Water... the first thing I noticed were the sounds of waves breaking against firm wood, stiff boards creaking beneath the force. Then the birds, carried both by the wind and sea, cawing as they went. I felt a groan rise from my chest, my bones popping and cracking into place as I attempted to move, my muscles stiff and sore. My mind was slow and heavy, sluggishly awakening from what felt like a deep slumber. I didn't recall dreaming, which was a first, my usual sleep filled with unwanted nightmares and terrors.
"People always look so different when they're asleep," a familiar voice spoke to me.
I opened my eyes, my hand immediately shooting up to block the sting of candlelight, unprepared for its brightness. It took a minute or two before my eyes adjusted, and as soon as they did I immediately recognised the interior of Callista's ship, my room the same as it had been when I last ran off. Emily sat at my side, her hands wrapped around a book and her eyes focused on me. She was dressed in white, her skin as radiant as always, complemented by the light fabric. Her hair hadn't been restricted to her usual do, instead it fell down freely, partly framing her face, aside from the strands she had carefully tucked behind her ear. Stripped of every bit of her royalty aside from her posture, I found myself intrigued by how much younger looked — no, lighter, somehow.
"We've almost reached Samara. You've been out for almost a week," she added softly, eyes returning to the book before her. I had a hunch she did so to avoid mine. There was a weariness to her that suggested she hadn't slept much, the skin around her eyes slightly puffy, the loss of Sokolov still visible on the edges of her features.
"How-?" I croaked, my voice hoarse from disuse. I noticed I was wearing white as well, a clean shirt covering my wiry frame. All cuts and gashes I'd inflicted on myself after escaping the Abbey seemed to have healed, somewhat confirming her story.
"The whales helped us." She didn't look up as she spoke, and I noticed how her body grew increasingly tense. "You lost consciousness…" she shook her head, gaze darting towards the window.
The skies outside were dark, and if I had to guess I would say it was probably evening, even though I realised was no way to be certain. My eyes traced the outlines of her profile, the sharp silhouette of her jaw, the rounded edges of her lips. She was being vague, but for some reason that didn't interest me as much as it should. "You're not angry with me?" I asked, almost breathlessly, unable to stop myself even though I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know.
She shrugged, tilting her head at me, gaze locking with mine again. "For what?" She asked, her lips pulled into a straight line. "It was my fault."
The drowsiness that had clung to me was immediately washed away by her words, all traces of sleep gone from my mind. I raised myself onto one of my elbows, looking at her to elaborate. "What do you mean?"
Her teeth started worrying her lip as she looked away once more, lowering the book into her lap. I tried to read her gaze, leaning slightly closer in an attempt to draw her eyes back in. She remained silent for a while, perhaps considering how to tell me whatever it was that seemed to be bothering her so much.
"Emily?" I tipped my head in question and her eyes flitted back to mine, those amber depths swimming with unspoken thoughts.
She reached behind her then, and I recognised the bag she'd been carrying back in the Tower. Rummaging through it, she retrieved an unfamiliar package. Setting it atop of her opened book, her fingers started fumbling with the paper. "I… found these…" her gaze dropped to the bundle in her lap, her hands slowly working on opening the paper wrappings. "I didn't want them to have them, I-" she paused, closing her eyes for a short moment and drawing in a quick breath. "It didn't feel right… Even though I knew I shouldn't…"
I frowned, confused as to what she was talking about, my gaze flicking over to the bundle in her lap curiously.
"They had taken everything from your room, guarding it. I knew the risks of stealing it back — I knew it might alert them of my presence." She removed the outer wrappings, revealing a small stack of parchments, somehow familiar in shape and size. "I took it back anyway… and they must have followed me." She sighed, clenching her eyes shut for a moment as she bit back whatever she was feeling. "She was really pretty, you know?" She turned to smile down at the stack, taking another shaky breath before looking at me. I met her gaze, noticing how her eyes appeared foggy, her eyebrows pulled into a sad frown. "You look so much like her," she whispered as her lips pulled into a forlorn smile, her fingers wrapping around the bundle and reaching out to offer them to me.
My stare traveled down, hesitant to see what she was holding, my heart beating in my throat. I instantly recognised the mesh of lines, the dark charcoal carefully and almost lovingly pressed onto the paper. I unconsciously drew back from those familiar features, pushed away by those piercing eyes and the similar bone structure. My gaze darted between Emily and what she was offering me, parting my lips to say something but unable to find the words. I started feeling dizzy, the room suddenly too small, too much like a prison. I felt the urge to leave, to allow myself more space; more room to think. Without realising I had already started to move and Emily — quick to spot my intentions — took a hold of my arm, keeping me from getting up.
"Please." Her voice was soft, layered with something I could feel but couldn't name. Her hand squeezed my arm, her glistening eyes tracing my features. "Stay."
I glanced down at the hand that held me into place before meeting her pleading gaze. I stared at her, almost as if seeing her for the first time again. I'd always thought her to be beautiful, hauntingly so — from her warm, almond shaped eyes to her sharp nose and full lips, she had a way of making me forget all about my own thoughts. Without warning, everything hit me; every single feeling I felt in her company and had tried to deny ever since escaping the Void — ever since becoming human. It was overwhelming, frightening, exhilarating — it was everything all at once yet not a single thing at all. I had died a thousand deaths and lived a thousand lives, but I had never felt so utterly overcome with such unadulterated humanity. I wanted to cry, laugh, scream, curse — I wanted… I wanted to-
Nothing mattered — Nothing ever lasted but the electrifying touch of her skin as my hand cupped her cheek, as my lips captured hers and moulded against them, as my other hand slipped into the inviting warmth of her hair, as my fingers wove through those dark and silky strands. She tasted like the early promise of crisp morning-dew and sweet honey — of playful dares and loving whispers, and my heart swelled at the rich expanse of emotions she evoked within me. Nothing would ever compare to the maddening way my heart jolted me to keep going, to deepen the kiss and taste more of the delicious way her soft lips moved against mine. Her hair tickled my skin and her lashes briefly dusted my cheek, so soft and subtle yet so inexplicably full of life itself. She let out a small whimper, opening up her mouth for me as her hands let go of what they were holding before pushing up my chest and wrapping around my shoulders, traveling up the sides of my neck to cradle my jaw, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I drank up every little titillating sound she made, finding myself moaning in response as I pulled her closer — as I grew bolder, hungrier, and harder — wanting to wrap her legs around me and-
You think this Empress of yours will be any different?
