Busy weeks behind me and busy weeks ahead, but at least I got a friend in xTRESTWHOx and NaanContributor.

7th of Evening Star

"You know, it seems pretty obvious in hindsight," Ruby said as she took in the sight of a weathered, white dragon with chipped and worn spikes, teeth, and tattered wings. "All the signs were there. The name, the timeline, the memories… You're a dragon."

"Indeed. I am as Our Father made me. I had expected you to be more…surprised, Dovahkiin. Though, I am not disappointed that our first meeting shall be one of drem ahrk mindoraan…peace and understanding."

"I was, just…" Ruby shrugged. "Well, if this is our first meeting…we should be giving each other a feel of our voices now that we've greeted?"

"Ah, so it's seems I am not the first of the Dov you have peacefully spoken with."

"No, Vulgahrotru was. Um, now that I think about it, he's the only other one." Ruby felt a tinge of disappointment that she hadn't spoken with very many dragons in a peaceful setting.

"So, the thief flies again? Ah, I should wish to speak with him. But first, let us engage tinvaak before I imagine speaking with others." He reared up his head and took a deep breath. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um! Feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are Dovahkiin! Yol Toor Shul!"

Fire leaped from the dragon's mouth and bathed Ruby in its warmth. Like before, the flames did not harm her, but these were even more powerful and controlled than those of Vulgahrotru. The warmth sank into her clothes without consuming them, enveloping her body like a summer wind as it passed her by. When it ended, she stood exactly as she had before, feeling the power of the old dragon in front of her.

"Yol Toor Shul!" she answered in kind. The flames from her own mouth managed to cover Paarthurnax's head and spread around his frame, reaching the very tip of his tail before her breath gave out. Steam rose from off of him, but the dragon himself gently closed his eyes and seemed to bask in it all.

"Ah, yes! Sossedov los mul. The Dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with my own kind." Paarthurnax then turned and leaped up before flapping over to the old wall, where he landed and perched on one side of it. Ruby followed him over and found that the wall was guarding against some of the cold winds that flowed against the top of the mountain peak.

"So, you have made your way here, to me," the dragon began after they settled in place. "No easy task for a joor…mortal. Even one of Dovah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

"Well, for starters, I need to know about the shout that defeats Alduin: Dragonrend. Can you teach it to me?" Ruby asked, getting straight to the point. Paarthurnax took her request with nod.

"Ah, I had expected such. Prodah." Ruby blinked at the word for prophecy, part of her realizing just how long he might have waited for this very moment. "You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old Dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."

"I would've come to talk… If I had time… and knew more. There's a lot I didn't know. Argneir and the Greybeards didn't want me to come at all until it was inevitable."

"Hmm, yes. They are very protective of me. Bahlaan fahdonne," he hummed appreciatively. "But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me. Your kind – jorre – mortals – created it as a weapon against the Dov…the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even…comprehend its concepts."

"You mean you can't even know it?" At Paarthurnax's nod, Ruby hung her head. "Well, how am I supposed to learn it, then?"

"Drem. All in good time. First, a question for you: why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

"Because…I need to stop Alduin," Ruby answered, figuring it should have been obvious.

"Yes. Alduin...Zeymah. The elder brother. Gifted, grasping, and troublesome, as is so often the case with firstborn. But why? Why must you stop Alduin?"

"I…" Ruby's mind seemed to swirl around in her head. It was obvious, wasn't it? Alduin was the bad guy. She was the hero who had to stop him. For a moment, she almost forgot why they were fighting him in the first place. Then the memories came back up. Of finding a couple burned to a crisp. Of the people fleeing the destruction. Of burning fields and refugees. Her hands tightened and she looked back up.

"Because of the people he's hurting, the lives he's destroying. Because I won't let him destroy this world."

"Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass. Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"

"I can't save the next world," she answered immediately. "I can only help this one. When the time comes, the next kalpa will have its own saviors."

"Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus... Maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world. Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end... Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end, may delay it. Those who work to delay the end, may bring it closer." Ruby contemplated his words, imagining a balanced interplay akin to the prominent yin-yang symbols. The imagery made sense to her, and the dragon's words reminded the young Dragonborn of stories she grew up with. How people would learn of the terrible fate that awaited them and how their attempts to avoid said fate only brought it closer to them. It was funny how such concepts seemed to transcend universal boundaries.

"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis," he apologized, breaking Ruby from her thoughts. "Now I will answer your question. Mm, do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven – what you name Throat of the World?"

Ruby looked around at the mountain's peak, even stepping away from the wall to get a glimpse of the land of Skyrim far below them.

"Well, it's a nice mountain," Ruby admitted as she kept her eyes focused on the tundra below. "And dragons like mountains, right?"

"True. But few now remember that this was the very spot where Alduin was defeated by the ancient Tongues. Vahrukt unslaad... Perhaps none but me now remember how he was defeated."

Ruby looked again in awe at their surroundings. As she took in the fact that this was where that world-decisive battle had taken place all those millennia ago. Suddenly the desolate landscape held a new meaning for her, and she felt the magnitude of that victorious moment so long ago weighing down on her.

"Wow!" she muttered. "So this is where they beat him with the Dragonrend Shout?"

"Yes, and no. Viik nuz ni kron. Alduin was not truly defeated, either. If he was, you would not be here today, seeking to…defeat him. The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time."

"Wait, you're saying the ancient Nords sent him forward in time?" Ruby asked, bewildered yet not all that surprised to hear that time travel was apparently a thing on Nirn. She mentally filed that fact away, figuring that Weiss would be interested in that field someday.

"Not intentionally." Paarthurnax shook his head."Some hoped he would be gone forever, forever lost. Meyye. I knew better. Tiid bo amativ. Time flows ever onward. One day he would surface. Which is why I have lived here. For thousands of mortal years, I have waited. I knew where he would emerge but not when. When the day finally came, we engaged in lot grah. Great battle. In the end, his Thu'um overpowered my own. I…managed to escape him, in the end."

'That explains some of the broken spikes,' Ruby thought, noting how a lot of Paarthurnax's wear seemed more recent and sudden. Time wouldn't have caused them to be cracked off like that, and even then, they would've slowly grown back. "I've heard of Elder Scrolls before," she said as she tried to remember what she could about them. "What exactly are they?"

"Hmm. How to explain in your tongue? The Dov have words for things that joorre do not. It is...an artifact from outside time. It does not exist, but it has always existed. Rah wahlaan. They are...hmm...fragments of creation. The Kelle...Elder Scrolls, as you name them, they have often been used for prophecy. Yes, your prophecy comes from an Elder Scroll. But this is only a small part of their power. Zofaas suleyk."

"Okay, but how will that help?" Ruby asked while tilting her head. Although she found this conversation fascinating, she needed to know more about how to accomplish her goal.

