Five - The Hole In The World

Before I continue I want to thank MDGeistMD02 for the wonderful reviews and support. I tried to make as many corrections as possible, please ignore anything that may have skipped my notice.

I'm totally new to this site, so such reviews make me feel a whole lot better. So thanks for the encouragement!

Enjoy :)

The weepers had been taken care of by early noon, and soon the overseers, watch officers and guards had hoarded up around the tower, chattering and trying to take the situation under control. The court was held after lunch, where the matter of the seven dead aristocrats was brought up, and the matter was thoroughly discussed. Corvo stood beside Emily, watching her intently. She had not yet reacted to Anna Maria's death.

After the court meeting was done, at dinner, Emily barely finished her food. She walked back to her chamber, where her clothes had been ironed and arranged by another maid.

Corvo stood at the door, watching her as she stared at the neatly spread out night gown on her bed.

'Emily . .' Corvo started, and his voice drifted away. He didn't know what to say. She had seen it with her own eyes, the burnt body of her servant.

'There's no Orchid,' Emily mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. She bent down and ran her fingers on the gown. 'Anna Maria always left me an Orchid with the clothes. She said that smelling something pleasant would give me good dreams.'

Corvo simply looked at her, his lips bending in a frown.

'I'll tell the maids tomorrow,'He said, looking at the floor.

'Yes please,' Emily nodded, looking at the clothes. 'Good night, Corvo.'

'Emily, do you want me to stay back?' He asked, stepping in.

'No thank you,' Emily mumbled. 'I need to stay alone for a while. I'll be okay.'

Corvo lingered for a few seconds, and finally closed the door behind him. He glanced at Anna Maria's room, which was off limits. A yellow band had been strapped on her door. Her body was carried away by the guards.

He walked around the corridor, remembering the Whaler he had seen outside Emily's window. He made a mental note to double the guards from tomorrow, because he had a feeling that the incident was just the beginning.

His mind kept thinking about the same matter as he went to his chamber. He placed his scabbard on the table and sat down at the edge of his bed.

He pulled off his gloves and looked at the mark on his hand, flexing his fingers slowly.

He tried to remember the previous night's events clearly, and he realised that he had been slightly drunk. The wine at The Hound Pits had got to him.

He could still recall the warmth of Willow's skin on his fingers, like a fragrance that lingered around the vase even after the flowers had been removed. He could still feel the warmth of her breath brushing against his neck. He could remember the feel of her soft hair in his fingers.

His desire built up again, and he suddenly wanted to feel her, to touch her, to hear her soft breaths against his ear.

He got up and walked to the mirror. He looked at himself, and thought : That is the face of a killer. A brute that chases blood and strikes innocent men in the name of revenge.

Someone like him didn't deserve that warmth. Especially if the object of his desire was someone like Willow Ride. He had threatened her and crossed his limits, but at least he was assured that she wouldn't tell anybody about his mark.

Another thing that bothered him were the two guards on the roof. Guards, especially lower watch guards, were stupid. They assumed and talked and gossiped like noble housewives. He wouldn't be surprised if there was already a rumour going around in the tower.

That was exactly how the rumours of his scandalous affair with the Empress had sparked off, and now the entire kingdom was convinced that Emily was his own blood.

Empress Jessamine and him were close, very close, because he was at the top of the very short list of people that she trusted. They often spoke casually to each other, stayed alone in rooms and shared whiskey. When they were alone, they didn't address each other formally. He couldn't deny the fact that he had definitely sprouted feelings for her, and on a few occasions, she had reciprocated his feelings. But he had restrained himself.

Not like this, he had told himself. Not now. Maybe after we're both old and worn, and when nobody will bother us again, maybe then I can tell her what I truly felt. But not now.

But he never got the chance. It was snatched away from his hands.

Suddenly, a humble knock sounded on his door. Corvo stood up and walked to the door.

'Milord?' He heard the voice of a guard. Corvo opened the door, and the guard bowed.

'A letter for you, milord,' he said, handing out a square shaped envelope, sealed with red wax.

'From?' Corvo asked, turning it over in his hands. It had nothing written on it.

'I have been ordered not to mention, milord,' The guard said, without meeting his eyes.

