Daughter of Wind and Flame

By Pyreite

Chapter 3: To Keep a Promise

It'd been hours since Ellana had left the city. Its stone avenues, staircases and bridges a testament to the titan's longevity. There was green underground, trees, blades of grass and shrubbery. The gardens long untended had grown wild, but not enough for forests to take root. The trees were thin and spindly, hardly the mighty oaks that'd flourished under the sun.

Mahariel like Ellana had spent his youth in sun-dappled shade.

Yet he hadn't seen the sky in five hundred years. The titan's heart the only source of light in the subterranean network of tunnels, caves and rivers. Hundreds of feet beneath Skyhold, he sank back on his heels inside an ancient hall. Its walls, floor and ceiling bearing the lines and symmetry of dwarven craftsmanship. Even Valta's armour bore the geometric patterns favoured by her ancestors.

Mahariel saw squares, triangles, diamonds and hexagons embossed in brass on steel-plate.

Too severe for an elf with a love of green and growing things. A dwarf born in Orzammar thought twining branches, flowers and stars – frivolous. Valta's sense of propriety had spared him the worst of her brethren's disdain. Yet on some things she was obstinate as a mule. Mahariel knew what was coming when she looked him up and down.

She frowned, disapproving of his attire. "A linen shirt, suede jerkin, plain brown hose and no boots. You've been running around barefoot again. It's not safe. You need to wear your boots while you're down here".

"I hate wearing shoes", grumbled Theron.

"Bare skin won't give you traction", said Valta. "The soles of your boots will, along with protecting the bottoms of your feet. The stone is rough, uneven in places and sometimes jagged if the flagstones are cracked. If you must run circles around the Sha-Brytol, do so in the proper footwear".

Theron Mahariel rolled his eyes. He'd heard the same argument a thousand times before. "Are you going to make me another pair of boots?"

"If I must".

"I already have plenty that I never wear".

"You'll need to if you plan on going after Ellana. The titan opened the way for her to Skyhold. She'll have a direct path to the fortress, bypassing the old darkspawn tunnels. She'll reach the surface in a day or two. Cole went with her".

Mahariel recalled his last meeting with the spirit of compassion. He scowled, shoulders tensing – reminded of why he was angry. "You let her leave. She was safer down here than she was above. The Evanuris were hunting her".

Valta recalled the circumstances of Ellana's retreat underground. The sounds of battle, the rumble of thunder. The defences of Skyhold fortress breached. Surrounded with death a certainty, the titan had intervened. Ellana had refused to flee until Mahariel (at his wife's behest) had dragged her into the bowels of the earth.

Valta regarded him with pity. "Titans have long memories, Theron. Ours offered Ellana sanctuary when Skyhold was besieged. It was grateful that she'd stopped the Qunari from mining the Wellspring. It also wanted to ease her through what was to come".

"You mean her dragon's blood awakening".

"Ellana wasn't born a mage, but she activated Solas' foci with a touch. That encounter roused her dragon's blood, preventing the Anchor from binding to her soul. The titan sensed that conflict worsen when Solas severed her left-hand. His misguided attempt to save her life catalysed the change she'd endure. Dragons don't share mates or territory. So why should a foreign magic take root in her body like a weed?"

"It was killing her!"

Valta raised her left-hand, gauntleted in steel and leather. Her short fingers splayed as if she meant to cast a spell. The gesture was harmless, yet Mahariel gasped – jolting in his seat as if struck by a bolt of lightning. He was pale and shaking, his eyes so round that she saw his sclera. He was dreading her next action till he realised her limitations.

"Fenedhis!" he swore, panting as if he'd run a mile. "Don't do that!"

"I'm a dwarf. I can't channel the Fade or cast spells".

"I know that!"

"Why are you afraid?"

Mahariel grimaced, his skin prickling with unease. He glared at Valta, irked by her frankness. She was as steadfast as the titan she served. A rock in the sea of chaos that'd swirled about Ellana above or below ground. Centuries after they'd fled Skyhold, seeking refuge – Valta was unchanged. Her face unlined by age, her hair dark and her eyes piercing as the point of a spear.

