AN: I'll just get on with it, the rest of the AN is at the end.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dishonored and the fair Empire of Isles or the Negima series; this is fanfiction for a reason.

"Conversations"

"Powerful/enigmatic being talking"


So, Corvo's role in the story has finally reached to a fitting end, Daud is on his way to bring an end to his own little tale. It has wearied me to understand that...curiosities, as much as they are, will eventually break...and eventually die.

As much an interest as they are, savouring something that does not stay forever is merely a quick sensation, like the pleasure of a very scarce drug that men use, once used, it is gone.

To lose such a curiosity would be a shame; the intrigue of a never-ending story, the choices the boy, girl, man or woman faces and what they choose. I give them the tools, then I sit...and watch.

But it has always been so very unfortunate, they always die, one by one. I cannot help but feel frustrated by such a fact.

Yet this will not last, the luxury of a never-ending story will never elude my grasp forever. If my curiosity is doomed to die at the end, I will have to change that. If the beating of the hear falters, it will no longer spell death.

I will give this gift to someone worthy of my attention, someone so interesting that the never-ending story will continue to engross me with its minor details, the subtle decisions...the nuances.

Alas that was something that I had to consider very carefully. But that decision was made a few years ago, and now my next...longer-term fascination has almost reached maturity

But I digress, I would need to reflect on the curiosity, once upon a time, like any tale of witches, fairies and beasts...


Whaling, has always been the backbone of the Empire's Economy, through the extensive and creative use of whale oil and many other materials, it is what was giving the Isles its edge compared to rival nations.

It is here whereby an illusive figure, neither angel nor demon, planted a seed, one that would have some far reaching impacts on the life of a few, more so for one. Though he would wait patiently, and allow it to mature to his object of curiosity.

I had all started with a whaling journey, and the seemingly trivial discovery of one idealistic young man, looking to make it big for himself.

"There she blows!" came a very loud and somewhat hysterical voice of a sailor, one of the many working under a Whaler ship Captain, it would be made immediately apparent that there was indeed a whale in sight.

And a sight it was, despite the ship being a few sizes bigger than its primary target, the whale itself was a collossus to behold, a behemoth almost 30 metres long and its giant fins splashing water about the ocean. The whaling ship was reasonably close to the whale and it was indeed a moment of truth for the crew, whom were made up of fresh employs, strong able-bodied men with the courage and the skill to tackle the challenge.

One of them however, was not part of said group, it was idealistic young man currently suffering disillusionment, trying his best to be of good help in the task ahead, but alas he was one of the few newly entered and he was not the most physically capable of the bunch. So in the end he manned no harpoon, nor did he perform overwatch. He merely remained in the engine room, keeping the ship running with a few others whilst the shouting outside was plain for everyone to hear.

The whaling took place for a good hour, and throughout that time there was really no reason for him to be out.

Indeed...a shaky start to something he thought would be promising.

As the task was done, and the ship hauled the large body of the whale back to the Dunwall Docks, the boy heard a shanty being sung by those on the upper deck of the ship. It was a song of victory, some of the boys had their first taste of whaling, indeed for them it was to be an exciting experience, and likely a big boon to their wallets.

Now we are ready to sail for the Horn,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
Our boots an' our clothes boys are all in the pawn,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

Heave a pawl, oh, heave away,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
The anchor's on board an' the cable's all stored,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
Where the pretty young gals all come down in their flocks,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

Heave a pawl, oh, heave away,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
The anchor's on board an' the cable's all stored,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

Come breast the bars, bullies, an' heave her away,
Way, ay, roll an' go!

Soon we'll be rollin' her 'way down the Bay,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

Heave a pawl, oh, heave away,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
The anchor's on board an' the cable's all stored,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!

[Sea Shanty: Randy Dandy O']


"100 coin...that's just enough ta' feed me for two weeks." the young whaler muttered to himself, he had overheard that joining up a job with such a high labour demand would garner him more coin than that, but indeed it was up to the magnitude of 'expertise' of said labour. He was at the bottom, so it really was not of much benefit to him.

"Ma' was right...why did I even come ta' Dunwall anyway? Thought I could make it big here, but fate decided ta' screw me o'er..". The aspiring whaler continued to complain to himself,

He was feeling grumpy, and so in order to perhaps calm himself down slightly, he resorted to what unhappy or disgruntled lower to middle class workers would do. It included visiting a public house, more commonly known as a pub and drown out those dissatisfaction with a lot of ale, and finally getting into a fight or two with the other angry-drunk customers. But in his intoxicated state, he had failed to consider a very vital aspect of his standing in such a decision.

