10. Letters of a Hollow Future

9:31 Dragon

Asher stared at Templar Revitt without uttering a word, mouth agape as she attempted to process his statement. The piece of folded parchment in his hand was extended in her direction as he waited for her to take it from his hand. There's a letter for you.

She hesitated to take the note, noticing the seal was yet to be broken. Upon normal protocol, any letters that were sent to a Circle mage had to first be read and approved for viewing by the Knight Commander. Both Holland and Leliana had written to her as her superiors prematurely read their letters before they ever reached her. There had to be something unique to this specific note. She was not the only one to recognize that something was amiss.

"Greagoir says it's important that you read it first." Revitt frowned, nudging the envelope again. "The King's royal mark is stamped on the front."

Tilting forward, Asher reached out with a shaken hand to grab the letter from him. Sure enough, the stamped seal belonged to the Crown as it etched within the deep burgundy wax. She glanced up to Revitt who was staring with intent, eager to know what was written inside. Asher bit her lower lip. "Thank you, Ser Revitt. I must get back to my studies now."

"You're not going to read it?" There was disappointment mixed with frustration in his voice.

"I will," Asher retorted abruptly, "In privacy. Thank you again."

She twisted from him quicker than he could invent a comeback. If the Templars were dismissive of her before, now most of them scrutinized her every move. The talk of the Tower was her so-called betrayal that had sent a fellow Templar back to the Chantry for repentance, as they called it. No one dared to ask what actually transpired, including the mages who scurried like rats at her sight. Overnight she had gained a reputation that brought Asher to the forefront of the Mage and Templar conflicts among Kinloch Hold. Some whispered she had been signaled out by the Hero of Ferelden to lead a revolution. Those rumors were ridiculously absurd. Others gossiped that she was a powerful maleficar that bewitched an innocent Templar into corruption. Those rumors were horrifying.

As Asher made her way to the quarters, her heart raced a million beats. News of Holland's feat at the Battle of Denerim spread across Thedas like wildfire. The Grey Wardens had slain the Archdemon at Fort Drakor, ending the Fifth Blight and drawing away the remaining Darkspawn into the Deep Roads. Holland went on to become the Warden-Commander at Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine to continue serving the cause. Morrigan, the Witch of the Wilds, had once again disappeared from sight after the war, as the tale went. The not-so Lay Sister Leliana answered the call for the newly elected Divine who was in the process of appointing her as the Left. And Alistair... well, much to the surprise of royal families across Ferelden, was proven to be the descendant of the late King Maric and brother to the passed King Cailan. Upon imprisoning the widowed Queen Anora, he ascended to power as the sole ruler of the nation. There was drastic change in the air as everyone, including the Circle Mages and Templars, speculated possibilities to no end.

Clutching the letter in her fist, Asher turned the corner to walk down the stairs. Victory and peace that the Grey Wardens bestowed upon Thedas was predicted to thrive for generations as families reunited to start their lives anew. Villages once lost to the Darkspawn horde were being rebuilt and cities started to thrive from the influx of foreign attention within their markets. Everyone was eagerly settling into this new era, waiting to see what the Crown would achieve next. The partnership between the King and the Warden-Commander brought popularity to Ferelden beyond the border as even Orlais began fabricating legends in song that would occasionally sneak their way into the Tower walls.

Asher pressed open the door to slip inside her room, away from the unwanted attention as she sat at her bedside. Most of her roommates were still in the libraries, which prompted the perfect opportunity for her to read the letter in private. She leaned over to ignite the wick of a candle for a dim light to illuminate her corner. Her fingers dug under the fold of the envelope, prodding open the paper as it neatly detached from the seal. The first word read made her frown as her shoulders relaxed into her slouched posture.

My Darling,

I must admit that this was the last outcome any of us could have predicted. You have probably already heard the news - the appointed King of Ferelden is secretly a connoisseur of fine cheese and more so, equally delectable women. I kid, of course. Thought it might make you laugh a little.

She smiled to herself.

Have you been imagining your life beyond the Tower? I wish I could see what you dream of. I wonder what you desire the most in this world and with whom to share it. Before, I had a certain future envisioned for you. Picture a shabby tent. It does not appear much but your entire life now rests in the confines of this small space. Though not as comfortable as the bed within your Tower, you have acquired something more valuable than anything the Circle could offer.

