As the lingering terror of the dream began to fade, Niall felt his fear transforming into anger. He couldn't have asked for a sharper reminder that for a mage there was no such thing as a good day, not really. The chantry teaches that demons are manifestations of sin. But his only sin had been taking pride in his work – why should he punished for that? Would a woodworker be forced to confront his own destruction for taking pride in a well-crafted table?
He forced himself to take a deep breath,
Divine, Glory, Towers, Black, Exalted, Steel, Storm, Blessed, Dragon.
He felt like screaming at the injustice of it all until every accursed creature in the fade heard him – but he knew the danger uncontrolled rage posed. Especially with a demon lurking so close to the edges of his consciousness. Right now, plunging into a quagmire of self-righteous self-pity could be disastrous.
Judging by the soft glow of morning twilight coming through the windows, it was too early for anyone in the tower to be awake. The tranquil wouldn't even have started on breakfast yet. He couldn't just wonder around waiting to be spotted by a templar. Neither could he stomach trying to go back to sleep.
That left one other place he could go – which was how Niall ended up in the chapel, on his knees before the votive candles. There was no one else around and yet those little white candles were already burning when he arrived. The orange flames still flickered even with no one there keeping vigil. They served no purpose, they had no discernible use – but as he knelt there watching the flames dance Niall could feel his heartrate gradually slowing back down to normal.
Maybe he should pray, Niall thought to himself then promptly scoffed at the notion. He'd never understood the supposed point of prayer. If the Maker had truly left them, like the Chantry preaches, then surely no matter how loud or how often they sang the chant – it would always go unheard. He'd known mages more devout than any revered mothers, who told him they found comfort in prayer. But what comfort was there in muttering alone in the dark?
"Oh, I'm sorry, Enchanter." the voice of a girl jolted him out of his blasphemous reverie.
He leapt to his feet, his nerves still on edge. He didn't recognise the apprentice standing there. She couldn't have been older than sixteen, her face was ashen, and her eyes bright red.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded slightly, not bothering to try to make her obvious lie convincing.
"Are you sure about that? Because the only other person here in the middle of the night is me – and I certainly didn't come because I was feeling my very best." he smiled playfully, his urge to comfort the girl overriding his own state of anxiety.
She flushed slightly but managed a smile in return.
"I didn't mean to disturb your prayers, Enchanter."
"Oh, you didn't disturb anything. I'm not really the praying sort – don't think I'd even know what to say without the Revered Mother conducting me." As he said it, he realised it probably wasn't an appropriate comment to make in front of an apprentice – but she seemed to appreciate the distraction.
"I say the Maker's blessings here every day. Just – not usually this early. I had -," her eyes dropped to the floor, "I had a bad dream."
She didn't need to say anymore than that. Of course, he understood. Every mage understood – but their bad dreams, like the harrowings, like the tranquil, were never discussed openly.
"Every day? Goodness – you must be in the Maker's good graces." he'd kept his tone light but the girl's face still fell.
"If I was, He wouldn't have tainted me with magic." Tears welled in her eyes and it broke his heart a little bit.
"Hey, listen-," he paused and the girl filled in her name,
"Keili."
"Listen Keili, you mustn't think like that. I know, I know magic feels like a curse sometimes but there is nothing wrong with you."
"But there is, there must be." the tears began to fall, "Why else would demons stalk my dreams? Why else would my family go white with terror at the sight of me? Foul, accursed, Maleficar-," Her words devolved into a sob that wracked through her whole body. Instinctively, Niall grabbed her, pulling her into his chest and hugging her tightly.
After a moment, she stopped trembling. He pulled back, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
"Look at me, Keili." He spoke slowly, "You are not tainted, you're not corrupted, and you're not foul. I promise you that, okay, I promise."
She nodded but didn't meet his eye. He didn't know what to say to get through to her, only that he knew he had to. He desperately had to. He tried to put it in language she would understand.
