The transience of all things worldly and other had been a constant given during my life, and long reign after that; it shouldn't have been a surprise when my debt was due. I hadn't quite taken the situation seriously, and now… There were unforeseen consequences. 4000 years of misery, birthed in misery, at last ending in misery. How often I had considered myself ready to fade from this wretched plane of existence. Centuries of slow burning bitterness coursing through my metaphorical body, like the sting of bile rising up one's throat. What I hadn't been ready for however, was the unexpected turn of events that occurred following my attempted assassination. Something even I hadn't been able to foresee. But here I was, my skin sticking in patches to the dirty cobblestone streets and the rain relentlessly beating down on my newly acquired physical form. My figurative bile entered reality by splattering onto the slick road in several gut-wrenching waves, mixing in with the redness pooling from my stomach.

The sound of thunder ricocheted off weathered bricks, towering over my frail being. Ominous figures, they silently witnessed my pathetic suffering. The hard-edged cobbles ripped into me like teeth into ripened fruit, leaving tissue to lay scattered across the street—only to be replaced by the grating sludge that rose from between. As the waves of nausea subsided, I decided it was just as well. I found myself staring into a quickly forming pool of water, and what was most likely excrement thrown out into the rank poverty-stricken streets. Two pale green eyes stared back at me. Those eyes had gazed upon a world not so different from this one, a world equally as unjust and bent. They had cried for a mother that had no longer been there and a father who had been sickeningly cold blooded and cruel. Those things were but distant echoes of another lifetime, of course. With great effort and a few cracking joints, I hoisted myself up against the nearest wall, not minding the discomfort of the jagged bricks as I rested my head, gaze turned skyward. It was then that the outline of a dark figure, barely recognisable as such, poked out from behind a blackened chimney.

Lovely.

I closed my eyes as a wet thud resounded from just a few meters away. They stayed there, silently watching me as if uncertain I was even real. Seconds rolled by like centuries and I was inclined to speak first.

"I wonder…" The words rolled off my tongue in a sarcastic drawl. "What will an Empress do, faced with the possibility to be the saviour of the people she so eagerly sets out to please?" I needn't open my eyes to know she'd been shocked at the sound of my voice. "The supposed destroyer of all dark magic in this world… Easy pickings at a chance of false victory painted in the blood of a man most despised." I could sense her eyes searching me, checking if what she saw was yet another one of my illusions or something else entirely. As time passed, and nothing but silence and the wet slaps of rain filled the air, I turned my gaze to confront the Empress.

I could barely make out the widening of her eyes coupled with a sharp intake of breath. The Empress stood there, surveying me as she would something strange and elusive from the far ends of Pandyssia. Had I been in the Void I would have disappeared to escape her gaze; sadly, I wasn't. Thus I found myself pushed down into the wet street by the gravity of this world. The clothes that stuck to my skin heavy from the rain and blood that seeped into them.

The Empress appeared to have realised she'd been staring, finally clearing her throat before continuing to speak. "My magi- your magic," she started, taking off a glove, baring to me a perfectly clear patch of skin that had once been decorated by my dark gift. "It's gone." Her eyes searched mine for an answer, implored for an explanation; one she hoped I was capable of delivering. But my throat had run dry, breath in short supply, and the image of her danced before my eyes. She hesitated for a moment, not sure what to make of my silence, of my drifting gaze and rolling neck.

I don't know what happened next. But I could take a guess as the warmth of two nurturing hands, the likes of which I had long been denied since the first gasp of putrid air filled my lungs and my supposed last had escaped them, replaced the cold. And so, as lights danced, died, and sparked into life again behind my lids, I felt the stinging in my stomach flare to a crescendo as I was hoisted up and carried off to the Void knows where. Deft feet used to the slippery streets pounced as they sprung from roof to roof. I felt the life slowly leaking from this vessel, this body of mine. A body I hadn't inhabited for over 4000 years. Sensations entirely foreign to me—pain, sleep—overtook me until finally there was nothing again but the peaceful darkness I'd grown so used to.

