The Way of Shadow: Part II
Rajmael woke with a horrific pain in his head after having a horrible nightmare. He dreamt that Nethras was still alive, leading followers of the Vir Banal'ras, and he kicked him in the face after neutralizing all his allies, and Marquis Briala. It had to have been a dream; he buried Nethras right next to Evanura two years ago. Rajmael tried to shake the nightmare from his mind, but when he felt the throbbing pain of his dislodged jaw and shattered cheekbone he realized it was no dream.
Rajmael was blindfolded and his hands were bound, but all he could think of at the moment was the horrible pain his face was in. He concentrated his magic inward and focused on mending his bones and healing his muscles. Under most circumstance, a bound and blinded man would panic when he was captured. He fight against his restraints and try to escape, but Rajmael had to play it safe. Just like when he was training to be an Arcane Warrior, he had to be aware of everything that was going on around him.
He was blindfolded and bound with his arms wrapped tightly around his body to the point he couldn't move them and he could feel that they were being carried in a wagon. No, not a wagon. Wagons can't navigate through forests. They had to be moving in an aravel, only Dalish wagons can move discreetly through the forest undetected. Rajmael wasn't in there alone, some of his companions were with him. He could hear the familiar sound of Cassandra's labored breath, and Sera struggling vainly against whatever bonds were holding her. Judging from that distinctive scent of Orlesian perfume, Rajmael thought Vivienne must be here, but he realized that was not Vivienne's brand, it must have been Briala. And Rajmael could hear Varric trying to move around.
"Cassandra, I can't see anything. What's going one?" Rajmael asked.
"After that masked assassin…er, neutralized you, those elves disarmed and bound us, then hauled us into these wagons. I have no idea where they're taking us." Cassandra answered.
"Sera, Varric, can either of you spring your bonds?"
Sera only gave a muffled, pissed off grunt.
"What Sera means to say, Inquisitor, is 'no'." Varric responded. "They gagged her after the first two minutes. I guess they don't like the sound of her voice. But these elves are smart. They tied one hand behind my head and the other behind my back with ropes, and with the knots facing towards my elbows, so I can't untie them. They did the same thing with Briala. They trussed up Sera like a Wintersend turkey."
"Where are the others?"
"They still got Iron Bull by the horns, literally." Varric answered humorously . "They tied his hands behind his back and then lashed those ropes to his horns, making it so Tiny can't move his head or his hands. They're dragging Blackwall behind their halla, I don't think he'll make a move and risk the rest of us."
"What about our mage friends?"
"The elves placed them in separate wagons." Cassandra answered. "They are smart to want to keep the mages away from each other."
"We're in aravels, not wagons, Cassandra." Rajmael casually corrected.
"What?" Cassandra asked incredulously.
"Calling and aravel a wagon is like calling a dragon a lizard. They're similar, but they are nothing alike. It's actually insulting." Rajmael explained satrically.
"We have been taken prisoner by hostile Dalish assassins, who may be behind severe acts of terrorism, and all you can think of is the distinction between carriages?!" Briala asked critically.
"I'm not sure these guys are actually Dalish." Varric pointed out. "I got a good look at some of their faces, and not all of them were tattooed."
"Somehow I don't think that's very important to them." Cassandra groaned. "Rajmael, you can make yourself incorporeal right? Can you slip your binds?"
"I could, but I'm not going to." Rajmael answered blithely.
"What!?" Everyone asked.
"Everyone, relax. We're still in this." Rajmael assured. "Dalish or not, if these guys wanted us dead, they wouldn't have bothered taking us prisoner. This may lead us to the answers we've been seeking."
"Do you have a plan then?" Cassandra asked.
"The Vir Banal'ras didn't capture all of us." Rajmael answered. "We've still got Cole."
"Who?" Briala asked confusedly.
Sera grunted disapprovingly beneath her gag.
"No one can see Cole unless he wants them to, and if he can travel from Theirinfall Redoubt all the way to Haven ahead of the Red Templars, then I know he can follow us. With luck he'll be our way out of capture." The Inquisitor explained. "But for now, I want you all to stay calm, and don't do anything unless I say so. Maybe I can reason with…whoever it is that leads them."
"I've got to ask, Inquisitor: what happened back there?" Varric inquired. "I mean, I've seen you mow through a whole squadron of Templars and countless amounts of demons. But that masked assassin took you out in one shot. I don't mean to criticize, but how'd that happen?"
Rajmael sighed deeply with shame. "I don't know, Varric. He must have used some kind of spell, a curse or something. I thought it was…someone who it just couldn't be. I let my guard down for an instant, and he exploited my weakness. It will not happen again."
~XoXoXo~
The captured Inquisitor and his companions rode for what felt like hours, until they came to an abrupt stop. Judging from the chill in the air and the way the sun was moving, they were close to the Frostbacks just on the very edge of the Dales. The wagons began to creak and move despite the fact they were standing still. Suddenly gravity kicked in and forced all occupants of the aravel to the floor.
"What's going on?" Cassandra asked, still blindfolded.
"I'd say were now floating in the air." Rajmael answered casually.
"Floating?!" Varric shouted.
"Yeah, like a boat in water, except we're in the air?" Rajmael responded. "That's kind of what aravels do."
"I don't know about you, Inquisitor, but I like heights slightly less than I do caves." Varric informed nervously.
Briala always thought the stories of Dalish aravels floating was just that, stories meant to capture the imagination of young elves born in the confine of cities, meant to help uplift their spirits. But to actually be in an aravel, in flight, it was…something that all city elves dream to be real. She just wished it was under better circumstances. It seemed every time she came in contact with those who lived as true elves, she only ever saw that bad side of them. But then…Rajmael was a decent man, and he was proud to be Dalish.
After a while the aravels finally landed on solid ground. Their captors hauled them out and gathered them outside. Judging from how thin the air was and how frigid the weather felt, Rajmael knew for certain they were in the Frostbacks. Strange. What was here that the Vir Banal'ras doing here of all places when the Dales provided bountiful hiding places?
"Take off their blindfolds and bonds." Ordered a feminine voice.
Rajmael expected to see a fellow Dalish but was surprised to see the woman before them was a barefaced city elf. She was around his age with dusky skin, chestnut hair, deep green eyes and had a disdainful look on her face that could almost rival Cassandra's. Like the other members of the Vir Banal'ras she carried a chained-sickle on her hip as well as a quiver of arrows on her back and an ironwood bow. Judging from the way she stood and the respectful manner the other elves had about them, she must have been some kind of officer in their ranks.
"Aneth ara, lathalan." Rajmael greeted sarcastically.
"Save your breath, Inquisitor. I don't speak a word of ancient elven." The elven woman responded neutrally.
"Then why the frick are you doing all this stupid elfy shit for?" Sera blurted as she ripped the gag out of her mouth.
The dusky elf flashed an angry look at Sera and planted a mean right cross into Sera's nose and bloodied her face. "You speak when spoken to, thief!" the woman looked to her men and pointed at Vivienne. "If this flat-ear speaks again, kill this one."
That was worrisome to Vivienne. Sera's penchant for speaking out of turn was infamous, and now here own continued existence rested on the condition that this impudent little thief kept her mouth shut. Oh, this was so sad it was almost funny.
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Briala asked.
"Name's Velara, and what we're doing should be obvious if you didn't have your head jacked up so far between Empress Celene's legs, Marquis Briala." Velara answered hatefully. "Are there any other stupid questions?"
