WARNINGS: Violence, gore, mild body horror, horror and allusion to child abuse
MEIRA
"Have I told you how much I detest reanimated corpses?" Dorian whined yet again.
"Yes, Vint. Numerous times," Barris grumbled as he cut down the growling corpse.
"And here I thought I'd escaped the worser fate," Dorian griped. "Battle a dragon in the middle of a suffocating, insect infested forest or investigate a lovely chateau that's possibly demon infested? I thought the choice obvious."
"At least you're inside, Pavus," Solana pointed out. "You could be facing the corpses in the forest."
"Great, now I'll have that to dream about. Thank you very much."
"Can we focus, please?" I urged. "And keep it down."
"They're here. Watching, waiting, wanting. Be careful," Cole warned.
I'd wanted Cole with us in case there were spirits or demons involved as he could sense them better than I and speak to them without entering the Fade. We'd come upon the mansion, utter stillness and silence surrounded it in the otherwise active forest. Gooseflesh had erupted across my skin as I'd looked upon the massive dwelling.
Beautiful, but darkness seemed to emanate from it as if the Void itself had touched the place. As soon as we had entered the mansion proper, I had sensed the demon; the sensation clawing along my skin. Not as painful as Envy had been at Therinfal, but still a constant discomfort. The others had felt it as well—a sense of dread.
Silence had met us within the walls, along with darkness, the stench of death and eerie sounds upon the stale air. One step in and a few candles had lit themselves, illuminating a large portrait of a young girl. The further we'd progressed, the more lights illuminated, revealing the state of the mansion, as if life had simply stopped one day within.
Barris and the other templars readied themselves as blood chilling moans began to echo about the place, flesh covered skeletons shambling out of the darkness. Demons I had been prepared for, but reanimated dead I had not. The possessed corpses were the stuff of nightmares.
Rotted skin falling off of them, their skeletons revealed underneath. Empty eye sockets following our every movement, haunting sounds as if they were trying to speak and an unnerving sense that the consciousness of whomever the body originally belonged to was trapped within. Fear clawed at me as I fought them off, nausea rolling in my gut with every one of them I cut down. The more we disturbed the mansion, the more of the dead we ended, the more came.
"Cole, do you sense anything?" I whispered.
"Something is wrong," he murmured. "Pain or fear or sadness." His watery eyes met mine. "She is sorry, but can't remember why."
"'She'?" I questioned.
"She wants our help, but...I hid the key. Hid the key so she couldn't make me use it again. Not again. Not ever again." A piercing screech echoed through the house, causing my head to pulse with pain. Demon. I was glad I'd ordered Ghilani to stay at the camp in case she were affected by this demon as she had been in the Hinterlands. The revenant had been powerful, but this…this felt different. "It knows we're here."
"So we have to find a key?" Dorian questioned. "To what?"
"Barris, any thoughts?" I asked.
Barris looked around the room we were currently in, thinking. "It's obvious there's a demon—or demons—involved. It would help to know what kind. It's powerful, whatever it is, to call other demons to possess the dead. Perhaps we can find clues? Should we split up?"
I shook my head. "We stick together. The sheer amount of undead could overwhelm smaller parties."
Barris nodded. "Understood. Where would they keep records? Journals? Perhaps the events that led to this were recorded? It could help us."
Dorian tapped his chin. "My suggestions would be the library, the study and the living quarters—of both the servants and the family."
"Where first?" Solana questioned.
"The library first," I decided.
"Lead the way," Dorian flourished a hand.
I chuckled. "I am not exactly familiar with large châteaus, Dorian."
He gave me a wink. "And whatever would give you the idea that I am?"
"I've no idea, but would you be so kind?"
"Thought you'd never ask," he smiled roguishly. "You poor common folk would be lost without me."
"True," Solana sighed, "but we wouldn't miss your whining."
"Someone has to keep this little party lively," Dorian huffed.
"I think the undead are doing a pretty good job, Pavus," Henry Trevelyan chided.
"By covering you in demon blood and sweat? Well, if that's your idea of a party...templars...I will never understand." Dorian muttered.
Henry chuckled and Barris cracked a half-smile as I ordered the others to stay close, but to keep an eye out for anything that could be of importance before we began to move forward once more. We entered into a large room where some daylight was filtering in through open windows. Beneath the windows were mutilated bodies and blood everywhere. They were relatively fresh and upon closer examination they looked like some Freemen of the Dales.
"I suppose they were in search of supplies or things to barter," Dorian observed. "An abandoned mansion was too appealing."
"And they died for it," I muttered. "I assume the undead did this?"
"Let us hope there are no devouring corpses," Barris growled. "Those devils are particularly nasty. Possessed by hunger demons, they eat their victims." Barris bent to the bodies. "Unfortunately, I would say that was the case. Stay sharp, they will not hesitate to try to eat you whilst you still live."
"Hunger. Greed. Gluttony. Driven mad within flesh, so only flesh satisfies," Cole spoke.
Dorian looked at the boy. "Please, stop doing that."
"Afraid of some corpses, Pavus?" Solana chided. "Aren't you a necromancer?"
Dorian looked slightly offended. "This is a perversion of death. Possessing the dead and prolonging life far beyond what is natural. I respectfully bind pieces of spirits—not whole spirits—to the bodies of those who have passed on to give them a purpose beyond decaying.
"The consciousness, the soul, the spirit—whichever you prefer to call it—of those fallen have already moved on, I simply use what is left to aid us against our enemies. This is corruption. Those that are dead may not even be fully dead in these cases, instead possessed by the demons drawn as they were dying. This is disgusting. Necromancy is a respectful use of what is already left behind."
"Still, corpses," Solana shrugged.
"At least those corpses don't look like these," Dorian argued. "You must admit I have more class than this demon."
"It's still wrong, Vint," Barris murmured. "As I know you use blood magic to do it."
Dorian began ascending the stairs before us. "I manipulate the blood within the dead to bind the spirits within. I do not use my own blood to do it. It is not blood magic in the sense you are insinuating."
"The dead want rest," Cole spoke, clearly agitated.
"True, Cole," Dorian nodded. "But to give those that died before they were ready another chance to defend their cause? Is that not giving them a bit of peace in the afterlife?"
"I suppose that's true," Cole agreed.
"I respect the fallen and honor them by giving them another chance to fight," Dorian explained. "Demons using the dead only degrade them further."
"Alright, we get it," Solana waved him off. "You're still odd for choosing such a practice."
"Have you not noticed that I am quite fond of my pariah status?" Dorian chuckled. He stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs. We came to a stop behind him and watched as lights bloomed into existence in a row before us, bringing a library into the light. "More light. How cheery."
