Chapter 3: Six of Swords
Magic: noun. Power that influenced the course of events using mysterious forces. Magister: noun, one who practiced magic from a position of political power. Magisterium: noun, ostensibly the gathering place of magisters, but in reality the most boring place in all of Thedas, surrounded by some of the most pompous people Dorian would ever meet. And he was supposed to become one of them someday? It made him want to laugh.
But his father was on the floor, engaged in a long, drawn out argument; he would definitely quiz Dorian about it later, probably over dinner, so Dorian had to pay attention. Discussion centered on the Blight in Ferelden, something he found troublesome even though it was so far in the south. He knew his history and knew why the Magisterium was avoiding the topic in favor of sending yet more troops to battle with the Qunari.
"A Blight does not concern us," Halward was saying. "The Imperium has faced Blights in the past. This is one of the first that is not a threat to us and we should take advantage of the opportunities to strike our enemies on our very doorstep."
It was the same thing as always: The Imperium. Look to Tevinter's needs first and foremost. Maybe Dorian could go to sleep and just regurgitate a few key phrases when asked by his father later on…
"A Blight may strike far away, but its effects may be felt close to home when you least expect it."
This was new. Dorian blinked the boredom from his eyes and sat up. Magister Alexius had risen to challenge Halward's views, and the rest of the Magisterium had erupted into whispers. Alexius had made quite the play, and just maybe things would get interesting. Dorian had heard the murmured gossip, of course. Lady Alexius had been killed in a darkspawn attack returning from Hossburg, and rumors had it that Felix had contracted Blight sickness.
Dorian saw Felix a few seats away in the gallery, watching his father. He didn't look sickly, but then again, all the pictures Dorian had seen of darkspawn were twisted mockeries of humans. Felix glanced over and caught Dorian's eye and rolled his eyes as their fathers tried to outdo one another on the senate floor. He inclined his head toward the door at the back of the gallery and Dorian nodded gratefully.
"They'll go on for hours if nobody steps in," Felix said when they had exited to the veranda. "But they'll probably simmer down soon now that we're gone."
"If they were trying to impress me, wine or a new cloak would have been far more effective," Dorian said with a grin. He leaned on the veranda railing, staring out over the twisting streets of Minrathous. "Do you ever get tired of this, Felix?" he asked. "The etiquette; the foolishness. The pissing contests."
Felix stood next to him, lightly gripping the railing. "Sometimes, yes. But it's more than all that. We're surrounded by people and still alone. Everyone trying to outdo everyone else. Alliances mean next to nothing, if you can break one to enter into a more convenient one when it suits you." He looked over at Dorian, suddenly shy. "I'm sorry. It's just me and my father, and I don't go out much these days. I have time to think about these things."
The door opened behind them, and Dorian turned to see his father and Gereon Alexius coming to join them. "That was quite the debate, Gereon," Halward said with a chuckle. "I'm sure old Magister Philoric is still trying to decode what we were saying."
"Philoric doesn't know a darkspawn from a Qunari," Gereon Alexius said, laughing. He approached his son, his eyes sweeping over him as if doing a quick check for something possibly amiss. "Are you well, Felix? When I saw you'd left the gallery I was worried and we wrapped up our debate." He looked edgy, as if he dreaded whatever Felix's answer was going to be.
Felix shook his head. "It was stuffy inside, so Dorian and I decided to take some air out here." He raised his eyebrows and met his father's eyes. "I'm well, father; there's no need for concern."
Alexius did not seem convinced, but after another moment of staring he nodded and turned to Dorian. On the senate floor, Alexius looked imposing with his piercing eyes and the deep lines carved in his face. Up close he looked careworn and tired, as if he'd been worrying more than he could spare. Just the way he looked at Felix was enough to convince Dorian that the rumors were true. "Young Lord Dorian," he said with a deep nod of acknowledgement. "The news out of Vyrantium has your name all over it these days."
"They exaggerate," Dorian said. "I am grateful for the opportunities the Vyrantium Circle provides me."
Alexius smiled and shook his head. "Your lord father taught you well," he said with a glance at Halward. "Come, Dorian. Let's drop the humble act; there's no need for it between equals."
Dorian's heartbeat picked up. Equals? A full Magister, calling him equal? His first instinct was to be proud—perhaps he'd become the youngest full Magister in the Imperium as well. But the more he took in Alexius's slow smile and calculating gaze, the more he reined in his enthusiasm. "You do me great honor, Magister," he said with a slight bow. "I am always in the service of my lord father and the Imperium."
The four men left the Magisterium and settled in at a small café for lunch, which Dorian knew by now was code for negotiation; and he was the commodity. It was flattering, but also unsettling the way they could discuss him in his presence as if he weren't there; and even more disconcerting, it was improper for him to say anything of the way he felt about any of this. He was forced to sit there in the shade and choke down his food as Halward and Alexius brokered Dorian's future away from Vyrantium.
"It's a sabbatical away from that hole," Alexius said, waving his hand. "Halward, you of all people should know they're using him. He's brilliant. Let him out to experience the world. Let him study with the Magisters."
