends, of the Gods, of myself. Why should I have survived when he is dead?

And for twenty five years, upon the asking of that question, I laughed mirthlessly to myself and said, no. I am not alive. I died when he did. What life is this, a life without him? It is not a life; it is merely an existence. Something to be endured, and not enjoyed.

And then, as the twenty-fifth year came to a close, she came. She came, and hope returned, on the wings of a Nightingale…

But I stray from my point. The truth is simple- I do not want to write about that day. I have sat here for some time, staring at this empty page, knowing that the time has come to place words upon it that I would far rather leave unwritten for all eternity.

But even if the evil of what happened that day is unremembered after my death, it cannot be made untrue.

And that day cannot be forgotten. To forget what he sacrificed for me would be a dishonour and an insult to his memory.

I have no choice. So far, the words that I have spilled out of my soul and into this book have been painful. Yet the pain that they contained is now stored within these pages, and no longer within my heart. My fellow Nightingale was right. Thus far, at least, telling my story has helped me, has eased some of the burden I have carried for so, so many agonised years.

But can I truly live through that night again? The night when my life ended? The night I lost everything I loved?

I have spent a quarter of a century trying to keep it from my mind. I am not certain I can bear the agony of remembering it all again.

But I have got this far. I must continue. For this is the story of my life, and that was the night that changed everything in it.

So I shall tell you the tale I do not want to tell. The tale of the night that stole everything from me.

This is the story of how my world ended.

This is the story of how I lost all my hope.

This is the story of how I died.

I knew something was wrong from the moment I set eyes on him.

It was just another day, just another afternoon, just another mission. Just one more routine break-in. The air was full of birdsong, the snows had melted, and the whole country was flushed with green. Springtime was upon us. A time of life and rebirth. A few days later, had my heart not been broken beyond repair, I might have laughed at the bitter irony. But as it was, I was clueless, utterly ignorant of what a betrayal beyond all betrayals was about to bring my way. The only thoughts in my head as I entered the Flagon then were ones of happiness. Happiness that I had succeeded in my mission, happiness that spring had come at last, and, above all, the happiness that had been burning in me since the night by the lake. The happiness that whispered within me, every second of every minute of every hour of every day, you have found the man you love!

Gods above. So much happiness. How could a single second turn it into grief beyond anything I had ever felt before?

I dropped down from the ladder, and I saw him straight away. He was sitting at his desk at the side of the Cistern. It was deserted, apart from him- everyone was either out on missions, treating themselves to a drink in the Flagon, or out enjoying the sunlight. The silence was almost painful.

And something was wrong.

Not drastically wrong. Not the sort of wrong it had been when I'd walked into the Flagon a year ago, to find him missing. But still wrong. It was written all over him- the furrowed brow, the anxious expression in his eyes, the way he was holding his head in his hands, and most disturbingly of all, the fact that he wasn't smiling.

'Gallus?' I asked. 'What's up?'

He started, like a deer grazing in a forest that has just heard the snap of a twig under a predator's foot. 'What's up? No, nothing. Just a headache.'

I stared at him. If I hadn't been certain before, I was sure now. He was lying. I could see it in his eyes. Something was definitely wrong.

I sat down beside him. 'Something's up, isn't it? I can tell. I know you too well.'

He shook his head. 'It's nothing.'

I blinked in confusion. What… what was going on? Why was he lying to me? Gallus hardly ever lied to anyone, and to me least of all. What reason could he possibly have to keep the truth from me? Didn't he know that if there was something troubling him, I would be the first person to try and help? Hadn't he realised by now that if he needed advice, I would give any I could without a second's thought? Surely he knew that I hated to see him in distress, that I would do anything that lay within my power to do what I could for him?

'It's not nothing,' I said quietly. 'Or you wouldn't be like this. What is it?'

He refused to meet my eyes. 'I'm sorry, Karliah. I can't tell you.'

