Danasi's world for the next few weeks revolved around the ghost- Lucien. She couldn't get enough, this resurrection of the last thing in her long memory that made her happy. But it was bitter-sweet; the resurrection was only half complete, his ethereal form a glaring reminder that he was dead, of what had happened centuries ago... of the sight that confronted her in that farmhouse.

Even two hundred years later, the image was painfully clear in her mind.

She would linger whenever the Listener was around, who was often accompanied by Lucien's shade, watching the shimmering blue memory as subtly as she could, closing her eyes when he spoke, trying as she might to transport herself back to his time. How could she forget that voice? She ached to glimpse his face. From a distance and the spectral glow she couldn't discern his features. After she gave up one day, too afraid to move closer, she realised she couldn't even remember what he looked like.

Her most treasured memory, dearest friend, and the only way she could picture him was dead. Truly, the gods were cruel.

Drained of tears long ago, she retreated down to the training room, dark, empty, familiar; she had utilised the training room in her fort often, venting anger and sadness through violence. Here, she returned to the life she knew, thrashing the dummy targets with increasing ferocity until the pain had numbed, resting afterwards in the corner, feeling safer with the two walls against her back.

Still her mind was full of questions. Was he immortalised as he was from their time, or had he existed for centuries as she had? Did ghosts even acknowledge the passage of time? He didn't seem to truly converse with the Listener most of the time, perhaps he was just a shadow of his former self, merely an ethereal realisation of the skills and statistics of the man. But he seemed there, his memories, his dark mirth... or was that just her hoping? Did he remember her? Would he recognise her? She was not sure she was anything more than a shadow of her former self by now, either.

Footsteps approached the chamber. The Listener and his spectral assassin. Danasi rose to her feet wearily, still slightly out of breath from her exertions. "Listener," she greeted courteously.

"Ah, the new one... How is it we are so often in the same room as one another? One might say you were taking quite an interest in me!" He threw back his head and laughed, his straggly hair falling from his forehead as he did so.

Danasi, missing the joke- she had not partaken in humour for a long time- cocked her head slightly and frowned. Normally she would run to her safe place, but the training room seemed to have become that place.

The Listener gave her a queer look on noticing her glances toward the ghost and added, "Or is it my spectre that takes your interest...?"

Danasi blushed on realising her error. She quickly recovered. "Oh my, no... it's just... a legend of the Dark Brotherhood... most intriguing..."

She began to straighten herself out and prepare to leave when the Breton interjected. "Come now, I only jest. You may approach if you wish, I mean to train now. He may speak with you if the link to this realm is strong enough." He beckoned her over to the ghost, that for which she yearned and yet feared, and left them for his training.

With feet as heavy as lead Danasi walked slowly over to the spectre, clutching at the amulet as she went. The link seemed to be strong enough, for he turned his attention to her as she drew close. Her breath caught under his gaze, expecting him to call her name, guilt suddenly welling up inside her. Unable to meet his eye she directed her gaze at- through- the rest of his body, speaking rehearsed words. "It is an honour, Mr Lachance. I have... heard much about your exploits." It felt like an eternity waiting to see if the spectre responded. Standing here at the precipice, holding back all her emotions, trying to hide her true feelings, her true identity from Lucien and everyone in the Sanctuary, just standing in front of him, unsure if he had even heard her never mind recognised her, she wanted simultaneously for him to take her hands and greet her as Silencer and for the ground to open up below her feet.

Deep, rich, speaking to her came the reply, sending her heart racing at three times the previous pace. "Is that so? Then hopefully you have learned enough to beware treachery and avoid a similar fate as mine."

Steeling herself to remain calm and casual she continued, staring anywhere but his face. "...Most definitely... but your reputation is more than just your... end, I promise you." She kept her gaze low, hoping to appear merely respectful.

"Ah, I find this news pleasing. You may relax, child of darkness. You've no need to be nervous. We are all family. I merely continue our work from the Void. One day even you will serve our Dread Father as I do now."

He used to call her 'child of Sithis', didn't he? "It would not be too soon," she replied honestly. He didn't seem to know her, so she raised her eyes to look upon his face. "My name is Nilera." It took all the energy she had to maintain composure as she took in once more the face of the man she'd loved, served, learnt so much from and been unable to say goodbye to. Had she not been concentrating so hard, she may have remembered that Lucien once knew the name she had given.

"Nilera..." She thought his look changed slightly, only for a moment, but could not be sure- an ethereal face was harder to read than a living one, and she had not had much recent practise at either. "The name seems familiar... perhaps I knew somebody by it, once. It can be difficult to pinpoint memories in the Void... everything merges as one at times."

Danasi then realised she had told Lucien about her mother. He would know the name. Her heart was pounding, she worried the Breton would hear it. She had to leave before she gave something away. Much as she wanted to keep talking, she could tell her eyes were saying more than an Initiate's should. "I... I would be honoured, again, if that is the case. I... I thank you for your attention, Mr Lachance. I would love to speak more with you, but I must leave now, I have duties."

"Of course. Sithis guide you, sister." He nodded in polite farewell.

She returned the gesture as coolly as able and once more counted an eternity until she was up the stairs out of the room. She was a turmoil. Her Speaker was here- a ghost, but it was him, and she had spoken with him. His words still rang in her head, just minutes old, so fresh and exciting and real compared to the letters. But what of his last comment? Had he suspected her, remembered her? The amulet certainly worked on him, he merely commented on the familiarity of the name, it could happen with many names. But that look... had it been a look? If he had remembered, he hadn't seemed angry. She hoped that meant he would not be unwelcoming if she revealed herself. No, she wasn't going to reveal herself. She couldn't. She wanted so very badly to be reunited, she had missed him... but she had failed him. Too late to save him... and if he only knew how she had abandoned everything... she couldn't.

But that look.