The words hit me with their chill like arctic winds, whipping at me until the hurt forced me to pull away. "I'm sorry!" My back hit the wall behind me as I futilely tried to undo what mistakes I'd just made. I tried to breathe but the air just wouldn't enter my lungs, instead there was water, oceans of it — crashing and churning and filling my intestines until I was certain they might explode. All I wanted was air, all I needed was to breathe, but the longer I stayed the more I felt like I was about to choke. It all happened too fast, too sudden, and before Emily could react I had stumbled out of the room, the surrounding walls my only support to keep me upright and going as my knees turned to jelly.
What had I done?
My run slowed to a walk, my gaze unfocused as my mind replayed the events over and over again; the warm touch of her skin, the intoxicating feel of her lips, the enticing sounds of her-
What had I done?
I was headed for the deck, eager to feel the wind against my skin instead of the lingering memory of her touch, aching to forget just how incredibly good she had made me feel. It hurt, everything hurt — I had long forgotten the physical ache of emotions and it opened up a whole new perception of the world, of the people I had observed for so long. It had been the missing piece to my humanity, the only thing to keep me from being like everybody else. I desperately wished I could take it all back, revert everything to how things had been before I had lost control. I reached the door, slamming my hand against it, closing my eyes as I pushed it open, desperate for release.
The cold that hit me was staggering, causing me to pause in the doorway. Opening my eyes, I quickly realised the sight that greeted me was shockingly familiar; white snowy mountains surrounded by icy waters. The sea of pine trees that covered the land swallowed what little remaining light there was within their bristly branches, hiding whatever roamed inside their depths. All worries momentarily melted off of me as I stared at the passing landscape, my breath stuck in my throat. Pushing open the door even further, I slowly took my first step out onto the deck. Snow had already covered the wooden planks, my bare feet sinking into the firm blanket, soaking up the cold. It was the first time my skin actually touched real snow again, reminded of the soft crunch as I pressed down on it. The cold stung, but I didn't mind, too overcome by a sense of nostalgia as I watched the familiar mountains roll by.
"I see someone's awake." Callista stood near the edge of the deck, engulfed by the surrounding darkness and dressed in a thick winter coat.
I was shaken by her unexpected presence, my head whipping towards her before I could mask my shock.
"Don't act so surprised," she chaffed, "it's my boat." She shook her head before turning back towards the waters, much to my relief. I briefly wondered what she was doing, soon noticing the familiar splash of whales, realising they were still with us. Callista watched them as they swam alongside the boat, creating large waves as their large bodies cut through the waters — they were making us go faster.
I remained frozen to the spot, caught between a rock and a hard place. I knew that if I turned back, my chances of running into Emily… alone, would be very high. But then again, if I stayed, chances of Callista knowing something happened as soon as Emily joined us would also be very high. But at least then I could count on the fact that Emily wouldn't want Callista to know, because if Callista knew… then Corvo would know. We wouldn't want that, right? Surely Emily wouldn't want that. Images of Corvo the assassin flooded my mind; I vividly recalled the size of his hands and how easily they would fit my neck.
"Matvey!" Just then Emily decided to show up, seemingly unaware of Callista's presence right around the corner. She was out of breath, gasping for air as she had probably sprinted after me, her body out of shape from our imprisonment.
My back stiffened, my skin inexplicably cold and sweaty. I instinctively raised a hand, hoping she'd understand that as a cue for 'don't talk about it', but instead I caught the quick breath she took before bombarding me with her thoughts.
"Listen, I just want to talk, I'm really sorry if I gave you the wrong impression or-"
"Is that Lady Emily?" Callista turned towards me again, her eyes trying to glance past me curiously.
The girl behind me quickly swallowed whatever she was about to say, cutting off mid-sentence awkwardly. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief, grateful Callista had spoken up in time. I watched as she started her approach, her boots crunching across the snow-covered deck, my gaze purposefully ignoring the waiting girl behind me.
"Oh, you're not wearing any shoes!" Emily blurted, catching me off-guard and causing me to forget I really shouldn't look at her — instantly regretting it once I did. The cold had already embraced her skin, causing a soft pink to dust her cheeks and… lips — which were still slightly swollen. "Come on, it's not healthy, you could get sick again," she protested, hesitantly pulling my sleeve to urge me to move.
I was starting to feel lightheaded enough to fear I might collapse if I didn't pull myself together in time, all of my nerves and fears working together to drive my heart into what could only be described as insanity. I didn't recall deciding to move, but soon found myself back in the interior of the ship, my feet relieved of the sting of ice. Before me stood the former Empress, her cheeks still unusually rosy — which caused me to wonder if it actually had anything to do with the cold at all. She parted her lips again, about to speak when Callista entered the small space as well.
"There you are!" She spoke, her eyes darting between the both of us suspiciously. "We're about to hit port," she rubbed her hands together, trying to warm her skin after standing out in the cold for who knew how long, "we should discuss our plans with the Outsider now that we can."