Corvo looked at the envelope for a few seconds, and dismissed the guard. He walked back inside and closed the door. He sat down at his study and switched on the golden lamp, looking at the small square envelope. He used a pocket knife to pull away the wax and opened it.

There was a folded piece of parchment, and on that was a note scribbled roughly, as if who ever had been writing it were in great haste and were afraid of getting caught.

' When I went in to check the weeper cells in the evening, I found this note stuck to

the wall. It had no name of the sender or any address, but the message that I saw

seemed relevant only if it were meant for you. If its not, still keep it.

I don't like the way it was written.'

Corvo knew at once that it was Willow. He unfolded the hand written letter and found another folded paper within it. He put Willow's note aside and unfolded the second one, and was appalled.

It wasn't really a letter, but simple four words scribbled across the page, but it didn't give the impression that the writer was in haste. It looked like it had been written down using red paint, applying a lot of pressure on the paper, moving the pen slow and steady.

'Now it's my turn.'

Corvo folded it up and placed it aside. He closed his eyes, and the vision from his dream appeared, he could see Daud, at the edge of the roof, his sharp grey eyes piercing his as he spoke, 'Now its my turn.'

Corvo opened his eyes and looked at the note again, and remembered the Whaler by Emily's window. He let out a heavy sigh.

Fate had chased him down again, and he knew these times required him to be ruthless.

His mark burned.

That night, he found himself in The Void. Floating stones assembled in front of him, forming a staircase straight upwards. He climbed the stairs silently, hoping to find the black eyed God at the end. Only he could answer his questions.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he found Anna Maria, her frozen form, falling back onto the floor in panic with the incendiary arrow rushing towards her shoulder.

As he walked further, he found Emily, wide awake in her bed, sitting up, weeping. He felt a pang in his heart as he saw the tears streaming down her face. Behind Emily, seated in a chair and scribbling a note was Willow, on Sokolov's desk. He saw that the bottom desk was open, and found ancient papers and books.

'Its been a long time, Corvo,' The Outsiders voice echoed. Corvo turned around and found him floating in the air, between Emily and Willow.

'After all you've done for the Empire, the Empress,' he spoke, his black eyes looking straight at him,'One would expect you to have, what they call "A Happy Ending", wouldn't they? So where is it, Corvo?' He asked, extending his hand to show Anna Maria and Emily. 'The lonely child weeps in the night, and innocent people lose their lives for unexplained reasons. Turns out, Happy Endings are just myths, and they last for no more than a moment.' He floated towards him, slowly. 'It bothers you, doesn't it? Having innocent blood on your fingers. You keep thinking, if only I could forget. Forget what I've done, then I could protect dear Emily with all my heart.' He gently floated towards Willow, and stopped at the edge of the desk.

'They say there are seven deadly sins that a man should stay away from. Pride, Wrath, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, Lust and Greed.' He looked back at Corvo. 'But a man who stays away from all the seven sins cannot really be human now, can he? For all of them are the basic instincts of humans. They want what they cannot have. They want greatness, money, fame and women. Then how could these be considered sins, I wonder?' He raised his hand towards Willow. 'This lost Philosopher, a sad little creature. Nobody knows it yet, but she holds the secret to a technique that can wipe out fear, pain and agony from One's mind. And what is a man without fear?' He leaned forward, and said, ' Invincible.'

'And Daud,' he said, floating back towards Corvo. 'You keep carrying him on your conscience, Corvo. All the things he has done, I have witnessed and watched with great interest. A few things that he has done, you would be shocked if you knew. But now I see him again, Corvo. I see him standing before me, right now, questioning his own judgement and actions. What will you do now, I wonder?' He floated back gently, keeping his black eyes locked on Corvo's. ' Will you confront this lost apprentice, A master of The mind, The Object of your Desire, and wipe out your pain and fear? Or will you carry this burden to your grave?' He lifted his hands in mid air, and with a smile, said, 'Choose wisely.'

Corvo opened his eyes, and sat up slowly. He looked at the watch.

5:00.

He got out of bed and went into the bathroom, The Outsider's voice still ringing in his ears.

