It was sweltering outside. Even as dry as the air was, Sayma was uncomfortable as she walked back down the street toward the tiny home in Ben Erai. Without thinking about it she removed her hood and began to unfasten her armor at the neck.
I don’t know what I did to get so overheated. I didn’t have to fight anything in the oasis; and it didn’t even take that long to get in and out of there. All I’ve done is walk back. Maybe it’s just the excitement. I can’t believe I finally have this cowl in my possession.
She was looking forward to having something to drink, maybe a pleasant conversation with Brynjolf at the rooftop table. Maybe they would catch a breeze once it began to get dark. She wanted to sleep, soundly, before they went back to Skyrim. As she approached her home she broke into a trot, and started calling out to him even as she pushed the door open.
“I got it, Bryn! I got the Cowl!”
She caught her breath. His back was to her, and he was wiping his face with a cloth; his long red hair hung down his pale back. Once again she found her pulse accelerating at the sight of him. He may have been ten years her senior, more than forty years old, but he was still as muscular and beautiful as a man half his age.
He turned around at the sound of the door and smiled. Sayma gasped. He’d trimmed his beard back, almost completely off.
“I’m glad you’re back in one piece. I hope you don’t mind that I’m running about the place topless.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Couldn’t get the sand out without making mud of it, so the next best choice was to cut most of it off. It’ll be back by tomorrow.”
Sayma approached him and without thinking, reached up to run her fingers down his cheek. It hadn’t been her imagination. He did look younger. She remembered how he had been when she first met him, his skin rough with fatigue and lack of care. He had looked older then, and angrier.
“You look younger than me. How can it be, Brynjolf? How can you look younger now than you did two years ago?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it was something about being a vampire. I changed, over the course of a few months. What do you think?”
She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I think you’re glorious,” she breathed quietly.
What am I doing? He doesn’t want this kind of attention. We’re here to rescue his old flame from the Soul Cairn, nothing more.
But he smiled at her, his eyes gentle.
“Truly? I always wondered what Andante saw in me, how he looked past the ratty old thief. All I need is to put the warrior’s braid back in my hair and I’d look like I did when I was a young man. I never really earned the braid, of course, but I wore one just to spite my father, mostly.” He chuckled. “Dynny liked it, though.”
Sayma’s heart fell. Here he is, talking about his men. How can I compete with that?
“Oh! You distracted me, and I almost forgot. Take a look!” She pulled the Cowl out of her pack and handed it to him. “I sure hope it will have been worth everything it took to get it. We can go home now and find Nocturnal, and if she honors her word…”
Brynjolf examined the Gray Cowl carefully, turning it over and over in his hands. “It’s Daedric all right.” Then he chuckled. “I’d try it on but after all your nice words I don’t think I want to look like someone else right now.”
Sayma wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen next, but it certainly wasn’t the thing that actually did happen.
He approached her, smiling, took her hood and cape from her, and placed them on a chair along with the Cowl. “Here, let me take those.” He relieved Sayma of her swords and put them aside as well, and then to her complete shock, slowly began unfastening the gauntlets she wore.
“Bryn, what…?” she started to ask; but he shook his head.
“Hush.”
He finished removing her gauntlets, and gave her a small smile before turning to place them on the chair as well. Then he moved back to the table, on which rested a bowl of water from the keg, and moistened a cloth in it.
“Here. This will feel better,” he said quietly, taking her hands one at a time and washing them off. It did feel better, too; she was hot, and sticky, and tired, and it seemed as though this was the first bit of gentleness she’d experienced in a very long time.
Sayma couldn’t move. She was mesmerized by the look of him, by not knowing what he was thinking. She’d been hoping, wildly hoping, that the encounter they’d begun in the Crypt was not the only one they would ever have again. But she didn’t deserve to make a move. She didn’t have the right. She needed to wait, and watch, and see.
“You know,” he said softly as he wiped her hands and arms, “it means so much that you would do all this for Dynjyl. More than I have words for. I know it must have been hard to learn about him the way you did, right after finding out about Andante. I know you saw how we were together, even briefly, and it must have been a shock.”
She frowned. “Well if I’m being honest… yes it was. I’m sorry.”
