//------------------------------// // Chapter 7: The Urchin Prince // Story: Dishonored: A Ruined and Drowning World // by Kleptoshark //------------------------------// Corvo dropped his hand, the sigil on his hand fading to black as the time-bending spell took effect. He staggered into the room, slumping against the doorframe. His wounds had reopened from the journey into the apartments, and his blood felt leaden in his veins. The spectral assassin took a moment to examine the interior of the room. Twilight’s fearful expression was still illuminated by the flash from the pistol. Corvo flexed his hands, knowing he only had enough strength for one more spell. The Lord Protector raised his hand at the Overseer, the Outsider’s mark lighting up once again. Corvo opened his new eyes, having possessed the gold-masked zealot. He could feel the confusion of his host- the Overseer not understanding why his body was acting of its own accord. Corvo was weak before having possessed the Overseer, and the effort of forcing the sluggish host to obey him was a titanic effort in itself. The assassin persevered, knowing that time was literally running out, and managed to force the Overseer to stand directly in front of the purple mare- in the path of his own bullet. Corvo felt himself melting away, his overworked magical reserves unable to maintain his spells. The bodyguard’s body melted from the Overseer, and Corvo’s knees buckled under him. Time returned to normal, and the Overseer let out a sharp yell as the bullet pierced through his back. Twilight stared in shock. All the lavender unicorn saw was an abrupt blur, but she understood what had happened. Both Twilight and the Overseer looked at the front of his uniform, as a deepening splotch of red leeched outward from the middle of his chest. The Overseer’s mask turned back toward her, and for a moment, the purple light illuminated his sad, brown eyes, staring at her from inside of his golden motif, but then he toppled back. Twilight didn’t think as she ran over to his side, trying to accumulate healing magic in her horn. She had asked the Outsider for help- but she hadn’t wanted to kill him! As soon as Twilight started casting the spell, the zealot’s hand flew up, sweeping her legs from beneath her. The religious fanatic rose to his knees, and casually swatted Spike as he tried to help his sister. The Overseer pinned the unicorn’s neck to the flooring, using his other hand to free his sabre from where it was lodged in the wall. “Restrict… the Restless Hands…” The Overseer sputtered, slowly raising the sabre. “…which quickly become the workmates… of the Outsider…” The Overseer coughed, blood seeping from the mouthpiece of his mask and spattering on Twilight’s face. “Unfettered by honest work… they rush to sordid gain, vain pursuits…” The zealot’s sword reached its apex. “-and acts of violence.” Corvo growled, reaching his arm under the Overseer’s left arm and around his neck, and using the other to immobilise the zealot’s sword arm. Twilight scrambled back, and the masked assassin persisted with his head lock, keeping the Overseer immobilized as the bullet lodged in his back steadily sapped away the last of his strength. After a moment that seemed to go on forever, the Overseer’s body relaxed, and the sabre fell from his limp hand. The spectral assassin released the body, and the Overseer’s lifeless form flopped over, his head making a dull thump as it struck the ground. The spectral assassin slumped back against the wall, the last of his strength expended. Every laboured beat of his heart caused another lance of pain to pierce through the numbness of his senses. The unicorn and the dragon sat opposite, merely staring at him with wide eyes. “Who are you?” he heard Jessamine’s voice echo in his head, “To them, you are just another murderer; deeds of violence obscured by a mask.” With numb fingers, Corvo fumbled the buckles of his mask, and pried it away to reveal his face, struggling to ward off the blackness leeching into the corners of his vision. It was Spike who recognised him first. “C-Corvo?” The small dragon asked fearfully, taking a small step toward the spectral assassin. The bodyguard was hardly recognisable. His face was a sickly pallor, and his hair was matted to his face and scalp with glistening sweat. His partially glazed eyes stared out from deep in their sockets, too weak to even plead for help. Spike’s gaze drifted down to the gouge in Corvo’s jacket, which was stained with a deep maroon. The dragon didn’t think twice before running over to Corvo, desperately trying to find some way to stem the oozing blood. He turned