'Not everybody likes what I do, Willow.'

The words echoed in Willow's mind as she sat at the desk, looking at the patterns of the table cloth on Sokolovs desk. She had just finished her lunch, and still had ten minutes to get back to work. Piero was in his room, and Sokolov had gone to the Dining room for lunch.

Willow lay her head down on the desk, and closed her eyes, remembering more of her memories, more of her mother's words.

'But you want to help them, don't you?' Willow asked her mother.

'I do,' her mother nodded, looking down at Willow. 'But not everybody sees it that way.'

'You should tell them you want to help,' Willow said, standing by her desk, looking into her green eyes through her mother's spectacles.

'Oh honey,' she stroked Willow's hair gently. 'We live in a man's world, darling. Nobody pays much attention to us women.'

'But the Empress is a lady!' Willow exclaimed, confused.

'Well,' her mother blinked. 'Except her.'

'Isn't that unfair, mother?'

She looked back at her desk, at the papers in front of her. Her eyes seemed lost, and her short black hair gently fell on her dark cheeks from the side. 'Very unfair, Willow,' she mumbled. 'Very unfair.'

'Ride!' Sokolov's voice sounded in the room. Willow got up and hurried into the main room. 'Back to work! They're getting us twelve more weepers, so you'll have extra work today!'

'Yes sir!' She exclaimed and took her notes in her hand.

During her work, she kept getting distracted in the middle, sometimes by remembering the disturbing note she had found and sent to Corvo, and sometimes by Corvo himself. Fragments of her most recent memories flashed in her mind - how cold his fingers had been when he pressed them against her neck for the first time, and how hostile his touch was. Then she recalled the second time he had touched her, and strangely, his fingers had been soft, warm.

Sometimes she got distracted while thinking about Anna Maria's death, and at other times by thinking about her mother.

She even stopped once and hit slapped herself hard, and forced herself to concentrate on her work. She never got distracted, and she felt like there was something wrong with her.

After the day's work was done, she went straight upstairs to her room, and kept the lights off. She liked the darkness. She went up to the planning room, and in there was the door to the bedroom. She opened it and slowly walked to her bed. It was a small room, with a narrow bed and a bedside table. An ornate mirror hung on the wooden wall in front of her, and the only source of light were two golden lamps on the wall behind the bed. The Eastern wall had a window which showed the river. Two red curtains hung on either side of it.

There was also a wardrobe, in which were seven pairs of her suits and three pairs of her night clothes.

She had deliberately bought the men's night clothing, because the women's type was a full length or a knee length gown, rich with satin or silk, clinging uncomfortably to the chest. She hated it, because at night it kept slipping between her thighs, and made her feel exposed. She preferred the mens range much more.

She had a warm shower and changed into her night clothes, a similar white coloured shirt and black tights. She went to the chest in the corner of the room and unlocked it.

In it was her most priced possession, her mother's diary. Originally, there were seven diaries corresponding to seven years of her life before pregnancy, and Willow had undone the books and Stitched them all together to make an incredibly fat book that was half her weight. She carried it to the bed, grabbed a piece of parchment and sat down at the edge with a pen in her hand.

She heard a loud knock on the door.

Her blood went cold, because she had a feeling that she knew who it was.

She gulped as she heard the knocking again. She walked to her wardrobe and slipped on a thin navy blue robe that she had reserved for such occasions. She tied back her hair in a rough bun and walked down the stairs, switching on the light.

She opened the door slowly by a few inches.

'I need your help,' Corvo said, peeking in through the narrow space.

Willow looked him over thoroughly, a tension building up in her.

'I don't have any weapons,' Corvo said, after he understood what she was looking for.

'Do you mind me asking how long you're going to be here, sir?' She asked, opening the door by a few more inches. Her voice was small, hesitant.

'Well, maybe a thirty minutes?' Corvo mumbled impatiently.

Willow hesitated for a few seconds, and finally opened the door enough to let him in.

Corvo walked in and she closed the door behind her, feeling her heart beat rising. She walked upstairs to the planning room, and he followed her. There was a wide table in the centre of the room, and it was a dark brown. Three chairs were placed around it, and the floor was covered by a maroon carpet. Willow pushed back a chair for him, and he sat down, resting his elbows on the table. She sat on the opposite side of the table, and waited.

