((2nd of Morning Star/January, 4E 203))
"Meet me tomorrow night at the Shadow Stone, south of Riften. Travel together. I'll be there to guide you the rest of the way. Shadow hide you."
An icy breeze gently kissed my cheek as I kicked through frost-covered weeds and flowers outside Riften. My nose itched in the freezing cold weather, and Brynjolf's presence beside me was both familiar and unwanted. Karliah's order for us to travel together seemed unnecessary to me, but I supposed that whatever she was doing needed to get done a certain way.
I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose. "What do you want?" Brynjolf's ensuing surprise was practically too obviously fake. "Gods, for a con man, you're a horrible actor. Again, what do you want?"
"Nothing. I mean, I'd appreciate it if you'd talk to me, but..." He cleared his throat while his fingertips grazed my cheek playfully. "Your cheeks are red. It's kind of cu-"
"Nope. We are not going there." I glared at Brynjolf furiously. "You held a sword to my throat just a few days ago while calling me a liar and a traitor."
Brynjolf scowled at the ground, booting a rock out of his path. "Lass, if you look at it from my perspective-"
"I can't look at it from your perspective because I can't fit my head that far up my ass!"
"Lass, please." He looked at me imploringly. "Just let me explain." I crossed my arms, which Brynjolf obviously knew wasn't acceptance, but he went ahead anyway. "Where should I start?" I refused to answer. "All right, how about this? You let me speak and explain my side. After that, if you still don't like what you hear, you can slap me."
"Brynjolf, I'll do a lot more than slap you if your story is a bunch of bull."
"Fine." I was almost surprised by how quickly he agreed, making me wonder how strongly he believed his explanation would smooth things over. Although I refused to look at him head-on, I still watched him warily out of the corner of my eye. Instead of being shameful or sad, he looked determined. As I'd agreed, I forced myself to listen as he began to speak. "I waited for you to walk through that door every single day. I'd wake up and think, "I wonder if today's the day she comes back," but you never did."
"Brynjolf, you're losing me already." I scrunched up my nose. "What, you wanted me back so you could beat my ass?"
"No, lass." His green eyes shone in the moonlight like a forest canopy under the stars. "I wanted you to come back so I could give you an answer." The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. "Remember your question?"
"I thought we already discussed this."
"Lass, just let me finish explaining, please." I quieted down, the most courtesy I was willing to show him at the moment. "After one week- more than enough time to get to and from Snow Veil Sanctum- I decided to start looking for you. What I found was Mercer, stumbling through the snow and bleeding all over the place like he was on his last leg. Niruin and I brought him back to the Guild, and Mercer claimed you pushed him away and took the arrow from Karliah."
"Why in Oblivion was he hurt?" I queried. "Neither Karliah nor I even touched him." It dawned on me. "Oh, that mother- he hurt himself up to make him look like a victim." I cracked my knuckles. "What a piece of trash. But still, why would Mercer paint me as his savior?"
Brynjolf shrugged, uncomfortable as he avoided my eyes. "I don't know. What I do know is that I..." He faltered, and his voice began to crack. "I didn't want to believe you were dead. Weeks and weeks went by, and I slowly had to accept that I'd never see you again, never train with you again, never go on another job again." He slowed his step, and I found my resolve weakening ever so slightly. "But then I got your letter, months after Karliah supposedly killed you."
My walls went up again. "So it was my fault for sending that letter?"
"That's not what I said, lass." Brynjolf stood up straight again and took a deep breath of the sharp nighttime air. "After I received your letter, I took matters into my own hands to see if you'd somehow survived Karliah's attack, and if you had, why you hadn't come back to me."
"I wanted to," I blurted, inwardly cursing myself as the words tumbled from my lips. "I wanted to come back right away, but Karliah convinced me that if I wanted revenge on Mercer, I'd have to come back with proof of his treachery. She said I jeopardized everything by sending that letter." I chewed on my lip to the point of pain. When I touched my lip, my finger came away tipped with red. My tongue swept my lip to get rid of the blood, and I didn't miss the way Brynjolf's eyes followed it. "Well? Is that everything?"
