Chapter 19; White her garb, black her heart and red her cause

Characters of the chapter

Julius Argentus, Magister of the Tevinter Imperium, commander of the 1st expeditionary legion of Tevinter

Niria Khaleesi of the Dothraki

Pet slave and blood thrall to Tiraen Tasvius

Tiraen Tasvius Magister of the Tevinter Imperium, ambassador to Meereen, commander of the 5th expeditionary legion of Tevinter, formerly apprentice to Magister Cato Argos.

Morzol zo Raqun King of Meereen, elected supreme speaker for the Resurgent Masters of Meereen

Cursive/Bold text is in Valyrian

Tiraen flinched as an arrow just missed the flank of her horse and imbedded itself on the ground. A couple more arrows bounced off of Pet's armor, the giant of a man apparently completely unfazed by the projectiles. It was another day of battle, another day fighting as part of a square formation. After they had received their reinforcements their two legions had been on a long march to Vaes Dothrak. Along the way there had been sporadic fighting with Dothraki forces. Remnants of the horde they had vanquished, still fighting, trying to stop the imperial advance. Nothing that could actually pose a threat to their legions though. Just enough to be an annoyance. Like several times before, scouts had informed their army of a group of Dothraki on approach and a task force was sent to deal with it. Today the task had been given to elements from her legion. Two other forces of her allies were close by, screening her flanks just in case there were more Dothraki about than they knew about. But the brunt of the fighting belonged to her troops sent here. For her part she was more than happy to indulge their enemy's wish to battle them. Every Dothraki warrior slain was gone forever. One more step on the road to their total annihilation.

Perhaps in response to the disastrous casualties their people had sustained, the Dothraki were behaving in a very atypical manner compared to their usual tactics. There was no headlong charge against the Tevinter square, no attempt to break their formation through brute force alone. Instead the Dothraki were riding in a circle in front of the square. As each warrior was at the point closest to the Imperial formation in their cycle they fired their bow, resulting in a continuous stream of projectiles peppering Tevinter shields. Her own archers and mages were returning fire as best they could, but the constant sideways motion was making their enemy hard to hit. It was a standoff, either side only able to do limited damage against the other.

Eventually Tiraen decided enough was enough. She called a number of her fellow mages present to her side, a good dozen of them in total. "Lend me your strength, my friends." She told them.

As the group of mages began pooling their magic together Tiraen considered what kind of a spell to unleash. She settled on a trick that had saved her life in Valyria, an excellent spell for tight spots. Or in decisively ending an annoying engagement that stood to drag on far too long otherwise.

When the buildup of energy had reached its peak, their spell was unleashed. Electricity flowed from the hands of every mage around her, connecting with her staff. From there an eruption of lightning jumped towards the dothraki, connecting with the ones closest to the imperial line. From there it jumped from rider to rider, killing each it touched, travelling along the circle in the opposite direction the Dothraki had been rotating. Half the circle was gone before the spell abated, the rest of the horse-savages fleeing in disorder.

The square waited for a time to see if their enemy would return or another group showed. When none came they dispersed and went to deal with the enemy dead and the handful of survivors that were still present. Their enemy was handled like they always were: The dead had their braids cut off, beheaded and left to rot were they lay. The living were forcibly shaved, their scalps burned, then herded elsewhere to await transport. The sight of her troops processing their enemies this way reminded her of the pledge she had given during the great battle at the mountain pass. "We shall destroy them until naught but corpses and slaves remain." That was exactly what the imperials were doing, Horse-Savage by Horse-Savage.

It had not escaped Tiraen's notice how easily the dothraki had been routed. Most times in the past this enemy fought on almost to the point of total annihilation, the shame of admitting defeat keeping them in the battle until only a handful were left. But more and more of late moderate or even light casualties were enough to rout them. And those they encountered, their expressions, something was different.

When looking at the faces of the dothraki there had always been anger, hatred, contempt, and those were still there. But something new had been added to the mix.

Fear.

It was not the dothraki way to allow such emotions to be seen by others. Not even amongst their own. Such was seen as weakness, and for the Horse-Savages weakness meant a person had no right to be alive. So good were they at pretending not to feel fear in the past Tiraen had at times wondered if they were indeed untouched by terror. But with the evidence from these recent engagements had confirmed that they had been pretending the whole time. Now the façade had been shattered by the blades and spells of the Imperial hosts.

