"You have to make the good out of the bad because that is all you have got to make it out of."
R.P. Warren
It wasn't long before Rasha returned, his arms full of books and manuscripts. He'd gathered everything he could find in the Sanctuary—and let me tell you, our haven held plenty of fascinating writings! This didn't surprise me; the legendary Sanctuary of Cheydinhal had hosted all sorts of folks over the centuries, including scholars and learned, erudite individuals.
My brother didn't say a word, not even when I tried talking to him again. He wouldn't meet my eyes—just dropped the books and scrolls in a corner of my room and walked out. Again...
Those books became a great comfort to me during my time in that little room. I was exceptionally well cared for throughout the whole time I was locked up; daily, the flowers were replaced with new, nice-scented ones, and I even enjoyed the town's famous pastries! Risky as it must've been, they still brought me those exceptional apple pies and the amazing, sweet baked cones dipped in honey!
Rasha would drop by often, especially in the evenings, but we never talked again about the Dark Brotherhood. I tried, especially in the beginning, to appeal to his common sense and convince him of the rightness of my arguments, but every time I brought this up, Rasha would just leave the room without a word. I remember with sadness how he eventually stopped locking the door behind him...
I didn't realize it, but now, as I sit here writing, I'm overcome with guilt. Perhaps Rasha was trying to ask for my help, inviting me to get involved in the Sanctuary's affairs. But he couldn't say it openly, due to his male pride...
Ah... it breaks my heart to think that might've been the case! But I'll never know the truth. The only thing I do know is that things were going from bad to worse.
Pontius was the one who told me everything, and what I'm about to share comes from him.
When Rasha informed him that he was being replaced by Mya, Cicero did not protest, nor did he object— he just turned and walked out of the room where our Mother's sarcophagus lay.
So the girl stepped into her new role, but still chose to sleep in the common room with the others. Cicero later asked my brother to let him join the team digging up the cellar door, and Rasha saw no reason to refuse.
The very night Cicero went out with the other two, Mya died. She died in her sleep, as the others said. There was no sign of violence, but Mya was young and healthy, so it seemed impossible for her to die like that. Anyway, it remained as just another mysterious death from the many that happened in the last weeks in our so-called heaven... But unlike the others, this one had a dire consequence: since no one was willing to take over the Keeper's duties, Cicero was quietly reinstated in his old position. Then the Sanctuary carried on as before, but little by little, the number of followers kept shrinking...
Not long after that, one night while they were trying to dig up the old cellar door, Garnag and Pontius were ambushed by Thalmor agents.
Afterward, Rasha called off the whole operation, especially since Garnag had been badly hurt in the attack.
During our rather interesting and prolonged conversation, Pontius also mentioned Courtney. He said that when Rasha had banished her, she'd asked him to pass on a message to me—one I was meant to hear as soon as I got back. Courtney wanted me to know she'd be sticking around for a while—and that on the first day of every month, she'd be at the inn where we'd spent our first night in Cheydinhal.
We talked for hours that quiet night, and feeling closer to him than ever, I tried to learn more about what had happened during my long absence, especially regarding Cicero and his relationship with Rasha. It was clear that no trace of friendship remained between them...
But when I mentioned Cicero, Pontius shuddered as if facing a venomous and particularly dangerous snake, and didn't say much. He briefly mentioned that Cicero had been bragging at a Black Hand meeting about what had happened between him and me on that late evening when I was preparing to leave the Sanctuary and head south. But he didn't want to say more, and not long after, he suddenly hugged me before bowing deeply in front of me...
He left without another word, and I never saw him again. I don't know what became of him. Rasha told me he was assigned for a "listening" mission and never returned. I can only hope he ran away like many of the new adepts did, and that somewhere in the world, he is still alive.
And the time came when only four of us remained in the Sanctuary: me, Rasha, Garnag, and Cicero. Unrest had gripped the city; Nephatah's strange policies were starting to bear fruit—the dark, blood-soaked fruits of popular revolt. The situation was chaotic, as the Imperial citizens, the most oppressed of all, had launched a major uprising, barricading the streets and sometimes taking refuge in houses with barred doors, turning them into real fortresses.
The Dunmer citizens didn't care for the Imperials, not after all that had happened before, but were equally frustrated and disillusioned by the poverty and deprivation that had overtaken the city. On top of that, they all despised the Thalmor. So, the revolt grew widespread, and the impoverished citizens united in their fight against both hardship and tyranny.
