AN: ONLY GALDUR, DAGUR AND DARLAYAH BELONG TO ME. THE REST OF THE CHARACTERS ARE OWNED BY BETHESDA :3
"M-murder?"
No. This can't be right. Maybe the nightmare hadn't finished? Maybe she hadn't woken up yet? Yes, that must be it. But the world seemed so real...
"Yes ma'am. They were butchered in their own beds last night. I'm here to make sure no one causes anymore harm." the guard's voice was grim, and he folded his arms. "Just turn around and leave. I don't think the temple are accepting visitors right now." his dry gallows humour was not helping Darlayah at all. "Listen, if you want to do something about this, you are welcome to. Just don't complain if you start screaming at the sight of blood." He raised his arms in surrender, and allowed Darlayah to enter the temple. She began to think.
There were no Brotherhood contracts for the priests, and the word 'butchered' didn't fit the assassins' style. So it was no assassination. Who would attack innocent people?
Once, in Windhelm, Darlayah solved the Butcher case, helping the guards find the killer. It was fairly easy, for the guards were allowing her to help, and the murderer was fairly sloppy in covering up his tracks. Maybe she could figure out this case all the same?
She sighed. What a day this was turning out to be. Nightmares, jesters, murders…not the best combination of unfortunate events. The priests of Mara were good friends of Darlayah, and she did enjoy sitting in the temple with them, catching up and doing jobs for their Lady. The guard wasn't very specific with who had been murdered, but Darlayah didn't care right now. She wanted to know who did it.
When she entered the temple, the guards almost attacked her. "The guy outide let me in! Ask him if you don't trust me." she said quickly, eying the guards with cold stare. They backed down, somewhat reluctantly, but backed down all the same.
The first thing she saw was blood spatters. They were irregular, some blotches were huge and round, others were simple dots on the wall. Darlayah narrowed her eyes. She could tell by the way the blotches were shaped that they were put there, either splattered by the murderer or accidentally put there by a victim. The latter seemed unlikely, as there were no bloody hand prints anywhere. If the victim was touching the walls, there would be prints, not spatters. So they must have been deliberately put there by whoever killed the priests. It was probably meant to scare people away, she thought.
The guards watched as the seemingly docile young woman got up close and personal to each of the blood patterns, analysing each and every one of them. "She may as well do our jobs." one of them joked, simply standing and watching the breton.
"You two have work to do. I suggest you get on with it." Darlayah growled, annoyed that the two guards could sit around and joke while a murder was being investigated. They obeyed, mumbling inaudible things that Darlayah didn't necessarily want to hear.
She came to the statue of Mara. It was perfectly fine, except for a tiny speck of blood at the base of it. But there was nothing else wrong. Everywhere else, the books and tables lay damaged on the floor, scattered around the temple. Whoever was trying to kill the priests obviously tried to make it difficult to find evidence.
One table seemed particularly broken, with all the legs either snapped off or on the opposite side of the room. It seemed…out of place. The breton went closer. It had a small symbol hastily engraved onto the top, a tiny thing the size of a thumbnail. But Darlayah could see it perfectly.
It was her symbol, a tiny 'DDB' engraved into the table. The killer knew Darlayah wouldn't hesitate to investigate this crime. She almost growled. Checking under the bit of damaged furniture, Darlayah noticed something stuck to the underside.
A bit of parchment.
She took it, concerned and afraid of what it would say, yet she still had the guts to open the folded paper. Inside, it read:
And the bird's song is a crow call.
A sharp rap on the door.
The crow's call, is a bird's song.
And the dagger ends it all.
She knew that verse. She knew it well. It was a verse from a song Darlayah's mother had taught her before she died, and she always kept it to herself. How somebody knew it, she did not know. She did not want to know.
"What have you found, breton?" a guard asked, suspicious at why she had spent so long at the table. The young woman hesitated.
"It's just a poem." she said dryly, as the realisation came to her. "Just a fucking poem." she hissed, and she got up, parchment in hand, and stormed out the door. Anger building, her Thu'um dangerously taking control.
There was only one other person who knew this poem. Only one who had caught her singing it. Only one with the nerve to remember it.
Galdur.
"What do you mean, 'murdered'?" Nazir asked, arms folded and concerned expression plastered onto his face. "Actually, don't tell me." He stared at the woman in front of him, knowing he shouldn't push her for answers.
