"Revenge may be wicked, but it's natural."
~ William Makepeace Thackeray, Vanity Fair.
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Melori stared up lifted the blade, the metal catching the firelight between Gallus's hands. She wanted to dodge to the side or scramble away, but her body felt leaden and heavy, the acrid taste of magic and the power that pressed her down overwhelming her senses. She could see Dorian behind him, struggling to win free, and a flash of a white tail. The power of the blood binding her was strong, feeding off of Gallus's power, which had been augmented by someone else's death – many someones, from the way his aura pulsed.
"And now," the magister said, "A little revenge."
The blade plunged and time seemed to slow. Melori felt cold steel sinking into her chest, cold and hot at the same time as pain flared … and then something struck Gallus hard and fast, bowling the mage over. The magic holding her in place snapped and she rolled to her side, coughing violently, clutching at her chest and groaning, blood soaking between her fingers.
To her left, she saw a familiar, pale-haired elf stabbing at the magister with dual blades, moving almost faster than she could follow. Gallus turned against him with a spell, driving the elf to his knees in obvious pain. While they were occupied, Melori took the chance to crawl on hand and knees across the floor toward Dorian.
"You always make such remarkable entrances," he said when she reached him.
"Running … face first ... into … a blood ward?" she panted, taking Varric's other blade from her belt and sawing at the ropes around his wrists. Finally freed, he winced and shook his hands out, a fierce smile crossing his face as he stood and spread his hands to either side, fire boiling from between his palms.
"This is how one ends a fight with a blood mage, my friend," Dorian said, murder in his eyes as the fire poured into the midst of the combatants. The rogue saw it coming and leapt away, but Gallus was caught unawares, his back to the two other mages. He turned in a rage and red-black smoke billowed toward them across the floor, but Dorian was ready for him. Fire wreathed the room and pushed the black smoke back as the two mages tested one another.
Gallus wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of one hand, all hint of a smile gone from his face, dark brows lowering over his eyes. "Ah, Pavus. Nice of you to join the party. I suppose I'll have to tell your father you died in the midst of your feeble attempt at autonomy."
"Delightful conversation, as always, Gallus," Dorian smirked, drawing a line of fire between them. "Sadly, you lack the wit to finish once you begin."
"You would know, wouldn't you?" The other man hissed, and Melori found herself scuttling backward as blackened, creeping mist crawled across the tiles toward them. Cat bounded out from behind the curtains and twined against her, blood catching on his fur. He hissed at the black smoke, tail standing straight up and his ears flat against his skull. Dorian stood his ground and set his staff into the floor, a wash of blue energy racing out from him and covering the ground in a wave of light to push the fetid cloud away.
"It hurts me that you would so quickly discount our time together," Dorian said with amusement, . "Explains the kidnapping. Missed me, did you?"
Gallus's lip curled and he began to walk forward, having forgotten everything but the infuriatingly calm mage standing in front of him. Dorian tugged his gloves down with an absent air, the only signs of anger in the way his eyes narrowed and the shift of his weight as he drew a sigil in the air before him. A blaze erupted on the floor around Gallus's feet, but the blood mage seemed not to care, standing in the center of the inferno with his hand spread to either side.
"Watch your back, Dorian." His voice carrying across the room, fluid and intriguing, full of strange power. "Your little friend is not the ally you think she is."
Melori gasped, felt the pressure on her mind again, the seeking, grasping hold of the blood mage's power tugging on her will and dragging her to her feet, her hand grasping tightly to the blade Varric had given her. Cat hissed, his fur standing on end, and she felt power shifting over her, trying to push the blood mage's influence away - though it did no good. It hurt to move, her breath burning in her chest, her head swimming with the pain of her injuries, but, despite fighting it, Melori walked forward, one foot in front of the other, her hand lifting with the blade in it as she approached Dorian's back.
"Stop ... STOP!" She gasped before her voice, too, was stripped from her.
Shimmering wards shot up around Dorian before she could reach him, and he turned, his face a mask as her body was thrown into the blue haze and she gasped in pain, lifting a hand with power flaring over her fingers, hissing and spitting with building lightning. Never had she lost control so completely to someone else, and Melori fought it, trying to withdraw her hand, trying to step back. She succeeded to a degree, face pale with the struggle, and her eyes met Dorian's.
"You should see you right now," he said with a crooked smile, his mustache lifting to one side as he sighed. "Do forgive me, this is going to sting a bit, I'm afraid." His hand lifted and power rippled out from his center in an inexorable wave of blue light, hurtling Melori away from him and into the nearby wall, the knife spinning out of her hand as she slid down and fell into a heap, one of her arms feeling strangely numb.