His words chilled me, right down to the bone, as if my blood had been turned to ice. He could tell me anything. He could trust me with any secret. Why would he…

'Have I done something wrong?' The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop and think about them. They sounded small and weak, and I bit my lip.

His eyes widened in instant horror, as if the words had stabbed him in the heart. 'No!' he shouted forcefully, and the word shattered the quietness like a blow from a sword shatters a sheet of ice. I could not help but flinch, taken aback by his vehemence.

'No,' he repeated more softly, and there was fear in his eyes. 'No, my little Nightingale. You have done nothing wrong. You can do nothing wrong.' He shook his head, and somehow the distress in his expression calmed the conflicting emotions- mingled concern, anger, hurt and anxiety- that had been stirring within me. 'I'm sorry. Please, you mustn't think…' His voice trailed off, as if he were searching for words, and suddenly I felt a twinge of guilt. Whatever was troubling him, he had every right to keep it to himself, if he chose to. It was selfish of me to expect him to share every secret he had with me.

'Gallus,' I said quietly, putting my arm around his shoulders. I felt a little of the tension drain from his body. 'Gallus, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to.'

'That's just it,' he said, and I was shocked to hear a hint of tears in his voice. 'I do want to tell you. I just can't.'

'That's fine,' I told him gently. 'When you're ready to tell, I'm ready to listen.'

He swallowed. 'It's nothing to do with you, I promise. And I will tell you. It's just… I'm not sure about it. Not yet. And I can't tell you until I'm sure.'

I nodded. 'Then don't tell me. But Gallus- you know you can trust me with anything, don't you?'

To my intense relief, he broke into a smile. 'I know.' He drew in a long, deep breath. 'I hope I'm wrong. I don't think I am, but I hope I am. If the Lady's kind, in a few days, all will be put to rights, and all this will have been unnecessary.' He shuddered. 'If not… I don't want to think that…'

'That what?' I frowned.

'That such a thing could be possible,' he said, and I had to strain my ears to make out the words.

There was a world of fear and anguish and sorrow in those words, and I shivered, despite myself.

He shook his head. 'Ignore me,' he shrugged. 'It's nothing, I hope… you couldn't go and see Elandine, could you? She was looking for you earlier. I think she wants you for some job on Goldenglow Estate.'

I could tell that the change of subject was an unspoken plea for me to leave him in peace. Any other day, perhaps, I would have been offended, but I could tell that something had him deeply distraught, and I quickly decided that the least I could do for him was to get out of his way for a while.

'Sure,' I told him, getting up. 'Call me if you need me.'

My words, too, carried an unsaid meaning. If you need me, I'm here.

He nodded. 'I will.' He gave me a final smile and turned back to his desk, picking up his journal and flicking through the pages of neat, careful writing. I turned and started towards the Flagon, but not before I caught his final, whispered words- words I doubt he knew that I heard.

'Lady, protect her. If I'm right, if it's true… please, I beg you, keep her safe.'

The moment I closed the door of the Cistern, I leaned against it, letting out a long breath I never knew I'd been holding in.

Protect her, he'd said. Keep her safe. What reason could there be for him to say such a thing? Were we in danger? Was something threatening us, something to terrible for him to speak of? And if so- why in Nocturnal's name couldn't he tell me? He'd said it was because he was scared that he was wrong… but Gallus was seldom wrong about anything.

One thing was for sure. If something had Gallus so worried, there was almost certainly some danger brewing on the horizon. And he needed help. Gods, I needed help. I needed help to help him.

I made my way down the corridor and into the Flagon. Elandine wasn't there, and I made the decision not to try and find her. The matter of Gallus was the most pressing right now- far more important than some Goldenglow Estate job. I looked around at the others- drinking, reading, counting their takings. Could I confide in one of them? Maybe- after all, Gallus hadn't actually asked me not to tell anyone- but whom? Was there anyone who knew Gallus well enough to perhaps know what had him so distressed? My initial thought was Ahsla, since she'd been with the Guild for so many years, but then I remembered she was still in Markath, on some business concerning the Silver-Bloods. And Delvin was with her. The twins were here, but somehow I didn't think they'd be much help. Brynjolf was chatting to Thjon over by the bar, but I'd been in the Guild for longer than Bryn, and I knew that Thjon didn't know Gallus as well as I did. I let out a groan, trying to resist the temptation to bash my head against the wall.