During the turmoil that had engulfed the city in its dark grip, Cicero came to me one day, looked me in the eye with an accusing stare, and asked what I was going to do next. It was a strange conversation, rather a monologue where Cicero shifted from warm pleas and confused explanations to veiled threats and pious glances... I listened to him quietly for a while, but soon I grew vexed and told him to remember who he was talking to and to tend to his chores. He fell silent, his eyes filled with the look of an unjustly kicked dog, and whispered, "Yes, mother!" before leaving the room with slow, deliberate steps.
Hm... I scolded Cicero because of my own weakness, which led to hesitation and wasted time... In truth, I knew exactly what I had to do! Despite his confused mind, the Keeper was right, and I was certain that Rasha would never allow us to take our Mother's sarcophagus out of the Sanctuary. No matter how much I begged, he would never accept the idea of fleeing Cheydinhal in search of a safer haven for us. On top of that, the first day of the next month was approaching, and I felt anxious and uneasy, uncertain whether Courtney would show up at the agreed meeting place. After all, it had been so long since she was banished from our Sanctuary... But there was nothing I could do but wait for that day.
In the meantime, I tried once more to talk to Rasha and convince him that leaving was necessary. But all my efforts were in vain, and on the appointed day, I carefully disguised myself in my begging rags and left the Sanctuary as soon as the sky turned rosy with dawn.
The forest around me was alive with scents and sounds, the birds singing their joy, the wind gently shaking the branches, as if the trees were whispering stories from long-forgotten times... But I was sad, so sad that I could not enjoy nature's joy at all!
I entered Cheydinhal easily, through the big gates that had just been opened. Caravans of merchants and peasants, coming to sell their goods, crowded the road into the city, so no one paid any attention to a poor little creature looking for a piece of bread...
I had intended to go straight to that inn, where I hoped to find Courtney, but the rising cloud of dust drifting over the ruined building above our Sanctuary led me in that direction instead. What I saw there sealed my fate... A crowd of laborers worked tirelessly, clearing the debris of the fire that had destroyed the building. Judging by their numbers and the effort they were putting in, it became clear that the cellar entrance would soon be unearthed.
My soul was overwhelmed with grief and despair. I had known from the start this would be the solution—the only way to save the sarcophagus and our Mother's body, the only way for the new Dark Brotherhood to be born and endure for centuries. But even now, as harsh reality revealed it, something deep within me still shuddered at the thought that I would have to kill Rasha to achieve that...With my soul shattered and doubts gnawing at my conscience, I continued to the inn.
On my way, I glimpsed a few curious and telling scenes that revealed the restlessness and rebellion gripping the city's people, but I paid them no mind—Cheydinhal was already a thing of the past for me. Ahead of me lay only a new escape—another desperate flight toward unknown horizons... There had been so many such hasty departures in my short life, and I can't help but wonder if this is my true role in the world: an eternal fugitive, forever unable to stay in one place for too long.
The innkeeper did not allow me to stay in the great hall of the tavern, so I sat down on the ground near the entrance, placing beside me the pot in which anyone who wished could put alms. Doubts and fear that my efforts were in vain were tearing at my soul, already so deeply wounded by the feeling that what I was about to commit was unfair and beyond the most abject murder a mortal could commit.
Rasha, who had been my father, my brother, and my lover—Rasha, who had never wronged me—was going to die by my hand! The consciousness that this was the only way for the newborn Dark Brotherhood to survive did not help me at all; on the contrary, it only heightened my sense of fatality and helplessness in the face of superior, cruel, and indifferent forces. But, fortunately, I did not have much time to sink into my troubling thoughts.
I heard a soft whistle from above me and, looking up, saw Courtney's radiant and smiling face. She was standing in the window of her room and beckoning me to come up. I shook my head and averted my eyes, so shortly after, my beloved friend came out of the inn, setting off for a stroll. I followed her for a while through the bustling streets of Cheydinhal, then Courtney entered a mercery. She didn't stay long inside and came out waving a few blue ribbons in her hand. Then we reversed roles. I went ahead, she followed me, and, without incident, we exited through the city gates, continuing to walk along the now deserted road. At one point, I turned right and entered the roadside bushes.
I waited there, among the shrubs and trees. And Courtney came with her smooth step, and we threw ourselves into each other's arms. She smelled wildly of the forest and flowers, and her long, untamed hair enveloped me in its silken wave. We laughed and sobbed together, and of course, she said, "I thought I would never see you again!"
