.

Eye for an Eye

Not far from Irkngthand

"I mean, why even Nightingales, you know?" Brynjolf rambled on as Falnas simply listened with a grin. "Nightingales are, like, these birds that sing all the time. Tiny birds. Pretty, tiny birds. Completely unintimidating. And they sing. All the time. I mean, they're not quiet for a moment." He stopped walking and regarded Falnas with a completely mystified face. "I'm just… why would you name your chosen trio of thieves after a tiny, noisy bird?"

Falnas chuckled. "I'm guessing, same reason she made an infallible key and then wants it to remain unused in a pedestal."

"Yeah, but I mean, you can chalk that one up to 'moves in mysterious ways'. But the name is just… nonsensical."

Karliah stood a ways ahead, her hands in her sides, wondering why they'd stopped.

"I don't know, Brynjolf," Falnas laughed. "But go ahead and ask her next time we see her."

He looked away and scratched his beard. "Mm. Not such an appealing prospect."

"Thought so. Come on, Karliah's going to think we're plotting something."

Their companion insisted to scout ahead every so often and let them catch up, saying she wanted to take no chances with Mercer. Falnas didn't blame her.

"The boys are having fun?" Karliah asked as they joined her, her face half amused, half disapproving. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Don't ask," Falnas said, "He'll be rambling for hours."

"But it's true," Brynjolf went on. "Why on Nirn would you pick the name Nightingales?"

"He still on about that?" Karliah asked with a grin, her concern falling away.

Falnas nodded. "I think he'll probably keep talking about it in his sleep tonight."

"Assuming he doesn't spend the night tossing and turning from the horrible nightmares Nocturnal sends him for his irreverence."

Brynjolf's face went slack. "Do you… do you think she'd…?"

"For your constant blasphemy?" Karliah prodded him further, crossing her eyes and raising an eyebrow. "You're talking about a Daedra Prince here, not some uppity noble."

"But… I mean, I'm only trying to…"

Falnas could watch it no longer. "Brynjolf, for Vivec's sake, she's leading you on."

Karliah gave him a scolding look for being such a spoilsport.

"We have work to do, Karliah," Falnas told her with a grin. "We're almost there, right?"

"M-hm. Mercer's going to have eyes like saucers when he sees the three of us interrupting him in the middle of his eye-stealing."

They were close. They'd trekked northwest for a day, first heading for Windhelm, then following the river west, skirting a snowy mountain range and having their dinner of freshly-caught fish at its foot. It was close to midnight now, and with their bellies full of fish and their heads full of dreams of loot, glory and especially vengeance, they'd climbed the last slope to see Irkngthand lie below them, nestled against the mountain face, an eerily symmetrical and mathematical construction, like only the Dwemer had made them.

"Hey, but…" Brynjolf thought out loud as they stood looking down at the ruin. "What if Mercer opened the doors to the ruin and then used the Skeleton Key to lock them again?"

The realization sunk in with the others until Karliah simply said, "Shut up, Brynjolf."

They descended the mountainside, Falnas taking a brief moment to speak to Karliah in private. "Karliah…"

She smiled. "I know what you're about to say."

"You do?"

"Mm-hm. And you're right."

Wait, this didn't make sense?

"Hold on, right about what?"

She stopped walking and took his hands in hers. "I should move on. I loved Gallus deeply, but I know he wouldn't want me to be lonely."

Falnas' heart beat faster. "You… know that better than I possibly could. I… wanted to ask, if this was over, perhaps we could…" He was crazy nervous. It wasn't something he was used to.

But thankfully, Karliah smiled at him. "We should… start small. With a nice dinner or something. But yes, I'd… love to get to know you better?"

Dinner was a good start, and not in the Ragged Flagon. A decent dinner, with candlelight, good food and no sewer smell. Starting small was good. After all, they had all the time in the world. Or they would have after this was over. "I'm… really looking forward to it."

Her smile widened, making her even more beautiful. "So would I." Damn, he really was in love.

"You two done being smitten teenagers?"

Brynjolf stood waiting on the path ahead, his hands in his sides.

"No," Karliah said, giving Falnas a loving smile. "Not for a long time."

His heart thudded in his chest. He was so happy he wanted to run down to Brynjolf and plant a big fat kiss on his cheek. But he was right, business first. Once Mercer was dealt with, there would be plenty of time for stomach-residing butterflies. "We're with you, Brynjolf."