'You all right there?'

I turned, and found myself meeting Mercer's curious grey gaze. It was as if a lantern had been lit inside my head. Mercer! Why in the name of all the Divines hadn't I thought of sharing my troubles with Mercer? He'd been Gallus's best friend for as long as anyone could remember, and what was more, he was a Nightingale. If anyone knew what was behind Gallus's worries, it would be him.

'I'm fine,' I told him. 'But I don't think Gallus is.'

He frowned. 'What's up with him?'

I shrugged. 'I don't know. That's the problem.'

'You think something's wrong?'

'I know something is.'

'You spoken to him?'

'Yes. He said he wanted to tell me about it but he couldn't.'

Mercer frowned, and his gaze travelled to the nearest empty table. I took the hint and went and sat down. He slumped into the chair opposite me, eyebrows raised a fraction, as if waiting for me to explain.

I took a deep breath and plunged into my story, the way that an Argonian plunges into a pool of water- though in my case, I took the plunge a great deal more reluctantly. 'I found him in the Cistern, and I could tell just by looking at him something was wrong. I asked him, and first he said nothing was wrong. Then he said something was wrong but he couldn't tell me what. Then he said he wanted to tell me but he was scared that he was wrong.'

Mercer was looking worried. 'Wrong about what?'

I shrugged. 'Search me. He just said that he didn't want to think that such a thing could be possible.' I looked at him pleadingly. 'Do you know what he's talking about?'

To my disappointment and frustration, the Breton shook his head. 'Sounds like we're in some sort of danger.'

'That's what I thought. But I don't see why he'd want to keep it to himself if we were.'

My fellow Nightingale shook his head. 'No. Neither can I. Perhaps he doesn't want to make a fuss about nothing if he's wrong.'

'But what if he's not wrong? What if we really are in trouble?'

Mercer nodded slowly. 'I think the only thing we can do is to wait and see what happens. But we'll have to keep an eye on him, just in case anything really is wrong.' He got to his feet. 'Don't you worry. This'll get sorted out.'

I smiled gratefully at him as he walked away. But I couldn't help but feel that I'd overlooked something. Something important. Something dangerous.

I had overlooked something. And in a few days' time, I would be wishing with all my heart that I hadn't. Because I would pay the highest possible price for my negligence.

I found him at the stables.

The sun had set twice since that encounter in the Cistern and the talk with Mercer, yet neither of us had been able to work out what might be troubling our Guildmaster. Mercer was getting increasingly edgy, and I felt more nervous with every minute that passed. Gallus was smiling less and less. Sometimes I would have to say his name several times before he looked at me. It was as if something evil was eating away at him from the inside. It seemed to me that I was losing him with every second that went by. I was watching the man I loved more than anything else in the entire world fade away before me and there was nothing I could do. I had tried to talk to him about it, but he had always changed the subject before he ever gave me an answer.

As I watched him sneak out of the Flagon, casting a quick glance over his shoulder as if to make sure nobody was looking, I averted my eyes, hoping that he hadn't realised I had seen him. I waited for a few minutes- or perhaps it was only a few seconds. I couldn't have discerned any difference, in my anxiety. Then I got to my feet and followed him.

I didn't look back as I left the Cistern. If I had known that I would set foot there again for a quarter of a century, I would have stopped. I would have taken a moment to say farewell, to remember all that had happened there, to honour my home.

But I did not know.

And so I left. And I didn't look back.

He was at the stables. Something within me told me that he would be there, and he was, adjusting the straps of Ebony's saddle, his body rigid with tension. Anxiety flooded from him in thick, hot waves, and I knew instantly that whatever was troubling him had just come to a head.

'And where do you think you're going?' I asked accusingly, leaning against the stable wall.

