The pain is a constant throb in Libby's head, cheek and ribs. Seconds go by before she can see definite edges in her surroundings, the opening of a tent, the soft feel of fur beneath her, and a chill bite of wind. Libby rolls to her back, and blinks to settle the world. Slowly her vision returns, and her memory. She takes a deep breath to steady her heartbeat; she always rationalized that if she could calm her heart, her feelings of nausea and dizziness usually go away. But as she tries to calm her heartbeat, when she remembers where she last was, it speeds up and Libby scrambles into a seated position, which makes everything worse. She grunts into her teeth and holds her side, then pushes herself forward.
It's near dusk as she crawls to the front of the tent. Pink clouds are bordered with a periwinkle outline against a pale blue backdrop. With her mind still settling, Libby didn't even notice the dark figure in front of her. Libby gasps but is too dazed to even reach for her blade. The wind blows at a campfire settled in front of the tent, and it stirs Libby's hair which she now realizes is down and around her shoulders. The figure slowly approaches, and when Libby steps backwards, she stumbles.
Before she hit the ground, there's a sudden grip on her arm and shoulder, and she's eased back onto the bed roll.
"Easy, easy. Don't get up so quickly." A soft feminine voice speaks. Libby's heart jars in her chest. "How are you feeling?"
Libby relaxes. "Sore. Never thought the poison would be that powerful."
"Took me almost a year to perfect." Karliah says. She helps Libby be seated and hands her a cup of tea from a kettle brewing over the fire.
Libby accepts it gratefully and takes timid sips. Karliah skewers a salmon and sets it across the fire; rotating it quietly as the wind and crackle of the fire fight for dominance of whose noise reigns supreme. With her cup half empty, Libby clasps it between her wrists. She flicks her eyes and out of their corner she sees Karliah with a placid look on her face. Still Libby could spot someone's tell, and she can barely pick out pieces of guilt and sorrow.
"I take it our rouse was successful?" Libby asks.
"Almost too successful. Your friend and the Guild are in mourning. And they may never forgive us." Karliah answers. "I haven't seen them this depressed since Gallus."
Libby lets out a cold laugh. "Didn't know I was so loved. Could've fooled me."
"Are you okay?"
Libby's silent. "She'll never forgive me."
Karliah's quiet, keeping her gaze on Libby while simultaneously rotating the fish on its spit over the fire.
"Uh, this is where you say, "I'm sure she will." Libby says.
"You know her better than I do, Libby. And besides, that would've been a plain lie. And despite my larceny past, I prefer not to lie to my friends."
"At least try to make me feel better." Libby snaps.
Karliah remains quiet, offering no judgment, only a simple hand on Libby's shoulder. Libby tenses for a minute before relaxing at her grip. Libby takes another sip of water and exhales heavily; her breath puffing out in front of her and dissipating in a second.
"So what's next?" Libby asks, placing her tankard in the snow.
"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus's murder." Karliah hisses through her teeth, as if the very mention of the memory boils her with anger; which is now understandable.
Libby aches, inside and out, and nothing seems simply anymore. Nothing seems right. But her warmth was long lost before this. It would seem now nothing soft and conciliatory lives inside her anymore. A hard kernel of anger takes root and burrows in. Builds anger inside her, replacing her blood with bitter water and filling her, consuming her. She wants to hit something, but there still throbbing muscles forbid so. Libby is into too much pain to do anything, so instead, she begins to cry. She instantly wipes her tears with the heels of her hand, before they're halfway down her cheeks.
"How will you prove it to them?" Libby asks.
"My purpose for using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus's remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside." Karliah explains.
"Well, what's it say?" Libby encourages. She inches closer to Karliah.
"I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before." Karliah says.
Libby slumps lower into the bed roll and tries to think through her options. A language that has never been seen before, someone could read it, someone smart. In a collage. The College of Winterhold.
"Perhaps, it could be translated?" Libby suggests, springing to prop on her elbows.
"Enthir . . ." Karliah breathes. Her eyes widen. "Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course . . ."
"Who?"
"He's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."
Libby's head snaps up. "You still need to tell me about them." She reminds. "About the Nightingales. All I know is that Dad was one."
Karliah can't help but giggle. "Hearing you call him dad, it's strange. I never thought Gallus would be a father, but that man was full of surprises."
