Four Days Later… Three miles outside of Redcliffe.
Song Choice: (Don't Fear) The Reaper – Blue Öyster Cult
"A book?" Jade asked disbelieving, more occupied with the bowl of stew Morrigan cooked up an hour or so earlier.
"Yes, but that's not the point. There are writings in it, writings that speak of… the Skeleton Key. Something Azra had a great interest in. I remember Azra being transfixed by it before I hopped on out of the tower." Adrian explained, having woken far too early this morning with the curiosity to read, now sitting across from Jade, who he thought was barely listening to him. And he would be right, she found all this talk of magic hard to digest—not very well knowing where to place her feet down in the conversation.
"Alright, but why does this matter? Aren't you happy he willed these things to you—things he obviously cared about before his passing?" Jade questioned, not seeing the reason for Adrian's… eccentrics.
He sighed, realizing he was speaking too fast for someone unexperienced with the world of magic and the Fade to grip onto so easily. He'd gotten used to talking with Morrigan about things of this nature in recent weeks, and more recently, Wynne. "There's more… than just the book, I mean. In the chest, there was a false bottom, presumably to keep those things from being found should the templar's find a way to open the thing, yes?" Jade nodded in response. "Under it, there were two books. The first, is the book that contains information regarding the use of a staff he also wished for me to have—a user's manual of sorts, and a writ containing clues to the whereabouts of the Skeleton Key." Adrian paused once more. "The second, a tome that Morrigan had asked me to get from the tower, while the residents were occupied. About halfway in, I honestly forgot about the damn thing, truth told…" Jade chuckled a bit at that, turning her eyes to the fire for a moment before Adrian chose to continue. "Now. Tell me, exactly how does the very book I was requested to find on my return to the tower—something I never thought I'd do in forever-and-a-half—find its way into the box that contained all the items my former mentor wished be to have… in the event I ever returned, with no possible way to predict the events that took place that night?"
He let her think for a moment, now absorbed into the conversation. "I-I don't know…"
"Okay… Now, what if I told you that he was an augur?" Adrian responded, as if the term was as everyday as 'bread'.
"What's that?" Jade asked, falling into confusion once more.
He huffed to himself, backtracking his chain of thought. "An augur, is a title given to those who possess an extremely rare magical ability to see into the future—a clairvoyant."
Jade seemed almost to drop her bowl before catching it and carefully setting it on the log seat she herself was sitting on. "R-really? C-can he tell us how to defeat the archdemon? Do we even survive? I-I mean… did he tell you?"
Adrian laughed softly to himself. "No… unfortunately it takes much energy, and he could only do it to one person at any given time. Hell, even that sent him into a stupor for nearly a week anytime he used it." Adrian paused, swallowing hard. "He… kept it a secret, even from the other mages, except for Irving and myself. He thought as his apprentice, I should know… However, he promised that he'd never use it on me… Seems the damn coot lied after all." Another pause. "He saw my future. He knew I'd come back, knew I'd join up with you lot despite all the odds, knew Morrigan would ask for the tome… and he prepared accordingly." Adrian finished, with spite clearly on his tongue.
"I'm sorry…" Jade said, unsure of how to continue, feeling as if she was walking on top of a bed of nails with only sheet separating her skin from the puncture.
He sobered himself quickly enough though, resuming the previous topic of conversation. "Nevertheless, that brings me to my main point. I don't think he's dead."
At that, Jade's caution turned to blindsided confusion at his blatant denial. "Um… I'm not sure that's possible, Adrian."
He took a stick and stuck the coals of the fire, earning a golden wind of sparks that rose from them. "Not by conventional means, no. But I think… his experiments led him to… displace himself." At Jade's loss of words, Adrian decided to move away from that particular subject. "And, because of that, I'd ask to… leave and take a few of us on a branch team… to seek out the Key."
"You've got to be having me on…" Jade said, laughing to herself.
"Look, the Key could and would, provide us an undeniable and inalienable advantage against the darkspawn—an edge. One we desperately need, wouldn't you say, love?" Adrian retorted, no sign of humor in his words. She knew he was serious, and nearly couldn't believe it.
"And just how exactly would it do that?" Jade inquired, no longer entertained by the conversation.
"Because of synchronicity, love! The Key is said to open any and all locks it encounters… and more." Adrian gathered his thoughts, not entirely sure of how to continue, to explain his mission to the unknowing. "It is also said to unlock metaphysical things as well. Including one's own full potential, and… produce gateways to other worlds, though I have no idea how it can achieve that. But I think that might be what Azra was experimenting with and what-" Adrian stopped short. "If he saw into my future, knew what was going to happen, then he might've… I don't know, hid the damnable thing somewhere, but there are clues. I've seen them—connected them. But… I need help, Jade. I need to do this, but I won't ask you away from your quest, I realize it's too important to abandon completely but…"
Jade about spoke up in furious tone, prepared to lambaste the man for such an impertinent request. And maybe that's what she should've done. But upon seeing his glassy eyes, shadowed by the heaviness of guilt, from a man who struck her only as a slippery, self-centered bastard if she was to be completely truthful with herself. "I… I just don't know how I'm supposed to say 'yes' to that , Adrian… I'm sorry." She said wearily, getting up to walk back to her tent, only for her wrist to be grabbed gently.