Brynjolf blinked in confusion a few times before he brought himself back. "Oh, right. I went out to Snow Veil Sanctum alone under the pretense of only bringing your body back. I figured that if you were alive, I could track you down, and if you were dead... then I really would have brought your body back for a proper funeral."
I stopped moving altogether and set my arms akimbo. Brynjolf stopped with me, perhaps confused as to why I wasn't walking along anymore. "You went to Snow Veil Sanctum? When?"
"Early Evening Star," he responded. "Maybe the ninth or the tenth."
"I was either in Winterhold or on my way to Markarth at that point. So when did you make the leap from 'Russet's alive, yippee, can't wait to see her' to 'what a faithless bitch, can't wait to kill her?'" Brynjolf appeared stricken.
"It started when I met Karliah inside of the dungeon. She confirmed that you were still alive and working with her, but she didn't give any more information on you." Understanding dawned on me, and a sliver of resentment formed within my chest for Karliah. "I returned to the Guild and told Mercer everything, and he said that it was possible you'd been working for her all along with the intent to crush the Guild."
I curled my lip up, irritated at his lack of trust in me. "And you believed him?" I hissed, taking a step away. "That was all it took?"
"It wasn't just that, lass. It was a lot of things that didn't paint a pretty picture." His regret was evident in the tone of his voice. "And I had no reason to doubt Mercer at the time. Lass... I wondered if you'd been using me, and I gave in."
A laugh burst from my throat without my permission. "That's your excuse, then?" My throat thrummed as my emotions began to rise. "You didn't bother waiting for me, didn't even consider that something was off. You took the easiest option and went with it."
"Lass, don't you understand?" His voice began to rise at the same time the wind picked up. "Yes, I took the easy road, and I know I should have trusted in you, but lass-" Brynjolf opened and closed his mouth, apparently unable to grasp what he was trying to say. "Lass, it was easier to hate you alive than love you dead."
Several heartbeats passed, and I wasn't sure how I felt for a moment. It wasn't a positive mixture of emotions, that was for sure. "Am I supposed to believe that?" I asked him softly, though anger bubbled beneath my words. "That's just an excuse! You don't love me, and you never did! You told me your love for me was fake while you held a goddamn sword to my throat!"
"I never said my love for you was fake!" Brynjolf boomed, startling me enough to send me a few steps back. He calmed down slightly, but his aggravation was still quite high. "I told you I was wrong for loving you."
"...Is that supposed to make it better?"
Brynjolf grabbed my hands without warning. "Lass, I made a mistake, but I truly don't believe we were a mistake." I ripped myself away from him with a glare. "You asked how I felt before you left, and I should have told you then. I loved you. I still do."
For a full minute, the only sound was the leaves rustling in the wind and the occasional crow's caw through the forest. When I leaned in, a spark of hope lit up in his eyes. "Then prove it."
He was visibly startled by my response. "What?"
"You heard me. I've had enough pretty words from a con man who changes his mind with every breath. You love me? Then prove it by letting me go."
...
"It's about time you two got here." Karliah crossed her arms, tapping her foot to show her displeasure. "What took you so long?"
I cleared my throat. "We, uh... had a row."
Karliah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Of course you did." She breathed deeply, trying to compose herself. "Look, it's time to quit playing around. Focus on Mercer, and focus on what it'll take to bring him down. It'll just be us three; there can't be any more."
"Any more for what?" Brynjolf queried suspiciously.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Please, come with me." Karliah started walking away from the Shadow Stone, and after sharing an unsure glance, Brynjolf and I began to follow. "We'll be going to a place called Nightingale Hall. Once we're inside, our preparations can begin." The walk was short, only about five minutes before we reached a secluded cave, well-hidden from anyone that didn't already know where it was. "Go on in, both of you. Take this as an honor; you're the first of the uninitiated to set foot in it in centuries."