“Hush now. No apologies. I understand.” He grinned, a lopsided smile. “It’s like I told you before. I started out just wanting to use him, and it ended with him leaving me breathless. But do you know what?”
Sayma wanted to cry. It was too hard to hear. But she swallowed hard and did her best to hide the hurt.
“No. What?”
He smiled again, and stepped closer.
“So do you. And you always have.” And with that he leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then nipping at her lower lip before returning his attentions to her armor. He slid it down from her shoulders first, slowly and carefully, and then eased her arms out of its sleeves. He washed her, gently, taking a moment to kiss each palm and the inner surface of each elbow, slipping her warm glances every so often. It felt wonderful to be cool, and clean, and yet the longer he took, the warmer she felt.
I wasn’t imagining things. That kiss in the crypt wasn’t just a fluke. He wants me still.
She started to kick at her boots, to get them off quickly, and he shook his head and smiled.
“Wait.”
He knelt in front of her and carefully pulled the boots off, stopping after each to massage the foot that had been in it. She had to fight back a groan when he pressed his heavy thumbs into her instep, watching her face as he released the tight spots there and along the base of her toes. Finally, he worked the legs of her armor down, and over each foot, taking an exquisitely tantalizing amount of time on each, washing and drying her as he went.
One of his large, warm hands trailed up her leg, along the inside of her thigh, as he rose from the floor. By the time he was fully standing, facing her, she was trembling.
He stepped closer, and smiled once more.
“It’s been too long, lass. I hoped maybe you got the message while we were in the crypt but…” His free arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her nearer, softly. “What do you say? Should we try it again?”
“Bryn.” Words failed her, utterly; the smile on his face said everything she’d hoped to hear since the day they’d first seen each other again. She was certain that her smile held the same sort of words. So instead of saying anything, she pressed herself against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
When she’d lived with him, in Riften, he’d always been rough. They had always seemed to be in a hurry, even if they had spent plenty of time. There had always been a hunger between them that rarely if ever was sated. But on this evening, Brynjolf was slow, and gentle, and calm; and he seemed a very different man than the one she’d last made love with on the night she had left him behind.
He is a different man in many ways, she thought when at last they were finished and resting together on the narrow bed in the tiny house. He’s had so many things happen to him. He feels more complete.
“Lass.”
“Yes?”
“Was that alright?”
She chuckled. “Brynjolf, I feel limp. I don’t believe I could move even if it was an emergency.” She turned her head to smile at him and to take in the smile in his brilliant green eyes.
He looked up at the ceiling and smiled, then sighed a contented sigh.
“Thank you, lass.”
“Thank you, Red.”
He turned and grinned at her, and for a moment she saw the mischievous man of twenty looking out from his eyes.
He called me lass.
They slept for a long time, after that, both of them exhausted from the stress and uncertainty and, at least in her case, fear. The next morning they rose early, gathered as much of the treasure as they could carry, secured the Cowl, and stepped out into the warm, dry day.
It’s time.
___
They stood together before the Ebonmere. Brynjolf had called out to Nocturnal, but thus far they’d had no response. Sayma stood well back in the shadows, shifting from leg to leg.
“I don’t mind telling you that I’m a bit nervous, Bryn.”
“Why?”
“I’m the missing Nightingale. The one she thinks isn’t whole. She could ruin me where I stand.”
Brynjolf frowned. “She could, but she’d better not even think about it.” He raised his voice. “Do you hear me, Nocturnal? You’d better not even think about harming a hair on her head. We got your damned Cowl. She got it. Here it is.” He pulled it out of a pocket and laid it on the edge of the Ebonmere’s dark stones.
A musical, disembodied voice chuckled.
“Now, Brynjolf,” Nocturnal said, “you know we have a bargain. An agreement. A contract, the terms of which were settled long ago.”
“Aye.”
Nocturnal chuckled. “Never one for ceremony, are you. That’s just as well. It’s what makes you unique. I promised you something in return for the Cowl.”
“You did. And I expect you to deliver.”
Sayma caught a flicker of light off to her right and turned to find herself staring up into the face of a handsome man who could only be one person in the universe. He gazed at her in a slightly amused and detached way, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You must be Dynjyl,” she whispered, smiling. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“Yes, I am.” He looked her over and nodded. “And you are Brynjolf’s special person. I can tell.”
