The old barn keeper's odd behavior, the nervous glances he kept casting over his shoulder as he led the horse away, stirred a troubling doubt in my mind. The peaceful state of mind I had enjoyed for most of the morning suddenly turned into anxiety and concern; a sense of foreboding came over me, wrapping my mind in its murky web. I decided not to enter the city through the main gate as I intended, but to retrace my steps and return the same way I had left— silent, unseen, through the secret entrance to our Sanctuary. Now that I think of it, that was the most natural and safest route for a creature of the shadows like me.
So, as discreetly as possible, I made my way toward the forest near the city walls, walking through the trees rustling and swaying in the dry wind blowing from the west. I ventured deeper into the wood, and as I neared the old siege gate through which I had first entered the town, I changed my direction, turning northward. As night spread its silken waves over the forest, I suddenly broke into a run, occasionally altering my course. After a brief dash among the dimly lit tree trunks, I stopped abruptly, lay down on the ground, and crawled into the shelter of a moss-covered rock. I listened carefully and, as I had suspected, heard hurried footsteps and heavy breathing behind me.
I soon spotted two silhouettes dressed in long, dark robes with hoods pulled over their heads. 'Thalmor agents!' flashed through my mind. This really surprised me, filling me with concern.
Their purpose remained obscure to me, but I had seen enough to fear them; I had witnessed their actions against the Imperial spies and the discontented population of Cheydinhal before, and I knew they were brutal, efficient fighters with basic magical knowledge.
I couldn't fathom why they would be interested in me; as far as I knew, they were allied with Nephatah's government, as was I. But remembering the Duchess's behavior during our last meeting, I told myself that the situation might have changed during my absence.
My worry about my brother's condition intensified, and my heart began to race. I took a deep breath and did my best to calm down; then, as the two agents anxiously scanned the area, I crept toward the siege gate. Once there, I made as much noise as possible, trying to make them believe I had entered the city that way. Then I sneaked quietly along the walls of Cheydinhal until I reached the deep, narrow valley where the secret entrance to the Sanctuary lay hidden among the shrubs and vegetation. I waited there for a while to ensure no one was following me, then slid down the steep walls of the ravine.
Reaching the bottom, I noticed, as much as the dim light of Secunda allowed, that the vegetation that had nearly filled the valley was now lying on the ground, the grasses withered, and many bushes were torn. Once again, I stopped, listened carefully, and surveyed my surroundings, making sure no one was nearby. Then, with a trembling hand, I activated the mechanism to open the secret door. It opened smoothly, without a sound, just as it had the day Rasha showed me how the ingenious mechanism worked.
I walked carefully into the narrow corridor, wondering how I would navigate the overwhelming darkness ahead, but this worry quickly faded, replaced by a much bigger one! In front of me, where there should have been only darkness, flickered a faint, ghostly light; maybe a candle...
I lifted my skirt, drew my dagger from its usual spot, and carefully walked through the tunnel, pressing tightly against one of its walls. It wasn't long before I realized that the other secret door, the one leading to Mother's little mausoleum, was ajar, and as I reached it, I heard the soft, regular breathing of a sleeping person. With utmost care, I opened the door and saw Cicero lying asleep on the cold floor of the small room. I breathed a sigh of relief, put my dagger back, and then bent down to shake the Keeper gently.
Cicero instantly woke up, his eyes widening with great surprise and love when he saw me in the light diffused by the small candle burning in one of the supports.
"Mother... You're here..." he exclaimed, hugging me fiercely.
Then he fell to his knees at my feet, clutching them as he began to cry, shaking with sobs.
"I thought you were dead... Ah, mother, forgive me! I am so unworthy and silly! So helpless..."
He was sobbing and wailing like a forlorn child, and I was deeply shaken by these strange displays, so unusual for a grown man. When I saw that he was dressed from top to bottom in the clothes he had taken from that foolish clown he had killed so long ago, I remembered the vision Mephala had given me that evening when I had spoken the Words before the Keeper; I trembled with repulsion!
I grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand. I sought his gaze, fixing my eyes on his, trying to probe his mind. But within, I found no thoughts, memories, or traces of emotions; there was only darkness, a frightening, all-consuming gloom, just like in Sithis's realm of nothingness. And from that void, a laughter rose—loud, much too loud, insane, and mocking. Oh, the Queen's words came one after the other in a cold cascade:
'Finish the bloody deed, you unworthy little piece of work! And don't you ever try to sneak into my realm again, you hear?'
Her shrill, screeching voice shook my entire body and nerves.
A terrible, unbearable pain shot through me, and I immediately closed my eyes, breaking the frightening contact. I pushed Cicero further away and looked at him questioningly, without uttering a word.
"Forgive me, mother... I'm not worthy!" he mumbled, still crying.
"Rasha... What about him?" I asked, feeling awfully tired.
