A/N: Damn it, I have gotten really carried away writing my Mass Effect story. Good thing this one has a little bit of a backlog, but, uh, not much. If it takes a bit more time between the updates in the future, you know why. Not to worry though, this story will be finished, sooner or later. :)
Chapter 7
An unknown place, in an undetermined time
The landscape surrounding them was shrouded in deep mists, like sulfurous smoke rising through the cracks in the rocky ground. Unable to see anything ten feet further from her, Merrill's only option was to follow her demonic guide, Xebenkeck, picking her way through the stone outcroppings with such confidence as if she truly knew directions in this dismal, alien place. Whenever she looked around them, the scenery seemed to swirl and shift, one moment she could be certain she saw a great forest spreading around them as they walked, then a gust of wind blew from nowhere, and as the mists settled anew, Merrill was sure that now there was a barren, desolate wasteland surrounding them.
She could not remember how much time had passed since Xebenkeck pulled her through the eluvian and into this realm of shadow and mystery. It was a disconcerting feeling, her senses unable to tell her anything related to time. She only felt the absence of it, as if they had entered a place in which time was a nonexistent concept, and it was making Merrill increasingly dizzy and unsettled.
Then there was this prevalent sense of something... large in the distance, beyond the mists, beyond whatever they hid, standing between them and... what seemed like a large construction, a grand city that she could not see, only feel. Is that the place that I've seen beyond the Veil, what the humans call the Black City? Or perhaps it is the Golden City, the seat of their Maker? Merrill wondered at herself. I always thought that the eluvian would lead me to Arlathan. Maybe it has... but why is it so dismal like this?
Caught up in her thoughts, Merrill did not notice that Xebenkeck had stopped moving and the Dalish elf ended up lightly bumping against the scantily clad form of the desire demon. "Careful," her guide turned around, speaking in hushed tones. "I sense something. We are not as alone in this place as I thought."
"I don't see anyth-" Merrill started, but then yelped as Xebenkeck swiftly pulled her downwards, a powerful crackling ball of lightning passing above their heads and sizzling against the rocky outcroppings. She squinted in the direction the deadly spell had come from, now seeing a tall, slender shape emerging from the shadows, holding a mage staff at the ready. At first, Merrill was sure that it was another demon, but the stranger's approach revealed her as a human, a strange looking one for sure, but still a human. The woman's skin was pale, and she was wearing a strange sort of black mage robes, the kind that left too much of her body exposed in ways that Merrill would never dare to show. She appeared to be very beautiful, but the look in her crystalline green eyes was filled with so much contempt, coldness and arrogance, that Merrill withdrew further away, having faced the strange witch's stare.
"I am Morrigan, and you are intruders in my realm," the raven-haired mage declared haughtily, her staff waving about threateningly. "State your purpose here, or face my wrath!"
Xebenkeck straightened up, staring at their attacker with an amused look in her eyes. "Your realm? Aren't you a bold one to make such claim?" she laughed, much to the annoyance of the witch. "Wait... I think I know you..." Xebenkeck quickly approached their attacker, but backed off as Morrigan raised her staff threateningly. "Is that you, Flemeth?" she asked, making Merrill's eyes almost pop out of their sockets from surprise. "Or are you one of her daughters, sent here in search for ancient knowledge?"
Morrigan's lips twisted in a snarl. "Her daughter I am, but nobody has sent me here," she snapped. "I have defied Flemeth's will and have come here on my own volition, to find out what her interest in this place is."
"Then perhaps we can work together?" Xebenkeck asked, smiling amiably. "You know what they say, an enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"How do you know of Asha'bellanar?" Merrill dared to ask, stepping closer to the other two.
"I would like to know as well," Morrigan nodded, still not relaxing from her hostile position. "And if I am not to fight you, then you should make your introductions as well."
"As you wish," the desire demoness said, the smile on her lips growing more smug. "My name is Xebenkeck, and this is my friend, a sweet and curious elf who dreamed of nothing else but to explore the secrets of this ancient place. What is your name, child?" Xebenkeck turned to her.
"Merrill," she quickly replied.
"As for your question... I know Flemeth from age so ancient that you would not believe me if I told you. Perhaps, later I might tell you more, but this will have to do for now," Morrigan looked about to protest, raising her staff again, but suddenly found her weapon pulled out of her hands by an invisible force, tossing it aside, before the same invisible hand gripped her by the throat and lifted her in the air, causing the witch to desperately struggle for breath, her feet kicking in thin air as she wheezed and coughed.
