Chapter Eleven

Acceptance of One's Heart

It's truly amazing, my dear mortal. After all of these years, do you know that people still attach the title of the Crown Killer to Corvo? I find it fascinating how so many mortals are ignorant of current events. But I wonder if you are, as well?

"What's that supposed to mean?" the mortal asked.

I shrug. You're intelligent, aren't you, mortal? I've given you the threads. Now piece them together, one by one, and you'll have your answer.

The mortal sighed.

Now, listen well. It's time for the tale.

…

Daud. A man who possesses nearly as many names as I do. How many years have passed, and how many bodies have fallen because of him? Let me give you a hint, my dear mortal. Too many.

He came to Dunwall at the age of sixteen, after having a rather extraordinary childhood. I will admit to having some empathy towards the young Daud. Around the year of 1820, I bestowed my Mark upon him. He had the potential of changing the world. Well, he certainly left an impression upon your world, hasn't he?

"And I would certainly hope that, after all these years, this man is dead and rotting in the dirt somewhere."

I tilt my head, and cross my arms. Your hope is in vain, mortal. Daud is very much alive. In fact, he is alive and well, and enjoying his retirement. But you're welcome to try and kill him. Perhaps one day, your paths will cross again. Who is to say?

I will admit. I had lost all of my interest in Daud, up until he committed regicide. Now, this renewed my interest in him.

On the day he killed the Empress, the tightly wound cord of his existence began to fray. Each night, he would suffer from horrific nightmares of death and despair. His men would hear him screaming in his sleep. And on more than one occasion, he had almost killed a Whaler, who had enough of a heart to check on his Master.

Before there was ever a Knife of Dunwall, there was once an optimistic young man, who would succumb to the will of another. Over time, he would become just like every other mortal I have bestowed my power upon…cynical and corrupt.

"So then how did he redeem himself?" the mortal asked.

By challenging Delilah Copperspoon, and saving the heir to the throne of the Empire of the Isles. He realized that there was more at stake than a legacy of fear and infamy. Daud realized his imperfections. And it was this final reckoning of his life's choices that set him on a path of redemption.

Daud became wracked with guilt, and indecision. He even considered going back to Dunwall Tower, and killing the Royal Spymaster, as a way of…atonement. And he would have, too, if it weren't for Delilah being a more pressing matter.

"None of this absolves his crimes," the mortal said, derisively.

And yet, there are those who would beg to differ. They've even forgiven him, recognizing that this is a befitting resolution, for those who have walked a similar path.

Everyone makes mistakes in their lives, mortal. Daud made his mistakes, and paid dearly for them. You'd simply be wasting time, dredging deeper into what has already been settled. You have other matters to attend to, that are of greater concern.

"Such as?"

I told you, mortal. Piece the threads together, and you will have your answer.

"You've given me nothing other than children's tales, and vague promises. How is any of this meant to help me?"

You sought me, child. I tell you children's tales because your mind is fixated on the childhood that you lost. You wish to play chess like a master, yet you are still nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game. You have learned nothing from those who have come before you, or even from those who have influenced your life.

I will deign, this one time, and tell you the moral of this tale. My power cannot fix what is flawed within you. That is something you must do on your own. You alone are responsible for all of your actions. One day, you, too, will face a reckoning. And you must be prepared for the judgment that will be rendered upon you.