CHAPTER 2: A STEP FORWARD
Here we go. Chapter 2... I won't say much since I'm writing almost immediately after the first chapter. For anyone who follows or favourites my story, I would like to say thank you for your support. It means a lot to know that people read my stories and enjoy them as much as I do making them. Thank you again. With that said, let us move on to the story...
(FLASHBACK) REDCLIFFE VILLAGE
The village had definitely seen better days. Some of the buildings were in shambles, either set aflame by some cornered fool with a torch or in splinters, the undead reclaiming the land as if decreed by Mother Nature. The Warden and his companions had only just arrived a mere two hours ago and already the people of Redcliffe were more prepared than they had ever been for the last week or so. Still, there was a lot of work to do. Aedan, being the upstanding Warden he was, took to training the militia in the skills his mentors once taught him. Morrigan was busy pouting, Aedan's Mabari keeping her company. She seemed a little annoyed by the dog's attempts in making her play with it, eventually relenting and throwing a stick in a general direction in hopes of having some peace to herself at last.
Wynne aided the healers in tending to the wounded in the Chantry, along with Sten and Oghren as back-up for certain... very reluctant individuals trying to resist their treatment. Zevran meanwhile served as scout, using the windmill to keep an eye on the castle closely, ready to give a signal should the dead start walking again. That left Leliana, Alistair and Lucas to handle some small tasks. It was during this time that Alistair spilled the beans about his royal heritage to the both of them, having earlier told Aedan in private.
"So, yeah... My mother was a... handmaid. And my father just happened to be King Maric." Alistair said gruffly, finishing his long-winded tale while he was carrying some timber for use in defences for the town.
"I knew." Lucas answered, supporting one end of the massive log. Leliana took hold of the other end as Alistair took center stage.
"How did you...? Wait, I forget you're really good at visions sometimes." He drawled, trying to crack wise about Lucas' uncanny ability. 'Certainly handy in most cases, but it still freaks me out when I see it in action.'
"I try not to make it public knowledge." Lucas responded in kind, hefting the heavy log on his shoulder, causing him to wince from the load he was trying to bear.
"Yes, you've been doing such a good job lately." Alistair sarcastically remarked. Silence followed the group for some time, the three of them simply lugging the massive log to the lumber mill. They set it down on the ground next to it, receiving a warm acknowledgement of the mill workers' gratitude. Soon enough, Alistair prompted conversation anew as they were looking for more work to do.
"If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were going to tell everyone anyway... There's no point in using it. Doesn't help us with our quest... At worst, people might think you untrustworthy. With good reason too." Lucas summed up his thought process in one fell swoop.
"It's alright, Alistair. It doesn't change anything. In fact, it might be better. Ferelden will need someone to lead them after we remove Loghain." Leliana piped up, adding her two cents to the conversation.
"Maker's breath...No, Leliana. I am not at all suited to lead. I can barely find my own socks at times."
"Sometimes we have no choice. We must follow the path the Maker has laid out for us. And besides, you don't have to worry about finding your socks. That's what servants are for." Leliana giggled at the last sentence.
"Hooray." Alistair groaned sarcastically.
"Trust me, Alistair. Ferelden will be lucky to have you as King."
"Don't tell me I'm actually going to be that?" Alistair cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he was about to make another prophecy.
"Depends..." Lucas trailed off, which didn't sit well with Alistair.
"On what?"
"On what happens in Denerim." Lucas then looked in the general direction of Denerim, as did his travelling companions. Whatever was coming, it was apparent all roads will eventually lead to Denerim. The enemy was coming, little time left to waste.
War Room, Haven Chantry
Stepping into the war room for the first time, Lucas had to admit he had seen better lodgings before. 'This certainly doesn't beat the Amell estate. I guess I can consider it an upgrade from being on the road during the Blight.' He pondered, still twitching every time the thought of insects crawling all over your skin whilst trying to fall asleep entered his mental landscape. To the sides, several banners raising the Inquisition insignia were hung on the stone walls. Furthermore, several crates of old stuff remained within the confines of the room, simply adding to the theory that this room used to be nothing more than a chapel of sorts.
In the center of it all was the strategic map. A vast wooden table with the map of Thedas plastered on top, carvings in the supports and several metal figures on the board. Several drawers were built into the table, laden with various other pieces to signify other things besides simple troop and enemy placement. Lucas whistled a low tune, impressed by their progress.
