Chapter 2: Come Sail Away
The little port town was nothing to write home about, you know, if home weren't currently a toxic, blight infested cesspool. The town was welcoming enough, a few merchants had set up shop and hiked their prices to take advantage of desperate people who had no choice but to run and pray for the best. Maybe the Maker truly had turned his back on us; something I had never really had an opinion on one way or the other. But, when you see a dirt crusted teenage girl that is already rail thin offering to do so many unmentionable things to a 40+ year old, unscrupulous merchant for a loaf of molding bread and a sprig of elfroot to feed and care for her family, religion tends to bitch slap you across the face and force you to consider it. Of course, seeing such an injustice unfold before my eyes .. I did -not- just stand around and watch it happen. Now, something people don't seem to realize about Mages, especially us Apostates; magic is -not- the only way a Mage can fight. In fact, my Mother currently had a hold of my staff, which looked more like a long scythe, so that no one would question me lugging it around. When I saw the Merchant begin to drag the teen away by her arm, I sort of lost it. I followed them into the alley between warehouse buildings and I pulled a small, curved Ferelden knife I carried beneath my clothes, and I attacked the bastard. I killed him. Not with magic, but with rage. And there was no Demon involved. Just me, enraged and hurt at the sight of such injustice. I killed the man, then I gently took the girl by her hand, and I walked her back to his cart. With no real authority around to patrol the area, I gave her more than enough to feed and care for her family, and find a way toward a better life. I took the Merchant's wares and I distributed them amongst those gathered in the immediate area, keeping only what my family and Aveline would need to try and get a boat to Kirkwall.
It was not the most honest of moves, but it saved many lives and I stick by the decision. Again, this is an example in hopes that you will understand what happened; sometimes, the desire to help, and the need to right a wrong can blind us to bad decisions. Is it an excuse? No. It's a statement of fact. A reality of human/elf/dwarf nature.
Of course, my running off to save the day earned me further words of hateful criticism from my Brother. When Mother was occupied with Aveline, the knight struggling to get her to eat and drink something, Carver stood at my heel. He called me an idiot, blamed me for Bethany's death, said I -belonged- in the Circle. I was about one insult away from shattering his jaw, brother or not, when Aveline stepped in. She slugged her fist right across his jaw and told him that if he did not shut up, and that if his Mother overheard the childish slings and barbs he was throwing at me, she would turn him over her knee and give him what for. Honestly, by the shadowed look in his dull eyes, I'm not sure if he thought it would be embarrassing .. painful .. or fun.
Too much information? Yeah, imagine how -I- felt. However, it seemed to have the desired affect. He shoved a spoon full of gruel into his mouth and shut up long enough for me to try and think of a plan.
"Rivvin, love. I think .. I think they are about to start selling passage on the next ship. I overheard an older gentleman telling a man to start warning small groups of people. We should hurry!"
The first time my Mother mustered up the courage to speak since cradling Bethany's lifeless form close, and her words are a broken, trembled mess. If my heart were not already breaking, that would have begun it. But I did not have the time, the luxury to mourn.
"It will be alright, Mother. Carver, stay with Mother, meet us over there."
I issued the words with a veiled threat, and when Aveline turned her vivid green eyes upon my brother, he shoved the spoon a little deeper into his mouth to illustrate the fact that he would not be sassing us. Of course, it also meant that he hadn't agreed .. but I had a feeling that he would do as he was told ... for once. Aveline and I turned quickly, shuffling lightly across the ground toward the direction Mother had pointed us in. After all, we did not want to alert anyone else with sudden movements and cause a stampede of desperation and fear that would surely result in a massive loss of life.
It was not surprising when Mother's directions brought the two of us to a small half barricade of boxes and barrels, where a group of about four men were standing around, talking. When I heard one of them say the word tokens, I knew we were in the right place.
"... I will -not- charge a sovereign for a service that is usually offered for 10 pieces a person. I don't know about you lot, but I plan to reach the Maker's side one day!"
