Oblivion's Shadow

VI. A Shining Light

Karliah had never felt more paranoid, even when she was running for her life because of Mercer Frey using the Guild to hunt her down and kill her. Then, she knew how to recognize danger by identifying a Guild member; now, she wasn't sure she could look at anybody and rely on them not to tell dremora if tortured for information about sightings of them.

Fortunately, she had never had to meet a dremora, but she didn't know what to expect; the scarce writings described them as being red and black-skinned, with sharp horns and pointed ears; deep voices twisted by their guttural language; tall, broad, and either expert magic-wielders or deadly fighters driven by bloodlust. She didn't know if they could hide in plain sight, become invisible, or manipulate minds into not seeing them. With magic-wielders, one never knew. One thing all the writings agreed on: dremora were heartless, slaughtering any who crossed them.

Her eyes shot to every tree, bush, or boulder to come in sight as they made their way to Mount Kilkreath to Meridia's Temple; she looked for any anomaly, any color that didn't belong in nature, any form hiding. Quite a few times, Karliah nearly jumped out of her skin when a deer suddenly looked up or a fox shot out of some underbrush.

When they left Riften, they had decided to avoid roads—they were less likely seen walking through the wilderness; they would also refrain from going into any type of settlement—they would make camp away from civilization. They might send one into town to pick up any rumors concerning dremora sightings. So far, they had only seen wildlife; no sign of dremora.

Throughout the journey to Mount Kilkreath near Solitude, it was quiet amongst the Nightingale Trinity. The married couple behind her didn't say much, other than a few brief comments to her or to each other. Macayla's and Brynjolf's eyes were probably just as jumpy as hers. Their thoughts were probably on Aadalyn and what they could do to keep their daughter safe.

Nocturnal being back in Macayla didn't help, either. She really hoped the Daedric Lord's presence wouldn't put strain on their connection; Macayla and Brynjolf were meant to be together.

***

When they stopped for the third night, Mount Kilkreath was a two-day journey away. Since they were now in Haafingar Hold, Macayla directed them up into the mountains to what she considered a safer location to make camp: no one passing by would be able to see their campfire, sabre cats and bears wouldn't be able to sneak up on them, and they had a way out if something breached their camp.

After a small and quick meal, Karliah took the first watch—Macayla had taken the first night and Brynjolf the next. The married couple quickly fell asleep, Macayla tucked securely into Brynjolf's side.

She watched them sleep, a sad longing stretching her soul, which turned into guilt. Many times, it hurt seeing them together, since it made her remember her time with Gallus. She sorely missed him—his smile, the softness of his voice, his arms around her...

She pulled her legs in and wrapped her arms around her knees. Karliah couldn't be resentful of her friends for their love, but she wished she had what they did.

***

Mount Kilkreath was a crumbling ruin: the stone was cracked, arches had fallen, and weeds sprung through the cracks. An enormous statue of a winged-woman stood at the top, her arms reaching toward the sky and hands looking like they held the sun. Meridia.

They headed up the flights of stairs to reach the top; her gigantic form had to rise at least 30 feet above them and at her feet sat a pedestal, like it used to hold something.