back to Twilight, begging her to help. But the purple mare could only stand in shock. All the violence and death had momentarily robbed her of functioning. Corvo was on the verge of passing out. Even as he mustered the last of his strength to fight away the creeping darkness, the arcane assassin could feel himself slipping, his consciousness steadily submerging like an exhausted swimmer- struggling to stay afloat, but drowning all the same. The last of his nerves slipped away into nothingness, and he felt the darkness swarm over his vision. The Lord Protector’s eyes flickered open, and Corvo found himself in the Void, sitting on a fractured chunk of smooth marble tile while an all too familiar deity floated before him. Corvo returned the Outsider’s gaze, waiting. The assassin knew it was useless to speak to the Outsider- the omniscient deity tended to reveal things at his own leisure. “Is this really the way it all ends?” The Outsider mused, “Corvo Attano, Lord Protector, and avenging shadow- bleeding to death in a long abandoned apartment? It’s been a long a storied journey to accompany you on, Corvo. Are you going to exit the stage, just as things start picking up?” The black-eyed deity regarded him for a moment, allowing the silence to permeate fully before pressing onward. “What will Emily do now that you can no longer guide her, I wonder? If you are truly finished, that is.” The Outsider leaned in, staring at Corvo intently. The mention of Emily’s name lit a spark in Corvo, igniting his fury, and coursing through him in a raging inferno of defiance. The Outsider saw this in his eyes, and smiled. “The Void takes everyone, eventually, and time moves on, and as of now there are a few, solitary threads still connecting you to life. Can you grasp these threads, and return to play your part? Or is it really your time to go- to take a bow and let your memory fade as the years pass? It’s time to see what you’re made of.” The Outsider concluded, his chasm-like eyes still gazing intently at Corvo. The spectral assassin broke eye contact with the Outsider, and concentrated. He could still feel a slight tugging, the slight pain from his wounds. He focused, his essence dissolving itself through the Void, like waking up from a dream. He envisioned Emily, and it renewed his strength, his soul burning with purpose, with the will to return from the Void, to reject death as inconvenient, and grasp onto the remaining strings of life. His sight blurred, and the Void started fading melting away like a dream until only darkness persevered. *** Twilight focused another wave of healing magic onto Corvo’s body. Spike had managed to shake the purple unicorn out of her stupor long enough to help Corvo. The purple unicorn’s resolve was failing, however. She had sometimes helped Fluttershy treat bruised animals with magic, but she had never dealt with an open wound- let alone the gruesome slice gaping on the human’s chest. Her magic had sealed the wound, albeit with a violent scar. However, Corvo’s condition didn’t seem to improve. His eyes were fully glazed over, and he didn’t seem to perceive the unicorn next to him, instead his eyes were fixed on some distant point- unmoving. Twilight focused one last burst of healing magic onto the human, and slumped back. “Well, did it work?” Spike asked. Corvo’s eyes shot open, and he gasped, inhaling deeply. “Corvo!” Twilight hugged his arm. “You’re back!” “I’ll live.” Corvo said evenly, running a hand under his jacket and noticing that his wound had been replaced by a jagged scar. Twilight noticed the confused look on the bodyguard’s face. “It wasn’t my best work.” The purple mare admitted meekly, “I-I couldn’t concentrate, there was so much blood-” “You saved my life.” Corvo concluded, “Thank you.” The tone in his voice indicated that no more needed to be said. The Lord Protector eased himself back onto his feet, collecting his thoughts. The general attention to the room seemed to focus on the motionless body of the Overseer, laying face-down in the middle of the room. Corvo gave a small huff and went to the door, leaning out into the hallway to make sure that no other surprises were coming their way. Twilight fell back into her previous state of horrified silence. She had never seen death before; the concept of a living thing being, and then being snuffed all at once. She heard Corvo speak. “The Overseers aren’t known for mercy. I wouldn’t spare much pity on him, if I were you.” The bodyguard said in a monotone. “What?” Spike said incredulously, “How can you say that? You just... you just killed somepony!” “No,” Corvo replied, “he fired the bullet. I