"Understand this, Morrigan," Xebenkeck spoke gently, but in such way that it made Merrill shake from fear, the voice like a poisonous caress. "I can and will kill you without giving it much thought. Do not seek to challenge me. Your only hope to survive the dangers of this place is by listening to me and doing exactly what I tell you," she flicked her hand and Morrigan collapsed on the ground, coughing her heart out. "Do I make myself clear?" she stared at the witch, who could only manage a brief nod before resuming her coughing.
As Xebenkeck casually strode forward, leaving the two of them behind, Merrill rushed to Morrigan's aid, offering her a flask of water and supporting her as she slowly rose from the ground. The raven-haired witch hastily grabbed the flask from her hands, glaring at Merrill as she took a few sips before pushing the flask back into the elf's hands, angry at being bested and humiliated by someone more powerful.
"I don't know what she is," Merrill whispered to the other mage, hoping that despite her prickly personality, she would eventually become an ally. "But we better do as she tells us. She is immensely powerful. I read that she is one of the Forgotten Ones... mystical ancient and much feared beings. Perhaps that is how she knows Asha-... I mean, Flemeth."
Morrigan's stare with which she faced Merrill seemed to lose some of its coldness. "Perhaps you are right," she agreed, rubbing her sore neck and wincing. "And perhaps you are not as dim-witted as you look," she added a moment later, Merrill unsure whether she should feel flattered or insulted.
Just then, Xebenkeck's shape reappeared close by. "Hurry up, my dear friends, for we have much to do," she said, before breaking into a disturbing chuckle. "Remember... you do not have an eternity..."
Val Chevin, Orlais, Present Day
Another sleepless night, huddling under the blankets and staring at the dark sky outside was suddenly interrupted by a heavy bang on the doors of her small rented apartment. Bethany immediately jumped up in the bed, feeling alarmed. This noise did not sound like a normal knock on the doors, it was more like someone trying to crash through them. She stood still for a moment, wondering if it had simply been an accident, one of her neighbors accidentally toppling against the doors in drunken haze, but then the second loud bang came and she jumped out of her bed, hastily reaching for her mage robes, folded on the chair nearby.
She was still pulling the robe over her head, when a frightening crash accompanied by sounds of splintering wood made her heart skip. Someone kicked the remains of the door aside and strode in, heavy steel boots sounding threatening against the creaking floor boards and Bethany was in the middle of reaching for her staff, when the intruder appeared in her view, looking just as surprised to see her as she was, staring back.
"I... think I remember you," Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast said sternly, stepping inside her room and facing her. "That young mage from Kirkwall. Sister of Champion Hawke."
"You have a good memory, Seeker," Bethany offered a smile.
"That does not explain why you have gone to such lengths to seek me out," Cassandra said, almost angrily, and Bethany shrunk back a little. "We, Seekers, depend on our existence remaining a secret, and you spread the tales about us like an old Rivaini fishwife. Do those people at the Chantry even know they were sweet-talked by an apostate?" Bethany paled at the accusation. "I suspect not. I suspect they would be very angry to find that out."
"It was the only way I could think of," Bethany tried defensively. "I have learned something that could be of great importance to the Chantry... and I could not think of anyone else to share it with than one of you, Seekers." Cassandra looked at her suspiciously, so she quickly moved to elaborate. "My adventures lead me to an ancient prison in the middle of Wimmark Wasteland, a prison built solely to imprison a very powerful being. One of the original Magisters who travelled to the Golden City."
Cassandra's eyes widened in surprise. "The Chantry would be... most interested." Then her gaze hardened again. "How do I know you have not simply invented the tale to get something from me?"
Bethany reached out to pick up the old Tevinter amulet from a shelf behind her, every movement watched by Cassandra's keen eyes. She tossed the amulet towards the Nevarran who caught it easily. "I took this from the corpse of the Magister," she said simply. "You can probably verify its age with some Chantry historian." Cassandra looked back at her, not knowing what to say. "Why don't we sit down and I'll tell you the whole tale?" Bethany offered, pointing at the nearby table. "Then you can decide what to do afterwards..."
