The night air I breathed was thin, supplying me with sparse amounts of oxygen. The city had gone to sleep already, and I knew no good people stayed up past this hour. We stood at the window of the Chamber of Commerce, silently looking out over the Flooded District. Within these ruins, Daud had raised his army of assassins, readied them to take out a lover—a mother. An Empress. Billie Lurk stood beside me, a low sizzle emanating from her Void arm. Like the creak of old bones.
Magic.
We'd be headed back to the tower, back to the warm shelter with its clean air. My lungs had almost gotten used to the putrid smell that seemed to cling to everything in this area. Almost. I glanced at the woman next to me, the one who'd spared my life. The years had been etched into her skin—all lines and scars. They melted into a steady pattern, a story to be told.
"Come with us." I heard myself say the words before I had known they'd been on my mind.
She sent me a strange look, one eye tracking my face "I couldn't." Her voice was lost to thin air, small and transient.
I tilted my head, feeling a frown tug at my lips.
Corvo interrupted. "We're housing the Outsider, what harm could one more heretical houseguest do?" he asked, gaze darting between Billie's eye and arm as he paused. "Besides, we need allies like you."
I could see the ghost of a smirk cross her lips, eye turning towards the city that slept before us. A slight breeze rustled our clothes, and I couldn't help the shiver that ran down my body. Of course I knew Billie's answer before she vocalised the decision, her explanation of what happened offering a clearer perspective to what I'd seen in my visions. Letting out a weary sigh, she hung her head before regarding us both with a wry look.
"Alright, I'll help you out. You babies couldn't make it back home without me anyway."
Corvo made an odd noise, but I was certain it was supposed to be something more akin to a chuckle.
I felt safer knowing Lurk would join us, the magic she still possessed the only familiarity in my current charade of a life. It also helped to know that we'd need her—somehow, someday. I wasn't sure why, yet, but my premonitions had never been anything short of vague and incongruous.
After packing what little possessions she owned, a familiar piece of paper sticking out between a bunch of meaningless folders, Billie signalled for us to go. Corvo and I did not bother to don our masks this time, knowing Lurk would stick to the shadows in watchful silence. The haunting trip through the Flooded District, or Rudshore Financial District as it had once been called, didn't feel as tedious as it had on the way down. We arrived at the boat shortly, my elbows bearing a few fresh scrapes. The tiny ship was a bit cramped, obviously not designed for more than two people. We managed to make it work nonetheless—if not without a few pairs of sore knees and cramped legs. I watched the Hound Pits Pub fade as we left it behind, its skeletal remains drawing a pattern of jagged lines against the starry sky.
15 years, and now here I was.
I was thankful for Lurk's assistance, her abilities meant I didn't need to climb the walls like Corvo did. Her Void arm was securely wrapped around me as we moved from one elevated surface to another. I could feel the crackle of magic sizzling through my clothes, lapping up my skin with its pinpricks. It warmed me, a pleasant hum traveling through the parts where it connected to my body. By the time we entered the familiar comfort of my room, I saw the subtle flicker of sunlight on the horizon. It'd be morning soon, and I felt the heavy fog of missed sleep filling my ears and mind with static.
"You two can both stay here for now, catch some sleep first. I'll have to figure out how and where to safely keep you in the tower before anything else." He directed an apologising look at Billie, to which the former assassin nodded in quiet understanding.
I noticed the ways in which the wallpaper danced around my vision, merging together with the surrounding wood. I was exhausted. I didn't pay the other occupants of my room any further attention, making my way towards the bed, my worn out knees almost buckling on their own. The soft mattress broke my fall, and my eyes started to roll back—I knew staying conscious right now would be an unlikely accomplishment.
The worldly noise around me started to fade, ears filling with nothing but the lullabies I'd grown accustomed to, body sinking away from me.
"Move over." Lurk's voice broke through my steady descent, and it took a few seconds before her words registered.
"I'm not sharing." Her request had effectively wiped all sleep from my mind.
Billlie huffed, her good eyebrow pulled into a scowl. "You spoil easily, Poutsider ," she jabbed. "Now scoot."
I glared at the woman, annoyed at her persistence. I used the moment of clarity to kick off my shoes, moving all the way to the far end of the bed. I watched with weary eyes as she shed her outer layers, moving to lay beneath the blankets, pointedly ignoring my watchful gaze. I could feel the tiny shift that traveled through the down-filled spread with every breath she took, acutely aware of her cogent ability to drive me nuts within mere seconds. I clenched my eyes shut, attempting to ignore the subtle pounding of her heart and rhythmic in- and exhalations. I tried to listen to the whales instead, the distant songs that never ceased.
"How'd you get here?" I heard her ask from beside me, red eye emitting a faint glow, reflecting off the silken tapestries.
