Chapter 21 – Choices

Another hour passed slowly in the shadowy cavern of the black heart tree, its pulsing rocky lit veins covering the area in an eerie reddish orange beating glow. True to his request, the others had made sure Sindel remained resting, but awake, as the hour passed. And true to his word, Sindel gathered enough strength to stand and walk over to the fallen Ozwulf and review his wounds and dressing. Sindel was pleased that the dwarf continued to look as well as he could with the wound he had sustained. The elf complimented Dellya and Sayeth both on the fine job they had done dressing the tight bandages about the dwarf's wounded chest, while keeping it clean. The small remnants of magic Sindel had exhausted before his own collapse had mended the dwarf's insides enough to stop the bleeding and mend up the gaping hole that was his chest. The rest of the past two hours had been left to the diligence of the two young women and sturdy constitution of the dwarven adventurer. The girls had to cut pieces of Ozwulf's leather breastplate off to bind and tend to the large wound. It was of little matter, as the leather torso piece was ruined as it was.

Sindel cleaned the bloody wound once more and re-dressed the bandages with fresh ones. They were amongst the last he had packed. Sindel felt his own magical energies sparking within him once again, the first time since the end of the battle, an knew it would not be long before a small bit of magic would be available for him to utilize as he saw fit. With that, to continue passing the time, the elf walked over and stood beneath the large crystalline tree like thing in the center of the cavern. He looked up and stared at the large black rocky heart above him. He was close enough to the stone heart to breath upon it. Acanthus noticed the activity and joined Sindel near the strange thing.

"It is something from a twisted demon's nightmare, no," Acanthus asked, looking up at the ebbing veins along the rocks shadowy surface.

"Indeed," Sindel agreed.

"What is it," Sayeth asked, joining the others under the heart?

"I have my guesses," Sindel pondered, eyeing one of the long black needle-like tree appendages growing from the rocky heart.

"It is living magic," Sindel offered.

"It's alive," Sayeth asked?

"Yes, I believe so, in a fashion," Sindel answered.

"I have heard tales from Dhalish clans, speakers and the like, of old Dhalish magic's, from the old spirits of the world. Enchanted acorns that fell from the old trees of the dream woods, enchanted by Dhalish spirits from long ago. Acorns that could be planted and grown with magic and when the acorn sprouted life, it grew forth an enchanted buck made of wood that could defend Dhalish people from evil."

Acanthus' eyes went wide at the thought of a massive buck made of wood and magic bouncing around glens impaling brigands and wild savage men.

"Then you believe this to be of Dhalish origin," Sayeth asked?

"Perhaps, but I do not believe so," Sindel replied.

"Dhalish were not the only ones to breathe magic to the inanimate and offer it mock life. If Ozwulf were up and about, he could tell you the tales from his childhood, warriors of living stone, massive guardians the dwarves created to battle the darkspawn and other foul things in the Deep Roads."

"Golems," Sayeth whispered, imaging the stone constructed titans littered with lyrium fused arcane runes upon their rocky hides.

"Indeed," Sindel nodded.

"But, I think this black thing is neither Dhalish nor Dwarven in its origin. Both races boast the knowledge, but this thing has a more distinct signature upon its crafting."

"What do you mean," Acanthus asked?

"As Ser Terragar himself said upon our meeting . . ," Sindel began.

Acanthus spat heavily onto the ground beneath him, his hatred at just the mention of the undead knight caused his face to boil with anger and rage.

"Uhm . . . yes," Sindel agreed, "As I was saying, this thing is fueled and crafted by blood."

"Blood magic," Acanthus whispered, his face still shades of angry red.

"Yes, demon craft with blood as its source," Sindel agreed.

"I am guessing it was brought here, in a much smaller form, a seed itself perhaps, by our mysterious and sinister Lord Darkmoor sometime during his life. It would have been grown through sacrifice and blood over years I would think. But it was definitely around before him, I can assure you that. A demon knew of this, it whispered of its whereabouts and its purpose to Lord Darkmoor, goading him to seek it, to grow it for his own whims."

