Chapter 59) Separate Paths
Nuada POV
You could spot some Crows by the markings on their faces. Antiva might like tattoos for decoration, but some were only worn by the Crows. They were known to kill anyone else who wore them.
"Does it hurt?" I asked one. I knew they were a Crow, despite the disguise as a blind beggar, but I doubted they knew I knew. "The tattoos."
"It depends on where you get them, child," they replied. They made a show of groping before resting their hand on my head. "And if the person knows what they're doing. If you want one, get it when you're older. Grown. And make sure they know about the oils."
"Oils?"
"Makes the ink take better, and makes the skin numb so it doesn't hurt as much. But, seriously, wait until you're older. You don't want it to stretch too much."
"Okay."
Connor was alive and sane. Isolde was alive. Teagan was alive. Not everyone in the castle and village were dead. All were miracles, yet I couldn't help but feel vexed anyway. Eamon was still in a coma, one that not even Wynne could wake him from. The demon's bargain with Connor certainly gave a clear picture of what 'alive' meant.
More annoyingly, despite all the trouble she unleashed, Isolde begged us for help finding the Sacred Ashes. If Teagan hadn't requested the same damn thing, I might've told her exactly where she could shove her request, no matter how much I actually liked Eamon.
Shaking my head, I continued walking through the hallway, having just left Alistair and Connor to their play. Connor was delighted to see Alistair again, and I snickered at how angry Isolde was about it, since I knew she wouldn't dare say anything. Elspeth and I had all the power in the Fereldan to have her locked up in chains, and all three of us knew it. No way was she going to risk angering us.
I passed by one of the balconies and paused when I saw Layla was sitting by the railing, eyes shut as if asleep. I crept a little closer, seeing if she'd stir, but when she didn't, I shrugged and decided to check out the view.
There, sadly, wasn't much to see. The village was bustling, but for the worst of reasons: funerals. There were too many for the Chantry to handle, so they were being piled into ships and set adrift on Lake Calenhad, set aflame by fire arrows to give them proper burnings. Morrigan, I knew, had actually offered to just burn them herself, but the villagers had refused. They didn't want to deal with more magic. I think Cleon, Elspeth, and Leliana were down there among the archers, adding their skill.
Certainly, it was eerily pretty, watching the boats burn as they sailed. It was like tiny stars dying on the horizon. I supposed, in a way, they were. All the lives snuffed out because Isolde wanted to protect her son from the Circle, to the point of breaking laws, and trusted the very wrong person.
"Oh, Nuada!" I glanced over at Layla's squeak and turned to face her, making sure my blind side was towards the railing. "How long have you been here?" she murmured, staring at me with wide eyes. It was almost hilarious how unchanged she was, given all the horror stories of psychopathic blood mages. It was just another thing to prove blood magic was a tool. Yes, it was a tool with a great deal of temptations, but I knew hardened warriors who were often tempted to cleave someone in two. They had the discipline to not do so. Maybe if blood magic wasn't so feared, not so many desperate people would long for it. "Nuada?"
"I'm sorry," I murmured before grinning, leaning on the railing. "Your beauty captivated me so much I forgot how to speak."
"Of course you did." I nearly laughed when she rolled her eyes. Sarcasm fit her well. "No, please, be serious. What were you thinking about?"
"I was thinking of how you break so many blood mage stereotypes." She grimaced. Clearly, it wasn't a decision that sat well with her, even if she had decided to make it. "Do you think there are medicinal ways to use it?"
"Hmm…" She bit her lip as she thought, resting her arms on the railing as she twisted to face me a little more fully. "That… might be an interesting line of research." She stood, her hand tracing over the scar on my blind eye. My breath caught at the touch, my heart hammering. I hoped she didn't notice. "Maybe I could have saved your eye, had I manipulated the blood to hold it." She smiled wryly. "Ah, but that assumes you would even let me."
"…If it's you, I think I'd be okay with it." She blinked slowly, hand still on my face. "I trust you, after all. I wouldn't let you heal me at all if I didn't." She smiled sweetly at that. "But that brings up an interesting line of thought. There are many women who bleed out in childbirth, for instance. Would a blood mage be able to prevent that?"
"In theory, yes, they would." Her smile grew. "Perhaps it can even force scabbing to plug up the injury in the event healing magic does not take." Of course, my mind immediately jumped to 'well, what would happen if you clot the blood in the veins?', but I knew better than to mention that. "Oh, there are some illnesses of the blood. Perhaps it can cure them?" She laughed a bit, stepping back and letting her hand fall from my face. "I should think on it more. It would be interesting to study when things are calmer."