"Good," he said with a grim nod. "The butt of Mercer awaits our boot prints."

With these immortal words, they began their assault on Irkgnthand. Weapons drawn, Karliah and Falnas flanked the door while Brynjolf inspected the mechanism.

"Lock's still turned," he muttered, prompting a sigh of relief from the others. "No traps that I can see."

"Be careful though," Karliah advised. "He knows that the only ones who could come after him, are thieves as resourceful as him."

"I was thinking the same thing," Brynjolf grunted, running his hands over the edges of the door to feel for mechanisms or switches. "But it's clear as far as I can tell."

"Never once was a hero made by sitting outside the door," Falnas said. "Let's go."

Brynjolf nodded and gave the door a push, side-stepping as it opened to avoid any possible traps they might have missed.

The door opened with a quiet creak and struck the walls of the corridor with a modest bonk.

"So far, so good," Karliah said.

In they went, carefully tiptoeing through the creepy, deserted hallway of the Dwemer ruin. Everything in the place was angled. Straight. Measured.

"Trap," Karliah stopped them. "Over there. Pressure plate, see?"

Brynjolf kneeled by it. "It's been activated. Probably Mercer blundering into it."

Karliah let out a chortling laugh. "Yes, Mercer was always notoriously bad at avoiding traps. That, and refraining from shouting taunts in battle."

"Still, the mechanism might have reset. Step over it", Falnas said, "and we should be fine."

The continued their journey, into the bowels of the ruin. Perfectly symmetrical stairs led them downward, every step exactly the same height as the ones above and below it. The masonry had no seams, the stones set perfectly against each other. Cold gems, set in bronze-looking armatures, lit the hallways.

They descended another creepily equal staircase, then crept through an S-shaped corridor.

"Hold," Falnas said, raising his hand. "Another trap." He was rather proud of having spotted it before Karliah. It was a luminous gem, set in the wall at chest height, which shone an almost-invisible ray onto a tiny mirror on the other side of the corridor. He'd never seen such a trap, but with the Dwemer, you could always count on surprises. Doubtless something nasty would happen if the light was broken.

"Huh," Brynjolf remarked, the admiration clear in his voice. "Those nutty Dwemer."

"Mm. We should duck under it."

They did, Brynjolf going first, chuckling, "Those Dwemer are going to have to do better than that to – " He yelped as a clack sounded underfoot and a spike sprang up, driven straight through his foot. He lost balance, but thankfully didn't break the beam above him. He toppled to the ground, holding his ankle. "Aah!" he screamed. "What the… aaahh, damn it, that hurts!"

"Stay still," Karliah told him. "We'll be right there."

He rocked on his butt, holding his foot, blood running between his fingers.

"This wasn't the Dwemer. It was Mercer," Karliah snarled, ducking under the beam. "We should have known."

They really should have. "Rookie mistake," Falnas admitted. They'd found one trap and thought that was all. It was an error new kids made, not experienced thieves like them. They'd fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book: let them spot one trap so they stop looking and blunder into the next.

Karliah pulled the spike from Brynjolf's foot, provoking more angry growls, then took his boot off, applying some ointment on the wound, then bandaging it. The spike had been nasty, but it had passed clean between his metatarsals, doing only meat damage. Still, Brynjolf would be hobbling for a few more days after this, at least. Thankfully it hadn't been poisoned. Mercer must not have had the opportunity to bring any.

"You going to be alright?" Falnas asked.

Grunting, Brynjolf got to his feet, hopping on one leg. "I'm on to you," he murmured. "Trying to get rid of me so you can snuggle… in peace." He winced as he put his weight on his injured foot. At least he still had his sense of humour.

"Can you walk?" Karliah asked, supporting him.

"I think so, just… don't expect me to lead a charge of Stormcloaks before year's end."

"Let's go."

"Noise trap," Karliah pointed out, drawing their attention to the gossamer-thin wire hanging from the high ceiling, connected to a set of chimes almost invisible so high in the darkness.

"How'd he even get up there?" Falnas muttered, looking up at the chimes, hanging at least five metres up in the air.

"Mercer must… have a hidden climbing… talent," Brynjolf hissed, limping on.

Their journey was nerve-wracking, and progress slow, every step careful and deliberate, and only made after checking every inch of stone and air.