"Wow...This is... new." He commented dryly, noting the impromptu setup.
"It will have to make do." Cullen echoed his sentiments, though was more at home with the improvisation. 'It serves its purpose. I see no reason it should change.'
"Hey there... Maxwell Trevelyan, at your service." Maxwell introduced himself, extending his hand in a welcoming gesture to the new arrival. Varric had spoken much about him as soon as he was done visiting. 'I never thought I'd actually see the Maker's Seer with my own eyes. Probably feels just like I do now, all this unwanted attention...'
"Lucas." He put it bluntly.
"No last name?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow.
"I prefer that remains a secret." He retorted, his tone taking a brusque manner as he spoke.
"So, I guess we're in the same boat." Maxwell said, brushing off the secretive and defensive tone Lucas had suddenly invoked.
"It appears to be that way."
"I hope we'll work well together. Can't let that Breach get any bigger than it is now..."
"It won't." Lucas brushed past him, a stern look on his face that either spoke volumes about his determination or volumes about his acerbic personality.
"Okay..." Maxwell could only look flabbergasted as all his expectations regarding Lucas was shot down left and right. All he could do was walk in with him and listen to what the Inquisition's advisors had to say.
"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our advisors." Cassandra addressed them both.
"Josephine is our ambassador. She'll be serving as our diplomat." She waved her hand to an Antivan lady, dressed in a gold and blue formal wear that looked very fetching and far too regal to belong in a place like this. On first impression, Maxwell could sense that she was not at all used to such downsize in luxury. Indeed, he could see her twitch sometimes, often trying to avoid large patches of dust.
"May I say that it is an honour to meet the both of you? I've heard many good things about your exploits." She said, wielding a book with a candle attached to the board holding the book.
"The pleasure is mine, Josephine." Maxwell greeted her warmly. Lucas merely shook her hand and gave a curt nod.
"Welcome aboard, ambassador." Lucas said.
"Commander Cullen leads the Inquisition's military forces." For Cullen, Lucas didn't need to bother with instructions. Aside from their encounter at the Ferelden Circle, Lucas also dealt with him during his ten year stint in Kirkwall. 'Ah, times I'd rather forget now...'
"Cullen. Nice to see that Meredith hasn't rubbed off on you..." Lucas sardonically quipped. Maxwell looked to Lucas, then to Cullen. 'Just how many people does this guy know?'
"Good to see you again, Seer. I never did get to thank you in Kirkwall. Your warning was most appreciated." Cullen was almost always business, but there was a crack, a show of gratitude beneath that authority figure.
"The damage was already done." Lucas looked at him with a guilty heart. 'Even with Meredith locked up in the loony bin, the Templars still went too far and the mages took it too far. There was no win state there...'
"Even so, your actions saved lives that could have been lost. For that, I am grateful." Cullen nodded, himself feeling guilty for being unable to assuage Lucas' guilt.
"As for you, Maxwell, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Same here, Commander."
"And last but not least..." Lucas groaned at this point. 'This is taking forever! We need to cut to the chase!' he thought to himself.
"Let's just cut to the chase, Cassandra. Leliana's the spymaster for our little party. She'll be handling operations we'd rather keep hidden from public view, so on and so forth." Lucas rattled them off as if speaking from a pre-written speech on paper.
"Yes, tactfully put, Lucas." Leliana sarcastically commented, earning a wry grin from her lover.
"That's why you keep me around." He responded in kind, receiving a mischievous grin in return.
"Pleasure to meet you, Leliana." Maxwell extended his hand. Leliana shook it with a curt nod of her head.
"Likewise, Herald."
"Now that we have pleasantries out of the way, shall we move onto the pressing matter at hand?"
"Right now, we have but limited resources and favours to pull from. Getting anything done will be tricky." Leliana laid out their current situation, hands pressed on the continent map spread out before them, a token denoting Haven's location on the board.
"We need to start winning hearts then. Show them that the Inquisition is here to help restore order, rather than whatever lies the Chantry will feed them." Josephine suggested.
"Actions do speak louder than words." Cullen concluded in agreement with Josephine.
"Exactly..."