She'd seen him flinch and recoil in fright then heard him snap and snarl like an enraged mabari.

Mahariel hated how vulnerable she made him feel. As if he were an errant child in need of scolding. Yet Valta didn't take offence or reprimand him for being rude. She gazed at him with the patience of a woman used to his awkward silences. Mahariel capitulated with a sigh, twiddling his thumbs.

The anger snuffed out like a candleflame, left him hollow and raw on the inside.

"It was time", called Valta, her voice soft. "Ellana had grown too restless, too wild and difficult to control. That she turned her outrage against the darkspawn saved innumerable dwarven lives. The Deep Roads from here to Kal-Sharok have been safe to walk for two hundred years. We both know how relentless she was in pursuing the last of the Old Gods".

Mahariel swallowed his pride, tasting the truth's bitter sting. "She obliterated them body and soul before they could become Archdemons".

"After she'd incinerated the thousands of darkspawn protecting their tombs. She spent decades thereafter hunting their surviving Architects. If she came upon a Broodmother's nest, she'd burn it out till nothing but ash remained. Yet she hasn't had anything to fight or devour in over a century. The war for her will never end till her dragon's blood cools".

Mahariel was almost afraid to ask. "When?"

"Death".

"Nae!"

"Motherhood then".

He blushed, cheeks ruddy. "She didn't want me".

"Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?"

Mahariel ducked his head, shoulders hunching. He stared at the floor, hoping she wouldn't notice the light flare behind his eyes. He exhaled a shaky breath, feeling the fear ebb away till a sense of calm remained. He lifted his head, irises blazing with silver-blue flames. His voice deepened, the spirit that shared his body revealing itself.

"Shaper Valta".

"Urthemiel".

Mahariel's face still as stone was grave. "You have upset my host. He quivers like a lute with plucked strings. The chords sour, the notes discordant. He laments Ellana's escape, knowing that she will never be safe again. Wherever she goes Fen'Harel and his hounds will follow".

"What does a dragon have to fear from a wolf?"

He inclined his head as Ellana was wont to do. An eyebrow arching as if in challenge. "For all her power and glory, Mythal died upon the steps of her own temple. Betrayed and overwhelmed, her people succumbed to the Evanuris. Those that survived the siege were in Uthenera. The rest died defending the catacombs filled with their slumbering brethren".

"You were there?"

"Not by choice. I was a spectator to the bloodshed and madness, taking no part in it. Yet in the eyes of Fen'Harel I was culpable. He raised the Veil, casting me into the void with the rest of the Evanuris. Mythal alone knew of my innocence".

"She saved you that night in Fereldan".

"By using the ritual of transference", explained Urthemiel. "Sparing my soul from obliteration when Mahariel killed the Archdemon. I became the child he sired upon Flemeth's daughter, until she ushered me onwards. In time Morrigan would offer me her husband in hopes of staving off the corruption in his blood. The taint near drove him mad in the early years of the Veil war".

"I remember", stated Valta. "But what of Ellana?"

"I have taught her what I can. Given her ample foes to vanquish. The lastborn child of Mythal has cleansed the roads that lie beneath the earth. Now she must touch the sky, open her wings and greet the sun again. If fates allows, I will join her soon".

"If not?"

"Fen'Harel will kill me the moment I set foot on the surface".

Valta stilled when the ground rumbled. The veins of lyrium laced throughout the granite walls around her glowing silver-bright. She heard the titan's call, its song like liquid sunlight in her veins. The Sha-Brytol heard it too. The clank of their armour rending the quiet like a clap of thunder. They entered the hall, their stony-grey armour glinting with shards of lyrium.

Their eyes aglow with that eerie blue light.

"We will lead you to Skyhold. After that we must return to the titan".

Mahariel bowed his head in gratitude. "Ma serannas".