Author's Note:

We're at the last two chapters before the final plotline and I'm so excited to share it all :) For these two chapters, we'll be taking another character's perspective again and I hope it will be an interesting one ;)

Again I wanna thank everyone who's still sticking around and reading. I'm so excited to share the rest of the book with you all and the following one as well. Almost there ;)

Enjoy the read :3


Chapter CXXXIX – Darkness Rises

He watched the darkness across the city illuminated only by the lanterns on the posts by the road.

His life had changed that day.

Ever since he heard that voice seeping into every fiber of his being, his whole existence was shaken to the core, stricken with a new purpose he could not have even imagined. The darkness called to him like it had been waiting for him all his life, looming, ready to envelop him in its embrace.

Gaius Maro, the Commander's son, was no more. He was something else now. Something more.

The Listener.

It scared him at first. Terrified him to the very core. But now, the memory just filled him with something else. A new sense of purpose. This was what he was here for. All the events that led to this just felt… cataclysmic.

He only came to say goodbye to his father that day. The father he had always strived to make proud, to follow in his footsteps. Now he knew that his path was going to be different. Filled with blood and death of those chosen as the Night Mother's victims. But that was alright. It took some time for him to wrap his mind around this, but he had accepted it. This was all for the greater good, for the greater purpose. This would all help restore something that had almost been lost. An order long forgotten. A balance long tipped to one side only.

He did not resent his father for leading him onto this path unwittingly. He was grateful to him. Grateful for the chance to prove his mettle in unexpected ways. And he would prove himself.

That day. He remembered it like it was yesterday, even though more than a month had passed since then. It started off so confusing, so chaotic before he could make sense of it.

He heard the voice when he interrupted his father's interrogation. The voice was whispering to him about darkness to come, about the role he was supposed to play in it. Cicero knew. He could tell instantly and Gaius was only more terrified by that realization. He opted to leave. He wanted to forget that anything like that had ever happened. He wanted to go on with his life. He wanted to forget it in sweet Faida's warm embrace. She may have been one of many on his travels, but her spunk and wit always enchanted him in a special way.

But that was the first night. It was the first time losing himself between her legs didn't erase the memories from his mind. Not like they managed to erase the memories of rough battles and of losing dear friends. Not like they managed to erase the memories of his mother's death, if even for a while. That night, all he could hear behind her lustful moans was that voice.

It was imprinted into his mind forever. He knew. Just then, he knew that he could never forget it.

And he didn't even want to.

He needed to know more. He needed to know why that voice spoke to him, what he had done to earn the attention of that… corpse.

He didn't leave the next morning. Instead, he waited for his father to lock himself in his office with all his investigation reports and he came back to the interrogation room.

Nobody stopped him. Nobody thought twice about it. He was there often. He visited his father and he barged into any room that he could find him in. Nobody cared that he wasn't in on their most secretive mission. Acilus's Maro's son. He was privileged. He was admired. He would never do anything to hinder the efforts of the Penitus Oculatus.

The jester was beside himself when Gaius returned. But the man himself didn't even care at that time. He just wanted to hear it again. That voice. He needed to. It was like skooma, or so he imagined. It drew him back in with the incessant memories, the incessant intrigue.

"Say it, say it, say it. Tell Mother's sweet, sweet words to poor, caged Cicero."

He heard the jester chant constantly. He was just annoyed that the man was making so much noise when he needed to listen to the corpse. And then he heard it. And then he said it. He didn't even want to speak, but the words fell out of his lips almost on their own.

"Darkness rises when silence dies."

It felt like a chant. An anthem. A prayer. Something so clandestine and foreboding, he couldn't help but be intrigued.

He didn't know what it meant just yet. But then the voice fell silent again and everything was made clear when another spoke. Cicero couldn't stop talking. He couldn't stop telling him all about his new role, his new destiny.

The Listener. The only one to hear the words of the Night Mother. A chosen one. One finger of the Black Hand.

When he saw the intrigue and excitement in Gaius's eyes, Cicero started to plan.

It was simple really. The Brotherhood needed to know. They wouldn't trust him – Cicero was sure of it – but they needed to know. They needed to see it for themselves. He would be in danger. Cicero was captured and they would assume that he had talked too much to the wrong people. But that wasn't the case. He talked to the right person. Just the person he needed to talk to.

