The first thing Samuel is aware of is the lack of sound from the oceans waves beating against the Amaranth, the salty breeze has all but vanished as well and the elderly sailor dares to look up only to meet stone walls and the vast amount of faces- most of which are children- suddenly focused on their direction. The sound of the ocean and his beloved Amaranth is gone despite them having been standing upon it only milliseconds ago.
The second thing he's aware of is Corvo; who is still hunched over him, as the sheathed blade Peiro made him all those years ago to slip into the Royal Protector's free hand. The other hand is supporting him, keeping the elder of the two from falling and introducing his face into the stone floors beneath their feet. His dark eyes are sharp like razors as they dart around the room, taking in everything at once and already plotting the necessary means of escape.
One of the few adults- sitting upon a long table at the front of what Samuel can now tell is a feast hall- attempt to move towards them only for Corvo to yank the boatman closer, forcing the other's back firmly against his chest, as the blade unsheathes. The old man stills as the blade locates itself against his long white beard making the Royal Protector's intentions clear should he dare to take another step.
"Harry Potter."
The man speaks as if the name should mean something to them but all it garters is a swift exchange of confused looks from the two men. Samuel does not know a Harry Potter and its obvious neither does Corvo, but there's something distinctly familiar about the old man's accent.
Dark eyes glance over at him, causing the boatman to shake his head.
"Never heard of."
Corvo speaks for the both of them after a moment, causing a frown to mar onto the stranger's face.
"Surely one of you must be, the goblet would not have brought you here otherwise."
He thought one of them was this 'Harry Potter'?
Goblet? What in heavens name does a cup have to do with anything?
"No, we're not."
The frown deepens slightly before its replaced by what Samuel can only guess is supposed to be a Grandfatherly smile and... Where his eyes actually twinkling?
"Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere else? May I suggest my office?"
"No."
The word slips from both Samuel and Corvo at the same time, neither willing to trust this stranger enough to walk into his own domain. If they did talk it would have to be somewhere a bit more public, least things go sour.
The Stanger's name is Albus Dumbledore; Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
Samuel's not sure what even half of the man's titles mean but he knows the man's either recklessly brave or a complete fool for admitting any connection to magic. Even though he knows its impossible, his emerald eyes dart about as though searching for anyone who could overhear the man.
He half expects a mob to pop up out of thin air; waving guns, swords and torches as they shout out demand to burn the other at a stake. From the slight tension in Corvo's shoulder's he likely exacts the same to happen.
When it doesn't happen, Samuel forces himself to relax and refocus on the colorblind man- for why else would be wear something so hideous?
Dumbledore spins a tale of mystic wonder, romance, love and betrayal like a storyteller of old about Lilly and James Potter and their son, Harry; who apparently killed a man- some self claimed Dark Lord- when he was but a year old.
Honestly, it sounds more to Samuel of a child's fantasy then an actually life. Corvo's scowl tells exactly what the Serkonian thinks of the 'Wizard's' story.
He believes one of them is this Harry Potter but even his spell proves otherwise as two names float over their heads in words of fire:
Samuel Beechworth
Corvo Attano
A dark look of frustration flashes in the man's eyes for a moment before its gone, replaced by the unnatural twinkle once more. He's stubborn, Samuel will give him that as the man seems to though out countless spells but they all end with the same results:
Samuel Beechworth and Corvo Attano.
Corvo all but mirrors his scowl at that point.
Despite attempting to build a huddle by the lake, they end up spending the night in the medical wing.
The nurse; Poppy, reminds Samuel of a fierce and outspoken Cecelia. She spends a good two hours lecturing him about his health and needing to take better care of himself while shoving vial after vial of what she calls potions into his arms. Corvo, the bastard, just stands to the side with laughter clear in his dark eyes.
And though he's not one usually for it, Samuel swears revenge.
Still, he cannot deny he feels lighter, younger even by time the nurse is done. His lungs no longer feel heavy or clouded smog and even the stress lines are gone from his face. His bones no longer feel as though they're going to break with a strong wind. He spends a good ten minutes gawking at a face he hasn't seen in thirty years with a smug nurse standing only feet behind him.
He doesn't dare to look Corvo's why but he does take the effort to throw the nearest object- a rather thick tome- at the younger when he mentions needing more 'luck'.
That night he's woken from a semi-peaceful sleep by sharp pain.
He's not very surprised to find Corvo has crawled into his bed, they where safer this way, but it makes it slightly difficult to free his hand from under the man without waking him yet Samuel manages it. Lifting the corner of his glove, emerald eyes stare at the glowing mark burning darker then the boatman has ever seen before.
Erland is furious if not outright livid.
Fingers press against the mark focusing solely on the deity and thankfully the pain stops.
'Where?'
Erland's voice echoes though his mind but Samuel's not quite sure how to answer that. No map he managed to catch a glimpse of look even similar to what their world did. There where multiple, whole and complete landmasses instead of the five he was used to. Samuel had his doubts they where still in their own world.
'Let me in.'
