Silence.

Oh- the silence.

But Cicero doesn’t hear the silence- no no no… he hears the voices no one else seems to hear. But not the Nightmother’s voice—no not hers! He’ll never hear hers… that privilege is yours. The Listener.

He sits on a stone bench- uncomfortable. Just swinging his legs back and forth. His eyes wide like a dear in headlights- but he isn’t afraid… no. He is waiting… waiting for your return. You’ll be back to the sanctuary soon… you always come back.

When he hears the black door opening and your feet thumping on the stone stairs, leading deep into the sanctuary the crazed jester starts to smile. His eyes dart to the stairway- and sure enough, you emerge from the darkness.

“OH- LISTENER!!!” He exclaims, hopping off that uncomfortable stone bench that was admittedly giving him pins and needles. “Greetings Dearest listener! Hehehe- Cicero has been awaiting your return!~” The jester says, hopping from foot to foot with joy. “Can Cicero get the listener something to drink? Something to eat?! Cicero is not just of service to our mother- no! He is of service to you dear listener as well…”