Cicero had a plan, though it was frustratingly imperfect. All Gaius needed to do was to get the Night Mother out of there. There was nothing more important to the jester than to have their Mother freed from the hands of the enemy. The details didn't seem important to Cicero at all – he was confident that as Acilus's son, Gaius would handle things. All he needed to do was to hide the Night Mother in an abandoned tower in Haafingar, west of Dragon Bridge and south of Northwatch Keep. The jester called it Pinefrost Tower – it was one of the places where the Brotherhood had a dead drop, apparently. There was supposed to be some crate outside the tower where he would leave them a note and then just… wait.

Gaius wasn't sure what he was going to be waiting for. Suddenly, he was all alone in this. There was no way to get Cicero out. He sacrificed his safety for now in order to save the Mother and bring the Listener 'home', to the family.

But that was fine. He wouldn't really be alone to face the assassins.

The Night Mother would guide him.

Cicero's plan may have been a little naïve, but lucky for him, Gaius had means of his own and intriguing ideas to boot. All he needed was to talk to the right people, tell them the right things. And so, two days later, he was loading the heavy coffin up on a carriage securely with the help of several Penitus Oculus agents. The spymaster in Cyrodiil had requested it after all.

And of course, Gaius was to transport it alone, covered by various inconspicuous items that any Imperial transport could carry. To make it seem too armed and too secure with plenty of backup coming with him would only attract unnecessary attention. The Penitus Oculatus knew how to be subtle.

He arrived at the tower that very day and he moved the sarcophagus inside the tower where it wouldn't be visible from the outside. The Mother whispered to him sometimes, praising him for his approach. She almost reminded him of his own mother. He missed her so much. This felt… good. No matter who this was, sometimes he needed a mother's love.

He composed the letter there and placed it inside the crate along with five blooms of nightshade, just as Cicero had instructed. 'Five for the five tenets' he kept saying. Gaius had no idea what that meant yet. But he didn't care. He was on a new path just now. An unexpectedly exciting one.

It wasn't too exciting to be waiting there though. He had brought plenty of supplies for this alone, but when a week passed, he was beginning to be impatient.

But then, finally, he spotted a figure in black armor approaching the tower from his vantage point on the second half-crumbled floor.

The person looked quite small. Gaius still remembered his surprise at the series of events.

"Are you trying to hide now?" the voice echoed through the tower. He saw that figure look inside the crate and read the letter, but he couldn't see it properly. She had a hood on her head and was all dressed in black robes with red accents. Based on her frame, he had suspected some abnormally small elf.

Now the voice surprised him.

She sounded like an actual child. It freaked him out to no end. What was going on?

"You call and then you hide," her voice rang through the tower as she slowly started to ascend the stairs. "This would sound like a trap, you know. But if that was the case, you would sorely regret that action soon. No matter how many of you are there, you have no idea who you're dealing with."

A child? A child assassin? Really?

The girl came into view soon enough. She looked small and fragile with black hair falling from below her hood and almost to her knees, but his eyes instantly landed on her face. The bright glowing eyes, the bared fangs, ready to sink into someone's neck, and then the hands, lit up with bright red light.

A vampire!

He didn't even manage to say a word. A stream of red lights erupted from her small hands and circled him. Consuming weakness wrecked his body within a second and he was forced to fall to his knees heavily, his breathing labored.

"A precaution. Just so you know your place while I verify your message. Pfft, 'Listener'. We've heard THAT before," she sneered.

Yes, the false Listener. Gaius heard about that. He heard about everything that happened.

'Calm, child.'

The Mother's voice seeped into his mind. She was right. Calm. It was important to stay calm. He had nothing to hide. He was here for this – to make contact with the Brotherhood and to return Mother home.

"Hmm… she's actually here," the girl noted as she opened the sarcophagus to check for Mother. "Just a moment." Her hands lit up again, this time with a bright white light. Gaius recognized the spell. The Penitus Oculatus used this frequently to stave off unexpected attacks – the dispelling of clairvoyance magic. The light enveloped both the Mother and him in a moment.

"Good. Now that's taken care of," the girl smirked before she turned her attention back to Gaius. "So… you claim you are the Listener and that you freed the Night Mother at Cicero's instructions. You do know that I recognize you, don't you? We will all recognize you. We watch our enemies closely."

"I'm not your enemy," Gaius sighed. "My father is."