It was simply impossible to stay so concentrated on their surroundings for so long, but they tried nonetheless, knowing their lives depended on it.

Mercer wouldn't be far away now, but there was no point getting themselves killed trying to reach him faster. Chiselling out the Eyes would take a lot of time, and it'd be a ridiculous coincidence if he finished the job just before they caught him. The odds of that happening were –

Clack!

Falnas only had time to turn his face away and raise his arm in reflex as a yellow jet of flame blasted out from an opening between two stones.

The heat was blistering, but despite the fire and the surprise, he immediately dropped to the ground and rolled, putting the flames out. It hurt like Oblivion, but he knew that it was either that or let the flames devour him. Weight fell on top of him as Karliah and Brynjolf threw themselves onto him to help put out the flames.

When they were convinced the fire was out, they sat up on their knees. Karliah leaned forward, inspecting him for injuries. "Falnas, are you alright?"

He sat up on his ass and looked at his shoulder and arm. His cloak had partially burned away, but the Nightingale armour looked undamaged. He felt pain under it, the skin of his shoulder and upper arm burned from the heat, but Nocturnal's gift had kept the open flames back. "I'm… alright, I think."

"Sure?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just minor burns. If not for Nocturnal's armour…"

Brynjolf sat grinning at him. "Too bad she couldn't protect all of you, though."

He touched his face and skull and realized what he meant. His cheek and temple were seared from the heat, but his hair had suffered most, burnt to a stubble on the side of his head. "Aw, really?"

Karliah smiled. "It'll grow back."

"I heard shaving the side of your head is quite the rage," Brynjolf said with a wide grin. "We should colour it in some outlandish hue. Let's get you some heavy-rimmed eyeglasses to go with it."

Falnas chuckled as Karliah helped him up. "Piss off, Brynjolf."

"Seriously though," Karliah said, "this could have ended much worse. We can't get careless."

She was right. That was exactly what had happened. He'd started thinking about Mercer, his thoughts had started to form a chain, and his concentration had waned. Damn Dwemer ruins. Drop your attention for a gods-damned moment and you were ass-buggered, and scumbag Mercer's tampering only made it worse.

"Will you be alright?" Karliah asked once more, concerned.

"Don't worry, it's not bad." His face stung every time he spoke or moved, and the skin on his shoulder and arm felt like there was a cheese grater grinding against it. He'd punch the snot out of Mercer for that one even though the trap hadn't even been his.

The ruin took them deeper into the bowels of Nirn, and then led them upwards again, back in the direction of the surface. Their thighs burned as they ascended staircase after staircase, ever mindful of traps. Falnas felt sweat beading on his forehead because of the exertion and the burns. This shit didn't have to go on for much longer.

"Shh," Karliah hissed quietly, stopping them all in their tracks.

They kept quiet and listened, and Falnas could hear it too. A gentle, repetitive clinking sound. All three knew what it meant. It was a chisel carefully chipping stone away.

"Mercer," Karliah whispered. "He's trying to get the Eyes of the Falmer out of the statue. We're close. Masks and hoods off. I want him to see our faces."

They crept around the corner and looked out at a huge room, as high as it was wide, with water standing about two metres below them. They were on a ledge that simply ended, hanging over the half-flooded atrium. Above them was a ceiling, metres high, with the mouths of pipes hanging open, yawning downwards to cycle air in and out of the ruin.

And before them, half-submerged, was the statue of the Falmer, a massive stone effigy of a Snow Elf, sitting down with its legs crossed and proudly holding a torch. The statue was as high as seven men, at least. Perhaps more, depending on how deep the water was.

And there, hanging from the statue's eyelids, his foot resting on the thing's chin, was Mercer Frey, carefully chipping at the stone surrounding far and away the biggest gem Falnas had ever seen, a shiny egg twice the size of a man's head, cut to an otherworldly sheen. One gem was already removed, lying on the platform made by the book the statue was holding, gently placed there in a protective cushion of fur. The empty eye socket was carefully chipped away to a ghastly, open wound.

The figure of Mercer, hanging from the statue, slumped its shoulders and let its head droop in bothered annoyance. He hopped down in two deft bounds, landing on the book next to the already-freed gem.

"So, Karliah, you've followed me here," he spoke, the echo in the room so powerful it carried his voice with only little effort. "And you've brought two flunkies. Figured there'd be three of you. Poor Nocturnal, thinking I'm despairing at the sight." He paused, cocking his head. "Weren't you dead, ashface?"

