Chapter Sixteen: Spirits in the Sky
The Marquis de la Fayette, Lord Samuel Hunt of the United Nations of Earth hereby exchanges pledges of honour and allegiance with Baron Pierre des Arbes of the Empire of Orlais, Lord of Hearth and the Dalish Hearthlands. Their friends shall be one, and their enemies shall be one. From the date set hereby, both shall ever raise their swords in the common defence of each other, and both shall defend the Hearthlands with their lives. The Baron Hearth, in recognition of this, grants the Marquis de la Fayette the manor of Ancienmaison. The Marquis de la Fayette, in recognition of his disposition, grants the Baron Hearth overlordship over him and his holdings, including appropriate troop levies, taxes and Chantry tithes.
Witnessed at Ancienmaison, in Solace of the thirty-eighth year of the Dragon Age, by Revered Mother Héloise Brandon, Mother of Hearth.
This was the pledge I signed after a rather tedious religious ceremony involving the threat to our immortal souls should we be lying about our pledges. My signature on it was a random scribble, as I could hardly set down my actual name in Latin letters for them. Armen was sent away beforehand by the Mother as to not sully the ritual, which he was quite glad about. Ciara went with him to go hunting instead, as we had yet to eat anything but nearly-stale bread. My stomach was grumbling throughout the chanting, and I think I wore down my teeth grinding them.
When it was over, the Baron rode off with his retainers first, followed shortly by Mother Brandon. The latter was very quiet after the ceremony, almost melting into the background as I shook hands with des Arbes. This struck me as strange, given the Chantry's reputation that Armen had built up in my mind and what Julie had said about this particular cleric. I expected a lecture, a stern warning or even a death threat should I not comply with the laws on the matter of magic. I was a little relieved when none of those possibilities materialised, putting it down to noble privilege. I should have been suspicious instead.
I led Julie, Tam, Leha, Élodie and Claire around the château for about an hour, firelance still at the ready. It turned out that eastern ground floor corner rooms were reception halls of some kind, chandeliers still in place, varnished wooden floors and wall panels in perfect condition. The basement had metal cages on it that we couldn't open, guarding a large wine cellar that hadn't been emptied and areas for food storage. So we were now apparently the owners of a lot more booze than we had anticipated. It was too grand for the likes of me, but I put a brave face on. After all, it appeared that Julie still hadn't told her sisters of the real situation. For their own protection, you understand, they were not warriors.
Both were very impressed by our new manor, at least. Though how the hell we were possibly going to live there was a mystery, never mind maintain the whole noble image. The expense would be massive, as far as I could tell. Something told me that blagging through it for a month wasn't going to cut it. Which is why that wasn't the plan.
Long story short, we all ended up back in Julie's courtyard in Hearth, having a lunchtime barbecue of halla and nug roasted over a huge fire. I had wondered previously why there was a pit in the middle of the place, but I guess my question was answered. There was a decent stew going too, if I recall correctly. We dragged the table from the kitchen and sat around it eating and joking about Leha falling drunk on it, talking about nothing important in particular. There was some talk about how casual I was for a noble, despite clearly acting like one at other times. It was fairly easy to explain that my countrymen used that sort of meal to relax and talk with their fellows regardless of class. So it was all very lighthearted. Well, until the inevitable questions came up.
Of course, it was Élodie who asked, being the sensible one. She even made sure most of the others were involved in their own talk before asking.
"So, Marquis... What do you intend to do in Orlais?" she asked, "Now that you must stay in Hearth." Clearly, the terms of our false arrangement had been explained to her in detail. I could only gawk at how much like Julie she looked like for a moment, freshly reminded of it by her question. Their faces were nearly identical, except for the brown eyes. She had remained pretty quiet until then, unlike Claire who was talking rapidly to Tam.
"I intend to live quietly," I said, "Keep my head down, avoid any trouble, and enjoy myself if I can." While I wait for the air cavalry, I might have added.
"So you won't play the Game?" asked Élodie, eyes narrowed. Concern for her sister was what I saw.
"How can I?" I replied with shrug, "I'm a foreigner."
Both she and Julie laughed at the absurdity of that, and I smiled, knowing that it would be impossible to keep out of the politics of the land after declaring myself a noble. Not to mention the machinations of the Baron and the Revered Mother, both of which I foresaw would be a serious problem. However, I was confident. It was only temporary.
"You're now a landed knight of Orlais," said Julie, shaking her head with a grin, "Your name will be registered with the Council of Heralds in Val Royeaux. Maybe no one will care, because we don't have very much land. Or maybe every noble in the Dales may ask themselves who you are." Good thing I hadn't stuck with Clint Eastwood as a name, or I might have been in trouble. Though I still intended to avoid every social occasion that the Baron would probably host, for fear of meeting his wife and being exposed.
"How do you know so much about what happens between nobles here?" I asked Julie, finding it odd.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Julie replied, before eating a small piece of halla. She was teasing me again.
"A piece of advice, my dear sister; don't keep secrets from your betrothed," Élodie said, "She has been involved in many... incidents with the nobility before. Often with less than respectable company." Respectability was evidently a value that Élodie placed highly, albeit not at the expense of her relationship with her family. It was actually rather amusing, considering her age.
