Chapter 10
Deep inside the Korcari Wilds
"Cauthrien, you will remain here and wait for my return, but no more than seven days. If I have not returned by then... well, I have no instructions for what you should do in that case, for I will no longer care what happens to you or Ferelden. I will be gone and you will be free to do with your life as you please."
"This is madness, my Queen! Allow me to go with you, I beg you! You must not head into the Korcari Wilds all by yourself!"
"You will hear my orders and you will obey them, Cauthrien. This is a deeply personal matter for me. I cannot bring you with me, even if I wanted to."
"...very well, Your Majesty. But I want you to know this, if you are not back in seven days, I will head into the Korcari Wilds to look for you. And I will not leave until I find you, I will search for you until I fall dead from exhaustion, my Queen."
"It will not come to that, Cauthrien. I will see you soon."
That conversation had taken place two days ago. Since then, Maythre had been walking through the thick forests and treacherous swamps, following some kind of base instinct, allowing her feet to pick the path, somehow always certain where she needed to go. If there were any dangers in the Wilds, any stray, remaining darkspawn or Chasind tribes, she never came across them, it was almost as if the Wilds and their inhabitants themselves gave way before her, leading her towards the destination.
At the beginning of the third day of her travels, she came across the familiar looking place she had been searching for. The decrepit, old shack stood at the edge of a marsh, looking every bit as she had expected it, almost eight years since Flemeth's death.
The door opened with a loud creak as she dared to step inside the hovel, barely a ray of light coming through the dirty, mud-stained windows, the rooms sinking in twilight. The floors were covered with mud, dust and all kinds of filth, the belongings all neatly in the shelves and cupboards, covered with a thick layer of dust, nothing here touched for many years.
I'm not sensing anything... special, just by standing around, Maythre thought at herself. I wonder what it is that I was supposed to be doing here.
Finding nothing of importance inside the shack, Maythre decided to step back outside, opening the creaking door and... almost running face first into an imperious looking woman with elaborate hairstyle, her white hair looking almost like horns. Her feather adorned reddish-brown leather armor made her appear rather imposing, even if the smile on her lips could be at best described as sardonic.
"What took you so long?" the woman asked of Maythre, while the Queen was still contemplating the best way to kill the irreverent imbecile. "I have places to be, plans to make, I can't afford standing around here, waiting for you to finally arrive!" she added with a throaty laughter.
"That... laugh," Maythre took a few steps to the side, steering clear of the strange looking woman. Something about her looked disturbingly familiar. "No... that can't be!"
"Ah, don't be such a bore, child," the woman chided her. "Yes, it's me, Flemeth. Shame on you for not recognizing me immediately."
"You look... different from how I remember you," Maythre said warily, remembering that the meek old crone from many years ago possessed the power to shape-shift into the form of a High Dragon. "I killed you before, and I will kill you again if you threaten me!"
Flemeth laughed again, looking highly amused. "You were so eager to protect Morrigan from committing matricide, weren't you? And now you want to do it yourself for the second time? Aren't you just the precious child?"
"What... what are you talking about?" Maythre's voice was barely a whisper.
"I don't have time for this," Flemeth's expression changed to annoyance. "You are rumored to be highly intelligent, so I want you to act like it. You are my daughter. And you came here because I called you."
"This is madness, I did not come here because of you, I came because I... I... needed guidance..." suddenly Maythre was forced to hesitate, disturbed by the knowing expression on Flemeth's face. "But you can't be my mother! My mother was..."
"Feared by the Dalish, so much so that they called you 'demon-spawn'," Flemeth finished for her. "Yes, I know that, too. And now that this touching part of our reunion is done with, I propose we move on with what we both came here for."
Maythre sagged weakly against the side of the shack, her head spinning. "I don't want any guidance from you... witch!" she raised a weak protest. "I don't know what you have done to me, but I will break free and I will kill you!"
"You will do nothing of the sort. You will do exactly as I tell you, and if you do not... I will do to you what I eventually do to all my unruly daughters," Flemeth added threateningly, stepping closer. "You know what I mean, don't you?"