"It sounds like it." I smiled at her. "So, were you taking a kitten nap out here?"
"Is not the term 'cat nap'?"
"You're too little." She scowled and I laughed. "Regardless, were you sleeping? Should I leave you to it?"
"Oh, no, I was not sleeping." She waved away the offer before stretching her arms above her head with a little squeak. "I was looking through the Arcane Warrior's memories." She was what? Oh, wait, she was talking about the spirit that dropped its memories into her head. "Did you know there are different subsets of mages?"
"I am assuming you mean something different from the 'specializations' some Circle mages take after being Harrowed?" I asked, leaning against the railing again. Her eyes were sparkling. "If that is the case, no, I didn't know that." I really needed to read up more on magical theory.
"Yes, specializations are something mages choose, but subsets are what you are born as." She had the biggest smile on her face. "For instance, there are the Dreamers. They are mages who can enter the Fade at will, without the aid of lyrium or blood." So, there were mages we could've really used here, huh? "They are powerful, but rare, due to how attractive they are to demons, and how frail of mind they typically are. There has not been one in… three ages, I think?" Now she was bouncing in excitement. "That is one known very well. There are numerous records of ancient elves and Tevinter magisters who killed enemies through their dreams." Oh, that was a lovely thought. "But there are more!" Oh? "The one I was looking at was something called 'warrior mages'. Well, truthfully, the name is far more elegant, but it is a jumbled mess between the Warrior's memories and mine, so that is the best I can manage."
"So, what's special about these warrior mages?" This was fun. It was fun, watching her be so enthusiastic, especially given how long the past few days had been.
"They are mages who cannot cast what typical mages would call 'basic' spells." At this, she became more somber. "Well, they can, but it can be quite difficult. The ancient elves were often able to identify them by how hard it was for them to cast a simple fireball." That…
"They must've hated themselves."
"Yes." She shuddered, hugging herself. "The Warrior saw many kill themselves from self-loathing, because no one was teaching them properly. It wasn't their fault; their magic is literally incapable of producing these spells, and to try is… well, you have better luck fitting a lake into a teacup." She shook her head. "They are complete masters of creation spells, of arcane and entropy. They have a natural affinity for battle." I bet that was where the name came from. "But they cannot call fire down from the skies, or freeze over a lake with a thought."
"So, you're not one."
"No, I am a very typical mage." She laughed a little. "I have more power than some, but that is like a giant river versus a small one. A typical mage to a warrior mage is like… is like a river compared to a lake." Both were sources of water, but supported completely different varieties of life. "It is almost a shame. The Warrior was one." Ah, so that was how she likely learned of it. "Because they were, they were able to do things with Arcane Warrior that I am, frankly, incapable of."
"Do you mind giving me an example?"
"Um…" She thought a little, tapping her cheek. "Ah, have you ever seen Knight Enchanters fight?" I nodded. I had seen them numerous times in Orlais, actually. "Well, Knight Enchanter is a 'modern' version of Arcane Warrior." Oh? "Of course, it is much weaker, given how many hands and minds the knowledge has passed through." The very thought of that was amusing, and I wasn't quite sure why. "But there are similar abilities. The Spirit Sword of the Knight Enchanters is one such thing. However, an Arcane Warrior can create more than just blades." Now that was useful, and terrifying. "A Knight Enchanter can 'cloak' themselves with the magic of the Fade, but an Arcane Warrior can 'shroud' themselves in it, making it much more permanent." Well, damn. "While I believe I can eventually do that, I cannot summon weapons, among many other abilities that I must shift through."
"That sounds interesting." She nodded eagerly, but I noticed something sad in her demeanor. "Does the warrior mage concept remind you of someone?"
She stared at me before sighing heavily. "Yes." I waited for her to continue. "It matches Jowan." Her voice was so, so soft. "It all matches Jowan stupidly well. I remember how much he struggled learning fire spells." She sighed. "It also matches some others I knew in the Circle, who took their lives in frustration." She smiled bitterly. "Maker, it even matches Uldred. It makes me wonder…"
"In your memories, did a lot of those 'warrior mages' turn to blood magic for strength?"
"Yes." She sighed again. "Yes, they did."
"It seems the Circle is faulty not only from the 'templar' side of things." She grimaced, but nodded. "That is a failing on part of the mages, for not considering the possibility." She nodded again. "Are you okay?"
"Why would I be upset over the Circle not knowing something?"
"Well, that ignorance has likely led to a lot of deaths." She frowned, tensing. "But, I was asking about Jowan, since you brought him up." She froze. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I am fine." Yet, even as she said the words, her eyes swam in tears. "I made the choice. We both did. He was the one who suggested it." Her voice broke, breath hitched. "I…"
"Would you like me to pretend?"