I awoke to the warmth of a fire, and the harsh texture of what was most likely a wooden floor imprinting tender skin. I lay in a stuffy old room, wallpaper peeling off weathered walls in long curling strips. Through the gaps of the boarded-up windows lay an inky blackness, suggesting it was still night. Dressed in nothing but my pants, and covered in a ratty blanket, sparks filled my blurry vision as I tried to crane my neck to see where the Empress had gone. With a sharp intake of breath, I readied myself to sit up, annoyed by the fragility of this thing that was my body. More spots filled my vision as I pulled myself from my previous position into the next, followed by a startled flurry of feet and hands that came to support my back.

I bit back frustration as I glared at the Empress, who'd abandoned whatever it was she had been doing to help me steady myself, hands splayed out across my back and chest, lending me the much-needed. Their warmth seeped into my skin, and suddenly I felt suffocated. 4000 years of floating around in the Void, not much more than a whisper of my human self, meant I was currently dealing with a sensory overload.

"Please. Don't ." The words came out through gritted teeth.

She scrambled back at the words—looking at me with big dark eyes, darting between my own in search for answers. I wasn't intent on meeting her gaze however. The first time her eyes had met mine, I'd noticed the minor shift in her focus: the way she stared straight into me—no longer walled off by the Void's black glare—and thought her own incomprehensible thoughts.

"What happened?" she asked at last, voice quivering ever so slightly.

My throat felt like sandpaper as I set my focus on the flying embers of the nearby fire, instead of her questioning gaze. "An old man once asked himself that very question as his estranged children plunged the cold end of a knife between his ribs. It didn't prevent him dying, nor did it grant him any wisdom."

"Are you serious?"

"Had he been aware of the consequences that followed his actions, perhaps reflection upon his mistakes might have occurred before the knife drank his blood."

"Alright, listen," the Empress said, pinching her nose. "We don't have time for this. My magic is gone, and I'm assuming you're not feeling quite as perky yourself."

"What makes you say that?"

With an exasperated sigh, she motioned to my abdomen. "I don't know, perhaps it was the gaping wound in your stomach I had the pleasure of closing—or maybe," she deadpanned, thickly exaggerating the emphasis on the last word, "it has to do with the fact that you're physically here, looking human, and on the verge of very humanly dying."

It was then I noticed she had indeed closed and bandaged the gaping wound that had decorated my skin, clothes folded in a neat bundle beside me. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you fix it?" I implored sourly as my gaze trailed a particularly intriguing ember that floated off the fire. The air had taken on a smoky quality, the licking flames consuming what one might assume to be an old chair.

Sharp nails dug into my cheeks, thin fingers forcibly gripping my face. "Look at me," the Empress breathed. "This is serious."

My eyes reluctantly met hers, a primal feeling echoing within me, like a distant call from centuries ago. Images of another hand gripping and digging into my skin, nails blackened with grime collected underneath in the wake of neglect. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel a layer of moisture collecting on my bared skin. I set my jaw as I stared her down, the unfamiliar feeling of anger bubbling within me, burning and eating at me like the fire ate the worn chair, until it was nothing but ashes.

"It doesn't matter. What has been done is done," I replied stonily.

"Okay, but how do we undo it?"

"There is no we." I scrunched up my nose. "I'm the last person to feel inclined to fix this crooked Empire of yours."

She narrowed her eyes at that.

"Please. Stop. Touching. Me." The words were clipped, eyes pointedly looking at the hand still locked on my face with a firm grip.

"Fine." She retracted the offending limb. "But you need to stop with the 'woe is me' attitude, and please, at least try to explain to me how I can fix whatever has been done to mess things up." She paused for a moment, licking her lips before continuing. "The whale oil isn't functioning normally. There have been... problems."

I sighed as I lay back down again—bothered by skin pulled over protruding bones, bearing all of my weight with nothing to cushion them.