"Ah, our Listener... He's like a father to us, your children!" Cicero chuckled through his tears.
"Is he here?" I continued my questions, already feeling they were in vain.
"Yes, he is always here! And he's very worried because you don't wish to talk to him... Go, mother, go now and talk to him!" Cicero answered, looking at me with a confused expression.
I immediately closed the secret door through which I had entered and ordered him, already beginning to taste the bitterness in my mouth:
"Come with me, Keeper!"
He began to laugh, a sharp, unpleasant laugh, and said,
"You jest, mother... You know I'm not allowed to leave this place. Not now. Not ever, perhaps..."
I sighed and opened the door leading to the Sanctuary chambers. Inside, the common dormitory was lit, and a few people, some of whom I knew to be old Morag Tong members, were engaged in typical activities for those living in closed communities, isolated from society. A pretty girl, a Dunmer, was braiding a pair of woolen gloves, and a middle-aged man, Trebonius, an Imperial, was slowly and lovingly carving a piece of wood. Others were whispering in a dark corner, and an elderly Breton woman, Anda, was wiping her dagger's blade with an oil-soaked cloth. Apparently, they paid me no attention as I passed among them, but when I turned abruptly before entering the corridor leading to Rasha's room, I caught them all staring at me tensely; all of them, absolutely all of them, had stopped what they were doing and were staring at me. I just turned my back on them and walked into my brother's room.
Rasha was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. As soon as I entered, he fixed his gaze on me and, after a moment of silence, said in an even voice:
"Finally, you're here! Where have you been wandering lately?"
"I've been carrying out a task entrusted to me by your mistress, the Duchess! I'm also happy to see you again, Rasha! And I'm very pleased to see you alive and well!"
"Yes, I'm fine, don't you worry! But our affairs are not going well at all, and unfortunately, you were not here when I really needed you... Why did you neglect your duty, and above all, how could you leave that harlot Courtney in the complete command of the Sanctuary?"
"That 'harlot' is my best friend and she's like a beloved sister to me! She took care of you and watched over you, Rasha, when you were sick and helpless! Besides, she was the only one with a mind and soul in this whole place! Where is she now?" I asked angrily.
"I wouldn't know! Maybe she went where all whores go, a place I'm sure you know more about than me!" Rasha answered, looking at me with an angry glare.
"Ah! Rasha, why do you want to dig up a past that doesn't matter, a past in which I, too, needed you to advise me and help me learn how to live? I hope you're aware that, no matter what I might have done in Bravil after Alisanne's death, you're the only man I've ever loved and still love! More than my life, I might say! But I ask you once more... Where is my dear sister Courtney?"
"I don't know! I should have killed her, but I only banished her... She's been gone since before the attack on the Sanctuary..."
"The attack on the Sanctuary..." I whispered, looking at him in stunned surprise.
"Yes, our Sanctuary was attacked by an enraged mob of locals! Our people fought back, killing many of the attackers, but just as they seemed ready to withdraw, a group of Thalmor agents intervened. Many of our people died, and the rest of us fled underground. Garnag and Pontius helped me get here." Rasha said, staring at me.
"Where are Pontius and Garnag now? I didn't see them among the others..."
"They're both in the city... Almost every night, they secretly try to clear the entrance to the cellar! The building was burned down by the Thalmor agents, and now, above us, only scorched ruins remain."
I remained silent for a while, trying to understand what had really happened. Then I told Rasha about the incident that had occurred on my arrival.
"I was stalked by two Thalmor agents when I tried to enter the city..." I told Rasha, recounting the entire incident, not forgetting to mention the strange behavior of the groom.
Rasha responded very calmly as if everything were self-evident: "I'm not surprised! Our organization had become exactly what it was always meant to be—a secretive force, beyond the reach of the government!"
He casually added that the Duchess had issued an arrest warrant for him. Then, in that same serene, almost detached tone, he continued to lay out his plans for the future of the Dark Brotherhood. I felt utterly drained, my mind reeling under the weight of his absurd schemes involving agents specializing in "listening," "contracting," and "execution"; they tormented my weary soul.
Oh, how I longed for the peace of my cottage in Nocturnal's realm! I could almost hear the quiet there, feel the soft, warm darkness enveloping, lovingly embracing me... I longed to live there with Rasha, that young and cruel Rasha who had saved me on that rainy evening long ago.
This brought back memories; I saw once more our big, happy family, the one my beloved brother had given me! But that life was gone, a distant dream gone with the wind, and I could see my Mistress shaking her head sadly, her refusal echoing in my mind...
My thoughts snapped back to the present, and, unable to bear it any longer, I interrupted my brother:
"We are doomed! Sooner or later, the Thalmor agents will break in here!"
