Chapter 3: Nightmare

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Cicero woke up in his bed feeling so strange. He looked around the room and noticed it had some familiar furniture and objects. He then realized He was back in Tamriel, in his home in Bruma. Beside his bed he saw his legionnaire training dagger. He looked right and up the wall, and on his wall he saw his imperial bow and quiver, just above was the Imperial Dragon insignia of the Mede Empire.

It was so weird for him that how can he still have these? when long ago he got rid of them after he quit trying to qualify for General Tullius's elite nightblade forces which were to be deployed in covert operations in the Summerset Isles. Despite being so good with sneaky surprise attacks with knives or bows, and use of invisibility, he never passed the last tests to qualify as an elite nightblade - that was he can't infuse an arrow with a paralysis spell and he had a hard time detecting live and undead entities because he never mastered his Alteration magic skills. Enraged that he couldn't make it, he quit the legion and joined the Dark Brotherhood.

Cicero got up and tried to process in his mind what was going on, why was he back in his house in Bruma? Suddenly, he heard voice, a woman's voice.

"Cicero..." a loud whisper echoed through the room. This made him panic. He took his training dagger from his bed and drew out a paralysis spell on his left.

"Who are you! shooooow yourself!" Cicero said angrily.

Then suddenly, the walls on the room started to disintegrate, revealing a dark void outside. Cicero couldn't move, he looked down and noticed there were Rose vines coming out from the ground and started to entangle his leg.

"Gaaaaah! by Sithis you will pay for that" Cicero said as the thorns were piercing his skin.

Cicero drew a Transmutation spell on his left hand to try and turn the vines into something less harmful but, alas, he couldn't move to point the spell on the vines. Cicero is trapped, paralyzed, and doomed to die.

"Do not be afraid Cicero. I... am... the nightmother..."

"Mother! poor Cicero is happy that finally!... he heard the sweet whisper of... the Nightmother!" Cicero was so elated despite having his entire body pierced with rose thorns. The Nightmother's whisper finally grazed his ears, and that's all that mattered to him.

The Nightmother appeared from the darkness and slowly walked to the entangled Imperial. Cicero could see the Nightmother. Her entire body was completely burned! she still wore the bandages Cicero had placed on her corpse for maintenance. The Nightmother reached for Cicero's jester's hat and removed it.

"My poor Cicero... look at the state of you" she said as she stroked Cicero's long red hair.

"I am fine Nightmother!... Cicero is completely fine!... but what about you mother? There is no more Keeper!... I must come back! yes! come back! and become the keeper once again!" Cicero screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Dear poor Cicero..." She continued to stroke his hair. "Do not fret my son, Nazir is the New keeper, the Dark Brotherhood is doing just as well as though you're still alive."

"Cicero is pleased to know." he said and smiled.

Cicero's elated feeling turned into sorrow when familiar faces stated to appear from the void behind the Nightmother. They were walking towards Cicero. He saw Alisanne Dupre, Astrid, Rasha, and lastly, the Jester. All of them did not look alive at all, they all retained the fatal wounds they took before dying.
All of them stopped walking as they were just a few steps behind the Nightmother. Cicero could see them closer, he could only imagine how painful their deaths might have been judging from their wounds. The Nightmother spoke again still stroking Cicero's hair.

"My poor Cicero. You have suffered through so much just to protect me and the Dark Brotherhood. For that I will end your suffering forever... I WILL REMOVE THE CURSE OF THE JESTER, and you will be free. From now on, you will once again enjoy... peace."

"But mother..." Cicero protested.

"Hush, my child" she said.

The vines started to make their way on Cicero's lips and wrapped their spiked stems around his mouth to the back of his neck. Cicero could no longer speak. The Nightmother held Cicero's face with both hands, she leaned closer and closer, then kissed Cicero on his forehead. She then breathed in slowly removing the Jester's curse she gave to Cicero that comforted him from loneliness for years.