"It is not my fault that the only people who want to make some coin at the expense of the chevaliers are thieves and whores," shrugged Julie, "It's funny though, one of those incidents is how I met Pierre." Élodie's lip curled up in disapproval, but she said nothing, instead taking a swig from the ale in front of her in the most lady-like fashion she could. Like I said, proper at all times. The last part of Julie's response intrigued me.
"How did you meet the Baron?" I asked. Which almost caused Élodie to spray out her drink, before she swallowed and began coughing. Leha turned from listening to Armen and Ciara to us instead, with a decidedly neutral face. Signs that the story was a good one, at least. Even if my question was unexpected.
"I was in a chevalier's house during a party with a few other people," Julie explained, "Looking out for trouble in a servant disguise while a friend did something." A friend quite possibly meaning Leha, but I didn't stop her.
"So along comes the Baron up the corridor, taking off his mask," she continued, "Our eyes meet, and then... well, he isn't exactly ugly, is he? I had to do something." He was many things, but ugly wasn't one of them, I have to admit. The implication being that they jumped into a storeroom or something. To be honest, I would have done the same thing if given half the chance.
"Julie, this isn't a good thing to talk about," said Élodie with a grimace, "I mean, you're supposed to be pure before marriage. Or at least pretend to be."
"He asked!" said Julie, "Should I lie?"
"No, but..." Élodie began again.
"It is no problem," I sighed, "I don't mind. Don't worry about it."
The middle sister stared at me for a moment. "You are more tolerant than some, Marquis," she said at last, "You truly are an aristocrat." Not sure if that was meant to be a compliment, but I took it at face value. The nobles in any society get away with more improprieties.
"So you're not a little angry?" Julie asked flatly. Not sure if she was disappointed that I wasn't jealous or just surprised. Alas, that sort of thing is water under the bridge for me.
"No," I said sincerely, "Not even slightly." After all, who was with her now? Well, who was sharing her with a beautiful Qunari exile, to be more accurate. I looked over at Tam. She seemed to be having fun telling a story to Claire. I doubted she cared either. In fact, I was sure she already knew.
"Aww, isn't that nice," remarked Leha, "The guy gets the girl, the girl gets to be a marquise, everyone is happy." Her cynicism made me want to throw a little of my drink her way, except it was too warm to waste it in such a way. I settled for a rude gesture, once I was sure that Élodie couldn't see. The dwarf returned it immediately. She always did see Julie as playing the angles whenever I saw her as doing good, though given what has happened, both viewpoints on the subject of my lover's motivations may in fact be valid. It's a difficult thing to want to change the world, and it makes you hard.
Phrasing.
"And who would pass up such an opportunity?" Élodie asked, the question rhetorical, "It seems like a wonderful opportunity." She herself had married as much to climb the social ladder as for love, though the latter was there in her case. I spoke to her husband very rarely, and their personalities were quite similar. Or perhaps it was just their ideas about manners.
"Orlesians," sneered Leha, "Almost as bad as the dwarva who stick to the caste rules up top. I swear, can't you just find someone who has your back and stick, instead of all this manoeuvring?"
I gazed at her in surprise. "I didn't take you to be a sentimentalist, Leha," I said, before taking a gulp of ale.
"It's not about sentiment, it's about trust," she said, "Most people are trying to play each other. Play the Game, as you lot would say. It's only right that you have at least one person you can trust."
"And where is yours, hm?" joked Julie, a little cruelly.
"I don't go for tall folk," Leha insisted, "Unfortunately, most surface dwarva are thieves, liars and/or murderers. Not exactly great material to work with." Considering she was at least two of the three, that was rich.
"All the better than I found someone who isn't a thief, a liar or a murderer then," said Julie. I had to restrain a laugh, as I had stolen, lied and killed in the past two weeks or so. All to survive, yes, but despite the fates throwing everything they could at me, it still felt like my fault somehow. Not least events like the battle on the hilltop against Duval's men.
"Do you know when you're getting married?" Élodie asked, moving the conversation in a less Leha-oriented direction, "I can't imagine it will be soon."
"No, we're going to wait," Julie said, "Summerday next year seems likely." Her sister nodded her head with approval.
"Good, that's the best time for it," she said, "The Maker blesses those who marry then." She patted her belly slightly, showing what she meant by that. I had almost forgotten she was pregnant, and the reminder was timely.
"Congratulations, by the way," I said, "I have many nephews and nieces. Children are funny. Though I'm told they are a lot of work."
"Thank you, Marquis," Élodie said, smiling at me for the first time, "I appreciate it." Her importance in the years to come was far from small, and without knowing it, I had laid yet another of the foundation stones for events to come.
A few hours later, Julie's sisters wished to return home as the sun began to get lower in the sky. Having still not seen the town in daylight, I offered to escort them back. They agreed, which I was glad for, and we picked up Tam to help too. Considering we were fully decked out in Earth-panoply, with our weapons and helmets on our belts, I doubted anyone would accost us on the street. Anyone who did would have died instantly, and not by my hand, but it wouldn't be necessary. We were going to have a pleasant walk back. In stark contrast of what the night would bring.
