Two - The Mysteries Of His Mind

Corvo bowed his head and held out his hand. Lady Emily grasped it gently and walked up the stairs to her throne. She nodded at the court and took her seat slowly, following which the officials seated themselves. Corvo stood beside her throne, watching their faces carefully. He looked up. The balconies had two guards each, and alarms had been placed everywhere, just as he had ordered. The doors were also properly guarded.

'Sleep well, Corvo?' Emily asked, looking up at him with an innocent smile.

He lowered his head and smiled gently. 'Yes, My Lady. And I hope you have too.'

'I slept fine. A few disturbing dreams, but thats all.'

When they weren't in court, Corvo didn't address her formally, He just called her 'Emily' and that was how she preferred it too. He even gave her rides on his back, and played hide and seek with her. When she lost her doll, he always found it for her, and if it couldn't be found, he just got a new one for her. He was her only substitute for family.

Anna Maria Bridges was her tutor, a respected lady of 50 years, who also taught her court etiquette and behaviour. She took care of Emily like a sister, and among all of Emily's servants, Anna Maria earned Corvo's complete trust. He was still paranoid, but he was confident about leaving Emily with her in a room, as long as there was a guard outside.

She was now standing on the other side of the throne, smiling at Emily as she spoke to her.

In a while, after the announcements were made, the day of appeals and debates began, and Emily sat in her throne, listening to each one carefully, weighing its worth and seeking advice, while Corvo stood by her, observing everyone and everything.

When Emily asked for water, he fetched it for her.

The weepers moaned and groaned, and dragged themselves across their cells, occasionally reaching out to grab hold of Willow as she stood observing them. There were a total of twenty five cells, one weeper in each. She stood in front of each cell, observing their movements, their eyes, their voices and actions, and took down notes on the papers.

Piero and Sokolov were behind a closed door, the forbidden room in their lab where they formulated the elixir. Their laboratory was in fact an entire floor with five rooms, and it was the floor with the least number of guards. There were only a total of four guards, and they stayed in the corridors. Sokolov and Piero both hated strangers interrupting their work, and had strictly ordered the watch to never enter the rooms. The weeper cells were in the last room, and a row of cells ran on each side. It was the dirtiest room on the floor, because most of the servants refused to even enter the place. The weepers terrified them.

Willow was different, because she didn't fear them. Her feelings towards weepers and plague rats were just like her feelings towards The Outsider. She stayed clear of them, but still did her job perfectly.

After the last weeper had been examined, she went back into the main hall of the lab and locked the weeper cell room.

She placed the reports in the desk and went ahead to work on her own thesis, which did not concern The Plague.

Willow was interested in the mind, The human brain. Not as a simple organ or such, but the part that thought, feared and felt. She wanted to decode it. Sokolov knew about her interests, and had been impressed to find a woman in such a field. He had given her his full permission to carry out her studies - as long as it didn't interfere with his work or her duties.

'Maybe someday,' he had said, 'You'll be known for it. Probably even become a great philosopher. Not as great as me, but as close as you can get.'

She smiled remembering those words. His pride and cocky attitude had definitely irked her in the beginning, but with time, she had gotten used to it. Now she simply smiled when he said something like that, because Sokolov was a complete intellectual. Whatever he spoke, he based it on facts, because they were verifiable. And he himself was a genius, so he never denied it, and appreciated himself the way others would appreciate him. Piero was about the same, but a little more humble when compared to Sokolov.

There was one thing she had always admired in Piero - he never crossed his limits. It wasn't the same with Sokolov. Anton, on the other hand, had been accused in the past of sexual harassment, and Willow was completely aware of it when she took up the job. In the beginning, he had made a few inappropriate comments about her looks, telling her openly that she had a "slender figure" and that her "hindquarters" were worth looking at. She never reacted to any of his comments, but simply acted as if she had never heard them. Sometimes when he touched her face or her waist, she simply acted like his hand wasn't there at all. Soon, Sokolov had stopped any attempt, and treated her like she was a male.

'Ride!' She suddenly heard Sokolov's voice. 'I need 7, 8 and 11 in here, now!'

'Right away, sir!' She shouted back and went to unlock the weeper cells again.

'Oh, and one more thing, Ride!' Sokolov shouted through the closed door. 'You'll have to stay back here for the night, we're almost there and we will be needing your assistance!'

By the end of the day, Emily was tired. It was nine when she finished her dinner and walked up to her chambers to shower and change. Anna Maria accompanied her, and assisted her in changing her clothes and combing her hair. Corvo's duties formally ended at the same time, but he never took an easy way. He stayed awake till ten thirty, patrolling on the Empress' floor, until Anna Maria herself walked out to her chamber beside Emily's and informed him that she was asleep. Then he would linger around for another hour, checking and cross checking the night watch, the alarms and the guards. If he found any guard showing any sign of weakness or fatigue, he immediately dismissed him and appointed a replacement.

After he was fairly convinced that the night watch was tight, he retired to his own chambers, which was at the corner of the floor. It was his own demand to be given a room on the same floor as that of The Empress, so he was well within her reach at all times. Nobody argued with him on that matter, because everyone was convinced that he knew best about The Empress' safety.