Asher adjusted in her spot, leaning against the bed frame.

Wake up one crisp, early morning to the sound of passing gulls. Part the fabric as the sun's rays creep onto your lap. The darkened twilight sky greets the vast blue sea, placing a kiss upon the distant horizon. Can you see it now? The limitless boundaries before you permit your world to extend beyond the barriers of your Tower. Like a breeze, this feeling is fleeting yet encompassing all at once. The freedom to will your possibilities. Like a breath caught in your throat, knowing you must allow it leave or else risk suffocation.

The distant noise disrupted her reading. Asher flinched slightly, keeping her eyes to the door to check for visitors. When enough time passed and the sound died in the distance, she allowed herself to return to the text.

I long to see that sunrise with you. How does you skin feel against my lips as I explore your back? You are exposed for me, enthralled with the sight before you while I slip my fingers around to the front of your hips. Your back falls onto my chest with a sigh. The arch of your breasts is welcoming the sun's warmth, heating at its attention. Or is it mine? Perhaps the one responsible for your pleas is the same perpetrator capable of making you whisper phrases that would redden any Chantry Sister into frenzy. I can hear those words now - the names you mercilessly seduce me with.

Asher shook her head, smirking slightly at the thought.

My world would have been yours. Before the blade could be drawn from the Archdemon's skull, I would have plucked your from that Tower in the middle of the night. We would have travelled north. My mentor once mentioned to me of the blurred line between the Chantry and magic in Rivain. No one would hunt you there. Not while I breathe. I would have built a home for you, tucked away from prying eyes, to spend the rest of eternity at your content.

She paused, her heart sinking to her stomach. Even with her reasoning, Asher could not help but imagine such a life that never came to fruition.

But as it stands, all I can provide are these hollow promises to keep you company in the evening. I still remember the bittersweet taste of your words, "I have dedicated my entire life to the Circle." Why? – I wondered initially – You do not owe anything to a world that has cruelly mistreated you for a gift you never asked. It wasn't until I was faced with a similar situation that I came to appreciate your wisdom.

Ferelden just survived a Blight and our nation is without a leader. The people may still mourn for their former King but politics will continue at no pause. I used to despise my heritage… I still do at times… born a bastard to parents that neither took me as their own. The Arl of Redcliffe was the only person back then who saw any potential in me. When the time came, I nearly threw myself to the Grey Wardens just to get away from it all. I answered the call once when the Darkspawn threatened our home. Perhaps, it is time to do so again. No matter how much anger I held for my parents, my country still raised me.

While the Chantry has condemned you for being a mage, you still care for the Circle that took you in. Like you, I will not turn my back from those that need my help. Instead of wallowing in my emotions, I am presented the opportunity to make change. I would be an idiot to pass it. However, I feel regret for getting your hopes up, but I imagine even if I did miraculously manage to show up at your door, you would turn me away before I could say "hello". I can make but one promise now and I will do everything in my power to see it through.

Asher tensed.

Succeed your superiors. I will require someone on my side when I begin negotiations with the Chantry over the future of our Circle. I vow to foster a better life for the mages in Ferelden and I cannot do that without you. If I fail, I grant you permission to send that Templar of yours to skin me alive. This will be the last promise I make to you.

Yours,
Alistair Theirin

Asher scrolled to the bottom of the page to catch an additional note.

Also, if the Knight-Commander is reading this, disregard everything above. I love Templars, I swear it… mages should be suppressed… corruption is bad… and so forth. My handwriting is not nearly beautiful enough to write this letter so I will deny everything. Kisses.

She folded the letter back into the envelope. Asher sat in silence for a moment, allowing his words to fully sink in. Even if his earlier promises were too childish to consider, Asher no longer felt alone. There was someone out there, no matter how far from her reach, who was just as dedicated to a cause as she was. She did not care how futile her efforts might be now, not when Alistair was working to achieve the impossible as well. He was not the only one either. Leliana wrote often, sharing her progressive view of mages. How her letters were ever approved to reach Asher was beyond her. Yet, the world continued to reshape itself in the aftermath of the Blight.

