A/N: Hi! My muse has been on fire, giving me all the ideas, and it's been difficult to keep up. In the midst of that, I wrote this chapter the other day! Thank you to Raven Sinead for being a spectacular beta and stroking my ego, like, a lot.
Enjoy!
Chapter 21: A Portrait of Dorian Pavus
The Chantry was large, made of stone, much like the Chantry in Haven. Though here it was surrounded by greenery, with a nice view of the lake. It was more inviting than the imposing structure built into the mountainside in Haven. Zanneth supposed that was as it should be. The mountainous surroundings in Haven were not welcoming. The Chantry, by comparison, was a welcome reprieve from the cold and snow.
"We're never gonna be rid of the damn Chantry, are we?" Bull rumbled, looking up at the stone building dubiously.
"We are dealing with magic, the Fade, and demons, Bull," Solas remarked, shaking his bald head. "Their chief desire is to control such things. Of course we will not be rid of the Chantry."
"Pah," Cassandra's voice sounded, voicing her disagreement. "And what do you know of the Chantry, Solas? You have lived only outside its jurisdiction."
"Oh? And what is so wonderful about it, Seeker? To me, I see only control."
Cassandra was quiet a moment before answering. "The Chantry, at its best, would feed the hungry, spread the Chant of Light, and teach control to those who would otherwise sew chaos in our lands. It taught me to control my own tempestuous nature as a young woman. Divine Justinia was trying to bring the Chantry back to its original purpose…"
"And we know she would have succeeded, my dear," Vivienne said, a hand barely grazing Cassandra's arm in a momentary show of support and comfort. "I was a great fan of hers."
Cassandra looked as though she found Vivienne's comfort distasteful. "I know the Chantry has its problems," she said through gritted teeth. "But imagine the world of Men without it? It would be Tevinter, only worse."
"There is that," Solas conceded. "Shall we go inside?"
Zanneth nodded, moving to the giant door. Cassandra came to her side, ostensibly to help. "Are you all right?" the elf asked, eyeing the human warrior from the side.
Cassandra shook her head. "I am fine. I sometimes forget that the Chantry and my faith are separate things. I have faith in the Maker. The Chantry and its ability to function exists outside of that." She paused, lifting her hands to the door. "Old habits… die hard."
Zanneth cocked her head to the side at that, but didn't ask for clarification. Instead, she nodded. "Your faith obviously gives you strength. I don't share it, but I… respect it in you."
"That is more than I could ask someone without the same experiences," Cassandra said. "Now, shall we go inside?"
They were met by the familiar green glow of a Fade-rift, silhouetting a figure standing between the pews.
"Ah! You're finally here!" The man's voice was rich, with an odd accent, not unlike that of Alexius, that was pleasing to hear. It was entirely unlike Magister Alexius, however, in that it was genuine and not layered in grease. "I don't suppose you could help me close this? I'm afraid I lack the singularly unique and necessary tool."
Bull snorted. "I got the tool you're lookin' for right here, poncy little boy," he said, earning him a smack from Cassandra.
"What?" Zanneth asked, looking around. She was met with a shake of the head.
"Who are you?" Cassandra demanded, moving forward. "What are you doing here?"
"Ah, yes, quite right. Dorian of House Pavus, at your service," the man said, sweeping himself into a bow. "I came here to await your arrival, but as you can see, a rift has appeared. Right in the Chantry. Imagine that."
"There are no demons," Zanneth pointed out, meandering forward, her eyes on the rift. The mark on her hand responded lazily, warming and sending sparks up her arm, but otherwise not reacting as it normally did when in close proximity to a rift.
"Yes, there are no demons to fight. Isn't it lovely?" the new man, Dorian, said, turning from Zanneth's companions and coming to her side. "I suppose that's different from normal?"
"Quite," the Herald replied, eyes up on the rift still. The light was different somehow, less alive, like it was asleep. She wasn't sure, but it seemed familiar…
"It is like the rift at the Temple." Solas came up next to them, eyes reflecting the green light of the rift. "It was… dormant, for lack of a better word. It had to be opened so that it could be closed. This is different, though. Likely there is some element of temporal distortion, like with the rift just outside Redcliffe."
Zanneth nodded. Politics were difficult to navigate. This, however, she could do: fight demons and close rifts. Her one useful skill in all this. "So, if I open it, I can then close it permanently?"
"Theoretically," Solas answered, looking to her. "I cannot say for certain, of course, as this is an entirely new variety of rift. But given our experience thus far… it seems a safe assumption."
Nodding, Zanneth looked around. "Prepare yourselves to fight," she said, eyes falling on Dorian last. "I assume you are willing to do so, if you're waiting for our arrival? You are working with Fiona?"
"Indeed, I am!" the man said brightly, clapping his hands together. A murmured word, and when he pulled his hands apart, he held lightning between his palms. "Do what you must, I am ready with my best tricks!"
Zanneth couldn't help the pull of a smile at her lips. Shaking her head, she looked back to the rift. "All right. Now!"
