KaNack stormed into the Dawnstar Sanctuary and paused only slightly as he went past the Night Mother. Whenever she had something important to tell him, she would usually immediately contact him near the entrance. She was silent though, and the Argonian continued to run in the sanctuary past Babette. She was startled as her leader hurried past, not even acknowledging her presence. The Unchild knew that obviously something had gone wrong, and she hurried after him.

"Nazir!" the Listener barked loudly as he stopped in the meeting room in the sanctuary. The center of the stronghold provided a large open space, which had since been decorated with a large wooden table and comfy plush chairs. All Dark Brotherhood discussions and meetings took place here.

Nazir appeared from one of the many holes in the sanctuary, and looked more than slightly annoyed by tone taken by his leader. Babette also caught up with KaNack, but she was more concerned than anything.

"Something bad has happened, hasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," KaNack growled as he collapsed into his chair. He held out his hand and tried to summon his Spectral Assassin, but it was still too soon. He cursed inwardly and ran his hands through his feather-like hair. "We have very big problem. The Penitus Oculatus have returned to Skyrim."

"It can't be," whispered Babette.

"I saw their armor with my own eyes."

"Impossible! They haven't been here since you successful assassinated the Emperor!" Nazir barked. "It was probably some bandit that had gotten a hold of a set of their armor. You left plenty of bodies behind for the plundering."

"Normal bandits do NOT get the best of Cicero or my spirit!" KaNack snarled at Nazir. The Redguard finally took the time to notice that neither of the Listener's constant companions was nearby.

"Cicero?" muttered Nazir.

"The last time I saw him was last night. This morning all I found was lots of blood and Buddy's ashes. I should be able to summon him soon. He might be able to shed some light on this."

"Why would the Penitus Oculatus still be here?" asked Babette. "You killed Maro, didn't you?"

"I killed a 'Maro'," the Argonian growled. "I was worried that by killing the Commander on the docks, I would somehow trip an early alert. I didn't want anyone to know I was there before boarding the ship." The Listener's eyes narrowed. "Buddy and I killed every last man on that ship before leaving. Leaving Maro alive, however, was like only chopping the top part off a weed. The roots remained to allow it to grow once again."

"Do you think Cicero is dead?"

"My gut says no. I would think that the Keeper would be too vital a prize for Maro to just have eliminated." KaNack looked down at the table. "He'll probably try and find out where we are. He most likely wants to massacre each and every last one of us."

"Cicero may be a fool," said Babette as she put a small comforting hand on her leader's arm, "but he is no traitor. All his secrets would go to the grave with him."

"That is what I'm afraid of," hissed KaNack. "We almost lost everyone because of Astrid's poor judgment. I am NOT going to lose a man to those animals!" The Dark Brotherhood leader turned to Nazir. "Where are all the initiates?"

"Out on assignment."

"Damn. Prepare the hawks. We need to get them back here. All of them. Without Cicero, the Night Mother cannot be properly kept and preserved."

"They have to fulfill their Black Sacraments!" exclaimed Nazir in frustration. "Maybe one of us can try to tend to her. Give us more time before…"

"No one, but the Keeper will touch the Night Mother!" KaNack roared, slamming his hands onto the table as he stood out of his seat. His pale white eyes stared right into the Redguard's soul. "Do you have any idea what it must take to keep her connected to this plane? Our Lady's body has been protected and maintained since the Second Era! I will NOT allow her to fall in this age, because I allowed inexperienced hands to treat her!"

The mage trembled with rage as he continued to stare furiously at his fellow Brother.

"Only a Keeper can care for our lady! No Keeper means that the Night Mother will not be properly preserved! There will be no more Black Sacraments if Cicero is kept from the Dark Brotherhood! Sithis knows how much time we have before the cord that connects me to her is severed permanently!" The Listener pointed at Nazir. "Send the hawks, NOW!"

"Yes, Listener," he answered quietly before disappearing into the back where the messenger hawks were kept. KaNack slowly slid back into his chair as he covered his eyes. He suddenly felt exhausted; the Dark Brotherhood had come back so strongly. It was amazing how the removal of one person could lead to the downfall of it.

The small vampire took a seat in the chair next to KaNack, and rested her head on her hands as she looked at him.

"I've seen the Dark Brotherhood go through many hard times, friend. We'll prevail from this as always." The unchild gave the mage a few moments of silence before speaking again. "Has the Night Mother has spoken to you about this yet?"

"Silent as the grave," KaNack sighed. "You would think that the safe return of the Keeper would be her top priority."

"Maybe she's testing you," Babette answered simply. The statement made the Argonian uncover his eyes to stare at the alchemist. "She's been known to do that. Challenging the drive and worthiness of the Black Hand leader. "She smiled at the mage. "Don't worry, you'll pass the test. I have faith in you."

