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First few steps came to him nauseously. Anxiety creeping through his gut, eating him out and pulsing through his veins with every breath. There was no life out of the palace, so why would Emily even suggest that? A brake, why? He wasn't damaged, yes, obviously not as young but still at his prime. It would be a waste surely. But so was her word, and so he obeyed.
“Go, get yourself a nice little vacation. You definitely deserve one.”
Ha! Like he needed one anyway. Bold and stupid of her, not much to say about it. There definitely should have been a piece of work for him in Karnaca. Maybe a diplomatic visit? Or a bit of espionage to brighten up a day? Maybe. There was a huge heap of work he could manage to do while he was on this trip. Or so he thought back in his cabin. Organization, planning and scheduling were always his fortune. And, as there was nothing better to do on a ship, he found comfort in mundane paperwork.
Turned out, as soon as they landed, Corvo was met with a horrifically steel grip of his emotions taking over him. He didn't know exactly why, but the feeling of being “home” brought tears to his eyes. No, it wasn't home, it was rather like looking at a crumbling building which the one used to call this way. All achievements, hopes and plans buried somewhere under the rubble (it wasn't worth it anyway).
He had no memories of how he came into the hotel room, of how he unpacked. What happened afterwards, if anything (why can't you function normally?) . It was like someone played with his memory, tuning down all feelings that he might have in those moments. Bleak nothing, pristine silence, empty head filled with nothing but fog. He layed in his bed for a day (or two? how much time has passed?) watching the fan on the ceiling. Spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning and-
On some nights it felt like the metal claw belonged to Gristol. The city itself was afraid of Attanos fleeing, so it made sure he turned back. On the other Corvo could swear that it was his hand in the metallic gauntlet, dedicated to keep himself above the waters of his own creation. Long forgotten feeling actually. After Jessa- the Empress' death (don't think about her) , part of him wanted to die with her. Wanted to go into a deep and dark place. Hide good enough under the umbral tides and never go back. It cost him a lot to brace himself back together. One part of him was always there with him. The one which could precisely calculate his target's route, the tactics to follow and the required strength (you expected to be something more than that?). It was always this part, made of steel. It was only this part of him that dragged the other back from the water. The other one was too afraid to feel human.
Maybe it was a good thing. Those two work in tandem to simulate a good enough man. Man made of steel but soft enough to make his daughter laugh. Man who shows mercy but brings fate worse than death. Both of them. He needed both of those parts before. But now. Now-
It was the first day when the steel grip finally started to ease.
Pretty cold for it to be the day, so he woke up early. Clock ticking on the wall, indicating somewhere around four in the morning. Air always felt different in that time of day, a way cleaner for whatever reason. Though not that type to which Attano accommodated himself in Gristol. There was a difference but it was hard for Corvo to put a finger on it. Maybe everything was just different now (and you are the only one who stayed the same).
Planning things seemed to bring him comfort, so he decided to do just that. Arranging things was always his strong side, and he was especially pleased when everything was going as it should. After all that time laying in his room like dead he almost forgot about everything he scheduled for himself. Obviously he had to change some things here and there but nothing too drastic.
First thing was espionage. He needed to know what happened to his old house and not to forget his dear mother! But the district where he previously lived was under control of a gang. So what can be funnier than going through a hostile area full of trained gangoons only to meet your dearest someone! Second was obviously a meeting with a grand Duke of Serkonos! To see a posh live in ornate walls full of mysterious paintings from different artists in different styles! Him in the finest treads going through these hallways with an arrogant posture. That should definitely be a sight to behold! And a third one should definitely be for shopping! He wanted to bring something to Emily after all. Should it be silk fabrics of the most vibrant colors imaginable? Or perhaps a bottle of the best booze one can find only in Karnaca, something local and proudly Serkonan. Oh, it would be perfect! She would love those gifts!
Only one thing worth doing now was to clean himself up and grab a bite from a local market. And he was good to go!
***
It was... rowdy. Streets practically buzzing with all sorts of people. Merchants passing their deals, selling some fish at stalls, and something else under it. Workers talking about new employees, their spouses and kids - about everything and nothing at the same time. Serkonan guards strolling through, audibly arguing about definitely the most important matters ever. Tired fishermen who were shuffling from the docks back to their houses.
Roughly noon, Attano thought.
He found himself a good vantage point to observe everyone from afar, while enjoying his snack and a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Both bought from the same vendor. And a good chief it seemed (check for poison). Not like there was something suspicious about this particular cook but Attano still waited for a bit. And only after he saw no suspicious activity from this man, he started eating.
