"And there are truly no griffons left, not even in the far north?" Finley asked, keeping her pace even with the Warden's as they walked along the road. Cassandra knew that she had to be enthralled for her to not even notice that they were on one. Throughout their travels, the Herald had expressed on multiple occasions that she preferred fields and forests to any man-made space.
She was tempted to tell Finley again to stop asking their newest member so many questions, but Warden Blackwall had already laughed off her concern twice, saying that he didn't mind answering what was permissible about the Order. It was, after all, an order of many secrets.
He also kept insisting that the Wardens were not nearly as interesting as Finley seemed to think them to be.
It did nothing to assuage her interest.
"If there are any griffons left, it would be the single most kept secret within the order," Blackwall offered. "One that a recruiter such as myself wouldn't be privy to."
Finley turned her gaze forward, eyes dancing with a childish wonder. "So they could be out there. In some secret place." She sighed. "I would love to meet a griffon."
"You find a lot of creatures in secret places?" Bull asked, walking just behind the two. Sera had claimed her spot on Finley's other side. She seemed thrilled enough to listen in on the conversation as well.
"Oh, there are all kinds of those, if you are lucky enough to stumble across them," Finley twittered, easily the most enthusiastic that Cassandra had ever seen her. "Many of the places were purposely hidden, though, so it makes finding them nigh impossible if you aren't already looking." She laced her fingers in front of her a moment before spinning in a half twirl so that she was walking backwards, facing Blackwall. "What about…."
Cassandra didn't bother to listen to the question, shaking her head and facing forward. If she'd known it would be this easy to get the Herald to open up, she'd have hunted down a Grey Warden in the beginning.
Since they'd made it to the roads, Varric had moved up to walk with the seeker, letting Bull take up the rear of their party. "This is gonna be great when I tell it to everyone back at Haven."
"Do not embellish too much," Cassandra muttered.
"For once, I won't need to," Varric cackled. He reached up and absently scratched his chest, gaze ahead as Blackwall once again insisted that the Wardens were not nearly as fascinating as Finley thought them to be. More questions followed. "I'm surprised he hasn't excused himself and run for the hills yet." He paused and then his grin widened. "Not that it would do any good. She'd catch him before he hit the tree line."
"She would," Cassandra agreed.
"Seeker, are you smiling? Because if so, I've officially seen everything."
Cassandra shot him a glare. "Do not be ridiculous."
"Oh, of course," Varric grinned. "You're just relaxing your frowning muscles. My mistake."
Even as Cassandra scoffed, Sera's voice interrupted their conversation. "Andraste's arse. What's that?"
Cassandra and Varric both stopped, instinctively reaching for their weapons as they turned to see what the others were looking at. Finley was already a few yards off the road, taking cautious steps toward what looked like an injured templar. Cassandra hurried after her, along with the others.
Something simply felt…wrong about the man. At first she couldn't place it, but when she got closer, she could see that he appeared to have some type of blood poisoning.
"Stardust, don't touch him!" Varric cried out, bounding past the seeker to their Herald. He managed to reach her just a few feet shy of the slouched over man, gripping her by the arm and jerking her backwards. She stumbled, turning to the dwarf, obviously annoyed.
"The man is hurt."
"The man has red lyrium growing out of his shoulder," Varric hissed.
The rest of their party skidded to a halt around the fallen templar, forming a half circle, all of their weapons drawn. Varric tried to tug Finley back further. "I told you what red lyrium could do to people, right? When it was just near them." He managed to drag her back a few paces, even as the rest of them took a few steps away. "This guy has it in him."
"I'll be careful," Finley twisted free of his grasp, trotting back up, ignoring protests from Sera and Bull as she dropped down to her knees beside the man. She held her hands out, just above his skin. Rather than try to cast a spell, however, she lightly brushed her fingers across his head. He was breathing. "Ser…? Can you hear me?"
The templar groaned, a strange noise rattling in time with the sound, as though he were possessed by something. Even Finley went rigid at that.
"Stardust, even if you can wake him up, he'll be crazy. Trust me—"
She'd already placed her hands on him, whispering a soft spell. As she channeled her magic, the red lines running out from where the lyrium jutted out of his shoulder began to recede, slowly. The light surrounding her hands glowed a bit brighter. Her brow knit in concentration. She leaned closer, inspecting the red lyrium.
Varric had fallen silent, though his jaw was tense as he watched, Bianca aimed and finger on the trigger. As Finley worked, however, he slowly lowered his weapon, jaw hanging slack.
Having heard of what red lyrium had done to Kngiht-Commander Meredith, Cassandra was equally awed. It was good to see that such things could be dealt with, so long as a decent healer was about.