He jumped so hard that Ebony skittered away from him with a slight whinny of annoyance. He grabbed hold of her reins and span around, guilt written all over his face.

'Karliah-' he began, but I didn't give him a chance to finish.

'Is it just me, or does everybody I know seem intent on sneaking off without telling me? First my mother, now you too.' I suddenly found myself unable to contain my anger. 'Come on. Where were you going this time? You can hardly use Nightingale Hall as an excuse.'

His eyes burned with anguish. 'I-'

'You what? I thought I said that you could talk to me about this. And even if you don't want to talk about it, whatever it is, you might at least say something before you go dashing off into the wilderness on some secret mission without so much as a single word again?'

'Please!' He took a step forward, his voice cracking with fear. 'I'm sorry- truly, I am! I was going to leave without telling you- but only because I was worried that you would follow me if you knew that I'd gone and- and I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you!'

The words were blurted out with such uncharacteristic desperation that my anger faded instantly, to be replaced by concern. 'Losing me?' I asked, frowning. 'What… what are you talking about?'

'I can't lose you,' he whispered, and there were tears threatening his eyes. 'I can't. I love you more than anything. I just can't lose you.'

I had seen him upset before, yet never had I witnessed him so terrified, so frantic, so close to despair. Any anger left in me was no longer directed at him, but at myself. How could I have been so pitiless, so heartless and unforgiving? Without hesitation, I pulled him into my arms and held him close, and he relaxed into my embrace, his whole body trembling.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, again and again. 'I'm sorry.'

'So am I,' I told him gently.

He pulled away from me, shaking his head. 'No, you've nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one to blame. I should have told you- but I knew that you'd try to follow, and I can't take you with me into danger.'

'What danger, Gallus?' I could feel a little voice inside me shouting at me to stop, to leave it there, to take his word for it and walk away. But I stayed.

'I don't know.' He swallowed. 'Or rather, I do know, but I hope I'm wrong.'

My confusion must have shown on my face because he shook his head. 'You've got a right to know,' he sighed. 'But please, Karliah, if I tell you where I'm going- you have to promise me that you won't follow.'

'I'm not promising any such thing,' I told him firmly. 'If you're in danger-'

'Snow Veil Sanctum,' he said suddenly.

I blinked, staring at him in confusion. 'What?'

'Snow Veil Sanctum,' he repeated, his gaze fixed on the ground. I could see him trying to compose himself, to rein in his emotions. 'I'm going to Snow Veil Sanctum.'

'I've heard of it,' I said. 'You mean the ancient Nordic burial site?'

He nodded. 'Mercer's waiting for me there. He says he's found something- something that might mean that the very survival of the Guild is in jeopardy. He sent me a message, saying he needs my help.'

I should have listened to that little voice. The one that was now whispering, why should that mean he's this worried? Of course that's bad. But not so bad that he'd run off without telling you.

But I ignored it.

'Then I'm coming,' I told him. 'We're all Nightingales. In case you and Mercer have forgotten, I made an Oath to protect you. With my life. And Gods above, Gallus, I swear to Oblivion I will.'

'No.' I could see the Guildmaster part of him taking control. His voice was firm now, allowing no refusal, hiding his emotions behind a stern mask. 'Karliah, you cannot come with me. And you must not follow me. I don't know for sure what I'm going to be facing at Snow Veil. But you mean more to me than anything in the world- and I would rather die than see you come to harm.'

Oh, Divines, Gallus. Why did you say that? Why did you have to say that? Didn't you know what was coming?

'But surely if there's danger, three people is better than two-'

'Usually, yes. But not this time. Please, Karliah. You have to stay. For my sake, if not for your own. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you. Surely you understand that?'

I stared at him for a moment longer. A plan formed in my mind. And I made my decision.

Had I known that my decision would destroy my world, I would have made it differently.

But I did not know.

'Of course I understand that,' I told him gently. 'Go on, Gallus. Do what you have to do.'

