Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Doctor Strange any of their related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.
Rating: T
Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Origins DLC, Awakening, and Dragon Age II, Dragon Age II DLC, Dragon Age Inquisition as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling. May also contain spoilers for Doctor Strange movie and/or comics.
Chapter Six: Pepper
Twenty hour days, six hour nights. It wouldn't make sense, except for the fact that time was stopped, so apparently hours and days no longer meant anything in the grand scheme of things, just the remainder of a concept that was stuck in his head. Lessons filled his mornings, at what he thought of as noon he got a moment's time to eat a bowl of barley and beans - standard Fereldan army fare - and then it was back to his lessons. Despite his feebleness, Wong seemed happy with his progress in his physical training. Doctor Strange, on the other hand, seemed worried at his lack of advancement in his sorcerous studies.
"You should be progressing faster. You were doing so well with the book I gave you originally," he said after the first "week" had passed.
"That was a book of 'basic' spells for the unlettered," Loghain said. "Now you've got me reading books with titles like A Dissection of the Elder or Germanic Futhark and Vedic, Classical Sanskrit. The Codex Imperium. Astronomia Nova. Maxim's Primer. Some books I find I can't even read, others… far beyond my understanding. I cannot go from the bottom to the top all at once. Surely there is a lesser level that I can begin on?"
"This is the lesser level," Strange said. He stroked his beard in thought for a moment. "If I could see inside your head I could see what the problem might be, but that's…"
"Not going to happen," Loghain said, scowling.
Strange shrugged. "Perhaps the answer is simple: perhaps you are simply not open to this knowledge. But I think there may be something else involved here. Tell me, Loghain, and tell me honestly: have you always had trouble learning new things? I know you told me that you had difficulty learning the things that King Maric wanted you to learn, but what about when your mother taught you reading and writing? Was that difficult, too?"
He was clearly uncomfortable answering the question, but finally Loghain nodded. "Took a long time. Mother made me read as often as she could find a book for me, and made me write reports on the meaning behind the story of all of them. And I had to rewrite them over and over again until I did them right, too. I think by the end I could read and write better than she could, but that's what she wanted for me."
"But is it easy for you to read, or do you have to work at it?" Strange asked.
"Doesn't everything require work?" Loghain said.
"It does for dyslexics."
"For whom?"
"Dyslexia, my boy, is a disorder by which symbols are not correctly translated by the brain. And so a letter or a number may appear garbled in some way. The common perception is that they appear backwards, but this is not necessarily true. The point is that they don't appear as they are, making it very difficult to read and perform arithmetic. Your dimension is not aware of this condition, but it exists there. You simply write it off as… 'stupidity.' Your mother was quite different from other mothers, in pushing you to learn to read and write despite your difficulties, if dyslexia was indeed your problem."
"Is there a cure for this?" Loghain asked.
"No. Only what you yourself have already done, learn to work around it. But I think you've fought long enough, don't you? You're a sorcerer now, and sorcerers know tricks other people don't. Let's see if this helps any, shall we?"
Strange held out a hand and a small pair of wire-rimmed spectacles appeared on his palm. He passed his other hand over them and a few sparks flew from them. He handed them over.
"Now. Understanding the books I've given you to read is your province, and on that you shall have to work very hard, but let's just see if these don't help you with the reading."
"I don't have trouble seeing," Loghain said.
"These glasses don't correct sight," Strange said. "Only the transmission of symbols from page to brain. It's not a cure for dyslexia - take the glasses off and you will be quite dyslexic again - but with the glasses on, you should find you have no further difficulty reading."
"Hmph. Handy. Assuming I am dyslexic, and not merely stupid."
"You are not stupid. But you might not be dyslexic, either. Still, I believe it is very likely. Give it a try, and if they don't work for you, just put them aside, and I'll gather them later. We will find another solution."
"What if there is no solution? What if I am simply too stupid for sorcery?"
"You can learn this if you try. You have more than enough intellect, and far more than enough will. You simply have to turn them both in this direction. Now return to your study and work. I expect to see progress soon."
Loghain found his way back to his room, which, after the first day, he had discovered was actually a suite of rooms. Comfort was apparently only a luxury he needed to earn in the bedroom, for his study, library, greenhouse, and laboratory were all beautifully appointed. The doors - possibly the rooms themselves - simply disappeared at nighttime so that he could not cap out in one of the more comfortable areas.
He checked under the lid of the Weber grill, and made sure that the charcoal was sufficiently warm. The egg had about another week left to incubate, according to the book, before it would hatch. The species he was supposedly hatching was very small and intelligent, but it was a dragon. He really didn't think this was a good idea, but what the Masters wanted, he supposed they would get, whatever their reasons. Egg tended, he opened the door to his study.
