Author's Notes: Apparently holiday retail is doing wonders for my muse, because she has been running rampant for the past couple of days. I don't mind, I just wish I had the time to sit down and work with her as much as I really want to! Oh well, next week I have lots of days off and can take advantage of some rest so she and I can work together and create more of the story. Whoo!
Skyline: I've been a mess! But in a good way. Busy busy busy, and enjoying the fact that I can write again. Haha! Glad to see you're still readily reading, I always appreciate your thoughts, etc. :) How've you been?
ashez2ashes: He will, he will! But the joyful question is...when will it finally happen? Mwahaha. We shall see. *cough*Iamevil*cough*
Hope y'all enjoy this chapter as much as the previous! It's a little shorter, but you'll understand why when you see the end. It just made sense. :) Lemme know what you think!
Magic is an ability inherent to only a select group—an elite. The experiences of these so called elite can never be truly understood by the mundane, those who I have not so affectionately dubbed 'Normals'.
On that note, magic as it is understood now is the manipulation of the world and its energy that surrounds us.
But then I think: what magic lies within?
The strength and wonder that lies in our blood is an abundant, untapped source of raw energy. What is this substance that can power the bodies of millions of living beings?
I ponder this day in and day out. Each and every discovery I make about this power drives my studies further—I cannot get enough. The possibilities are endless.
Today, through a completely unintentional error I have stumbled upon an interesting phenomenon. It would seem that by sacrificing my own blood I am able to resist the exhaustion that comes through extended magical activity…
I discovered this thanks to a bleeding cut from an incident involving a stray shard of glass. After an arduous day of magical experimentation I dropped a phial that shattered upon my table and pierced my skin. I used magic to clean up the mess, but to my surprise, the blood that had dribbled down my forearm had disappeared, almost as if it had evaporated. On the same note, I did not feel the lull of exhaustion that comes from performing such magical tasks.
This is by no means factual evidence that I can supply my own lifeblood to prevent supernatural exhaustion, but it warrants repetition. Once I have reproduced the results I will have to find someone upon which to duplicate the experiment.
If possible, of course.
Thayer closed Avernus' journal, eyes narrowed and unfocused. He'd read the particular entry three, maybe four times over. It certainly pertained to what he had experienced, but how dangerous was it to experiment with one's blood like that? Sacrificing it in exchange for not feeling the exhaustion that came from using magic?
Perhaps that was why all the blood mages Thayer had run across always looked so pale, sullen and aged. They were giving up their very vitality as a means of powering their magic.
He didn't want to do that. That was far too complicated. He just wanted to find a cure for the Calling so he didn't have to worry about dying so young.
Doubt suddenly entered his head. What if blood magic didn't have the answer? What if he was wasting his time with this? So far nothing had helped. Maybe it was a lost cause that he needed to just drop.
No. No, he couldn't start thinking that way. The power that blood magic held was phenomenal—he'd seen it in action earlier tonight. There had to be an answer somewhere. He just needed to keep looking…
He glanced beside him and saw Alistair sleeping comfortably on his back with his arm hanging loosely over the side of the bed. He snored soundly.
Thayer supposed right now he really should have been sleeping. They had a long journey through Ferelden ahead of them and would need their rest. Try though he might, sleeping had proven near impossible. He was still brimming from what had happened earlier.
He wished he had someone to talk to about all of this…
For now he supposed all he could do was stew on it.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm his mind. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day and he needed to get some rest.
. . . . .
"What's wrong? You've barely eaten your breakfast."
"Huh?"
Thayer blinked a few times. Once again he had lost himself in thought.
Alistair gave him a strange look. "That's the third or fourth time I've had to bring you back to reality this morning. What's going on in that head of yours?"
Leliana said, "He's probably thinking of the large task ahead of him. He's got quite a few things to do, yes?"
"Where is our next stop, then?" Zevran asked.
"Highever, right?"
Thayer looked at Alistair, giving him a soft smile. "Yes, Highever."
Highever had been on Alistair's mind ever since Duncan had passed well over a year ago. He had been quite patient with his desire to create a memorial for the man he admired so, and in truth, the timing was right. They had all of the information they needed on rebuilding the Fereldan Grey Warden Order, and Highever was on the way to Amaranthine.