I averted my gaze, staring at a nearby wall instead of the people that surrounded me. My hands were balled into fists at my side, unconsciously clenching and unclenching them to try and ease my nerves.
"Ah, yes, of course..." Emily quickly responded, letting go of my sleeve as she appeared at a loss for words after that, an awkward silence causing the air to feel thick and stuffy.
"Are you alright?" Callista's keen senses had rarely failed her, and I immediately knew we'd be in some sort of trouble soon — if not now — as the perceptive woman had picked up on our discomfort right away.
"No — no, I'm fine." Emily assured her, and I could feel Callista's gaze burn into my skin.
I remained silent, noticing how the waves outside seemed unusually loud.
"O… kay," Callista muttered, letting the palpable tension that clung to us slide for now. "Let's go then," she offered, quickly adding: "I'm sure you're hungry."
A hand was placed on one of my shoulders, forcing me to walk along, my surprised gaze finding it was Callista who pushed me forward before I could reply. Emily quickly fell into step behind us, not saying a word, her eyes continuously burning holes into my back. As we moved along the narrow hallways of Callista's ship, I found my mind was grappling for ways to prevent her from finding out — and for a way to act around Emily without looking like a complete fool. I dreaded any sort of mention of what had happened, not ready to deal with what inevitably end in misery. My bare feet patted along the floorboards, the touch of wood calming me somewhat. But too soon we reached the small cabin where I was pushed into one of the available chairs. Emily quickly made herself comfortable next to me, her legs inches from mine — as if her presence alone wasn't torturous enough.
"Did you already get him up to speed?" Callista inquired as she placed herself opposite from us, one of her hands retrieving a small notebook that was cluttered with small writings and other incoherent ramblings.
"Uhm…" Emily started, caught slightly off-guard, clearing her throat before continuing. "No, I did not."
Callista sent her a strange look, raising one of her sharp eyebrows at the girl next to me.
"I mean — there was so much else… to talk about," She hastily added and I fought the urge to groan as she made everything a thousand times worse with her meaningless mumbles.
Callista hummed dismissively as she scanned through her unreadable notes, one of her fingers ticking against the small book, causing my pulse to jump at every tap. "If you could get the Outsider something to eat?" She requested as her eyes continued to flick across the page.
Emily quickly nodded, immediately handing me some tinned food and cutlery from a nearby cabinet. I grimaced at the small can, not eager to be chewing up tasteless seafood again.
"So, here's the plan," Callista started dryly, licking her lips as she frowned down at a word not even she could decode. "Tyvia, for a long time, used to be a monarchy. Even though it is now ruled by the Presidium, the princes of Tyvia are still universally adored, which is why it's highly unlikely for the people of Samara to recognise a foreign Empress by face alone. We reckon a different hairstyle and a new name should be enough of a cover for Emily, especially since she's never visited Tyvia in the first place." Callista sent me a look for confirmation, her eyes staring at me almost expectantly.
I hesitated, knowing full-well the people of Tyvia despised foreigners and wouldn't pay too much attention to other countries' leaders… I glanced at Emily, only to find her gazing straight at me, her lips slightly parted and- I immediately turned away again, instead focusing on Callista in hopes of calming my racing heart. "Yes… that should work," I mumbled stiffly, trying my best to sound casual as I fumbled with the can nervously.
My own lips still tingled from the memory of our kiss, laced by the lingering taste of something sweet. It wasn't as if it had come out of nowhere — I'd have to be blind to not see the signs. There'd been multiple occasions where it had almost happened, the pull I had felt even then had been unmistakable. My mind replayed everything that had led to my disastrous slip-up, my ruinous moment of poor impulse control. The fact that she hadn't pushed me away immediately only made it all worse — to think that maybe she didn't mind... This was all wrong. And the news that I most likely wouldn't be dying a premature death only served to make everything more complicated.
"Good..." Callista didn't continue straight away, her wary gaze drawn to my hands instead, noticing my unusual clumsiness.
I nearly jumped when Emily gently took the can away from me. "Allow me," she spoke softly, opening it up with ease before offering it back. I hesitantly accepted, mumbling a quick 'thanks' without looking her in the eye, ducking my head to escape the stares, aware I'd just been caught absorbed in my own thoughts.
"At any rate," Callista cut in again, her attention back to her notes, "Emily thought of an alias: Violet Taylor. She's to be called this at all times." The last words were emphasised by a raised eyebrow and a quick glance in my direction.
I nodded in understanding, thoughtlessly stirring my food with a fork. This had to end — this strange thing we had. It was all spiralling out of control. If what Callista had said was true and I really loved Emily...
"I'll be Nora Edwards, and you," she rubbed her temple as she shifted her attention from her notes to me, "you'll just be Matvey. Did you have a last name?"
I shook my head as I dared another bite of the preserved fish, disgusted at the taste — or perhaps it had been the thought of pushing Emily away that had tasted so bitter. But then again, maybe she had already changed her mind herself... She had apologised for giving me the wrong impression after all. What if she hadn't meant to kiss me back? What if she was sorry for having me believe she did?
"Then you'll be my son, Matvey Edwards. Sadly my Tyvian husband passed many years ago, but we'll be visiting his home country to witness the Tyvian lights and experience the culture." Callista sat back in her chair, regarding the both of us with an expectant look.
I quickly reminded myself to nod again, earning a satisfied look from Callista as she continued telling me 'Violet's' background. "Violet is a friend of the family, having grown up alongside you. Her father, Corvo, had some unfinished business at home, deciding to allow her to travel with us instead so she could enjoy the city early."