Rasha looked at me calmly and, stating that I must be tired after my long wanderings, said it would be better if I rested first. Then he added that there was a small chamber available, right next to his, which I could use. He got up from his bed, approached me with unsteady steps, stroked my hair gently, and, looking me in the eyes, asked:
"You are on my side, aren't you, Elsie?"
"Yes! I'll always be on your side, Rasha!"
"I'll come with you to show you the room!"
"No, no need... I know it," I said, turning my face away from him and walking towards the door.
"Elsie..."
"Later... Tomorrow, Rasha," I sighed and left the room.
The room had been meticulously cleaned and prepared to host someone. I knew this as soon as I entered, having been here before—back when I sought refuge in the Sanctuary, no longer able to bear the methods my brother imposed.
I also knew this was once Vincente Valtieri's room. My mother Alisanne told me many stories about the legendary Sanctuary of Cheydinhal, and Valtieri, that great undead scholar, featured prominently in them. As a vampire—a strange one who chose to live within the mortals' society and was accepted despite his terrifying nature—I suspected certain precautions were taken with his living space. Indeed, the door to his room had an unusual feature; it could only be locked from the outside.
I smiled as I entered; fresh blankets covered the narrow stone bed, pillows were piled high, and fresh flowers adorned the vase on the round table in the corner. Everything bore signs of love, care, and hope, and once again, I felt sadness gnawing at my soul.
I sat at the small table in one corner and opened the bag given to me by the young baron, Sullius. Besides provisions—far more than a girl like me could eat—and a flask of sweet, burning liquor, there was a rose. A red one and faded now, but once a magnificent specimen... I inhaled its scent, sweet but tainted by decay, and my sadness deepened. My thoughts began to wander, and I reflected on the strangeness of human nature—and by that, I mean the nature of all mortal beings. I ate and drank from the baron's generous gift before crawling into the bed, tightly hugging the largest pillow as I slipped into the treacherous waters of sleep.
The next morning, after waking, I stopped by Rasha's room to say good morning. He smiled, called me to his bed, and kissed me. He then asked me to visit the Sanctuary, talk to the people, study the training methods, and report back with my views.
As I walked through the Sanctuary, I felt like I was living an absurd dream. Everyone was quiet, going about their daily chores as if the Sanctuary wasn't under a terrible threat. Some were in the small training room, practicing dagger or hand-to-hand combat. Others prepared the daily food, while Pontius and Garnag slept after their night's hard labor.
I then went to Mother's room and tried to talk to Cicero. But Cicero, dressed as before, was preoccupied, paying me little attention. He was meticulously tending the mummified body, and the bronze sarcophagus glowed pale in the flickering light of a small candle burning in a niche. All the while, he chanted strange incantations, addressing various questions and words of praise to our Mother. When I touched him and spoke, he shook slightly, looked at me mildly, and said, "No, mother, it can't be now, Cicero is very busy, oh poor Cicero! And not tomorrow, nor the day after, until this farce is over! Forgive the small and poor Cicero, sweet mother!"
From that moment, he paid me no further attention. Later, I spoke with Garnag and Pontius, but neither was willing to share much. Garnag was particularly reluctant to discuss Courtney, whose fate worried me terribly at the time. Pontius revealed little more than Rasha had already told me, but in his eyes, I detected a vague desire to talk more—and a flicker of fear.
And so, in this odd way, the days passed one after the other, with the people of the Sanctuary mechanically completing their tasks, just like those eerie mechanisms hidden in the long-buried ruins of the People of the Deep. I avoided them as much as possible, wandering almost unnoticed through our heaven's galleries and chambers.
There was a peculiar, echoing silence in the narrow corridor of our Sanctuary. Whispers occasionally drifted, emerging from the shadowy corners. I always tried to make sense of them. At times, I thought I understood a few words, but I won't repeat their meaning here. Oh, no! Absolutely not, my friends! For within those murmurs were dark and dangerous invocations—each demanding treachery and murder...
And I was not the only one who heard the sinister whispers! No, for they were not meant for me; their true recipients understood them all too well, twisted words that seeped into their minds, urging them to kill. And so, they did. Morning after morning, we would find yet another member of our false Brotherhood lying dead in their bed...
I talked with Rasha, trying to bring him back to reality, but he kept building castles in the sand, even discussing the reopening of the Leyawiin Sanctuary! One day, after more than half of the Sanctuary's residents died or left and never returned from their missions, I asked him if he would consider running away with me, just the two of us. He shook his head, looked at me seriously, and replied that there was no other place in the world where we could survive, except for the Sanctuary of Cheydinhal.
During his last days, Rasha lived and acted only according to the desires and aspirations he believed to be reality; ultimately, he declared himself the Listener of the Sanctuary of Cheydinhal and was utterly convinced that our Mother would speak to him sometimes... My brother was so certain of the path he had to lead his people on that I realized there was no use trying to change his mind. And so, time passed, keeping us all trapped inside his dream for a short while...
