Fatal-fame here with a new story.

I was playing a lot of dishonoured lately and this just sort of popped up.

Tell me what you think.

Fatal- fame does not own Tales of the Abyss or Dishonored. This is for entertainment only not for profit.

Tales of the Void

Prologue. an Interesting Character.

Stop.

Wait.

Run.

The teen grit his teeth behind the cloth wrapped around his face as his legs propelled him forward. Away from his last job location

Stop.

Wait.

Hide.

He threw himself behind a trash bin in the alley he was in, not caring how dirty he became.

Wait.

Look.

Run.

He watched the two knights move past and slowly made his way to the front of the alley after they went by. With his body against the wall he peered past the corner, his hooded green eyes watched the knights get farther away.

Run.

Look.

Keep running.

It was all drilled into his head now, his fight or flight instinct finely honed to avoid detection. His footsteps as light as he could make them while running.

Stop.

Hide.

Look.

He was once again hidden behind a trash bin, cursing under his breath as he noticed the knight at the end of the alley wasn't moving.

Sneak.

Disable.

Hide.

It was easy to get behind the knight, It wasn't easy to knock him out. The knight struggled as the teen wrapped his arm around the his throat. As he battled for air the teen managed to pull him into the alley way. Within a few seconds the knight went limp and was thrown into the garbage bin.

Run.

Stop.

Caught.

He slid to a stop as he nearly ran into another knight, he scolded himself for forgetting that most knights traveled in two's or more when patrolling the city.

Grab.

Draw.

Silence.

Before the knight could open his mouth, the teens hand was already on it. With practiced ease the teen drew his blade and stabbed it into the knights neck. With a quick pull he took the blade out of the knight's throat and dragged him into the alley.

Run.

Stop.

Climb.

He didn't have time for remorse. He had to leave. With that he ran into the alley across the street. A few quick turns lead him to a dead end. He quickly pulled himself up the wall, up a nearby pipe and onto the rooftops.

Run.

Jump.

Walk.

He jumped from roof to roof, not allowing himself to lose any speed. After he managed to find the area he wanted he jumped to a lower balcony, from there he jumped down to an awning and with one last jump he hit the ground.

He walked now, although he was still on guard. He made his way into a small cafe in some back roads. As he walked in he waved hello to the barista as he made his way onto the backroom.

After making sure the door was closed he pushed a hook on the wall inwards, causing that part of the wall to open. He made his way down the stairs and into a large pub.

"Ah there ya are." He heard a man from his left call out to him. He made his way over to the voice, making sure not to bump into anyone until he was in front of a table.

The old man sitting at the table looked up at the teen. His battle scarred visage gave him an aura of intimidation, even with the smile he had on, his greying hair did little to deter this. On both his sides were two men, stone faced with short brown hair. Weapons in plain sight strapped to them.

"Here's the payment, sir." The teen placed a bag of gald onto the table, his tone respectful as it always was in transactions such as these. The man waved a hand at that.

"Please, you're among friends." The man assured him. It was always the case with him, so young and paranoid. It honestly made the man sad.

The teen hesitated for a second before removing the cloth wrapped around the lower half of his face and pulled off his hood. His green eyes guarded as his red bangs fell in front of his face. His hair, nowhere near as long as it used to be, fell just past his neck. His bangs covered his eyes just enough for him to see through, yet it made it hard for others to see him.

His face, once a perfect copy of his original, now marred by a small scar under his left eye. A memento of his first few weeks here.

He now wore a dark blue nearly black jacket, a grey shirt, black pants and brown shoes. His cutlass gone, replaced by a single edged short sword.

The once noble Luke Fon Fabre truly had changed.

"I trust you had no trouble." The man asked as the men started counting the gald.

"There were a couple of knights were patrolling. I had to knock a few out and kill one." Luke was never proud of lives he had taken, but sometimes he had to do what he had to do.

"It happens." The man waved it off. He would never understand Luke's feelings about killing, but perhaps it was what made him so good at his job. It gave him a reason to always plan out his moves.

They would always be surprises, but Luke never killed for the pleasure of it.

"It's all here, sir." The guard to the man's left broke his musings. The money had been counted and they wanted instructions for what to do. Feeling generous, the man slide quite a lot of gald towards Luke.

"Fifteen thousand for this should be good, correct." The man wasn't asking, but he knew it would do him no good.

"I only need ten." Luke argued back, the redhead always undersold his work. The man respected that, since it showed he was trying not to get a big head.