The reunion with my dear friend comforted me deeply, like a glass of young, sparkling wine strengthens a convalescent or wounded man. She wanted to tell me so much, but I gently put my finger on her lips and beckoned her to follow me. We walked together through the forest that hummed around us as a warm southerly wind stirred the trees' leaves.
We went a long way, circling the city walls, until we reached the ravine where the secret entrance to the Sanctuary lay.
I descended into the small valley and showed Courtney how to use the mechanism to open the door to the Sanctuary. I then took her to the room where our Mother's sarcophagus rested, also showing her how to open the second secret door. Inside, Cicero, who had just been chanting, rolled his eyes when he saw my friend and wanted to speak. But I fixed him with a stern look, and he instantly clamped his mouth shut. I briefly commanded him to discreetly search our haven for the crate used by Rasha when he had brought our Mother from Bravil.
Then, accompanied by Courtney, I left the Sanctuary once more, and after emerging into the bright sunny day, we stopped in a small clearing. I sat on the soft, tall grass and pulled Courtney close. I hugged her tightly and, looking her straight in the eyes, said:
"You will go right now to Poppad Lake and look for the fishermen who sheltered us when we first came to these lands. If they are still alive and around, hire one of them to come with a boat up the river as far as he can go to the city walls. If you can't find anyone there, go south towards the Yellow Road and search the surrounding villages for a cart to rent..."
I gave her a bag of money. Courtney looked me in the eyes and suddenly burst out laughing:
"The little princess, Her Highness, commands, and her most humble servant obeys! What will you do, my darling, all this time?"
"Me? I must murder Rasha and then have his body ready for the great passage..."
Her eyes suddenly widened. She grasped both my hands tightly and said:
"You can't be serious!"
"I'm dead serious, and I beg you, Courtney, not to ask me any more questions! Not now! The story is long and difficult for you to understand, and then, afterward, we'll have plenty of time for things like that..."
We both fell silent for a while, then Courtney squeezed my hands tightly and said:
"If Rasha really has to die, I beg you not to do it yourself! You won't be able to live after this, and I would hate to lose you..." Big tears began to flow from her beautiful eyes, and she hugged me.
I looked at her and my heart filled with great love for her, as she stood there in my arms and gazed at me, pleading with tearful eyes.
"I'll see about that, my dear!" I sighed deeply. "Now you leave immediately because we must not linger in these places and see that the boat will be here in two days at dusk!"
I said, pulling myself from her loving arms; I got up and, without looking back, I went to the secret entrance to the Sanctuary, where I entered.
I walked into the alcove where Mother's sarcophagus rested majestically and gazed at it. Ignoring Cicero, I knelt before Her, and with tears dripping from my eyes, I begged:
"Mother, if You are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but Yours, be done."
Cicero, who had been staring at me from his corner, suddenly croaked shrilly:
"Nevermore!"
I rose furiously and shook him with hatred, trying to avoid his gaze, which now seemed dark blue—almost black. But he gently yet firmly removed my hands, chuckled dryly, and whispered:
"Don't you worry, sweet mother! Poor little Cicero will do it for you! Just say the word."
I couldn't avert my gaze and stared helplessly into his eyes, which were now completely black. Their look was kind and sad, even his physiognomy had subtly changed. The sacred and mad clown now had something of the appearance of a sage—an entity that looks beyond the boundaries of our tiny world!
I was enveloped by a strange peace and resignation—a state that may seem strange to those who have not yet experienced it— the calm that comes when a loved one who has suffered for so long is preparing to cross the great threshold. The inevitable happens, and all you can do is hold tightly to the hand of the one preparing for the Great Departure... And I said:
"Do it, First Among the Faithful. In the name of our Lady, I command you to do this."
Cicero's face suddenly brightened, and his grave expression vanished. His eyes regained their usual color—a pure blue—and his voice echoed in the small chamber:
"Sleep now, sweet mother! Cicero will fulfill your command!"
I left then, passing through the vast and almost empty common dormitory. Only Garnag was sitting on his bed, looking far away... I walked along the deserted corridor, my footsteps echoing as I passed the door of Rasha's room. I did not stop and went into my chamber, where, on the round table in the corner, in the little crystal vase, were wilting the flowers picked by him long ago...
