An illustrated Skyrim story beyond the fall of the Dark Brotherhood~
After a surreal event, Cicero is inexplicably thrown back into a clear state of mind and his memories from his life prior to his madness return. We begin to learn who he really is...
Sleep did not come easy. Even with being exhausted from the events in the Rift, Cicero was finding it nearly impossible to relax with the knowledge that he would soon be face-to-face with the harbinger of the Void... the 'Wrath of Sithis'. He lay in his bed listening to his own heart beating in his ears. The wounds on his face throbbed despite the healing ointment that Ruby had applied. With the stolen mill worker's clothes caked in dried blood and the old shrouded armor set still on the corpse of Uncle Jarkov, Cicero was forced to don his tattered jester motley again. Nazir promised to have a new set of leathers for him to wear before they left for Falkreath... but in the meantime, Cicero chose to punish himself as he shivered and obsessed over his recent failures.
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Why the Wrath? Why now? This was not like the purifications of the past. This was something that had never been documented. No one had ever truly laid eyes upon the Wrath before... no one who lived to tell, anyway. Many assumed it to be a figure of speech referring to eternal damnation.
Cicero knew he had failed the Night Mother and Dread Father. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but it was clear that the Brotherhood was in peril because of it. He was never truly afraid of death, even when confronted by the Dragonborn while fleeing Astrid's traitorous clan of blasphemers. Jade could have killed him then and there yet his only fear was leaving the Night Mother alone to the elements of the wretched. Cicero had always cherished the idea of humbly joining Mother and Father in the Void. He felt as if his entire life was building up to it... but now... everything was beginning to feel different.
The bed suddenly shifted and he could feel a warm hand touch his shoulder.
"Miss Ruby, I-" he turned over expecting to see the little elf since she had a habit of cuddling against him at night.
"I just wanted to check on you," Zukira said as she carefully sat down beside him.
Cicero quickly sat up, "Oh... Zuk- initiate, I'm-"
"I didn't mean to startle you."
"I'm alright. I just have a lot on my mind."
"About that... I don't know why the Night Mother spoke to me, but I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
"The Wrath doesn't speak to those who 'have nothing to worry about'," he mumbled.
"What is the Wrath exactly?"
"He's allegedly the embodiment of Sithis," Cicero sighed, laying back onto his pillow, "An apparition or even an avatar of flesh sent to speak for him."
"Doesn't the Night Mother speak for Sithis?" Zukira asked glancing down at him.
"The Night Mother merely feeds the Void by speaking to the Listener to pass on the wishes of the users of the Black Sacrament," he explained, "Sithis, being the Void, has no form and no voice. But he has taken to flesh before when he first visited our Matron and begat her five children to which she sacrificed to prove her devotion.
"With Mother's corpse gone, she is unable to communicate with us further. She was the heart of the Dark Brotherhood. Without her we are just stabbing in the dark, so to speak." Cicero stared at Zukira as he waited to hear her thoughts. She said nothing.
"Are you afraid?" he asked quietly.
Zukira bit her lips together and nodded while avoiding eye contact. "I feel that I had something to do with this," she finally said, "I don't know what, but I feel that this all started happening when I arrived-"
"The Dark Brotherhood has been hemorrhaging for decades," Cicero replied as he slowly sat back up, "and with the discovery of the Listener and the fall of the Falkreath Sanctuary, things have just... escalated."
"I don't want you to go," Zukira mumbled under her breath, "I'm afraid I'll lose you again."
"I have to," Cicero shook his head, "I'm a servant to the Void as are you, and we shouldn't question the orders of the Night Mother..."
"Then I want to go with you."
Cicero shook his head again, "I'd rather you not be anywhere near there. If something happens-"
"Like what?"
"...I don't know." his voice faded as he looked away.
Zukira suddenly leaned forward and pulled him into a nervous hug, "I don't want to be alone anymore..." she whispered.
Cicero held her. He could relate to those words more than she could ever know. Though, he didn't want to explain that, if this were a purification, she'd be killed as well... He tucked his face into the side of her neck gently so as not to hurt his healing nose. She smelled so good. Why did women smell so good? His mind flashed back to the drunken night at the Bee and Barb with Jade and he began to feel nauseous. If Zukira knew what they did, she would be devastated. Fortunately, there was a good chance that Jade would never bring it up again. He knew she considered him a loser and that wasn't the kind of 'hook-up' she'd want anyone to associate her with. Besides, there was the whole dead uncle situation that could get them both into a lot of trouble depending on who found out. Though, that didn't make him feel any less like a piece of shit.
"We just have to wait and see," he whispered softly, "Regardless, you won't be alone."
~
The next morning, Cicero stood before the empty casket of the Night Mother as he adjusted the cuffs of his new set of shrouded armor. Well, sort of new. Judging from the musty smell of the leather, it hadn't been worn for decades. At least it fit in the correct places.
Ruby scampered across the landing and leaped onto Cicero's back. Even predicting the impact, he found himself stumbling forward.
"Cicero has to leave again, Miss Ruby," he said in a slightly strangled voice as he bend down to slide her off.
She released and held up the jester's cap she had made him and attempted to put it on his head. He gently grabbed her arm and lowered it.
"You should hang on to that for now," he said calmly, "I shouldn't take anything with me on this trip..."
Ruby, clearly not understanding, attempted to put it on him again. Cicero sighed and just allowed it. His heart felt heavy knowing that this could be the last time he ever saw her smiling face. When would she know? How would she know? Who would explain to this little ray of sunshine that he was gone forever? He hadn't even known her that long, but her presence was so warm and inviting that she felt like family right away. Cicero wanted to hug her tightly and cry but he knew that she would feel something wrong. He wasn't quite aware of her empathic nature, but she already feel his anxiety and wanted to comfort him.
Jade and Nazir arrived at the top of the steps. Both looked distant and concerned. They likely didn't get much sleep either.
Cicero glanced at Jade, "You're coming, too?"
"Yes," She avoided eye contact, "If something happens to you two, I need to be able to bring word back to the others."
Cicero nodded, also glancing away. His gaze landed on Zukira who was sitting at the dining table in the hall below the landing. They made eye contact. She wanted so bad to go hug Cicero goodbye, but with Jade there... it could cause more unneeded stress on everyone.
The Dark Brotherhood was at a crossroads; Things would never be the same. The Speaker, Listener, and Keeper began their trek south to the gutted Falkreath Sanctuary to learn their fate.