She lifted her hand, and while the mark did not respond normally to the rift, still she felt the warmth travel her shoulder to her palm before a green light burst forth. It was only a pulse however, and then the light was gone, a searing, crackling pain replacing the warmth as the rift opened and her mark began pulsating with its sickeningly alive nature.
It was instantaneous pandemonium. Fire filled her vision, lightning and ice and great bursts of power surrounding her as her magic-wielding companions shouted their spells. Zanneth heard the ring of Cassandra's steel and the boom of Bull's battle cry. Wood splintered, crashing against the wall as pews were thrown out of the way of attacking demons.
The Dalish elf's eyes, however, were stuck on the molten-red demon that was advancing upon her. There was nothing where its eyes should be, and yet she felt it had its gaze upon her, and that there was nothing she could do to escape its scrutiny. Fear struck her heart. Her bow was useless to her this close. What would she do?
Cassandra's voice rose above the din. "Zanneth! Your sword!"
Yes! I have a sword! I'm bloody terrible with it, but I can at least try!
She pulled the weapon from the sheath upon her back, lying flush against her quiver full of arrows. It was not as heavy in her grip as the practice weapon she typically wielded, but that only allowed her a stronger grip on the hilt. She brought it before her, watching the demon as it crossed the last few feet between them.
She caught its first strike with her sword, but the shock of the blow knocked her to the ground. The demon was strong. Stronger than any opponent had been with her during practice. Where was Cassandra? Why was she not here?
I cannot rely on her forever.
Zanneth rolled to the side, noting in the back of her mind that the monster she fought had struck exactly where she had been lying. Scrambling to her feet, Zanneth knew her only choice was to run. So run she did. Leading a merry chase through the Chantry, up over a pew, ducking under Bull's hulking frame, she finally found Cassandra surrounded by three monsters. Without thinking, Zanneth lashed out, not causing damage, but distracting the demon and giving the Seeker the opening she needed. Seconds later, as Zanneth dodged to the side, away from the demon that had chased her all through the Chantry, Cassandra was stepping forward, meeting the beast's blow with crossed swords.
Sparks flew, and then the creature was dispatched. "Go!" Cassandra shouted, moving so she was in anyone's path who might go after Zanneth. "I will follow!"
Without a word, Zanneth was on her feet, flying through the Chantry, racing for the rift. The only way to stop this chaos was to close the rift. Would it ever not be an all-out melee every time they encountered one?
Her hand crackled and sizzled, alerting her to the proximity of the rift. Lifting her hand, she felt the familiar warmth wash through her. Time seemed to stretch, a new sensation. She could hear the clang of Cassandra's swords as another demon tried to strike at Zanneth. The metallic ring stretched, too, the tone altering, warbling lower.
Then, in a rush, it was all over, and Zanneth felt normal again. The rift burst closed, showering them in its healing warmth, and the elf stood, panting, eyes surveying the room, landing on each of her companions before finally settling on Cassandra.
You always come back to Cassandra.
She asked with her eyes if the Seeker was all right, and she got a nod in response. Shaking herself loose, Zanneth retrieved her sword from the floor, sheathing it before rounding on the man who had been in here when they arrived.
"Fascinating! How does that work, exactly?"
Zanneth merely knit her brows in answer. Wasn't that part of the problem? Nobody knew what the blighted mark was, let alone how it worked.
"You don't even know, do you?" he said with a chuckle, his dusky skin bright in a grin. "You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes!" His dark hair was styled differently than Zanneth had seen in anyone else, and his facial hair was sparse, only a line of hair curled over his lip. It was odd to the Dalish elf. Elves did not grow facial hair. She preferred that look to the various ways she had seen human men affect.
Cassandra stepped forward, eyeing this newcomer, Dorian, dubiously. "Where is House Pavus, Dorian?"
"Ah ha! Astute, I see! I am most recently of Minrathous, though my ability to return there has been… well, it's nonexistent, at this point."
"Another 'Vint?!" Bull said, sounding incredulous. "This place is fucking crawling with them!"
Dorian pursed his lips. "Right. And I'm so happy to be in a small stone building with a qunari madman."
"Mad- why you little-"
"Enough!"
Everyone in the room turned to the source of the new voice. There, standing at the door to the Chantry, was Fiona, Felix at her side.
"I can see I should have thought this through more thoroughly," she said, stepping into the room. "Dorian, provoking an agent of the Inquisition, even if he is qunari, is foolish. Neither of you are part of the war between your peoples." She continued moving until she and Felix were through Zanneth's companions and standing where the rift had been. "Now, let us get everything sorted. I'm sure there are questions."
Cassandra spoke up first. "It was not you we saw in Haven." It was not a question, but still she looked to Fiona for confirmation.
"You are correct," the former Grand Enchanter said. "Alexius used a glamour charm, took on my appearance, and magicked himself to Haven. I was in a cell, here, looking like him. I had no idea why he used the glamour charm at the time. Now, of course, I know."
"And you are working against him?"
"Yes. My people panicked and took the only offer of aid that came to them. I was against it, but if I was to let them vote for independence, then I could not keep them from voting for this."
