Blood is a strange color. Darker than one would think.
Because of the species difference, people think that Falmer blood color would be different than a human's. But it's not. They're all the same. Same color. Same blood. Does that makes us all brethren? United by the same blood.
Entering into the Irkngthand Sanctuary, it spots along the book held in the hand of the Irkngthand statue. For a moment, all Libby can do is gaze at the great statue, unable to believe that it's the only visual representation of a Snow Elf. The species of what the Falmer used to be before years of twisted suburban slavery morphed them into the vile beings that they are.
The entire room is soaring with glowing mushrooms and pipes intertwined into the cavern. Sunlight rays peek in through crevices in the ceiling and Libby takes deep breathes to calm her body. Filling it with fresh air is rejuvenating. She thought the swollen feeling in her throat would go away, but it doesn't.
Mercer stands mounted on the head of the statue, the hilt of his dagger shoved into the left jeweled eye trying to pry it loose. The right eye is already gone, leaving it nothing more than a black socket. As he pries the other one loose, Libby hears Karliah whisper.
"He's here and he hasn't seen us yet. Brynjolf, watch the door."
"Aye lass. Nothing's getting by me." Brynjolf whispers back. I can't wait to get my hands around that bastard's neck."
Libby keeps her eyes on Mercer as the eye finally comes loose and drops to the collar of the statue.
"Climb down that ledge and see if you can . . ."
"Karilah, when will you learn you can't get the drop on me?" Mercer's voice booms.
Libby shudders involuntarily. The sheathing of his sword is all Libby can hear apart from her own breaths, which grow faster by the second. A chill makes its way up her spine and spreads down her arms, giving her goose bumps.
Mercer's hand glows and his fingers clawed. When he fists his hand, a wave of blue misty light spreads around the cave and rattles the rocks. Several boulders fall from the ceiling crashing into the water below, and that somehow pierces through the haze in Libby's mind.
The entire platform beneath her feet collapses and Libby's stomach drops. Libby yelps and ends up landing on her side instead of her feet. She groans, and drags herself to prop on her hands and knees, cupping her ribcage with one hand. Panicked, Libby jolts to her feet and looks up at Karliah and Brynjolf still atop the platform by the door. Karliah nearly hauls herself towards the edge, reaching out a hand to Libby. Brynjolf peers over, and even with the mask covering his face, Libby can see the looks of fear and concern on his features.
She turns back around to Mercer and watches as pink square platforms appear as she walks down them towards the lower level of the statue. "When Brynjolf first brought you to me Libby, I could feel a sudden shift in the wind." Mercer says bitterly, as is speaking to her alone gives him a bitter taste in his mouth. "And in that moment, I knew it would end with one of us at the end of a blade."
For a moment, Libby's nerves are replaced with anger, and her tone comes out steady and hard. "Give me the Key, Mercer."
"What's Karliah been filling your head with? Tales of thieves with honor?" Mercer has reached the book splattered with blood. "Oaths rife with falsehoods and broken promises? Nocturnal doesn't care about you, the Key or anything having to do with the Guild."
"It's not about Nocturnal. This is personal. You murdered my father!" Libby snarls, her anger growing and devouring her fear. But she has to remember to not let her anger blind her. Charging in head on is the best way to get oneself killed.
"Revenge is it? Have you learned nothing from your time with us?" Mercer's voice grows. "When will you open your eyes and realize how little my actions differ from yours? Both of lie, cheat and steal to further our own end!"
"The difference is I still have honor!"
"It's clear you'll never see the Skeleton Key as I do . . . as an instrument of limitless wealth. Instead you've chosen to fall over your own foolish code!"
"I never got to know my father because of you, and now I'm returning the favor. If anyone falls, it will be you!" Libby screams.
"Then the die is cast, and once again my blade will taste Nightingale blood!" Mercer hollers back.
Libby readies her weapon as Mercer's hand glows a strangely heavenly orange. He chucks it above Libby's head, towards Brynjolf and Karliah.
"Karliah, I'll deal with you after I rid myself of your irksome companions. In the meantime, perhaps you and Brynjolf should get better acquainted." Mercer slyly smiles.
Libby follows the ball as it crashes into Brynjolf, and casting spirals of light around him. Suddenly, his arms twitch and he lunges for Karliah.
"What's . . . what's happening?!" he charges for Karliah, spinning his dagger, and Karliah dodges gracefully, spinning on her toes and bending backwards. "I can't stop myself!"
"Brynjolf!" Libby yells.
"Damn you, Mercer!' Karliah hisses under her breath. "Fight it Brynjolf . . . he's taken control of you!"
Just as she finishes, Brynjolf rams an open palm against her chest. The strength makes Karliah fly back, but rolling with the momentum comes up on one knee.
"I'm sorry lass, I . . . I can't . . .!" Brynjolf pleads.