I ducked inside first, moving through the pitch-black rocky hallway. Eventually, I came upon an open cavern with moonlight streaming through a hole in the ceiling. It looked a bit like a temple now that I could see it, but that didn't do anything to ease the apprehension I felt. It actually seemed to make it worse.
Brynjolf cleared his throat to get Karliah's attention. "What now? Is there some ritual to do?"
Karliah avoided the question, making me slightly more suspicious of her. "We'll get to that later. For now, I want you to look up ahead. Do you see those stones with the mark of the Nightingale? It's the great black bird with the circle above it."
"Yeah, I see them. What do we do with them?"
"Well, for starters, you can open them." She approached the large slate blocks and lifted the cover from one. "This is the first step to defeating Mercer. Clothe yourselves, and I will tell you what to do next."
I opened up the middle stone and stared into it quizzically. "There's nothing in here."
Karliah stepped aside to let Brynjolf have the stone she'd already taken the top off of. "There is. It looks like shadow, dark and empty. But trust me, put your hand inside it, and you'll understand." Still not entirely sure, I dipped my hand into the shadow, yanking it back when pressure enclosed my skin.
"What in Oblivion is this?" I screeched, shaking my hand and looking at it. A fitted black gauntlet had emerged onto me, the material harder and yet more supple than any I'd ever worn before. "What's going on?"
"Put your hand back in, Russet. Allow yourself to be clothed in the shadows." She moved to the final stone and placed her hand in without hesitation. I watched in astonishment as armor crept up her body, coming into being as shadows danced on her arm.
Swallowing my trepidation, I returned my hand to the stone, shivering at the sensation of the armor forming onto my body. It began with my right arm, then my left, followed by the feet, up the legs, my chest, and finally, a hood over my head. The armor was molded to my body, a set without flaw. No human hands could have created armor as I wore now, midnight-black that moved with me yet remained hard as steel to the touch. "This is amazing," I murmured in awe, admiring the unknown material covering my form.
"Aye, it is." Brynjolf stepped up next to me, his face obscured by a black mask over his mouth and shadows hiding his eyes. The Nightingale symbol on his armor had an almost indiscernible green tint, and I compared it to mine and Karliah's. The color of her mark was a dark blue while mine had the most noticeable tone, a dark red- I suppose you could say russet- color.
"Well, what now?"
"Follow me." The Dunmer woman waved her hand for us to follow. Almost immediately, Brynjolf tapped my shoulder and lowered his mask.
"This is enough to make your head spin, isn't it, lass?" he commented, scratching at his red stubble before replacing the mask.
"I suppose so." I found it easier to speak to him, knowing that he couldn't see my face and me not being able to see his.
Karliah slowed down and gestured to a moonlit cavern ahead of us. "Beyond this gate is the first step to becoming a Nightingale," she began, but Brynjolf cut her off before she could continue.
"Whoa, hold on. I appreciate the armor, but becoming a Nightingale? That was never discussed." I couldn't help but agree with his protestation, and my suspicion of the Dark Elf grew even more.
Karliah replied with a matter-of-fact tone. "To hold any hope of defeating Mercer, we must have Nocturnal at our backs. If she's to accept you as one of her own, an arrangement must be struck."
"What if I don't want to become a Nightingale? You never told us any of this. Is all of it a trick? Are you trying to sacrifice us to Nocturnal?!"
Karliah's voice gained a hard edge. "We must have Nocturnal with us, or I have no doubt Mercer will succeed. Do not consider this a sacrifice; consider it an honor and a blessing."
Brynjolf and I looked at each other, then back to the impatient Karliah. "What sort of arrangement? We need to know the terms."