Like the rest of the house, this room was wood paneling-heavy, but Loghain liked the look. It was more opulent than the hand-built wood house his father had built but it reminded him of that first home all the same. He had a fine desk and a comfortable chair in which to sit at it, good lighting, and a sideboard at which he could fill his glass with whatever he wished at any time, from water to whiskey. Given the short rations at meal times, it was odd that they were so free with the drinks. He stuck to water. He knew how stupid alcohol made him.
He sat down at his desk and turned on the light, pulling up what he thought of as the worst of the books he was meant to study, A Dissection of the Elder or Germanic Futhark, a book of a runes and their translations into what he thought of as the King's Tongue or Common, what the book called English. It had all been gibberish to him before now. With the new spectacles, perhaps he would be able to parse it out at last. He unfolded the bows and slipped them on.
It still looked like gibberish, but he set himself to working through it. He couldn't tell if the glasses were really helping or not, not with regards to the runic symbols, but it did seem easier to read the parts that were written in his own language. With a concerted effort, he learned to read enough runic symbols over the next few hours to translate his own name into the Elder Futhark. Over the next few days, he learned to translate an entire book written in the runes, and learned much about translating Sanskrit as well. It frustrated him, but it certainly wasn't as difficult as it had started out to be. Apparently he'd had a "condition" all along. Perhaps he wasn't quite as stupid as he thought.
Despite his busy schedule, the Masters arranged it perfectly so that he was present when the egg hatched. He watched as the little creature inside cracked the shell open with the tiny egg tooth on the end of its nose. When the shell was open it lay in the remains of its amniotic sac, tiny and blind and mostly helpless, the color of a charcoal briquette itself. Its tiny, underdeveloped wings were stuck against its body with embryonic fluid and it lay struggling on its back and crying out in tiny squeaks. It was only about an inch long from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail, such a tiny creature that it hardly seemed capable of life.
A plate of cubed meat, the chunks as large as the dragonlet, appeared on the shelf of the grill. Even one piece looked like entirely too much food for the little thing, but he took a piece and put it down on the charcoal nearby. The dragonlet struggled harder, managed to roll to its feet, and crawled to the meat. It glommed onto it and tore a bit from the side with the parrot-like beak on the end of its nose (it had no apparent teeth as yet) and swallowed it down. It kept tearing the meat and swallowing it down until it was gone.
"Greedy little bugger, aren't you?" he said. "But then, I suppose I'd be hungry, too, if all I had to eat for two weeks was what I found inside a dragon's egg."
The dragonlet responded to the sound of his voice, raising its little, wobbling head and turning it towards him. Its eyes wouldn't open, not yet, but it did seem to know he was there. It opened its mouth and squawked shrilly.
"You're not going to be a loudmouth, are you?" Loghain asked. "I don't think I can abide a loudmouth dragon." He reached out a finger and gently stroked the dragon's head. The dragon glommed on to his fingertip and held on tight. "Hey, you little shit - none of that, now. You just ate!"
"He needs a name," Strange said from behind him.
"Can't I have some privacy at least in my bedroom?" Loghain said.
"At most moments, but I wanted to see how you were doing at this particular type of animal husbandry."
"It's a boy, then? The book said you can't tell until they get older."
"I don't know if it's a boy or a girl, actually. I'm just a chauvinist. Product of my era. Besides, I have a fifty-fifty chance of being correct."
"Why exactly did you think I needed a pet dragon?" Loghain asked.
"This really isn't a pet. You'll discover he's far too intelligent for that. The egg was orphaned and need someone to hatch it. I felt you needed someone to bond with. It seemed a good match. You have always gotten along better with those of species other than your own."
"You mean like elves?"
Strange chuckled. "No. Elves are of the same species as humans. So are dwarves. They are merely different races. You tend to be more comfortable with them than with humans because you feel that humans tend to be untrustworthy, but your paranoia pushes you to feel that way about everyone to some degree. Animals are the only ones with whom you share your true soul, because it is only with them that you feel you can truly trust. Many sorcerers are deeply attached to animals. Later you may find you attract a 'familiar,' a magical or mundane creature that takes on magical qualities unique to itself and you, that is devoted only to you, and assists you in your magical learning. Most sorcerers have one. Wong's is a purobolos."
"What's a purobolos?"
"A large, blue, glowing creature that floats in the air and explodes when it feels threatened. I don't recommend becoming acquainted with 'Buddha,' as it is named, because it can be rather touchy with everyone but Wong himself."
"Buddha? Wong told me something about a Buddha while he was kicking my face in at practice one day last week. Isn't there a religion based around him in this dimension?"