"And its purpose," Acanthus asked?

"It speaks to the Fade," Sayeth guessed before Sindel could answer?

Sindel's eyebrow arched up as he looked down at Sayeth. The curious thin girl was touching the smoky crystal trunk of the thing, caressing it softly as she whispered her guess.

"Be wary girl," Acanthus warned, knocking Sayeth's hands from the surface of the crystal thing.

Sayeth jerked her hand back in response and stared at Sindel, awaiting his answer.

"I think she is fine Acanthus, it is not poisonous and I do not think it will animate to life, trying to eat us," Sindel offered.

"And I believe you are right Sayeth, it speaks and channels spiritual energies to and from the Fade. How and why, I am uncertain. And since it is energized with blood and possibly blood magic for all we know, I am sure its purpose was unsavory to say the least."

"It shall require more thought . . . that is for sure . . . and perhaps some testing, before we can proceed."

"Proceed," Dellya moaned from her perch near Ozwulf's wrapped up form?

"Are ye daft elf?"

"Ozwulf clings to life, ye are spent beyond spending, Acanthus sways and swoons from the rock sized knot swollen upon his head, and a dozen or so dangers nearly kill us in this place already. And ye want to . . . proceed . . . proceed to what? Proceed to be dabbling with a demon's blood tree . . . to what end crazy Dhalish?"

"Well . . . the Eyes of the Maker of course," Sindel answered, no longer caring for secrecy on the topic.

Sayeth's watched Sindel closely, her eyes watching each bit of body language from the elf while her ears honed in on every new revelation the elf shared.

Dellya threw up her hands in disgust, a frustrated rage building across her worn face.

"How does this heart thing . . . help us find these . . . Eyes," Sayeth whispered to Sindel?

"Now that is the question, isn't it my girl," Sindel insisted, although it was presented to Dellya as more of a riddle than an answer.

Sayeth inched closer to the nearest thorny protrusion that was sticking out of the pulsing stony heart. Her eyes had left Sindel and his puzzling revelations that seemed to be frustrating Dellya more and more. She instead, turned her attention to the fascinating prickly object in front of her.

"Sayeth . . ," Sindel cautioned, seeing the quick shift from the girl out of the corner of his eye.

The pale orphaned girl with the dragon tattoo circling down her arm in green and glorious gold ignored the warning and stalked closer to the spikey appendage. Curiosity filled her face. She moved as if called by a siren's song that only she could hear. She was now so close to the long black prickly thorn that she could taste it with her tongue if she dared.

"Sayeth . . . stop," Sindel commanded.

Sayeth reached upward, wondering what would happen if she touched the urchin like thorn. She inched her boney index finger out until it made the slightest bit of contact with the long black spike. The tip of her finger was lanced and a small droplet of crimson blood stained the tip of her finger where the spike and her fingertip met.

The entire cavern ignited and pulsed with a bright red beating glow. Every carved vein along the stony surface of the black heart erupted in living red color as it began beating to a silent drum beat every second or two that no one could hear. The pulsing picked up speed, pump-pump, pump-pump, pump-pump, accelerating in pace and with each beat, a brighter intensity.

~ PUMP PUMP ~

~ PUMP PUMP PUMP ~

As the beating climaxed, the entire surface of the black heart was aflame in an eerie blood red glow, its veiny surface expanding and covering the entire cavern in a silent red wash of bright red light. No more beating, no more pulsing, just a solid blaze of fiery light emitting from the black stony thing.

Sayeth pulled back her still bleeding finger and watched the black thorn shutter with excitement and activity. And from the end of the black lance, something bloomed. A small red heart shaped flower the size of small piece of fruit flowered forth from the end of the spike. At the flower's center, Sayeth could see several small fiery orange probing tendrils, each showed a flurry of life and finally burst open, spraying forth a shower of red dust into the air in front them.

The red pollen like dust trickled down in a misty crimson rain, drifting like blood red shimmering flakes of snow upon the mountain slopes in morning's dawn. But instead of falling, ever downward towards the dark cavern floor, they remained . . . hovering, suspended, dancing, and shimmering in the red light like sparking fiery stars in the black night sky. After a few moments of their twinkling pause, they each began to glow, a soft unified amber golden glow.

