The Ragged Flagon was quiet. It was very late in the evening. The Guild had discussed what to do the next day and how to approached the new jobs they'd been given. Brynjolf had reassured that Azrael would have been back sooner of later, and also explained to some why he had been chosen as leader. There were but a few that still didn't like the idea of him being in charge. One of them got convinced by Bryn, and the other one insisted a little bit more. Surprise surprise, Dirge himself had gotten up and explained that 'If you don't shut up about Azrael, I'll punch you into the Warrens and back up.' Brynjolf had smiled at that, casting an amused glance at both Delvin and Vex.

The preparation session had concluded, and the entirety of the Guild either went to bed, set out for nighttime jobs or retuned into the Cistern to practice of talk. Eitienne had come in through the Warrens half an hour later. He said no Thalmor had been seen down there. Since the Assassin departed, he had taken that check as a personal duty. No Elf ever went down there without him knowing. So long, only a couple of scouts had passed through. Brynjolf had them eliminated.

'Vekel, would you mind pouring me another?'

'Sure, Bryn,' answered the barman, taking a small flagon and going towards the thief. 'What are you drinking away? Loneliness?' he then asked, pouring the mead into the man's tankard.

'No. Boredom. I think you've noticed; without the lad here… This place is tedious.'

'Yes, I noticed indeed. But I think we're just a bit worried for him. Once he's back safe and sound and Guild business is managed properly again, we'll all be merry and cheerful again. You'll see.'

'I guess I will. Vekel…'

The innkeeper was already walking away, but immediately turned upon hearing the strange tone. It was different from Bryn's normal way of speaking. It wasn't soft or anything like that. It had been firm, resolute. Vekel turned, put down the tray on the table next to them and sat in front of the old acquaintance. The two men looked each other in the eyes, shivered with fear and then smiled a little bit. They both sensed it was going to be something slightly embarrassing. So much so Brynjolf had to make a short premise.

'The lad has helped us a lot, Vekel, you know that. However, he has helped me too. Without him, there were certain things of me that I'd have never understood completely. For instance, that sincerity is a dangerous and difficult art. Thus, I wanted to say a thing to you. You know about the rumors that were going around about me and Tonilia. Come on, don't make faces, I know you do.'

'I do, Bryn,' replied the man, lowering his gaze for a moment. 'I don't hold it against you, but…'

'Azrael says to ignore everything that comes before "but", so try again,' grinned Brynjolf, drinking a draught from the tankard.

'Yeah… A real smartass that one,' chortled Vekel. 'Anyway, yes, I know.'

'Well, that was true. But it's over.'

'What?' asked the barman, not believing his ears. The reasoning behind that didn't quite fit into his brain. 'You just gave up? Why?'

'I thought over what the lad said. We are a family, Vekel. Beforehand, we were a rabble of thieves. Thieves steal, and the concept of stealing is taking something in the possession of another.'

'That's quite philosophical on your part.'

'I know, but bear with me. Tonilia was yours, and I took her as a good thief should. But now I'm not a thief to you anymore. We're family. And family members don't steal the things of one another. It's not on principle, rule or anything like that. They just don't. She's yours.'

'And when have you decided?'

'Just an hour ago. We discussed it in private, and came to this conclusion. It had to end.'

Vekel would have liked to reply, maybe thank him or whatnot. However, just as Brynjolf finished the phrase, a grim shadow appeared from behind the pillar… No, two shadows. Two figures, walking forward and making close to no noise. They had cloaks floating behind them, of different lengths. The first one walked at a strong pace, covering a large portion of ground with each step, and was also quite tall. The second was shorter, smaller, but its pace was quick and easily kept up with the first. As the light struck them, the crimson eyes of the Assassin shined.

'Romantic discussion between two men,' he said. His tone glacial and sarcastic, his voice deep. Brynjolf nearly had a heart attack. He hadn't heard him. 'Heartbreaking,' the Assassin continued, 'almost as much as one between two women, but not quite.'

'Azrael!'

'Lad! Karliah!'

'Good so see you, pals.'

Brynjolf raised from the chair and embraced the Assassin. His rich laugh and the grim one of the Assassin mixed. Karliah waved at Vekel and then looked at the two. Seeing the leader reuniting with his second in command was a truly pleasant sight. The two let go of one another and slapped each other on the back with strength, still sniggering in their own, unique way. Green eyes found red ones, the gaze of which they always searched for reassurance.