"There are secrets here," Cole whispered.
"Let's have a look around while we are here, but stay alert," I ordered. "Groups of three per shelf. Look for journals or records of any kind. Five of you, stand guard at the stairs."
We split amongst the numerous bookcases that stretched to the ceiling. Most of the books had rot or been eaten by insects of some sort due to the mansion's lack of upkeep so it was hard to discern what they were, but Dorian, Solana and I pulled what we felt could be important, setting them upon a nearby table.
"Lots of words, but only a few important," Cole spoke softly as he appeared near us. "She wants you to hurry." The books suddenly flew around, some falling to the ground while others opened on their own.
"Well, that's not unsettling or anything," Dorian stated, exasperatedly.
I approached the table and looked over the open books. Various records, journals and money ledgers. "Look at this," I waved them over. Dorian and Solana stood on either side of me, reading over my shoulders. "Look at all the money exchanges listed under 'Order'. It was meant to look like some kind of regular shipment, but the amount is too large, isn't it?"
"Looks more like a payoff at that large of a sum," Solana agreed. "But to whom? And why?"
I set it aside, moving to another while Dorian flipped through the pages of the ledger. "It looks like it was happening for a period of years," he explained. "Nearly eleven years to be exact. An odd amount of time. A couple of larger sums at the year eight and year ten marks." He flipped back a few pages. "A few other odd payments."
"Maker," I breathed as I reread one of the loose pages. "Dorian, is this...is this what you were speaking of back in Skyhold? The barbaric rituals performed to try and...stamp out magic in children?" He met my eyes. "Leeches? Drowning?"
He nodded. "Those are two of the most popular, yes, but there are many others."
Solana breathed through her nose. "I do not understand. What drives people to be so afraid of magic they risk killing their own children?"
I placed a hand on her arm. "Because they believe magic a curse and an affront to the Maker."
She ripped the book from my hands and tossed it across the room, burning it as it flew through the air. "But abusing your own children to prevent it isn't?"
"Sol," I murmured.
Her fierce eyes met mine. "What else is there? It's not hard to guess what happened, but I want it confirmed."
"It seems Lord d'Onterre purchased some sort of black market artifact," Dorian explained as he read another. "An artifact that requires an enchantment and attracts power to it. There are no more details. This was a letter stuck in a romance novel."
"A mage child. They were afraid of magic or ashamed of it. They paid someone off, most likely to keep it quiet; 'Order' would make me think a templar. And they ordered some sort of artifact in the hopes of drawing out the magic when everything else failed," I thought aloud. "Would you two agree?"
"Indeed," Dorian nodded. "It seems the most obvious."
"And given what we've faced and sensed," Solana added, "it's what led to the current state of the mansion."
Barris came around the bookcase as he'd been on the other side of us and approached the table, looking over the documents. "Perhaps the artifact is what drew the demon? And if it was a child...this could have been like Redcliffe and the Guerrin boy all over again. But why haven't the corpses escaped?" He leaned back around the bookcase. "Trevelyan, did you sense anything as we were walking in?"
Henry's voice answered, "Almost like a ward. Weak, but there. It didn't deter us from entering. You?"
"That's what I thought as well," Barris agreed. He turned back to us. "Let's return to the main door. I want to check something."
"What are you thinking, Barris?" I probed as we all fell in behind him.
"Perhaps the ward was not meant to keep people out, but to keep something in," he offered. "The mage child. I've heard of such things before, but it would require a talented and educated mage to perform it. Possibly even blood magic if they wanted it to only affect the child."
"There was a large sum made out to a strange name: 'hémokinésie'. My Orlesian is not the best, can you translate Solana?" Dorian questioned.
Solana grimaced. "It's an archaic word for blood magic. It directly translates to 'blood manipulation'."
"Why is it always blood magic?" I sighed. "When will people learn?"
"Most likely, this ward would have only required a drop of the child's blood so that it would have worked only on them," Henry explained.
"That doesn't explain why the corpses have been unable to leave," Barris mused.
"Perhaps the demon that possessed the child believes it cannot leave because the child did, so it hasn't attempted to?" I reasoned.
"I suppose it's possible," Dorian mused. "But it would be a rather unintelligent creature then."
"Or perhaps the child tricked it somehow? A last effort to undo their mistake?" Solana murmured.
"I see Mother and Father, walking aimlessly, eyes blank even when I speak to them. They used to be so warm. Then they became afraid. Now there is nothing." Cole spoke. "Lies. Lies. Lies. They lied. She lied. I lied. What do I do?"
My heart ached at those words and the story that was slowly being pieced together. How many mage children suffered and died because of superstition? Because of hatred? Because of prejudices?
How much death and suffering could be avoided if society was not taught to believe that magic was evil? There was evil magic in the world, just as there was evil people in the world, but that was not all magic. That was not all people. How could we put a stop to this?
"It's not your fault," Cole stated gently.
"I know, Cole," I murmured.
"It hurts more because you understand," he observed.
"Yes, Cole."
"Fear is powerful," he stated. "Always feeding, always whispering. It's so easy to listen to fear. No matter how little or big you are."
"So how do we overcome it? How do we resist?"
His blue eyes met mine. "What is the opposite of fear?"
Agitated moans erupted around us as we reached the front door. Turning, we guarded Barris and Henry as they tested their theory. To our horror, some of the devouring corpses showed themselves. Rushing at us with unnatural speed, snapping and snarling like rabid animals, trying to bite and grab at us.
Fear slithered along my spine. Such mindless, twisted perversion. Undead seeking to devour anything they could.
Flicking my wrist to palm my spectral blade, I swung in a wide arch, splitting the maddened corpses in half. Even then, they crawled their way towards us. The clicking of their teeth as they desperately tried to grasp at anything revolting.
Solana set them aflame, putting an end to the nightmarish sight. "Maker, they are disgusting," she shivered, but not from the cold.
"So, I was correct," Barris spoke. "There is a ward, but it doesn't have any affect on us."
"It was to keep the mageling in," I concluded. "We need to find out why. Let's make our way to the living quarters."
Leaving the door, we made our way back to the lower floor of the library where a gallery had been curated and headed towards the back of the large hall. More lights burst to life as we moved about, even fireplaces lighting themselves.
More undead attacked us at every turn, coming out of the shadows as if they were born of them. I thanked the Maker that it was only the few that were the devouring corpses, but was more than ready to be done with this place. But we owed it to the mage child to put an end to the nightmare.