Maythre shook her head weakly in reply. "If you stop being of use to me, I will take your body for my own, child," Flemeth roughly grabbed her as she spoke, pressing Maythre's back against her chest, holding her firmly.
"I would cast away my old, broken frame for a beautiful, youthful body..." with disbelief, Maythre felt Flemeth's hand move across her body, cupping her breast and lightly squeezing it. "Oh, the joys and delights I would savor with a body like yours... perhaps, I should not even waste my time dealing with you? Perhaps I should simply claim this shell as my own and do all that is required myself?"
"No... no, I beg you, I will listen, I will do what you want, please... please, don't take my body," at this threat, the mighty Maythre was suddenly reduced to a gibbering, pleading wreck.
"That is much better," Flemeth chuckled disturbingly, her hand moving away from Maythre's breast, heading upwards to cup her chin. "Then listen to me, child, and listen well. This is what I want you to do."
"You know as well as I do that war is coming to Thedas. We will be given a unique opportunity to once and for all crush the Chantry and their templar puppets," Flemeth started with her instructions.
"You want me to go to war with Orlais?" Maythre managed weakly.
"Yes, but I want you to be clever about it, my child," Flemeth lectured patiently, still holding Maythre tightly grasped in a less than comfortable position. "The land will erupt in a civil war, power hungry lords and dukes squabbling and weakening each other. In the middle of it all, the templars and the mages are destined to come to blows. Use this chaos to your advantage before any side can gain the upper hand and rally the rest against you."
"Are you telling me to plan an invasion? Leading armies is not exactly my strong suit..." Maythre tried to argue.
"But you have one of the brightest generals on Thedas at your command," Flemeth said. "Between you two, I trust you will carry out my wishes. I thought I had given you enough motivation to succeed," the old witch said, her hand once again moving over Maythre's body disturbingly, making the young elf feeling sick to the point of vomiting.
"It would be particularly ironic if I were to take your body after you have gone through such lengths to secure your immortality," Flemeth chuckled, the threat alone enough to make Maythre sag weakly in her arms. "You have given me a wonderful gift, one that I will take sooner or later. For your own sake, you should pray that it is later."
"I will... find a way to break free, I promise..." Maythre managed, with dismay feeling tears of helplessness rolling down her cheeks.
"There, there, child. Many have tried to defy me, but none has succeed in a very long time. I suggest you simply do as I say," Flemeth said mockingly, bringing up her hand to wipe Maythre's cheeks dry again. "Before I leave you with your life, there are a few more things you will do for me. You will soon receive a visit from the Grey Wardens from Weisshaupt Fortress. Here's what you will do when they arrive..."
Knotwood Hills, Arling of Amaranthine
With a growing sense of unease, Riona stood at the edge of the rocky ravine, staring at the rickety wooden constructions with a stairway leading into the large cavern below. "So... these passages lead to the Deep Roads, huh?" she asked, turning back to Nathaniel and Velanna, both also looking thoughtfully into the grim pit.
"That they do," Nathaniel confirmed, not sounding entirely happy.
"Many happy memories of your first trip here?" Riona's attempt at a joke felt rather flat.
"Yes, especially the part about having to deal with a darkspawn broodmother," Nathaniel shuddered lightly as he spoke.
"A brood-a-what?" Riona blinked. "Either way, it doesn't sound nice."
"Have you ever spent time wondering where all those darkspawn come from?" Nathaniel asked, sounding deeply disturbed at the memory alone.
"I've tried not to. Thank you for the reminder," Riona grumbled. "I imagine you're going to tell me."
"Yes, I feel that you... deserve a warning. If we... ever happen to become separated down there or..." he stopped, hesitating, the sheer amount of horror in his voice frightening Riona. "Do not let them take you alive, by any cost. The broodmothers... they were once women, human, elves or dwarves, but after... giving birth to thousands of darkspawn, corrupted by the taint... they have become grotesque monsters beyond description."