A soft knock to her quarters stirred Asher from her musings. She scurried off the bed, hiding the envelope under her pillow, as the door nudged open. Her heart eased at the sight of a familiar face.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" Dagna shuffled inside, expression beaming with excitement. "Word in the hall is that you received a letter that was not inspected by the Knight-Commander!"

Asher sat back down on her bed, motioning for her to join on the mattress. "And you just had to confirm the rumor, I presume?"

"Naturally!" She hopped beside her. "Now spill all of your secrets!"

"You haven't even asked whether the letter is real." Asher laughed.

"I don't have to. Not with the way you're cooped in here. It's pudding night at the dinning hall, after all!"

Asher reached for the pillow to pull out the letter. She paused before Dagna could snatch it. "No sharing. Promise you won't start babbling about it to the rest of the Tower."

"I swear on my life!"

"You swore on your life the last time and now everyone is under the impression that Holland is about to go to war with the Chantry, remember?"

Dagna pouted, shrugging her shoulders. "And I said I was sorry! You know how I am when it comes to the Grey Warden. I'm incredibly thankful that he convinced my parents and the Circle to have me study here. I figured it wouldn't hurt to make him a little more popular around here…"

"I know. I'm just giving a hard time." Asher smirked, picturing Holland's dumbfounded reaction if he heard that proclamation. "But seriously. Not a peep."

"Yes, ma'am!" She snagged the letter, leaning against her side.

Asher stared at the opposite wall as Dagna feasted over the parchment. The warmth of her shoulder felt comforting. With Jowan gone and now Cullen sent to Greenfell, she spent most of her days without company, sometimes going on days without uttering a word. When Dagna arrived from Orzammar, she was a breath of fresh air that brought color back into her life. Dagna did not care who Asher was. She never criticized her. Never relied on the rumor mill to shape her views. Their shared craze for studies brought the two together one night as they poured over their text in the library. Dagna spoke first, no hesitation in her voice, as she approached Asher.

"Great ancestors!" She gasped, whirling her head up to Asher. "You could become Queen!"

"What?"

"He all but declared his love for you!" Dagna jumped in her spot. "The King is in love with you! I'm not sure I should keep reading this steamy stuff."

"Keep reading, you airhead." Asher sighed heavy. "Not like that'll stop you."

"You're right." She grinned before returning to the letter.

Perhaps it was a mistake to let her read it. Asher closed her eyes, imagining what new gossip will surface from this. Not that any of it mattered anymore. Asher could care less what the hushed whispers spread across Kinloch Hold. Everyone who knew better simply had to ask. Unfortunately, that list of people was quickly diminishing as the months progressed. The First Enchanter was too busy with the recent changes, locked in his office most of the day under piles of paperwork. He did not have the luxury to follow the rumor mill. Wynne, though returned safely from Ostagar, was attending to the apprentices since their shortage of Enchanters. She kept reminding Asher how they would start her Spirit Healing training after everything settled down. Dagna was partially responsible for these wild tales.

The only person left to care was the Knight-Commander who had distanced himself as of late. He refused to speak to her after the breakdown, much less look her way. Ser Greagoir avoided Asher in the halls and sent other Templars to deliver messages. She feared he was angry.

"So, I have a question." Her voice interrupted Asher's thought process as she flinched back to attention. "Who is this 'Templar of yours' that King Alistair is referencing?"

Asher felt a lump form at the base of her throat. She fidgeted slightly, unsure how to form her sentences as Dagna patiently waited for an answer. "He's... someone who worked here before you arrived."

Dagna frowned, obviously aware that there was more to it. "And..?"

"You've heard about the Templar that Ser Greagoir sent to Greenfell to 'level out', right?" She mumbled under her nose. "His name is Cullen Rutherford. He was a friend that was severely affected by the events that transpired after Uldred corrupted the Circle."

"And..?" Dagna prolonged the vowel.

Asher sighed with a roll of her eyes. There was no possibility of avoiding this one. "And we were in love."

"Were?" Dagna jumped in her spot. "What happened?"

"I would prefer not to speak of it." Asher looked to the ground as sadness lurked around the corner.

