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Chapter Text

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D I S T I L L E R Y   D I S T R I C T,  D U N W A L L
3th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“The room was full of darkness, only she was shining. Her hair, her eyes... her mouth. Her mouth formed into a scream. A scream that went through your spine. A moment longer and you thought your ears would burst. Then she fell silent. Only then did I see what was happening around me. Why no one else screamed. Grey ropes lay around their necks, their eyes terrified with fear, starring at her.”

–THE SILENT SCREAM INCIDENT, Tamarak, Tyvia, 1832
Excerpt from a witness report

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER PATROL 🙜

The salty and fishy air of the Wrenhaven River filled the lowest apartment to the right of the collapsed bridge in the Distillery District. Nicholaus Brewster’s apartment. The left window was wide open. Leaning against the window frame, the young man looked out at the dark waves. The sun was high up in the sky, glittering in the darkness of the water. Seagulls were cawing in the distance mixed with mingled conversations of people and now and then the horn of a passing ship.

His apartment was arranged like an inverted "u". On the left side stood his bed, a small side table, a metallic shelf, and a room-divider against the morning sun rays. Various books were scattered before the bed. Opposite the windows was a sofa. The right side was filled by a small kitchen and a dining table with two chairs. The middle of the "u" was a small bathroom. With a bathtub much too small for him. It took him only a few steps to get from his bed to the apartment door. Really not big, but it was his slice of heaven.

Noon, time for his shift at the City Watch. It was a thing of his family, every Brewster boy went to be a guard, trying to climb up the ladder and Nicholaus was no exception.

He walked away from the window towards the sofa, to slip into his worn brown boots that were standing next to it. From the shelf, he took a shirt and looked at it, then muttered to himself, "Good enough."

As he went to the front door, he closed the window and then grabbed the jacket and belt hanging on the wall next to the door. All that was missing now was the metal protective collar, which he picked up from the chair next to the door, then he put it around his neck. Pleased, he looked down at himself and tapped the metal with his hand.

A thought popped into his head, with swift steps he went back to the bed and fished out his beloved family heirloom from under the pillow. The metal of the pistol flashed for a moment in the sunlight, as if in greeting. Also, something the father had passed on to the son, in the Brewster family.

Holstering the pistol and taking the sword, which leaned against the bed edge, he walked back to the front door, out into the stairwell, locking the door he and continued down to the street. It felt strange on the roads of Dunwall, as if the moment were still in the balance. Many high people who had the say after Jessamine Kaldwin was assassinated, died one by one. Now the whole city seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

His workplace laid at the edge of the Distillery District. Always careful to use the routes of the City Watch, wandering too far in the gutters of the gray city, made you a great target for the local gangs. Nicholaus knew that too well, scratching one of his scars on his arm, unknowingly.

Every day, his path led past the Last Garden Pub. It was a corner building with a large square in front of it with two streets leading away.  The special thing about the building was not the facade decorated with ornaments and the colorful windows, it was more the green space between the building and the street. Which was arranged with bushes, flowers, and trees. One could see that great effort had been made to care for the garden. But the Rate Plague had also left its mark here. Here and there were unsightly brown spots.

There was a bustle in front of the Pub. Men were loading crates filled with hard liquor and food from a carriage, two horses in front of it. Just as one of the men was carrying a crate into the pub, the tavern owner appeared behind him. The woman squeezed past him and shouted something to the other men. He almost lost his balance and huffed while looking in her direction, rolling his eyes. Recognizing Nicholaus on the street, she beckoned him to her with a broad grin. One hand was on her hip, with the other she tried to push back her hard to control brown, waist-length, hair.

Lorna was a chubby older woman who had seen a lot in her life, but always went through the day with a smile. For that very reason, the Last Garden was a welcome place to stop by every day. Even if it were just to see a nice face after work. She had an open ear for everyone, and that's why people loved her.

Nicholaus walked past the horses and stroked the animal's back with one hand. The animal raised its large head in his direction and neighed softly. When the men noticed him, they gave him a slight nod and brought more crates into the pub.

"Nicholaus, honey!" she said, beaming with joy as he stopped in front of her.

“Good day, Lorna.” Nicholaus looked around the last two crates. One filled with apples and the other with bags of flour. “I see you got fresh goods.”

Her red lips blew a curl from her face. "Oh yes. Slowly I ran out of ideas what to prepare, with scarce reserves. Hopefully, times will get better now. As long as the alcohol is running, everything is fine,“ She winked. “Is it time for your watch?"

Nicholaus nodded as an answer.

The two men came back out of the pub and lifted the last two crates to carry them in as well. Lorna grabbed an apple and walked up to Nicholaus. She reached for his hand and placed the apple into it. Her dark green eyes fixed on him.

“Be careful you hear? Also, take some vitamins with you. Boys need to grow.”

Then she headed for the pub, Nicholaus also continued walking up the street. She called out to him from the back.

"Hey, honey! Are we going to meet you here tonight?"

Nicholaus half turned and called back, "Sure, tonight!" Then he bit into the apple and kept walking.

He reached the outpost, which served as a gateway to the other district. It must have been a bakery before, old advertising posters still hung on the wall. Now the red brickwork of the building had been divided into two. The door to the metallic annex was open, and he could literally hear his captain cursing inside. Milorat and Kasymir were also next to the door. Engrossed in a conversation.

Milorat Vonturell was a black-haired hunk of a man, bigger than Nicholaus and it seemed like every inch of his light body was tattooed. Funny to know that he came out of an aristocrat family. He could easily make it to a captain, but his rebellious behavior quickly put a spoke in his wheel. But he did not mind because he had a hell of a time to enrage his family.

Kasymir Sherman was also tall, but his tanned body was lean with sinewy muscles. One stroke of fate after another befell him. His entire family fell victim to the Rat Plague. Left him alone, making the entire squad now to his family. Which he will protect by any means.

As Nicholaus approached them they both nodded to him. He knocked on the door and waited to be called in, after a few seconds there was already the voice of his captain. Captain Piers Lynde leaned over a table scattered with a bunch of papers. He sighed in frustration and scratched his white stubbly beard as he looked over the papers.

“Hey Captain, everything fine?” Nicholaus asked and leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed.

Captain Lynde turned his face to him and then back to the papers: “Brewster, good. You are here. Everything fine?! This is pure chaos. Different orders from different places, it gets crazier every day. Who is supposed to see through that?” He massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers and sighed again.

Not turning around, he finally said, “I sent Chase to get some whale oil, he still hasn't returned. Go check on him. Take someone with you.”

"Will do!" Said Nicholaus and went out.

Milorat had marched to the gateway and was talking to a man who had appeared. Kasymir turned to Nicholaus, a grin on his face, "Captain's pretty tense."

“It will take him a while to sort out the paper mess. We need to check on Dennis.” Nicholaus answered.

Kasymir chuckled:” With our luck, he maybe had blown up the Oil station.”

Both men went down the street, into a side path. It was just a walk of some minutes. The path ended at a metallic hut. Looking around, Nicholaus could not discover anything out of the ordinary. It was paved with dry mud, a rat scurried across it and disappeared into a hole. The path was inconspicuous just like the hut. When they reached the hut, Kasymir poked Nicholaus and pointed at the door. The door was open a little. A low whimper came from the inside. They both sent each other warning glances. Nicholaus drew his pistol and could hear Kasymir's sword being unsheathed behind him. They positioned left and right from the door. Slowly Nicholaus pushed the door open. Then very quickly, with one leap, were both inside. A third voice screamed startled, and both groaned.

Dennis Chase laid surprised on all four on the ground, shards of glasses around him. With dustpan and hand broom in hand. Dennis was the youngest in the squad. A Dunwall street urchin. He does not know who his parents were, so he never got a surname. That’s why the squad gave him one. He was not particularly strong, but he made up for it with agility, by running and climbing like a champion.

A second passed in which all three looked at each other, then Dennis grinned broadly. His white teeth flashed in contrast to his dark skin.

“Outsiders eyes! You both scared me!” he said.

Kasymir chuckled and put his sword back, holding out a hand to Dennis. He reached out and pulled himself up by it.

“Man, you are bleeding,” Kasymir noted and looked at his bloodied hand. Puzzled, Dennis looked down at himself, then recognized a cut on his forearm.

“What happened here?” Nicholaus asked and put the pistol away again, walking around some more steps.

Nervously, Dennis waved the hand broom around as he replied, "Well, I was getting the tank out of there and then all of a sudden it shatters around my ears." Nicholaus noticed the broken tank at the dispensing station.

"Close." Kasymir laughed.

"What?" asked Dennis of him, confused. 

"Nothing." Nicholaus said unable to suppress a smirk. "Go back to the outpost and bandage that up." He took the dustpan and hand broom from him and began to sweep up the broken pieces. “Ah, leave the key for us.”

Kasymir followed Dennis out, calling after him, "Don't try to blow anything up on the way back." Then he went back into the hut and took the broken tank. Everything ended up in the nearby trash can, near the hut.

Nicholaus pulled the lever on the dispenser and held his breath, eyeing it suspiciously. Without any problems, it spat out an empty tank. He took the tank and put it into the refill station und pulled the other lever. With a satisfying hiss and burble, the tank was filled with the blue glowing whale oil. Nicholaus shouldered the tank and walked out. Kasymir locked the hut up and both went back to the outpost.

With the full tank, Nicholaus successfully got the security system up and running. The low hum of the loudspeakers indicated that the outpost was ready for any alert or announcement. There was no need to turn on the wall of light, because no suspicious gang activity was reported or spread of the Rat Plague in this district, for now.

Dennis had put on a bandage, and then immediately received a telling off from the captain. Now Nicholaus shift finally started, and it was as chaotic as always, in the last weeks and months. For the most part, the shift was uneventful. Various citizens and workers went in and out throughout the day. Suspects were pulled out and questioned, and some were asked to identify themselves. No one made particularly big trouble. Transport carts were stopped and scrutinized. So, the sun colored the sky first orange and then red.

Nicholaus stood in the gate and watched over both directions. The streets became emptier with every less sunbeam. Slowly the cold evening air crept through his clothes. Kasymir and Milorat approached him, and Dennis mostly jumped on their backs, his arms around their necks, laughing. As always, this boy was full of energy.

“Will you go with us to the pub after the watch?” Milorat asked.

“Come on, you will, right?” Dennis called out to him.

"If you'd let me talk, I'd answer, too." Said Nicholaus raising an eyebrow at Dennis. “Of course, I will!”

"Then..." Milorat wanted to say but was interrupted by a scream of a woman, somewhere nearby.

Alarmed, the men looked around and drew their weapons. Another scream from the same woman. They quickly scurried down the side street, in the direction of the scream. At the end of the street was a woman who was trying with all her might to hold on to her bag. Another person was pulling at the bag. Surrounded by other dark figures.

"Is that Bottle Street Gang?" asked Kasymir.

When the person noticed City Watch coming towards them, he shouted something, and the group ran off in all directions.

Nicholaus and the others quickly set after them. Dennis stormed ahead and jumped on the first one.

The group ran past him and Nicholaus shouted, "Get the woman to safety."

One part ran to the left and the other to the right into other streets. Nicholas followed those to the left and directed Milorat and Kasymir to the right. Two figures ran in front of him, the one behind almost stumbled and so Nicholaus reached him, with the butt of the pistol he hit him once hard on the head, he went straight to the ground. A shot came from the other direction. Alarmed, he looked back for a moment and cursed quietly.

Then he heard the low whimpering of the other he was chasing. As Nicholaus turned the corner, he realized that the path led to a dead end, he grinned and raised his gun.

"So, lad. No way out of here," he said with a threatening undertone.

Nicholaus came closer and closer, and the person turned around and raised his hands.

"M-Mathias?!" Nicholaus whispered, bewildered. He lowered the gun and grabbed the boy by the collar, shoving him against the wall. "What the Void are you doing here? Do you want to..." Beads of sweat gathered on the boy's forehead, his hands trembled like a leaf.

"Nicholaus, are you all right?" He heard the voice of Dennis.

Nicholaus growled and let go of Mathias. "Hide and don't make a sound! Go the fuck home!" He glared at him angrily again for a second, then spun around and walked back down the street.

"Yeah, I'm okay. The last one got away from me. What were those shots? Are you guys okay?" He called out to Dennis.

The two met again halfway. Nicholaus shouldered the guy he had knocked out. They both went up the right street. Kasymir and Milorat had cornered three others. Milorat had drawn his pistol and was pointing it at them. Looking closely, only one of them was from the Bottle Street Gang, the rest were all young boys in dirty clothes. When they noticed Nicholaus and Dennis arriving, with their comrade on their shoulder, one stepped forward.

“L-listen. N-no one needs to be hurt. We don’t stole anything.” He waved his arms nervously as he spoke. “We can pay you our coppers, no one will be hurt.” A weak smile on his lips. He put his hands in his pockets and dug out whatever was in them, the coins clattering on the floor. He waved to the others to do the same. Hesitantly, they also dug out everything. The guy who had stepped forward scraped all the coins together and pushed them in Milorat's direction.

Both looked back at Nicholaus, who was still busy getting angry about Mathias. Then his glance landed on the gangers and he let the one on his shoulder slide down against the wall.

