The transience of all things worldly and other had been a constant given during my life, and long reign after that; it shouldn't have been a surprise when my debt was due. I hadn't quite taken the situation seriously, and now… There were unforeseen consequences. 4000 years of misery, birthed in misery, at last ending in misery. How often I had considered myself ready to fade from this wretched plane of existence. Centuries of slow burning bitterness coursing through my metaphorical body, like the sting of bile rising up one's throat, burning the tender walls in its wake
What I hadn't been ready for however, was the unexpected turn of events that occurred following my attempted assassination. Something even I hadn't been able to foresee.
But here I was, my skin sticking in patches to the dirty cobblestone streets and the rain relentlessly beating down on my newly acquired physical form. My figurative bile entered reality by splattering onto the slick road in several gut-wrenching waves, mixing in with the redness pooling from my stomach.
The sound of thunder ricocheted off the weathered bricks that towered over my frail being. Ominous figures, they silently witnessed my pathetic suffering. Mud scratched at my skin in places where it had given way to the hard cobbles. The hard-edged stones ripped into me like teeth into a ripened fruit, the tissue lay scattered across the street — only to be replaced by the grating sludge that rose from between the uneven rocks. As the waves of nausea subsided, I decided it was just as well. I found myself listlessly staring into a quickly forming pool of water and what was most likely excrement thrown out into the rank poverty-stricken streets. Two pale hazel eyes stared back at me.
Those eyes had gazed upon a world not so different from this one, a world equally as unjust and bent. They had cried for a mother that had no longer been there and a father who had been sickeningly cold blooded and cruel. Those things were but distant echoes of another lifetime, of course.
With great effort and a few cracking joints, I hoisted myself up against the nearest wall, not minding the discomfort of the jagged bricks digging into my skull as I rested my head, gaze turned skyward. It was then that the outline of a dark figure, barely recognisable as such, poked out from behind a blackened chimney.
Lovely.
I closed my eyes as a wet thud resounded from just a few meters away. They stayed there, silently watching me as if uncertain I was even real. Seconds rolled by like centuries and I was inclined to speak first.
"I wonder…" The words rolled off my tongue in a sarcastic drawl. "What will an Empress do, faced with the possibility to be the saviour of the people she so eagerly sets out to please?" I needn't open my eyes to know she'd been shocked at the sound of my voice. "The supposed destroyer of all dark magic in this world… Easy pickings at a chance of false victory painted in the blood of a man most despised."
I could sense her eyes searching me, checking if what she saw was yet another one of my illusions or something else entirely. As time passed, and nothing but silence and the wet slaps of rain against my face filled the air, I slowly turned my gaze to confront the Empress.
I could barely make out the slight widening of her eyes coupled with a sharp intake of breath. The Empress stood there, surveying me as she would something strange and elusive from the far ends of Pandyssia. Had I been in the Void I would have simply disappeared to escape her gaze; sadly, I wasn't. Thus I found myself pushed down into the wet street by the gravity of this world. The clothes that stuck to my skin felt heavy and wet from the rain and blood that seeped into them.
The Empress appeared to have realised she'd been staring, as she finally cleared her throat before continuing to speak.
"My magi- your magic," she started as she took off one of her gloves, baring to me a perfectly clear patch of skin that had once been decorated by my dark gift. "It's gone." Her eyes searched mine for an answer, implored for an explanation; one she hoped I was capable of delivering. But my throat had run dry, my breath in short supply, and the image of her danced before my eyes. She hesitated for a moment, not sure what to make of my silence, of my drifting gaze and rolling neck.
I don't know what happened next. But I could take a guess as the warmth of two nurturing hands, the likes of which I had long been denied since the first gasp of putrid air filled my lungs and my supposed last had escaped them, replaced the cold.
And so, as lights danced, died, and sparked into life again behind my lids, I felt the stinging in my stomach flare to a crescendo as I was hoisted up and carried off to the Void knows where. Deft feet used to the slippery streets pounced as they sprung from roof to roof. I felt the life slowly leaking from this vessel, this body of mine. A body I hadn't inhabited for over 4000 years. Sensations entirely foreign to me — pain, sleep — overtook me until finally there was nothing again but the peaceful darkness I'd grown so used to.
I awoke to the warmth of a fire and the harsh texture of what was most likely a wooden floor imprinting into my tender skin. I lay in a stuffy old room, the wallpaper peeling off the weathered walls in long curling strips. Through the gaps of the boarded-up windows lay an inky blackness, suggesting it was still night.
Dressed in nothing but my pants, and covered in a ratty blanket, sparks filled my blurry vision as I tried to crane my neck to see where the Empress had gone. With a sharp intake of breath, I readied myself to sit up, quite annoyed by the fragility of this thing that was my body.
More spots filled my vision as I pulled myself from my previous position into the next, followed by a startled flurry of feet and hands that came to support my back.
I bit back the frustration as I glared at the Empress, who'd abandoned whatever it was she had been doing to help me steady myself, her hands splayed out across my back and chest, lending me the much-needed support for staying upright rather than just toppling over again.
Their warmth penetrated through the sorry excuse of a blanket, and suddenly I felt suffocated. 4000 years of floating around in the Void, not much more than a whisper of my human self, meant I was currently dealing with a sensory overload.
"Please. Don't ." The words came out through gritted teeth.