"The terms are quite simple, Brynjolf. Nocturnal will allow you to become a Nightingale and use both the shadow armor and Agent Abilities for whatever you wish."
"Nocturnal is a Daedric Prince. No Prince would ever give something for nothing, not even Meridia or Azura."
Karliah shook her head almost violently. "Don't invoke the names of other Princes in Nightingale Hall!" she reprimanded, her voice softening after a few seconds. "You're right, though. Nocturnal won't give these to you for free. If you agree and Nocturnal takes you in, then in both life and death, you must serve as a guardian of the Twilight Sepulcher." Nightingale Hall fell silent.
"...There's always a catch, isn't there?" Brynjolf sounded more reluctant than accepting but went along anyhow. "At this point, I suppose there isn't much to lose. If it means the end of Mercer Frey, you can count me in." His agreement took me by surprise, and I nearly started spitting insults at him for so carelessly agreeing to sell his soul to a Daedric Prince. My words died on my tongue as I realized his point.
He and I were no honorable warriors. There was no chance we'd be going to Sovngarde to sit at the table of Shor. We could either allow our souls to fade into the Void or remain as warriors under Nocturnal.
"It's our last hope, isn't it?" Karliah urged, and Brynjolf nodded along with her.
"Lass, it's either this or nothing... although if I'm not mistaken, you have another plan for the afterlife, don't you?"
I bared my teeth in anger before remembering Brynjolf couldn't see my face. Instead, I pushed him backward. "You shut your goddamn mouth." A few heartbeats passed while I remained frozen, staring at Brynjolf with an aggressive stance. Eventually, I relaxed and realized there was no point denying Karliah's request. I faced her again and dipped my head grudgingly. "I'll do what I have to do," I muttered unenthusiastically.
"Good. After I open the gate and we enter, each of you step on one of the side circles. We'll speak again when the Oath is complete." Karliah walked through the moonlit cavern, Brynjolf and I trailing behind like loyal hounds. The bridge-like formation was odd, to be sure, but still held a strange beauty.
Karliah took the middle circle while I took the one on the western side. Brynjolf stood on the easternmost circle and waited along with me for Karliah to begin the ritual. It didn't take long for the Dunmer, as once she saw Brynjolf and I had taken our places, she knelt to the ground and lifted her hands in acclaim to the darkness.
"I call upon you, Lady Nocturnal, Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow!" she cried out. "Hear my voice!" For a few seconds, nothing happened, feeding my doubts about the plan. As soon as I considered raising attention to my concern, a massive dark glow formulated in the middle of the bridge. It seemed to draw in all light, and I found myself strangely entranced by the voice emanating from the orb.
"Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I'd hear from you again. Lose something, did we?" Although the voice sounded pleasant, I had no doubt Nocturnal was less than pleased with her Nightingale. I took a page from Brynjolf's book and averted my eyes, looking instead at the sloshing water below the bridge.
"My Lady," Karliah prayed, "I've come before you to throw myself upon your mercy and accept responsibility for my failure." She bowed so low her head touched the gray stones at our feet.
"You're already mine, Karliah. Your terms were struck long ago," Nocturnal's sphere purred mockingly. "What could you possibly offer me now?"
"I have two others that are willing to transact the Oath, to serve you in both life and death." I swallowed nervously as I sensed Nocturnal's focus placed upon me. A noise I could almost liken to a chuckle came from the dark light.
"You surprise me, Karliah," the Daedric Prince said lightly, even though she didn't sound surprised at all. "This offer is definitely weighted in my favor." Karliah's head tipped up, and I imagined her trying to meet Nocturnal's nonexistent gaze.
"Our appetite for Mercer's demise exceeds our craving for wealth, Your Grace." Karliah continued to plead with the Daedric Prince and reached out her hand. Nocturnal's orb drew closer to the Dunmer, silent until it was no more than a foot away.