We found the servants' quarters first, everything left as if the entire staff had simply vanished one day. Giving up hope of finding anything as we scoured the kitchens, the larder, the servants' dining area, we came upon the shared bedchamber. Tucked beneath an undisturbed mattress had been a tattered diary. Opening it, I reasoned it was the cook's journal.
Some entries were uninteresting, but as the years passed and the Lady d'Onterre had a daughter, the household became more event-filled. The daughter had displayed magical abilities at a young age, the Lord and Lady attempting all manner of methods to eradicate it from the child. When that did not work and the girl's powers only grew, the d'Onterres grew desperate.
A templar was contacted, but instead of fulfilling his duty and taking the child to a Circle, the templar exploited the d'Onterre's fears of having their name "sullied" by magic in their blood. The templar instead offered to keep quiet for a regular sum for a time before offering to bring a mage to the family in order to set wards to keep the child inside. The d'Onterres agreed, the mage came and set a ward that caused the child to be terrified of leaving the house. To their dismay, the templar demanded more for his continued silence and keeping the mage quiet.
While deterred from leaving the house, the child's powers only continued to grow. Due to not having any training and the mental toll seclusion and the abuse that had occurred to remove her magic, she began to grow troubled. Strange things began happening around the house. The child grew petulant, causing accidents and injuries to happen from raw magic. The more she grew in her powers, the more the d'Onterres isolated her. Barring her from anyone beyond the servants, the cook her favorite because she would make the child treats.
The child didn't understand, her parents' gifts in order to placate her no longer enough. She began to purposely hurt the others, wanting to be heard, to be seen. The cook grew afraid of the child, but stayed silent about what she was witnessing out of fear the child would further harm her. An entry was made about the Lord d'Onterre speaking about a special gift for the girl that would hopefully make everyone's lives easier, but then the entries stopped. I explained to the others, their faces grim.
"This is why templars and the Circles exist," Barris growled. "To prevent these tragedies. But when you have those in the ranks that put themselves before their duty...disaster falls."
"Perhaps if templars and the Chantry did not preach that magic is an affront to the Maker and mages equally so. If templars did not take people's children for the rest of their lives, such desire to hide mage children would not exist," Solana retorted.
"I do not disagree, Amell, but the fact remains that magic is dangerous. Magic untrained is perilous," Barris argued back, though his voice was calm.
"It is made more so because it is painted and preached as inherently evil," Solana glared.
Henry stepped between them. "Or you could both acknowledge that each side has things to work on. Mages need to realize that their power is dangerous and can be used for evil. Mage children are incapable of learning how to control it on their own. The masses are afraid of what magic can do, therefore, mages should be protected when they need to be.
"Templars are not invulnerable to corruption. We are not immune to evil. And mages do not deserve to be treated like criminals before they have ever done anything wrong. This isn't black and white. There is no easy solution, but constantly bickering about who is right and who is wrong is never going to get anything solved. Compromise is the only way forward."
Solana glared at Henry, but Barris nodded in agreement.
"Well, if you're quite finished, we've a demon to deal with," Dorian sighed. "You know, these circular arguments get quite boring. Surely you can think of some new material?"
I stifled a laugh. "Unfortunately, Dorian, no." It was my turn to earn Solana's glare. I shrugged, "I'm sorry, Sol. It's the truth."
"Why am I stuck with all of you?" Solana grumbled as her brown eyes beseeched the ceiling.
"Well, the way I see it, you chose to be here, Solana," Dorian pointed out. "And despite how much you want us to believe you hate templars, you keep putting yourself in their company. Acting as healer, this mysterious lyrium addict you speak about now and again, and now you're here in the battalion that is a joint company of mages and templars. I find it hard to believe you truly detest the Order when you keep placing yourself in its path."
"For your information, Pavus, I do so in the hopes of changing things," Solana bit.
"Ah, yes, because change is often reached by spewing vitriol at those you wish to influence," Dorian stated sarcastically, clearly enjoying the rise out of Solana he was getting. "Don't misunderstand me, I quite enjoy standing above those inferior to me and reminding them how far below they fall, but I also understand such behavior places me comfortably in my pariah status."
"We all know how highly you think of yourself, Dorian," Solana growled.
"What I'm trying to say, mi cara, is that you either embrace that you are better than what you claim to hate and stop trying to change it or you acknowledge that you are not the sole arbitrator of what is correct," he explained.
"I am from Tevinter. The country where mages rule. Despised by the South and your Templar Order and yet, I have been treated at worst with distrust—less because I am a mage, than because I am an Imperial—and at best with respect for willingly abandoning my homeland to assist in your Inquisition in order to defeat the embodiment of mage and magical oppression in the form of Corypheus.
"One of my earliest allies in this Inquisition after our now Inquisitor, was it's Commander who, according to you, was one of the worst offenders of the Templar Order's anti-mage ideals. At the very least, I implore you to reexamine your purview of the people you have surrounded yourself with."
I had never heard Dorian speak so seriously and noticed how his words silenced everyone.
"Would it please you to know that I am trying, Vint?" Solana hissed. "Change is not so easily achieved."
"Wounds, hurts, betrayals. I want to trust, to hope, but every time I end up hurt. I see her struggling and striving, never wavering from her belief in them. In him. Andraste, how do I hope as she does?" Cole spoke before turning to Solana.
"She spent so long in the darkness, hope was all that was left. You've always escaped the dark, pushing it away. You've always run after the light. After the fire. You burn and burn and burn—burning others and yourself. But fire doesn't have to hurt. It can help too. You just need to learn how." He paused for a moment.
"Your family helps. She helps. They help. The words cut, but you know they ring true...at least a little. You're afraid. But you don't have to be."
"That's enough, Cole," Solana ordered.
"Did I make it worse?"
"No, I just—now isn't the time."
"You don't need to be ashamed of the hurt. Everyone hurts."
"I know, Cole." Solana looked away, her blonde braid slipping off her shoulder.
"Then why does everyone pretend that they don't?" He looked around the mansion.
"So many hurts. Maker, why am I afraid of my own daughter? If you are the Maker of all, doesn't that mean you gave her this magic? Have we done this?
"Mother and Father keep me locked away. I am so lonely. I can't even go outside anymore. Why was I ever born?" Cole grew agitated again.
"Hurt upon hurt. Festering, growing, spreading. Everyone sees, yet no one speaks. Anger, sorrow, loneliness seep into every corner.
"A tiny hand upon the shiny box. Hope that it will be the answer, but it waits on the other side. A small voice speaks the enchantment. They think nothing happens. Night descends and she whispers in lonely ears. 'I will be your friend. Help me understand what it is you need'." Cole stopped below a portrait of a young girl.