"You believe in the chantry, don't you? In the Maker?"
She nodded again.
"Then think about what it says in Transfigurations - The one who has faith, Unshaken by the darkness of the world, She shall know true peace."
She was staring right at him now, attentive and wide-eyed. He carried on talking, not sure if, after his ordeal in the fade, if he was trying to reassure her or himself.
"Magic existed before the world was tainted. It was the Maker's gift - not his curse. And trust me, I understand, at times it is terrifying – but as long as you don't let that fear shake you, you will be fine."
The ghost of a smile appeared on her face and Niall thought it might be the first time in his life that knowing chant by heart had served any positive purpose.
Embarrassment spread through the silence that fell between them – both aware of the raw vulnerability on display.
"If you like, I can leave you to say the blessings now?"
"Actually, Enchanter, would you say them with me?"
Niall said nothing but silently genuflected before the burning candles. Keili did the same, then lead the two of them in prayer until the sun came up.
-o0o-
By the time Niall made it to the breakfast hall he'd already been awake for hours. He'd left Keili in the chapel for the morning service but he hadn't wanted to stay. He felt drained, the kind of tiredness that made even raising his arms require extra effort.
He'd stopped caring about the Maker, or demons, or magic – all he cared about was black coffee and the booth seat in the quietest corner of the hall. He poured his first cup down his throat as fast as he could manage without scalding himself. The second cup, he nursed in his hands for half an hour, until Petra peered over the side of the booth.
"By the void, Niall, you haven't become an early bird in my absence?"
"Perish the thought, woman. I merely stayed up so late that the morning rolled around again."
"Ah, of course, makes much more sense." She bounced down into the seat opposite him and pulled a handful of fruit from her pockets.
He watched her as she set off at peeling what appeared to be Ferelden's stubbornest orange. The rind came off in tiny patches, sending a burst of citrus scent into the air each time. Petra tried a new point of entry with renewed vigour, only to overshoot and plunge her thumb through one of the segments, sending juice spirting right into her eye.
"Shite!" she said as wiped her face with her sleeve. Niall laughed.
"Mind your language, Enchanter! That dreadful language might have been fine in the Wilds but you have young minds to mould now."
She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Don't remind me – I start teaching today - 'Introduction to not-setting-things-on-fire-by-accident'."
"That can't be what the class is called."
"It absolutely is. I designed the curriculum, I got to name the classes."
"Maker, I missed you."
To Niall's absolute horror, his eyes began stinging with tears.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Petra grabbed his hand from across the table, "You haven't really been up all night have you?"
"Sorry," he pulled his hand back to wipe his eyes, "Yeah, I have, more or less. It doesn't matter, sorry, I'm fine. Just – I'm fine."
He could read the concern on her face but she knew him well enough not to push it. They carried on with their breakfast. Petra told him all about her plans for her new classes, which made him feel guilty about how little he was doing in preparation for taking over Wynne's class. She told him all about how Ines had already taken root in Greagoir's office - petitioning him to allow her to start an aquatic vegetation garden in the littoral land of Lake Calenhad.
"What even is an aquatic garden?" Niall asked.
"Honestly, I have no idea, but if it means her giving Greagoir a headache, I couldn't be more in favour of it."
By the time she left he felt significantly lighter.
-o0o-
With the whole host of new problems the last few weeks had thrown at him, Niall was almost relieved to stumble across one so familiar. He'd decided to go back to his room to carry on writing. He knew if he procrastinated it would only get harder to pick up his quill again. No demons were going to keep him from working. Still, he hadn't exactly been in a rush to return to his room. So, Niall had taken the longest route back – and apparently the narrow corridor than ran behind some of the storage rooms was occupied.
"Ah, Ah. Oh Maker! Harder!"
"Ssshh."
"Sorry – AH!," and then, "Oh shit…"
Before Niall had had chance to turn back, the girl with her back pressed up against the wall had noticed him. The man must have seen have the look of terror suddenly spread across her face because he put her down.