"These ones are just small fish, do it however you want."

Then Nicholaus turned on his heel and walked back down the road to the outpost. Dennis followed him. Back at the outpost, they saw that the next watch had arrived. Captain Lynde waited restlessly at the door to the annex.

"Where the hell have you been?!" he shouted to Nicholaus.

Shortly after them Milorat and Kasymir came running. Coins clattered in their pockets with each step.

“We did take care of something. Nothing special, Captain.” Nicholaus answered and looked at the other squad.

Captain Lynde raised his eyebrow for a moment and then shook his head. "Anyway, shift's over." He was about to turn around but seemed to remember something. “Don’t forget, next Watch will be at the Clavering Boulevard. Some new nob wants protection in the next few weeks.”

Then he turned around and disappeared in the annex.

The small group set off down the road to the Last Garden Pub. But Nicholaus wanted to turn into another path after the halfway point.

"Hey, where are you going?" asked Milorat. The group stopped.

Nicholaus stroked his face. "I have to take care of something, sorry guys, drink a glass extra for me." he said then and continued walking.

"I'll even drink two!" Dennis called after him.

Nicholaus could hear all three of them laughing, the more he walked, the quieter their laughter became.

Chapter Text

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D I S T I L L E R Y  D I S T R I C T, D U N W A L L
3th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“With this letter, I would like to invite you to join my celebration. In my circles, I have heard only good things about you, and I would be very curious to know more about you. The celebration will take place on the third day of the Month of Harvest. I would be happy to meet you. Sincerely Lady Chauncey.” 

–A PERSONAL INVITATION, Dunwall, Gristol, 1844
by Lady Chauncey

WOUNDED MERMAID:

The moon now hung in the night sky and seemed to watch the city like a silent sentinel. It took Nicholaus a while to get to the Crimson Avenue near the Tower District. A complete street full of City Watch families. Placed near the head of the city, for a quick change of guards when necessary. Crimson Avenue took its name from the red wall and floor color. Whereby the floor color has been almost completely worn away by time.   

Everyone knew each other here and everyone protected each other, which made it one big family. Nicholaus could easily call everyone by their first names, having spent his entire childhood here. Playing with the other children, he had experienced all sorts of things and sometimes even get a rubdown by a neighbor.  

He continued up the avenue until almost halfway, then stopped at number 14. His gaze swung over the lowest row of windows. The lights were on in the rooms. Good, his parents were awake. He opened the front door and strode onto his parents' door. After his knock, it did not take long and the door was pushed open. The face of an elderly woman looked at him. First surprised, then she began to beam with joy all over her face.   

His mother Margery had always been a kind woman. Early on she had been lucky enough to get a job as a maid in an aristocratic family. What taught her to pay attention to a neater appearance. Her clothes were always simple but clean, as was her brown hair, which was pinned up. Her brown warm eyes looked at him, she lifted her hands and placed them on the sides of his head, then she kissed his forehead. Nicholaus had to lean down so she could reach him.  

"My dear, you look tired. Come in, it's so good to see you."  

She made room for him and let him enter.  

"Good evening, Mother, I hope I'm not disturbing you."  

He walked past her toward the living room. His father was sitting on the armchair with a newspaper in his hands. The moment he turned the corner, his father looked up from the newspaper.   

"Son," he said briefly, then looked back down at the paper.   

"Good evening, father," said Nicholaus, leaning against the wall.   

He could feel his mother squeeze his arm and smiling at him, as he turned his face to her.  

"You must be hungry, right? There's some leftover from dinner. Stew with potatoes and fish." She didn't wait for an answer but went straight to the kitchen.  

"How's work going?" his father asked.   

His father Hank had worked for the City Watch as well, even at bad times like the Rat Plague. All the stress had turned his neatly trimmed hair gray at an early age. Deep wrinkles were on his face and dark circles were under his eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep again. Since he had worked in the Rat Plague, he had been haunted by nightmares of the things he had seen and had to do. Which forced him into early retirement.  

"It's all good, it just seems a little chaotic in the planning department." He laughed shortly. "Captain Lynde is always complaining and can't get to anything else, then paperwork."  

The green eyes of his father wandered down to his pistol.   

“I hope you take good care of our girl.”  

Nicholaus tapped the pistol and nodded proudly. "Of course! I won't let her out of my sight."  

"Your bowl is ready!" his mother called from the kitchen. The smell of warm food rose to his nose and he made his way to the kitchen.  

"Is Mathias here too?" asked Nicholaus as he sat down at the dining table. His stomach was now loudly demanding food. With greedy bites, he gulped down one spoonful after the other.  

"Now that you ask, Matti came in just before you. Were you out together?" she asked with her back to him, filling a sealable metal can with a second serving of stew.   

Nicholaus was silent for a moment and then cleared his throat, "Nah, but I still need to talk with him. He's the smarter of the two of us, after all." His free hand clenched into a fist under the table.   

"Well, he should be in his room," she replied, setting the can down next to his bowl. "Take this with you and you'll have something for tomorrow."  

He looked up at her and smiled, still with the spoon in his mouth, "Thank you."  

His mother smiled back and stroked her hand through his brown hair that had fallen forward. Then she sighed and hugged his head. "Oh, I miss you so much, my little shark."  

Nicholaus laughed and then said indignantly, "Mother! You haven't called me that in a long time! I haven't gone that far after all."  

She sobbed playfully, "Since you moved out, it always seems like an eternity when you visit us again."  

"Woman! Let the poor boy eat in peace!" his father shouted from the living room.  

They both giggled and she let him finish his stew. When he was done, he patted his belly in satisfaction, "Thank you, it was delicious!"  

While clearing his dishes, she asked, "Are you staying the night?"  

Nicholaus shook his head, "My shift tomorrow is at Clavering Boulevard. Better I go home then."  

He got up, walked out into the hallway, and looked at Mathias' closed door. He knocked a few times before his brother invited him in. Mathias room was a mess of papers, books, and newspapers. Newspaper articles adorned almost a complete wall, against which stood a table also filled with paper. Around the typewriter in the middle of the table, however, everything was free. A bed, a dresser, and two bookshelves were on the other side of the room.  

Mathias stood at the window, it was wide open, letting in a breeze of cold night air. Nervous the green eyes of the boy darted around like he was searching for a threat. Fear was still written on his face. Mathias was ten years younger than Nicholaus. He turned 20 this year.  

His lanky body immediately showed what he was more interested in. His world was books and newspapers, and not hanging out with some gangers until late at night.  

Nicholaus stepped in and closed the door. He glared at him angrily, a look the boy could not withstand for long.   

"What were you thinking?" asked Nicholaus, taking care to speak calmly. There was no point in scaring him anymore.  

Mathias seemed to be searching for the right words. "It's nothing serious."   

"Nothing serious, huh?" Nicholaus sighed in frustration and sat on the edge of the bed. "You were lucky I was the one who found you."   

A moment of silence passed.   

"I can't always protect you. Do you understand that?" he tried to plead with the boy. "I always thought you were the more reasonable of the two of us. Stay away from the alleys if you don't want to see our parents six feet under, because of worry."  

That was all he could do now. Nicholaus stood up and walked over to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. Mathias seemed to be wrestling with himself, lost in thought.  

"Okay, take care of yourself, Matty."  

He went back outside, closed the door, and then grabbed the can in the kitchen and attached it to his belt. His mother was now standing behind his father, who showed her something in the newspaper. When he was back in the living room, they both looked up at him.   

"Thanks for the good meal, I'll be on my way back to my apartment," Nicholaus said, throwing his mother a kiss.  

"Be careful, darling!" said his mother, his father just nodded his head shortly.  

On the way back, the cold of the night embraced him again. The sky was clear and full of stars. He walked back the same way, always following the routes of the City Watch. Except for the guards, there were hardly any people outside, the rest were in their apartments by the warm fire.  

He stopped at a bridge that led into the Distillery District. It offered him a great view over the Wrenhaven, leaning with his arms on the bridge railing, he could hear the flowing of the water in the canal under him.  

His thoughts were still circling around Mathias, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that the boy was still trying to hide something from him. He remembered the day when he met Milorat, during which they almost became members of a gang.  

It was a warm spring day, they were both the same age as Mathias is now.   

Everywhere kids were terrorizing a neighborhood, in the case of Crimson Avenue it was Bruckner and his buddies. Nicholaus was constantly at war with them because he was trying to protect the other children, which constantly gave him bruises and sometimes broken bones from the beating. And today was such a day.   

He had sat down at Wrenhaven and was skittering stones across the water when he heard shouting behind him. Suddenly, a fine toff crashed out of the alley and stumbled toward the Wrenhaven . Nicholaus could hear him growl as he wiped the blood from under his nose with one hand. He spun around in time to let his fist fly forward just as one of Bruckner's buddies was about to punch him, the fist landed in his face and with a groan, he went down.   

Nicholaus rushed up and punched the next one. The other boy looked at him in surprise and then grinned. Both got ready for the rest of the storm. What he noticed only at the second glance. The boy had a perfect fighting posture.  

Fists flew, blood splattered around. It was like a damn dance. He could hear Bruckner shouting his orders from the alley.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Nicholaus saw a second group of youths join them but not intervene. They sat down on the nearby scree and enjoyed the show.  

One by one they went down. But the boy and Nicholaus were not spared either. Then finally Bruckner appeared.   

"Take care of him, I'll take care of the remaining two." the other boy called out to him.   

Nicholaus nodded and tried to push Bruckner out of the group, one blow after another Bruckner dodged him and headed for the other side.   

"Let's get out of here, boys!" shouted Bruckner suddenly and set about making a run for it. At the same moment, Nicholaus lashed out and hit him in the back, which made him stumble forward. The rest of his boys got up with a groan and rushed into the shadows of the alley.   

Puffing loudly and still with their fists ready, the two watched them go. Someone behind them applauded. A blonde girl, on her neck she had the tattoo of the Bottle Street Gang.  

"What a show! You guys did a good job on them." She smiled, stood up, and walked towards them. "What do you think about joining us? We can always use good fists."   

They both looked at each other for a moment and then started laughing. The boy relaxed and straightened up, patting the dirt from his clothes. Nicholaus also relaxed and gestured him to follow.  

The boy bowed in the girl's direction and then followed Nicholaus.   

"Your loss!" she called after them.   

For a few minutes, they walked along the Wrenhaven and then sat down on the edge of the quay wall. The other group had now disappeared as well.  

The boy held out his hand, "I'm Milorat . Nice to meet you."   

Nicholaus grabbed it and shook it. "Nicholaus."  

He laughed for a moment, "I've never seen anyone fight like that with such a fine suit. Where did you learn to do that?!"  

Milorat rolled up his torn sleeve, under which one could glimpse two tattoos. " Underground Fighting Club." He said, grinning.  

Nicholaus had to be careful not to let his lower jaw fall to the floor. "Damn," he said, impressed, after a moment.  

"You're hardcore, Milorat ."   

"You don't fight badly either, where did you learn it?"   

“With morons like Bruckner." He pointed back to where they had been fighting. "My father is in the City Watch, he's taught me a few things too. I'm going to join there soon."   

Milorat propped himself up backward with his hands and looked up at the sky, "The Civil Watch, huh? Maybe I should join too, and we'll beat up the bad guys together."  

From that moment on Nicholaus knew that he and Milorat would become inseparable friends.  

An irregular splash jolted him out of his memory. He looked out at the dark surface of the water, the moon glittering in it. His eyes widened as he recognized what he saw in the water. A human figure was swimming in it, pressed against the canal wall.   

He ran down the bridge and took the stairs to the small jetty. He stood hip-deep in the water and reached the figure with some steps. Now he saw that it was a young woman. Blonde long hair hugged her body, dirty from the muck in the Wrenhaven. She was wearing a fancy black lady's suit, which was also filthy, one sleeve was torn off, light skin caught his eye.   

Nicholaus lifted her, her eyes fluttering under her eyelids. She mumbled some words that he could not understand. When he turned her around he noticed how his hand turned red, cursing he lifted her with both arms, searching her body, and spotted a puncture wound on her side. "Curse the Outsider!"  

He hoisted her onto the stairs, then himself, and headed with her to the doctor in the Distillery District. 

Chapter Text

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D I S T I L L E R Y  D I S T R I C T, D U N W A L L
4th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“Dear Sister, my heart still screams if I did the right choice, to leave you behind me. I can't deny that I miss you, because for such a long time, it was always just the two of us. Here at the Abbey I felt alone in the beginning, everything was new. But then I saw the path of guidance. A path of light in all the darkness around me. You were my light, Sister. But you turned away. Now the words of the Abbey of the Everyman help me to see the truth. To see how wrong it was, what you did to him and then to the others. The Seven Strictures are now my light and I hope someday- ” 

–AN UNSENT LETTER, Tamarak, Tyvia, 1835
found under the bed of a First Initiate

RED MASK:

There was always whispering somewhere. 

Whether in the snowy villages far out between the frozen mountains, somewhere on the coast of Tyvia or at the fine tables of the rich nobility in the lush Gardens of Upper Cyria in Karnaca. 

A whisper from an impossible place. Was it our voice that said that? Or was it the black-eyed bastard?

The Void. 

A place of nothingness. 