'You study about The mind, don't you?' He asked, looking at her. She nodded.

Corvo remembered The Outsider's words, and looked at the wooden table. He looked at her, and it seemed very unlikely that this woman, the timid, professional woman that sat in front of him could hold such a power.

'Would you like something, sir?' She asked. 'Tea?'

'Isn't it a little too late for tea?' It slipped his tongue before he could stop himself. He remembered that night, the way he had acted.

'I think there's some wine downstairs, or maybe Whiskey.' She mumbled and was about to get up, but saw his doubtful expression and stopped.

Corvo looked at her, at her black hair which was falling out from her bun onto a side of her cheek.

'May I?' She asked, looking at him.

'Sure,' he nodded. 'Thank you.'

Willow nodded hastily and went down to the storeroom, and found a bottle of wine, although there was not much in it. She took a glass and went back upstairs, and placed the glass in front of him.

She uncapped the bottle and poured the pale liquid slowly.

'This is all I had,' She explained with a flash of a tense smile. 'Sorry.'

Corvo took the glass in his hand. 'Thank you,' he mumbled, and saw that she sat idly, and asked, 'You don't drink?'

'I can't, especially after what happened,' she cleared her throat. 'It would distract me.'

'Of course,' he agreed, and took a swig. 'About the note,' he started and looked at her. She sat down on her chair nervously.

'Was there nothing else with it? No clue? Did you check around?' He questioned.

'Nothing,' she answered. 'I checked around twice, and found nothing else.'

'Do you know about The Whalers?' He asked her, and she looked at him, slightly shocked.

'Of course,' she said. 'There isn't a person thats not heard of them,' she saw that he had finished his drink, and extended her hands to pour more into the glass, but he shook his head. 'I'm fine,' he mumbled, and pushed the glass aside.

'There was a Whaler outside Lady Emily's window, right after Anna Maria had died,' Corvo said.

'So the note was left by them?' She asked, drawing her hands onto her lap below the table.

'Most probably,' he said. 'But thats not why I'm here, Miss Ride,' he explained. 'As I mentioned before, I need your help.'

Willow looked nervous, and she squared her shoulders for a few seconds as she said, 'with what?'

'It's an important thing, but I'm not sure yet,' he blabbered. 'First I just want to know.'

'About . . .?'

'Do you know a technique that can . . Well . .'

Willow stood up, her hands trembling. She put her palms on the table, feeling a sudden anger and fear. She could remember the past, and it was vivid, disturbing.

'I think you should leave now, sir,' she said in a firm tone.

'Not so fast, no,' Corvo said, standing up, bending forward. 'I need to know. Can you really remove fear and pain from people's minds?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Don't lie to me, Ride,' he said, in a demanding tone.

Willow looked at his face, appalled.

'What is it - some kind of Black Magic? The Outsider's gift?' He demanded, walking towards her, stepping around the table.

'No.'

'So you do know it,' he said, stopping at a foots distance from her.

'I cannot tell you anything much, I'm sorry.'

'You're lying.'

'Its personal.'

'About your Mother?' It slipped from his tongue. She looked up at him, her mouth agape, her eyes glassy and wet.

He sighed heavily and calmed himself down. When he spoke again, his voice was low, and polite to an extent. 'I know she was killed. I do not know how and when and why, but I do know she was killed.' He remembered the secrets The Heart had whispered to him.

'How do you . . .' Her voice trailed away.

'Miss Ride,' he spoke, looking into her eyes. 'You are ambitious. Maybe too ambitious. And if you really hold a secret that could do things like that, then you better give it up to a man.'

She gulped, and a drop of tear rolled down her left cheek, but the rest of her face was gaunt. The tip of her sharp nose turned a faint pink, and the same colour suffused in her cheeks.

'If anybody - even Sokolov - found out that you hold such power, they will hang you. They will accuse you of Witch craft.'

'Why?' She asked, and surprisingly, her tone was firm.