She unceremoniously scrambled back at the words — looking at me with big dark eyes, darting between my own in search for some answers. I wasn't intent on meeting her gaze however. The first time her eyes had met mine, I'd noticed the minor shift in her focus: the way she stared straight into me — no longer walled off by the Void's black glare — and thought her own incomprehensible thoughts.
"What happened?" she asked at last, her voice quivering ever so slightly with a hint of terror at what events might have come to pass in a place so far from her own hearth and home.
My throat felt like sandpaper as I set my focus on the flying embers of the nearby fire instead of her questioning gaze.
"An old man once asked himself that very question as his estranged children plunged the cold end of a knife between his ribs. It didn't prevent him dying, nor did it grant him any wisdom."
"Are you serious?"
"Had he been aware of the consequences that followed his actions, perhaps reflection upon his mistakes might have occurred before the knife drank his blood."
"Alright, listen," the Empress said, pinching her nose. "We don't have time for this. My magic is gone, and I'm assuming you're not feeling quite as perky yourself."
"What makes you say that?"
With an exasperated sigh, she motioned to my abdomen. "I don't know, perhaps it was the gaping wound in your stomach I had the pleasure of closing — or maybe," she deadpanned, thickly exaggerating the emphasis on the last word, "it has to do with the fact that you're physically here, looking human, and on the verge of very humanly dying."
It was then I noticed she had indeed closed and bandaged the gaping wound that had decorated my skin, my clothes folded in a neat bundle beside me.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why'd you fix it?" I implored sourly as my gaze trailed a particularly intriguing ember that floated off the fire. The air had taken on a smoky quality, the licking flames consuming what one might assume to be an old chair.
Sharp nails dug into my cheeks as thin fingers forcibly gripped my face.
"Look at me," the Empress breathed. "This is serious."
My eyes reluctantly met hers as a primal feeling echoed from within me, like a distant call from centuries ago. Images of another hand gripping and digging into my skin, nails blackened with grime that had collected underneath them in the wake of neglect, flitted before my eyes and disappeared as fast as they had come. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel a layer of moisture collecting on my bared skin.
I set my jaw as I stared her down, the unfamiliar feeling of anger bubbling in my chest, burning and eating at me like the fire ate the worn chair, until it was nothing but ashes.
"It doesn't matter. What has been done is done," I replied stonily.
"Okay, but how do we undo it?"
"There is no we ." I scrunched up my nose. "I'm the last person to feel inclined to fix this crooked Empire of yours."
She narrowed her eyes at that.
"Please. Stop. Touching. Me." The words were clipped, my eyes pointedly looking at the hand still locked on my face with a firm grip.
"Fine." She retracted the offending limb smoothly. "But you need to stop with the 'woe is me' attitude, and please at least try to explain to me how I can fix whatever has been done to mess things up like this." She paused for a moment, licking her lips before continuing. "The whale oil isn't functioning normally. There have been... problems."
I sighed as I lay back down again — bothered by the skin that was tightly pulled over my protruding bones as they bore all of my weight with nothing to cushion them from the hard floor.
"I don't see how this relates to me exactly," I spoke uncaringly, allowing the words to fester in my mouth before slowly pushing them out.
"You're part of the Void — were part of the Void. Weren't you? You were the source of magic in this world. Whales are also a part of that magic, are they not? Which means you being here might have upset some balance." Sentences tumbled out like rats from a carcass. I wasn't used to her talking this much. I wasn't used to anyone talking this much. I usually did the talking.
I fixed my gaze back to her before thinking about what she said. She was wrong, mostly — but it didn't matter; my stay in the Void was never meant to last. My time had come, and I sure wasn't going back there just to save the Empire. The Void wouldn't last forever either way, one day it would devour all the lights in the sky — that much was known. Perhaps that day had come already. I had watched and observed as the centuries passed like seconds. As those upon whom I had bestowed my gift more often than not used it as a means of power, of dominance over the lesser and more vulnerable. It was all the same.
Perhaps, apart from this girl and her father before her. They were the rare exceptions, the ones breaking the rules of human design. Justice served in mercy. Even Delilah had been on the receiving end of more grace than she deserved. They had been unexpectedly intriguing.
I recalled a young girl, surprised at finding herself stranded in the depths of the Void. Recalled the pictures she'd drawn afterwards, her imagination knowing no bounds.
Something tugged at my gut, convincing me that helping was the right thing to do. But since when had I cared about doing the right thing? Had I not danced in decay, accompanied by the shrieking laughter of Vera Moray as she'd cut up her husband piece by piece?
My eyes flitted to the Empress's face, her features heavy with worry for what was to happen. I recognised that look, had seen it on those features many years ago.
Perhaps I owed her, if only just a little.
I wet my lips before I spoke, careful with my words.
"You helped me with Delilah not too long ago," I started, observing the way her lips parted as she hung on my every word.
"I can do you this one small favour, but know I do not carry the answers you're looking for."
Her features lit up at that, a small relieved smile tugging at the corners of her lips. But as fast as the expression had come, it made way for a more serious one — her lips set in a grim line.
"Do you think you can move?"
I experimented with several movements, bending this way and that and rotating my arms and torso around. Although it hurt me to do so, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. So I nodded at her, and the relieved smile returned. She grabbed the stack of clothes and dumped them into my lap.