Nazir hurried back into the congregation room and took his seat, next to Babette.

"The hawks have been sent. What do we do now?"

"We wait. Alert me the moment the sun goes down."

Nazir and Babette went off to resume their normal duties as the Listener remained seated in his seat. He had to be patient. He could conjure thralls, familiars and even bound weapons with no difficulty at all. The Spectral Assassin was special; it was the only spell that forced the mage to wait, before summoning him again.

Hours passed, and still the Argonian endured the passage of time, seeming to be in almost a trance. It wasn't until much later that Babette returned once again, and leaned over so she was looking into her Listener's eyes.

"Dusk is upon us, friend," she stated gently.

KaNack wasted no time as he stood out of his chair and threw out an arm with his palm exposed. No sooner had he done so, that there was a cylinder of blue, swirling mist, followed by the arrival of the Spectral Assassin.

Lucien slowly rose his head and smiled when he saw the faces of his brother and sister from outside the Void.

"My Listener," he answered softly with a slight bow of his head.

"Buddy, you need to tell me everything that happened last night!" KaNack left the table and briskly walked over to the spirit. "What did you manage to see?"

"The night sky, Cicero's dancing," Lucien's eyes narrowed as he thought about his last encounter in the living world, "then arrows."

"I thought as much. The Penitus Oculatus have decided to finally strike once again at the Dark Brotherhood. Tell me; did you hear anything? Was there any mention of where they might have decided to make base?"

"Regrettably, I was hardly in the fray long enough to even see my assailants. Yet, I was allowed by our Dread Father to share my…"The spirits paused for a moment as he contemplated the last twenty-four hours, "disdain with those agents that the jester cast into the Void." Lucien chuckled darkly. "It was a very lengthy conversation."

"Was there any news in the Void? Did those thralls tell you anything?"

The Spectral Assassin frowned once more and folded his arms in disapproval of the question

"The Void is not a place where all information is willingly dispersed," he uttered in a reprimanding tone. "Is it not enough that the Night Mother alerts us to the many who call out to her? The absolute knowledge that belongs to deities is not a gift to be shared with those of the mortal plane!"

"I told you it would be a test," Babette chimed as she joined the Argonian's side. KaNack glared down at vampire, and then looked back at the spirit.

"Since you have not told me otherwise, Cicero must not be in the Void." Lucien only nodded his head. "This confirms my conviction that Commander Maro is keeping him alive somewhere."

"Where though?" asked Babette. "Skyrim is a very big place, and in the space of a day he could have been taken to any number of places."

The Listener was silent, wracking his brain trying to think of a possible solution. Babette was correct. Riding about Skyrim in search for the Keeper would only waste time. They would need some proper direction before they began their mission. The Redguard, hearing the banter, made his way back to the room. KaNack's head suddenly lifted, and he pounded his fist into an open palm.

"I've got it! Buddy, Nazir, you come with me! Babette, you stay here and wait for the initiates to arrive!"

The Spectral Assassin and Redguard kept close to the mage as he rushed to the stables. KaNack worked on Shadowmere's saddle as Nazir prepared his horse, as well.

"What have you got in mind?" Nazir asked.

"She's not the most inviting person in Skyrim, but she just might have answers as to where our brother is being held." KaNack mounted the dark steed, then offered a hand to the Spectral Assassin, pulling him up onto the horse's back as well. Nazir got onto his horse as well and rode it over to the Listener.

"Who is that?"

"Olava!" the Argonian announced as he took off on Shadowmere. "To Whiterun!"

"Olava?" Nazir muttered to himself as he rode off on his horse to catch up with his leader. "She's not going to be happy about this."

Cicero had been up all night, singing song after song to his unwilling audience. Every time a new guard came to relieve the other of his duty, the show would continue. The agents could scream to their hearts desired for the jester to 'shut up', but it would do them no good.

Finally, dawn had come and a new day presented itself to Skyrim. Commander Maro arrived with Salvarus close behind, carrying a chair. Cicero had just finished his latest song, regarding a fantastic tale of cheese rain.

"You're relieved, soldier," Maro announced as he stood in front of the jester's cell.

"Oh, thank Mara!" the agent could not have left the prison room fast enough.

Maro could only smile at the jester peering out at him with a huge grin of his own.

"What did you do to my men? At first they were all lining up to guard you, but now it seems I can't get any volunteers."

"Some people just have no appreciation for the arts," Cicero sighed with a shrug. "Ah, Salvarus! Come back for more?"

"You could say that," the agent growled as he set the chair in the center of the small room.