Half an hour or so later, when Bethany had finished, she was glad to see that her story had left quite strong impression on the Seeker. Cassandra was shaking her head, twirling the ancient amulet in her fingers, looking thoughtful and uncertain. "The Chantry would be glad to see part of its story vindicated by facts," she eventually said. "As for the other things the Magister said... the Chantry would be less pleased to learn of all that. If revealed... the implications in the current political climate could be... disastrous," Cassandra paled as she spoke. "The mages would undoubtedly try and use it to their advantage, claiming that the Chantry had lied about the corruption of the Golden City and used the old myth to enslave them in their Circles."
"I'm sorry, but that's how it sounds to me," Bethany remarked. "Isn't it the Seeker's duty to uncover the truth?"
"Uncover yes, but not necessarily disclose to everyone," Cassandra snapped curtly. "Perhaps you do not realize how close Thedas stands to open war between the mages and templars. Revelations like this one could be something that finally lights up this keg of blackpowder."
"I... did not think it was that bad," Bethany shuddered. "I would not wish to be the cause for more bloodletting. But I also do not wish the truth be swept under a rug."
"That will not happen, I assure you," Cassandra said honestly. "I will investigate this personally. But my first and foremost duty is to do everything to stop this war from breaking out, for the consequences would be... disastrous."
"Was it... because of what happened in Kirkwall that things are so bad now?" Bethany asked, her heart heavy.
"Kirkwall, Ferelden, and many other things," the Seeker replied. "The Divine seeks to reform the Circle, to grant more freedoms to the mages, something I'm sure you would approve of. But the templars resist any reform that would diminish their influence and authority. And on the other side, the Libertarians and the Resolutionists are stirring trouble, shouting that gradual change is not enough, calling for immediate and complete freedom and doing all they can to start a revolution."
"That is... horrible," Bethany sighed, feeling gutted. More lives will be lost all because I did not stop Anders when I could. "I wish that I could help in some way, do something to prevent this war."
"Then I suggest that you act according to Maker's wishes and submit to the nearest Circle, young woman," Cassandra admonished her. "What your kin needs most now are people like you, calm and reasonable, able to provide a voice of reason."
"Do you think it would truly help?" Bethany asked. "That a newcomer would be listened to, would be able to make a difference? Or would I be just another body to stick the templar swords in when some madman finally tips the scales over the balance?"
Cassandra fell silent, not saying anything, sadness and understanding briefly showing in her eyes. "Maybe there's another way," Bethany suggested timidly. "Maybe I can help you. You said you are doing all you can to stop this war from breaking out. Then let me work with you."
The Seeker shook her head resolutely. "I appreciate your willingness to aid the righteous cause, but for a Seeker to work together, or to employ an apostate, would be a crime in the eyes of the Maker. I cannot do as you ask."
"These are strange times, Seeker," Bethany said, pointing at the ancient amulet still in Cassandra's hands. "Some of what we believe to be the Maker's will might not actually be so. That is why I must find out truth." That, and to atone for my sins. And to restore my faith in the Maker.
"And you have... no personal motives in all this?" Cassandra asked suspiciously.
"I..." Bethany started hesitantly. "I... knew the apostate responsible for the destruction of Kirkwall. I did not know his horrible plans, but... I will always keep thinking that perhaps I could have done something to prevent it from happening." She faced Cassandra, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I wish to make up, somehow. Please, allow me to."
Cassandra swallowed heavily and rose from the chair, starting to pace back and forth. "I must admit... I can see how a mage could be very useful in my line of work," she spoke mostly to herself. "I could never employ you officially, of course, and we would need to keep our contact to minimum... if you would consent to be used as an agent for the Seekers, then I believe you could be of great help in the investigation I have been sent to conduct. Yes... I can definitely see opportunities, questionable as it is."
"So... I can join you?" Bethany asked, breath short from excitement.
"Yes, against my better judgment," Cassandra shook her head. "Now get ready, we have a long road ahead of us. We are leaving immediately."
"Where are we going?" Bethany asked, starting to gather the bare essentials needed for the road.
"To Nevarra City," Cassandra replied. "Troubles are stirring within their Circle. I believe you could be of great help in preventing yet another Kirkwall..."