Sayma shook her head. “Well I don’t know about that, but…” She grinned, and raised her voice. “Bryn. Turn around.”
“Hello, my dear,” Dynjyl called out. Brynjolf turned to look and a slow smile spread across his face.
“Dynny!” Brynjolf’s voice rose with happiness. “You’re here! You’re actually free.”
Sayma did her best to fade into the shadows, so that the two men could speak. She watched Brynjolf’s eyes, watched them warming with affection, and saw Dynjyl’s reflecting that same emotion. And she found herself surprised by the conclusion she reached, looking at them.
They loved each other once. They still care for each other but it’s not really love, not any more. It’s just warm memories and mutual admiration.
“Yes I am. Isn’t it wonderful? I don’t have long to be here, Brynjolf, but I’m glad to see you one more time. Nocturnal has granted me entry to the Evergloam and I am very ready to rest.” He turned to smile at Sayma, and then back to Brynjolf.
Dynjyl’s sharp and crisp tones softened, and a brilliant smile broke across his face.
“You have no idea what this feels like, Bryn. I’ve spent so long, so very many years, just assuming I would spend all the rest of days in the Soul Cairn. I had reconciled myself to that, and it was fine. But this, Bryn. To rest. Finally, to rest. It is such a gift. I am so grateful. You did this for me, both of you, and I have no adequate words. Thank you so much. For everything, now and… then.”
Brynjolf nodded.
“Andante was the one who realized there might be a way for you to leave the Soul Cairn. Sayma was the one who made it to Hammerfell to get the Cowl back.” He shook his head. “Dynny, I wish it had all been different.”
“Not this again, my foolish love. You and I were fortunate to meet when we did. I was the luckiest man in all of Tamriel that day.” His eyes shone.
“I felt that way too. I think you know that.”
Dynjyl smiled. “I know you did. We had our time together, and it was perfect. It lasted as long as it was meant to last. I wouldn’t have changed it for anything. But it’s been done for a long time now, Bryn. You know that.”
Brynjolf looked at him, sadly, and nodded. “Aye.”
“So. In spite of that, you’ve given me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. I’m free. Perhaps…”
He paused, shrugged his shoulders.
“Perhaps what, lad?”
Dynjyl smiled. It was a joyful smile, one that encompassed their past, and their present, and their future. Sayma’s heart ached at the bittersweet moment that it was. More sweet than bitter, she thought, but poignant all the same.
“I’ve learned things in the past little while, Brynjolf, about the Evergloam and what it means to become one with it. Things I never had a chance to learn from the Guild while I was alive. Perhaps you could visit my wife, one day, and explain to her that I will be there, and happy. You are one of three people in the world best equipped to do so.” He smiled again. “And tell her that I wish her to be happy as well, and always have.”
Sayma spoke, quietly, from behind them. “I’ll see it done, Dynjyl. You deserve that, and so does she.”
Dynjyl turned to her, nodded, and smiled. “Thank you. And please, take care of Brynjolf for me.”
Then he turned to face Brynjolf once again. “Now then. You’ve been trying to convince yourself that it was your fault I died, for all these years, even though you know it was my carelessness that was the real cause. It is time for you to let go of that, my dear boy. You’ve done what you could do, and now I can rest.”
Brynjolf opened and closed his mouth several times, starting to speak and not being able to voice the words. He stepped near to Dynjyl and reached out, then dropped his hand when he realized what he was doing. When he spoke, his voice was unsteady.
“I know with my mind that it was nobody’s fault, Dynny. Not really. It was just a thing that happened. But my heart will never stop telling me that I should have been able to keep you safe.” He shook his head and expelled a deep breath. He gave Dynjyl a small smile and spoke again, firmly. “I wish you didn’t have to go. But I’m happy that you are at peace. Finally. Rest well, my friend. Eyes open, Dynjyl. Walk with the shadows.”
“Goodbye, my dear. I will see you again when it is your time to come to the Evergloam.”
Sayma found her mind replaying the moment when Gallus had told Karliah much the same thing. She had to fight to suppress a sob.
Dynjyl smiled at both of them, then turned and stepped into the deep, deep blue and was no more.
Brynjolf stood staring into the pool of unfathomable magic energies, his head down and his hands clasped before him. Sayma watched him for any sign of distress, of pain; but there was nothing. After a few moments he sighed, quietly.
