The Vileness of Man: Mission Two — A Child's Game
"Chapter 2, Page 24:
As I'm writing this, it's been nearly six years since the Royal Physician Anton Sokolov and his partner, Piero Joplin, created a cure for the rat plague, though remnants of that dark time still persist today. Although fairly harmless now, the plague has not entirely been eradicated, and tales of Weepers and throngs of rats being spotted in the sewers of Dunwall still can be heard. Though slowly recovering, as it stands now, the capital is in shambles. Thousands of citizens are homeless—their apartments and neighborhoods either quarantined or eternally condemned from the plagues' destruction. And though the empress' issued embargo was slowly coming to an end (for fear the rats would spread to external regions), Dunwall found itself in immense debt, one from which I fear it will not climb out of for many years.
Yet the rich continue to celebrate in their abundance without delay, leaving the young Empress Emily to solemnly brood high in her tower, her heart bleeding for her impoverished and malnourished masses. How she wishes for her "golden era" to rise from the dank shadows, leaving back these dark times and looking forward to a bright future. However, it will be a long time before that era will come and until then a false peace will obscure the land.
After Emily was restored to Dunwall Tower and crowned empress, the first order of business was to deal with the remnants of the corrupted government that plunged the city into this state of depravity. The first official removed from court was First Commander Gregory, second in command to General Tobias, who was found to be the one that ordered the guards away from their posts on the day of Empress Jesssamine's assassination. Though Tobias was the head of the castle guard, he was reportedly ill that day and was absent from the Tower, and despite him also being one of Hiram Burrow's top generals, he insisted his service was secular to the rightful heir, which was the Lord Regent at the time. The commander was hanged for treason last Fall, and numerous other guards and a few members of Parliament were also relieved of their duties for being seemingly sympathetic toward Lord Regent Burrow's tyranny.
It should be noted that because Emily was only ten when she took the throne, Parliament wished for her to be assigned a regent to advice her actions. At first she asked me to advice her, but I declined. I'm not an ambitious man; I never wanted a seat of power. All I wished for was to protect my empress to my fullest extent and these duties would surely by compromised if it had been me who had advised her. So Parliament assigned her one of their own, Lord Lucius Banister, a nobleman from Potterstead. He served her up until last year, when Emily turned sixteen. He was rather upset when his power was dissolved, but I believe it was for the best, for Emily's voice was severely muted while he was her regent, but I will talk more about him later on.
The last person who was replaced was the High Overseer. Campbell had long since been dealt with, left to rot in the Flooded District as a Weeper, and his successor, Teague Martin, soon followed him to the grave. Thus a new High Overseer was proclaimed by the Abbey of the Everyman, High Overseer Gregor Parrish. Parrish, in one word, is a fundamentalist. The Abbey's code is law and everything below that is heresy, or at least that's his way of thinking. Poor Emily, I can only imagine how she'll feel this time tomorrow, for surely by then she will have discovered the reason for my absence. I suppose I had it coming to me in a way, for "great power involves great responsibility" as the saying goes, and I was reckless with my gift."
The stark scent of salt burnt Corvo's nose as he carefully closed the half-written chapter, and decided to retire for the night. It was late, the empty black sky would attest to that. And though he had been sailing for only a few hours, it felt like longer and the exhaustion combined with a lingering headache begged him to shut his eyes. He tossed his navy frock coat over his desk chair and hastily unbuckled the metal neck plate fastened around his neck. As he sat on his bed, its rusted frame squeaked under his weight and the corroded facets shifted uneasily from age. He kicked off his thick leather boots, set the cumbrous piece of neck armor onto his chair, and lay back on the small cot. With every sway of the small vessel, the mattress' thin springs screeched and plowed themselves into Corvo's back, making him uncomfortably shift about. He eventually closed his eyes, though it would not be because comfort had finally permitted him rest and as the boat rocked with the rhythm of the waves, so did he, like an infant in its mother's arms.
