'What had she been thinking?' Arsha wondered to herself as she fled from Brynjolf's presence. She had almost told him how she felt. She had almost admitted the fact that she couldn't lie to him because she loved him. That she couldn't stand being the one who hurt him because he had given her so much joy. That she would rather wander Nirn alone for the rest of her life than to be with anyone other than him. Those were words she could never say aloud. She had already caused him too much pain. She would not add guilt on to that. Brynjolf would never love her, and even if he ever did, she would still have to leave him. She was dangerous and he deserved someone better.

Arsha flung the door to her small room open and quickly gathered her things from where they were lying. She looked around the room one more time to make sure that there were no signs of her presence left. She didn't bother making sure the bed was made; she hadn't slept in it at all. Satisfied, she left the room, her bow and a small traveling bag, skeleton key tucked safely inside, slung on her back and her daggers hanging at her sides.

Her hand was on the doorknob when she felt a presence behind her. She whirled around to find Karliah standing behind her. Arsha tensed up, expecting the other elf to try and stop her from leaving, but when Karliah spoke it wasn't to argue.

"I'm not going to try and stop you, Arsha. I know that would be pointless," Karliah stated in her soft voice. Arsha nodded gratefully. She had made her choice and wasn't in the mood to argue. "I'm here to thank you."

Arsha tilted her head, confused. She had done nothing to deserve any thanks. All she had managed to accomplish were pitiful attempts to try and redeem herself somehow. And she had failed.

"You are going to the Twilight Sepulcher, a place I cannot bring myself to enter. I can't face Lady Nocturnal yet." Karliah looked down towards the ground, in shame. "You have more than paid back any debt you feel you owed the Guild, Arsha."

It was Arsha's turn to look away. It wasn't to the Guild that she owed any debts, those had been cleared with Mercer's death. Her debts were to Brynjolf, and this was the last thing she was going to do to help pay them. After this, she would disappear.

Karliah seemed to sense her thoughts. "He will learn to forgive you, Arsha."

Arsha shook her head. "Maybe he will forgive me for what I did to him, although he shouldn't. Maybe he will be willing to see past the lies I told, but even then I would still leave. He cannot forgive me completely because he doesn't know the extent of my crimes. No one does. I am a monster, Karliah. His life will be brighter without me."

Karliah didn't respond for a long moment, then she gave a nod. "Thank you, Arsha. Farewell."

"Farewell," Arsha relied in a solemn tone. This was the end. Then she opened the door and stepped into the frozen night.

Brynjolf woke from his dreams. He couldn't remember what exactly the dream had been about but the strange sense of urgency lingered. Feeling somewhat stupid for acting on a feeling, Brynjolf stood from his bed and left his room.

The common area was empty, and even the bartender seemed to have disappeared. The last embers of the fire crackled in the hearth, giving off barely enough heat to warm the space. Brynjolf knew that it must be sometime in the early hours of the morning. So why was he awake? Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Brynjolf turned to head back into his room. His hand was on the door, about to push it open, when a strange urge to check on Arsha washed over him. The part of him that insisted that he didn't care about the wellbeing of the woman who had tortured him was shrinking at an alarming rate.

Brynjolf walked over to the door of the room he thought might be Arsha's, careful to keep his footsteps silent so he didn't disturb her. He paused outside the door for a few moments before pushing it open as silently as he could and was met with an unexpected sight.

Instead of finding Arsha peacefully asleep or even tossing and turning in a nightmare, the room was empty. In fact, there wasn't even any proof that she had ever been there. A sudden sense of urgency flooded him, and Brynjolf strode over to the next room in three steps, flinging the door open without ceremony.

Karliah was sitting on the bed with her head in her hands. She didn't look up when he barged in. She didn't even flinch. "Karliah," Brynjolf growled, "where is she?" There were more emotions in his voice than he cared to count.

Karliah didn't look up from the floor as she responded in a flat voice. "She's gone and she isn't coming back."