A spell slammed against Dorian as his back was turned, dissipating against his shields as he spun on his heel and threw fire into Gallus's face so hard and fast that the other magister screamed, barely able to ward himself. His robes caught fire and the magister threw them off, slinging them to the side. Melori could see through hazy eyes that he bore a ragged scar across his chest, ending just above the waistband of his trousers. Her work, probably. A smile crossed her lips.
Fire and blood and blue spirit light flared across the space between the Altus and the Magister. The curtains caught fire and flared, illuminating the room in flickering light. Dorian staggered as the powerful spells hit him, but he did not waver, his acid tongue doing as much damage as his magery. Gallus replied, but it was clear the jabs struck his pride and his spellwork became frantic, inelegant, rabid ... when the elf stepped up behind him, Melori had barely enough time to register his presence before one of the rogue's blades sank deep into Gallus's back, the other coming round this throat and slicing neatly, precisely to the side.
"Now, don't we all feel so much better?" Dorian said with a smile, though he did not take his eyes from the elf as Gallus's body slumped to the floor. "I hope you do not intend to continue your master's work after that."
"You should look to your friend," the elf said, jerking his blade free before rolling the corpse onto its back. "I've killed the guards and anyone who would have come running. That Qunari and dwarf have taken everything else in hand."
"Join us," Dorian answered, his eyes tracking the growing pool of blood across the floor. "The Inquisitor is always looking for new recruits."
Smoke filtered through the room as the curtains fell to the floor in smoldering heaps of mildewed cloth. The echoes of magic lingered, sparking and creeping along the floor in atmospheric drags and occasional arcs. Dorian straightened his clothes and his hair, then turned in a slow circle to survey the damage. When his gaze lit on Melori, he muttered a curse beneath his breath, foosteps ringing on the stone as he crossed to where she lay at the base of the wall.
"Melori?" His hands were gentle as he pushed her matted hair out of her face, his face pale beneath his tan. "Maker ... I've nearly done you in."
"Would take... more than that," she managed, coughing painfully as she tried to sit up. "Can ... we go home now?"
He laughed at that, a tight, strained sound, and he pulled her up into a sitting position. "Of course. I'll just swing round and call the carriage, shall I?"
Cat brushed by Dorian's arm and curled his warm, silken body against her thigh, purring lightly. There was blood on his fur, but he seemed otherwise perfectly fine. He nudged her hand with his head. "Well, at least that's done now."
"Did that ... " Dorian's voice trailed off, his eyes on Cat. "Did the cat just speak?"
Cat blinked slowly at Dorian, his Fade green eyes gleaming with what looked to be amusement. "Of course not. Felines can do many things, but speaking to humans is not one of them."
"You're new pet is possessed."
"It's ... the spirit that's ... been following me," Melori explained, rubbing Cat's ears with the arm that still worked. She looked up as the shadow of the elf rogue fell over them, his gray eyes narrowed. "So. You've saved my life twice now," she said, frowning at him.
"I killed your friends," he answered stiffly. "I cannot make amends for that."
"No," She agreed, pausing to cough again. "No, you cannot. Was he compelling you, too?"
"Yes." He looked away, his lips tightening as he stared at the magister's body on the floor. "He also has - had my family and was holding them against me. I can release them now and will not kill for him again."
"The Inquisition could use a blade like yours," Dorian said. "In the meantime, would you know where one might find an apothecary, a healer, or, perhaps, a healing potion? My friend is in desperate need of a philter. Though, perhaps we should first have your name, hmm?"
"Seloris," the rogue said, crouching down next to Melori and handing a potion to Dorian, though his fingers gripped it tighter as Dorian attempted to take it from him. "Illiam Seloris. You can't heal her yourself?"
"I can do many things perfectly" Dorian answered, brow lifting. "Healing, however, is not one of them."
"Pity," the elf said, lips quirking into a half-smile as he let go of the potion. Dorian scowled.
The sun was breaking through the windows along the back of the hall when Iron Bull and Varric arrived. They were covered in blood and bruises, though Bull was the worst off, having apparently taken the full brunt of the Venatori forces. Weapons at the ready, they came limping through the double doors only to stop short when they saw the two mages and the strange elf at the other end of the hall and the bloody corpse in to one side.
"Ribbons, I thought I told you to stay put," Bull said to Melori his brow drawing down over his eyes.
"It became inconvenient," she replied, wincing as Dorian finished tying her arm into a sling. Her voice was rough and hoarse, and her face was flushed with a rising fever - but she was alive. "I had to find Dorian."
"You mean you couldn't stand sitting still for that long," Varric chuckled, walking forward to take a look at the dead magister on the floor. "Looks like you all had your own troubles."
"An old friend was lying in wait for us," Dorian murmured, leaning his head back against the wall. He nodded toward Illiam, "Our friend here was one of his unwilling allies until he put an end to Gallus's sorry life."