"So much hurt could be stopped if people didn't hide their pain."
"But sometimes pain must be hidden, Cole," I said softly. "Sometimes pain must be endured alone."
"Why?"
"Because, it is what makes us grow."
"But the growing isn't always good."
"True," I nodded. "Sometimes hidden pain causes us to do bad things. Sometimes hidden pain helps us to do good things." I looked up at the portrait.
"If none of us ever endured pain, we would never learn things that are vital. Pain helps us avoid mistakes. Pain helps us to relate better to others. Pain helps us to grow strong and endure what may come. Life is not easy or perfect, therefore, it is important to endure pain, at times, so that we may be able to endure life."
"Maker, help me to bend to your will, but give me the strength not to break," he quoted.
"Yes, Cole. Like that."
"But there is pain we should not endure in secret. Some pain needs to be shared. Big fists strike little cheeks, fear and confusion growing with every blow. She says she supposed to protect me, but then she hurts me just like Mother did. Is this protection? Is this love?
"Armor rattles as he walks down the hall. Cold sweat breaks out across my skin, knowing what is coming. Want to tell someone, but threats whispered in the dark keep me silent.
"I saw the fear in his eyes. Saw him enter his room. Knew what was happening and yet I said nothing, fearing I would be next." Cole's eyes met mine.
"It wasn't pain that kept them silent. It was fear."
Rattled by his words, I nodded. "Those pains we shouldn't endure in secret, but often, fear is more powerful than pain."
"And shame more powerful than both," Cole murmured. "Always lurking, always hiding, disguising itself. Feeding and feeding. Growing fat as it hides. Illusions and memories, toying with its prey. Like envy and fear, but more cunning.
"I want to help, but he orders me away. I don't sound like them, but I act like them and it makes the hurt worse. I want to tell him, but can never say it right. Hope is with him, but is that enough?"
Confused, I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but as we spilled into the hall of the family's living quarters more undead attacked. It was pitch dark, no lights having illuminated. I could see, as could Cole, but the others were blinded. "Solana! We need light!"
Solana became a living flame, revealing the numerous undead. "Maker, they're everywhere! Why are there so many dead here?"
"She wanted to be part of a ball just once. To dance to the music, be surrounded by people and wear a pretty dress. She promised the party of a lifetime. She lied," Cole explained.
"Sweet Maker," Barris swore. Barris, Henry and the other templars swords began to hum with energy as the metal shown with white light.
"No!" I ordered. "Save your strength. You'll need it to face the demon."
"There's too many of them, Lieutenant-Commander!" Henry barked. "We need to do something!"
Clenching my jaw, I drew in more of the Fade. Stomping my foot, I encased the entire hall in ice. Every surface, every undead, frozen. Closing my eyes, breathing in and out as Solas had taught me, I shifted into the Fade and felt along the hall. Feeling the others, their unique pieces of the Fade—their spirits or souls as Dorian called them—I pushed further.
The undead made me want to recoil. Not spirit or demon truly, but wisps, remnants enslaved by the hand of something more powerful. Maddened by reality, they writhed beneath the rotting flesh, longing for freedom. Trying to grasp hold of them, that powerful presence clawed at me, pain lancing through my mind. I could hear the ice cracking, the undead threatening to break free.
I pushed back the demon, gaining control of the undead. In a swift thought, I released the wisps. Opening my eyes, the ice shattering, we watched the undead crumple to the ground. Another monstrous shriek echoed throughout the manor.
The others looked to me. "Let's search the rooms."
We entered what appeared to be a guest room first. The fireplace sprang to life. Followed by a small candle on a writing desk near the bed. I picked up the letter that sat upon it.
Hastily written, it was an apology to the lady of the house for a late night, swift departure. The husband had suffered horrific night terrors and wanted to leave the house immediately. I wondered if it had not been the mage girl or the demon. Perhaps they had escaped before the fate of the mansion could befall them.
We moved on, finding nothing in the other rooms until we came upon a child's room. Crossing the threshold, the entire room illuminated and the curtains drew themselves back. My skin tingled as the Veil was especially thin within the room. The girl had been young by the toys that dotted the space and had obviously suffered from the evidence of anger upon the walls and furniture. Nail scratches on the door, broken furniture and toys, drawings of horrors.
Then I saw it, a chain latched to the foot of the bed. My blood went cold as I felt the weight of the shackles around my wrists. They had chained her in this room to keep her from escaping. Perhaps it had been a last desperate attempt as her powers had grown as the cook's diary had not indicated such barbarity.
A small book flew across the room, landing at my feet. Stooping to pick it up, I found what was obviously a child's diary. Messy scrawl, misspelled words, but not so unintelligible as to be unable to understand it. Cole had been right, the child had simply wanted to join one of her parents' many parties. From when the diary had begun to its last entry, her isolation had become more and more restrictive.
At first, she had been free to roam and play upon the grounds. She'd made the animals play and dance with her. Then one day a mage had come, taking some of her blood and she could no longer leave the house. The doors all made her afraid. Yet, her parents could leave and their friends could come, but she was always stuck. Bitterness, envy and confusion grew. Her powers grew and they became afraid of her, locking her within her room more and more. All the while, the d'Onterres kept up appearances.
Until one evening, to make up for the child being barred from another party, her parents presented her with a gift. A shiny box. Soon after, the demon appeared. Befriending the girl, promising to make things fair once more and helping her attend a party. Together, they escaped the girl's room and made their way to the ballroom. The demon or the girl caused all the guests to dance until they "fell down".
Following the "glorious" party, the girl had to feed herself. I could only guess that the demon had caused everyone in the house to die before convincing the girl that it could help her not be alone. The entries stopped after that. I summarized for the others, anger in my voice.
"Love. Pain. Fear. Anger." Cole's voice echoed. "So much for one to carry."
"Let's put an end to this," I ordered. "We need to find this box. My guess it's weakening the Veil. It's what drew the demon and allows it to stay. Possibly what continues to feed it power."
"The ballroom perhaps?" Dorian suggested. "It seems to have been where the event took place."
"We'll check the ballroom and then outside," I agreed. "They were the two places the child wanted to be the most."
"We should head back to the servants' quarters," Dorian advised. "There should be an entrance there as they would need to serve the guests."
We worked our way back down to the servants' quarters, more undead stalking the mansion. I was angry and remorseful as we ended them, knowing they had been innocent people caught up in the d'Onterre's choices. Each one worse than the last, leading to their child nearly going mad and becoming possessed. Parents who feared for their child, but feared for their reputation even more.