A place of everything. 

So opposite and yet so dependent on each other. It was just the right spot for Janet, for the fifth time she was able to wander in this realm and how she managed to reach it alone terrified her a little more every time.  

It felt like if she was on the verge of death. She could not describe it any other way. Never sure if she was still alive or if this was the afterlife. Why did she not know? A few moments ago, the knife still stuck in her side and she was too afraid to even touch it or to look at it too long. 

But now it was merging with the Void before her eyes, leaving Janet with a gaping wound from which blood oozed and swirled into the nothingness.
Janet sat on the edge of a lone rock formation with one leg pulled to her body, and the other hanging over the edge. The young woman's gaze wandered around. Somehow it was a comforting place with a peace she could find nowhere else.

The distant sound of wind and whale songs echoed throughout the Void. The singing always came from a different direction, as if two wanderers were calling to each other so they would not be alone anymore. 

Rocks floated around in an invisible current, in every imaginable shape and size, but always too far away to reach.
No matter where you look, the sky and ground were a deep blue, as if underwater.

Nothing about it seemed possible. The touch of her hand on the hard surface of the rock, and her dancing hair in the wind. This all felt real.

She had to come to terms with the fact that it seemed that she fled here when a certain pain made her faint. It was her retreat place, or more her retreat rock. 

A near whale call made her look back and a smile flitted across her lips. 

Janet pushed herself up and lifted her hand into the sky. Her fingers brushed along the smooth belly of a whale. The whale seemed pleased and gurgled joyfully. He made a turn downward and circled the small rocky island one time. His big dark eye curiously followed her every move. Then he stopped right in front of her before the edge.

"You come to see me, my friend?" 

The whale answered with a melodic sound that seemed to come from deep within his body. His bloodied mouth opened a bit, revealing a row of sharp teeth.

One step at a time, Janet approached the whale and touched the side of its head with her hand. The double barbels swayed lazily with his movements.

She noticed how his eye rested on her wound. Her own blue eyes and blond hair reflected in the dark eye of the Leviathan. "Ah, that. It seems we are both wounded today." The whale whimpered softly and seemed to press more into her touch.

"Hey, it's okay." Janet had to smile and caressed his smooth skin with both hands.

"There is no pain here, at least not for me? Do you feel yours?"

The whale just looked at her.

She could feel an invisible force tugging at her. The other world wanted her soul back, and the whale seemed to feel it, too.

"It was nice that we weren't alone here for a moment."

With a sad whimper, the whale broke away from her touch and flew back over the rock into the Void. 

It was time to wake up. 

Janet awoke in a foreign bed, in a foreign house. The taste of bitter medicine laid on her tongue. Her body ached from… she remembered abruptly what happened yesterday. But she had no memory of how she landed here.

A folding-screen blocked her view to the rest of the room. Books were scattered in front of the bed. A shelf stood against the wall, opposite the room divider, and was covered with all sorts of things. It didn't look cluttered, it was neatly tidied. Blue clothes, kitchen utensils, empty and full cloth bags. As she tried to sit up to look around the screen, a sharp pain in her side reminded her of the wound. She winced, drew in her breath and let herself sink back onto the pillow.

Lifting the blanket, she noticed that her clothes had been replaced with a wide white shirt, pulling the shirt up further she realized that the wound was properly bandaged,  

She stroked a hand through her blonde hair. Knots, however, made it impossible for her to sweep through all of it and she had to grimace when she noticed that her hair stank of fish.

"Where am I?" she thought aloud and immediately clasped her mouth with one hand, listening if someone was here too. A fire crackled somewhere in the room. A ship's horn blared muffled through the windows. In the apartment above her, the floorboards creaked as someone seemed to walk around, but in this apartment, no one was there. A moment passed before she allowed herself to breathe again.

A light masculine scent laid in the fibers of the blanket, mixed with a fading fresh-washed scent. And. Some sort of oil and lemon? 

It took a few minutes before Janet’s thoughts drifted back to the previous evening. That red grinning face stared back at her, too late she saw the knife flash in his hand and then there was the piercing pain in her side. He was still grinning. She staggered back on the terrace, further back until there was nothing more and in the next moment she was surrounded by dark water. And even then, he was still grinning.

The invitation to Lady Chauncey’s celebration had arrived on her first morning in Dunwall. All the talk about Dunwall she had to agree with. The Gray City rose with an elegant grandeur on the shore to Wrenhaven, which passed through it. The view was characterized by tall buildings with peaked roofs and countless streets. Janet was impressed by the mere size of the city. Never had she seen so many people at one place with such different goals and desires.

As long as the celebration was going on, she was welcome to stay at Lady Chauncey’s house. It was a magnificent house. The three floors were furnished with the finest furniture. Care was taken to follow an elegant combination of silver and green. Repeatedly interspersed with wooden elements. The preparations were still in full swing for the celebration in the evening, which prompted Janet to follow Lady Chauncey into the library, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

Lady Chauncey was a widowed middle-aged woman. Her Husband died to the Rat Plague and her son travelled the isles, leaving her alone.

Although she was older, you could hardly tell her age. Her light skin was firm and young, her brown eyes were attentive. Her brown hair was pompously pinned up. The elegant green dress highlighted the slender curves of her body. She did everything in her power to appear younger.

One side of the building went out onto a terrace that reached to the canal, columns stood around and were connected at the top with wooden boards that extended to the wall of the house. Green hanging plants grew down them. Tables were ready for the guests who wanted to stay outside.

The other side led into a small garden, bordered by trimmed dense bushes. The highlight were two graceful female statues that seemed to dance in the sunlight.

As the sun began to set, the house slowly came to life, with guests trickling in from carriages and railcars.

There was boisterous laughter, drinking and dancing. The intoxicating mix of all these elements swept over Janet. A certain invisible electricity that gripped the entire building and ran through everyone.

Throughout the celebration, Janet chatted with all sorts of guests. Maybe she would make some deeper acquaintances in an attempt to squeeze some coins out of their pockets, but there was no greater interest for anyone here.  But she could not get rid of the feeling that someone was watching her and every time she looked around, there was no one in particular looking at her.

Frustrated and somehow curious, she strolled through the hall, avoiding already drunk guests.

Laughter came from the dining room, her eyes wandered there, and she saw Lady Chauncey talking to a group who were listening intently.

Janet was about to go out on the terrace when she felt the tingling again, like invisible fingers stroking the back of her neck. This time, as she looked around, she saw a man leaning against the piano at the end of the hall. Behind him, the lights of the dark city and the stars in the sky were competing with each other in the big windows.

The man smiled at her and nodded slightly. His arms were crossed. Slowly, he brought a glass to his lips, taking a long sip of the wine.

He wore a suit consisting of a brown jacket with a geometric gold pattern on it, a white shirt underneath, dark trousers, and golden shoes.

His short hair was completely white and seemed to glow on the dark night sky behind him. His white beard was neatly trimmed.

The man's smile widened, and Janet realized that she was staring at him and embarrassed looked back to the terrace. She heard him chuckle. Even though she was no longer looking at him, his smile echoed within her, embracing her like a blanket of sweet honey. It demanded attention, but Janet didn't know if succumbing to it would be a good idea.

Someone slipped an arm around her waist and she looked up, startled. Lady Chauncey smiled at her.

"You could have told me what a beauty she is, dear Volentine." she said in the man's direction.

"She certainly is. I am quite bewitched myself." He answered with a silky deep voice.

Lady Chauncey walked in the man’s direction and dragged Janet with her, she stopped in front of him.

Nervous Janet drank up her glass of wine and had to make an effort to hide the trembling of her hands. Something about this man was dangerously intoxicating. The man leaned in her direction and held her his free hand.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, my name is Volentine Edevane.” His light green eyes observed her curiously and there was is again, his warm but dangerous smile. Janet couldn't help but smile back and taking his hand. The skin of her cheeks started to burn, she was not sure if it was because of the wine or him, being handsome. A voice screamed in her head in danger. His gaze lingered on her wine-red lips for a brief moment, then traveled up her equally red cheeks and stopped at her eyes. Janet was sure she was glowing like a red tomato and that made him grin, showing a row of perfectly white teeth.

“I’m Janet Abery.”

Someone called Lady Chauncey’s name and she turned into that direction. “I will leave you two alone.” She grinned before she headed away.

Janet watched after her as Volentine caressed her skin with his thumb. She pulled her hand away and clasped her empty glass with both hands.

“Did we know each other from somewhere?” Janet asked, remembering what Lady Chauncey said to him.

Leaning back onto the piano, he answered with an undefined sparkle that appeared in his eyes: “Not that I know. Is it your first time in Dunwall?”

She nodded as an answer, rubbing the stem of her wine glass. Her view was glued to the golden and silver rings on his fingers. One of it had a big dark and dull gem on it, with a white symbol, she narrowed her eyes. But he turned his hand away so that she could not examine the symbol further.

"It is a wonderful city. With many beautiful secret places, I would like to show you if you accept my invitation." His hand slid forward, and he placed his fingertips against the rim of her glass. "Your glass is empty, I'll bring you another one," he smiled and waited for her to let go.

Janet looked back and forth between him and the glass a few times and finally let go. He walked closely past her and disappeared into the crowd.

Janet decided that she desperately needed fresh air and went out onto the terrace. Only a few tables were occupied from guests, engrossed in their own conversations. At the edge of the canal, she stopped and looked down at the dark water that was quietly lapping away. One deep breath. Exhale. Second deep breath. Exhale.

The night air felt infinitely good on her warm skin. She could not explain it, but somehow this man seemed to take complete hold of her. He lulled her thoughts like a mist and something about him pulled at her powers. But that couldn't be, she had covered the Outsider's mark with a glove and allowed very few to know about her magic. And here she was now, with a desire to confide to him, to tell him every one of her little secrets.

A rustling behind her made her look back. The guests had disappeared. And a figure seemed to be standing in the shadows.

"Who's there?" she called into the night.

The figure came toward her. It was too dark to make out the clothes, but the mask on his face glowed a dangerous red. Like a fire. The mischievous grin on the mask seemed to bore right through her heart, leaving her with a dull feeling all over her body. The eyes of the mask were dark and seemed to be without any life.

Just before he reached her, she saw the knife flash in his hand. His hand sprang forward and clasped her arm. She wanted to scream for help, to run, but her voice failed and her limbs were frozen.

There was only the grin, then the pain, and then the cold water around her.

"I'm sorry, honey." she could hear him say. The blood on the knife flashed in the moonlight. Then her memory cut off.

Frustrated, she kneaded her face as her thoughts gathered again in the now. Why couldn't she fight back? That had never been the problem before. She had her powers, which gave her enough time to run away. But at that moment she was petrified, unable even to blink with her eyes.

She really had to find out what had happened that night. Her big problem was that it could be anyone. So, she couldn't just walk up to them and ask without putting herself in danger. Not Lady Chauncey and not that stranger Volentine. There had to be a way to get information without drawing too much attention to herself. For now, it was enough that the attacker was probably under the impression that she was dead.

“Damn this!” she cried out and threw the blanket away from herself. Carefully, she pushed herself up and then held onto the screen. Her side twinged, but she wanted to get up and walk around.

Looking around, she noticed that it was only a small apartment. Her clothes had been spread out on a chair, which stood opposite the heater. A look out the window told her that the sun was already about to give off its last rays of sunshine for today. She must have slept for a long time.

With both hands she leaned onto the windowsill and pushed the window open. A cold gush of air rushed toward her and make her tremble when it reached her bare legs.

A creak at the door startled her. A key was inserted into the keyhole and turned, with a click it opened and was pushed open. A man came in, closed the door and stopped abruptly when he saw her at the window.

He was wearing the uniform of the City Watch. Now that she thought about it, the whole apartment was full of City Watch stuff. She remembered the shirts and pants in the color of the City Watch in the metallic shelf she saw before.

She did everything possible to avoid any authority. Everyone knew exactly what happened to abnormal people who accused themselves of witchcraft when the Overseers got hold of one. They never showed up again. The City Watch couldn't do any better.

He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. In the process, the brown hair he had swept back fell forward into his face.  Which brought Janet out of her thoughts again and she noticed how the cold air still flowed around her legs.

Embarrassed, she spun around, pulled the shirt down further with one hand and tried to close the window again with the other, but it started to jam. She cursed quietly.

The man was suddenly behind her and put his hands on the window to close it with a jerk.

"It sometimes sticks when you close it," he said in a low voice. Janet watched him walk back to the table and open a cloth bag he had with him. "I hope you like vegetable casserole and baked fish? Lorna makes the best casserole in town."

He pulled out a can and something that was wrapped in paper and laid it onto the table. Then he went to his metal shelf and grabbed two bowls and some silverware and went back to the table. When he opened the can, the entire room was immediately flooded with a warm delicious smell. Janet’s belly made her realize how hungry she actually was.

He filled the bowls with the casserole and opened the paper packets, from which a fried fish smell emanated. Then he looked at Janet and pointed to the chair.

"Come on, before it gets cold." He smiled and sat down across from her. She nodded and sat down on the other chair and immediately started to eat.

"Ah, before I forget. Here, some warm bread." He reached into the cloth bag again and pulled out a small loaf of bread, with a jerk he tore it in two and held the other half out to her.

