As much as the Nightingale wanted to make his riding companion suffer some by taking him the long way to the Sepulcher, Bryn knew that the Bear of Markarth had an appointment with his Patron and did not wish to be at the receiving end of her ire if the ruler was tardy, no matter his personal feelings towards him. Through the mountains west of Riften the two men rode, past Orphan Rock, through the ruins of Helgen- the thief noticing the blonde staring at specific spot as they traveled among the destroyed buildings- and south of Lakeview Manor. Briefly, the ginger thought of checking on the homestead for Keri while in the area, but that could be done another time without the company. The unlikely pair travel south of Falkreath and take the right fork, and when they hit where the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary was rumored to be, turn left and head through the patches of trees.

Finally the silence is broken by the High King. "It's strange."

"What is?"

"Nothing coming out and attacking us." Taking the reins of his mount in one hand, Ulfric gestures around with the other. "No wolves, no bears, no trolls, not even a bandit. Nothing. It's almost as if our path was intentionally left clear."

A slight smile appears on the redhead's face. "The Lady provides for all of us in strange ways, even for someone like you, Stormcloak, unworthy as I think you are. But she can also take away if the whim takes her, especially in regards to those on the receiving end of her ire. Remember that." A few more minutes pass, then Brynjolf goes "Ah, we're here...if I followed Keri's notes in her journal correctly, that is. For all I know, I could be sending you into a den of vampires or werewolves. Maybe even into the hands of the Thalmor- I'm sure they'd love to get their hands on you still and pay a good price for it. Ever think about that?"

"Or kill the both of us, because why bother paying when they can take it for free?" To be honest, no, he didn't think about that. So focused was he in trying to find Inkeri again, the High King didn't think of the dangers of traveling alone, especially with someone who openly despised him and would have no qualms in ending his life. Galmar would have my head if he even learned of this folly... In the distance, Ulfric could see two lit braziers, one on either side of a doorway into the mountainside. At some point the clearing must have been beautiful, given by the remains of the stone pillars before the entrance, but now it was a bit plain. Maybe that's the idea, the blonde Nord thinks as he dismounts from his horse. "Where are we?"

"Twilight Sepulcher. The Pilgrim's Path."

"The what? Why are we here? Who are we supposedly meeting?"

"It was either here or a different location... And the person that desires to speak with you might have specified here- and I dare not question Her wants.. Besides, if the Keri made it through to the end alive and thereby proving herself worthy above all others, I'm sure you'll have no problems... after all, who would dare accomplish something the High King has not, hmm?" Brynjolf goes, opening the door and letting the other man step through first.

"Your confidence overwhelms me, thief," Ulfric growls out as he steps through, getting a little more than slightly bothered by the attacks on his character. Which are rather true, but that's besides the point. "I wouldn't be walking somewhere blind, alone save a criminal who has no qualms of pouring salt onto wounds that never healed and obviously has his own issues with his self-confidence if he's worried his Guild Master will leave him for a former lover, if I didn't want to find her."

"Wanting to and actually being able to do it are two very different things. Just remember that, if you somehow make it to the end, you're not a Jarl, you're not the High King- you're just a mortal man asking for help from someone that would have no problem wiping you from Tamriel without a thought."

Soldier and Rogue make their way through the rest of the lit tunnel in silence until they come to an expansive cavern, a staircase leading upwards to a large, closed door.

"Ah, I see why I was sent back..."

Two pairs of forest eyes turn towards the sound and see a shade of a man dressed in similar garb to what the living thief was wearing, the set of the ginger Nord widening slightly as he figures out who the ghost was.

"Gallus? The Lass said you moved on when she came to right Mercer's wrongs. What are you doing here?"

"You've certainly grown since the last time I saw you, Brynjolf. Our Lady decided that one of us should be present to make sure the outsider knew what would be expected of him."

"Upwards, thankfully, and not outwards. As the Lass likes to remind us when we try to get her to eat more: A fat thief is a caught and most likely dead thief. She certainly wants to make sure we are all happy and make it back from our jobs alive." A black covered hand holds up the beat up bag that the man in question had carried into the Bee and Barb earlier. "I think I have most of it covered, Guild Master," the redhead murmurs quietly, and, dare Ulfric think, almost respectfully.

"Ah, you did do the thing properly. The Lady's Champion did well in choosing you, despite all of your mistakes and flaws."

"Luck smiled favorably on me that day, I will admit... My current Guild Master is as wise as she is benevolent and forgiving. I do listen when she talks...most of the time I do as she recommends even..." Bryn gives the shade a wry smile, then turns towards Ulfric and holds the sack out to him, saying "Should be enough to get you through this if you're as smart as people claim. It's about what the Guild Master herself had when she walked the Path."

Rough hands take the canvas satchel and peers in it, seeing a piece of parchment, some lockpicks and two healing potions. "Talk about traveling light," the High King muses, pulling the paper free. He reads:

"Shadows of their former selves, sentinels of the dark. They wander ever more and deal swift death to defilers."

"Above all they stand, vigilance everlasting. Beholden to the murk yet contentious of the glow."

"Offer what She desires most, but reject the material. For her greatest want is that which cannot be seen, felt or carried."

"Direct and yet indirect. The path to salvation a route of cunning with fortune betraying the foolish."

"The journey is complete, the Empress's embrace awaits the fallen. Hesitate not if you wish to gift her your eternal devotion."

"Cryptic." Dark eyebrows furrow as Ulfric reads the parchment a second time. "These almost seem to be the ramblings of a madman."

"Madness doesn't always equate to being wrong, Lad. If interpreted properly, the ramblings of a madman can give wise advice." The living Nightingale's shoulders shrug noncommittally and he goes with a seemingly understanding look "If you want to give up and tuck your tail between your legs..."

"No." For Inkeri. No matter how scared. For her. Always for her. Nothing else matters, not anymore.

Both alive and dead thief watch as the man in blue takes a deep breath and walks up the stairs, passing through the door.

"Think he'll survive?"

"Personally? No. But..." The spirit looks at the shutting portal, a contemplative expression hidden behind his mask. "Even we who have passed on to the Evergloam aren't always privy to what Nocturnal plans on doing. I can only imagine, if he manages to make it through in relatively one piece, what sort of contract our Lady will put before him in order to get what she wants."

"I don't think the High King realizes just who he is dealing with, but he'll learn soon enough...they always do." I won't give Keri up, Stormcloak, no matter how sorry you are. It will be a cold day in Hammerfell before I step aside for someone like you, so be prepared to fight harder than you did for your Empire against the elves, harder than you did for your precious throne...

A/N: ...And how are you nothing like Mercer, Brynjolf, you covetous bastard.

The next chapter will be undergoing a heavy rewrite, mainly because I don't like how I've written it...that and I haven't finished it. Damned Daedra haven't given me any inspiration for it as of late.

Thanks for reading!