Chapter 3: The Threat Remains
"It is a unique mark, is it not?" a cultured voice commented from the doorway. Rheya's head jerked up at the voice, the elf chuckled at the reaction. "My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you Healer." Rheya scowled, Solas' continued lack of appearance on her senses was proving to be most irritating. She wasn't used to someone being able to sneak up on her without her knowledge and the silent elf was far harder to keep track of amidst the hum of the village's growing population.
"Yes," she said, curtly releasing the man's wrist, she had been taking the opportunity to get a better look at the now faded and quiet mark maring his hand. The Mark was a ragged slashing gash that stretched the width of his palm, emitting the faintest of glows from deep within. Having been given the time to closely examine it, Rheya had found that it was not a physical wound. It seemed that a strange magic; very much like the Breach itself had opened up on his skin rather than in the air like the larger Rifts. It didn't seem like it was a threat to the man's health, at least now that it had quieted down.
"A very unique mark." she agreed going back to her work, pulling debris from his elbow and forearm that bore a rather nasty scrape. Picking up the tweezers she pulled another chunk of rock that had embedded itself under the skin. After a few minutes of silent work, Rheya let out a resigned sigh when the elf made no move to leave. "You are still here."
"So I am," the elf replied with a hint of amusement as he entered the room fully; bare feet making no sound as he strolled across the floor.
"Why are you still here?" She snapped, dropping the tweezers down in the bowl now full of small slivers of rock and wood. Picking up a wet rag to clean up the scrapes and bandaging them.
"Curiosity mostly," came the reply.
"About me or my patient?" Rheya asked, tying off the bandage and rolling down the man's sleeve before gathering up her things. "Because I'm afraid to say you might find me rather dull compared to this lad."
"I'm sure you have your own unique curiosities," Solas concurred "but I was speaking of your patient. How is he faring now that the Breach has quieted?"
"As well as one would expect given the circumstances, I could not find anything physically wrong with him other than some superficial scrapes and bruises. Mostly I think that he is suffering from pure exhaustion, whatever he did to seal the Breach took a great deal of energy; anymore and it would surely have killed him." The healer pulled the blanket back up over the resting man, tucking him in before gathering up her instruments. "I would say under normal circumstances that given a few days of rest he will be right as rain, but that mark seems to be giving him some trouble."
"How so?" Solas asked finally approaching the bed and examining the Mark even as Rheya moved away to pack her things in the basket she had brought them in.
"His sleep is fitful, breathing shallow and irregular and his fever has only just broken. I would not expect to see these things with a usual case of exhaustion."
"I see," the elf commented, taking the man's marked hand in his own. "I will see if I can do anything to ease his rest."
"Thank you." The healer replied genuinely as she gathered her basket of supplies and made to leave before pausing part way to the door. "I am curious, how did an untrained apostate learn so much about that Mark?"
"Just because I did not study under a Dalish keeper nor in a Circle of Magi does not automatically mean that I am untrained."
Rheya nodded in acknowledgment, "fair enough. So what, because you did not study under a conventional teacher, you somehow gained some knowledge that many generations of practicing Mages lacked." Rheya remarked sarcastically receiving the barest hints of a scowl from the elf. "I'm not saying I don't get it, I've seen many Circles where their teachings have become stagnant and stunted, with no real drive to branch out and discover new methods to their spell casting. The Chantry has made sure that even those that have the desire to expand their knowledge are hobbled by restrictions. Even the Dalish seem content to try to claw their way into a past that is long gone rather than move forward. What I am saying is quite an unlikely coincidence that an apostate with such unorthodox teachings happened to be in the area when the Breach appeared."
"That is a rather insightful observation," the elf remarked with a modicum of surprise. "Were you trying to imply that I had something to do with this?" he questioned in amusement, the healer shrugged shifting the basket in her arms. "Not at all. I am merely making a note of how curiously lucky it is that the biggest hole in the Fade opens up right above us and it turns out we have our own savant on the subject in the area."
"Then you and your village should feel lucky such a coincidence happened."
"That we do," Rheya nodded before leaving the hut.
In the following days things at Haven had finally begun to settle down after the short lived festivities that followed the sealing of the Breach-temporary that it was. After which things seemed to pick up again with the reinstatement of the Inquisition. The newly dubbed Herald of Andraste, a man by the name of Tyrion Trevelyan. He had been sent off to fetch Mother Giselle from the Hinterlands shortly after waking. It was hoped that he might find a way to placate the Chantry after being blamed for the death of Divine Justinia. Only time would tell; he was proving to be quite keen in getting tasks accomplished.