That night, he was walking back to his chambers, relieving himself of his duty, when suddenly the vision flashed in front of his eyes again. The vision of the sliced throat, the memory of blood.

He stopped for a second, leaning against the wall, looking at the floor. The symbol on his hand was burning under his gloves, and he winced.

A patrol guard was walking by, and he looked at Corvo.

'Is everything alright, sir?' He asked, stepping towards him. Corvo answered without looking at him, burying his burning hand in his pocket.

'I'm fine, go ahead,' he said, and the guard resumed walking. Corvo waited for a few seconds while the pain passed by. It happened a lot lately, when he wasn't on his duty, his mark would start burning, and would continue to burn for a few seconds, and cease abruptly.

He took a few deep breaths and walked into his chamber. He shut the door behind him and went to the window. He opened it wide, looking out at the city, wrapped in darkness. He could see the black waters of the river, flowing steadily ahead. His chamber was towards the East of the tower, so he couldn't see the Kaldwin's bridge. He sighed and looked down at his hands. He pulled out his gloves and looked at the black mark. A wave of memories flooded him, and he remembered how he felt when he was in The Void : empty.

Like he had no body or weight. He felt like a spirit, wandering through an undefined space. He remembered the black eyes, the deep words.

It had been nearly ten months since he had visited The Outsider's shrines. He couldn't risk doing that now, because the Overseers were already on his tail and were only looking for a chance to pounce on him. But he needed to see him. He had to know why the mark burned like it did, and why Daud haunted his dreams like a spirit.

He turned around and looked at the navy blue carpet on the floor. He took a deep breath and rolled it in until it exposed the wooden floor. He pulled out a plank with his hands to reveal a chest hidden under it.

He held the golden handles and pulled it out, setting the plank back in its place. He set the carpet again with his feet, and gently placed the chest on his bed. He could feel his mark burning again as he walked to the door and locked it up. He then opened the chest to reveal a fist sized mass of flesh.

The Heart.

He held it, and slowly got up. He pointed it out at the window, and closed his eyes.

'They still roam the streets,' the voice whispered in his ears. 'Children are crying in the dark, and the hounds howl at them. Such sorrow.'

He placed his elbows on the window pane, making sure that the heart was in the shadows.

'The ruler of this land cries in the dark, wrapped in robes of silk and chiffon. She is all alone, and alas, only a child.'

He felt a sudden pang of guilt in his chest. He had known for a while now, that when Emily was alone, she wept. He had seen her crying in her bed once, and was about to go in to comfort her, but something stopped him.

'I hear a new voice,' The Heart whispered. 'A woman. Alone in her chamber. I wish you could hear her thoughts. She is sad, angry.'

Corvo looked at the heart. Sometimes it spoke irrelevant things, of people lost in the City, of lonely guards in the night. But all of it was a part of the cacophony, and a story within the city. Sometimes he preferred listening to the stories of strangers, because it somehow comforted him,at least a little.

'Her mother was killed when she was a child. She seeks enlightenment of a sort,' Corvo looked down at the courtyard, but saw no one. 'She works with two of the most brilliant minds of the Age, but tends to the walking dead. Her passion will never be recognised, or appreciated, only because she is a woman.'

Corvo remembered Willow Ride, and pursed his lips. He had always known that there was something about her that kept people away, and that she preferred to stay away from them. He remembered seeing her a number of times before Jessamine was killed. Whatever she did, her face was always the same, like she was incapable of human emotion. Her lips were always a straight line - neither a smile, nor a frown. Her eyebrows were low, and her dark eyes were always busy, because she kept working, and whenever he looked at her, she seemed to be engaged in some type of activity.

She looked like she treated her work more as a distraction, and not simply passion.

'There are disabled people at the foot of the tower,' It whispered. ' They extend their hands and beg for food, but all that falls is a crooked coin.'

Corvo walked back to the chest and carefully placed the heart inside. He sat down on his bed and looked at the sky. It looked just like the vision from his dream, except the fact that the clouds barely moved.

He was afraid. Afraid of sleeping, because he knew that The Master Assassin would return again, and leave another grim message. He knew that he would feel the sensation of having innocent blood on his hands, and see the lifeless eyes of the people he had killed. He felt dirty, like he was covered all over in blood. He wanted to run away, to a place far away where his own conscience couldn't find him. He wanted to be like Willow Ride - incapable of feeling.

Then all his worries would be gone.

He placed the chest back in the floor and undressed. He simply wore his black cotton night pants and lay back on his bed, bare chested. He took a shaky breath, and closed his eyes.

He had expected to find himself blinking through rooftops again, but he found himself in the courtyard, and exactly at the place where Daud had killed Empress Jessamine.

He looked down at the marble flooring, but it was empty. Her grave was missing. He reached for his sword, but his scabbard was empty. He panicked silently as his eyes glanced around.

There were thick creepers growing on the pillars, and even covered half of the floor. In the distance, he could see the tower - it had collapsed. A tall, thick, twisted tree arose from the ruins, and creepers had covered all the rubble. Only a corner of the structure was still intact, covered with Ivy and vines.