The Spoiled Princess Inn, Lake Calenhad, Present Day
Hawke was right, all those months ago, Cauthrien thought, stripping off her armor and clothes in the sparse light of a single candle. I have become what I despised. And at some point, simply ignoring it, pushing it all down in the pit of the stomach, it no longer works. And then you have to face the truth... and the truth is that I have become Loghain.
She stood next to the hot bath, prepared by a frightened maid, before climbing inside and submerging in the scented water that was supposed to be calming. She did not lie when she said there was only obedience or death, Cauthrien thought back to her quarrel with the Queen. I would never be allowed to escape with my life, I know too many secrets. And my face is too well known even if I tried to flee. I would never get far.
Cauthrien had at first wondered why she had such strong objections to the Queen's actions. It wasn't like they hadn't done ruthless, almost downright sadistic and despicable acts before, all in the name of strengthening their rule of Ferelden. I think it's because I see her becoming something that she, us both, despised so strongly, Cauthrien decided. I admired her intellect, her strength, determination. I would have done anything for her. But that she would mirror the actions of our hated enemies so soon... it breaks my loyalty to her, it cheapens my... my feelings for her...
"Obedience or death," she repeated numbly, reaching out for a dagger, placed on a nearby footstool, bringing the sharp tip of the blade in contact with the skin of her left wrist. It prickled with promising release and she pushed to press it deeper into her flesh, to sever the artery and let the blood flow into the water... but her hand suddenly refused to obey her.
Blinking, breathing rapidly, she withdrew the dagger, trying to calm down. Don't be a fool, Cauthrien, it won't hurt a bit, she berated herself mentally. Don't start fearing death now, when you have never feared facing it before. She tried again, now forcing the dagger down with greater force, but for some reason her hand jerked aside at the last moment, deflecting the blade and it scraped against the side of the tub with screeching noise.
What the... that... that's not me! That was not me! she thought in panic, rising up from the bath, her whole body shaking. She lied... she lied, death was never even a choice for me! She would not let me escape that easily! I can't even kill myself to free myself from this madness!
"That's right," Cauthrien recognized the voice, coming from the doors. How long has she been standing there? she thought desperately. "Now, are you done being a dramatic fool, and can we go back to what is truly important?"
"Why are you doing this to me?" Cauthrien demanded, angrily. She could not remember the last time she had cried, perhaps as a little girl, before she had even met Loghain. But now she did feel like crying, cornered and outplayed.
"I wanted to see if I could bind you utterly to my cause without resorting to blood magic," Maythre shrugged casually. "You know that I have barely exerted any control over you for the last five years? Well, except for that little failsafe to keep you from killing yourself," she smiled thinly. "Whatever atrocities you have committed that you now agonize about, have been entirely of your own doing."
"It is watching you employ the methods of our enemies, that is the only atrocity that I find difficult to accept," Cauthrien snapped, even if some of her anger had dissipated. "You are becoming... someone I find hard to follow... a monster!"
"Fine, call me a monster," Maythre said quietly. "But look into your heart and tell me that you are not a monster yourself."
"Of course I am," Cauthrien retorted quickly. "I know that."
"Then stop fighting, and accept it," the Queen said harshly. "That is what you are, a monster. And there is only one person in the whole of Thedas, willing to accept you as you are. I will always stand by you and I will never judge you, Cauthrien, for I need you. Now... think, and then tell me again that you can no longer stand with me."
Cauthrien closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She is right, and I know it. If I cannot accept what I am, then my actions will haunt me to the end of my days. And if death cannot be my escape, then where else would I rather be than with her? I owe her everything, good and bad. She felt her frame starting to tremble with powerful emotions overcoming her. And she needs me! How could I ever think of betraying, abandoning her?
In one smooth motion, she threw herself at the Queen's feet, pressing her head against Maythre's knees. "Forgive me, please," she begged. "Forgive me, my Queen. I made a mistake in questioning you."
Cauthrien never looked up, and thus never saw Maythre's feral, victorious grin in the dim candlelight. She only sensed the Queen dropping down on her knees next to her, with disbelief feeling Maythre's small, warm hands embracing her naked shoulders. "You are forgiven, my dearest Cauthrien," the Queen spoke softly, her words the sweetest music to her ears, making Cauthrien realize that she wanted nothing else than to be here, to make this moment last for eternity. "But now, get dressed my foolish knight, and follow me for we have work to do," Maythre whispered in her ear. "There is much that we must still accomplish. Together..."