Her voice quickly faded from my mind as I eagerly convinced myself that Emily obviously regretted everything; she hadn't wanted to share a bed with me, she'd only done so because she'd been about to die and after that because she'd been lonely. She'd used me; I'd been the next best thing in the absence of proper company — that had to be it. I'd been a fool for falling in love, but at any rate that just meant I had no other choice but to let her go. I glanced up at Callista who was still talking, her fingers rubbing circles against her temple as she continued on.
"Emily was smart enough to bring some of her funds from the Safe Room, which means we'll be able to stay at a local inn. We also have clothes suited for the climate, you'll find them in your room. I've already packed a bag for you. The objective is to discover what the Abbey is working on, how your return to humanity has affected the Whale Oil, and to wait for Corvo to find us."
I took a final bite, turning my nose at the empty tin. I couldn't believe people could enjoy canned foods: they all tasted like slimy salt.
"We'll discuss a more detailed plan of action once we've settled at an inn, I'm sure this is enough information to process for now." Callista finished, turning to store her notes away again before wearily rubbing her eyes. "Check your bag to see if we've packed whatever you need, I expect we arrive in 30 minutes. Any questions?"
Only 30 minutes… were we really that close already? I knew whales were fast swimmers, but had they really been able to speed up our travels that much? And more importantly, why did they want us to be here? I remembered the light I'd seen underwater, recalling how it had called to me, like they had done. I was almost certain they had tried to take me there, why had they now taken me here instead? Unless the two were somehow connected, but the chances of any light reaching Dunwall all the way from Samara were exactly zero.
Seeing as no one spoke up, Callista stood, pausing to turn to us a final time; "I'll be at the wheel if you need me." Her gaze darted between me and Emily, her perceptive stare a little too intrusive.
I quickly nodded in understanding, glad to be free of her all-knowing looks, but also dreading to be alone with Emily again. Maybe if I got up to follow right after Callista I could avoid having to look at her, or more importantly: speaking to her. The longer I could put off having to confront her, the better. Perhaps in a few days this would all blow over and she'd forget it'd ever happened and-
"Hey," tentative fingers touched my sleeve in an attempt to draw my attention, effectively raising my blood pressure to the point where my skull pounded with every heartbeat. "Could we talk?"
No. l really didn't want to. My hands turned clammy in an instant, my lungs' ability to function suddenly gone, leaving me dizzy and out of breath. "I'd rather not," I confessed, refusing to look at her, mournfully staring at the door Callista had just exited through instead.
"Listen, I know this must all be very confusing for you, and-"
"Please, just forget about it." I stood, quickly pulling away from her, trying to insert more distance between us — trying to fight that sickening twist of my stomach.
"Matvey, I-"
"Stop!" I took another step towards the door, scowling down at the worn floorboards, yearning so badly to leave, knowing she'd intervene if I tried, fully aware she wouldn't leave me alone until I gave in.
"No!" She countered, flying from her chair and towards me, circling around my frame and stopping between me and the door. I didn't even need to look up to read her expression, her glare bright enough to scald my skin, its burn further twisting up my insides. "You kissed me!" She poked an accusatory finger against my chest at every word. "You don't get to do that and then just run away!"
"I said I was sorry!" I growled, feeling that first familiar flicker of rage as anger flushed my skin red. But I wasn't really angry, was I? There was just so much hurt that clung to her presence. I could hardly bear to look at her anymore, the sight of her causing a painful ache in my chest and leaving me out of breath and weak.
"Why?" She spat, the question surprising me enough to make me want to look at her, my heart immediately plummeting as soon as I did. Her features were contorted with a look of pure indignation, her amber eyes flaring up violently. "You're okay with feeling me up every night but a stupid kiss is too much?"
"I-"
"You don't get to decide what does or does not pass for the both of us!" She interrupted me, heatedly gesturing between us, her hair dancing and bouncing with every exaggerated movement — reminding me of how good it had felt tangled up between my fingers...
"What are you even-"
"What if I wanted you to kiss me?" She continued yelling, her scowl deepening and her hands balling into fists.
Lies, all lies. I was momentarily stunned into silence, my heart beating in my throat and my stomach churning dangerously. I was starting to feel sick, my head spinning and my body shivering. "Well — you shouldn't!" I rebutted, but even I knew it was a meaningless argument to be made.
"Why not!" She took a step towards me, forcing me to move back. "All you do is make up excuses!" She pointed another finger at me as her other arm continued to gesture furiously, her cheeks reddening as she became increasingly frustrated. "You push me away every damn chance you get, but draw me back in right when it suits you!"
She had to be lying, I was certain she was. People were all the same, I had to remember that. "I do not!"
"First you blame it on my supposed curiosity, then it's because you think you're not human, then it's that you can't give me the bullshit you tell me I need — well guess what, I know you're not dying!"
"W-" I cut myself off, the temperature of the room dropping down to a cruel chill.
"That's right! I overheard you and Anton!" She sneered, narrowing her eyes at me. "So what's the problem this time?" Another step and I bumped into the table behind me.
She was chipping away all of my defences, robbing me of my ammunition. "Please, I really don't want to hurt you," I warned, trapped between her and Callista's cursed furniture.
"Well you are hurting me! Your empty promises hurt me! Your never-ending mood swings hurt me! Your inability to face up to your own actions hurts me!" She was ranting, her affronted tone transforming into something shrill and uncontrolled. "You always choosing to run away from every potential confrontation hurts me!"
Her words tore at the vulnerable tempest inside of me, laying bare every bitter flare of hurt she'd ignited. It was my turn to take a step forward, our noses inches from touching as I glared down at her, ready to aim my final shot. "Okay. Let me make it clear then: I. Don't. Want. You." I seethed, narrowing my eyes right back at her.