only moved him into its path.” Twilight was at a loss for words. The human had indeed saved her life, but at the expense of another’s. How could Twilight claim that her life was more valuable than that of another? The Lord Protector continued speaking, addressing more important matters. “Where’s Emily?” Corvo asked, “I thought you two were with her?” “We… we were separated.” Twilight said with a crestfallen expression. “I need to find her,” Corvo said in an urgent tone, “you can come with me, or stay here, but Emily is in danger, and she needs me.” Twilight briefly analyzed her options, Corvo frightened her, but he was their best chance for getting out of this mess alive. Twilight shuddered as she thought the words- she had never seriously considered her life to be in danger before. Corvo placed his skull-like mask back over his face, and completed his survey of the adjoining hallway. He motioned to a small alcove in which they could hide and wait for him. As they left, he turned to the altar in the corner of the room. Deftly moving to it, the blue lenses of his mask surveyed the makeshift tribunal for a single moment. In a single movement, Corvo removed the engraved whalebone from its spot, and stashed it inside of his coat. The mauve lights surrounding the altar sputtered out in unison, as if their power source had been disconnected all at once. The supernatural assassin lingered in the dark for a moment more before he left to rejoin Twilight and Spike- the sounds of his footsteps being swallowed up in the darkness. Spike winced as he stubbed one of his toes in the darkness. The small dragon and his surrogate sister had been trying to keep pace with Corvo’s quiet, nimble steps. The small dragon couldn’t fathom how Corvo, being at least twice his size, could so quickly traverse the treacherous flooring while making only the faintest sound, and yet every floorboard seemed to groan and creak as he and Twilight stumbled blindly over the rotting and splintered floors in the dark. “I can’t see a thing, where are we going?” Spike asked in frustration. “Not much farther now.” Corvo muttered in reply, failing to answer the purple dragon’s question. Corvo turned towards one of the doors, seemingly at random, and knocked on it. Twilight observed the bodyguard inquisitively as there was no answer. “Emily?” Corvo said in a hushed tone, “It’s me, Corvo, you’re safe now.” Twilight was surprised to hear the sound of a chain-lock being undone, and the door creaked open, almost cautiously. “C-Corvo?” a voice asked from the gloom. “Corvo!” Emily emerged from dark room, almost at a sprint. Corvo sank to one knee and opened his arms. Emily nearly jumped into his embrace, her childish arms hugging his neck. For a moment, time seemed to hold still, almost as if the universe itself was coming back into alignment. Emily was safe, and the world could make sense again. The embrace steadily loosened, bit by bit, until they were making eye contact, with Emily’s small hands clasped in Corvo’s. “Corvo, don’t scare me like that!” She said, her voice suddenly scornful, “You had me worried sick about you, I didn’t know where you were I thought that the Overseers… that you were…” The young girl trailed off, suddenly young and fragile again. “Just… don’t scare me like that again.” She mumbled, her glassy eyes staring into the lenses of her bodyguard’s mask. “As you wish, my Empress.” Corvo said softly. At that moment he would’ve agreed to fight every Overseer in Dunwall, if she had asked. “A touching reunion,” Piero concluded, igniting an oil lantern stashed in the back of the room, “but I’m not sure if the Overseers will agree.” “Right.” Emily took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. “Corvo, do you know the way out?” “Yes.” The Lord Protector rose to his feet, “Stay close.” *** To hear someone describe him, Slackjaw doesn’t seem to fill the part of a notorious crime boss; in fact, Slackjaw’s cream yellow shirt and pink plaid pants secured by a pair of suspender straps makes him out to sound almost clownish. But there was a certain way about how the sinewy crime boss carried himself that commanded respect, and radiated confidence. He had several rings glinting on each hand, and his face was adorned with a pair of neatly trimmed mutton-chops: a pair of well-kempt sideburns arching to join with his moustache. The scrutinous scowl fixed to his features as well as the spatters of blood on his clothing even gave him an intimidating presence. The crime boss was examining a silver-plated lighter, admiring how it twinkled and reflected the light cast by a street lamppost. He decided he’d be