Author's Note:

They have money now, new associations and they are getting back up on their feet. But it's never enough for thieves, is it? This series of side stories portray the Guild and a couple of its members in the aftermath of Karliah's brief takeover. With Brynjolf as their new Guildmaster, they are trying to reclaim their past glory and rebuild their family after the tragic schism, one step at a time.

There will be four chapters total, each happening some time after the culmination of the Thieves Guild plotline in the main fic. I hope you'll enjoy the stories :3

For All the Riches

Part I – Old Friends and New Enemies

He examined the strange object in his hand one more time.

It was funny – it looked so special, maybe a little sinister too, but it was completely ordinary to the touch. He had always thought that it would feel strange, that he would feel power emanate from it or something. But that wasn't the case.

Still, there was power. Strange power. He tried to use it – when it slid inside a lock, he felt the metal move and shift and adjust to the bolts inside. An impressive artifact. Unlike any other on Nirn.

But at what cost?

The Skeleton Key could get inside anything in the world, whether there was a lock or not. It sounded impossible, yet that was the rumor. But all it symbolized for Brynjolf was everything it had cost him and his family. So many lives lost, so many enemies made out of old friends. His family was fractured, hurt and still bleeding.

But it was slowly getting back together.

The money helped. There was no doubt about it.

After Karliah's death and after Brynjolf took care of the most immediate precautions to ensure they didn't lose her biggest contacts, it was time to sell the spoils of this ordeal at last – the Eyes of the Falmer. It didn't take Brynjolf long at all to make sure he got the best price from a secure source – most of the fences were used to dealing with him instead of Mercer already anyway.

The Eyes earned him more gold than he had ever even seen in his life. It was a fortune larger than they had ever had in their vaults. He had to have a lot of members with him just to transport the money back to the Guild securely. But they made it.

First things first, he gave every single remaining member, as well as Karliah's people who were willing to stay, a very generous compensation for all this mess. The rest remained in the vault safely secured and only accessible by three keys – his, Delvin's and Vex's. Well… almost. There was still one key that could open it up in a matter of a single second.

And that was part of the issue.

This thing, it was powerful. It was tempting.

But it needed to go.

There were a lot of reasons for this decision.

First and foremost, he knew all too well that some of his people would want the Key for themselves. Brynjolf was not going to allow more in-fighting. They'd been through enough, all of them. It was time to unite again and work together.

Secondly, while he was all for taking advantage of any situation, he was quite curious to see how the Guild would finally do on its own. No scare tactics and alliances with bandits, no mystical 'luck', no Daedric artifacts. It was time to show everyone what they were made of.

And finally, he was a man of his word. He promised Karliah that he would return the Key to that 'Sepulcher'. And… Gallus was a good man. Wherever he was, he deserved to be with someone he loved, even if they had to serve some master for eternity. Brynjolf was still angry about everything that Karliah had been planning to do with his family – brainwashing and cultism. As if they hadn't been through enough under Mercer's bootheel. But he made a promise and he kind of understood people in desperate situations like her, even if he didn't approve.

This was the right thing to do. The best solution to everything. A closure.

And then, the Guild would finally be free from all of it.

Free, self-reliant, unafraid of speaking their minds and rich beyond their wildest dreams.

Brynjolf couldn't even remember the last time he thought they actually had a bright future.

But now it was all within reach.

…

This was it. The Twilight Sepulcher – the place where the Key belonged.

Brynjolf had no idea what awaited him in this place, but he was determined to weather whatever challenges it had in store. Besides, this was a nice reprieve from his new duties.

It wasn't all new. He was very used to most of it. After all, he had been the one to deal with a lot of the Guild business before. But then again, now he wasn't just given directions by Mercer. He had to make decisions and determine what was best for the Guild in any given situation. That was certainly… novel. He had always been a little bit indecisive. Maybe too careful. Bishop always blamed him for his approach when it came to Mercer. Brynjolf understood why, and he had plenty of regrets about allowing Mercer to go so far with terrorizing the Guild. But he had a tough time imagining the alternatives. Maybe his passivity caused harm. Maybe it prevented it. Who was to say? He was decisive when it came to Karliah and it cost her her life. Was that the better option? Was that the only option?

Everything seemed muddled. And Brynjolf found himself overthinking even the smaller decisions now. That was definitely not a great trait for a leader, was it? Was he even fit to do this? Everyone was so confident in him to lead the Guild, so convinced that he was the right man for the job. He still had Delvin and Vex as his right hands, as always, to help him out, but decisions were still up to him. He couldn't just leave it all on his trusted friends.

He needed to clear his head. And living up to a promise might help.

Besides, getting the Key away from the Guild would definitely erase one of his constant worries.