"Yeah, just one." Rajmael answered sardonically. "Do you honestly think that you, or any of your little shadow warriors, can go toe-to-toe with me, even without my sword? What's to stop me lighting your ass up like a chimney?"
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"With magic and a fist full of Fuck You, that's how!" Rajmael spat.
"I'm well aware that you could kill me with relative ease, Inquisitor." Velara answered a cocky little grin. "But I'm also sure you're aware of the standard Dalish procedure when dealing with outsiders. For every one of us you see, there's at least four that you don't? Well, we have more than just four trained on you, and while you may be able to deflect arrows out of midair, do you really think she's as agile?" Velara pointed over to another aravel, and Rajmael was shocked to see Mother Giselle standing there as a prisoner. The situation was becoming crappier by the minute.
What she said right there, standard Dalish procedure? "Where did you learn that? Who the fuck is leading you?" Rajmael demanded.
"You will see soon enough. Our leader wishes to speak with you, if it were up to me, I'd shove, and your little pack of freaks, off that cliff and look at what kind stain you'd make when you hit the ground. But that's not my call." Velara answered smugly. "You will follow me, and if you try anything, our archers will shoot that decrepit bitch down like a quail. But feel free to test me."
Rajmael looked over to Mother Giselle and watched as they took her away. He had no choice but to comply. While Rajmael was not a man of Andrastian faith, and he didn't like how Mother Giselle tried so hard to convince him of the Andrastian faith, she was still a member of the Inquisition, and under his protection.
~XoXoXo~
Velara's men took Mother Giselle down a different path and separated her from the rest of them. Rajmael and his companions followed Velara through an ancient, weather worn path through the mountain side and deeper into the Frostbacks. Where was she taking them?
"Hey, Boss. We got a plan?" Iron Bull whispered.
"We cannot leave Mother Giselle to their mercy. Not after what they did to the Freeman of the Dales." Cassandra insisted.
"You're a powerful mage aren't you, Inquisitor?" Briala asked rhetorically. "Can't you summon something or conjure up a spell to strike them all down?"
"Wow, for a spymaster you have quite a naïve perception on the power of magic." Rajmael answered. "No. My magic doesn't work that way. I can't manipulate the forces of nature in the same manner as other mages. As an Arcane Warrior, my magic is focused inward, and I possess full mastery over myself. It increases my physical abilities and my attunement with my surroundings."
"But I've seen you use fire and lightning before." Briala reminded.
"Lightning is the magical extension of my personality, just as ice is an extension of Vivienne's." Rajmael explained. "And I can wield fire because…I've felt its burn so badly I can't forget its power."
"This isn't the time for magical lectures!" Cassandra hissed. "Are we to do nothing?"
"We don't have much choice right now." Rajmael answered. "We're in an unknown territory, with an unknown number of hostiles, and we don't know where they've taken Mother Giselle, or us for that matter."
"If we just rush into a fight without a plan, we could end up as dead as the Freeman." Blackwall added.
"It would seem the best course of action is to cooperate and come up with a plan." Solas spoke.
"Exactly. Besides, after what I saw, I need some fucking answers." Rajmael stated with determination.
"Hey! You do realize I can hear you, right?" Velara pointed out.
"Hey! You do realize FUCK YOU! Right?" Rajmael spat.
Velara and Cassandra both groaned in disgust but kept walking. Snow began to fall from the sky and mountain tops and the winds began to whip at them. Rajmael thought only the Avvar bothered to live this far in the Frostbacks. Soon they reached their destination, and what a destination it was. Carved into the very side of the mountain was a grand temple entrance into the mountain that shamed the Gates of Orzammar, but this was no dwarven creation. Two were giant elven statues armor and grace far outstripped the Emerald Knights stood before the grand entrance pointing their spears towards heaven, and their off hands rested on swords that were of the same make and design as Enasalin, and the Bora'nan was strapped to their hips.
Leading from the elven gate guardians was a grand stairway that could march a whole army, and at the base steps was a grand courtyard of white stone where more of statues of the elven warriors stood. And in the courtyard were whole platoons of elves training with bows, hand-to-hand, knife fighting, and the use of the Bora'nan. They wore no armor, only minimal clothing, even the women, as though the whipping winds and frigid cold meant nothing to them, and they trained with the tenacity and fury of born warriors, as though they wished to prove themselves to the sentinels watching them. But it wasn't just combat they were practicing. There were elves scaling the mountain walls, walking across ropes over spikes and even meditation. All of Rajmael's warrior companions had to admit that their training was impressive.
"What…what is this place?" Rajmael gawked in awe.
"This place must be older than the Dales, perhaps as old as Arlathan." Solas said in equal awe.
"Seems like the perfect place to hide, and the perfect place to train some hardcore professional killers." Dorian stated.
"Why would these elves come all the way out here to train? Have they nothing better to do?" Vivienne asked sardonically.
"What are they training for?" Cassandra asked with concern. "Who are they planning to fight?"
"Well, perhaps, if we're lucky, we can recruit these people?" Blackwall suggested. "They seem eager for a fight, maybe we can direct that at the Venatori?"
"Are you fucking batty?" Sera asked unthoughtfully. "You can't trust these crazy, stupid fucking elfy-elves! They'll knife you in the back the instant you turn on 'em!"
The instant Sera said that four arrows flew past Vivienne's face.
"I heard that." Velara warned. "I don't make empty threats. Keep your pet thief's mouth shut, Inquisitor."
Everyone glared at Sera, and she gave them a confounded look, but kept her lips firmly together. They walked up the giant staircase and passed the elvhen sentinels. Above the doorway was an ancient elven inscription that Rajmael recognized. It read Elgar'nan enansal, Elgar'nan's blessing. This must have been a temple dedicated to Elgar'nan, as proven by that inscription and the Vir Banal'ras' presence here.
The grand hall of the temple was incredible. Pillars of ancient marble carved in the image of trees and the likeness of animals with blazing braziers lighting the way. Velara led them deeper into the temple and Rajmael and most of his companions couldn't help but admire what they saw. They passed a group elves kneeling before a statue of Elgar'nan holding the sun in his hand as they recited a song to his glory. The thing that caught Rajmael's attention the most was the fact that almost all the elves who were kneeling weren't Dalish, they were City Elves, and some were old enough to be his father. Rajmael didn't recognize the song they were singing.
Elgar'nan, Wrath and Thunder,
Give us glory.
Give us victory, over the Earth that shakes our cities.
Strike the usurpers with your lightning.
Burn the ground under your gaze.
Bring Winged Death against those who throw down our work.
Elgar'nan, help us tame the land
What song was that? Rajmael had never heard its like before. And the dedication and power with which these elves sang could shame any Chantry sister. Velara bought them into a room towards the back of the temple.
"Wait here." Velara instructed and left them alone in the room.
Everyone took a moment to examine the room for anything. A way out, a trap, anything. The first thing Rajmael and Solas, then soon the whole group, noticed the massive mural on the far end of the room. It was a depiction an elven fresco just like the one Solas was painting in the Skyhold tower. This painting depicted the image of Elgar'nan holding his hand out with a burning orb in front of him. And standing before the All-Father was a group of elven warriors, some were kneeling and others were saluting Elgar'nan with the Bora'nan in their fists, and from the burning orb, beams of light shined down on the warriors, engulfing them in a burning red aura. Was Elgar'nan blessing them?