Paarthurnax licked his teeth as he thought on how best to answer Ruby's question. "Tiid krent. Time was...shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here...to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound... With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to...cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

'Go back in time?' Ruby wondered, imagining all of the implications she could about taking such an action. 'Hopefully, it works more on Dragon Orb Zrules and not Return to the Future.'

"Would it have to be the same Elder Scroll? I know there are…a lot."

"Hm, yes. It would have to be the very same one to…resonate with the bond it created."

"Well, that might mean it's not the one Weiss and Yang talked about. Still, worth a shot. Do you know where it is?"

"Krosis. No. I know little of what has passed below in the long years I have lived here. You are likely better informed than I."

"Well that's just peaches," the girl grumbled. "I'll have to check with people. Maybe Argneir has some idea where to start. And then there's the College of Winterhold. If all else fails, Esbern might have an idea."

"Trust your instincts, Dovahkiin. Your blood will show you the way."

"Thanks, Paarthurnax." Ruby turned back to the mountain pass, preparing to walk towards it, only to stop. As she took her surroundings once more, she felt a sense of clarity come to mind, and so she turned back towards Paarthurnax. "…If you don't mind, though, I think I might wait up here a while before going. I'm waiting on someone else and…I think it might be good to talk to you and try to learn a bit from the Grandmaster."

"Ah," he laughed. "Very well. I will teach you what I can. I feel as though your Voice will need all the strength it can hold for the tasks ahead of you."

Blake's mission was simple in explanation but more complex in execution. First, there was Vald to worry about. She started looking into his debt to Maven due to him losing a Quill of Gemination somewhere in Lake Honrich, which Blake sent Deaku to find. After he went after it, however, she decided to distract the big man another way. With her Guild armor on, she got his attention and told him that Vex was wanting to speak with him and make amends for the past. That got him really excited, but when he realized he couldn't leave the place unguarded, Blake offered to watch over it while he was away. Given that she had technically worked for Mercer too, he decided that was good enough and left her with the key.

With that, she packed away the thieving armor and headed into the manor, searching nearly every nook and cranny she could find. After the first few minutes of finding nothing, she decided to steal some expensive-looking items for good measure, figuring there was no point in leaving them to gather dust when they could get her a fair amount of septims. That and, she had to admit, petty revenge for trying to kill her. It was only when she found an old note on a table that she was first clued in to there being more to the house than what first appeared. A more thorough check of all the wardrobes later, she found one with a false back panel like the one in the Ragged Flagon. The new path led her to a secret basement that opened to what appeared to be a closed-off portion of the sewers, complete with booby traps. Those included a floor of flame-spewing flagstones and a hallway of perpetually swinging pendulums, which she cursed to no end. Luckily, Backpack was small enough to slink along the corner under Blake's control and deactivate them from the other end.

Finally, she entered what looked like nothing more than a simple office with some papers, books, and an inkwell and quill set upon it, along with a bust with the words 'Grey Fox' inscribed on its base. She gathered up the important-looking papers for Brynjolf, then packed up the bust for good measure, pausing to look at a sword in a display case next to everything. It appeared to be made of malachite, yet was a cold blue and had a smoother blade. Taking a moment to liberate it, she put it with her other weapons after feeling the icy enchantment upon it.

After packing up what she could, she left Backpack both to continue scouring the place and to help her in breaking in later should the need arise. As she exited the mansion, she couldn't help but feel accomplished. Even though she had essentially just robbed the place, it was also the home of someone who had attempted to murder her and had probably robbed countless people himself. Going by one note she happened to get a glance at, he even robbed the Imperial Army, straight from their armory no less.

While she was lost in thought, Vald came back from the town's center and stomped towards her, an angry scowl on his face.

"You lying harlot!" he yelled while brandishing a mace, stopping Blake right in her tracks. "I just humiliated myself in front of the whole Flagon! You just wanted to rob Mercer's house!"

Between the need for self-defense and the fact that there was a voice whispering about how good of an idea it was to just kill him, Blake was all but ready to strike him down before he could even bring his mace to hit her, with just a sliver of her mind trying to think of a way to non-lethally stop him. That sliver was enough to stay her hand, although she did grasp the hilt of Gambol Shroud in a threatening display.

"Put it away, Vald," another woman's voice commanded. The two turned their heads to see Mjoll the Lioness coming from the nearby alleyway. "Or are you planning to fight the Shadowkiller and Thane of the Rift all by yourself?"

"Shadow- Thane?" The man looked at Blake again, now with quite a bit of fear and reverence. "I, uh-"

"I'm going now," Blake announced before brushing past him. A moment later, Mjoll started walking after her, both of the women leaving him behind. There was a long silence between the two of them, with Mjoll seeming content with it while Blake felt awkward. When the silence finally became unbearable, and as they neared the main street, Blake looked at the woman and cleared her throat to speak.

"Thanks for that. I, uh-"

"You broke into Mercer Frey's house," Mjoll stated, causing Blake to stop. Mjoll stopped as well, turning to stare into Blake's eyes. "I try to keep an eye on that place and the man who owns it, but almost nothing happens there. Until today, when someone wearing Thieves Guild armor snuck in after distracting the guard. That was you, and it's gotten me to wondering."

Blake gulped and looked away. "Yeah, well, it's…complicated."

"I know he's the Guild Master," Mjoll stated evenly, causing Blake to sigh. "Which makes it all the more strange. What were you after in there?"

Blake thought for a moment on how best to respond. From what she knew of her, Mjoll was an honorable warrior who exemplified everything a Nord woman was supposed to be. Strong, courageous, dedicated. There was a reason why she was called 'the Lioness'. In the end, Blake didn't know her enough to trust Mjoll with the finer details. But, at the very least, she could clue her in.

"Sorry, Mjoll," she apologized to the Nord woman. "If I could explain, I would. Let's just say that after this…Mercer's probably going to be gone for a long time."

"Well, that will be no loss for us," she concluded with a nod. "You know, I never did thank you for helping me get out of that dragon's clutches. I was thrashed around, so I don't quite remember how, but I think you threw your sword at its face."

"Yeah, Gambol Shroud has an Aura-Reactive Super-elastic Tether." Seeing the baffled look on Mjoll's face, Blake realized that might not mean much to the Tamrielic woman. She coughed, then added, "Uh, it's enchanted."

"Right... In any case, may I help you to a drink? It's the least I can do," Mjoll offered. Blake thought it over for a moment, mentally tallying how much time she had, then nodded.

"Thank you. I could use a good drink."

"How did he get you out of there? He doesn't exactly look like a fighter," Blake asked while nursing a bottle of mulled wine outside the Bee and the Barb.

"I managed to get myself out of the ruin before falling unconscious, and then he found me. I owe him my life for that, but you'd think he was the one who owed me," she said with a smile. Blake nodded at that, then saw the Nordic woman looking up at the sun's position. "Ah, I should get going. It was good speaking with you, Thane Blake."