Circles should be places of refuge, of study, of prestige. What mages could learn and accomplish in their education looked on with honor. Glancing at the others, what if the battalion could become more? If mages could serve as the templars did so that those who chose a military life could be looked at with as much respect as any templar?
Knight Enchanters had such status. Why not other mages? Why could they not choose to wield their abilities to protect the innocent, the noble, the crown? And those that did not, could be recognized for their contributions to medicine, academia, history, enchantments and the like? And those who wanted nothing more than to learn how to control their magic were encouraged to do so?
I thought of the mage child and the abuse she suffered. Thought of my own childhood. As I had said to Vivienne all those months ago, how could we make the Circle a home to those who did not have one? Who never had?
I certainly did not know how as I'd never known a home. Not truly. Not a home in the way people meant when they spoke of home. A place to belong, to be loved, to find safety and comfort, a place that brought peace to your soul. Looking around at the mansion, a part of me wanted to tear it down brick by brick until there was nothing left.
Entering the ballroom, it was evident that a tragedy had occurred. Old bloodstains everywhere, cracks and dents in the wood beams of the elevated dance floor. Scraps of cloth remained, along with a few skeletons, but I knew in my gut that the majority of the party goers were the undead stalking the mansion. Them, the servants, and any who'd been unfortunate enough to stumble upon the mansion.
"That's an interesting choice in decor," Dorian snorted. "Orlesians."
I looked up to find a dragon hanging from the ceiling above the ballroom floor. The beast was obviously fake, far too small and dull in its coloring to be taxidermal; yet, it was still a statement piece. Looking the beast over, mentally comparing it to Helisma's diagrams of the dragon from the Hinterlands, I noticed that the tail was crooked. "The tail is off."
"Father used to have the servants make the dragon fly. I'd run around until Father would come to my rescue, defeating the beast and saving his princess. Then the magic came and I wasn't his princess anymore," Cole murmured.
"Let's get up there," I directed.
We filed through a door at the back corner, following the staircase up until it opened to the upper floor that overlooked the ballroom. The dragon was impressive, despite its poor imitation. There were even more undead on the upper level and our presence earned their agitation as they turned. Emitting eerie, gurgling growls as they limped towards us, we made quick work of them.
"How did they make the dragon fly, Cole?" Dorian questioned.
The boy was quiet, distracted. I looked around the room, the others doing the same. "We don't have time. Dorian, Solana, help me."
Together, we made our way to the crooked tail. Using magic, we manipulated the tail until it straightened out. Once it was in place, the lit fireplace at the back of the room snuffed out as a small door opened in the hearth.
"Very clever," Dorian approved.
Within the hidden alcove sat a key and a scrap of paper. Upon the paper was the same scrawl that had been in the child's diary. It was shaky and even harder to read, but the words tore at me:
There is no one left to remind me. I can't trust the thoughts in my head. Some of them are hers. But these are mine:
Key to balcony. Do not use.
It won't make you better.
They Lied.
She Lied.
"I see it," Solana stated from a nearby window. "The box. It's in the courtyard."
"Finally outside, but it's not what I'd hoped. There's no birds singing. No sweet flowers. No Mother or Father. There's just her and the fountain. She says she'll help me take a bath in the fountain just like Mother never let me do. She says it will end the loneliness. That a bath will help me feel better," Cole's voice was sad and I knew this would be the last of the story.
"I know what it will mean. What she plans. I just want it to be over. To not be angry or sad anymore. Everyone is gone. I look at the graves as I step into the water, I beg their forgiveness and pray it will be painless."
"We bring this demon out. We kill it. We destroy the box," I said through clenched teeth. "Those are your orders. Templars, protect the mages. Mages, give it all you've got. Whatever this thing is, it will not go quietly."
"Yes, Lieutenant-Commander," the others saluted.
"She will show us the way," Cole said. "Follow the light."
Before he finished speaking, a single candle illuminated. Approaching it, it snuffed out as another lit further on. We followed the light, moving back through the mansion, now eerily silent and empty until we reached the library once more. The fireplace at the back came to life followed by a sconce near a balcony door.
Inserting the key into the lock, the door swung open. A balcony stretched before us, overlooking a courtyard full of dead plant life and a stagnant, murky fountain. Dotted all throughout the courtyard grounds were mounds of dirt. Some disturbed, some still intact. Had the child dug them? Or had the demon allowed some of the staff to live for a time, drawing out it's entertainment?
Tearing my eyes away, I spotted the box. It floated upon the air, a strange hum emanating from it. Palming an ice sword, I rushed the box and swung. The ice shattered, the box unchanged. As I watched it, it seemed to almost breathe. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen and suddenly I was tempted to touch it.
Throwing myself back, I barked at the others. "Don't go near it. We need to figure out how to turn it off. The note said something about an enchantment to make it work. Perhaps there was one to stop it?"
"We never did find the study. A lord of such a manner would be in need of a place to conduct business." Dorian pointed to a door behind us. "My guess would be there."
Rushing up the steps, we crashed through the double doors. The fireplace sprang to life, the disheveled office illuminated. Atop the desk sat varying types of parchment and tomes. Everything was cast off the desk, except a single piece of parchment. Snatching it up, I read over it quickly.
I had to fight back the anger as I read more details of the box and how these fools had ever brought themselves to use it. They believed it would draw the magic out of the child, but all it had done was amplify it. As it was intended to do. It drew power, yes, in order to enable its user to wield more.
In the hands of an untrained, naive mage child it was simply a door for a demon to walk through. There was only one enchantment scrawled on the page. Frustrated, I handed the parchment to Dorian. He and Solana read over the information together.
"I believe I can figure this out," he assured. "Just give me a few moments. Solana, mi cara, I'll need your assistance as they've written it in Orlesian."
The rest of us stood and watched as they spoke in hushed tones. Barris and Henry came to stand next to me, but I kept my eyes on Solana and Dorian.
"What will you tell the Inquisitor to do with this place?" Barris questioned. "She wanted it cleared out in order to make use of it for the Inquisition."
"I will be honest and express my desire for it to be destroyed."
"You believe that the best course of action?" Henry probed.
"This place, these people, that child deserve some peace. At the very least, I would ask her to leave it undisturbed. To stand as a mausoleum."
"The whole situation sickens me," Barris muttered.
"As it should," I growled. "We have to put an end to this ever happening. We have to make a better future."
I felt their eyes on me, but they said nothing further. Soon enough, Dorian and Solana announced they had solved it. We followed them out to the balcony and waited as they spoke the enchantment. At first, nothing happened. Then all around, magical barriers erupted into place, sealing us within the courtyard. The box disappeared as a monstrous wail sounded down below us.