His whole body sagged with relief. 'I'm sorry,' he said quietly. 'But I have to do my duty.'

'You've always done your duty,' I replied. 'And you've always done it brilliantly.'

He kissed me then, long and hard, as they say. And I kissed him back with as much tenderness and loyalty and devotion and love as I could possibly hold within me.

Had I known that would be the last time, I would have held it for longer, rejoiced in it more.

But I did not know.

His eyes met mine as we broke apart, and I stared deep into them, as if I were trying to look right into his soul and see the answers to all of our troubles within it. For a moment we simply stared into each other's eyes, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Had I known that we would not share such a moment again for a quarter century, I would have treasured it far more.

But I did not know.

'I have to go,' he whispered finally, raw grief in his voice.

'It's all right,' I told him. 'I understand. Go.'

'I'll be back.' His eyes narrowed, the way they always did when he made a solemn vow. 'I will be back for you, my little Nightingale. I promise.'

Gallus never broke a promise in his life.

Except for one.

That was it.

He leaped up into Ebony's saddle, gathering her reins and turning her towards the road. He reached down and grasped my hand. 'Take care of yourself,' he murmured.

'You take care of yourself.' I squeezed his hand. 'Because I don't want to lose you any more than you want to lose me.'

'Fair fortune, Karliah,' he said softly, releasing my hand and straightening up in the saddle. 'Eyes open. Walk with the shadows.'

'Nocturnal guide you, Gallus,' I replied.

He smiled at me, and as he stood there with the afternoon sunlight streaming down upon him I thought he had rarely looked more dazzling in all the time I'd known him.

Had I known that would be the last smile he would give me for twenty five years, I would have smiled back far harder than I did.

But I did not know.

He tugged at his reins in the sunlight, and galloped away down the road, a dark speck on the bright horizon, until he vanished into the golden trees.

I watched him go. I waited for what seemed like a minute, yet was probably only a few seconds. Then I turned and ran up to the stables and practically dragged Dusk from his stall.

'I said I understood, Gallus,' I muttered. 'But I never said I gave in.'

'Dir volaan!'

I leaped to the side with a panicked, involuntary yelp as the Draugr's axe blade cleaved the air in the exact place where I had been standing only an instant before. Its eyes, hollows of bitterness and madness, met mine for a split second before it lunged again, even more viciously than before. Narrowly escaping the jagged edge of the weapon, I wrenched an arrow onto my bowstring and sent it hurtling into the creature's heart- if it had one. It let out an agonised screech, followed by a hideous rasping sound, before collapsing to the cold floor in a heap of withered bones and dust.

I let out the breath I had been holding, retrieved my arrow, and pressed on. My breath formed clouds of silvery mist in the cold air as I descended a flight of steps, trying to creep past the figures lying on the indents in the walls all around me without making any noise. I did not want to disturb them. If they were dead, to disturb their slumber would be a dishonour to their memories. If they were undead, to alert them to my presence would be death.

I had been in the sanctum about an hour now, and though I had found both Ebony and Flint tethered to trees outside the tomb, I had found no trace of either of my fellow Nightingales so far- except for the countless corpses that lay scattered around the ruin, their cursed half- lives cut short by the gaping sword wounds they bore. Though some instinct deep within me told me that I was getting close, my worry for Gallus and Mercer- Gallus especially- was increasing with every corner I turned and every step I took. Every time I heard a noise, I jumped at least a foot into the air and turned towards it, hoping that it would be one of them- but it never was. Every time I rounded a turn, I prayed to the Divines that I would see them standing there- but I never did. I did not want to admit it, not even to myself, but I was terrified. The fear ran all the way through me- in my blood, in my gut, and in my bones.

I'll find them, I told myself. I think I'll find them. I hope I'll find them

But what if I don't?

Shivering, I rounded a corner, and stopped dead.

