Mahvir watched the two until they vanished from his sight. A soft tap of talons on wood warned him moments before the sound became reality. Sure enough, when he looked up, Deceit had returned to her perch.
"There was nothing around," she informed him, icy eyes locked on him.
"I know," Mahvir stated. "Follow them, Deceit."
The raven bowed her head before taking off after the two elves.
"You're letting them go with only Deceit to watch them?" Fear snapped his beak. "Your heart is uneasy with fear for their future. More fear for the two of them than for the rest of the People. It's like with her."
Mahvir shot the raven a sharp look. "She died a long time ago." He started off towards the city, his pace slow and staff pressing into the ground with each step he took. His bare feet soon touched the smooth roads of Val Royeaux. The sun was setting in the distance by the time he entered the city proper, unnoticed by the guards and most of the citizens, a trick he had become quite good at over his long life.
"They're fear is tainted, silly, petty matters," Fear's voice clicked as whispers in Mahvir's ear.
The raven sounded disgusted, but he knew all too well these fears Fear adored the most. He loved to play off them and to see the disrot in the eyes of nobles.
"Why are we really here?" Fear asked at length as the city fell to sleep around them. "For his love or for your own curiosity?"
Mahvir didn't reply.
Fear clicked his beak and shifted his wings in annoyance. "The answer will be clear to me in time. You can't run from me or from the truth."
Mahvir stopped before a statue of Andraste and knelt down near to it, hidden in the shadows. "Perhaps," he whispered to the raven. "And perhaps not. You can only see the fears I let you, Pet."
Fear's talons pinched the thick layers of cloth on Mahvir's shoulder. His head tossed to one side to show his rage at the title. "If I wasn't bound to you," the raven started to threaten.
"You would be dead," Mahvir stated as he pulled out a loaf of bread he had managed to steal on the way here. He tore into it, passing Fear pieces as he ate for the raven too eat.
The night was cool, almost silent. A few stragglers were seen hurrying home or being carried through the city in extravagant carriages. Mahvir watched and waited. His contact from the Inquisition would meet him here in the morning. He saw no need to move from this spot.
Fear pulled at his hood. "More."
Mahvir sighed and passed the raven the remains of the pathetic meal. "You should've been called 'Greed' not 'Fear,'" he teased the raven.
Fear snapped his beak and settled deeper down onto Mahvir's shoulder for the night.
Soon the night would give way to day. And he would see the Inquisitor again, instead of as a stranger, as an informate. He sighed. "Why do you seek the past and never the future?" he whispered the question in elven.
The first moments of heat returning to the world marked the start of a new day.
"Sir."
Mahvir stood. A human was standing before him. "Morning, my lady." He bowed his head to her. She wore the clothes of an agent of the Inquisition. "You wouldn't happen to be Rhian, would you?" he knew the answer before he asked it. After all he had known the girl for most of her life.
"Aye, and we both know who you are," she replied. She had dark caramel skin, and the little of her hair that could be seen under her hood was black and spiraled. She had a scar that ran across her nose, just under her hazel eyes. Nobody would have suspected her as an elf-blooded human, even with her high cheekbones and eyes that were rounder than most humans. This made her perfect as Mahvir's spy. "Safe journey, my lord?"
"Safe enough," he replied.
"What do you need?"
"A meeting with the Divine's Inquisition," Mahvir told her. "I believe it's time those groups conspiring against the end of world pull information, do you not?"
"Agreed," Rhian replied, smirking. "So, what shall I tell the Inquisitor? I doubt you want me using your real name."
"Tell her Mahvir has information she will find useful."
"And where should she meet him?"
"The upper market," Mahvir said without hesitation. "It is a safe enough place she won't feel this could be a trap and private enough we can discuss what needs to be discussed without prying ears."
"Very well." Rhian put her fist to her chest and bowed. "It shall be done, my lord."
"Ma serannas, da'len." Mahvir bowed his head to her. He watched her go before he turned to the statue of Andraste. Without a word he laid a single red rose by the foot of the statue before he headed for the upper market. His progress was slow as he moved through the crowd, keeping to the edges to remain unnoticed by the nobles. Only those elven servants who knew who he was noticed his passing.
Mahvir stopped in the upper market, leaning against his staff. His breathing uneven and chest tight. It took him several long moments to regain his breath.
Fear shifted on his shoulder but was otherwise quiet, for once.
Soon Mahvir could see a familiar elf making her way towards him. She was no longer dressed in the simple dress he saw her in the other day. She wore a coat of dark blue, august ram leather with an undershirt made of silk brocade. The sleeve on her left arm had been hemmed, stopping below her stump.
"I didn't think I would be seeing you again so soon," Nimwen said, half amused, half suspicious. "Given what my agent told me, you have information I would be interested in?"
"It was for the best not to sour such a beautiful day as yesterday with dark news. Especially before a child," Mahvir said in way for greeting to her. "Forgive my not being forthcoming." He bowed.
Fear screeched his rage at the movement, flapping his wings.