The mysterious cavern wasn't easy to find with the meager directions Karliah gave him. Granted though, he didn't really give her much chance to elaborate. He needed to find Thorn's caves first, which he managed to do with some of the help of Karliah's former men who had participated in the assault. The caves seemed empty now, which was definitely a relief, but he needed to go beyond, further east.

He followed alone along the mountains. He didn't tell Karliah's people – his new Guild mates – where he was going and why. They didn't protest, didn't question him when he asked to be shown to Thorn's caves. They were used to getting orders and obeying. So was his family for the most part. Fear or kindness, it had the same effect in the end. Both Mercer and Karliah managed to keep their dirty little secrets while people followed them blindly. Brynjolf didn't want to lead like that. He wanted everything to be transparent. Maybe that was the first step to a better future for the family.

But, then again, he was already lying to the vast majority of them now – about Karliah, about why Mercer died, about the Key. Was it just inevitable? The lies, the secrets. Was it just part of this?

He wanted his people to trust him not because they feared him and not because they had no idea who he really was. But once more, he was getting too into his own head about it all.

It was best to just head inside the cave that he finally managed to find – it was hidden in between the mountains, but it had two braziers at the entrance, surprisingly burning steadily, likely because of some magic. And there was an actual ancient door in the rock. It had to be it – this place reeked of ceremony.

What would he find inside?

Was he just supposed to toss the Key anywhere in there? Karliah wanted it returned to the Sepulcher but she didn't specify anything else. What was he supposed to do with it exactly?

Hopefully he would find more answers there.

The door was predictably locked, but he had the perfect tool to open it. To open anything. And just like with everything else he had tested, the Key worked its magic the second it touched the ancient lock.

After he walked through a short hallway, he found himself in an enormous chamber. It seemed entirely empty, there were just pillars, steps leading to huge ancient Nord doors, and cavernous walls. Brynjolf had to wonder for a while why Nocturnal's sacred place where the Key was supposed to be housed was here in Skyrim. Or were there these sepulchers everywhere, in every Province? He didn't even know if the Nightingales were anywhere else. There certainly weren't any left here. Not that he knew of. Not any from that 'Trinity' at least.

And was it the ancient Nords that built this place for Nocturnal? Was that order this old? Or did they just take over a convenient ruin for their endeavors?

So many questions and no answers. He killed the last source of answers. But did he even want one? Did he really want to get tangled up in this mess more? He just wanted to leave the Key here and return home, to his family, to help them rebuild and thrive.

He just wasn't sure what to do with it.

"Thief!"

A voice boomed across the chamber suddenly and Brynjolf's eyes darted around to see the source. There was a… a ghost?

It wasn't there before; Brynjolf was sure of it. But now there it was. Brynjolf had seen some ghosts before here and there. This did not look like the usual ghosts. Its form was translucent too, but instead of the usual soft blue glow, it emanated a dark purple one. And it just appeared out of nowhere!

It was a woman and she quickly descended the steps to approach him. She didn't look hostile. She didn't even have a weapon brandished. Brynjolf had seen ghosts but he never really fought one. Weren't they incorporeal? How did one fight a ghost? How did a ghost fight anything on its own anyway?

"Thief. The Key. I can sense it," the woman hissed. "You are not the chosen. Not of the Trinity. Are you here to steal or to return?"

"Return," Brynjolf answered promptly. She was talking about the Key, right? Was there anything to steal here?

No. No stealing. Don't mess with a Daedric Prince. Just return the Key and that's that.

"Good. I am overdue, I deserve my eternity," the ghost sighed almost wistfully. "Return the Key and open the door at last."

"'Door'? What door?" Brynjolf scowled at her promptly. Nobody said anything about a door. This better not be some fucking portal to Oblivion that would have nasties coming out of it and attacking everyone.

"The Ebonmere," the woman spoke almost reverently. "The door to Evergloam. We are barred. We served, we watched, but there was no Key to protect. The false chosen took it. But without the Key, we are barred from the Evergloam. Stuck here, serving beyond our due."

Huh. So there were ghosts here, souls stuck and watching over the Key? Interesting. How many were there? Brynjolf knew, judging from the size of that Nightingale training place, that the order used to be big. It wasn't now. Not in Skyrim anyway. But how many ghosts would be here? And would they all believe that he was here to return the Key?

But that wasn't the main problem.

"Does this… Ebonmere of yours let something in? Let something come to Nirn?" he prodded. That would be bad. He would have to reconsider his promise.

"No. It lets us enter our deserved eternity. Those that serve their due here, they can move on to the twilight's embrace at last," she explained.

Alright. Fine. As long as this ghost was telling the truth, that was fine. The Key could stay here.

"Do I just… drop it, or…?" He asked, though he kind of suspected he knew the answer already.