"A revered mother, Mother Giselle, wishes to speak to the both of you." At the mention of someone involved with Chantry, both Maxwell and Lucas had to look at Leliana with a general sense of confusion. For Maxwell, it was more along the lines of why a Chantry mother would wish to associate with an organization that is by all means a group of heretics bent on perverting the Maker's will. On the other end, Lucas wondered what possible reason Giselle would have to speak to him.
"Why would a Chantry mother want to speak with us? Weren't we branded heretics by them?" Maxwell voiced his concerns.
"I do not know. But it's worth checking out, yes?" Leliana shrugged her shoulders, the plating on her shoulders clinking slightly under her moving body.
"She has a point." Cassandra agreed with Leliana.
"She's in the Hinterlands tending to the refugees there."
"Two birds with one stone. We go meet Mother Giselle and win hearts at the same time." Maxwell slammed his fist on his other hand, the lightbulb moment hitting him like an unexpected wave of ingenuity.
"Sounds like a plan. In the meantime, I'll try and contact the mages and the templars to seek their aid in closing the breach." With the meeting adjourned, all three of the advisors left the room, talking with their respective aides about the tasks they were asked to carry out. Cassandra left on her own accord, sparing one wary glance towards both Maxwell and Lucas before leaving them be and heading to the outer walls of Haven to practice. As they both walked out at the same time, Maxwell mumbled something about checking up on various requisition requests and strolled off ahead of Lucas to do so. Lucas finally stepped outside to see Haven for the first time since his visit during the Fifth Blight.
At first glance, nothing much had changed. Rocky mountains with loose rocks covered most entrances into Haven, surrounding it like a natural wall. Within the actual walls of Haven was a cascade of buildings and tents, many of which were nothing more than ramshackle huts and one story houses crafted entirely out of wood. 'No wonder the dragon can get funky with this place. It's one big fire hazard waiting to happen.' Looking around even further, Lucas made out the blacksmith's shop working on the outskirts, a trail of black smog pumping out from the roof of the place. The tavern was certainly lively when he passed through that vicinity, rife with the sounds of drunken soldiers singing tales to forget about the world, if only for a brief moment using the strongest booze they could find. Some merchants still peddled their wares, though the ones selling weapons and armour seemed to be doing more business than their competitors.
Just as he was about to leave, a messenger belonging to Leliana's group rushed past him, nearly knocking him down on his feet. Lucas caught sight of a parchment in his hand, tied with a thin piece of thread. Normally, he'd just brush it off as a mere intelligence report and think little else of it. Yet his gut and his foreknowledge suggested to him otherwise. 'Oh, no...' went his mind as he chased after the messenger back to Leliana's tent.
Meanwhile, Maxwell was busy talking with Solas soon after dealing with Threnn, their requisitions officer. Solas was an interesting character to Maxwell, his tales quite a treat to listen too at times. They shared an easy-going talk about elves, the Fade and the Breach before the subject inevitably turned elsewhere.
"Solas, have you ever heard of the Maker's Seer?"
"You mean our new travelling companion?"
"Yes. Does the Fade say anything about them? Do the spirits know anything?" Solas looked somewhat pleased with Maxwell's direct nature. 'Straight to the point? I guess it'll do...'
"You must understand. Spirits do not have much reason to stay in our world. Few wander only long enough to sate their curiosity before they live. As for whether they can shed light on our mysterious companion, I'm afraid they are as lost as you are." He shrugged his shoulders.
"And what about you?"
"Considering I've lived as an apostate for this long, my knowledge of him is... limited, possibly non-existent if certain theories hold weight." Solas answered plainly.
"Does the old elven text speak of him?" Maxwell inquired.
"Perhaps... Some texts could describe him as something else entirely, by a different name or identity. Perhaps he may have even walked amongst our kin as their own before..." Solas pondered the possibility in his head, wearing a slight frown as he went through the more logical explanations.
"You sound worried for some reason. Is there something wrong?" Maxwell prodded.
"I do not yet know. From what little you have told me, the Seer has been present for nearly every major conflict that has occurred thus far. It strikes me as suspicious, not mere coincidence."
"Is it? Isn't that part of his job description? Help the people with the foreknowledge he possesses?"
"Then why not stop it before it happens? Why allow for suffering to continue?" Maxwell had to concede the point. 'It is odd. According to Leliana during our discussions earlier, Lucas only gives information as it occurs. There are only rare occasions when he 'deviates' from the Maker's plan, as he puts it. I wonder how much of that is actually true?'