The voice was surprisingly soft, and yet, somehow authoritative. A young man, couldn't have been more than a year or so older than me, waltzed out from the group of men, who looked less than pleased with the amount of backbone it had taken to stand up to them. Even as the young man began to address me, I saw the first flash of steel, and that is all it took. Aveline and I whirled into action, limbs twisting and spinning as we cut down the group of thugs behind the man's back. Once more, I felt myself bathed in blood .. felt the fresh mingling with the old, and even had a moment to wonder why it was not an earth-shattering feeling as it should have been. I simply wiped my small blade and returned it to it's hiding spot before turning to face the young man who looked on in disbelief, fear, and gratitude.
"I should've know better than to turn my back on men like that. I'm Padraig Lucais, Captain of the Maoil Duin. I can offer you passage on my ship. It's the least I can do for saving my life."
I inhaled softly, and glanced at Aveline for a moment.
"We were glad to help. People have enough problems at the moment without cutthroats making it worse. But, well, we have two more with us; my Mother and Brother."
Padraig nodded thoughtfully and reached into his pocket producing four small round tokens made of a simple metal.
"Take these. All I can offer is space in the cargo hold, but you present these and you four are guaranteed. Excuse me."
And you might say that little port town was the beginning of my need to help people ... or, you might agree with my jackass of a Brother who insists that I have spent the majority of my teenage years helping every bleeding heart that could later turn on us and give me and Bethany over to the Templars. For a guy who doesn't have an -ounce- of magic in him, he spent a lot of time worrying that he'd end in the Circle as well. Hmm .. maybe it's a twin thing .. maybe he was channeling some fear from Bethany. Or, maybe, he's just a twit that had a way of projecting everyone's problems onto himself, making them his own.
I took one of the tokens, handing the other three over to Aveline with a weary smile that barely showed through the blood caked on my face. For one moment, I wondered if I might look like one of the Demons mages are always warned about. If nothing else, I had to look gross and intimidating. Not sure if that was a good thing, and before I could try and find some solution to my state, I realized that the Captain had made it to his ship, and the crew were beginning to call people forward. We rushed to my family, Carver grabbing Mother by the arm to help maneuver her around people that were moving too slow. We managed to make it third in line, and I shouldered my way through a group of thugs to help Mother get a somewhat comfortable spot by one of the struts holding the cargo doors up. When one of the idiots turned to me, violence on his mind, one look at my cold expression and the messy blood, he turned around quickly and kept close to his mates. Guess I was a sight worse than I thought I was.
Finally, with Mother laying down, using Carver's leg as a pillow, and Aveline standing guard a few feet away, I managed a little bit of time to myself .. just long enough to take one of the waterskins I had 'acquired' from the dead merchant into a corner. There, I proceeded to take a bath, after a fashion. I removed my over robe and laid it out on the floor beside me. Aveline was lucky enough to have her Husband's shield, it kept her from becoming the bloody mess I was. As I started to empty the waterskin over my head, I could smell the copper, taste it, even, and I broke. Tears mixed with .. mixed with blood .. mixed with .. the remains .. of my baby sister .. and it was too much. For the first time since the death of my Father, I cried like the child I still sometimes feared I was. The head of my family, an Apostate on the run, now homeless .. and I was weeping like a child. I know that the others could hear me, the cargo hold was surprisingly quiet, shock and trauma sealing the lips of the Ferelden refugees that were no better off than me and my family. So, I was a little surprised when I heard no disgusted insult from Carver, no soft, sobbing worries from my Mother. Though .. I could -feel- Aveline's penetrating gaze on me, and it was far more sobering than any recognition from my Family could be. With a choked sob, I managed to pull myself together and finish cleaning up. I stretched my robes out in the sun, letting the heat dry the water from it.
"Do you think this will be the end of Ferelden, Rivvin?"
The soft, almost timid question from my Brother was enough to have me questioning my sanity. Carver never asked such weighty questions, at least, never of me. I glanced across to where he was sitting, watched as Mother managed to slip into any uneasy sleep despite the heat of the hold.
"Not at all, Carver. The blight will be stopped, and Ferelden will remain to annoy the rest of Thedas for many years to come."
He seemed somehow relieved by the confidence in my voice, and I could only wish I was as easily convinced. Silently, I leaned back against the strut where Aveline rests, watching the sails fluttering in the weak breeze, wondering if Kirkwall would be any better.