He was not the most physically fit in the pub filled with strong rowdy-men and hence was promptly beaten up and thrown out of the pub in his drunk state. He was in a dockside pub and the other ruly and unruly customers had taken the liberty of tossing him out for causing trouble.

"Aye! Yer' betta' throw me out' yer bastards! But I'll remembers yer alls'...when I get rich, Imma make sure yer' going to get hell!" the drunk whaler boy ranted upon being tossed out, and as he did so, he staggered up. Satisfied that his balance was adequate, he resorted to walking along the docks.

In his clouded mind, he had no direction in mind; so it was a case of following his heart...or his stupidity. Nevertheless, he had been inadvertently been heading to a very specific location as if drawn to it, just off the docks and towards a small sandy area by the sea. Laying on the sand was a odd shape, and as the boy moved closer to it, he could feel the alcohol in his head evaporating rapidly.

His mind was now clear, and his vision clearer as he looked at the strange object partially buried in the sand. A trinket, possibly a charm if he had ever seen one.

Appearance wise, it looked like it was made of bones, but had a specific design to it, some metal attaching three rods of bone. He had not known what it was, but it just seemed to radiate some form of energy that he could not discern, this trinket had made him curious.

He would have contemplated further, but it was indeed getting very late, he still had a job the following day and some rest was needed. Without further thought, he reached to the trinket, wipe off the sand on it and shove the object into his pocket. Then, he was off to his flats at Dunwall's poorer districts.

In the whaler's pocket, the trinket started to hum in an unknown energy, it lasted for a moment before it went silent. The whaler was none the wiser.

A man trying to make good of his life, taking a job that he views creates a bridge from rags to riches. Sadly, this is a thought shared by the masses, every other man sees the same thing and acts the same way. One of a million.

Shame, such a shame this man has been; a forgettable person, with a forgettable goal, and a forgettable mind. Such a shame that he failed to grab my attention.

Alas patience is a good virtue, and patience is something I handsomely possess. Time will play its game, and I will wait.

The trinket would remain with the whaler, as he toiled and slaved his way day in and day out for the bulk of his life, trying to find the success he so obsessively desired. Alas it would be a waste, as he started to grey, he became one with the masses, a face no one knew.

When he realised the futility of his decision, it was already too late...


Fourty Years later;

It was a rather crowded market at the outer rims of Dunwall, there were a large number of merchants, selling an extensively wide range of products. Some were as common as meat, bread, and vegetables; much needed resources the lower to middle class citizens would need and was rational for one to spend their well earned currency on.

Whilst some others, were either of the elusive kind or just the downright shady; miracle cures for ailments claimed to be engineered by famous Natural Philosophers, get rich quick schemes sold to the public like common lottery tickets; and finally endless stands selling no few counterfeit jewelry and charms sometimes for prices greater than the genuine articles.

Especially the charms, they were always for sale and always had the most creative 'purposes', claimed to have worked by the merchants as they thought up 'personal experiences'. It was not limited to vast fortunes, youth, or even fertility if one so desired, and almost all of them were useless.

Alas, in a vast sea of pretenses and make-believes, there were some which are as real as there are whales across the ocean. Some had undisclosed purposes, too elusive to understand, some that should never be purchased on a whim by any ordinary person, lest they be harmed from it.

Of course, when it came to the right person it could have been a different story.

In the more quiet corners of the Dunwall market, a lone refinery worker; a married man with a daughter walked the streets. It was getting very late and most stores have already closed, except for one charm stand, selling a range of unusual trinkets, and one interesting bone pendant.

The worker stopped his tracks, something about the pendant drew him in more than it really should. He would have normally ignored the countless yells of these trinket sellers and their outrageous claims; it was indeed strange for him to be affected now.

And strangely enough the old man running the stand was quiet even with an apparently curious potential customer.

"That sir, is a Whale Bone charm if yer' interested." The old man voiced out suddenly, startling the worker.

"I-it's an interesting trinket, well...what is it good for?" The worker queried, still unsure.

The old man's wrinkled face creased in a frown, almost contemplating or recalling, "can't be darn sure ta' be hon'est..". The man grabbed hold of the charm and looked at it for a moment.

"Been hav'n it fer...quit' a few years now, t'was a whaler I was...not them band of killers but a real whaler on da' sea. Came across it somewhere...but me memory's going ta shit." He then gave the charm to the worker, placing it closer to his view.

"I s'pose ya could say, tis' a protection charm of sorts. Never wore it and keep it in me chest a good long time...never got in' ta' fights or murders or nothin'. But, I don't want it no more, so sellin' it I am."