With the arrival of Mother Giselle, also came a request for watch towers to be built to make the Hinterlands more safe from the war waging Templars and Mages. In return there was the promise that the great Horse Master Dennet would come to aid them himself with some of his best mounts to outfit their group. From the latest news; Trevelyan, Seeker Pentaghast, Varric Tethras and the Apostate Solas were headed to Orlais to meet with the clerics and hopefully gain some favor for the Inquisition .
Mother Giselle was a relief for Rheya, the Mother had brought a number of clerics with her and had set up a clinic in the Chantry taking a great deal of pressure from the small village healer. As pleasant as it was with the arrival of help there was also the downside in the form of Chancellor Rodrick who seemed bent on stirring up trouble between the few Templars and Mages that had joined the Inquisition.
Weeks passed by without much development, soon Cullen's troops returned from the Hinterlands with Horse master Dennet along with a herd of horses, filling the previously vacant stable. It was at this point that Rheya got the amusing task of introducing the Horse Master to his first Nugalope, a challenge Dennet had found intimidating at first but did not shy away from nonetheless.
Dennet had finally settled into Haven life when the next of Trevelyan's recruits arrived, the Madame de Fer. Rheya took an instant dislike to the woman. She had heard of Lady Vivienne before; a talented Mage that she was, added with the news of her scandalous relationship with Bastien de Ghislain. The Healer respected the woman's ability but still she greatly disliked the master manipulator, she was an avid player of the Game. Rheya had a great dislike for the Game, so much so that she tried to avoid traveling to Orlais all together when possible. She knew Lady Nightingale and Ambassador Montilyet were both players of the Game as well, despite that Rheya was pleased that they attempted to be pleasant and subtle in their manipulation when they chose to do so. Lady Vivian had no such notion; behaving as she would in the heart of Orlais itself. The next arrival had to have been the polar opposite of the refined Mage.
Sera was something else entirely; the brash loudmouthed elf had no sense of propriety. She was into everything and anything she could; snooping in people's things, playing practical jokes and talking up the servants when not at the tavern. Many nights, Rheya was entertained by perfectly obscene stories of things she and other 'friends of Red Jenny' had done to some stuck up noble; even if she did find that the elf's loud voice was painful to her sensitive ears.
Heading toward the quartermaster's tent, Rheya paused watching a clean shaven young man with brown hair and heavy armor. He was wandering around the courtyard trying to get someone to stop and speak with him, but everyone seemed too busy with their own tasks to pay him any mind. He stopped and looked around exasperatedly, running his hand through short cropped hair before seeming to come to a decision. Turning he headed toward the Chantry.
Taking pity on the Tevinter, the accent was clear enough, she moved to intercept him before he could reach the doors. Sera had been concocting yet another prank and the Healer had a feeling that entering the Chantry now would trigger it, given the elf's increased look of glee anytime someone came close to the doors of the large building.
"Excuse me." She called quickly walking over to him and grabbing his arm to get his attention.
"Yes." he asked in confusion, looking down at the slightly shorter woman.
"Could you help me with something?"
"I'm actually here looking for-"
"I must insist." Rheya stated, cutting him off before he could protest too much; a pointed look at the blond elf seated on a stack of crates across the courtyard eating an apple and watching the crowd mill about. The Tevinter followed her gaze before looking back at the Healer.
"Trust me, you might want to wait before going in there." she said with a wink.
"Alright," he said with a reluctant shrug and glanced at the elf again, who seemed put out the further he got from the Chantry.
"You see my supplies just came in and I need some help moving these crates." Rheya stated leading the way to the Quartermaster's tent. "Oh, Chancellor Rodrick." she paused and called to the robed man, "I believe Mother Giselle was looking for you." The man scowled at her in disdain like he did most people. She merely answered back with a serene smile, before he headed off toward the Chantry.
The Tevinter gave her a curious look complete with raised eyebrow that was answered a moment later by a crash and shouts of disgust, the blond elf went by cackling moments later.
"Clever thing you did there Healer," She called heading down the stairs toward the tavern. "I like the way you work."
"I most certainly don't know a thing you are talking about Sera." she stated with a conspiratorial wink at the man as she led him into the Quartermaster's tent.
"Healer, good to see you." Threnn called wiping an arm across her sweaty forehead as she moved to inspect the contents of a crate before moving it to where it belonged in the stacks. "What can I do for you?"