I knew all too well that it was my duty and obligation to set things right. Mephala had commanded it and revealed the only path to achieve it. And yet, I hesitated, watching my beloved brother's blasphemies and wrongdoings unfold. People—good people— had died because of him... But their deaths had always been inevitable. The Spider had condemned them long ago, for their time had come. Because our ancestors had wronged Mephala!
It was Cicero who first made the right move. One day, he denied Rasha entry to the room where the Mother's sarcophagus was kept, compelling my brother to call a meeting of the Black Hand to elect a new Keeper—an opportunity he seized with pleasure.
Cicero laughed and cursed them when they summoned him for the meeting, and I, grim and resolute, took my seat at the table where the others already gathered: my dear brother Rasha, calm and imposing; Garnag, unconcerned, clearly preoccupied with thoughts of his flask of beer; and Pontius, uncertain, glancing nervously at Rasha every so often.
It was clear to me that, sooner or later, this whole game I had been indulging in over the past few weeks would come to an end. So, when Rasha declared the session open, I stood, serenely, and stated that I had long since disbanded the Black Hand structure. As such, this meeting was utterly meaningless, and any decisions made without my approval were invalid. I added that I was the true Black Hand and that Cicero had been appointed Keeper by me, in the name of our Mother, and only death could remove him from his duty.
They remained silent, staring at me. Rasha with eyes sharp as daggers; Garnag with his mouth agape, clearly struggling to understand; and Pontius, eyes flickering with a glimmer of hope.
No one spoke, so I continued.
"From this moment forward, I hereby declare the Cheydinhal Sanctuary unsafe and inoperable for all members of the Dark Brotherhood. My first command is to find a new haven for us all." I then settled back into my seat, my gaze fixed on a dull spot on the wall, which shimmered faintly in the flickering light of the torches.
Rasha reacted very calmly and asked me by what right I was speaking like that. Without looking at him, I answered:
"I am empowered by Mephala herself, and, if you allow me, I will do my best to convert all these still living in the Sanctuary to the new doctrine—and to keep them alive and well-trained; with your help, of course! Because, Rasha, at this point, the new Dark Brotherhood has only two true, sanctified adepts: me and Cicero!"
Rasha's voice grew cold as he replied:
"I have been sure that Cicero's miserable behavior of late is closely linked to your influence and departure, just when we all needed you most here in the Sanctuary! Elsie, you leave me no choice but to expel you from the Black Hand! And, at least for a while, you will be confined to your room!"
He said it sternly, but there was no trace of resentment in my brother's voice. Still, I could see disappointment and sorrow in his eyes—eyes that looked so old and tired...
"If I may be allowed," Pontius straightened his voice, "she's right, at least about the safety of the Sanctuary, and we won't be able to dig up the entrance to the cellar, no matter how hard Garnag and I try."
I almost froze in disbelief because, in the next moment, Garnag, who was so obedient to Rasha and had no other care but to have his bottle full of beer, said,
"Even if we accomplish that, we won't be able to hide it from the eyes of the Thalmor agents."
"I'm sure they've already partially traced us by now," added Pontius.
After a brief silence, Rasha told them to shut up and then ordered me to go to my room and stay there until he came to visit me.
Once again, I proved myself to be a coward and an incompetent fool, unworthy of our Mother's trust. I rose and went to my chamber, then sulkily crawled into bed, so that when, after a while, my brother came in, he would find me lying there, clutching the large pillow tightly, gazing up at him with innocent, wide eyes.
My brother smiled, then laughed out loud, and as he sat down on the only chair in the room, he said:
"Elsie, you are much more Khajiit than I, you know that?"
"Of course, Rasha! You have been a very good tutor, and I thank you for that! You saved my life, changing my fate twice, and gave me a warm, loving family when I was wandering hopelessly through the sewers of Imperial City! And on top of that, I love you. I love you so much that the feeling is sometimes painful for me..."
"Yes, I think I know that," he said thoughtfully. "Still, you women are hard to comprehend for any ordinary man... And you, well, you're more twisted than most..."
Then we both remained silent for a while, just looking at each other, deeply enjoying being together.
"We have decided to replace Cicero with one of our new followers, Mya," Rasha said.
"Don't do that, brother! I beg you!" I replied.
Rasha didn't answer. He just stared, lost, at the table on which the flowers of that day were slowly but surely withering... He then stood up and told me that I was confined to my room and that I was not allowed to talk to any of the Sanctuary people who would come to bring me food or clean my room.
"Rasha!" I yelled, and he stopped but did not turn to me.
"You will die, and I will never forgive you for that!" I cried and burst into tears, holding the pillow tightly to my chest.
But Rasha simply shrugged and walked out of the room, locking the door behind him.