I was standing in a chamber decorated with carvings- so many that even my sharp eyes had to strain to make them out. I could see all sorts of creatures imaginable- men, elves, beastfolk and Draugr, feasting, fighting and dancing, as well as doing a whole manner of other things I couldn't discern. And dragons- everywhere dragons. Breathing fire, flying, battling the mortals that faced them. There was one carving repeated many times- a lone figure standing before the dead body of a dragon, with swirling lines flowing between them.

But I had no time to examine the decoration.

There was a doorway ahead of me. I could tell that once it had been filled with a door- one the enormous puzzle doors that were frequent finds in Nordic tombs such as this one, perhaps- but it was empty now. A yawning blackness lay ahead of me, lit by only the faintest few shafts of light.

And they were there.

I heard them before I saw them. At first, their voices were too quiet to make out. But as I warily approached the open doorway, the nonsensical sounds morphed into words.

Words that made me freeze where I stood. Words that made my eyes widen. Words that made my mouth drop open in horror.

'I think you know why I brought you here.'

'Yes, I know why. I hoped I was wrong.'

'Then if you knew, it was rather unwise to come.'

'Like I said, Mercer. I had hope.'

'Hope? Hope for what?'

'Hope for you, old friend.' Gallus's voice was filled with sorrow, and I felt myself shaking. And not just from the cold. 'Hope that I might have been wrong. And even though it seems I am not wrong, I hoped that I might at least be able to make you see that what you've done, what you're doing, what you're going to do- you can't do it, Mercer.'

'Gallus, you don't understand.' There was suddenly a plea in that brash, sarcastic voice I knew so well, and suddenly the man it belonged to became a stranger to me. Mercer? Pleading? What in the name of the Divines was going on?

'I do understand, Mercer. I know why you've done what you've done. And I know why you're going to try to do what you want to do. But you can't. You simply can't.'

'Why?' The single word hung in the air.

'For the sake of us all. For me, for you, for Nocturnal, for the Nightingales, for the Guild.'

Suddenly, Mercer was angry, and I stepped backwards despite myself. 'Nocturnal? Don't you see? She doesn't care about us, Gallus. She doesn't care about the Guild. She only cares about her own power.'

'You're wrong, Mercer. Nocturnal guides me. Nocturnal guides us all.'

'She guides you, huh? But not me?'

'You've made your choice, Mercer. But it's not too late to change. Those that say that the Dark Lady knows no mercy are wrong.'

'You're not going to change my mind.'

'No, I can't. But you can change your mind, Mercer. Think about this. Is this really about the power? About the money? About the Guild?'

'What do you mean?' The Breton's voice was a low growl, and I could tell that the question was one he already knew the answer to.

'Karliah. I know how you feel about her, and I'm sorry.'

I had been about to take a step forwards. But now I froze rigid.

'How I used to feel about her, you mean.'

'It's not her fault.'

'Oh, I know. It's not her fault she was stolen from me by my supposed best friend.'

'Mercer-'

'Enough.' It was an order. Sharp. Commanding. Angry. And Gallus fell silent.

I stayed where I stood in the darkness, my heart racing within me.

'You know why we're here.' Mercer's voice was suddenly so filled with hatred it almost burned my ears to listen to it.

'Please, Mercer. Please. This isn't you. You're a good man. A brave man. My friend.'

'Not anymore.'

'If I can't persuade you to stop this for your own sake, or for my sake, or for her sake, then do it for the Guild. You've always been loyal to the Guild.'

'Not anymore.'

'Mercer, Nocturnal won't forgive you for this. She has mercy- but she abhors betrayal above all else. If you go through with this, you will never be forgiven. She will kill you. Have you no respect left for her?'

'Not anymore.'

'Mercer-'

'I said enough.'

Deep within me, something kicked into action. I did not understand. Not one single word. But I suddenly knew with an awful, sickening certainty that Gallus was in danger-

And so I ran. I ran forward, into the chamber, into the shadows. Their heads turned towards me and I saw them, standing facing each other, both their swords drawn, both their faces pale as ice.

I stared at the two men who stood in the room before me. Gallus stared at me. Mercer stared at Gallus.

