Chapter 4
I hadn't gone to sleep that night. Too many thoughts raced through my head at a speed that normally I couldn't comprehend, but every stray idea met at the center of the problem. The Arishok. As soon as the Viscount's messenger had placed that letter in my hands I knew what had happened. Everything was beginning to tumble down the hill into a landslide that would kill so many innocent people along its way. Purposely, the Arishok had allowed his supplies of supposed gaatlok fall into enemy hand. The explosive the thief thought they stole was actually a combustible material called saar-qamek that if released into the air and ignited produced a very potent nerve gas that induced vomiting, seizures, and eventually led to death. There was no known cure once a person came into prolonged contact with the toxic green cloud.
Running my naked fingers over my tired face, I stared at the dying embers in the fire. Last night I returned home to Hawke Manor with Anders' poultice in my hand and a heavy heart. I placed the item I collected for mother on the desk that nearly bowed underneath the weight of all the letters I ignored. Most of them contained invitations to parties I didn't attend or investment opportunities that I would never read. Playing the part of noble didn't appeal to me whatsoever. I had a chance to rub shoulders with the diamond glazed upper class citizens back in my own time because of my parents and their influence, but I would rather run across rooftops or sail through the skies in my shape-shifting form of a red-tailed hawk. A life of complacency did not suit a wild spirit like my own.
In the privacy of my room I paced relentlessly like a cat that had a knot tied in its tail as I tried to plan my next course of action. In a few hours I would meet with the Arishok who would explain about the missing formula and in Hawke's memories he had spent the next few days hunting down a suspect that turned out to be innocent. The real thief would be busy unknowingly creating a deadly gas which would be released upon hundreds of innocent people who would die before Hawke even arrived on the scene.
The only aid I received from all his memories was where he battled against the thieves and how to seal off the gas. They told me nothing of where the gas was being stored before unleashing it on the public which was what I needed the most. If I could figure out where, then this mass chaos could be prevented.
There, I had the first step in my plan. After I met with the Arishok I would set out alone with Hawke's recall of the events to guide me to the area where the gas was. There were…four barrels of saar-qamek and each was easily about the height of a man which meant they were heavy. They couldn't have been stored far from Hawke's battleground in an alley in Lowtown. Any further and they risked exposure.
I stopped my furious pacing across the room and none too gently collapsed on the bed. With a sigh, I glanced out the window to see the sun starting to rise. Might as well start the long process of putting on my armor that Bodahn had thoughtfully picked up from the Viscount's office. Unfortunately it looked like one hell of a busy day and by busy I meant dangerous so a little extra protection was worth the effort of buckling straps, slipping into metal plates, and finding places on my body to hide daggers.
"Wow, Hawke you look like something the Darkspawn chewed up then spat back out."
I took my hand from my mouth that had been covering a yawn and glared at the smirking crossbowman. "Thank you for that lovely image, Varric."
"Always here to help."
Kicking off the wall I was leaning against I walked over to my companions that just arrived at the docks. I halfheartedly waved a greeting to Fenris who merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment before returning his attention to the horizon line. This time no images of Hawke's romance with him came before my eyes. Thank. God. Now I could actually hold a proper conversation without blushing like an idiot school girl with a crush. He probably thought I had some sort of mental disability.
"Did you not sleep?" He seemed to have asked the ocean.
"No," I answered Fenris's question anyway although he wasn't facing me. "Too many thoughts on my mind." And that was putting it simply. For all those hours I spent staring into the hearth not one idea on how to save my mother seemed plausible or even remotely possible without a SWAT team to back me up. There were too many variables such as where Quentin, the murdering psychotic blood mage/necromancer, was, how many victims he had before finding Leandra, where he was hiding, or even if he was still in Kirkwall. All those questions and not one answer to them.