"No. We cannot touch," the woman scoffed at him. "You need to bring it to its vault, to open the Ebonmere."

Hmm… he suspected as much.

"You are not a chosen," the ghost spoke again. She said that already. "You wear the armor, but you don't have the gift, the favor. Only the chosen may carry the Key. Some may… think you a threat. Perhaps you are. But… if there is a chance to have the Key returned…"

"I don't want anything of yours. Anything of Nocturnal's," Brynjolf scowled deeply. "I'll return the Key and be done with it."

"Fortune with you, thief."

Her words echoed through the chamber before she rushed away again. Bryn wasn't sure if she called him that as a respectful label of his profession, or as an accusation because he had the Key and the armor – neither of which were supposed to belong to him.

He took his eyes off the ghost only for a second, but when he looked back, she was gone. She couldn't have even made it up the stairs in that span of time.

So… Nocturnal's Nightingales were… serving here? Paying their 'dues'? They probably guarded the place from intruders. And now, when their door was closed, they were stuck here even when they earned their 'Evergloam'. That was how people selling their lives to these masters ended up. Servitude was never preferable, even if it promised wealth and safety in life. This is what Karliah wanted to subject his family to.

Don't think about it or you'll change your mind.

It was time to move on. There was nothing left for him in this chamber.

But all he learned here gave way to so many more questions. And one of them in particular was persistently on his mind.

Did all Nocturnal's Nightingales end up in this place?

…

This time, things did not seem to be going too smoothly.

"I am here to return the Key!" Bryn called out to the ghost charging at him, but the ethereal man was not listening to reason. He had two translucent short swords brandished and he was running at him at a surprising speed, passing through any obstacles in the way.

It was… unfortunate. Brynjolf had no idea what would happen when he killed the ghost. Would the man be able to pass through to that Evergloam place? Would he be punished by more time paying his dues here in this empty place? Or would his soul be destroyed? Was that even possible? Brynjolf had no idea how any of this worked and it made him feel very odd.

But what made him feel even odder was the fact that he was even thinking about this. These people chose their fate willingly. They knew that servitude was in store for them.

But… did they? When their precious chosen went around, brainwashing people in order to fill in their ranks, who was really at fault here? Those that let them prey on their vulnerabilities, or those that manipulated people? Bryn had been on both sides of such deals. He still had no idea which one was worse.

But he wasn't exactly in a position to ponder on it. Could he even kill a ghost? His sword was enchanted. That was enough, right? And how exactly did the ghost's weapons work?

He found out very soon. He attempted to lock swords with the ghost to prevent his attack, but the ethereal weapon went right through his, and through his arm.

Bryn felt pain and a strange cold enveloping his wrist. His hand wasn't lopped off or anything, but it hurt a lot. And it was so cold. Maybe it was an enchantment. It was a fucking weird feeling's what it was. And he really didn't expect it to go through like that. Why not? He knew that nothing about the ghost was corporeal.

He quickly tried to collect himself, but the ghost managed to slash him with his other sword, this time to his shoulder. Brynjolf let out a hiss of pain, but he was done getting beat down by someone who couldn't even touch him.

He retaliated as fast as he could – at least the wounded shoulder was on his other arm, but the wrist still hurt. No matter. He stabbed the ghost's stomach and the sword went right through, but his enchantment worked. Green glow enveloped the ghost right away, stiffening his ethereal form in a strangely unusual display. And at the same time, flames enveloped the ghost, practically melting the stiffened man in the spot until there was nothing left of him but a violet puddle on the ground.

What happened to him now?

Brynjolf was still wondering. He couldn't stop imagining his family sharing this fate.

He could still not believe Karliah's gall. How could she claim to be doing it all for some good when she knew that this prison of uncertainty awaited them all? The more he saw of this place, the angrier Bryn felt. He thought he could put aside his rage to do this one last favor for her, but it was getting harder and harder.

"It's been so long since I felt someone… alive."

A voice suddenly echoed from behind his back. Another ghost. Brynjolf never saw them around, never noticed them patrolling or guarding anything. They just… appeared suddenly every time. So far, at least.

But this voice sounded a bit familiar. Bryn just couldn't place it.

He turned away from the puddle to look at the new ghost in the room. There were just ordinary rooms there now, with tables, beds and boxes and stuff. Clearly people used to live here, not just ancient Nords. But that was not important. The important thing was the new presence here.

A face he had not seen in over a decade.

"Gallus."

"Brynjolf," the old Guildmaster smiled. "I felt a presence, and the Key. I did not expect a familiar face in this place."

"Tell me about it," Brynjolf nodded. It's been so long since he had seen him. He was quite new in the Guild when Gallus was in charge, but he remembered those times fondly. Everything then seemed less strained. More amicable. He always wished things could go back to it. But after all he knew now, was that really the case or was it just what it seemed like to him when he had no idea what those in charge were really doing? "You're not gonna attack me like your friend did, are you?"