He straightened out his robed and turned around,
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." said Jowan.
And for a second, Niall thought Jowan was going to hit him. He realised the girl was the chantry initiate from the choir – which also explained why she looked ready to faint from fright.
Niall held his hands up,
"Sorry, sorry," he said, "I'll just head past."
"Wait," Jowan's scowl turned to something closer to confusion, "you aren't going to make us stop?"
"Why would I – look it's none of my business."
"But you were the one who -," Jowan cut himself off and Niall wondered what it was the man was too afraid to say.
"What?"
"You're the one who told him about me and Lily."
"Who?"
Jowan looked at Niall as though he were being deliberately difficult. The girl, Lily, kept her eyes fixed on the floor.
"What do you mean 'who'? Who do you think? Uldred."
It took Niall a moment to realise what Jowan was referring to. Then he remembered, few days ago, when he'd mentioned to Uldred that Jowan had seemed enamoured with an initiate in the choir. Was that what was going on between them - what the fight he'd overheard was about?
"I didn't mean – I'm sorry. It never crossed my mind Uldred might have a problem with it. I mean, why would he?"
Jowan stared at him in disbelief.
"You haven't actually known Uldred very long have you? I saw you at the last party but -," dawning realisation spread across Jowan's face, "but you'd never been there before."
"No, I hadn't."
Niall wanted nothing to do with this. He did not want to be having this conversation. He especially did not want to be having this conversation in an isolated corridor, with an initiate, and an apprentice with a flagging but still very noticeable erection visible through his robes.
"Look – I'm not going to mention this. Not to Uldred or anyone else. Just let me passed and I'll forget I ever saw you."
Both Jowan and Lily looked extremely relieved.
-o0o-
When he saw the white corner sticking out from under his door Niall stopped dead in his tracks. He picked it up as he went inside, only he didn't see the handwriting he'd been expecting.
Tonight. Same time & place as last time.
U leaves tomorrow morning. Should be a send-off to remember.
Z
He had absolutely no idea who 'Z' was but the rest of the note was unambiguous. Last time he'd obeyed a note left under his door, he'd had the excuse of curiosity. This time, if he went, he would be willingly walking back into Uldred's den.
On one hand, Uldred had been fantastic. For a Senior Enchanter to put so much energy into helping his research – it had changed everything. A few days with Uldred had taken him beyond anything he'd accomplished with Torrin in almost two years. Losing Uldred as an ally seemed foolish and Niall was under no illusions that invitees absence from the party would be noted.
On the other hand, maybe he should quit while he was ahead. Niall wasn't blind, he knew there must be something deeper going on. And even if Niall couldn't put his finger on exactly why - Uldred frightened him.
He pushed the note to the corner of the desk and decided to make his mind up later. Now, he would focus on his work.
It has been theorised in recent literature that the effects of magebane may not be restricted to the initial mana suppressant effect but rather extend to a secondary –
He gave up mid-sentence when his eyelids began to droop shut. He put down his quill, laid down on top of his bed, and was asleep within minutes.
A loud knock startled him awake again. Still groggy, he opened the door to Torrin, who had clearly deduced Niall had been asleep and was eyeing him with disapproval.
"Maker's breath, look at your robes."
Usually when Torrin criticised him for being scruffy, there was an undertone of affection to it. Today, he looked mildly disgusted. Niall realised he hadn't changed since the previous morning. His clothing was all wrinkled and at this point most of his left sleeve was a giant ink stain. He mumbled contritely about taking a nap then said,
Torrin did not mince his words.
"What were you doing with Uldred yesterday?"
Niall stepped aside, Torrin strode into the room. When he slammed the door behind him, Niall knew he could bid goodbye to any hope of continuing his nap.
"So?" Torrin folded his arms.
"So, what? We spent the afternoon working on my project. Which you would have been there for if you hadn't been-,"
"Conveniently out of the way."