Rushing to the rail, a grotesque sight met my eyes. The undisturbed graves were moving as more corpses erupted from the ground. Beyond them, the water of the fountain began to ripple.
To my utter horror, I watched as the girl crawled out of the fountain. Nausea rolling, her water-logged body contorted and broke as she stood. She'd been beautiful once, but now her dead eyes stared at me through soaked hair as her ghastly skin pulled into a sinister smile. Wanting to look away, but unable to, I watched as her smile split along her jaw until it peeled away to reveal an arcane horror.
The statements about making things fair made sense then. A pride demon in the body of a mage. It would have played on her bitterness, on what she thought she deserved, on what she believed to be unfair.
With powerful magic, it pulled us into the courtyard. I cast a barrier before we hit the ground to keep from injuries. Getting to our feet quickly, I palmed my spectral blade and conjured an ice shield.
"Get ready!" I shouted. "Barris, Trevelyan, focus on weakening the demon. Solana, Dorian, it's weak to fire, hit it with everything you've got. Cole, remaining templars, focus on the corpses. I'll keep it distracted. You've got your orders. Go!"
"Aye, Lieutenant-Commander!"
Fade-stepping, I rushed the demon. Blocking its magical attacks, I swung my blade into its opening. A howl of frustration as I nicked its side. Disappearing, I had to roll out of the way as it threw more magic at me. A second late, I felt a bit of the magic as it sapped my strength. Breathing to draw the Fade around myself, I Fade-stepped again, the tip of my sword carved into its back.
Turning with unnatural speed, it swiped with elongated claws. I let out a yelp as those claws dug into the flesh of my sword arm, but I only tightened my grip. Warmth flooded down my skin, but I didn't take my eyes off the demon as I froze the injury to keep it protected. Despite its lipless face, I could've sworn it smiled mockingly. Dorian and Solana came to my sides.
Dorian cast glyphs upon the demon, causing fires to explode along it. The clicking teeth of devouring corpses sounded behind me, no doubt drawn by the blood. With a laugh, Solana summoned a wall of flames into existence, burning the initial corpses away. Dorian's glyphs seemed to have little affect beyond annoying the demon.
"Solana, you have to focus on the demon! Dorian needs more firepower!" I ordered.
"If I drop the wall, the other corpses will come after you!"
"Do it!"
Solana let out a growl, but aided Dorian in bolstering his glyphs. With a thought, a wall of ice erupted from the ground. Barris and Henry would be able to focus past it, but the effect of their attacks would be less. I heard the pounding of the corpses on the ice and knew I had limited time to put an end to this.
"Solana! Enchant my sword with fire!" I shouted. "Both of you, keep hitting it with glyphs!"
Snapping her fingers, my spectral blade erupted with flames. The demon distracted by Solana and Dorian, the sound of ice cracking as the devouring corpses snapped and snarled, I ran towards the ice. Jumping at the last second, I used it to launch myself towards the demon. Causing the ice to shatter, lacerating the corpses in the process, I Fade stepped midair off a piece of ice to materialize behind the demon as it levitated off the ground.
Small explosions erupted around it, it shrieking in frustration, I used the moment to plunge my flame-coated blade through its chest. On the tip of the spectral blade pounded it's heart, while the body of the demon erupted into flames. The heart ceased beating. Both of us fell back to the ground, I rolling at the last second.
Coming to my feet, heaving in breaths, I watched as the remaining corpses burst into flame, all evidence of the horror that took place here turning to dust. The box sat within the ashes of the demon's corpse, no longer awake.
Not daring to touch it, I coated it in ice. Holding out a hand for Barris's shield, I raised it before slamming it into the box, bolstering my strength with the Fade. The ice and box shattered apart before disappearing. The Veil thickened and the unease that had followed us throughout the mansion evaporated.
"Only the anger remained," Cole's relieved voice sounded. "We made it stop."
Handing Barris his shield and sheathing my weapons, I took a final look towards the fountain.Looking back to the ashes, I noticed something glinting in the sun. Picking it up out of the ashes, I realized it was a small ring. Small enough to fit a child. Looking around at the mansion, Dorian's words echoed in my mind: I respect the fallen and honor them by giving them another chance. Finding Barris and Henry's eyes, I spoke. "Can you cleanse the mansion? With a purge or something?"
Barris offered a salute. "We'll see it done." Turning to his brethren, he gave orders. "Templars, split up and cleanse this place. Any remaining dark magic or demons, let us be rid of them."
"What are you thinking, Talitha?" Solana questioned, a dark brow quirked.
"This place deserves a time of peace, but perhaps...perhaps it can become a refuge for certain mages. Those that have suffered enough and simply deserve a quiet place to live away from the world." I glanced around as I slipped the ring into the folds of my armor. "It is a beautiful mansion. With grounds that could be even more beautiful. What do you think?"
Solana looked around as well. "I agree. Perhaps a mixture of Tranquil and mages seeking rest or quiet pursuits? It has everything that would be needed. It just needs some repairs, tidying up and groundskeepers."
"Maker knows there will be plenty of people in need of work after all of this," I added.
"It's worth considering. It's a matter to bring up with the Inquisitor and Josephine…And Cullen."
"Cullen?" I questioned.
She pinked a little, not meeting my eyes. "They would need protected. Perhaps he would have ideas."
Fighting a smile, I nodded. "As soon as Barris and the others are finished, let's head back to camp."
...
Night had fallen by the time we reached camp, the others still not back from their fight with the dragon as of yet—though word had arrived of their triumph—we decided to turn in for the night. Surprisingly exhausted, not very hungry and in need of some quiet, I made my way to my tent. We'd moved camp to the mansion the Freemen had occupied after Taven and the Dalish had departed, staying within the outer courtyard until the mansion was deemed safe and any minor repairs made by Rylen and his men. Fairbanks and his people would occupy it upon its renovation and our departure.
To my relief, I'd entered my tent to find a thick letter from Cullen upon the cot. Lighting the nearby lantern, placing the d'Onterre's ring on the small barrel next to the cot, stripping off my armor and setting it out to be cleaned, followed by a quick sponging myself off, I donned my nightclothes before working my way under the covers. Rylen had informed me that Ghilani was off hunting, so I focused on Cullen's letter. His writing was surprisingly neat, but I could see where his hand had shaken every so often.
Talitha,
It will comfort you to know that all of your letters reached me, despite the storm, but it is to blame for my responses being delayed. At the risk of my own hand suffering, I will respond to each of your letters within this one.