“Well. It’s done. I guess that’s that, lass. I thought maybe it would be something more. After all this time of wondering about him, thinking about him, it’s simply done. Just like that, he’s at rest, just like those spirits in Hammerfell. And it was because of you. Thank you.”
Sayma approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder, tentatively. Even following their beautiful previous evening she wasn’t certain how familiar she could be, where the line might still lie.
“No, Bryn. You know that if you hadn’t come to see Nocturnal first, none of it would have come about. And it was just as you told Dynjyl. It was Andante who…”
“It was Andante who did what now, did you say?”
The amused Imperial voice coming from behind them had both Sayma and Brynjolf whirling, their mouths falling open. Sayma was nearest the figure that stood leaning on one leg, his hands on his hips. She stared at his glowing spectral form, unable to quite believe what she was seeing.
“Andante?”
“Vitus, if you please, Sayma,” he said, grinning. “Or I could call you Dagnell if you’d prefer, Listener. Vitus Perdeti, of Bravil, most recently of Riften and Solitude and Castle Volkihar. At your service, as ever.”
Brynjolf moved forward one trembling step after another, and stopped a good distance away from them. For just a moment Sayma was afraid she was going to need to support him.
“Oh. Oh gods. Is it really you?”
“Hello, loverboy.”He stood beaming at Brynjolf. “As you see, it is I.”
“How? How is this even possible? I thought that…”
Exactly, Sayma thought, watching the two of them approach each other. How is it possible? He was a pile of ash. He was dead. He was a vampire. I thought he was gone, just completely gone.
Vitus laughed. “So did I, frankly. I never expected to see, hear or feel anything more after the sun rose that morning. I was more than just a little bit stunned to wake up and find myself being circled by Durnheviir and Dynny – who has taken good care of me in the interim, I might add. I didn’t really think there was anything left of me to go anywhere, much less the Soul Cairn. Or if there had been something left of me I’d have expected to be one of those wisp things flitting about like an annoying ancestor moth. Glimmering.” He grinned. “And once I realized I was there I certainly never expected to be set free again. But here I am.”
He leaned forward slightly and peered at Sayma, then back at Brynjolf, and chuckled. “Oho. Someone’s looking content. I see that things are going well for you two? Bravo!”
“Vitus!” Sayma snorted, feeling herself flushing. “Stendarr’s balls. Not even death improved you?” He grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows.
“Brynjolf,” Nocturnal’s disembodied chuckle rippled through the room. “Surely you realize that I am able to converse with other entities such as myself. As I suspected, neither Sithis nor Molag Bal was particularly attached to the soul of Vitus Perdeti. Sithis was annoyed with him that he never truly believed, and Molag Bal was strictly indifferent. I convinced them that what was left of him was not worth bickering over, and that I had use for him.”
“It still makes no sense,” Brynjolf breathed. “I thought that you had given up all of yourself, as a vampire.”
“Have you not felt Vitus Perdeti with you, all of this time, my Nightingale?” Nocturnal said, clearly amused. “I thought you more perceptive than that.”
Brynjolf’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
Vitus grinned. “Didn’t you feel me help you slit those mage’s throats when you were travelling with Roggi? Even Roggi noticed. It seems that I put a little more of myself into that ring than we’d imagined, loverboy. It anchored me, for lack of a better word. At least, it kept me out of the Void.”
“I did notice that, but it’s not exactly unusual to imagine someone’s presence once they’re gone. I didn’t think any more of it than that. I’m… glad. I’m very glad.” Brynjolf shook his head. “I’m still having a hard time to believe my eyes, but here you are. But there’s something I need to know.”
He took one step closer to the shade and looked him in the eyes. “Why did you do it, lad? Why? That’s what I don’t understand. You could have gotten away. I would have helped you. There weren’t that many of them. We could have run. Between the two of us we could have taken out the entire city if you’d wanted it. All you needed to do was ask. And not cure me. I would have…” he trailed off and shook his head. “You know I would have.”
Vitus looked down and smiled. Several moments passed, several long heartbeats, before he finally spoke, quietly and seriously.