"Those elven warriors all have glowing eyes." Blackwall pointed out. "Just like how Gertrude described them."
Solas looked closely at the painting. "This piece is ancient, but someone has been restoring it."
"It's magnificent." Briala commented.
"Yes. It is. I've been working on restoring it, but I just haven't had enough free time to do so." Spoke an authoritative voice. Rajmael recognized the owner of the voice, it was that masked bastard that knocked him out.
Rajmael activated his Shimmering Shield while everyone else readied for a fight. Everyone could see that Rajmael was pissed off.
"I don't know who you are, but you made a serious mistake in invoking my brother's image." The Inquisitor warned angrily.
"Well, I am sorry I kicked you in the face like that, but is that any way to speak to your brother, Lethallin? What would Evanura say?" The Assassin removed his mask and revealed the face of an elven man around Rajmael's age. His hair was blueish black, pulled into a ponytail. Like most elves, he had a beautiful feline face with sharp features and high cheekbones. But the beauty of his face was marred by the intricate Dalish tattoo that covered the right side of his face, and the terrible, jagged scar that trailed down the left side. In his piercing blue eyes was a look of welcome, while Rajmael's eyes were filled with disbelief.
"No…y-you can't be. Nethras is dead! I buried you for Falon'din's fucking sake!" Rajmael denied. "We searched for you and we found your body!"
"Do you want me to prove it?" The supposed Nethras asked. "When you turned eighteen I gifted you that sylvanwood pipe, and judging from the smell of burnt lotus, you still use it. Keeper Deshana once called you the most impudent, barefaced smartass that had ever been her misfortune to suffer. Or how about that time when you were sixteen and Evanura walked in on you…discovering your 'elven glory' when you thought no one was looking?"
Sera and Iron Bull snickered like children while eveyone else looked embarrassed, but not half as embarrassed as Rajmael.
"That's the first time I've ever heard it called that!" Dorian laughed.
"Wow, that's right up there with 'I Walked Through The Streets Without Pants' embarrassing moments." Varric chuckled.
"Hey, Cassandra, how do you like his 'elven glory'?" Sera giggled.
Cassandra said nothing, but turned a shade of crimson that almost rivaled Rajmael's.
Instead of standing around looking embarrassed, or telling the others to shut up, Rajmael walked up to Nethras and the two elves embraced as long lost brothers should. And for the first time ever, Rajmael's companions saw him cry.
"Oh, Nethras. I'm so sorry!" Rajmael wept. "I didn't know what was going to happen!"
"There is no way to prepare against human nature, my brother." Nethras replied calmly.
"What happened to your Vallaslin?" Rajmael asked curiously. "Your marks were originally meant to honor Andruil, but these…."
"Honor Elgar'nan, I know. I felt that this was more appropriate, as I know serve Elgar'nan's cause." Nethras finished.
"The Keeper, Eva, everyone thinks you're dead. What happened to you?" Rajmael finally asked.
"The body you found was another elven apostate that those same templars that killed Evanura had hunted then burned. I found them not long after, and I put wedding ring on that apostates hand so that you would stop looking for me." Nethras explained calmly.
"You mean this whole time our clan has thought you were dead, and you've been alive doing Mythal knows what with the Vir Banal'ras?! Do you have any idea how much heartbreak Eva had been through?!" Rajmael demanded with justified outrage. "If you've been alive this whole time, why haven't you returned to your daughter!?"
"Believe me Rajmael, not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for not returning to the clan. But I just couldn't. Not after everything that happened." Nethras hung his head in shame. "Please, let me explain."
"What have you done with Mother Giselle?!" Cassandra demanded with her patience reaching its end. "Your people took her from the Inquisition!"
"I certainly hope so. I gave them the order." Nethras answered casually.
"Did you also order give the order to launch terrorist attacks against Orlais?" Briala voiced in. "Do you have any idea the damage you could cause?"
Nethras laughed in his throat. "And you brought the newly promoted Marquis Briala of the Dales. How…fortuitous."
"Nethras, I need to know what has happened. You have much to answer for." Rajmael told in a grim tone.
"Are you asking me as my brother, or as the Lord Inquisitor, Rajmael?"
"I want us to remain as brothers, but I must first have answers. For what has happened and what you've done since…Evanura's death." Rajmael answered somberly.
"Very well." Nethras sighed. He invited him to sit with him at a large table at one end of the room. Nethras remained calm, but the tension from the others was noticeable. "After the humans attacked our clan and…killed Evanura, I chased after them, despite what Keeper Deshana bade." A look of pain came over both Dalish elves as they remembered that day so vividly. "It took me a week to track the Templars who tried to take Eva away, but I found them. They had just burned an elven apostate when I attacked. I was still injured from their previous assault and my anger got the better of me. I killed many, but they were able to overpower me, and decided to haul me off to the White Spire to be judged for the murder of holy templars, as if their crimes against our people were nothing. And they gave me this." Nethras traced over the scar on the left side of his face as he flashed a hateful look at Cassandra. The Seeker met his gaze, but there was shame in her eyes. "We took ship to Ferelden, and from there to the Frostbacks to go to Orlais. I was still severely injured, and the Templars kept me that way as they mocked me, and mocked the Creators, telling me how the Maker was going to strike me into the Abyss for being devout in my pagan beliefs."
"That is not the Maker's will!" Cassandra spoke out. "What those men did was terrible, and they had no right to do it. The Maker does not accept such blasphemy."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Nethras asked sarcastically. "Is that what passes for an apology to you Chantry dogs? Well, that just changes everything! Maybe you can tell that to my dead wife and clanmates, and maybe they'll appreciate it as much as I do! Sit down, and shut the fuck up."
Rajmael lifed his hand and bade Cassandra to be quite.
"Anyway, when we were passing through the Frostbacks a terrible snowstorm kicked in." Nethras continued. "I was finally able to escape the templars, but I was still too injured. I crawled through the mountains looking for shelter, eating root and rodents when I found them. And just when I was ready to let Falon'Din claim me, I heard…felt something. Something calling to me. I crawled and clawed my way until I found this holy place."
"You elfy types think all ancient ruins and shit are holy." Sera snorted. "I find holier things at the bottom of a bottle."
"Little Brother, if your pet flat-ear speaks again, I am going to break her neck." Nethras warned.
"Sera, shut up, or I'll break your neck for him. The adults are talking." Rajmael warned glaringly. Sera returned his glare, but conceded and turned her attention to the floor. "So you found this place. What else did you find? What makes it so holy?"
Nethras chuckled almost maniacally. "The foundations of this temple was set down during the time of Elvhenan Empire, and unlike the ancient ruins that acted as places of worship, this was where the Vir Banal'ras trained to serve him. This is where they received their orders, where they heard his voice. The voice of the All-Father."
"You are so certain of this?" Solas asked skeptically.
"I heard the echoes of his words." Nethras answered with reverence. "I crawled in here through the darkness, and I learned more of our history than Keeper Deshana did in her whole life as leader of our clan." Nethras pointed to the mural on the wall with the elven warriors. "Elgar'nan granted the Vir Banal'ras incredible power, a burning rage equal to He Who Over Threw The Sun. It makes the dwarven berserkers look like sniveling girls. These warriors were the agents of Elgar'nan's vengeance, the enforcers of his will, and they left behind not only their weapons, but their knowledge as well. I studied, and unlocked, Elgar'nan's Blessing, and then I hunted down those templars, and I made them feel Elgar'nan's wrath."
