“You'd think these people would have a pot, or a bowl, or something!” Faron exclaimed as he looked at his baby lying down on top of the worn old table a few feet away from him, tucked inside of Faron's helmet with a harsh rag as the only lining. Shaking his head with a scowl, Faron gave the sad little cottage another look over. The foal had just begun to stand, and it's dark eyes were staring intensely at the baby just out of its reach.
Within a few minutes Faron was back to pick up the baby, who had started crying. “It's no use. If we dawdle on any longer we all could succumb to frostbite...or worse. We'd better make a move on if we want to make it home soon,” Faron sighed as he adjusted his grip on the helmet and braced himself as he opened the doorway.
From what little light the moon offered, the snow seemed to be untouched aside from where Faron trudged through. Before he could decide the best direction to take, the foal had darted out from behind Faron and ran straight into a large pile of fluffy snow. Swiftly emerging with a full body shake a moment later, the foal rejoined Faron's side with a considerably cleaner coat that glistened in the moonlight “Well, I guess that’s one less thing to clean off,” Faron mumbled, his attention focused on finding another pile of snow to clean the baby with.
“I hate the cold, so believe me when I say this is the lesser of two evils,” he muttered as he took his son out of the helmet and set him down as lightly as he could on top of the snow, bracing himself for the worst. Instead of crying harder or screaming, the baby smiled and seemed to be at peace. He giggled as he patted his hands against the powdery snow, his eyes shining with pure joy as he looked up at his father; who’s shocked expression only made the newborn more delighted. With unsure hands, Faron rubbed a handful of snow onto his son, anxiously praying for his baby’s delicate life. As the afterbirth stained the nearby snow, Faron finally lifted up his baby and held him close as he went to return his son to his makeshift crib.
Finally turning his attention back to the foal, Faron frowned with a huff. With some care, he took off his cape and rolled it up into a pseudo rope, and quickly tied an end around the foal’s neck, though not without difficulty. It immediately sat down in front of the snow pile where the baby was resting, flaring it’s nostrils at the knight, as if to say “I refuse to be lead by rope!”, giving Faron a fitting look all the while. “Look, I care about the baby too, alright? I want to help the both of you, and I can’t do that without your cooperation!” Faron exclaimed, and was shocked to see the foal was back on it’s feet. “We can’t be very far now. Burgestede is too large to be missed, even during the night.” Faron said with determination, picking his helmet back up and holding it firmly against his chest plate.
With the other end of the rope wrapped around his wrist, Faron set off westward. He was exhausted, but knew he needed to get both newborns to safety before giving himself time to rest. The night was still, with the only sounds being the crunching of snow underneath their feet as they waded through. Faron felt oddly at peace as he walked, enjoying the quiet change of pace from his usual chaotic days; and stayed in this state as the stars above twinkled softly as if they were a part of a cosmic ballet up in the night sky.
Faron stayed in the dreamy space allotted to him, paying no mind at his screaming muscles that were pleading him to stop. It was far more preferable to his usual anxieties, though Faron was beginning to lose the battle with keeping his eyelids open. That was, until Faron hit something with his boot that was far harder than the snow he’d been wading through before. Alarmed, both knight and foal looked down in swift unison to see an antler sticking out of the white blanket of snow. “Hm. Odd, are we still on the main road?” Faron muttered as he got on his knees, carefully setting the helmet down to the side as he took to scooping some of the snow away to unearth the creature.
He soon found a wholly in-tact head of a buck, to which the foal took one sniff at before recoiling in panic, dangerously jerking Faron’s neck backwards. “Gods!” Faron cried without thinking, only fueling the panicked foal, who was rearing with a horrible cry. Time slowed to a crawl as the foal began to bolt toward the baby crying in the helmet a few feet away. Faron lept toward the foal with a wordless cry. His arms outstretched as he crashed on top of the horse, sending them both rolling as they kicked dirty snow skyward, before skidding to a stop just before the baby’s feet.
As the snow came crashing back down, Faron’s attention was drawn away from keeping the foal calm, as the latter wiggled its way out of the knight’s embrace and cautiously trotted over to the mess before the knight had the chance to get back on his feet. With a groan, Faron walked over to retrieve the foal, though was distracted by a disgusting cracking, squelching sound before he could take another step. Horrified, he looked down at his feet to see that he’d stepped on a bird, which would’ve been bad enough had he not realized that the ground around them was littered with an entire flock, as if they abruptly fell right out of the sky mid flight. Though it was dark out, Faron was able to discern that the birds were in the same condition as the buck he encountered earlier.
They looked as they did in life, perfectly intact despite being fresh, precious meat in the dead of winter. Even in snowstorms like these, fresh game never went unclaimed. Not a soul had touched these animals, and this chilled Faron to the bone. “Oh Gods,” he stammered out, nearly jumping from the sound of his voice. “Something is very wrong,” he said while choking on every word that left his lips as his eyes met the horizon.
Just up ahead was where the city had stood for countless centuries. Faron was sure of it, absolutely positive this was where Burgestede was located — He’d lived there his whole life, after all! Yet before him was nothing more than ruins and sparsely remaining foundations of once grand buildings, a thin shadow of its former self. Where there was once a bustling hub of life now offered no comforts of home as Faron trembled with the first rays of dawn.