'Well . .' Corvo looked at the table, and sighed. 'I have witnessed it personally, how threatened a man becomes when he finds out that a woman has higher power. I've seen it a hundred times in Jessamine's court,' he had deliberately addressed her informally. 'Besides the Empress, the bastards in court cannot tolerate that thought.'

Willow gazed at him emptily, like she was trying to process everything he was saying.

'Its a mans world,' they spoke simultaneously. He looked at her again, and nodded grimly.

'My mother . .' She sniffed, and looked at the floor. 'She said the same.'

He nodded again, and looked at her for a few seconds. She turned around and sat on the table, still looking at the floor, lost in thought.

A memory flashed in Corvo's mind, only for a second, but it made his heart beat louder, faster. He could see her lips, and remembered the tip of his sword tracing the border of her lower lip, and her gasp, her fear.

'You are right, sir,' she spoke finally, looking back at him. He felt slightly odd that she still addressed him formally, especially after what had just happened.

'Thats how my mother died,' she mumbled, and wiped her cheeks. 'She had the gift . . . Or she developed it. Thats what she told me, that she developed it. And she could make people forget, and she tried to use it to help people, to help children forget about the murders of their parents, to help young victims of rape forget all that pain,' she took the empty glass in her hand, and poured in some wine. She drank the whole of it at once, and gulped it with difficulty. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. 'And they called her a witch. They could have complained to the overseers, but they didn't. They wanted to punish her all by their own.' She put the glass aside and got down. She looked up at him, and moved closer, looking at his hair, his eyes. 'They tied her up to a pole on the street and - ' she took a deep shaky breath, looking down at her hands. 'And they threw stones at her until she died. Then they dragged her body through the street, and burned her at the stake.'

Corvo said nothing, and simply looked at her. He didn't know what to say, even though her story stung his heart.

'My poor mother . . .' She wailed silently and sank back into a chair, burying her face in her hands.

'She suffered . ,'

Corvo stepped back and sat in the chair beside hers, Resting his elbows on his knees, observing her grimly. She cried for a while, her shoulders shaking, tears dripping from the crevices in her fingers.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and reached out for the bottle of wine, and took a swig directly from the bottle. She finished the little that was left, and placed it back on the table. She let her head rest on her hand on the table, looking at Corvo.

'How did you know?' She asked.

Corvo looked away from her, at the empty bottle on the table. He wished there was more of it, because he felt like he would need it.

'The Outsider told me,' he mumbled, looking at his hands. He pulled out the glove from his left hand, and as he looked at the mark, it started to burn and glow. She didn't look surprised or amused, because she had expected the same.

'When we were kids,' she mumbled, almost to herself, tilting her head to look at her fingers. 'Every adult tried to scare us by telling stories about The Outsider. Some of them were very disturbing.'

Corvo couldn't deny that as a kid, he had been afraid of The Outsider as well, but far south in Serkonos, not many people bothered themselves about those legends.

'There was one story about a boy,' she continued. 'They called him The Unknown Kid. He was an orphan, maybe, I don't remember the details. He was a loner, and all his friends teased him. Then one day, Outsider appeared to him and gave him a power to control plague rats, and he used it to kill all his friends. Then he died of the plague, but his last wish was to thank The Outsider.'

'It's only a story,' Corvo said, taking the empty bottle in his hands, reading the labels.

'If The Outsider is really so evil, how can I even be motivated to help his disciples?' She questioned, lifting her head to look directly into his eyes.

Corvo simply looked at her, his mark still glowing. 'Because I didn't choose to be . . . His "disciple",' he said, in a low voice. 'And the way he speaks to me, he doesn't seem to be evil. He's like an audience. He accepts whatever happens, and simply witnesses it.'

'He still told you about the technique I know,' she pointed out. 'Doesn't that mean he's trying to lead you in some way? To interfere in these events?'

'I wouldn't say that.'

'How do I know you're not working for some twisted purpose of his?' She asked, her face gaunt, her eyebrows low. Her dark hair fell on her face from both the sides, and her eyes looked puffy and red.

'Because he doesn't have a purpose. He only speaks to people who have one,' he answered patiently.

She looked him over once, suspiciously. 'What's your purpose?' She asked him.

