ACT 2—Approximately Three Years Later
FENRIS
A crisp, fall breeze sweeps through the putrid Kirkwall docks, chilling me down to the bones.
Compared to this time three years ago, the weather is not only cooler in the evenings, but the amount of people loitering about has notably decreased. Perhaps it is due to the Qunari's extended presence, or Aveline's diligence as the new Captain of the guard. Or the cold simply makes the citizens uncomfortable, despite it being typical of the Free Marches.
Whatever the case may be, it doesn't matter. My chances of going undetected in this area have slimmed considerably at this point. I will soon have to switch meeting locations with my mole. It is too risky to travel alone here any longer.
Varric should have a good location in mind. I'll speak with him again later tonight, after our usual round of Diamondback with the others.
With my next task in mind, I round the nearest street corner, leading to the main entrance of the docks. Serena's sitting on the edge of a nearby wall, overlooking the swaying water. She stares out at the crashing waves in the distance, one of her legs dangling off the edge, while the other remains curled up tight against her chest.
Her line of sight appears to be far off, suggesting she's lost in thought, once again. A typical expression she wears these days, when she is not off doing who-knows-what, who-knows-where. Her focus is so intense this time she pays no heed to the sea breeze shifting her long, brown locks wildly across her face, even when it obstructs her view however momentarily. A trait that, although admirable, may be best restrained in our current location, so close to dusk.
"So, this is where you wandered off to," I call out to her upon my approach
Serena jolts. She looks up at me, her teal eyes wide and lips slightly parted.
I sit down beside her while she gawks up at me as if she's seen a ghost. "Isabela was looking for you," I clarify.
The surprise vanishes from her expression. She returns to gazing out at the water, suggesting that she might have been expecting the news. "What's brought you to the docks?" she asks, changing the subject.
"I was looking to see if there are any leads to Darnius's whereabouts." I explain. "Still . . . nothing."
"It's been three years. Maybe he's given up?"
"Perhaps," I nod. Although, it is doubtful. "Whatever the case may be, I stand ready. If he comes for me, I will fight."
"If he does show himself, don't forget about us." She flashes me a brief, heart-fluttering smile. "I'm certain the others and I would love to lend a hand. And if he brings along some more slavers . . . Well, that's just a bonus."
I chuckle and bow my head, struggling to slow my racing pulse down. "I'll keep that in mind," I say.
The two of us peer out at the water together, admiring the way the setting sun falls beneath the waves. The sky transforms into a stunning pink and purple canvas, mixing together until only a sliver of blue remains.
"It's getting late." I stand up and look down at the Dalish. She eyes me quietly, her gaze steady, emanating piqued curiosity. "Are you meeting with Hawke at the Hanged Man tonight? If so, we should move on."
Serena takes in a deep breath. She stares down at the ground, her thin eyebrows scrunching together, as if contemplating whether she wishes to go now or not. When she appears to reach a decision, she nods, and I offer her a hand up. "Ma serannas," she whispers, releasing her delicate fingers from around my own.
She pulls away, and I immediately miss the connection, however brief. A confusing regularity that's followed me over the past two years, when we've been running around, helping Hawke.
We make our way to the entrance of the docks, side by side, and as we near the Qunari Compound, shouts fill the nearby alleyway. It stems from a templar fighting off a young man with a staff. A wall of fire abruptly surrounds the templar's opponent. A result of magic, as the revealed mage waves his hands in bizarre, unpredictable motions.
Everyone in the general vicinity stops moving, ourselves included.
The templar shouts some more. The nearby civilians scatter.
With a loud, cleansing bellow, the templar releases a burst of righteous power. Forcing the mage to crumble, his magic dispelled in an instant.
Serena flinches and falls to her knees as well. I kneel down beside her and scan over her carefully.
She's shaking, her face contorted into an agonizing grimace, as if fighting off an excruciating headache. But she seems uninjured.
"Are you alright?" I ask and reach to grab her shoulder.
She flinches and recoils away from my touch. "I'm fine," she snaps. But the ending of her words almost resembles a hiss. Like a cat trying to scare off a predator.
The mage cries as the templar subdues him, shouting out the importance of mage rights, how it's not fair. Much like another abomination we know.
Serena and I rise to our feet again, and I patiently wait for an explanation.
She gives me a knowing frown and pokes me in the chest. "I just felt a tad dizzy," she says, a hint of tease coating her voice. "I must've been sitting around too long and got startled. I'm fine now, lethallan. Really. There is nothing to worry about."
I eye her warily, weighing her words and actions with care.
She says this, but I am not so certain.
However, my opinion would mean next to nothing to her. So, I merely bite my tongue and nod. Such is best I find when working with women like her.
"Very well," I relent. "But do not overexert yourself."
"I won't," Serena laughs. She then tilts her head in the direction of the Lowtown stairs. "Come. Let's go. The others are waiting for us. Or they will be, if we dawdle much longer."
The mage's pleading cries continue to echo behind us as we ascend the steps up to Lowtown—his shrieks disappearing into the distance along with the docks and the setting sun.