"I don't see how this relates to me exactly," I spoke, allowing the words to fester in my mouth before pushing them out.

"You're part of the Void—were part of the Void. Weren't you? You were the source of magic in this world. Whales are also a part of that magic, are they not? Which means you being here might have upset some balance." Sentences tumbled out like rats from a carcass. I wasn't used to her talking this much. I wasn't used to anyone talking this much. I usually did the talking.

I fixed my gaze back to her before thinking about what she said. None of it mattered; my stay in the Void was never meant to last. My time had come, and I sure wasn't going back there just to save the Empire. The Void wouldn't last forever either way, one day it would devour all the lights in the sky—that much was known. Perhaps that day had come already. I had watched and observed as the centuries passed like seconds. As those upon whom I had bestowed my gift more often than not used it as a means of power, of dominance over the lesser and more vulnerable. It was all the same...

Perhaps, apart from this girl and her father before her. They were the rare exceptions, the ones breaking the rules of human design. Justice served in mercy. Even Delilah had been on the receiving end of more grace than she deserved. They had been unexpectedly intriguing. I recalled a young girl, surprised at finding herself stranded in the depths of the Void, and something tugged at my gut, convincing me that helping was the right thing to do. But since when had I cared about doing the right thing? Had I not been equally guilty of dancing in this world's decay, once accompanied by the shrieking laughter of Vera Moray as I'd watched her cut her husband piece by piece, like many before her—like Delilah, bending the world to her cruelest whims and wishes thanks to me?

My eyes flitted to the Empress's face, her features heavy with worry for what was to happen. I recognised that look, had seen it on many years ago.

Perhaps I owed her, if only just a little. I wet my lips before I spoke, careful with my words. "You helped me with Delilah not too long ago," I started, observing the way she sucked in a sharp breath. "I can do you this one small favour, but know I do not carry the answers you're looking for."

Her features lit up, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of her lips. But as fast as the expression had come, it made way for a more serious one. "Do you think you can move?"

I experimented, bending this way and that, rotating my arms and torso. Although it hurt to do so, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. So I nodded, and the relieved smile returned. She grabbed the stack of clothes, dumping them into my lap.

"We can't have anyone else knowing you're here—alive."

I agreed, but also feared it might be too late already. There were groups out there that were bound to know I'd disappeared.

"First things first, we need to get back to the palace. I can keep you in my Safe Room now that you're conscious and able to sneak in with me. We need to get you some proper food, attire, and the right documents." She checked the streets below, assessing if there were possible threats to our persons nearby.

Apparently satisfied, she turned and motioned for me to come. Much to my dismay, she expected me to sneak out alongside her. Years of floating around in the Void did nothing for one's climbing skills, let alone reflexes. I was sorely reminded of that fact during our scale up the roof. The Empress pulled herself up with ease—but I struggled. Weighed down by the painful stinging of my recently closed wound, and weakened by the fact that I'd been figuratively dead for over 4000 years, hers was a tough act to follow. She sent me a few worried glances, but I kept my features as stoic as ever. I vehemently refused to show my apparant weakness.

Soon we reached the ledge of her royal quarters, the high-arching windows left open. The Empress gestured for me to enter, eyes tracking my movements as I stepped inside. This wasn't the first time I had seen this room. I had gazed upon it before—however, this was the first time I was physically there, able to take in the smells and textures of the surrounding furniture. I allowed my hands to trace the rough edges of her furniture, surprised by the softness of silk. Sensations that had been foreign to me, even during my original life.

The Empress stood and watched, my eyes tracing the delicate pattern that decorated the draperies, woven into them with care and patience. Old worn hands had most likely spent a lifetime mastering the art of needle and thread, reaching the peak of their mastery shortly before old age became too much and left them stiff and trembling, worthless to today's economy.

"I'll call for the kitchen to bring us some food," the Empress spoke as she moved past me, heading for the intercom.

