The room I woke up in reminded me of the little cabin my nanny had on the grounds of the homestead. The first thing you would notice upon entering was it was always warm. No, not in that unpleasant way where you are too warm in the summer or an uncomfortable heat of a wayward fire during the winter. It reminds you of cuddle-hugs from your mother when she tucked you into bed and of the robust flavor of chicken soup. Then, the smells hit you. Herbs drying above the mantelpiece, freshly-trussed hay. There was freshly-baked bread and smoked rabbit. Then your eyes would leap on the various knick-knacks that litter the one-room cabin, things that were accumulated over the years by an elf who had wanderlust in her blood.
Waking up with a reminder of home, was a pleasant diversion from the various pains and aches that littered my body. I was pleased to see that most of the wounds that I received from the explosion and the trek up the mountain had scabbed over. The mark was relatively calm, giving out a few sparks but otherwise it was not paining me that much. At least, this thing has settled. I looked down and saw that I was wearing what looked like a set of beige pajamas. It was horrendous. And someone changed my clothes. I sniffed my armpit. I smell good. Who the hell saw me naked? Finished with my self-inspection, I stood and walked to a window.
Snow. Check. Evergreen trees. Check. Mountains. Check. People everywhere. Check. I was back in Haven. I wondered if our attempt on closing the Breach was successful. Would I be able to start my search for Maxwell now? Suddenly, the door opened letting a young elf in. She didn't look up from perusing the bundle of clothes she was carrying along with a wooden box. She proceeded to put the clothes on top of the chest at the foot of the bed. Almost like a reflex, she chanced a glance up to the head of the bed. I watched her took in the empty bed and was visibly startled when I made a small cough. She whirled around and looked at me with wide and disbelieving eyes. After a moment, realizing that she was staring, she dropped the box and prostrated herself in front of me. Oh no.
"I didn't know you were awake, I swear!"
"Oh no. Oh no," I said, bending down to collect the spilled contents of the box. "I should have made a small noise or something when you came in."
"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant –"she said still on her knees.
"Please stop doing that– "
"You are back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."
There was a Rivaini fortune teller who set up shop in a shadowy corner at the markets of Lowtown. I had just arrived at the city and was going through the list of needed ingredients for the potions I was brewing for the refugees. I had always passed her stall but never had the time to have my future divined. I was interested, of course, but I was fresh off the success in Ferelden – I had my fate in my hands and the world was before me. It was when I was hurrying to Lady Elegant's stall that a soft Psssttt beckoned to me. The Rivaini peered at me and posed a question: Your father and betrothed are drowning. You are only able to save one. Who are you going to save? I always had the opinion that you always have multiple choices: option one and two, indecision, not doing anything and creating a new one. The last I held in firm belief. Creating opportunities when there are none. But that was before Kirkwall. So hearing her say about saving someone, let alone a whole lot of people, was unbelievable.
"It was not closed?"
"The Breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say."
"And I was asleep for three days?"
"Yes, my lady. Adan and the mage Solas came every day to monitor your condition. You were…uneasy in your sleep and they made tonics to soothe the fever. Mage Solas mostly examined the mark in your hand. It was amazing, my lady, to see him work. Even if I wasn't a mage, you could feel the energy surrounding you and him. Lanya said that he –" she stopped abruptly and self-consciously bowed her head. She looked frightened. What does she think I'd do? Shower her with cutting remarks? I looked closely. She was frightened. Elves, in general, were encouraged to strive to be invisible and to not engage in conversations with their betters. "I beg your pardon, my lady. I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. She said, 'At once.'"
I sighed. Maybe it was not too late to return to bed and pretend to be sleeping still. "And where is she?"
"In the chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once,' she said." With that she promptly ran to the door, opened it hastily and let herself out like the very wolves of Fen'harel were after her.
I stood there deciding what to do. I was still tired and my body was sore all over. The scrapes and scratches I had gotten three days ago were healed. I looked at my skin closely and noted that I had no new scars to boast of. The one who healed me must be a very skilled mage and from what the elf told me then, it must be that bald-headed elf, Solas. Must remember to pick his brain if he is still around. The only other healer I know that was skilled as he seemed to be was…. Eff you you effing excuse for a shit, chicken mage. I took a deep, steadying breath. No use working up a steam over someone who was not there. Doesn't mean I won't stop cursing him.
I put the last of the contents of the box, a bundle of elfroot, stood up and placed the box on top of a table. However much I wanted to start my search for Maxwell right away, I know that what I landed myself in would be far more bigger than what I expected it to be. The Conclave was supposed to be the initial move towards resolving the Mage-Templar War and looked what happened. A big explosion. A mage the likely suspect. That suspect is me. I was meant to just be there to lend support to the Ostwick Circle, I didn't expect to get involved in a growing organization led by the Hands of the Divine. The gossip at the Teyrn's Wintersend ball had whispered about Divine Justinia directing her Hands into forming an inquisition. Cedric got a funny look on his face when he heard that and muttered something along the lines of "Surely not that old inquisition." I looked up at him inquiringly but he just shook his head. I spent the rest of the night at our manor's library.
The best option would be to see what Cassandra wanted with me. Most likely connected with finally and utterly sealing the Breach. I could stay perhaps. Wasn't helping in any way I could been part of the plan all along? Albeit this surely was more dramatic. Then, I would appeal to Leliana for help with regards to Maxwell and Henry. Then, whatever my part would be in this new adventure.
With a decision made, I picked up the clothes on top of the chest. It was the same leather armor I was wearing at the Conclave, meant to conceal and let me fit in with the ordinary soldiers who were traveling with our delegation. It was as hideous as the beige pajamas I was currently wearing but loads better. There was something still missing though. The daggers which were hidden in holsters on my back were nowhere to be found - confiscated, most likely – as well as the bag of coins attached to my belt. Thieves. Huffing a breath in annoyance, I pulled on the boots provided, went to the door and opened it.
A blast of cold air greeted me and a sight I never thought would happen outside of the Trevelyan manor. Soldiers stood in line from the foot of the steps of the cabin, lining a path. Refugees and villagers were each going on about their business but when they noticed that I was standing at the cabin door's threshold, they stopped and stared. These people are weird. I hope they won't try to do me in now that Cassandra is not with me. Warily, I walked down the steps, eyeing soldiers and citizens alike. No one was moving, the only sounds were the crunching of feet on snow and the whistling of the wind. The soldiers who lined the path, I could deal with; but the people who were crowding around behind them were a bit too much – especially when they started to bow or kneel as I made my way to the chantry. Now, what was going on? I heard their whispers – of me, the mark and the Breach – and something about a herald. The awed stares and their seeming reverence creeped me out. Hunching my shoulders, I averted my eyes and hurried up some stone stairs and past some tents. Upon seeing the Chantry, I broke into a light jog. The sooner I get behind some walls, the better.