"Yes. And it would be kinda stupid of him to send his son and expect us to trust him. Then again, maybe that's what he's counting on us to assume. Hmm…"

"What do you want from me? Darkness rises when silence dies," Gaius quickly uttered those words, just like he had before. The 'binding words', Cicero had called them.

"Yeah, that doesn't mean anything anymore. You're not the first one to say them lately," the girl shook her head morosely. "I was really excited back then when Cicero came to us, you know? The Night Mother. The Black Hand. Like the old tales. They don't remember, but I do. I'm the only one old enough to remember. Appearances are deceiving," she chuckled. "But I remember the days of glory and darkness before the purges."

Gaius was finally starting to get some strength back and he tried to stand up, but before he could as much as move properly, the lights started to circle him again, crushing his body, making his knees weak.

"Uh-uh. Not yet," the girl scoffed.

"I… I can hear her," Gaius panted in the sudden bout of exhaustion again. "I swear I can hear her. Mother, talk to me."

"Yes, Mother, talk to him. Tell him something he can't know to convince me," the girl smirked at the corpse, as if she was confident that this was all a ruse. She didn't even bother hiding her vampirism with illusion magic like many of them did. She WANTED him to see. She wanted to bare her fangs at him the entire time – a clear threat of what was to come the second her suspicions panned out.

But they wouldn't.

Surely the Mother wouldn't let that happen, would she?

'Babette, my child of the night. You have fed little today. Only what dwindling supplies remained of what you took from the crippled carriage driver two nights ago.'

The voice filled him with warmth and certainty. This wouldn't be the day he would die. Mother wouldn't let her Listener die.

"Babette," he looked at her hopefully.

"Oh," the girl seemed surprised, clearly beyond intrigued, but still quite skeptical.

"You killed a crippled carriage driver two nights ago. Today you only fed on what you had left of him," Gaius nodded with determination. A disturbing image, certainly, but this was not his first dance with a 'child of the night'. The spawn of Molag Bal were capable of so much worse. So much more deadly. The creatures had always intrigued him to some measure.

"Hmm. Interesting," Babette nodded with palpable giddiness in her expression. "Could this really be it?"

"How else would I know?" Gaius shook his head. The weakness started to dissipate again, but this time, Babette didn't cast the spell.

"I'm not sure. But we'll see. I can't leave the Mother with you. Not yet. But… hmm… I will bring the others. We'll see. But you need to stay here. You better have enough food until then."

Gaius only shook his head. It had taken so long already. His supplies were dwindling.

"Oh. I could bring you a deer," Babette's tone was oddly biting and her voice even more child-like than before. "Or… perhaps I could offer you another way of sustaining yourself. Forever."

"Why don't we stick to the deer for now?" Gaius chuckled nervously. As intriguing as vampires were, he was not exactly eager to experience it for himself.

"Hah! As if I would share my gift with someone who might still be an enemy," the girl smirked. "And I'm not hunting for you either. If you really are the Listener, you better be capable of being one of us. If hunger in the wilderness can best you, the Mother would do well to choose a different child."

Well… that was kind of fair.

"I'm taking your carriage and your horse to take Mother back. Make yourself useful and help me get her up there," she gestured to him impatiently.

"You're gonna ride alone? You're so… little. Won't that raise suspicion?" Gaius scowled at her. An Imperial soldier with a full carriage was normal. A barely ten year old child? Not so much.

"You mean, even after," her lips suddenly started to quiver. "After those meanie bandits killed my papa?" she sniffled exaggeratedly as a single tear fell from her eye. "You… you really think nobody will help me, ride with me to protect me?"

Gaius blinked at her performance a few times. Her sobs seemed really genuine, even when he knew they were not.

"In that case, it's a relief that I have my own means," she chuckled, her eyes gleaming with mischief. He knew what she was referring to. He heard about this – vampires had a strange ability to charm unsuspecting people to do their bidding.

"I… uh… I see your point," Gaius nodded. He probably shouldn't question her. How old was she? She said that she had seen the Brotherhood's days of glory. That was what? Two, three hundred years ago, back when they were active in every corner of Tamriel?

"Good. Then up on your feet. You should really be fine by now. How frail are you 'spies'?" she smirked at him before she started to close the coffin again. "Come, come. Mother needs to go home."