I nodded at her words. Here in the cleanliness of her room, each scent stood out. The air was pleasant and soft, and as she passed I picked up the same sweet scent that I had smelled on my own garb earlier.

Carefully, I allowed myself to sit down on the bed, joints and muscles burning from exertion. I had a lot to think about: how this was even possible, for starters. My mortal body had died the moment my blood had spilled from my throat so very long ago. I remembered the sensation of my own heart pumping the fluid into the air in gruesome tides with each erratic beat. It should not be possible for me to be alive now; I was the embodiment of the Void made up of magic, held together only by stone. I tried my best to recollect what exactly had happened in those final moments, when Lurk had crossed her way through the Void. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I only came up blank. All I knew was that something had gone wrong, most likely for both of us.

I felt the Empress's eyes on me before she spoke. "This is definitely something I never expected," she started, sitting down next to me. The mattress dipped under her weight, our thighs just inches apart.

Too close.

I met her gaze this time, challenging her with now eerily human eyes in an attempt to throw her off, to reinstate some of the distance that was lost the moment I had traded the solitude of the Void for this world. It had the desired effect; she looked unsettled.

"I'm sorry, it's… strange." Her eyes darted between my own, uncertain which to focus on. "I'm not used to seeing you looking so…" I raised my brows, but she appeared to be at a momentary loss for words. "Normal."

But I wasn't normal, was I? Even now, with the essence of the Void ripped away from me, green eyes as pale as mine were a rarity among the folk of Gristol. There were plenty of people sporting the common blues and browns, but for a shade so close to white as mine... You'd have to travel the isles to the most desolate reaches of places.

As I watched and noted the flecks of gold that swam in her own curious eyes, I realised I had no idea who I was anymore, and questions only led to more questions. Sometimes—more so than I'd like to admit—the answers terrified me. I had been okay with just dying, skipping this mortal part and heading straight for the end. I hadn't desired to figure out my place.

The Empress broke away from my gaze, thoughts swimming in her eyes like words from another language. I had become a master in the art of observing; I had witnessed the very core of humanity as it violently fought for its place in this world. But never had I had the chance to come close enough to understand the thoughts of a single human, to recognise each passing emotion as it sparked to life and died in an instant. And now I found that, perhaps, I had been robbed of something exquisitely interesting, as this language I didn't understand filled me with a newborn curiosity for humanity itself.

It was then that a short knock interrupted the moment. In a matter of seconds, the Empress stood, hurriedly making her way towards the double doors, peeping out before opening them to accept the dinner she had called for. She thanked the obscured maid, returning with a silver cart containing several dishes. Parking it at a nearby table, she carefully arranged the food and drinks before biting her lip and returning to look at me. I sat, watching her, awaiting her next words.

"This is for you," she offered, gesturing at the food.

Eating was a strange new habit, something I hadn't done for centuries. Stranger were the Empress's eyes, watching my every move as she sat across from me.

"I never noticed before," she spoke up after a while, "you look so tired."

I didn't respond, picking away at what was left of my meal.

She continued nonetheless. "I feel like you're looking so much worse than when I found you."

I scoffed at that, of course I would; there was sickening wound on my abdoment that hurt with every breath I took.

"I'm serious..." she hesitated, weighing her words. "What if you're not meant to be alive?"

I snorted. "Great, all according to plan."

She slapped my arm, and I winced at the intensity of the sensation.

"No, not great! We don't know what happens if you do actually die. It could mean the end of all things." She stood and started pacing. My eyes trailed her movements, hand rubbing my assaulted limb, nerves burning from the brief contact. "What if you're in some sort of limbo, not quite alive? Perhaps that's why the whale oil is just acting strange instead of completely losing its powers."

"So what you're saying is I should be worried about corpse smell—worst case scenario?"

"What I'm saying is we need to get to the bottom of this before you die!" She threw her hands in the air. "For all I know it could be a matter of days or years; we don't know how fast the process goes."