The streets were full of people still, going about the last business of the day before they would disperse for some leisure. Many were in hoods, a phenomenon I had noticed in Halamshiral but not fully understood. Of course, these were elves, looking to avoid trouble for being what they were. Hearth was in the Dales, so the majority of the population was elven, but the power rested with humans. A demonstration of both facts would be coming soon, little did I know. Nor were the elves the only ones donning headgear as a matter of course. Élodie and Claire had both put on half-masks, the latter in a light blue colour and the former with a decadent purple tone. Apeing the nobility was practically the mark of the middle class, as far as I could tell. All the merchants we passed on the road were wearing half-masks too. Status is very much visible in Orlais.
"Marquis, what brought you to our little corner of the world?" asked Claire, "The Far West is... far away." Thus spoke the youngest of the sisters in a manner Julie would have. She might not have looked like the eldest as much as the middle sibling, but her mannerisms were entirely the same; bordering on the whimsical at the best of times. I smiled at her words, the familiarity all too present.
"He's an explorer," said Élodie, before I could answer, "He came to discover and understand the people here. Perhaps to open the way to an invasion." That last assumption wiped out my smile, as it was a little too close to the truth for my liking. Not out of my own intentions of course, but if my countrymen did find a way to Thedas, they would want to take what they could. Élodie was clearly drawing from her own world's experience with Tevinter, the Qunari, perhaps even the darkspawn as well, so I spoke to reassure her.
"My job was to boldly go where no one had gone before, to seek out new life and new civilisations," I said in jest, arms raised outwards to gesture towards the town in general, "How dare you accuse me of being the vanguard to an attack!" Claire giggled a little, glancing at her sister.
"I'm sure those spiders would have disagreed," Élodie said, "Weapons the Qunari would cower at, strange manners, a whole other written language. You are a mystery, Marquis. A dangerous one, if there is an empire of people like you out there somewhere."
"I have no intention of staying mysterious, my lady," I lied, "I am here to explore, I'll need to talk to people." Intelligence gathering generally does require that. Or at least, listening to people. Élodie seemed content with that answer, walking along silently.
"What did you do before you became an explorer?" Claire asked.
"I was a soldier and a peacekeeper," I replied, having no reason to lie about that , "I still am, actually."
"So you upheld the law?" she said, "Like the Baroness?"
I frowned at the mention of Cecile des Arbes. I just couldn't get away from the fact she would recognise me instantly. It was hardly the time for thinking too much about that, so I answered quickly.
"I was sent to warzones to separate warring groups," I explained, "To protect people who weren't fighting, to make sure no one was violating the rules of war, to defeat those who were, and to rebuild villages and towns." Or in a lot of cases, to watch helplessly as people were slaughtered while awaiting authorisation to attack. At least, that's how it was in the early days of my time in the desert. The international politics of Earth are far more complex than that of Thedas, so not everyone was on board with attacking certain factions in the civil war we were sent to sort out. There were around two hundred countries when I left, and undoubtedly there are more now. If anyone's alive, that is.
"That's a strange thing," Claire remarked, "I think things would be better if we had something like that in Orlais."
I felt a pang of sympathy for her. Her father had been taken by armed conflict, after all, and it was clear that was what she would have wanted peacekeepers for. For the moment, I said nothing. Perhaps when my countrymen did arrive, they could put a stop to that sort of thing entirely. Peace through superior firepower. A phrase that shall probably be etched on not only my memorial, but that of Julie and Tam as well, incidentally. A pity, considering all I wanted to do was be left alone.
"Maybe it would be better," I conceded, "But I don't think your nobility would like such interference."
Élodie snorted at that. "They'd prefer to die, I think," she said, "I'm surprised your own kind allow it."
"Well, there's a reason for that," I said, "There were two wars, one a century ago and another about seventy years ago. They were bloody, unlike anything you can imagine. Kingdoms fell to pieces, and millions perished. After that, my nation and many others came together to prevent wars of that scale from happening again, because they threaten everyone."
"Sounds like a Blight," said Claire, "I don't really remember what happened when it happened last time, I was too young."
I reminded myself to ask Armen what a Blight was when I returned to the smithy, as this was now the second time the word had been used in my presence and I was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than a disease affecting potato harvests. Which is what a blight is on Earth.
"Be glad that you don't remember," I said, getting a hum of approval from Élodie in the process.
We finally reached a large house on a terrace, in a part of town that was slightly less dirty than the others and was a little less busy too. Gabled roof, large windows with shutters, arched doorway and fresh-looking paint on the walls. I was impressed. Evidently, Élodie's family did well for itself. Goods trade, in case you were wondering how exactly.
"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now," I said, "I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot more of you."
"Thank you, Marquis," Élodie replied, with a little curtsy, "I hope you treat my sister well."
"I will," I said.
The two sisters entered the house and the door shut. I headed back the way we had come, with more questions than answers and hoping I had made a good impression. The next month or two of waiting would be hell otherwise, I thought as I dodged gaggles of pedestrians.
When I returned, I found Julie in the forge building with Tam.