"Luke." The man's tone was cold, the first hint he was becoming annoyed. "This is non negotiable. You did good work, you get good money."

"...Yes, sir." Luke nodded his agreement as he took the money, with a quick bow of his head he turned to walk away..

"Luke." The man caught his attention. "I understand that you doubt yourself, but I know you deserve the gald in your wallet."

"Thank you...Garrett." Luke walked back to the front of the bar and out the door.

With a small chuckle, Garrett leaned back on his chair. The kid always was good for cheapening his own existence.

One day Garrett would break him of that.

Luke made his way back up to the cafe and out the backdoor. When he was out in the cool night air, he pulled out a cigarette.

He knew smoking was a bad habit, but he really didn't care what he did to his body.

It also made him fit in that much better.

It was around three months ago that he found this place.

He had left Yulia City, with Mieu and Tear still there. He wanted some time to figure stuff out and gain a bit of control over his life. So he made his way to Daath.

Then his life went downhill.

Or uphill, depending on your point of view.

He ran into Garrett.

It was cold and he was on his last legs. Garrett stumbled upon him and brought him to the cafe.

After Luke got some food into himself, he explained he was trying to get away from his old life. That he had done something terrible and was trying to come to terms with it.

The older man nodded to this and took him down stairs, into the secret pub area.

Apparently he thought Luke was a criminal, which Luke figured was kinda accurate.

And thus Luke was introduced to the Royal Cheagle pub.

Luke was sure they didn't know what a cheagle looked like.

It was a place where thieves, assassins, any criminal that could be hired hung out. It was a place for amoral people to be without having to look over their shoulders. With underground shops and cave that lead to a secret port.

And thus his training and job came about.

Garrett offered him a simple job, one he would be paid a lot for, as long as he didn't get caught, while at the same time was willing to teach him how to avoid getting caught.

Luke was starving and couldn't afford a room, so he took what he got.

It was a few weeks after he started that Luke knew that this training wasn't just supposed to help him with his work.

The silent movement, the parkour, firearms and crossbows, how to knock people out and the best ways to silently kill people.

There wasn't really a career that needed that skill set.

Especially not a delivery boy.

That's all he was. A guy who got a package from point A to point B and brought back the payment.

The legality of said package was always up in the air though.

It could be drugs, a weapon, poisons, a get well card, even mail.

Don't ask, don't tell applied.

And so he had a place to live, a good job and some new skills.

But why wasn't he with the group?

Well, he wasn't sure where they were.

He had heard the Tartarus was docked at the port, but at the time he was in the middle of a job. When he went to confirm if it was true, he learned it had left the port. And he couldn't leave because of the war, which had restricted most ferries. The small port in the pub wouldn't let him use any of the ships unless it was for a small distance.

Which lead to another problem.

When he was on his sixth job, he was recognized.

As Asch the bloody.

It still counted, since they tried to apprehend him.

So he took to covering his face and hair every time he went out, even for just simple errands.

Luke finished his cigarette, dropping the butt and snuffing it with the heel of his shoe.

There was another reason he stayed in Daath besides the fact he couldn't leave.

His skill set was limited to the Albert-style sword fighting and a hyperresonance he couldn't control.

So he wanted to find something he could do that the others couldn't, so they'd have more incentive to keep him around.

After all, who wouldn't want someone who could sneak around like him on their side.

But he still wished there was something he could do to help.

He headed back in and up to his room, waving at the ladies who offered him a good time as he went past, and fell down on the bed after stripping.

He hoped he wouldn't dream of Akzeriuth.

Tales of the Void

Luke blinked his eyes into focus and got up from his bed.

'It's so cold.' The redheaded teen thought as he threw on his clothes. He made his way to the door and gave the handle a turn.

At least that's what was supposed to happen.

But he found that the doorknob didn't turn no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell?" Luke question as he started to look at the door. It seemed...off to him.

'It's glossy.' He realized. 'But that doesn't... ' He turned around and stopped mid thought.

His room was nothing special. A bed in the middle of the room with a small table next to it, a desk to the side of it and a wardrobe for all of his clothes and things.

A giant hole in the wall that lead to what he assumed was an endless space?

Not there before.

For reasons he would probably never comprehend, he walked out onto the platform that connected his room to the outside.

He jogged forward, not to fast so he wouldn't be taken by surprise.

Well, any more surprised than he was now.

He stayed in the middle of the rock platform he was on, refusing to go near the edges. All around him were floating islands. Some of the islands look familiar, while others were unknown to him.