"Karliah!" Libby yells.
As her name leaves her lips, Libby hears Mercer's battlecry. She whirls around in time to watch him leap high in the air, sword in hand and bring it down for an immediate deathblow. Libby whips out her bow and shoots an arrow. Mercer easily deflects it and their weapons clang together. Libby quickly brings Mercer's blade aside and kicks him hard in the ribs. Despite his size, Libby's strength has increased with her training with Karliah. Mercer tries to push his sword up, and Libby lifts her weapon high, so that she's able to grab him about the chest and hurl him towards the ground. He skips across his back before sliding in the dirt to a halt.
He grins. "Not bad. Karliah, teach you that?"
Libby wants to run. She's facing Mercer alone. The Guild Master.
She tries not to think about the bandits, about the Falmer, about Gallus.
The strength of Nocturnal is with her.
Libby sheathes her bow and clicks her two Nightingale daggers together as she gently weaves back and forth. She watches Mercer's hand twitch, his fingers weaving. Libby spins her blades from hand to hand as she charges forward. At the last second, she cartwheels and chucks a small pouch towards Mercer, upon impact it breaks and explodes into a haze of blue smoke.
Mercer cries out as she's sure she hit his face and Libby leaps back as Mercer casts an alteration spell. Libby watches as his body fades away.
But the blue smoke bomb wasn't for distraction as he had assumed, instead it coats his body so that no matter where he runs, Libby can still see him. Libby gives chase, but suddenly his form vanishes, and Libby skids to a stop as she hears a splash.
He jumped in. didn't take long for him to realize that.
Libby carefully treads, listening past the crumbling of the rocks. There's a sound of metal as his blade suddenly lashes out in front of her in a smooth motion, the blade bathed in ripples of red. One slash and he could suck all the life out of her. Libby falls backwards, her spine arching and her knees bending. After the sword passes over, she snaps forward, lunging with her daggers. Once scrapes against his cuirass and catches in a crease while the other gouges the flesh underneath his chin.
Before she could finish the kill, Mercer rams an open palm against her chest. The strength of his arm sends Libby backwards, a shock wave of sound and fire exploding from the contact. Libby rolls, shadows splashing off her body and lying like deep puddles.
"Nocturnal guide me!"
Her feet touches the ground, she spins, crosses her arms and vanishes in a puff of smoke.
A long shadow stretches from the hand of the statue, and out all along the arm. And out of that shadow leaps Libby. Her feet slam into the small of Mercer's back. He cries out in pain as he stumbles forward, his sword slashing behind him blindly. Its enchantment sears some of her armor, but cut no flesh. Libby's Nightingale blade strikes Mercer, cutting a thin but bloody wound across the back of his head.
"I bring death from the shadows." Libby taunts.
Mercer falls forward, avoiding the vicious thrust aimed between his collarbone and neck that would have surely finished him. The dagger strikes his armor. The magic in both collided, strength against strength. Sparks shower to the ground. The dagger dulls. When Libby spins, thrusting it forward, Mercer twists so she stabs directly into his thick breastplate. The dagger explodes into shards that bite her hand. Blood soaks her gloves.
"I'll spit on your corpse!" Mercer yells as he goes on the offensive, slashing back and forth with his blades. Libby ducks, shifts, and leaps away like a dancer, each cut passing close enough to steal more of her life essence. When his sword stabs forward, it should have pierced her heart. Instead he cut smoke, for she is gone.
Anticipating the attack, Mercer spins, cutting the air between him and the shadows. Libby is there, her foot outstretched for a kick, but again Mercer's sword passes through only his lungs and tasting foul on his tongue. Within the smoke he hears laughter. Within the laughter he hears rage.
"The burden of death approaches!" Libby shouts.
Something sharp pierces his side just above his belt. Warm blood pours down his thigh. He feels it twist, and the pain doubles. Mercer swings, but he feels blind and dull. His swords cut air and smoke, nothing more.
Mercer strikes the ground with his blade, both hands gripping the handle to increase his strength. Power rolls from the blow, pushing away the smoke. Clean air fills his lungs. Before his head could clear he sees Libby lunging at him, her dagger aimed for his eye.
Mercer drops and spins, vaulting Libby over him. She follows through, coming up on one knee and spinning her blades out.
"A shame," Mercer says. "You could do great things with me with such skill."
Libby knows he's trying to buy time, but plays along. "So you're finally admitting it?"
Mercer charges, spinning his blade in dizzying circles between his hands. Libby holds her sword to block a kick, but Mercer pushes it aside with his own, keeping it there and ramming his other knee into Libby's diaphragm, grinning when he hears her wheeze and then slashing just above her temple. Libby screams out in pain and Mercer takes her by the scruffs of her hair and pulls her face up to his. Despite the blood pouring from her wound, his lips ram into hers, drinking in her scream like a fine wine.
