Cicero and everything else belongs to Bethesda. The Murderer belongs to me.
Astrid the Pretender has been away for a couple of days now. The werewolf, her husband, was starting to get worried as some of the others were too. However, the Keeper was sitting at the table in his room, not worried at all as his chin was in his black gloved hand, idly bored as he was tapping his fingers on the wooden table. "Must oil mother soon," he murmured to himself as that job was only an hour away. "Cicero is getting hungry," he muttered as his was just staring into the distance, trying to think of how to past time.
Then a strange sound echoed through the halls. As if it was a blast of fire.
He knew that the mage practices his magic, but this was different. It was one after another, then silence.
Curious, Cicero decided to check it out. The crimson and black cladded jester rose from the bench and walked down the halls, then heard slow footsteps coming to his position. As if someone was sneaking. Something that was not usual here. Growing suspicious, he too, grew quiet. He peeked around the halls and saw someone leave the Night Mother chambers. Someone that was not dressed in the armor of the Brotherhood. The jester carefully followed and took a glimpse at the Night Mother, seeing that the coffin was locked and secured. Then looked away, but did a double take and his amber eyes grew wide in horror.
Laying to his left against by the wall, was the body of Festus Krex with an arrow through the head.
His amber eyes narrowed in anger and rage as he whipped out his ebony dagger, quickly, but stealthily, snuck out of the chamber and caught sight of the person walking down the stairs dressed in hide armor. Just as he was about to stab her in the back, he noticed the Argonian's body by the training dummies.
The broke the stealth and he snapped his gaze back to her. "Die, damn you!" He screeched, pouncing on the murderer with his dagger raised.
The young woman whipped around and pulled out her steel sword just as he swung at her, blocking it.
The jester leapt back, staring at her as rage, murder, and madness blazed in his eyes like wildfire as images flashed before them.
Death.
Silence.
Madness.
Everyone was dead.
Why? Why must his family die?
One by one his family fell! One even died by a bandit! One he killed. Yes, he killed him, but he was a liar! He was not the Listener! For years he was alone! Now when he finally found another family in another land, they get murdered by- Who is this harlot, anyway? How did she even find the Sanctuary! He will find the traitor and send their soul to Sithis! Was it Astrid? No, no it couldn't be. Could it? Or was she dead too? She said she was off to find a new recruit! He knew that everyone was in the Sanctuary last he heard. But was Babette? Was the un-child still alive? Oh, but she isn't the traitor. Cicero knew that! If she was alive, though, she would leave. Oh, yes. She would leave as there would be no reason to stay! Because the Dark Brotherhood is dead! Only Cicero would stay because he swore to protect the Night Mother till his dying breath!
His eyes were locked on the blond Nord woman as he was seeing fire. Fires raging around them like Oblivion itself! And the laughter! Yes, laugher echoing loudly! The jester curled his lip as he grasped his dagger. He screamed as he ran to the murderer, ready to slash her until there was nothing more to slash. The woman dodged and blocked. She tried to swing at him, but he was too quick. Oh, yes. So very, very quick as the jester was light on his feet. "I'll murder you!" He screeched in madness as he was wishing the woman would stay still and accept the dagger into her gut.
The woman would dodge and block as her eyes were wide in surprise.
The jester would swiftly dodge and try to deliver a blow.
Every second that would pass, he would grow more crazed in rage as tears were threatening to fill his eyes. She killed them all. The Redguard, the Agaronian, the mage, and elf, and the werewolf. Possibly even the pretender! They would all be here to kill the intruder if they were not dead. Their bodies must be scattered around the Sanctuary. Cicero noticed the bow on her back along with a quiver of arrows which meant she must've fired an arrow at them all. But not him. No. She did not know that the Keeper was here and he was going to defend the Night Mother and this Sanctuary till his very last breath! He may not be the Listener and he may be alone for Sithis knows when, the laughter of the jester may be his only friend once more, but his loyalty will never die! He will never leave the Night Mother's side. He will avenge his family!
When he managed to cut the woman's arm, dropping blood on the dirt ground, he flashed her a crazed grin in delight and their eyes met for a second.
Only for a second.
How he would love when those blues eyes are glazed over and staring at complete nothingness. What a sight it will be! Just as he was swinging his dagger to her with a mad grin, she jumped back, swung her sword, cutting deeply into his right arm, causing him to drop his dagger with a clatter. He was about to grab it, but she was going to strike. Growling in frustration, he leapt back from sword's blade and was getting annoyed with each each dodge from the swinging sword, getting farther from his own blade.
"You are you, jester?" The woman demanded.
The jester eyed his dagger laying on the ground, saw the chance, and dove for it, rolling into a summersault, grabbed it off the ground, and straightened his jester hat. He leapt to his feet, turning to the surprised woman with the dagger back in his gloved hand. "The Keeper of the Night Mother!" He shouted with a crazed grin and was ready for another round, until she spun around, slicing him in the side.
The jester cried out in pain as he staggered, clenching his left side. He looked down and his eyes grew wide at the blood on his black glove. "That's a lot of blood," he murmured. He looked back at the woman, who came slicing again, but he stepped back, hitting the sword's blade with his own dagger's blade. The pain was growing as he felt weaker while warm blood was coating his side. Determination burned inside of him. He refused to die by the hands of this murderer! He fought the pain and lunged at her like a beast that was caged for far too long.
The woman was taken aback by his comeback, but knew his weak point.
Cicero had his dagger raised, ready to end the murderer, until he felt searing pain in his side and by the force of the second blow, he flew to the ground. The jester slowly rolled on his back and looked at his wound as his heart was slamming in his chest, gasping for air. Blood. Crimson blood was now staining his crimson coat as an iron taste filled his mouth along with warm blood. He rested his head on the ground, staring up at the rocky ceiling, catching his breath.
He failed.
He tried!
But he could not defend the Sanctuary! The Night Mother will become dust!
A tear escaped the corner of his eye.
He only hoped the Dread Lord and the Night Mother understood.
"Forgive me…" he chocked as blood filled his mouth. The laughter was going to end and the Void was going to welcome him. The Unholy Matron was going to embrace poor Cicero. "Mother."