Darlayah was a mess. She was angry, upset, confused, worried…everything at once. She was practically at war with herself, and couldn't bring herself to a conclusion. One side of her wanted to relax, just calm down and be at ease, while the other wanted to kill. It wanted to injure. It wanted to cause pain.
Galdur couldn't have murdered the priests. But he was the only one who knew the poem. The only one.
Clearly the anger and frustration was showing, because Nazir took a step back, all of a sudden looking rather cautious.
"Darlayah. I want to go and see your Greybeard friends. You need help." he stated in a serious tone. It was no use for Darlayah to contain her anger, especially when she was learning how to use the Voice. One false move, and she could easily Shout someone off a mountain.
"I don't need to see anyone, except that bastard Galdur!" she snapped, folding her arms, pacing around the sanctuary. "He couldn't of killed them. Yet he was the only one who knew it. The only one wh-"
"Knew what?" Nazir was getting suspicious.
"…this."
Darlayah reluctantly handed him the poem.He may as well know about it, she told herself.
"This poem. He knows this poem? So what?" he said, confused. Darlayah was ready to explode. So what?!
"This poem was taught to me by my mother! Me and her were the only ones who knew it. She wrote the bloody thing herself!" she snapped, "Galdur once heard me…singing it…and he knew about it from then on. He's the only one who knows about it!" Nazirs confused expression pressed her on.
"I found this under a table with my initials engraved on it." she growled, and Nazir raised an eyebrow.
"You mean…they put this there…for you?" he asked, bewildered. It seemed highly unlikely.
"I'm the only one who understands what it means. Do you honestly think it's a coincidence it was under my initials?" she hissed, and Nazir shook his head grimly.
"Go and see the Greybeards. You. Need. To calm. Down." he stated, and Darlayah realised it was true. Anger could easily make her let go of her control of the Voice.
"Darlayah! I am coming with you this time." a female voice called from behind the breton. Turning around, Darlayah saw Gabriella. She was extremely concerned for her friend, and she wasn't about to let her go running around Skryim Shouting people to death. "I am not letting you go anywhere without me." her stubbornness impressed Darlayah.
"Fine. Just…make sure you leave me alone once we get to High Hrothgar. I need to be left in peace." she said, and Gabriella nodded.
"I will. Tell me when you want to leave, alright?" With that, she turned and left Darlayah and Nazir standing in the Sanctuary. The Redguard patted Darlayah's shoulder, before leaving her as well. The breton stood all by herself.
Well, until he came along.
"Where is Dawn going?" Cicero asked, merrily skipping over to the distressed woman. "Why does she look so sad..?" he mock pouted, which brought out a growl from the breton. The jester seemed quite upset all of a sudden, but it quickly passed, and he asked his question again. "Where are you going?" he asked, innocently staring at the breton standing awkwardly in front of him.
"High Hrothgar…Throat of the World…I need some alone time." she muttered, and Cicero shook his head.
"Poor Dawn is upset. Cicero knows how that feels…" he trailed off, looking as if he was lost in some memory. Tilting her head, Darlayah watched as he furrowed his brow.
"…Cicero?"
The jester was brought straight back to reality, looking around as though spiders were crawling on the ceiling. He then looked at Darlayah with a distant look in his eyes. "Cicero…you okay?" Darlayah asked again, this time shaking the jester's shoulder.
He broke away from her grip. "Cicero has somewhere to be." and with that, he disappeared.
Darlayah clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Well then."
"You know…that Keeper has been acting rather odd." Gabriella said, before mounting her black horse, Raider. Darlayah looked at her with an eyebrow raised, patting her stallion and leaping onto his back. "I mean, he is rather odd…pretty much all the time…but I mean odder." she added, but Darlayah remained silent.
She thought of the jester's 'normal' behavior. That man was always pretty much out of it. How could he be any more strange than what he was already?
"You see, he's been talking quite a bit. Not to himself, though. The things he says just don't seem like it. Me and Astrid think he's talking to someone else. Someone…not from the Brotherhood." the elf continued, and Darlayah stared with a confused look in her eyes. "Do you…do you think he's planning to betray us, Dee?" she added.
"You say, 'me and Astrid'. Are you sure it's not just Astrid being paranoid? She honestly despises that man." Darlayah muttered, urging her horse to go forward, after Raider and his rider. "I don't see why he would want to betray us. He's the Keeper, and by what I have seen, he seems pretty obsessed with his precious Night Mother. Maybe he's just talking to himself. He does that quite a lot." she added, and Gabriella nodded, thinking about it a little more.
