Chapter 7: Light and Warmth
He had gotten lost.
It was not surprising of course. The snowstorm had seemed to come out of nowhere, blowing snow and wind making it almost impossible to see.
Bradley lost the mountain path, and ended up down in some valley nestled between the peaks. Sleet stung his face as he staggered through the blinding landscape, trying to remain close to the mountain side.
He had gone down into what he assumed to be a valley, but that did not mean that he was still not in danger.
The blowing snow could have hidden some small chasm, one wrong step and he might fall into it, breaking his neck.
And that would be the end of the man known as Reaper.
He gritted his teeth and pushed on. Since leaving Soldier's Peak he had been trying to catch up with the wardens. The weather would likely slow them down as well. He hoped to overtake them before they made it through the old path and into Orlais.
The storm had stopped his advance, he came to realize that he needed to find shelter; at least until the storm had passed enough that he could see where he was going.
He would not do the Inquisition or the Nightingale any good if he froze to death on this mountain.
He continued to hug the mountainside, hoping to find some cover against the weather. Finally, he caught a lucky break. He found a large cleft in the rock, a cleft that turned out to be a good sized cave.
Bradley drew his sword, and drew a small glow crystal from his pack, exposing it to the air made the stone glow with orange light.
He smiled at the object, one of the many wondrous devices crafted by the circle of magi, and a boon when a man could not get a fire going.
He gave the little device a sad look.
With the circles disbanded, such items were quickly becoming a luxury, as were many of the healing salves and enchanted devices that had aided the chantry so well in the past.
The Seeker shook his head.
Another reason for them to restore the Circle, a world without such items would quickly become a very harsh place. The Templars had never stopped to consider what would be lost when they drove the circles to rebel.
Bradley sighed heavily as he removed his pack.
What was done was done, he supposed.
It was too late to cry about it now.
The wind continued to wail like an abandoned child as the young warrior began to set up his small camp.
When the storm passed, he would do what he could to find his way back up to the mountain path taken by the Grey Wardens.
Perhaps then…he would be able to get some answers.
Perhaps then…he would be able to find out what was going on with the order.
IOI
He had left Haven fully outfitted for a long journey.
Sister Leliana had given him everything he had needed to find his way to Soldier's Peak, including a map to get him through the winding paths that protected the old warden fortress.
He arrived to find the place sacked. Bodies were everywhere, some half buried in the snow.
He had called out, hoping to locate any survivors to find out what happened.
Given the degree of destruction around him, however…
…he had not been holding his breath.
The bodies he found were not wardens; they carried no arms and wore no armor. The Nightingale had told him this place had been serving a center of trade for the Dryden merchant family.
Bradley shook his head.
It seemed that the Drydens were now out of business.
He had just been about to leave when a single survivor emerged from the keep. He was quite old, a bald, frail looking man in blue and silver robes.
Bradley had raised his weapons, his Templar senses all but screaming that this man was a mage…
…and a powerful one at that.
The old man leaned heavily on his staff as he shook his head at the carnage around him, mumbling under his breath.
It was then that he finally noticed the Seeker standing there.
The old man smiled.
"You might as well come in out of the cold," the man advised, "There is nothing more that you can do for the people here."
The old mage tottered up the steps, Bradley, still wary of him, followed at a safe distance.
If the old man took offense he did nothing to show it.
He simply stared at Seeker with red rimmed wizened eyes.
"I am called Avernus," he said, "Researcher, and Grey Warden."
He smiled at Bradley's reaction to that.
"I am called Reaper," he said, "Seeker of the Chantry."
The mage smirked at his titles.
"To what purpose do we owe the honor of this visit Seeker?" he asked.
"As you can see, the Lost Garrison is not really available to aid you right now."
"I'm here on behalf of the Inquisition,' Reaper informed him.
Avernus chuckled.
"So the Inquisition is back is it? How interesting."
Bradley pursed his lips; he did not really like what he was sensing from this old man.
Here was someone who was definitely more than what met the eye.
"Is your Commander among the dead? I would speak with him if he is not."
Avernus shook his head.
"Commander Oslin was not here when the attack began," Avernus said, "Had he been, things might have gone quite different. He took the men and marched off."
The old man sighed.
"I have no idea when he will return, or if…."
Bradley felt a pang of frustration.
It seemed that he would have to return to the Nightingale empty handed. He did not like that; he had never failed her before.
Of course, there was more than one way to succeed wasn't there?
He looked at the old mage.
"I don't suppose you could tell me where the wardens went?"
Avernus paused; he tilted his head slightly, as if deep in thought.
"Perhaps," he said, "But I should not betray my comrades' trust, how do I know that you did not put the wardens that attacked us to this."
That made Bradley's eyes widen.
Wardens had done this?!
"Your own people attacked you?"
"I suppose so," the mage answered.