Falnas only said back, "I got better."

"No matter," he said to them. "You're too late. One Eye's already free, and the other won't last much longer. Once they're out, you'll never see me again."

"So," Brynjolf shouted at him. "What's stopping us from killing you right here and taking the Skeleton Key and the Eyes?"

They saw Mercer's vile grin from all the way on the other side of the chamber. "I'll tell you what. See, this place has a back door." He stepped towards the arch in the back wall, near the statue's elbow. "I'm going to leave that way. I'll be back to recover the other Eye later. After you three," he raised his hand, "are just bodies floating in the water."

He slammed down his hand on a bronze button.

Falnas' reflexes were lightning quick, and he managed to dive under the portcullis that slammed down from the ceiling, trapping Brynjolf and Karliah on the ledge. Meanwhile, a stone door slowly grated open next to the button Mercer had pushed.

Falnas fell over the edge, and went down head over heels, splashing in the water, thankfully in a relatively deep spot. Falnas got his head above water in time to see Mercer running for the already-dislodged Eye of the Falmer.

"Mercer! Stop right there, you son of a bitch!" Falnas heard Brynjolf scream.

He swam for the statue as fast as he could, hoisting himself up as Mercer grunted in effort as he lifted up the heavy Eye of the Falmer.

'Go for the Eye, Falnas! Go for the Eye, raaargh!" Brynjolf roared.

Falnas heard a thundering vibration in the earth, and three of the four pipes in the ceiling began to hose out terrifying quantities of water.

He sprinted to Mercer, who moved more slowly, weighted down by the massive jewel, and threw himself at him, body-slamming into his one-time Guild leader and bowling him over. The Eye of the Falmer struck the stone with a hard bonk, striking chips off the statue.

A hard kick struck Falnas in the face and he felt his nose break. Another foot lashed out, this one kicking him in the temple, momentarily sapping his strength. He opened his eyes to see Mercer scoop up the jewel again.

An arrow whizzed overhead and flawlessly found the mechanism button next to the escape route. Mercer was stopped in his tracks as the stone door swung closed again, sparks flying from the button, which now hung in pieces from the copper wire it had been attached to.

"Yeah, Karliah!" Brynjolf cheered as Mercer, gnashing his teeth, took cover behind the statue's arm.

"Run!" Falnas shouted at them. "The water's rising!"

"Way back's blocked," Karliah yelled back, "we have to get through here."

Mercer briefly shot out of cover, and with a flawless throw, sent his dagger flying all the way to the other side of the room, Falnas' heart stopping as he saw it pass between the bars of the portcullis and striking Karliah. Falnas saw Karliah fall, her bow clattering to the ground, through the portcullis and into the water. "Karliah!"

"Only her shoulder," Brynjolf shouted back. "Get Mercer!"

The water was rising, the level now reaching the book Falnas stood on, slowly creeping up the slanted surface. They were all going to drown here if they found no way out. Karliah had stopped Mercer, but she might have damned them all in doing so.

"Help me with this mechanism," he heard Brynjolf yell at Karliah.

"You're not leaving here with the Eye or the Key, Mercer," Falnas threatened, unsheathing his short sword. It throbbed with power in his hand. With it, he might even stand a chance at taking on Mercer. He couldn't help Karliah now, all he could do was try to survive Mercer's deadly skill with a blade.

"Come and get me then, you worthless sack of shit," Mercer shouted back, emerging from his cover. "I'm getting out of here, one way or another. After I get rid of you, I'm shorting this mechanism and retiring to a beach in Akavir."

Falnas knew he could waste no time, so he stepped towards Metzger, who came at him, his sword flickering as he twirled it, showing his confidence and making sure Falnas knew what he was up against.

Mercer was insanely fast, and it was only because Falnas felt his own blade jerk in the right direction, that he had the speed to block the swipe. Mercer sliced high, aiming for Falnas' face, but again, the Nightingale's sword was guided to block the blow.

Mercer growled, only half impressed. "Seems Nocturnal is giving you a hand. No matter. She won't save you."

"Brynjolf, get the… dammit, almost had it!" Falnas heard Karliah shout, but he couldn't spare a moment to see what they were doing.