"- teaching."
They locked eyes, both weighing up which of them was right to be as indignant as they felt. Niall had done nothing wrong. He knew that. He wasn't in the mood to be chastised like a disobedient schoolboy.
"I thought we'd had this conversation already. Uldred's been supervising me. Helping me. What exactly is the problem?"
Torrin rolled his eyes and it may have been the sleep deprivation talking but it was the most infuriating thing Niall had ever witnessed.
"Oh, very mature. Look, Uldred asked if I was free to work. I was. I suggested we get you. You were busy. There's no conspiracy."
"Isn't there? I just happened to be teaching then – covering Uldred's class. It seems very convenient that his availability mysteriously never coincides with mine."
"I know you're accusing me of something – I just don't know what it is!"
The volume of his voice took them both by surprise.
"Sorry." he said straight away, "I've just – the last few days have been – trying."
Torrin's posture and his expression softened. Niall perched on the edge of his bed and after a hesitation, Torrin sat down next to him. For a moment, they say quiet, shoulder-to-shoulder, the tension still present but lessening.
"Sometimes," Torrin started slowly, searching for the right phrasing, "I think you forget how much longer I've been a mage than you have." Niall opened his mouth to protest but Torrin cut him off, "I'm not talking about magical skill, I'm talking about people. I've seen Uldred take a special interest in a few mages over the years – and almost without exception, it hasn't ended well."
Niall blinked, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing I know for sure, Uldred isn't stupid enough for that."
Torrin went quiet and Niall could tell he was holding back. He brought his hand to rest on Torrin's arm, trying to communicate tell me, if there's something I should know – tell me.
"I do wonder about Karl though."
"Karl?"
"Enchanter Thekla. He was a Libertarian, a loud one – but he and Uldred never saw eye to eye. No – that's too mild – they despised each other. Then about a year ago – they both attended a gathering of the College of Enchanters in the Marches. Only – Karl never came back."
"What?"
"Officially he requested the transfer to Kirkwall when Greagoir asked for volunteers. But – he wouldn't have."
"Maybe he did?"
Torrin shook his head.
"I knew Karl – he had reason to want to stay here. Like I said, there's nothing I could prove."
It was hard to judge whether there really was anything sinister when Torrin was being so reticent with the details. This Karl Thekla, who Niall thought he had a vague recollection of, could have had any number of motivations for wanting to leave. And Niall couldn't see Uldred doing something so petty.
Torrin sighed, "I'd just sleep easier knowing you weren't going to become Uldred's next project."
Niall bristled slightly at that. He knew Torrin meant well, the man just had an unfortunate talent for making his concern sound incredibly condescending.
"I'm not his project – my research is. He's just interested in mental resistance magic. That's it," Niall wondered how much else to say. "Plus - there's this apprentice. He's – Uldred seems to pay a lot of attention to him. So, if anyone's his project…"
He tailed off as Torrin was scrutinising him, mulling over what Niall had said.
"It really is just research? You're not – it's not political?"
"I'm not about to tattoo Libertarian slogans across my forehead, if that's what you're worried about." he playfully nudged his shoulder into Torrin's.
The tension drained away after that, with Torrin reassured that Niall wasn't in any immediate danger. They'd been arguing a lot lately but it never seemed to last very long. Torrin had a class to teach in half an hour so they stayed on the bed talking until then. It had been a while since they'd had time to catch up. Niall had apparently missed quite the drama surrounding the new lead tenor of the chapel choir.
"I've never known an elf with such an ego." Torrin huffed, "Which is rich given his voice threatens to crack on anything above a middle C. Some of us are convinced he's really a baritone who only auditioned as a tenor because the lead was vacant."
Niall just listened, smiling at how invested Torrin got in these petty squabbles. It contrasted so starkly with his usual stoic front as the strict professor who gave apprentices far too many assignments.