"You would've been a cool mom." Libby says, earning her a surprised look from Karliah. "Seriously. You both were the best, according to Mercer. If you had gotten married, I would've been a prodigy."
Karliah smiles. "Libby, you still are a prodigy. And I promise I'll explain to you more about the nightingales soon. But we need to stay focused. Right now, you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation. And take these as well, they may prove useful for your journey."
"Can't you come with me to Winterhold?" Libby asks.
"I'm afraid not. There are preparations to make and Gallus's remains to lay to rest." Karliah answers. "I promise to join you there as soon as I can."
Karliah hands Libby two different powerful poisons and Gallus's journal.
Libby looks to the journal, running her thumb over the cover. "Can I ask . . ." Libby starts. She peeks over Karliah's shoulder and finds the other bed roll in the snow.
Did she really sleep out in the cold?
"Yes?"
Libby bites her lip. "Can you tell me, about Gallus?"
The questions seem to bring a painful smile to Karliah's face. "He was a scholar, a master thief and a natural born leader. Everyone respected him and followed him without question." She explains. "It was Gallus who inducted me into the Nightingales and honed my skills to a razor sharp point."
She pauses. Her smile fades and a small tremor works through her lips.
"I owe everything to him." she croaks. Karliah looks down and around her feet before she raises her head.
"Can't wait to see how Diamond will react." Libby says sarcastically.
"We will reveal you to her in due time."
"How long will that be? I can't just leave her to, suffer, thinking I'm dead. I need to tell her." Libby counters, beginning to walk.
Karliah stops her by stepping in front of her. "You go the Guild, and everything Gallus worked hard for will be ruined. We need to be patient."
Libby pauses and looks around fidgeting with her options. "Look Karliah, I understand where you're coming form, I really do. But you don't know Diamond. I'm afraid for her. You of all people should understand how she must feel."
"I do. But risk exposure and Mercer will be long gone before we can even prove to the Guild of his crimes." Karliah explains. "We need to have him think your dead, for the better part of our plan. I'm sorry Libby, but you have to understand that."
Libby sighs and nods, and goes to sit back down. Mercer. That bastard! She doesn't want Mercer alive. He doesn't deserve it. He lied to Libby, and the Guild; about Karliah, and about himself. He deserves to die. It might've been too late for Libby to protect herself, but it's not too late to get vengeance.
"Mercer is mine." Libby growls.
"You will have your vengeance, but only after we have the Guild at our backs." Karliah reminds the assurance in her voice calms Libby slightly. "Mercer doesn't need to die . . . he needs to feel the cold sting of fate as his life crumbles in front of him and he's hunted by the Guild."
"Might not have a choice next time." Libby says.
"I can promise you if it comes to that, and my back is to the wall, I won't hesitate." Karliah growls, and judging from the look in her eyes, Libby could tell she was telling the truth.
Libby sighs and begins to stand. But Karliah steadies a hand on her shoulder. "Of course, you could just rest for a few more minutes, if you don't feel as strong. My apologies."
"The more we stall, the more Mercer lies to the Guild." Libby says. "Plus, the sooner we're done, the sooner I can see Diamond again. Plus maybe moving around may help."
Still Karliah recommends Libby walk around the camp for a few minutes to assure she can steady herself. "Remember, speak only to Enthir. Trust no one else." Karliah says.
Libby nods and goes over to her horse; for some reason Mercer didn't kill or steal it. Karliah gives Libby the description of Enthir – a Bosmer sorcerer and merchant found at The College of Winterhold, and has connections to the Thieves Guild in Skyrim. She mounts and snaps the reins and they ride off to the college. From Snow Veil Sanctum, it's a straight shot northwest to the college and Winterhold. She thunders through the snow and along the road until she reaches Whistling Mine. She trots up to the outskirts of the town, then dismounts.
Winterhold is a former major city which is located in northern Skyrim. It is the capital city of the hold of the same name. Once a great capital rivaling Solitude in power and importance, Winterhold is now little more than a shell of its former self due to The Great Collapse.
Libby pulls her hood over her head as she enters the Frozen Hearth, the only inn in the hold. The inside mimics that of every other inn in Skyrim. A hugs fireplace at the center of the room with longtables along the walls, and chairs in a small circle to watch whatever bard be available. Libby glances around and finds no Bosmer around. She checks the rooms, not worried about looking suspicious since she is really looking for someone. She finds Enthir in his room with a tankard in hand, and a book on Ice Spikes on the table next to him. Libby enters and approaches.