Relaxing, Samuel pulls his glove back down and closes his eyes, allowing the deity to rampage through his memories without resistance. A part of him can't help but wonder if Erland had ever bothered teaching Corvo how to contact him...
Probably not. This was Erland after all.
It wouldn't be as entertaining if you just outright told them. It was so much more amusing watching them scramble about like a chicken without its head, desperately trying to find a proper way to contact him when they needed him.
Samuel wakes with the sun, an old habit he never quite managed to kick. Its a bit of a hassle escaping Corvo's grasp but he manages. The other thankfully sleeps on.
He needs a shower and he'd rather not have to worry about wither or not he's being spied upon...Again.
The shower is... Unique but in a good way. He doesn't have to fill and boil buckets of water like he normally would, instead they just turn a nob in the wall; one for cold and one for hot, both for warm.
Apparently there's pipes behind the walls twisted into a system called plumbing that carries water to you and then there's a pipe under the smooth silver area with wholes in it that carries the dirty water away. Its a rather pleasant idea, especially since all he had to do was push down a handle instead of dealing with the mess of a chamber pot.
He wonders if he could find a way to bring them 'plumbing' back with them.
He clothes are clean when he's done, well clean was a bit of an understatement; his clothes look brand new lacking the worn look and hand sewn stitches they had gained over the years. He decides then and there, Poppy is his favorite person belonging to this world.
He pockets his toothbrush and heads to check on Corvo.
The Royal Protector's awake but he's not alone, floating a few feet to his right is Erland and sitting just across form them on another bed is Dumbledore himself, cheerfully ignoring both Deity and the Royal Protector's blazing glare with a sense of obviousness Samuel didn't think anyone was capable of having.
Anyone but Albus Dumbledore it appears, as the aged wizard keeps smiling, his eyes twinkling brighter- serious that man should see a doctor about that- when they landed upon the boatman.
"Ah, Harry. You're friend here explained everything. Of course I'm sure he was exaggerating in some categories. I must say, you have quite a curious case."
Samuel can't help but stare blankly for a moment before looking to the two men across from the wizard.
"What the hell is he talking about?"
Upon first glance, Erland, better known to most as The Outsider decides he doesn't like the wizard known as Albus Dumbledore.
The man may hid behind the Grandfatherly act he puts on but to the Void all is known, all is visible. Every dark secret, every lie, murder, deceit, plan and plot ever considered, he knows it all. It doesn't take him long to figure out this 'Harry Potter' was actually the young boy named 'Freak'. Freak of who he granted a new life in another word as Samuel.
Dumbledore thinks its Corvo and at first Erland is alright with that until he hits the plan to murder Harry Potter for the 'Greater Good' and once more he speaks without thinking- maybe Samuel was onto something there.
"Stay away from Samuel."
Its a mistake to say, Erland knows it the moment the words leave his lips and two sets of eyes lock on him.
"Samuel?'
"He does have Lilly's eyes, but I didn't exact him to be so old..."
He gives Attano a sharp nod, eyes narrowing on the wizard, "I believe their Harry Potter is a child I meet in the world named Freak. I granted Freak another chance by having his soul reborn into another world."
And there was his mistake, how they managed to steal what was his out from under his nose. Magic was connected to the soul, he should have torn Samuel's out before having him reincarnated. Because they didn't their Goblet of Fire managed to not only locate but drag Samuel and in turn Corvo into another world entirely. If only Samuel was a bit younger, he could correct his mistake and take that belonged to him home without worry they would drag him- and knowing the other, Corvo- back.
He likes Dumbledore even less when he follows the other's train of thought.
He knew. That Damn Wizard knew about the abuse, he paid them to do so. If he hadn't show when he did...
If he hadn't chosen Freak as His...
He wonders if killing the man would break his pact.
Well maybe not, if he used Corvo to do it that is. And if that didn't work, can anyone fault him if the wizard happened to accidently walk into a portal into the void- those things where so tricky to keep tract of after all. Who knew when one might go rouge?
Of course then mortal wizard ignores his warning and even dares to call his Samuel Harry.
A blank look covers the other's face but he can see the confusion in his boatman's eyes.
"What the hell is he talking about?"
He didn't like this Albus Dumbledore before but now... The only thing keeping him from making the other a shish kabob is the tight grip he keeps on Samuel's arm. He doesn't understand it all but he understands enough.
This Harry Potter was a child who didn't even know his own name, believing it to actually be Freak that befriended the void's embodiment. Freak in turn for the outsider's mark got a whole new life though reincarnation. Therefore Harry Potter and Freak where Dead. Samuel Beechworth was still Samuel Beechworth... Just maybe with a familiar design on the skin under his gloves.
Yet this senile man expected Samuel to be Harry, to give up everything for a world not his own. Like hell he'd let that happen and judging from the looks neither would The Outsider.
After all, Samuel was the Royal Boatman; he had to come home or Emily would throw a fit and never be able to go anywhere since the young Empress refused to allow anyone else to cart her around.