Alistair seemed tickled pink by the idea. A wide smile took over his handsome face, and his dark eyes lit up. It made Thayer grin.
"I haven't been to Highever in quite some time," Zevran said. He stroked his chin and hummed thoughtfully. "How long will we be there?"
"However long it takes to speak with Teryn Cousland." Thayer pushed his eggs around his plate, mixing them with his potatoes. "I doubt terribly long."
"Eager to get to Amaranthine?" Leliana asked.
When Thayer remained silent, Alistair nudged him. "Ah, was that what you were thinking about?"
"I suppose you could say that."
Thayer sniffed. In truth, he had been thinking about Amaranthine, but he'd also been thinking about going back to the Circle Tower to see Wynne. He knew the reason he wanted to speak with her was in order to get some guidance, but he also knew he couldn't tell her why he needed it. There would be no need to justify a visit to Wynne for his companions, but the mentoring mage would know something was on Thayer's mind. She always knew, somehow.
This was frustrating.
"So, are we leaving today, then?" Alistair asked. "Or did we have some business to finish up here?"
"We would probably do best to leave today." Leliana cleared her throat. "Val Royeaux holds nothing else for us."
"If Leliana says it's best, then I suppose we should go upstairs, pack up our bags and get ready to go."
Thayer returned to his room shortly thereafter with Alistair not too far behind. He barely had a chance to reach for his bag at the foot of his bed to start packing before he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He nearly yelped.
"All right, you, what's got you so preoccupied?"
Thayer pressed a hand over his heart, easing into Alistair's embrace. For the briefest of moments he thought of telling him what he'd experienced last night—telling him what he was trying to do, how he wanted to save them. Then he remembered how atrocious that would make things and he clammed up.
Damn.
"Ah, I get it." Alistair squeezed him and pressed his lips against Thayer's ear. "You're nervous about going to Amaranthine, aren't you?"
Just go with it.
The mage nodded. "You realize this falls all on us."
"Well, not entirely all on us. We'll have some help. I heard they've got a new captain of the guard up at Vigil's Keep. Relax." Alistair planted several kisses down Thayer's neck, sending chills down the mage's spine.
Distinctly uncomfortable with the spotlight being so firmly on him, Thayer asked, "So, you're excited about going to Highever. Does this mean you'll be leading the expedition to speak with Cousland?"
"What, and take the reigns from you? You're our fearless leader. I thought we cleared the air about me being the faithful sidekick."
"I just thought you might like to be the one to talk with him, since you knew Duncan better than I did."
"Better, true, but he was still an important figure in your life, too. He conscripted you, after all."
Thayer sighed. That was true, Duncan had been the one to introduce him into the life of a Grey Warden—had been the reason why Thayer now lived with a limited amount of time left. Without him, this equally blessed and cursed life would have never been possible.
"I wonder what Teryn Cousland will say."
"I doubt he'd turn us away. Duncan was a well-revered man. He deserves to be remembered."
"Then I suppose we should be getting ready to go, hm?"
Alistair planted several more kisses along Thayer's neck. The mage turned around in the other's embrace and looked at him, somewhat surprised to see a grin stretched out upon his face.
"Can't we stay just a few minutes longer? We'll be traveling for a long while and there won't be any privacy. I've gotten used to being alone with you whenever I want."
"And just what did you have planned that we need privacy for?" Thayer asked, an inquisitive brow rising.
Alistair simply smirked.
. . . . .
"There you two are. We thought you had gotten lost in your own room."
"Well, that's what she thought. I thought you two might be enjoying a few carnal pleasures. After all, the door was locked."
Thayer paused. Had Zevran really just said that?
"We were discussing Grey Warden business," he said, stammering.
The sheer bluntness of Zevran's statement had thrown him for a loop. He was unable to come up with anything better, and he worried they wouldn't believe him.
"We went through the ritual again," Alistair added quickly. He cleared his throat. "Needed to make sure we knew what we were doing before we put people through it. No sense in causing them bodily harm, all that. You know."
