Epilogue
Winter came and went as did spring and summer. And finally fall turned the leaves of the trees golden and red. In his little chamber at the Arcane University, Sorilkad lay tugged in his bed. Though his sleep was far from peaceful as he tossed and turned with a nightmare.
Lucien revealed himself to another Imperial. The other man - a young handsome Imperial with blue eyes and golden hair, had recently come to fame across all Cyrodiil. He was dubbed Hero of Kvatch and Divine Crusader. Well liked and respected by all.
Sweat began to form on Sorilkad's forehead as he turned in bed, tossing his bedsheet to the ground.
Both men seemed to argue in his dream and then the Hero drew his dagger and rammed it into Lucien's heart.
The scene shifted and Sorilkad found him standing in a clearing beneath the twin moons.
A young, beautiful Dunmer woman came across the clearing in a thin gown. Nightshade decorated her deep black hair, that waved down her back. She smiled up at the mage, as she finally reached him. She pulled one frail flower out of her hair and put it into Sorilkad's, before cupping his cheek, gently running her thumb over his tattooed cheek.
"Thank you, Sorilkad."
She said. Her voice rich and low.
"For taking care of my child. I need to ask you for one last favour though."
Sorilkad cocked his head to the side.
"What do you want me to do, mother?"
He asked, his tone sincere. She smiled at him, turning away, slowly fading into the night.
"Go to Fort Nikel!"
Her body turned into nightshade leaves flying away on a warm breeze.
"Hurry!"
Sorilkad awoke in his bed alone, still hearing the woman's voice in his mind. His heart pounded so rapidly against his chest it hurt. He swung his legs over the bed and went to his nightstand, splashing his face with water. As he looked up, his eyes met his reflection in the polished silver mirror. For a moment he just stared at himself with wide eyes. One strand of his hair had turned as white as snow. He sat down in a nearby chair and raised that strand of white to his eye level with a shaking hand.
"Lucien..."
He whispered, his heart heavy. A year ago, he had found his friend in that cottage. One year ago, he had done so much more than to heal his friend. He had pulled him back from the dead, giving part of his own life force to the Imperial. And now his friend was gone, the bond that he had to the Imperial cut. And as the Imperial had died, his life force was spent and his hair had turned white.
Sorilkad flinched and jumped up, remembering his dream. In great haste, he pulled his tunic over his head and hurried out of his little chamber.
A little while later Mannimarco's hooves thundered over the old bridge leading from the Imperial City to Weye. A little further up the road, the Dunmer rode, as the ragged walls of the ruined Fort Nikel came to view. Dark and foreboding the high walls stood against the pale light of early morning. There he jumped from his grey gelding's back, leading the horse on its reins into the fort's yard. He did not have to search long. His friend lay next to the dying embers of a fire, staring up at the sky with greying eyes.
For a long time, he stood over the cold body of his friend, mourning his loss. The sun already stood high as he finally carried his friend's corpse to his horse. He would not leave him here to rot in the wild. He would take care of him one last time.
With a long drawn out sigh, Cardad stormed out of the Falkreath Sanctuary. He needed the cold air of Skyrim to cool his head off. He hated Astrid. If it wasn't against the laws of the Dark Brotherhood, he would have killed her already, turning her corpse into a mindless thrall. As Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, he should at least get a little respect from her. But all that woman did was treat him like her personal errand boy. He sat down on a giant, snow-covered boulder, not caring for the cold seeping into his body and looked at the old weathered scroll in his hand with disdain.
"With Vici's murder, you've started us down a path the Dark Brotherhood hasn't travelled in centuries."
He said, giving his best mock impersonation of Astrid.
"And what do I get for all my work? A bloody scroll!"
He ran his hand through his black hair, that was shaved off to both sides of his skull and unwrapped the scroll. The scowl on his face darkened even more.
"A ghost? Is she fucking kidding me? She's giving me a spell to summon a bloody ghost?"
He put the scroll aside clenching his hands into tight fists.
