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FALNAS

Trinity Restored

Riften Cemetery

Karliah was back where he'd left her, at the entrance to the mausoleum. She sat on a bench now, looking at the flowers on the graves, her fingers laced together between her knees. When she noticed Falnas approaching, she immediately got up and walked toward him.

"Honestly…" she said to him, "I was worried we'd never see you again."

He smiled broadly at her. "It was a little tense at first, but she proved reasonable after all."

"Yes," she said grimly. "The way she dealt with Maven and her household was nothing if not reasonable."

She had a point. He'd been apprehensive of the Dragonborn at first, then gotten to like her for the boisterous battleaxe she was, but the aftermath of their operation had left a very bad taste in his mouth. He wondered if she was even completely sane. "I think… you just don't want to get on her bad side," he said, keeping it diplomatic.

"Who was that other girl with you? The Nord?"

Heh, figured she'd ask about that. It was a more pleasant subject at least. "That was Mruki. One of Maven's servants. Maven, uh… left her the Orphanage. By proxy."

"Yes," Karliah said, looking away. "How benevolent of the woman that just slaughtered her mistress and half her fellow workers."

"Let's just put this behind us," Falnas said, daring to put his arms around her. "The Guild's out of immediate danger, now we can get back to the more pleasant concern of making money."

"About that," Karliah said, not resisting his embrace. Falnas felt his heart beat a little faster. "I sent Vex out to do some high-level pickpocketing. There's a hoity-toity wedding in Solitude in a few days. No doubt she'll bring back some valuables."

"It's a start," Falnas nodded. Her hair smelled of lavender soap.

"In the meantime, I have something important to tell you."

His heart began beating even faster when she looked up at him with her eyes, with their irises of iridescent purple. He was about to kiss her, when she said, "It's about the Guild," but her smile was warm and understanding. Falnas didn't know whether to be encouraged or disappointed.

"Oh. Sure, what is it?"

"Go get Brynjolf and make sure you both pack some food. We're taking a little trip, but we won't be gone for long. Don't tell anyone but Brynjolf, it's… well, secret."

"Ooh," he joked, "cloak and dagger stuff."

She smiled and said, "I'll meet you at the entrance to the Flagon, then we'll take our secret tunnel outside."

Brynjolf looked so bored one would think he was in the temple of Jyggalag, so he was all too happy to close his ledger and pack something to eat. Together, they met Karliah at the exit of the Flagon, and a few dark tunnels and a ladder later, they were outside the city.

Karliah pointed at a shape sticking out between the trees and the morning fog. "See that old Standing Stone there?"

"Mm. No stars shine on the doomstone."

"It doesn't matter. That's where we're headed."

Brynjolf and Falnas followed her, trekking through the grove surrounding the stone. It was only a fifteen minutes' walk, and from there, Karliah led them deeper into the woods until they found themselves at the foot of a low cliff, only twice as tall as Karliah.

"Nice rock face," Brynjolf said with a grin. "Any gold to mine here? Because I prefer stealing it, takes less effort."

With a mysterious smile, Karliah said, "No, Brynjolf. No gold. Something far, far more valuable."

"Diamonds?"

Also amused, Falnas said to Brynjolf, "Knock it off, you greedy ponce."

"I'm a thief," Brynjolf defended himself, acting wounded. "It's in my blood."

"Speaking of thieves," Falnas pointed out, "We were suckers for letting Mercer clean out the vault. I mean, of course he'd steal, he was the leader of the Thieves Guild."

Brynjolf shook his head. "You haven't been with us long enough to know all the subtle rules of the Guild, but one of says that you never, ever steal from your fellow guild members, or from the Guild itself. It's… comparable to blasphemy."

"Huh," Falnas said. "Seems a bit illogical to me."

"It is what it is," Brynjolf simply said.

"I wish people would stop using that stupid phrase."

"Come on." Karliah extended her hand towards the rock face, and to Falnas' and Brynjolf's surprise, her hand went in to the wrist. After briefly struggling with his senses, Falnas realized this was the best-woven Illusion magicka he'd ever seen. "No earthly treasures, Brynjolf," Karliah said. "But I'm taking you to meet someone. And I promise, it's not just anyone."

It wouldn't be. Most Illusion spells didn't stand up to close scrutiny, and they certainly couldn't be held in such a state for a long time. Whoever was responsible for this was a spell weaver of inhuman skill and power.

"Alright," Brynjolf said, the grin wiped off his face. "Now you've got me curious."

"Follow me."

They passed through the uncannily realistic illusion, stepping into the cave beyond it. Karliah lit a torch, providing some illumination, then led the way.