"So why work against him?" Vivienne asked, eyes showing her shrewd intelligence. "You would let them choose their fate but now you would work to undermine that very choice?"
Fiona pursed her lips for a moment before speaking. "Vivienne, we never did get along in the Circle. But I assure you that, in this, we work toward the same goal. Surely you have noticed strange things about the rifts in this area? Are you not curious how it came to be?"
"Yes, and let's talk about the timing of Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you," Dorian said. "As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. In order to reach Redcliffe within mere days of the Breach and begin his promises of safety from the mystical templar horde, Alexius distorted time itself. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it will unravel the world, rift by rift, town by town."
The room was silent for a moment after that statement.
Cassandra finally broke the silence. "And how is it you know so much about this, and why are you working against your own countryman?"
"I was his apprentice," Dorian said. "So I'm sure you can imagine that my help in this endeavor will be invaluable."
"And what makes you trustworthy?" Bull said, his maul no longer in his hands, but his demeanor just as intimidating. "Your disloyalty to your master?"
"My disloyalty to my Magsiter master, you mean? I thought you would be happy for this information, qunari."
"Really, this will get us nowhere," Fiona cut in, literally stepping between Bull and Dorian.
"What's going on?" Zanneth asked, eyes moving from Dorian to Bull and back. "Obviously this isn't about the Breach."
"Their people have been at war for hundreds of years," Cassandra said, her hand landing on Zanneth's shoulder. "It is… difficult to leave that history behind you."
"If we could get back to the matter at hand, please? My time with you is limited." Fiona paced away from Bull and Dorian, going to Felix's side.
"I helped Alexius form this magic when I was his apprentice, but it was all theory. He never could get it to work," Dorian said, going to join Fiona and Felix. "What I don't understand is why he's doing it. Ripping time apart just to gain a few hundred lackeys?"
"He didn't do it for them." Felix finally spoke, calling everyone's attention in the room. "My father's joined a cult. Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves 'Venatori.' Whatever he's done for them, he's done it for one thing only: to get to you," he said, pointing right at Zanneth.
"Why work against your father?" Cassandra asked, brows knit.
"For the same reason Dorian is. I love my father, and my country. But this? Cults? Magic that distorts time? He's gone mad. I must do what I can to stop him, for his own sake."
Zanneth clucked her tongue lightly. "I already knew he was after me. But can you tell us why?"
"The whole cult is obsessed with you, but I don't know why. Father keeps me in the dark, treats me like a sick little boy. All I can think is that your survival of the explosion at the Conclave got their attention."
"You can close the rifts," Dorian said, though his eyes were focused elsewhere, deep in thought. "Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?"
Felix's expression fell, showing true fear. "If the Venatori are behind the rifts, or the Breach? They're even worse than I thought…"
"That son of a bitch sure did a lot to get into your pants, boss," Bull said, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Did you bring anything for him?"
"A fruit basket would do nicely," Dorian quipped. Zanneth was confused. Weren't they just bickering?
"We know the Herald is Alexius's target," Solas said, finally ending his silence. "Expecting the trap is the first step toward turning it to your advantage."
"I agree," said Vivienne. "But how to turn it to our advantage…"
"I must be back to the castle soon," Fiona said, looking around a little nervously. "I must avoid suspicion at all costs. He already knows I am not happy with this arrangement. If he suspects I am actively working against him…"
"Yes, and I must be off, as well," Dorian announced. "But when you do spring your own trap, I would be part of it. I helped develop this magic. I am responsible for ensuring it doesn't rip apart the world."
"We have a camp of soldiers at the crossroads," Zanneth said. "You can return with us and keep informed of our plans there if you wish."
Bull didn't look happy at the offer, but nobody openly protested.
"Well, what an invitation! I shall find them under cover of night. Until then… Felix, do try not to get yourself killed."
"There are worse things than dying, Dorian," the junior Alexius said, shaking his head. "Take care of yourself."
"I always do!" called the Tevinter mage as he disappeared through a hallway near the back of the Chantry.
"I must be off, as well," Fiona said. "I will await your move when you meet with Alexius. Do try not to catch me in the crossfire?" She left them, as well, slipping through the heavy wooden doors with seemingly no effort.
Felix eyed the door. "I should report back to the castle, as well. My father doesn't know I faked my collapse yesterday, and I would prefer to keep it that way. Good luck. I'm sure you'll find a good way to turn his trap around on him."
"Wait, Felix. I…" Zanneth was unsure how to say it, but it needed to be said if they were to work together. "Your father… mercy might be in short supply."
His dark eyes were sad when they met hers. "I know. If that is what it takes to stop him… I won't get in your way."
With that declaration, he was gone, leaving the Chantry by the same route as Dorian. Zanneth could only stare after him, wondering at his courage, at his resolve to do the right thing despite possibly losing his father.
"Come," Cassandra said at last. "We should not stay here. Until we get word from Alexius, we should regroup with our companions at the crossroads."
Nodding, Zanneth turned, leaving the Chantry with the others through the front doors.