"Why?"
Again Avernus chuckled.
"That is the only real question isn't it? Perhaps together we can find out an answer. It is the least I can do for the poor souls here."
The mage regarded him with his cool eyes.
He smiled slightly.
"You are not like other Templars I have encountered," he said, "There is…something different about you. I can sense it"
Bradley shuddered.
Something in the old man's gaze made him feel…uncomfortable.
"I am…unique," Bradley admitted.
"Indeed," Avernus said, "Perhaps we can reach an arrangement after all. What you need to know for something that I can use."
"Perhaps," Reaper said, "It depends at what you seek."
The old mage nodded.
"Perhaps," he murmured.
"Perhaps."
IOI
Avernus had been true to his word. He had given Bradley the route the wardens were planning on taking through the Frostback Mountains.
It was an old path, the mage had said, a path the wardens used when they did not wish to be observed crossing the border.
The mage had given him the location for a relatively cheap price, a single vial of the Seeker's blood. The old mage claimed to be researching new ways to aid his order against the Blight.
The Seeker saw little problem with his request. The wardens and the Chantry had never been enemies…
…If the old man's work could aid in defending the world against the Blight.
Why not?
The map that Avernus had provided him with was detailed quite well. Bradley had figured if he pushed his horse a little harder, he might just catch up to the wardens before they left Ferelden.
That had not happened.
His horse had been lost in the storm, along with his way, and most of his supplies.
What he had managed to salvage now sat before him in the tiny cave.
He made sure to explore the cave completely before making himself comfortable. He knew from experience that such places were seldom unoccupied. He found tracks suggesting that a bear had hibernated here once, but the markings were old, a year old at least. The cave also showed no sign of darkspawn, during one of his earlier missions; close to Qunari territory he had encountered a nest of the fiends.
He had learned to identify signs of their passing; no such signs were present here.
He took that as a good sign.
It seemed he had found as good a place as any to wait out the storm.
He had leaned back wrapped in his heavy fur cloak. The warm glow of the crystal on the ground before him quickly lulled him to sleep.
And as always…he dreamed.
He dreamed of flames, and of their cleansing embrace.
It was in that moment that he heard the voice of the guardian, his friend and mentor.
It is time, lad.
He shifted in his sleep.
It is time to face your past, and through that, your future.
Bradley awoke, the flames still filling his thoughts. He was not quite sleep walking but nor was he entirely awake.
There was a small break in the storm, and he went out into it, not really understanding why. All he knew was that he needed to be out there.
He made his way through the blowing snow and icy rocks. His eyes searching for something he did not entirely understand.
Yet, he needed to be out here, he knew that much.
The only question was why.
Bradley mustered his courage,
He would know what it was, when he saw it.
He made his way through the snow, guided by a beacon he could not understand…
…and there, half buried in the snow…he found it, or rather her.
Bradley leaned down, the blue and silver gambeson, the white griffon on the small breast plate identified the elf as a warden.
He frowned.
A warden that was dying, that would be dead in moments if he did not act.
He had not hesitated.
He knew what needed to be done, and so he did it.
The girl would live, thank the Maker.
Now…he would have his answers.
IOI
The storm was just starting to pick up again when he made his way back to the cave. The warm light of the glow crystal called to him, summoning back home.
He had only just managed to enter the cave when the storm began in earnest. Once again the world became a wall of blinding white.
He thanked the Maker for having escaped it.
He lay the warden down next to glow crystals, the orange light illuminating her pale features.
Bradley blinked at the sight.
The girl was an elf that much was clear. Same slender form, large almond shaped eyes, two pointed tapered ears poking through shoulder length black curly hair.
Her face made the Seeker pause.
Something…there was something about the girl's face…
Something…familiar?
He blinked and shook his head.
For a moment, he felt as if something had stirred within him, but as quick as it had come it was gone.
He felt a brief surge of frustration.
Would he never learn who he was?
Would the Maker never let him remember?
He tried to stand, but suddenly felt very woozy.
He sat back down, and shook his head.
The disorientation was not surprising.
He had called on the flames to save the warden's life.
Doing that, using that power…it always left him drained.
Only time and rest would restore his strength that was simply the way it was.
He took a deep breath, and tried to focus on regaining his strength.
It helped…sometimes.
Not ever Sister Leliana knew that he could call on the flames. It was a secret he kept from all. Had he not, it would have been just another motivator for the foolish to try and attempt and recreate the circumstances of his survival in the temple of sacred ashes.
He would not allow that.
There were too many foolish attempts at that as it was.
The flames could do much, he knew, he had seen it, he had called on that power himself.
This was only the third time he had used it. The first time had been on a fellow seeker, a friend; he had sacrificed himself against a powerful abomination. The second had been a Qunari elf, an assassin.
He smiled slightly.