"Wrong Buddha. And the familiar is actually named 'Buddha' because… well, because he's so round."
"What's your familiar?" Loghain asked.
Strange cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Now, one thing you should keep in mind, just in case, is that not all sorcerers, not even Master sorcerers, gain a familiar…"
"You don't have one?"
"No, I… I do."
"Then what is it?"
"…A rabbit."
Loghain blinked. "A rabbit?"
"A rabbit. Pester is a very good familiar. I could perhaps wish that he were a little less… cute and cuddly… but that is neither his fault nor mine. A familiar is whatever it happens to be, and its power is not lessened by its species."
"How do familiars get chosen? I mean, what makes one specimen of one particular species become your familiar over any other?"
"The processes are not completely known to me. The Ancient One may have known more about it than I do, but what I do know is that… like calls to like."
"So… Wong is like a giant, exploding bomb creature, which I totally understand, and you are essentially a rabbit."
"That's not the case exactly. Animals are more like people than you may be aware. They may not have 'sentience,' as we define it, but they have individual personalities. Pester is a rabbit, true, but overall he is… an arrogant little prick. That is why he became my familiar, if you truly must know."
"So you're admitting you're an arrogant little prick, then?" Loghain said.
"I have always been. I'm working on changing myself. I shudder to think what sort of creature may draw to you. Even after being inside your mind, I'm not entirely sure what you are, other than dangerous."
"Probably not a rabbit, then, eh?"
"Probably not, no. In any event, there are so many creatures throughout the many dimensions that it is highly unlikely that any two sorcerers alive today attract the same type of creature."
"What did this Ancient One have for a familiar?" Loghain asked.
Strange shook his head. "If she had one, I never met it. It would have been as nearly immortal as she was, but when she died it would have died with her. Such is the way of familiars: they bind to you, and become immune to disease and injury and old age for as long as their master lives. The moment your life ends, however, theirs does, also."
"Handy, but kind of sad, too. Maybe I'll get a mabari."
"More than likely it will be a fighter, whatever it may be, but I don't think you can count on pinpointing or even recognizing the breed or species. As I said, too many animals spread through too many dimensions. But if you'd like a mabari, there's no reason why you couldn't have one, once you've proven that you can take care of your little friend in the grill back there."
"Yes, there is a reason. Mabari have to choose you, you can't choose them. Besides, I already had one. I never really wanted another. It was just a passing fancy."
"Well, if you're certain. But if you should change your mind…"
"I won't."
"So. Have you given any thought to a name for your new little friend?"
Loghain turned back to the grill and the tiny creature laying on the glowing briquettes within. "I don't know. Never named a dragon before. 'Pepper' sounds appropriate enough, perhaps."
"If he does turn out to be male, he won't remain pepper-black."
"Some peppers aren't black, now are they? And the firey taste is the important part, isn't it?"
Strange smiled. "True enough. Feed him another piece of meat. At this stage of life, he has a ravenous appetite. He doesn't exactly lose it at any point, either."
"Where does he store it all?"
"Burns it up with his fantastic metabolism. He's a dragon. The dragons in your dimension are different - they eat fabulous amounts of food once a century and then sleep for another hundred years. Most dragons in most dimensions are a little more proactive about feeding. They need to eat a lot of food, all the time. Fortunately, in most places where the really big ones live, either the prey is large enough and plentiful enough to compensate, or they have learned to use magic to change themselves into smaller, more food-efficient body forms in order to survive. In this dimension, our dragons frequently pass as human."
"Amazing."
"Dragons are some of the oldest, most intelligent creatures in any of the dimensions. If they had only been granted the convenience of naturally-occurring thumbs, they probably would have created the first civilizations. They certainly invented language. The mark of a true dragon is a natural affinity for languages. Many species can speak. Others may be telepathic."
"What about our dragons, back in Thedas?"
"Telepathy. The sheer size and power of them was enough to make the early Tevinters worship them, and certain amongst the dragons took advantage of that."
"The so-called 'Old Gods.'"
"Precisely."
"So, will 'Pepper' here be able to speak?"
"Not directly. He will, over time, develop a telepathic connection with you, if you will allow. Even if you do not, the Teacup Opaleye is very good at reading people, even without a telepathic connection."
"If I let him into my head, does that mean you will be able to get in?"
Strange let out a huff of breath through his nose in a kind of not-quite amusement. "Probably not. In any event, that is something that I shall not be attempting to do any longer."
"So you say."
"I will simply trust you from this moment on to tell me anything that I might need to know. Everything else… is none of my business."
"You've got that right," Loghain said.