I lay in my bed, among the pillows he had given me with so much love and care. I took one of the books he had brought me and tried to read, but I could not understand anything, so I put the book aside and let my thoughts wander freely.
They turned to him, and I saw Rasha, young, strong, agile, cruel, and brave, as I first met him on that rainy autumn evening when he rescued me from the hands of those who tormented me. I saw him again when, covered with the filth that the mob had thrown on me, he appeared like a vengeful demon and snatched me once again from the clutches of death. I also remembered how he punished those who had humiliated and mocked me on the road to my Golgotha. And I saw him again, mature, strong, and merciless, as he had been in the unforgettable times we spent together in Bravil.
I then fell into the treacherous, murky waters of sleep and dreamed of Shaira looking at me softly, as she had never done. She was very young and carrying a small kitten in her arms, cradling it with love. Next to Shaira was a young and handsome Khajiit, proudly twirling his thick mustache and looking at me with a cunning smile. He was undoubtedly my beloved father, Raha... And Shaira said while handing me her baby:
"I entrust him to you, my dear daughter. I beseech you, take good care of my beloved son!"
"Yes, Elsie, take good care of him! Our boy is a bit wild, not like us," Raha said cheerfully.
And then they vanished, and in their place came the Darkness. In the Darkness, spiders' webs floated, silvery and intricately woven. And among them, on a majestic throne, sat the Queen, looking at me with satisfaction.
"You may leave now, little thing," she said.
"Wake up, sweet mother! They are close now!"
I was suddenly woken from my dream and saw Cicero shaking me bluntly.
"And besides, our Mother needs us; her works can't wait much longer," he added.
"Who are they?" I asked, still dazed from the deep slumber.
"The Duchess's hounds, mother!" replied Cicero.
"Ah! Sithis' will, then! Rasha...?"
"Your command has been fulfilled, sweet mother."
I then felt a terrible weariness, akin to that which comes before the beginning of a severe illness. I tried to clear my thoughts in a mind that felt heavy, like lead, and finally I uttered, whispering:
"We must protect our Mother's body. They must not find it when they enter here, no matter what happens to us!"
"But the hounds won't be entering here any time soon, mother! Poor Cicero took care of everything while his sweet mother slept! Ah, how beautifully you slept... and your smile!" giggled Cicero.
"Come and see," he added.
And taking me by the hand, he pulled me into the corridor. Giggling further, Cicero opened the door of Rasha's room, and then I saw my brother's body lying on the narrow bed. Garnag, with an expression seemingly even more silly than usual, was watching him, standing upright and holding a thick candle in his hand.
I nodded without a word and then followed Cicero further. He led me towards a pile of dirt and stones blocking the corridor leading to the cellar door. I stared in disbelief, then turned inquiringly to Cicero and looked at him.
"Ah, little and helpless Cicero did this," he chuckled again and pointed to a freshly opened gap in the corridor wall. The end of a grappling hook was visible inside, and I realized it was an ancient protective mechanism that could collapse the corridor ceiling.
I understood and felt sadness and regret again; the legendary Sanctuary of Cheydinhal was about to fade into oblivion like our ancient Brotherhood did.
I returned with Cicero behind me to the room where Rasha's body was lying. I avoided looking at him for the time being and began to give commands. I sent Garnag to fetch water—lots of water, all the water from the Sanctuary, and I asked Cicero to search the plinth of Mother's sarcophagus and look for a way by which this could be brought into the secret corridor that led to the hidden ravine near the Cheydinhal's walls.
When Garnag finished his task, I sent him off to assist Cicero in his work, and I returned to Rasha's body. I stripped him of his blood-stained clothes, washed his body, and trimmed his beard and sideburns. Then I clothed him in his shining courtier's garments and shod him in fine leather boots. And the golden spurs glittered in the pale light of the room and tinkled sadly...
It was terribly hard to accomplish all these sad chores because my brother's body was completely stiff, having the hardness and coldness of stone. This seemed odd to me, but I was so overwhelmed by the significance of the work I was doing that I didn't give it much thought. Cicero came a couple of times, eager to tell me something, but I shooed him away without wanting to hear what he had to say.
And later, drained of strength, with a wounded and grieving soul and a mind overwhelmed with shame and a huge sense of guilt, I finished everything I felt I had to do, for the moment.