“Thank you.” She said and took her half.

The vegetables were delicious, cooking perfectly in a spicy tomato sauce, complimented by the roasted fish. Although it was only simple ingredients, the cook knew how to turn it into a wonderful meal. Janet had to control herself not to gulp down everything immediately. Good that it was hot, which forced her to eat more slowly.

Her gaze slid to the stranger who was also slowly eating his food. He looked tired and had black circles under his eyes. His hair hung tousled in his face and his clothes were dirty. According to her, he must have found her in the water and had a long night and then a long work shift.

Then their eyes met. She wanted to open her mouth to ask one of her many questions but closed it again. He spoke nothing either, he just looked at her insistently. The next moment he looked away again. Janet dipped the bread into the sauce until there was nothing left.

"How's your side? Does it still hurt?" he casually asked and placed his bowl in hers as they finished their meals. With the dirty dishes he made his way to the sink and began to wash them.

Janet remained seated and responded, "Yes, it still hurts."

After a few moments he replied, "Mhm, I think so. The Doc gave me some medicine. Doesn't taste very good, but it does what it's s’posed  to."

When he was done with the dishes, he rummaged around on the metal shelf again, and pulled out a small brown bottle without label. 

Then he went back to her and knelt down in front of her, he unscrewed the bottle and poured the dark syrup into the cap of the bottle and held it out to her.

Janet took it and held the cap to her nose, the same bitter smell as the taste she had in her mouth when she woke up. With some reluctance she forced herself to swallow the stuff. She made a face and held the cap out to him again.

He took the cap and filled it a second time.

"And again." he said with amusement and held the cap out to her again.

"You serious?" Skeptically, she looked at the cap.

 He nodded twice in the cap's direction in an attempt to encourage cheer her. Janet grabbed the cap and quickly choked down the contents and pushed the cap into his hand.

"Good girl."  he smiled, screwed the bottle back on and put it back in the cupboard.

“Good girl? Do I look like a hound to you?” Janet said, stood up and waited for him to turn around. Then she asked, "Could I wash my hair?"

"Hey, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. Was just trying to break the ice a bit. But sure, to the right of the front door is the bathroom. And uh, the lock is missing." Then he clasped his hands at his sides and looked at her doubtingly. "You need help? Bending down doesn't seem like a good idea yet in your condition."

Hastily, she shook her head and rushed into the bathroom. "I can do this on my own."

Great, he was not lying, the lock was really missing in the door.

“How do you manage to break out a lock?” Janet sighed and muttered to herself, footsteps appeared behind her.

"By having idiot friends." Replied the Man and hung a clean towel on the hook in the bathroom and walked back out.

Janet looked around and found soap and shampoo. As he said, it was no easy task. For a while she tried to bend down, but this caused great pain, until she finally knelt down and managed to wash her hair in the bath sink.

It felt like forever, but finally her hair felt smooth and clean again. A smell of lemon was now in the air from the shampoo. She grabbed the towel, wrapped up her hair in it and went out of the bathroom.

The Man was sitting at the table again, he had taken off his metal collar. His blue jacket hung over the back of his chair. He looked up at her for a moment and then back at the pistol in front of him on the table. He had disassembled some parts and cleaned them with a brush and a cloth. Janet sat down across from him and watched him work.

"How is your name?"

He wanted to brush his hair out of his face with his hand and remembered at the last moment that it was smeared with oil. Instead, he then tried it with the upper arm.

" Name's Nicholaus" he answered and then took a can to the hand and sprayed the individual parts with oil."You were lucky I found you."

"Thank you." she whispered, which made him look up again. He seemed to want to read something in her gaze, but then looked away again. His face seemed to harden. Was he angry?

"Don't mention it." He continued to work on his pistol. She could see how his jaws seemed to grind on each other.

A red stain on his shirt made her curious, it looked fresh. The fabric around it was slightly torn.

“Are you bleeding?”

“What? Where?” He let go of the pistol piece and looked down at himself.

“On your arm.”

Her finger wandered to the spot, but Nicholaus was faster. He pulled the fabric aside and exposed a small cut. Nicholaus snorted once and continued to work on the gun. "Nothing wild."

Janet watched him for a while longer until she started to yawn. Fatigue crept into her limbs and mind.

"You're tired, you should sleep." commented Nicholaus.

The young woman rubbed her face with the heel of her hand and nodded.

Nicholaus stood up and held his arm out to her. She clasped it and he pulled her up against him. So, he led her to the bed and waited for her to cover herself, leaning forward he took the towel from her head. Then he wanted to turn around and go back to the table, but her voice made him look back.

"Nicholaus?"

"Hm?"

"I'm Janet."

His features softened, "Sleep well, Janet."

Chapter Text

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4
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D I S T I L L E R Y  D I S T R I C T,  D U N W A L L
5th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“Yes, I know it is dangerous what I'm asking you to do, but our profession requires dedication and sacrifice. If you bring me the story of the Bottle Street Gang, I assure you, we will welcome you into the Dunwall Courier with a kiss. I already see a lot of potential in you. With me you will have the chance to blossom!”

–AN LETTER BY CORYDON WOOD, Dunwall, Gristol, 1844
found in the belongings of Mathias Brewster

NO CLUES:

A man stood in the shadows of the backstreet. His tall appearance hid under a black heavy trench coat. The brim of his black hat obscured his eyes. The combination of dark colors made him merge with the shadows of the apartment building behind him. He leaned on his cane, to take away weight from his right leg, which hurt more today than usual. Perhaps a sign for a change in the weather.

His dark brown eyes were scanning the street ahead. It was morning and the street began to fill with people heading to work or at the market. A City Watch patrol came through from time to time, always the same two young guards. When they passed too close, he retreated further into the darkness.

His hand reached into the brown jacket under the black one, his fingers brushing the cold metal handle of his pistol, but he let it go. This was not the right place for a fight.

His eyes were fixed on one spot a group of local children had gathered. Most of them had their breakfast with them, then they began to trade it among themselves. His attention went to one of the girls, she was sitting on the curbside, clutching a doll wich had disheveled hair. A few golden curls fell into her face, the rest was carefully tied with a yellow ribbon at the back. Frequently, she looked down at the doll and stroked back her hair, then smiled with pride as if the doll were her greatest treasure. A girl with black hair sat down beside her and held out a piece of apple. Grateful, she took the piece and ate it.

At the same moment, a window opened in the middle row of the building behind her. A woman with the same golden hair looked out and called, "Little bee, come in. Breakfast is ready."

As the woman's gaze roamed the street, she smiled contentedly. Even from this distance he could see that her face was gaunt, too gaunt for his taste. An image of how he remembered her flashed before his eyes, with full red cheeks and the same warm smile on her lips. Her brown hazel eyes watching him curiously.

The man retreated deeper into the darkness before she spotted him. He clutched the handle of his cane tighter and clenched his teeth until his jaw began to tremble.

The girl stood up and knocked the dust from her pants with one hand, pressing the doll against herself with the other. Both girls waved to each other before she spun around and disappeared into the building.

At least fifteen minutes passed in which the man continued to stare at the open window, hoping she would look out again. However, he knew that now was not the time to hope for something. He had a task to take care of and he knew that his boss was already waiting impatiently for him, and he had better not keep him waiting.

With his free hand, he first pulled his coat into place and then his hat and then returned the way he came. With his thoughts deep in old memories.

It was the next morning and Nicholaus sat at his table, leaning with his forearms on the table. A mug with hot coffee before him. He enjoyed a few sips before leaning back. With both hands he stroked his hair back and sighed in frustration. He simply could not believe that she left. And he had not noticed it, because he was so tired yesterday that he had slept through like a rock.

The Doctor had mended the stranger, Janet, while Nicholaus watched him. When the old man was done, Nicholaus bandaged her wound while the Doctor cleaned his instruments. He took her to his apartment and had to change her wet clothes. He had two hours of sleep until his next shift. To his regret, the gangers were also very defiant yesterday and up for a brawl with the City Watch. His gaze flitted over his arm and Nicholaus had to growl at the realization that one of the bastards had caught him on the arm with his knife.

And now she was gone, left without a word. But what did he expect? He would have been disturbed and afraid, too, if he would wake up in a stranger’s apartment with a wound in the side. No, he did not resent her. He had no right to do so.

With a few more sips, he emptied the cup and placed it in the sink. Then he went to the bathroom to wash and took the last pair of clean clothes from the shelf. Tomorrow he really had to go to the washhouse. He reached for the cloth bag in the lowest shelf and stuffed all the dirty clothes into it. As he was about to finish changing, someone knocked on the door.

With languid steps, he walked toward the door and buttoned his shirt, asking, "Who is it?"

Someone with a deep voice tried to speak in a high pitch, "Hello Mister Brewster, I saw you at work yesterday and I think you are my prince charming."

He knew exactly who he was trying to imitate. Nicholaus had to grin and then rolled his eyes, fastening the last button. "Idiot." he whispered in amusement and opened the door.

Milorat stood in the hallway grinning broadly, in full City Watch uniform. He tried to speak again in his high-pitched voice that sounded really silly, "Mister..."

But Nicholaus cut him off, "What, are we back in kindergarten?" Then Nicholaus noticed the dark spot around his left eye, it seemed swollen. "Nice flower you have there, you didn't have that yesterday."

Milorat just shrugged, "Aldus actually managed to punch me yesterday. I'm a little proud of him."

Nicholaus turned around and grabbed his coat.

"You don't look very fresh these days either. Late nights?" Nicholaus could hear Milorat's emphasis and grin in the last two words.

"Something like that." Answered Nicholaus and put on the metallic collar. He grabbed his pistol and sword and then they both went out onto the street.

Nicholaus was glad, for once, that his workplace was on the same street as his apartment, so it was only a short walk to the estate of Stoten Kaylock and his daughter Lenora.

Stoten bought the building shortly after the rat plague and then ordered its renovation. During this time, he travelled back and forth between Potterstead and Dunwall to monitor progress. Stoten was a businessman through and through; He had set himself the ambitious goal of reviving the metal production of local businesses. Luck seemed to be on his side, now that many were rebuilding their businesses, metal was needed at every corner. His wealth increased, which allowed him to afford the fancy building on Clavering Boulevard. He was the single father of a beautiful but shy daughter. However, she seemed to feel comfortable in the presence of his small squad and always showed up to talk to them. To Nicholaus' surprise, she kept approaching him the most. She just avoided Captain Lynde, whose stoic sternness seemed to intimidate her.

Nicholaus and Milorat turned into the path that led to the house. An elaborate fence separated the property from the street. A well-kept garden before the house, on which Kasymir patrolled. He nodded to them when they noticed him, Milorat punched Nicholaus once lightly in the side, and then went to patrol with Kasymir. Captain Lynde stood on the balcony above the large front door, overlooking the street. Nicholaus walked in and was greeted directly by the house servants, who buzzed around like bees to fulfill their tasks.

Dennis leaning casually against the wall opposite the kitchen, talking with a young servant. He showed her the cut he had gotten on his arm, presumably in some heroic deed. The girl seemed completely under his spell and caressed his arm with both hands. When he noticed Nicholaus, he broke away from the conversation, blowing her a kiss. She giggled. Her cheeks got a slight blush then she quickly disappeared into the kitchen. The young man, with a big smile on his lips, came right up to him.

"Hey man, Lynde wants to see you." Nicholaus nodded at him and then turned toward the stairs. It was a two-story building, furnished with the finest quality. The staircase was in the middle of the building, the rest was arranged around it. The second floor around the staircase was open, only one corridor led along the walls. The ceiling had a large ornate window in the middle, the sun's rays projected the pattern onto the floor below. He could hear Stoten's friendly and open-hearted voice from one of the rooms, directing some servants to move furniture.

Nicholaus stopped at the open door and knocked on the doorframe. Stoten turned around.

"Good morning, Sir Kaylock." Nicholaus greeted him.

"Ah, yes, Sir Brewster, it's good to see you." Stoten was a tall man with a lanky body. He had short brown hair, which was combed back and he wore an gray suit of high quality of the same brand Milorat always wore from Drapers Ward. Round glasses sat on his nose. With one finger he pushed the glasses up a little, then he turned back to the servants. Beside him stood Tarrant, his personal bodyguard.

Tarrant was a young man who had already collected plenty of scars on his body. In yesterday's fight with the Bottle Street, he conscientiously charged forward to shield Lady Lenora and then helped push the gangers back into the gutter. The young soldier was a man of few words, however, his look always said more than enough. His reinforced clothing was impeccable and his hand always rested on the hilt of his sword at his hip. His light blue eyes bored suspiciously into Nicholaus, seeing danger in everyone.

Nicholaus continued down the floor and then opened the door to the balcony.

“Good morning Captain, you wanted to see me?”

Captain Lynde turned around: “Brewster, yes.” He pulled out a letter from his jacket and held it out to Nicholaus.

The guard took it and opened it right away, reading through the contents, he cursed, "This damn boy."

"Does your brother tend to get involved with gangers often?" asked Captain Lynde, crossing his arms.

Nicholaus lips became a thin line, he furrowed his brows and then sighed. His shoulders visibly slumped, "No, he's a total bookworm. I don't understand what's going on with him lately."