"At least say you'll think about it…" Adrian pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn her sympathy.
"I… Okay." She replied softly, wrenching her hand from his grip.
#
"Right then, time for contingency…" Adrian trailed to himself, walking back to his tent and opening the flaps, lowing himself into it, and picking up the book with the opal skull sewn into the red velvet cover with the three interconnected rings in the cavity where the concept organ would usually exist.
He turned the pages idly, but with an objective in mind, and so he kept on until he happened upon the page he'd seen earlier that day, one that piqued his interest something terrible. He flipped to it, passing the ten or so odd pages that had been seemingly ripped from the binding, yet another thing he found curious about the tome. Gazing upon his quarry its title read, 'Sympathetic Magic'. The book, a manual of use for the Balac-haine, detailed the experiments and findings of when the staff encountered shadow-energy… including Azra's own findings. During his apprenticeship, Adrian knew his mentor's passion was experimentation, though he was always extremely secretive about it… which, as it would to any impressionable child, led to feelings of neglect, and in turn to resentment. His biggest regret. But this… he might just find peace… Just maybe.
He shoved the thoughts away from his forward consciousness, and replaced it with thoughts of his stratagem. He needed a backup-plan, and this might just be the only way… should it all go to shit. Fuckin' 'ell… its mad. Dubious and mad, but I hopefully just mad enough to be sane. Adrian thought, picking up the staff at his left side and exiting the perimeter of his tent, looking around for anyone who might see him—seeing none, he stole away into the evening light that shaded the forest deeply for the long trek to Redcliffe.
#
The next morning…
"Mage." A voice like wood knocking on wood spoke up from the edge of his tent, not bothering to poke his head through.
"W-what?" Adrian replied half-asleep still, the morning blur turning him half-blind, too.
"The Warden ordered me to wake you. We are packing the camp. Get up." The man he identified as Sten beckoned, before he heard the deep footfalls leave his tent.
"Okay… game time."
#
After planting themselves outside Castle Redcliffe for a few hours, in waiting for Irving and his dispatched contingent of mages, meant to supply the magical energy needed to complete the ritual to free Connor from the desire demon's long grip, he arrived.
Adrian took the initiative and approached the group of mages, flanked by two templars. Very likely the same who had brought him his things the night before. "How much time do you need?"
"It will take time… we must be precise or… well you know the dangers of man interacting with the Fade. I shall gather the mages in the castle promptly," Irving declared. "A life is at stake."
Having an off-topic question formulate in his head, Adrian turned to Jade. "Where's the elf?"
"Tied up in a chair next to the wagon… just as you requested." She replied, unenthused.
"Gagged?"
"No."
"Damn!" Adrian exclaimed, snapping his fingers as the two walked into the main hall together.
They entered the main hall and found Morrigan waiting for them. "Adrian," the witch said quietly, marking one of the very few times she ever called him by his first name, or maybe it was the first… so much had happened recently he honestly wasn't sure. "I would ask something of you."
Adrian glanced at the mages that were preparing around them, noting that they were pointedly avoiding his eyes. "Better make it quick. What's on your mind, Swampy?" he said with a charming smile, not perceiving the gravity in her words yet.
"I..." She hesitated. "You realize the risk you run by confronting the demon directly."
"Possession, turned braindead, and possibly having my soul ripped apart at the seams." Adrian replied simply. "Why do you bring this up? This venture was your suggestion, remember?"
"I didn't anticipate it would be you making the journey," Morrigan snapped, before looking away.
Adrian didn't bother hiding his knowing smile. "So you do care."
"I care about completing this task," the witch insisted, crossing her arms in front of her. "Your being possessed would hinder that. So do not be stupid. Having to follow Alistair and the noble girl would be irritating."
"Morrigan," Adrian sobered, now grabbing hold of her tonal shift. "What is it you're asking?"
The witch paused, shifting her weight from one leg to the other for a few moments before looking him in the eyes. "I... Come back safe."
Adrian nodded stoically. "You have my word." He paused, realizing there was something to take care of while he still had time. "Before I go, there's something I've been meaning to do."
"That being?"
In response, Adrian leaned in, and Morrigan raised an eyebrow, waving her hands in front of her. "What's this? 'Tis a rather odd discussion you seem to desire, leaning in so closely."
He stopped, and spotted the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Do you object?"
"Not unless you stop," she replied playfully, moments before his lips met hers, impassioned, hers were warm. His were colder… in the knowing… but this was certainly a start—a foothold—something he could climb from.