"I'm experienced enough in the field of Necromancy to raise my own army of skeletons and she's giving me a bloody ghost."
He concentrated shortly on the spell and released his energy in front of him. The air instantly grew denser and the silvery outlines of a person formed in front of his eyes. For a long moment, the Listener simply stared at the ghost, waiting for it to say something. To impress him somehow. Instead, the ghost seemed to consider him curiously.
The apparition had expected to be summoned by Astrid again. A woman he festered a deep disdain against, yet had to follow her. This now came as a surprise and he felt, that the bond that tied him to Astrid had been broken. He stared into the deep red eyes of a middle-aged Dunmer. Black hair, cut into a Mohawk ponytail, a face with high cheekbones and sharp angles. Red circles were tattooed over one half of the face. The ghost smiled. That mer reminded him of another Dunmer, one he called a friend so long ago. The Dunmer in front of him huffed grumpily.
"Great... a ghost. And a boring one."
The smile on the apparition faded and he raised an eyebrow in slight annoyance.
"Not only a Ghost."
The Spectral Assassin said. The Dunmer stood up, circling the ghost.
"Nope... just a ghost. A soul bound to a weathered old scroll..."
A sour look appeared on the face of the apparition.
"What's about Dunmer and their attitude. If you weren't the Listener you'd lie dead at my feet already."
Cardad sighed.
"Yeah...whatever. Listen... I don't really need a ghost to help me. Go back to the Void for all I care."
He turned to leave but was stopped by an ice cold hand landing on his shoulder.
"We are bonded now, you and I. Joined through the powers of the Void."
The Dunmer stared at him with a grim expression.
"That information has just improved my day...not. Please don't tell me you follow me around now."
A pause and again, the ghost was reminded of a mer he had known so long ago. The Listener looked at the spectre again.
"You do follow me around now... Great."
His glance briefly went up to the sky, silently cursing Astrid.
"Well then... at least tell me your name. It's strange enough running around with a ghostly companion, I don't want to call you Spectral Assassin all the time."
The Ghost let his gaze wander for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had asked for his name. In the beginning, every one knew...but as time progressed those he knew died and people started to forget. His name... when was the last time he had spoken it?
"My name is...Lucien Lachance."
The Dunmer stared at him for a long moment, his face emotionless. Then his gaze fell to the scroll again. Very carefully he picked it up and took a closer look at it. His eyes went wide. The Spectral Assassin cocked his head to the side. Did his name ring a bell in that Dunmer?
"You are Lucien?"
Cardad finally asked his voice no more than a harsh whisper over the wind. The ghost nodded, his interest peaked.
"Your name is in my grandfather's journal a lot. He spoke very fondly of you...but he ...lost you."
The ghost of Lucien Lachance narrowed his eyes a little on the mer.
"Your grandfather?"
The Dunmer nodded.
"He was the one who bound you to the scroll. But one day it vanished from his possessions. He believed that a thief had taken it."
Lucien nodded and for a moment he could see his friend's face very clearly in that mer's features. It had been so long since he had seen any of his friends. And it filled him with great sorrow to know, that everyone he knew so long ago had died already. Turned to dust, while he lived through the centuries, alone and treated like an object. He sighed deeply. He had always hoped, that one day he would be bound to someone who really cared for his advice and not only uses him as a distraction. The ghost looked up, into the Dunmer's eyes, studying them carefully, trying to see something in there that reminded him of his life.
"What is your name?"
Lucien finally asked.
"Cardad Malur."
The man answered, a small smile tugging on his lips.
"Come, Lucien, walk with me."
He invited the assassin with a gesture while starting down the path. Lucien gladly followed.
"Maybe you can tell me about my Grandfather. When he died, I was only a little kid myself and the memories of him are blurry."
A smile lit Lucien's features up. After all these years, he felt like he finally had a purpose again. Protect and advise the Listener, like he had done in life. A Listener that connected him to his past. With Cardad at his side, he felt whole. He lived...again.