Libby drops her sword. Her left hand shoots up, blocking the stab aiming towards her chest with her dagger blade. Her right hand reaches forward, grabbing Mercer's neck and crushing his throat. Before he could turn invisible in her hands, Libby shouts the name of her deity and let her full power roll forth.
Mercer's whole body goes rigid. His hair billows about, face locked in a grimace of pain. Ash billows from his nostrils and open mouth. His entire weight hangs from the fierce grip of Libby's hand.
"I claim your soul for Nocturnal!" screams Libby. She slams him headfirst to the dirt. As he gags, trying to force air through a charred throat, Libby picks up his Dwarven sword.
"Nocturnal will abandon you." He says, his voice hoarse and weak.
"Don't you see?" Libby says, the sword held in both hands, the tip touching his chest. "My faith is strong, and her presence in me is stronger. You're the one who abandoned Mercer."
Libby stabs down and twists. The essence of Mercer seep from his corpse and into Libby, healing her wounds and breathing strength through her limbs.
"Shadows . . . take me." He whispers his last breath.
"I send your soul to rest. I claim your soul for Nocturnal." Libby mumbles.
When she yanks the sword free, she spits on his corpse. She straps the sword to her belt. Turning to face the grand statue, she clasps her hands together and bows her head.
"Bless you, Lady of Shadows . . . I live another day." Libby says through a manic laugh.
She's defeated Mercer Frey. The Guild Master. Alone!
The sudden shaking of the cavern ruins her moment. Brynjolf and Karliah jump down from the ledge and hurry to follow Libby. Brynjolf envelops her in a hug and cups her cheek with one hand, checking that she's all right.
"Damn! This place is coming down!" Karliah shouts. "Quick, get the Skeleton Key and the Eye and let's get out of here!"
Looting Mercer's body, Libby takes the key, the Eyes of the Falmer, and every last valuable gem, coin and potion Mercer has stocked away in his pockets.
Brynjolf tries to push open the door. "No luck there, lass. Something must've fallen on the other side of the door because it isn't moving!"
"We have to find another way out of here before the place fills with water." Karliah says.
Libby meets Brynjolf and Karliah at the hand of the statue. Grasping Karliah's forearms, they hoist Brynjolf up as the water fills. Mercer's corpse sinking to the bottom. Libby looks all around, frantically making a plan so that she doesn't panic. The water covers her thighs.
"Quick, everyone to high ground!" she orders.
Brynjolf and Karliah follow and they leap up to the collar of the statue. The water rises, but still, Libby bought them a few seconds, and those can be very valuable to any thief. The water envelops her waist. Libby climbs around the front, gripping the nose of the head and looking up. She finds a small huddle of rocks towards the top, sunlight peeking desperately through. Every time the room shakes, small pebbles and spritz of dirt fall, coating her head. The water is up to Karliah and Brynjolf's ribcage. Libby looks back towards the water, watching.
"Karliah! Brynjolf!" they both look to her in attention. "Dive!"
Without waiting to hear their prodding, she swan dives into the water, its icy fingers gripping her arms as she plunges. She quickly swims towards the surface, and just as she break, she hears two plunges. Brynjolf and Karliah gasp for air as they break the surface.
"I hope you know what you're doing, lass." Brynjolf warns.
Libby brings out her bow and readies an arrow. She shoots it at the huddle and it only ship off a few small bits. She shoots three more, still only breaking off bits and bits. Frustrated, Libby has to sheath her weapon as the water level rises.
"It's not enough, Libby!" Karliah says.
Pulling it out again, Libby loads her bow, but this time her arrow has a rope attached to it, and she aims for the center of the rocks. The arrow sticks, and Libby tugs. At first the rope only pulls taut. It's hard to breathe, but she has to try. She needs as much air as she can get in a few seconds.
Her body rises, weightless in the water. Libby floats closer to the ceiling and tilts her head back as the water covers her chin. Gasping, Libby presses her face against the dirt above her, sucking in as much air as she can. Then the water covers her, sealing her in the cave.
Don't panic.
Her chest burns like she's just swallowed fire.
Libby pulls herself along the rope, praying it doesn't snap. When she feels the shaft of the arrow, she pulls at it. The water decreases her strength, still she pulls. She places her foot on the rock, and yanks with all her might. Even with the water muffling everything, she hears it. A cracking sound. Libby tugs harder, increasing the crevice and allowing sunlight in.
She hears a long, low groan.
The rocks break and Libby quickly pushes them aside as a force of air sucks her forward, she feels the movement on her face. There is air again.
Libby's body gets thrown to the ground and she gasps, swallowing water as well as air, and coughs, and gasps again, and rough but strong hands close around her arms.