Wait. Earlier that day, when the two decided to go to see the Greybeards, Cicero hadbeen acting quite odd. Not just his usual odd, but…odder. He seemed to have remembered something, and then suddenly disappeared.
"Actually…I think I get what you mean, Gabriella. He had been a little weird earlier, when I was talking to him." Darlayah said, tilting her head as she wondered if Astrid's suspicions were true. "Seemed to want to get away from me pretty damn quick."
"Hmm. Maybe Astrid's right. When we get back, or, when you get back, we will see what's going on with that jester." the Dunmer replied. "Come on, we need to get you to the Greybeards."
"You make it sound like I'm ill or something." Darlayah whined, which made the elf laugh. "I'm being serious! It's not like todays been a particularly good day for me." Gabriella continued to laugh. Darlayah knew what she was trying to do.
It took all of Darlayah's strength and will to keep a serious expression, but it wasn't enough. Dagur startled when the breton burst into a fit of laughter, making Gabriella laugh even more.
"I KNEW I could do it!" she laughed, and Darlayah grinned, trying to contain herself.
"Stoooop, I'm trying to be serious!" Darlayah said in mock-exasperation. Gabriella could make her laugh no matter what. It was always fun when the elf was around.
"Ahh, Darlayah. It is good to see you again."
"Arngeir, I need to talk to you about something."
"And what might that be, hmm?"
Darlayah hesitated. Gabriella was still waiting behind her, and she didn't really want her to hear her troubles. Their few moments of laughter and happiness soon ran out on their small horse-back journey, and it had left the breton in a rather solemn mood. "Gabriella, I think I will be alright now. Head back to Falkreath, if you want. Leave Dagur there. I will ride back myself." she told her, and the Dunmer obeyed with a good-bye. Darlayah hated telling her to leave, but it had to be done. She needed to concentrate on keeping her Thu'um in control. What if she loses it, she just cannot control her anger, and she hurts her friend? It was a thought that pained her.
"Darlayah? Is everything okay?" the old Greybeard asked, concern written all over his face. Darlayah tried to open her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it, wondering how to put her troubles into words.
The led the young woman inside High Hrothgar, and shut the door behind her. "You seem troubled." The other Greybeards stopped their meditation, and came to see what was going on.
Darlayah bowed a little, addressing Arngeir formally, before telling him everything that had happened, including her concerns about Alduin, the murders, her Thu'um building up and even included a little about one of her occupations. But when she finished, Arngeir did not look bothered at all. His expression was cold, disapproving almost.
"Master? Have I said something wrong?" Darlayah asked, curiously yet cautiously.
"You say you worry about the World-Eater, and something about a wall. Alduins Wall, you say. What could you want with Alduins Wall?" Arngeir suspected something about Darlayahs mention of a job. She had many different roles and occupations, but one in particular was very unknown.
She was a Blade. The Blades were an organisation focused on defending the Dragonborn emperors of Skyrim. They were almost wiped out during the Great War, and now, only a few remained, and they were either in hiding or forgot their past. Darlayah had foolishly tried to escape her duty, but it caught up with her when Alduin returned. The other Blades had found out about some sort of wall, called Alduins Wall. It was said that the way Alduin had been defeated before was described on the wall, and so the Blades attempted to find it. They succeeded, but found the wall was a cryptic mess of unusual depictions and puzzling pictures. If they could unscramble the code an figure out how to defeat Alduin, maybe the world would be safe once more. Darlayah wanted Alduin dead more than anything, for she wished to be able to sleep without fear again. If Alduin was slain, then she would be free again
"I am a Blade, Master Arngeir. I guess there's no point in keeping it a secret anymore." Darlayah mumbled sheepishly, folding her arms and bracing for some sort of impact.
"I suspected as much. I cannot believe you have kept it from us this entire time. I cannot help you anymore, Darlayah. I am sorry."
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice echoed throughout the halls, and one of the Greybeards came forth, arms raised and face solemn.
"Nii los tiid, Arngeir. Rek fen tinvaak Paarthurnax!" Master Einarth roared, and Darlayah nearly fell to her knees from the power of his voice. Einarth then relaxed, and Arngeir sighed.