"Perhaps the..." Maxwell never got to finish his sentence.
"Are you insane?!" A loud yell echoed throughout the camp, heads spinning towards the source of the commotion.
"Sounded like Lucas. I'd best go check it out." Maxwell left Solas, who merely waved as the Herald left. When he got there, everyone surrounding Leliana's tent were trying to look busy, when in reality they were too fixated on what some considered to be a lovers' quarrel. Both of them were shouting at each other at the highest pitches they could go to, their hands either gripping to their waistline or pointing at each other with what seemed like angry intent.
"This is not how we do things, Leliana!"
"And what do you know of being a spymaster?!"
"I know that it doesn't mean this!"
"I'm sacrificing one man to save the rest!"
"That's not it and you know it!"
"We don't have the luxury of knowing the future, unlike you!" Leliana jabbed Lucas in the chest with her finger.
"Stop making excuses!" Lucas screamed, his hand shaking away at Leliana with anger. Leliana looked about ready to give him a piece of her mind until she spotted Maxwell standing right outside, no doubt hearing every last word from the last few minutes. She cleared her throat, alerting Lucas to their guest's presence.
"This conversation is over, Lucas." Leliana stubbornly got the last word. Lucas looked aghast, struggling to come up with something else to say. With a heavy sigh, he left the tent with a downcast look on his face.
"She'll listen to you. Just... talk her out of it." Lucas said, patting Maxwell on the back and disappearing into the Chantry.
"What was that about?" Maxwell thumbed over in the general direction Lucas headed in.
"One of my agents has killed another, most likely as an act of betrayal. Lucas was... vehemently opposed to the idea of killing him."
"Well, why? It sounds like we shouldn't." At his words, Leliana sighed yet again. 'Oh, great... Someone else to preach this nonsense at a time when I don't need it...'
"Sigh... I have no time for ideals, not at a time like this. If one death spares my agents a similar fate, then it is the right thing to do." Leliana stuck to her guns.
"Ideals are important, especially at a time like this."
"We can't risk losing our assets." Leliana argued.
"Who says we will? Surely there is some other way of keeping your secrets safe that doesn't involve murder."
"You feel very strongly about this." Leliana sounded very pissed, Maxwell almost thinking of backing off when he saw her arms twitch. With a somewhat reluctant sigh, Leliana signalled not to him but to her aide, who promptly rushed up to her side.
"Apprehend Butler but keep him alive." The agent nodded, bowing low and thumping his fist against his chest before sauntering away to do her bidding.
"Now if you have nothing else to discuss, let us get back to work." Her tone was icy, as cold as winter when she spoke, a clear sign that she was not at all convinced that it was the right thing to do. Before Leliana turned away, she heard Maxwell speak again.
"You know he just predicted again, right?"
"Yes... I'm aware." When he left, Maxwell spotted Lucas out of the corner of his eye, leaning against the doorframe and looking on with a solemn look awash over him.
"You were right. She listened." Maxwell said meekly, his mood drooping when Lucas' expression took a turn for the worse.
"I wish I wasn't." He weakly made to leave, his tone feeling completely defeated.
"You got the outcome you predicted. Isn't that a good thing?" Maxwell raised his hands in the air, somewhat confused by this outcome. 'I thought he'd be happy to be right. Or that I helped him...'
"No, it's the fact that she wouldn't listen to me." Maxwell could only watch him limp away, his shoulders slumped down in apparent sadness. Shaking his head, Maxwell stepped back inside, eager to prepare to head to the Hinterlands and get to work on closing the Breach.
The Hinterlands
It was nice and sunny in the Hinterlands, the complete opposite of Haven's chilly embrace. The rays of sunlight pierced the veil offered by the forest, highlighting the inherent beauty beneath all the trees. Various herbs and metals dotted the landscape, making Maxwell glad that he had asked the group to bring along picks to mine the precious metals, shears to cut the herbs and markers to note down any large concentrations that the Inquisition can use to replenish supplies. Several ruins also dotted the landscape, its carcasses having long been reclaimed by nature with vines overgrowing their intrusions. They had just set off from the forward base camp the scouts had set up, after being briefed on the region by lead scout Harding. The party had been walking to the crossroads, where they were told housed a bunch of refugees that might need some help and Mother Giselle, still tending to the wounded.