There was a smile on Nethras' face that reminded Rajmael of a rabid wolf. The others noticed it as well. "You avenged Evanura and our clan, and you found a lost piece of our history. Why didn't you return then?"
"Because I couldn't bare the shame of looking at my daughter, knowing that I had failed her and our clan." Nethras answered sorrowfully. "I…had to make it right. Not just for my daughter but for the elves who were being wronged. I found others like us, elves who had been wronged, and piece by piece, we've been taking back what rightfully belongs to us."
That last sentence caught Rajmael's attention instantly. "What do you mean take back what we lost, Nethras?"
Nethras smiled proudly at his brother. "Come, let me show you, Little Brother."
Rajmael's long lost brother led them down a long corridor, which took them further inside the mountain temple. Rajmael could feel the power within this temple, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his skin tingle. The very air was filled with this ancient power. As if the very stones that made it were carved from magic. The weight of the mountain was held up by powerful pillars of white stone with carvings of ancient battles etched into their surface. And all along the massive corridor were statues of fearsome elven warriors in armor armed with spears, bows and swords, fearsome expressions sculpted on to their faces, as if they were ready to spring to life and fight to finish.
Nethras led them to two giant doors at the end of the hallway, a mosaic of Elgar'nan tiled on them both and set of bells before them. Both the doors were massive in size and weight, crafted from black stone, and there was no doorknobs, or even a presentable handle on either of them. They all started wondering whether or not this elf was just leading them on a wild goose chase. Before any of them could voice their concerns, Nethras struck the bells in a complicated sequence. The individual sound from each bell made a different note that seemed to ring in the back of their minds, and harmonized more beautifully than the bells of Val Royeaux. When each bell's note reached their end, their echoes silenced in the vast halls, the door began to rumble and groan, the ancient tumblers inside them moving of their own volition.
"Never picked a door that needed music to get open." Sera commented.
"I'd like to see the Smiths back in Orzammar try to pull something like this off." Varric chuckled.
"These doors respond to a certain harmonization of sound." Solas realized. "It is ancient and subtle form of magic. I doubt anyone could get in otherwise."
Nethras looked at his brother, a proud smile spread across his face. "Behold, my brother. The treasures of our people."
Rajmael was stunned with awe, his mouth agape and a look of wonder in his eyes. The chamber they stood in was as large as Skyhold's courtroom, and it was filled entirely with nothing but elven treasures. Various pieces of art hung on the walls next to statues and mosaics of the elven gods. Magical artifacts that would shame the vaults in Val Royeaux's Circle of Magi, such as staves of powerful Keepers, crafting tools of ancient and brilliant designs, and even books written in ancient elven. Displayed proudly on stands and in glass cases were sets of armor and weapons. Enchanted swords, bows, and even saddles that were designed to ride halla, all made from material that no human forge could mimic. Some were relics of the Emerald Knights of the Dales, and others were so ancient it was impossible to determine their age and origin. Despite the age of these arms and armor, they could easily rival any weapon forged by the finest smiths of Orzammar.
Before anyone could remark on the splendor of all these artifacts, Rajmael immediately set to looking at and remarking every item he could get to. The enthusiasm and excitement he had was like that of a child who got everything he wanted on his birthday. Wide-eyed and full of energy, the Inquisitor started looking at and remarking on every item he could get to.
"Look at these statues of the Creators, carved from pure crystal And these books, all written in elvhen." Rajmael marveled excitedly. "Solas! Look at these murals. They must date back thousands of years."
"Wow. Look at him go." Varric chuckled.
"Like a kid on Wintersend morning." Blackwall observed.
"I wish my Wintersend mornings were like this. All I got was higher expectations and more responsibilities, and if I was really lucky, maybe a pat on the head." Dorian remarked, half-sarcastic.
"Imagine what our enemies would think if they saw the boss like this." Iron Bull chortled.
Cole looked upon their leader, looking past him, seeing what was truly there. "These are more than items, more than treasures to him. They represent everything his people were, are, can be again. They are part of the elven identity, their soul. He's spent his whole life finding such things, searching for what was taken from his people. A way to restore who they are."
Seeing Rajmael so excited and joyful at all these elven artifacts that had not been plundered made Cassandra feel happy for him. Rajmael, the elves as a whole, had lost so much, and Rajmael seeing so much of what was rightfully theirs must have brought him a sense of vindication and victory most could not know. Even so, Cassandra could not shake off that feeling of suspicion in the back of her mind, honed by her lifetime as a Seeker. While she was glad for Rajmael, this Nethras had taken them against their will, taken Mother Giselle hostage, and admitted to being behind the various acts of terrorism they were investigating. Everything inside her told her that there was something sinister happening here.
"And the Freeman of the Dales?" Solas inquired curiously. "I cannot fault anyone for wanting to be rid of them, but their rather extreme termination doesn't seem to coincide with your goals."
"You really think so, hahren?" Nethras asked slyly. "General Maliphant and his fellow deserters dared to lay claim to the Dales as their own, as if this was there land to have. They were foul men, and they deserved foul ends. And besides, I hate Chevaliers."
"So, you've committed various acts of sabotage, terrorism and murder for the sake of a few relics and treasures?" Vivienne observed in her trademark condescending tone. "It seems we were wrong, Marquis Briala. These people aren't radicals, merely petty thieves, as well as murderers."
Vivienne cried out in shock and pain as an arrow flew past her head and grazed her cheek, leaving a trail of blood on her mahogany face. Vivienne pressed her hand against the wound on her face to heal it with magic, but nothing happened. Her eyes went wide with shock. How can this be happening?
"What's the matter? Your magic not working, shem?"
Nethras stood from the other side of the room, still holding the bow he used to launch that arrow at Vivienne. Despite how old the bow looked, it was very obvious that the weapon was still effective. There was a strange aura around the bow, and the arms were glowing lightly with runes. The weapons was obviously enchanted.
"This here is called Dhal Vallasan, forged by the legendary elven smith Tanaleth in Halamshiral. Bows such as these were used by a special branch of the Emerald Knights who hunted maleficar and demons in our kingdom. The enchantments of this weapon disrupt magic." Nethras explained coldly but his anger apparent in his eyes. "If you disrespect me or those I lead again, Enchanter, I'm going to shoot you in the gut and watch you bleed to death, and your fancy magic won't do anything for you."
Vivienne looked over to the Inquisitor, wanting him to do something, but Rajmael shared his brother's contempt. "Don't look at me, Vivienne. You're the one who's dumb enough to smack in this place. Which is odd, because normally that's Sera's job."
"Yeah, that's...hey!" Sera protested.
"But it is a valid concern, Inquisitor." Briala reminded adamantly. "I know he is your brother, but your brother has admitted to committing many serious crimes. Crimes you and I came to investigate, to stop."
"Bite me, Marquis." Nethras snapped, placing his enchanted bow back on its pedestal. "After that little shadow war you committed against Celene and Gaspard, you're the last person in all of Thedas who gets to lecture on elves fighting for the justice that's denied us."
"So it is true. You're the one who assaulted the Grand Cathedral!" Cassandra accused damningly.