"Master Einarth, thank-you." Einarth bowed, before leaving the two without another word. "Darlayah, I may not be able to help you, but I believe our Master will."
"Yes, even Darlayah thinks so!" Gabriella said, crossing her arms.
"Well then, it's settled. When that woman get's back here, we will find out what that clown is up to." Astrid grinned, looking over to Cicero, who was dancing off to oil the Night Mother.
"You bet we will."
Gabriella left Astrid, who continued poring over old maps and documents, a little grin etched onto her face.
As she turned to leave the Sanctuary, Babette suddenly appeared in front of her, causing the elf to jump back in shock. "Babette…you gave me a heart attack…" she muttered. The vampire rolled her eyes.
"That's what I was aiming for." she stated bluntly, and Gabriella clicked her tongue. "Listen, I overheard you and Astrid talking about the jester, and I just wanted to say that he is not to be messed with."
"What do you mean?" Gabriella became suspicious. What harm could that jester do to assassins like them?
"I've seen him attacking the dummies when he isn't on duty. He's like a sabre cat. Doesn't know when to stop…" The tiny vampire led Gabriella to the training area, where the dummies were lined up. Next to one of them, Arnbjorn was scratching his head in confusion, looking at the shredded pile of what used to be one of the training dummies. "See." Babette muttered. Gabriella gulped. "He did that not too long ago. The madman didn't even care. He waltzed off, singing to himself or something. He is the strangest creature I have ever seen…" the 'child' said, and Gabriella shook her head in disbelief. If they were going to find out what Cicero was up to, they had to do it sneakily, or end up as a torn up dummy like the one in the training field.
"Lok…vah koor!"
Darlayah watched as the clouds above the High Hrothgar courtyard yielded to the power of Master Borri's Shout. They dispersed, leaving the yellow sun to shine down onto the court.
"This is the Clear Skies shout. It is the only way you will get to meet our Master." Arngeir pointed to a large arch, which had terribly strong mountain winds blowing past it, stopping anyone from hiking up to meet the Greybeard's mentor. "Now, try it with us."
Darlayah mustered up the raging Thu'um inside her, and bellowed it in the form of the three draconic words. It did almost nothing. The power could be seen, yet hardly any of the remaining clouds decided to move.
It had been almost three days, and she was only beginning to use the power in the three Words. The Greybeards occasionally aided her by giving her some of their knowledge, but they generally allowed her to grasp the shout herself. It was frustrating at times, but it often helped to calm her down, as she forgot her problems and focused on learning.
"Let us try one more time. Master Borri, I think you should give her something to work with." Arngeir told Borri, and immediately, he shouted at the ground in front of Darlayah.
"Ven mul riik!"
"Now, Darlayah, try again. Instead of letting go of your troubles, harness them. Use the power contained inside you, and focus it. Remember why you are learning this Shout."
To destroy Alduin. To find the murderer.
"Lok…vah koor!" The Thu'um burst out, more powerful than before. Arngeir gestured for her to try again.
"Lok…van KOOR!" The breton shouted, and the purple mist began to disperse.
"LOK VAH KOOR!"
Finally, the mist disappeared. She had learnt the shout in only three days.
"Congratulations, apprentice. Now, you are ready to meet Paarthurnax." Arngeir bowed, as did the other Greybeards.
Darlayah nodded. "Yeah…uh…just wait…one…second…"
And with that she collapsed onto the floor and grinned madly. "I'm just gonna sleep here for a while."
"LOK…VAH KOOR!"
Her shout was becoming ever more powerful, as the dangerous winds hid from the rumbling Thu'um that belonged to Darlayah. Finally, she was going to meet the master of the Greybeards. Why was he so far up the mountain though?
Another shout tumbled from Darlayah's mouth, as she stumbled a bit from the new found force. She was beginning to feel a bit dizzy. As she took another step forward, she misinterpreted the steepness of the mountain, and ended up almost tripping forward onto her face.
She had finally reached the top of the Throat of the World. As she stumbled forward a bit more, she noticed the entire place was completely empty, except for a damaged Word Wall, which stood covered in snow and ice.
"Where's this Paarthurnax…"
Suddenly, the ground began to shake, as a rumbling roar reminiscent of a dragon tumbled from the mountain, as a great winged beast flew from behind her, circling the mountain below it. It's torn wings sent gusts of wind down onto the mountain, blowing snow and ice in circles. Darlayah began to panic. I left my bloody weapons on Dagur! She realised her daggers were still attached to her horse's saddle, and regret filled her system as the dull yellow beast came down from the sky, beating up dust and snow as it landed next to the Word Wall.