It was a tall and wide space made entirely of stone from top to bottom, with pieces of metalworking equipment tucked into every possible corner. Two forges dominated the space to either side, seemingly having different purposes. Tools were stored everywhere, and there were three anvils in the middle of the space. At the back were complete and incomplete products; a few sets of plate armour, weapons, farming tools, nails and arrowheads in boxes. Pretty much what you'd expect to see. I wandered over to the rear to examine some of these. Julie was busy fussing over some of the chainmail we had taken from the dead on the hilltop, trying to restitch a loop of metal into one of the holes I had made with my firelance while Tam watched in amusement. As you can imagine, both had changed clothes at this point. The forge wasn't a clean place.
"You going to stand over there forever?" asked Julie through her exertions, after a few minutes of me picking up swords and having a swing of them, "Did you get my sisters home?"
"Sorry, was just curious to see what sort of things you make. Your sisters are safe," I replied, placing a sword back on a rack, "What are you doing?"
"Getting these ready for sale," said Julie, "From what the Grand-Duke's chevalier told us, I think prices on armour are going to go up." I wondered a little if continuing her trade might blow the whole 'acting noble' cover, but I wasn't going to take it away from her for the sake of it. She'd probably shoot me if I tried, for a start.
"Will that bring in a lot?" I asked, hoping that the money would at least be handsome.
"A fortune, if her mutterings are right," said Tam, standing up and picking up another set, "We might be living in luxury for our last few months here." If only.
"We can hope," Julie said, holding up the chainmail to inspect it, "Once I get my apprentices back, we can even do some extra work to complete the sets, add some plate sections and gloves."
Armen walked in, seemingly without Ciara to my surprise. They were practically joined at the hip at this stage. The others kept working, so I inquired as to where the huntress had got to.
"At the fletcher again, inquiring about better arrows," Armen said with a wave of his hand, "After meeting those spiders, she wants some that can pierce thick hide better." I shrugged at that. It was a sensible precaution, one beyond her years in my opinion. Of all the people in our little group, I think she was the only one who shared my immediate fear for the future. Or perhaps she could sense my unease when I was out of eyeshot of Tam or Julie. I tended to forget all about any number of problems when I was with them.
"Actually, now that you're here, I have a question," I said, remembering my talk with Élodie and Claire on the way back.
"Well, I am a scholar," joked Armen, "I like questions. As long as I can answer them." A clear warning to keep off the topic of the Rebellion, that last part. Not that the Rebellion was the subject of my interest that evening.
"What is a Blight?"
Immediately, the sounds of work and movement from Julie and Tam halted. Armen's smile disappeared, as if choked. The chainmail was placed back on the floor. My friends looked between each other in confusion, with wide eyes and thinned lips. I had no idea what was wrong with the question, but from what they said afterwards, it's clear that they were at a loss as to how to explain. Not least because I was from a world where magic was non-existent, at least in the way they recognised, and the evil gods more than likely didn't exist either.
"I'll be right back," said Julie, brushing off her work clothes as she got up, "Take a seat."
She rushed out. I followed her exit as she strode out quickly, before grabbing one of the many wooden stools strewn about the place.
"Where's she going?" I asked.
"I can guess," said Armen, "We're going to need some help with this one."
I looked to Tam, and she shook her head, not knowing where Julie had went. The person in question returned several minutes later, with Ciara, a bottle of vodka and several cups in tow. My eyebrow raised at that. It was going to be one of those conversations. She poured everyone a drink, handing them out without a word, before sitting down on top of an anvil and nodding to Armen to begin. He drank a little before speaking.
"Ahh, where to start..." he said, eyes looking to the heavens.
"The magisters," said Julie firmly, "Start with them."
So Armen did, explaining everything from back to front. How the Tevinter magisters entered the Fade, the city within it, unleashing the darkspawn onto the world under the control of dark gods. How the foul creatures live underground, attacking the last dwarven kingdoms while digging to find more of their gods, and every couple of hundred years, rising to attack the kingdoms of the surface and destroy the world. He spoke about the Archdemons, how they led the hordes and that they were immortal save against a very special kind of warrior. The effects on people and the land seemed particularly horrendous, with the taint affecting crops, farm animals, corrupting people and even children born during blights were smaller. Finally, the mage spoke about the Grey Wardens and how they saved the world five times, the last time less than ten years before.
I was dumbfounded by the whole thing. If it wasn't for the seriousness of the atmosphere, made worse by the alcohol, I wouldn't have believed a word of it. Undead from underground, that eat men and turn women into living incubators for broods of more undead? Dragons leading armies to the doom of all? It sounded like apocalyptic prophesy to me, the sort of thing a deranged cultist would come up with. However, Julie's face told me all I needed to know about the truth of it, which added to her previous stories of tree demons, painted the picture that she had experienced some of its horrors first hand. The truth was that all of eastern Orlais still hadn't recovered from the effects of the crisis.
Which is why I began asking questions about the Fifth Blight.
"They stopped it though, right?" I asked, "I'm not likely to run into any darkspawn or archdemons while we're here."
"Darkspawn, perhaps. They sometimes raid the Dales," said Armen, dredging up the knowledge from the back of his mind, "But without the leadership of the Archdemon, they are much more easily defeated, and we probably won't see another of those for centuries." I would say that this was a naïve idea, but the evidence was firmly on our mage's side on this. We could not know about Corypheus and his plans.
"Your weapons should be effective against them," said Tam, "And with your... ability, you might even be able to kill an Archdemon." I breathed out heavily at that. Even if I could have, I had no intention of testing that theory, because that would have meant getting to within a swordswing of the damn thing. Considering they were dragons, and I had seen a dragon, up close and personal, I had no intention of going there.