"He can't become Archon if he's a Magister," Halward said evenly.
Magister. Archon. Dorian's head reeled from the heat of the sun and the heat of the conversation.
"He won't become a Magister," Alexius reassured him. "While the Magisterium would certainly benefit, the Imperium as a whole just can't be deprived of this talent."
And so the conversation went on, and Dorian just tuned it out. Anything else Alexius had to say was simply for the benefit of stroking Halward's ego until he agreed to whatever Alexius asked. Dorian saw Felix out of the corner of his eye, pushing his food around on his plate and looking disinterested. But he looked up and caught Dorian's eye and tried to smile.
Dorian returned the smile. It was looking more and more likely that he would be leaving Vyrantium. At this point, the Vyrantium mages were learning more from him than he from them. A change could be good. Besides, he could think of worse things than having to spend more time with Felix Alexius.
"Alexius is… experimenting, for lack of a better word," Halward explained as they traveled from Minrathous to Vyrantium the next morning. "As you of all people are well aware, there is much in this world that magic can control, but much that is controlled by magic. When we can use magic to control magic: that is when we see the true glory of Tevinter."
"Yes, because the rest of the world so approves of slave sacrifices to fuel blood magic rituals," Dorian said wryly. The Pavus family did not indulge in blood magic, though it was well known that most in the Magisterium did. It was one of the worst kept secrets in Tevinter, and no one seemed to care.
Halward sighed. "You'll take care not to have such a sharp tongue with Magister Alexius, I hope."
"So it's finalized. Thank you for asking about my opinion on the matter," Dorian said, staring out the window of the carriage.
"I can't imagine why you'd even need to think about it, Dorian," Halward said, sounding genuinely bewildered. "Hundreds of boys and girls your age are clamoring over one another to be considered for mentorships, and Gereon Alexius sought you out. You're the most envied young man in the Imperium, I'd wager."
"How wonderful to be me," Dorian said with a sigh, resting his head on his hand and preparing for another lecture about his attitude. It never came, and at last he looked up to see Halward staring at him with a pensive expression. "What? Does blue wash me out?" he asked, glancing down at his robes.
"If you're going to be mentored by a Magister, you will need to change your habits," Halward said. An icy feeling flowed down Dorian's spine. "I know about your servant, and I've seen the way you look at other men."
Dorian leaned back in his seat casually and yawned. "Did some Magister's jealous daughter fill your mind with that?" he asked, keeping his tone light, and wishing that Tevinter had adopted the Orlesian practice of wearing masks.
"You are our legacy," Halward said. His eyes never left Dorian, and the worst part was he didn't seem angry; he was more… sad than anything. "The continuation of the Pavus line rests with you."
"I hadn't realized," Dorian said, hoping against hope that he could keep from being sick on the floor of the carriage. Phenomenal power and all the privilege in the world: and he was still trapped. "You only drive it into my skull every other time we speak."
"Because you don't take it seriously enough!" Halward's calm mask cracked and the way he leaned forward made Dorian flinch back, afraid his father was going to slap him. "House Pavus is one of the oldest of the Altus houses, and it must not fall. You will marry, Dorian. You will serve the Imperium in a manner befitting your breeding and talent." Dorian stared out the window at the passing countryside. They were on the long road between Vyrantium and Minrathous, and the clouds were gathering on the horizon. "Dorian," Halward said more gently. "This is what's best."
"For whom?" Dorian asked quietly, but his father did not answer.
By the time they arrived back in Vyrantium it was dark and the clouds had opened up. Sheets of rain sluiced down from the heavens and Dorian did not bother to conjure a shield to keep himself dry. He would not even bid his father farewell, no matter how sorrowful Halward's face looked; Dorian's only thought was to go to his rooms and make some tea, and and curl up in front of a fire.
His father did not follow him in; the coach left in the rain, bound for Qarinus. Dorian stormed down the halls toward his rooms, caring little that it was late and many would be sleeping. He flung open his door and shot an angry gout of flame from his palm at the fireplace, but it remained darkened. Dorian blinked, caught off guard. He'd learned elemental magic before the age of ten, and starting a fire was as easy as blinking; so why didn't his perfectly good fire light in a perfectly good fireplace?
Dorian cast a magelight spell, holding the insubstantial globe out in front of him as he turned slowly to survey his quarters.
Empty.
His bed had been stripped of linens, the fireplace was devoid of logs, and his trunks had been packed and removed. It was as if he'd never existed here in Vyrantium. He trembled as he checked the small antechamber that served as Lepidus's bedroom. Also empty, the bed stripped and cold.
Dorian shivered in his soaked clothing as he let his magelight flicker and die. He curled up on the bare mattress. He may as well have just stayed in Minrathous. But his father would have known that. In making him come back here, to see his life in this Circle erased, Halward was telling Dorian that the choice to study under Alexius had already been made, and Dorian had no choice but to obey.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and the reviews, favorites, and follows. I appreciate the support so much. Thank you to Anonymous, TCD110, theycallmepeter, mille libri, Melysande, Apollo Wings, Karebear, and the followers/favorites. I am pleased you are enjoying the story, as I am loving writing it so very much!