((19th of Frostfall/October, 4E 202))

[Russet's POV/1st Person]

Pain. That was the first thing I registered when I came to, a gut-wrenching pain that was both familiar and alien. Is this... a Daedric Realm? Are these the Hunting Grounds? It didn't have the environment I'd have expected from Hircine's land, but then again, I'd never been there.

My attempt to prop myself up ended in failure. Thoughts I'd barely begun to register wandered, solidifying only once into a face so real I reached out to touch it. My fingers went through the phantom image, but it was heart-rending nonetheless. A faint beard, long red hair cradling a strong jaw, and desperate pine-green eyes that pleaded with unease. It became less vivid the longer I remained trapped between unconsciousness and reality.

Once his face disappeared entirely, I was not left alone by my thoughts.

"Russet... why would you do this?" The sad voice of my Shield-Sister made my chest ache with regret. I forcefully shut away my emotions and looked back up at Aela with an empty expression.

"Look at this," growled Skjor, scowling in distaste as he crossed his arms. "You don't even feel remorse, do you?"

I paused before responding with strength. "I do," I said truthfully, frustrated with Skjor's conclusion. I shifted my gaze to his right where the two wolf twins stood, watching me while looking like a pair of kicked puppies. "I... I wish I could stay. It was an accident."

"Jarl Balgruuf had no choice but to exile you from Whiterun." Vilkas' voice was reluctant but firm. "And that means you're no longer a Companion."

Farkas stepped up to me and held my hand, gentle despite his rough skin. "Why did you do it?" he asked sadly, his sharp ice-blue eyes tugging at my heartstrings. "Now I... now we can't see each other again."

"We will," I promised quietly, tucking a lock of his long black hair behind his ear. "Someday, we will." A thought occurred to me. "Come with me," I urged, not wanting my time with him to be over.

He opened and closed his mouth several times before backing away, avoiding my eyes with remorse in his own. "I can't," he said sadly, gesturing to the rest of the Companions standing outside Jorrvaskr. "I have to stay with them, and with my brother."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. While I'd expected his reaction, a part of me had held out hope that he'd agree to follow me.

"Russet, youngling, look to me." The sorrowful voice of Kodlak Whitemane was what pushed my already fragile emotions to break. Tears rolled down my face while my mind cried out a silent scream. "Do not look at this as the end. Look at this as an opportunity to better yourself and become someone the Companions could be proud of... even if it is a path you must walk alone."

"You don't belong here anymore," Skjor growled carelessly, baring his teeth in warning. "Get out of Whiterun while you can."

His threat made my temper rise, but it quickly faded as I recalled that it was exactly what had landed me in this situation in the first place. "I have until midnight to leave," I said slowly, "and so I will say my goodbyes."

Aela spoke again. "I wish I could convince Jarl Balgruuf to change his decision, but I also know in my heart you cannot be with us any longer." I bit my lip and nodded, now unable to reply.

"This is my fault," Farkas murmured. "If I'd been there, I could have helped you."

"No, you couldn't. And the blame lies squarely on my own shoulders." I slung my pack onto my back. My heart shriveled as I watched his faith in me crumble to dust. "I'm sorry."

I turned my back, but Farkas piped up before I could take those final steps away from Jorrvaskr. "Russ?" I paused, but couldn't bring myself to turn around. "I'll send you letters."

My vision was fogged when I came out of the memory. I faintly felt something in my mouth, something tasting of cold metal and an odd slush. I couldn't think or act, limbs weak and arms heavy from either exhaustion or whatever had occurred to put me in such a deep stupor.

I never spoke, only closed my eyes and blacked out into slumber.

...

((1st of Evening Star/December, 4E 202))

When I finally managed to grasp consciousness for good, I was more than slightly disoriented. My throat ached for water, though my stomach was full. I was aware of a throbbing sensation in my chest and remained still as it slowly faded away to nothing.

I attempted to move again, this time managing it without too much difficulty. Blinking rapidly at a blinding light bursting through my eyelids, I forced my sight to readjust to the sun reflecting off the white powder snow outside my tent.

...Tent? When did I move to a tent? Why did I lay upon a bedroll, my pack safe and sound beside me?

"Skyrim," I murmured to myself as I touched the icy ground to ensure I was awake. "I'm not dead... I'm in Skyrim." I crawled out of the tent and squinted as I took in my surroundings. Besides the tent, a fireplace and secondary tent had been erected, though they didn't look permanent. In short, I was standing in a temporary camp of some kind.