"Good to talk with you, too. We'll have to do this again sometime." As Mjoll went back towards the city center, Blake looked around the area before walking into the graveyard and heading towards the crypt with the secret entrance. Down in the cistern, she was about to find Brynjolf and report her success when Deakutuactyl sprang up from the side, a towel on his head.

"Found it!" he called out while holding up a quill. Blake, eyeing the towel and wondering just where the Argonian got it, took the quill in hand and felt the enchantment within it. While she couldn't place it herself, if Maven was to be believed, then it would allow anyone with the proper ink to copy anyone else's handwriting perfectly.

'Yeah, she's not getting this.'

"Thanks, Deaku. I'll get you a reward for this after I've talked with Brynjolf," she said while pocketing the item.

"You're not gonna take it to Maven?" he asked.

"No. I've got other ideas for it," she admitted. Deaku nodded at that, then turned and walked away. Blake watched him go, then looked over to Brynjolf. He was poring himself over a large collection of reports, journals, travel logs and more. All to find Mercer Frey, she imagined. Steeling her gaze, Blake walked over to him, the man only looking up at her when she was right before him. He stared at Blake then sighed, looking back down at the papers on his desk.

"We've scoured the town, and I've spoken to every contact we have left," he begrudgingly admitted. "No sign of Mercer. It's as though he just vanished off the face of Nirn. Any luck on your end?"

"He wasn't at his house or anything, but I found a good few things." Blake took out all the documents she found and laid them on a blank space on the table. Brynjolf started flipping through them, speedreading most of the notes but stopping on what looked like a drawn-out map of a building. He studied it for a moment, reading through the scribbled notes along the crinkled paper, then gasped as his eyes widened with realization.

"Shor's beard!" he exclaimed. "He's going after the Eyes of the Falmer?"

"The what?" Blake asked.

"The Eyes of the Falmer. They're a pair of gemstones said to be about the size of your head. Their existence was discovered centuries ago, in old Dwarven texts, and adventurers and thieves had been looking for their true location ever since. Some for glory, some for fame, and others for wealth, as the Eyes were said to be priceless. In fact, the Eyes were Gallus' pet project. If Mercer gets his hands on them, you can be certain he'll be gone for good and set up for life."

"Then we've got to stop him," Blake declared with a firm nod.

"Agreed. He's taken everything the Guild has left, and to go after one of the last greatest heists is just an insult." The man stood up and looked over the page one more time before folding it and placing it in his pocket, his look of frustration replaced by focused anger. "I've spoken to Karliah and made amends for how the Guild's treated her. Now she wishes to speak with both of us." He walked around and towards the center of the room, where Karliah seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

'Where did she-?' Blake wondered as both her and Brynjolf walked towards her, the Dark Elf interrupting Blake's thoughts when they got close enough.

"Brynjolf, the time has come to decide Mercer's fate. Until a new Guild Master is chosen, the decision falls to you."

"Aye, lass," he agreed with a solemn voice, "and I've come to a decision. Mercer Frey tried to kill both of you. He betrayed the Guild, murdered Gallus, and made us question our future. He needs to die."

"We have to be very careful, Brynjolf," she warned him. "Mercer is a Nightingale, an Agent of Nocturnal."

Brynjolf looked at her with a focused expression then placed a hand on his hip while rubbing the other along the back of his head. "Then it's all true… Everything I heard in the stories… The Nightingales, their allegiance to Nocturnal and the Twilight Sepulcher."

"Yes, that's why we need to prepare ourselves and meet Mercer on equal footing." Whispering to where only they could possibly hear, she continued. "Just outside of Riften, beyond the southeast gate is a small path cut up the mountainside. At the end of that path is a clearing and an old standing stone. I'd ask you both to meet me there."

Blake and Brynjolf met eyes for a moment, then the Faunus looked back at her and nodded while the Nord gave a quiet, "Aye."

As Blake walked up into the clearing that seemed almost hidden from view of the outside world, she spied a large, black stone with that same Nightingale sigil etched onto its face near the top. She wondered what sort of rock was such a pure black before looking around herself.

"So, what's here?" she asked, turning towards Karliah.

"This is the headquarters of the Nightingales, cut into the mountainside by the first of our kind," Karliah answered. "We've come to seek the edge we need to defeat Mercer Frey."

"What kind of edge is that?" Blake asked, wondering if it had anything to do with how he managed to have Aura apparently long before they even showed up.

"If you'll follow me, I'll try to explain on the way." With that, the Dunmer headed towards a door just as a stone slid open to reveal it. Brynjolf and the Faunus both followed her through it, finding it to be a cave-like entrance.

"So, this is Nightingale Hall," Brynjolf observed. "I heard of this place when I joined the Guild, but I never believed it existed."

"The assumption that the Nightingales were just a myth was seeded within the Guild on purpose. It helped divert attention from our true nature." She looked back at them, and Blake could almost swear she saw the ghost of a smirk at the corner of Karliah's lips. "What's wrong, Brynjolf? I can almost hear your brow furrowing."

"I'm trying to understand why I'm here, lass. I'm no priest, and I'm certainly not religious. Why pick me?"

"I could almost ask the same from that angle," Blake added.

"This isn't about religion. It's business."

They turned another corner and the cave gave way to stone structure, braziers lit by magical means coming to life as they entered.

"This is Nightingale Hall. You're the first of the uninitiated to set foot in over a century. Now, if you'll both proceed to the armory to don your Nightingale Armor, we can begin the Oath."

"Oath?" Blake asked as they came up to a bridge near a waterfall. Karliah continued to lead them into a room where three banners and three almost cube-shaped stones awaited, each with the sigil upon them. "What Oath?"

"Don't worry. I'll explain before we enter. For now, we need the armor."

Blake looked towards the stone in the center while Brynjolf took up the right, just opposite of the one Karliah was at. The Dunmer touched the left stone, then shadows seemed to wisp up and around her, solidifying into a sleek black armor and cloak that appeared to be leather, yet gave off a magical vibe that Blake could sense from where she was standing. Karliah turned towards them, and Blake saw that her face was obscured by a veil. Even what little should have been visible was completely hidden under the shadow her hood cast. Not even Blake's night vision could pierce it. All she could see was a pair of star-like lights where her eyes were. Hooking her cloak together was an ebony Nightingale crest embedded into the armor's chest.

Brynjolf looked at the stone closest to him and reached out for it, a similar process happening to him, giving him a nearly identical set of armor. The man looked at his hands, seemingly in awe, before looking back up to Blake.

"Well, it's safe." Even his voice was disguised, rendered unrecognizable by a subtle reverberation.

Blake looked at the center stone and took a deep breath before reaching out and touching it. The shadows leaped from its face and wrapped around her arms like dark wisps of mist before sinking in and setting down on her. Instantly, Blake felt a difference in how she stood. Her hands felt more precise and dexterous, her body felt warmed and filled with energy, her legs felt stronger and lighter, and her senses seemed to grow more acute as both Brynjolf and Karliah lit up in blue light before it dimmed down. Just beyond the room, she could see lights in the shape of small fish where the stream was, as well as a few spider shapes on the wall.