The worker took it from the old man's hand, looked at it closer; it looked simple, roughly made. But...there was something just so attractive about it, almost as if something at the back of his mind telling him to buy it.

It was then he thought of something.

"It's my little girl's birthday in a week, this could be a good gift...yeah, I suppose it would." the worker spoke to himself and mentally justifying the purchase.

It did not take long for him to make a decision, "How much?"

The old man thought for a moment, "how about, twenty coins?". It was a surprisingly affordable price for even a worker like him, but alas he was curious.

"Well how sure are you it's a protection charm, you seem very keen on selling the thing?" he asked.

The old man just shrugged it off, "Bah! Don' take me word fa' it, I ain't wantin' it no more; b'sides these old bones are gettin' brittle. Thinkin' I don't hav' much time left. Spendin' it on som' ale and grog be much betta'."

The worker nodded, gave the money to the owner, and put it in his pocket. He was happy that he could get something for his daughter, even if she never asked for anything.

As the refinery worker walked back to his house, he heard the old man ask him one last question.

"By the way, what's yer lass' name?"

The worker thought about the question for a moment, he suppose it would not hurt to entertain an aging man, so he just replied, "It's Eva sir, she's turning eleven this year."

The old man nodded, and he gave a final message, "That charm'll protect her good it will, bless her too if I had ta' say. You'll see!"

The young man gazed back at the old man quizzically, "what makes you so sure old man?"

"I ain't, just thought of sayin' it s'pose...like I said, don't take mah' word fer it."

The worker continued walking, not giving the old store owner's message any further attention.


It was her birthday, she was turning eleven this year and suffice to say she had been rather excited, she was not a privileged daughter of a wealthy Dunwall merchant, nor was she an heiress to any imperial Noble family. But she had always been content with her life, her parents were alive, and they loved her as much as she did the same for them.

She just hoped that when she would be of age, she could go out and work, to support the family.

It was just after dinner, when her father gave her a loving and firm hug, something she enjoyed thoroughly.

"Happy birthday Eva, you have been a wonderful daughter to your mother and I.." her father face turned somber, " and I had hoped that you would get a better life than this. If I had the talent or the capabilities, I would have given you the world, anything you desired just to see your face lit up in joy."

She merely shook her head at what her father said, she needed no elaborate gifts or anything materialistic, "please don't say that Father, you and mother have done all you can. I am just happy you are here, that is all I can ever ask for."

Her father lightened up significantly, and her mother had a soft smile on her face, it was then her father continued;

"Of course what father am I to not at least put in the effort then? So for your birthday, I thought I could buy you a little something with the money I could spare." He dug into his pocket and took out the Bone Charm. He gently handed it to her daughter, whom was surprised and fascinated by the present.

She took it from her father, and eyed the charm, to most it might seem like a crude carving; but there was some form of beauty about the charm something that was somewhat beyond its apparent simple form, and that made it alluring in her eyes. As she held it, she almost felt more secure and contented that she already was. She hugged her father again and gave him a big smile "I..love it father, thank you very, very much!"

Her father looked relieved to hear that, and offered to attach the charm to her neck with the rope that came with it, which she happily obliged.

It was then she heard her father telling her, "listen Eva, this is a charm, it will bless you. Wherever your mother and I will be, or whatever happens to us, it will keep you safe. Keep it close to you, wear it always all right?"

Eva took her father's request to heart, and from that moment, she never took the pendant off. Over the months no one would have seen her without the charm around her neck. It was after all, a gift from one of the people whom meant the world to her.

Dear child, there will be more gifts for you; much more than you can ever imagine. In the coming years, Dunwall will take a dip into darkness and despair, and I will see how well you will face the adversity. When the time is right, you will either be another corpse claimed by time and decay, or a child charmed by fate.

Whatever it is, I will be watching...


AN: It has been awhile since I have uploaded something, I have been working on Creation of All Things for a few days straight, whilst also completing some games that I have pushed to the side. One of such games was Dishonored, and I must say it is a great game, with an engaging plot and to me, a satisfying Low Chaos (Good) Ending. Though let me just say that The Outsider has just made me very curious.

It was then I thought of this idea, appeared out of nowhere and frankly I have no clue how it came to be...as you can see, this is a crossover but it is a little different, a 'reimagining origins' story. It will be focused on well...someone, but you already know who.

Though be advised this tale would be short, I am writing it only to the extent the plot bunny influences my mind and then...well whatever will be, will be. Still, the next chapter will be ready when it is. Also, like any story I write, it is experimental and a whole heap of risk-taking.

I will appreciate reviews, as always.

Druid