"Get dressed. We need to get started on a plan. We really can't be loitering around as the world dies." She paused. "Also, we need to get you some proper food."
She eyed me up and down as I re-dressed. I noticed that my shirt and jacket had also been stitched and... washed? The scent was unmistakably floral, but not familiar. And not unpleasant.
As I turned to sit and tie my boots, a thought occurred to me.
"How long have we been here?" I asked, sending a dejected look at a dent in my right boot that hadn't been there before.
"I'd say about a week. I've been coming and going. You were out cold, probably from blood loss. Had to force-feed you broth. You do not want to know how messy it gets feeding broth to a vegetable." She trailed off, eyes glazing over as she appeared to be recalling the days past.
I sat, at a loss for words. A week? A week since my attempted assassination? Since everything had blown up in — probably — everyone's faces. What could have happened to Lurk? What had become of the Void? I returned to look at the Empress, who had begun rambling on about spoons and cloths before noticing I had stopped listening.
With a small intake of breath, she continued.
"We can't have anyone else knowing you're here — alive."
I agreed, but also feared it might be too late for that already. There were groups out there that were bound to know I'd disappeared.
"First things first, we need to get back to the palace. I can keep you in my safe room now that you're conscious and able to sneak in with me. We need to get you some proper food, attire, and the right documents." As she spoke she checked the streets below through the barricaded window, assessing if there were possible threats to our persons nearby.
Apparently satisfied, she turned and motioned for me to come with her. Much to my dismay, she expected me to sneak out alongside her. Years of floating around in the Void did nothing for one's climbing skills, let alone reflexes. I was sorely reminded of that fact during our scale up the roof. The Empress pulled herself up with ease — but I struggled. Weighed down by the painful stinging of my recently closed wound and weakened by the fact that I'd been figuratively dead for over 4000 years, hers was a tough act to follow. She sent me a few worried glances, but I kept my features as stoic as ever.
The night sky was filled with a vast number of stars. I recalled wishing upon them when I was very young. I had never wished for wealth or prosperity.
Now as we moved through the darkness, the air was cold and biting — cutting into my face with each leap.
After what felt like an eternity of humiliating missed jumps and failing hands, forcing the Empress to save me from certain death time after time, we arrived near Dunwall Tower. I had to admit, nothing looked quite the same from down here. The smell that rose from the wet stones, and the sheer vastness that was the impressive height of the steep tower; I hadn't experienced anything quite like it. In fact, it made the endless neutrality of the Void all the more empty. As my lungs greedily begged for more air, my heart beating at a pace that was dizzying, I felt the flicker of an emotion that I hadn't felt for centuries now: adrenaline.
"You ready?" I vaguely heard the Empress's question over the sound of my own ecstatic pulse.
Turning to her, I became aware of the tugging at the corners of my mouth. I quickly collected myself and nodded to her. With our destination in sight we made a focused effort to avoid making any unnecessary noises; guards heavily patrolled the vicinity, and one wrong movement could alert them. I watched, as I had many times before, as the Empress crawled over the brick structures with a cat-like grace, making use of the architecture to help her progress. Not being able to teleport myself was a real handicap, my movements clumsy and uncoordinated.
Soon we reached the ledge of her royal quarters, the high-arching window left open ever so slightly. The Empress pushed them out of our way and gestured for me to enter, her eyes tracking my movements as I stepped inside. This wasn't the first time I had seen this room. I had gazed upon it before — however this was the first time I was physically there, able to take in the smells and textures of the surrounding furniture. I allowed my hands to trace the rough edges of wooden furniture and the softness of the delicate silks. Sensations that had been foreign to me, even during my original life.
The Empress stood and watched as my eyes traced the delicate pattern that decorated the draperies, woven into them with care and much patience. Old worn hands had most likely spent a lifetime mastering the art of needle and thread, reaching the peak of their mastery shortly before old age became too much and left them stiff and trembling, worthless to today's economy.
"I'll call for the kitchen to cook us some food." The Empress spoke as she moved past me, heading for the intercom that allowed for direct communication with the cooks that worked in the underbelly of the tower.
I nodded absentmindedly at her words. Here in the cleanliness of her room, each scent stood out. The air was pleasant and soft and as she passed I picked up the same sweet scent that I had smelled on my own garb earlier that evening.
Carefully I allowed myself to sit down on the nearby bed, my joints and muscles burning from exertion. I had a lot to think about: how this was even possible, for starters. My mortal body had died the moment my blood had spilled from my throat so very long ago. I remembered the sensation of my own heart pumping the fluid into the air in gruesome tides with each erratic beat.
It should not be possible for me to be alive now; I was the embodiment of the Void made up of shadows and magic, held together by stone. I tried my best to recollect what exactly had happened in those final moments, when Lurk had crossed her way through the Void. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised, sorely, that I only came up blank. All I knew was that something had gone wrong, most likely for both of us.
I felt the Empress's eyes on me before she spoke. I wasn't entirely used to the sensation of being watched.
"You know, I never expected for us to end up in this kind of scenario," she started, carefully sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under her weight, our thighs just inches apart.
Too close.
I boldly met her gaze this time, challenging her with my now eerily human eyes in an attempt to throw her off, to reinstate some of the distance that was lost the moment I had traded the solitude of the Void for this world. It had the desired effect; she looked quite unsettled.