"We never were properly introduced. My name is Solas." Solas extended his hand out to Lucas, who reciprocated the gesture. Even then, Lucas was already feeling slightly mistrustful, especially considering his actual persona as the Dread Wolf of elven legends.
"Lucas. Nice to meet you..." Lucas gave a plain smile to the elven apostate.
"I must say, the stories don't do you justice. You sound kind."
"When I need to be... People tend to remember fear more often than not." Lucas said, kicking a stray rock in his path, the small stone hitting the tree right in front of Maxwell and tearing a piece of bark from it.
"So, do you know how our stories end?" Solas put it bluntly, his staff knocking on the dirt path once every few seconds, the soft thump a constant as it ringed in Lucas' ears.
"You're asking for spoilers, Chuckles?" Varric chimed in, carrying his crossbow Bianca in his arms. They had run into some trouble earlier involving some nasty looking spiders and Varric hasn't sheathed his weapon ever since. 'Well... That's new.' Lucas made a mental note of it.
"And why not, Master Tethras? Don't you want to know?" Solas responded.
"You don't just skip to the end of the book when you read. It's all about the journey there. Otherwise, most books would be less than ten pages. And I wouldn't be selling as much. Besides, people are only interested in the ending if the journey was exciting." Varric replied earnestly, revealing much of his idyllic idea of a storyteller.
"I know of an ending. It does not mean your end, so to speak." Lucas put his answer forward, deliberately being cryptic about it.
"I see. So your clairvoyance only goes so far." Solas noted.
"Watch it, Solas. I know your secret and like most other secrets, it has the potential to destroy many things. I would suggest not adopting such a tone." Lucas retorted, not liking the idea of being called expendable, even if the intent was far from that.
"If you know, then share with us my apparently embarrassing secret." Solas courageously answered, in reality frightful of just how much Lucas actually knew.
"I'm not stupid. There is no point in revealing it now, neither for you, me or the Inquisition." Lucas balked, Solas' response somewhat disconcerting.
"Then you can't prove that you know."
"I guess we'll see soon enough." Lucas responded curtly, letting the chirping of the birds and the rustle of the leaves in the wind be the only sounds to echo in the forest. Cassandra was watching the entire thing play out with a curious interest and she voiced her opinion on the matter.
"You're quite acerbic in your dealings, Seer. It ill suits you, being a proclaimed servant of the Maker." Lucas stifled a chuckle when Cassandra pointed out his behaviour to him, only aware of the sheer irony in that statement when he gave a knowing look at her before responding.
"The Maker gives us discretion over what we do, so long as peace is restored. Unlike Josephine, sometimes brute force is a measure we must resort to." Lucas tapped his blades when he said this. When he arrived here, he was nothing more than a defenceless scholar, forced to hide behind more competent men and women as they fought his battles for him. He was far from the best, if Leliana could be asked but he knew just enough to get by. Plus, he had an emergency weapon that was brought along for the ride with him, though he hasn't been given a reason to use it thus far. 'I doubt they'd take kindly when I reveal it anyway. I can just imagine them trying to figure out how it works...' he thought to himself, Cassandra's next words snapping him out of his mind.
"You sound like you're convincing yourself."
"I'm still hopeful that lives can be saved without bloodshed. Yet my experiences have shown that this is not always the case." He sadly intoned, regretful of that particular life lesson. Cassandra could only nod in solemn agreement. 'He has a way of saying things that are true... and yet so depressing.' With that, silence returned yet again and the party walked forward in silence, no more words to say at the time.
"Well, this is depressing." Varric responded, echoing the sentiments of their party almost to the letter. The crossroads wasn't just packed with refugees. No, it was filled to the brim, every last space left free taken up by people attempting to escape the giant hole in the sky. Several carts dotted the premises, merchants selling their wares wherever they can or civilians desperately holding on to what little they have. Several fires also made a faint impression of a perimeter, surrounded by militia and the advance forces of the Inquisition occupied more by gossip than by demons at this time.
"Well, then...Time to go to work." Maxwell quipped, stepping forward. Lucas hung back a little as they moved forward, knowing that he was once again willingly stepping into yet another mess. 'Why can't I just have a normal life?' he pondered, eventually walking into full view of the people at the crossroads, ready to begin another adventure.