Gaius stood up a little weakly still. The spell had some unpleasant lingering effect, but he had to overcome it and prove that he wasn't some weak unfortunate choice that needed to be replaced. And as he neared the sarcophagus, the seeping voice of Mother echoed in his ears again. Elated. Filled with anticipation.

'Home.'

He was uneasy.

He wasn't sure why at first, but then it gradually became clear. He was uneasy without Mother around. Without that voice reassuring him. It was a slightly disturbing realization – how much his life had changed after that day. How much that voice affected him, filled him with this purpose.

It felt like it took forever before other people came by the tower – more assassins.

There were three of them this time – Babette, along with a tall clearly Nord woman and a lumbering hulk next to her. They were all in their black armors with hoods over their faces and masks covering their mouths. As if it mattered if he saw them. But he was willing to play whatever games they needed.

They questioned him for a long time. About what happened, what did they get out of Cicero, what did the Mother say, how did he manage to transport her here. Just… everything. It was uncomfortable. They still didn't seem too convinced. And the woman questioning him, Astrid, just seemed more and more peeved by his answers, even though Babette looked quite elated most of the time through the palpable doubts. The last one, the large man, was just glowering menacingly the entire time.

They started to discuss things after that as if Gaius wasn't even there. They talked about the false Listener, how quickly they found out that he was lying when the Silver-Blood confirmed that he hadn't called on them. They never returned to that grove where they had left Cicero and the Mother. They knew it would have been a trap. They spoke about how easy it was to verify these things but how easy it was to stage them too. They talked about how they needed to learn from the past mistakes and betrayals. It was surprising that they had this discussion in front of him, but he was starting to realize that it wasn't carelessness. He needed to see. To see how easy it was to slip up. How simple it was to them to uncover the truth, to suss out the traitors in their midst.

It was a warning.

But he needn't be warned. He WAS the Listener. And he was ready to take on that role, whatever it entailed. It was how things should be.

In the end though, they reached a conclusion.

"He needs to prove himself," the tall woman scowled. "We don't just take in an Imperial upstart who claims to be the Listener. Those words mean NOTHING."

Babette scowled at that a little, but she let the woman continue.

"You will be watched. You will be controlled. You will do anything we say and only after we are certain we can trust you, will you be a part of our family. You haven't earned your place. Not even to the extent the other potentials had. You have done NOTHING to garner our trust aside from spewing some stupid tales about mystical voices," she growled. Cicero did say that the Brotherhood leader would be very upset by the development. This was probably her.

"How do I prove myself, then?" Gaius looked at her eagerly. He was ready.

"How do you think?" the woman scoffed at him. "Like everyone else does."

Riften was quiet at night. It wasn't the peaceful quiet any one would experience in any other hamlet or city when most common folks had gone to sleep.

Riften was always different. It was teeming with secrets and shady dealing under the cover of the night. The base of the Thieves Guild – everybody knew that. The official throne of the Skyrim underworld.

There had been talk of the Guild's waning power in the past. Now there were different things being whispered in the alleys. Of their impressive rise to former glory. Of their new ways and new leadership. Gaius didn't know how much of that was true.

But more importantly, he didn't care.

The Guild was beneath the notice of the Penitus Oculatus. They allowed them to be. Stormcloak region or not, nobody cared. They were thieves. There would always be thieves out there, there would always be an underground network of black markets, drug dealers and thugs for hire. And sometimes… these things were useful, even on official businesses for the glory of the Empire.

The Imperial spies had bigger targets in their sights after all.

It was strange to think that he himself could now be counted as one of them.

He got his answer – how to prove himself to the Brotherhood, how to hear the Mother speak again, how to get closer to her. Closer to everyone here. How to become a part of their world. He was completely absorbed in his new role in his life.

Father would be proud of him for giving it his all, surely. He always hated when he felt like Gaius was 'slacking' in the service. Well, he wasn't 'slacking' now.

The Brotherhood had a contract; commissioned by a child, no less. It wasn't even bad. An old woman had to die. An abusive old crone that was tormenting orphans. Everyone thought that the Brotherhood were just ruthless killers that slayed innocent. He wondered if they gave him this task because it was both easy to do and easy on the conscience. They wanted to test him, why this?

Maybe it was supposed to be hard to kill an old and somewhat helpless woman. Maybe it was supposed to be hard to do this secretly.