"This is enough to make yer head spin, eh?" the man asked her as Karliah walked out of the room and towards another, indicating for them to follow her. The two went after her, stopping with her in a hall with rows of braziers on either side of them, each set on stone pedestals that were gradually raised higher than the last until they were above everyone's head.

"Okay, lass, we've got these getups on. Now what?"

"Beyond this gate is the first step in becoming a Nightingale," Karliah explained as she indicated a gate further down.

"Whoa there, lass. I appreciate the armor, but becoming a Nightingale? That was never discussed."

"I figured that's where this was leading," Blake said as she crossed her arms. "That's what the Oath is about. You want us to swear ourselves to her or something." Of course, the Ebony Blade made itself known to Blake then, calling for recompense for her being nearly led into the arms of a Daedra. She distracted herself from that thought with its inherent irony.

"To hold any hope of defeating Mercer, we must have Nocturnal at our backs, Karliah explained to them. "If she's to accept you as one of her own, an agreement must be struck."

"What sort of arrangement?" Brynjolf pressed. "I need to know the terms."

"The terms are quite simple. Nocturnal will allow you to become a Nightingale and use your abilities for whatever you wish. And in return, both in life and in death, you must serve as a guardian of the Twilight Sepulcher."

"Aye, there's always a catch," he groaned. "But at this point, I suppose there isn't much to lose."

"Wait, in death?" Blake tried to clarify. "You're telling me I should sell my soul…for a powerup to beat one man?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Brynjolf reconsidered.

"No, I… Look, there isn't another way to beat him. Not as we are. You may think you stand a chance, but what Mercer has done is far more than just Aura."

"How much more? You still haven't explained that to us."

"…No, I haven't, have I? There is still one thing I can't tell you about, but I suppose I could tell you what it's done. Mercer has…unlocked an assortment of abilities and skills… No, I suppose it would be more apt to say that he's unlocked all of them. You mentioned that Aura is like unlocking the soul, I believe." At Blake's nod, she continued. "Well, Mercer has unlocked his soul, his body, and his mind. He is at the very peak of what he can possibly be, and maybe even more."

"You make it sound like he's turned himself into some sort of god," Brynjolf commented.

"Not a god. Just nearly the most a mortal could possibly be. The only respite is that by unnaturally bringing himself to such a level, he doesn't truly understand what he can do. But what he does is enough. We need Nocturnal's help."

Blake considered it for a moment before looking back at the gate ahead of them.

"Well, if it means the end of Mercer Frey, you can count me in," Brynjolf said. "Didn't have any better ideas for my soul, anyway."

"Well, I do," Blake stated evenly. "I actually have friends and family I want to spend eternity with after I die, especially after learning that there really is an afterlife So, here's the deal; I'm going to go in there, and Nocturnal and I will negotiate my terms. If I don't like what she offers, I will walk out of it and just go as I am."

Karliah sighed. "Very well. I suppose I can't stop you. I'll open the gate then. Stand in one of the circles, and I'll begin the ceremony. …I suppose that's when you may try to strike your own agreement."

Karliah led them in, opening the gate to a large, cavernous room where a small bridge led to a dais surrounded by calm waters, and three more bridges leading from it to a trio of higher, narrow pedestals. At the center of the large one the Nightingale sigil was carved into a raised stone, and it was emblazoned on each of the pedestals as well. Blake took her place at the left one, and then readied herself for whatever came next.

"I call upon you Lady Nocturnal, Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow, hear my voice!"

A blue light centered upon a small, nearly white point appeared, casting its hue everywhere.

"Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I'd hear from you again. Lose something, did we?"

Blake was more than a little surprised at Nocturnal's…less than sophisticated manner of speaking. She had expected something more akin to what she had heard from Azura, or how Ruby described Meridia or one of the Magne-Ge. Then again, perhaps the patron of thieves talking closer to how Sanguine spoke to mortals made sense.

"My Lady, I've come before you to throw myself at your mercy and accept responsibility for my failure." Karliah, however, the actual thief, was speaking to her like a noble.

"You're already mine, Karliah. Your terms were struck long ago. What could you possibly offer me now?"

"I have brought one wholly ready to transact the Oath; to serve you both in life and death. And another…who wishes to bargain."

"You surprise me, Karliah. Even with the one bargaining, this is weighted in my favor." Blake felt as though focus shifted onto her. "Yes, she was speaking of you, wasn't she? Very well, I shall hear what you have to say."

"I just want one thing clear; I'm not giving you my soul."

"Well, I suppose this isn't too surprising. You're not the first who wasn't willing to part with it. Though I should tell you, I had no plans beyond your spirit occasionally guarding my Sepulcher. Mm, still, it doesn't matter. I could not take you in death even if you offered it."

"You…couldn't?" Blake was rather surprised to hear that.

"No. There is already a higher, tighter claim upon you. One I do not wish to challenge. Your spirit belongs to them."

Blake felt as though the world was crashing down on her and a weight was growing upon her back. She tried to take a few steadying breaths, her mind going static as she did.

"Still, for my favor in life, I ask that you serve in life. And there is something you can do for me that none before have ever discovered. Share this with your fellow initiates here, and you may have all the benefits of a Nightingale until the day you die, whenever that may happen."

"I… Yes. I'll… I agree." Blake, numb to the world, accepted the Daedra's terms. Her mind shot back to the Ebony Blade still strapped to her back, and felt a cold chill run down her spine.

"Then the deal is struck. These conditions are acceptable, Karliah. You may all proceed."

"Lady Nocturnal, we accept your terms. We dedicate ourselves as both your avengers and your sentinels. We will honor our agreement…until your conditions have been met."

"Very well." Pillars of blue mist seemed to rise up around the three of them. "I name your initiates Nightingale, and I restore your status to the same, Karliah. And in the future, I suggest you refrain from disappointing me again."

Nocturnal and the lights disappeared, returning the room to its original hue. The three walked back towards the center, and Karliah looked towards the other two.

"Now that you transacted your Oaths, it's time to reveal the final piece of the puzzle to you; Mercer's true crime."

"You mean on top of the murdering and stealing from the Guild?" Brynjolf inquired, and Karliah nodded. Blake, still shocked to her core, turned towards Karliah in an attempt to distract herself.

"Mercer was able to unlock the Guild's vault without two keys because of what he stole from the Twilight Sepulcher: The Skeleton Key. By doing this, he's compromised our connection to Nocturnal, and, in essence, caused our luck to run dry."

"The Skeleton Key," Blake muttered. "So, it can open any door?"

"Well, yes. But the Key isn't only restricted to physical barriers. All of us possess untapped abilities. The potential to wield greatness, securely sealed within our minds. Once you realize the Key can access these traits, the potential becomes limitless."

"By the Nine! What has he unlocked?" the Nord wondered.

"I don't know what all he has found, but he must have made many discoveries in the past few years."