Brynjolf's heart stopped. Arsha couldn't be gone. She couldn't have just left. And yet the growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. "What do you mean?" Brynjolf's voice was dangerously quiet.

A small sigh escaped Karliah's lips as she stood from her bed, finally looking Brynjolf in the eyes. "Arsha is taking the Skeleton Key back to where it belongs in the Twilight Sepulcher. She isn't going to return to the Guild," Karliah's voice got softer as she continued, "I doubt she plans to stay in Skyrim."

For a few moments, Brynjolf was frozen, unable to comprehend what Karliah had said. Then it came crashing down on him. "You let her go. You let her leave! Why, Karliah?" Brynjolf demanded. The words came tumbling out before his brain had a chance to think about them.

Karliah shook her head, unaffected by Brynjolf's anger. "That was not my decision to make, and you know it. She made her choice, and she made it for you."

"For me? How does her leaving do anything for me?" Other than hurt him. Brynjolf was surprised by how much it did hurt. How could she have just left? He hadn't even had time to try and sort things out, Talos, he hadn't had time to decide if he wanted to try and sort things out.

"It protects you. Arsha knows she's hurt you in the past, she feared that if she stayed then she would only hurt you again."

Suddenly, everything that Arsha had done made sense. The reason why she had never fought back against his coldness towards her, the reason she had taken his scorn, the reason she had healed him before herself. She had put his well being ahead of hers in an attempt to repay him for the past.

As soon as that thought appeared, another one pushed it away. This was an act, it had to be. Why would the Dragonborn actually care about anyone? She couldn't care. It didn't make any sense, and yet, what else could it be?

A determination flashed within him. He had to find Arsha. If he let her disappear, he would never be able to find her again, and the thought of letting her slip away without resolving… whatever this was was strangely painful. "Where is the Twilight Sepulcher?" he asked, a plan already forming in his mind. Karliah answered with the location, looking confused.

"What are you going to do?" she asked warily.

Brynjolf turned toward the door as he answered. He wasn't going to waste any more time than he already had. "I'm going after Arsha. I won't let her disappear, Karliah. I can't," Brynjolf stated solemnly. "I need you to go back to the Guild and tell them that Mercer is dead. Bring Delvin the Eyes."

Brynjolf felt Karliah's hand on his shoulder. "Be careful Brynjolf. I will meet you at the Sepulcher as soon as I can."

Brynjolf nodded gratefully and then he was gone. There was no time to waste.

Arsha pushed the door to the Bannered Mare open wearily. She hadn't stopped walking since she had left Nightgate Inn in the early hours of the morning. Right now all she felt like doing was sleeping, possibly forever.

The innkeeper showed her to her room, the same room she had rented last time she had been here, and then left her alone. As soon as the door closed, Arsha flung her weapons and her bag into one corner and collapsed on the bed. It was far from the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on, but to her tired body, it was as if she were lying on a cloud.

She closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh that was weighted with more emotions than she could be bothered to count in her tired state. She tried to sleep, but despite how much her body craved rest, her mind wouldn't give it to her. A chapter of her life had just ended, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it. She was sad of course. The past few months had been wonderful and despite everything that had been going on, she had felt happy. Leaving that behind was painful. And yet, there was a strange sense of relief as well. Now that Arsha had left Brynjolf, and everyone else in the Guild, behind, she didn't have to worry about them being hurt by her or her past. That thought left her feeling somewhat empty as if the lack of the Guild in her life was a hole that she could no longer feel. The prevailing emotion, however, was a bittersweet peace. Arsha's mind finally began to slow down, and she drifted off to sleep with a single tear tracing its way down her masked face and a sad smile on her hidden lips.

Brynjolf trudged through the snow, the icy wind biting at his face. He didn't even feel the pain. His mind was completely consumed by the need to reach Arsha as fast as he possibly could. It was noon, and if he kept at his current pace he should reach Whiterun by the time the sun set. He just had to pray that that was where Arsha was. And that he wouldn't be too late.