"Excuse me," she quietly speaks.
"Yes, yes. What is it?" he speaks impatiently.
Libby leans close and whispers. "I've been sent by Karliah."
Enthir's eyes immediately widen. "Karliah? Then she's finally found it. And you must be Libby. Gallus's daughter." He motions Libby to sit in the other available chair, Libby does.
"H-how did you know who I was?"
Enthir chuckles. "You're the spitting image of Gallus. You have similar features, a certain spark in your eye. Never thought I'd see it again. But enough about that, do you have Gallus's journal?"
"Yes, but there's a problem." Libby says as she pulls out the journal.
"A problem? Let me see it." says Enthir. Libby opens the journal and places it on the table, sliding it towards Enthir. He chuckles. "This is just like Gallus. A dear friend, but always too clever for his own good. He's written all of the text in the Falmer language."
The Falmer are the degenerate offspring of an endangered species of elves, Snow Elves, who dwell in the ancient Dwemer ruins hewn from Skyrim's expansive subterranean caverns. Although blind, their senses of hearing, smell and touch are attuned far beyond those of most other races. The Falmer have a distinctly otherworldly appearance. Their infrequent exposure to sunlight has left their skin a pale shade of gray, like that of the rocks in the caverns where they live. Therefore, they burn easily and emerge only at night. Also, their hides are wrinkled and scarred. They are nearly eyeless and totally blind.
The Falmer were not always the hideous, pale-skinned demons that reside in ancient Dwemer ruins. They were once members of an even more ancient and powerful race known as the Snow Elves, beings of grace with wisdom beyond that of even the High and Wood Elves. That is until they lost a war with the Nords, forcing them to live underground with the Dwemer, who blinded and enslaved them. Centuries of life underground have caused the Falmer to adapt to their harsh environment. While physically similar to other Mer, the Falmer have changed noticeably. Their skin is a pale grayish tone and they move with a hunched posture.
Their most notable feature is their blindness; a layer of pinkish skin covers the vestigial eyes. However, their other senses have become extremely sensitive as a result. Unwary adventurers learn quickly that the Falmers' blindness is no handicap in combat or crafting.
"Can you translate it?" Libby asks.
"No," Enthir sighs. "But I know someone who might. The court wizard of Markarth, Calcelmo, may have the materials you need to get this journal translated."
Libby nods as Enthir slides the journal back over to her.
As she tucks it away, he speaks. "A word of warning. Calcelmo is a fierce guardian of his research. Getting the information won't be easy."
"So, why did Dad scribe his journal in Falmer?" Libby asks.
Enthir chuckles. "Besides the fact that there are only a handful of people in Tamriel that even recognize the language? I'm fairly certain he was planning some sort of a heist that involved a deep understanding of the Falmer language. Sadly, we never had the opportunity to speak about the details."
"Where did he acquire the knowledge to use it?"
"Ironically I pointed him in the same direction I pointed you. To Markarth and Calcelmo. I'm only hoping whatever means he used to learn the language will still be available to you." says Enthir.
Libby nods, and fidgets with her fingers.
"Something on your mind?" Enthir asks.
"Is it alright if I ask you to tell me about Gallus? Or, Dad? Karliah says you were the only friend he trusted." Libby quietly speaks.
Enthir smiles and turns to look ahead. His eyes go vacant as he stares at the wall. "He was a dear friend of mine and a surprisingly astute pupil of academia . . . I was devastated when he was killed. And I suppose that risk always coexisted with his line of work, I just never thought his luck would run out."
Libby gives Enthir a confused look. "Wait, he was an academia yet he chose a different path? Why?"
"Well, for the thrill of course." Enthir chuckles. "He was quiet clear that he felt more in his element climbing through a window rather than hunched over a dust old tome."
"So how did you meet him?" Libby smiles.
"Ah yes, quite an amusing anecdote actually. I caught him trying to break into my laboratory." Libby laughs and covers her mouth. "I was about to show him the error of his ways when he made a curiously astute comment about my research notes. I was astounded and in turn it lead to a conversation. Who'd have imagined it would lead to such a strong friendship?"
Libby smiles. "Hmph. I'm actually jealous. You got to spend a lot more time with him than I did."