Captain Lynde’s gaze locked on Nicholaus. He slid the paper back into the envelope, then he felt the hand of his Captain on his shoulder.

"You are my best man, Nicholaus. I know you will take care of this. You may leave early today to get your brother out of the brig. Let him languish in the cell for a while until then. He will have enough time to think about everything. Maybe it will scare him enough."

“Thank you, Captain.”

Lynde nodded with satisfaction and turned back to the road, leaning on the railing with both hands. "All right, let's get to work and let’s hope the shift goes a little smoother than yesterday."

Nicholaus left Captain Lynde alone on the balcony and went back inside. He stopped in the floor, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, rolling it left and right, with a hope it would relieve some tension from his neck, which has built up in the last days.

“Good morning Sir Brewster,” a sweet light voice addressed him. A fine smell of lavender lingered in the air. He turned to the voice and opened his eyes. Somewhat more hesitantly, she added. “You look tense.”

“Lady Lenora, good Morning.”

Lenora was slightly smaller than Nicholaus, filled out in just the right places, he could not deny that. Her brown hair was pinned up, a dainty hair clip preventing her bangs from falling forward, she wore a light-lavender-colored suit with an overlong jacket that made it look like she was wearing some kind of dress. Her blue eyes watched him curiously.

"Does it have anything to do with the letter?" Her gaze slid down to his hand, in which he still held it.

"Eh," he folded the letter and slipped it into his pants pocket "It's not that impor-"

Her hands shot up to her face, "I'm sorry, it's not my business, I didn't mean to seem too nosy."

Nicholaus had to smile: “It’s fine Lady Lenora. It’s just about my brother, nothing I could not handle.”

The sight of his smile seemed to relax her, she smiled again too, but in the next moment her eyes were concerned.

"I was so worried about you yesterday. The confrontation with the Bottle Street gang looked so dangerous." She made a small step into his direction.

"We have trained for this. It's our job to avert any danger from you and your father. Don't worry about it." He straightened himself, folded his hands on his back and was about to say something, but then stopped when he saw Stoten peeking out of the room.

“Lenora, darling. Can you help me out please?”

She half-turned and nodded to her father, then looked at Nicholaus again. "Until later, then."

Nicholaus nodded at her, "Of course."

Dennis leaned on the railing on the opposite side. With one finger he pointed at Lenora, which was just about to turn into the room. In the next moment he made noisy kissing noises. Then he let his fingers tipple along the railing until he came to a stop at Nicholaus and laid a hand on his shoulder, "Man, she's totally into you."

"Don't talk nonsense." Nicholaus snorted, then he added: "You know, you and Milorat are really impossible!" He gave Dennis a little slap on the back of his head, with his cap almost slipping off. Dennis laughed and tried to ward off more slaps.

Both returned to their patrols, Dennis patrolling the right side of the main floor and Nicholaus the left. Nicholaus did not allow himself to be distracted by the servants, but he could not stop thinking about the beautiful stranger Janet. Somewhere there was a spark of hope to meet her again and he hoped she was well, considering the unsightly wound. Dennis, on the other hand, chatted cordially with almost every person who walked by.

The hours passed uneventfully. As the late afternoon approached, Lady Lenora made her way out of the house, a light-colored cloak wrapped around her petite figure. Stoten's personal guard followed her every step of the way.

 "Don't forget to stop by Mrs. Wendar, she has something for me," he could hear the voice of Stoten above.

 "Yes, Father." She called up and then stopped in the middle of the entrance hall, her eyes flitting around until she caught sight of Nicholaus.

Her hand peeked out from under her coat, and she waved at him, shyly. Nicholaus nodded his farewell, a smile at the corner of his lips. Tarrant, who opened the door for Lady Lenora, gave him a grim look.

Both groups switched places and after another hour Captain Lynde came up to Nicholaus and let him off the leash, as promised.

Nicholaus headed to the outpost near the Estate District, where they detained people with minor offenses, not important enough to necessarily send them to jail.

He was not sure how to handle the situation, especially since he did not understand what his brother was up to. Captain Lynde must have gone through some trouble to convince Major Abanese Commins not to squeeze his brother completely and to see it only as a low crime to enter a house with some Bottle Street gangsters and get caught. Still, he had to have a serious talk with Mathias and somehow bring him to his senses.

The guards at the entrance greeted him as he entered the large bleak building. Behind him, he could hear two guards on the street arguing about which one should bring in the boxes on the cart. As the door closed, their voices were muffled.

His footsteps echoed in the entrance hall as he walked straight towards the reception desk. Narrow windows on the walls let the last rays of the sun dance across the floor.

An older guard sat at it, leafing through a stack of papers. He was not bothered to look up at Nicholaus.

"Badge number and reason."

Nicholaus told him his badge number and pulled out the letter Captain Lynde had handed him. The guard took it and quickly skimmed the contents.

"Mhh, the Brewster boy. Good, you can go down."

As Nicholaus was about to turn around, the guard stopped him.

"Oh wait, he had this letter with him." He opened a drawer and pulled out a letter and held it out to Nicholaus.

Nicholaus took it and pulled the paper out of the envelope. Heavy paper, good quality. Reading through, he stopped abruptly and growled. His nostrils flared in annoyance.

"Corydon Wood?! Silly boy." he whispered. Of course, he was so stupid. Clearly, it had something to do with the Dunwall Courier. They were just hunting for the best stories. Corydon Wood was especially good at riding other people into the dirt, just to get a good story for himself, regardless of losses. Nicholaus knew how important it was to Mathias, how much he looked up to the people at the Dunwall Courier. They were heroes to him, bringing every dirty little secret to light, destroying the bad guys and saving the innocent with the power of written words.

He continued down the hallway, a large, reinforced door in the middle leading him down one floor.

A long corridor opened to him, bordered by many small cells. He saluted the guard and walked on, the guard following him. He passed two prisoners and stopped at the third. Mathias seated on the bench inside, his face paled the moment as he recognized Nicholaus, who shot him an angry look.

Nicholaus pointed to Mathias' cell, the guard nodded and then dug out a bunch of keys and opened the cell door.

"Come out," Nicholaus ordered. The guard moved away again to the exit.

With his head crouched, Mathias stood up and stepped out into the corridor, not daring to look his older brother in the face. His clothes and cheeks were dirty. His eyes swollen. He must have been crying.

Nicholaus pushed up his chin and snorted. Good thing, Mathias must have thought hard about his mistakes. Then he turned around, back up the stairs and out of the building. Mathias followed him on his heels.

The two guards from earlier and the cart were now gone. Nicholaus stopped and scratched his chin, then turned to Mathias, who was still staring at the floor.

"Are you alright? No injuries?" he asked and tried to get the anger out of his voice. His eyes flew over his body.

Mathias shook his head and clasped his own hands.

"Good." Nicholaus tilted his head and sighed, watching him for some more moments.

"Do you want to tell me something about it?" he held up the heavy envelope. Mathias' eyes widened and snapped to the envelope, he tried to reach for it.

"That's mine!" he protested.

But Nicholaus was faster, his hand shooting behind his back, out of Mathias' reach.

"This man, Wood. I know his sort of man, he's a bad influence."

"But he works at the Dunwall Courier."

"Working for a newspaper doesn't make him a saint. I'll have to pay him a small visit."

"But..." Mathias swallowed visibly.

Nicholaus crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "It's one thing to test a person for a job. Yet it's quite another to send a boy into the ranks of a gang to uncover some dirty secrets. Secrets have their price. Besides, Wood is just a small fish in the Dunwall Courier. There are other people who have more to say. Don't take his word for it."

In a smooth motion, Nicholaus tore the letter to shreds, the individual pieces slowly floating to the ground.

A thunderclap echoed somewhere in the distance, and they both looked up. Smell of rain in the air.

"Come, I'll take you home." He put his arm around Mathias' shoulders, turned him around, and they both walked away.

It took Janet most of the morning to find Lady Chauncey's estate again. Then she had spent the rest of the day sneaking around the estate to discover something that could help her understand yesterday's events. To her dismay, she found not a single clue.

All she could observe was that the servants were cleaning up the mess from the party and guests, who had stayed overnight, were leaving throughout the day.

Her side was still hurting badly, too. She gritted her teeth as the pain was once again unbearable and supported herself with one hand on a nearby stone wall. It was not easy to look normal. Passersby eyed her suspiciously and moved out of her way.

She was annoyed that all her belongings were with Lady Chauncey. Clothes and coins. To be able to take a hotel room one needed coins. It was also no help that she knew no one here in Dunwall. Well, except for the City Watch guard, leaning against the stone wall with her back, she buried her face in her hands and had to laugh.

There was no other choice but to make her way back, looking around she spotted a dark alley on her left. She scurried into the alley and looked up at the edge of the roof, it was quiet. The last rays of sunlight fought their way through the thick blanket of storm clouds in the sky. Soon it would be dark.

She focused her entire mind on the edge of the roof, in the next moment she inhaled and her body tore itself apart, like cloth that seemed to consist only of smoke. For a brief moment, the veil lifted, and Janet thought she could stare into the Void. In those moments, the Void was like a hungry beast that wanted to devour her completely and reclaim what belonged to the dark-eyed bastard. After a heartbeat, the feeling disappeared.

Exhaling, her body settled back on the roof. She slumped forward and found herself breathing and coughing frantically, her fingers reaching for support in the metal furrows of the roof. This was not good, she had to get to his apartment as soon as possible, or she would spend the night collapsed, on a roof. With shaky legs, she pulled herself up and slowly walked to the other side of the house. She had to climb up the incline and then slithered back down the other side.

That is what she had now, since the event in Tamarak, she hardly touched the gifts of the Outsider. Too much she feared to kill someone with it again.

The emptiness of the Void gathered in her and changed when it was united with her life spirits, turning to something else, something magical. She could never accurately describe this energy. When she closed her eyes, she could see the blue mana wavering around her. With her fingers, she could draw patterns in it, so dense it seemed around her. She had not noticed such an aura in anyone else except herself.

But with each stride the mana decreased and drained her completely. Left her with an emptiness that was different from the Void. An emptiness that hurt, like thousands of needles piercing first through the flesh, further into the bones, and finally into the soul itself.  She had to take breaks and wait for the familiar Void of the black-eyed, which slowly crept back into her body, making her whole again. To make matters worse, rain clouds were now gathering in the evening sky, bathing Dunwall in all facets of gray. People on the street below her also slowly moved to the warm fires in their homes.

Finally she reached the street with the guard's apartment. She leaned forward to make sure there was no one below her. In the right moment she caught a glimpse of a pair of guards who were just turning into an alley and talking. With one last stride she landed in front of his house and crawled through the open door into the dark hallway. No one had noticed her. At least she hoped so.

Her vision started to blur more and more, with each stride, so that it took her a few moments to dare to stand up. With one hand propped against the wall, she slowly walked to his apartment door and knocked. A squeak of a chair on wooden floor came through the door, then footsteps and with a clack the door opened. A streak of light fell on her face, the beam grew larger. She had to squint her eyes.

"By the Outsider, Janet! You look terrible!" she could hear his worried voice.

His hand rested on her shoulder, and he led her into the apartment, then he closed the door with his other hand. When he noticed how shaky Janet was on her feet, he moved closer to her and encircled her upper arms with his hands, gently trying to hold her upright.

He led her to the couch and let her sit down, his hands hovering over her arms as he did so, ready to help her if she could not make it on her own.

"We should go to the doctor," he suggested. "Or I could bring him here."

Alarmed, Janet shook her head and smiled weakly at him. "No, that's not necessary, I just need to rest." Her shoulders and head slumped forward. She propped her elbows on her knees and took a few deep breaths. "Just rest a little." She whispered.

He went back to the dining table and turned the chair around towards her, to sit down on it. Janet could feel his gaze on her. After a while, when she was sure that her surroundings did not start spinning again, she leaned back with her hands on her lap.

Although he radiated a calmness, Janet could see that his body was tense. He was still watching her closely, ready to dash forward to help her if necessary. He tried to look for clues in her eyes, but Janet could not withstand his gaze for long. Her eyes darted down to her fingers. Her own heartbeat and the crackling of the fire in the stove seemed far too loud to her now in the silence of the moment.

"I didn't expect to see you again." Nicholaus broke the silence.

"I thought... I cannot go back there. At least not now." Janet whispered, then looked up at him.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, and his lips became a thin line before he asked, "Why i found you in the waters of Wrenhaven? With an unsightly wound?"

Her head tilted down and she stared at the ground. Her eyes followed the grain of the wooden floor and she chewed on her lower lip, still playing with her fingers. Could she tell him? Someone had attacked her, not the other way around. The law was usually on the side of the victim and he was part of the law. What could go wrong?

Just as she was about to straighten herself up to answer him, she winced as sharp pain reminded her of the wound again. The chair creaked and immediately Nicholaus kneeled in front of her. His face was creased with worry.

"The medicine will help you through the night, tomorrow we should see the doctor." He got up, took the dark medicine bottle from the cupboard and walked with quick steps to the dining to reach for the plate, which Janet only now noticed. A slice of dark bread with cheese was on it and half a fig. He set the plate on her lap.

"Eat this first, the medicine did not work so good on an empty stomach.”

