Bab 365: You're not Listening!
"How have I found myself here...?" Eleril mutters to herself as she desperately tries to ignore the foul stench of death and decay filling her senses. "Oh, that's right... Astrid's orders..."
She opens her eyes again and tries to not squirm or shuffle at the sight of the rotten corpse right in front of her face. Why Astrid thought it was a good idea for her to hide in the Night Mother's she didn't know, even if it was technically working...
She was sure what she was doing could be considered sacrilege, worthy of execution for her defilement of the Night Mother's corpse... But, when your superior orders you to do something, you do it. No ifs or buts about it... Even if she had massive qualms with this...
Eleril quietens down as she hears footsteps, along with the whispered ruminations of Cicero's manic-sounding voice...
"A-are we alone? Yes... Yes... Alone, sweet solitude. No one will hear us. Disturb us... Everything is going according to plan!" the crazed jester says to the coffin, completely unaware that an intruder was listening... In more ways than one would expect.
The jester continues, "The others... Some are willing to hear me, while some... Some are not worthy to be family... Not worthy to even be step-siblings! It's not right! Not right not right not right!... A-and then there's you... Sweet Night Mother...
...
If you just spoke to someone, anyone! Cicero wouldn't have to do this... Do everything alone... What else can this loyal one, THIS SERVILE ONE, do? Cicero cleans, sneaks, protects, hunts, stalks, talks, stalks... Why MUST you do nothing, sweet Mother? Is there no one worthy? Is CICERO, not worthy!?"
The jester takes a breath from his rant, "Sometimes Cicero thinks that you..." his speech hitches, "No! Nonononononono! Cicero must not think that! Never ever ever ever!"
Eleril frowns as she listens to all of this, wondering if Cicero truly was as crazy as he sounds. Clearly, he wasn't a traitor like Astrid had made him out to be, but... Was talking to a corpse any better? At best it was a strange quirk, but at worst? He was a liability. A flight risk.
"Poor Cicero, Dear Cicero. Such a humble servant, but he will never hear my voice. For he is not the Listener." a dark, almost ominous feminine voice states as the Night Mother's corpse before Eleril glows a dim red...
Yeah, Eleril was about to freak out... The corpse just spoke to her! What the fuck!? Did she catch whatever Cicero had? Maybe he'd caught it from the corpse in front of her? "No... I'm just imagining things." she whispers to herself, squeezing her eyes closed to try and attempt to calm her erratic breathing and beating heart.
"Oh, but how can I protect you? If you will not speak, how will Cicero defend you!? How will you exert your will without a Listener!?"
Eleril opens her eyes once more, again seeing the dim glow surrounding the corpse. Strangely though, she got an incredibly smug expression from it, despite its lifeless rotten features.
"Oh, I will speak... Speak to you. For you are the one. My Listener."
"No... I'm hearing things... That's all."
"Yes, you are hearing things. You who shares my iron tomb, you who warms my ancient bones... I give you this task, my Listener... Journey to Volunruud and seek one known as Amaund Montierre... Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he has been waiting for all these years... Darkness rises when silence dies."
Eeril shakes her head, "N-no... Why? Why me? Choose someone else!" she says, her voice strained from her roiling emotions...
"V-voice? Night Mother?" Cicero asks after having apparently heard Eleril's protestation.
*Creeea*
Cicero throws the coffin doors open with a wide grin on his face, excited to finally hear his Mother's voice... "Night Mother! I-... W-what!?" the jester exclaims, shocked, horrified, and enraged at the sacrilege he saw before him... "YOU! SACRILEGE! TREACHEROUS DEFILER!" he screams, pulling the dagger from his waist and stepping forwards to bloody the Night Mother's coffin.
"W-wait! Cicero! She spoke! The Night Mother spoke to me!" Eleril shouts while raising his hands placatingly, not wanting to get stabbed. There wouldn't be much that she could do while backed into the coffin after all.
"N-no! You lie! Spout lies and deceit to hide your treachery! THERE IS NO LISTENER!" he growls, raising his blade in preparation to strike.
Eleril shields her face with a hastily conjured dagger as she leans against the Night Mother's body, "D-darkness rises when silence dies!" she exclaims in a panic. But quickly becomes confused when she feels no attack... She peaks her eyes open and spots Cicero standing there, his dagger on the floor as stray tears drip from his eyes.
"Y-you... Listener... Only the Listener would know those words! Words only known to the Keeper!... D-did the Night Mother truly speak?... Has her voice returned to her?"
...
Eleril gives a short nod as she feels the heavyweight of Cicero's gaze on her...
At this, Cicero's face lights up as he begins performing a strange jolly jig, hopping and dancing around the room like an incredibly drunk clown. "IT'S TRUE! SHE'S BACK! MOTHER IS BACK! SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK SHE'S BACK! HIYAHAHAHA! IT IS FINALLY TIME! ALL HAIL THE NIGHT MOTHER! ALL HAIL THE LISTENER!" he maniacally laughs.
Only for the door to the room to get kicked open as Astrid, Arnbjorn, Festus, and Babette run in, the latter two faces looking worried when they spot Eleril crotched in the Night Mother's coffin.
"By Sithis! Whatever you've been planning is finished, clown! Be still and I'll end this quickly." Astrid growls as she tightly grips the blade in her hand.
"W-wait! It's not what you thought, Astrid!"
...
"What do you mean, sister? Was he not about to cut you down!?"
"ME!? Cut HER down!? CICERO WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING SO TREACHEROUS! SHE IS WHAT CICERO'S BEEN WAITING FOR! WHAT THE FAMILY HAS BEEN WAITING FOR!"
Astrid turns to Eleril with a glower, "What does the clown mean, sister?"
Eleril shrivels slightly under the woman's intense glare, but raises her head high as she composes herself, "I-... I think I'm the Listener..."
...
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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