"There haven't been people here in years," she explained. "The last time, I was the junior of the three."

"With Gallus, right?" Brynjolf asked flatly, not dodging the subject.

"With Gallus. He led us through these caves. When we emerged, we were a trinity. I, Gallus, and Mercer."

"Then came the betrayal," Falnas said.

He saw Karliah's head nod as she walked. "Mercer was jealous. Jealous of something, though we never knew what. Of Gallus' position as leader. Of the relationship I had with Gallus and not with him. Or maybe he just wanted the Guild for himself. Who can say."

"I don't know which is worse," Brynjolf grunted. "Murdering a fellow Guild member, or blaming it on someone innocent."

"Gallus' murder," Karliah said bluntly. "Definitely. I was alive and could exonerate myself. Gallus never had the chance. Never had any chance of anything anymore."

Falnas cleared his throat, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere more pleasant. And, he had to admit, to take Karliah's mind of her lost lover. Somewhat selfishly, perhaps, but life was not about inaction. "So I assume we're here for the same thing?"

She nodded again. "Never thought we'd need two more people, and I definitely never thought I would be leading them, but yes. It'll become clear in time. I'd rather not tell you what's about to happen. I… prefer to let someone else do it for me."

For a brief moment, Falnas felt himself grow apprehensive. She was acting very mysterious now, and doubt took hold of him, very shortly, but still very much there. After all, they only had a translated journal as proof, and that wasn't very reliable since they couldn't read the original. All the rest had been simply taking Karliah at her word. Surely this wouldn't all be some elaborate trap…

He felt guilty as soon as he thought it.

The cave widened and they stood in a hallway. The floor continued forward, but where the cave walls had been, was now a deep emptiness. The ledge went on to the middle of the hall, leading to a round stone platform that it split into three more narrow stone bridges, each leading to a smaller stone platform. What in Oblivion was this place?

"I uh… need both of you to stand on one platform each." Sheepishly, she added, "Sorry, that wasn't very dramatic. Gallus was better at creating atmosphere."

"So uh," Brynjolf asked. "Who did you want us to meet? There's no one here."

Falnas had to agree. The room was utterly empty. "You're not going to transform into a monster, are you?"

"Stand on the platform and you'll see," Karliah said, amused at their lack of understanding. She already stood on one of the pedestals.

After exchanging glances, Brynjolf and Falnas stepped over the narrow stone bridges that led to their positions.

"Good," Karliah said when everyone was ready. "The uh… the someone you're about to meet is on our side, but, well… I really, strongly suggest for you to be on your very, very best behaviour."

Brynjolf snorted. "Come on. It's not like it's going to be the Emperor, is it?"

Falnas saw the twinkle in Karliah's eyes all the way from the other side of the room. "Oh no."

Without another word, Karliah pushed the top of her torch against the stone at her feet, extinguishing it.

The cave was dark and silent. After a few seconds, Brynjolf's voice rang out, "Is this going to be one of those 'tap once for yes, twice for no' things?"

Falnas grinned in the dark as Karliah told him to shut up for once in his life.

More silence and darkness, until pale light began to shine in the centre of the cave, lighting it up in a sort of gaseous, cloudy blue.

"Karliah," a voice said, sounding female, but clearly not human. Falnas didn't know who this was, but the voice, its very presence, filled him with awe he'd never felt before. "Finally decided to come crawling back?"

He saw Karliah's form kneel in the blue light. "For… forgive me, my mistress," she stammered, clearly surprised by the unfriendly greeting. "I wish to set right what – "

"Yes, yes," the voice answered, haughty, aloof and completely full of itself. "It took you long enough. What have you been doing all these years? I must say that despite his betrayal, Mercer has been by far the least inept of this sorry Guild of yours."

"I don't – "

"Meanwhile, my Key is still in the wrong hands, being used by the unworthy. Although, I must admit, I'm considering letting Mercer keep it, since he's using it for the greatest larceny of all. You know of what I speak."

"He… he would steal the – "

"He would."

"Figures," Karliah said to no one in particular. "He wants this final victory over Gallus."

Who in Oblivion did this voice belong to? It wasn't some hedge wizard, not some clever illusion. Power radiated from the voice, he felt it in his very core. It was smug, arrogant, insufferably so, but Falnas knew, felt, that it had every reason to be.

"If you wish to stop him," the voice scolded Karliah further, "you will have to show me a bit more competence than you have so far."

Karliah looked tiny, still kneeling. She clearly hadn't expected this punitive reprimand. "I… will go to whatever lengths you require of me."

"Even knowing there's a good chance your path ends in your death?"