"Like Aura," Blake interjected. "Somehow, he unlocked his very soul. Something my friends and I weren't even sure people on Tamriel were capable of until very recently. Even then, no one could do it on their own. You'd have to have someone with unlocked Aura and knowledge of the ritual, and even they would've had to figure out the extra step for people of Nirn."

"People of Nirn?"

"Long story," she said to Brynjolf. "But now, at least, it makes sense."

"Why would he have tried to unlock his soul, though?"

"What else is there after you've gained a way to unlimited wealth?" Karliah proposed to him. "When you have everything you want in life, you either hate it or grow to want more. The only thing he could get more of is life itself."

"What, he wanted to become immortal? …Actually, I could see that. Greedy bastard." Brynjolf then paused and looked towards Blake. "Does this 'Aura' give immortality?"

"No, it's not a way to immortality, not as people think about it," Blake explained. "But it…could lead to more life. Aura…works like a shield. Protecting those who have it from harm. There's a limit to it, kind of like magicka, but it can be trained with to expand it and find new uses for it. It also strengthens the body, heals wounds, and enhances reflexes. It's…how I stole from you. I moved so fast you didn't actually see me."

"Wait, that's how… You have this Aura thing? Of course, you do. What am I saying?"

"More than that, I know how to unlock it." Blake looked towards the sigil that Nocturnal had appeared over. "I think she was insinuating that I do that, actually."

"You can actually unlock it in others?" Karliah asked in surprise. "Without the Skeleton Key?"

"Yes, but it'll take a lot out of me. Since we're not in any danger, however, it shouldn't do any harm." The word 'yet' went unsaid, but no less understood. Blake then turned to face the two thieves and suddenly gained a nervous expression. Luckily, the veil hid her face, but the two thieves seemed to sense it from her body language. "Um, okay, so, I have to…touch you and, um… Just a second." Blake took a deep breath and looked over at a suddenly nervous Brynjolf. "All right, just hold still."

Blake placed one hand on his temple and the other over his heart. The two were still as Karliah watched them, with Blake reaching out with her Aura in a directed manner, touching upon the familiar center point. A slight glow enveloped them both, shining above their dark armor.

"For it is from shadows that we descend upon the world. Through this, we become champions of liberty and justice who will stand up for all. Fearless in our steps and unburdened by hate. I unleash your soul, and by my voice, inspire thee."

Like Weiss had described, it took a redoubled effort, yet in the end, the light shone from the two, before going out around them. Brynjolf took a step back and looked at his hands, flexing them as though to get a feel for a new pair of gloves.

"Did it work?" Karliah asked.

"I- I'm not sure. How do we-"

Blake made a sudden jab at him, and the man blocked her with his arm at an unnatural speed, a navy-blue sheen covering his body where her fist struck. Karliah staggered back a step at the sight.

"What?" the Nord got out.

"I went fast enough that you should have barely been able to perceive it, but you saw it coming," Blake explained as she lowered her arms. She reached into her pocket – which she realized she could somehow access through her Nightingale Armor – and took out her Scroll before scanning Brynjolf and coming up with an Aura signal. "It worked."

"By the Nine… What all can I do?"

"We'll get there, but first, Karliah?"

"I… I'm ready," the Dunmer stated.

"All right. That took about thirty-eight percent of mine, so I can do it once more." Blake pocketed the scroll and took up the position again.

"For it is in the dark that we find our salvation. Through it, we become specters in the night and avengers for all. Righteous in our path and undaunted by danger. I release your soul, and by my shadow, shroud thee."

Once again, she had to press far harder than before in order to fully awaken the Aura deep within. As the purple glow faded from them, the Faunus had to stumble back and lean against the wall while taking several lungsful of air, and her Dunmer companion looked about herself in amazement.

"This is… I can truly feel it. There's strength running through me like I've never felt before, not with any spell or potion."

"Are you all right, lass?" Brynjolf asked Blake as he checked on her.

"I'm fine," she assured him while still taking deep breaths. "Like I said, it took a lot out of me. I probably have only a quarter of my Aura's full strength right now. In a moment, I'll go over some basics with you guys. We can get more in-depth while we go after Mercer."

"Yes, well, there's one last piece of business we have to go over before we go after Mercer. The leadership of the Guild."

"Okay? Why tell me?"

"I've been thinking over this a while now. Thanks to your efforts, Mercer's treachery has been exposed. After we deal with him, all that remains is restoring the Guild to its full strength."

"Wait, hold on. You're not suggesting what I think you are?" she stopped him.

"Look," Brynjolf said, raising his hands. "Everyone in the Guild admires what you've done. Maybe they won't come out and simply tell you, but I promise you it's true. And-"

"Brynjolf, no! Look at me." Blake reached up and pulled the hood and veil back from her face. "Do you remember why I joined the Guild?"

For a moment, the Nord stood still, then his gaze shifted away from her.

"The Dark Brotherhood."

"Exactly. I'm sorry, Brynjolf, but my business with the Guild was always just business. In the end, I was always going to leave it all once I was sure my friends and I were safe. And I'm not a leader, not for such a large organization."

"Yes, but…I'm no real leader myself. I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best, but I've never been one to lead."

"You won't have to. At least, not alone. We'll figure something out, when we have time. Right now, we've got some bigger fish to fry."

"Right you are, there. I've been poring over the plans you brought us, and I'm convinced the Eyes of the Falmer are in the dwarven ruins at Irkngthand."

"Then that's where we'll be headed," Karliah put in. She reached up and ran her fingers along the edges of the crest, then the Nightingale Armor seemed to retract itself from her, until all that was left was a black leather vest, even the crest having disappeared. Brynjolf did the same with a bit of curiosity, and Blake followed, both of them getting similar results.

"Let's ready our horses then. We're heading up to Lake Yorgrim."

Yang flipped through the pages of one of Agmen's journals, letting the words she had read through several times already pass her gaze. It was one of the older ones, filled up years ago, but it was the most important as well, showing his thoughts at the very moment he left the Companions and sought out the Silver Hand.

The journals painted a vivid picture. Agmen had been a wide-eyed idealist who looked up to the Companions as heroes to emulate. He joined them with a fiery heart and rose up in renown quickly thanks to his talent. Unfortunately, things took a turn. Like Kodlak had described, he was asked to join the Circle, but the price of it was becoming a werewolf like the rest of them. There had been more members at that time, but neither the twins nor Aela were among them, meaning all of those names she was unfamiliar with were likely dead.

Later entries showed where he had tried to organize the Silver Hand before they began striking the Companions, but many had rushed ahead, leading to the conflict that lasted for years and years. He kept pushing his way up the ladder, until he finally had taken control of the group as much as any one person could. The meeting they were holding was meant to reorganize them completely, making them more effective while actually developing a strategy to remove the lycanthropic influence from the Companions with as little collateral damage as possible, with further, vaguer plans to bring back the Silver Hand to a respectable position and out of the bandit-like situation they had been stuck in since the Great War.