"Rena said, that my supplies had come in."
"Oh," Threnn paused, gathering up a clipboard and looking over the contents. "Ah yes; bandages, catgut and surgical instruments. Give me a moment and I'll bring it out for you. I have Adan's empty potion bottles as well, would you mind dropping them off on your way? He said he needed them as soon as possible." Threnn asked, stacking up another crate to the side.
"Of course," Rheya said, with a small smile before the Quartermaster disappeared down an aisle of barrels, boxes and other containers of supplies. The pair were left alone in the front of the tent, the Tevinter shifting awkwardly looking around before clearing his throat.
"So-ah, what sort of situation did you keep me from walking into?" he asked, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"I'm not really certain myself," the woman said leaning against the counter fiddling with the fabric wrap that covered her hands as makeshift fingerless gloves. "All I know is that Sera has been snagging the scrap bins from the cook for the past three days. I saw her rigging something up around the door about twenty minutes ago. Imagination filled in the rest and it wasn't looking good―or hygienic." the man grimaced.
"Then I owe you my thanks, my lady." he said with a smile. "I'm sorry I didn't get your name."
"Rheya, I was Haven's only healer before this mess. Now I'm simply one of many." she said gesturing at the ceiling of the tent and the sky above. "As for owing me, help me get these supplies back to my hut and we will call it even."
"Cremisius Aclassi, Lieutenant of the Bull's Chargers. A pleasure to meet you Serah Rheya."
"Likewise, Aclassi-Finiarel." Rheya said with a polite incline of her head as she pushed off the counter to make way for Threnn who set two crates on the counter followed by a third and fourth after making another trip back into the stacks.
"That's the lot." the quartermaster said signing something into her log before passing it to the Healer to sign and hand back. "this one is Adan's the rest are yours." tapping the crate at the top of the two Rheya moved to pick up.
"Thank you." She said as Aclassi moved to pick up the other stack of crates, exiting the tent out into the chilly Haven afternoon.
"Are you a native of Tevinter, by any chance?" the red-head asked leading the way across the courtyard.
"Yes, that isn't a problem is it?" Cremisius asked cautiously.
"Not at all," Rheya stated, with a friendly smile, "just been awhile since I've heard the accent. I used to live there some years back and while not a native I still have family there."
"Oh, where are you from? Your accent isn't Orlesian or Ferelden or any other I have heard."
"I'm a traveler by nature, I've been to many places and speak a few languages; I think it's somewhat blurred into an accent all my own I'm afraid." she said with a small smirk. The trip to her hut was not long and soon the pair were relieved of their burdens in the main room, it was surprisingly barren of patience at the moment given her work load had been greatly relieved since Mother Giselle had arrived.
"Just put them over here," Rheya said, setting her load on a table that had been cleared just for the purpose. "Rena!" she called to the Elven girl who came running in from the back room drying her hands on her work smock.
"Yes, Rhe?" she asked glancing from her mentor to the heavily armored man who had just placed his crates on the table top.
"Can you take this to Adan, he is expecting it." Rheya said, handing the girl the crate. "careful on the steps, it's glassware." the girl nodded before heading out the door.
"Thank you again, Aclassi-Finiarel." She said sincerely, hanging her head scarf and shawl in their proper hooks on the wall before dragging a hand tiredly through her red locks pushing them out of the way, being left loose for the day given her lack of patience. "You saved me from having to make a bunch of trips to get all this."
"It was my pleasure and please call me Krem."
"Then you must call me Rheya." she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind a pointed ear. "Now what brings you to Haven, Krem. You said you were a Lieutenant with the Bull's Chargers. Is that a mercenary group of some kind?"
"Yes, we mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra. I was sent with some information about some Tevinter mercenaries, but no one has been able to point me at who is in charge around here."
"Ah, that's a topic up for debate right now. You might try Commander Rutherford, he's in charge of the soldiers or Lady Nightingale the Spymaster. Lady Montilyet is the Inquisition's ambassador; though I believe she deals more with negotiations with the nobles, not with mercenary groups."
"What about the one everyone is calling the Herald of Andraste, I was under the impression he was running the Inquisition."
"More like a figurehead who runs errands for them." Rheya muttered with an exasperated sigh, "Trevelyan is away at the moment, last I heard he was somewhere in Orlais. I expect he will be back soon but if you want you might check with Sera, the blond elf from earlier or Lady Vivienne in the Chantry. They were the last to see him."
"I will," Krem said with a nod and a smile, "thank you again."