"Friend?" Gallus looked around the room in confusion for a moment. "I know they are here, the others, but we are all alone in the shadows. Until we can reunite in Evergloam. My… friend will be here. Whatever you did to him. Until we can leave. Are you here to return the Key?"

They couldn't see each other? They just knew they were there but they couldn't interact? That was… horrifying. They were all alone here for how long?

"I am," Brynjolf nodded. "You'll be able to go to Evergloam soon, if that's what you want."

"There are no more 'if's'," Gallus shook his head, but he didn't really seem distressed about it. He seemed calm and accepting. "And I have not served my due yet. But when the Key is here, I will be at ease, knowing I will be able to pass onto the realm."

'Haven't served his due'? He'd been here for ten fucking years!

And… if he didn't see the others, did he even know? Did he know what happened? Karliah was… she should be here too, right? She did insinuate that returning the Key would be the only way they could reunite, but once Brynjolf saw the ghosts, he thought they would at least find each other here.

"You can't see the others. Not even Karliah?" Bryn scowled. It seemed like a cruel way for Nocturnal to make her followers serve. Why? Why keep them guarding this place all alone like this?

"Karliah?" Gallus's face suddenly fell. "Why? How… how long has it been? But… you're still alive. She wouldn't…"

"She's dead, Gallus," Brynjolf shook his head somberly. He was not going to tell him that he killed her. That would just be insanely stupid to reveal. "It's been… ten years. She asked me to return the Key. Mercer is dead too."

There was silence for a while. Gallus seemed to contemplate something for a long time, or maybe he was mourning. Was he though? Karliah's death would just make it more likely that they would reunite soon.

Though until now, Brynjolf didn't really think about this too much – Karliah would be here. And so would Mercer. The aggressive ghosts he might encounter here might not be the worst thing, unfortunately.

"Then… we will all meet again in Evergloam sooner than I thought. And whatever comes of it, there is no turning back now," Gallus didn't look at Bryn as he spoke, he was staring into the ground instead. It was understandable that he was not overly excited. The mess this 'Trinity' had caused and all those tricks and schemes they had amongst each other – that would not be a pleasant thing to deal with in the afterlife, whatever awaited them in that Evergloam of theirs. "Ten years, huh?" he shook his head almost in disbelief. Was it a lot or not enough?

"Aye. Ten years. Did you not know?" Bryn knew that time in confinement got funny, but he must have at least had an idea, right?

"Everything is different here, Brynjolf. Everything feels different. Time, the air, magic, even the presence of the living." Gallus fell silent once more after that, but right as Brynjolf took a breath to talk more, he interrupted him. "Tell me what happened."

Well… he could do that. All up until how Karliah died. He was going to keep up the bandit ambush charade in front of Gallus too. Brynjolf liked the man, but he didn't know him that well. He wasn't sure how he would react.

"I will. Can you… take me where I need to go?" Bryn asked. The halls were confusing and he sometimes felt like he was walking in circles. He could use a guide while he talked.

Another nod was Gallus's only answer for now. That was enough. Brynjolf wasn't sure if he even wanted to learn more about this place. All of this was just making him feel guilty. For something he thought he would not feel guilty for anymore. He only felt like that once – when Karliah revealed everything to him and Bishop in that training hall. And now he couldn't shake the guilt.

He was accused of being passive? And now this one time he wasn't, the things he set in motion by his dealings with Karliah, those were laying on his conscience heavily.

The ghosts here were reverently waiting for their Evergloam, serving dutifully until they paid for all the power and fortune they gained in life.

Mercer was here against his will. He was tricked into it.

And Brynjolf had no small part in this.

No small part in the fact that Mercer never got the chance to escape like he wanted.

And now he was here somewhere, suffering, knowing that what awaited him after was only more suffering because of the overlord he disdained. Brynjolf knew the feeling well. It was somewhat ridiculous that now he felt sorry for his own overlord.

But nobody deserved to be subjected to this.

…

This place was so fucking frustrating.

Gallus just… disappeared. Out of the blue. Brynjolf managed to tell him about Mercer's stranglehold on the Guild, but Gallus only nodded in understanding. He murmured something about 'actions' being 'necessary', but Bryn didn't want to think too much of this. He didn't want to think about the fact that the ideal he was trying to get the Guild back to was just a gilded charade too while Mercer did all the shit he did later, only secretly.

It didn't mean that Brynjolf's efforts would end up the same, right?

He got all the way to the Eyes and the confrontation at the cistern before Gallus vanished. And right after that, another aggressive ghost appeared somewhere. It was starting to look like not only the ghosts were prevented from seeing each other. Bryn only got to see one at a time as well. Strange. Nocturnal took the solitude duty seriously, it seemed like.