"After years of fear and hate, I no longer can be angry at them," one of his entries before her eyes read. "But I can't save them. Their souls are Hircine's. But maybe we can save others from his trap."

'Their souls are Hircine's,' she thought to herself before looking at the white ring on her finger. 'My soul.'

Upon arriving at Whiterun, Yang went straight to Breezehome and collapsed in the master bedroom, sprawling herself out over the mattress to stare at the ceiling above. For a stretch of time that simultaneously seemed like an eternity yet barely any time at all, she simply lied there, unmoving. A knock caught her attention and she looked across herself and the room to see Rumarin.

"The door was open," he started off. "Well, I saw you come back, but not even a hello for your friend?"

"Hey, Rumarin. Sorry, it's just…stuff." She plopped her head back and released a sigh.

"Yes, I'm sure stuff is involved. It looks like this particular stuff is bothering you, though."

"Yeah, a little. Sorry, but I don't think you'd be able to help."

"Oh, I absolutely wouldn't. But that's me. You have people whose entire position is all about helping people to fall back on. I'm just a useful elf that can summon swords and bows and use them to kill things."

The young woman nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to go talk to Kodlak soon, but…not right now."

"Well, I suppose I can't make you get up, then. Would you like anything in particular for supper? I was planning to raid your pantry again, but since you're here I might as well share the spoils."

"Meat."

"As easily done as said. I'll be downstairs trying to cook and avoid your tenant's glares. At least, I hope she's just glaring."

As the High Elf headed back down to the kitchen, Yang raised up a hand and looked at it. Her eyes focused in on her skin for a long moment, catching the contrast it held against her brown coat sleeve. Golden fur then sprouted up and claws came from her fingertips. She stared at the furry claw for a while as well before shifting it back and then letting her arm drop again.

In her mind, she remembered the dream she had just before accepting the beastblood, where Hircine had promised they would hunt together. She couldn't feel fear or apprehension right now. All she was feeling was a cold numbness as the reality of her current destination truly sank in.

Kodlak, like a lot of old men, tended to wake up very early. Having never really gotten any sleep, Yang managed to find him in the hours leading to dawn, hefting his hammer and making katas with it towards imaginary foes. Despite the chill of the sunless day, sweat had beaded along his brow and his breathing was deep and heavy. If Yang wasn't mistaken, it also sounded ragged.

"Kodlak," she called out quietly, catching his attention. The old Nord turned to look at her and gave a soft smile before lowering his hammer to his side.

"Yang, good to see you. The others told me about your success." The smile disappeared and was replaced by a sad frown. "So then, you fought Agmen. He's gone."

"Yeah, but he put up a good…" Yang stopped in her words, wondering if she could speak of someone known so personally like that after being the one to kill them. Kodlak seemed to understand Yang's intent, however. He closed his eyes and sighed regretfully.

"May he rest in Sovngarde, then. He may have caused us much harm these past years, but I still believe it was from good, if misguided intentions."

"You know, I'm not sure I would have agreed with you if this had been a few days ago." Yang pulled the main journal from her side and handed it to the man, who took it in hand and looked over its cover and first page. "Agmen's journal. He seemed to have brought all of them." She hefted around a pack full of similar notebooks, all from different ranges of time. "Ya'know, it seems like everyone has a journal."

"It's one of the first things the Priests of Akatosh teach people at a young age, 'record all your days, just as He records all of Time,'" Kodlak explained. As Yang took that in, he flipped over to the page where she recalled reading Agmen learning from the Circle their secret. "He truly was afraid of us," he muttered before closing it. "I shouldn't have pushed him."

"Hey, it's not your fault. He made his choice."

"Hm, I wasn't always so calm, Yang. As recent as ten years ago, I could still call myself hot-blooded. There were a lot of things said that could have been taken for quiet threats. Some of what was said was just outright threatening. We were so sure he'd join us in the end…" The man went quiet, letting out a deep breath as he looked up towards the coming daybreak.

"He was scared," she agreed. "But…he mostly just wanted the Companions…to be clean. He wanted the werewolves gone. He described us as 'unwitting bait in a trap set by Hircine'."

"A trap, heh? I suppose that's a way of hunting." He walked over to the porch and sat upon its edge. "Tell me Yang, do you feel trapped?"

"Not by you. Not by the Companions." She followed him over and sat on the steps nearby. "I was trapped when that werelion came out of nowhere and I let myself get bitten. I underestimated it, didn't set up my defenses right. I didn't even let that happen with the werebear, but I dropped my guard because I thought I had a handle on it." Yang let out a humorless laugh. "I was really considering taking up the offer of joining the Circle, too. I mean, I was on the fence, but I could've gone either way at that time. We had really only just learned about the whole afterlife-being-real thing, and I wasn't that deeply invested. Just thought I'd have plenty of time to figure it out later. Then…things just got way more real." She looked at her hands where the beast had bitten into them. "I didn't have much of a choice. It was the least worst option."

"I can understand. I wish I did a long time ago." A heavy silence descended over the two as they both contemplated the choices they'd both made, choices they both were coming to regret. Then, with his attention squarely on the horizon, Kodlak spoke again. "What if I told you, there may be a way?"

"A way? For what?"

"A cure, Yang. After years of searching, I think I've nearly found a way to cure ourselves."

At that, the blonde perked up. "Ho- Holy cow, you're serious? Really?"

"Yes, but I have to confirm a few things first," he admitted. "Still, I think I should discover it before spring finds its way to us."

"That's awesome! Just… Wow, you have no idea how much I needed that right now," Yang admitted, feeling a sense of relief flood her veins. Kodlak looked at her then smiled knowingly.

"I have some idea. My dreams, when I manage to have them, often have me looking towards Sovngarde, yet I fear that Shor would not take a beast as readily as a man."

"Hey, don't put yourself down," she tried to comfort him, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "You're a good man, Kodlak. And the least beastly werewolf I know, including myself."

"Thank you, Yang." Kodlak smiled, then turned his expression more serious. "I would appreciate you keeping it to yourself for now, though. Not everyone looks forward to ridding themselves of the beastblood."

"I know Aela wouldn't. I mean, if I'm right, then her mother and most of her family is probably waiting for her at the Hunting Grounds." She also figured that Aela would've wanted to rejoin Skjor, but didn't say anything for fear of opening up a relatively fresh wound. "Not sure about the twins, or Yngvarr for that matter, but I'm on-board. At least, for now. Might wanna wait for the whole dragon thing to calm down before I put away my claws."

"I can see that. Call me old-fashioned if you will, but I think I'd be more satisfied slaying one with Skyforged steel."

"Hey, I've done both. The novelty wears out pretty quick and you just want it done, trust me." The two lightly laughed at that as the sun peaked over the horizon and cast its rays upon the land.

