An illustrated Skyrim story beyond the fall of the Dark Brotherhood~
After a surreal event, Cicero is inexplicably thrown back into a clear state of mind and his memories from his life prior to his madness return. We begin to learn who he really is...
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After the guards found Torygg's body, it didn't take them long to figure out what had happened. They found me at home with his blood on my hands. I was cold, hungry, and weak. They hauled me off to the orphanage where I was sentenced to nine years of chores and more bullying... but at least I had food and a warm bed. No one wanted to adopt me. They all knew what I had done even though I never talked about it. Occasionally, I'd run away back to the old house just to curl up in my mother's chair and have some time to myself. I never stopped thinking about her. The guards would show up within an hour and take me back to the orphanage. I didn't argue or put up a fight. I was always one to respect authority...
But now I was free. The moment I turned sixteen I was out of there. They were glad to see me go, even though I had tried my best to stay in line and do as I was told. This violent reputation would stay with me as long as I lived in this town.
Upon my release from the orphanage, I immediately returned to the house which had since been boarded up to keep the riff-raff out. After regaining access, I found the place to be just the way I had left it... though a lot dustier and many more vermin and insects about. I was in no hurry to clean up and would rather get my thoughts in order. I was legally independent but I felt no different than I did the day before. With no parent, guide, or mentor, I was at a loss as to how to make something of myself.
I knelt down to peer inside the fireplace. The ash from a decade past was settled into a fine grain on the hearth. I would need to collect wood for my first night back. I also realized that it would be a lot harder to steal food now that I was much bigger than I was.
As I stood and turned to face the room, my gaze fell upon Mother's old rocking chair... there was a note lying in the middle of the seat. I instantly felt my stomach drop as the irrational thought that she was still here forced its way into my already frazzled mind. I nervously picked it up and flipped it over. In the middle was a single-inked handprint and the words, "We know" scribed across the bottom. The parchment was new and did not have a speck of dust on it.
I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and my eyes scanned around the empty room. I was sure it was related to Torygg's death. I never admitted to anything and assumed that enough time had passed that people would have moved on... was someone trying to mess with me?
Rumors came and went about an organization called the Dark Brotherhood which had long since made Bruma one of its havens. No one knew where they were or what they were doing, but we were all aware of their existence. A few times word got out about a murder around town. Many would speculate that it was the Brotherhood's doing. No one was ever arrested for the crime and there was very little investigation. Torygg had accused my mother of being part of this shady group but I knew that wasn't possible. She was way too weak to hurt anyone and I was with her all the time. Yet, the ominous note made me feel very paranoid. If this secret organization knew about what I had done to Torygg... why would they be contacting me now?
I got myself a dagger. An ebony one I stole from a produce vendor when his back was turned. I felt that it would be wise to have some protection. After receiving the note, it felt like eyes were always on me. Always watching. I didn't know what they were thinking but they were judging me. They knew. What did they know? What did they believe? What might they do? It was best to be armed with something I could conceal. I was positive I was being watched.