A sweet voice broke the silence, startling me immediately. "You've awoken." I grasped at my belt for my sword, only to panic when I found it had vanished. With the panic came a sweeping wave of vertigo, nearly sending me to the ground again. A strong arm helped keep me on my feet, and the voice sounded again. "Easy, easy," it soothed. "Don't move so quickly. How are you feeling?"

I looked at the source of the voice, trying to place where I'd seen the familiar face. Dismay gripped me as it dawned on me. "You- you're Karliah!" I exclaimed indignantly, stepping out and raising my fists. "You shot me!" It took the Dunmer almost no effort to push me away.

"No, I- well, I suppose I did, but in doing so, I saved your life," she refuted, reaching out to touch my chest gently. I harshly slapped her hands away, the pain still quite real. "If you'll take a look at your wounds, I can explain everything." Though suspicious, I opened my cuirass to find more than a simple arrow hole. A massive scabbed-over puncture wound in my stomach stared back at me, and I looked up at Karliah accusingly.

"Did you do this to me?" I demanded. The Dark Elf shook her head and waved her hands insistently.

"No, absolutely not. That was the doing of the traitor Mercer Frey. Do you remember that?" It took a moment to place her words, but the memory came flooding back.

A beatdown from behind, a shove forward straight into the line of fire, delirium followed by a finishing blow by the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild.

Anger roiled in my belly as the memory replayed over and over in my head. Past conversations with Merer began to resurface, and I wondered why I hadn't paid more attention all along.

.

"...I want to catch her while she's distracted. Take the lead."

.

"...Draugr!"

.

"...You're crazy."

"You have no idea."

.

"...You're still alive."

"You sound disappointed."

"Only a little."

.

"...You'll get your just rewards when this is all over, Russet."

.

And the final clue, the apoplectic Guildmaster staring at me with contempt while I stood frozen next to Brynjolf.

"...Trust me when I say this... she won't make it out of Snow Veil Sanctum alive."

The wolf in my heart screeched, clawing at my chest with painful claws borne of fury and pain. A growl escaped my lips, followed by a vicious scream. The wolf shoved against my skin, desperately trying to break free of the weak human body. To both its chagrin and my own, I was unable to give life to my wolf spirit.

"If you're trying to turn, then it won't work." I shivered on all fours, my breathing irregular as my inner wolf whined and retreated, though the anger that had summoned it remained. "I added a suppression agent to the food I gave you during your coma. A precaution, I'm sure you understand."

Shaking myself off, I returned to my feet, a headache forming as the result of a failed transformation. "How did you know?" I growled, eyeing Karliah with even more distrust.

"Don't you think one servant of a Daedric Prince could identify another?" she said enigmatically, only adding confusion to my already bewildered brain.

I scratched at my itchy skin. "I have to kill him," I snarled, seeing Mercer's despicable face in my mind's eye. "He's going to pay for what he did to me!"

Karliah's hand wrapped around my wrist, preventing me from moving. "You can't go now. Don't you think if killing him outright was an option, I'd have taken it instead of waiting ten years to resurface?" Although she had a point, my tortured fury was crushing me from the inside.

"Let me go, Karliah," I demanded, ripping myself from her grasp. "Let's assume I don't run back to the Guild to rip Mercer's heart out with my bare hands and tear it in two. Give me a reason to trust you and wait."

"Because if you simply return without proof of any kind, the Guild will persecute you as it did to me." The Dunmer raised an empty glass bottle before throwing it to the ground. "Plus, if I hadn't shot you you'd have died."

"And how so? Mercer was able to get the best of me because you shot me."

Karliah appeared slightly regretful. "My original intent was to use that arrow on Mercer. My arrow was dipped with a unique paralytic poison that, as I'm sure you discovered, would have incapacitated him. Mercer must have suspected I'd use such a tactic, and he thus used you as a human shield. I made a split-second decision to get you out of the way, and it saved your life. The paralysis poison slowed your heart to nearly nothing, and it kept you from bleeding out. However, it also greatly slowed your recovery. Even I hadn't predicted you'd be put in such a long coma while your body healed itself. Believe me, had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation." I was stupefied at the way my life seemed to have turned upside-down. "After you remained unconscious for a full day, I chose to remove you from Snow Veil Sanctum and keep watch over you until you recovered."

"Why save me?" I queried, still not entirely willing to trust her.