Nethras gave a mocking bow to the Seeker. "I personally led that assault, and I have to admit, the look on that Revered Mother's face when we lit that vault on fire still makes me laugh."
Cassandra's signature scowl twisted on her face in utter rage. How dare he speak like such sacrilege was some kind of joke? If only she had her sword, then she'd knock that arrogant smirk off his face. "You assaulted the heart of Andrastian faith, murdered Templars who were performing their duties. Why!?"
"You'll find that the life of a Templar means very little to me, and my brother. Isn't that right, Rajmael?" Nethras looked over to Rajmael, but his brother averted his eyes, as if he didn't want to confirm Nethras' claim. "As for why I did it, well, you're supposed the Seeker. You tell me."
"Leliana said that the remains of Mother Amity were taken from the vault, along with other things." Solas recalled. "Did you break into the Grand Cathedral's vault to carry out an act of vengeance against one of the people who robbed the elves of their kingdom?"
Both Nethras and Rajmael hocked in their throats and spat hatefully on the ground at the mention of that name.
"Not quite. When vengeance is carried out, those who committed the crime should feel the pain they committed against others, and then savored like a fine wine. So taking revenge against a dead woman's remains isn't very satisfying. Even though it was fun breaking into that vault and setting it on fire." Nethras laughed. "No, taking Mother Amity's urn was just a nice consolation prize. I went there to take back what your precious Chantry stole from my people."
"What are you talking about?" Cassandra asked disbelievingly.
"You really think I'd waste my time and resources just steal an overdecorated trash bin?" Nethras asked rhetorically, holding out an urn with the mark of the Annointed and signature of the Divine on its face. It was Mother Amity's ashes. "Though I will admit, I did have fun pissing on her dusty remains."
A sense of outrage overwhelmed Cassandra. How can this man act so flippant and immodest about such actions. However, the Seeker bit down on her tongue. After everything both he and Rajmael had told of their shared past, and after seeing what elves go through, she was in no position to judge them for bearing a grudge. Especially considering how long she held a grudge against mages for what happened to her own brother.
"Where did you think all these relics and treasures came from? From your kind!" Nethras snapped angrily. "Orlesian nobles whose ancestors stole our land, and placed our treasures on their mantle pieces like trophies. Nearly a third of what is in this room I took from your precious vault. I didn't break into that bitch's tomb merely to make off with her dusty remains. I wanted something infinitely more valuable that had been placed in her crypt."
Nethras unlocked a secure chest and held it out to Rajmael. Rajmael carefully opened the box and his eyes went as wide as wagon wheels, his breath stolen from him, and his hands shook against his will as reached for what was inside it. An axe of elven design, many centuries old, masterfully crafted from white sylvanwood. The axe blade was like silver with runes inscribed along its edge. Etched into the haft was an ancient elvhen prayer none here could translate, with the flag of the Dales stamped above it. And tied to the handle was a string of small totems of the elven gods carved from stone, bone and metal. It was a weapon that exalted the elven spirit.
"I don't believe it. The Veshialle...!" Rajmael exclaimed with excited disbelief.
"Wielded by General Rajmael in the battles against the Exalted March on the Dales. He held off our enemy to give our people time to escape. Your namesake hurled this axe at the Chantry's soldiers before leaping to his death at the Forlorn Falls, rather than be captured by our enemy." Nethras spoke with reverence in his voice. "It was taken as a trophy, and used to fuel the Chantry's lies that General Rajmael renounced the Creators as the moment of his death. And when that bitch Amity died, they buried Rajmael's axe with her, as a reminder of her accomplishments in life. Even in death, that miserable cunt did nothing but insult our people."
"That's all? You committed acts of murder, of sacrilege, for an axe? For these...things?!" Cassandra demanded.
"You and your Chantry commit acts of murder, propaganda, and cultural genocide in the name of a faceless god whose only claim to existence was by a single prophet who failed and died." Nethras reminded satirically. "This, as far as I, and many other elves, can see, is justice. Something your kind have denied us for too long."
Rajmael, it seemed, was too preoccupied by having his legendary namesake's legendary weapon in his hands. Something he never thought he'd ever seen in the flesh, yet here it was. The Inquisitor looked to the urn that contained Mother Amity's ashes with utter contempt and hatred burning in his eyes. That thing in the back of his mind began yelling at him, and for once, Rajmael had no intention of ignoring it.
The Inquisitior gripped the long lost axe firmly in his fist, charging his magic through it blade, making lightning crackle through it. Then Rajmael snatched up the urn and clenched it so hard in his hand that it began to crack. Eight hundred years of oppression, abuse, hostility, hatred and fear, all thanks to the miserable bitch whose earthly remains were contained in this jar. She brought destruction to an entire people, left them with nothing but pain and anguish, and what did the humans who claim to be just do about it? They canonized her, treated her like a damned hero and buried her with honor, and celebrated her crimes against his people. All those statues he destroyed in the Dales that bastardized his people, she built them. Everything the Chantry says about how the elves were evil, heartless pagans, she wrote it. It was Mother Amity who set the standard for that Chantry bitch who burned Rajmael as a child and murdered his parents. This insult could not go unpunished.
Rajmael threw Mother Amity's urn into the air, and before it could even begin falling back down, he threw the Veshialle at the damned thing. Mother Amity's urn shattered into many pieces, and her dusty ashes filled the air like grey snow. Before Mother Amity's urn or her ashes even had a chance to hit the ground, the intensity of the lightning from the Veshialle vaporized every last bit of her remains into nothing, as if they never existed. Mother Amity's remains being erased from existence by the weapon of General Rajmael; to the Inquisitor, it felt like poetic justice.
All of Rajmael's companions, especially the more faithful of them, were shocked into silence. Cassandra looked at the Inquisitor with appalled shock on her face. They couldn't believe that the Inquisitor just desecrated someone's remains like that. Nethras, on the other hand, was laughing his ass off.
Rajmael took a moment to collect himself. After a lifetime of resentment, payback should be savored for at least a moment.
"Well, that was...cathartic." Rajmael admitted, finally turning his attention back to his brother. "But it's time you started explaining things, Nethras. You owe us some answers. So you avenged our clan, and you've been recovering pieces of our stolen history, and for that, you've done right by our people. But what is this? How did you get so many followers?"
"You of all people should know that the Dalish aren't the only elves who are constantly being wronged by the humans." Nethras reminded. "After I found this temple, I went out and sought others like us. Elves who had been wronged by this world, looking for justice. I began training them, teaching them how to use the Bora'nan, and how to receive Elgar'nan's blessing."
"And what do you intend to do with Elgar'nan's blessing, Nethras?" Rajmael finally got to the core of their purpose here. "I saw the training going on in the courtyard, it seems like you're preparing for war."
"You don't dress for a funeral unless there's a dead body." Nethras answered.
"Inquisitor, I know he is your adopted brother, and I sympathize with what happened to him, I truly do, but the answer is obvious: he intends to be a terrorist. He already is one." Marquis Briala stated, glaring an angry look at Nethras.
"A terrorist is just a less flattering term for people fighting back against their oppressors. No different when Ferelden rebelled against Orlais." Nethras grinned. "But…yes. I do have certain plans for the Vir Banal'ras. Not that you would understand, Marquis."
"Do you honestly think that killing a few soldiers or nobles will change anything, or are you just another fanatic looking to kill for your cause?" Cassandra demanded.