'You keep coming back to me,' A familiar voice echoed in a distance. Corvo turned around, and found the man he was looking for. His back was turned to Corvo, and he stood looking over the fencing, hands folded behind him.

'It's you that keeps coming back,' Corvo said, stepping towards him. 'What do you want?'

'What do I want?' Daud asked, without turning back. 'Does my wanting anything really matter? I'm dead,' He rested his hands on the fencing and looked down at the waters.

'Why are you here?' Corvo asked. 'I know I'm not simply dreaming. Then I wouldn't be conscious of whatever is happening here.'

'If you say so,' Daud replied and slowly turned to look at him. He folded his hands behind him again, and walked forward. 'What if you had a second chance at this, Corvo?' He spoke, looking at the collapsed tower.

'At what?' Corvo asked, narrowing his eyes.

'Now you know the aftermath of all you've done,' Daud said, 'You know what you get when you go after blood.'

Corvo clenched his fists.

'What if you could go back in time, and have a second chance to get things done? Would you still chase after blood?'

Corvo's mind reeled in confusion. He had never even dared to think of that part of his life, never. He had avoided it on purpose. He had far more important duties to bother about the past. His eyes widened in the confusion, turning to the floor. It was like the question had set up a series of visions in his mind - the killing of the Empress, the hot branding sword of the Torturer, the burning, glowing mark that suddenly appeared on his hand - and voices in his head, the noise of a few people speaking all at once -

'You'll know what to do, won't you, Corvo?'

'The man's a whirlwind.'

'Corvo, it's you!'

'Sometimes when you come home, you smell like blood.'

'You have done in one night what others would do in a lifetime.'

'Good luck, Corvo. If anyone deserves it, you do.'

'Please don't kill me!'

'I ask you for my life.'

'Something to think over, isn't it?' Daud spoke. 'If you ask me the same, I'd choose to kill your Empress again, and again, and again -'

Corvo clenched Daud's neck, and pushed him against the pillar. He squeezed it slowly.

'Don't you dare!' He yelled at the top of his voice.

'Stop!' The voice wasn't Daud's, but he had spoken it. Corvo's hand loosened for a second, because he recognised the voice. 'Let me go!'

Corvo opened his eyes, and found two eyes - wide, filled with terror. The brown orbs flickered, and then the eyes shut down tight, long eyelashes crumbling in the folds.

He found himself at the edge of his bed, lying on his stomach, his fingers closed around the neck of a familiar form, pressing it against the edge of his bedside desk. Short nails clawed at his wrist and fingers desperately.

Realisation flooded him, and he pulled back immediately, getting out of his covers. He knelt on the floor in front of a crumbled form of Anton Sokolov's apprentice.

She lay on the floor, her back pressed against the table, one hand holding the edge of the bed, drawing in large quantities of air, coughing.

Corvo looked at her for a few seconds, lost in confusion. He then rushed to his study and grabbed the glass of water he had reserved for himself, and handed it to her. Her trembling fingers reached for the glass, and he decided that she wasn't in a state to do anything, so he pressed the glass against her lips. She gulped in a little, and started coughing again.

'What are you - ' he almost mumbled to himself as he set the glass aside. She moved, and placed both her hands on the bed, pressing her forehead against the cold wood, panting.

'Why are you here?' He asked, holding out his hands on her sides limply. He didn't touch her, but she looked like she could collapse any moment, and he wanted to make sure there were no more accidents.

'Sokolov-' she panted, and gulped. ' He wanted - the key to his cabinet - its with Anna Maria. . .'

' It's alright,' he mumbled, and gulped. ' You can speak after you're fine...'

He hadn't yet recovered from the shock, and it was slowly sinking in - he had attacked someone in his sleep, thinking that it was Daud.

He nearly killed her.

'I didn't know - ' he gulped nervously, looking at her. ' Please forgive me, I don't know how it happened, I ...' His voice drifted away as she looked at him, and her eyes were wet.

'Anna Maria had Sokolov's cabinet key,' she spoke in a hoarse voice. She cleared her throat, and continued, 'I came up here to get it, and I heard thrashing from your room, and the sound of something breaking . . . So I looked inside, and saw . .'

She looked away from him, at the floor beside her legs. There lay broken pieces of a glass ashtray.

She cleared her throat again. 'You looked like you were throwing a fit,' she said, looking back at him. 'I wanted to call the city watch for help, but . . .' Her voice drifted away, and her eyes fell down on his hands - on his left hand.

Corvo's eyes widened in realisation. He looked at her for a few seconds, trying to absorb the fact.

'It was glowing,' she mumbled, looking back at his face. Her expression didn't change. She wasn't surprised or shocked or scared, only intrigued. She still knew that it was a sensitive matter, so she said nothing else about it. For a few seconds, her eyes fell on his chest, his sweaty, bruised skin, rough with marks of second degree burns and deep cuts and scratches, and bullet wounds.

She looked away, after noticing the obvious signs of physical torture.

'Sokolov was right . . 'She mumbled, looking at the Mark.

What do you think? Please leave a review!

Next chapter : Corvo speaks to her in person. And a few other things.

Thank you for reading!

xoxoxoxoxo