I think we both know already that you're rather strange, love, in the best sense. It's part of what I love so much about you. Jesting aside, I too, miss you. I could use your wisdom, your perspective and your laughter.
As I am sure it is the same for you, things have only gotten more difficult, but at least it keeps me focused— mostly. I must admit to my mind wandering now and again. Have I told you how distracting you are, yet? Even far from me, I find you a constant distraction.
I pray our time apart will be short as there is much I miss about you as well. Given that our Spymaster indeed reads all of our communications, I will leave you to imagine what I miss—and how I long to comfort you. I am sure Sister Nightingale will find some way to embarrass me, but given what you shared with me, I daresay it will be worth it. I'll save my more embarrassing divulgences for when I can whisper them in your ear.
My toes curling and cheeks heating at the last line, it took me a moment to continue reading.
I am glad that you are getting the chance to see more of the world, a part of me jealous both of you and those with you. I thoroughly enjoyed your drawings as they gave me a peek as to what you are seeing. The forest indeed looks beautiful and full of mystery. It is a shame that you must be there under such circumstances, instead of for pleasurable travel.
I had little doubt in Amell or Trevelyan and their ability to lead, but I am glad my assurance was not misplaced. I hope that camaraderie only strengthens as time moves forward.
As to the Red Templars, I am sorry that it did not go according to plan. I thank the Maker for His protection over you and that you were at least able to gather pertinent information. I do remember Carroll. He was...troubled at Kinloch. Sadly, it seems to be the sort that Samson draws.
It is hard to believe Carroll has proven so elusive a target, however, as what I remember of him, he was placed on guard duty on the docks of Lake Calenhad to keep him out of the Knight-Commander's way—and away from the lyrium stores. Perhaps red lyrium and regular access to it has brought clarity to his mind? But how could that be as all evidence would lead to the contrary of red lyrium having any sort of restorative effect?
Kidnapping people? Capturing giants? What are they up to? I will speak with Sister Nightingale about sending scouts to Emprise du Lion. I do not wish to alert Samson of any knowledge we have that could put us at a sorely needed advantage, so I feel it best to leave any reconnaissance in her expert hands. I want information before we would go in blindly.
Reaching Emprise du Lion is no small task, thus a wise choice for a base of operations. Red Templars would not be daunted by the perilous trek up the mountains as our soldiers would. Have I underestimated Samson? Or has his master been guiding him? Do not fear, my darling, however determined they may be—however willing—if the Maker is with us, if He is against them, they will fail.
Do not feel guilt about the Freemen, Talitha. While I sympathize with their want to be free of a pointless war, they turned to a dark force for aid out of desperation. And swiftly paid the price. They could have surrendered, but they chose to fight. Better to fight and die as deserters than to hang for treachery, I suppose. I do not mean to speak harshly, and I admire your tender heart, but they made their choice. You ended them to protect the innocent. You've no reason to feel guilt.
Barris and Trevelyan are good men and perhaps it is something I should discuss with them. For now, however, I believe—as I'm sure they would as well—that they can better serve as they are. Let the Order restore a modicum of honor by serving the Inquisition with their full capabilities.
I do find a bit of peace in knowing the others see what I saw prior to walking away. Hopefully, it will steer them towards true change that will benefit not only the templars, but also the mages and Thedas as a whole. We need an Order that can be trusted and is worthy of that trust. That said, for you, I will try to lean more on them.
My visit to South Reach was...interesting. I was surprised by the comfort I felt in being with my family again. Mia and Bran were much the same as ever, but...Rosalie. I hurt her, Talitha. In leaving them for the templars, she felt betrayed and unimportant. Believes I chose the Order over my family and continue to do so with the Inquisition. Much of her anger is justified, I fear.
Pray that Andraste grants me wisdom, my darling, as I am unsure how to repair this hurt. If for no other reason, it was all worth it to see my nephew, tiny thing that he is. I pray you are able to meet him one day. I did see them well protected before I left, as I am currently back in my office as I write you this.
As far as my training...still no progress on that front. I continue to try, however, but I do not think there is much hope of success. We can discuss that more upon your return.
As for the templar initiates, their ceremony will most likely occur within the next few days. They postponed it until my return from South Reach as they have requested my presence. I will oblige them as the reason for their request was...endearing. I will write you with an update as to how they are faring upon its completion. Be praying for them, Talitha. The process is difficult.
The mages are well, though they would not tell me otherwise. Per Bethany's updates, they are faring well and Fiona has them well looked after. We did have two new additions join us, former occupants of the Kirkwall Circle. A man named Alain and a woman named Ella. They were apprehensive, but Rosalie of all people convinced them to come with us. I do not know if they will stay, but they are friends of Bethany and she was delighted to see them.
What came of your mystery? The ruin? Did the Inquisitor succeed in ending the dragon threat? I look forward to reading your reports.
I am well, my darling. You need not worry about me. Stay focused on your tasks that you may return that much sooner.
I did "stumble" across your end of the bargain and a simple thank you is not enough. I will have to show you my gratitude in person.
There is no phrase in Common that can match the depth of the sentiment you shared with me. How do I even express what you mean to me? I am a fool when it comes to words, but I pray you know that it has always been the same for me. You have me, body and soul. You have from the moment I met you.
I love you.
Yours always,
Cullen
Warmth filled my chest at his words. Fool or no, the very fact that he was willing to write those words out, knowing at the very least Leliana would read them, told me how much he cared and wanted me to know. It also only added to my unease that something was wrong.
He was vague and evaded telling me how he was feeling. I knew part of it had to do with his predicament still being a secret to only he, Ellana, Cassandra, Solana and I, but I could not shake the feeling that he was not telling me the truth. Maker, watch over him. Looking back to the letter, I blinked to find that Leliana had scrawled a note at the bottom.
You two are absolutely adorable. It's sickening. Fret not, Talitha, he's like a lovesick puppy without you here. Far more irritable than usual.
For all our sakes, return as quickly as you can. I fear threats may come against his life if he keeps this up. Mainly from me.
N.
I think it's beautiful. The Commander is a very private man. I would never have guessed the depths of his emotions for you—nor his elegance in writing. Ignore Sister Nightingale. I will not let her harm the Commander, though I too urge you to return as soon as possible. His surly manner has offended more than one of our noble guests. Hope you are well.
J.
That's Josie's kind way of saying she may kill him before I do.
N.
I laughed, knowing they were mostly poking fun, but worried there was some seriousness to it. I could only imagine Cullen being more surly than usual. I hoped it had only to do with us being apart and nothing else.