A messenger rode to her, bringing her attention to him.

"My Lady Magister, Magister Argentus has sent me to report that there has been no enemy activity east of your positions." Said the messenger.

Another messenger joined the moments later, this one in the uniform of the Meereenese auxiliary troops. "Lady Tasvius, His Majesty King Morzol zo Raqun wishes me to inform you that there has been no Dothraki to the west of your force." The man said. The forces of the Meerenese King had been seeing some action, testing themselves against the now weakened Horse-Savages, gaining valuable battlefield experience that way. Despite the King officially having command of his troops here, she suspected the actual decisions were being made by the auxiliary legion's appointed commanders, the King merely giving their commands legitimacy through his name and his presence. After all, every auxiliary legion had two such commanders, one Tevinter and one local. Despite being politically shrewd and despite the reputation he wanted to project, as far as Tiraen knew the King did not have significant knowledge of battlefield tactics or strategies. At the most he was now being taught such things by those more knowledgeable.

"Excellent news. We will be finishing matters here and performing one more scouting mission to double check. I strongly advise the commanders of both your armies to do likewise. Either way, once my force has completed their tasks we will be returning to the main force." She told both of them and sent them on their way.

As she had half expected the scouts found nothing aside from a few enemy stragglers that had lost their horses or had been too wounded to get very far away from the battlefield. The scouts slew any they were able to catch, then returned to her. She turned her troops back towards their main army, the groups of Julius and zo Raqun joining her along the way. The next several days passed uneventfully on the march, the enemy not returning to challenge them. Tiraen suspected their foe no longer had the ability to field numbers large enough to launch a meaningful attack against the Imperial war host. If so then utterly removing the Dothraki's ability to resist them had to be imminent. It would not be the end of the task before them, but it was gratifying to know the military threat represented by the Horse-Savages was fading and would soon be gone. Her people had been at war with them almost from the moment they had set foot on this continent, smaller raids and clashes occurring constantly between larger dothraki invasions.

This enemy people had been the proxies of the Dragon Queen, extending her will to this continent. In their destruction the first blow against her Kingdoms had now been successfully delivered, taking from her what had at one time formed the bulk of her army. This was no longer entirely the case, but nevertheless this drastically reduced the numbers she could call upon.

Vaes Dothrak, the only city their enemy had, was now close. Once they were there this would finally be over.

The day finally arrived. When she received word that their target was in sight, she took pet with her rode to the head of the column along with the King and all the other magisters accompanying the army. Several units of their army marched right behind them along the road. The rest spread about, approaching the city along a wide front.

When she laid eyes upon the Dothraki city was not much to look at. A mass of tents and low buildings made of wood, straw and sun-dried clay. For the Dothraki their riders were the only wall they needed, so none circled the city.

She had known more or less what to expect, but even so a part of her felt like there should be more here. Over the years Vaes Dothrak had developed a little bit of a mythical reputation amongst her people. The beating heart of their enemy, the capital of a brute nation bent on their destruction. A place from which danger, death and destruction to the citizens of the Imperium radiated out into the world like rays from a false sun. A constant threat on the horizon, always beyond the reprisals of their armies.

Though to tell the truth the army approaching now were not the first Tevinters ever to come here and survive. Spies had often been here, helping Tevinter win the war by providing much needed information of Dothraki intentions and by bringing death to their foe. By the Dothraki laws it was forbidden to shed blood in their city, but under the direction of the Venatori Loyalists counless nights had been turned to orgies of carnage in the name of Tevinter Imperium. Now and then Dothraki warriors had fallen to poisons and daggers in the night, their dwellings burned to the ground while they slumbered within. A handful of time Dothraki Khals had been successfully assassinated, each time bringing chaos and confusion to their enemy, followed by slaughter as rival candidates to be the new Khal fought amongst themselves. But more often easier softer, targets that still yielded valuable results had been chosen. The wives and children of the warriors died, driving the normally unfazed Dothraki into states of blind rage, sending them charging against imperial battle lines, where they too died. Their horses died, thinning out in the only physical currency by which the Dothraki measured their wealth, some brought to shame when their last rides died, forced to fight in dishonor on foot, and die against better imperial infantry. The old women of the Dosh Khaleen died, depriving the Dothraki of their counsel. In response to the deaths visited upon them the dothraki had done all they could, scouring their city and the nearby hills, but rarely finding any of the imperial operatives.