It was electric. He wasn't one for holy music, but he heard a graceful choir began to sing and were quickly drowned out by the pounding in his ears as his blood raced, Morrigan's hand sliding into his hair and pulling him closer. Adrian wasn't sure how long they had been standing there, his arms around her waist, when someone cleared their throat off to his right. Holding out a hand, Adrian signaled the would-be interrupter to wait, and it felt like another day passed before he finally broke the kiss, noting with no small measure of satisfaction that Morrigan's lips were puffy and she seemed slightly dazed. He looked up, spotting Irving standing there looking deeply amused.
"Yes?" Adrian rasped, feeling as if he'd slept through an entire night without using his voice last.
"It's time."
#
Jade paced around nervously, feeling that it had been wrong of her to allow Adrian to be the one to go into the Fade, especially after what she had seen of him the last time they'd found themselves in the dream-realm.
"Only one person may go?" Jade inquired in her anxiety, confirming what she already knew with the senior mage.
"Yes. We haven't sufficient lyrium at present to send more than one mage into the Fade." He looked pointedly at Adrian. "Much of our stock was recently purchased. We only have enough lyrium for one attempt as it is," Irving went on, looking to Adrian as he disrobed his leather coat and vest leaving him in only a shirt in preparation for the ritual. "I hope you succeed. Such a young lad deserves better than execution."
"Let's get this done, then," Adrian said.
"I'm glad we decided to take this route," Alistair replied. "It really is the best option."
"It's the only option," Adrian growled, finding a particular change of tune within himself after all that transpired in the tower. "I'm not putting that kid to death."
"Very well," Irving said. "I assume you are going into the Fade. Or did you have someone else in mind?"
"No. Just me." Adrian replied immediately, glancing over at a clearly distressed Morrigan, trying her level best to conceal it… and failing.
The First Enchanter nodded. "Good. Let us get the ritual underway, then."
"Believe it or not," Adrian said, taking a seat on the stone floor in the middle of the chalked-out symbol. "This isn't the first time I've done this."
"What?" Alistair asked incredulously, standing clear as the Circle mages took places around Adrian. "What did you get up to at the Circle?"
Adrian gave him a boasting smile, trying not to look at the amount of lyrium being brought into the room. "Not having been a full-fledged Templar, you wouldn't know this, but every single Harrowed mage has faced down a demon and come out on top."
Alistair blinked in surprise. "You're joking."
The Magician shook his head. "Not in the least, mate. The Harrowing sends you into the Fade alone, and armed only with your knowledge of how to survive against a demon. I set the record for the quickest, cleanest Harrowing. Just so happens, I like killing the bastards—many times, I offered help in supernatural occurrences for coin before I threw in with this group, in the months after I escaped. So, while I've never had to slap the shit out of a demon so hard it un-possessed someone, I've got experience in fighting demons on their own turf."
"Glad we're sending an expert," Alistair muttered.
"You and me both," Adrian said, nodding to Irving. "Let's do it, First Enchanter."
"Good luck, child," the older man said.
Adrian winked at the grizzled wizard, forcing a grin. "Keep my seat warm. If I'm not back in fifteen minutes... just… wait longer."
"Come back to us, alright?" Leliana said, more ordered, shifting herself to the front to see the goings-on.
He nodded, and the mages started chanting, the lyrium in the buckets glowing brighter as their magic began to draw on it. Adrian closed his eyes, trying to relax. Then his eyes snapped open as the feeling like he had just been dropped into a barrel of icy water washed over him. The world dissolved into blinding white light, Adrian heard a ringing in his ears that was nearly deafening, and it felt like the world had dropped out from under him, sending him hurtling downwards.
#
The light faded, and Adrian sat up, his head spinning. Pulling himself to his feet unsteadily, he grunted, standing still for a moment and letting the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach settle before continuing. Putting his hand to his pocket instinctively, he felt around.
"Ugh, right, no flask." He groaned to no one in particular, instead, pulling out what looked to be a silver medallion. "But I've still got you—hope you're ready."
It only took a few minutes of wandering the Fade, apologizing to rocks he stumbled over or gnarled, blackened trees he passed by, before he found a person. Surprisingly, it wasn't Connor.
"Connor? Son, are you there?" Adrian looked over, spotting a bearded man with graying hair standing unnaturally still in the fog. "Help me!"
"Who are you?" Adrian asked, approaching the man cautiously, fully aware that this could be an ill-fated illusion.
"Hold, stranger," the man commanded. "I do not know you, nor where we are."
"You must be Arl Eamon," Adrian realized. "Look, my name is Adrian Konstantyne Amell. I'm a magician under the employ of the Grey Wardens. We're in the Fade."
"The Fade?" Eamon asked, flabbergasted. "The land of dreams and demons?"
Adrian nodded. "Have you seen your son?"
"My son?" Eamon said, his eyes glazing over. "Connor...my son...it's been so long since I've seen him..."
Adrian cleared his throat, realizing he was on a time limit. "You need to focus. Connor. Where is Connor?"
"I don't know...this blasted fog, I tried to find him and I always wind up here!"