"I'm sorry, it's… strange." Her eyes darted between my own, uncertain which to focus on. "I'm not used to seeing you looking so…" I raised my brows, but she appeared to be at a momentary loss for words. "Normal."
But I wasn't normal, was I? Even now, with the essence of the Void ripped away from me, hazel eyes as pale as mine were a rarity among the folk of Gristol. There were plenty of people sporting the common blues and browns, but for a shade so close to white as mine...
You'd have to travel the isles to the most desolate reaches of places like Tyvia to encounter a people with these extraordinary traits. The gene was highly recessive, meaning it never survived long. With the start of industrial whaling and trading, southern sailors travelled to the far ends of the isles and societies began to mix, effectively eliminating a trait of an ancient people.
As I watched and noted the flecks of gold that swam in the Empress's own curious eyes, I realised I hadn't even had the time to figure out my standing in this world now that I was no longer a god. Questions only led to more questions, and sometimes the answers terrified me. I had been okay with just dying, skipping this mortal part and heading straight for the end. I hadn't desired to figure out my place. But now it seemed I wasn't entirely sure how I felt anymore.
Slender fingers brushed a lock of hair behind a pale ear as the Empress broke away from my gaze, thoughts swimming in her eyes like words from another language. I had become a master in the art of observing; I had witnessed the very core of humanity as it violently fought for its place in this gory world. But I had never had the chance to fully understand the thoughts of a single human, to recognise each passing emotion as it sparked to life and died in an instant. And now I found that perhaps I had been robbed of something exquisitely interesting, as this language I didn't understand filled me with a newborn curiosity for humanity itself.
It was then that a short knock interrupted the moment. In a matter of seconds, the Empress stood and hurriedly made her way towards the double doors that served as an entrance, peeping out carefully before opening it to accept what was most likely the dinner she had called for. She softly thanked the obscured maid and returned with a silver cart containing several dishes covered with large, intricately decorated lids. Parking it at a nearby table, she carefully arranged the food and drinks before biting her lip and returning to look at me. I sat watching her silently, awaiting her next words.
"You can sit over here..." She gestured to a white chair decorated in a delicate floral pattern with several royal blue cushions for comfort. "-If you'd like," she added quickly.
I stood, feeling oddly light and dizzy as my stomach rumbled violently at the scent of food. I had forgotten what starvation did to the body; how the appetite turned inward, its own muscles and tissues festering, like hungry rats feasted on their own kin when starved long enough.
I made my way to the table, feeling the strain that our journey had put on my muscles, carefully sitting down again in the appointed chair and amusedly reminding myself not to slouch. An empty plate and several pieces of cutlery lay before me as the Empress lifted a number of lids to reveal something that more closely resembled one of Sokolov's paintings rather than actual food. The scent that traveled in hot wafts of air was nothing short of delicious, and I could feel my mouth water at the aroma.
The Empress carefully filled my plate with a variety of foods I had never dared dream of touching, their rich textures and flavourful spices probably the best of Gristol.
The first bite was nothing short of magic, and as I chewed and swallowed a shiver ran down my back. I took another mouthful and another. Bite after bite, and the sensation stayed as rich and intense as it had been the first time.
I suddenly noticed the Empress looking at me with something akin to surprise, not appearing to have touched her own plate of food. Hesitantly, I swallowed as my gaze darted between her and my plate. She stayed silent.
"What?"
"Oh, no nothing," she started, before catching herself momentarily. "It's just…" It appeared she made a habit of it, as she once again bit down on her lip before her eyes darted back to me.
"You look hungry," she finished.
I snorted, trying hard to prevent myself from accidentally spitting the new mouthful of food back onto my plate.
"I am, yes," I replied curtly, returning to my meal.
Right now I enjoyed the riches that I had been denied for so long, and felt strangely torn about it. I had always despised gluttony — but I found my body urging me on, effectively snuffing out that small voice in the back of my head.
The Empress nodded and diverted her eyes, her teeth back to biting that unfortunate lower lip of hers. You'd say she was starving too, from the constant lip-munching she did.
"I've been wondering this for a long time..." she started hesitantly, eyes trying to break mine away from the dishes in front of me. I chose to ignore her instead. "How old are you?"
I paused my chewing, now looking at her with raised eyebrows. "I don't know, I haven't been counting very securely."
She shook her head irately. "No," her hands rose to accompany the word. "I mean how old were you when you were… sacrificed."
I coughed into my elbow after swallowing what was most likely a piece of fruit too soon. When the coughing ceased I met her eyes again, as she sat observing me patiently. "15," I answered, rolling around another piece of exotic looking fruit with my fork, watching it make way for the expensive silver.
She snorted. "You're obviously not 15 anymore."
I raised my eyebrows at her.
"Excuse me Empress, I wasn't aware you were such a professional on my own personal history. Did you read up on it at the local Abbey?"
Her cheeks reddened and I noticed a straightening in her posture, an arch to her back as she raised herself ever so slightly in height. "No! I mean, I think it's physically impossible for you to still be 15. You've obviously matured." She paused for a second, pulling her gaze from mine as her eyes seemed to rove across her own thoughts until something occurred to her. "In fact, I think you may have been 15 when I found you." Her eyes shot up, observing my face critically.
Before I could respond she was at my side, moving around my form as her eyes set out to explore my appearance, something flickering in their amber depths. Taking a step back, she bit down on her lip again, pacing back and forth in front of me. "Now that I come to think of it," she regarded me with a curious look, "I'd say your voice has gotten deeper, too."