As their group passed beneath a pair of enormous horse statues, she turned her eyes upwards to gaze upon them.

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but isn't the god of the Dothraki a Great Stallion. Most likely being depicted in those statues." She asked of Julius.

"I seem to remember that being the case." He replied.

"And is it not the custom of the dothraki to bring statues depicting the gods of people they have defeated back here, to commemorate their achievement?" She asked.

"So I understand. Where are you going with this?" He said.

"Oh, it's nothing really. I just had a thought. I'm going to be sending a work crew here later on to bring those statues down and prepare them for transportation. I'll have then sent home, placed right outside the gates of Minrathous." She explained.

"Planning to mock the Dothraki customs in addition to destroying them as a people? I must say, when you commit to a cause, you fully commit." He said.

Tiraen chuckled. "I think you knew that about me."

"Aye, I do. It's one more thing I like about you." He said with a smile.

They continued onwards. She would have expected something to happen as the army approached, a force come forth or at least the sight of people fleeing the city. But nothing happened. She saw no sign of the Dothraki. The only sounds to be heard were wind and the sounds of their troops. Where was everybody?

It was starting to look as if the place was abandoned. As they went amongst the buildings of the city without encountering resistance Cato began to send units of the army to search the area, to look for their enemy of clues as to where they might have gone. Tiraen and Julius dismounted and joined the search as a team. Pet walked right behind them, with King Morzol huddling close to him for protection. The King looked rather spooked to be here despite the presence of Pet, two magisters and a contingent of his personal guards as well as Tevinter foot soldiers searching the place with them. Apparently Tevinters were not the only ones for whom this place held almost a mythical reputation.

"Hrrm… this was a home once. I remember wandering the world, but always we would return here." Pet unexpectedly spoke in a deep rumbling voice, almost startling Tiraen. She could not recall the last time she had hear Pet utter words. She had actually forgotten he possessed the ability to speak at all.

"Once a home. But now you have no home. And the memories you speak of belong to another, one that existed before you were forged from his flesh. That first person is dead, and only you remain." She said when she had recovered from her surprise.

"Yes. That man is dead, and I belong not in this place like he did." Pet concurred. "The memories I carry of his life are meaningless. Yet I remember them even so."

Tiraen returned her attention back to the search, opening the flap of a nearby tent and looking inside. The confines of the tent were dark, so she shone a light from her staff for illumination. As expected, the tent was devoid of any occupants. The insides of the tent were in chaos, various items of Dothraki make haphazardly scattered on the floor. An upturned kettle lay on the ground, the food within spilled on the dusty ground. The kettle had apparently been knocked over hard enough to scatter half-burned wood and ash all over the tent. The food remnants had started to turn but were still intact enough to recognize them for what they were. There had been people here fairly recently, hours of days earlier perhaps. In all probability whoever had lived here had left in a hurry, taking as many possession with them as possible and abandoning the rest.

This was good news. If their enemy had been here a few days ago at most, there was still a chance of catching up to them. Destroying this place was all well and good and something the Imperials intended to do. But without the people living here the meaningfulness of the act would be diminished, particularly when the buildings in question were as meager as this. Without a doubt it would be much better to find and eliminate the remaining Dothraki. With some fortune the scouts would discover their location, even if the enemy was no longer here. If not, there were other options that could be attempted. Searching for their enemy in the fade might yield results. The items here and elsewhere in the city could prove useful in that regard. They had been owned by someone. With the aid of proper rituals the items could be linked back to whom they belonged to, making finding them in the Fade much easier.

She stood up and was about to inform Julius of her conclusions before he suddenly shouted: "Watch out!"

Before Tiraen could understand what was going on, Julius used his magic to create a gush of wind that deflected a flurry of arrows that had been sent flying toward them. If not for Julius's intervention their small group would have been slain before any of them could have reacted. But there was no time to thank him for his actions.

Tiraen's eyes darted around, trying to see where the arrows had come from. Then she saw that Dothraki archers had appeared on the rooftops of several buildings, some aiming at them, the rest targeting other Tevinter units on the streets. More rushed out from inside the buildings and tents, engaging the Imperials in sword fights. She also happened to catch a glance of riders charging in from the hills overlooking the city.