Weiss flew over the water and banked up before landing, sending a flew splashes of water up into the air in her wake. Morning was coming soon and she was beginning to feel dead tired. As she changed back into her human form, she paused to look at one of the bone hawks that had sauntered down and landed on a gargoyle statue. The creature's plumage was a dark purple and black, and its head looked like a skull with blue, almost fluorescent eyes. It watched her walk by as though it was tame, which given all the details of the castle, they might well have been.

'Wonder if I'm allowed to feed them?' she thought to herself. If they were anything like the death hounds, then they were probably less like evil abominations and more of an ugly version of existing animals. Not for the first time, she wondered how well death hounds could get along with regular dogs.

After she walked through the foyer, trying to ignore the scattered vampires around her, Garan came up to meet her.

"So, it is done?" he asked, and Weiss stopped in her tracks and turned to face him.

"Yes, though when you said 'feral' I wasn't expecting actual animalistic actions like growling and crawling along the walls and ceilings." If she hadn't already become one of the scariest sorts of bogymen in this world, the way those vampires acted might have scared her half to death. They were more like something out of a thriller-horror than the sort of aristocratic macabre she had begun associating with vampires.

"Of course. We don't use these labels lightly. If you are targeting Vampire Lords looking to challenge our rule or mindless beasts, you will be informed of such." He smirked. "By the way, Lord Harkon wished to be informed when you returned."

"I'll let him know, thank you." Garan nodded with a hand to his chest as Weiss passed him by and made her way to Harkon's chambers. She happened to find him next to the fireplace in the atrium before his room, sitting on a cushioned seat and staring into the fire as it burned slowly. It would have almost seemed like a normal place to lounge if it wasn't for the bloodied device in the back of the room. His head turned and a false smile came across his lips.

"Ah, you are here. Good," he intoned.

"You wished to see me, my lord?"

"Yes, I did. When I told you I was grateful for my daughter's safe return, I told the truth. But I did not tell you everything."

"I suspected as much." Weiss didn't want to mention to what degree she suspected it, but there was no reason to hide the thin veneer of suspicion that showed.

"Good. Strong instincts and a cunning mind will serve you as well as blade, spell, or claw." His smile actually seemed genuine for a moment as he looked at Weiss with some sort of pride, though she felt as though it was closer to the pride one feels at having a well-trained dog. It disappeared, however, and was replaced by a serious gaze.

"As you know," he began, "vampires are powerful, but we have limits. Our great enemy is the sun, and until recently it's an enemy we've had no way to fight. For countless centuries I've searched for an answer to this problem. One day, I found an old prophecy written by a Moth Priest, those scholars that read the Elder Scrolls. The prophecy tells of a time in which vampires will gain power over the sun and will no longer fear its tyranny. I believe the secret to unraveling that prophecy is written in Serana's Elder Scroll."

'Control over the sun?' Weiss didn't think such a thing could be possible. At the same time, if there was even a little bit of a possibility, it could spell disaster for the world at large. Her mind ran through all of the potential outcomes she could fathom of such an act and began to see why Harkon might desire this end. While the sun didn't hurt her as much as it did before, it still made her weakened when compared to how she was indoors or at night. Wounds still healed slower and energy recovered sluggishly. Other vampires had it either worse or better. Gilly was a bit better off than her, but Crux was unable to let his skin be touched by midday sunlight or he would actually begin to burn. If Harkon actually found a way to get control of the sun…

"I have ordered the court to assemble," he told her, breaking her thoughts away to see a small, blue light in his fingertips. "I have a new task for us all to carry out, and that includes you. Come now, and hear my proclamation."

"Yes, my lord," she answered while bowing and backing away. The vampire king stood up and began heading towards the entrance, Weiss following him like a dutiful servant until he stopped at the balcony overseeing the main hall, where the vampires had begun amassing. For the first time since joining them, Weiss finally got a good look at how many they had overall. The single, massive room was packed full of vampires of all kinds, even a Senche Khajiit was among them. There were some who couldn't get in thanks to it already being filled and instead had to wait in the connecting hallways. Serana came up from the back, standing opposite of Weiss behind her father.

"Scions of the night! Hear my words!" he began his speech, quieting the bustle that had started up from the crowd. "The prophesied time is at last upon us. Soon we will claim dominion over the sun itself, and forge a new realm of eternal darkness. Now that I have reclaimed one of my Elder Scrolls, we must find a Moth Priest to read it.

"I have spread false rumors about the discovery of an Elder Scroll in Skyrim to lure a Moth Priest here. Now it is time to see if those efforts have borne fruit. Go forth, and search the land for rumors of a Moth Priest within our borders.

"Look to the cities. Speak to innkeepers, carriage drivers, anyone who would meet a traveler. Go now, and carry out this task. This is my command!"

As he finished speaking, several began heading straight for the door, eager to serve their lord's wishes. Others took flight as Vampire Lords to the windows high up rather than wait their turn at the door. Other, calmer and more collected vampires hurried off to begin planning and preparing before leaving the castle. Weiss felt a cold chill as she watched them go, wondering whether or not any of them might find the baited priest before something could be done about it. As Harkon retired back to his chambers, Serana walked over to Weiss' side.

"Hey, we need to talk."

Weiss took a deep gulp, looked back at Serana, and nodded.

Weiss took the journal in hand and flipped over to the page Serana had indicated.

"I'm not sure how accurate this is, but if it's true…" Serana drifted off as Weiss began to read.

I finally found out what happened to Nigel. While I won't be losing sleep over that monster's death, the way Harkon went about it has me fearing for us all. Doesn't he understand what Bal will do to him for this?

Either way, Natha seems more than glad her father is gone, though I think she still doesn't quite comprehend what has happened. She may be free from her father's grasp, but we're still under Molag Bal's and Harkon's rule. While Lord Bal is willing to let us live upon Nirn with little interference, Harkon holds dominion over this kingdom and everyone in it. And now, either one of them could take our very souls for themselves. While he hasn't completely lost himself, it's only a matter of time.

I understand now why Jarmack left us. He knew, maybe even saw it coming. He tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen, and now I have no idea where that elf is. He'll be hiding, obviously. There are few places in Skyrim an elf can go without everyone planning to murder him, and we never found him in any of them. I doubt he'd take me in after everything, anyway. I have some ideas, but they'll take time.

"What's this about?" Weiss asked the vampire princess.

"If my mother's journal here is right," Serana pointed to the page, "then it explains why almost no one here is from my time, outside of Natha. Diablerie."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term," Weiss admitted, even though the term sounded instinctively sickening. "What is it?"

"In an old tongue, it means 'black magic', but when we're talking about vampires, it's far more sinister."

"More sinister than black magic?" Weiss cocked an eyebrow in clear disbelief, but Serana nodded.

"Yes. It was something of a curse within a curse, created by Boethiah to strike back at Molag Bal. To put it shortly, Diablerie is when a vampire completely consumes another vampire's blood and soul, taking all of the victim's power and making it their own. But…why would father do that?"

"To gain power? It certainly sounds like him," Weiss said before shivering at the thought of someone eating another person's soul.