Enthir places a hand on Libby's knee. "I've known Gallus for years. So I can guarantee, that he would be immensely proud of you, Libitania."
Libby gives him a half smile. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Aw, I thank you. That's very sweet." Enthir smiles. "I don't know why you just don't lead the Guild."
Libby chuckles. "I'm not much of a leader."
"Well you never know. Your potential can stretch father than you think." says Enthir.
Libby smiles and pats the table. "Well, thanks so much Enthir for your help."
"Anytime. Remember, Calcelmo is stubborn as a mule. Be careful when you speak to him. Oh, and one more thing." Enthir says.
He stands and hands Libby a new map much similar to her old one, but this one has a heavenly glow around it. The paper is parchment and when Enthir points to the city of Markarth, the icon glows a pure white.
"This map will allow you to fast travel to any of the locations you've already discovered. And when you discover new places, they'll be added to the map." He explains.
Libby gazes at the paper with large eyes. "That's incredible."
"It also saves you so much leg work. You can us it anytime."
"Thank Enthir." Libby smiles.
"My pleasure."
Libby then takes her leave and exits the inn. She opens her map and points to the Understone Keep, where the Jarl stays and no doubt Calcelmo. The icon glows and the world slowly fades dark. The darkness smudges her surroundings into nothing as the noises become garbled in her ears. Though it grow louder for an instant, closer, the tones themselves began to tremble and shudder. They warble and echo, almost as though she's been plunged far underwater. Through the shrinking wedge of dim light, she could see the logs crackling in the fire. The gap shrunk to a mere slit. The darkness surrounds her, growing thicker, clamoring to take hold of her, like the unlimited tentacles of some formless wraith.
Then as suddenly as they had taken hold, the shadows released her.
Like a thick fog, they receded from Libby, a few clinging wisps slithering over her shoulders and arms.
When she opens her eyes after what felt like minutes, she finds herself at the Keep, the night have been overtaken the sky. If it was duck when she left Karliah and Enthir, the travel was hours. It felt short.
Libby enters the Keep and stumbles into an argument between a priest and a Nord.
"What are you hiding, priest?"
"I'm not hiding anything. It's closed for a reason." He replies.
Libby cautiously walks past them. As much as she'd love to hear the interesting story, she had more important business. She carefully steps over rocks through a small corridor, past a guard, and over to the left where she finds an excavation site and a man in wizard robes at an Alchemy table.
Libby approaches with a polite and shy demeanor as she taps the man's shoulder. "Excuse me,"
"What are you doing here?" Calcelmo snaps. "The excavation site is closed. I don't need any more workers or guards."
"I was looking for you actually." Libby says.
"I told you I'm not hiring anymore guards. Why do you people always bother me when I'm trying to finish my research?" he barks. "You idiot! Do you know who I am? The most recognized scholar on the Dwemer in all of Tamriel, and you people keep bothering me!"
Libby's lip contorts into a vicious snarl and reaches for her dagger. "I don't care about guarding your research you dumbass, I just wanted to ask you a fucking question!" she yells back.
The Calcelmo's eye widen at Libby's language, but he clears his throat. "I . . . I'm sorry I . . . I got too excited."
"Well that sure escalated quickly." Libby snaps.
"I'm in the middle of some very . . . stressful work, and I shouldn't have yelled. How can I help you?" he asks, applying a more friendly tone.
Libby takes a deep, calming breath and removes her hand from the hilt of her dagger. "I hear you're the authority on ancient Falmer."
Calcelmo smiles. "Then you were well informed. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my opus on the subject. I'm calling it "Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue." It will revolutionize the way we understand those ancient beings."
"Perhaps I could view your work?" Libby asks.
"Preposterous!" Calcelmo denies. Libby rolls her eyes, groaning. "That research represents years of personal toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim! You must be mad to think I'd allow anyone to see it before it's completed."
"Well, I did hear a guard say that you own the Dwemer Museum?" Libby asks.
"Correct. It's a private place where I can catalog my research. Occasionally the Jarl will come in and have questions, but that's thankfully rare." Calcelmo says. "Tell you what, I'll let you in if you do something for me. There's a giant spider in Nchuand-Zel. My workers call her "Nimhe," the poisoned one. If you deal with Nimhe, I'll let you into both the excavation site and my Dwemer Museum. What do you say?"