A short silence, then a quiet, "… even then."

"Very well. I see you brought two associates with you. I do hope they won't let themselves be embarrassed as easily as you, Karliah. Mercer certainly pulled your pants down these last years." A short silence, then Falnas knew the voice spoke to Brynjolf and him. "Now then, with the exception of your embarrassing gullibility when it came to Mercer's scheming, you both seem to have a firm head on your shoulders. Either of you will certainly be better Guild leaders than Karliah here."

Neither Falnas nor Brynjolf knew how to reply to that.

"The powers I grant will be great, tremendous even, but they will never surpass those I gave to Mercer when he stood where you stand. This power, once given, is never taken away… and neither is the debt my favoured owe me."

Falnas finally dared to speak. "It would… help if we knew exactly in whose debt we'd be putting ourselves… With all due respect."

"Really?" the voice said with a short, irritated laugh. "You haven't told them who they were meeting? You're going to have me suffer the indignity of introducing myself?" A short silence, and then, as if the voice was a parent scolding a naughty child, condescending but affectionate, "Karliah." The tone betrayed that this entity had been giving Karliah a ribbing more than actually rebuking her.

The voice spoke again to Beynjolf and Falnas. "I am known as the Night Mistress, the Mistress of Shadows, the Unknowable, the Empress of Murk, the Daughter of Twilight, the Lady of Luck. All titles, most of them flattering, but bestowed by your kind. The simplest and most accurate name for me is simply… Nocturnal."

Falnas' heart felt like it briefly stopped, and then started again. Nocturnal, the Nocturnal, the Daedric Prince, the unknowable, unfathomable Goddess, patron of thieves, burglars, grave robbers, shadow operatives, and everyone who used secrecy, guile and darkness to achieve their goals. Falnas had never been a Daedra-worshipping man, but by the Tribunal, he was having a conversation with a Daedra Prince. That would make any man a believer.

Without a word, Brynjolf fell to one knee, his head bowed.

"Oh please," the voice laughed. "You're thieves, not priests. Show some backbone and stand up straight."

It only took a single second for Brynjolf to comply. Karliah, too, stood, but slowly and disheartened.

"Now that I've suffered the opprobrium of making my own introduction, we can move onto matters at hand. Karliah, you bring these two for the initiation, I assume?"

"I do, my Lady."

"Have you told them the terms and conditions?" the voice asked imperiously, already knowing this wasn't true. "No, of course not," Nocturnal made a show of correcting herself. "If you haven't even shown me the courtesy of introduction… You two, you have heard of the Nightingales, yes?"

It was clear the goddess didn't need a response to that question. Falnas had heard the name mentioned once or twice, as a sort of 'secret society' among the Guild. He'd always laughed it off, assuming it to be some secret-handshake little boys' club with no real meaning, but now that he was actually speaking to Nocturnal, he realized it must have been much more than that.

"Karliah brought you here to restore the trinity. There are never more than three Nightingales. At the end of this day, there may be four. A situation that must be rectified."

"We will track down Mercer in your honour, my Lady," Brynjolf finally said, his voice hoarse and unstable.

"Do. He has taken my Artifact, and I would see it returned. I would have let him chase whatever things his greed drives him to, but for the use of my Key. Mortals thinking they can simply decide to use the Skeleton Key when they see fit… the affront."

The voice took a moment to feel indignant.

"Without the powers of the Nightingales, however, there will be no stopping Mercer. He is almost as comically inept as you, but he wears my shadows and wields my power. If you would have any chance of returning my Key and pleasing your Goddess, you will need to pledge yourselves to me."

For being so powerful, haughty and bothered to waste time with mortals, Nocturnal sure was taking her time getting to the point.

"Until my Key is returned, the Guild will enjoy no windfalls, and suffer ill fortune at every turn. You've already felt my disapproval. The… 'curse' on the Guild, as one of you put it?"

Vivec damn it, superstitious Delvin had been right after all.

"Even now, one of your number is feeling the effects. Not to worry," Nocturnal added with a chuckle, the blue light rippling, "it'll only cost her a few bumps and bruises."

"What would you require from us in return for the Nightingales' power, my Lady?" Falnas asked, slowly getting over the baffling realization that he was talking to a Daedra Prince.

"In exchange for the great powers of the Nightingale," the voice said, swollen with pride, "I demand nothing but eternal servitude. In this life… and the next."

Silence fell as the words sank in.

"Y… you mean…?" Brynjolf stammered hoarsely.

"Yes," the voice said, sounding bored. "You receive powers you will not believe, and in return, I will be taking your soul. To put it dramatically and in the most clichéd manner possible."