Torrin got up to leave, and as he did – he kissed Niall. It was only quick but it took Niall by surprise. Torrin was usually incredibly good at compartmentalising. If he came to discuss something work-related there was never any hint of the other aspect of their relationship. It helped to keep things no-strings-attached. Niall didn't spend too long analysing, he put the kiss down to Torrin having been worried about him. He sat back at his desk, intending to continue working, but his mind was on other things.
-o0o-
In the end, he decided to go to the party. Of course, he did. If anything, Torrin's warnings had only served to feed his morbid curiosity. He did feel slightly guilty about that – since Torrin had been so worried about him. However, Niall felt he had to go - it would be ungrateful not to after all of Uldred's help. The near certainty of the presence of quality alcohol was also a persuasive factor.
When he arrived, the same templar was at the door to let him inside. The whole experience felt far too familiar for something he'd only done once before. The only difference, he noticed when he turned the final corner in the caverns, was that there were only half as many people here this time.
Niall scanned the diminished crowd for Uldred. He felt a strange sense of déjà vu when I saw him standing with his arm draped around an apprentice. Only it wasn't Jowan, that much was clear. This time his bony hand rested on the shoulder of skinny, elven girl who had her arms crossed tightly across her chest and her eyes darted nervously around the place.
Watching Uldred sip wine and entertain his audience, it was hard to believe that tomorrow morning Uldred would march to join the king's army in fighting darkspawn.
Darkspawn. That was strange in itself. Most people believed the darkspawn had ceased to be a real threat after the end of the fourth Blight. Now there was a war on – a war in their own country. But unless the horde rowed across Calenhad Lake and knocked on the tower's front door – the mages likely wouldn't give the war a second thought. It brought into sharper focus just how isolated they were.
"You'll burn holes into the back of his head staring like that." said an older mage, she must have walked in behind him.
"Oh," he hadn't realised he was staring, "I was – thinking about the war. Uldred seems calm."
She laughed at that, "I've known Uldred for many years. I've seen him furious. Manic. Devastated. Exhausted. But I haven't once seen him calm."
Niall laughed, he could believe that.
They made small talk for a minute or two before the woman headed over to her friend. Before he had time to decided on the fastest way to acquire a drink-
"Niall!" Anders beckoned him over to the back wall.
Anders was huddled with a few others, around a flat-topped stone with dozens of open bottles standing precariously on top it. Godwin was stood behind the makeshift counter.
"Ah Ser Niall, welcome to Godwin's Tavern, best bar you'll find in this whole secret cavern." it was obvious he had already sampled a significant amount of his own product.
Anders picked up his glass from the 'bar', took a sip, then grinned,
"Order up, Niall. I can recommend this -," he sloshed his drink around, "What did you call it, Gods?"
"That's sweet Antivan port, chocolate liqueur, cream and a twist of orange. I call it 'The Lucrosian's Purse' – because it's very rich." Godwin grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
Niall laughed and some of the tension he'd been carrying in his shoulders all day melted away. This was just a farewell party. People were talking and drinking. People he knew. Uldred might be an odd man, but there was nothing sinister about tonight.
"Got anything else? I hate port." said Niall.
"In that case – you could always try the house special." He grinned mischievously and Anders swatted him on the arm.
"Sshh. You can't start him on that. He'll die."
Niall's eyebrows jumped up into his hairline, "Well, now I have to try one."
"Good man!" Godwin beamed and set off grabbing bottles, measuring out shots and pouring them into tumblers which Niall could only assume he'd brought with him purely to add flair to his bartending. Godwin started narrating as he poured his mixtures out into their final destination glasses, one for Niall and another for Anders.
"This is my greatest creation - cinnamon-infused whiskey, a measure of dark Llomerryn rum, and the secret ingredient."
He reached down and picked a bottle off the floor. The label had been torn off and the glass was an opaque dark-green. He pulled the cork out with his mouth and poured a measure of viscous brown liquid into each glass.