able to appraise the lighter better if he polished away the blood left on it from its previous owner. “Hey, boss.” Slackjaw heard a member of his gang attempting to get his attention. The crime boss rose to his feet, tucking the lighter into a pocket. “What is it, Morton?” “I see something moving in the alley.” The gangster called back. “Do you, now?” Slackjaw said in a grim tone, “Let’s show these puffed up knobs who owns this city.” There was a general growl of approval, and the sound of whaling machetes being drawn from their scabbards. Slackjaw strode toward the darkened gap of the alley, expecting to see the gold mask of an Overseer emerge from the side street, but the gang boss was surprised and pleased to see an old friend, instead. Slackjaw immediately called out to him. “Corvo, you old villain! I should’ve figured you’d be here!” the crime boss walked towards him, gesturing with his arms to the detritus and bodies left behind by the skirmish with the Overseers, “ain’t nobody else ‘round here can stir up a good street brawl like you.” “Slackjaw,” Corvo said, smiling with genuine pleasure under his mask as he shook the hand of the gang boss, “I guess this makes us even.” “Hah, very true. It seems that fortune favours the bold, eh?” Most of the Bottle Street thugs, satisfied that they faced no threat from Corvo, busily and studiously went back to searching the dead Overseers sprawled around the blockade. By street rules, anything taken from a dead man belonged to whoever found it, and the thugs busily immersed themselves in the pockets of the dead. All of one thug glanced up at the Empress and her entourage as they made their way back to the rail car. He made a double-take upon seeing Twilight and Spike, but only caught a glimpse of a purple tail before it disappeared behind the closing door of the car. “I need to ease up on the whiskeys.” The gangster grumbled, and quickly dismissed his self-doubt as he discovered a finely crafted pocket watch on the corpse of a dead Overseer. “We found your man here,” Slackjaw said to Corvo, motioning to the aged Watch Officer, who had been moved toward the car and was sitting in the driver’s compartment, someone had helped to bandage his leg, but Hutchins’ aged body wasn’t wearing the injuries well. The Officer’s breath was ragged, and he was obviously in pain. “Will you be able to make it back to the Hound Pits?” Corvo asked with concern. “I’ll be fine,” Hutchins lied. In the attempt to make light of the situation, he motioned towards his broken hand. “It looks like I’ll be retiring early.” He said with a small chuckle. “Well you’ve definitely earned it,” Corvo said evenly, “Slackjaw, help me move him over to the shotgun seat, I’ll drive.” With care, they eased the aged officer over to the side seat, and Corvo traversed back to the other side of the rail car and entered the driver’s seat, but he left the door open to say a final farewell to the gang boss. “Well, watch yourself out there, Corvo.” Slackjaw said. “Indeed,” Corvo concurred, “you too. What’re you going to do next?” “Once we’re done with these cadavers?” Slackjaw asked, casually pointing to the sprawled corpses behind him with a thumb, “We move on to th’ next group of those bastards. The Overseers’ve tried to blockade all the major roads leading away from Dunwall Tower, I’ll have none of it. Funny, y’know, out on the streets we used to say that the City Watch weren’t worth their weight in spit, but now? We need each other to survive.” Slackjaw gave a cynical chuckle. “One last thing,” Corvo said, “how did you know we’d be out here? And that we’d need help?” “You underestimate my resourcefulness, Corvo.” The gang boss said cryptically, “But you’re right. I was tipped off by a… shall we say, silent partner? Now, I’d tell you… but you’ll find out on yer own soon enough. Besides, why ruin the surprise?” Slackjaw gave another huff of laughter. “Now get going. And give all my best to those lazy bastards down at the Hound Pits.” Slackjaw watched as the rail car pulled away into the dark, briefly becoming illuminated by each lamppost before it finally disappeared from view. “Er, boss?” One of the gangsters piped up, having finished with the corpse he was searching, “Are we really gonna have t’ clear out the other roadblocks? I thought the other bosses were s’posed to take care of ‘em?” “Well, they’re at a disadvantage. They’re relying on the City Watch to pull their weight.” Slackjaw replied sardonically, he then turned back to the rest of his gang, raising his voice. “So get yourselves together, you fat louts, we’ve got a lot more pigs t’ slit before the night’s through!”