However, I had no more time to ponder my predicament. With a long stride a, what I assumed, Qunari warrior who served as the gate guard into the Qunari compound came up to the three of us. To describe a Qunari I could use three little words: scary as hell. As well as other variations. How the Christians described the devil fit the Qunari almost perfectly. Perhaps these people are what non-mages saw as demons? Sharp horns extended from the sides of their foreheads and stretched back along their head. Their skin was off-white with blood-red war paint splattered in unknown designs all over their bodies. They hardly wore any armor or even clothes for that matter, but I guess they didn't need cloth or steel to give them protection. Biceps bigger than my head would make any human body-builder envious and they had muscles that looked like they could stop bullets. Small eyes suggested that sight wasn't their dominant sense; they more than made up for that with pointed ears for enhanced hearing and a wide nose for scenting prey. The Qunari were born predators.
It was hard to comprehend that the Qunari or even elves and dwarves actually lived and not just in fairy tales. Thousands of years ago these races all coexisted with humans. What happened in the future for every one of them to become extinct? Could they still exist in my time but were just in hiding?
"The Arishok allows your entrance," the gate guard said in a baritone voice that practically made my bones vibrate.
I nodded to show I understood. He grunted and walked back to his post as I turned to Fenris. "You've brushed up on Qunari culture?" The swordsman raised an eyebrow which was Fenris-speak for 'of course you moron'. "Right. Just checking. You ready, Varric?
"As I'll ever be. Carry on, fearless leader."
I hated it when he called me that because I was anything but. Slivers of ice slid down my spine as I walked into the Qunari compound that had nothing to do with my magic or the temperature of the docks. I spent six months laying out the pieces on my side of the chessboard and now it was finally time for me to make the opening move. With more confidence than I actually felt, I swaggered up the steps and shoved open the gates. All around me were Qunari who could rip me in two with just a single word from the Arishok as I walked through the area the Viscount set aside for them. The Qunari claimed to be waiting for a ship as they had been stranded here in the Free Marches after a horrible storm.
I knew otherwise. There was no ship coming. Now I just needed him to admit it.
Slowly, I came to a stop before the Arishok who sat upon his makeshift throne in a relaxed posture as a king overlooks his subjects. It seemed the Qunari chose their most intimidating warrior to become General for he appeared to be molded for the battlefield. His gaze settled on my form. I tensed and clenched my hands behind my back to stop them from curling into fists. That heavy look was familiar to me. My father stared at me the same way, like I was beneath his notice, a boy pretending to be a man. I heard my companions stop behind me, but the Arishok's attention did not waver from my form. By habit I stood a little straighter and narrowed my eyes up at him. I refused to let him threaten me.
"Serah Hawke," the leader of the Qunari finally spoke after a full five minutes of silence.
"Messere," I responded.
He leaned forward in his upraised chair and settled an arm on one of his thighs. "Last we met, I did not know your name. Did not care to. You have changed your fortune over the years. The Qunari have not," he said without emphasis or care as if he was just stating facts. "I offer you a courtesy, Hawke. Someone has stolen what he thinks is the formula for gaatlok. You will want to hunt him."
"I can hardly believe a thief managed to steal something you guarded so closely. You let them take it."
My bold statement did nothing to change the Arishok's expression. "Correct. It was allowed. The stolen formula was a decoy. Saar-qamek: poison gas, not explosives."
The leather of my gauntlets creaked under the sudden pressure I put them under. Hidden behind my back my fingers pressed hard against each other. "You let a dangerous weapon be set loose on the city?" I calmly asked although I felt the runes of my right hand tingle with my anger.
"Dangerous to humans. Not to us."
"It doesn't excuse your carelessness."
The Arishok finally made a reaction. He leaned even further towards the three of us with a growl. "Tread carefully, human. Do not presume to know the demands of the Qun."
I felt the cold metal of Fenris's clawed hand grip my arm from beside me and I knew he was saying silently that I just entered dangerous territory. However I wouldn't let it go. I tore my arm from the swordsman's hold and took a step forward. Instantly the Qunari soldiers that watched carefully on the sidelines leveled their spears at my figure which made me freeze, but my temper still raged.
"If the Qun requires the sacrifice of hundreds of innocent lives to soothe your damaged pride then I want nothing to do with your religion," I uttered in a low tone.
"Hawke, what are you doing? Being skewered is not on my list of things to do today." Varric whispered urgently. I ignored his question and didn't let my gaze waver from the leader of the Qunari.
"You lure a thief into your compound with intent to trap them, but you let them leave instead. No ship is searching for you. It is you that is searching."