She just scowled at me in muted silence, her eyes the most vibrant colour I had ever witnessed, before she finally cocked her head nonchalantly. "Fine," she hissed, raising her chin at me, her amber stare burning into mine. "We'll see about that, Your Highness." There was a challenge hidden in her tone as she bent down in a mocking curtsy, her glowering gaze never leaving mine and her lips pulled into the mockery of a smile.
I remained silent, reeling from the argument, my pulse a deafening drum. I didn't move to stop her as she turned away from me, leaving me behind in the now eerily silent cabin, the echoes of our shouts still buzzing through my tender sinew. I had finally done it, hadn't I? I had finally stepped up and ended this strange dance of reprehensible desire — this sure-fire road towards condemnation. I had let her go — no, forced her away — because I loved her.
But then… why did I feel so disconsolately empty?
I stormed into my room, slamming the door in petty anger, cursing the damn bed for all it had come to represent. My eyes found the stack of drawings and my hands immediately reached for them, not thinking twice about tearing up every single cursed image, my eyes watching my mother's face as I ripped her apart piece by piece. I scattered the fragments, threw away those useless memories, kicked at their existence.
Why?
My gaze locked onto the book Emily had been reading, deciding to pick that up as well and toss it at the wall, its pages sent flying around the room. Nothing relieved me of the suffocating weight that pushed down on me, the rage and frustration I felt too unmanageable to be contained within my useless skin. All of my senses were fried from the emotional overload she had caused me.
Why?
I dropped down into the mess I'd created, my knees grinding against the rough floor-boards, the sharp wood cutting into my skin. The physical pain was almost euphoric, the only distraction the world offered me from my ridiculous psyche. My gaze traced every snippet of paper, following them until it landed on something I hadn't expected to see again; my old boots. She must have found them, too. I longed to be angry so desperately, to hate her and to cast her aside as easily as I had everyone else. But…
Why me?
"My father never could stop himself from talking about Tyvia. He'd always insisted I go and taste its rich pears and wines for myself — not the imported garbage we dared call 'Tyvian'." Callista walked in front of us, a large bag slung across her shoulder, her warm boots plowing through the heavy layers of snow. "Its darkness however… that was something he never seemed too eager to talk about — do you remember what I taught you about Tyvian darkness, Violet?"
Emily walked behind me, her gaze burning holes into my back. "It lasts 5 months," she offered, her detached voice betraying her disinterest in the topic.
"6," I corrected on impulse, earning myself a look of surprise from Callista, causing me to shift the bag I carried self-consciously.
Samara was wrapped in darkness, its streets lighted only by strategically placed lanterns, small flames flickering in their glass containers. I had quickly discovered it'd been early in the morning when we arrived, the townsfolk still in the process of waking up. As the Outsider, I had never paid close attention to this town in particular. Wrapped in darkness for half of the year, it made for a hardly interesting watch. But now that I walked the cobblestone streets, each and every building designed with exceptional care and decorated in an ornately fashion, I couldn't help but be impressed. The people all looked the same; dark hair, pale skin and thick coats, most heads covered in fur-lined hats. Passing through the morning-crowd, I realised I recognised none of them. For the first time, not a single memory of a life lived popped into my mind at the sight of a person. They were just that: a person — someone I had never met and didn't know a thing about. It was refreshing, to be blind like this. For once I felt truly alone in my own mind.
"According to the signs there should be an inn around here…" Callista squinted, the darkness making it exceptionally hard to spot what we were looking for.
I honestly didn't know this time, allowing myself to slowly drift away from our little group, my eyes eagerly drinking up every detail of our foreign surroundings. The city smelled of smoke and freshly baked bread, its scent wafting around every snow-covered corner. The candlelight illuminated the rows of icicles that clung to the high roofs, causing them to glow like pointed crystals. The houses were all constructed of wood, unlike Dunwall. The eaves and window-frames carefully decorated by openwork tracery, every single building entirely unique.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" A man stepped up, having noticed Callista's searching looks. He was covered from head to toe, a scarf and hat concealing everything but his oddly bright, blue eyes.
Callista's first instinct was to glance around her, quickly checking to see if both me and Emily were still around. Tucking some stray hairs behind her ear, she turned towards the stranger. "Yes, please, if you could." She was as gracious as ever, accepting the offer with practiced politeness. "We're looking for the nearest inn, if you could help us find our way?"
Emily joined the two, observing the stranger curiously, her casual hairstyle and simple jacket making her appear like a completely different person. I watched them from the corner of my eye, feigning disinterest as I softly kicked the snow around, covering my boot in white powder.
"Yes, of course! Why don't I take you there? It's just around the corner," the man offered with a shrug, his eyes crinkling with what was mostly likely a smile.
"Thank you," Callista bowed her head at the man in gratitude, before turning to me with a slight frown, eyes drawn to my snow-covered boots. "Are you coming?" She asked, her tone pressing enough to let me in on her annoyance at my distance, urging me to stay closer.
I let out a huff of breath, smoky tendrils passing my cheeks as I caught up to them, mindfully avoiding walking too close to Emily. However it seemed she paid no more attention to me, instead fully focused on our helpful guide. I narrowed my eyes at him, annoyed at his cheery attitude.
"I'm Artur, by the way." He turned his head, his eyes darting between the three of us.
"My name is Nora, and these are my son Matvey and our friend Violet." Callista introduced each of us.
"Nice to meet you," Artur offered us all a handshake, which I blankly refused, causing him to pause awkwardly before quickly turning back to Callista. "So what brings you here?"