"There's that aggression you mentioned," Nimwen said, eyeing the bird. "So running into you the other day, not so much of a happy coincidence?"
"It depends on if you believe in coincidences or not," he replied. "In my experience most events happen for a reason. The reason is sometimes unclear, but there is a reason."
"Some, perhaps, but I believe in coincidences. I have to. Otherwise I would have to admit that the universe must really hate me."
"I doubt the universe hates anyone." Mahvir smiled as he lowered the cloth covering his face.
Nimwen raised a brow, making her blue vallaslin wrinkle. "Not Dalish after all," she said.
"I am no less of the People simply because I refuse to mark my face," Mahvir replied. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of the pain he would go through having the tattoos placed on his face.
"Somebody's jumping to conclusions," Nimwen said. "I never claimed I believed you any less of the People, I've just found elves who are learned in our history outside of the Dalish are small in number. As for marking our faces, I assure you I would rid myself of these marks if I could. However the one person I know who could do it is not here at the moment. So, back to business, what do you have for me?"
"Information on the one person you spoke of." Mahvir gave her as gentle a smile as he could. His heart twisted a little. He wished he had Solas's magical ability so he could rid the marks of slavery from the People. But his abilities in such matters were so weak it wouldn't have even faded the marks. Outside of wielding a staff and few tricks, he was far from a mage.
Nimwen's eyes narrowed, their icy color sharp. "What do you know of him?" she asked, voice low.
"Quite a bit, but most of it has little do with why I came." Mahvir knew she had been hurt too much by Solas for this to be easy, but he wasn't going to lie to her face either. Nor was he going to bluntly state everything. It was a delicate situation and he could easily be casted as the enemy instead of an ally. "Many of the People wish to rise back to power, but others disagree with Solas's methods. Those who do, came to me with information. I, alone, can do nothing to stop him and, thus, upon learning of his ties with the Inquisition, I came here in hopes we could pull our knowledge and stop him before it's too late for everyone."
"And why did the People go to you with this information?" Nimwen asked. "Who are you to them?"
"A beacon when times were at the darkest for our People. But, I fear, my light has long since faded from memory into legend."
"That doesn't quite answer my question," Nimwen retorted. "Tell me who you are and what is your connection to Solas?"
Mahvir sighed. There was no getting around it. "Tell me what do you know of how our People won the Dales one thousand years ago? I hear the chant has recently reinstalled those pieces to it."
"The shem prophet Andraste had an elven ally, Shartan," Nimwen said. "When they were both burned, her sons granted the People the Dales, that is until they took it back centuries later."
"Every age has a Shartan. One of the People who shows the rest there is a hope for the future. I am the one who they came to and it is the reason I took the name Mahvir." It was part of the truth. Mahvir didn't want to explain how it was he had lived for a thousand years, not until she wouldn't stab him for it. "I live for the future of our People."
"So, what can you tell me to help them?" Nimwen asked.
"Solas's movements," Mahvir informed her, face straight. "Where he is going, his plans, and more."
Nimwen went to cross her arms, but her eyes widened when her stump slipped. "Fenhedis,"she cursed under her breath. She shook her head. "Nevermind, what can you tell me. Where is he, what is he planning?"
"You know he plans to bring back Elvhenan and, in doing so, it will destroy this world, along with the majority of the people, including his own followers. Currently, my informants tell me he spends much of his time within the crossroads. We have a few years before he can figure out a way to physically enter the Fade, but that is little time for us and for all the peoples of Thedas."
"How do you think he plans to do it, make another Anchor?" Nimwen asked.
"He took pieces of the Anchor you held, but another full Anchor will take him those years to craft and a far greater amount of magic than what he currently holds. He has agents searching through some of the ruins you two discovered for any information on the location of other elvhen artifacts which hold pieces of a key to another full Anchor."
"It will take much power to match that of the foci. A new Anchor will cost him much. An arm or a leg perhaps," Nimwen said with a bitter chuckle. "I am not in a position to go digging through ruins, but I may be able to find people willing to go. Give me a location and I shall send them on their way."
Mahvir frowned. He was certain Solas would have told his love he wouldn't be affected by the Anchor. Instead of pointing this out, he held up his hand. "My information comes with a price. I wish to join your group. Together we can move faster than alone. My informants added to your forces under the Divine."
"I suppose I am in no position to refuse your help, even if that's what I wanted." Nimwen extended her hand. "No matter who we serve, the Inquisition welcomes any help it gets."
"My thanks." Mahvir took her hand. "Perhaps together we can show an ancient elf our world is worth saving and fighting for."
For the first time since she arrived, a small smile appeared on Nimwen's face. "Perhaps we can," she agreed.
FW: Mahvir is an interesting character. While he seems blunt, I promise, he keeps a lot more hidden of himself than he shows. It's been fun writing him and getting to know his character. I really hope you guys like him. By the way, if you are reading my fan-fiction Final Hour, this Mahvir is in that story as well, but he isn't going by the name Mahvir. Keep reading to learn more.
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