My accusation I expected to be met with the sharp edge of an axe so I shouldn't have been surprised when the Arishok suddenly stood, but I let my hand drift to the pommel of my sword that was strapped across my back. Agitated, he paced back and forth on the dais until he faced me with a considering look. His soldiers removed their spears away from my heart and stood silently once more.
"You are like the rest of these humans in this festering city and yet you are not. You share their lack of any sense but not their ignorance."
"Is that a compliment?" I smirked.
He waved off my sarcastic comment. "It is no insult." The Arishok paused. "Karasten are soldiers. The Qun made it so. They can never vary from that assigned path, never be other than they are meant to be. You, Hawke, would change little if you accepted the Qun."
"I think I made my views quite clear."
The General nodded. "Yes, but it does not matter. We did not come equipped to indoctrinate. We cannot leave until our duty to the Qun is satisfied."
"You led the people to believe otherwise."
"Let them rot," he growled. "Filth stole from us. Not now, not the saar-qamek. Years ago. What you said is true. A single act of greed has bounded us to this pustule of a city and we cannot leave until I alone uncover what was lost under my command." Finally I could feel my hands unclench as the Arishok sat back down. His black eyes focused on me. "You will not have the challenge you seek from me, Hawke. Not yet are you worthy in my eyes. Panahedan. It will be interesting to see if you die."
I gritted my teeth at the obvious dismissal and at his perceptiveness of my intent to goad him into a fight. Nevertheless, I bowed slightly in his direction no matter how irritated I was that my plan, to end the battle before it started, failed. The Arishok had made his move by taking my first pawn. However it was now my turn and I planned on capturing the king. These were only the opening moves in our little chess match.
"Sooo…poking the bear with a stick until it bites your head off? Not one of your brighter ideas, Hawke."
Distracted, I ran my hand back along my black hair as we walked out of the compound. The gate guard grunted at us and closed the gate as soon as stepped through it. I needed to inform the Viscount of the Qunari's intentions while finding a way to keep an eye on his son, Saemus Dumar, as well as Mother Patrice. I hadn't even thought of an idea yet to curb the supposed holy woman's murderous intentions which sparked the war between Kirkwall and the Qunari over Saemus's death. Also on my mind was finding a way to keep mother safe from the White Lily Killer while at the same time searching for the relic that Isabella stole from the Qunari which would go a long way into cooling tempers.
"Yes, I would also like to know why you purposely tried to goad the Arishok."
From the first day…well second or third that I woke up in this time period I planted seeds deep in the information underbelly of Kirkwall. A lot of the coin Hawke received from the treasures discovered in the Deep Roads went into the greedy paws of the Coterie and Athenril's – Hawke's old employer- pockets. Periodically they sent updates through secret letters – the only ones I actually took time to read – about what I asked them to keep their eyes on. So far all I knew was that the necromancer was still in hiding, the Templars were increasing their raids on families rumored to be harboring apostates, and increased open resentment among elves and humans alike towards the Qunari occupation, but I had nothing to go on about my current predicament.
Dammit, I hated walking into a situation blind.
"I think he's ignoring us."
"No, Varric. I was just thinking," I mumbled.
"Did it hurt?"
Finally my eyes came back into focus as I returned from my trip deep into my thoughts. "A bit," I responded to the crossbowman's sarcastic question. "Have you heard anything about a big sell-off? Maybe the thief intends to sell the stuff."
Varric tapped his chin in thought. "Hmmm," he hummed. "Now that I think about it I did hear something like that. I don't really know much about it, though. Haven't kept up on the squirt. We could ask the Coteries."
"Good," I nodded while watching a boy run across the docks. "See if you can get any leads from them. Fenris?"
"Yes?"
"I need you to go see Anders."
I could practically see the elf's upper lip curl into a sneer. "Why?" He snarled.
I rolled my eyes at the obvious disdain the two warriors had for each other. Fenris hated Anders because he was a mage and Anders hated Fenris because the swordsman openly despised mages just for being what they were. It was more annoying than it was funny. "I know you two don't get along, but I want you to find out if he's seen any patients that experience constant vomiting, blurry vision, and/or muscle spasms. I need you to tell Anders those symptoms exactly."