"How would that be possible?" I asked her skeptically; she was clearly imagining things.
She shook her head, index finger gesticulating emphatically in the air as she spoke up again. "That's not the relevant question," she started, turning back to me. "An ancient Void entity suddenly turns mortal after several thousands of years? It doesn't get much stranger than that." She took another step towards me and sank to her knees to meet me face to face. "What if you're not meant to be alive right now? What if you're dying faster than a normal person would?"
I scoffed. "Great, all according to my original plan."
She slapped my arm, and I winced at the intensity of the sensation.
"No, not great! We don't know what happens if you do actually die. It could mean the end of all things." She stood again and continued her pacing. My eyes trailed her movements as I sat rubbing my assaulted limb, nerves burning from the brief contact. "You're in some sort of limbo, not quite alive. Perhaps that's why the whale oil is just acting strange instead of completely losing its powers."
"So what you're basically saying is I should be worried about premature balding — worst case scenario?"
"What I'm saying is we need to get to the bottom of this before you die of old age!" She threw her hands in the air. "For all I know it could be a matter of days or years before you turn old and die; we don't know how fast the process goes."
I observed a crack in the carefully polished floor as my mind deciphered what the Empress was saying. My assassination had clearly failed in the literal sense of the word, but now it appeared I was to die soon anyway. Perhaps immortality came at a price — a steep one. How I had taken on a physical form was already beyond me, now this form operated by an unknown set of rules, too.
We were in for a race against the clock as the world's fate hung by a thread — which sounded compelling enough to catch my interest.
"So now what, we visit the Void doctor and have him do Voidoo on me?"
The Empress lifted one of her arched eyebrows at me. "Did your sense of humour die along with you all those centuries ago?"
I couldn't help but snort, which was quickly followed by a tired yawn. My eyes suddenly felt incredibly heavy, and before I could understand was was happening my vision faded to black.
I awoke the next morning to the sounds of harsh whispers and hushed tongues. For a moment I didn't know where I was or what was happening, but memories of the previous night quickly came flooding back.
"Listen Emily — I know, alright, I could have made my return sooner, of course! I could have at least made an effort." An angry voice arose from near the double doors. "But this? This is how you lash out? By the Outsider's crooked cock, Emily!"
I felt my features contort into an annoyed grimace.
"Wyman you don't understand, please calm down," the Empress hurriedly whispered to her lover.
"No I think I do understand Em," Wyman grunted. "I thought we had an understanding, thought that was what you needed: time and patience. Yet here you are..." I could hear the anger rising in their voice, mixing through the dulcet tones like poison.
"Wyman, that is not at all what happened!" Emily exclaimed in annoyance.
"Save it, Em." The person whom had held her heart for the past few years spoke with an unquestionable finality.
I realised I was lying on top of something soft. Looking around, I recognised the Empress's bed. I quickly turned and came face to face with the one I had occasionally seen before, far away in the safe and distant shelter of the Void.
Wyman stared directly at me and as their gaze locked with mine I could make out the slight widening of their light eyes. My joints cracked and popped as I hoisted myself to a sitting position, my wiry frame clumsy and stiff from sleep. My mind — still sluggish — attempted to assess the situation.
I noticed the white of Wyman's knuckles, the stressed tendons tight with tension as their fists shook at their sides. My eyes flitted to the Empress, deciphering the way she was watching me: the strained set of her jaw, the fresh lines marring her face. Lines that hadn't been there the night before. As I came to a stand I noted the way I towered over both of them; the Empress must have made a valid point last night, as I did seem to be taller than before. A heavy silence had settled, Wyman in an obvious state of indecision.
At last I broke it, the deep sound of my voice that echoed off the walls a definite reminder of my physical being.
"One takes witness to their lover in a setting so blatantly questionable to their virtue." I spoke slowly as I wet my lips, slowly inching closer to the pair. "One unquestionably faithful might have bestowed upon their trusted lover the same faith received." I paused, coming to a stop in front of the Morley noble, hands clasped behind my back.
"What does the assessment of a situation unclear say of the assessor, so biasedly critical?" I questioned, tilting my head whilst maintaining eye contact. I could distinctly hear the heart pounding erratically in Wyman's chest, robbed of its usual rhythm. Light eyes darted from me to the Empress — stress flowed visibly through a thickened artery, pulsing on a forehead beginning to pebble with sweat. I surveyed it with curiosity. Up close I could easily smell their discomfort.
"Wyman... What is he talking about?" the Empress implored, suspicion painting her voice as her eyes drifted to me as if I had been the one questioned.
"Em, listen... You need to understand-" the Morley noble started, before I interrupted them. I was no longer immortal; I did not have the time for these... conflicts.
I raised my chin, looking down on the pleading paramour even further. "What I mean is that three weeks and four days after Delilah's coup, our Morley noble warmed their belly with rich Tyvian wines, their tongue with poems of a broken heart, and last but not least, their-"
"Enough!" The noble interjected, throat rasping with emotion. "Enough, please!"
They turned to the Empress, trapping her delicate hands in their own. "Em please, I would never do that to you... I thought you were gone, thought I'd never see you again, I didn't mean-" Their hand shot up, knuckles tenderly caressing their lover's reddened cheek as a single tear traveled down.