Tallis had loved the sound of her own voice; it was funny that he had left her speechless. That an act of healing had showed her that there was more in the world than her precious Qun.
Now… he had used it to save this girl, this warden.
He sighed.
For the sake of his mission, he had had no choice.
The lay on the floor of the cave, shivering. He checked her for injury, the flames had healed her, but they had done nothing for her armor.
The snow had soaked it clean through.
Bradley's eyes narrowed, a rosy glow came to his cheeks.
There was only one thing he could do. The elf might sicken in her weakened state, or she might still freeze to death before the storm ended.
The Seeker swallowed, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat.
He needed to get her out of her wet armor.
He needed to get her warm and dry.
He took a shuddering breath.
Here goes nothing, he thought.
He worked quickly, first he removed the girl's weapons, and then he took off the light plates and gambeson.
He tried not to stare too much as more and more pale flesh was revealed.
He swallowed hard, and tried to look away, but at the same time carry out what he was trying to do.
He shook his head.
Oh Maker.
Seekers and Templars both were taught to behave like gentlemen, but still…undressing this warden, this very beautiful elven girl.
He blinked.
One would have to be blind to not be at least…a little aroused.
He sighed.
The girl had a nice body, more shapely than most elven women, full breasts, and strong hips. A brief inspection of her smalls showed that they were still mostly dry.
He coughed.
At least he would not have to strip her completely…completely…
Well…that way.
He picked up his heavy fur cloak, he had left it behind when he had gone back out into the storm, and laid it flat next to his…guest.
The elf murmured in her sleep, he thanked the Maker she had not woken while he had been…undressing her.
That might have been a bit…awkward.
He scooped her up into his arms; her breath was warm against his neck, her skin smooth to the touch of his callused fingers.
He lay her down on the cloak, quickly wrapping her within a cocoon of thick black fur.
The girl murmured softly, and pulled the fur tighter around her, snuggling within it, getting comfortable.
Bradley let out a breath he had not really realized he had been holding. A nervous giggle escaped his lips.
In the Nightingales name he had faced both demons and Maleficarum with barely blinking an eye, but this…this girl.
She had made him very, very uncomfortable.
He smiled slightly.
He might have been wrong, but he had thought he had seen a tattoo on her upper right thigh, what kind of mark might that be he wondered, he…
He shook his head, feeling like a drooling lecher…
…So much for behaving like a gentleman.
He was…attracted to elven women, he knew that from his travels, and given their natural grace and beauty it was easy for a human man to objectify one.
It would be most unwise to objectify this girl.
He gave her a sad look.
"This woman was no yielding maiden, no gentle flower. The weapons she carried were not simply for show. This was a woman who fought and killed darkspawn.
Only a fool would ignore that fact.
He sighed, and looked down at his hands.
He could still almost feel the warmth there, the glow of the flames that had cleansed him, made him strong.
He sighed.
After all this time, he still craved the flames embrace. Perhaps that was why that a small flicker of it remained with him, perhaps that was why it would still come when he called, he…
Bradley's eyes widened.
A horrible thought occurred to him.
What if the flames did to the girl what they did to him?
What if they took away all she knew about her fellows?
What if, in saving her life, he destroyed the very information that his Lady needed?
If that was so, he would feel extremely stupid, but at the same time…
…The same time.
He would do it all over again.
He had been given the power to save lives, not just take them.
He would be damned if he could not use it.
He pulled out another glow crystal and a third.
The cave was quickly bathed in orange light. Even as the sun dipped below the mountains, filling the valley with shadows and blowing snow.
The warmth seeped into his bones.
The Seeker yawned and stretched.
He looked down at the sleeping warden.
He knew from experience that the girl would likely sleep for two days, maybe three. In truth he did not know.
He had never brought back someone that close to death before.
Even if the storm broke tomorrow he would not be able to leave the girl here. If she had the information he needed, he needed to get her back to Haven, back to the Inquisition and the Nightingale.
He yawned again, spent from using his powers.
He had to get her back, but not yet…not yet.
He took off his chest plate leaving only a sweat stained shirt behind.
The elf shivered as an icy wind blew through the cave.
He lay down next to her, wrapping her in his arms.
She murmured but did not awaken.
She nuzzled against his chest, seeking the warmth of his body.
He smiled.
Speaking of warm, he was surprised how warm the little elf was, not feverish, just warm to the touch.
Don't get any ideas, his conscience chided.
He smiled slightly.
He wasn't, but still…he had to admit.
She was certainly a cute little bunny.
The warmth and exhaustion were finally too much.
The Seeker fell asleep.
Had he not he might have heard the elven girl speak, it likely would have made him realize that more was going on here than simply his mission.
"Bra-lee," she purred as she slipped into a deeper sleep.
Outside the storm raged, but for a moment, in a shadowed cave in the Frostbacks…
…There was peace.