"My late-husband… he was Tyvian," Callista breathed, staring off into the distance as we walked. We passed by several buildings, their small panelled windows reflecting our little group, my gaze drawn to my own unsettling image. "I've been wanting to show my son the lights of Samara, my husband had always recalled them with such fondness."
"I'm sorry for your loss…" Artur consoled her, her convincing act effectively calling upon his obviously naive sense of sympathy. "You still appear very young, it's good to see you're not bound by your grief," he complimented, earning a quick 'thank you' from Callista. "And the two of you…?" His eyes darted suggestively between Emily and I.
"No-" I quickly denied the assumption, only to be interrupted by Emily.
"Don't mind him, he's a bit shy around strangers," she giggled, turning to me, the hint of a smirk twisting her lips. "Aren't you, honey?" one of her arms looped around mine, a hand resting atop my elbow, her hip digging into my side.
Blood rushed towards my face, the tips of my ears burning as I shot her a spiteful glare, daring her to say another word.
"It's alright," Artur laughed, sending another eye-crinkle at the both of us, "I'd be shy too if a beauty such as yourself were on my arm."
Emily visibly flushed at the words, a demure smile curling her lips, her eyes darting to the ground. I scowled at the two of them, catching the disapproving look Callista shot Emily at her disobedience. We rounded the corner, revealing another row of wooden homes and other buildings. A few windows were lit by candle-light, revealing the interior of some. We passed several more before Artur stopped, turning towards us.
"Well, here it is." He gestured at another lavishly decorated building, detailed woodwork covering every inch. "A bit old-fashioned, but cosy — I promise." He playfully raised his hands in defence.
"Thank you kindly for your help," Callista smiled at him. "If there's any way we can repay you…"
He waved a hand at her as he let out an amused laugh. "No, that won't be necessary, it's been my pleasure."
"It's been nice meeting you," Emily added quickly, smiling at the man she had known for how long now? Five minutes?
He dared a glance at me, quickly averting his eyes again when confronted with my unamused stare. I was more than happy to see him go, but when he was about to walk away he appeared to change his mind, instantly turning back to Callista. "Oh, now that I think of it," he started, his gloved hand darting into one of his pockets, rummaging through his puffy coat until he pulled out a stack of pamphlets. "I'm in the organisation of Samara's Winter festival, I'd love it if the three of you were willing to join the local festivities." He handed each of us a piece of paper filled with elaborately illustrated words and pictures, accompanied by another eye-crinkling smile. "It's definitely not the same now that we no longer have our electricity, but here in Tyvia we're used to worse."
"Thank you, we'll definitely think about it," Callista smiled politely, carefully storing away the pamphlet.
"Great!" He rocked on his heels, gaze darting between the three of us. "Well, see you around, then!" He waved a final time, retreating at last, his gaze drawn to us a few more times as he walked away. I watched him go, his coat and hat making him blend in with the small crowd of people, until he soon became indistinguishable from the rest.
"People are so nice here," Emily noted as her gaze remained fixed on the direction Artur had gone, her arms still looped in mine.
I took the opportunity to retrieve my limb, hastily pulling away from her as soon as the coast was clear. "They won't be so nice once they find out who you are," I grumbled, annoyed as I dramatically dusted off my sleeve.
Callista stepped in, resting a hand on Emily's shoulder, an urgent look on her face as she leaned closer. "No more improvising, Lady Emily, it's dangerous to stray away from the plan," she whispered, eyes darting between me and her former pupil.
"Lighten up, Nora." Emily side passed the concerned woman, headed for the door of the inn, throwing a mischievous smirk over her shoulder. "If anything, I did us a favour, what with all the blatantly jealous stares going around." Her pointed gaze found me as she pushed the door open, quickly ducking inside.
"Hey! I-" The door closed on us before I could finish, leaving me in a slightly disgruntled mood. I glared at the door, balling my fists and-
"I don't know what the Void is going on between the two of you, but you better get your act together if you plan on surviving here," Callista scolded me, her hands firmly planted on her hips, lips pulled into a disapproving frown.
I turned to scowl at my feet, feeling the blood rush to my face again, anger raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I had hoped pushing her away would make her want nothing to do with me, but instead it had only served to make her more persistent.
Stubborn, like she'd always been.
"Well, come on." Callista moved to hold open the door for me, gesturing for me to enter first. I quickly forced the thoughts from my mind, urging myself to keep my cool — even if Emily tried her best to make me lose it. Her eyes followed me as I passed her, but she was nice enough not to comment any further, which shouldn't come as a surprise to me; Callista had always been exceptionally good at minding her own business.
The warmth of the inn hit me as soon as I stepped inside, washing away the cold that had soaked into my skin, soon making me want to take off my coat to relieve myself of the sudden heat. The interior was old-fashioned, like Artur had mentioned, carved out of rich mahogany and decorated with both pelts and detailed plaids. Ornaments were scattered all around the space, from wooden objects decorated with paint to framed illustrations and intricate clocks. A large fireplace heated the room, its crackling flames casting a warm light across rich multi coloured carpets. There were several chairs and a single couch set up around it, a basket full of newspapers and other books nearby. There was a large staircase right ahead, its steps covered with a worn-down rug.
I spotted Emily at a wooden desk that stood at the back of the room, her bag at her feet. "There you are!" She called, "I was just telling this wonderful lady all about you!"
I directed my gaze past her, spotting an old woman that looked well in her sixties, her shoulders wrapped in an elaborate shawl and her eyes framed by a pair of half moon glasses.
"My, he's quite the catch, isn't he?" The old lady smiled at me, the wrinkled skin surrounding her eyes creasing even further at the expression.
I walked up to the both of them, followed by a silent Callista. I eyed the two smiling women suspiciously, already distrustful of the amused look on Emily's face.