"Without dying, you mean," I said, remembering the stories, "These Grey Wardens... they must be great men and women, to take on that burden." Drinking darkspawn essence seemed like an insane risk to me, at least if you aren't immune to that nonsense. Guaranteed suicide missions as a life long career seemed more par for the course though.
"They're heroes," said Ciara, "Even to the Dalish. The clans usually shun humans and other races, but a Grey Warden of any race can usually talk to them without being turned into a pincushion. Usually." The Dalish were troublesome in their prejudices like that, but we'll get to that part.
"Mages who don't like the Circles often join up too," Armen added, "Grand-Enchanter Fiona, our leader and the one who pushes us towards freedom, she was once a Grey Warden." That made sense to me. Of course the one leading the Rebellion had tasted freedom.
"I didn't think you could stop being one?" said Julie.
"It's complicated, and I don't know the whole story," Armen replied quickly, "but it makes me wonder if she could kill an Archdemon without dying as well."
"Well, the last Grey Warden to slay one didn't die when the last Blight was stopped," said Julie, "The Hero of Ferelden, as that country likes to call him. Maybe there are more exceptions to the rule than you know." Well, at least there's hope there, I thought. Knowing my luck, I reckoned three archdemons at least were bound to show up during our short stay. Dragons and demons had already put in an appearance.
"No one seems to know how he did it," said Armen, "Worse, he was Warden-Commander in Ferelden for a year or so, and then disappeared hunting some mage, or so the word is. I would love to know how he did it."
"You don't know?" said Tam, incredulously, "I thought everyone in the South knew?"
Heads turned to her like lightning, mine included. This was going to be good. Or very bad. Either way.
"You know how the Hero of Ferelden slew the Archdemon without perishing?" asked Armen, "How by Andraste's dimpled cheeks would you know something like that?"
"The Arishok... the leader of the armies of the Qun," replied Tam, "He was a Sten, a war leader, sent to investigate darkspawn during the Blight, and fought alongside Amell and his company, including King Alistair. He's quite fond of telling the story. " Both as a cautionary tale and as a political manoeuvre to demonstrate his experience of the South, no doubt. I've found the Qunari more politically divided than their facade would have us believe. Of course, the notion that Tam spoke to the supreme commander of Qun forces warranted some comment.
"Wait. You're on a story-hearing basis with the leader of all Qunari soldiers," I said, "Just how highly ranked were you?"
"I was a candidate to eventually replace the Ariqun on Seheron, remember? Or maybe to be Viddasala, I'm not sure," said Tam, "All three of our supreme leaders or their underlings would speak to us regularly, weeding out the weaklings and testing us. The Arishok was quite fond of me, as I was among the most insistent on the importance of military training among our young."
Given her skills, I was surprised she wasn't a soldier herself. Of course, only males could be soldiers under the Qun, though women served by changing their identity to that of a male. I guess she liked caring for children too much to abandon the duty for combat roles. She proved cut out for the latter at any rate.
"Yes yes, get to the part where you know how to survive killing an Archdemon," said Armen impatiently, "This is ground-breaking magic, if it's true." Which is probably why he should be let near it, but alas, I am always there to fish him out of the fire.
"Very well, saarebas, though I doubt you'll find the tale useful," said Tam, annoyed by his tone, "Amell travelled with a number of companions other than the Arishok. As well as King Alistair, there was a red-headed Orlesian bard, a dwarf beserker, an assassin from the Antivan Crows, another human mage who is quite high up in the Circles now..."
"Senior-Enchanter Wynne," interjected Armen with a small hint of disgust, "She opposes the Rebellion, the old soft..."
"A golem..." continued Tam, raising her voice slightly, "And apparently a dog, of which the Arishok can't seem to shut up about. They were all pawns for the last member of the group. A so-called Witch of the Wilds named Morrigan." That name was familiar to me.
"Morrigan," I said flatly, "The goddess?"
"You know of her?" asked Tam in surprise, "She's a goddess?"
"In some of our mythology, she was a goddess who offered great power temptations to heroes in return for her love or for some other task," I said, remembering some of it, "She is the goddess of both life and death, associated with cows and ravens." I loved the old myths of various Earth cultures, and I have to say it was among the favourites of mine. Mostly because it was so wacky. People turning into swans and wars fought over cattle. That sort of thing.
"Sounds like she needs to make up her mind," said Julie, "Crows and cows? Life and death? I do not understand." The story has nuances beyond that sort of thing, but like I said, I liked it for its strangeness. Morrigan was fond of lending her favour to warriors, and as I was planning to be a warrior, the idea of a goddess offering herself to me along with the strength to win was appealing. The Hero of Ferelden was evidently of the same opinion.
"Morrigan is not entirely unlike your myths, but she is not divine," Tam continued, "Amell fell in love with her, and she with him. Not surprising, they were both saarebas. Amell did not like life in the Circle and Morrigan was disdainful about it at best."
"It seems I have more in common with the Hero than I thought," joked Armen.
"As well as Morrigan," added Ciara, "Careful you don't run off to the Wilds!"