"…I want you to hug me." I froze at her pleading tone. "Please?" She clung to my sleeve, looking up at me.
Hesitantly, as if she were made of glass, I wrapped my arms around her, tugging her close as she sobbed into my chest, her hands clinging to my back. I whispered soothing words, in every language I knew, and stroked her soft hair to try and comfort her. My heart ached as she cried, and I tightened my hold on her, wishing I could just keep her safe and away from trauma. What a foolish thought. There wasn't a safe place anywhere in Thedas, especially for a Warden. Why would I even think something so…? Ah. No, I knew. It was the answer to the question I had been asking since I almost kissed her in Highever.
I was in love with her. I was truly in love with her. And all I could do was hold her as she cried. How useless was I, huh?
"Remind me again why it's just us two discussing the future plans?" I asked dryly as I sprawled out on the floor of the study Aiden and I were borrowing. "I can't remember the excuses."
"I don't even know," Aiden sighed. Unlike me, he was sitting all properly in a chair by the fire we had going. It was getting cold. Winter was coming. The south would have snow before long. I wonder how the darkspawn reacting to snow. "Well, Mistress Layla wanted to check on the wounded, Cleon was helping with patrols, Alistair is playing with Connor still, Zevran mentioned something about ironing dogs." I laughed at that. "Essentially, three had excuses and the others just told us to get on with it."
"Well, that's fair, I suppose." I rolled onto my back, grimacing as my hair got all tangled. "I need to cut my hair."
"Do you?" Aiden glanced at my hair and blinked slowly. "Is it… at your hips now?"
"I don't think it's quite that long, but possibly? I'll check Elspeth's. Our hair grows at about the same rate, stupidly enough."
"Is it not a headache?"
"It's more aggravating than a pain." I shrugged, deciding to sit up and undo my ponytail to finger-comb it. "Ah, we are far off topic. Of course, I don't know what the topic is. You have already decided we would have a small group go after the Ashes and the rest go to Orzammar, yeah?"
"Well, for one, I want logical reasons to go after the Ashes for when Sten inevitably complains." I was just glad we had the groups already set. It would be Layla, Alistair, Elspeth, and me to go ash hunting. The rest were heading to Orzammar. "I can mention the Landsmeet, right?"
"It terms of Landsmeet, Eamon is a power because of his relation to the queen, and his position of being an older, skilled leader. That's what gives him the edge over Fergus in this situation." I sighed, grimacing at a tangle. I needed a good brush, damn it. "So, Ashes gives a chance to save a powerful… let's go with soldier or something. I'm not sure Qunari waste time with alliances." Aiden nodded. "It's also important to the Chantry." Aiden grimaced, and I smiled wryly. "I will be the first one to admit the Chantry is corrupt." My words were much blunt, blunter than I had ever been on the topic. "We won't go into all the reasons why. I'm sure Cleon can list more than me easily." Aiden laughed at that. "But we have to admit the Chantry is a power. There are few things that rally people than religion." One need only look to the Exalted Marches to prove that. "If we get that on our side, then it's more troops, more quickly, and looks good for the Wardens in the future."
"So, the seemingly longer route is actually more efficient." Aiden laughed again, resting his head in his hand as he leaned against the arm of his chair. "That'll take him a bit to work through." Honestly, I thought he'd just leave it at that, but maybe I was hoping too much?
"I'm surprised Wynne and Leliana aren't seizing the chance to try and find it." Let's get off Sten's back for a bit, as much fun as it was to joke about his 'dour old soldier' ways.
"Wynne stated the thought her healing ability would be useful in Orzammar." It also gave her and Layla some separation time to calm down after… well, everything that happened here. "Leliana stated that while she would be honored, she believes she is to help against the Blight more than anything, and Orzammar knows more about darkspawn than any other place in Thedas. Oh, was that her excuse? I think it's more of her wanting to continue flirting with Aiden and seeing if her interest will blossom to love. Though, it seemed like she and Zevran were having fun too. Maybe the three of them could all just hook up. "Will you four be all right?"
"We're a very balanced group." Alistair and I could block damage, Layla could heal, and Elspeth could cover. "You'll need all the help you can get in Orzammar. Trust me. I've been there."
"Any advice?"
"They'll drag you into their politics. Play them." Aiden looked a little dubious. "Aiden, you've spent years as a servant to nobles in the Landsmeet. I'm sure you know a lot more about politics than you think you do."