"But this is your dinner." Janet protested and wanted to put the plate back in his hand. With his index finger and thumb, he gripped the edge of the plate and gently pushed it back down.

"Please, eat. I guess you haven't eaten anything. I'm fine with the apple I still have." He reached for the cloth bag next to the table, fished out a red apple and bit into it, then pointed to the plate in her hand.

Tentatively, Janet began to eat the slice of bread. It felt good to have something in her stomach. During the day she had been so busy thinking about all possible scenarios and worries that she had completely suppressed her hunger.

Nicholaus finished his apple and poured her a glass of water. When she had finished the glass and the plate was empty, Nicholaus smiled at her with approval.

This time Janet even accepted the bitter medicine in eager anticipation. She wanted the pain to go away and last time it had helped wonderfully. He poured her two capfuls and then put the half full bottle away.

Nicholaus cleaned up and then turned around, leaning back against the sink, his hands clasped the edge, just looking at her.

"Back again to the question from earlier," he said.

Janet pulled her legs up onto the couch, her arm resting on the side rest. Better to have one ally than no one, she decided.

"I was invited to a party at the home of a noble lady. The party went well, I met some new people. Until..." she stopped and looked away. "Then there was this red grimace, a mask, I think. Grinning at me. A knife flashed and then I woke up here in your bed." she told him with a hushed tone.

"So you don't know who attacked you?" asked Nicholaus.

Janet shook her head and looked up at him again.

He frowned. His eyes lost in thoughts for a few moments.

"It could have been anyone who was at that party," he concluded.

Janet nodded to his realization. "Kind of pretty messed up. You come to Dunwall for the first time and right away someone is trying to murder you," she whispered, then laughed bitterly.

"They probably think you're dead."

"I suppose so."

Nicholaus pushed away from the sink and kneeled in front of her again. His hand rested on the side rest, his fingertips lightly brushing her arm.

"You should use that to your advantage."

"I was going to try today, but this damn wound..." frustrated, Janet narrowed her eyes.

"My place isn't exactly the biggest, and you'll probably need a safe place to sleep. So, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like. Cure the wound. There's no point in torturing yourself." He suggested and then waited for Janet to look at him before he added. "But I have one condition."

Janet gave him a questioning look.

"Next time you leave, feel free to say goodbye. Then I won't have to worry."

“I-I will. I promise.” An apology in her eyes.

Nicholaus nodded and stood up, stretching his arms up, then massaging his neck with one hand. Outside it was slowly getting night and a rain has started to patter against the windows.

"I'm pretty tired, what do you say, we head to sleep?"

"Yes, sleep sounds good." said Janet, looking at the couch. "I can sleep on the couch, then you can go back to sleeping in your bed."

But Nicholaus just shook his head. "No, as long as you have the wound, you should sleep in bed, you'll get the best rest there."

Then he turned to the bathroom. "I'll go change. You should do the same."

Janet pushed herself up from the side rest and stood up. The clothes she had folded in the morning were still lying where she had left them on the bed.

Just as in the morning, she felt quite awkward changing clothes. The pain twinged but the medicine makes it a little more bearable, with clenched teeth she dressed her clothes and slipped under the covers. Her eyes darted over the books piled on the floor. Many titels she did not know, with names that proclaim a longing for the sea. Her fingers stroked over a dark blue book cover. The leather was rough and worn with golden patterns on the edges.

"One of my favorite stories." His voice startled her.

He had changed his pants to dark cloth pants. His upper body was free. With his back turned to her, he reached for a long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over himself. Janet could not help but gape at his large back and wondering about the scars on it. Then he turned around and came toward her.

"What is it about?" She asked quickly.

He squatted down and grinned at her, "I can read it to you or you can figure it out for yourself." He picked up the book and gently stroked the cover, then held it out to her.

Janet had to think of her brother, normally she was the one who always got to read him stories, but that was too long ago. It made her heart heavy what Nicholaus seemed to see.

"We don't have to do anything, it's a story about..." he wanted to interject hastily but the touch of her hand on his made him fall silent.

"No, please. I would like to hear it from you."

He beamed at her now like a happy child and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

"It's my mother's favorite story, too, and my father's, but he would never admit it." He laughed and opened the first page. So, Janet fell asleep, to the sound of his voice and the soft pattering of the rain.

PAGE 1:
The boy sat on the edge of the cliff, the sea rushing against the rocks below him. Like something alive that wanted to escape the black depths. Above him, storm clouds gathered in the sky and the air filled with the scent of rain and salt.

The boy watched the waves, for him they were magical. It was as if the dark water tugged at his soul, as if he belonged to the water and not to the dry land.

Day after day the boy came to the cliff and watched the water. Sometimes from early in the morning until late in the evening. He remembered the day when he first saw a whale in the water, it seemed to swim directly towards him, its big dark eyes seemed to watch him, the boy thought it was the most beautiful day of his young life so far.

But on this day, he saw something else in the dark depths, a brilliant light in the middle of the water. It became bigger and brighter, until finally a white whale stuck its head out of the water. The boy could not believe it. He blinked his eyes once too long, and the light was gone. Only the dark waves were left.

Chapter Text

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5
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D I S T I L L E R Y D I S T R I C T, D U N W A L L
6th Day, Month of Harvest, 1844

“Ladies and Gentlemen, finally Milorat "Gentleman" Vonturell and Ben "One Eye" Vergas face each other in the ring. We have been waiting for this fight for a long time. Do not miss it and come to Steel Cell in Slaughterhouse Row on the 10th Day, in the Month of Harvest. 10 coins entrance fee.”

–GENTLEMAN VS.ONE EYE, Dunwall, Gristol, 1844
Posting in the streets of Dunwall

FREE DAY 🙜

The tall man with the heavy dark coat pulled his hat off his head as he walked to the metallic door. From the other side, his distorted faint reflection in the blue metal surface of the door came toward him when he went down the dark wooden hallway in the basement of the villa. The only thing that could be heard was the rhythmic yet steady beating of fists on a sandbag in the hall behind the door and the click of his cane. Twice he knocked and then waited to be invited in.

After a few moments he heard the calm voice of his boss, Volentine Edevane. "Come in." he said. The man entered the hall and closed the door behind him. Volentine was still standing at the punching bag, practicing his sequences.

The hall was big, on the long side there were narrow windows under the ceiling, letting in the first rays of the sun. The punching bag and other training equipment were placed close to the wall on the other side near the door. Some folded towels, glasses, a water jug, documents with writing utensils and books had been neatly spread on the table next to the door. The rest of the hall was empty. Bare masonry was painted with dark blue paint. The floor was naked ashen concrete. Only the area with the training equipment was covered with a wooden floor. Weeks ago, Volentine had commissioned the refurbishment of the premises of his old family villa. Although he had been back in Dunwall for a few weeks, there was still the faint smell of fresh paint in the air.

The man positioned himself next to the table and leaned on his cane with both hands, then he waited for Volentine to finish.

Volentine wore thin gray cloth pants and a dark shirt. Dark spots under the armpits and on the back showed that he must have been here for a while. He was not bothered by the man’s presence. The grey haired had his body perfectly under control, his breathing was even, as were the blows of his fists. Two slow sequences of punches followed a quick series of fast ones. Then he stood in front of the bag in a fighting stance and breathed. Slowly in and out. He repeated this several times.

Then, finally, Volentine seemed to have enough. He walked towards the table, reaching for the towel with one hand and wiping the sweat from his face and neck. The man's eyes flitted over the tattoo on Volentines neck for a moment, then he quickly looked straight again. With the other Volentine poured water from the jug into a glass and took a few sips. Out of the corner of his eye, the man could see Volentine leaning against the table and then watching him.

"Good to have you back, Jahleel." Jahleel nodded and turned to him, holding his gaze. The tall man knew any sign of weakness. Volentine finished his glass and set it down beside him on the table.

"Did you find her?" he asked, curiosity flashing in his eyes. He raised his hand and stroked his sticky hair back. Again Jahleel nodded. The curiosity swung into a satisfied smile and Volentine turned around to reach for a folder. He pulled out an envelope and wrote something on the front and held it out to Jahleel.

"Please bring this to her, I hope she accepts my invitation." He knew Volentine did not care about his opinion, so he did not bothered to react to his last sentence. Jahleel took the envelope and stowed it in his inner jacket. The attention of the grey haired man was already back on his fists, he tightened the straps on them to return to the punching bag.

Jahleel put on his hat and left the blue hall, the clacking of his cane at his side.

Although the streets were still glistening from the night's rain, it was a sunny day. Perfect for a walk. Nicholaus had led Janet to the market in the Distillery District. It was noon and the market pulsed with life. Merchants were pricing their wares. Residents of Dunwall scurried through the aisles between the market stalls, looking for the best deals. Whether a rich nobleman or a poor wretch with only a few coins, everyone was represented here.

Nicholaus and Janet had just finished their meal and were standing a little apart, on the quay wall to the Wrenhaven River, watching ships and boats unload their goods at the nearby trading port. Some were transported on to a warehouse and the rest was received by merchants who had it carried either to their market stalls or to their stores.

He thought about what would be the best plan for today. Lunch he could check off directly as the first. Next stop should be the wash house to give the women enough time to do his laundry. In the meantime it would be best to pay a visit to the Doctor. His gaze slid to Janet, he had been keeping a close eye on her the whole morning. She pretended not to be in pain, but every now and then when she moved, she slightly distorted her face and quickly turned away from him. A picture of how weak and sallow she was at his door last night crept through his thoughts and he feared she would collapse at any moment, like a house of cards.

After the Doctor it should be late enough for dinner at the Last Garden Pub. Nicholaus nodded, a small list they had to work through. Again his eyes slid to her and he hoped he wasn't asking too much. In the morning he had suggested she could spend the day in bed, he would have taken care of everything. But she wanted to get out, wanted to do something. He could feel how frustrated and useless she felt. With her bright blue eyes, she had begged him to take her with him, and he could not refuse.

She curiously observed the market stalls and people. Her hands rubbed up her arms and she seemed to notice his gaze. She looked over at him as he was about to shift the bag of clothes on his back and tilted his head toward the entrance gate. She understood and nodded, then followed him through the crowd of people passing the large gate. The gate was guarded by the City Watch, they greeted Nicholaus when they recognized him and then eyed Janet curiously.

As Janet caught up with him, he told her about his plan for today. She agreed to everything and gestured forward with one hand.

Nicholaus decided that the way over the Kaldwin Bridge was too long, and he had another idea. Their path led them along the riverbank for a while, until they reached an area that seemed to drop into the river. Most of the buildings here had been abandoned and destroyed, mercilessly flooded with water and impossible to live in, but one building still stood dangerously close to the water level. “Andy’s Fish Shop”, was written in large letters above the entrance, “since 1764”, was written in small letters under it.

Conversations could already be heard from outside, and the loud friendly voice of Andy. Nicholaus took a step through the open door. A group of people surrounded Andy at the counter, a torrent of words washed over to him, but he did not understand them because they were all talking at the same time. A girl with a broom swept the store, when she noticed Nicholaus she grinned and waved at him. The two braided pigtails of her brown hair swayed with the movement. He waved back and she leaned the broom against the wall next to her and walked over to him.

"Nicholaus! So good to see you!" She said in a squeaky voice, laughing and hugging him.

"Hey Naya, you alright?" he laughed as well and gave her a squeeze. Her big blue eyes widened a bit more when her gaze fell on Janet who was still standing behind him outside. Curious, she looked back at Nicholaus.

"I'm fine, Daddy's busy with the store, I'm helping as much as I can." She let go of him and her eyes darted back to Janet.

Nicholaus knelt down in front of her, "Can you ask Andy if I can borrow a boat? We need to get over to Drapers Ward, wouldn't take long."

"I will ask!" she said quickly and scurried over to her father. After a while and persistent tugging at his shirt, he leaned down, his eyes roamed the store and stuck on Nicholaus. He whispered something into her ear and she came running back.

"Daddy agrees," she said happily, reaching for Nicholaus hand. The girl pulled him with her out of the store and further along the building until they came to a wooden shack. All the while, her eyes looked over to Janet, who was smiling at the girl.

Nicholaus helped her open the gate to the shack, two boats were tied to the jetty inside. One side was open to the river. She skillfully hopped over the boxes scattered in the way and detached the boat from the dock.

"You can use this one." She threw the rope into the motorboat und turned around to Nicholaus.

Nicholaus followed her, trying not to trip over the boxes then tousled her brown braided hair, threw the laundry bag inside and went on starting the motorboat's engine.

"I'm Naya." he could hear her speak behind him.

"Nice to meet you Naya. I'm Janet." he heard Janet's answer. "Your hair is so great braided. You look so cute. Do you do it yourself?"

Naya giggled, "No, Mrs. Arken does it every morning. We sleep in her apartment across the street. Daddy doesn't want me to sleep in the fish store, it shakes a lot at times and he's afraid it will break into the river when we sleep." Then she was silent for a moment. "Your hair looks like the sun outside."

Now Janet had to giggle. "You're such a sweet girl."

