Many legends span among the Vikings especially. Mostly of brave warriors accomplishing feats far beyond what is humanly possible, in an attempt to prove themselves worthy of Valhalla, the Hall of Heroes. The concept fascinated him, especially given its similarities to the Elysian Fields the Knights were much more familiar with…
The circumstances were different, with Elysian being obtained through participation in certain rituals, while Valhalla had to be earned in combat, but the baseline was the same. A place where the souls of those who deserved it, gathered to enjoy the spoils of their lives. Religion was a powerful force, one that could shape another person's goals and beliefs, if indoctrinated enough. He had to respect that kind of power, even if Corvo himself wasn't really in touch with his inner faith that much. The one thing his master hadn't managed to properly teach him. Point is, the people in these legends were widely known throughout all of Heatmoor, but what was there could be considered a fantasy in the best case scenario, given the tendency to exaggerate and general lack of details typical of said tales.
So, when one of those legends allegedly presented himself in front of his eyes, he dared not to voice his many doubts. Especially because of who he was.
Highlanders were notorious for being a very… reserved order, to say the least. He had met stoicism before, even incarnated those concepts for a very long time…
But the absolute and complete lack of any emotions in the man's eyes and face were concerning, to say the least.
Especially when one would pose their eyes on his arm, which was cut so deep that he could see the bone. And yet, not even a single wince from his patient. Not a mere whisper of pain or muttered curses. Absolutely nothing.
Just a quiet request to be patched up as best as possible. Which he wasn't sure he could grant. He had seen worse, no doubts about that, but he was almost certain that the arm itself was unsalvageable.
But still, it was a direct request, as such he had to try his best. He was gonna have to bring out the good stuff…
The silence was almost deafening. While he would have appreciated it normally, this wasn't… natural, he supposed he should call it. The Highlander refused to speak further than that initial request, not even when prompted or even asked questions.
Only Dagur had managed to make him reach this level of sheer anxiety, and that had been almost ten years prior. He just chalked it up to a Viking thing, at this point…
He didn't even know the man's name… but while he worked, his attention shifted briefly to his weapon. His Gaelic was somewhat rusty, having been too busy rebuilding and then preparing for war to refresh his memory… but he managed to translate the runes on the mighty Claymore after a couple of minutes or working the gears in his brain.
"Andraste…"
A grunt resounded. Finally! A reaction!
The myth of the Highlander Andraste came to his mind. The one that had managed to quell the infamous Lachlan with her blessed sword.
That was definitely the weapon. It was much too impressive to not be it. The issue was…
Andraste was supposed to be a woman, right?
He heard a sigh, followed by a rumbling voice.
"Of all the healers in Heatmoor, I just had to run into the only one that could have figured it out. I should have paid more attention to the rumors… what an unfortunate coincidence…"
He had many questions. Like a lot. Chief of all, the fact that there apparently were rumors about him.
Having been apparently discovered, "Andraste" shifted slightly, allowing him to work better on the arm, while he spoke.
"I presume that you have heard of the legend. Allow me to sate your curiosity then… my name is not Andraste. That… is the name of one of our goddesses of war, courage and victory. She is my patron, and I am her agent in the mortal world".
A patron goddess? He found that hard to believe…
"I know that it sounds ridiculous… but that is where the rest of the story comes in. I was… a wandering mercenary, one could say. Doing every job that I could find to earn some coin. No task was too low or too dirty for me. I became known as a dishonorable killer, who only cared about survival and nothing more…"
That… sounded familiar. Where had he heard that story before…
"Until she appeared. She had seen my strength, wishing for me to become her champion, but required me to… become more humble, I suppose that is the term. I had no idea who she was, back then. We fought… and she killed me. On my dying breath, when I had been successfully quelled, she blessed me with her power, immortality and gifted me that blade. The same one that she used to fight me".
His brain fried for a mere second, before quickly starting to work in overdrive. Andraste was the name of the goddess, who apparently found and slayed a wandering warrior, in order to have him become her champion. A man whose nature was so self fulfilling to become infamous, but that ended up inheriting the same blade that killed him…
It sounded like…
The Highlander smiled lightly.
"You caught on?"
"You… you are Lachlan, aren't you?"
Lachlan nodded.
"That is my name, yes. It has been a long time since I've last heard it. The myth is true… but its meaning has been muddled by history and ignorance. It has been quite a long while, after all… I wouldn't expect anything else".
Corvo raised an eyebrow.
"How long?"
His patient smiled once more, getting back up.
"I am afraid that you'll have to figure that one yourself. Of course, it is a given, but tell no one about what you just learned today, will you? It is not the time for me to reveal myself just yet…"
He turned to walk away. The healer almost called him back, for he was not done working on the arm…
Only to look at it and find it mostly healed already.
Lachlan chuckled slowly.
"I have been blessed, Oathkeeper. And so have you, even if you do not realize it yet. This is not the last time we'll see each other, young one. Do take care, your patron would be most displeased if you were to die before the time has come".
Oathkeeper…? He blinked once, finding himself once again alone. No trace of Lachlan, or the Claymore that he brought. He started to think that he had gone insane…
The only thing that was left was his flask of alcohol, still open and empty in his hands…
And none of it was on the floor. Just as Corvo was about to call himself insane, someone poked their head through the tent.
"Ah! There you are! Been looking for you!"
The healer blinked, coming back to reality.
"Stone? Sorry, I was distracted… do you need something?"
The Conqueror merely walked up to him, slapped him on the back and started dragging him out of his tent.
"Your sweetheart sent me to fetch you. Our bard is finally done with that project they've been working on for the last three years! A complete reiteration of the Great War that ended ten years ago!"
Corvo blinked.
"That story again? It's already been more than enough documented…"
Stone laughed.
"Ah my friend! This one is special! Our bard traveled all over Heatmoor to gather the proper knowledge to prepare this story! They even reached Valkenheim on foot, absolute insanity if you ask me! All so that to make sure to properly honor the protagonist of this tale!"
The healer turned king blinked again.
"Protagonist? What in Diana's name are you rambling about, Stone?!"
The Conqueror grinned, staring at his friend right in the eyes.
"Why… the story of Oathkeeper Corvo and his journey towards the end of the tyranny, of course!"
Hello?! Is this thing on?! It is?! Noice. Welcome back, dudes and gentleladies, to another episode of AHO, where we get just a lil bit of supernatural.
In the end, the information that I found was polarizing. Some confirmed the female Highlander, some said that the "her dying breath" referred to a female Warden (?) apparently being killed by the Highlander, some other just said that it was an error in translation and much more. In the end, I decided to say "fuck it" and give my personal spin to the whole thing when I discovered that Andraste was one of the names of a Celtic war goddess, adding in that little bit of supernatural that never misses. It also seems like Corvo has been unknowingly making a legend of his own, through all of his misadventures. It all starts with a story…
Review Responses:
LiterateSaint: Thank you, the affirmation means a lot! I'm also happy that I decided to continue, even when sometimes I felt like giving everything up. Our fandom is small, but we stick to our guns damn it!
Next time on A Healer's Oath: Ryoshi, the Aramusha
That's all folks! Ta-ta for now!