"Oh! You're decorating! Finally! This room is so dull!"

"Cicero," started the Commander. "Be cooperative and hold your wrists out. I don't want your hands free when we take you out for questioning."

"Cicero would rather not. My hands have been bound enough, thank you very much!"

"Either do it willingly, or Salvarus can shoot you with an arrow coated in paralysis poison. Either way it's going to happen. You'll find that the Penitus Oculatus will always give you options."

"Options, my eye," the jester growled as he held his wrists out from between the bars of his cell.

Salvarus cautiously approached Cicero, expecting another trick. When he saw that the Keeper was not going to pull anything, Salvarus bound the jester's wrists much tighter than necessary, making Cicero wince slightly in pain. Only after he was perfectly secured, did Salvarus once again pull out the keys and unlock the cell. Despite his loathing for the prisoner, the agent remained professional, and led Cicero to the chair. That didn't stop him from pushing the jester roughly into it though. Old habits die hard.

"Oh! Much better!" Cicero exclaimed, not at all fazed by his rough treatment. "I do appreciate you going through all this trouble for poor Cicero."

Commander Maro pointed at Salvarus.

"Salvarus, I want you to stand back there. I know you wish to do great harm to this man, but I am going to need you to restrain yourself. No matter what this jester says or does, I want you to stand there and not do anything to interfere. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander," Salvarus answered quickly before moving a spot in the back.

"Your dog is very well trained, Maro," the Keeper snickered. "Learns quickly!"

"Perhaps you can follow suit." The Commander stood in front of the jester as he held his hands behind his back. "Cicero," Maro sighed as he shook his head. "One does not become the Dark Brotherhood leader's right hand man by being an imbecile. Please drop this jester charade."

"Why do all the Penitus Oculatus think I'm acting?" he asked. "Why shouldn't a jester be right there next to his leader? Kings and emperors have relied on the underlying wisdom of their merry men for hundreds of years! They were certainly not fools. Well, except that Mede the Second fellow. He did not have a jester, and just look what happened to him!"

The jester grunted as Maro grasped the back of fool's neck in a painfully sharp grasp. Cicero could see that this commander had run out of patience as soon as the dead emperor was brought up.

"Too soon?" Cicero asked meekly. Maro's eyes were locked in a cold stare; playing games with this man's head might not have been in the Keeper's best interest.

"I am going to make this very simple," Maro growled. "I am going to ask you a question, and you are going to give me an answer. Do you think you can follow those instructions?"

"Of course! Humble Cicero will do as he's told."

The commander released his grip on the jester's neck and then folded his arms. "I'm glad we're finally starting to understand one another."

Maro knew that the jester at any point in time would try and pull some kind of deception during the questioning, and felt it would be better to start with simple basic questions.

"Tell me, who is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood?"

"Why! The Listener, of course!" chimed Cicero. "Everyone knows that it's the Listener who has the honor of hearing our dear lady's voice. She hears the cries of her children, and my brothers and sisters see to it that those cries are answered. Humble Cicero has seen to it that Listener keeps to the Old Ways! The right ways! The Listener has made Cicero so very happy! "

"You are cooperating, but I was hoping more for a name," stated Maro.

"Name?" The jester looked from side to side in confusion. "Oh, poor Cicero only knows him as the Listener. That is what he is called you see! I'm too busy tending to Mother to really have learned his name."

"I find that hard to believe. At least we know it's a man. It seems the reign of Astrid did come to a stop after our last visit to the sanctuary."

"Her death was not mourned by many, I can tell you that much," Cicero hissed. The mere mention of the old leader's name was enough to make the Keeper's blood boil. "Pretender! Offender! Betrayer!"

"Astrid was a fool to trust us. I might have held up my side of the deal, if she hadn't sent that assassin to kill my son."

"When a man's son becomes a soldier, there is always the risk of death," Cicero answered almost sympathetically. "Cicero has learned that no one is safe as long as one enemy is left breathing. If you wished your son long life, perhaps you should have made him a chef."

Maro sighed and looked to the side as he thought about his son, and how he met his end in Whiterun.

"Then again," chirped Cicero suddenly, "the Gourmet was a chef, and that didn't keep him any safer from assassination, did it?" The jester laughed and then released a cry of pain as Maro punched the fool right in his temple. The Keeper's head rang as the pain seemed to linger on endlessly.

"Don't push your luck with me," Maro warned the jester. "Unlike those so called 'brothers' of yours, I will not put up with your sick sense of comedy."

Salvarus could not hold back a smug chuckle as he saw the Keeper in pain. Maro regained composure and waited until Cicero had stopped muttering quietly to himself before resuming the questioning.