"Drem Yol Lok, joor. I am Paarthurnax." the dragon spoke, a deep rumbling voice that seemed friendly, yet somewhat intimidating. Darlayah stood still. Surely this wasn't the Master of the Greybeards…
"What brings you to my strunmah, my…mountain?" he continued, moving towards the confused breton. She reluctantly walked a little bit closer to the dragon.
"I was told y-you would help me…find the…uh…Dragonborn…" she said, stammering as the dragon came closer. He seemed to think for a moment.
"Dovahkiin. Ah, it has been too long since I have had the glory of speaking to one of my kin." he rumbled, looking to the sky. "Why do you need a Dragonborn?" Paarthurnax asked, looking back at the trembling woman in front of him. He knew the answer, but he just wanted to know if the breton knew herself.
"Uh…only the Dragonborn can truly slay a dragon…right?" Paarthurnax nodded subtly. "Alduin has returned, and it is the job of the Blades t-to um…find and defend the dragon born, and help him in his fate…" she mumbled, hoping the great dragon had heard her. She was beginning to trust the dragon a little more.
"I see." he said. "But tell me - how did you get to this mountain? You need to be able to use the Thu'um, the…Voice." he murmured, and Darlayah nodded.
"I can Shout." she said, feeling a little braver. Paarthurnax had a certain look in his great dark eyes.
"Shout for me. Let me test your Thu'um." he rumbled, as he suddenly breathed fire onto the word wall, a draconic word forming in flaming colours. "Go to this rotmulaag, the Word of Power. I shall gift you my knowledge of the word…if you can tell me what it is." His tone was challenging, and Darlayah always accepted a challenge. She approached the word, and saw the dragon script glow. Good thing I learnt to read dragon…, Darlayah thought to herself, and see scanned her memory to see what symbols meant what. Paarthurnax waited patiently.
"Yol! It says yol!" Darlayah announced proudly, as Paarthurnax raised his colossal head.
"Well done, mortal. You know our tongue, don't you? Well, I promised to gift you myonikaan, my…wisdom." he raised his head and wings, as he channeled his knowledge of the Word into Darlayah's mind, and soon, she had mastered the word as though she were Dragonborn. "Now, show me your Voice. Let me taste the Thu'um!" the dragon roared, and Darlayah didn't dare disobey. She gathered up her strength, and forcefully shouted, "YOL!", and spat forth flames like a dragon, almost falling back from the force. Paarthurnax bowed. "You have experience in learning the shouts. I can tell. Now, where were we?"
"I needed to find a Dragonborn." Darlayah said, now feeling suddenly brave and daring, unafraid of the beast before her.
"Ah, yes, the Dovahkiin. Soul of a dovah,body of a mortal. Mul ahrk morokei. I have sensed the killing of my dov, my kin. I know this was no ordinary slaying. The Dovahkiin is here, and he is unaware of his moro, his glory." Paarthurnax said boldly. Although he looked uncomfortable talking about dragon slaying, he seemed fine about telling Darlayah about the Dragonborn.
Was this dragon to be trusted?
If this beast was telling the truth, there was a Dragonborn. No doubt his arrival was because of Alduin's return. But wait - Darlayah still had to find Galdur. Who was more important? Galdur, or the Dragonborn?
"Paarthurnax, where can I find the Dragonborn? Is he in Skyrim?" Darlayah asked. Galdur would be easy to find, no doubt.
The dragon shut his eyes, almost as though he was sensing something.
"He is in Skyrim, yes, but he travels. He does not stay in one place. But he moves volaan, quickly. Something is not right." The dragon replied, and Darlayah knew that Galdur would have to wait.
"Do you know where he could be, or where he might be headed?" the breton asked.
Paarthurnax stared into the distance. "No. But I trust you will find him. Go, find this Dragonborn, bo volaan, joor. Be swift."
And with those words in mind, Darlayah set off down the mountain to the Falkreath sanctuary.
"So, you need to find a…'Dragonborn'…but you also need to find Galdur?" Gabriella sighed. "You've got a lot going on right now. But I trust you're feeling better?" Darlayah nodded. "Thank goodness. Now, do you know where to find a 'Dragonborn'?" the Dunmer asked, and Darlayah shook her head. "Well, that makes things difficult. What about Galdur?"