He arrived at one he knew all too well.

It was a brown platform, golden guard rails with intricate designs, A white wall with a large brown design on it. On it were people familiar to him.

It was those he used to travel with.

When they finally had enough of him.

He looked at each of them, their frozen bodies glistening like they were made of marble.

He reached up and lightly touched to the one that looked like Guy. His fingers felt the cold material it was made out of, making him shiver slightly.

"It's been a long time since I've been here." He heard a voice behind him. "Then again this place was never interesting."

Luke turned towards the voice and saw a man checking out the hull of the Tartarus with his arms behind his back.

He was wearing a brown jacket, blue pants and brown boots. Simple metal rings on some of his fingers.

For some reason Luke truly couldn't focus on him, and his voice was monotone yet distorted.

He turned to Luke who gazed into the all black eyes he had. His face was fairly plain and his haircut rather normal.

"When I first came here, all paths I saw were predestined. No one tried to diverge." He walked towards Luke, arms still tucked behind his back. "Imagine my surprise when the futures I saw when I came back were all different."

"What?" Luke asked. The man disappeared, much to Luke's surprise.

"All the paths had a single divergence point." Luke turned to his left to see the man leaning his back against the rails. "A young boy who didn't die when he was supposed too."

"What the hell are you…?" Luke tried to ask as the man disappeared again. Luke saw a flurry of movement and turn to his right, where the man walked casually.

"You see, dear Luke." The man spoke again. "The world is changing and your role is pivotal."

The man slowly spun to face Luke, who gave up on questions for now.

"I have chosen you for this reason and drawn you here to the void." He gestured with one hand to the area around him. "I am the Outsider."

Luke brought up both his hands. "The hell do you mea…" He stopped to grit his teeth the back of his right hand started to burn with golden flame. It burned, yet it seemed to create cold on the inside of his flesh.

"I feel like…" Luke caught his breath as he flexed his fingers. "I'm being pulled in several directions at once."

"My mark." The outsider explained as he waved both his hands in front of him. "It will serve as a conduit for the forces your world would call magic. Forces in the the world and and beyond the world. "

"Magic?" Luke asked as he examined the mark tattooed into his hand, the black color contrasting against his skin. In the middle was a black dot. Around that was three fourths of a circle, at one end it ended in a arrow while the other created a line that pointed to the top and bottom of his hand. To the left was a small circle and strange curve with slash marks at the end. On the right was a slash with two more curved lines, a smaller one on the outside of the mark.

"I have given you this gift. The ability to use these forces to your will." He brought his attention to the Outsider as the man still spoke. "Come and find me."

With that he warped away.

Luke started to look around for a way to go, only seeing the path he had taken to get there. He was about to run down it, when another floating island caught his eyes.

He looked towards it as he made his way to the edge of the platform. As he stood on the edge he raised his right hand. The mark started to glow as he clenched his hand into a fist, hearing the hissing of air being sucked. He stared at the island as a line appeared from his body to the island.

He released his fist, quickly pointing at where he wanted to go. He suddenly felt like he was being pulled through a tube. As his feet hit the ground he heard the sound of air being pushed out.

Luke turned back to the island of the Tartarus platform, his his eyes opened wide in awe.

"I just…" Luke murmured to himself, as he looked down at the back of his right hand. "I just went…" He shook his head and made his way towards the other side. As he walked he noticed a statue that looked like a man commanding Oracle knights. He had brown hair and blue eyes, while wearing an Oracle Knight uniform that seemed more at home with high ranking members.

Luke stopped to stare at the statue of the man, committing him to his memory.

The teen didn't know why, but he felt he needed to.

It kept going like that. He would warp to an island, see some statues, memorize the unique ones and move on.

So far was a pair of female twins. One silver haired one blonde, both had grey eyes. In gowns that matched the others hair.

A noble looking man, greying hair and beard, with green eyes. Wearing a black suit.

The last group was one he knew quite well.

Surrounding a table was the God-Generals, the Commandant and Grand Maestro Mohs. They seemed to be looking over a map of the world, with some areas circled.

His hand twitched, even as statues he wanted to cause them pain.

"The trials you will face are great." The Outsider said as he walked out behind the largo statue. "And you do acts that even the greatest of men can't do." He vanished again. Luke started to look around and saw him reappear on the edge of the island.

"You will need to seek out the runes made out of bone that bear my mark." He gestured towards the edge of the void. "You will find them in the dark corners of the world and at the shrines created in my name."