“Bryn. You know I had to leave, if you’re honest with yourself. Think about who I am, loverboy. Not Andante, but … me. The man they were hunting. I couldn’t stay in the world. I shouldn’t have been in it in the first place.” He shrugged. “I know that sounds harsh. My father, according to anyone who could bring themselves to talk to me about him, was pure evil. If he hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have existed. That’s all I ever knew about him. I shouldn’t have existed. I never had anyone to show me how a man really ought to live. The Listener – Alisanne – she tried. She gave me a little bit of an anchor, for awhile, but she died and I was just a … a monster. That’s who I was until the Thalmor knocked the memories out of me.”
He looked up at Brynjolf and grinned. “But you showed me that there was a different way to be, loverboy. Oh didn’t we have fun.”
Brynjolf nodded, sadly. “We did.” Then he chuckled. “We certainly did.”
Vitus grinned back at him, but then turned serious. “I would have ended up hurting all of us. I could feel it, even while we were all standing outside on the beach that day, and my mind was showing me all the ways I could kill everyone in sight. I don’t believe I could have stopped myself from doing worse and worse things. I wanted to stop the sun, and I wanted… well, you saw what I did at the fort, remember?”
Brynjolf nodded. “You killed them all, lad. Every last one of them.”
“Yes. That. That kind of thing is what I would have ended up doing. I know it. It was only a matter of time. I thought about what to do for days, before the end, and decided there was only one way to prevent it – let them catch me. They never would have otherwise. And then seeing your son was the deciding factor. I didn’t want to end up hurting you. Any of you. It’s better this way, Bryn. Trust me.”
Brynjolf looked at him with a sad smile. “I think I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
“No. And I apologize for taking the choice away from you; but my love, I have known from the first day we were together that the person you really belong with is standing over there.” He inclined his head toward Sayma, who had moved to the far side of the room. “Yes. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but I really always knew it. And now all of it is done, and that means that now I have to leave. I’m going to the Evergloam.”
He stepped forward and smiled. “Damn, I wish I could touch you. I want to tell you something, though. It didn’t hurt, after the first few moments, standing in the sun. I thought it would, but I didn’t even know it was happening. And it’s been fine, since then. Dynny and I have been keeping each other company. I told you, I like him. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a friend before, you know? Like you and Roggi. Friends. No other entanglements. I’ve been helping him with the bone men and such. And we’ve been telling tales about you behind your back.”
Brynjolf raised one eyebrow, and Vitus laughed at him, then sighed.
“But it’s time, my love. I’m tired. Nocturnal agreed to take both of us, thanks to you and Sayma. So don’t be sad, loverboy. When your time comes to join us in the Evergloam we’ll all be together.”
It was quiet for a moment, except for Brynjolf, standing with his head down, clearing his throat. Then a soft voice broke the silence.
“I have to leave, Brynjolf.” Vitus moved to stand in front of Brynjolf. Brynjolf raised his head and spoke in a hushed voice.
“It’s too soon. I don’t want you to go. I never thought I’d see you again, Andante.” He stopped, and shook his head.
“Vitus,” he said softly. “It’s Vitus Perdeti. It feels good to use my real name. Makes me feel… whole.” He chuckled. “Even though it has a lot of baggage that comes with it. And remember, Bryn. Vitus only loved one person in his entire life. Listen, I don’t know what that says about me, but I know what it says about you. It says that you are a very special man, Brynjolf, that you keep giving and giving even when life is harsh to you,” he said quietly. “You keep getting back up and trying again, and sharing yourself, and that’s an incredible gift. I feel fortunate to have experienced even a little bit of it.”
He stepped toward Brynjolf and reached up toward his face. His spectral hand passed through Brynjolf’s very human skin as though it didn’t exist at all, and he sighed.
“Damn. I was hoping I could touch you once more, but… oh well. Bryn. You are so much more than I could ever have dreamed of being, no matter how strong I was. But I tried, my love. I tried to be the best I could for you because you are worth it.”
He stepped back and moved toward the portal.
“Thank you, Listener,” he said, inclining his head toward Sayma. “For everything.” Then he leaned in a bit closer. “Please, take care of him for me. You’re the only other person who loves him as much as I do.”
Sayma smiled. “You know I will, my friend. And you will not be forgotten. I miss having you around. But I’m surely happy that you’re going to be there saving us a seat.”