As soon as Sindel saw the hazy honey colored radiance, he shirked backwards, back pedaling away from the thousands of glowing tiny dust like crystals in the air near Sayeth. Acanthus tensed, silver sword drawn and at the ready, awaiting what might happen next.

"Sayeth . . . back away, now," Sindel shouted, feeling the build-up of arcane energies releasing around him and the others.

Sayeth sensed the danger as well, moving quickly into a back pedal away from the shining net of sparkling amber lights. Dellya was up now as well, grabbing her bow, and standing guard over the fallen dwarf lying at her feet.

The spectacle of lights knitted itself together in front of the watching heroes, forming a weave of glowing amber energy, shaping itself into a rounded shimmering veil beneath the black heart tree. The small heart shaped flower wilted in front of Sayeth's watching eyes and fell from its black thorny protrusion onto the ground below.

"By the Great Dhalish Wolf," Sindel exhaled.

"It has made a portal, a gate, has it not," Sayeth whispered to Sindel?

"I believe so," he replied.

"A portal, a portal to where," Dellya asked, stepping cautiously behind the area that Sayeth was watching from, her bow still in hand.

"To the Fade," Sayeth answered before Sindel did.

"Indeed," Sindel whispered, staring at the magnificent and terrifying shimmering golden circular gate of magic.

"Well, shut it down, make it stop," Dellya ordered Sindel.

"What? That would take some time and even then . . ," Sindel conceded.

"And why would he, even if he could," Sayeth interrupted.

"Shut up witch girl, this is your doing anyway," Dellya spat at Sayeth.

"You should not fear the unknown you simple coddled little brat," Sayeth shot back.

"I should shoot that finger off your broken little skeletal hand for doing what you did," Dellya roared back, knocking an arrow to her bowstring while ripping back the string.

"Dellya, stop this," Acanthus joined the shouting, still keeping a cautious eye on the shimmering yellow glowing radiating essence.

"Everyone, please, calm yourselves," Sindel whispered out in a commanding hiss.

"Dellya put your arrow down. Sayeth, we have heard enough of you for the time being, quiet your tongue for now, please. Acanthus, relax my friend, what's done is done, I do not believe this portal will harm us."

"And what of those within it," Acanthus asked?

Sindel let out a sigh, raising one of his eyebrows at Acanthus' concern.

"Well, this at least answers one of my many thousands of questions," Sindel pondered aloud, examining the amber gate.

"The Eyes . . . are . . . within the Fade," he said aloud.

"I believe they were taken there by a Templar knight, who at the time took them from the dead body of the slain Lord Darkmoor. This Templar must have known about this heart and its functionality somehow, as he used the thing to open up a gateway to the Fade."

"There are gateways . . . to the Fade," Sayeth asked in wonderment?

"There are not supposed to be, at least for the common mortal," Sindel answered, "not since the days of the ancient Tevinter lords in their misguided quests to storm the halls of the Maker's Golden City, or so the Chantry's lore will tell you."

"Why did the Templar take the Eyes to the Fade then," Sayeth asked?

"I believe he sought to kill or contain the very evil, very powerful Demon that resided inside Lord Darkmoor, before he met his mortal end," Sindel replied.

"This Demon would have returned to the Fade once its host body had been slain. I am guessing the very potent Eyes of the Maker, may offer the ability to abolish a demon's very essence for good, or at least imprison it within the Fade for all time."

"This Templar did not want this particular demon coming back to haunt the living ever again, or at least that is my best guess."

"A great risk this man was willing to take, travelling to the Fade, taking the fight to a powerful Demon in its home lands, using magic's he was unfamiliar with," Acanthus added.

"True enough," Sindel agreed, "perhaps this Demon had issued forth a threat, perhaps upon the Templar's order, or his family . . . his children, or their children even."

"It is hard to say what may have driven him to such rash actions."

"I still do not see why we should care about any of this," Dellya insisted.