The templar's eyes shot open.
Even as Finley stopped her spell and smiled at him, assuring him that she meant no harm, he let out a maddened scream and lunged for her. She threw herself backwards, barely managing to roll to the side before he was on top of her. The veins of red began to slither out from his shoulder again, overtaking the parts of his skin that had initially been corrupted and extending further.
His plated hands left deep gouges in the earth where he'd dug in, too slow as he tried to grab Finley. He rose to his feet, a maddened scream on his lips, and didn't even flinch when one of Bianca's bolts hit him in the shoulder.
Cassandra shot forward and slammed her shield into the man, knocking him off his balance, trying to make sure he didn't go after Finley again. As she did so, she felt a magical shield encompass her. Good. Finley still had her wits about her.
Sera's arrow slammed into an exposed part of his shoulder, near Varric's bolt, near the lyrium.
Still the templar stood.
Renewed shields covered them as they circled the man, striking quickly, guarding each other's weak spots. Blackwall managed to shield bash the mad templar from behind as Bull swung at him again, and the templar let out a strange gurgle as he met the Qunari's axe. Blood bubbled up from his mouth, and he collapsed to his knees and then his side.
Cassandra whirled away from him, marching back over to Finley. She was on her feet, near Varric, magic just dying from her finger tips as she finished her last protection spell. Fresh blood covered one side of her neck. The templar's aim hadn't been as off as Cassandra had thought.
A trill of guilt passed through the seeker as she examined Finley. The blood was there, but the wounds were gone. "You are well?"
"Yes," Finley murmured, a scowl settling on her features as she looked down at the templar. She reached up and felt her neck, shuddering when her glove came back bloody.
"And that's why I told you to stay away from him," Varric snapped, smacking her on the arm. "Believe it or not, I'm not all bullshit!"
Finley didn't reply, instead walking cautiously over to where the templar had fallen. She stopped a few feet short, taking in a quick breath. "He's still alive."
Cassandra recoiled at the thought as she looked down at the red lyrium touched templar. How…?
Before she could even think to ask, Sera was shouting. Something hit a rock in the grass behind her, and Cassandra instinctively spun around, bringing her shield up and deflecting a dagger as it slashed toward her. She thrust her shield forward, knocking back the man who'd tried to jump her, and then gutted him with her blade while he attempted to catch himself.
As she turned, she found that several others had joined the fray, two rogues, and…
Her eyes widened. Three templars?
These men didn't seem to have the same infection as the one they'd first found. They tried to coordinate their efforts, but between Finley's healing and the rest of their abilities, the ambush failed.
As the last templar collapsed to the ground, Bull heaved his axe up over his shoulder.
Finley darted forward, hand outstretched. "Wait!"
Bull's axe stopped mid swing, the Qunari nearly losing his balance in the process.
"Are you serious?" Bull rumbled, though he let his axe thud into the ground beside him.
Cassandra could see Finley struggling to come up with a reason, the Herald working a new hole into one of her sleeves as she picked at it. "Don't you want to know what's going on? They don't seem to have mistaken us for rebel mages."
"We can just loot 'em for reasons," Sera snapped, rolling her eyes when Cassandra let out a disgusted scoff. She held up a note. "They aren't exactly using their stuff anymore, are they? Better to ship it off to someone who can make something with it than let it rust in a field." She unfolded the note with her index fingers and thumbs, careful to avoid a bit of blood spatter on it.
Blackwall stepped up beside her, reading the note over her shoulder. His gaze flitted toward the templar with lyrium growing out of him. "They were under orders to retrieve that man."
"And to kill anyone who saw him," Sera spat into the grass, crumpling the note up in her hand. "Figures. Important tits can't let their secrets out, I'd bet."
Inspecting the templar that Finley had saved, Cassandra paced slowly through the grass around him. "Let us bring him back to Haven for questioning."
"We're almost a week out," Varric protested.
"Well, if you think you can get information out of him sooner, then by all means," Cassandra snapped. She motioned to the bodies surrounding them. "They were here for that man," she pointed to the first templar they'd found. "We need to know why, and why he had red lyrium growing out of him."
As Bull rummaged through his things to get rope to bind their prisoner with, Blackwall stepped over to the first templar, sword still drawn. He knelt beside him, inspecting him, and then slit his throat. "No reason for him to suffer, when he's already too far gone."
Though Cassandra had fully expected Finley to protest, the mage was quiet, simply turning her head away. Her lips moved, as though in a silent prayer. Cassandra had seen her do that on several occasions, and she wondered what gods the Herald prayed to.
It would be nice if it was the Maker.