Then Cicero looked at the Jester behind the Nightmother, the wound in his throat disappeared. He smiled at him, bowed down, turned his back and disappeared from the void. The Nightmother spoke again.

"My poor Cicero... forgive Rasha"

Cicero looked at Rasha, her neck wound disappeared, she looked at him, smiled, then she disintegrated out of sight.

"Forgive... Astrid"

He saw Astrid's burned skin turning back into yellowish brown, her entire body reverting back into the state more recognizable by Cicero before disintegrating.

"Forgive... Alisanne"

Cicero saw Alisanne's burned skin turned back into yellowish white, her long red locks caressed her beautiful face. Alisanne walked towards Cicero and said "I'm sorry Cicero... I... I didn't know.." as Alisanne was about to touch him, she slowly disintegrated. Cicero could see the pain in her eyes as she shed tears before fading.

"And lastly my son. Please forgive... yourself" The Nightmother withdrew her burnt hand from his face, turned around and walked towards the dark void. This was the the last time Cicero will ever hear the whisper of the Nightmother.

Cicero started to sob uncontrollably as he disintegrated from the void.

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Cicero woke up from his nightmare.

"Gaaaah!" Cicero screamed and quickly sat up. It was all a dream, or was it? he didn't know, either way, he was feeling weird, it was like HE WASN'T RIGHT IN THE HEAD.

An elven priest sitting on a desk noticed him.

"Bad dream?" said the elf, he chuckled as he closed a spell tome he was reading.

The elf stood up, took a cup and magically conjured up some water. "What were you dreaming about?" he said as he walked towards Cicero offering him the cup. "Here."

"Thank you" As Cicero greedily drank, he noticed that the water from the cup never seemed to run out. After he was refreshed he gave back the still-full cup to the priest.

Cicero was back in the healing room in Quel'thalas. He must have got knocked out when he fainted upon seeing his Amulet of Mara being held by the elven archer named Sylvanas Windrunner.

"Might I ask where am I, and how did I get here?" Cicero asked the priest.

"Well my friend, you're in the Halls of Recovery in Quel'thalas." said the priest as he walked back to his desk. "Our ranger general Sylvanas Windrunner reported seeing you lying down unconscious not far from a troll base-camp. The official reports say that you were allegedly attacked by trolls and was left for dead. Ranger Nathanos Marris was ordered by lady Windrunner to carry you here." The elven priest sat down and resumed his reading. "The problem with that report was when you were taken in and I examined you, your injuries did not resemble any signs of possible attacks from trolls, that was before you hit your head falling down of course. "

Cicero put his right hand on his forehead and he could feel a scar.

"Your injuries looked to be have come from a nasty fall. But, not to worry, I already healed you... twice. You can thank the Sunwell for that" said the elf.

"Sunwell?... anyway... where can I find Lady Sylvannas Windrunner?" Cicero got up, tapped on his hips to make sure he still had the Blade of Woe, he checked if he had his hat, tapped his satchel to make sure he still had some gold.

"ooh, tough luck weary human, she already left with her rangers. Our king Anasterian Sunstrider sent her to aid your Prince, Arthas Menethil's investigation on a supposed plague outbreak."

"Who? Prince Arthis Men-and-tail?... what now?" Cicero was confused who those people were.

"Oh, you're not from Lordaeron weary human?" said the elf surprised he didn't know who prince Arthas was. "Where are you from then, Stormwind? Guilneas?"

"Cyrodiil, i'm from Cyrodiil... anyway, here's for your help. Once again, thank you." Cicero opened his satchel, took out 1 gold Septim and placed it on the priest's desk before leaving the recovery hall.

The elf watched at the crazily dressed man walk out the hall, he looked at the gold coin Cicero placed on his desk and studied it: the coin contained engravings of a man's head and around the head was a name that read "Tiber Septim" The elf was so confused as to where this strange man had come from. There is no such person in Azeroth who is named Tiber Septim and he was almost 100 years old. Unless, he's from another world, maybe he's one of the beings that slipped out of the dark portal that connected Outland and Azeroth.

To be continued.