Libby smiles. "That spider is as good as dead."
"Enthusiasm. Good. Here's the key to the dig sight." Calcelmo smiles.
The ruins themselves were impressive, and the spiders more of an annoyance than a threat. They each died with one shot of her arrows. Nimhe died instantly with three to the abdomen. After harvesting some venom, Libby returns to the Keep to tell Calcelmo the news.
"I've killed Nimhe." She says.
"You have my gratitude. That spider has been interfering with my excavations for months." says Calcelmo. "As promised, here's the key to the Dwemer Museum. Mind the displays. Some of them are quite fragile."
Libby nods and gives a sweet smile before she leaves Calcelmo. She quickly walks across the front of the Jarl and his guards, to imitate excitement for the museum. She unlocks the door and tucks the key in her pocket. She carefully treks through the museum up to the door that leads to the laboratory. None of the guards notice her, so she unlocks the door and slips inside.
She creeps in through a small entryhall before coming to the first room. She overhears a couple men talking. "You heard me, captain – our work must not be disturbed. Kill any intruders on sight. Call for backup if you need it. But let no one through."
Libby sneaks over to the door leading to the next room and finds another guard posted in front of the door she needed to bypass. She sees a pullbar just above her head and sees thick vertical lines on the floor. Libby waits until the guard walks right over the lines before pulling the bar.
There's a mechanical click and two gold rods shoot up, and appendages fold down and spin in circles. The swishing sound whistles in the air and Libby can see they're blades. They slice at the guard who dies in seconds, and gets flung across the room from the propulsion of the blade. With another pull, the blades retract and sink back down into the crevice.
Libby loots the body for gold and an extra key before heading deeper. She heads up a set of stairs before more guards' voice sound.
"What do you think this is?" one asks.
"Another trap most likely. Things are dangerous . . . three of the guards died when the lower hall flooded with steam last week." says the other.
Across from her spot, Libby finds the entrance to the lower hall. She creeps across the floor, past the guards and down to the lower level. A pungent odor instantly makes her nose wrinkle in disgust. Off to the right she sees the room, with thick green gas billowing about. On the floor are the three guards and skeletal remains of those before.
Libby sneaks her way in before the smell his her. The serum smells like smoke and spice, and her lungs reject it with the first breath she takes. Libby coughs and splutters. She grabs the dead guard by the helmet head and drag him out of the room. She feels the serum clinging to her skin like oil, but the heaviness recedes.
She loots the body of everything; leaving the clothes – of which have the stench of the gas, and keeping the gold and a steel dagger. Off to the left she sees a pressure plate that could stop the gas. Dropping the body of the guard, she slips through looting all their remains and finding extra keys before returning to her previous hiding spot. Above her head is a valve. Taking the risk, Libby rotates the wheel and watches as more of the razor wings rise up and begin spinning, they knock out one guard by slicing her legs. Libby looks away. Another guard, from the sound loses one arm and leg. One it's silent, Libby stops the razors and runs up to the bodies, trying not to look at the puddles of blood.
Slipping through a door and up the stairs she comes to an office for the mercenaries. There at least two in the room. Libby loads an arrow and shoots it in the direction of one guard, purposely missing for the distraction.
"I know I heard something." One says. The guard near the door goes to investigate with the other, and Libby swoops past them. "I guess I was just hearing things." She hears the guard dismiss.
Shutting the double doors behind her, Libby comes to a small aisle like room, a double door leading down a flight of stairs into a room with three guards and a wizard. Libby can't help but snarl. Wizards and witches were always annoying. They would constantly blare someone with magic and as that person is trying to approach them, they keep wandering back. Reasonable of course, yet so annoying.
Libby exhales deeply through her nose and finds another valve at the end of the aisle. She toggles up to it and rotates it right.
The room erupts.
Everything shakes. The pillars spew fire everywhere and there's the sound of harsh mechanic weapons spinning. The wizard screams and wails, the mercenary orders everyone to fall back. The wizard gets caught in the machinery, and Libby can hear him choke on his blood. One guard falls victim to the blades, while the other takes his own advice and flees the room into the previous one Libby came.
Libby rotates the valve back and heads down into the room. Looting the bodies of gold, and grabbing the Dwener Puzzle Cube, she advances to the Makarth Wizard's balcony. Now back outside, Libby takes little time to admire the view and smell of something other than gas fumes. She immediately heads up to Calcelmo's Tower.
