He wasn't always Samuel Beechworth.

Once upon a time, he could recall another world, another name, another life that was his own.

He could recall a dark cupboard, a lonely abused child with hair the color of a starless sky and eyes made of emeralds.

His name had been 'Freak', or at least that's what they called him.

He could recall running from the pig in a wig that was his cousin who's name to this day still manages to allude him.

He fled to the forest.

Its there, desperately lost with only the night sky just visible about the treetops that he first meets the boy, no older then himself, named Erland.

Erland, by all rights looks normal, with pale skin, short brown hair and pitch black eyes. Dressed in a brown old fashioned coat, blue pants and black boots but there's something about him...

Something not quite right, even in Freak's own measures.

Despite that, Freak decides he likes Erland. Strange as he may be the other is the first person to ever so any interest in Freak, to show even a shred of human kindness in the form of rather dull yet warm gray scarf.

He falls asleep that night, leaning against Erland's shoulder as the other talk of another time, another world that couldn't possibly be real.

Freak wakes in his cupboard and if not for the dull scarf still tied securely around his neck, he would believe it all to be but a dream.

For months whenever he's thrown out into the cold in the dark cover of the night, or chased into the forest by his pig of a cousin; Freak returns to the forest and that one spot where Erland is always waiting for him.

Until one day, Erland offers him to take him to his world- a new life, a new chance- in turn all he would have to do is bare his mark.

Freak trusts Erland and doesn't not hesitate to accept.

Hand in Hand, he follows Erland into the strange mass of black and purple energy.

His name is Samuel Beechworth.

His parents' names was Charles and Vivian Beechworth.

His mother, bless her soul, died in childbirth. They call him a 'miracle' as many doctor's claimed he would be stillborn. His Father, a Noble Lord, is too overjoyed to care all that much about the strange birthmark on the inside of his son's wrist.

He grows up well loved and cared for. When he's six his father buys him fingerless gloves to hid his birthmark and sends him with the other children for an Aptitude Test. His father wants him to be an Overseer and though he passes the test they both know it can never happen.

When he's fourteen, he meets Amaranth Knight.

She was beautiful, kind, gentle and everything he could ever want. Her hair reminds him of fire and her as blue as the midday sky. Her's skin is unnaturally pale though, a sign of her growing illness that had haunted her all though-out her life.

Despite knowing the odds and his Father's warning of setting himself up for heartbreak, Samuel proposes to Amaranth on his sixteenth birthday.

The next two years are utter bliss, like a fairytale drawn to life but all dreams must come to an end and Samuel's crashes down only two years later with the death of his beloved wife.

Only days after the funeral, Samuel signs up as a Marine and sets out for sea in hopes of forgetting.

Its there, in the vast ocean, that he meets Erland once more.

Only he's not Erland, He's The Outsider. A Myth that was more of a warning then a Myth. And wither Samuel admits it aloud or not, he owns him. The birthmark on the inside of his wrist is the solid evidence that Erland, The Outsider-who or whatever he was- would always own him.

He almost completely forgets about Amaranth a bit quicker then is natural, almost as if someone has sealed away all his memories of her but a name and a gentle laughter that makes him smile every time it echoes in his mind.

He has no doubt Erland is behind it and the other doesn't even have the decency to deny it.

Bastard.

The years pass all too quickly in his opinion and before he knows it his hair is no longer the color of the night sky but rather the color of freshly fallen snow. His emerald eyes are still bright but now hold a sharp edge of wisdom that only comes with age.

He's surprised he's lived this long to be honest though it was likely thanks to Erland's mark and his own unnatural abilities that he even managed that- if not Erland himself outright intervening.

He's forty-seven when he retires from both the marines and the ocean to return home. He doesn't stay long.

His father is dead. It shouldn't surprise him as much as it does but none the less it gives Samuel one more reason to avoid the Manor as a whole.

He builds a small boat which he names the Amaranth, after the wife he can barely recall, and sets out for the rivers leaving his pacifist of a God Brother in charge- Poor Lad fainted the first time Samuel told him of this.

For thirteen years, Samuel manages to live a peaceful life. Always just getting by with enough spare coin to buy a round or two at a pub every two weeks. All in all, he's a retired marine and simple boatman trying to live a simple life.

Or at least, he was.

Then he met Corvo Attano and nothing was ever 'simple' again.

The first time he Corvo Attano exiting the sewers, he's half tempted to turn around and completely forget this madness but he stays. He's speaks his part and then boats the other back to the Hounds Pit Pub.

The next time he sees Corvo, Samuel can't help but notice the dark mark now resting on the back of his hand. Nor can he help pitying the man supporting Erland's mark. He doubted the Former Royal Protector knew exactly what he had traded for such a mark and its abilities.