Luke was about to ask for more information, but the Outsider disappeared again.

"To aid you I give you this." The Outsider said as he reappeared in front of Luke, his hand outstretched towards him. Black smoke appeared for a moment and in his appeared a heart.

"This is a heart once used by a living being." The Outsider explained. "It will tell you many secrets and guide you to the runes, no matter how hidden they are." The heart disappeared and reappeared in Luke's hand.

Luke brought it up to his face, studying the muscle.

It seemed to be a patchwork of the muscle with a lens. Inside the heart seemed to be gears and other moving parts.

"There is another rune here." The Outsider caught his attention. "Follow the heart and find it."

With that the Outsider warped away again.

Luke looked down at the heart in his hands, twisting it around to view it from all sides.

From what he could tell it was human. As he held it in morbid fascination, his hand tightened around it.

"This place exists and does not." The heart's voice was a woman's. Familiar to him, yet at the same time, not. "It is the inbetween."

Luke was not sure how to feel about the muscle in his hand. He was about to probe further when something caught his eye.

In the distance he could make out a red glow. With no hesitation he started to head towards it.

Jumping from platform to platform he made his way to the glow. Crossing over with his new powers.

As he landed on the last platform he cautiously made his way towards the altar in the middle. He picked up the rune from the wooden shrine, looking it over as he turned it in his hand.

It seemed to be made out of bone. With the mark of the Outsider on one side and leather straps on the other.

As he held it it began to glow and images flashed before his eyes.

The ability to see while blind.

A hole opening where he needed it too.

Wind blasting away things in front of him.

Him slipping through cracks as a torrent of water.

Distractions of fire being summoned at his command.

Bright flashes blinding his opponents.

And the ability to move without a step.

Luke knew there was more to see, but felt it would be better to wait until a later time.

He turned to see the Outsider appear next to him, hands behind his back as he walked around Luke.

"How you use these powers falls on you, as it has the others I have given the mark too." The older man explained as he turned to Luke. "I will return you to your world. Try to be interesting."

Tales of the Void.

Luke blinked himself awake, sitting up to rub his eyes as he did so.

'Ugh. Gotta eat before bed.' He thought as he brought his hand down. 'Less likely to dream about crazy things.'

He got up and went to grab his clothes, only to stop when he noticed the back of his hand.

The black mark was contrasted against his skin, yet it seemed so natural it was as if he was born with it.

'Okay, don't panic.' The redhead thought as his breathing became quicker as he put on his clothes. 'You just… had a bender, got a tattoo and had a dream about it. That's all.' The fact that he didn't drink popped up in his head, but was ruthlessly quashed.

A knock on the door removed him from his thoughts. Without thinking he gestured towards the door with his hand. Magic flowed as it pulled him to where he designated, much to his shock.

Another knock sounded through the room as the replica tried to get himself under control. With a final breath he opened the door to the concerned face of Garret.

"Are you all right?" The older man asked as he gave Luke a once over. Luke waved off his concern as he took one last deep breath.

"Just a nightmare." Luke replied with the same old line he always used. Everytime he killed they were worse than normal, so he should be able to get away with this.

"...I see." Garrett said slowly as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Are you sure…"

"No, it's fine." Luke interrupted the offer. He knew what the man wanted to give him, something he would never let himself have.

Garret wanted him to see a therapist.

A chance to help him let go of the nightmares.

Luke would never do something like that. Therapists were for people who experienced trauma, not cause it.

Besides, what was his loss of sleep compared to the ten thousand lives lost that day.

If anything, he was getting off easy.

"So, what's up?" Luke asked as he sat on his bed. "A new job?"

The older man shook his head negatively as he held up a wooden box that Luke hadn't noticed.

"You've been here three months." The greying man handed the box to the teen. "And you have done great work, so I figured a gift was in order."

Luke was about to protest, but he realized that arguing about gifts with this man was an exercise in futility.

Garret rewarded his subordinates that did good work, no exception. So even though he didn't deserve it, he would get something anyway.

Luke opened the box, pulling the lid off and putting it to the side. His eyes full of curiosity as he noticed objects inside.

One was a small crossbow that had been folded up. He wrapped his hand around the handle as he pulled it out delicately.

It was pure black metal that could easily fit in one hand. His thumb pushed a button on top, causing the limbs to fold out. He looked inside the box again and saw three types of bolts.

The first were five standard crossbow bolts. The other two types were three vials of blue liquid and three vials of green liquid.