"Ozwulf clings to life by a thread, we are all tired and wounded, and we should be done with this vile place while we still can walk out of here by our own will."

"I thought you . . . wanted . . . to be an adventurer," Sindel asked?

A pause took hold over the cavern, as silence enveloped the scene. Moment after long moment, the silence continued without a response as Sindel stared hard at Dellya.

"No . . . nothing to say then," Sindel scolded?

"Because . . . that . . . is the adventure . . . we were sent here to find information about the lost gems and if we were able by some remote means, we would recover those lost Eyes of the Maker."

"Yes, but she . . . lied to us, to you . . ," Dellya whispered.

"It was expected, at least by me," Sindel replied, "she is but another in a long line of Chantry dogs that have lied to me over my lifetime. Bending truths, seeking willing audiences, while taking the attention they are offered and using such power to whatever advantage is at their whimsy at the time."

"Her needs were only part of the quest though," Sindel continued.

"We have risked life and blood to come here, to explore, to learn, to understand, to seek the unknown and learn of it. And look at all that we have learned, all that we have gained here. Dellya, have you not learned stealth and caution in this place, has Sayeth not learned to tend to the wounded in her short time during this quest? Have you not learned the decisiveness of acting in battle or of the risk of the exploration of the unknown? Or the feeling of trust in battle with companions, when their lives are on the line?"

"The lessons of the adventurer are not all . . . sweet to the taste," Acanthus added, remembering the face of his brother, Ragnum.

"Indeed," Sindel said, remembering his own first forays into the lonely wilds south of Denerim when he first ran away from the Alienage.

"But, with all that being said, our adventure is not concluded," Sindel insisted.

"Instead, a gate has formed in front of us, drawn by blood and magic, leading to a dark place of nightmares and mysteries called the Fade. Within this place, somewhere, lye the hidden Eyes of the Maker, gemstones of Chantry prophesy sent from the stars to bless us with their power and wisdom. And they are there, known only to us as it stands today, right here and now. And they are within our grasp, for the taking, for us to recover and do with them as we feel fit."

"Our destiny," Sayeth whispered, staring at the honey colored gateway of magic.

"Perhaps," Sindel said, "if you believe in those types of things."

"Either way, the choices of our lives are our own. And that is how I have lived for most of my days now. It is how I will continue living . . . until I pass."

"What shall we do then," Sindel asked aloud?

"Choices," he whispered, echoing the sentiment around the cavern.

"So then, ye life lessons aside," Dellya said, "We could leave, washing our hands of this quest and this place. Turning our back to unknown, possibly cursed magic, returning to the woods to heal and take to another trail of better fortunes and possibly safer trails."

"Or we could stay, waiting for Sindel's magic's to aid Ozwulf further, tending to our friend until he was able to wake and share his council on our current predicament," Acanthus added.

"Or we could enter this golden gate and seek out the Eyes for ourselves and show them to Ozwulf when he wakes and enjoying them as our spoils for blood given and lives risked on this arduous undertaking," Sayeth countered.

All eyes spun towards Sindel, as each of his three companions had revealed their own thoughts on the choices at hand. It put him front and center to break the tie with his own thoughts on the current situation.

And Sindel would have had it no other way.

"We go then I say," Sindel said with an excitement in his smile, "into the Fade, to recover the Eyes."

The elf's choice was not a popular one and he could see it in Dellya's and Acanthus' eyes. He knew the next topic was not going to be well received either.

"So," Sindel started, "some good news and some bad news to add to this topic."

"I will start with the good news. This gate is very stable and I believe that once we are on the other side, within the Fade, I can . . . close it . . . with my magic's, although it will be a guess until I try such things. I also believe one of us could open it again, just like Sayeth did, with a single prick of blood offered to it for a new portal to bloom. I also feel the hint of some of my magic's building up inside me once more, so I will soon be able to help Ozwulf a little more with his wounds, before we were to leave."

"What do you . . ," Dellya asked, seeing where Sindel was leading this conversation?

"That would be the bad news. I am afraid we must leave sooner rather than later, as in very soon. We cannot wait for Ozwulf to heal or even to be moved."