I pulled up a chair beside the bed where my brother's body lay. And then I cried, a cry that eased my soul a bit, just as a short summer rain cools only a little the cracked earth, parched by the sun's blinding heat. I stopped only when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"How dare you..." I shouted, suddenly turning around.
But in front of me stood Courtney, looking at me with love and pity. And behind her, with one eye black and blood running from his nose, came Cicero limping.
"That harlot thrashed little Cicero, mother!" he sobbed.
"Did you do that, my dear?" I asked Courtney and she replied, "Yes."
An overwhelming laughter burst from my chest, where my heart was struggling in pain. Cicero instantly forgot that his leg hurt and started hopping on one leg across the room.
"Mother is merry, mother is content, ah, Cicero is so happy!"
And Courtney took my head in her arms and, burying her face in my hair, began to cry. And that made me cry again. But this time it was the crying that could heal young souls, still unweathered by life. And when we both calmed down and looked into each other's eyes, we knew we had important and sacred work to do.
I got up and I went to the room where Mother's sarcophagus was. I say it was because the two of them, Cicero and Garnag, had already transported it near the secret exit from the Sanctuary. Garnag was sitting on the ground and drinking from his ever-present pitcher of beer while Cicero, crouched in a corner, was mumbling something:
"One more thorn left...Cicero must get this one out, too!"
I ignored the scene and asked Courtney why she was back so early and if she had gotten the boat. And she looked at me in astonishment and replied that she had come just when I had ordered her, and the boat was waiting on Reed River, a few stone throws from the walls of Cheydinhal.
I gathered all four around me and told them that we should bury Rasha. I would have liked his grave to be somewhere under the ancient floor of the Sanctuary, but I feared that those who would enter here after we left would vandalize his resting place. So I decided to take him outside and bury him somewhere in the forest that bordered the secret valley. I wrapped his body in a silk drapery with the Black Hand sign imprinted on it—a drapery that had adorned his room until then.
Then we carried him as far as we could into the woods, and there, in a small clearing, close to the huge trunk of an oak tree, under the spectral light of Secunda, Cicero, Garnag, and Courtney dug my brother's grave. I stood and watched them, and when they came to me, I told them that the hole was not deep enough. And they nodded gravely and continued digging until I told them it was enough.
Then Courtney and I went down into the grave and laid my brother's body carefully at the bottom.
We wrapped him tightly in the silk wrapping, and then I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. Courtney looked at me questioningly, and I nodded briefly. And she kissed Rasha on the forehead, too. We both climbed out of the grave with the help of Garnag, and then all three of them began to shovel the loose dirt over my brother's body. And when the grave was half filled, Cicero stopped, put the shovel down, and said:
"Ah, little Cicero is so tired..."
Then, with a sigh, he sat down.
The other two continued their work, and I took Cicero's shovel from the bottom and tried to help them. But Courtney turned to me and, looking affectionately, told me to stay out of the way and not to tangle them. And just then, Cicero pounced like a snake from below and killed Garnag.
We both watched as Cicero pushed Garnag's body into the grave and then, serene, as if nothing had happened, continued to fill in the hole.
Courtney clung to me, and I felt her trembling. I held her close, and she lowered herself to the ground and hugged my legs. My hand wandered softly through her hair, and we waited while Cicero finished burying the bodies. He put down the shovel, came over to us, and looked at me with his pure blue eyes, soft and questioning like a child's.
"Cicero finished his work, mother! He finished all tasks, exactly as you wished! Can we go now? Little Cicero is hungry! And cold!" he scolded in the cool of the coming morning.
"No, not yet, Keeper! Come to us and kneel!"
And Cicero did that, and with both of them at my feet, I chanted a hymn to Sithis and entrusted Rasha to our Mother, begging Her to be merciful to him as to all the other brothers and sisters who had died for their mistakes, greed, pride, and lack of faith. I then swore that the new Dark Brotherhood would follow only the old ways and begged our Lady to renew our Vows and Creed when She was willing. And then I said in a loud voice:
"The old Dark Brotherhood is no more! Therefore, I hereby outlaw any so-called current Listener!"
Then I watched them both. Cicero looked at me in awe, and Courtney gazed at me with tearful, amazed, and loving eyes.
Right then, to the east, Masser, still hidden by the mountains, began to cast its reddish glow over the land. Somewhere, not near but neither too far away, an owl began to hoot...
"Never mind, I don't believe in omens, and I am strong enough to defeat or avoid any threat," I whispered as I gazed lovingly at them.