Riona felt a shudder running through her, suddenly making her appear cold and freezing. "That does sound... worse than death," she admitted, before turning towards Nathaniel. "I want you to promise me that you will do everything you can to stop me from being taken alive. Even..."
"I promise," Nathaniel interrupted her hastily. "Just don't say those words, I don't want to hear them. I know what you mean, just don't say it."
"Alright," Riona nodded grimly, turning away from the edge of the ravine and throwing the backpack over her shoulder again. "Well, let's get to it then. Shame we don't have a Warden with us, Anders certainly was helpful to have around on our own Deep Roads expedition."
"I have undergone the Joining," Velanna, having kept quiet this far, suddenly spoke up, forcing Riona to turn towards her in surprise. "Those Wardens forced me to do so at the sword point. They would not have accepted my aid otherwise."
"Not that I can really blame them," Nathaniel inserted. "After all, you had displayed great enthusiasm in killing all humans in your sight just recently before that."
"Why aren't you wearing the Grey Warden garb in that case?" Riona asked. "Are you like Anders, hiding from them or something?"
"I'm not hiding from them. If they return to force me back into their service, I will kill them one after another," Velanna replied simply. "I want nothing to do with them or their fight against the darkspawn. My only concern is finding my sister."
"Right. And... do you feel any darkspawn around us right now?" Riona inquired as they had started their way down the rickety wooden stairs into the cave proper.
"No. There are most assuredly no darkspawn anywhere near us at the moment," Velanna said confidently.
"Almost difficult to believe considering our luck," Nathaniel managed a chuckle. "We have been walking the whole day already, I think that once we reach Kal'Hirol-"
"Kal'Hirol?" Riona interrupted him. "That sounds dwarven."
"Yes. An ancient dwarven thaig right below us," Nathaniel explained. "We cleared it from darkspawn all those many years ago, and Velanna's senses seem to imply that they have not returned. If that is so, it would provide for a safe place to rest before advancing further into the Deep Roads."
"Agreed, rest sounds good," Riona nodded. "Especially darkspawn uninterrupted rest."
Circle of Magi, Nevarra City
Two days after her delivery to the Nevarran Circle, Bethany stood at the window in her cell, staring at the courtyard outside. Compared to the cramped accommodations in the Gallows, it seemed like travesty to call this room a cell, it was at least twice if not three times larger and well furnished with all basic amenities. Another surprise was the wide window, and the lack of bars in front of it. The fact that she was on the fourth floor of the old fortress, at least twelve yards above the ground, facing the inner courtyard made certain that bars were not needed, but that hadn't stopped the bastards at the Gallows to literally nailing all windows shut.
And then there was the courtyard itself, almost like a small park with a tiny brook running through it, winding gravel pathways stretching around it, surrounded by copses of evergreens. As far as Bethany understood, she was free to go outside for walks during any time of day, it was only after ten o'clock in the evening that all mages were required to be inside, in their quarters or in the library and some other public rooms. After the Gallows, this seemed... almost like a dream. If all Circles were like this, maybe the protests wouldn't be ringing so loudly, she thought, even as she knew she was wrong, for this was still not the true freedom that her kin were fighting for.
Bethany and Cassandra had been considering at length to which fraternity she should seek to align herself to. If the murderer came from the ranks of the Libertarians, it would have made sense to join their ranks, but Bethany was unsure how convincingly she would be able to pass off as a Libertarian. Give me liberty or give me death! Grrrrr! she had practiced for a while with a grin on her lips, eventually deciding on the riskier path to pass herself as an Aequitarian. She was well aware that she was making herself a potential target with this choice, but still, Bethany was also reasonably assured that she would manage to pass as someone too insignificant to be noticed by the mysterious killer.
In these two days, she had managed to make a few acquaintances amongst the younger and lowly ranking Aequitarians, in particular two girls fresh out of their Harrowing, happy to tell her about everyone in the Circle, introducing her to the latest gossip and intrigue amongst the mages and templars.