Dagna reached out to place her hand at Asher's, squeezing tightly. It was such a simple gesture yet she knew how to comfort Asher without saying a single word. "Does he still love you?"

"I'm afraid so." Her voice broke to a whisper.

"But you don't love him?"

She paused, contemplating on her reply. "I don't know anymore."

Dagna leaned closer as her second hand sneaked around to give a gentle hug. "Are you in love with the King?"

Asher turned to face her with a smile. "No."

"Really?" She perked. "Not even a little?"

"Not even a little." Asher chuckled.

"Is it because of this Templar?"

"You ask too many questions, friend." Asher brushed her aside, rising to her feet.

"And you clearly still love him." Dagna pointed out. "He must be quite the fellow if he could get you to stop focusing on your texts."

"He is." Asher felt like a dazed schoolgirl that was describing a crush to her best friend, her embarrassment evident. "Cullen serves the Order with the same strong will as we have for the Circle. If you met him, I'm sure you would have gotten along. He can be a bit hard headed at times and stern with his approach, but he is fair in his treatment with everyone."

"How did he treat you?"

The question was unexpected as it threw Asher for a loop. She searched her brain for a proper answer. "Kindly... with affection. He was assigned to my Harrowing the night I tested. We... grew close afterwards."

"So it was love at first Harrowing?" Dagna grinned wide at Asher's blushing cheeks. "How romantic! A forbidden relationship between a Templar and his Mage. Two worlds apart, colliding to cultivate a passionate romance."

Asher threw her a face. "You are impossible. We only confessed to one another, nothing more. There was no time for relationships when the Tower was crumbling. Afterwards, we both too focused on rebuilding the place rather than act on our feelings."

"Do you wish you did act on it?"

"No," She responded simply. "This is for the best. We could not bring ourselves to be selfish when our superiors called us. It's probably good that nothing came out of it."

"Now you're the one being impossible." Dagna placed her hands at her hips.

"I do my best." Asher grinned. Glancing to the door, she heard her stomach emit a low growl. "I'm starting to get hungry. Do you want to go upstairs to salvage some of that pudding?"

Dagna slid off the mattress, patting herself to straighten the fabric. "Sure!"

She placed the envelope back under Asher's pillow. The two headed for the hallway promptly as Dagna began her explaining her recent findings with lyrium vapor. Asher listened carefully, trying to keep up with her enthusiasm. She was nowhere near being an expert on the subject but Asher did her best to understand. Dagna was quickly acquiring knowledge, crafting her own experiments, and deducting new discoveries. At times Asher grew jealous of how rapidly her friend was accelerating in comparison to the theory she was still subjected under. To her surprise, Dagna had noticed the nervousness she felt. Every once in a while she would remind Asher of all of her accomplishments, including the practical information she picked up while assisting Wynne in the aftermath of the Broken Circle.

Most fresh mages would probably get in her way, as Dagna remarked, you were able to keep up with Wynne – you should give yourself more credit! Asher appreciated Dagna's consideration for others; despite how poorly many treated her. She wondered whether that affected Dagna at all and why she continued to address everyone with kindness while they ridiculed behind her back.

As they walked up the steps to the following floor, Asher spotted the Knight-Commander who stopped at the landing. Her grip tightened around the railing. He glanced down to spot them. His chest rose as he gathered breath, stiffening in his spot as well. He spoke up loud enough for his voice to echo within the stairwell chamber.

"Asher. I was just about to come get you."

She felt lightheaded suddenly. "Oh..? Is there something the matter, Knight-Commander?"

Dagna halted as well by now, glancing between the two of them.

"Yes." He announced. "I mean, no. The First and Senior Enchanters request you for a meeting. I was asked to escort you to the Harrowing Chamber."

"I… see." Asher hesitated. "May I ask what the meeting is about?"

"No." He replied. "That is, I am not allowed to disclose the information until you are presented before the Enchanters. They will be the ones to provide more detail."

Asher turned to Dagna who shrugged back with a nod. A sinking thought pecked at her mind. What if the Enchanters decided to believe the rumors?

Letters are cute :) Hopefully this will be a nice break from all the angst as of late before we dive back in for more...