Julius turned his arcane weapon into the form of a shield, using it and blasts of wind to deflect arrows coming their way while returning fire with bolts of pure energy at every possible opportunity. Tiraen sent a wave of force magic into the upper part of the building closest to her, killing two archers there. The structure must have been shoddily built, because it collapsed from the impact, burying all remaining archers on that roof in the rubble. A Dothraki on foot tried to rush them, only to be literally cut to pieces by Pet's swords. Many other opponents were battling the Tevinter soldiers that had come here with them. While all this was going on the Meereenese bodyguards had formed a protective circle around their King. In ages past rulers of that city might have had a cadre of current or former slaves likely to break ranks and flee at the first sign of serious resistance unless they were truly elite troops like the Unsullied. But these were free citizens of Meereen, trained by Tevinter soldiers and taught to believe in this cause and fight for it. They held their ground, cutting down the horse-savages that came near.

From the corner of her eye Tiraen noticed another enemy flung high above the rooftops lifted close to twenty meters in the air before his ascension turned into a death plummet. That spell was one of Cato's signature moves. He too must have been engaged. Her mentor was an extremely capable fighter event at his age, but she could not help but be a little concerned for him. But there was little time to concentrate on anyone's survival but those in their immediate area.

In the labyrinth of the streets the battle proved to be chaotic. No room for formations and fancy tactics. Just kill the enemy and try to not to die until one of those were no longer possible. Not the way the Imperium would have wanted to fight any enemy. In all likelihood this disorder resulted in heavier casualties for their side than would have been sustained otherwise. But even catching the Tevinters off balance and at a disadvantage was not enough for the Dothraki to claim a victory. Through the sheer brute force of numbers the imperials began to win the battle cleaning out the opposition street by street, building by building.

Towards the end of the battle a dozen Dothraki rode right past them, the Tevinter and Meereenese infantrymen jumping out of their way. Leading the group was… a woman? It was a sight that was enough to make Tiraen blink, briefly thinking her eyes were deceiving her. This was certainly a new thing. This was the first time she had seen a woman fighting on the side of the Dothraki. Before it was only their men who fought.

She ducked under a swipe from an arakh, the edge of the sword missing her head only by a hair's breath. She unleashed a cone of lighting in retaliation, killing almost all of the riders except the woman and one other. Julius cut down the one remaining man as he rode by him. For a moment it looked like the woman might get away, but then Pet tossed one of his swords with incredible power, the blade impaled through the horse's head. The horse fell and it's rider was thrown to the ground in a cacophony of dust and shouting. The woman picked herself up from the ground and was at once surrounded by Tevinter soldiers.

"Be careful! We are taking that one alive!" Tiraen shouted to her men.

The woman for her part made no effort to surrender, trying to fight off the Tevinters, swinging wildly around herself. Tiraen used force magic to take a hold of the woman's legs and yank her off her feet. The woman fell face first to the ground, bloodying her chin as she hit the ground. The Tevinters were on her in seconds, taking a hold of her arms and pressing her to the ground, Tiraen still holding on to her legs with her magic. They worked her fingers loose, taking her sword from her. Then someone found rope and they bound the woman's hands behind her back. The woman struggled, tossed her head, cursed and shouted at the soldiers in her language the whole time.

The ultimately short battle had come to its end, and the woman was dragged to Tiraen, planted on her knees before the mage, two soldiers holding her by the shoulders. Tiraen knelt down herself looking into the Dothraki's eyes.

"Well well… what have we here?" She wondered, a slight smile ghosting on her lips.

"Pet, would you mind translating for me? I presume you still remember how to speak dothraki." She said next.

"No need to bother your creature. I speak your tongue, invader." The woman unexpectedly spoke up, glaring at the mage poisonously. She had a thick accent, but she spoke fluently enough.

"You do? Well isn't that convenient. How did this come to pass?" Tiraen asked, surprised for the second time today.

The woman gave a vicious smile. "Caught a few serpent-men merchants once. Decided it would be useful to know your words. So we made them teach us… before we killed them."

"I see." Tiraen said, her voice having turned a fraction colder. "Your people have paid in blood for that atrocity and others. A second payment will be exacted from them soon. You too will pay, make no mistake about that. But first, some questions. Who are you?"

"You don't have the right to demand my name. I am your enemy, and that is all you need to know." The woman said.

"Fine, enemy. Where have your people gone and what do they intend to do there?" Tiraen asked next.

"They are safe from you. That is all I have to say to you. You might as well kill me now, if that is what you intend. I won't answer any of your questions." The woman said.