"Connor is in danger! Your son is in danger, old man, and if you don't tell me where he is all of this is bull's bollocks."
Immediately the Arl's eyes cleared and he snapped alert. "Where is my son?"
"I'm asking you that, you old coot!"
"Sometimes, I can hear his voice," Eamon said. "But I cannot find him. This blasted fog has me turning in circles! He can't be far, can he?"
"Probably not," Adrian replied uneasily, at the same time coming to the conclusion that he should let the Arl know of his son's condition. "The Fade is odd like that. Arl...your son is a mage."
The Arl's eyes widened. "Connor, a mage?" he asked. "How do you know?"
"Because he made a deal with a demon to save your life after you were poisoned. I'm here to kill that demon and save your son." Adrian shifted his weight uneasily. "Eamon...if I kill the demon, there's a chance that you may die. Thought it only fair that you should know."
"Connor comes first," Eamon replied firmly, grabbing Adrian by the collar of his shirt. "You hear me? Connor comes first! If his freedom means my death, then that is a price I'm willing to pay. I will not lose my son to some blasted demon!" He stepped forward, grabbing Adrian by the shoulders. "You give me your word, magician. If the choice comes between my son or I, you pick my son."
Adrian's face softened, looking to the ground below him. "You have my word."
The Arl nodded. "Find my son, Sir. Bring him home."
His path was clear. There was only one way to go, the Fade being the mess of floating islands and narrow pathways between high ridges that it was. The mage groaned when he saw a purple field floating in an arch. Sighing, he reached out and touched the field, feeling the magic of the portal pulling him across the Fade.
Adrian staggered forward a step as he emerged from the other side, the portal turning black behind him. Pushing on through the next path, the mage headed up a hill and around a giant tower that looked to have bone growing out of it.
Ahead, he spotted a chair and a bed sitting at the edge of the island. And next to them, a young boy.
"Don't suppose you're actually Connor?" Adrian casually questioned as he approached.
"Who are you?" The boy challenged. Adrian's eyes narrowed as he heard the deep voice of the demon again. "Are you the one that made Father ill? Tell me now!"
"It wasn't me," Adrian replied "Are you truly Connor's spirit, or the demon in disguise?"
"You could be a demon too!" Connor shot back. "You could be a demon that just looks like a person!"
He opened his mouth to retort, before considering the point. "All right, that's true. And you could be a guardian of this realm, meant to confuse me. Let's reason this out calmly."
"Fool!" the boy snapped, his eyes turning black. "You won't get near her! I won't let you!" The boy fell to his knees, his form snapping back and forth between a human boy and the well-endowed and horned form of a Desire demon. It didn't finish the transformation, the mage freezing it solid and shattering it with a hammer made of shadow-energy named 'Sunder'. Rolling his eyes, Adrian turned and headed back down the path, finding the portal reactivated.
"You know, it would be in your best interest to help me navigate this place, right?" Adrian questioned at the medallion now in his hand.
"Of course, but this isn't my pocket, I wouldn't know this place any better than you'd know the alleyways of Minrathous. She has made quite the labyrinth for herself here, hasn't she?" Beroul replied, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Adrian.
"Maybe Eamon has some idea of where to go," The mage muttered, touching the portal and finding himself in a completely new location. Making his way down another path, he curled around a narrow turn. "I suppose it's lucky this demon has so little control over Connor – if it was more powerful, I could spend days in here."
"Why do you keep hurting me?" A voice demanded. Adrian jumped, spotting another Connor standing off to his left. "Why are you trying to stop me?"
"I don't know, mostly because you're killing people, you frantic bitch!" He snapped. "Let the boy go, and you won't get hurt." He lied.
"You will not find what you seek!" The boy insisted. "Turn back now!
"Okay…" He laughed lowly to himself. "You wouldn't urge me to turn back if you didn't fear I'd find you," Adrian pointed out. "Stay right where you are. I'm coming for you."
"Trespasser!" The boy howled. "I will drive you out!" The demon didn't make it any farther than the last one did, even with a minor demon of hunger that clawed its way through the ground backing it up.
Hooking back around through the same portal, Adrian glared at the sky as he found himself in another new location. "This is getting old. Quick." Spotting another Connor standing next to a bookshelf and a bed, Adrian approached, glaring. "You know, the more you try to delay me, the more likely I am to just kill you when I find you."
"Father wanders, seeking me, trapped within my web," the demon replied in Connor's voice. "All is as it should be. Why must you interfere?"
"Because I need Arl Eamon awake and well," Adrian replied. "Because you interfere where you should not. And mostly because I'm entirely fucking finished allowing this demon to continue propping up her delusional bullshit!"
"No," Connor replied, clearly not listening. "It is time for you to go now. Do not persist, or things will go very badly for you."
"Oh, sod off, ya twit!" the mage groaned, casting a spell and turning the demon's mana against it as the demon transformed, wiping out both it and a pair of rage demons it brought to the fight.