"Oh, I definitely know where he is. Riften. Ratway. Thieves Guild." The breton replied, "I think I can find him by myself though." she added, and Gabriella looked down to the floor. "When I find out where the Dragonborn is, then you can come with me."
Gabriella nodded, before heading off, leaving Darlayah in the dining room. She sat down with a sigh, holding her head in her hands and muttering to herself. What if Galdur wasn't there? What if he knew she was looking for him? What if it wasn't him?
Oh, it's definitely him alright. Who else knew about that stupid little poem?
"Darlayah! There you are." Astrid walked into the room, grinning like she had a plan. Wait, she did have a plan…
"It's about the Keeper, isn't it?" Darlayah replied, looking up at her leader. "That I need to find out who he's talking to, blah blah blah…kill if necessary…" she listed bluntly. Astrid tilted her head.
"You seem unsure."
"Well, he is the Keeper. He's so obsessed with his 'precious Night Mother' that he couldn't possibly betray us. Remember, he still follows those Tenets!"
The Tenets were five rules which governed the Dark Brotherhood for a very, very long time. When Astrids little group formed in the Falkreath Sanctuary, they abandoned these Tenets. Cicero did not approve of this at all.
"But you said yourself, 'he wanted to get away from me pretty quick'. Gabriella told me." Astrid was right. That Keeper was suspicious, and suspicious meant investigate.
"What do you want me to do, Astrid? Sneak into the coffin?" Her sarcastic tone annoyed Astrid a little. "Thats the only place I couldhide! And imagine what would happen if he caught me…" Images of the training dummy came to mind. That dummy may as well be Darlayah.
"Well, don't get caught." Wait, what?
"You mean…I have to sneak into the Night Mother's coffin? That's disgusting. No way am I doing that." Darlayah snapped, and Astrid crossed her arms. "Oh, fine. But if I'm chopped into stew by the time it's over, my ghost will be coming back to get you." she muttered. Astrid smirked.
"Hmm hm hm! Dum dum dee deeeee…" Uh-oh.
"Quick, Dee, run up into his room, and hide in that coffin before he and his little friend get there…!" Astrid whispered, and Darlayah obediently obeyed.
She stealthily slid into his room before the jester had even reached the stairs, and she stared at the big, dark coffin in front of her. It was upright, so it should be easy enough. She opened the two doors, and inside was the corpse of the Night Mother. Darlayah whined. She had seen Draugr; fought against wizard's undead; watched as a dragon is resurrected, flesh sticking itself to the ancient bone…yet there was something about thisbody that terrified her.
She reluctantly shut the doors behind her, staring at the Night Mother's corpse, which stood wrapped up and cold in the huge metal coffin. Darlayah suddenly heard footsteps.
"Are we alone? Yes...yes...alone. Sweet solitude! No one will hear us, disturb us. Everything is going according to plan..."
While Darlayah had been learning her Shouts, Nazir had been taking care of…business. The contact who 'forgot' to tell him about the vampire turned out to be a little friend of Darlayah's.
The Redguard had travelled to Riften, trying to find the man. He was in the Ratway, and seemed rather terrified when Nazir approached him, dagger in hand. It turned out, that the man knew that Darlayah would receive the contract, and that he had hoped she'd be killed.
Nazir had also taken a trip to the Temple of Mara, and done his own investigations. Sure enough, Darlayah's symbol was there.
On his way back to the sanctuary, Nazir's mind was filled with questions. Why did the contact want the breton dead? What had she done? And why was Darlayah's symbol in the temple? So many questions…and none could be answered right now.
Wait. Darlayah said something about the poem she had found in the Temple's mess, about how only one other person knew about it. What was his name? Gerdur…Gauld…Galdur! That was it.
Hang on a minute, Nazir thought. What was the contacts name again?
This is going nowhere...
Darlayah had been listening intently to Cicero's conversation. So far, the other person had remained silent, and Cicero had been ranting on about random things. The breton had gotten used to being with the Night Mother's corpse, and had taken to shutting her eyes to listen harder.
"What about you? Have you...have you spoken to anyone? No...no, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and the saying!" the jester rambled, and Darlayah could tell he was getting mad. "And what do you do? Hmm? Nothing!" Whoever was with him was most likely not being the most helpful person.