"No, it doesn't make sense because committing Diablerie is a crime against Molag Bal. He sets aside the worst of all punishments and tortures for those who 'steal' a soul from him. Father knows that and is a worshipper of Bal. So why would he do something so…"

"Let's be honest here, your father probably doesn't believe he can ever be killed," Weiss cut in, "so he doesn't believe he'll ever need to face any sort of punishment. If he's really doing this though…it's all the more reason to leave now."

Serana looked at Weiss for a moment, then sighed and nodded in agreement. She then looked at her pointedly, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm guessing you're not on-board for the whole 'blotting the sun' plan?"

"You already know I'm not. I could never go along with something like this. Besides, if you gave me an hour, I couldn't list all the reasons it's a terrible idea, even for vampires."

"Yet, I bet we're going out to search for that Moth Priest."

"Yes, but not for the reasons… Wait, we?"

"Yes, 'we'. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get something."

Just as Weiss, Gilly, and Serana had finished packing and were on their way out, an altercation began. Weiss saw the man first, with a dagger raised high and running at the childlike Natha. She was about to scream her warning, but as the words left her mouth, the smaller vampire dodged, seeming to move like a blur as she did. Her childers reacted instantly, the Orc chopping off one of his hands and the Nord grabbing him by the head just as soon as he started screaming. While he tried to thrash his way loose, the man smashed his head against the wall, cracking his skull and leaving him to slide to the floor, leaving a trail of grey matter.

"What in Oblivion is going on here?" Vingalmo shouted as he entered the room.

"He just tried to kill me," Natha said while pointing out the corpse. "Luckily, my little ones came to my rescue."

"Th-th-that's the one she f-f-fed his own dog to," Gilly hesitantly got out. Weiss looked at the corpse's face and recognized it from those nights. She then recalled how confidently Natha had avoided his attack and how quickly her childers reacted to the situation. Some vampires didn't seem all too surprised about it, and Vingalmo already seemed to be moving past it and ordering a cleanup.

The three women slipped out, barely noticed now with such a gruesome scene to distract the crowd. A bone hawk swooped down nearby and Weiss reached into a pack to grab a piece of dried meat and throw to it. The creature grabbed the food and landed to begin eating it, and the three vampires continued on their way.

"So, I guess I need to check with the College of Winterhold," Ruby concluded while brushing away some snow. "Whoa! I think there's an ebony vein up here!"

"Yes, there are many metals revealed to the air-" A beeping started sounding out, interrupting the dragon's words. Ruby reached into her pocket and pulled out her scroll before answering.

"Hey Lydia. All good?"

"I'm almost at Whiterun. I just thought you should know." Lydia paused, then narrowed her eyes. "Is- Is that a dragon?"

Ruby looked up to see Paarthurnax looking down at the scroll in interest.

"Well, aren't you nosy," she teased him, getting a small look of confusion. "Yeah, this is Paarthurnax."

"The…Grandmaster of the Greybeards…is a dragon?"

"Yep. Paarthurnax, this is Lydia, my Housecarl."

"Drem Yol Lok, kendov," he greeted the Nord. "It seems joor have learned to build the long-distance speaking devices again."

"Again?" Ruby wondered aloud. "Oh yeah. Dwarves were mortals. Well, glad you made it around to-"

"Hey Ruby," Yang called out as she suddenly popped into Lydia's picture. "'Sup, Lyd," she then said to the woman she was pressed to the back of.

"Thane Yang. Glad to see you," Lydia got out.

"Hey, Yang. I got up to the peak. This is-" The scroll started ringing again, and Ruby swiped to reveal Weiss' face.

"Guys, big news. Bad news. We… Is that a dragon? Never mind. We've got trouble. Have any of you heard about a Moth Priest showing up in Skyrim?"

"What kinda priest?" Yang asked.

"The Moth Priests are the order dedicated to unraveling the secrets of the Elder Scrolls," Lydia explained. "They're based in Cyrodiil, but I haven't heard of any in Skyrim."

"Well, keep your ears open and ask around if anyone's seen one. Yang we'll need you to warn the Dawnguard. Dozens of dozens of vampires went out when Harkon made his announcement. They'll be combing the countryside looking for one."

"What's this guy need a- He wants one to read the Elder Scroll," Yang figured quickly. "Okay. So, we don't want that."

"No. Especially now that we have an idea of what's in there. It's apparently a prophecy of how vampires may gain control over the sun, and I don't think I need to explain how that's a terrible idea. We can't allow that to fall into their hands."

"Well, first thing is making sure they don't get this Moth Priest," Yang said while rubbing her chin. "Next, we should try to get the Elder Scroll out from under them."

"Done." Weiss angled her camera to show Serana, who was wearing the Scroll on her back. "Serana figured we ought to get that as far away from the castle as possible. She left a fake in its place, but I have no idea how long that'll last before they figure it out and come hunting for us."

"Wow. Looks like we're a step ahead. I'll keep an ear to the ground about the priest, then. What're you guys going to do?" Another beep sounded out, then Blake's face popped on screen. Before the Faunus could speak, her ears went up at the mix of faces she was seeing.

"Okay… Why is there a dragon?"

"He's my teacher, Blake, be nice. Guys, for those who don't know, this is Paarthurnax."

"Wait, how many good dragons does that make?"

"Uh, two?" Ruby figured. "I mean, you guys ran into some neutral dragons, so do those count? Eh, whatever. What's up, Blake?"

"Way too much. We've figured out where Mercer is headed. North of Lake Yorgrim."

"Sweet, I'll head there."

"Yang, no-"

"Yang yes! Look, last time you were around this guy you got a hole in your chest. I'm going to go up there, and I am going to kick his ass for what he did. And don't try to get ahead of me, 'cause I will sniff you down," she declared.

"I'm afraid to ask, so I won't," Serana commented.

"Oh, I wonder if that Scroll is the one we need for up here."

"Wait, what? What do you need an Elder Scroll for?" Weiss asked her partner.

"So I can use it at the broken spot in time and go to the past to learn Dragonrend. Paarthurnax said it has to be the specific one that made it in the first place, though. So it may or may not be the right one."

There was a long pause as everyone slowly processed what Ruby had just brazenly stated. They stared at her through the scroll, then Weiss sighed and slapped her forehead.

"Only you could be so nonchalant about something as potentially significant as time-travel..." Weiss muttered, then Yang shrugged and continued on as though nothing was wrong.

"Wasn't it buried a long time ago with Serana?" Yang double-checked.

"Yeah, good point. Guess I'll just double-check with the College anyway. Hey Serana, got any info on Elder Scrolls we could use?"

"I mean...I know about as much as anyone. Not a lot. You'd figure a couple hundred years locked away with one would have given me some insights, but no. Turns out you don't learn much from just sleeping with something."

"You can say that again," Yang mumbled.

"Ew," Ruby responded with a raspberry.

9th of Evening Star