Back to the Rift
The air of Riften was less foul this time of year. The smell of sewage and the fishery was rather mild and able to be ignored. Sonin pulled her cloak tightly around her to keep the chill out. Her visit here would be brief, but there were ends that needed to be tied. Brynjolf would need to know about her next steps. It wouldn’t be easy to see him again after so long away.
The familiar sound of metal banging on metal filled her ears as she looked around the market for the thief. Seeing that he wasn’t at his stall, peddling wares, she followed the sound of blacksmithing. It had been so long now since she worked with metal. Her hands nearly ached to bend some pieces to enchant. Finally, she could see the blacksmith, the fire he worked over shimmering in an unnatural manner.
“Good morning,” she spoke to the man as she approached.
“Aye,” he paused his hammering to look at her, “Fine day,” he paused and smirked, “Even finer view.”
“You flatter me,” she offered a soft smile, “Your fire there...seems rather interesting.”
“Ah,” he looked back at the forge, “You have a good eye young lady. I use fire salts to keep it hot. Just about to run out though.”
“Hm. I might be able to help with that,” Sonin put a hand on her hip.
“There’s coin in it for you for sure,” he offered.
“No need. I’m happy to help where I can,” she looked at the sword he was working on, “That’s a rather fine piece. Nice to see that there are still talented smiths working with iron.”
“You have experience smithing?” He tilted his head a little as he questioned her.
“Aye, though it’s limited to smaller items like jewelry and daggers,” she shrugged a bit, “Could never get the hang of larger weapons.”
The soot-covered man chuckled at that, “Tell you what, bring me some fire salts and I’ll show you a way around a sword.”
“Oh, promise?” She raised a brow that made the man choke on his own spit, “See you around.” She waved a bit as she headed down to the Flagon.
…
Something was wrong. The air of the Flagon felt thick with tension. Everyone was on their guard, tense. Dirge was keeping his weapon in his hand as she approached.
“Relax Dirge,” she held her empty hands up, “Just an old friend. Is Bryn around?”
“He’s in the back,” Dirge didn’t drop his stance.
“May I pass?” Sonin questioned.
“No,” he replied shortly.
“Seriously?” She put a hands on her hips, “I think he would be unhappy to hear you kept me out.”
“Guild business. Not yours,” he shrugged.
“Alright then. Guess we can do this the hard way since you want to threaten me like this,” she lit her hands up.
Delvin’s voice sounded off before they could fight, “WOAH WOAH,” he ran over and put his hand on Dirge’s shoulder, “Sonin. We thought you died.”
“Debatable,” she smiled at him, “I need to see Bryn.”
“Of course,” he waved his hand for her to follow him, “but you should know, the guild is in a bad way right now. Mercer...well I think it would be best to hear it from Bryn.”
The Cistern was a mess, people looking to the ground. Brynjolf was speaking in harsh tones to a dunmer woman with striking purple eyes. The words in his mouth died as his eyes locked onto her. The mystery woman tilted her head, then her body followed as Brynjolf raced away from her.
Sonin didn’t get out a word before he was picking her up and spinning her around in tight circles. His eyes were wet as he set her down and clung to her body, his head shoved into the crook of her neck.
“I-I thought,” the words were lost in her skin.
“I know,” she cooed and pet the back of his head, “I know. There’s so much to say, but I’m afraid I don’t have all the time or words. Do you have a moment?”
“Ah,” he finally moved away but kept his hands on her, “I fear I may not. The guild is in quite the situation right now. Mercer...he stole everything from under us. He tried to have me killed.”
“The bastard,” Sonin frowned deeply, “I’m glad you are safe for the moment then.”
“I know you just got back but...do you think you’d be able to help me track him down?” He asked.
“I’m so sorry Bryn,” she squeezed his arms, “But I really can’t. I didn’t really have the time for this stop but I couldn’t go back to the College without seeing you.”
“What’s wrong lass?” He questioned.
“I didn’t win my fight Bryn. Alduin. He’s still a threat. I think the college is the only place to hold any answers for me and I must head there before dawn,” she tore her eyes from him, “What I said in my letter still holds true. I may still die...and I want you to move on from me.”
Brynjolf didn’t keep the hurt from his tone, “What are you saying, lass?”
“We both know what I’m saying,” Sonin gave a fake smile, “I have no doubt I’m more prepared for this fight, but anything may happen.”
“Then I’ll wait for you then,” he stood his ground.
“No Bryn,” she dropped her hands, “It’s over. I wanted to tell you this in person.”
“Lass,” he was on the verge of pleading.
“I promise if I make it through this battle, I will help you find Mercer. You have my word as Thane,” she promised.
“I don’t want your word as Thane-,” he began.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Sonin turned away from his broken face, “I-I have to go now.”
Brynjolf watched her run away, his heart went with her.