"I'll… think of something, then." He sighed, and stood up. "All right. I think that's all we need for now. From here, it's supplies. I'd like to leave within the next couple of days, if not tomorrow." He gave me a look. "See if you can toughen Alistair up?" Hmm? "He's a candidate for the throne, right? I want to see if he'll be a good one before pushing support."
"See? You're already playing." He gaped and I laughed, standing as well. "I'll do what I can. But he's slowly doing it on his own."
"Mmm…" Aiden sighed. "We don't have time."
"Have faith."
"I have faith in him, and in our group. It's everyone else I have trouble with." Ha! "Ah, no matter. I'm going to find the others and nag them about preparing."
"Have fun with that!" He gave me a dirty look and I laughed, opening the door for us. "Hey, I'm your second and your main tactician. I'll scream when it's battle time, but otherwise, you're the one yelling."
"That makes too much sense for you." He followed me out, shaking his head with a smile. "Later, Lord Nuada." We parted with a wave, and I wandered the hallway, stretching again. I should find Elspeth. There was no doubt in my mind she had a brush I could borrow. Maybe I should stop being lazy and hack off a large chunk of my hair, but I liked being lazy when I could. So, I needed to brush it, and I wasn't doing that with a comb. It just tangled my hair more and, really, they were just pain in the-
"There is an entire ritual that must be done!" That… sounded like Zevran around the corner. What was he talking about? "First, I need to bath you in a mixture of oils and rosewater." What in flames was he talking about?
"You… need to bath me?" That was Alistair. Oh, I was not missing this conversation. "That seems odd." I stepped around the corner, almost laughing at the bewildered look on Alistair's face, and the mischievous one of Zevran's. This was going to be hilarious.
"No, no, no! Not at all!" Zevran smirked, leaning into Alistair slightly. "It needs to be worked into your skin, preparing it to receive the ink." Were they talking tattoos? "The massage is quite… pleasurable." I think I cracked a rib trying not to laugh. "Do not worry. You're in good hands."
"You're having me on, aren't you?"
"I might be." Alistair rolled his eyes and Zevran laughed. "Shall I explain the rest of the ritual to you?"
"You can explain it to me," I called, grinning when they both spun to look at me. "I'm quite curious about this massage." Alistair gawked, while Zevran laughed again. "Come now. Let's discuss, unless the offer was only open to Alistair?"
"Now, how can I resist such a handsome man's offer?" Zevran teased, smirking as he slinked over to me. "This way. Alistair, you may watch." Alistair's face was going bright red. "I must get my ink and needles. And oils. Those are ever so important."
"I knew you were having me on." Alistair sounded sulky. I wanted to look to check, but I was quite comfy, and I didn't want to mess Zevran up. "But why are you tattooing his entire back?"
"I'm not," Zevran gently corrected. I automatically winced as I felt the needle go in. This was a bit more painful than I expected, even with the oil to numb the area. "I am only doing his right side here." I thought it funny he decided to go with my blind side to do the tattoo. "I simply added it to both sides to make sure the pain did not drift. And for my own amusement. Nuada played along."
"You really think I'm going to pass up a free, and skilled, back massage after everything we've gone through?" I deadpanned. Alistair burst into laughter, while Zevran's chuckle was much quieter, focused on tattooing the entire right side of my back, and apparently part of my right shoulder. "What's he drawing, Alistair? I know he won't give me a straight answer."
"It's a wing." Alistair moved to sit where I could see him. I was resting on a surprisingly comfy table, likely because of the blanket Zevran put down, with my blind eye against the wood. "A griffon wing, to be specific," he added. "At least, it looks more like the pictures of griffon wings than other birds." I gave him a skeptical look and he squirmed. "There were books, okay? I know how to read. One thing the Chantry does right is teach all it's orphans how to read." That was true. "I wonder if there's a way to give free lessons to everyone for that. There's not a system now, right?"
"No, Uncle Maric tried, but with all the other troubles he had to deal with, he didn't have time to figure out a way to convince parents to let their children go." Cailan and Anora might've picked it up, but things were so hectic after Uncle Maric died…
"What about free food?" Hmm? "A free lunch or something. It couldn't be much, but having a guaranteed meal might make it worth it? I remember running through the fields here and hearing parents worry about how they were going to feed their children." He looked thoughtful before shaking his head. "Oh, don't mind me. I'm rambling. Not like I could even do something about it." Well, that depended on how the Landsmeet ultimately went.
"So, you played around here?" Zevran asked, steering the conversation away. I felt lightheaded. "Alistair, pass Nuada some of those candied nuts. It'll help him."