Brynjolf pulls her arm across his shoulders and hauls Libby to her feet, Karliah clumsily hurrying ahead. Libby stumbles beside Brynjolf and through water and out into a tunnel. Libby slips and slides on the dirt as they speedwalk through, following the bronze pipes as fast as her weak legs can muster. Her feet leave the ground and Brynjolf carries her with both arms.
As Libby coughs and wheezes, she hears Brynjolf coo to her calmly. Her heart steadies and she manages to force the water out of her lungs. Once they reach the end of the tunnel, Libby finds out they are in Bronze Water Cave.
Brynjolf walks over to a small ground pipe and sets Libby down. He walks around to her front and kneels. He pulls down her hood, hair soaked and a red line goes across her nose from her mask.
"Are you alright, Libby?" he asks.
Libby nods. "Yeah," she vocalizes. Her throat hoarse. She looks up to Karliah, and smiles. Even with the mask, she can tell Karliah smile back, as she rushes in and gathers Libby in a hug. Bursts of sob laughter escaping her lips.
"I can't believe it's over." Karliah sobs through her laughs. "Twenty-five years in exile and just like that, it's done."
Libby laughs and digs through her pockets and pulls out the Key. It's a peculiar thing. The head of it black with neon blue swirls, then the hilt and shoulder a rustic color of brown leading all the way to the shaft. The notches are on either side and in the oddest shape, like a square someone decided to just cut in random spots and angles.
"All that remains is to ensure the safe of the Skeleton Key." Karliah breathes.
Brynjolf pats Libby's shoulder and pulls her in, kissing the side of her head. "Compared to fighting Mercer, sounds like it'll be simple enough."
"I'm afraid it's not."
"The hell it isn't." Libya mumbles.
"I understand you're probably frustrated, and I encourage you to take a rest. But let me just give you a warning." Karliah persuades.
"Fair enough." Libby says as she wrenches her hair.
"When the Skeleton Key was stolen from the Twilight Sepulcher, our access to the inner sanctum was removed." Karliah explains. "The only way to bring it back will be through the Pilgrim's Path."
"I take it you never used the Pilgrim's Path?"
"It wasn't created for the Nightingales. It was created to test those who wished to serve Nocturnal in other ways." Karliah explains. "As a consequence, I have no knowledge of what you'll be facing."
"Then we'd best get started." Libby says and goes to get up.
"Whoa, whoa, steady there lass. You just took down Mercer Frey and nearly drowned." Brynjolf stops her, putting his hands on her shoulders and sitting her back down.
"But I didn't drown." Libby says.
"Still, give yourself time to gather."
"Why aren't you saying anything?" Libby asks.
Brynjolf frowns. "I'm afraid I'm needed back at the Guild to keep order while you're away."
Libby looks up. "Karliah?" she nearly begs.
"I'm sorry Libby, but I . . . I can't face Nocturnal after my failure to protect the Key." She whimpers. "I'm afraid you'll have to face the end of your journey alone."
Libby felt like crying. But she tries to convince herself that after her battle with Mercer, this will be a walk in the park. Yet she wishes Karliah or Brynjolf would still join her, just so she won't have to feel that annoying urge for company. Still she holds her head high and smiles.
"Don't worry, I'll return the key." Libby promises.
Karliah sits down next to her while Brynjolf scopes out the rest of the cave. "Here. Take this with you. I'm not certain if it will help within the walls of the Sepulcher, but I certainly don't need it as much as you."
Libby watches as Karliah slings her bow off her shoulder, and hands it to Libby. Libby looks to her with a look of shock. Karliah nods, and Libby reluctantly takes it with shaky hands.
It's a beautifully crafted black bow with exquisite balance, and an elegant design where the curves of the limbs suggest the wings of a bird extended in flight. On the upper limb, the symbol of the Nightingales crest embalms just above the grip, and the tendrils of pale blue along the limbs give the bow a touch of elegance. Buzzing in her hands, Libby remembers the enchantments and carefully sets it in her lap.
"I've had this bow almost my entire life, and it's never let me down. I hope it brings you the same luck."
"Karliah . . . thank you." Libby chokes on her words.
"I know Gallus would be proud," Karliah replies. "and I can't think of a better way to honor you, as a fellow Nightingale."
Libby and Karliah embrace one another and Libby can feel her draw a shaky breath. "Be careful, Libby. There are bound to be some obstacles in your path, whatever it may be."
"When am I ever not careful?" Libby smiles.
Karliah merely chuckles in reply and strokes Libby's hair.
After exchanging a hug and trading the Eyes with Brynjolf, Libby hugs him goodbye and dries her clothes with a spell she learned from Enthir. With her clothes dry and her hair braided once more down her back, Libby grips the key in her hand.
With Karliah's bow, Mercer's sword and her father Nightingale blade, Libby steps out and heads south to the Sepulcher.