Karliah steadily met my eyes with her enigmatic violet ones, a curious color I'd never seen on a Dark Elf before. "Because I believed having another Guildmember as an ally would be better than leaving you for dead. If Mercer chose to eliminate you, that means he saw you as a threat." She gestured to the cauldron. "The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect, and I only had enough for one shot. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive. He needs to pay for his crimes. He must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he has done, including Gallus' murder." The utter loathing she expressed in her tone finally convinced me for good that she was telling the truth.

"So it was Frey who killed Gallus," I murmured to myself, the pieces clicking together. "At this point, I guess I'm not surprised. I'll help you." That traitorous son of a bitch had tried to murder me, and I'd repay the favor the soonest I could. "But I have a few questions first."

"Of course. I'll answer the best I can."

I clenched my jaw. "You wanted to bring Mercer back, but how were you going to convince the Guild to trust your word over his? They've spent the last decade cursing your name." The obstacle seemed rather impossible to surpass. It would take a damn miracle for them to believe her word over Mercer's, even if I took her side. After all, she was a known killer, while Frey was their trusted Guildmaster.

Eyes green as emeralds appeared in my mind, and my doubts only grew. Especially after learning about Bryn's past, I suspected that even he wouldn't be eager to trust me if I took Karliah's side. I was instantly disheartened by the thought and instead waited on Karliah's response.

The violet-eyed Dunmer shifted aside the trees, giving me further perspective on where she'd brought me. Still near Snow Veil Sanctum, she'd chosen a well-hidden space to build her camp.

"My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus' remains." She dug out a leatherbound journal from her pack and held it up. "I suspect the information needed is written inside. Of course, I'd hoped for more time to translate the writing inside, but you and Mercer arrived before I had the chance." She handed the journal to me, and I inspected the curious cover. A peculiar symbol was pressed onto the brown leather, a bird with outstretched wings inside of a circle. I ran my fingers over the emblem, though received nothing from Karliah over its meaning.

I leafed through the pages and realized I was unable to understand a single thing. "So you don't know what it says?" I returned it to her.

"No, I don't," she admitted. "I wish I did, but the journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before."

"I don't know what it is either," I confessed.

Karliah appeared unsurprised. "I wouldn't have thought so. But I do know someone who might be able to help us." She considered the book for a moment. "Enthir, Gallus' friend from the College of Winterhold. He's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity." I was instantly intrigued, recalling the various times the phrase had been brought up. Gallus calling Karliah his 'little nightingale,' Mercer and Karliah discussing a Nightingale oath in Snow Veil Sanctum...

"There's that word again, 'Nightingale.'" I hoped for an explanation I'd understand but supposed it was bound to be complicated.

Karliah sat down on the bedroll, staring ahead as if lost in thought. I quickly became impatient and coughed pointedly to bring the gray-skinned Elf out of her daze. "Apologies. There were three of us: myself, Gallus, and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften."

I sat down on the other side of the tent. "And what else?" Maybe I sounded too eager in my desire to know, as Karliah eyed me with distrust and looked away.

"Perhaps I'll tell you more later. Right now, we need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation, assuming Enthir can help us."

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, disappointed not only in the lack of information but also in the extra work that I'd have to put in. Karliah ignored my frustration and pulled a few small glass bottles from her pouch.

"Take these," she urged, slipping them into my pack beside her. "They may prove useful on your journey." I took the pack she held out and looked around for my missing Skyforge Steel sword, my last link to the Companions. "Are you looking for your sword?" I nodded wordlessly. "I suspect Mercer Frey stole it, as it was nowhere near your body."

"Dammit!" I snapped, kicking a nearby pot of liquid. The contents would have spilled over the snow had Karliah not caught the cauldron before it hit the ground.

"Watch it!" she snapped. "I've been working on a second paralysis potion since before I dragged you out of the ruins!"

Still furious, I couldn't find it in me to apologize. "I should leave," I growled, looking to the north while shielding my eyes from the cold sunlight reflecting on the snow. "One more question. How long was I out?"

Karliah tipped her neck up and stared at the tree canopy as she counted. "Approximately a month and a half. Forty-six days, by my count." My eyes bugged out as I took that in.

"Wha- how?!"

"You were not the first comatose patient I've had to treat. The first was a Khajiit who later imparted to me the knowledge necessary to begin the first poison. As for how you've managed to avoid starvation or dehydration, I gave you water and forced a blend of various fruits and meats down your throat." I frowned and furrowed my brows, hardly able to believe that I'd been out for over a month.