"I was telling her about the first time we met," she grinned, casually leaning an elbow on the desk. "Do you still remember? I was 10, you were 15." She fluttered her lashes at me, raising her eyebrows in question.
I stopped next to her, leaning against the desk as well, attempting to assess her intentions as my apprehensive gaze roamed her schooled features. "I do," I admitted. "You walked into my home without invitation and wouldn't stop crying." The smugness had started to fade from her smile, her chin slowly inching higher in challenge, but I continued before she could speak. "Did you book any rooms yet?" I glanced at the old lady who's welcoming grin had been replaced by a look of mild confusion.
"I did," Emily smiled sweetly, "the honeymoon suite."
No way she had — she couldn't possibly be serious. "Really now?" I cocked my head, clenching my jaw. "Last I checked we weren't married yet, sweetie," I spoke through gritted teeth, the words dripping with poison, eliciting an amused smirk from the girl next to me. Two could play that game, if she thought I'd let her win that easily she'd be sorely mistaken. I directed a charming grin towards the elderly woman, hoping she was as old-fashioned as she appeared, leaning in to make sure her old ears would hear. "Don't worry," I assured her, my voice dark and husky — a surprisingly easy feat for me, "we haven't fucked before the sacred matrimony if that's what you're worrying about." The woman's eyes widened, her face visibly blanching. "We live by the strictures." I raised my hand, showing her my crossed fingers before turning back to a stunned Emily, the former Empress narrowing her eyes at me as I spoke the last part to her; "May the Abbey bless our souls."
"Oh," the old woman exclaimed, her mouth slightly agape, "well..." she paused, rubbing her cheek with one hand before shaking her head, the colour slowly returning to her features. "Who am I to judge the lives of ones so young?" She laughed, reaching for Emily's hand and placing a set of keys in her palm. "Here you go, dear," she smiled warmly, wrapping her fingers around the limb before winking at her. "He's a feisty one, that fiancé of yours."
I sourly watched as the smugness was quick to take over Emily's features again, that infuriating grin back in its place. "Why thank you, Nadia." She squeezed the woman's hand. "I know he's still a little rough around the edges, but it's nothing a good woman cannot fix."
"Oh, I'm sure about that!" Nadia giggled, her cheery eyes almost disappearing between folds of wrinkled skin.
Callista stepped in between us, bringing an end to the theatrics, her face as serious as always. "I'd also like a room. Single, please," she requested, not turning to look at either of us.
"Ah, yes, of course!" Nadia quickly reached for another key, handing it over to the stern woman. "What name may I write down?" She asked, that same welcoming smile she'd first offered me back in place.
"Nora Edwards."
"Oh, family, I see — sister?"
Callista raised an eyebrow, accepting the key from the elder. "Mother," she corrected, adjusting her bag before turning towards the nearby staircase. "I assume the rooms are up here?"
"Yes!" Nadia quickly nodded, adding: "Numbers are on the keys."
Callista continued up the stairs after a quick 'thank you', leaving us behind without a further word.
Emily's gaze darted between the older woman and Callista before quickly excusing herself, lifting her bag off the floor and hurrying after her former teacher. I didn't spare the elder another glance, following behind the others without a word, trying to think of ways to get the upper-hand in our current situation.
"Nora?" Emily called after Callista as she climbed the stairs, her bag slinging from one side to the other.
Callista slowed, throwing her old student a short glance. "Whatever the two of you are doing, I want nothing to do with it," she clarified, obviously annoyed at what had just happened. "I will be seeing the both of you in my room in an hour. Number 201." She didn't wait for Emily or I to respond, continuing her way up shortly after.
Emily stilled, eyes trailing after her former teacher. I stopped beside her, shooting her a curious glance, noticing she showed barely any reaction to Callista's words. Instead she parted her lips, clicking her tongue before commenting. "Your mother seems upset."
I frowned, somewhat taken aback by her careless attitude, starting to wonder if perhaps her stay in prison had affected her more than she liked to let on.
"Well, let's go," she turned, wrapping her hand around mine and intertwining our fingers, "I can't wait to see our room."
She dragged me up the stairs before I could comment, the way she held onto my hand making me highly uncomfortable — was that her thumb stroking my skin? As soon as we rounded the corner, the both of us out of sight, I quickly pulled free, distancing myself from her once more. I wanted to tell her to stop, to quit this nonsense of hers. If people found out about our act, especially in Tyvia, we'd be in the sort of trouble not even I could get us out of. She read the numbers on the door, silently mouthing along as she searched for ours, her other hand holding up the key she'd been given. I knew I'd have to wait, there was no way I was going to draw unnecessary attention to the both of us. A couple passed us, their arms linked and their shoulders connected. They greeted us, earning themselves a happy smile from the former Empress. I narrowed my eyes at her, unable to figure out why she was behaving like this.
"Here it is!" She exclaimed, shooting me a self-satisfied smile that further fuelled my chagrin. She quickly inserted the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, her other hand softly pushing against the wood. It creaked in its hinges, slowly swinging open and revealing a cosy room full of decorative pleads and wooden trinkets. Emily stepped inside, her eyes wide with wonder, the hints of a genuine smile on her lips. "This looks like a fairytale..." she breathed, circling around to get a view of every little detail; from hand-carved wood to intricately sewn curtains and carpets. There was a bed directly next to the door, flanked by two wooden cabinets topped with a set of candles. Tyvia had adjusted better to the lack of electricity than Dunwall had, but in a way that made sense for a country that had dealt with long periods of darkness for centuries.
"If a fairytale means not updating your furniture for a 100 years, then yes, it does," I deadpanned, slowly following her inside.