Brynjolf dealt with the ghost. Then he encountered a few more that just begged him to return the Key. And then a couple more aggressive ones. This place was confusing. And dismal. But he finally felt like he was making some progress with the route Gallus sent him on.

Until he reached a strange room.

He couldn't really see much. It was almost pitch black. But there were illuminated places there. It was strange, he couldn't see the source of those lights and they did not spill around or dim gradually. It was black in one place and bright only an inch away. That was some strange magic.

Well… he would definitely stumble onto something in the dark spots. What if there were some traps or holes? He just needed to find his way towards the light bits as carefully as he could.

He made a few careful steps, only lightly gouging what was under his feet with a tip of his shoe before he was confident he could walk there. This way it would take ages to get to the bright spot, but what else was there? It may have felt like just stone ground, but he didn't trust it. He didn't trust anything here.

It took a long time, but he finally reached the light. He could see only the stony floor there and nothing else. Maybe the whole area was just nothing. But he couldn't risk that.

The second he stepped into the light though, his whole body began to burn intensely. It was as if he had suddenly stepped into a fireplace! The burning was so intense, he jumped back into the shadows so suddenly, he stumbled and fell over onto his back.

Fuck. What kind of an annoying game was Nocturnal playing here?

"Shadows hide you. Protect you."

Brynjolf couldn't see anything in the black, but he recognized the voice instantly. There was no question about it, even if he couldn't see her. Her ghostly form didn't even glow enough to penetrate the darkness.

"Thank you for coming here, Brynjolf. I knew you would. You were the only one I could entrust this to," Karliah spoke quietly.

Fuck. After everything he had seen, everything he had learned, her voice was grating and infuriating.

"Why?! Why me?" he snarled. "I'm the one that killed you!"

"I know. Absurd, isn't it? But it's true. You see them all here and you know what must be done. I know you understand that the Key must be returned," she continued to speak into the darkness.

Brynjolf collected himself off the ground, remaining in the shadows. He was not going back there into the light. His body still burned a bit from that.

"Yeah, I see them, lass. I see them all. And you're right," he nodded somberly. "But this is all on you. You brought Gallus here, even if you convinced him it's something he wants. You were so blinded by restoring your Trinity that you doomed Mercer. You brought him to this order of yours so he could steal the Key and trap people here. You… you were going to do this to me all over again. To my family! You were going to trap them here too." He couldn't stop once he got started. There was still so much anger in him after all that happened.

"Not trapped! The Key was supposed to be returned!" Karliah protested. "They would gain so much and they would…"

"Don't start with me, lass!" Brynjolf snarled again.

She stopped for a moment, but her voice bore just as much edge as his did when she spoke again.

"You expect regret from me? Admission of guilt and wrongdoing? You won't get that, Brynjolf. I do not regret my actions or my plan. I brought Gallus to a path that protected both him and the Guild in dire times. I do not regret Mercer being here, not when it is the last thing he wanted. Any place, no matter how welcoming, becomes a cage when you wish nothing but to escape. He deserves no less."

Brynjolf only let out a disappointed scoff. Maybe Mercer deserved something bad for how he treated people. Not maybe. Certainly. But nobody deserved an eternity of anything. There was no crime great enough.

"I wanted your family to stay your family," Karliah sighed wistfully. "I wanted to bring them all to the shadows and to keep them safe. Did you not see for yourself? The shadows protect us."

"Regular shadows do that fine all on their own. Relying on your bullshit would do us no favors. And at what cost? I'd rather suffer the light." He marched once more towards the illuminated area. He knew what would happen. Why would he even try? He wasn't usually so… dramatic, but this place was getting to him. And Karliah making excuses for it just made it worse.

He let out a cry of pain as the burning instantly enveloped him and he took a step back into the darkness. He thought he was more ready for it this time, but he couldn't be.

"This is her place, Brynjolf. You have to play by her rules," Karliah spoke quietly once more. Her voice was always so calm and sometimes he could swear he could hear all the pain she had suffered in it. But was it enough? Was it enough for him to ever forgive her? Seeing all this, he could not stop to imagine his own people here. He couldn't get past that.

But she was right. That display was for none and naught.

"I can lead you through. If you… if you trust me," Karliah asked carefully.

Did he need her to? He would just stick to the dark. But… there could be holes or traps. There could be anything. But the question made him angry again.

"I cannot ever trust you again after everything you've done, lass," he growled. "But I know what you want. And my death would not serve your… plans," he almost spat the last word.

"Aye… I suppose you will never understand my position. I am… sorry I couldn't see it. But I know you will do the right thing. And I never wished you harm, Brynjolf. Not even after you slit my throat."