I chose to ignore the question, not in the mood for small talk. At least, until I felt a cold foot connect with my calve, the impact almost sending me over the literal edge.
"I was found," I snapped, sending her an annoyed look which left her visibly unimpressed.
I really did not want to talk right now, and I had the urge to walk away again. Of course that meant leaving the warmth of the comfortable bed, and my tired limbs probably wouldn't stand for such a thing. I was grateful when Lurk didn't respond, and relieved that she did not attempt any further questions. Her breathing was still as steady and soft as it had been before, blankets rippling in slow waves. I turned to my side and away from her, burying my face into my pillow and clenching my eyes shut in hopes of falling asleep. The actual thought of having to share my bed with none other than the red-eyed assassin who'd set out to murder me was a humiliating one.
Firstly because she was a woman, and I felt exposed, and secondly because I'd helped her on her merry way towards my own slaughter. The comfort her magic had previously brought me didn't outweigh the discomfort the sound of her constant breathing put me in, each inhalation a reminder of her presence, lingering next to my vulnerable and soon to be unaware form. No. Sleep. I needed to sleep now. Lurk wasn't going to hurt me, the suspicion itself was silly and senseless. I'd asked her to come, she'd spared me and taken me in. She wasn't my enemy, I would do well to remember that. So I turned my thoughts to whales instead, to deep slumbering seas and waves of endless amber—and at last, the quietude of sleep took me in again.
When the Empress had amusedly told me I'd been hormonal, I hadn't given it too much thought. I'd disquietly accepted the matter as yet another bump in the road of becoming human. But now I found that metaphorical bump had become embarrassingly corporeal, a galling heat creeping up my tense back as I became more aware of the problem with each passing heartbeat. Said heart pounded wave after wave of blood through my sensitive ears. I had been keen to notice the small changes time and a proper diet had brought me, but this newest development was an unwelcome side-effect.
I had balled up as much as I could, pulling my knees to my chest and stubbornly keeping my back turned towards the woman next to me. I knew she was waking, I could hear the changes in her bodily rhythms. I kept my eyes closed, waiting for it to be over. I froze when I heard her stir, muscles involuntarily tensing up. She took in her surroundings first, and I could feel the prickle of her magical gaze as it turned to look at my form. She stood, stretching her muscles. It wasn't long until she started moving, my panic increasing with each firm step she took—undoubtedly headed in my direction. I kept my eyes closed in hopes she'd leave me alone. She didn't—of course.
"Rise and shine beautiful!"
I was surprised by the cold air as it nipped at my skin, my last measure of preserved dignity ripped away from me. I reacted instantly and entirely on instinct, allowing myself to roll out of bed with as much uncontrolled force possible, knocking the unsuspecting woman off her agile feet.
"Hey!" I heard her exclaim in surprise as she caught herself on a nearby dresser.
I ignored her and wisely used the moment to sprint towards the bathroom, throwing the door shut behind me and leaning against it as I tried to catch my breath.
I could hear her muffled voice through the wood. "Fuck's your problem?"
I tried my best to calm my racing heart, feeling my sweaty palms slip against the wood. My blood burned like fire, body feeling unnaturally hot—too hot for all these clothes that clung to my damp skin. I shed all articles of suffocating fabric, body cooling down . I longed for a cold shower, bare feet patting across the room.
My hands shot up towards the faucets, turning them, pale fingers wrapping around the smooth material. As soon as the cold water hit my back I could feel my blood cool, the trailing droplets caressing and soothing my smouldering skin. My heart slowed and I felt my mind clearing. When I'd been sacrificed I'd been an underfed 15 year old boy who'd had to beg for scraps. My mind had been occupied only by the most basic of needs; survival. Only after death had I had the time to ponder the other unreachable possibilities of humanity.
These kind of wanton desires were dangerous, and I hated the inability to control the cravings of my own body. The biggest danger lay in the knowledge that giving in to these urges would probably feel good. But feeling good rarely equated to thinking smart. Now that my mind had been cleared I took my time to wash up, chancing another attempt at shaving. Each small gesture and action had improved the dexterity of my hands and fingers, they were nowhere near practised—but the increase of control with which my limbs moved was pleasant. I wrapped myself in the towel I'd used, suddenly aware that my change of wardrobe was stored in the other room.
When I opened the door I was surprised by the forceful hands that tore me back into the bedroom, the form of Billie Lurk shooting past me and shutting the door behind her with a loud bang.
"Been needing to piss for over half an hour!" I could hear her cuss from the other side. Then, after the lavatory had been flushed; "Hot water better not be gone!" A dangerous warning in her tone.
I ignored the fussing woman and went to dress myself, noticing the perfectly made bed and carefully folded package of fresh clothing. I glanced back at the door, hearing the water splash against the tiles.