She ignored me as she dumped her bag and coat onto the bed, soon dropping down next to it, the thick spreads that covered it dipping beneath her weight. I looked away from her, quickly banishing any thoughts of her or the bed before they could take shape. Instead I was drawn to a small painting at the opposite side of the room, my feet carrying me there without further thought. It was a purple flower, small and fragile, its green stem sprouting from a thick layer of snow. I stared at it, feeling a shift in time as the world around me had started to bend, its colours blending and warping together. There was a ring in my ears, both my toes and fingers consumed by a terrible burn — the sting of cold, the bite of death.
"It says here the festival lasts an entire month!" I was dragged back into reality by the sound of Emily's voice, the cold sweat that had covered my skin causing me to shiver. "I can't believe how free everything is here..."
I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands, trying to banish the sudden wave of dizziness. "That's what they want you to think," I remarked dryly, feeling my heartbeat slowly return to normal. "You haven't seen the prison camps yet." There was a small couch on the left side of the room, covered in more knitted spreads and cushions. I turned towards it, slipping my bag from my shoulders and placing it on one of the corners along with my coat, dropping myself down next to it.
"You're not going to sleep on the couch, are you?"
I allowed my head to lean back against the wall behind me, closing my eyes as I fought the urge to want to get away from her, aware I had nowhere to go right now. "Was it wrong of me to assume you claimed the bed?"
The bed creaked as she moved, the thick sheets rustling with every motion. "So? Sharing wasn't a problem before." She was moving closer.
"That was befo-"
"Before what?" She stood directly in front of me now, her tone dripping with annoyance. "Before you kissed me?"
I opened my eyes, frowning at her as she stood with her arms crossed, her angry gaze sharp and demanding. The same nerves that had plagued me in the cabin of Callista's ship returned full-force, making me want to disappear, anything to get away from those eyes.
"Tell me, Matvey," she continued heatedly, her skin starting to flush, "what was it about that kiss that scares you so much?"
My frown deepened into a scowl, my fingers wrapping around the ritual rings on my other hand, their cold touch soothing me. "I'm not."
"Not what? Scared?" She questioned, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. "Then do it again," she challenged, cocking her head.
"I'm not a courtesan."
"Neither am I, yet I get pushed to the side like one."
"Stop," I hissed angrily, straightening my back, slightly raising myself towards her.
"Kiss me." She lowered herself, putting her hands on my legs, her fingers digging into the fabric of my pants, trapping me in place.
"I'm not here to play your silly little games!" I growled, feeling my heartbeat pick up at her touch, that familiar heat spreading through my limbs again as my gaze briefly darted to her lips.
"Neither was I, yet there you were," she raised her eyebrows, her eyes flitting across my face, lingering on my mouth before meeting my gaze again. "And I'm not stopping until you admit it."
"Admit what?" I felt my breath hitch, knowing exactly what she meant but honestly not wanting to discuss any of this in the first place.
She leaned in, stopping only inches from my face, her lips hovering above mine — igniting that desperate craving inside of me that wished for her to close the distance, an uncontrolled heat burning just beneath my skin. "That you do want me," she whispered seductively, her warm breath caressing my skin, her eyes growing darker. I felt my control start to slip, my mind growing hazier, hungrier, my senses overpowered by the ache she reawakened. I allowed my eyes to travel to her lips again, following their gentle curve, longing to-
I forced her to move away as I abruptly rose to my feet, distancing myself from her, fighting to regain my rationality. I shook my head, my hands pulling at my hair, trying to expel the memory of her taste. "Emily, you've lost your throne, your empire is in financial and industrial decay, and the Abbey is probably going to destroy whatever balance between this world and the Void remains…" I pleaded, knowing it was more to myself than her.
"I'm just hearing more excuses." She remained unwavering, her hands on her hips as her eyes never left me, her stare going straight through me and leaving me feeling more naked than ever.
I opened and closed my mouth several times, wanting to say something, grappling for words as my gaze darted across the room, my arms wrapping around myself. She didn't try to interrupt as I wracked my brain for something, anything, a strange numbness spreading through me as I reached for the most compelling thing I could remember. "Aren't you the one who said whatever you felt was wasted in a dying world?" I accused, the words sharp and meant to sting.
Surprise took over her features as she heard the words she had spoken to me, and I realised everything felt so different now — I felt so different. She shook her head, a pitiful smile pulling at her lips as she shrugged. "Maybe I was wrong?" She took a step towards me, her pleading gaze fighting to reason with me. "Maybe the true waste is to not allow yourself to feel at all…"
My reality shifted at her words, everything I had told myself to believe in, everything I had known, deconstructed by a single sentence. I drew a shuddery breath, feeling my feet move as they started to carry me away from her, back towards the door. The water had started rising again, filling my lungs and flushing away my breath, making me drown in my own thoughts. I turned, and she didn't attempt to stop me as I twisted the knob, knowing there'd be no coming back to this moment if I left. I paused in the doorway, fighting to breathe deeply as I tried to make sense of my feelings — all too soon realising feelings rarely made sense at all.
"You're a coward, do you know that?" I heard her ask, a hint of disappointment in her tone.
I didn't move, my hand still holding the door. My eyes traced the veins and arteries that pulsed beneath my skin, my blood the same colour as hers, as Callista's, as Corvo's. I lifted my head, looking back at her, watching her as she stood at the center of the room, her shoulders straight and her chin raised stubbornly, still.
That's what happens in your presence after all, isn't it?
"To be afraid…" I started, my gaze drifting towards the painting behind her, tracing the delicate flower amongst a sea of white, "is to be human." I took another step, out into the hallway, away from her, closing the door behind me as I let out a fragile breath, closing my eyes as I shut her out… again.