"Not...not that I'm angry! No, never! Cicero understands. Heh. Cicero always understands! And obeys..." he continued.
She then zoned out for a while, and she could swear she heard a cold, dark voice inside her head. It must be nothing. She pushed the voice out of her head, and listened further to Cicero, picking out words and phrases and putting them together.
"You will talk when you're ready, won't you? Won't you..." Why was the other person so silent? What was going on here?
"…sweet Night Mother…" Wait. What?
Night Mother? He was talking to the Night Mother? I spent ten minutes sitting next to a corpse for THIS?
Then the voice returned.
"Poor Cicero. Dear Cicero. Such a humble servant. But he will never hear my voice. For he is not the Listener." Wait...was the voice what Darlayah thought it was?
Cicero continued. "Oh, but how can I defend you? How can I exert your will? If you will not speak? To anyone!" He began to raise his voice.
Once again, the mysterious voice spoke. "Oh, but I will speak. I will speak to you. For you are the one." This can't be right. Was that voice…the Night Mother? Maybe the breton was hearing things...
"Yes, you. You, who shares my iron tomb, who warms my ancient bones. I give you this task - journey to Volunruud. Speak with Amaund Motierre."
"Poor Cicero has failed you. Poor Cicero is sorry, sweet mother. I tried, so very hard. But I just can't find the Listener." Cicero muttered from outside the coffin.
"Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he has been waiting for, all these years:
'Darkness rises when silence dies." The Night Mother said, and Darlayah was beginning to feel slightly afraid.
Suddenly, the coffin flew open, and Darlayah turned to see a red-faced jester who looked as though he was going to explode.
"What? What treachery! Defiler! Debaser an defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother's coffin! Explain yourself!" he roared, an awful sound that echoed through Darlayah's head. She remained silent, trying to speak, before Cicero, without any warning, leapt at her, grabbing her shoulders and pinning her to the ground, his ebony dagger in his hand, waiting. "Speak worm!" he spat, and Darlayah could barely speak in her terror.
"Th-th-the Night M-Mother..." she muttered, unable to string words together. Cicero drew the dagger closer to her neck.
"I said SPEAK!"
"She spoke! She spoke...!" she cried, and Cicero furrowed his brows. "To...me..."
"She...spoke to you? More treachery! More trickery and deceit!" he growled, and he put the dagger up to Darlayah's neck. "You lie! The Night Mother speaks only to the Listener!" The poor breton was now terrified, struggling to release herself from Cicero's grip. "And there is...no...Lister!" he bellowed, and pressed his ebony dagger down, a single red bead of blood appearing on the end. Darlayah had to think fast.
"Darknessriseswhensilencedies!" she came out with, much too quickly for most people to understand. But Cicero seemed to grasp some of the words.
His grip loosened. "...what?"
"Darkness...rises...w-when silence...d-dies..." she muttered, shivering with fright. "She...said to tell you...th-those words..."
All of a sudden, the jester dropped the dagger, leaving it to roll off Darlayah onto the ground next to her face. She whimpered. Cicero's eyes widened.
"She...she said that? She said those words...to you? 'Darkness rises when silence dies'?" he muttered in disbelief. Darlayah nodded, closing her eyes as if bracing for some sort of impact. "But those are the words. The Binding Words. Written in the Keeping Tomes. The signal so I would know. Mother's only way of talking to sweet Cicero..." Sweet? You were about to kill me!
He suddenly got up, leaving Darlayah curled up on the floor in fear, and started dancing about like a lunatic. "Then...it is true! She is back! Our Lady is back! She has chosen a Listener! She has chosen you! Ha ha ha! All hail the Listener!" he exclaimed happily, spinning around the room as though he were a tornado. Darlayah slowly, and cautiously, tried to get up, only to find her being pulled off the ground by the jester, who started spinning her around with him.
"Get...off me!" she hissed, pushing him away. He still continued his dancing, laughing all the while. But something made him stop. He paused, quickly glancing towards the door.
"By Sithis, this ends now! Back away, fool! Whatever you've been planning is over!" Astrid yelled, and soon, Cicero was dancing again. Astrid ran over to Darlayah, who had a small cut on her neck from where the dagger had been. "Are you all right? I heard the commotion. Who was Cicero talking to? Where's the accomplice? Reveal yourself, traitor!"
Darlayah tried to get her breath back in order to speak, but Cicero stole her words.