I observed a crack in the carefully polished floor, mind deciphering what she was saying. My assassination had clearly failed in the literal sense of the word, but now it appeared I was to die soon anyway. Perhaps immortality came at a price—a steep one. How I had taken on a physical form was already beyond me, now this form operated by an unknown set of rules too. We were in for a race against the clock as the world's fate hung by a thread—which sounded compelling enough to catch my interest.

"So now what, Your Majesty, we visit the Void doctor and have him do Voidoo on me?"

The Empress lifted one of her arched brows. "Did your sense of humour die along with you all those centuries ago?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, which was quickly followed by a tired yawn. How had I not noticed how heavy my eyes had felt? My head filled with static, the room spinning around me. Before I could understand what was happening my vision faded to black.

When I regained consciousness, I heard the sounds of harsh whispers, hushed tongues. For a moment I didn't know where I was or what was happening, but memories of the previous night quickly came flooding back.

"Listen Emily—I know, alright, I could have made my return sooner, of course! I could have at least made an effort." An angry voice arose. "But this? This is how you lash out? By the Void, Emily!"

"Wyman you don't understand, please calm down," the Empress hurriedly whispered to the person I recognised as her lover.

"No I think I do understand Em," Wyman grunted. "I thought we had an understanding, thought that was what you needed: time and patience. Yet here you are..." I could hear the anger rising in their voice, mixing through dulcet tones like poison.

"Wyman, that is not at all what happened!" Emily exclaimed.

"Save it, Em." They spoke with an unquestionable finality. "You never take anyone here, ever—except for me."

I realised I was lying on top of something soft. Looking around, I recognised the Empress's Safe Room, where she must have hidden my unconcious body away. I quickly turned and came face to face with the one I had occasionally seen before, far away in the safe and distant shelter of the Void.

Wyman stared directly at me, and as their gaze locked with mine I could make out the slight widening of their blue eyes. My joints cracked and popped as I hoisted myself to a sitting position. I noticed the white of Wyman's knuckles, the stressed tendons tight with tension. My eyes then flitted to the Empress, deciphering the way she was watching me: the strained set of her jaw, fresh lines marring her face. Lines that hadn't been there the night before. I stood, noting the way I towered over both of them. A heavy silence had settled, Wyman in an obvious state of indecision.

At last I broke it, the deep sound of my voice echoing off the walls a definite reminder of my physical being. "One takes witness to their lover in a setting so blatantly questionable to their virtue," I spoke slowly as I wet my lips, inching closer to the pair. "One unquestionably faithful might have bestowed upon their trusted lover the same faith received." I paused, coming to a stop in front of the Morley noble, hands clasped behind my back. "What does the assessment of a situation unclear say of the assessor, so biasedly critical?" I questioned, tilting my head whilst maintaining eye contact. I could distinctly hear the erratic beat of Wyman's heart, robbed of its usual rhythm. Blue eyes darted from me, to the Empress—stress flowed through a thickened artery, pulsing on a forehead beginning to pebble with sweat. I surveyed it with curiosity.

"Wyman... what is he talking about?" the Empress implored, suspicion painting her voice, eyes drifting to me as if I had been the one questioned.

"Em, listen... You need to understand-" the Morley noble started, before I interrupted them. I was no longer immortal; I did not have the patience for these conflicts.

I raised my chin, looking down on the pleading paramour even further. "What I mean is that three weeks and four days after Delilah's coup, our Morley noble warmed their belly with rich Tyvian wines, their tongue with poems of a broken heart, and last but not least, their-"

"Enough!" the noble interjected, voice rasping. "Enough, please!" They turned to the Empress, trapping her delicate hands in their own. "Em please, I would never do that to you... I thought you were gone, thought I'd never see you again, I didn't mean-" Their hand shot up, knuckles tenderly caressing their lover's reddened cheek as a single tear traveled down. "I love you, Em."