"Incendiary and sleep darts." Garret explained as Luke pulled out the ammo belt and holster.

"Wow." The red head mumbled in awe as he placed them to the side. He knew fine weaponry when he saw it.

And this was beyond normal craftsmanship.

The other object seemed to be a sword hilt and just a sword hilt.

He pulled it out, holding the black metal hilt. At the top there was a ring on both sides, under the hand guard. He was about to ask about it when a small line caught his attention. Putting his thumb and pointer in the two rings he pulled the hilt open. As he tilted it to the side a blade started to slide out.

With a jerk he brought it up vertically, causing the blade to slide back in. With a sense of understanding he opened the hilt as he gave a quick flick with his hand.

A full length blade slid out, held in place by the closed hilt. It was roughly the size of his short sword, give or take, and seemed to be made out of a dense metal.

"Figured you would like a weapon that be easier to carry." Garret gestured to the sword. "Took a month to get it right."

"I don't…" Luke let the blade slide back into the hilt. "I don't know what to say."

"A simple "thank you" would be a good start." Garret chuckled as he got up. "Besides, if you wanna thank anyone, it should be smithy."

"I… Thank you." The red head gently laid the weapon down as he turned to the olderman, who was looking out the window. "But, why?"

"You do good work, you get good rewards." The greying man said as he looked outside. "As for my other reasons. Well, I'll tell you later."

"...Okay." Luke looked down at his lap and was about to say something else. When a commotion outside cut him off. Luke got up from his spot and moved to the window.

Outside was a group of knights shaking people down, not discriminating who they stole from.

It wasn't a regular occurrence, but it wasn't rare either. Luke had only seen it happen twice in the time he was here. But from what Garret told him, It was completely random when they came.

They could shake down people every week for a month or not be seen for three months. No rhyme or reason at all.

But this time there was a knight that stood out.

He was the first statue he saw that he didn't recognize.

He stood with his arms behind his back as people were forced to surrender their gald. He commanded the knights back after twenty minutes.

"Let this be a lesson." He spoke, his voice was deep and menacing. "With the war going on we will not tolerate any type of law breaking. Unless we happen to… reach an agreement."

"I'll be back next week." He told all. "We'll figure it out from there."

With that he called his men back and left. Luke frowned before turning to Garret.

"Who was that jerk?" Luke asked as the older man sighed.

"Jarrick Verender." Garret told him. "Lieutenant in the Order, utter bastard."

"If he's doing this, why is no one stopping him?" Luke figured Van or Mohs wouldn't care, but Ion wouldn't stand for it.

"Not enough people give a shit." Garret shrugged at the younger male. "Besides, he wasn't lying about most of the money going to the Order, so people just look the other way."

"Look, there's nothing anyone can do about it, we'll just have to do what we can and weather this storm." Garret walked up to and opened the door. "Also Sales missed you last night, she wants to talk about some deliveries."

"Okay. I'll be down in a minute." Luke turned back to the window as he brought up his left hand in thought.

'Nothing anyone can do?' He asked himself as he stared down at the street, watching people pick themselves off the ground.

If there was one thing Luke learned here. It was that he hated the feelings of uselessness.

He wanted to help these people, who were suffering because people in power were selfish bastards.

Was it hypocritical since when he was in a position of power it went straight to his head? Perhaps, but he had learned his lesson and now knew what was important.

But what was he going to do? Run at Jarrick guns blazing? He knew that would be suicide.

'Maybe…' Luke brought up his right hand, staring at the mark he hand been given. 'That's not the way to go about this.'

He could use magic, something he could barely wrap his head around, yet use it he could.

'So I won't rush in…' Luke thought as he clenched his hand in resolve. 'I'll sneak my way in, find him and...kill him if I have too.'

Luke knew there was no way to lie to himself about this one. This wasn't some bandits that he could convince himself was in self defence.

This would be murder, plain and simple.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but if it was the only way. Then he would do whatever it took.

Luke stood up and grabbed his new weapons, making sure to holster them on his new belt.

He'd do some asking around, snooping for info and practising with his new weapons.

The green eyed replica needed to know where the man lived, where he was at what times and what to expect from him.

If the man had connections to either Mohs or Van, then getting taken out of the picture would strike a blow to them that he wouldn't mind

Even if he didn't Luke was going to make sure that he would never hurt anyone ever again by the end of the week.

One way or another.

So that's the first chapter.

Read and review and tell me if I should continue.