Deep in the forested wilds of Falkreath Hold sat the bland and overlooked Twilight Sepulcher, entrance into Nocturnal's realm—the Evergloam.
They hadn't returned to the Twilight Sepulcher since Macayla returned the Skeleton Key and restored the Ebonmere—there had been no reason to return, and the place didn't hold pleasant memories for them since Nocturnal had tried to keep Macayla's soul to herself. And now they were back.
On arriving at the dead end with a single door set into a rock wall and a stream trickling down to a small pool, they found a dark gray horse; it looked up at them as they reined theirs to a stop.
"That must be Karliah's," Brynjolf said.
Macayla looked around—she didn't see or feel anything threatening. "The danger must be inside; it's not out here."
"That's not comforting."
They dismounted, tied their horses up close to Karliah's, and headed for the door. The tunnel they descended through remained the same as the last time they passed through but when they entered the massive chamber, purple and dark blue flames still burned in the large braziers, the colored veil still covered the entrance to the Ebonmere, and the air still thrived with energy, raising the goosebumps on Macayla's arms.
Karliah sat at the foot of the stairs; she jumped to her feet at the sight of them and headed for them. The gray-skinned Dark Elf with lavender eyes looked nervous.
"Do you know what's going on?" Macayla asked.
The Dunmer shook her head. "No; I was trying to break into a house when I got the feeling to come here. I felt like we should go in together."
Macayla heard the hesitation in her voice—she didn't want to go in alone. She looked up at the semi-circular entrance and the purple and dark blue veil. The last time she went in there, she almost didn't come out. She was honestly scared to go back in and face Nocturnal.
Brynjolf suddenly grabbed her hand, and she looked at him. He gave her a warm, encouraging smile, understanding her hesitancy. "I'll defy her again if I have to."
"So will I," Karliah said.
She felt stronger with their declarations—even though she hoped they wouldn't be forced to show them. Macayla took in a steadying breath, then the Nightingale Trinity headed up the stone stairs. They didn't hesitate to step into the veil and entered the circular room illuminated by a soft blue and a pool of purple liquid inside a circle of silver.
Revisiting the room brought back the memories of her emotions: feeling hurt and betrayed by Brynjolf and Karliah, and fear that her feelings for Brynjolf weren't her own but Nocturnal's. Brynjolf's hand clenched hers quickly as his memories of this room hit him, too.
The Nightingales approached the Ebonmere and waited for the Daedric Lord to appear.
Almost immediately, the purple waters swirled, and light shined upward as a portal opened up. Rising up out of a flurry of ravens was the beautiful Daedric Lord they served. She wore the skin-bearing dress her statue wore, but this one was as black as night; two ravens were perched on either arm.
They bowed low in respect.
"My Nightingales, you come when called; how admirable," she said, her voice low like she was bored but tinged with the hint of her power.
"My Lady, we are yours to command," Karliah said.
"As I know, Karliah."
Macayla ground her teeth in irritation; Nocturnal held her power over her servants' heads as a weapon. Were all Daedric Lords like this?
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Oblivion's Shadow
FanfictionIt has been five years since Macayla became the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild in Riften and things have never looked better. But the future of the Guild and all of Tamriel is uncertain when the Nightingales are called back to Nocturnal; she gives...