A final trip through the portal let Adrian out on another path that fed into an open clearing, several twisted trees scattered around the edges. The magician spotted a Desire demon's true form in the clearing and manifested his dagger that quickly ignited in red flame.
The demon turned as he approached. Adrian kept his eyes on the demon's face and not on the free-hanging breasts. "Very well, Konstantyne" the demon purred. "No more illusions. Now we meet face to face. You see my true form and stand in my domain."
"Bit of a shithole, innit?" Adrian asked lightly, glancing around.
#
"Before we continue, I wanted to take this time to congratulate you on succeeding in your scheme of incapacitating me. Quite clever, indeed." The demon flattered. "Now, to the meat of it. It is here I am most powerful, and yet I have no wish to engage your power. Nor should you be so eager to engage mine," the demon warned. "Perhaps we should converse instead?"
"And what, exactly, could I possibly have to talk to you about?" Adrian asked lightly. "Besides what you would like done with your remains if you don't let Connor go."
"I possess the boy's soul," the demon explained. "We could battle for it, or we could negotiate like civilized beings. If you are smart, you could even come out ahead." She smiled faintly. "Perhaps there are things you wish for. Let us pause and speak of them. It costs nothing but a moment of your time."
Adrian could feel a tugging at his mind as the demon's magic tried to influence him. "I'm willing to talk," the mage replied finally.
"Idiot man." Beroul spoke telepathically to him, his insult falling on deaf ears. "Negotiate if you will, but do not overreach…" The entrapped demon cautioned.
"Good. I prefer reasonable negotiation, whenever possible," the demon said soothingly. "Your goal is for me to release the boy's soul, is that right?" Adrian nodded. "What if you could persuade me to leave voluntarily? No fuss and no bloodshed."
"And why would you do such a thing?" Adrian asked.
"So you will at least, consider it? Let me make a proposition, then," The demon offered.
"I don't fuck demons," Adrian replied immediately. "I've been propositioned by many people, but I've got some standards."
The demon blinked in confusion for a few moments. "My proposition is this. I abandon the boy... for now. But I retain the contract he and I made, and many years from now I may return and claim what is mine. This will be long after whatever you want is done. In exchange, I will provide something of value to you. Something you desire. We both benefit. What say you?"
"I have a counter-offer," Adrian suggested.
"I'm all ears," the demon said gleefully.
Adrian focused, the flames of his dagger roaring. Fixing the demon with a withering glare, he kept his tone hard. "How about you release the boy's soul, leave, never return, and in exchange I don't atomize you right here and now."
The demon paused. "Such vitriol from a man alone, in a realm not your own. What possesses you so?"
"This." Adrian countered with stone-hard tone. Tossing the silver medallion in the air as if he was flipping a coin for a bet. The runes engraved into it began to glow a bright blue as it soared. A second later, it landed, a bright white light emitting, and from it, formed Beroul.
The demon's amethyst eyes stared up in paralytic horror at Beroul, who towered above her voluptuous, but far smaller form.
"I told you once about named demons—the big swinging cocks in the room—This is Beroul, as I'm sure you're already aware." Adrian gloated; a wide, mischievous smile plastered on his face.
"Yes… You see little one… this is just business." The much larger demon added, tugging proudly at the ends of his oversized suit-like jacket.
"N-No! Wait! We can neg-negotiate! We can talk! Don't be unreasonable!" The desire demon exclaimed for her life. "I'll leave! Never return! You can have the boy!"
"Yeah… Five minutes ago, that would've satisfied me but… too little, too late." Adrian said darkly. "Besides, I've got a deal to uphold." He finished looking to Beroul's voraciously hungry eyes.
Beroul approached the desire demon, sliding his hands anywhere he pleased on her body. "First, I'll have your body…" He grabbed firmly on her shoulder. "THEN YOUR SOUL!" His roared with his inhuman gravatas.
"Now Beroul!" Adrian yelled, ordering Beroul to uphold his side of the deal. The fleshy demon began to pull apart the desire demon, separating her essence from the soul of Connor. It was clearly a strong link, even if the desire demon possessed little control, and Beroul strained, realizing that he would have to separate both souls from the host body to relive the boy of the demonic influence, sewing the boy's soul back to his body after the fact. After a few more minutes, Beroul opened a rift and tossed the unconscious desire demon's body into it.
"That, will be for later… For now, business must be concluded." Beroul said to himself with a sly smile that extended over his fleshy face far too much for it to be considered human. He came over to the bed where Conner lied unconscious and placed his hands on the boy's chest.
Adrian, foolishly ignorant, felt that the job was done. He was completely unaware of Beroul's actions and turned around, shocked. "Beroul! What are you doing?!"
"Fashioning a proposal." The demon replied as Adrian began to feel himself reel back to consciousness.
He started to float up and away from the island where Beroul stood, continuing on, but not without waving his very favorite business partner goodbye. "Goddamn it! Beroul, you rat-bastard!"
"Don't worry! We'll see each other again soon!" Beroul yelled back, still waving.