"I cannot believe this!" the Empress hissed, slamming down the paper on the table before us, slumping back in her chair.
We all sat gathered in the dining room, seated at a wooden table. Lurk's eye and arm had been covered up by a set of bandages, supplied by the middle-ages menace named Corvo. I eyed the headline curiously, bold letters pressed onto thin paper. 'EMPRESS EMILY KALDWIN AND HER FOREIGN AFFAIRS.' It was a nice play on words, I had to give them that.
"Damn..." I could hear Lurk utter, eye searching the article, shooting up to glance between me and the Empress.
"They'll write anything if it gets them coin," Corvo grumbled, clearly displeased with the newest rumour that now circulated all of the isles. "They have nothing to back this up."
"Yes, but you know how gullible the people are father," the Empress complained, the Crown Killer debacle still fresh on everyone's mind.
"'Lady Emily takes after her late mother as rumours of yet another exotic love affair within the walls of Dunwall Tower emerge, signalling an end to the Morley romance that previously brought union to the squabbling Isles'," Billie snorted, clearly amused with the article. "Is that why you took that cold shower huh, kid?"
I choked on my food, shoulders shooting up in a knee-jerk reaction at the words. I swallowed carefully, eyes darting between the curious gazes that had now been pointed at me. I could feel the blood rising to my face, cheeks burning, much to my chagrin. I turned to glare at Lurk, her nonchalant smirk the final nail in her proverbial coffin. I was about to protest when the Empress cut in, drawing the attention back to her.
"Let's try and focus on more important matters." She sternly eyed the three of us, squinting at her father who's gaze was still locked onto me. "Father?" The Empress lowered her head in an attempt to draw in his attention, unsuccessfully so.
"Give him a break, old man." Billie glared at Corvo, finally convincing him to look away. He huffed, turning to his neglected breakfast instead as his eyes continued to dart towards my face every now and again.
"So what's our plan?" the Empress continued. Everyone remained silent, the sounds of silverware scratching against porcelain momentarily halted. The Empress rubbed her temple, glaring at the messy stack of papers that sat on the table. "Assuming the knife has drained your magic, what would our best course of action be?" She turned back to me, eyes boring into mine. A hint of pink dusted her cheeks and… had she been flustered too?
"There's only two options..." I started, a slight crack to my voice. "Either we learn more about the origins that enabled the knife and cultists to create me, or I die."
"That doesn't sound like two options, since the first isn't even a guarantee that you'll live." She sounded annoyed.
I shrugged, a very noncommittal act for someone in my predicament, I realised.
"Sokolov's working on an elixir, that might help," she offered.
I shook my head, gaze still locked onto hers. "It's stalling the inevitable."
"It's time," the Empress countered, narrowing her eyes. "At least for now." She turned to Billie. "The Eyeless, they would know more, would they not?"
A grim look passed Billie's features. "There's a library at their headquarters. Contained all sorts of knowledge. Could be our best shot."
The Empress nodded, brows pinched together. "We'll have to go there," she glanced at the paperwork, "but I can't leave the Empire in its current state, and to be frank, I won't have the Outsider stumbling around the headquarters of a dangerous cult set on murdering him." She shot me an appraising look.
"What are you saying Emily?" Corvo's low voice questioned.
"I'm saying that I'll need my Royal Spymaster to look into this." She directed a look at Billie. "You'll go with him, your knowledge is valuable—as well as your magical abilities."
"I'm not leaving you here!" Corvo snapped, sending me an angry look. "And especially not after those rumours."
"Father, I'll take care of it." The Empress caught Corvo's gaze, both eying each other in silence before the latter looked away. "Give me four days to prepare, I'm booked right now, so I won't be able to work any faster," she spoke as she pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes shut for a moment.
"What will you be doing in the meantime?" the Royal Protector asked the Empress.
She sent him an exasperated look. "I will be taking care of the scheduled meetings regarding the whale oil problem as we try to prevent the Empire from falling into complete disarray."
Billie seemed amused.
"And you?" Corvo now turned to me, brows raised in question. I sat back in my chair at the inquiry, gaze darting between the faces that surrounded me.
"He'll continue to be Sokolov's patient, if there's anyone who can understand the workings of his body then it's Anton. Plus, he'll be around to help me solve the current crisis, whilst I'll train him—as we agreed." The Empress sent her father a daring look.
"That was before the news of your illicit affair arose," Corvo spat, shoulders squared. "And what of the Eyeless? What if they come for him?"
I was the only one in the room who knew for certain the Eyeless would be the least of our worries for now.