Inside, Libby enters into an aisle with large stone pillared walls on either side. Tattered draperies sway from the slightest breeze ibn their failed phase. Stepping more in, she comes to a large platform with the stone tablet of the Falmer alphabet. It sits atop with two stone freestanding columns on guard on either side of it. She notices one set of stairs lead up towards flat stone trusses, so Libby takes the one on her right. Climbing up she measures the distance and leaps down onto the platform, rolling to come up on one knee.
She gazes at the stone. It's a foot taller than here and at least two and a half men wide. She braises her fingers over the stone with a feather-like touch. A carving of a Falmer head snarls at her with its ears pointed back. Looking behind her there's a door that leads to Calcelmo's study.
Instead, Libby finds an abandoned library, or whatever could be smaller than that, since the first thing she sees are books. Inside, the musty air held an antique thickness, and the scent of dust and aging books combined to make breathing a chore. The front room has multiple desks huddled in different corners, walls lined with rows of tall, sturdy bookshelves that reached almost the ceiling. Overhead, the tired light of torches burned a dull gold, adding little relief to the accumulated shadows. Carefully, she steps around a mound of ancient looking tomes gathered near the door. Libby's gaze passed up and over the marked spines of countless books, every item categorized by its own number and date, and it made her feel almost as though she is walking through catacombs. When she reaches the center, Libby peers around the shelf to see another desk. Well, really, there are lot of books piled on top of something that at one time must have been a desk. Also scattered with scribbled papers and charcoal everywhere.
Snatching a roll of paper and charcoal, Libby drapes the paper over the stone tablet and begins to scribble the charcoal across the paper. Once the charcoal was done and positive every inch of the paper was inscribed with the strange lettering of the language, she carefully rolls it up and tucks it away in her sheath of arrows. As she descends the stairs, her heels stop as she hears voices.
"All right men, spread out and search the tower-"
Libby quickly runs up to the trusses and ducks down flat on her stomach. She crawls to the edge and glances over.
"No telling who – or what – we're dealing with."
At least four mercenaries walk into the room guided by a wizard. One stands guard by the pillars while the other three heads up the left flight of stairs into Calcelmo's office. Libby hops on the capitol of her stone pillar and onto grading that leads right to the door. As she leaps down, she watches the guard follow the others further into the office.
Back out on the balcony, instead of walking all the way through back to the museum, Libby looks around and finds a small dirt narrow way behind the waterfall of the city. It leads her down past the water and to a small drop-off in front of Cidhna Mine. Once her feet are back on the ground, and sure no other guard had seen her, Libby pulls out Enthir's fast travel map. She closes her eyes and pictures Winterhold.
Once the cold air nips her nose, she opens her eyes and heads to the inn. Asking about Enthir, the innkeeper points her to the basement. Libby peers around the counter and finds a hidden stairway lead to the cellar. Libby carefully opens the door, shutting it quietly behind her.
Inside she finds Karliah and Enthir behind a wooden table counter. Unlike most other basements, this one has a whole section set off with a table set with food, a bed, wardrobe and side table. In the very back are the mead barrels and hay stacks where Karliah and Enthir stand. Libby smiles and walks up to them, giving Karliah a hug hello. Enthir approaches as Libby removes her hood.
"Back eh? And how was our friend Calcelmo?" Enthir sarcastically asks.
"As stubborn as you predicted. But this should help translate Dad's journal." Libby says pulling the roll of paper out of her quiver.
"I suppose it would be inappropriate of me to ask how you obtained this, so I simply won't." Enthis says. "A rubbing, eh? Odd. I expected notes."
"It's quite a tail." Libby sighs.
"I understand." Enthir chuckles. "Now, let me take a good look at this. Over here please."
Enthir walks behind the counter and sprawls the paper across the table. He pulls out Gallus's journal and begins to flick his eyes between the two. Libby looks to Karliah who spares her a glance and a small smile.
"Hmm. This is intriguing, but highly disturbing." Enthir begins.
"What?" Libby asks.
"It appears that Gallus had suspicions about Mercer Frey's allegiance to the Guild for months. Gallus had begun to uncover what he calls ". . . unduly lavish lifestyle replete with spending vast amounts of gold on personal pleasure."