How fucking gracious of you.

"Come. Follow my voice. You are getting nearer the vault."

Fine. For the last time he would follow her. For the last time he would trust that she wished him or those around him no harm, only because he knew the truth now. At least he thought as much. There was a small part of him that always suspected her from having some other elaborate plan concocted.

She spoke to him the whole time, telling him where to step, where to side-step. With her help, he managed to traverse the darkness until they reached a door.

He expected Karliah to disappear. He was looking forward to it. But she didn't. When he opened the door, the dim light of a narrow hallway illuminated them both at last. He could finally see. But that only meant he could see her face as well.

It was… not what he expected.

She looked just as broken as how he left her. How he killed her. He would never forget that expression of hers.

"Brynjolf… thank you. Sincerely. I… was worried. I can't pretend I wasn't. I know you would do the right thing but… how could I not worry? Thank you for letting us pass on. Eventually. Thank you for… for being strong enough to resist the temptation of the Key. Like few of us are."

Brynjolf only let out a sigh. He was still sorry that he had to kill her. He did the right thing, but… he just wished she gave him another option.

"I hope you two will get to reunite again, in whatever mess that Evergloam is. That's all I can wish for you, lass. You get no admissions of guilt from me either," he shook his head somberly. He did nothing wrong and she believed the same of herself. What else was there to do but whatever they could to cause as little harm as possible to others? Like the people stuck here, including her.

"I understand. I will… I will leave your sight. With my gratitude. And advice, for both our sake's," Karliah smiled softly. "The Key, leaving it here, it is an act of compassion. Nocturnal ensures we prosper in life, but here, in this place, we dispose of the material, we reject it. All for what we all ache for. For what she loves the most. Remember that."

"Is that a riddle, lass?" Brynjolf scoffed. What kind of vague, cryptic shit was that?

"No, Brynjolf. It's an answer."

…

Karliah disappeared soon after Brynjolf headed forth.

It was for the best. He was glad to keep his word, but he was even more glad to never see her again.

She wasn't lying. It was an answer. After more battles and pleading ghosts, Brynjolf came across a statue to Nocturnal or a shrine. There were drakes on it, along with some gems. Tempting. But he promised the ghosts he was not here to steal. And he remembered Karliah's words.

He ignored the 'material' and instead looked around every shadowy corner he could find in the chamber – what Nocturnal loved the most. In the end, he found a lever at the statue's back. When he pulled it, the lights suddenly seemed to dim and a door opened behind him. A new path.

He was proud of his progress. Despite getting slashed by the ghosts a few times, and still feeling chilled and somewhat stiff, he was doing well. He hoped he was near his goal already.

But now, his pride became his fall. Literally.

It was the oldest trick in the book – a grate above a circular hole in the ground. A clear trap. But there was no one to pull any levers and open the grate from under him. He should have known better – this place was full of strange magic and ghosts he couldn't see.

And so now, he found himself at the bottom of a pit.

Luckily it wasn't deep enough for him to get really hurt, but he was pretty sure he would be just one huge bruise tomorrow.

The worst part, however, was the fact that he had no way out.

He couldn't scale the wall. He should have brought a grappling hook, but he didn't think he'd need it. Short-sighted. Maybe there was some hidden trigger for something that could help him on the Nightingale armor. He still felt like he didn't know all its tricks. He knew there was the key hidden in the glove, along with a lockpick and a small needle or blade or whatever it was. Maybe there were other things. He didn't wear this thing much not to raise questions about it in the Guild, but he thought it would be useful to have here.

But even before he fell into this trap, the room above was a dead end. He didn't see any other doors or passages. Maybe there was something hidden there. Or here. He really had no idea. He kept feeling around the walls, but he found nothing.

"Are you even surprised, Bryn?"

Another familiar voice rang through the chamber, through the hole Brynjolf was stuck in. He looked up instantly, but he didn't even need to do that. He knew who was there, looking down at him.

"Mercer," Bryn let out a sigh. He had seen this coming once he realized what this place was and who it held. He still felt his body shudder at Mercer's presence. He was dreading this. There was a lot of anger and hate there. But there was also a lot of guilt.

"This is what that bitch doomed me to. Some Daedric cunt holding me captive with tricks and schemes. Did you think she'd treat you any different?"

Mercer's dark purple form disappeared soon from sight, but before Bryn knew, it re-emerged from the wall of the circular pit he was in, stepping right in front of him.

"You sold yourself to her, knowing what waited for you," Brynjolf shook his head.

"Maybe. Maybe I was tricked and lied to. Maybe by that whore, maybe by Gallus, take your pick. Or maybe it's all my own fault. Does it fucking matter, Bryn?" Mercer scoffed as he folded his arms across his chest with a permanent scowl on his face. "Is this what I deserved?"