The Empress closed her eyes, pulling back from the contact. Wyman made another attempt to reach out but was met with more distance. Their soft pleas went unanswered until at last the Empress opened her eyes again, amber depths burning.

"Out. Please." she pleaded in clipped tones, turning her back to the noble who had been her lover, her confidant—her future.

Ever the soft one, Wyman nodded. Their eyes reflected a weary sadness, like an old wound reopened. "I understand." The sentiment was softly spoken, accepting that they had wronged the one they loved in a way that would be hard to forgive. Sending me a last questioning look, the noble stepped out, closing the door behind them with a soft thud.

I stood watching the space they had inhabited not too long ago, mentally dissecting the events that had just passed. I was ripped from my thoughts by a soft bundle, thrown at me. When I turned to look, my eyes met something akin to clothes. Except these were far superior to the garments of the everyday man. These were rich silken robes only royalty could afford.

"Get dressed, we need to start planning." As the Empress spoke, the sadness that had been apparent earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by sharp movements and overly pronounced syllables. I looked her up and down, surprised at her eagerness to brush aside whatever she'd been feeling.

"What about what just happened?" I asked, intrigued.

She shot me a hard look before she continued moving around the room, searching for the Void knew what. "It doesn't matter," she replied.

My eyes followed her, head turning to keep track. "You love them." It was more a statement than a question.

The Empress stopped for a second, back turned to me, before slowly meeting my gaze. "I do."

I wanted to know, to understand; what was her pain? She read something in my eyes—she must have—as understanding dawned on her features. "It doesn't matter. Whether I love them or not, whatever I feel is wasted in a dying world."

I stood there silently, her words not quite settling in. What had shown on my face for her to read and understand so accurately?

"You still look tired," she commented from across the room, and my eyes snapped back to her moving form. She appeared to be arranging a stack of papers that lay sprawled across a desk. Thumbing through them, she seemed to decide on a few notes. Plucking them from their place, she moved them to the side untouched by paperwork. "But I can tell you're young." Apparently satisfied, she returned to where she had stood: a mere meter away from me, the smell of her perfume wafting off her in thick waves. Her amber eyes scrutinised me, traveling the planes of my face.

I felt my heart hammer in my chest, self-conscious, unable to escape her gaze. Love was a fickle thing, I knew; I had seen what it did to even the soundest of minds. The lengths people would go, the sacrifices they'd make... All in the name of love. Love was as big a mystery to me as I was to the common folk. I had never experienced romantic love during or after my lifetime. Perhaps I had died too prematurely to understand it..

"If you'd ask me, I'd say you're in your twenties."

"What?" I had all but forgotten the Empress and what she'd been talking about.

"We'll have to have you checked out by a physician. See how your body functions."

I nodded, not truly listening, too preoccupied by her nearness. A sense of relief flooded me as she finally stepped away, continuing her business. She ascended the stairs to her bedroom, and I could hear a faucet turn, followed by running water. The Empress emerged again, directing me to follow her.

As I turned a few corners, the robes she'd thrown me in hand, I noticed a large tub, water streaming into it. The room was grand, walls covered in wooden panels. Multiple worn rugs covered the floors, protecting it from the water. A mirror was attached to a desk, reflecting the light that streamed in through multiple windows.

"You can wash up and do what you have to do to get ready," the Empress spoke, turning to leave again. "I have several pressing matters to attend to before we'll be able to carry on with our planning."

I nodded as she left, turning to the bath, watching the soap collect where the stream hit the rising water. I kicked off my pants and other articles of clothing, throwing them to the floor nearby. When I unbuttoned my blouse, I was met with the clear white of bandages covering my stomach. I turned to inspect myself, a large mirror revealing my reflection. I was gaunt, made of skin and bones like the beggar I'd been once. My muscles and tendons lay heavily defined beneath pallid skin, like the wires of a machine. I watched them ripple under the tension I supplied, as if coming to life at my command. I had never truly looked at myself, especially not once I inhabited the Void. Looks had been unimportant then.