"The Vir Banal'ras only leads to destruction, for those walking that path especially." Solas advised.
"This guy sounds a lot like some of the Fog Warriors I interrogated." Iron Bull spoke.
"Are you truly willing to get your own people killed for this?" Blackwall added.
"Far be it for me to say anything about what cause a man takes up, but doesn't this sound just a tad foolish to anyone else?" Dorian asked.
"Wow. Do they have to comment on everything?" Nethras chuckled.
"Trust me, it gets tiresome after a while." Rajmael sighed. "But they're concerns are legitimate ones, and I can't ignore what you've done. What are your plans, Nethras?"
Nethras matched his brother's serious look. "I'm afraid that information is secret, Rajmael. You will always be my brother, but you are the Inquisitor and I am the leader of the Vir Banal'ras. And I have yet to see if your Inquisition is friend or foe to us."
A sense of outrage came over Rajmael. "You disappear for two years, let everyone who loved you thing you were dead, and after everything we went through as brothers, you dare question my loyalty as an elf?!"
"You lead an institution that is made up of, and dedicated to the faith of the Chantry. A faith that has sought our people's destruction, Herald of Andraste." Nethras shot back. "That miserable title of yours causes me and the rest of our people to question where your loyalties lay."
"After what the Chantry has done to me, you think I'd ever be loyalt to them?" Rajmael growled.
"If you truly want not only my trust, but the trust of those under me, then you know what you need to do, brother." Nethras answered.
Rajmael did know what he was talking about. He had to find out what Nethras was planning, and he refused to let anyone, especially his adopted brother question his loyalty to the elven people. "So be it…brother. I invoke Vir Sulevenan."
"If you want to know the secrets and goals of the Vir Banal'ras, and prove your loyalty to the elves who serve here, then you must retrieve a prize equal to that worth. Bring me…the Shards of Sulevin."
Rajmael's jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide with shock. The request almost made him paled. "Wh-what? The Shards of…you can't be serious!"
"I'm as serious as cancer, brother." Nethras responded. "What you seek is equal to that sword. If you want to know our goal, then I want that sword."
"Is what I have to learn here truly worth the danger and ultimate futile task?"
"Yes. I swear in the name of all the Creators, what I have is worth it. But more than that, you owe me a great debt. The price of two lives, and the lives of others, that were lost because of your error in judgement. Or have you forgotten that?" Nethras said with pain. "You…owe me, Rajmael."
Rajmael's face twisted in agony. What were they talking about? "So be it. I will get you the useless, broken fucking sword."
"Do that, and your debt is settled." Nethras promised.
"Show us the way out, and give us back our equipment then."
"No. I'm afraid I can't do that, either." Nethras stated. "You see, while I welcome you here as my brother, these…people are my prisoners. I didn't disarm them and bring them all the way out here simply to give them a tour of this temple. The whole point of Vir Banal'ras is secrecy, and until you've completed your task, I cannot trust these strangers you brought with you when you sniffed out our trail. And besides, there are so many of my people who want to speak with the Marquis here.""
"Do you truly think you can hold us hostage? Against our will?" Cassandra asked dangerously. Rajmael could feel that killing intent building up inside of her. "We are not the Freeman of the Dales, we are not so weak!"
"You've got more bite than all the other Chantry dogs I've killed, I'll give you that." Nethras admitted. "But this temple is home to those who follow me, and if you do not cooperate it will go one of two ways. One: my assassins will kill Mother Giselle, or Two: I'll kick your asses. Either way, you will lose."
"Yeah, right!" Sera scoffed. "Let's see 'em try!"
"I like a good fight." Iron Bull promised.
"We will not be hostages for one man's lunacy." Vivienne scorned.
"You honestly think we're going to just sit here and let you threaten us?" Blackwall asked threateningly.
"You should be more careful what enemies you provoke." Solas warned.
"Everyone, shut up and calm down." Rajmael ordered. "We will comply with Nethras. And we will not attack them."
"What!?" all of them practically screamed.
"We have no choice." The Inquisitor informed. "And I don't want to bring death if we can ally with them. But do I have your word, brother, that you will not harm them, or Mother Giselle, and to release them when my task is complete."
"Yes. I swear in the name of all the Creators, even Fen'harel the Dread Wolf, and on the life of my daughter, that I will not harm any member of the Inquisition." Nethras swore. "And when your task is complete, I will let them go, and reveal everything to you."
"Then under these terms, I accept the Vir Sulevenan." Rajmael promised.
"Perfect." Nethras snapped his fingers and that brunette elf from earlier materialized right out of the shadows. "Velara, take the Inquisitor's companions to where Mother Giselle is being kept. Assure them of our…hospitality to strangers."
"As you wish, Nethras." Velara answered stoically.
~XoXoXo~
Once again Velara lead them to an unknown location. They walked deeper into the temple, passing the ancient statues and intricate hallways until they reached what appeared to be some kind of large, empty room, possibly once used as some kind of vault or meditation chamber. And inside was Mother Giselle, alive and unharmed, kneeling in prayer.
"Mother Giselle! Thank the Maker you're unhurt." Cassandra exclaimed. "Have they done anything to you?"
"I am fine, Seeker Cassandra. A few bruises, but nothing terrible." Mother Giselle answered calmly. "Inquisitor, do you know what is happening? Who are these elves? Are they Dalish?"
"No, not all of them." Rajmael answered dismally. "They're a group of elves, Dalish and City Elves alike, looking for retribution. And they're being led by my brother."
"You're brother? I thought you said he was dead?" Mother Giselle asked confused.
Rajmael shook his head in shame and sadness. "Apparently I was wrong, and I buried a stranger next to the woman I loved."
"Now's not the time for nostalgic sentimentality, Inquisitor." Vivienne criticized coldly. "We have to figure out a way out of here!"
"After seeing what these people did to the Freeman of the Dales, I don't relish taking up their hospitality any longer than is necessary." Dorian shuddered.
"I don't want to be around these creepy elves anymore." Sera gagged. "So let's find whatever's of value, and get the fuck out of here."
"Yes, robbing them certainly won't piss them off." Blackwall said sarcastically. "Let's not push out luck, Sera."
"We got a plan out of here, Boss?" Iron Bull asked.
"I will complete the task Nethras has asked of me." Rajmael answered flatly.
"Surely, you cannot be serious!?" Briala yelled. "You intend to let this man extort you?!"
"I know he is your brother, darling, but do you can't let anyone make demands of someone of your position." Vivienne informed. "It could destroy the Inquisition."
"What's to stop these freaks from stabbing us in the back when you do what they want?!" Sera spat.
Rajmael glared at daggers at Sera. "If you ever suggest the Nethras is a liar to my face again, Sera, I'll smash your head in."
"It is a legitimate concern, Inquisitor." Blackwall insisted. "Assassins of any denomination are not to be trusted."
"These are some pretty badass elves. Do we really want to make enemies of them when we could have some kick-ass new allies?" Iron Bull suggested.
"Indeed. The Inquisition regularly hires trained assassins, and utilizes warriors of faith. How are these people any different?" Solas agreed.
"That actually makes a lot of sense. After seeing what these guys did to those Freeman assholes, I'd rather have them fight on our side than piss them off." Varric added.
"Nehtras has invoked Vir Sulevenan, and we have both sworn in the name of the Creators. All will be made clear once I've fulfilled my task." Rajmael assured.