#
Song Choice: Got It On Me – Pop Smoke
Adrian's eyes shot open. Panicked, he sat up far too quickly for his own good, and immediately felt the repercussions of being wrenched from the Fade, puking a bit to the side of himself as he crawled to find his satchel. He thought he could hear the faintest sound of voices, but they were all fuzzy, but he could tell they were loud , probably yelling. Undaunted, he soldiered-on grabbing the strap of his satchel just barely and pulling the thing over to him. He had a plan, but he wasn't sure if his body would permit him to act on it fast enough. And it needed to be fast, otherwise… the boy would be slave to Beroul forever. When he was being tossed away from his subconscious mind, he pieced together what Beroul had done. Separated the souls though he did, he absorbed the power of the Desire demon, and let his own essence flood the void that now lied within Connor. Which, in all reality, he should have thought of beforehand. It was stupid of him not to, but he had one more thing in mind—saved just encase the bastard pulled something like this. Out of his satchel, the mage pulled what looked to be a doll, made of potato-sack and with two different-colored buttons for eyes, and capped with a tuft of hair.
"Gotcha…" he muttered through the drool flowing freely from his mouth. There was a crash, and then through blurred vision, he could see the figures around him turn to guard. "He's coming." Just then, Connor came floating through the main hall. Adrian stumbled to his feet, wiping away the drool and doing his level-best to stand up straight. "And a round of applause for the band…"
A voice, far deeper than that of the previous demon emerged from the floating boy's body, his eyes now glowing a bright orange. "I like 'em without seasoning, Adrian. Guess I didn't make that clear."
"Adrian! What is this!" Irving yelled, before Connor released a telekinetic blast, knocking away all those except for Adrian.
Breathing heavily, the mage returned his vision to the floating boy. The boy of small frame then blitzed the full-grown man, grabbing him by the throat, and lifting him in the air. Observing the doll still dropped by the man, the demonic boy was confused, but upon reconsidering Adrian's nature, of which he knew well, he sneered at the man. "You're fucking with what is mine, I know it! Tell me why—" He stopped, looking around at all the collapsed individuals that surrounded them. "—Or I'll use your skull as my personal fuck-sock."
Now choking on the very little air he was able to suck in, Adrian replied. "That's—the frowsiest threat-I've ever heard. A skull's got—holes in it, you berk!"
Clenching harder, feeling the tightened muscles in Adrian's neck begin to become soft, Beroul continued. "Amell…"
"Guuh! All right, mate! All right!"
Now getting up from the concussive force, Jade rushed the demon, jumping and tackling the demon boy away from Adrian. Falling from the grip of the freakishly strong boy-demon. Speedily picking up the doll again, he looked around and saw everyone taking the opening Jade had created, surrounding the creature.
"We must kill it!" Sten yelled out.
"No! I've got this!"
"Adrian-!" Alistair beckoned.
"NO! Let me handle it!"
"Ah, the meat-bags have risen, then… very interesting." Beroul commented, looking at the force that had risen in front of him.
"Right." Adrian approached, rubbing his throat. "That blast took a bunch out of you, I'd guess—doubt you'll be using that again, Beroul. But you're still a force to be reckoned with… So, let's do some talking…"
"Beroul?!" Jade exclaimed, before being batted away by the demon-child.
The demon paused, humming to himself, pondering the idea. "Fine. Though I don't see much of a way you get out of here alive."
"Mhm, everything's coming up big red roses, I know." The mage paused. "So here's how the script goes now, right? We shake hands, wipe away a sentimental tear. And you hop out that boy's body and piss all the way off to a cemetery or some shit."
The demon replied with only a low, slow laugh, still no one quite willing to launch an attack. "Ooh, Adrian… I've always admired your gall—even when your backed into the corner—even when the situation is hopeless." The demon caught its breath. "The boy's mine, Amell. End of story. I don't share, and I don't give back what I take…"
Lifting the doll into clear view, Adrian spoke again. "Well then. I'm going to have to kill you, Mister Jolly-o-Man."
"You forget yourself, boy. I'm not just some upstart demon, scrabbling in the dirt of some human soul in some backwater countryside home." Beroul went on, growing more and more absorbed into Adrian's talk, just as he'd like it. "I am Beroul. I am a real fucking demon!"
Adrian pursed his lips and nodded. "Great stuff. Really." He stopped, giving a few dramatic seconds for the theatrics to really set in. "I'm the Laughing Magician—" Stopped again. "—and I'm a right bastard."
The boys hand lifted, pointing at the doll in the mage's hands. "You mean to threaten me with a child's toy?"
"For your information, his name is Huggable Harry." The mage grasped at the hair of the doll, calling attention to it. "And no, it's this little tuft of hair I'm threatening you with, of course, in combination with a particularly odious little malediction I took the liberty of naming, 'Anacrusis'. Sympathetic Magic, heard of it? Links the being of the target in question to an effigy. In other words, anything I do to the doll, is done to the boy. As for the hair, you see… it's his…" Adrian revealed lighting a flame in his hands.