"No. It's not," Brynjolf shook his head again, this time much more resolutely.

"You were my right hand and we became enemies. What for? What the fuck was all that for?" he growled.

"You hurt my family! You held them hostage in fear and blackmail!" Brynjolf scowled.

"I had to. I always had to. You'll see. She'll do it too," Mercer growled. 'She'?

Oh! Mercer didn't know. The last thing he knew was the confrontation at the cistern. That was when he died.

"You're not one of her 'chosen'," Mercer looked him over briefly. "I knew you had some sense in you. But you wear that fucking getup and you have the Key. Why? Bryn, don't try to trick them. You don't wanna end up here."

That was… a little touching that Mercer cared to warn him. Instead of laughing at him or something.

"I killed her," Bryn admitted. Mercer's face instantly twisted in shock. "She tried to subjugate me. My people. After all you've put us through, she wanted to chain us to… this. I couldn't let that happen."

"You always protected them to the last," Mercer nodded thoughtfully. "It's a fucking relief that you saw through her shit in the end. You just couldn't see that sooner, could you, you fucker?" He scoffed with a hint of desperate amusement in his voice.

"You couldn't just tell me, could you?" Brynjolf scowled at him promptly.

"That I killed Gallus because we were promised fortune and safety? You think I fucking should have?" Mercer growled.

"Don't play games. This could have ended a lot differently. With a lot fewer lives lost. A lot of it's on you." If Mercer just explained everything that happened, Brynjolf was pretty sure he would understand. But… it was hard to say. Would he? Mercer was tormenting everyone and Karliah was reaching out to save them. Who would he have believed?

"Maybe. But what the fuck do maybes matter?" Mercer scoffed. "Why did you come here, Bryn? Take that fucking Key and get out of here. Don't be her lapdog."

"I made a last promise to the woman I killed," Brynjolf sighed. "And these people, including you, they need to be able to move on to the afterlife properly."

"I don't give a fuck, Bryn! You think it will be any better for me there? For any of us? That Daedric whore will just pull the strings more in that world! She will torment me forever for betraying her fucking oath. You're only dooming me more. And you're not helping anyone here either," Frey snarled hatefully.

"You're wrong. Mercer, all three of you have made a fucking mess after mess, you constantly betrayed each other and played with shit that was beyond all of you. I'm ending it. No, none of you deserve any of this, but you all made your beds. I won't play the same games you did. Not here and not back at the Guild. The Key goes back. And the Guild… the Guild can function without your fucked up tactics," Brynjolf's anger diminished as he spoke until it ended only in resignation. Whatever would happen would happen. Maybe Mercer was right, maybe it would be impossible. And maybe the lies Bryn had already sown would be his undoing. But he was just trying to do his best with what he had.

"You better pray it will be over, Bryn. You can never be sure of what plans the bitch made to make your life miserable, to make you all submit," Mercer scowled. That was… unlikely. At least Brynjolf thought so. Karliah was getting desperate by the end. Her own plan for the Trinity backfired dismally and Bryn knew it was because she was pressured by him for answers. He doubted she would have managed to make contingency plans for brainwashing his people and not think through the main plan.

But whatever the case, he was going to protect his family no matter what.

"Do you know how to get out of here, Mercer?" Bryn sighed. He just wanted to finish this.

"No. How the fuck should I know? You think I explore this fucking place and try to understand that Daedric whore or shit like that? I will be here for however fucking long she thinks I should suffer the darkness, but I will not make this shit easy for her! I don't 'guard' shit for her. I don't 'learn' shit for her. Ever!"

Brynjolf nodded in understanding, but he did not even want to imagine what lay in store for Mercer and his defiance. The guilt enveloped him once more and he just wanted to stop looking at his old friend. His new enemy. His tormentor and the victim of his betrayal.

"Whatever happens to you, I wish you... strength." Wishing him luck seemed like the worst thing he could wish him, given the circumstances.

"Take care of our people, Bryn. Nobody else will, not like you do. And watch the shadows."

Mercer's words rang ominously in his ears, but his form disappeared again.

Now Brynjolf was alone in the pit once more. Heh, 'watch the shadows'. He had learned that already. Nocturnal loved her magic shadows in this place. This was the only room that was actually well-lit. Even the pit was. There were two oil lamps on the ceiling and…

Oh!

Nocturnal wanted darkness and shadows, right?

Brynjolf took his sling from his belt and loaded a pebble inside it. He started to move his hand rapidly to get the momentum going, before he launched the pebble at one of the lamps. It broke, of course it did, and the oil spilled down onto the stone below as the flame inside went out. Good. One down.

He repeated the process for the other lamp, though that one didn't go out. The oil spilled on the ground, but it remained on fire. Well… everything was made of stone here. It would stop.