"Why," Acanthus argued, also not thrilled to hear this latest addition to the plan he was already unsettled by.

"This gate, leading to the Fade, is open," Sindel replied.

"I have never seen something exactly like this in all my days. I believe the longer it stays open, the more attention it draws from the other side, in the Fade, where it is also open. Our life essence, our spirits if you would, are very bright and loud for those within the Fade. The light is a clarion call to those that are dead and for those that prey upon the living. As you hinted at earlier Acanthus, the longer we remain here, in this place with this gate open, the greater risk we take. Time is of the essence I'm afraid."

"Well, we can't leave Ozwulf, period, and I would even be so bold as to say ye need him up and about, not leaving him or weakening ourselves by splitting the party," Dellya said.

"I agree, but fate does not have that in store for us this day," Sindel stated.

"His wounds are grievous and my magic's are taxed. We will have to do the best we can on both fronts."

"What do you suggest," Acanthus asked?

"I think I should place the small amount of magic I have pooled into healing our stubborn dwarven friend," Sindel explained.

"Then, I think Dellya should remain here, to guard over Ozwulf and to re-open the portal for us when we need her to do so . . . with her blood. Meanwhile, I will take you and Sayeth with me, into the portal, into the Fade. From the other side, I will force the gate shut with any remaining magic's I can muster and then the three of us will seek out and reclaim the Eyes of the Maker."

"And how easy will that be," Acanthus asked?

"And how long will that take exactly," Dellya questioned?

"I can answer neither of you with great accuracy I'm afraid, so I will not try," Sindel replied.

"Time is not the same in the Fade as it is here, so predicting time or setting a time for you Dellya would not be anything but a random guess."

"Then how will I know when to help you by re-opening the gate," Dellya asked?

"I can offer you a signal, from the Fade, from my spirit to yours, through my magic's . . ," Sindel said, ". . . I think."

"Oh," Dellya whispered, looking more confused by the moment?

"And as for the difficulty of such a task," Sindel turned, offering Acanthus, "I am unsure the complexity of what we seek to do, but I am sure it will be more than a little dangerous. That is why you will be there my friend. You and your impressive silver blade of demon slaying, leading the way into the dangers of the unknown."

Acanthus nodded, feeling confident in the blades ability.

"The Steel Fire Shroud has already proven to be a powerful ally against demons and their ilk; I believe it to be both weapon and defense against such evils while we are there. Sayeth and I should be able to locate the Eyes from within the Fade, through magical senses, although it may take some time and more than a little exploration I would guess."

"And, I have one more card yet to play, an ally from within the Fade, that I may yet call on to aid us," Sindel hinted.

"But . . . I am no tyrant," Sindel said, "What say you on my plan?"

"The choice is your own and I will force no one to do what they do not feel is right, you know that of me."

"It is a good plan, Sindel elf," Sayeth said first, "I know we can do this, we can find the Eyes, and it is what we were meant to do. I just feel it."

"Acanthus," Sindel asked?

Sindel looked over at Acanthus next. The warrior was tense with anxiety and nervously glanced between the silver blade he was holding and the amber radiant gate near the black heart.

"I am unsure about many things with this plan and I do not think those that are not spirit talkers should dare to walk amongst the dead in their dead world, but, I am not afraid. I will walk this path you have chosen, protecting you if I am able, until I see this quest done . . . or until the Mountain Father calls me home."

Sindel turned to Dellya, who was wiping off the forehead of the resting Ozwulf with a damp piece of cloth bandage.

"Dellya," Sindel nodded?

"Alas good Oz," Dellya whispered down to the still dwarf, "How I wish ye were here with us, awake enough to pound some mad sense into this crazy Dhalish ye call ye friend."

Dellya looked up at Sindel, who was smiling at her half-hearted insult of a prayer.

"Go on then, make ready ye plan elf. I will not stand in ye way. I will watch over our friend and when the time is needed, I will give the cursed black heart my own blood and bring ye all back to this realm. If . . . there are any of ye to be bringing back . . . Maker watch over ye all."