Gallus opened his mouth, and I saw words beginning to form on his lips. But whatever they were, they were never said.

Because suddenly Mercer's eyes narrowed, a smile that can be described as nothing else but evil spread over his face, and he took a single step forward and moved like lightning.

And he lunged faster than the eye could follow-

And the golden metal of his blade caught the weak, watery light for the briefest of moments-

And his hand grasped hold of Gallus's shoulder in a grip of iron-

And Gallus began to turn, his eyes widening in horror and shock-

And I cried out and reached for an arrow, ready to fire-

But too late.

Time slowed to a crawl.

A wordless cry of pure agony ripped through the darkness.

And as it faded, the silence was so deep and profound that it was as if all three of us had been turned to ice where we stood.

Very slowly, that same cruel smile on his face and in his eyes, Mercer withdrew his sword.

Withdrew it from Gallus's chest.

He stood there for a moment, his beautiful brown eyes wide as day. His face was even paler than before, white in the blackness. His sword slipped from his hand, and its bright blade shone as if it were made of moonlight as it clattered to the ground with a noise that sounded like the end of the world. Infinitely slowly, he brought his hand up to the rip in his armour-

And he brought it away coated with blood.

Blood. Bright, wet, and crimson as the poisonous berry of a yew tree. His blood.

He blinked, as if incapable of taking it in. I stood in stunned silence, unable to speak, unable to move. I felt as if I was seeing everything from a million miles away.

Gallus swayed slightly, as a young tree sways when caught in a strong wind. Then, without warning, he pitched forward and fell to his knees. A slight gasp escaped his mouth. And then he sank, slowly, so slowly, as if the Divines were trying to torture me for as long as was possible, down onto the floor.

Mercer stepped backwards, blood dripping from the end of his blade.

I stared and stared.

It was a dream. It had to be a dream. A dark, cruel, evil dream, one that Vaermina had whispered into my ears as I slept. This could not be real. This could not be happening. This could not be true. That wasn't Mercer, his sword painted bright scarlet. That wasn't Gallus, unmoving on the cold hard stone floor, lying in a steadily growing pool of dark blood…

But it was.

It was real.

It was real.

Gods above, it was real-

No, it couldn't be real-

Not him-

No-

It couldn't be him-

Not Gallus, oh Gods, no-

Not Gallus please not Gallus-

Not Gallus not Gallus not Gallus not Gallus-

Anyone but-

'GALLUS!' The scream burst from me as if a hand had reached inside me and torn it from my throat. It smashed through the silence and stillness, and Mercer looked up at me with death in his eyes. 'GALLUS!'

To my amazement, he stirred. Hope shot through me. He was alive, still alive! Could he possibly- maybe- was there any chance at all that-

He lifted his head. His eyes met mine. And suddenly it was as if I was looking right into his soul, right back through the years we had known each other. Once more, he melted out of the shadows of the alleyway. For a second time, he guided me patiently, wisely, gently, through my training. He comforted me as I wept over my mother's body. He led me through my Nightingale ceremony. He squeezed my hand as we counted the heap of golden coins. He cried my name as I fell to the ground in Irkgnthand. He carried me to Winterhold, pleading with me to live. He watched with wide eyes as I sang to him down on the shore. He pressed my gift into my hand on the evening of New Life Festival. He stood outside the stables, begging me not to follow him, because he couldn't bear to lose me-

But he had been wrong.

I had followed him.

And he had not lost me after all.

I had lost him.

It hit me like a physical blow. More than that, it ripped me open like a blade, tearing me apart, deep down to the core.

I had lost him.

Lost him.

Lost him lost him lost him lost him lost him-

'GALLUS!' His name ripped from my mouth again. His gaze burned into mine- and he was crying.

And a single word dropped from his lips.

'Karliah!'

It echoed and re-echoed and echoed again from the walls of the chamber- a final farewell, a final pledge of love. For a moment, time stood still.