He laughed, and turned to go.
“Wait. Vitus.” Brynjolf called. “I need to say something to you before you go.”
Vitus stopped short, clearly startled by hearing Brynjolf call out to him with his true name. He turned back to face Brynjolf and stepped closer. “What is it?”
Brynjolf’s voice, when it came, was low and, to Sayma’s ears, the sweetest sound in the world.
“It’s… something really important. You were wrong, you know. All of that time. You thought that you didn’t mean that much to me. You were wrong.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Vitus spoke up, quiet, without any hint of the bravado he’d layered on during his life.
“What are you saying?”
Brynjolf smiled at him, the soft smile Sayma knew and adored on those rare occasions when it made its appearance.
“I’m saying, Vitus Perdeti, you damned fool, that I have loved you. I wish I’d been able to tell you that while you were alive, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. I tried to show you, lad, and it’s clear that I failed. I’m sorry. But at least take the words with you now. I have so dearly loved you. You’ll always be with me. Here,” he added, touching his chest. “It doesn’t matter what your name is, or what you did before we met. There’s never been anyone else like you in my life.”
There was a very long pause before the ghost of the man who had been Andante spoke.
“Not even Dynny?”
“Not even Dynny, as much as he meant to me. And you know how much he meant to me.”
Vitus was silent for a moment. “You know, those last few weeks… I kept thinking that it felt special. Like something else. Oh, Bryn.” He sighed, and then smiled. “Thank you. Thank you, my love. That is such a gift. I – I truly thought that nobody ever cared for me.”
Brynjolf shook his head. “I know you thought that. But you were wrong. I did. Even when you made me crazy, I did. Remember all those moments, Vitus, and you will know that I did.”
Vitus’ eyes shone, even through the shimmering aspect of a spirit. He was quiet for several moments. Three, perhaps four long heartbeats went by before he smiled and breathed a contented sigh.
“Brynjolf, for probably the first time ever I don’t want to make a fool of myself. I have to go now,” he said.
“I know. Rest easy, Vitus. And thank you. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, loverboy,” Vitus said with a smile. “And thank you. Eyes open, and walk with the shadows.”
And he shimmered, and disappeared.
It was silent for a moment. Sayma felt dampness on her cheeks and reached up to find that the emotions she’d been suppressing had found their way out through her eyes, in spite of her best efforts. She was wiping them when the energies from the Ebonmere surged, and Nocturnal rose to hover above it.
“Well, Nightingales,” she said. “You’ve achieved your goals, and satisfied mine. Your friends are safe in the Evergloam, and my Nightingales once more are a trinity. I bid you farewell for now. Give my regards to Karliah, and do not give me cause to see you again soon, yes?”
Sayma bowed her head in acquiescence as Nocturnal sank into the Evergloam and disappeared. She watched Brynjolf for a moment, and then stepped forward to speak to him.
“Bryn. I think we should go now.”
He nodded.
“That was… not something I expected,” he whispered.
“I know. I’m glad you got a chance to tell him.”
“Are you?”
She slipped her arms around his waist. He was warm, and solid, and everything that she wanted in the world.
“Yes. Yes I am glad.”
“I…” he started to speak, but his voice caught. His arms came down around her shoulders.
“It’s ok, you know. If you need to cry. I understand.”
He pushed her back, gently, and smiled.
“No. I don’t need to cry. I loved him, you know? I truly did. We needed each other, for that time. He’ll always be a part of me, just like Dynny is. But that, right there, that … was what I needed. To say the words. To finish things. To put things right.”
He dropped his arms, but reached out and took one of Sayma’s hands in his.
“I think we should go now. What do you say?”
She nodded, and smiled at him. “That sounds good. Let’s go be with Dar, and Roggi, and the rest of the family. I need to be around the living for a change, how about you?”
“Aye.” He stopped, and looked down at the portal, and laughed. “Look at that, would you.”
“What?” Sayma glanced down at the stones and saw what he was looking at: a drab, lumpy wad of gray cloth with purple lettering.
“She left the gods-damned Cowl behind,” Brynjolf snickered. “On purpose, no doubt. Grab it. It might come in handy some day.”
Sayma stared at him for a moment, and then giggled. “Alright then.”