Over time, the pity slowly shifts itself into respect.

Despite the Chaos and treachery around them, Corvo stays true to himself- somehow managing to complete every mission without shedding a drop of blood and all the while worming his way closer and closer to the boatman.

Had he been younger, Samuel probably wouldn't have hesitated in showing his interest but as it was the elder was content to just be a good friend.

Emily is everything he could have expected and everything he could have possibly desired within a child of his own: Curious, open minded, dedicate, patient, and outright friendly. He doesn't mind telling her old stories of youth and wonder, nor does he mind when she and Corvo make theirselves comfortable around him to watch him work on his wood crafting.

He creates a small boat, baptizing it in a drop of whiskey before handing it to the young empress.

He can't help but smile as he watches her rush off to show anyone and everyone with glee visible in her eyes.

He pretends not to notice Corvo watching him.

The Lord High Regent is screwed.

Laughter bubbles in the back of Samuel's throat as he listens to the incriminating audiograph that is playing over the city's propaganda system as a smile falls into place.

Within an hour, Corvo has returned with a smug smile playing under his mask and the Former Lord High Regent has been arrested and charged with High Treason.

It should have been a night for celebrations. Should being the key word.

He had long since predicted the oncoming betrayal of Havelock, Pendleton, and Martin but he never thought he would be dragged into it.

Still Samuel wasn't born yesterday, despite their careful watch and the muzzle of a gun pressed into his lower back, Samuel manages to only slip half the poison into Corves' glass as the other half further stains the already stained floors. Corvo was strong, he would survive.

And if he didn't...

Emerald eyes flickered towards his gloved hands and the burning sensation coming from his wrist that somehow radiated fury.

Well, something told him one way or another these so called 'Loyalist' wouldn't be an issue for too long.

"All I can say is it's been a pleasure serving with you. Maybe after all this is settled, we'll see each other again. Good luck Corvo, if anyone deserves it, you do. Give my best to Emily. After she's on the throne, she wont have time for an old man like me. I knew you were sharp, Corvo, but somehow you managed to get through all this mess without losing sight of what really matters. For that, I respect you. The city is going to pull itself up, I believe. Too many people here to let it all turn to ashes. I'd best be going. The battlefield is no place for an old sailor like me. That time has long passes. Good luck, my friend."

When he thinks about it, that was probably the most words he had ever spoken at one time to Corvo. So maybe that was why the other was just standing on there, frozen on his boat, as though his mind had run off without him...

'Opps', a part of Samuel whispered at the thought of accidently breaking the man he had grown to see as a close friend and ally. But now wasn't the time to break; Emily needed Corvo.

Mentally sighing, the boatman stood about to physically remove the other from his boat when he fount his mind shutting down in surprise by the pair of warm lips crashed on his own.

After a moment, Corvo pulled away, flashing a brief smirk before pulling that mask back into place.

"For luck."

And then he was gone; Blinked no doubt. Leaving a frozen Samuel just standing in his boat staring at the empty space the man had once been.

Great, now he was broken.

It was a cheap copy of the Sunday paper that told Samuel of Corvo's success; Emily was the Empress and according to the reporter when asked how he did it; Corvo had smirked and responded with 'Just a bit of luck'.

The boatman easily caught the unspoken meaning and so had Erland, who busted into laughter while leaning over the boatman's shoulder.

For once, Samuel couldn't find himself to care about caution and ill omens as he pushed the laughing deity off his back and back into the ocean from whence he came.

'Luck indeed.'

If he didn't know better, he'd swear Corvo was publicly teasing him for the whole world to see.

"I knew he was an interesting one."

Erland spoke as he pulled himself back into the Amaranth.

"Of course you did," Samuel agreed. Erland always fount the interesting ones. Though Samuel still didn't know what it was about him that had interested the deity that fateful day in another life, in another world.

His name is Samuel Beechworth.

He's sixty-eight years old.

Retired Marine, ex-boatman, and now Royal boatman for the Empress and her Royal Gaurd- he still gives the two dirty looks when he recalls how Corvo had showed up two years ago with a Royal Decree informing him he was either to be the Royal Boatman and live at the Palace or be tried for High Treason in the form of Insubordination.

He owns thirty Amaranths, sixteen Emilys, six Erlands and even three Corvos.

He's lived a long life but he fears his time is near.

One day he convinces Corvo to help him take the original Amaranth out to sea once more. A week later the Amaranth drifts back into the palace docks without either of her passengers.

In the darkness of the void, The Outsider howls in rage as his two favorites are torn out of his world by an ancient magic.