Then Mercer spat onto the ground. His eyes burned with hatred as he took a pace forward and raised his sword again. I cried out, but I was still frozen where I stood, and I could make no move to stop him as he brought his blade smashing down through the air-

Gallus stiffened. A long, low, rasping breath issued from his throat. His hands clutched at the air. His eyes never left mine- gazing at me with so much horror and pain and fear and love that I could hardly bear to keep looking- yet I could not turn away.

The once bright brown eyes, eyes that had always gleamed with excitement and friendship and joy, stared into mine for a second more.

And then-

Without warning-

Before I could say a word or move a muscle-

They flickered shut.

And he lay still.

I felt the world jerk beneath my feet, tremble- and shatter into a thousand pieces. The ground was gone from under me, and I was falling, falling through the empty blackness of Oblivion, falling, falling, falling…

Mercer pulled his sword out from the limp body. His eyes- two cold chips of grey stone- looked up at me.

I stared back. The blood was roaring in my ears, and my heart was pounding, and nothing made sense, and the thoughts were flying through my head to fast to control, and the world had ended, and Gallus was lying on the floor, not moving, not speaking, not breathing, his blood pooling in a thick scarlet lake around him, and Mercer killed him, and Mercer betrayed him, and Mercer betrayed everything, and Gallus was dead dead dead dead dead-

But through all of my confusion, I suddenly realised one thing.

There was still an arrow, waiting patiently on my bowstring.

I let out a scream- no words, just rage. My arms no longer felt like a part of me- nothing did- and yet they moved, seemingly of their own accord, carrying out the simple movement they had performed so many countless times before. I felt the feathers brushing my cheek and released the arrow- at the exact same moment that Mercer wrenched his dagger from his belt and hurled it at my head.

The two weapons sailed through the air. Both struck home, and two cries of pain split the air. Mercer staggered backwards, clutching his side, the feathered shaft protruding from his armour. I felt a sudden, burning pain in my left shoulder, as if someone had clasped a flaming torch to it, as the dagger ripped through my armour, opening up a long, bright red wound, and continued on its flight, clattering into the wall behind me and skidding onto the floor.

We both stood there, our hands pressed to our wounds. Eye burned in the darkness. One pair, deep indigo, wide with horror, the other, cold grey, smouldering with hatred. A still, unmoving form huddled on the floor at our feet, the brown eyes that had once shone with love sealed tightly shut forever.

From what seemed to be a whole world away, I saw Mercer lift his sword.

And so I turned, and I ran.

And ran.

And ran.

Through the tunnels and passageways. Up the stairs. Past the Draugr that hurled themselves at me as if they simply did not exist.

Because they did not exist.

If Gallus was dead, then nothing was real any more.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead-

I kept running.

My feet seemed to fly up the steps. My breath came in short, shallow gasps. Suddenly I was emerging into light- so bright and dazzling that I covered my eyes as it blinded me for a moment. Drops of scarlet blood fell onto the pure white snow.

He's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead he's dead-

Still running. Running. Running through the trees that loomed up ahead of me, as if deliberately trying to block my path. Running through snow that seemed to grab at my feet with every stride, sucking me down. Running under a sky that was deepest black, spangled with the beautiful, peaceful lights of the stars…

Dead gone lost forever Gallus my Gallus my Gallus-

I fell. Fell down into the snow. It was cold, so cold, yet somehow I barely felt it. I was dimly aware of my rasping breaths, yet they seemed to be coming from far away. Everything seemed far away, unreal…

The world was beginning to spin, to distort, to fade away. The trees were being torn up from the ground, the heavens were breaking into pieces, and the stars were falling from the sky.

And he was gone.

I lifted my head. I looked towards the stars. They looked back with cold, unfeeling eyes.

'Gallus!' I cried, and the word echoed around the woods, as if the whole world were shouting his name, trying to call him back.

But there was no reply.

And there would never be a reply.

Never. Never, never, never, never, never.

He was gone.

A black wave crashed over me and dragged me down into Oblivion, and I knew no more.

END OF BOOK TWO