"We'll be fine, Father," she said crossly. "No one knows his true identity and no one expects the Outsider to live within Dunwall Tower of all places. As far as we know the Eyeless think him dead. Besides, I've always been perfectly fine without magic, and I'll be perfectly fine now." I knew this ran deeper than the Empress was letting on. There was a bitter undertone to her belligerent voice. "I have another meeting to attend in a few, so we'll have to wrap this up quick." She forced the conversation forward, moving some papers around without looking at her father again. I watched her slender fingers wrap around the documents with care, noted her carefully looked after nails; polished to perfection.
"Oy." I heard Billie call out to me, elbow nudging my side. I was quick to look away, meeting the former assassin's eyes with an annoyed glare of my own. "The Empress just asked you a question."
"What?" My gaze darted between the Empress and Lurk, surprised I'd missed anything.
"I'll be expecting you at the library at four. Do you think you'll make it?" She arched a brow, both eyes dancing between mine. Four in the afternoon. What time was it now? I realised I didn't exactly know how to read clocks. I'd never bothered to. Could I get away with a gamble? Most likely not. Four was very specific. Then again, Corvo's 'eleven' had also been specific but I'd shown up far earlier, which had worked out regardless. But what if I'd be late?
Another jab to my side by Lurk, which earned her another angry scowl from me. "Yes," I complied. I'd figure it out.
"Alright—Father, you know what to do. Billie?" She checked with the woman.
"Yes, your Majesty," she confirmed. For a moment I wondered what she'd be doing, exactly. Corvo would take care of her stay here, he'd probably forge some more papers, appoint her a job within the tower. She'd get her own room, I hoped.
"Then we're done here," the Empress concluded, writing down a few things and carefully stacking the papers. I looked at my empty plate. What now? I heard the chairs scrape across the wooden floor as both Corvo and Billie stood, off to transform her back into Meagan Foster, the captain. I could feel the way Corvo's watchful gaze scrutinised my form, increasingly wary of me. He'd probably suspect someone might have witnessed something meaningful, which I knew to be untrue. I knew exactly who'd been responsible for the article, and why.
"Are you alright?" The Empress's soft tone surprised me. I glanced her way, her facial features betraying nothing of her thoughts.
"Yes," I replied as I stood from my chair, uncomfortable. My gaze burned into the floor as I turned to leave, following Corvo and Billie out the room. The two sent me a surprised look when I passed them without saying anything, headed towards my own destination. I'd learned to recognise certain checkpoints within the tower, paintings and statues that were unique to a particular area. I'd found that it made navigation much more bearable. It took me a long time to find what I was looking for, but when my eyes struck a familiar fireplace, I knew I was headed in the right direction. Following the distant echoes that traveled through rusted piping, I made my way to the one person I knew I could ask for help on this matter—at least, without feeling like a blustering idiot. When I entered his room, he was quick to notice me, surprise shaping his features.
"I can't read clocks," I blurted at Sokolov.
It didn't take me long to learn, and lucky for me Sokolov was a patient teacher. A silence fell between us as soon as we finished, both wary of the other.
"Back when you lived," the physician started, "how did the people measure time?"
I observed the elder next to me, his gaze never fully meeting mine, and decided I could indulge his question, if only out of gratefulness for the knowledge he'd passed to me.
"We used the outflow of water," I explained, finding it hard to focus my gaze on anything in particular. "A container marked with lines would be filled with water to indicate the hours as the outflow caused the water level to drop as time passed."
Sokolov nodded before changing the subject, a hint of curiosity mixing with his scratching voice. "I read some interesting news in the paper today." As I met his gaze, I noted the strange expression that had captured his features. His eyes watched me, lips still pressed in that same thin line and brows lowered.
"Have you now?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes at the man, before turning to look away. I grabbed the surface of the workbench for balance, lifting myself from my seat, not minding the old man's persistent staring. I regarded him, schooling my features. "I thank you for your help, Anton Sokolov." And with that, I left him where he sat, another sickly cough bouncing off the humid walls of the basement. He didn't say anything in return, instead he watched me go with that same expression.
"You're right on time." The Empress managed to sound surprised as she eyed my figure in the doorway.
"You took me for the tardily sort, then?" She was seated in the same chair I'd been in after I'd bit my tongue, the surrounding carpet perfectly rinsed of my blood—which must have taken the personnel hours. The tension from this morning had lifted, a sense of ease filling me at the familiar sight of her, her curious gaze compelling me to be more forward.
"Perhaps. I certainly didn't expect you to be punctual, anyway." Her eyes darted between me and her lap, where her hands rested on top of a worn looking book. It was a cold day, the sun low in the sky, the cool atmosphere of the room biting at my exposed pieces of skin. A crackling fire burned in the fireplace, flames dancing and licking at the stones. Its light hit the Empress, coloured her hair and brightened her skin. I was leaning against the doorpost, the wooden support a relief to my unreliable legs.