"I love you, Em."
The Empress closed her eyes, pulling back from the contact. Wyman made another attempt to reach out but was met with more distance. Their soft pleas went unanswered until at last the Empress opened her eyes again, their amber depths burning.
"Out. Please." She pleaded in clipped tones, turning her back to the noble who had been her first love, her confidant — her future.
Ever the soft one, Wyman nodded solemnly. Their eyes reflected a weary sadness, like an old wound reopened.
"I understand." The sentiment was softly spoken, accepting that they had wronged the one they loved in a way that would be hard to forgive.
Sending me a last questioning look, the noble stepped out, closing the double doors behind them with a soft thud. I stood watching the space they had inhabited not too long ago, mentally dissecting the events that had just passed.
I was abruptly ripped from my thoughts as a soft bundle was thrown at me. When I turned to look, my eyes met something akin to clothes. Except these were far superior to the garments of the everyday man. These were rich silken robes only royalty could afford.
"Get dressed, we need to start planning." As the Empress spoke, the sadness that had been apparent earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by sharp movements and overly pronounced syllables. I looked her up and down, surprised at her eagerness to continue.
"What about what just happened?" I asked, intrigued.
She shot me a hard look before she continued moving around the room, searching for the Void knew what.
"It doesn't matter," she replied.
My eyes followed her, head turning to keep track.
"You love them." It was more a statement than a question.
The Empress stopped for a second, her back turned to me, before slowly meeting my gaze.
"I do."
I wanted to know, to understand. Everything about her screamed agony, yet she kept on going. What was her pain? She read something in my eyes — she must have — as understanding dawned on her features.
"It doesn't matter. Whether I love them or not, what I feel is wasted in a dying world."
I just stood there silently, her words not quite settling in. What had shown on my face for her to read and understand so accurately?
"You really do look older," she commented from across the room, and my eyes snapped back to her moving form. She appeared to be arranging a stack of papers that lay sprawled across her desk. Thumbing through them, she seemed to decide on a few notes hidden away between the masses. Plucking them from their place, she moved them to the side of the desk that was untouched by paperwork, effectively separating them from the rest.
"Not much, though." Apparently satisfied, she returned to where she had stood: a mere meter away from me, the smell of her perfume wafting in thick waves through the small space. Her amber eyes scrutinised me, traveling the planes of my face. I felt my heart hammer in my chest, suddenly self-conscious.
The Empress looked calmer, less pained by the heartbreak she'd endured just moments ago. Love was a fickle thing; I had seen what it did to even the soundest of minds. The lengths people would go, the sacrifices they'd make... All in the name of love. Love was as big a mystery to me as I was to the common folk. I had never experienced romantic love during or after my lifetime. Perhaps I had died too prematurely to understand romance, perhaps too inexperienced to even truly recognise it. I had never understood why love made people do what they did, had never experienced the swelling or breaking of a heart myself.
"If you'd ask me, I'd say you're 18."
"What?" I had all but forgotten the Empress and what she'd been talking about.
"18," she repeated. "Of course we'd have to verify to be sure, have that checked out by a physician. Then we can do the math."
I nodded, not truly listening, too preoccupied by her nearness. A sense of relief flooded me as she finally stepped away, continuing her business. From an adjacent room I could hear a faucet turn, followed by running water. The Empress emerged, directing me to follow her. As I entered, the robes she'd thrown me in hand, I noticed a large tub in the left corner, water streaming into it from a golden faucet.
The room was grand, the walls covered in wooden panels. Multiple worn rugs covered the wooden floors. A mirror was attached to a wooden desk, reflecting the light that streamed in through multiple windows.
"You can wash up and do what you have to do to get ready." The Empress spoke, turning to leave again. "I have several pressing matters to attend to before we'll be able to carry on with our planning."
I nodded as she left, and turned to the bath, watching the soap collect where the stream hit the rising layer of water. At the sound of the double doors closing I kicked off my pants and other articles of clothing, throwing them on the floor nearby. When I unbuttoned my blouse I was met with the clear white of bandages covering my stomach. Inspecting myself as I stood before the mirror, I had to agree with the Empress. My reflection presented me with a slightly taller man sporting a more pronounced jawline, sharper cheekbones, and a barely visible layer of black stubble that tasked me with the tedious chore of shaving.
I was gaunt, made of skin and bones like the beggar I'd been once. My muscles and tendons lay heavily defined beneath my pallid skin, like the wires of a machine. I watched them ripple under the tension I supplied, as if coming to life at my command. I had never truly looked at myself, especially not once I inhabited the Void. Looks had been unimportant then.
Shaking my head, I turned to the bath, abandoning my reflection and the distant emotions it had stirred. I closed the faucet and allowed myself to sink into the warm soapy water, careful as I submerged the bandaged part of my body — the wound stinging unpleasantly at the contact. The heat of the steaming water was quickly soaked up by my skin, it's warmth strikingly opposed to the constant cold of the Void. Of course, I never truly felt anything in the Void. It wasn't literally a feeling; it was more akin to a mental sensation. A vibe.
I rested my head against the edge of the basin and closed my eyes, feeling that same drowsiness as the night before take over. I could hear the sounds of bickering birds through the windows, their wings hitting the panes.