"Revenge?" Nocturnal chortled condescendingly. "How interesting." She quieted down for several minutes, and while I grew impatient, I didn't make a sound. "Very well, Karliah. Your conditions are acceptable; we will proceed." The globe backed away from us. "I name your companions Nightingales and restore your status to the same." Her tone unexpectedly became dangerous as she once more approached the Dark Elf. "And in the future, I suggest you refrain from disappointing me again." The evanescent light shimmered and vanished with a rough wind that nearly threw me into the ghastly water below.
I stared down at myself, expecting to feel something now that I'd become a slave to Nocturnal's will. Contrary to my expectations, I felt just the same as always, if not a little tired. We all descended from our circles down to the main floor, and though Karliah didn't hesitate to speak, she didn't sound happy about it.
"So," she began, "as you heard from Nocturnal, you two are officially Nightingales. It's rather strange, as the Nightingale Order has never had more than three official members at a time."
"Does Frey even count anymore?" I queried, genuinely curious.
"Well, I- I'm not sure," Karliah admitted. "But I think it's time to tell you about his true crime and reveal the final piece of the puzzle now that you've transacted the Oath." It was apparent she was both eager and reluctant to open up.
"Why am I not surprised he's done more?" I muttered. "Is it why we all had to become Nightingales to-"
"What I want to know is how Mercer could unlock the vault." Brynjolf's interruption brought a scowl to my face.
"Your questions have the same answer. Mercer was able to unlock the Guild's vault and a wealth of abilities placing him above the average man's skill because of what he stole from the Twilight Sepulcher." Karliah paused, at this point seemingly for dramatic effect. "The Skeleton Key." The name ringing a bell, I racked my brain for the answer.
"The Skeleton Key... wasn't there something about the Skeleton Key in the Third Era?"
"Indeed. Since the beginning of recorded history, the Skeleton Key has made appearances and has been held by many mortal hands. It never stays in one person's possession for too long. However, it wasn't until about two centuries ago that the Key found its rightful place in the Twilight Sepulcher. It was not only able to create a sort of 'bridge' to Nocturnal and her Plane of Oblivion, the Evergloam, but its connection gave it abilities only available to holders of the Key. There's also the possibility that the Skeleton Key always possessed these abilities but were only unlocked upon its return to the Twilight Sepulcher."
"Thanks for the history lesson, Karliah, but don't we have more pressing matters?" Brynjolf reminded us, getting us back on track. "Now, what has Mercer done by stealing the Skeleton Key?"
Karliah pulled her hood down, and Brynjolf and I soon followed. The Dark Elf's eyes were thick with worry and a hint of fear, if I wasn't mistaken. "By doing this, he's compromised our ties to Nocturnal and, in essence, caused our luck to run dry." Her voice wavered while her words came out strained. "As I believe is obvious, the Skeleton Key isn't a normal key. It can open any lock whatsoever with no effort, and-"
"That's it!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers as it occurred to me. "Is the Skeleton Key blue?"
Karliah stared at me in astonishment. "Well, yes, it is. Have you seen it?"
"Yes- I mean, kind of. When Mercer and I went through Snow Veil Sanctum, I recall several doors being locked with no way through them, such as the main entrance and a dragon claw puzzle door, easily opened by Frey. He boasted about them having 'weaknesses' and him being so smart he had the skills to open them." I rolled my eyes at the memory. "I'm not surprised he was just blowing hot air."
"Neither am I, but opening worldly doors is the least of what it can do, Russet. It has the ability to bypass not only physical barriers but also metaphysical barriers within creation." As Brynjolf and I stared with matched confusion at Karliah, she continued to elaborate. "All of us possess untapped abilities, the potential to wield great power. Not many manage to achieve enlightenment to the point of unlocking these powers, but with the Key, it's all too simple to access these traits. With it, the potential becomes limitless."
"It would mean limitless wealth for the Guild," Brynjolf piped up, his voice betraying his growing excitement. "Once we reclaim the Key from Mercer, we could use it to make back all the money he stole and more. We could begin another Golden Era for the Guild."