"What is that?" Niall began to worry Anders' hadn't been exaggerating.
"That is Valenta's red. Direct from Orzammar. The dwarves call it 'the Paragon of ales.'" he topped the glasses with a sprig of elfroot and pushed a now completed cocktail to Niall.
He took a sip and spluttered.
"Andraste's ass!" he coughed.
Anders and Godwin laughed. Anders made a show of sipping his without a problem. Niall tried again, prepared this time. The dwarven ale was stronger than anything he'd ever tried. It was earthy, bitter, and the consistency of molasses. Despite that, it didn't actually taste terrible– once he got used to the burning sensation on his tongue.
"Not bad right?" Anders' nudged him.
"What's it called?"
Godwin looked very pleased to be asked that.
"Well it's strong enough to make you drunk enough to forget who you are so – I call it 'The Rite of Tranquillity.'"
Niall gawped at him in horror for a second before bursting out laughing. All the fear and exhaustion of the day seemed to leave him as he wheezed at the horrific joke. As mages, there was so much darkness they never dared speak of, so much fear. It was cathartic, for once, to hear the name of a terror spoken aloud and have permission to laugh at it.
He went to take another sip but someone behind him grabbed his hand and pulled his glass straight out of it.
"Ah – sorry." said a shaky voice.
He turned to see the elf who'd been stood by Uldred's side. She looked embarrassed but made no motion to return his drink.
"Uldred told me to take that off you," she apologised, "He said he'd rather you stayed sober tonight."
"What? Why?" Niall couldn't fathom why Uldred would possibly care.
"He didn't say. He said it's fine if you want a bit of brandy or something. But no cocktails and nothing dwarven. Uh – sorry again." she left as abruptly as she'd appeared, taking the drink with her.
"That was – weird." Anders said.
If Niall wanted Godwin to pour him another drink – there'd be nothing Uldred could do to stop him. He had every right to grab the bottle of Valenta's red and pour the whole thing down his neck - if he wanted to. But disobeying Uldred felt unwise.
He stayed by the 'bar' for the next hour. Most people there came over at least once for a cocktail. Except Uldred. In fact, he seemed to be periodically disappearing from the party. Niall felt slightly peeved the man hadn't come over to explain himself about the drink. But still, Niall stuck obediently to brandy as he watched the other two men become drunker and drunker. Godwin seemed to be alright but Anders' looked one whiff of alcohol away from collapsing in a heap.
"Hey Niall," Anders tapped him on the shoulder despite the fact Niall was already looking right at him, "Hey, I know I said I had a one-time-only rule. But! Exceptions. Can. Be. Made." he punctuated the last word with a hiccough and brought his hand to rest on Niall's thigh.
He brushed it off gently and laughed, "Ask again when you're not about to keel over and we'll see."
The clinking sound of someone tapping a glass interrupted them. They turned to see Uldred about to launch into a speech.
"My dearest friends, for once I will keep this short since what is there left to say. You all know I leave in the morning. There is a chance I will not return. But no matter my fate at the hands of the darkspawn, the wheels are in motion now, so I will simply ask you to raise a glass and toast -,"
"To your safe return," one of the women shouted and a chorus of raised glasses chimed,
"To your safe return."
Everyone made their move to leave but before Niall had gotten up from his seat, Uldred made a beeline for him.
"Evening, Niall," he said. Up close he looked incredibly gaunt, tried, "Once I've said my goodbyes, accompany me back to my quarters. There is something I need to discuss with you."
Once again, Niall did as Uldred told him to.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N - Right so, I have finally got the end of this fic properly planned out aaaand we're looking at 13 chapters + an epilogue. Since that's more than I initially thought - I'm going to start updating twice a week. From now on updates will be MONDAYS and THURSDAYS
Hope the chapter was okay? Longest one yet! (and I hope you can forgive me for peppering in another reference to the Kanders prequel I haven't even officially started writing yet aha!)