'To protect Emily,' he spoke. 'To stay by her side and keep her safe while she runs a kingdom.' His eyes were true, unhesitant as he spoke those words. His voice was strong, but soft.

Willow looked at him for a while, and stood up slowly, balancing herself by placing her hands on the table.

'You're a good man, Corvo,' she spoke, her eyes on the table. Her dark hair fell on her sides, so he couldn't see her face. 'But its these "good men" that I see doing some of the worst things in the city.'

'I think I've already done enough bad in my life,' he mumbled, looking at her hair.

She took a deep breath, and pushed her hair back slowly.

'The technique that Outsider told you about,' She spoke, 'It's got nothing to do with magic or anything like that. It's a form of Hypnotism.'

'Whats that?' Corvo asked incredulously. 'I've never heard of it.'

'No wonder,' she said. 'It was discovered only recently, maybe thirty years ago. But The Overseers didn't like it. So it's forbidden, and considered a form of heresy. Nobody, at least not many people have even heard of it.'

'And your mother practiced it?' He asked.

'Well . . .' Willow closed her eyes for a moment, and shook her head slowly. 'Don't say it like that,' she murmured. 'You make it sound like witch craft.' She looked back at the door to her bedroom, and went in. She returned holding her mother's diary, a fat book with pages poking out from the middle.

'This is my mother's work,' she said, showing the book. She opened it to reveal old coffee coloured pages, most of them torn at the corners. The pages held mad scribblings, drawings and a few stuck in notes and pictures.

'The technique was originally discovered by my great grandfather. He passed it on to my mother, and he didn't even have notes or such. He simply told her the basics, and she worked for seven years to master it.'

Corvo leaned in and looked at the pages, the notes and drawings.

'As a child, my mother taught me small ways of hypnotism, like making a person sleep, or making him drink something,' she explained. 'But she practised bigger forms of it.'

'Like?'

'Getting them to reveal their secrets,'She said. 'And also to get rid of their fears and anxiety.'

'Can you do it?' He asked her. He turned a few pages in the book, and said, 'It looks promising.'

'I don't know,' Willow mumbled. 'Its not easy, and not really safe either.'

'Why?' He asked, observing the hesitation in her face. She ran her fingers along her forehead, taking a deep breath.

'It's just not safe,' She said. 'Especially for a person like you.'

'What can happen?' He asked. Willow slowly closed the book, and stroked the hard bound cover. It was an old, brown leather, with irregular stitching along the borders.

'I should sleep now,' She mumbled. 'I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. And I'm also drunk.'

Corvo watched her as she stood up with the book in her hand and went into her bedroom.

'Maybe we can continue this conversation some other day,' She said, closing the door up to a few inches. 'But not now. The elixir is almost done. The city wide Plague reformations will soon commence. And The Whalers are suddenly very active. But if you ask me,' she said, looking at him as he stood up. 'It's best for you if we end this conversation right now, and never speak of it again. After all, I know your secret, you know mine. We're even.' She gently closed the door, saying, 'Good night, Corvo.'

Corvo stayed in the planning room for a while, The Outsider's words still ringing in his ears. As soon as he told Corvo about the way to get rid of the fear and pain, he didn't even bother thinking about the matter. He wanted to get rid of them, and it was least of his concerns how it could be done. He wanted to forget, because he was convinced that they were getting in the way of his duties.

He hated himself more and more when he found his mind drifting away on duty, when the memory of taking a life away made its way into his thoughts. He couldn't afford to get distracted, especially after what had happened recently.

He didn't care if it made him a coward, just because he chose to forget instead of facing it openly. He wasn't really in a state to credit himself about anything.

When he was ready, he walked out of the safe room, and saw the two guards. They sprang up on their feet from the floor and bowed low.

'I don't care what you think about my visit,' He told them, while their heads were lowered. 'But in there is a respectable woman going through a hard time. It'd be best for the both of you if you kept your mouths shut,' he said.

'Y-yes sir. Sorry sir,' the first one blabbered, and nudged the second one in the chest.

'Um, yeah, we promise,' the second one nodded.

Corvo walked across the roof and went back to his chamber.

I hope that kept you entertained. Please leave a review!

Thank you for reading!