The fire still illuminated the chamber, but Brynjolf just waited patiently. And eventually, the room began dimming more and more until there was finally nothing left.

When Brynjolf was enveloped in darkness, he began to doubt his own tactic. What now?

But a moment later, there was a click. And then, the floor he was on – the bottom of the pit – it began to move and shift. Brynjolf stumbled a little on the spot from the start, but it was going down very slowly, moving along the circular walls.

It was dark for a while, but he eventually saw a light. It wasn't the usual fiery light of torches or oil lamps though. It was dark purple, just like the ghosts, and as the platform moved lower, it revealed a room below.

This had to be it. There were braziers lit with purple flame everywhere and in the middle of the room, he could see another circular gate. Not a grate this time – it was black, metal and solid. And shimmery. It actually looked kind of like the metal the chain on the Nightingale armor was made of.

The platform came all the way down at last and he stepped away from it. Fuck, he hoped he would not get trapped here. There were no exits here either.

He approached the only thing in the room – the gate on the ground. And there it was. A keyhole.

This must have been it – what else would be this prominent and ominous in such a place? This was the vault he was supposed to return the Key into. His journey was almost over, his promise fulfilled.

He could finally leave this bullshit behind him.

He took the Key from his pouch and he inserted it inside. Then immediately he stepped back. Whatever this thing was going to open, he was not going to be too near it.

A purple light suddenly shone through the grooves around the circular gate, and then it began to retract. It only revealed a confusing swirly mess with purple glow. When he looked at it for too long, his head hurt.

What now?

"Thank you, thief," a voice echoed behind him. He turned around sharply, only to see the first ghost he had encountered in this place – that woman.

"What do I do now?" Brynjolf promptly asked. He wasn't sure.

"Whatever you want. You are not bound here. We… we go through the Ebonmere."

We?

The woman only walked towards the swirling lights on the floor and she stepped into them. She was gone right away. And then, another ghost appeared and did the same, calling out a brief 'thank you' to Brynjolf in the process.

One by one they approached and dissolved, all glad that they could pass on.

Not all of them did though.

Brynjolf never saw Mercer or Karliah or Gallus again. He had no idea how long they had to pay their dues for, but they certainly haven't paid up yet.

One day, only the Prince knew when, they would all meet in the Evergloam.

And that would be one fucking mess even Nocturnal probably didn't want to deal with.

…

Brynjolf looked around the cistern, watching his family scurry about.

Some were playing cards, some were just talking, maybe plotting and scheming, and some were sorting through their hard-earned findings.

He himself managed to finally get back last night. Leaving the Sepulcher was not nearly as bad as going in. And he only saw a few ghosts on his way back. None of them wanted to kill him now. But there was no sign of anyone familiar anymore.

He still thought about it – all the people trapped there, or trapped in the Evergloam. Mercer was right – there was no difference. One cage for another. Only some chose that cage.

He couldn't stop thinking about all of these people, trapped there too. His family, his friends and confidants.

He had never been more sure.

He did the right thing. He could not let Karliah sway them, he could not let her live, not when she wouldn't let go. And he did all he could for her in there, he made sure she had the best chance to reunite with Gallus.

Whether Gallus himself wanted it, or whether Mercer's presence would ruin everything for them, it was their mess. It was out of Brynjolf's hands. And he couldn't be more relieved.

But as always, things persisted. Feelings and thoughts that were hard to get out of his head.

The regret and guilt were still there about Mercer's fate. Maybe he should have been less decisive when it came to standing up to the man. Maybe he should have been more decisive. Maybe he could have changed this.

Even now, he still couldn't decide what he should have done. Not even with such hindsight.

Could someone like him ever be a good leader? Would he be able to look after his family in the end?

How will this new era treat them all? Could they really thrive now? They had the money, they had the connections, but he knew it all too well now. It was a slippery slope. And he himself could turn into another Mercer, another Karliah. They were all the same. All did awful things and told themselves they were protecting the Guild.

Would he be the same?

There was not much use in pondering though. Only time would tell.

And all he could do now was to try and guide them the best way he could.

Another Author's Note:

In case any of you wish to re-read the Thieves Guild plotline, it's… well, everywhere :D There's a lot of it and if you want to read all of it, it's probably best to refer to the Plotline summaries that outline the chapters and mention all the numbers.

As for this side story, the most important chapters would be found in the second book. First of all the two separate chapters: XXXVI (36) – The One That Got Away With It and LXVII (67) – The Chosen. And then there is the finalization of the plotline (in the main story at least) starting with chapter LXXXV (85) – Within Her Grasp until chapter XCIV (94) – The Priceless Freedom.

That's about it. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this side story (or a small anthology series, you could say). I'm excited to share the next one.