"A fetish." The demon realized.
"Top marks."
It growled at him in anger, likely coming to the conclusion that the negotiation had truly commenced. "I may inhabit the body of a child, Amell, but you'd be wise to not mistake me for one. Your aim throughout this whole charade has been to save the boy. There is no conceivable circumstance in which you'd kill him to get to me. You're bluffing, boy."
"Kill him?! Adrian, what is he talking about!" Leliana yelled out.
Ignoring her, he continued, he needed eye-contact for this, the most delicate part. The final act. "And just where were you thinking of taking him? The Orlesian fucking festival-grounds?" He stopped, considering the possible ramifications of what he was about to do, and doing it anyway. Lifting his flaming hand to the hair of the doll, the fire started to crisp and crackle, beginning to overtake the hair. "Besides, he's dead anyway, Beroul."
Alistair charged the mage at hearing that, "No! Andraste, Adrian, don't-!"
"At least this way its clean."
Thinking of no other way to stop him, Alistair took his metal-gloved hand delivered a righteous blow to the mage's face. Falling over, Alistair stood above him. "You killed him! You killed him! You bloody killed him!"
Hearing a light-toned groan emerge from the floor near where the two were at, Alistair looked over. "Mother? Mother? Where is mother?" Connor said rubbing his head. Alistair quickly ran over to the boy and embraced him, ordering the others to get Teagan and Isolde to see their son, overjoyed, though. not yet even sure of what had just transpired.
"Bloody hell! Surely, you've heard of horse hair, haven't you, Alistair?" Adrian said, rubbing his jaw.
"Y-You bluffed the demon out of his body." Leliana said, flabbergasted at what she'd just seen, marking the second time she'd seen something beyond incredible from the Magician. "You played Wicked Grace with his life." The lay-sister reprimanded.
"…No that wasn't Wicked Grace. Wicked Grace's lot more subtle. That was Chicken." Adrian said getting up from the ritual circle and beginning to walk away and out the door of the castle, not a one daring to speak to the him.
"And I bloody won, didn't I?"
#
Some Hours Later…
Sitting on the side of the bridge leading towards the castle after having spent the last few hours sorting things out with Sten and getting a couple of drinks at the tavern to ease his throbbing head, Adrian looked out to the orange light reflecting off the clouds on the horizon, letting the gentle breeze that came off Lake Calenhad roll though his swept-back hair. Looking to his side, he thought it appropriate to continue his current conversation with Jade.
"I still don't understand how you got Beroul into that charm."
"Picked it up off some mad wizard who planned to orchestrate a very one-sided murder-suicide pact with The Maker. Had the thing in his collection. It was something I planned to use… later on. To take down a particularly nasty tosser by the name of Nergal…" His tone grew somber, remembering Elaine. "He was responsible for Elaine's death… but my arrogance was just as much at fault." He paused, breathing deeply, Jade deciding to stay silent and letting Adrian let it out. "I've been responsible for one death… one I've yet to repent for…" He laid his new staff across his lap. "I'm not one to rack up debt, love. And Azra's given me clues and maybe… just maybe… he's still out there, waiting." He turned his eyes to hers. "I need to do this, Jade. And honestly… I'd usually cut loose and leave on my own accord but…" his voice faded. "I respect you… So, I'd like your blessing."
"Adrian, I…"
He grasped her hand, looking her deeply in the eyes. "Please… Jade."
She broke. "I… Alright."
He smiled, patting her hand with his right. "Thank you. Really."
"On one condition." Jade added.
"Okay—shoot."
Jade smiled just so slightly. "If you're going to be taking some of the others with you, take Zevran."
Adrian groaned, thinking in that moment that he'd very much like to abandon the mission right then and there. "The elf? Fine."
"Who else do you have in mind? Jade asked, wanting to be aware of whom she'd have to contend with… and who she'd be without.
"Sten, the happy bastard."
"'Happy bastard?" Jade parroted.
"Yeah, I've spent the past few hours arguing with a stubborn, bastard dwarf named, Dwyn to give Sten back his sword. He was so grateful that I got the damn blade for him, when I asked if he'd join it was almost an instant, 'yes'. I even think I saw him smile. Honestly, I've never known him so fucking cheerful, it's bizarre."
"Anyone else?"
"Outside of the assassin? No. But I've already have a wagon counted among my assets." Adrian informed the Warden.
"Oh? How'd you come by that?"
"Teagan and Isolde felt guilty that they'd given me nothing but grief since I arrived. It was quite easy to negotiate for a simple wagon. In a few hours, we'll be off and gone. Tomorrow probably."
"Then I wish you luck, Adrian… I hope you find what you're looking for. And remember to come home with something to give us an edge against the darkspawn."
"Of course, your highness…" Adrian mocked, standing from he'd been sitting.
#
The Next Day…
"Are we prepared, mage?" Sten said loading the last of his things into the back of the covered wagon, already stuffed quite full of bags and other miscellaneous odds and ends Adrian was sure he hadn't put there, or seen Sten do.