Mercer sent two short, quick stabs his way, the Nightingale sword deflecting the first, but the second got through, glancing off Nocturnal's armour, but not without biting into his side, slicing into the muscles protecting his innards.

Grinning his teeth bare, Mercer thrust his weapon forward again, but this time Falnas was quicker, his foot shooting out and kicking Mercer flawlessly between the legs. The kick wasn't hard, but the placement was perfect, and Frey staggered back, trying to keep himself from doubling over, one hand on his privates.

Falnas knew he couldn't hesitate now. He threw himself at Mercer, but tripped over the Eye of the Falmer, once again crashing into him, sending both their swords flying, the weapons clattering over the stone and splashing into the water. They both struck the wet stone hard and rolled over the edge, back into the ice cold water, which had now risen so high the entire book was under water.

A fist struck Falnas in the side, but the blow had its impact diminished due to the resistance of the water. He kicked out, booting Mercer off him. He grabbed hold of the edge of the stone book and meant to hoist himself up, but he felt a hand clawing at his pants, eventually grabbing him by the belt, trying to pull him back under.

He could only perceive a vague shape under the water, but he clearly saw the dagger being pulled, ready to stab him in the gut and unzip him. He kicked out with his knee, cracking his underwater enemy's jaw. Mercer flailed in the water for a moment, but he didn't let go of the dagger.

Mercer emerged from the water, holding his dagger high and ready to plunge into Falnas' throat. Falnas punched the Nord off him, and again they both went underwater, but Falnas' hand had managed to pull something with it.

"You want this, asshole?" Falnas roared as his head broke the surface. "Take it then!"

He pulled as hard as he could.

With a loud splash, the Eye of the Falmer fell in the water, smacking straight into Mercer's skull with a chilling bonk. The fingers that held Falnas let go, and the water turned red, bubbles rising to the surface as Mercer sank.

Falnas held his breath and dove, snatching the Skeleton Key from Mercer Frey's belt. The old Guild Master's gaze crossed his one more time before he went to the bottom, trailing red bubbles, a look of dazed confusion still in his eyes, his arms cradled around the massive gem.

Falnas kicked himself upwards and emerged above water in time to see Karliah and Brynjolf conquer the portcullis' mechanism, Brynjolf holding it up with a grimace as Karliah slipped under it, and Karliah doing the same for him, while Falnas found purchase on the book and stood up, the water now waist-high, submerging over half of the entire statue.

"The mechanism!" Kaliah shouted. "Fix it or we'll all drown!"

Falnas waded through the water, towards the button, while Karliah and Brynjolf jumped in, swimming his way.

The entire thing was busted beyond repair, Falnas could see it right away. Mercer had spoken of "shorting it", but Falnas had no idea what that meant. He had no knowledge of these bedamned Dwemer mechanisms. By Almalexia's shit-stained knickers, Karliah should have just let the bastard escape. His hands trembled as he tried to manipulate the button, and it wasn't just from the cold.

"How are we doing?" Karliah said, coming to stand beside him, wiping the water from her face.

"You broke it," Falnas snapped. "That's how we're doing."

Brynjolf joined them. "There's got to be a way to – "

"This thing's completely ruined," Falnas barked at him. "We're stuck here! And if we don't figure something out, we're going to drown like rats along with that asshole Mercer!" He blew a wad of blood out of his nostrils, the pain of his nose forgotten.

"So we're fucked, basically?" Brynjolf asked, his voice shaking with unconcealed despair.

"No," Karliah assured him. "We'll find a way."

The water still roared with no sign of stopping, and as if to silence Karliah, the button's socket was now submerged, making a sharp, loud pop and disappearing under water.

"The water's going to go all the way to the ceiling," Karliah muttered. The level seemed to be rising even faster now, the water coming to their shoulders. It wouldn't be long before they'd have to tread water. The swirling, frothing mass already came to their chins, and still the pipes dumped more and more into the atrium.

"Cuntface Mercer," Falnas could only say.

There was no way out, they could all see it. There was only walls and the ceiling. Any doorways they may have been able to use were all underwater now, the corridors behind them flooded. The water would rise and rise, until they clung to the ceiling with their faces, breathing in the last bit of air they could, before that too was taken and they'd spend horrible minutes in agony, pounding at the ceiling, kicking their legs and drowning.