Tam pressed on. "They fought together, slept together and made much of the decisions that saved Ferelden together. The Arishok found her to be not a formidable threat, at least for a mage, until the eve of the final battle. Morrigan and Amell coupled, and the witch got pregnant."
"I'm not sure how that has anything to do with surviving an Archdemon," interrupted Julie. I have to admit that I couldn't see the connection either. Armen on the other hand looked thoughtful, like he might have had an idea about where the story was going.
"At least the technique seems pleasant," he remarked, once he noticed that I was watching him. His smile was back.
"She performed a ritual, during or after their joining," said Tam, "So that when the Archdemon was slain, the soul of the Old God it possessed would take hold of the unborn child. According to the Arishok, it could survive the taint that would have killed an adult, so Amell lived."
"So a sprinkle of blood magic, Amell gets to live and Morrigan gets a child with the soul of an Old God..." said Armen, "I can see why she did it." Power being the implied reason. It's always power with blood magic.. Though I am perhaps being harsh on their motivations.
"She disappeared almost immediately after the battle at Denerim, and Amell disappeared a year later," Tam finished, "Not sure why, the Arishok left Ferelden days after Morrigan left. Perhaps the Warden-Commander wished to find his lover and their son or daughter?"
I shook my head in disgust.
"Using a child like that..." I said, "I couldn't do it. Who knows what in the hell will happen to them, a demon's soul floating about inside them?"
"The soul of an Old God," corrected Armen, "The Old Gods are not necessarily evil, they become Archdemons because the darkspawn dig them up and corrupt them. It is a matter of some debate in Val Royeaux." I wasn't sure that made things any better for the child, but alas...
"I'm sure it is," said Julie, "Meanwhile, the rest of us get to worry about being dragged off by the evil fils des putes in the middle of the night, while the professors sit behind Val Royeaux's walls." Tam nodded her agreement with that, her view on Armen's academic curiosity being as dim as it was back then. I realised that something along those lines must have happened before. The palisade wall certainly wouldn't have stopped a determined enemy, especially one as dangerous as darkspawn.
"Don't worry. We'll smite anything that tries to come for us," I said firmly, "A few months, and we're out of this place forever. The more you tell me about this world, the more I look forward to showing you my world." The whole group smiled at that hope, so openly expressed. So naïve.
It was only hours later that we discovered it to be a false hope.
We had a hearty dinner to compensate for the serious topics we had been discussing. Some of the halla and nug we had cooked for lunch, with potato mash, gravy skimmed off from earlier, butter, bread, ale, even some black pepper, which was a luxury back then. The food doesn't seem strange to me now, but coming from Earth, I found it both filling and rough at the same time. Better than the rations, worse than the fare back home. Regardless, we ate very well and talked about more lighthearted matters, like what we were going to do with the château and who would win in a shooting competition between Tam, Ciara and I.
It must have been midnight when we finally packed it in for the night, and I retired with Julie and Tam to the former's bedchamber. I entertained the idea of fooling around for a little while, but after a... playful exchange, the three of us decided wordlessly that it had been too eventful a day. We were tired. Tomorrow was a new day, we could indulge ourselves then. So, we drifted off into a deep sleep almost as soon as we had gotten comfortable in the bed together.
When I regained consciousness, I awoke to a hellscape.
I was laid down on my back, my usual sleeping position, on damp rock, which was definitely not my usual bedding nor the bedding I had went to sleep on. I opened my eyes, and found an open sky above me. A dark green sky, filled with floating mountains and twisted archways that made me question which way was up for a moment until reason reasserted itself.
Not that reason apparently means much in the Fade, but it does to me, so I didn't fall into the sky.
In the distance was a floating, black settlement of some kind. Brooding towers and walls covered in shadow, menacing the whole place like a beast growling and ready to strike. This was the Black City, though by my standards, it was more of a Black Town. Which didn't diminish its threat. I groaned at the sight, and pinched myself to see if I was dreaming, a more or less common response to such things. I didn't wake up.
"Riiight," I said to myself, "So this isn't a dream."
I stood up and looked around. I was in the middle of a small island, surrounded by a dark pool of black water. Beyond that was rocky terrain, with steps cut into it at sharp angles and unholy lights hovering around, both of which seemed to go on forever. I rubbed my head and pinched the bridge of my nose. A quick check, and I found myself without my weapons or armour. I was still in the clothing I had worn to bed. Which wasn't much. There was only one immediate conclusion that I could come up with; I had been transported to another world. Why Tam and Julie hadn't been taken, I did not know.
"Ah shit, not again," I said aloud, "Whoever is doing this, can you cut this out?"
"Who is doing what?" came the Orlais-tinted reply, sending goosebumps up my skin instantly. I turned to seek the owner of the voice, a female one that had some years on it. I found no one behind my back, only to turn around and find myself confronted with a red mask barely inches from my face. I fell backwards, stumbling to remain on my feet.
"What the hell!" I shouted, reaching for my weapons before remembering they weren't there, "Who are you!"
"Françoise des Arbes, Baronetess of Ancienmaison," she said in Orlesian, doing a curtsy, "And you?"
I looked over the woman, still in a mild state of shock. She wore a long, grey dress with red lining with a huge, ballroom skirt. Long, immaculately tressed brown hair curled out from under her full-face mask. She looked younger than her voice suggested, and by a long way. She waited patiently for my answer, which calmed me down a great deal. I straightened up, and took a step forwards to offer my hand.