A flurry of footsteps sounded in the halls behind them and everyone stiffened. Melori rose awkwardly to her feet with Dorian's help while the rest drew their weapons, waiting to see who was coming. But then the Inquisitor and Cassandra rounded the door into the room, Blackwall and Solas on their heels, and everyone but Illiam relaxed, their weapons lowering. He took a moment, then sheathed his blades.
"Oh, thank the Maker," The Inquisitor said, a smile crossing her face at the sight of them. "We thought we were too late. Serida said ... well, she feared you were all dead."
"It's good to see you, your Worship," Melori smiled, cheered beyond words by the news that Serida had survived. "I'm so glad she made it."
"She said you dunked her in the river first," Solas said, moving through the group and tending to wounds, one by one, his hands gleaming with green light.
"Hah, yes, I did," Melori nodded, coughing into her hand. "Not my best idea, probably."
"You've had some winners recently," Bull muttered, which earned him a glare.
Cat twined through Melori's legs and stood up on his hind legs, pawing at her knees. Dorian leaned over and picked him up, depositing the animal onto Melori's good arm with a sly smile. "You're going to be the end of me," she hissed to them both.
"Inquisitor, if I may?" Dorian said, walking away with a smirk. "This is Illiam Seloris. He was under the mental coercion of the Venatori who was running this lovely establishment. The Venatori had his family and Gallus used his magic to bind him."
"I am afraid not many of your people would welcome me, given my actions under Gallus's command." Illiam explained again, his posture very stiff.
Cassandra's eyes snapped to Melori at the mention of the magister's name, but the mage was staring at the floor, swaying a little as she scratched the white cat around the ears. "Gallus?" The Seeker asked.
"A powerful blood mage," Dorian supplied, gesturing to the body on the floor. "We believed him dead, but were wrong. His body lies there. Illiam would make a good addition to the Inquisition, considering his knowledge of the Venatori."
"I will consider it," The Inquisitor answered, looking him over with a small frown, though her tone was not unfriendly. "For now, let us get everyone moving and back to camp. We've got a long ride ahead of us."
"What of the ruin we were meant to study?" Melori asked, "It could be important. After all the trouble we went to ... "
"I think," Cassandra said drily, "That everyone here needs rest before we even consider another ruin exploration."
Melori and Cat followed the group through the manor house at the slow pace of the dead tired. A few times one of the others would have to put a hand out to guide her around some obstacle and she would thank them and step over or around it. There were a lot of dead bodies in the hallways and various rooms, but her nose was so stuffed up she could barely smell a thing, thankfully. All she wanted was a bath and to sleep for a year. And maybe to regain the use of her right arm, which Solas said needed more in depth attention than he could give before they got to camp.
"Ribbons."
"Hmm?" She realized she'd stopped walking and looked around in bleary confusion. They were in the courtyard where Inquisition soldiers waited with the horses. In the morning light the space looked far less ominous, despite the red lyrium and dead templars everywhere. Bull sighed and put a hand between her shoulder blades, propelling her forward toward the horses.
"You're like a lost imekari," he chuckled.
"Are you calling me something nasty?" She asked, pausing to cough into her shoulder, one hand in a sling, the other wrapped around Cat. Cat was lying half over her left shoulder, watching behind her and purring uproariously.
"No," Bull grinned. "I could come up with something worse, if you prefer it."
"Ah, no. Thank you," Melori answered. Her head was beginning to pound in that way that elf root wasn't likely to touch.
One of the soldiers brought over a horse who was not Tempest, and she eyed it for a moment with a frown, during which time Cat maneuvered himself around and jumped from her shoulder to the horse's back and looked down at her with a smug expression. Bull took advantage of the moment and lifted Melori up into the saddle, patting her gently on the shoulder once she was situated.
It was a weary group who reached the camp a few hours later. Melori slid out of the saddle and leaned her head against the horse's side, not moving. Her head hurt, she was sick, her arm didn't work, and the scab on her chest was stinging painfully. Cat rubbed up against her, purring and then head butting her, but she found herself unwilling to move.
"Ma falon," Solas put a hand under her elbow. "There is a hot bath waiting for you and a bed."
"A hot bath?" She asked, lifting her head and blinking at him. "Out here?"
"The Dalish found a metal tub in one of the ruined houses on the Plains. They have been using it at their camp," he explained. "I have asked their healer to help you and she agreed, given all the Inquisitor has done to aid their clan."
"Oh," she blinked and nodded, swaying slightly. "That sounds lovely."
"I thought you would think so," he smiled, urging her forward past the aravels to the waiting Dalish healer and another elven woman. Cat tried to dart past them toward the bath, but Solas stooped down and lifted the feline into up into the crook of his arm, stroking the soft fur. "I will be here, acquainting myself with your ... companion." he said as they led Melori away.