"Are you going to stay here, then?" I questioned. Karliah nodded and picked up the cauldron I'd kicked, pointedly staring at me as she replaced it to where it belonged.

"Yes. Not only do I have another brew to restart, but I also have to come up with another plan, assuming Enthir is able to help us." She eyed me somberly. "This poison may not take as long as the last as I have perfected the recipe itself. However, don't expect to see the Guild anytime soon." She appeared to contemplate something before heading to her pack. "Here. Take this. Since Mercer stole your only weapon, you should have it." She withdrew a sword resting in an exquisite black sheath, and upon drawing it out, I was awestruck by its beauty. Its color, that of a starless sky, almost seemed to drink in the light around it. A symbol matching the bird on the cover of Gallus' journal adorned the thick hilt. I doubted there were many swords that could have equaled its ethereal magnificence. "It belonged to Gallus, once upon a time... but considering the circumstances, I think he'd approve."

I nodded gratefully and took the blade, admiring it for a second before tying it to my belt. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Stick to the shadows."

...

((3rd of Evening Star/December, 4E 202))

Thankfully, I was left alone by both bandits and wildlife in my venture to Winterhold. I lamented the absence of a horse, and what would have been a trip of a few hours became a trek of two days. I wanted to stop several times, but the thought of vengeance kept me going. I'd return to the Guild with proof of his treachery and cut his throat if it was the last thing I did.

Upon reaching the College of Winterhold, I was prevented from entering by a female Altmer. Despite my pleading, threats, and cajoling, I was refused entry. "You must show a degree of skill with magic to enter the College," she told me snootily, not bothering to hide her smirk.

I lifted my lips in a snarl and clenched my fingers into fists. "You-" I gritted my teeth. "Listen, woman. I just need to speak with Enthir."

"Enthir?" The Altmer lifted a brow in suspicion. "Whatever could you need him for?"

"That's my business, now isn't it?" I pointed out. "Can you bring him out to see me, or not?"

The High Elf eyed me for a moment before nodding. She produced an orb of light in her hand and spoke softly into it, pausing before extinguishing it altogether. "He'll be down soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon enough. Why don't you head to the Frozen Hearth? I'll send Enthir to you once he finds the time. Besides, you look like you might fall apart if you spend any more time out in this weather." Again, she snorted derogatorily at me. "I suppose the cold resistance you Nords boast isn't all it's made out to be, now is it?"

...

"Skeever-faced bitch," I muttered, staring into my mug of ale. The alcohol, along with the flames in the midst of the room, chased away the chill in my bones.

"Letter for Nelacar?"

"Ah, I'm over here."

"Here you are." I watched as the courier passed a letter to another Altmer, this time a male with a heavy hood over his head. Nelacar read through the letter and grinned. Snatching a piece of paper from a nearby desk, he quickly scribbled a reply as well.

"Could you deliver this to Riften's court wizard, please?" He gave a rather large pouch of gold to the courier. "This is for you. I have a rather large package for you to deliver back, so please excuse me while I retrieve it." Nelacar hurried off, leaving the courier alone in the front room. Riften. My heart started beating heavier with every second my thoughts lingered on my home. Riften... and Brynjolf.

"Sorry to interrupt!" I blurted, mentally slapping myself in the face. Still, I couldn't seem to stop the words tumbling from my mouth. Perhaps I didn't want to. "I couldn't help but overhear that you'll be making a stop in Riften. Would you be willing to deliver an extra letter?" What am I doing?

The courier bowed to me. "Of course, madam. Do you have said letter on hand?"

"Oh, I- not yet, just give me a moment." I looked around frantically. "Actually, do you have a quill and paper I could borrow?" The courier handed me the writing materials without a word, and at that moment, Nelacar reappeared with a large misshapen bag and handed it off.

"Ma'am? Are you finished?"

I tapped my lips with the quill. "Yes, just a second." I decided to keep it short and scribbled a few lines. "Please bring this to Brynjolf." The courier visibly deflated at the mention of his name. "I take it you know him?"

"I know he sold me a potion of wisp essence that turned out to be nothing but nirnroot mush. Ugh... what business could you have with that charlatan?" Dammit, Brynjolf.

"My business is my own." I gave him an extra few septims. "Keep this on the down-low, please."

The courier nodded and tucked the money into the pouch at his side. "Of course. Will you be here to take a response?"

"I doubt it." I paused. "If he asks, tell him the sender told you there was no need to reply."

"Understood. Have a good day, ma'am."

Brynjolf... I'm doing all I can to keep my promise.