At first, his dreams were non-existent. Only darkness filled his view and the perpetual motion of the sea kept him from a peaceful slumber. It wouldn't be until later that his subconscious would finally give in to his surroundings and when it did his mind began to wander and dwell on the recent past—on the events of earlier that day.
Dunwall Tower was a magnificent structure. It was the shining beacon of a crumbling capital and a ray of hope in a city of despair. The large, three-story castle gave an air of grandeur much lacking in the present time and only reserved for those who had the money to not have to worry about the affairs of lesser men. That alone is what made the tower such a beautiful sight to behold. In all of its glory and opulence, its esteemed resident could not escape the trials of the commoners and was forced to bear witness to the fact that her city, or even further, her empire, needed reformation.
Ever since Lord Lucius Banister had left Empress Emily's side, she had been feeling the full weight of the burden of power and dare I say she was not fairing it well. While Banister was her regent, her voice was all but unheard in Parliament and Dunwall was ran by a figure-headed empress. Though this upset her, the capital was showing modest improvement and so she warily went along with the noble's antics, if not solely to protect herself against another assassination plot. However, since Banister's regency ran up, Emily had been trying to force herself into the forefront of Parliament and to take back her rightful power as sovereign. Needless to say, the transition has been rather unsettling.
Whenever there wasn't a battle between a nobleman and my Lady about how the city should be kept, Emily would brood in her tower, attending to her studies under Callista's guidance, or trying to ease her troubled mind through the small hobbies that she prided herself in. Her artistic skills had greatly improved with practice to the point in which she can portray a clear likeness of the portrait's recipient. Soon I believe she will even be able to capture their essence. Perhaps if she had grown in better times, Sokolov would have been able to show her the way around a paintbrush as well.
When she wasn't drawing or reading, swordplay was her next big pastime. I admit that it was I who indirectly turned her on to this dangerous sport, but rather than turn her away from this mainly male activity, I saw it as an opportunity to better prepare her to be able to defend herself. For one day I would no longer be capable of protecting her, a realization I have tried to make her understand for some time now. I know she already is aware of it, but in her female stubbornness she refuses to acknowledge my growing age.
Earlier today, Emily had asked me to meet her out in the courtyard gazebo to practice her disarming stroke. Apparently she told Callista she would attend to her lessons after mine; though that wasn't the agreement we had decided upon when I first began to train her. It irked me slightly that she would be so remiss in her studies, but what could I really do? It wasn't exactly my place to reprimand her for being negligent. I wasn't her father, despite what other might believe, and my relationship towards her didn't necessarily allow me to be the one to direct her manner of conduct. So I indulged her.
The weather was rather windy, and the cool chill of approaching autumn bit at my nose. The flowers in the Tower's courtyard had begun to slumber under the blanket of cold, effectively making the gardens look especially drab and ill-tended. I could see Emily standing gracefully under the shelter of the gazebo, her body bent over the railing as she gazed aloofly down at the rocky shore line. She was seventeen now, and the older she grew the more her form began to attune to that of her mother's, even going as far as how she dressed. She wore a black blouse with cut-away sleeves and cloaked shoulders, a white, high collared, bishop-sleeved shirt, black riding pants, and black women's boots. Though her chestnut colored hair had lengthened, she still managed to make it mimic her younger, shorter hair style by pining up large, luxurious curls held in place by her signature red headband and white bow. Like a good wine, age matured her body and her beauty had soon earned the jealousy of every noblewoman in the Isles.
She must had heard my approach, for as I reached the small rotunda she turned towards me and smiled softly. I don't know what it was about her smile, how her eyes lifted softly and head tilted slightly to the left, but every time I saw one it melted my heart.
"Corvo!" she yelled enthusiastically as she rushed to greet me and thrust a wooden waster into my hands. Contentment radiated from her figure as she prepared her own training sword, glaring at mine with fiery passion. Though I felt slightly guilty for espousing her fervor (even going as far as to present her with a custom smallsword for her sixteenth birthday) the way her face always lit up whenever a blade fell into her grip seemed to make these little events worthwhile. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?" her gentle smile quickly turned into a devilish smirk and in that instant I knew I had been set up. Skipping lessons, asking me to the gazebo on such a dreary day, it had all been a part of some scheme to lower my high defenses, a challenge Emily frequently undertook.