"I too had a brother I would have done anything for, Rajmael. But do you truly think that after what he's done, he is someone worth aiding?" Cassandra asked with deep concern.
"What he has done has nothing to do with it." Rajmael answered. "This is about me and him. And what I've done."
Solas' brow furrowed curiously. "Nethras said that you owed him. What did he mean by that?"
Rajmael raised his hand to his face in shame. "What happened to Nethras, Evanura's death, everything that happened to Eva. It was my fault." The Inquisitor breathed a sigh of sorrow and regret. "Almost three years ago, my clan had a difficult year. Winter was on its way, the forest wasn't kind with its yield, and the hunting was poor. Keeper Deshana was away with another clan, and as the First of Clan Lavellan, it was my job to try and secure us with more supplies before the seasons turned. I approached a local village outside of Ansburg to trade goods, halla horns, rare herbs and ironbark for supplies. Nethras warned me not to, told me the shemlen would not honor any arrangement with us. But I ignored him, I was the acting leader and wanted to do things my way. I spoke with the village leader and we agreed to trade my goods for dried food, crafting materiel sand blankets. I…got our supplies and left without issue."
"So, your first act as leader went without a hitch. Job well done." Dorian commented.
"Yeah, your people got a good deal. How was that a bad thing?" Varric shrugged.
"Because deception is one of the most defining features of human nature." Solas answered.
"Exactly." Rajmael confirmed. He tried to hide it, but there were tears forming in his eyes. "It was the blankets, those fucking blankets I traded halla antlers for. They gave us diseased blankets, and by the time we were in the woods, the sickness had already set in. I tried to use my magic to heal as many as I could, but too many were ill and we couldn't go further to safety. Eva's hand was so hot, I thought she was going to die. Evanura couldn't leave her daughter's side, but Nethras…he blamed me for Eva's sickness, and he was right."
"Those people were shits, the lot of 'em." Sera scowled.
Iron Bull shook his horned head. "Wow. Just when I thought people couldn't be even bigger dickheads."
"It's amazing what lows some people will stoop to." Vivienne sighed.
"Keeper Deshana returned and she was able to gather enough supplies to cure the clan, but that wasn't all." Rajmael continued. "It was the Templars, those fucking Templar. They were...well, let's say their leader and I had some history. They launched a surprise attack, many of us were still too weak from being sick to fight back. They set fire to our camp and tried to steal our children who had magical talent. Evanura fought and tried to carry Eva away to safety." Tears were now streaming from Rajmael's eyes as he tried to hold back a sob. "I…watched from thirty yards as the woman I loved was shot down by arrows….Eva tried to wake her mother up, called her name, but Evanura was gone. Nethras and I were able to run the templars off, but when he found Evanura slain. When I saw him cradling his wife's body to him, I knew…I knew something broke inside him, then he chased after the templars. Twenty members of clan were killed, including children, I lost a brother and Evanura, and Eva became an orphan, all because I made one stupid fucking mistake."
"Rajmael, I…I'm so sorry." There were now tears forming in Cassandra's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. Her heart was truly broken for Rajmael. First his parents, then those he loved? The world was cruel to elves, and it had been particularly cruel to him. She knew all too well what it was like to lose a brother, but Rajmael lost more than that, and he lost it all to human bigotry and hate. Something that the Chantry had allowed to happen.
Mother Giselle also had tears in her eyes, but she did not dare wipe them from her face. "I am as well. You were right to be angry with the Chantry. What those people did…was evil."
"Well…shit." Was all Varric could bring himself to say. Varric had family like a rat has fleas, but he considered them to be more of business than kin. Hawke and his friends were more family to him than anyone else. But Rajmael did have a family, one that he actually loved, and it seemed all the world wanted was to take that from him.
This would certainly explain much. Vivienne thought Rajmael's childhood trauma was the reason behind most of his decisions. Not she knew it was because of how the peons of the world had treated his people. But his people's continuing refusal to join the rest of the world is what leads the fearful and the ignorant to attack them. As the Inquisitor, he should be above such callow reproach.
Now Sera understood why the Inquisitor was so hard on her about Verchiel. He was trying to do a good thing even though someone else told him he shouldn't, and it killed a lot of people. And he loves his people. But it would have all worked out if those people weren't a bunch of shits.
Trying to kill people with tainted blankets? That's a sick way to kill people! Iron Bull had seen Vints and Tal-Vashoth use such tactics to try and wipe out whole villages. But as heinous as that is, they do it because they're at war, those fuckers did it simply because they don't like elves. Suddenly the Vir Banal'ras didn't seem so bad.
Dorian never liked associating with elves. Not because he felt superior to them, and that they were beneath him, quite the contrary. Whereas others from his homeland felt pride in destroying the elves and enslaving them, Dorian could only feel shame. They wiped out an entire people and turned them into slaves, they still did. Only truly evil people could delight in such a terrible fact. One that Corypheus embodied and wanted to relive.
Human cruelty to elves was not just familiar to Briala, but it was a fact of life. Elves in the city lived in constant fear of humans, wondering what the humans might do to them, and hoping that they can avoid them. Briala's first encounter with the Dalish ended horrifically, and made left her with the impression that the Dalish didn't care for elves simply because they lived with humans. But now she realized the Dalish suffer at human hands just as much. And unlike the City Elves who have found ways to live with humans, the Dalish are hunted by them like animals, simply because they wish to continue living like elves.
"You're too hard on yourself. You did nothing wrong." Blackwall was all too familiar with what one mistake can do. Not only to yourself, but to those you look after as well. But there was no ambition, no malice, or selfishness in what Rajmael did. He was only trying to look after his clan. And those people made him suffer for it.
"Indeed. You were only trying to provide for your clan. That the humans used your desperation as a means to attack you speaks of their failure, not yours." Solas insisted. While Solas did feel sorrow for what happened to Rajmael, he also felt a sense of admiration. Rajmael
"But Nethras warned me, and I refused to listen. Because I wanted to act like a leader, and my first act as leader brought ruin to my clan, and Nethras' family was destroyed because I didn't listen to him." Rajmael remembered bitterly. "And now I have to make it right with my brother, and it's the only way to find out what the Vir Banal'ras is up to."
"And you're not going to get that done passing around sob stories." Velara rudely interjected. "I got better things to do than listeing to you people cry."
"Having my foot dropped into your mouth is never a better thing for anyone, but that's what's going to happen if keep up the attitude!" Rajmael warned. He turned to his companions one last time before leaving with a foreboding look on his face. "I must go now, but listen carefully: do not underestimate Nethras. Everything I know about warfare and combat, I learned from him. And do not seek to provoke him, or the other member of the Vir Banal'ras. And trust in me, I will come back."
And with that, the Inquisitor left his companions to complete a near hopeless task to make up for what he did to his brother, and to save his them from a near mythical cult of elven assassins that could make the Antivan Crows piss their pants. All so he could gain Nethras' trust and learn what the Vir Banal'ras was after. After everything that Rajmael had done for the shemlen, it was time for him to do something for his own people.
~XoXoXo~
Not long after Rajmael had left the temple, Velara returned to the room where his companions were being held, and she brought armed guards with her.
"Marquis Briala. You are to come with us." Velara ordered.
Briala knew she didn't like the look of this. "Why?"