Karliah and Libby step closer and Libby fists her hands. "Does the journal say where this wealth came from?" Karliah asks. Simultaneously she takes Libby's hand; as if she needs it to help her stay rooted into the earth. Or perhaps she needs the feel of something real while Enthir floats out Gallus's words.
"Yes. Gallus seems certain that Mercer had been removing funds from the Guild's treasury without anyone's knowing." Enthir answers.
Libby tightens her free hand, afraid she would crush Karliah's bones with the fury behind its grip. Surely knowing her knuckles were white, Libby tightens her chest and forces herself to breathe.
"Anything else, Enthir? Anything about . . . the Nightingales?" Karliah nearly begs from the tone in her voice.
Enthir flips through the pages with a look on his face that Libby has seen so many people make when they enter a certain zone of concentration. "Hmm. Yes, here it is. The last page seems to describe "the failure of the Nightingales" although it doesn't go into great detail. Gallus also repeatedly mentions his strong belief that Mercer desecrated something known as the Twilight Sepulcher." He pronounces.
Karliah's grip loosens, like her body gone limp and Libby looks to he and notices she's pale, even for a Dunmer. "Shadows preserve us." She says breathlessly. "So it's true . . ."
"What is it Karliah?" Libby asks.
"I, I'm not familiar with the Twilight Sepulcher. What is it? What's Mercer Frey done?" Enthir asks.
"I'm sorry Enthir, I can't say." Karliah replies, snapping out of her trance. "All that matters is we deliver your translation to the Guild immediately."
She removes her hand from Libby's grasp and steps back.
"Farewell, Enthir . . ." Karliah folds her lips in. "Words can't express . . ." her voice hitches.
"It's alright Karliah. You don't have to say a word." He eases. Karliah gives him a hug of gratitude and then turns to leave. Enthir approaches Libby. "Listen, all I want is the truth to be revealed to the Guild. They respected Karliah, and she deserves better. Do whatever you can, and I'd consider it a personal favor."
"Thank you, Enthir." Libby smiles.
"If trying to rid yourself of stolen goods becomes a burden, and you find yourself in Winterhold, visit me at the College." He smiles back. And with a pat on Libby's shoulder he ushers her out of the basement.
Libby finds Karliah near the front door and hurries over. "We must hasten to Riften before Mercer can do any more damage to the Guild."
"Dad's journal mentioned the "Twilight Sepulcher." What is that?" Libby asks.
"You've come this far, so I see no harm in concealing it any longer." Karliah says. "The Twilight Sepulcher is the temple to Nocturnal. It's what the Nightingales are sworn to protect with their lives."
Libby raises her eyebrows. "Why does it require that kind of protection?"
"Everything that represents Nocturnal's influence is contained within the realms of the Sepulcher. Now it seems Mercer's broken his oath with Nocturnal and defiled the very thing he swore to protect." Karliah explains.
"This doesn't add up."
"I felt the same way when Gallus first revealed these things to me. I think given time, you'll understand what I mean." Karilah says.
"And you still need to tell me about the Nightingales. Who they are!" Libby says growing impatient.
"As a Nightingale, I've been sworn to secrecy regarding the Sepulcher."
Libby rolls her eyes and groans as she goes for the handle on the door, but Karliah's hand touches her wrist. "I know the Guild doesn't do much to foster faith, but I'm going to ask that you continue to trust me."
"Of course I do! It's just . . . annoying and confusing. How can I avenge my dad, if I don't know who he really was, and what it is I'm saving?" Libby sighs.
"I think it is time I tell you. But first I want you to have this. It belonged to Gallus, and given the circumstances I think he'd approve."
Libby's heart hitches. Karliah pulls out a sword that looks like it was dyed in ebony. The blade had a darker tone to it, pulsating a red and green, the guard is circular and bore a crest of the symbol of a bird embracing a circle of undetailed blackness. Then the pommel it forged into three distinct bird feathers. With shaking hands, Libby takes the sword and despite its sharpness, glides her hand along the blade, poking at the tip with her finger.
Libby's eyes well with tears, and she sniffs. "Thank you Karliah. I promise I'll put it to good use."
"If the Guild isn't willing to listen to reason, you might have to." Karliah says. "Now, I do think it's time I show you something else. Something I know Gallus would say you're more than ready for. Once we're done, I'll make for Riften and scout the situation; see if I can discover what Mercer's up to."