The next moment, the engine howled to life and Nicholaus turned around to Janet to hold out his hand and help her into the boat. She took his hand and carefully climbed in, her lips were pressed tightly together as she tried not to contort her face in pain. Nicholaus sighed and scolded himself for having taken her with him more every minute that passed. Then she sat down on the bench at the back and threw him a small smile because she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Nicholaus sat at the side bench to operate the boat.

Slowly the boat moved around and he carefully steered it out through the open side onto the river.

"Be back soon." He called over to Naya. The girl walked along the jetty and waved at them.

On the river, a light breeze accompanied them toward Drapers Ward which was just across the river from the Distillery District.

"Naya is a good girl, so young and so full of joy." said Janet, looking at Nicholaus.

He nodded: "I'm glad they stayed so cheerful. She lost her mother to the Rat Plague."

"It was pretty bad here back then, wasn't it?"

"Not a nice time to think back.” His gaze wandered over the river. "Everyone seemed to lose something at that time, so I'm lucky that nothing happened to my family.” His features became hard and guilty. So many of his friends had lost their families. He was grateful, but he could not fight the guilt, which always builds up in his.

Janet said nothing more and hung on to her thoughts, playing with her fingers. His gaze fell on the black glove she wore constantly, her fingers tugging at it’s edge. When she noticed his gaze on the glove, she quickly slid her hand under her thigh.

It was not long before they reached Drapers Ward, Nicholaus maneuvering the engine boat around to the right along the shore, until they stopped at an outpost of the Watch. One of the guards approached him, Tim Albur, a young lad new to the City Watch. He had a grin on his lips and ran a hand through his short blond hair. His cheeks were still lined with baby fat.

"Hey Nicholaus." He greeted him.

"Good day, Tim. How's the shift going, everything okay?" Nicholaus stood up and took the fastening rope in his hand.

"All quiet so far. On your way to the wash house?"

"Yeah, can I leave the boat here?"

"Sure, we'll keep an eye on it."

Nicholaus hoisted the laundry bag and mounted the boat at the dock.

"Can I help you out, miss?" he heard Tim's voice.

Janet answered him hesitantly, "Um... sure."

"Are you okay miss, you look pretty pale."

Nicholaus adjusted his jacket and turned around again. Tim had helped her out and looked at her with concern. "I'm fine. Thank you." she answered and smiled weakly at him, then looked at Nicholaus.

"It won't take long. Let’s go Janet." He held out his arm to her, with hurried steps she came up to him and hooked on.

It was a small outpost, a hut and some barriers. Another guard stood around the shore looking through binoculars, when Nicholaus and Janet passed him, he looked up briefly and nodded at them.

Then the outpost was behind them and they reached the edge of Drapers Ward, a long street which wound down Wrenhaven, turned a corner and ended in a dead end along a canal. An area away from the fine boutiques in the shadows of Drapers Ward, and people liked it that way. Some stores had been rebuilt, and sold good reasonably priced clothing. A wash house was at the end of it, which had signed a contract with City Watch. The presence of the Watch in the street led many to move back into the surrounding houses and live peacefully. This deal helped to keep the street safe, not inviting enough for thugs and thieves, who could potentially steal more goods from the richer stores, deeper in Drapers Ward.

The washhouse was a large building with tall, rounded windows misted from the haze of humid heat within. They had almost reached the building and the fine smell of soap was in the air. Large pipes led from the ground and curved into the building, passing by, Nicholaus could hear soft gurgling of water inside, and now and then the squeaking of metal.

A cluster of guards lingered at the open door, idly exchanging gossip; they made way as Nicholaus and Janet approached. The building was one big hall, with some rooms splitting off in opposite directions. To the left and right along the wall, the floor dropped off, rails on it led to a basement area under the hall. The entire floor was tiled, but time had taken much of the shine away. At the point where the large pipes entered outside, they split inside and led along the ceiling to other large equipment, washing machines and disappeared in the walls and ground. Clotheslines stretched under the ceiling, hung with white sheets and clothing bags. The humid, muggy heat inside causing beads of sweat to form on Nicholaus' forehead. He wiped his arm across it.

A whole crowd of women dressed in white scurried around inside. Transported carts with clothes back and forth, loading and unloading washing machines. Apart from this, the hall was dominated by Alfie Graham’s voice. The woman was a black-haired beauty. She wore probably the finest dress in the area. It shone in a rich green hue and stood out right from the rest. Her long dark curls were tied in a ponytail, but some curls stuck to the front of her face and neck. She was behind a counter near the entrance door, some workers were buzzing around her. When her dark eyes recognized Nicholaus, she quickly shooed them away.

"I was wondering when you'd show up here again." She planted her hands on her hips, tilted her head a little, and winked at him. Her voice echoed through the large hall. More of her thick curls slid down her shoulder. What marred her beauty, just a little, however, was one long scar that went across her face and disappeared under her dress. Tattoos snaked up her arm and ended in her cleavage as well.

Nicholaus was unable to help himself and grinned back at her. When he came to a stop in front of the counter, she let her hand slide forward and he grabbed it to breathe a kiss on it. "You look beautiful as always, dear Alfie."

Alfie bent over and grabbed his chin. "You ol’sweet talker." Then she let go of him again and they both laughed.

As he turned around he could see Janet looking back and forth between the two of them, unsure. "Alfie, may I introduce you, this is Janet." He placed his hand lightly on the small of her back and turned back to Alfie. His features immediately brightened when he said her name and pride glittered in his eyes..

"Nice to meet you." said Janet, giving a slight curtsy.

"No need to be formal." Alfie laughed and came around the counter. She called a worker over, a large muscular man suddenly appeared next to her. Nicholaus felt Janet startle. Alfie placed her hand on the man's arm. The giant seems out of place among all the women.

"Honey, can you please take Nicholaus' laundry to Marny?"

"Of course." the man replied in a raspy voice. He was covered with the same tattoos as Alfie. Nicholaus held out the laundry bag to him, and he disappeared with it into a room to the right.

"Can you make it today?" asked Nicholaus and pulled his hand back again.

"Give us a few hours." She reached for a thick book and turned it around to face her, stroking a finger along the list inside. "You live on Clavering Boulevard, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "We'll send a boy there in the evening, he can deliver your clothes to your apartment."

"That would be perfect." replied Nicholaus.

Then she turned back around to look at Nicholaus and Janet.

"We have some work to do today, and we don't want to hold you up any further in your chores." Nicholaus said to her and smiled apologetically. He knew how hard she was always working.

Alfie asked as she went back behind the counter, "Are you coming to the Steel Cell for Milos fight?"

"Of course, I can't let Milorat down, he's been training hard for this day."

Satisfied, Alfie nodded and leaned on the counter with both hands. "Take good care of your friend, Niko." Her eyes rested on Janet then she smiled at Nicholaus.

The small cluster at the entrance had dispersed. The door had been closed. Nicholaus went ahead, opened the door and waited for Janet to go through.

As they walked toward the outpost. Janet broke the silence, "You two seem to know each other well."

Nicholaus looked at her and she studied his face, "Alfie? Yes, she used to live on our street when we were kids, then we lost track of each other. Until I found out she had joined the Dead Eels." His expression contorted at that. "At some point, I suddenly ran into her behind the counter at the wash house. I always liked her, she's a good person to talk to."

Janet let out an "Ohh.” And added then. “That big man, was he part of the gang, too?"

Nicholaus put his hands in his pockets, "Ro Graham, her husband. From what I heard. He was the reason they both got out again. He's got quite a reputation, which is probably why they're both still alive. Gangs are not very gentle with those who try to get out."

Sadness flitted across her face and Nicholaus wondered what she was thinking about. But before he could ask, she looked at him again and smiled, her gaze passing through him and her eyes grew wide. He turned his head in the direction she looked, it was a small boutique. A woman walked out and closed the door again, satisfied with a shopping bag in her hand.

She was right, she couldn't run around in the same clothes forever. It would also help to change them, so the guests from that party would not recognize her so easily. He looked at her again and nodded toward the boutique.

she said in a much too high voice and wanted to protest further but Nicholaus cut her off.

"It's okay. I really don't mind

He followed her in. It was a small store, a saleswoman stood behind the counter and smiled at both. The smell of old wood and leather was in the air.

Nicholaus looked around and spotted two chairs next to him, then sat on one and watched Janet. Excited, she began rummaging through the clothes. He liked to see her so happy.

The saleswoman walked up to her. "Can I help you pick out something nice? I'm sure we can find something your boyfriend will like."

Her eyes darted from Janet to Nicholaus. Nicholaus leaned back and had to grin in amusement. Janet next to her looked at him with wide eyes, then her cheeks turned red, and she quickly looked back down at her hands holding a pair of black pants.

"He's..." she wanted to start, but the saleswoman choked her off mid-sentence and pulled her to another part in the store.

He was unable to deny it, he liked the idea that the saleswoman thought they were a couple. It had been a while since he had been in a serious relationship. The time in the Rat Plague and afterwards was so crazy that he never really had the time to think about it. It was no help that he belonged to the Watch, the trust in the City Watch in the Rat Plague had decreased and now only slowly rose again. No one really wanted to be friends with people from the Watch. Then his shifts were also so miserably long that he refused to do that to a girlfriend. So he remained by himself.

Both women began to go through the clothes, repeatedly he caught Janet looking over at him. Sometimes the look was full of remorse then again full of fascination. After a while they had put together two outfits, and she accompanied Janet to the dressing room.

Curious, Nicholaus waited for her to come out again. He leaned forward and supported himself with his arms on his knees. The saleswoman gave her the clothes one after the other, Janet seemed to be trying around. It took a while until she was out of the dressing room again. Her lower lip pulled between her teeth, she then looked down at herself. Her lip popped out again.

Next to the dressing room was a mirror set in a wooden frame. Janet looked at herself in it. Her hands slid over the fabric of her dark gray jacket, which fastened with two buttons at the top. Underneath she wore a black vest. For pants, she had chosen a pair of dark gray hip-high pants.

Her eyes darted to Nicholaus, he smiled and nodded. The saleswoman clapped her hands happily. She seemed very pleased with herself. Nicholaus raised his eyebrow and he had to laugh softly. Then he stood up and walked towards Janet. "Looks good on you."

Her cheeks turned pink again. "Thank you." she whispered.

"Will that be all? You can choose more." He asked, letting his gaze wander.

"No, I think that's enough for now." replied Janet. Nicholaus turned to the saleswoman, who immediately nodded and then told him a total at the register. Nicholaus paid and the saleswoman handed them a paper bag in which Janet put her old clothes.

They left the store and walked side by side again. Nicholaus reached for the bag and took it from her hand.

"Hey, I can carry this too." she protested.

Nicholas pursed his lips and leaned a little in her direction, "Not on my watch." She shook her head and snorted with a laugh.

They reached the outpost again, most of the guards were at the entrance to the hut, with a group of residents who seemed in a heated discussion. The voices grew louder and were then drowned out by another voice, the captain came out of the hut and tried to calm them down. Tim came out of the crowd towards Nicholaus, he came to a stop in front of him next to the boat.

"Everything all right over there?" asked Nicholaus, nodding toward the hut.

"Oh, there seemed to have been a robbery further in, now everyone here is a bit panicked." told Tim.

"Those damn gangsters never sleep." he said, lost in thought, as he detached the boat from the dock again.

Tim laughed briefly, "Yeah, that's right."

Nicholaus helped Janet get back into the boat and set the shopping bag down next to her before sitting down at the side again, after starting the engine.

"Albur!" called the captain's voice. "Come on boy, enough chatter."

With one foot Tim pushed the boat off the edge and gave them a quick wave before heading back to the hut.

The boat bobbed to the side and followed the current from the river. Nicholaus made the way back to Andy's fish store.

"You're smiling." Janet's voice interrupted him.

"What?" he asked, confused, and only then realized that he was actually grinning broadly.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked curiously, tilting her head slightly. Her legs were stretched out and crossed.

"I love being on the water, if I hadn't become a guard, I'd probably be sailing around on a boat catching fish right now." the corner of his mouth shot up into a grin.

"Yeah I can totally see you as a fisherman." Janet nodded. "The dark expanse seems soothing to me. Like..." she fell silent.

"I feel the same way." He reached out his free hand and ran it along the horizon. "Just you and the sea."

They reached the shack at Andys Fish shop and he steered the boat inside. Janet climbed out and took the shopping bag with her. He tied the boat back to the dock and locked the shack again as they both went out. Nicholaus walked back around the building and stopped before the fish shop, watching over to Janet again. Her steps were unsure and sloppy. She sat down onto the bench near the door.

„I will take a Little break here.“ Her fingers glided through her blonde hair. Fatigue laid on her face.

„Okay, I will be right back.“  

Nicholaus turned around und stepped into the store. This time the store was empty, Andy was hoisting one crate onto another. He walked over to it and examined the decorations in the fish store, nets and various hooks hung from the ceiling and walls. An unnaturally large skull of a fish hung on the wall opposite the counter, its fierce gaze seeming to watch over everything that happens in the store.

"Back again?" asked Andy, his voice sounding soft, he patted Nicholaus on the shoulder. His weather-beaten short hair lay wildly on his head. "Naya is all excited about your girlfriend, I heard you talk outside, is she okay?“ he asked then crossing his big arms.

Nicholaus shook his head. "She's not my girlfriend." Then his face turned into an pained expression: „She is injured, and I really should not have taken her with me today.“ He sighed and stroked his hair back.