"I'd say I'm fine, but no one believes me anymore," I sighed, accepting the nuts. They were tasty anyway. "But yes, Alistair, tell us. I thought you just stayed in the castle." Of course, based on the little I had heard of his life here, I wouldn't have blamed him for running. That said, I purposely didn't try to find out more, due to not wanting my temper to run rampant on potential allies.
"There's not much to tell," Alistair replied with a shrug. "I played in the fields outside the village when I had time, begged one of the Chantry sisters to make me toy soldiers. She was the only one who made me toys. Arl Eamon bought me some, but there's something special about a handmade one."
"I can understand that. Nan would make Elspeth and me toys when we were lonely in the courts."
"Nan?"
"Nan was… actually, I don't know what her real name was." I smiled wryly. "Whatever it was, we couldn't pronounce it, so we called her 'Nan'. It was short for 'nanny'." And she had thought it so cute that she just took it as an affectionate nickname from everyone, even my parents. "She took care of Fergus, Elspeth, and me while we grew up, and worked as the castle cook until Oren was born, where she just ended up his nanny too." I laughed softly. "Maker, she hated Eoin when she had to work as cook, though. He was always causing trouble in the kitchens, and she had such a temper. But she was also unfailingly kind to us." She died during the Fall of Highever. I remembered stepping over her body. I had to ignore her. I regretted that so badly.
"Is she why you are so charming, Nuada?" Zevran asked. He was smoothing something over my back now. "You had to talk your way out of trouble?"
"Oh, please, Nan was immune to everyone's charms. Antiva gave me my charm."
"Ah, of course. Antiva does so adore silver-tongues, when not trying to stab people in the back." Yeah, and Orlais like ripping out the silver-tongues to use as medals.
"What's that you're doing, Zevran?" Alistair asked, pointing to my back and changing the subject on us. "Ointment?"
"Yes, it's to help keep the area from getting infected. I'll bandage it up, but we'll remove it again after dinner. I'll give you detailed instructions, Nuada, on how to care for it."
"And Layla's not going to just heal it because…?"
"Because rituals." Zevran chuckled. "Actually, I was so focused that I forgot we had healing mages. I think it will be fine."
"I'm the test subject, basically," I noted dryly. It earned me some laughs. "Is there a mirror so I can see?"
"Certainly, my friend." As I pushed myself up slowly, wincing at the spikes of pain in my back, Zevran produced a mirror and held it up. "It's much redder right now, of course, but I must say, it's quite fetching."
It was more than that, I noted, as I glanced over my shoulder to catch my reflection. Red as it was, the black and silver ink painted a picture of a wing just about to unfurl for flight. A couple of feathers fell over my shoulder, but the rest was solely on my back. It looked powerful. I actually felt a bit powerful, looking at it.
I felt like if I had to go through the Tower of Ishal all over again, I'd win. That was a feeling I hadn't expected.
"It's amazing, Zevran," I breathed, smiling. I couldn't think of any other words, at least in King's tongue. Maybe there was a better one in others, but Zevran might not understand. "Thank you."
"It was my pleasure." Zevran smiled proudly before turning to Alistair. "Well, now that you know what it is like, what is your thought on getting one yourself now?" Oh, was that what started all this?
"It's tempting," Alistair answered, smiling slightly. "It looks good. If you get tired of being an assassin, I think you've a calling." Zevran laughed and bowed. "I'll think about it some more, and if I still want one after we all meet up again…"
"I shall gladly do one for you. And any of the others in the group. I forgot how fun it was." I almost retorted with something sarcastic, but he looked so genuinely pleased that I bit my tongue. "Ah, but I digress. Let me finish tending to it, Nuada. You can show it off after I have talked to Layla and Wynne. I doubt the mages in the Tower didn't experiment with tattoos."
"I look forward to it," I laughed. And, I really did. I liked it, a lot. I felt like I was flying free at last, and oh, was it ever glorious.
Author's Note: All right, end of one arc, start of the next. Orzammar and Sacred Ashes coming up. Warrior mages are something I came up. We already know there's a special 'subset' of mages called 'Dreamers', so why not more? No, not every mage who becomes a blood mage is one (Merill isn't), but it certainly provides an interesting thing that I've never seen show up in the games. The idea that not all mages can learn magic the same way. Sure, there are the different classes, and DA2 does a thing where some of your companions can't learn any spells from certain trees, but what about something more? Hence 'warrior mages'.
The tattoos comes from Zevran-Alistair banter. No, Nuada isn't the only one getting one. No, I won't tell who else does. His comment of playing in the fields and a Chantry sister making him toys comes from dialogue with a Chantry Lady in Redcliffe during Inquisition (I think Alistair had to remain a Warden to get it, though.)
Next Chapter – Golem with Cleon