Faron fell to his knees with a deafening scream that would’ve sent any wildlife scrambling away, had there been any still alive in the area, that is. He saw rubble and ash where familiar buildings once stood. Dust and fractured bones littered the ground, making a horrible crunching sound as Faron took slow, dazed steps as he held his helmet with a death grip, deaf to his baby’s cries. “This can’t be happening!” Faron kept muttering to himself as his numbed body and mind walked what used to be bustling streets. If there were any bodies to be found, they were so fragmented and blown to bits that they were all well past being identifiable.
Even Faron’s memories of the city itself were fractured and distorted now, not unlike an apparition fading away in the snow. Despite knowing where everything was by heart, the knight found himself disoriented as the weight of his reality came crashing down upon him.
There was no kingdom to protect now.
Only the baby crying in his arms.
Oh Gods, there was no kingdom to protect now! His whole purpose in this miserable life had been cruelly snatched away from him. Not to mention that he never had a family — how was he supposed to raise a child on his own? There were no surrogates around to offer their milk, not a soul to turn to to ask for advice either. No roof to stand above their heads, nothing but one devastated, broken husk of a man and the baby that wouldn’t survive but a few days if they were lucky.
“Enough of that,” Faron thought as he shook his head as if he were trying to physically shake the unpleasant thoughts from his head. He was a father now, and it was his duty as a parent to provide for his child. Moping, as much as he wanted to, was no way to care for a baby. Taking a deep breath, quivering from the cold and the ache of his legs, Faron became aware of just how much distance he’d traveled. He was still in Burgestede, but found himself standing about where the slums used to be. In fact, Faron had found himself right in front of where Corvo’s vile tower was located.
Was…and still is standing right in front of the knight.
Faron blinked in confusion for a moment, slowly turning his head from side to side to take it all in. The tower was fully intact, and the buildings around it seemed to be partially standing as well, almost as if the place was protected by some sort of magic bubble when the rest of the city was destroyed. “Magic… what nonsense!” he thought as he shook his head again. Even with his…limited education, Faron knew that magic was just a fairy tale at best. No one seriously believed in its existence, save for the young and gullible who watched magicians pull their trickery with wonder in their eyes.
Finally, an emotion came busting through Faron’s numb mind -- seething, white hot anger.
“CORVO!” Faron roared as he ran up to the tower’s door and kicked it in with one fell swoop. “YOU BASTARD!! I SWEAR TO THE GODS — I’LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS IN SPADES!!” he snarled as he came barreling into the decrepit tower. Dust and debris flied through the wreck of a sitting area as the door slammed to the floor with a loud THUD.
But no sounds came from the inside of the lair save for the baby’s cries and the knight’s angry stomps and shouts. "Godsdamn it! Where ARE you hiding?!" Faron growled into the stagnant, dark depths of the tower as he rifled through all of the decrepit piles of rot. Not even a single pest was found despite how unsanitary the conditions of the lair was kept, another unpleasant detail that didn't escape the notice of the vigilant knight.
"I don't understand, if the tower is still standing he's surely got something to do with Burgestede's destruction! But where IS he?!" He thought with a huff as he slammed a cabinet door so hard the rusty hinges snapped, causing the door to fall to the dusty floor in loud clatter.
The baby's cries grew louder, and the foal shuffled uncomfortably as it shot Faron a distrusting look. Sighing, Faron’s shoulders began to shake. “This is no time to lose my composure,” he muttered as more tears began to fall despite his best efforts to hold them back. Everyone he’d cared for was gone with nothing left of them to save as a memento. The King, who’d been nothing but kind and generous towards him, dead. The High Priestess, Dua, who he considered a dear friend and wise beacon of advice, obliterated. Oliver, his squire who saw a better man in the knight than Faron did himself, now nothing more than dust in the chill winter wind.
Faron wanted nothing more than to join them in whatever state they were in. These people who he’d known most of his life, the people he loved most of all… what was a newborn compared to all of these lives? Faron gave into uncontrollable sobbing as he stared blankly at the crying baby for what felt like an eternity before getting a hard poke in his inner knee. Wait… Inner knee?! Faron’s attention snapped back to the present, to where the horse had it’s head buried into his clothes. “…But why do I feel a sharp stabbing sensation?!” he asked, absolutely bewildered as he gently moved away from the foal, only to jump back in alarm as he finally noticed the glistening horn upon it’s head, tip now soaked in blood.
“A unicorn?!” he cried, blinking in disbelief. “But those were just fairy tales? How can I be seeing one here in the flesh?” he stammered out, backing away slowly before hoarsely laughing. “Oh, I understand now! Ahaha, that damned alchemist drugged me with some sort of hallucinogenic mushroom or something! Everyone is fine, more or less! This is all some kind of bad dream, I just have to wake myself up somehow!” he said with wide eyes, so sure that his idea was true he didn’t even bother trying to say a prayer before giving himself a very hard whack on the head.
…Only to find himself seeing double the amount of unicorns and destruction as he did before.
Falling to his knees before collapsing on his stomach, he screamed as the filthy floor muffled his cries until no sound was able to leave his lips. “No. No. NO! This can’t be true! I don’t- I can’t— I WON’T ACCEPT THIS!” he roared after a long while of silence, punching the floor over and over until he’d worn himself out. Only when the unicorn head-butted him again did the knight finally move again.
“…Oh,” he said hoarsely and distantly. “I suppose that bastard won’t apprehend himself. I- no, We need to get moving,” he said as he finally heard his baby’s cries again. Without a word, Faron picked up the helmet with baby in tow and tried to gently rock it as he motioned for the unicorn to follow him away from the disgusting tower and horrible wreck of rubble and back into the untouched snow.