"What are you reading?" I felt suspicious of her hands, and how effectively they covered the mysterious book. I noticed the way her back straightened, as if pulled by invisible strings.
"Nothing really," she replied, voice revealing not a glimpse of her feelings.
I pushed away from the door, tall frame slinking across carpeted wood. I allowed my eyes to travel from her face to her clenched fingers, mine wrapping around them with ease, pulling them aside, relishing the buzz traveling between our intertwined limbs—the magic I knew she felt as well.
"Ancient people of Serkonos?" I asked curiously. searching her gaze.
The Empress shrugged. "I thought I could learn more about your past." The hints of an apologetic smile lifted the corners of her lips.
I shook my head, much to her apparent annoyance. "I'm not from Serkonos."
"You're not? But, that's where-" she cut herself off. "I thought..."
"An entrance to the Void is there, it isn't where I was born."
Her eyes widened, revealing a subtle display of intrigue. "Then where?"
I lowered my face towards hers, levelling our gazes. "Empress Emily Kaldwin, are you studying the heritage of the Outsider? Each day you drift deeper into heresy."
"It's for the good of the Empire," she was quick to defend herself, lips pulled into a genuine pout. "And you can let go of my hand now."
My eyes shot to the disobedient limb, noticing how it held onto hers. "It's for the good of the Empire," I combatted, pulling my hand from hers and straightening my back.
"Right, and what good might that be?" Her voice sceptical.
"Restrict the Restless Hands, which quickly become the workmates of the Outsider," I taunted, the guise of authority deepening my voice into a low purr.
The Empress snorted, eyes alight. "You're talkative today," she noted, leaving her chair as she moved to put the book back in its place. I watched her thumb across several titles, picking and taking out a few unfortunate victims.
"You know, I never was able to draw in the Void," I remarked, watching her hesitate.
She sent me a quick look over her shoulder. "You're saying you want to?"
I hesitated, eyes searching the her features. "I might."
If my interest had surprised her, she didn't show it. "I'll consider it, but there's other things to be practiced first." She walked up to me, a carefully compiled stack of books resting in her hands.
"Posture again?" I asked unenthusiastically.
"You got it," she replied, placing the books on the chair she'd occupied. I groaned as the Empress's hands moved to correct my stance, gesturing for me to mirror her movements, spreading her feet to balance her center. I begrudgingly copied the pose, which caused me to look down on the Empress even further, my height increased. "You want to chance getting stabbed by the Eyeless again?" She rested her hands on her hips, signalling she was being absolutely serious.
"They did a poor job of it the first time around, I might be willing to take the risk." I watched the way her hip jutted out whenever she took on a defiant pose.
She shook her head, turning away to pick up the books, lifting one of them to rest on my head again. "Well I'm not, so tough luck. Besides, your bad posture is a disgrace to the nobility of the Isles." She used one of her hands to correct my sloping shoulders and slight hunch again, the other carefully keeping the books in place. My eyes tracked her movements, the fabric of her blouse contorting and stretching with each different gesture.
"You rule with an iron fist, Empress—and maybe that's part of my profiling strategy."
She snorted, "what is that strategy even supposed to accomplish? The upper class shunning you at parties?" She humoured me.
"The goal is to not get an invite in the first place," I crossed my arms as I corrected her, the book tumbling down immediately, to which the Empress cocked a brow.
"Then you're doing a poor job. I've already received letters regarding my newest 'romantic partner', we've been invited to three galas so far." She rolled her eyes at the mention of 'romantic partner'. I knew she hated the way the public meddled with her life, Wyman had been spared no scrutiny, and I was certain that had played a role in recent events. The Empress replaced the book I'd dropped by another, my eyes glued to her body.
"Ah yes, how predictable. The world is in disrepair, and all the populace worry their simple minds about are trivial matters such as who beds the Empress and who gets the honour of debuting the latest fodder to feed the gossip mill." I made the mistake of crossing my arms again, causing another book to tumble down.
The Empress's eyes darted away from me, hands now playing with the shawl tied around her neck, the silken material gliding between her fingers. The posture practice had been quickly forgotten. "Unfortunately, yes. Which is why my father wants me to address the rumours as fast as possible." She bit her lip. "He wants me to make a public outing with Wyman, to steer the eyes of the public away from you." Her own eyes shot up to meet mine before returning to the floor again.
I raised my brows at her apprehension. "But you don't want to?" I dared ask, eliciting a weary sigh from the woman.
"I do," she blurted, catching herself momentarily. "Just not with Wyman. Not now. Not..." The air started to become heavier, the tension of this morning seeping in once more. She bit her lip again, one of her hands rubbing the side of her slender neck. "I'm just afraid..." She didn't finish, but I recognised that look on her face. It was the same tortured frown I'd seen there the day I'd outed Wyman's indiscretions.