Neither Leliana nor Zevran proceeded further with the topic, but Thayer could have sworn he saw the elf give him an incredulous stare.
Why they hadn't told the others yet, he wasn't sure. Leliana and Zevran were not judgmental people—yet part of Thayer worried that perhaps they might think something strange of it. He knew things would be easier if they were aware of the relationship between the Wardens, but he hadn't moved forward with the idea, nor had he approached Alistair about it.
He looked at Alistair. The warrior was still flushed pink, chewing on his top lip and looking everywhere but at Leliana and Zevran. Sometimes he could be so painfully obvious.
"Well, we are ready to go," Leliana said, smiling. "We should go down by the docks and see when the next ferry is leaving for Amaranthine. They usually leave in the early morning or afternoon, so we have time, I imagine."
"How long is the trip?"
"It depends," Leliana said. "A week at the very least. More if the weather acts up." She smiled playfully. "I don't recall ever hearing about either of you being on a boat for long periods of time. Do you have your sea legs about you?"
"I doubt either have them have been on a boat long enough for it to matter," Zevran said with a chuckle.
"Oy, I will do just fine on a boat, thank you." Alistair frowned, his forehead creasing. "You two are always making fun of me."
"Only because you let it get to you," Thayer stated. He snorted. "Once you let it roll off your shoulders, it all becomes playful banter."
Zevran winked, sidling up close to Alistair. "I didn't know you were so sensitive, dear Alistair. I will remember your delicate sensibilities the next time I make a joke."
Alistair stepped back, making a face. "And remember to keep your distance, too, I hope."
"Come, come, you two, enough of that. We have a boat to catch." Leliana gestured toward the stairwell. "I must stay goodbye to Matthieu before we leave. I do not plan on returning for some time, and I will miss him dearly."
After saying their goodbyes to their grateful host the foursome traveled through the residential district and market toward the outskirts of the grand Orlesian city of Val Royeaux. The city's port was large, larger than any Thayer had ever seen before, though it paled in comparison to the breathtaking beauty that one found in the inner districts. Merchant ships, ferries, sailboats and more lined Val Royeaux's port, filling the boardwalk with lively conversation from their inhabitants. The port smelled strongly of fish—perhaps its only detracting quality in Thayer's opinion.
"Ah, there!"
Leliana hurried ahead of them toward the second dock down the line. There floated a somewhat large boat—almost the size of a ship. It was rectangular in shape, almost like a box, and dark brown in color, with a tan trim that ran around the rim of the boat. Several exhaust pipes lined its flat top, though none were bigger in size than Thayer himself. A man with weathered skin and coveralls stood beside it speaking with an elf furiously taking notes on a sheet of parchment paper.
Leliana approached him and gave a quick bow of her head. "Excuse me, sir, but your ferry is going to Amaranthine, correct? Are you preparing to leave?"
"Yes, yes, we are planning to leave very soon." His Orlesian accent was near indistinguishable from Leliana's. He looked at the elf. "We must make sure we do not let barnacles collect on the boat, they ruin the appeal!"
"How much to travel with you?"
The man continued to stare at his elf, all the while speaking at Leliana. "How far do you plan to travel?"
"To Highever."
"A trip to Highever takes a week, eight silver per person a day."
Leliana looked back at the group. The price was steeper than they had agreed upon spending, but it was a necessary evil to prevent them having to go all the way back from whence they'd come. To travel back around through southern Orlais and into Orzammar, then north to Highever would take far too long with all of the treacherous terrain.
"Are you coming or not?" The Orlesian asked. He snapped his fingers. "We must leave promptly—I have some time sensitive materials on the boat that must be delivered immediately."
"Yes, we're coming," Thayer called.
He followed after the man and the elf, feeling a bit rushed.
Upon entering the boat he stumbled forward slightly. It had been a while since he had stood on a boat, and it would take some getting used to. He couldn't imagine being on the boat for a week, but it was the best option. They had traveled through much worse conditions and had camped in nearly subzero temperatures. He was sure they could handle several days on a boat.
Or so he hoped, anyway.