"Falnas," Karliah said, taking his hands. "I want you to know that – "

"The pipe!" Brynjolf screamed, his voice shrill. "The water comes from three of them, but the air's gotta go somewhere, right? Otherwise this place couldn't fill up. The fourth pipe! The ventilation shaft! It's our only hope!"

They were treading water now, the ceiling only a metre and a half from their heads.

"You're right Brynjolf," Karliah shouted, her voice a mix of panic and euphoria, "We've got to try!"

"If there's no grill or grate to keep people out who had exactly that idea," Falnas pointed out as they swam for the middle of the room. He immediately regretted saying it.

"Yeah! Well!" Brynjolf snapped at him, turning his head, his wet hair whipping around. "We'll just have to hope, won't we?" Brynjolf was a few metres ahead, swimming faster than the Dunmer. Swimming was something Nords were simply better at, though he figured all three of them wished they were Argonian right about now.

The water rose even further, and as they swam closer to the pipe's mouth, they all realized the metal tube was their only hope.

They reached it just as the water crept up to the pipe's mouth. One person could fit, but not three. "Brynjolf," Falnas shouted to the Nord when he reached it. "Go! Don't wait for us, go!"

"Oh man," Brynjolf said, desperate, "this pipe better not have any obstructions!" With that, he went underwater.

Karliah and Falnas made it too, the water only leaving around thirty centimetres between its surface and the ceiling. And still more came. "Go, Karliah, go! I'm right behind you!"

"Don't die, alright?" Karliah shouted over the roar of the water. "I need you to have someone to vote for when we elect the next Guild Master." She disappeared underwater.

It was nice to hear, but they would either survive this together, or not at all. "Nocturnal," Falnas pleaded with his eyes closed, "Don't call us to you just yet."

He opened his eyes and took one last look at the ceiling, now a few centimetres above him. It was the pipe or a slow, horrible, panicky death. He took as much air as he could, then went under, kicking himself off from the ceiling and hooking his hands around the mouth of the pipe.

He pulled himself through the opening and kicked hard, propelling himself so hard he banged against the wall of the pipe when it made an L-turn to the right. He had a brief moment to look ahead, but saw only darkness, before the water overtook him once again, flooding the horizontal section of the pipe. He kicked off, feeling his way as he went, his hands touching a vertical wall again. The pipe led up. With the water still flowing, there was no way to catch up to it, given the pipe's small circumference and the volume of water that still came. Brynjolf and maybe Karliah would have been able to crawl some of the way – with breathable air! – but Falnas would either swim through the entire thing or die in it.

He couldn't see anything underwater, and his lungs were about ready to burst. Despair came over him as he realized he would probably never make it to the end. He clawed at the pipe wall, determined to fight until the end. It led upwards again, the water carrying him with its buoyancy.

Hs hands pressed against both sides of the pipe, he worked his way upward, fighting for his life against the force of his own muscles trying to pull his ribcage open and let the water fill his lungs.

Then the walls of the pipe were gone, and he was swimming in free water. He kicked and kicked, clawing his way upwards. He saw light! Light being reflected off the surface of the water. He wasn't going to make it! It was too far! His lungs screamed and he kicked like mad, but it was the end.

He'd fought well, and Nocturnal would be proud of him when he entered her realm. The Skeleton Key hung from his belt and the others would be able to recover it from his body. Peace came over him when he realized Brynjolf and Karliah would have made it. They'd had the chance to breathe before the last part was flooded, and with the light so close, they would have made it to the surface. They were safe and alive, and he could make his own sacrifice in peace.

His lungs could take no more and his mouth opened, inhaling the water, sealing his fate.

As he lay in the cold embrace of the water, now both around and within him, he stopped fighting and let death take him. And he was surprised to feel death's fingers close around its wrist, as if it was ready to take him to Nocturnal's realm and drag him if it had to.

He felt himself going upward, more fingers latching onto him, pulling him away to whatever destination awaited him.

His head broke the surface of the water, and immediately, his lungs contracted, ejecting the liquid inside them in loud hacking fits, the water spraying from his mouth and running down his chin.

He knew he wasn't in the realm of death when he saw Brynjolf's stupidly grinning face in front of him.

"Falnas! Falnas!" he heard Karliah shout behind him, and he turned his head to see her face also. "Oh, you're alive, thank Nocturnal. Oh, that was close!"

Falnas couldn't reply, only puke up more water.

"Let it out, buddy," Brynjolf laughed, beside himself with relief. Falnas felt more or less the same. He was alive! His friends had come back for him and he was alive!