"Just what did you have in mind, my Lady?" I asked, listening to her scoff as I addressed her formally. She hated that. I don't know how many times she had scolded me for calling her "your Highness" or "my Lady" when no one else was around to hear it, but I couldn't help by call her such. Perhaps it was my upbringing, or perhaps I genuinely liked seeing her face scrunch upon hearing my teasing tone, even I didn't know anymore.
"A five-point sparing match," Emily proudly suggested as she pointed her wooden waster towards my chest, "If I win, you have to play hide-and-seek with me directly after. You get to choose your reward if you win."
A bet? It was rather daring of her, though I wouldn't have expected any less, despite her choice of prize was not being what I was imagining. A simple child's game; she could have blatantly asked me to play with her. But it was her wish, so I played along, "If I win, you have to go do your lessons with Callista."
She scoffed at my remark, probably seeing it as reprisal for skipping them in the first place, "Fine, you're no fun. I'm getting too old for Callista's etiquette training though."
"But you're not too old for hide-and-seek?" I laughed softly, which made her purse her lips and furrow her brows in retaliation.
"You're never too old for hide-and-seek, Corvo."
Her tone was deadly serious as she spoke those words, and for a second I thought I had truly upset her with my banter. However my mind was soon pulled from its distant thoughts as pain surged through my left arm, causing me to yelp softly to alleviate my ailment. I look down for the cause of my pain, and my eyes settled themselves upon the sheen of lacquered oak in the shape of a blade. Emily's laughter filled the background.
"That's one for me," Emily mocked, removing her training sword from my surely bruised arm. She was playing dirty, which reluctantly made me laugh alongside her as I saw just how my teaching had rubbed off. Once we had both settled down, I readied my faux blade and the match truly began.
I advanced forward, an attack which she easily countered and I would have accepted nothing less. The echo of wood bouncing off each other reverberated throughout the empty courtyard and our movement warmed the chilly air. What seemed like minutes of us countering one another's moves soon ended though as I feinted an attack to the left and softly tapped her right shoulder with my sword, "You have to keep your eye on my sword, not my feet," I lightly warned, recoiling from my successful attack. Her face scrunched as she acknowledged my suggestion and the battle quickly reconvened. As she lunged at me with her saber, I parried to the side and achieved yet another successful point with a riposte. My continuous victories must have been upsetting her, because I heard her huff loudly as she returned to starting position. I flunged towards her, sweeping my weapon in a horizontal arc, which I was sure would land me the win. However, to my pleasant surprise, Emily dodged with a passata sotto, dropping her body to the ground and jabbing me in the stomach with the tip of her waster. She elegantly pulled off this advanced move, and her aptitude for learning humbled my competitive spirit. As our blades met for the last time, she attempted to disarm me by wrapping her blade under mine, the same move she claimed she was having trouble with. I could see she was struggling, but as she jerked her arm back towards her body, I felt my grip slip and my sword hit the concrete floor with an ear-splitting thud. I'm still not quite sure if I had allowed her that victory, or if she had truly earned it. Either way, she would not soon let me forget that she had won, as she took my hands into hers and forced them over my eyes.
"Start counting, Corvo, while I hide." Before I could protest, I heard her feet scramble off into the distance, and I reluctantly began to play a child's game.
Second chapter up, finally, though I doubt the next will be up as fast. Damned term papers. Though I didn't get to explain all the events of that day in one chapter, I'll continue it into the next one. I tend to get carried away in detail, which can unfortunately make my chapters drag on for longer than I was intending them to be. Yay for you, whoops for me.
REVIEW! As I said in the first chapter, all criticism is treasured. I do respond to questions if you have any, so don't be afraid to ask away. However, if you see a typo and wish to inform me, I rather you send those through pms so when I fix it, the remark will not linger in my reviews…