The Dragonborn's Apprentice

Med Daar

"You know," the Dragonborn said once we had arrived back at Lakeview Manor. As we rode through Skyrim back to one of Sanguine's many mansions, I grew increasingly aware of how close it was to the Pine Forest. And how close the Pine Forest was to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. "I could get used to Windhelm." He kicked off his boots and threw his giant feet up onto the table.

"Correction, you could get used to the girls in Windhelm," I said, setting a heaping bowl of cabbage and potato soup in front of him and myself. It warmed the chill of Windhelm but not the freeze of the kajiit's spattered blood. He ate much quicker than I. I had miraculously made it back to the inn where Sanguine and I had been staying before he had woken up. We were surprisingly able to get through dinner without him asking me where my sword had run off too. I had been smart enough to leave my blood drenched dagger behind. Eventually we retired to our separate rooms for the night.

There was a mere moon separating my first kill in the orphanage to my most recent at the abandoned shack and as I watched the moon set on the shimmering lake, I worried that I might wake up with yet another sticky, red weapon in my hands. I had slept alone in this small bed for years but for the first time felt as if I could not breathe, like there was a dagger stuck in my chest and a possibly innocent kajiit's blood running through my veins. I got up and opened the window for some fresh air.

"Ah, good, Cicero will not have to climb down through the chimney," chimed the familiar, shrill voice of that psychotic jester as he hung upside down outside my window. I yelped and fell backwards, then covered my mouth for fear of waking Sanguine.

"Oh, don't worry about volume control. The fat one will be asleep for," he giggled, "well, quite some time." I gasped. "What?" He asked, tossing me an empty potion bottle. Sleeping serum.

"Is this the same stuff you used on me?" I spat.

"Oh, no. Astrid took care of you. Too bad, too. Cicero bets you're a very cute sleeper!"

"Astrid?"

"Oh, Astrid! She's the boss woman. She was the one who brought you too that little shack. She was also you're innkeeper!" Cicero swung back and forth by his legs, his arms hanging past his head.

"That's why her voice sounded so familiar."

"Yes, yes. Something like that," he muttered. "By the way, excellent work on that kajiit," he giggled again, the poor fool was surely out of his head, giggling all the time. "Personally, Cicero would have just killed all three!" He burst into hysterical laughter. "That's what we ended up doing anyways."

"Why did you set me up?" I wondered if there was anything sharp or blunt around that I could use to knock the fool into next Morndas. I also wondered just how quickly he could slit my throat before I had even found a weapon. More so than that I wondered where that familiar look in his eye had come from. Had we ever met before? Surely, I would remember.

"Cicero does not understand what you mean."

"Why did you give me that address? The whole ordeal almost got me killed!"

"Oh, no! You misunderstand. Cicero thought that Innocence would make the most admirable assassin! He was just trying to test your skills!" Even while explaining himself, he laughed as if he were telling Tamriel's funniest knock-knock joke.

"You want me in the Dark Brotherhood?" I asked disbelievingly. As if. People don't just stumble into businesses like this.

"Oh, but of course! Cicero thinks that you will be just excellent at it!" His face fell into seriousness as he dropped the third-person act. "Actually, I know it."

"How did you know my name?"

"Ah, but that is a story for another time."

Before I could object, Cicero grabbed my forearm and whisked me out the window. We dropped silently to our feet at the edge of the mansion. The crazed man ran, still clutching my arm and moving almost faster than my legs could carry me. Finally, he stopped.

"Hey! You can't just-"

"Shh," he said, motioning me forward. There was a slight thumping sound and the silent wisp of expelled breath. When, I took a step forward to investigate, two red spheres illuminated themselves in front of me. Ruby eyes in a stone skull. The Black Door.

"What is the music of life?" Several voices whispered at once. The hairs on my neck raised as I looked to Cicero for help. He smirked at me and jutted his chin towards the door.

"Silence... my brother?" It came out pathetic and confused, but the door opened.

"Welcome home."

I tread cautiously down the dimly lit staircase. Cicero led the way, whistling and trotting with ease. This was his home, that was clear to see. The stairs finally ended and opened into a foyer of sorts. There were a few book shelves and doorways leading further into the cavern. A large stone desk was situated in the corner. In one of the many doorways was Astrid, leaning against the frame as if she'd been expecting company.

"Ah, at last. I hope you found the place alright," she said coolly, examining her nails.

"So, what happens now?" I asked, partially because I had nothing else to say. I wasn't technically here by my own accord, Cicero was still standing behind me, swaying from heel to toe, looking as if he was a pup who had just retrieved his master a pair of slippers. But I wasn't running away, either. I was drawn to this place somehow. And even though killing made me feel like a monster, it had also felt... easy. Natural. Almost second nature. The thought alone made the bile rise once more. Besides, I could only assume what happened to folks who knew the location of the crypt but did not choose to switch professions.

"Well, what happens now is you start your new life in the Dark Brotherhood. You are part of the family, after all. This, as you can see, is our sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim, so get comfortable."

"So, when do I have to kill someone?" I asked cautiously. Astrid mistook it for enthusiasm. Cicero did too. He let out an excited squeal behind me and danced about the room.

"Soon, my dearest. Soon. I'm arranging a job for you, but I need some time. For now, go talk to Nazir. He may have some smaller contracts to tide you over." My stomach did a nervous flip. Great, more killing.

I was only being partially sarcastic.

"Ah, but one more thing. A welcome home present. May it serve you well in all your... endeavors." Astrid motioned me toward a shelf housing dark leather armor. The coat of the Dark Brotherhood. Astrid strode over to the desk and began working at the map.

"Come on, come on! Cicero cannot wait to see you in that armor!" He pushed me through the sanctuary, up and down stairs, through a large pond and into an assassin-free room. Cicero gave me a sad look when I told him he couldn't stay in the room with me while I changed, but he left shortly after.

My worn steel armor fell with a clang. I pulled on the light leather armor instead. It felt soft on the inside and flexible all over. It felt... right.

"Ready or not, here Cicero comes!" Cicero sang as he threw open the door. His jaw dropped. "Wow. Cicero has never seen anyone look so... Cicero thinks he needs to sit down." He plopped down on the bed and quickly preoccupied himself by scribbling away in one of the many journals littering the room.

I turned and looked at myself in the cracked mirror. The uniform fit snugly just about everywhere and brought out my wide Imperial hips and strong Nordic calves. I could squat and pivot with ease in this armor. I saw Cicero watching me in the mirror, his eyes the size of septims.

I thought about how it felt to drive my sword into the belly that old woman, my dagger into the chest of the kajiit. There was something so bittersweet about the blood that coated my hands. Yes, I was killing, but I was killing people who deserved it. More than that, I was killing for me. For my own gold and my own personal gain. Finally, I had a place to call home. An escape. I was going to make something of myself without Sanguine. No, I was no longer the Dragonborn's apprentice. I was going to be Innocence. Innocence the Dark Brotherhood assassin.