He managed to take a breath, and with a loud "Ha-haaaa!", he threw his arms around Brynjolf. "I'm alive! I'm alive!"

Brynjolf hiccupped with laughter. "I can't believe we managed to get you out! Man, that was tense! I am never swimming again!"

Falnas turned to Karliah and wrapped his arms around her as well, though in a very different way than he'd done with Byrnjolf. She held him back and he pressed his lips hard against hers while Brynjolf just cackled like a madman behind them, swinging his arms to splash water everywhere in pure ecstasy.

Their lips parted, and Karliah smiled at him. "Come on, let's get out of the water."

They lazily paddled to the edge of the underwater pond that had formed when the ventilation pipe at the bottom of what was only a pit before, had started to belch up water. They were now in an egg-shaped cavity in the mountain, with only a small opening above them, letting in the light of dawn. The water seemed to have stopped rising now, the reservoir which had held the water had either drained, or reached an equal level with the pond they were in now.

Falnas' lungs still ached, and he could feel there was still water inside them, but none of that mattered. He'd cough up most of it, and the rest, well, he'd have to make sure to stock a few potions to prevent infections. Lungs hated water, after all.

When they were all sitting on a rocky perch overlooking the pond, Brynjolf said, "So, what now?"

"Now we get out of here," Karliah said, her legs dangling over the edge of the rocky precipice. "There's a passage that leads up."

"Not that. I mean what happens with the Guild? Where do we go from here?"

Karliah looked out at the water and smiled. "Well. With our previous leader having met an unfortunate demise, we'll have to hold elections, I suppose."

Brynjolf blew. "What's the point? You've earned the position fair and square."

Falnas coughed again, spitting out more water. "He's… right, you know. It makes," cough, "sense that you'd take the reins."

Karliah chuckled. "No. No, I can't lead this Guild." She turned to Falnas. "I had years to prepare my move against Mercer and the only thing I've managed is to come up with the most needlessly convoluted, least effective excuse for a plan ever made. No." She looked ahead again. "I always thought I'd be a good leader, but I'm not. I didn't realize that until recently." She was quiet for a moment. "I'm… a better advisor than a leader. A good right-hand woman."

"Who then?" Brynjolf asked. "I sure can't lead. I'm a man of action. I'd get us all jailed in a week. Vex? Delvin? All too individualistic."

Karliah sighed and rolled her eyes. "You don't pick up on subtlety very well, do you, Brynjolf?"

With a shrug, Brynjolf only said, "I'm a Nord. Of course I don't."

Karliah repeated, "I'm good at advising while someone else leads. A good second-in-command."

Falnas decided to let go of all reservations and insecurities and got up, saying, "She means me, Brynjolf. I should be the next Guild Master."

"Oh. Right." He thought for a moment. "I'd vote for you."

"Come on," he told the others. "Let's go back to the surface. Build a fire. Get warm. Then we can get back to Riften. We can always mount an expedition for the Eyes later. Right now, we need to go home and make sure I get elected."

"You will be," Karliah said with a smile, also standing up. "When we enter the Ragged Flagon tomorrow, it will be your kingdom."

"And will you be my queen?"

"I will be, but let's not make this awkward for Brynjolf."

Falnas took her hand, and together, the three Nightingales walked to the surface, gathered wood for a fire, and spent a day of camaraderie, forging an unbreakable bond between them, one that made all three equal, one that made no difference between them, that went beyond romance or friendship. They were Nightingales, and they were the best damn thieves on Nirn. They spent the entire day by the fire in their underclothes, talking, making jokes, telling stories, sharing thoughts both profound and frivolous, sharing their food and drink. Then they slept, their bodies finally resting from the trials they had been put through.

They woke together, packed their bags and returned to Riften, enjoying each other's company, knowing it'd be the last time they'd be together without all the headaches and responsibilities and politics of the Guild.

When they stood at the Shrine of Nocturnal, Falnas holding the Skeleton Key, they swore never to betray each other, and all three knew none of them would ever break their word.

Then Falnas returned the Key, Nocturnal's approval washing over them, and he knew that a new, better time for the Guild had begun. A Guild that, under his leadership, would blossom and flourish, and would perform deeds that would make for such good stories, that the one of his ascent to Guild Master would seem like a quaint little tale in comparison.