"No?" Andy hummed. "You guys looked good together." He had the same blue eyes as Naya, who was now eyeing Nicholaus with amusement. "She might want a drink." He walked over to the counter and reached behind it to pull out a glass and a bottle of water. "Give her something, I'm sure she'll feel better."

Nicholaus grabbed both, quickly went back out and filled up the glass. Kneeling down in front of her, he held the glass out to the young woman. "Please, drink. You might feel better." She took the glass with both hands and brought it to her lips, with a few quick gulps she emptied the glass and held it out to him again. "Thank you."

He refilled the glass and looked at her expectantly. "I've had enough, I think." she assured him.

“You sure?” He asked and she literally pushed the glass back into his hand, nodding. Shrugging, he downed the contents of the glass and stood up.

"We'll be on our way in a minute." he told her and went back inside the fish store. Andy leaned against the counter and watched him come in. "Thanks for letting me use the motorboat." Nicholaus said and placed the bottle and glass next to Andy on the counter.

"You're always welcome, son."

"Where's Naya?" asked Nicholaus, looking around the store, perhaps hiding from him as she sometimes did for fun.

"I sent her out with the other kids, I don't want to steal her whole childhood." He sighed and crossed his arms.

"Is everything going well here?" Nicholaus asked with a worried expression.

"Business is good, just..." he stopped for a moment. "I could swear the Outsider himself is trying to push my damn store into the Wrenhaven, that damn bastard." He laughed.

"Didn't you look around for another store?" asked Nicholaus.

"Yeah sure, I've got something lined up, it's just hard to leave the people here. I helped my father with the store when I was a little boy and he did so for his father. Many memories hang on these walls. I wish Miranda was still here." Pain flashed his eyes.

"You and Naya are strong, you'll be fine. Besides, doesn't Ella Arkin have her eye on you."

Andy had to grin before replying, "Ella's a lady of status, I can't do it to her working in a fish store."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, "Did you ask her what she thought about that? You never know where love will fall."

Andy shook his head in response.

"Give yourself a chance, you deserve to be happy again. She seems to be taking excellent care of Naya too, it's good when a girl has a mother."

Andy stroked his short beard, "Yeah, you're probably right. I am just an old man who is afraid of change." Then he waved one hand in front of himself, "Enough of that. Do you want fish? Freshly caught, good quality." Andy put his hands on his hips.

Nicholaus grinned, "Like you need to pitch me your fish." Nicholaus looked back to the open entrance, he had been looking forward to taking Janet to the Last Garden for dinner, but now felt it was a better idea to take her straight home after the doctor, so she could rest. "Okay, give me two." Then he pulled out his wallet and looked after Andy, who wrapping two fish in paper. "How much."

Andy raised his hand and shook his head," My gift to you, have a nice evening with your not-girlfriend." Then he winked at him. Nicholaus sighed and put the fish in the bag. "You're all really impossible. I show up with a girl and everyone thinks she's my girlfriend."

"Like you said, everyone deserves some happiness in life, hm?" With his arms folded across his chest, he looked after Nicholaus who went to the exit.

"Have a nice evening!" said Nicholaus over his shoulder.

"Aye, take care son." He heard behind him as they left the store.

Doctor Iradnus Dove's office was located on the border of Holger Square. This small area was subject to a constant power struggle between the Abbey of the Everyman and the City Watch. Regularly they argued, pushed back, then lost ground again. And in the midst of the chaos, Doctor Dove pursued his profession. Like a stoic mountain. And both sides used his services.

Nicholaus paused when he noticed that Janet had stopped and was leaning at a streetlight with one hand. Immediately he was at her side, "Are you okay?"

"I... I feel a little weak." she answered, holding her side.

He had noticed that she was getting paler by the hour. She squinted her eyes and breathed in and out. Her hand slipped from the streetlight and she would have stumbled forward. But Nicholaus grabbed her in time and she fell against his chest. "Everything is spinning." He heard her voice close to his ear.

"It's not far to the doctor's office." Nicholaus tried to reassure her and lifted her up on his arms.

"Close your eyes, it might help with the dizziness." With Janet in his arms, he marched straight to the doctor's office.

She had her face buried in his neck. "Sorry, I'm a lump today." Her breath tickled his skin.

"Don't worry about it, I should have insisted you stay in the apartment."

Two Overseers approached him on the street. Their conversation died away as he passed them and as he continued to walk, he kept feeling their gaze at his back. Janet's body tensed and she clawed at his jacket. Concerned, he looked down at her, her eyes were wide open, and she was staring at something behind him. The Overseer? Only when he reached the doctor's front door did she seem to relax a bit.

He walked up the stairs to the front door and knocked on it hard three times. After a while, a voice came from the other side, softly at first, then becoming louder. Until Doctor Iradnus opened the door. He was an elderly man, with graying, thinning hair that reached his shoulders. A long face with no beard. His hunched figure was covered by a light-colored smock.

The look he gave Nicholaus was confused at first, then his memory seemed to brighten.

"Oh it's you boy. Did you get yourself another injury?"

Nicholaus shook his head. "No, I am not here for myself, Doctor Dove. Do you remember the girl I found in Wrenhaven?" He nodded toward Janet.

"You found what in Wrenhaven?" Doctor Iradnus asked, narrowing his eyes. He turned his head with his ear more to Nicholaus. "You'll have to speak louder boy. I hear so badly."

"The girl with the wound on her side," Nicholaus said louder. Then, finally, he seemed to notice the young woman in his arms.

"Ah, the girl. Why didn't you say so?" the Doctor said, turned on his heel and beckoned Nicholaus to come in.

He followed him down the hall, into his office. Nicholaus knew the rooms like the back of his hand, with how often he’d been here. The work in the City Watch was dangerous. They went through the reception and past an empty waiting room into a larger treatment room. Everything was, as always, neatly sorted, and tidy, just as Doctor Dove liked it. The air smelled of cleaning chemicals. Their shoes clacked on the tile floor as they walked down the hall.

Along the wall were tables and shelves crowded with bottles of various sizes, and a bunch of medical books. In the center of the room was a treatment chair, which the doctor lowered with a few flicks of his hands.

He gestured to the chair with one hand, "Have her sit down, please." Then he went to a table and took out white gloves, which he put on at the same moment. Nicholaus gently placed Janet on the treatment chair and remained standing next to her. She watched him with a worried expression on her face. The elder man walked back over to her, pulling a stool with casters behind him as he did so, and sat on it.

"The wound was on the lateral abdomen." Now his senses were sharpened like a knife and he seemed to remember everything. Janet nodded. "Clear it once, then." She hauled off her jacket and pulled up her shirt underneath, gasping and wincing at the pain the movement caused.

The bandage was now exposed and she tried to fiddle with it but she could not find the beginning. Nicholaus gripped the edge of the chair, his teeth grinding against each other as he saw the bandage, it was soaked in blood. "Dammit." he whispered.

"Let me help you," the doctor suggested. She nodded again and he immediately started to remove the bandage. He tossed it into a nearby trash can, then bent down to look at the wound. Some threads were torn, blood was oozing out.

"Ahhh. We can fix that. A few stitches should do it." Doctor Iradnus spun around again and gathered a needle and thread, then cut some of the thread and threaded it as he spun around.

When Janet noticed the needle, she tensed and leaned up. "Is this really necessary?" Doctor Iradnus moved closer to her and she scooted backward on the chair away from him.

Her breathing became more panicky by the second. Nicholaus reached for her arm and forced her to look at him by his voice. "Hey." He said slow and calmly. "It's all good, it's just a few little stitches." She looked at him with wide eyes. He bent down to her, blocking her view on the doctor. "Grab my arm, okay? You can squeeze as hard as you want. I'll stay with you." Her gaze slid down to his arm, then she swallowed once and clasped it.

"Ready?" he asked, Janet nodded and closed her eyes. "Get started, Doc." he said, continuing to look at her. The casters of his chair squeaked as he rolled to the other side of Janet. She was already beginning to tighten her grip on his arm. Nicholaus's eyes darted to the doctor as he leaned down and performed the first stitch. She groaned as the pain reached her. The doctor set in for the second stitch.

"You're doing really good." Nicholaus whispered gently to her.

Her fingers dug into his jacket as the second sting went through her skin. She seemed to be holding her breath. Doctor Iradnus quickly made the third stitch. She exhaled and buried her face in Nicholaus shoulder. A fourth sting, then Doctor Iradnus hummed with satisfaction.

"Well done." whispered Nicholaus, smiling at her. She looked up at him and smiled weakly back. Nicholaus straightened up again.

"How did that wound open up?  I told you she should take it easy."  The old man asked, looking at him in wonder.

"We were out, I shouldn't have taken her with me." Nicholaus confessed, pulling the corner of his mouth to the side.

Doctor Dove approached him, with a bandage in his hand and gave him a pat on the back of the head. "I'm used to better from you boy. Would you please?"

"New painkillers would be good too." Nicholaus said as he took the bandage. Doctor Dove disappeared into another room. Nicholaus placed the shopping bag with her clothes next to the treatment chair and then sat down on the stool.

He tugged at the bandage and rolled it up a bit. "Can I?" he asked and cleared his throat.

Janet nodded and pulled her hands to her chin to make room for him. He placed the beginning of the bandage on her skin, on the opposite side of the wound, and pressed it firmly so it would not slip, then began rolling the rest of the bandage around her stomach and over the wound. "Not too tight?" he inquired, looking at her. His fingers hovered over her skin, he could feel the warmth of her body.

She looked up from his fingers to him and shook her head, some of her golden strands came loose and slipped forward. A few more rounds then the end of the bandage was reached. With one finger, he slid the loose end under the bandage. Janet drew in her breath and looked at him. The blue in her eyes attracted him magically. Like the wide blue ocean he loved so much. He would have liked to lift his hand and brush her strands back behind her ear.

Doctor Dove stomped in again and they both looked in his direction.

"One pill a day should do it." he stated and placed the pill bottle next to Janet on the chair. Janet pulled her shirt back down and put her jacket on. "You should come back to see me in two weeks so I can have another look at the wound and get the stitches out," he suggested, taking off his gloves again and crossing his hands behind his back.

Nicholaus helped her up from the chair and stowed the pills in the bag.

"Thank you doctor." she said. "Of course." he bowed slightly. "Let the young lady rest, boy." he added, and his stern gaze slid to Nicholaus.

“You think you can walk?” Nicholaus asked and went to her side.

With a few shaky steps she stood up. “It should work, I hope.” Both left the doctor's office and stopped on the sidewalk. Nicholaus scratched his stubble and looked over to Janet. She noticed his look and asked, "Yes?"

"Back to the apartment, then you can rest." She nodded and both started to walk.

The way back to the apartment was uneventful. They passed a few watch posts and then reached his apartment. As Alfie promised, laid his cloth bag beside his apartment door. He opened the door and let Janet pass. With his free hand he reached for the laundry bag, went in himself.

Janet settled down on the sofa with a heavy sigh, as he circled the hallway and went to the cabinet to put away his laundry. It smelled wonderfully fresh and clean. As he turned back around, Janet took off her jacket and rubbed her arms. "Can we turn on the stove? I'm feeling cold."

"Of course." This morning Nicholaus had forgotten to turn on the stove and now the apartment was filled with cold air, which slowly settled into his clothes and wanted to dig into his skin. He took the wrapped fish out of the shopping bag and put it next to the sofa.

He unpacked the fish and put it in the sink in the corner of the kitchen and then started to heat the oven. He walked back over to her and held his hand out toward her new jacket, which she had placed next to her. She picked it up and gave it to him, and together with his jacket, they both landed on the back of the chair next to the door. It did not take long and the air in the apartment began to warm up. He poured Janet another glass and held it out to her. She pulled out a pill from Doctor Dove's bottle and swallowed it with the water.

Nicholaus began to scale and gut the fish to have it ready to fry in the pan that was heating up on the stove. It sizzled as he added the butter and then slid the fish in. On top of it he sprinkled some spices that he had gotten from his mother and let the fish fry. On the sofa, Janet had brought her blanket and seemed to have been watching him, but now she was slowly drifting off to sleep. He was bothered by himself that he had no soft blankets here to snuggle into.

With quiet steps he walked up to her and patted her shoulder. "Hey Janet, wouldn't you rather sleep in the bed?" he asked in a whisper.

She startled awake and looked around in alarm. " Something happened?" she murmured.

"Everything's fine, do you want me to carry you over?" Before he could finish his sentence, she was already putting her arms around his neck and he picked her up along with the blanket. "Okay, let's bring you over then."

"Mhm." Her breath tickling across the back of his neck again. Her body felt warm against his and he would have liked to stay like that for a few more minutes, he caught himself closing his eyes and taking in her scent. The light scent of the shampoo still hung in her hair, mixed with the scent of old wood from the clothing store. But she was already dozing off again. He gently laid her on the bed and covered her up.

It took a while for the fish to cook and he decided to wrap up her portion so she could eat when she gets hungry. Quietly he ate his portion at the dining table, thinking of tomorrows shift. He half-turned in the chair and looked, for a long moment, over at the bed. And what the next few days and maybe weeks held for him, with Janet by his side.