"You won't tell me? We will see about that." Tiraen said. She raised her hand and planted a finger on the woman's cheek. At her touch, the Dothraki recoiled and tried to move her face away, but one of the soldiers grabbed her by the hair, keeping her head still. A pale spot or wrinkled skin started spreading from where Tiraen had placed her finger. Tiraen slowly withdrew her finger, pulling a thin string of red light with it.

"What are you doing? N-no. Stop!" The woman said, clearly in considerable pain from what Tiraen was doing despite her attempt to conceal it.

Tiraen yanked the string of light free, the Dothraki's cheek returning to its normal as more blood rushed in to replace what Tiraen had taken. The light swirled around Tiraen's fingers for a time before being drawn inside her palm. Tiraen then snapped her fingers creating a small shower or red sparks. The Dothraki woman gasped, her eyes blown wide as there was a flash of red light deep within then. The Dothraki tried to fight off the effects she felt on her mind, but Tiraen's magic was much too strong. Her eyes glossed over, a vacant smile growing on her lips as the blood magic did its work, and in moments Tiraen felt the woman's resistance melt away, becoming pliant and hers to command.

"There… that's much better. Now you will answer all of my questions, won't you?" Tiraen asked.

"Yes… yes, of course." Said the Dothraki.

The woman's name was Niria. She was a one of the Khaleesi of the Dothraki, the equivalent if a Queen for other peoples of the world. She was freshly widowed, the Khal she had married having died in the battle in the mountain pass. Properly she should have joined the Dosh Khaleen, but there had been not time to observe that tradition and unusual circumstances had resulted in it being ignored altogether. In the wake of their great defeat the Dothraki had been in chaos. Their remaining Khals had all died in that battle, along with their adult sons and bloodriders, leaving little by the way of lines of succession. Only uncharacteristic call for reason had prevented the Horse-Savages from tearing themselves into a million pieces over the right to rule, the threat of the Imperium recognized as one that necessitated abandoning internal rivalries in the name of survival. Niria and a bunch of others had come to informally lead their people.

These small battles that had occurred on the way here had been their doing. At first they had tried to stop the Imperial advance by any means necessary. When it became clear there was no stopping the Tevinter army bearing down on them they had sought to buy time while they considered what to do. A great argument had broken out between the Dothraki at that point. Some had advocated retreating to a land beyond the Imperium's reach and starting anew there. Others were unwilling to admit defeat even at such a dark moment, wanting to defend Vaes Dothrak to the last man even if it would mean their end. *If they had already lost, why not end things in the most glorious manner possible* had been their argument. As the debate had stretched on and on and the Imperial army had drawn ever nearer, many had chosen not to wait on a resolution, instead scattering to the winds with their closest family and friends, seeking to save themselves by becoming too small a target for Tevinter to effectively track them down.

"Those smaller groups will be hard to find now." Tirane thought to herself. Their spies might be able to locate some. But if the Dothraki were smart they would avoid settled places and keep a low profile, making them almost impossible to find except through a chance encounter with a patrol or a caravan. But she would dispatch her hounds anyway. She was not about to willingly allow any of the Horse-Savages to slip between her fingers.

Niria meanwhile continued the story Tiraen had coaxed out of her. Eventually a compromise of sorts had been reached. The bulk of the remaining Dothraki had left to go further east, hoping to take refuge the lands of Jhogos Nhai. But they had reached their decision only hours before the army got there. So those who had wanted to stay had done so to buy as much time for the others as possible, fighting the imperial forces to the last warrior. Niria had volunteered to lead them, designing this whole ambush from basically zero experience. Quite impressive for one so inexperienced, but ultimately futile.

Most importantly Niria also revealed the intended route of the fleeing Dothraki and that they had a few hundred warriors left at most, those too young or old, sick or injured to have taken part in other battles. They would not withstand an attack of any significant strength. And while they had horses they would not be as quick as an actual Dothraki horde would be. They could be caught.

"Good. That is very helpful." Tiraen said. "But now what should be done with you? I could kill you I suppose. But does that not seem like it's not quite enough? Yes, surely there are better options." She then pondered. Niria did not react to Tiraen's contemplation, merely continuing to smile vacantly, still under the haze of the blood magic controlling her mind. Odds were she was not even properly aware of what was going on.