The First Enchanter of the Nevarran Circle was a surprisingly young looking elven mage by the name of Torisandrus, not affiliated with any of the fraternities. He eventually stopped by Bethany's quarters to briefly welcome her into the Circle, and Bethany had become rather taken with his handsome appearance, large, expressive dark brown eyes, the pronounced hawk-like nose and waist-long dark hair, pulled together in several thick braids. The man was certainly not lacking in charisma, Bethany finding his soft baritone difficult to resist, wanting to hear more and more of his voice, but alas, the elf had excused himself soon after, claiming to be extremely busy with his duties as the First Enchanter.
After the murder of two Aequitarian Senior Enchanters, only three other mages in this high position remained. Two of them were Libertarians, an elf and a human both of middle age, the two men never leaving each other's side, lending fertile soil to rumors about the nature of their relationship. Bethany had only seen them briefly, not able to make much of an impression, and from those brief looks neither Kiellin nor Freyd appeared the outright crazy Libertarian seditionist or murderer type, making Bethany feel a tad disappointed.
The last of the Senior Enchanters was from the smallest of the fraternities, a Loyalist representative, old woman in her early eighties by the name of Washa. With her graying hair, trembling hands and fragile frame, Bethany immediately discounted her from the list of suspects, even if her fanatical devotion to the Chantry would have made her the perfect candidate to kill someone purely out of her zealous principles.
Bethany's new friends were looking around more cautiously while sharing their gossip about the templars, claiming that in light of the recent murders, the situation in the Circle was growing more and more tense. It still feels more relaxed than the Gallows on a good day, Bethany thought, listening how the two girls proceeded to describe Knight-Commander Leonidas, a harsh Antivan-born man with strong convictions, but still possessing modicum of common sense and allowing the mages just enough room to breathe, even as he faced opponents in his own ranks, demanding him to push the mages harder and harder.
After the murder of one of Leonidas' right hands, only two Knight-Lieutenants remained active on duty. One of them was a mountain of a man, known to mages only by his nickname of Hammer, because of the wicked weapon he was always carrying on his back. With his unruly black beard, always some scraps of his latest meal stuck in it, and narrow, cold eyes, Bethany developed instant dislike for the man, and it seemed that even Knight-Commander Leonidas was cautious with this templar, his disdain for mages apparent in every gesture he made.
The other surviving Knight-Lieutenant was an attractive pale-faced woman with long red hair, an eye-patch covering her left eye, and Bethany's helpful guides knew to explain that it was not hiding a scar of an old injury but rather some sort of defect suffered at birth. The woman's name was Savina, and she appeared cold and aloof, carrying out all her orders without a comment or question, in fact only a handful of people had ever heard her utter a single word, leading many to believe that she suffered from muteness.
There was also a small Chantry within the Circle, tended to by two Mothers, welcoming mages and templars onto this neutral ground blessed by the Maker, whether with the intent of a prayer or to discuss difficult topics without having to worry about betrayal in this Maker's sanctum. One of the Mothers was a Fereldan, Avris by the name, and Bethany immediately sought to capitalize on that fact, but it quickly became clear that Avris was not interested to use this as a source for bonding, the woman somehow reminding Bethany of a harsher and colder Aveline.
The other Chantry Mother, Hannah, was a young blue-eyed blonde, only a few years Bethany's elder, stepping to her side immediately after Bethany had been brushed aside by Avris, offering her apologies. They had talked at length after that, Bethany quickly developing a degree of affection for the young Mother.
But even as Bethany had learned a little more about the most prominent persons within the walls of the fortress that housed the Circle, she still was not sure where to lay her suspicions. Certainly, both the Knight-Lieutenants appeared good candidates for prime suspects, but Bethany had long since learned not to trust her first impressions.
I need more information, a lot more information, before I can even begin to comprehend what's going on here. Let's just hope that Cassandra has something for me, she thought, looking at the small piece of paper in her hand, unfolding it to read it again.
"Meet me two hours after midnight in the small alcove past the library on the third floor. I have something for you.
C.P."