Shaking my head, I turned to the bath, abandoning my reflection and the distant emotions it had stirred. I closed the faucet, allowing myself to sink into the warm soapy water, careful as I submerged the bandaged part of my body—the wound stung at the contact. The heat of the steaming water was quickly soaked up by my skin, it's warmth strikingly opposed to the constant cold of the Void.

I rested my head against the edge of the basin, closing my eyes, feeling that same drowsiness as the night before take over. I could hear the sounds of bickering birds through the windows, their wings hitting the panes. Taking a deep breath, I sank to the bottom of the tub, head submerged in warm liquid. As I lay there, in a different kind of world, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. I enjoyed the hungry burning of my lungs, begging me to gasp for air. In the distorted world of the water, I could hear my heartbeat clear as day. Life. There was so much life in me. I hungrily drank in the feeling of my body fighting the lack of oxygen: a duel with death. I noted existence was much more rewarding in the face of death.

As my mind started to grow dim, bubbles reaching the surface through my nose and mouth, I closed my eyes again and pushed myself up. I sat gasping for air, hair stuck to my face and droplets clinging to dark lashes.

I tugged on my sleeves as the Empress watched from the doorway, the robes she had given me a royal blue, the edges decorated with gold trimming. Looking into the mirror, I realised I did not recognise the man I saw. I was a far cry from the husk I had been for so long. Looking refined, dressed in expensive silks, the lightness of my eyes emphasised by the deep shades of the robes. I found myself staring in silence, indistinguishable emotions roaring to life deep within me. It irked me. I loathed the way it felt, loathed how I didn't know the how's and why's of my own inner workings. The residues of a life long ended screamed inside of me, fought to take over the calm that had ruled for over 4000 years.

"Here let me help." The Empress had spoken suddenly, coming to stand before me. Tan fingers carefully smoothed out the wrinkles, straightening the fabric with practiced grace. The warmth of her hands burned through the silks. I watched the crown of her head, dark hairs pulled up in a collected hive, not one out of place. A stark contrast to the world that lay outside the safe confines of the tower.

Finished, she tilted her head to meet my gaze, lingering there in curious silence. I was acutely aware of the steady thumping of my heart, the flow of life through ancient veins. This body distracted me so, stole my thoughts and replaced them with unreliable things such as feelings and wants. I felt out of place in this world, in my own skin; I had painfully outgrown myself. And as I stood now, dressed in silk, the sight of myself in a life I was never meant to have stung. The Empress and I were worlds apart, yet here we stood.

Equal footing.

After a quick breakfast in her room, the Empress had turned to her desk. There she searched through large piles of paper, picking out a number of bundles.

"You are to be known as Melvil Lithon, a young noble traveling from the town of Whitecliff," she started. "You were sent to Dunwall by your elderly father: a nobleman with deteriorating health, looking upon his son to be the family heir. However, you're stricken by an unknown ailment, deteriorating faster than your peers. The origin of your disease is suspected to relate to something your mother did, right at your birth. Dabbling with black magic in secret, your mother possessed a rare artefact: the blood of the Outsider. Hoping to grant her son just a fraction of the Outsider's powers, she fed some of the blood to her newborn child.

Anton Sokolov is currently present, working on resolving the whale oil problem. I'll order him to treat you, but he must not find our who you are. You'll pay him with the remaining blood of the Outsider, your blood—he won't be able to refuse." She presented me with a number of forged letters and legal documents. Everything had been perfectly fabricated, from the handwriting to the family name and sigil. It was all there, and none would be the wiser. No one would bat an eye at some strange green-eyed boy from the remote town of Whitecliff.

"You've put a lot of thought into this," I remarked.

The Empress smiled. "I've always loved to fantasize."

"I know."

Her eyes shot up.

"You seem to forget who I am."

She continued staring, features drawn into an expression I couldn't place.

"...Right." She straightened her back once more.