"I spoke only to the Night Mother!" he said innocently. "I spoke to the Night Mother, but she didn't speak to me. Oh no. She spoke only to her!" he pointed at Darlayah, who was still quite scared. "To the Listener!" he spun around once more, and Astrid growled.
"What? The Listener? What are you going on about? What is this lunacy?" she snapped, approaching the jester with her daedric dagger in her hand, unafraid of the man.
"It's true, it's true! The Night Mother has spoken! The silence has been broken! The Listener has been broken!" Darlayah thought Cicero's voice was getting most irritating, and it was obvious Astrid had already discovered that. She looked like she was about to slit the jester's throat.
She managed to contain her anger, sheathing her dagger before heading towards Darlayah, who was as confused as ever. "When I heard Cicero screaming, I knew you'd been discovered. I feared the worst. Are you alright?" she asked, before she looked at the little bit of blood on the breton's neck. "He did this to you?" she cried, treating it as though Cicero had cut off Darlayah's arms.
"Astrid! Calm down, it's nothing. I'm fine. It just...happened so fast." Darlayah said quickly. Why am I defending that stupid clown? She thought to herself.
Astrid sighed. "Okay, let's all take a deep breath. Cicero said he spoke to the Night Mother, but she spoke to you? Please tell me this is some kind of a sick joke."
"I guess it's true. The Night Mother spoke, I heard her voice. She said I was 'the one'..." Darlayah replied, rubbing her neck. Astrid's expression changed to a perplexed one.
"So...Cicero wasn't talking to anyone else. Just...the Night Mother's body?" Darlayah nodded. "And the Night Mother, who, according to everything we know, will only speak to the person chosen as Listener...just spoke. Right now..." Astrid tilted her head in her confused state. "...to you?" Darlayah muttered a quick 'yes'.
"By Sithis. And...what did she say?" she didn't sound like she believed it all, but Astrid seemed willing to listen to what the 'Listener' had to say.
"She said that I must speak to someone...called Amaund Motierre, in Volunruud, I think." Darlayah replied, calming down.
"Amaund Motierre? I have no idea who that is. But Volunruud...that I have heard of. And I know where it is." her tone was suspicious, and Darlayah suspected that this contract wasn't going to be fulfilled.
"So...should I go? To Volunruud? I should speak to this man?"
"The Night Mother may have spoken to you, but I am still the leader of this Family." I knew it. "I will not have my authority so easily dismissed." Darlayah sighed. "I...I need time to think about all this. Go see Nazir - do some work for him. I'll find you when I'm ready to discuss the matter further." And with that, Astrid left. Cicero stopped his dancing, and went over to Darlayah, who seemed a little crestfallen.
"Don't worry Listener, Astrid will understand some day..." He said, patting the breton's back. She retaliated, slapping Cicero's hand. He whined, rubbing his hand and looking at Darlayah innocently. "What did poor Cicero do wrong?" he pouted, and Darlayah rolled her eyes.
"You almost killed me!" she hissed, and Cicero took a step back.
"I...I thought you were trying to fool me!" the jester whined. "Poor Cicero thought you were a pretender!" his voice showed traces of anger, but he seemed to keep it inside. Did it have anything to do with being 'Listener'?
"Cicero..did...did you want to be Listener?" Darlayah asked, in a much more gentle tone. The jester sighed.
"Oh...well...yes. I did. I did indeed. I tried to listen. Tried so hard. But the Night Mother never spoke to poor silence became almost...maddening." he muttered, staring at the stone floor. Darlayah felt pity for him.
No...I don't. That fool tried to kill me! But...he was only doing his job in defending the Night Mother...
"Oh, but that was then! This is now! You're the Listener, and the Night Mother chose you for a reason, I'm sure! Cicero will remain the happy Keeper..." Cicero wasn't happy. Darlayah could tell. He wanted to be Listener, there was some hope, and now, Darlayah was. The poor thing must be devastated, she thought, feeling guilty. Don't feel guilty, you couldn't help it, could you?
"Dreh ni kos krent...naal krosis." she muttered to the jester, who tilted his head in confusion. Darlayah would often say in the Dragon Language what she couldn't say normally. She knew many words, but would often stammer a little due to the fact she didn't usually speak the language. "Morah...nau hin...heyv, Cicero." Leaving the bewildered man behind, Darlayah went to go find Nazir.