But they kept thinking they were talking to a soldier. A simple-minded kettle-head who only knew how to follow orders.

They were not. It didn't matter what assignments he was on. It didn't matter that he had nothing to do with his father's investigations before.

He was a spy.

A damn good one.

Subtlety and strategy were his forte. In many ways that his new family couldn't even imagine yet.

He couldn't wait to show them all what he was capable of.

But for now, he needed to start slow, build up the trust slowly. If that was what needed to be done, so be it. This was far from his first kill. It wasn't even his first civilian.

He got the armor from them. It was old and worn and torn in a few places – clearly a throwaway one. But it didn't matter much. The rest was on him. Whatever equipment he needed, whatever money he had to spend, it was all in his hands. He would get nothing out of the Brotherhood until he earned a little trust.

That was fine. He liked proving people wrong. He liked surprising them.

He walked through the side alleys and towards the edge of town where the orphanage was. The old crone would be fast asleep by now for certain. He just had to be careful not to wake the children. The boots he got, though old, were muffled and he got himself some invisibility potions and lockpicks in case he needed them. He was all set. Ready to strike.

He made it all the way to the side of the orphanage. There were guards around, but once he got near, he gulped down one of the potions to avoid any notice. The Empire provided. He had a lot of money to spare for this, even if the Brotherhood was stingy and mistrustful.

He knew the layout. All he needed to do was get city plans from an Imperial outpost in the Rift. They all had them, even though it didn't seem like it. Hidden camps, subtly infiltrated cavern systems, all to have safe places to retreat to for the scouts and spies. The Stormcloaks had them too in the controlled areas, but those brutes weren't important now. The military camp had the city and building plans in case they needed to take it by force down the line. Intelligence like that was invaluable – they had plenty of copies ripe for the taking. And Gaius had the clearance and status to take it all. He knew exactly where the hag was sleeping.

He crept below her window, still invisible, and he slid a slim wire in between the individual parts, right in the middle where it opened. Soon enough, the wire caught on a hatch and brought it up, making the whole thing creak open slightly. He had his access. But first, he looked over his shoulder to the guards by the nearby gate. They didn't even seem to notice. Why would they? It was just someone opening a window from the inside after all, for all they knew.

He waited a few seconds while the wind blew the window open a little wider on its own before he slipped inside. Perfect. Just before the potion's effects dissipated. The old woman was sleeping peacefully in her bed, covered haphazardly with a thick blanket. Even Nords got cold in their old age, it seemed. Or maybe she was just doing it out of principle. From what he had heard, she was the one eating full meals and sleeping in warmth and comfort while the children were freezing and starving. Maybe it served this one right.

It was so easy. He just took out his knife and slit her throat right then and there. His other hand went over her mouth and nose, effectively muffling any gurgling sound she tried to make in her last few seconds.

It was over before it really even began. She bled out like a pig, right there on that bed.

Gaius had never assassinated anyone before. All his kills were… public or just self-defense. But it felt the same really. What difference did it make? An enemy killed in plain sight for defying the Empire and plotting against it, or this one, sleeping peacefully while she fully intended to ruin children's lives the next day.

Maybe it would feel bad when he had someone else to kill. Someone less despicable. He had expected this to feel different. He had expected this to feel bad.

But maybe it never would. Maybe what he was doing mattered more than their lives.

He wasn't going to figure any of his philosophical ponderings just standing there over the woman's corpse though. He had one more thing to do. Babette told him to, despite Astrid's constant scoffs and eye-rolls. The girl told him about the Black Hand. He was one of them now – those that spoke for the Night Mother, did the bidding of the Dread Father. They used to be infamous. Whenever someone was targeted by the Black Hand, it meant something. People knew.

Babette wanted former glory. She wanted the old days of fear and uncertainty. She wanted to feel even more like an intimidating hunter in the masses ripe for her picking.

He could indulge her.

His hand gripped the dead woman's neck, letting the blood coat his leather glove. When he was satisfied enough with how long he had left it there, he removed the hand and smacked it against the headboard.

A calling card.

The Black Hand.

Well… it was red, but the message was clear. This woman was targeted by the Dark Brotherhood.

And everyone would know soon.

It was the dawn of a new Era. And he couldn't help but be thrilled about the obliviousness of so many people around him.

If only they knew what was coming.