The whole scenery of a market brought back memories. Something so old and repressed by all those years in the Tower. When he was little he always helped his father with anything he needed done. And when there was nothing to do for little Corvo in a workshop, there always was something for him in the docks. He was never afraid of taking hackworks from local fishermen, besides they were paying him with real money! What a deal! Memories so long gone it felt like it was a lifetime ago (was it ever real?).
After that came training for a blade verbena tournament. He tried his best to catch up with both working and training, and eventually succeeded at both (you know it's a lie). Only to find himself standing in front of the Emperor of the isles and accepting his blessings to be a royal protector (you know who you let down).
Attano always thought of himself as a boulder. A huge chunk of stone, with the only purpose of protecting the royal family (the one you failed). And yet, he rather had more in common with an iceberg than a mountain. Right now, sitting here, in Karnaca, familiar shapes and smells and sounds - all of that were melting him down. Years of living in the Tower, years of everyday nervousness, years of being looked upon, years of bearing titles like grim reminders of his mistakes. He did his best to break himself, to fit in the royal mold. But now. But now there was nothing.
He was a stranger to this land now, not its son. Completely lost in the streets, yet so standing out it actually made him sick. Like a black ugly blot on a colorful canvas kind of wrong (so you were right in Dunwall?). It was only natural, come to think of that. He made himself accustomed to cold steel and hard stone, shed any reminder of a midday sun and marine breeze. Even if it was once part of him, he did his best to get rid of it, truly.
Maybe he could postpone his plans a little more. They had been waiting for days, a few hours wouldn't change a thing. Obviously, he sincerely wanted to do everything he planned! That was the circumstances, they were wrong. Corvo needed a little bit more time than he thought. He was used to the amount of his strength it took to carry all his sorrows. No wonder it felt wrong to breathe so easily now. And that was how a new idea was born. There was a small beach, not so far from a fisherman's bay. Definitely a prime spot, if he ever had to name one. It was a secret place though, known only by the locals. And even those people wouldn't be hanging around there in the noon. Pretty secluded place where his father used to take him, it should have been a good start.
Strange feeling, this. To understand that now he couldn’t make sense of some streets and passages. To not know who your new neighbors were and where the old ones went. Where were those guys with whom you celebrated your wins and with whom you cried over your losses. It all was so different now. Like coming home, looking for the right key in the ring. Like realising that none of yours would befriend the lock (was it ever your home?)
And yet, to Corvo’s great surprise, the bay was still there, untouched. Nothing changed in this place, same old houses catching last winks of tree shades, same clayish road flowing into the same sand, same small wharf still standing and workers’ forgotten tools nearby it. Just as he remembered it. How funny time flew, when you were not checking it. The birds with whom he raised and struggled were no longer there, but he could still see their nests. A lot of people whom he loved were no longer with him, but he could still carry their voices in his memory.
First few steps came to him nauseously. Then it felt wrong to wander through this place in his boots, they had to go. Anxiety meddling with his hands, tangling his shoelaces. The ocean was so beautiful at this time of year, he had no right but to stroll at least near it (You definitely needed a break). Breathe deeply, let your lungs be full of that breeze. Let the wind take your sorrows away somewhere far-far-far away from here. Look at yourself in the cracked mirror of ocean waters, look yourself in the eyes. (As you never were afraid of going to Karnaka). You were afraid of whom you may find here. (But so was Emily's word, and so you obeyed.) You were afraid to let yourself live again, you were afraid that this part of you, which stayed under the waters of this bay, would come back. You were afraid to let your steel grip go away. (Was it worth it?) Guess, it was.
(It was bold and stupid of you to deny it at first), not much else to say about it. And so enjoy your stay. The wind that brings to you sounds and dust from mines, the smell of a dockers’ sweat and the screeching of cranes at the port. From the greatest tops of oaks in the Cyria Gardens to the lowest depth of a ship's strakes at the Waterfronts. The sand on which you stand now, the sun that caresses your cheeks, the grand and mighty ocean in front of you. It's your home.
And so it was. Slightly past noon, someone could say. More people came from their houses for the usual business, the stench of spice and beer was starting to form around local bars and cafes. In the distant Addermire people were definitely having a good time, judging by the sounds of music. Not much better than a tune that one could hear in the streets from a lovely improvising artist. Their music, so loud, covering the shady dealings of some town gangs in the alleys. City lived through yet another day, and it changed herself and everyone who lived in it. She was a city in which one would love to get lost. And the one Lord Protector sure did just that. Got lost somewhere around the secluded bay, where the clay road flows into sand, where the old nests of seagulls still stand proudly on the rocks, where a small beach still stands its guard. This evening though it had good company. Still sitting near the small wharf, watching as waters grow red from the evening sun. There was just a man, Corvo Attano, and there was a city, Karnaca. And, despite everything, Karnaca welcomed him home.