Taking a deep breath I sank to the bottom of the tub, head completely submerged into the warm liquid. As I lay there in a different kind of world, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling through the water. I found myself enjoying all the new and different sensations. But most of all I was enjoying the hungry burning of my lungs, begging me to gasp for air. In the distorted world of the water I could hear my heartbeat clear as day. Life. There was so much life in me. I hungrily drank in the feeling of my body fighting the lack of oxygen: a duel with death. Existence was so much more rewarding in the face of death.
As my mind started to grow dim, bubbles of air reaching the surface through my nose and mouth, I closed my eyes again and pushed myself up. Water cascaded across the floors, casting a shine over the smooth bits that were not covered by rugs. I sat gasping for air, my hair stuck to my face and droplets clinging to my dark lashes.
I tugged on my sleeves as the Empress silently watched me from the doorway, the robes she had given me a royal blue bordering on black, the edges decorated with a gold trimming. Looking into the mirror I realised I did not recognise the man I saw. I was a far cry from the boy I had been for so long. Looking refined, dressed in expensive silks, the lightness of my eyes emphasised by the deep shades of the robes. I found myself staring in silence, indistinguishable emotions roaring to life deep within me.
It irked me. I loathed the way it felt, loathed how I didn't know the how's and why's of my own inner workings. The residues of a life long ended screamed inside of me, fought to take over the calm that had ruled for over 4000 years.
"Here let me help." The Empress had spoken suddenly, coming to stand before me. Pale fingers carefully smoothed out the wrinkles, straightening the fabric with practiced grace. The warmth of her hands burned through the silks. I watched the crown of her head, the silken hairs pulled up in a collected hive, not one out of place. A stark contrast to the world that lay outside the safe confines of the tower.
Finished, she tilted her head to meet my gaze, lingering there in curious silence. I was acutely aware of the steady thumping of my heart, the flow of life through my ancient veins. This body distracted me so, stole my thoughts and replaced them with unreliable things such as feelings and wants. I felt so out of place in this world, in my own skin; I had painfully outgrown myself. And as I stood now, dressed in fine silk, the sight of myself in a life I was never meant to have stung. The Empress and I were worlds apart, yet here we stood.
Equal footing.
After a quick breakfast the Empress gestured for me to follow, leading me towards her messy desk. There she quickly searched through the large piles of paper, picking out a number of bundles.
"You are to be known as Melvil Lithon, a young noble traveling from the town of Whitecliff," she started. "Our young Melvil was sent to Dunwall by his elderly father: a well-known nobleman with deteriorating health, looking upon his son to be the family heir. However Melvil is stricken by an unknown ailment, ageing faster than his peers. Rumour has it the great Royal Physician Anton Sokolov might be able to find a cure to an illness so rare." The Empress paused, licking her lips. "So Melvil was ordered to see if he could convince the Royal Physician to help him and his family in exchange for a rare reward…
"You see, the origin of Melvil's disease is suspected to relate to something his deranged mother did, right at his birth. Dabbling with black magic in secret, Melvil's mother possessed a very rare artefact: the blood of the Outsider. Hoping to grant her son just a fraction of the Outsider's powers, she fed some of the blood to her newborn child. The remainder she hid in a family heirloom, hoping it could serve as a tether to the Void itself, strengthened by her child. When the father found out, she was executed in secret, the heirloom safely locked away to avoid any further harm to the family name. Anton Sokolov would do just about anything for such a treasure."
She presented me with a number of forged letters and legal documents. Everything had been perfectly fabricated, from the handwriting to the family name and sigil. It was all there, and none would be the wiser. No one would bat an eye at some strange hazel-eyed boy from the remote town of Whitecliff.
"You've put a lot of thought into this," I remarked.
The Empress smiled, fingers touching her lips as her eyes glazed over with memories. "I've always loved to write stories… Adventures."
"I know."
Her eyes shot up in surprise.
"You seem to forget who I am."
The Empress continued staring, her features drawn into an expression I couldn't quite place. "...Right." She straightened her back once more.
"Even as a girl you were never afraid of danger — of the world."
"I was afraid of you."
"I know , " I repeated once more. The Empress observed me carefully, words on her tongue that she held captive in her mouth. "But you were brave nevertheless, in a world that isn't kind to little girls."
"Or you?"
I held my tongue, finding myself out of words to say. I knew what she'd meant, but I didn't understand why she'd said it. Was she being sympathetic towards me? Or was it something else entirely?
She spoke once more, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry." She turned back to her desk, continuing her planning in an effort to shake the strange mood that had settled over the both of us. "You are to leave the tower and present these documents I've prepared to the guards at the entrance." She held up a small stack of legal papers. "These contain my written permission. Once these have been delivered to the front gate, Anton Sokolov will be called upon." She took a purse from a nearby drawer, searching its contents until she extracted a small vial.
"Fill this with your blood and keep it with you until you meet Anton. No one is to know about this payment." She shook the vial in front of me with each word she spoke. "Anton won't know it's your blood he's receiving — it won't matter. He'll believe it to be real when he sees that your ailment has magic spelled all over it. In return, he'll investigate whatever's wrong with you. He'll suspect the disappearance of the Outsider, along with the sudden malfunctioning of whale oil, might have something to do with your rare affliction that suspiciously started around the same time. With a bit of luck he might be able to stall or cure whatever's ailing you."