"Samuel Hunt," I began, "...the Marquis de la Fayette." I wasn't sure whether or not to lie about my title, but it was becoming a habit to add it on now.
For her part, the 'Baronetess' found it amusing.
"And lord of my former manor, are you not?" she said, "You seemed very interested in it today. The Revered Mother's chanting aside."
I gulped down a lump in my throat as I realised I was talking to a dead woman, Pierre's assassinated cousin no less. Suppressing my panic, which threatened greatly to overwhelm my senses, I placed myself in my military mindset, the sort I used to talk to officers who outranked me and were well aware of the difference. It was the best I could do.
"It was a fine building, ma'am," I replied politely, in Orlesian, "It will serve very well, while I am living temporarily in Hearth."
The ghost seemed confused by that, tilting its head and laughing a little.
"Where shall you go afterwards?" she asked, "And here I thought you would make a good replacement, after so many attempts to usurp my place by those who had me killed."
Another shudder went down my spine at the implications of those words. Aside from the fact that a dead woman wanted me for an heir, I began to seriously doubt that the giant spiders were responsible for most of the deaths in the château. There was also the thought that perhaps Pierre had his cousin killed, or perhaps his wife had, to claim both the land and the chance to frame an enemy. I couldn't put it past him, even if Julie trusted the man.
"I will go home," I said firmly, putting aside my thoughts.
"How?" she asked, "How will you go home?" I found the question strange.
"The same way I came," I replied, "I hope."
The dead noblewoman found that entirely hilarious, doubling over and rumbling a great giggle out of her. I clenched my fists, and my lip curled with anger. I was not in the mood to be mocked, even by the dead.
"You have no idea, do you?" she said, "You are quite famous, around here."
"Famous?" I asked, not liking the sound of that at all.
"Oh yes, many have been expecting your arrival," she said, "They and I watched it, as you fell from grace." Fell from grace sounded downright biblical...
"So... this is the Fade," I said, looking around again. There were more spirits gathering now, looking a lot more like the ghosts of stories from Earth. I wasn't sure I was in danger, with my supposed immunity to this sort of thing, but of course, if I was already there, I couldn't rely on that.
"Indeed, and it is not the first time you have been here," Francoise said, "Though it is the first time you have been here in this way."
"In this way?" I asked.
"I have summoned you here, to talk," she replied, "As I could not speak to you during the day, it was daytime and you were awake." Okay, so there was hope of getting back, I thought. If she could summon me, she could place me back in my bed just as easily. If she was so inclined. So I decided to indulge her wish to speak to me.
"You said I fell from grace," I said, "What do you mean? How did I fall?"
"In that giant metal machine of yours, of course," the dead women giggled, "It was very unusual, not like the others at all. It drew all sorts of attention." She was talking about the helicopter, and I suddenly remembered the clawmarks along the outside of its metal skin. Interesting attention indeed. The mention of others just confused me entirely. Other whats? Earthlings?
"Others?" I asked.
"Many enter the Fade who do not wish to, one way or another," the dead woman said, deadpanning, "More than that, I will not say." Yeah, real helpful there lady. I really wished I had a firelance to empty into her, which was a bit stupid. Contrary to the presumed expectations of you, my dear readers, no weapon materialised at will for me either. A lesson for another day.
"I don't suppose you could show me the way I came?" I asked, looking for better answers.
"Certainly," she said.
Suddenly, the scenery around us changed. The general features were exactly the same, but there were now two of the Baronetess. The original remained in her place, the second was stood among a huge crowd of translucent beings, all looking upwards.
I tracked their gazes to the sky, and saw a giant thunderstorm high up, nearby the dark, floating city. Wreathed in a very familiar green lightning. Out of the cloud, tumbled our helicopter, blades whirring and engines roaring. It was a memory, I realised, one of Francoise's own that she was sharing with me. As the helicopter got closer, I picked out other shapes attached to it.
Lithe, spiked creatures, green caricatures of tall men with long, blade like fingers. They were tearing at the aircraft viciously. Most were concentrated at the front, getting into the glass of the cockpit with some ease. I shouted out, as I realised I was watching how the crew had died. Torn apart by monsters. It had no effect. The helicopter continued falling, or half-flying, until it was eaten up by another bright flash of green, leaving the monsters behind in the air. The storm dispersed in seconds afterwards, as if it had never existed, and the crowd went with it.
The memory disappeared, leaving only us and the small gaggle of spirits left. I looked up at the sky again and felt sick.
"Does that satisfy you, Marquis?" the Baronetess asked.
"Yes," I said, trying to keep my stomach together, "Thank you."
"You are most welcome," she said, with another curtsy, "Do you see now that you cannot return home?" Which was the reason that nausea had hit me, aside from the experience of being sucked into another's memories. The place in the sky where we fell from was undisturbed, and at no small altitude. I would need to go back, get Julie and Tam, re-enter the Fade with all its dangers and demons, find a way to get that high up and then re-open whatever hellgate I had passed through with Fraser's men and the helicopter crew.
It didn't seem possible.