"You love them still."
Something small had broken within the Empress, yet somehow she still managed to hold herself together. "I'm really tired, I'm sorry. We'll continue tomorrow."
I tilted my head, observing her almond eyes. I nodded, then, leaving the Empress to herself. I took note of the way her gaze trailed me, one hand still playing with the shawl.
When I arrived at my room later that day, I was surprised to find the Empress had sent for paper and pencils to be brought to my quarters. I sat down at the small table by the window, the reddening skies colouring the glass. I started drawing, surprised by how easily the pictures flowed from my fingertips, as if it hadn't been over 4000 years. I drew memories, fragments. Cities long forgotten and people long gone. In the distance, the lullabies of the whales accompanied me in my lonely shelter. I drew faces, flowers, and water-clocks. Sketched weathered wood and slippery pavement. Streets I'd walked and people I'd known.
As I looked down upon the small images, the tiny glimpses of a life long gone, I felt more ancient than ever.
The next day rolled by before I knew it. I'd been more than happy to hear Lurk had gotten her own quarters, relishing in the comfort of my solitude that night. After breakfast, the Empress had requested me to come to the library at two, surprising me when she'd thrown me a thicker jacket. I'd questioningly put it on, but she didn't say anything. Instead she led me down an abandoned flight of stairs, out into a private piece of the courtyard. The harsh sunlight hit me in the eyes, blinding me, the shelter of the tower leaving me unaccustomed to the brightness of the world.
"Come on!" I could hear the high notes of the Empress's voice as she walked ahead of me, her figure breaking the luminous rays showering the area with their vivid shine.
"Do you think this is a good idea?" I asked, reminding her of the current rumours that circulated the Isles. I used my hand to shield my eyes, the wind tearing at my hair and clothes, the distant crashes of waves hitting the shore echoeing between the surrounding structures.
"Don't worry, no one will see us here." She waved off my concern. "Besides, I'm attending a gala with Wyman tonight."
I was perplexed by the eagerness she now showed towards the idea, a complete turnaround from the day before. She surprised me again when she leapt down onto the lower cliffs, beyond the barricade of walls surrounding the tower
"So where do you come from?" she asked, the wind tousling her neat hair as she gestured for me to join her.
"You don't give up, do you?" I frowned as I took the hand she offered, helping me climb down onto the jagged rocks.
"Nope," she quipped, "indulge me."
I lowered myself onto the surprisingly warm surface, the stones heated by the sun. "You wouldn't recognise or understand the name." I crouched next to her, using my hands to keep balance.
"I meant what present Isle," she laughed, coming to a stand as she headed in a seemingly random direction.
"You could have asked these questions inside, too," I offered, obediently following the woman, eyes squinting in order to keep track of her progressing form. The salty winds filled my nostrils and left the sea on my tongue, the overload of fresh air leaving me dazed.
"Yes, but you shouldn't be cooped up inside all day, you need sunlight." She glanced back at me to speak before continuing forward again.
"Because I'm pale?" I questioned, tripping on a ridiculous piece of rock.
Her hands were quick to catch me, pulling me upright again with no effort. "No. Because it's healthy."
"Because I'm old?" I raised my brows at her, able to see her clearly now that she blocked the sun.
"You're not old," she snorted, turning away and causing the rays to burn into my face again. "Honestly, you're impossible." She shook her head. We soon arrived at the edge of the cliff, where the Empress jumped down onto a hidden plateau. I followed suit, her hands once more catching me as I stumbled with my landing. I noticed the table and chairs that stood facing the sea, used plates and old food containers scattered around the small space. The Empress moved around with a liberty that suggested she'd spent a lot of time here, dropping down in one of the chairs as she pulled a few items from her deep pockets. I hesitantly joined her, sitting in the chair next to hers. The surrounding rock protected us from the howling winds, a peaceful break I appreciated.
"Do you recognise this place?" she asked, eyes shooting up to meet mine expectantly.
I sat back as I searched her face. "No."
She looked a bit perturbed at my response. "I thought you could see everything?"
I opened and closed my mouth several times, caught off guard as my eyes darted across the space. She frowned, crossing her arms, eyes traveling towards the waves that stretched out below us.
"I used to come here a lot," she started, glancing at the weathered table. "Wyman and I did." I watched the smile that tugged at her lips, the hopeful set of her eyes as she recalled times long gone. "We'd enjoy the view. I often painted, and they'd write." She tilted her head as her eyes met mine. "It always helped us relax, made us more capable of dealing with the daily stresses of life in the eyes of the public."