"Answer me honestly, Cicero. Where is the sanctuary?"

Cicero released a deep sigh and shook his head before looking up at Maro.

"The Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary is in Falkreath. Maro has been there already," the fool answered solemnly.

"That's the old sanctuary," Maro growled through gritted teeth. " I KNOW where that one is. I am asking you for the one where your leader resides."

"The Listener has been to all of the sanctuaries in Skyrim," Cicero answered softly. "More sanctuaries than Cicero could ever have hoped for. He resides all over Skyrim. Markarth, Riften, Windhelm…"

"Stop avoiding the question!" snarled the commander as he got in Cicero's face. "Joking or not, you are still being difficult! Give me a straight answer! Where is the current sanctuary in The Pale?"

"Cicero is tired suddenly," the Keeper muttered no longer looking into Maro's eyes. "The light is hurting my eyes."

"If you think you're going to get any sympathy from me…"

"Foolish Maro does not understand," Cicero stated, looking at the floor sadly. "He could yell and scream all he wanted, but Cicero would not be able to answer his question."

"What do you mean, 'would not'?"

"The Five Tenets," the jester answered as he raised his head to stare at Maro. "These are rules set by the Dark Brotherhood. The Second Tenet is to never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. You see?" Cicero cried out. "Poor Cicero simply cannot answer Maro's question! The wrath of Sithis is too great!"

"You're about to face the wrath of me!" Maro snarled at the fool. "Do you honestly believe that this cult of yours is as loyal as you think? Astrid told me all about how fed up she was with this notion of rules and Tenets! That was why she came to me! No one really follows them or even believes in them."

"Astrid," the jester growled out. He then looked up at Maro menacingly. "Astrid was no sister! Astrid was a stupid girl with a knife that wanted to play dress up! If you are using her as an example, she is poor one! Fake! Fake! Everything about her was fake! She rejected the Old Ways and nearly led the Dark Brotherhood to its death! Just because Cicero is a fool, does not mean he is wrong! The Listener!"

Cicero stopped his rant as he looked from side to side. It was as though by mentioning the Dark Brotherhood leader caused a wave of calm to wash over the Keeper. "The Listener made everything right. He knew Astrid was a pretender, that's why he refused to kill poor Cicero. He could break that Tenet; he knew he would be safe from the wrath of Sithis. He knew she was false. Yes, he spared me, and I am alive and she is dead. He understood. He believed in Cicero, he believed in the Old Ways. That's why he's the true leader of the Dark Brotherhood. That is why the Night Mother chose him." Cicero once again allowed his head to drop once more. His tirade did nothing to ease his exhaustion.

The commander of the Penitus Oculatus stood in silence. He had taken in every word of Cicero's outburst. He could not disagree that behind the jester mask was a functioning and rational man. He had a goal, however, to destroy the Dark Brotherhood, and he was set out to do so.

"Again about this Night Mother. Do you honestly expect me to believe that a rotting elf corpse is speaking from beyond the grave to this man you call the Listener?"

Cicero's head shot up as he stared as Maro. Gone was the weariness, now all that resided in the jester was pure, white, rage.

"It's just so preposterous! I don't blame Astrid for rejecting the notion. Your Listener is about as false as she was! He doesn't hear that woman's voice; he's just collecting them by word of mouth! There is no Listener." He pointed a finger accusingly at the jester. "And that filthy, old corpse you fawn over?" He shook his head. "That is nothing but a stiff carcass that you display like a centerpiece."

Maro saw Cicero tremble slightly. He could see the anger, but felt that he had at least gotten through to the Keeper.

"Now, I am going to ask you again. Where is the sanctuary in the Pale?"

"Come closer," Cicero muttered quietly. "I need to share something with you."

Commander Maro leaned down so that he was nose to nose with the fool.

"What is that?"

Maro got his answer fairly quickly as Cicero slammed his forehead directly into the Commander's face. There as a sickening thud sound upon impact. Maro grunted in pain as he staggered back, holding a hand to his face.

"The First Tenet!" Cicero screamed out at him. "Never dishonor the Night Mother! To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis!"

Maro removed his hands and saw that it was covered in blood. Clearly, between him and the jester, he got the worst of the headbutt. He stared Cicero furiously, panting in frustration and anger. He then turned to Salvarus who, true to his word, remained where he was stationed. It was obvious that it took a great deal of restraint to keep from attacking the bound Imperial.

"Salvarus," Maro growled out.

"Yes, sir?"

"Remember how I told you to restrain yourself from harming this man?"

"Yes, sir! I remained at my post as ordered!"

"Good lad." Still staring at the agent, Maro pointed in Cicero's direction. "Until I say otherwise, consider that order lifted!"