"I'm afraid our time is up," said Francoise suddenly, "I am glad I had this opportunity. We may never speak again, but know that you shall be safe in my home."
I opened my mouth to speak, but the Fade disappeared from my sight, replaced with the darkness of Julie's bedroom.
I was sitting up in the bed, but my vision of it was clouded, as if I was underwater or there was a heat haze. As soon as I noticed it however, the visual effect dispersed with a wooden bang, and Armen appeared in front of me by the doorway. The noise had been his staff, and it was obvious that he had been casting a spell of some kind.
I jumped out of bed and checked myself. Everything was still there, and a pinch confirmed that I was still awake. Julie and Tam were out of the bed to either side, backs to the wall and hands grasping at the masonry, but slowing relaxing from their stance.
"What happened?" I asked, trying to figure things out.
Armen sighed with relief and shuffled into the room, a very sleepy Ciara with him. It was still the middle of the night, which I wouldn't quite understand for a few minutes yet.
"There was a spirit, so I rushed up here and dispelled it," he said, "I woke to … relieve myself and sensed something magical was here."
"I know that," I replied, "I was talking to it in the Fade."
"You what!" said Julie, coming over, "How?!"
"No idea," I said, "It called itself Francoise des Arbes, it claimed to be the murdered owner of our new … castle. It also showed me things." Recognition fell over Julie's face, but she didn't have time to reply.
Tam rushed up to me, and hurried me to the bed. I lay down as instructed, and she began a physical inspection, looking for marks or any other sign of possession. Even I knew what she was at, so I let her do it. It was gentler than the one she had given me at the crash-site. When she was done, she hung her head for a moment.
"Thank you..." she said to no one in particular, "I was worried." She lied down beside me and put her hands on her face for a moment, before sitting up again.
"If he's resistant to magic, I doubt he can be possessed even if his mind can go to the Fade," said Armen with a yawn, to reassure the Qunari, "But this is still a weakness that can be exploited." Julie and Tam still looked concerned. Even Ciara's eyes widened enough to show she was listening. I really, really did not want to add to the weight on their mind, but every fibre of my being was screaming out to tell them.
So I did.
"We have a bigger problem than whether or not a spirit can get inside my head," I said.
"What's that?" asked Julie, eyes wide. I hesitated for a moment, but she sat down on the bed to hear. I couldn't deny her.
"I saw exactly how I came to Thedas, where I came through the Fade," I explained, "There's no way we can get to Earth that way. No way anyone else can get through and back again, flying machines or otherwise. We're stuck here."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, the second to last chapter of the Laws and Customs Volume. I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will be called Prelude to War, and the next volume will be called Rebellion. As you can probably tell, the next volume will be more spread out in terms of time, moving us ever closer to that Inquisition timeline.
Good number of revelations in this chapter, though Sam still doesn't have the whole picture, either about the state of affairs in his new home or why he's in Thedas.
I'm playing with the cover photo at the moment, trying to work out what would be a better noble sigil for"the Lord and Ladies Hunt" so to speak. It'll come up in the story next chapter, so I'd like your opinion both on the one on the cover photo, and the one on my own profile/on the Outlander TV Tropes page. If you're arsed. G'won though.
Drgyen: The relationship between Julie and the Baron remains largely lacking clarity for the moment, other than that they were intimate at one time. Sam isn't particularly interested in the details, because he doesn't value the knowledge, and Julie doesn't really want to tell, because she doesn't really want to get into it when she's got Tam and Sam. It'll come out in bits.
Whereas there'll be more direct conversations on the subject of Sam's origins.
Various pieces of Earth culture will be inevitably and sometimes inadvertently dropped by Sam over the years. Scooby Doo will be one of them... Three guesses why it's popular in Ferelden though.
Ripper1337: More prophesy? Well, you're going to have to wait for confirmation or rejection of that particular hypothesis.
5 Coloured Walker: Bear in mind that nobles can enlist the services of mages or even take them as lovers into their own homes. Vivienne being the prime example. If a noble says the mage is in their service, a Chantry mother is likely to believe it, especially in Orlais. But yes, there is no Circle Tower in Hearth and there is no other reason for the Chantry to have extra security there, so there are no Templars.
Of course, that doesn't mean Mother Héloise is just going to sit pretty and accept it. Or that she entirely believes the story. Or that she doesn't.
Vixeona: Evidently, you've got a real feel for how I myself see Sam, if that's your opinion on his parenting haha! As for the genetic compatibility issue, the lore on Tamassrans says that they deliberately insure that no mixed-children are born under the Qun, which implies that it is possible. However, practically none exist in canon. Tal-Vashoth keep to themselves as much as the Qunari do, apparently. The reputations of both probably prevent it happening often, for savagery in the former case and religious zealotry in the latter. I would imagine there would be violence against mixed couples in contact regions as well.
As for the basement, sorry, nothing really interesting down there. Deliberately avoided the prime cliché to hit up the second most common one as a joke.
Comavampure: Cheers. Magical refrigeration would only be available to nobles who had mages more or less permanently on staff, runes or otherwise. Far easier, and far cheaper, to keep things stored below ground. If anything, the wealthy nobles would use both good storage and magical means to keep food cold. It's just that no one has lived in the château for years.
Eclipse1234: That will be dealt with in the next chapter.