"As a girl you were never afraid of the world, its possibilities."

"I was afraid of you."

"I know," I repeated once more. The Empress observed me carefully, words on her tongue that she held captive in her mouth. "But you were brave nevertheless, in a world that isn't kind to little girls."

"Or you?"

I held my tongue, finding myself out of words to say.

She spoke once more, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry." She turned back to her desk, continuing her planning in an effort to shake the strange mood that had settled over the both of us. "You are to leave the tower and present these documents I've prepared to the guards at the entrance." She held up a small stack of legal papers. "These contain my written permission. Once these have been delivered to the front gate, Anton Sokolov will be called upon." She took a purse from a nearby drawer, searching its contents until she extracted a small vial.

"Fill this with your blood and keep it with you until you meet Anton. No one is to know about this payment." She shook the vial in front of me with each word she spoke. "Anton won't know it's your blood he's receiving—it won't matter. He'll believe it to be real when he sees that your ailment has magic spelled all over it. In return, he'll investigate whatever's wrong with you. He'll suspect the disappearance of the Outsider, along with the sudden malfunctioning of whale oil, might have something to do with your rare affliction that started around the same time. With a bit of luck he might be able to stall or cure whatever's ailing you."

I took the vial from her, along with a small knife she'd disinfected. Pressing the knife's edge into the palm of my hand, I pushed to draw blood. Red liquid flowed into the vial like river sludge, and my gut filled with an unpleasant feeling as I watched it spill from the delicate cut. When it was halfway full I closed the vial, watching the liquid slosh in its container.

"You'll be staying in the tower, your case treated as highly confidential. My father will know the full truth of course, he'll be a valuable ally. I'll have to talk to Wyman about this, too. Prevent them from outing us." She retrieved another set of papers from her pile. "These are the documents regarding the whale oil issue. Father has been set on finding out the origins of the problem." She thumbed through the documents.

"We'll be directly involved with his progress; several meetings have already been held. We'll need his knowledge to assess our next move. Hopefully you'll be able to at least shed some light on several things. There are too many questions that remain unanswered."

The Empress stood and made her way to a large wooden cabinet at the other side of the room. From it she retrieved a leather bag and some more robes. She stuffed them into the bag along with the documents she'd forged, returning to me and handing it over. After that she led me back to her Safe Room, opening a door that led directly to the streets outside.

The sun beat down on us as the wind howled past our figures. I felt it tousle my hair and noticed how the Empress's stayed almost perfectly in place. With a deep sigh she turned to face me, eyes taking in my form one last time before smiling.

"Just remember, you're Melvil Lithon of Whitecliff. You've come here to meet with the Royal Physician on the Empress's approval," she reminded me, drilling the words into my mind.

"I understand."

She nodded before she turned to look down the abandoned street, ensuring no one would see me leave. I noticed how the sun burned in her eyes and reflected off of her, skin aglow. I could almost see her pulse beating its way through her veins, the thudding of her royal heart. So much like her mother's. I followed the direction of her gaze, looking out across the street, hearing the waves of the Wrenhaven in the background. Somewhere in that deep and vast expanse of water, hidden away from the corrupted societies of men, swam beasts as grand and mysterious as the ocean itself.

I had dreamt their songs, their sorrows. Had watched them bleed, bend, and break— over and over again—as men took without remorse and without giving back. The Empress had tried to change this, to free the innocent creatures from their fates. But, as most people did, she had quickly learned that the harsh reality of the world wasn't something she could easily alter. Regardless of her crown, she stood powerless as hundreds upon thousands of innocents were slaughtered for the greed and prosperity of the people. Her people.

Said Empress let out a sigh, eyes downcast and shoulders bearing a weight too heavy for one so young. She righted herself before turning to me, sending me another one of her brief smiles, signalling me to depart.

"Good luck." she said her goodbyes. "Melvil."

I nodded before starting down the street, headed for the tower's entrance, leather bag with all its contents hanging from my shoulder.