I kicked his boot. "That's not an option. Weren't you listening? Nocturnal said the Key's absence made our luck run dry. The Guild will only suffer."
Relief relaxed some of the tension in Karliah's body. "Thank goodness, you understand. This is far more than just Mercer's lust for power. If the Skeleton Key isn't returned to its lock in the Twilight Sepulcher, things will never be the same for the Guild." Her tension returned just as swiftly as it had disappeared. "As time passed, whether over a decade or a century, our luck would diminish to the point of nonexistence. Whether you know it or not, our uncanny luck defines our trade."
"Like a man turning to face you when you reach his pocket," I said, "or a novice picking an impossible lock."
"Exactly!" Karliah exclaimed.
"So we need to take back the Key and give it to Nocturnal?" Brynjolf clarified, wiping at the condensation that had collected onto his armor.
"Well, this marks the first time I've ever had to return something," I mentioned without a hint of humor.
Brynjolf eyed me strangely for a moment. "In our line of work, it's quite rare we set out to return a stolen item to its rightful owner."
Karliah cleared her throat to attract our attention. "It's time we get going," she announced. "I'll be waiting by the exit. Don't take too long." She strode away, leaving me alone with Brynjolf. I would have followed, but his strong hand on my shoulder prevented me from walking out.
"Get off me." I shoved him away, only now noticing the heavy bags under his eyes. So I'm not the only one losing sleep.
"Please listen to me, lass," Brynjolf implored. "I spoke with Karliah. Due to your steadfast loyalty to the Guild and hard work in both mundane and imperative assignments, you've proven yourself time and time again."
"Thank you for the compliments, but we should go." Despite my words, I remained rooted to the ground.
"This isn't something that can wait. When we get back to the Guild-"
"If," I corrected him morbidly. "If we ever get back."
Brynjolf looked as though he didn't know whether or not to be amused or morose. "Always a ray of sunshine, aren't you, lass?"
"You know me, spreading laughter and cheer wherever I go... oh, wait, it's slaughter and fear. Eh, close enough." I was rewarded with a genuine chuckle from the Nord before he continued.
"Anyways, Karliah and I both agreed that you should take up the role of Guildmaster when we take care of Mercer. It'll be quite a long process, and a large part of it is a vote back in the Guild, but I don't doubt you'll fit right in."
I crossed my arms and spoke with suspicion. "Is this your way of trying to pull forgiveness from me?"
"No, lass. This is the honest truth. By my honor, what I'm asking you-"
"Brynjolf, part of why I find it hard to believe you're not doing this to earn 'friendship points' or whatever is because I'm the last person who'd be right for the position. You, Vex, Delvin, any of you would be better as the leader. I haven't even been around for a full year."
"Vex was never interested in the amount of responsibility the position of Guildmaster requires, and Delvin enjoys simply handling jobs and treasures for the Guild. As for me, well..." He stared off toward the cavern. "I've stolen trinkets from nobles and framed priests for murder. I'm very good at what I do, maybe even one of the best, but I'm not one for leadership. I've seen you on jobs and heard from your partners about how you take the lead without fear. You instinctively take charge, and that's something we all can admire."
"Brynjolf..." I rubbed my tired eyes. "I don't want to discuss this. I don't think you'll convince me you're not doing this to get back into my good graces, either." I pressed my finger to his lips to prevent him from replying. "Let's start with this: we kill Mercer and return the Key. We can rebuild the Thieves Guild, including discussing appointing a new Guildmaster when Frey is dead." My hand dropped back to my side, and I twisted to adjust my sword's sheath on my belt. "But we can't dawdle. The plans say exactly where the Eyes are, and Mercer is likely already on his way. I turned on my heel, making my cape billow out behind me. "Let's go. We hold the future of the Guild in our hands, and I'll be damned if I let it fall."