"Because if you do not, I'm going to shoot that Chantry Mother right between the eyes, and then I'm going to kick your flat-eared ass. How's that sound?" Velara answered as several of her men pointed their arrows at Mother Giselle. No one dared move lest they provoke these homicidal elves.
"What do you want?" Briala demanded.
"We have questions, and you have answers. Does that clear things up for you?" The elven asssassin gritted through her teeth.
"Nethras promised that no harm would come to us while the Inquisitor performed his task." The Marquis reminded.
"No. He promised no harm would come to any member of the Inquisition, and we all know you're not a member of the Inquisition, right Marquis?" Velara answered agitatedly. "Now get moving before I get homicidal."
With those archers pointing their arrows at her, and remembering what she saw that these people did to the Freeman of the Dales, Briala knew she had no choice. She followed Velara to through the hallways trying to memorize every path and detail, but she couldn't help but wonder what this Velara's agenda was. She was not a Dalish elf, and judging from her accent, she wasn't from Orlais.
"I'm curious, Velara, what's a Fereldan city elf doing in a cult of Dalish assassins?" Briala finally asked.
"What, you think just because I'm a fellow city elf that I'm suddenly going to be your girlfriend and do your hair for you?" Velara mocked. "Piss off."
"I merely find it odd that an elf from the city would risk so much for the cause of one mad Dalish elf."
"Nethras' cause is the cause of all elves, in the city and the forest." Velara responded coldly.
"What happened to Nethras and his family was a terrible crime, but do you honestly think that what he's done will improve the lives of elves. It will only lead to the loss of more elven lives."
"What do you know about the lot of elven lives?!" Velara asked indignantly. "Not every all of us can whore ourselves out to imperial monarchs. The rest of us have to live in the real world! You want to know about me, and the others like me? Fine! I was born in a small village in Ferelden called Lothering, my brother moved to Denerim as soon as he was old enough to marry. When the Blight attacked, my family fled to Orlais. A few years later I learned that my big brother and his whole family were sold to Tevinter slavers by Arl Howe."
That took Briala back a bit. She knew there were those who still practiced slavery by kidnapping elves in the Alienages. No one ever cared if an elf went missing there. "I…I'm sorry for what happened to your brother but…."
"Shut up! I'm not done!" Velara yelled. "You wanted the whole story, and you'll get it. My parents died from a fever, and I moved to Halamshiral. Eventually I was able to make a living as a seamstress and I married a tailor, his name was Allan. And we had two children, a boy and a girl. Their names were Jaras and Shari, and they were beautiful. We were poor but we were happy. And then those shems killed Lemet, and all of Halamshiral rebelled."
Briala's eyes went wide. She remembered that event vividly. "I remember. The elves rebelled for a just reason, and they were met only with more injustice."
"You came to the fucking Alienage to get us back to making nice with the humans under orders of the Empress, and when she set our Alienage on fire, you got away in one of her fucking carriages! And while you were getting to safety, my husband and my babies were burned alive!" Tears of anger and pain were now stinging Velara's eyes.
"What the Empress did was a terrible crime, one that I wanted to see avenged." Briala reminded. "It was why I chose to lead the elves of Orlais against the Empress and the Duke, to see that we would no longer be treated like animals!"
"I know. I was one of the elves who fought in your guerilla army." Velara revealed hatefully.
Now that was a surprise to Briala. "Then why are you doing all this!? Everything that we fought for, everything that we accomplished and can accomplish could be destroyed by what Nethras is doing!"
"Because I want justice for what they all did to my family!" Velara screamed. "I don't want to live with the shemlen! I wanted the Empress pretty head on a pike for murdering my husband and my children! I fought for you because I wanted a world where elves were the masters of our destiny! And then you betrayed us. You returned back to the loving arms and bedroom of your sweet Celene and made an alliance with Orlais, and got a fancy little title to go with it. You would rather we stay subservient to the shems, but it will not be that way. Not with Nethras leading us."
Velara finally led them to a dark empty room. Not windows, not windows, not even chains or torture devices like Briala was expecting. "So, what now? Do you intend to torture me for my supposed betrayal?"
"Not just that." Velara answered sinisterly. Pain shot through Briala's brain as tears filled her eyes and he nose bled when Velara jammed her fist right into the Marquis' nose. "You have information that Nethras wants, information that will be useful to our cause. And how much you suffer is going to be entirely up to you."
Briala nose suddenly began to heal and runes lit up all over the room. What kind of magic was this? She assumed a fighting stance and tried to attack, but Velara moved with such speed that it was physically impossible, and smacked Briala in the face, leaving an imprint of her palm on Briala's cheek.
"Unfortunately, I don't have the authority to use more invasive techniques, so you're going to be my little sparring buddy." Velara smiled. "Don't worry this room was made so that the ancient warriors could fight each other with all their might but not kill on another, all your wounds will keep healing, and then you'll taste some more pain."
"You…you're not mortal are you?" Briala reasoned as she spat the blood out of her mouth. There was no way seamstress from Lothering could move so fast or be so strong without being possessed.
"Quite mortal, actually. Just…enhanced, I guess you could say." Velara laughed as he eyes began to glow with an unnatural power. "One of the side benefits of Elgar'nan's Blessing."
Elgar'nan's Blessing? That phrase kept turning up since this whole nightmare began. Was that what made these elves so strong that a platoon of Chevaliers couldn't kill them? Was that what made that one elf explode? "What is Elgar'nan's blessing?"
Velara knocked the wind out of Briala with a powerful horse kick to her stomach. Briala felt several ribs break, but then they started healing again. "I'll ask the questions, Marquis. And the one I need answered, that you need to answer, if you want to stop being my punching bag, is what the passphrase to access the eluvians is?"
Briala's eyes went wide with shock. That's what this was about? No. She could not let these people have the eluvians, no matter what. "I will never tell that to you!" Briala defied.
"You know what? I was hoping you'd say that." Velara chuckled, and she continued beating Briala like a marching drum.
~XoXoXo~
The winds were howling fiercely, like a thousand angry screams that wanted to insult the mountains. His legs were hurting from walking this far, but he had to keep going. Cole had been following the trail the angry elves lefts behind when they took his friends. The angry elves left no tracks, so he had to follow the anger and pain they left behind as they walked. It was hard, but he was able to follow.
Good thing they weren't able to see him. They defeated the other so quickly, but they weren't able to see him, and now he can rescue his friends. The masked angry elf who hurt Rajmael was different from the others. There was a terrible aching pain inside him. So much sorrow, hate and anger, but there was also love, pride and determination too. He was happy to see Rajmael, but he hurt him. Why would he hurt someone he was happy to see?
Cole was close to the mountains, the trail of anger was getting stronger. Soon he would find where the angry elves were, and he could find his friends. The trail stopped dead right at the sheer side of a tall mountain. Cole looked up and saw that it was very high. The trail of anger somehow floated up there, and that's where his friends are. Cole was nervous, he didn't like climbing. Gravity didn't like it when people were too high up and wanted hug them back to the ground, no matter how messy it was. Unless they were birds, the winds and gravity liked birds. Sometimes Cole wishes he could be a bird. Cole began to grab the rocks that were strong and friendly, while ignoring the winds angry howling. Soon he would be with his friends again, and he could help them. He just hoped they weren't hurting right now.
Author's Note:
Dragon Age and all of its content are the propter of the BioWare Gaming Company. I own and claim nothing.
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The Way of Shadow: Part III is coming up next. So keep an eye out.