"Isthalla," the voice prodded me again. I began to lumber out of a perfectly good sleep. I groaned.
"Isthalla," the voice asked again, this time a bit more important. My head was under the pillow.
"Go away, Cullen," I hissed from under my arm. I wanted to sleep. Let the world wait. Sleep first. A silence followed-a hopeful silence I happily allowed to be my answer as I sunk back under the cavern of my pillow and tried to slip back into peaceful dreams before the voice reared its ugly head again.
I was nearly into my blissful coma once more when a hand reached out and roughly shook me. This riled me. I exploded from under my covers in a fit of hissing and groaning, locking my accusatory gaze on whoever-whatever-had dared disturb me. My glare felt short when I found a rather pertinent Wynne glaring right back at me.
"You are certainly one for the temper," she commented while crossing her arms. I blinked up at her like a bear awoken from its sleep-disgruntled, unsure, and lingering on the decision of whether or not it was worth it to be pissed off. I decided it took too much energy.
"Where's Cullen?" were the first words that blurted from my mouth. Immediately I regretted them once my sleep-fogged brain began to send out conscious signals to my mouth. I groaned again-knowing my choice of words had been a mistake-and hoped Wynne wasn't the type for taunting. I looked up to find a secret, bemused grin on her face. Irritating old bat.
"Were you expecting him?" she asked, her voice colored with amusement and surprise. I frowned in a rather unattractive way-that of a troll's frown-and muttered a quiet "no" before stumbling over to my trunk in search of robes. She dropped the tender issue as easily (and accidentally) as it had arose. Thank the Maker it wasn't Jowan standing there. I would have never heard the end of it for weeks.
If you are around that long..
I groaned again-almost a shriek this time-as the blasted, imaginary voice of the woman returned with a vengeance. Couldn't she leave me alone? Though it was more faint than the day prior, I still did not have the patience to deal with it right after waking up. I squinted down into the trunk and fished around until my hands found a garment and yanked it out. Still ignoring Wynne, I tottered over to my bed and began undressing, uncaring if Wynne was still standing in my room. That was her issue, not mine.
As I turned around while tugging the last of my robes over my head, I found her standing quite unimpressed near my vanity with her arms tightly crossed. A familiar, taut expression filtered over her face, that which told me I don't find your shameless actions very amusing. Thankfully, I didn't find the old bat's airy sense of superiority very flattering either. I huffed and flopped back on my bed before turning and looking at her, impatient and expectant.
"So-" I began, looking around my room for some clue as to why she might be here. Did I leave some of my illegal potions out? Any stolen powders? No, none that I could see. When no evidence could be found of any petty misdemeanor, I flashed wide, bashful eyes up at the senior enchanter and bared an irritated smile at her.
"What do you want?"
I saw irritation twitch on her features, then quickly bury back down as she bit her tongue from whatever snide comment she'd been begging to make. I wanted to laugh. Why bother? It's not like it would hurt my precious little feelings anyway, that much was certain.
"Well aside from your shameless attitude, I was sent to tell you Irving needs to see you in his office," she nodded smartly. She raised a knowing brow and added, "Now would be best." I tried to hold back a snort as she walked away, but it slipped. She fell short in her step and slowly turned to look at me.
"Also-" she had a sly smile on her face as she turned back around and took a step forward. " You would do well to put on better manners if you wish to impress that templar friend of yours." A secretive grin slipped onto her lips as she turned and trotted away without another word, leaving me with an absolutely stunned smile of surprise on mine.
That sly witch.
Shockingly, I did not have an escort to Irving's office as I had expected. Yesterday's events were more than enough to send me on edge, but the sudden absence of plated guards somewhat alarmed me, even disturbed me in a sense. Clearly something had changed-and whether that something was good or bad would probably be revealed in my visit to Irving's office.
I felt a knot tighten in my chest as I ascended to the Tower level where his office resided. I strode quickly and quietly past guards, wondering if they knew my face or knew if I was supposed to be out of my room, alone, and unsupervised. They made no move to stop me, not even when I recognized the guard from the other night that had come to relieve Cullen of duty. A slightly sickened sneer on his face, perhaps, but he made no move to stop me. Confusion began to take hold of my mind once more.