I knew he would not tell anyone or complain if his struggle had grown worse—not even me. He would want me to be focused and he would not wish to burden anyone else. Feeling it was his duty to endure in silence.
A thought occurred that perhaps he felt he owed it to the mages he'd failed to endure in silence. As they had. To persevere as they had. I set about writing him back, determined that I would request he speak with someone if he were struggling. That done, I turned in for the night, missing him even more and resisting the urge to visit him in the Fade again.
...
Our tasks finally seen to, all that Fairbanks had requested of us finished, the man led us through the vast forest. Ellana rode her horse next to him towards the front. The two were speaking about everything that had unfolded the past few weeks and what we could expect once beyond the trees.
I was among the others, thankful that Cullen had a natural gift when it came to horses as Mouse led me smoothly over the rough terrain. Ghilani trotted next to the mare, the two seeming to be fond of each other. My mind drifting to Cullen, it took a moment to realize that Solas was speaking to me. I turned to the elf male finding his dark brow quirked.
"Pardon me, I was lost in thought," I admitted. "What did you ask?"
His lips twitched. "The Inquisitor told me of your recounting what occurred at the abandoned château. It seems you were able to wrestle control from the demon to put an end to the possessed corpses?"
"I was," I nodded. "It wasn't easy, but I was able to succeed. It was more repelling than vying for control, but still..."
"I am impressed by your quick learning," he complimented. "I thought your plans for how to use the mansion a good one, as does she. She also told me that you seemed rather upset about what the child had endured prior to her possession."
"It was abhorrent. Abuse and blood magic. Why must the two always go hand in hand?" I demanded. "Why is it always blood magic?"
"All the controversy and the censure upon blood magic is nothing more than superstition. Most modern cultures forbid blood magic; publicly, even Tevinter disapproves of it. But magic is magic. It matters only in how it is used."
"So you would wield it?" I asked, anger rising.
"Unfortunately, using blood magic seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade—it is why your Keeper was unable to enter the Fade on her own. You understand why I never bothered to learn it. A shame, as it is extremely powerful. Provided it remains a tool, not a crutch...nor a passion." He glanced at my face, no doubt seeing the anger there before he sighed.
"The problem is, under the Chantry, blood magic is forbidden so only criminals practice it. While in Tevinter, magisters compete with each other instead of keeping their volatile friends in check. They always succeed through power so they have never had the chance to learn another way."
"Every time I've seen blood magic used it's been for some evil purpose," I argued. "I watched my friend be corrupted by it as he practiced it in secret."
"I once saw a woman stabbed in the stomach with a dagger," he goaded. "She died slowly, in agony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop people from using them? Of course not. Some would use daggers in secret, ashamed, and some would find rebellion titillating—step down the path of depravity."
"It doesn't matter how they arrived there," I growled. "Most blood mages use their power for the wrong reasons."
"Yes, but not all. I once saw a blood mage healer who shed her own blood to close a patient's wounds. Although, admittedly, you are unlikely to find her here."
"So we should allow blood magic to be used freely?" I chided. "It worked so well for the Imperium."
It was his turn to be angry. "Tevinter's foundation stones are the bones of ancient elves with slave blood for the mortar. It is nothing more than an example of gilded savagery."
Taking a moment to collect myself before I responded, my voice was calmer. "I understand what you are saying, Solas, but it is a topic in which we will not agree. Perhaps there is truth in its being forbidden naturally leading the devious to use it, thus it will always be used with evil intent.
"That said, you must admit that because of its power, it changes those who use it. The allure of power is strong. Power corrupts as evidenced by Tevinter, by Corypheus. There may be those strong willed enough to resist, such as your healer, but that is the exception, not the rule."
He looked at me. "I do appreciate your willingness to consider what I am saying. You do not have to agree, but I respect that your reasons for doing so go beyond simple religious conviction."
I fought back a snort. "While my beliefs define who I am, it did take logical thought to come to believe what I do—though some may disagree that it was entirely logical." That earned a chuckle from him.
"That did not end when I became an Andrastian. My beliefs do not inherently render me unintelligent or incapable of free thought. And again, as with many things in my life, I have seen and been the victim of religious zealotry. I have seen and been the receiver of true faith in action.
"There is a balance in everything—or there should be. One can be devoted to their beliefs wholeheartedly, allowing them to shape their worldview and convictions, while still being able to think critically about societal issues."
"I can appreciate if you are wholly sold to your convictions. Without them, what are we but creatures of aimless wanderings?"
"I am wholly sold to my convictions, but I know that not everyone shares them. Therefore, I cannot expect everyone to live as if they do."
"If only more people had such ability to think critically."
"It is a difficult burden to bear," I sighed, dramatically.
"Indeed," he nodded as he laughed.
"Oy, don't think you want to be like Egg-Head there, Princess," Sera's voice called. "Arrogance isn't a good look on ya."
"You believe me arrogant?" Solas questioned.
"Aye, you're the most arrogant prat I've ever had to deal with," Sera snorted. "Head so far up your own bum it's a friggin' wonder you can get around."
"There is nothing arrogant in using your mind to think," Solas argued. "You prefer to act first and think later."
"So?" Sera scoffed. "Makes life exciting."
"Have you ever had any interest in learning magic, Sera? While it has not manifested naturally, there are ways to determine whether arcane gifts lie dormant within you. That would make life exciting, do you not agree?"
"What?" Sera answered bewildered. "Don't make me think about that. I have to sleep at night!"
"Sleeping would give you the chance to explore the Fade. I could introduce you to spirits."
"Right, you're messing with me on purpose!"
"Why would I do that? It is not as though I know who filled my bedroll with lizards."
"Heh. Fair point! That was pretty good."
Solana started laughing on my other side. I gave her a quizzical look. She smiled wickedly, "I may have helped her collect said lizards."
I looked at her incredulously. Of all the people to play pranks on, Solas and Vivienne were the two I would never attempt it upon. I had a feeling that while Solas enjoyed a good joke or prank, his form of payback would be cruel, whereas Vivienne's would be downright terrifying. Both would draw it out, wanting to strike as much fear and paranoia as possible within their victims before actually striking.
The remainder of the trek through the forest passed without incident. As much as I had enjoyed the forest, I took a deep breath when we reached the open air. But any relief was cut short as we were met with the war-torn scene before us.
Silence fell as a sense of mourning shrouded us all. The Veil was thin, tingling upon my skin. Beyond it, I sensed a multitude of spirits drawn by the years of war, bloodshed and sad history that had shaped the Exalted Plains. But there was something more, a darkness that had descended. Gooseflesh erupted along my skin as eerie silence met my ears.
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