I took the vial from her, along with a small knife she'd disinfected first. Pressing the knife's edge into the palm of my hand, I pushed to draw blood. Red liquid flowed into the vial like river sludge, my gut filled with an unpleasant feeling as I watched it spill from the delicate cut.
When it was halfway full I closed the vial, watching the thick red liquid slosh in its glass container.
"You'll be staying in the tower, your case treated as highly confidential. My father will know the full truth of course, he'll be a valuable ally. I'll have to talk to Wyman about this, too. Prevent them from outing us." She retrieved another set of papers from her pile. "These are the documents regarding the whale oil issue. Father has been set on finding out the origins of the problem." She thumbed through the documents.
"We'll be directly involved with his progress; several meetings have already been held. We'll need his knowledge to assess our next move. Hopefully you'll be able to at least shed some light on several things. There are too many questions that remain unanswered."
The Empress stood and made her way to a large wooden cabinet at the other side of the room. From it she retrieved a large leather bag and some more robes. She stuffed them into the bag along with the documents she'd forged, returning to me and handing it over. After that she headed for the large windows that led to the ledge outside, opening them with one swift motion. I followed.
The sun beat down on us as the wind howled past our figures. I felt it tousle my hair and noticed how the Empress's stayed almost perfectly in place. With a deep sigh she turned to face me, eyes taking in my form one last time before smiling hesitantly.
"You'll have to be careful. The climb down is going to be dangerous, and we can't have you dying on us just yet."
"Yet," I repeated, earning me an annoyed eye-roll.
"Don't do that." Frowning up at me, I could tell she meant it.
" Just remember , you're Melvil Lithon of Whitecliff. You've come here to meet with the Royal Physician on the Empress's approval," she reminded me, drilling the words into my mind.
"I understand."
She nodded before she turned to look out the window, gaze trailing the soft lines and shapes on the horizon. I noticed how the sun burned in her eyes and reflected off of her, her skin glowing. I could almost see the pulse beating its way through her veins, the thudding of her royal heart. So much like her mother's.
I followed the direction of her gaze, looking out over the unforgiving sea. Somewhere in that deep and vast expanse of water, hidden away from the corrupted societies of men, swam beasts as grand and mysterious as the ocean itself.
I had dreamt their songs, their sorrows. Had watched them bleed, bend, and break — over and over again — as men took without remorse and without giving back. The Empress had tried to change this, to free the innocent creatures from their fates. But, as most people did, she had quickly learned that the harsh reality of the world wasn't something she could easily alter. Regardless of her crown, she stood powerless as hundreds upon thousands of innocents were slaughtered for the greed and prosperity of the people. Her people.
The Empress let out a sigh, eyes downcast and shoulders bearing a weight too heavy for one so young. She righted herself before turning to me, sending me another one of her brief smiles, signalling me to depart.
"Good luck." She said her goodbyes. "Mel."
I briefly returned her smile before slowly climbing up the ledge, ready for my departure. I clutched the leather bag to my side, careful to keep its contents safe. It was a very long way down, and this climb wasn't going to be easy for me without the Empress there to help.
I looked at the Empress in question one last time, before nodding once and preparing my muscles for the scale up the roof.
Knowing there would be no one to save me this time, I put every ounce of strength I had in each grab and pull. I felt the muscles on my back ripple and burn as I put them under extreme stress, relying on them to keep me from falling to what would be my certain death. I grit my teeth, progressing slowly, bit by bit, knowing that if I went too fast I'd lose what little grip I had on the smooth stones. I felt the familiar stinging in my abdomen, the wound that frustratingly limited my movements.
There were a few times when I'd almost slipped, adrenaline shooting through my system in immediate response. It sent me on a high, causing my hands to tremble from the overflowing energy that I felt pulsing through me. It left me in a daze, as if it wasn't truly me climbing the side of the tower, but some other deranged individual daring to risk their life in such a manner. You'd have to be absolutely mad to do this willingly. I was reminded of the many nights I'd seen the Empress climb from her chambers this exact way.
With a final pull, I hoisted myself onto the roof, my body collapsing onto the tiles with a heavy thud. I stayed there for a few minutes, allowing my heart to calm as it raced from the extreme endeavour I had forced it to undergo.
I felt relieved that I'd made it this far already; now came the much easier part of scaling down the side. I'd memorised the route the Empress had taken, knowing it would probably come in handy.
Wiping away the sweat that had collected on my brow, I stood. Dusting off the fine pants I'd been given, I urged myself not to forget to tidy up before facing the guards. A noble would never arrive at the Empress's tower covered in dirt — and pieces of said tower. It would make for quite the scandal.
Walking up to my destined path, I carefully lowered myself, throwing my legs over the edge first. Supporting myself using my hands, I descended step by step before feeling secure enough to let go and shuffle on without the reinforcement of the roof.
After what felt like ages of slow-paced shuffling, I reached the bottom of the massive structure. Obscured by the large edges and pillars, I carefully dropped down onto the soft soil. I was met with an array of scents; grass, water, and mud alike. It all overwhelmed me with its intensity. I allowed myself to enjoy the earthy smells, my heart calming with a few deep breaths.
Using my hands to pat down my robes — effectively cleaning them of whatever dirt they'd picked up on my way down — I was more than ready to face the guards. Confidence surging, I went over the things the Empress had told me one last time before departing.
I took to a slow run and, albeit a bit clumsily, headed for the entrance of Dunwall tower.