As I came to a slow walk outside of Irving's office, I could hear voices inside. The door was ajar, allowing me to come to a stop just out of the line of vision where I could eavesdrop-for the moment. An entirely unfamiliar male voice spoke up from inside.
"And as you are aware, this is a very serious issue that I cannot take lightly, Irving," the man said.
"Yes, yes I understand. There are many others quite capable of the task, though, Duncan I must beg your consideration-"
"I will not change my mind."
"An asset of your person I will not quickly forget," Irving chuckled. I heard the struggle in his voice. Something was upsetting him. "But you must understand; she is in a very delicate and dangerous state-" Irving fell short when his eyes turned to the doorway and found mine, barely peering around the corner to get a look at the stranger. Blast my damned curiosity.
"Come in, Isthalla! No need to stand outside the doorway like a frightened child," Irving welcomed with a wide, fond smile and a laugh. I recoiled and slowly stepped inside the room, feeling fearful and wary of this stranger. I eyed him cautiously as I approached-he was a tall, proud man with dark skin like the Chasind and eyes equally as dark; wary and calculating. He sized me up as well with a quick, meaningless glance I knew to be important. I frowned.
"Who is this?" I nodded amidst noticing that he was also human. I felt an instant disliking for the man. I wanted him gone.
"Isthalla," Irving laughed, "do not be so cruel. Duncan is a very good friend of mine, and a very honorable man. You owe him some respect-truly, I apologize, Duncan-"
"Not to worry," Duncan said lightly while eyeing me. Even the woman in my head didn't like him. She was hissing and screeching his name like a banshee. My eyes narrowed.
"As I said before she's a bit of a handful when it comes to conversation," Irving jested while stepping to the side to present me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck beginning to rise; Irving was too happy to see me. Something wasn't right, and that something was pinning directly on this tall, arrogant stranger with the over-wary eyes that kept scanning me up and down like livestock he was preparing to buy. I frowned.
"I was told you wanted to see me, First Enchanter," I chose while decisively turning my attention fully on Irving. I could at least afford to ignore the stranger. Continuing to let his unnerving stare dig under my skin accomplished nothing. If anything, it might deter him from whatever he was intending to do with me-that of which I was still very much unaware of.
"Yes, dear girl I did," Irving said. He held out a hand to Duncan, forcing my eyes to, again, turn to the stranger and glare. "This is Duncan, the Grey Warden." Grey Warden. Why didn't that sound familiar?
"Grey Warden?" I echoed in an unimpressed, challenging tone. Duncan seemed to take me up on my offer and stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back.
"Yes, I lead a group of trained soldiers to defend Ferelden during what we would call a Blight," he answered importantly. I furrowed my brow, vaguely recognizing the term "blight" but unable to connect it to his title.
"So what are you doing here?" I asked bluntly. Irving stepped in at this point, waving an apologetic hand and smiling.
"U-Uh no need to worry about that now, Isthalla-" he took me by the arm and lightly guided me a good foot away. "Plenty of time to discuss matters of the Grey Wardens later."
"I'm looking for recruits," Duncan answered plainly. Obviously he did not know the protocol of Irving's meaning for drop this immediately in terms of conversation. I almost liked the man for a moment; he was bold, which was a feature I had to admire in another. A small, flickering smile tinted my lips before disappearing completely.
"Now that we have introduced Duncan-" Irving cut in, turning his demanding gaze on me. "I'd like to introduce you," he said while nodding at Duncan.
"Duncan, this is our newest mage to the Circle-Isthalla," Irving boasted proudly. I felt a swell of appreciation brim in my chest from Irving's compliment. It was possibly the first time the completion of my Harrowing produced a positive comment, and no less than from the First Enchanter himself.
"No doubt fresh from your Harrowing," Duncan commented while taking a step towards me and nodding in respect. "Pleased to meet you, Isthalla, and congratulations." I bowed back, hesitantly, and straightened back up with a curious frown on my face. I wasn't sure what to make of Duncan; he, like Irving, had a sense of neutral power about him that I could not hate. I felt a shred of respect for the man whisper through my mind. For now, my judgment on him would wait, but I still did not like him.
