[Apocrypha] Nightingales, Volume 3, as continued by the next generation of the Nightingale Trinity.

Nightingales (Volume 3)

By Soteria Caedus

Gallus Desidenius, a man I never knew, once wrote:

>“As a Nightingale, I feel compelled to place quill to parchment and record my thoughts regarding my knowledge of our order. If one day the Nightingales should vanish from Tamriel, then let this tome serve as a reminder of what we once were and to dispel any rumor or hearsay about our purposes and our motivations.”

Perhaps it’s a bit of cruel irony that we Nightingales find ourselves so drawn to self-contemplation and the passing on of knowledge. Ever since I read Gallus’ musings on the subject of our Trinity, I’ve been drawn as he was to the pen and page. He, however, was a scholar, a thinker. While I would like to consider myself intelligent (rather, intelligent enough to get this far), my grasp of the concepts left behind in the first two volumes of his Nightingales books, as well as the assorted notes left behind in Nightingale Hall, may not be complete.

Let it not be said that we Nightingales cannot at least recognize our flaws, even as we shamelessly deny them.

Regardless, the history of the Nightingale Trinity has expanded somewhat since the publication of Nightingales, Volume Two. Gallus Desidenius is dead, at the hand of another Nightingale, Mercer Frey. In his last days, Gallus left behind accounts of Mercer’s theft from the Guild, suspicious activities, and opulent expenditures, and even direct knowledge of a trap being set for himself. Why? As a Nightingale, if not as Guildmaster, Gallus could easily have eliminated Mercer, and blown open his entire operation. He had the resources, the power, and the goodwill of the masses, and still he played directly into Mercer’s hands. Why?

I think I might know.

After my induction into the Nightingales- likely the highest-stakes investment I have ever made- I was able to seek out what remained of Gallus’ personal accoutrements. Among them were assorted notes, scribblings, sketches, and what even appeared to be painstaking copies from tomes thoroughly unrelated to the business of being a thief and a scoundrel. As I said before, Gallus was a scholar, from all accounts, and I believe I finally understand what he was studying.

Throughout history, there has been one story. At least, that’s how I understand it. I have never been particularly skilled at philosophy or history, but from what I can pick out of my predecessor’s writings, there have always been trinities. He talked a lot about Tiber Septim, and his battlemage Zurin Arctus, and his general Wulfharth, and how the betrayals and power struggles led to great, mythic things. According to him, there are always three: Ruler, Rebel, Observer; Warrior, Thief, Mage, that sort of thing. The Rebel kills the King, or the King kills the Rebel, and the Observer watches all. Either way, though, at the end, whoever wins, they rule the whole cake.

And at first, I didn’t pick up on it. Why would this matter to a thief, even a learned thief? Even, maybe, a thief who signed on with the Saint of Suspicion for a chance at learning what it all means? Then it clicked. We’re the Nightingale Trinity.

Before me, they were Gallus, Mercer, and Karliah. Thick as thieves, if you’ll forgive me being coy about this. But then Mercer started getting antsy, started wanting more, and he betrayed Gallus. Killed him, while Karliah watched. Boom. Rebel-King-Observer. Mercer, just for the gall of it, even went on to be Guildmaster himself, all while pinning the whole damn thing on Karliah. He got the throne, he got the Key, he got the gold, he got everything. And it was terrible. But Gallus… saw it all coming. He saw it happening, even while it was. His journal’s sitting next to me while I write this. He walked straight into that s’wit’s trap, and if I know anything about us Nightingales, he died laughing. You see, even if I didn’t know this while I was doing this, Gallus knew I- yes, this story’s ultimately about me- would come along sooner or later. He was still hanging around, still trapped in Nightingale Hall with the rest of the Shades, waiting for Karliah to come back, and bring me with her. And here’s why.

I killed the King. I took the Key. I got the throne. Karliah, my mentor? She watched the whole thing go down. What goes around, comes around, buddy boy.

So here’s my advice to all those who come after me: Eyes open, and walk with the shadows. We are Nightingales, all of us. Strife, Subterfuge, and Stealth. We signed away our souls the day we shook hands with Our Lady of Midnight, and our order is built on the strongest shit in Aetherius. Take pride in that, take pride in your work, and know that wherever you are, me, and Gallus, and everyone who came before you will be right there with you.

Soteria Caedus

Nightingale