"And Diamond?" Libby asks.
Karliah gives her half a smile. "After I show you this, you can see her again. Now follow me."
"To . . ."
"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. It's important we go there now."
Libby wants to ask what its importance is, but she know Karliah is probably leading her to somewhere big. Since it's not the Sepulcher, obviously, it must be something related to the Nightingales.
She follows Karliah out the door and lets her lead her horse all the way back to Riften. Up the small path Libby can see the clearing Karliah mentioned. The place seemed to practically disappear into the rock. Libby and Karliah dismount and Libby sticks close to Karliah as they approach.
"Whoa."
Karliah walks up to the standing stone and hurries Libby forward. "This is the Headquarters of the Nightingales, cut into the mountainside by the first of our kind. It's time I give you the grant that Gallus would say you more than deserve."
"What kind of grant?"
"Just follow me and I'll explain on the way." Karliah answers.
They enter through a hidden door and into a small cave tunnel. Karilah leads Libby down a dirt path with only the light of the torches and a small crevice that blows a withered banner. Around the corner, they pass under a banner depicting the crest of the bird and the room opens.
"This is Nightingale Hall. You're the first of the uninitiated to set foot inside in over a century." Karliah explains.
Libby raises her eyebrows.
"Now if you'll proceed to follow me, I'll show you your new armor." Karliah says.
Libby nods. She looks around the hall and can't help but smile. Gallus was from here. This place is both her ancient and her recent history. She can feel Gallus in the walls, in the air. Libby can feel him settled inside her, never to leave again.
Death could not erase him; he is permanent.
"Now if you'll proceed to the armory to adorn your Nightingale Armor, we can begin the Oath." Karliah says.
Libby suddenly stops, her hands growing cold, heart racing.
Karliah stops walking and turns. "You appear hesitant to don your Nightingale Armor. What's troubling you?"
"Do you really think I'm ready?" Libby asks as she descends the stairs.
"I personally don't. But this isn't my choice, and I don't want you to doubt yourself. This is Gallus's decision."
"How do you know?"
Karliah pauses. She looks to the armor stones and smiles. "Gallus and I have been partners for a long time. And he always said to me, about you, to always think the opposite of what I think. So if I were to believe you're not ready, he would think the opposite. Almost as if he were preparing me for this moment. He'd be proud of you."
Libby smiles and turns to approach the stone. A single touch, a close of her eyes, and she feels the Guild's armor dissipate like ash from her body. Seconds later, it feels like tendrils of darkness crawl across her arms and torso. They tickle and wrap about her body, encasing her in shadow. She feels the darkness grow in volume and go to cover her nose, yet she doesn't suffocate. A mask. Then her arms feel heavier as she feels gloves about her forearms. Then her feet are within boots.
Libby opens her eyes and turns to Karilah who only smiles. She guides Libby towards a reflective shield, and Libby peers at it.
The being in the mirror is from another world. Where they make their clothes out of pure darkness and the scales of dragons.
The entire ensemble was black, scaled armor that covered her from the neck down alone and appears to be made as forged midnight. The shoes had thin soles, perfect for sneaking undetected. It is as black as a night; she'll be virtually invisible in the dark. The hood comes with a mask piece that covers nearly her entire face, leaving only her eyes exposed as two pinpricks of light; and when the hood is drawn, they're shadowed so there's nothing but blackness. Libby can't feel any reinforced protection over her vital organs, and feels weary. But the maker must be pretty confident she will not be seen if it wasn't incorporated. The glove-gauntlets wrap all up her arms, no skin exposed. The hood connects to a cape that falls down her back, stopping just below the knees. So in the event she needs to run, it relieves her of having to tug or hold at it.
It was so intricately designed and dark, Libby is breathless. It seemed dangerous, deadly. The base of the chest bears an insignia that resembles a night bird cradling the moon in its wings.
"This is . . . amazing." Libby compliments, adjusting the gloves and bending her fingers.
"Walk around. Make sure it fits alright." Karliah says.
Libby walks in a circle, jogs from end to end on the deck and circles her arms, twists her torso and waist. "Fits well. Perfectly, even.
"You appear ready for the Oath." Karliah smiles.
Libby nods. She feels excited, suddenly, to learn more about these discreet shadow warriors, which feels like the same thing as learning how to be a thief: she will get pieces of her father back.