Chapter Text

Corvo woke in a small boat, drifting aimlessly on the river, surrounded by the tall buildings of a city he had once loved.

He remembered Samuel’s words, and knew that the old man’s wish would not come true. Even now he could feel the poison coursing through him, killing him, choking every last drop of his life from him.

He was dying.

He saw them standing far above him, two sinister silhouettes that looked like monsters against the high noon sun. He knew even before they blinked down to him, however, that they were only men. He felt hatred boiling his blood, and anger fogging his thoughts, knowing he could never avenge the Empress’ death now, even as her killers stared down at him, dreadfully familiar masks hiding their faces. Whalers.

“This is the one who was with the Empress when she died,” the man’s voice sounded strange, metallic, and alien. He bent down, and Corvo could feel his eyes inspecting him even through the lens of his whaling mask. A hand reached out to his chin, turning his head to the side. He could not resist. “Poisoned. Tyvian stuff.”

“Amateur work,” said the other. “But the poison has had too long to do its work. I reckon he doesn’t have very long to live.”

“What should we do?” the first asked, standing again.

“That's up to Daud.”

Corvo felt himself fade as one blinked away, and his head fell with a thunk to the bottom of the bark as he fainted.

When he woke again he coughed, his breathing laboured and painful as it had not been before. He knew there were but a precious few hours left to his life.

He opened his eyes, but his vision was blurry and unfocused, the Whalers he knew to be around him only blots that flitted about hurriedly. He felt himself being lifted from the boat and put into what almost seemed to be a cage. Then the cage shook and trembled as it was lifted from the ground, and Corvo almost wondered if he was already dead. The white-hot pain in his chest told him that it was not the case.

It seemed like a long while had passed before the cage was finally placed on solid ground again, and he could feel a dozen eyes staring at him as the Whalers whispered amongst themselves. From the black shadows around him one seemed to be brighter, blood-red, and it stepped forward to open the door to the cage. He felt himself swaying and falling forward before he was caught by a pair of arms and laid down on the wooden floor of what seemed to be an abandoned Whale Oil refinery.

“He was poisoned, Daud,” Corvo heard, somewhere above him. “Had we found him earlier, we could have saved him, but now…”

“No matter,” the voice was hoarse and deep, and the face that appeared above the Lord Protector’s, although blurred, made his rage burn anew. The scar that ran from the man’s brow to the corner of his mouth had been forever etched into the bodyguard’s memory. The dark eyes searched his for a long while. “With only his body, we’ll still be able to claim a substantial reward.”

“Daud,” Corvo rasped, and if the master assassin was surprised to hear him speak, he did not show it. More whispers rose around them – they died with an annoyed gesture from the older man. “I’ve – found you.”

“A swig of poison too late I’m afraid, bodyguard,” Daud replied, and the tight smile on his lips was not what Corvo had expected. There was no glee or amusement there, merely – guilt? The Lord Protector thought he must be hallucinating.

“Leave us,” the man said finally, surprising both Corvo and his Whalers, if the looks they traded before obeying were anything to go by. Only one lingered.

“Sir, shouldn’t we – “

“Leave, Thomas,” Daud snarled, and the Whaler was gone.

“You killed her,” the Lord Protector panted, caring little for the rage he heard in his own voice. It did not matter now; soon enough, he would be dead. “Why?”

“Business,” the assassin answered, but the thin line his lips had become as he pressed them together told the bodyguard it was not all. “A job well done. Hiram Burrows – “

“I – know about – him, and he paid for his – crimes,” Corvo said, and with a grunt of effort he raised his hand, grabbing the older man’s collar and yanking him closer. “What I meant – how – how could you do – this? To her? And – Emily? Your own – daughter?”

Daud stood suddenly, escaping the bodyguard’s weakened grasp and stepping away from the Lord Protector, his hands tightening into fists at his side.

“How do you know of this?” he ground out between his teeth. Corvo made a sound that could have been a chuckle, but came out as a groan followed by a violent cough.

“J – Jessamine told – me everything,” the younger man replied. “Years ago. I tried – tried to hunt you down then – “

“And you failed,” Daud said coldly.

“Indeed. And now – that you are before me, I am – am too weak to punish you for – either of your crimes.” He laughed bitterly before another cough cut him off. Daud turned away, placing his hands on the railing of the platform and staring down toward the murky waters far below them.

“I’ve realized my wrongs, Corvo, and I’ve righted them – in a way that would be too long to explain now,” he said after a long while, and the laboured breathing of the younger man was his only answer. “When I killed your Empress and took our daughter,” he paused at the word, “something broke inside me. Now I want nothing but to leave this city. And fade from the memories of those who reside here. I’ve had enough killing.”

He turned back to the other man, and approached his prone form, kneeling next to him again.

“I would ask for you forgiveness,” Daud began, and Corvo thought he could see something akin to sadness in his eyes. “But there is no turning back from the path I have chosen, and I’ve never been one for apologies.”

The Lord Protector gathered the last of his strength and sat up so that he could see into the other man’s eyes, trembling and panting with the exertion, grasping at the assassin’s shoulder for support. He could feel himself dying.

“The stain will – never wash out,” he hissed harshly. He felt his grip on sanity slowly slipping and he gritted his teeth – only a minute, only a moment more, he prayed. “But you – can still h – help.”

He sucked in a shuddering breath. Daud’s face was impassive before him, but the bodyguard knew he was listening.

“They – have her now,” Corvo murmured. “Havelock, and Martin, and Pendleton. I thought they – were better than this, I – I really did. But they want to – use her, just like Campbell and Burrows – and – and all the others. You can’t let that happen, she – deserves better. Pay the debt – you must pay your debt.” A breath. The air tasted sour and smelled of blood – or perhaps it was only the poison doing its work. Quickly, quickly now. Speak. “The Hound Pits – Pub, they – must still be there – or a trail at least, leading – to them. Daud – your daughter – you must help – her. Maybe – in her own – time, she will forgive you. I – I know I cannot. The Hound Pits Pub, near the Flooded District – “

With a shudder and a sigh, the Lord Protector fainted, and Daud laid him back on the wooden floor of the Refinery. The end was near.

“I’ve done my part,” the assassin said as he stood, turning his back to the unconscious man and once again gazing out onto the grey expanse of the Flooded District. He linked his hands behind his back, and felt the Mark of the Outsider pulse with power as he clenched a fist. He could almost hear the whale god’s voice.

What will you do, I wonder? My dear friend, I’ve seen you kill nobles and peasants alike, I’ve seen you steal and murder and torture. But Daud, never have I seen you trying to redeem yourself before those last few days. You’ve saved her once; will you do it twice? Thrice, should she need your help again? After all, Corvo is right. The debt must be paid.

“I’ve done my part,” Daud whispered, and he knew the Outsider heard him.

Corvo Attano died before the day was done, and Daud disappeared in the night with five of his most loyal Whalers. When the rest of the gang realized his disappearance, they found that the sinister mask the Royal Protector had worn was gone, too.