" last night "

Chapter 4

Despite having scrubbed away the dried blood and dead skin, the shower didn't help much.
The stinging of the second degree burns was increased tenfold (which was expected, but certainly not welcomed), and even though Darion was as careful as possible, several of the cuts and slashes started bleeding again. The most lethal one, across his lower chest, remained clotted, however.
Thankfully, Windham was generous enough as to help him wrap fresh gauze around his wounds. (He saw Darion struggling to keep it in place as he trailed it behind his torso, and Windham didn't want him making a fool of himself.)
   As Darion was fumbling with the buttons of the shirt that he'd been provided, Windham spoke up. "Tell me a bit more about yourself, watchman. You've piqued my interest."
Darion looked at him over his shoulder. "Shouldn't I rest a bit?" he said sarcastically, knowing well that 'resting' was what he'd been doing the past three days, even if it wasn't on purpose.
"I saved your life, didn't I? At least let me get to know you." Windham pointed out.
"Something awful tells me that you're never gonna let me live that down."
"That something awful may be entirely correct. But don't worry, I won't be direct about it."
Darion tilted his head to the side. "You're quite peculiar, overseer. Not that that's a bad thing, mind you."
A hint of a smile was present on Windham's lips. "So, is that a yes?"
   "Sure, why not?" Darion responded with a sigh. "Where should I begin, parents, or my sisters?"
   "Whichever you consider yourself closer to," Windham said, helping Darion lie back down on the cot.
Immediately the officer returned, "Sisters it is then."
He launched into an explanation on how his youngest two sisters, one of whom is deceased, were twins. The surviving one is somewhere in her twenties now. Darion hasn't seen her in years, but he speculates she joined the Oracular Order.
How strange it is, because his other sister, age thirty, is a witch (and used to serve under Delilah Copperspoon).
Upon hearing this, Windham scowled a bit.
"What? It's not like I can control her choices. I'd recommend you not trying to find her, either. She would crush you like a bug, and even if you did manage to best her, you'd have to deal with her wife. She's also a witch, not to mention extremely protective."
In all honesty, Darion was surprised that Windham didn't make some sort of snide comment about two women being married, especially in this time period. Of course, he was joking about them being together; he just thought it would be sweet if the pair of renegades were together.
Nonetheless, Windham only raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? You know, I could have you arrested, for consorting with heretics... if I wanted to."
Darion narrowed his eyes. "You saved my life just to have me arrested for being related to a witch?"
"No. I don't actually want to turn you in, you've gone through more hell than most men have in several years. I'm not gonna do that to you," Windham responded quietly.
Darion was silent for a moment, and then responded, "Thank you," with a half smile.
   It was nice, really. Someone actually enjoyed Windham's company. Normally he'd keep to himself, knowing better than trying to open up to any of the other overseers. Along with absolutely despising any social interaction in the first place, he hailed from Serkonos, along with being half continental Pandyssian. They won't let him forget that.
Many of them talk behind his back of his loyalty to the Abbey, accuse him of having traces of black magic in his blood, simply because of his origins. He's learned to ignore it, but that doesn't mean he's deaf to the hushed rumors that some of the more biased overseers exchange.
The conversation continued, but Windham was a bit stuck on why Darion so willingly said his sister was a witch. Surely he didn't trust him, and Windham truthfully could have him arrested. But, like he said, he didn't want to do that.
Listening on to him, Windham came to learn that Darion and his sisters were the children of a nobleman and noblewoman; their mother co-owned a whaling company in Tyvia, which explained why his family is from there. His father inherited Darion's great-uncle's estate after he was taken by the plague.
   "Now, enough about me," he finished, "Tell me a bit about yourself."
Windham hesitated a moment. "There isn't much of importance to know about me, I'm afraid. I'm a simple man, I come from Serkonos, underwent the Trials as a child and was chosen to become an overseer. Everything beyond that isn't pleasant whatsoever, so I'll spare you the details," explained Windham, leaning back to stretch.
"As far as my family, well...I have an estranged brother, and I haven't seen him since I was...sixteen, I think? It's been so long. I barely remember him, but I do miss him. I hope he's alive, but... I can't hope the same about my parents." He sighed.
"Overseers forced me to watch as they tortured and killed them for worship of the Outsider. Keep in mind, we lived in a small town, in a liberal country, so it was quite a shock. I, uh...Nevermind. After a few years, I was sent to Dunwall as a reward for 'exemplary devotion to the Abbey' and because so many had been taken by the plague, but trust me, I didn't want to become an overseer." He looked over at Darion with a blank expression.
Darion was a bit shocked, to say the least. "Holy shit, that's awful, what the fuck. I'm so sorry to hear that, man. What happened to your brother? Was he put in an orphanage or something?"
Windham shook his head. "No. He wasn't there when our parents were murdered, so when he came back, I told him that our parents had taken a trip away to visit distant relatives and were handing me over to become an overseer. Pathetic lie, I know, but I couldn't think of anything else. I said that if he didn't run, they'd do the same to him when he came of age. We'd been fed stories of the atrocities that overseers-in-training had gone through, and it scared him enough to make him run. He probably still thinks our parents are alive, the poor idiot. That is, if he's alive," Windham elaborated.
"Damn, your life's really been quite a punch in the gut, hasn't it?" commented Darion, absentmindedly scratching his arm.
"Yeah..." The overseer yawned. "I should head back to the bunk house before it gets too late. You should get some sleep, too. Oh, and I think someone's coming to bring you something to eat, so don't worry, you won't die of starvation. However, I recommend drinking something, you may die of dehydration," he joked.
"Uh huh, alright. 'Night, and thanks. For talking with me, and, uh...keeping me alive." Darion smiled over at Windham.
Surprisingly, the overseer returned the smile, albeit barely. "Don't sweat it. I'm glad you're alive. You're probably the friendliest person I've conversed with in months, so the pleasure's all mine. I'll see if I can come by tomorrow, but until then, goodnight."
With that, he walked out of the infirmary, leaving Darion to his own devices.