The Wings of the Nightingale

by ChazoreRTD

In the event of her mother's death, Zayari, a khajiit who was born into the Thieves' Guild, discovers that her mother was part of a secret inner circle of thieves known as the Nightingales, and that Zayari has been selected to take her place. In the midst of taking her new position, Zayari works toward discovering what truly happened to her mother.

Okay, so, it's been a good long while since I last wrote a serious piece of story, so please bear with me.

I hope you enjoy!

Prologue

It wasn't the rain that created the macabre mood, blanketing Riften in a coat of water. No, most people assume it's the rain. A lot of people enjoy rain, but not many consider it to be a good omen. But no, it wasn't the presence of rain that gave a gloomy atmosphere. It was the abnormal murk over the town from the stormclouds overhead, the occasional clash of lightning creating brief moments of sight for anyone outside.

The soft splashes from the footsteps of a barefoot khajiit could be heard from across the empty marketplace as this lone woman attempted to make her way to the wooden steps that led to the canal below. The canals sat on a level that was almost an entire street of its own below the rest of the town, and doors lined the boatway, leading to shops and... less reputable establishments. But the doorway this khajiit woman was looking to enter was first covered by a gate, which she hastily opened before then going to the door, pulling at the knocker to open, slipping behind the door and inside.

Another clash of thunder echoed outside as she leaned against the door, catching her breath before looking down and stroking a hand along the massive bulge that was her pregnant belly. Not much longer now. But she wasn't ready. She had to get to the guild. And so, she shoved herself off the door, and started making her way through the tunnels. Nasty, grimy tunnels. Hardly anyone had made an effort to clean the place, and when they did, it was usually a futile attempt. The Ratway was named aptly, given the frequent appearance of rats due to the constant smell of rot. It made the woman gag and cover her mouth and nose, ears folding back against her head in a defensive manner. But she pressed on, until she reached yet another door. She pulled this one open, and closed it behind her as she dropped her hand and took in another few breaths.

The Ragged Flagon was a tavern placed in the Ratway, home to many a brigand and criminal who made the Ratway and underbelly of Riften their home. The room itself was an extremely large dome, a pool of water resting in the middle, encircled by a stone walkway. The bar itself, as well as some surrounding tables lay on the opposite side of the pool from where the door was placed. Upon the closing of the door, the khajiit would start hurriedly moving around the circumference of the pool. She could already tell that the barkeep and a few others had their eyes on her. When she finally got over to the bar, she sat on a bar stool, took a deep breath, and said, "I need to speak with the Thieves' Guild."