Passing it off as nothing of note, the leather-coated mage nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I think so."
"What about the elven man?" Sten reminded.
Adrian groaned, rubbing his face, exasperated. "Right… the elf. Go get him for me, would you? And make sure his binds are still on right—and that he's eaten today."
It was only a few moments since Sten's disappearance before Adrian uncorked his flask and took a couple long swigs from it, before the hulking qunari came sauntering up the hill with a body slumped over his shoulder.
"You know, you are quite a strong man Sten… you must attract all sorts of attention with those big arms of your—" Zevran started, before Sten slammed him down with intentional force in the back of the wagon, on the wood, in one of the very few clear spaces left. The elf grunted in a flash of pain.
"Fuck's sake, who took out your gag?" Adrian rasped, recovering from the strong alcohol. "Oh… right… no gag."
Turning to Adrian with his usually blank expression, Sten voiced his concern. "Must we truly travel with the mewling elf?"
"Sorry, mate. It's how the missus ordered it." Adrian replied sarcastically, keeping his eyes on Sten. "Has he eaten?"
"He has—"
"-I have" Zevran replied simultaneously.
"Good. We'll make sure to give you water at proper times throughout the day."
Zevran nodded, smiling softly, "Yes, yes, it's all very gracious of you, but I feel it's only fair to ask…" the assassin trailed. "When would it be possible to negotiate the terms of my release, at least from these binds—they're starting to rub red."
"Sometime…" Adrian said, walking away and over to the seat of the wagon, mirrored by Sten who was more than happy to put distance between himself and the overly-chatty elf.
"Halt!" The word was heard just as the wagon wheels were squeaking into motion. Slinking to the side of the wagon, placing herself perfectly within Adrian's view was Morrigan. "I'm joining you."
The mage rubbed his face, and let out a sigh, having to explain to yet another person why he wasn't bringing along anyone else. "No. You're needed here; they need an offensive mage… and a woman who knows what real magic is like. They wouldn't make it a day without you—"
"—But—"
"—You said it yourself!" He gestured to the woman whose expression had fallen into a pout as she averted her gaze away from him and crossed her arms.
After some moments to allow Morrigan to make her argument Adrian and Sten sat in silence. "I… feel you'll need my help. If you're in search of an old obscure occult artifact, I think there's no one better here to join you than me. Would you disagree?"
He opened his mouth to spill out an ill-thought retort, before shutting his mouth after considering. But he just couldn't drag her on this… fool's errand. It was so his conscience would stop screaming in his ear, not hers. "No, Morrigan. I can't put you through that. You'd be better-served with Jade and the rest. Plus…" He faded, giving a warm smile. "They've got a dog."
With no further retort from her, the wheels squeaked on into full rotation, pulling them away from the witch who looked longingly at the wagon drifting along the dirt.
#
Song Choice: Lola Montez – Volbeat
It was nearly two hours into the ride before Adrian found himself thirsty, dehydrated even. "We got any water in the back?" he asked the stoic man who bore an uncanny resemblance to a wall of stone, even down to the color of his skin.
"I wasn't aware you drank water." Sten replied.
Adrian had already turned around and hunched over the wooden seating, straining against his breath to find water amongst the things, but he reeled, dumbfounded, looking Sten back directly in the eyes. "Did you just make a joke?"
Without even turning his gaze to him, keeping his unfaltering eyes on the road, he replied. "No."
Adrian felt a smile tugging at his lips, seeing Sten embarrassed that his jest had been called. "…Okay." Adrian said, bridging the gap between subjects. "Now where's the damn water jug?"
"The back left, I assume." Sten directed.
Reaching over he saw the fat cork stuffed into the top of the baked-clay jug, buried under a few other objects. Blankets, tenting material, fastenings, and a few other things he was certain he didn't put in there… Straining over, he pushed them aside and was taken aback. Hidden under the various odds lied a perfectly black cat with a purple collar and shockingly golden eyes, when its turned its attention to him. He smiled at it, knowing he'd been outplayed, and surmising that Morrigan had already packed her things in the wagon even before they'd left. He pulled out the jug and covered the cat with a soft blanket, not making a peep more about it.
"Where are we headed, mage?" Sten spoke up after a few silent minutes. It nearly startled the mage, who had been hypnotized by the creaking of the wagon and the dripping of the water from the melting snow.
Pulling out his book with the opal skull and red-velvet cover, along with a drawn-up map of Ferelden. "Originally, I thought the annotations Azra made were cluing us in to Lothering. I was wrong." Adrian paused, flipping through the pages. "I'm fairly certain, now, that we should make our way to Honnleath…" The mage finished with a displeased sigh.
"You know of this place?" Sten asked.
"I do. Last time I was there I got chased out by the locals and hunted by templars for near-on three days." Adrian explained, leaning back on the wooden seating.
Well… this should be interesting if nothing else. He thought to himself, looking out to the snow-covered trees and sky blanketed in white.