'I'm not exactly the sentimental type, but damn if I'm happy to see you, lad.'

'I heard you quoting me on my "delete the things before the but", and here you say that anyway.'

'I've also missed you hellishly biting wit. Karliah…' he then said, turning towards her. 'Everything alright after I left you?'

'Yes, Bryn. I hope you've managed to organize he Guild alright?'

'Splendidly. Now, tell me everything.'

'We will…' sighed the Assassin, casting an ice-cold glance at Vekel. 'But you have to leave, Vekel.'

The innkeeper nodded without thinking twice. He put the tray down on the counter, took off his gloves and went off to the other room. He was still a bit exited about the sudden return of the Guild Master, and that wouldn't have gotten away until he told someone the next day. The three looked at him, and turned to each other immediately after he turned around the corner.

The three Nightingales sat down at a table, and laughed again.

'Damn, it's been a long time. More than a week, in fact,' calculated Brynjolf.

'Yes,' confirmed the Assassin. 'More than a week. Spent four days of that in the ruin.'

'Doing what?'

'Azrael wasn't awakening,' explained Karliah, lowering her hood and crossing her legs. 'I watched over him for four days, after which he came back to his senses. Once he walked again, we went back and returned the Key.'

'And did everything go alright?'

'Yeah,' said Azrael, 'although not everything went according to plan.'

'Meaning?'

'We spoke with Nocturnal,' told Karliah. 'She congratulated us for our retrieval of the Key. I left soon after, and once Azrael remained alone she spoke to him again. He told him he's not completely a Nightingale, apparently.'

'Meaning?' asked Bryn. 'I've seen your eyes being red again, but I never imagined… What happened?'

'If only I knew…' tittered the Assassin, stretching his arms. 'Enough with that. Karliah can tell you everything tomorrow morning. I'll be up early and I'll go in the Warrens to pick up Esbern.'

'I'm coming with you, lad.'

'I am too.'

Azrael looked at Karliah first, then at Brynjolf. He lowered his hood and took off his mask, putting it on the table. His long hair fell down on his back, and the stronger light made his eyes blaze like flames. There was that tiny bit of surprise in his eyes that rendered his stare a bit more human than usual.

'Seriously?' he asked.

'Dead seriously.'

'Fine,' he answered, shrugging. 'All the same to me. Before we go to bed, Bryn, two things. First, you and Karliah are in charge of this place until I sort out all of my other matters. Second, and this is my first instruction as Guild Master, about Goldenglow Estate.'

'What about it?'

'The property of that honey farm has to go to a member of the Guild. You'll choose.'

'To what end?' pressed on Brynjolf.

'I feel like… This place needs a bit of spring cleaning. The Guild should be an important organization, and right now we're tied to the whims of a small number of people. I'd like to change that,' Azrael said, his smile turning into an ever crueler sneer. 'We'll own Goldenglow, and Maven will have to depend on us. That small number of people will be bound to the whims of the Guild, from now on.'

'Lad, this is all quite dangerous,' Brynjolf warned him, but Karliah defended her brother in blood.

'Bryn, listen to him. I'm also a thief, and I'm older than you, so I too thought the plan seems absurd, but only at first. You'll realize that it's effective. His methods are as if not more effective than ours, just crueler. By binding Maven to us that way, she'll slowly lose out on power coming from wealth. She'll either have to come to terms with us, or stand up to the abuse. At that point, she'll be in our hands.'

'The point is that both us and Maven know the rules,' whispered the Assassin. 'But the rules know only Maven. They don't know us. We'll exploit the rules against her.'

That low whisper he used was a thing Brynjolf envied him a little bit. While he had always had the ability to analyze thing very intently, the Assassin had a stunning capability at also synthesizing them. Short catchphrases, quick jests, even his endless supply of cynical one liners were a proof of that. Brynjolf looked at him. He wasn't a robber, sure, and that was just the refreshing change the Guild needed.

In the end, however, Azrael was a thief. He was a taker of lives. Lives aren't property, not always, but are considered as such. He had pledged himself to the most dangerous and satisfactory kind of thieving Nirn had ever seen: killing. Taking lives. He really was a thief.

A Thief of Lives.

A/N: This is the end of Thief of Lives. Feel free to leave a Favorite if you liked it. Azrael's tale continues in The Assassin III: Godsplitter