"I asked you to come up here so that I may present you with these-" My attention turned back to Irving just as he stepped forward with a neatly-pressed set of robes in his arms. I blinked stupidly and took the robes in my hands, not sure what to do with them. "Now that you are a mage," he continued while turning back around to shuffle for something behind his desk. "It was time you were allowed the proper-" More shuffling, a small grunt.
"-embellishments that follow with the title of a mage," he finally finished while retrieving a tall, wooden staff from what seemed to be a very difficult wedge behind his chair. He handed the staff over to me, breathless and smiling. I looked down at the gifts, unsure of what to make of them, then turned back to Irving with a frown on my face.
"Thank you" is what I wanted to say. Something to show my appreciation for all he had done for me as my teacher, my mentor, and my leader. In front of this human stranger it made it more than difficult to show such sympathies, but I was able to share a private, knowing smile instead before turning back towards the door.
"Oh, and Isthalla!-" Irving called. I swung back around to face him and perked. Irving stepped forward with Duncan in his wake. "Might I ask one more thing of you before you head back downstairs?" Anything. Sure.
"Show Duncan to the guests quarters, will you?"
Any other day, any other day but this one-I would have refused. A troubled, unhappy look pulled on my face, but I did not argue. Instead, I neatly set the pile of robes on a nearby table-along with the staff-and wordlessly stepped out the door with Duncan right behind me.
The walk was awkward, nonetheless, and I felt the same prickling sensation he was staring at me as I walked ahead, quickly, and strode towards the open door of the guest's quarters. As I stood silent in the doorway, I waited until he ushered himself past and into the room before preparing to leave.
"You share quite a bond with your teacher, don't you?" he spoke up. I halted mid-step and tried to refrain from sighing. He just wouldn't drop it, would he?
"I suppose," I offered guardedly while turning back around to face him. Duncan busied himself with removing his sword belt and laying out his weapons across the top of the bed. I glanced down at the long silver sword and red dagger. Sharp, penetrative shards of metal. I wondered how well he could use them.
"I have been friends with Irving for quite a long time," he began. Oh great, he was going to give me a complete history of their relationship. I didn't feel a very pressing need to stick around for the monologue, but forced by Irving's kindness-blast the man-I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms in irritation. Duncan pretended not to notice.
"Where I have helped him on many an occasion, he has also assisted me greatly in the past," he continued while pulling off another weapon belt containing some health poultices, throwing knives, and a pouch containing whatever he deemed fit. I shrugged.
"Irving is a good man." This was something I could say honestly, though not lightly. Compliments were not in my nature, and even as the words left my lips they felt strange to be told to a man I barely knew. I frowned distinctly and decided I didn't like talking about Irving in front of Duncan.
"What are you doing here, truly?" I begged to ask the question. My curiosity was now beginning to take a gnawing hold of me the longer I stood in that doorway eyeing the mysterious man dressed in the strange armor. Duncan turned then, his attention drawn, and looked me straight in the eyes without a flicker of an expression.
"As I said-I seek recruits," he said again. I fleetingly admired the power to his voice. Not many humans I knew had such proud gazes, yet he looked directly at you. There was no fear, at least not in his eyes. Perhaps Irving's faith was not ill-placed after all. I smirked.
"I thought you said you only go to war when there is a Blight," I remarked back.
"I do-Well, as in-we as Grey Wardens are-" he cut in without a single pause. My smirk was quickly wiped off my face as I straightened up and unfolded my arms.
"What? You mean to say-"
"That there is a Blight? Yes, that is exactly what I am saying." he finished my sentence.
"You're joking," I laughed. This human could not be serious. He was off his bloody pedestal, wasn't he? The expression he met me with was anything but joking, and quickly erased the smile off my own face.
"I'm afraid I am very serious," he replied while turning to face me again. I took a small, hesitant step into the room.
"What.. is a blight?" I forced the words out of my mouth, though they stung as I spoke them. I hated showing weakness to a stranger-especially a human-but my curiosity had the best of me. Something told me though that Duncan would not hold my lack of knowledge against me.
"Have you ever heard of darkspawn?" The remarkable question rang in my ears like a well-remembered nightmare.
"Yes," I replied.
"I have."