My fingers wrapped around the cool steel of my rings, twisting and turning them as I listened to her. She moved to unfold the objects she'd brought, revealing several pieces of paper and sticks of charcoal.
"Did you draw when you were alive?" she asked, gaze burning into mine with an amount of curiosity that bordered on desperation. My eyes traveled from her expectant face to the tools she'd brought, fully aware of the weight of her question. For once I felt myself unwilling to hold back.
"I drew botanics," I confessed, unable to look away from her after allowing the words to slip. I held my breath as I waited for her reaction, the admission more personal than I'd care to explain. She observed me with unspoken wonder, the curves of her mouth forming into a subtle 'o'.
"Why?" she asked then, earnest gaze compelling me to keep on talking.
"To preserve them." I glanced at the ocean again, the dark waters sloshing in the same repeating patterns as always. I knew she wouldn't be satisfied with my answer, the delicate frown that pulled together her arched brows was telling enough, but it was all I was capable of giving, right now. Here, within the calmness of the hidden plateau and away from prying eyes, I'd already offered her one of my innermost secrets. She seemed to pick up on my slight discomfort, choosing not to pry any further. Instead she offered to draw the landscape together, handing me one of the pieces of charcoal and a sheet of paper.
As we both worked on our own translation of the view, she lectured me on ways to properly greet and speak to nobility. She informed me on the subtle rules of conversation and how to be polite at all times. I listened carefully to everything she had to say, eyes occasionally caught by the delicate motions of her mouth. She retrieved a small bundle of canned goods after a while, offering me something to eat. We continued working as we both munched on the preserved provisions, the saltiness of the taste surprising me after my many meals of Sokolov's overly sweet goo. Time passed by pleasantly, and I found that the Empress's teaching voice was a rather welcome replacement for the usual score of deep sea ballads.
When the sun had lowered enough to begin melting into the sea, the Empress announced that it was time for us to return to the tower. The orange glow warmed her features and set her eyes alight, their shape accentuated by the shadows cast. She stood, carefully rolling up her drawing, storing the petite scroll into one of her pockets. Her eyes glanced at me before crossing my own creation, a sharp intake of breath causing her chest to swell. I watched her face as she stared down at the picture I'd constructed, pink lips parting and eyes widening. When she met my gaze again I was rendered speechless by the excitement that illuminated her features, mouth pulled into a grin, almond eyes lit with a thousand flickering ambers.
The sinking sun hit her face in a way I hadn't seen before, and at that moment I found there was only one word my mind was capable of conjuring that came close enough to conveying the essence of the scenery before me.
Beautiful.
Time ticked by. One hour. Two hours. Three hours. I sat on the cold floor, back pressed against a wall, a corner of my room. The corner safe from the light, the corner shrouded in darkness. I liked the dark, liked the shadows that engulfed my skin. I liked the feel of my fingers digging into my scalp as they pulled at my unmanageable hair. I didn't like the fact that I hadn't noticed her entering my room, form hovering at the table, my table. I also didn't like the look she sent me as she discovered me. But whether I liked it or not, she moved over, dropping to her knees in front of my feet.
"Hey kid," she spoke, single eye searching mine.
I didn't meet her gaze, instead I continued staring at the clock. Another second, another heartbeat. Her hand came up to touch my shoulder, but I grabbed it before it reached me, pale fingers wrapping around the bandage that hid the black shatters of her void limb, the buzz of magic cooing at my skin. I met her eye then, a scowl drawing my tired features together. She answered me with a scowl of her own, lips pulled into an unhappy grimace.
"It's time for dinner." She pulled her arm out of my grasp, the magic scraping against my fingers, and stood. She dusted off her knees before turning away, headed back towards the door. As she passed the table, I saw her head turn to the scattered papers on top of it. She didn't stop to comment. At the sound of the distant door closing again, I allowed myself to slump down, legs sliding across the cold surface of the floor. I felt my insides coil up within me, a surge of nauseating tension traveling through my worn muscles, stressed tendons and ailing heart. I felt sick.
I gingerly lifted my body from where it rested on the floor, limbs trembling ever so slightly. I used the firm and reliable wall for support, glancing back at the cliffs—the vacant rocks that divided us from the swirling waters beyond—and a distant and sickening pang shot through me. Fear.
With a sigh, I headed towards the door, fingers grasping the cold knob. I opened it, and found myself face to face with Lurk again; nonchalantly leaning against a wall.
"Took you long enough, come on," she spoke, pushing herself off and turning to walk down the hallway. I followed without a word, surprised she'd been waiting for me. The heels of her boots thumbed against the floor, the carpet muting the rhythmic sounds. "Want to talk about what's wrong?" she asked, tentatively, voice void of its usual mockery.