"What does that… mean specifically?" Falnas asked. He had no idea what happened to a soul if it was given to a Daedra Prince once its owner died.

"You wish me to divulge the secrets of the afterlife of mortals? How quaint."

Oh dear, the voice sounded insulted. That had been a bad move.

"I will tell you this, however," Nocturnal said, "There will be no Sovngarde for you, and no… whatever it is, for you. You will spend the hereafter in my servitude, but I assure you, I treat my servants well. And really… what better way to spend eternity with the darkest Lady, most beautiful of all the Daedra Princes?" And with sharp, completely honest bitterness, she added, "I'm sure Azura would disagree, but who cares about that exhibitionist bitch?"

None of the three thieves dared to reply.

"Now then," Nocturnal asked, her voice back to its snooty, arrogant poise. "Don't insult me by asking time to think about my generosity. Accept the gifts I offer, or be gone from my dark-lit visage."

In the corner of his eye, Falnas saw Brynjolf step forward, his fist on his heart. "I am… ready to receive your blessing, my Lady."

"I had expected nothing less," Nocturnal smirked. "The chances of you getting into Sovngarde are, to say the least, not very favourable anyway."

Falnas needed a moment to decide though. He'd never thought about what would happen in the next life, but spending it as a lap dog to this conceited, uppity black widow was… not very appealing. It felt like trading one pesky Maven for an even more demanding, immortal one, no matter how smoking hot she was reputed to be. Then again, he had no real family, no one for his spirit to watch over when he was gone. The only one he could see himself being with for the rest of his life was Karliah… and she was already a Nightingale, so he knew where she would go at the end.

Plus, it meant he could blaspheme about the Tribunal all he wanted without worrying about any spankings in the afterlife. Vivec's hairy, floppy cock-snatch, faint heart never won fair Karliah. He stepped forward and said, "I too accept your gift, my Lady."

A chuckle. "Yes, figured you would. For you, the eternity in my servitude will be even more bearable. Don't worry, I'll make sure not to let you out of each others' sights."

Karliah raised her head and her eyes quickly went to him and back again.

"Eyes closed, little mortals."

They did as they were told, and Falnas could feel the vapours slowly spiralling around his body.

"Make sure not to open them until I say so."

It would be best not to risk sneaking a peek, even though Falnas was, at the least, quite apprehensive about what was happening. It was as if countless immaterial fingers caressed him, first his lower legs, then upward, and everywhere they passed, they left some kind of material that hugged his body tightly, as if made exactly to measure and applied like velvet fingerpaint. He felt his entire body being wrapped in the fabric, or leather, or whatever it was, then belts were tightened, and finally the fingers brushed over the skin of his face, and his breath passed through a kind of permeable mask. Lastly, the fingers caressed his hair, and that too ended up wrapped in the strange material.

With a longing sigh, the fingers retreated.

"Open your eyes and feast them on the first of my great gifts."

Falnas did as he was told and looked down at himself. He was wearing perfectly-fitted leathers, or what looked like leathers, so jet black they seemed to absorb the light, intricately decorated with black-silver trim. The leather overlapped in long scales to provide the most protection it could while still remaining maximally mobile, and on the chest was the emblem of a raven, its wings spread upward towards a circle divided in four. His face was masked, and a hood lay over his head.

The material didn't feel like leather, more like a second skin. Whatever this was, it wasn't just whipped up in some tanner's shop.

Brynjolf was dressed the same, looking at his arms, turning them over to study the palms of the gloves. At his belt hung a sheath with a handle sticking out, and Falnas realized he had one too, a long dagger with an ebony hilt. Even bringing his hand near it made his skin prickle with its power.

"You are now Nightingales," the blue light announced, its voice swelling with pride. "Small side effects include enhanced vision in darkness, muffled steps, an inflated ego, and the feeling that something inside you is…" A chuckle. "Missing."

She was right. Something inside him was gone. It wasn't a feeling, not a physical thing, not any kind of warmth, just… something. Something he hadn't known was there until it was gone. Very briefly, a profound sense of loss came over him, but the next moment, it was gone and he was back to marvelling at the wonders of this armour.

"Do not dare to return until Mercer Frey lies dead and you have my Key. Karliah, despite your… lacking servitude thus far, I have kept your vestments safe. You know where to find them. You will wear them on this final task I send the three of you on. Make sure Mercer knows he does not defy Nocturnal without retribution. Being confronted by a new trinity of Nightingales will make sure he realizes his part in this story is at an end, and that his Mistress calls to him. I await the coming of his soul with great interest."

"Yes, my Lady."

"Go. No one provokes me with impunity."