"After all, you are not just anyone. You are a Khaleesi, one of the few leaders your people have left. You are a symbol, a representation of all that you are. And for creatures like you…" She paused to take a look at Pet. "…a quick death simply a kindness you do not deserve. And you must have known you'd lose going against us with so few. You must have expected to die, maybe even wanted to. It seems only fitting I deny you if that is the case. So what is a more deserved fate instead?"

"Oh, I know!" Tiraen then said. "Captain, come over here please." She said, motioning to one of the soldiers.

"You see this man? You are to go with him. He will bring you to others. You are to do whatever they tell you to. Do whatever you can to please all of them. Do you understand?" She asked of Niria.

"Yes. I shall obey." Niria said, giving a bow of her head. There had been a flicker of resistance in her eyes, crushed back under almost instantly by the spell. She had more awareness than Tiraen had initially guessed. Some part of her had been able to understand what was about to happen, but was powerless to do anything to prevent it. She'd be screaming on the inside the whole way through then. "How delightful." Tiraen thought.

Tiraen turned back to the Captain. "I want the Captains of each company under my command to nominate a soldier who has performed the best during the Battle of the Pass or the fights that have taken place since. No self-nominations. This is for the rank and file. For those you pick, this one is their reward tonight. I ask that they leave her alive and intact and deliver her to the slavers when they are done with her. Beyond that they may do as they like."

"Oh before I forget, ensure these men are included in the group." She added, motioning to the soldiers around her. "They were the ones to catch her, which led to us getting vital information. It seems only fair they get to enjoy the spoils after that."

"Will that spell hold?" Asked the Captain.

"I believe so, for a day at least. If it starts to look like it's waning faster than expected you can send word for me and I can reapply it." She said nonchalantly.

"Very well. And on behalf of the men, thank you. I'm sure that a gift like this will be appreciated. Let it never be said that you do not reward competent service." The Captain said with a nod.

"She's in for a rough night." Julius commented as they watched the Captain lead the Dothraki away. To her surprise she could hear a measure of pity in his voice.

"Certainly. That is the whole point, from beginning to end. You know that my compassion is reserved to our own and those of our allies that have proved themselves useful. Those are the only ones. To our enemies I have nothing but contempt. Them I will hurt at every opportunity. Even in this manner. And why shouldn't I? These scum have been at war with us for ears and have slain many of us. If they could have, they would have destroyed us. I have done nothing to them they were not prepared to do to us." Tiraen said.

"You would likewise do well to save your pity and your mercy to those more deserving. It's wasted on these beasts." She added.

"Now we should ta advantage of what we have learned." She concluded, and went to the Meereenese King nearby. The King looked a little spooked still, but had emerged from the ordeal unhurt.

"Your Majesty, the bulk of the surviving Dothraki are several hours journey northeast of here, most likely close to a stream where they will be taking on as much water possible for the next step in their journey. Mostly civilians and unlikely to be able to offer organized resistance. If we act immediately we can catch them. To that end I want you to prepare your cavalry. The cavalry from my legion and that of Magister Argentus will join with them and together we will hunt the enemy down. I will double check with Magister Argos before we leave, but I'm certain he will sanction the mission. Once we find our target the order will be simple. We shall claim those Dothraki we wish as merchandise… and destroy the rest. None are to live unless they are in chains. That is Tevinter's will. This is understood?" She told him.

"Yes, of course." Said the King.

"Good. Go now, and have your men prepared. We will depart shortly." She said.

Morzol departed, and only when she walked off in search for Cato did what she had managed to do fully compute. She had given him a command. A direct command, not one veiled as a request or a suggestion. Most importantly the command had been swallowed without complaint or even comment. The simplicity of the act belied its significance. Rulers were commonly prickly when it came to their rule, quick to react to any perceived slight or challenge to their authority. How long had it been since a mage of Tevinter could issue an order to a King and expect obedience? Not since the golden age of the Tevinter Imperium, when their rule over the then known world had been undisputed. Yet now she had managed to do so. And she not even the highest Imperial authority on this continent.

The realization of this made her smile with satisfaction as she strode onwards. Truly this was a glorious age to be alive. An age or reclamation for Tevinter at long last. So long spent on the defensive, centuries of slow decay and destruction, desperately holding on to what remained while their enemies encroached them. Centuries of grinding war with the Qunari, chipping away at the Imperium's beleaguered military. No more. She would get to watch her people's resurgence and help to make it happen.

A glorious age indeed.