I stared at nothing in particular, eyes gazing down the hall without focus or purpose. I could see Lurk glancing at me, sharp features moving in my peripheral. "No," I objected, gaze shooting towards her face, catching the lift of her brow. I turned to glare at the carpet, crossing my arms in front of me.
She stayed silent for a short, blissful moment. "Didn't know you drew."
I turned a corner, knowing the way by now. Lurk had to increase her pace to keep up, the rhythm of her steps quickening.
"I didn't know you were a fan of small talk, how ignorant we can sometimes be," I spoke with derision.
She didn't appear to be fazed by my sneering. "You're so tall. It's off-putting."
I resisted rolling my eyes, turning to inspect the passing wallpaper instead.
"Didn't know Emily was into the 'tall, dark and handsome' thing, you know?" she jibed.
Was she calling me handsome? I paused my walking, sending the woman behind me an exasperated glare. "Can you stop?"
That earned me a smirk from the former assassin. "I'm just trying to see if there's any truth to these rumours."
I quickened my pace, trying to rid myself of the nuisance that was Billie Lurk—but she had no trouble keeping up with me. Her trained legs could outrun mine with ease, and I was painfully aware of that fact. I hurriedly turned another corner, relieved at the sight of our destination. I sent the woman another quick glare before opening the double doors. I was surprised by the sight of Sokolov, curved spine slumped against the back of his chair. I ignored the woman behind me as I went to sit next to the old man—his laboured breathing didn't escape my attention. Lurk sat down across from me, next to Corvo, who flanked the empty chair of the Empress. My eyes masterfully avoided the vacant spot.
"Thank you, Billie," Corvo grunted, hands steepled in front of his mouth.
The former assassin kept her gaze locked on me as she nodded. "It was no problem."
I sent her a glare, still annoyed by her previous questioning.
"Well then, without further ado, let's eat." He lifted the lid off several dishes, tropical colours and exotic smells laid bare before us. The meals looked mouth-watering, but I knew I wouldn't be so lucky as he lifted a final lid to reveal the usual sludge I was fed at all times of the day. I watched him dump the goo onto my plate with a sour expression, the warm air wafting off my dish doing my appetite no favours. The others moved to fill their plates, steaming food filling my nose with its delicious scents. "How'd the lesson go?" Corvo suddenly asked, dark gaze burning into me.
I choked on the bite I'd been trying to swallow, coughing into a fist as my eyes danced between him and Lurk. "The Empress informed me on the importance and details of social and conversational rules in etiquette," I spoke calmly, throat closing up on me as I attempted to swallow the bits of food that remained.
"Good," the Royal Protector grunted. "Then you know all you need to know. You'll start training with me as of tomorrow." His eyes narrowed at me, and I wasn't sure if I should be happy with the news or not. "There are more important matters to deal with."
I detected the sour edge to his voice, noticing the whitening of his knuckles as he held onto the cutlery a fraction too tight.
It was Sokolov's turn to talk. "Speaking of, Lady Emily informed me of the boy's equivocal ability to perceive visions of future events."
I chanced a glance at the empty chair at the head of the table, wondering if she'd be dining and dancing with the Morley noble right now as I swallowed another bite of the tasteless food.
"Visions? What do you mean visions? For how long?" The Royal Protector's temper flared as he turned to me, disbelief contorting his features at the mention of the withheld piece of information.
My eyes flitted up to meet his, taking quick note of his tense shoulders and raised eyebrows. "What he means is that I happened to catch a few glimpses of possible events. But don't fret, I saw nothing of direct concern to you, Corvo," I sneered at the Royal Protector, annoyed by his brusqueness.
"What did you see?" he persisted, lowering his head in an attempt to force me to meet his eyes. I continued eating, unsettled by the gazes focused on me. "This isn't a game. This is life and death. What did you see?" Corvo's tone was loaded with warning, hands spread across the table before him as if to bear the weight of the situation.
I eyed the man, contemplating whether telling him would be the best idea. Probably not. It was too risky. "I saw Lurk's dead eye gaze upon stories only to be told by the deceased, an artefact in shatters."
Corvo's raised shoulders didn't relax as his eyes narrowed at the ambiguity of the words. "What's that even supposed to mean?" he asked in an attempt to get me to spill my guts even further.
I sent the man an annoyed glare before continuing, feeling an uncomfortable heat creep up my back. "Like I said," I bit out. "I also saw Sokolov, minus two fingers, as he lit the ocean on fire." I picked up on the sharp intake of breath that Sokolov took, his decrepit heart pushing its limits at the revelation. My gaze slowly drifted towards the empty chair at the head of the table, a strange feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. "And I saw Empress Emily Kaldwin as she danced in a crowd, hair in disarray, clothes worn into threads and hands wet with my blood."