Fenris crossed his arms over his chest. "Again I'm going to have to ask why."
"It's what people usually experience when exposed to a toxin. If some came into contact with the saar-qamek then we can narrow down where the poison is based on where the victims live. So I need you to play nice with Anders."
His green eyes widened at my explanation. "That is…not a bad idea."
With a shrug I said, "I'm smarter than I look. Not a word, Varric," I added when out of the corner of my eye I saw him open his mouth. He closed it with a dry smirk.
"All right, I will do as you say," Fenris reluctantly said. "And you have other plans that prevent you from doing the task yourself?"
I watched the boy who had been running turn in a circle as if searching for something until his sight landed on our little group. With a burst of speed he ran to us with a waving arm.
"Serah Hawke! Serah Hawke I have a message for you!" The boy called and came to a stop before me. "Here you are serah." Reaching into his grubby, threadbare shirt the boy that was practically made of skin and bones pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
"Thank you. Here's a little something for your quick delivery," I told him and traded the message for a silver piece.
"A whole silver!" The messenger marveled over the coin before bowing a few times. "Thank you, serah!" After his gratitude, the young boy ran off as fast as he could.
"That was generous," Fenris noted.
"He needed to eat," I absently said as I unfolded the note to read the short sentences scrawled across it. "I have to go see an elf about a dog so I'll see you two gentlemen later."
Waving my hand behind me to my confused group, I stuffed the paper into a pouch at my waist and exited the docks. Maybe now I wouldn't be walking into a dangerous situation without a blindfold on, I thought as I recalled Athenril's missive.
-H
Two alleys from the alienage with elf you described. Beware dogs with swords.
-A
It turned out that there were a lot of alleyways near the alienage. Tiredly, I put a little 'x' mark on the map I was using to navigate the twisting streets of Lowtown. So far the only thing I'd found were suspicious looks and closed mouths. If anybody knew anything about a group that was a little overzealous in their hate of Qunari, then they weren't going to tell me about it. I was a stranger in their part of Kirkwall never mind the rumors about me helping them before. Elves were not going to trust humans.
I rolled up the map and put it in the pouch with Athenril's message. Perhaps I wouldn't find the specific alley that she mentioned seeing mercenaries on a map. It probably wasn't even drawn in. Guess I would do this the old-fashioned way. So closing my eyes, I spun around once, and walked in the direction I randomly pointed to.
Three hours of mindlessly searching and I got a hint that I found the correct area.
"You're not allowed through here. Move along," the armed mercenary growled at me with his sword to my throat.
I held my hands steady in the air in the surrender position. "I was just passing-," I began but was cut off when he placed more pressure on the sword tip.
"I said move along."
He made it clearer when I felt his blade nick the soft skin of my throat and fresh warm blood spilled onto my collar bone.
"Fine, fine. I see your point," I relented and slowly backed away. The man's sword dropped to his feet but his glare told me to not try anything stupid.
Away from the mercenaries guarding the mouth into the alleyway, I slipped around the corner to the building three doors down from the one I wanted to enter while wiping away the bit of blood on my neck. Before the swordsman had denied me entry I spotted an abandoned…hovel was the word I was looking for with men moving around carrying large barrels. I was pretty sure I was in the correct place. Looking up into the sky I saw that it was almost dusk. Night would fall soon and would provide me plenty of cover.
I made sure I was out of sight before I slumped down with my back against the sandstone and clay building. A couple of hours sleep would do me some good. All day out in the heat of the day along with not sleeping the night before made me feel exhausted and I needed plenty of energy in case something went wrong and I needed to fight my way out. Murphy's Law: anything that can go wrong will go wrong. I lived by it.
However, one thought kept me from drifting off. What was I going to do with the saar-qamek once I found it?
I groaned and smacked the back of my head against the wall. Why hadn't I thought that far ahead?
A cat's demanding yowl awoke me from my sudden slumber. With a start I jerked from the wall and snatched the hilt of my sword on instinct to only sigh in relief that I wasn't being attacked. I let my hand fall to my side and lifted an eyebrow. On my lap, a cat meowed indignantly at being knocked from my chest but as it saw that I was now awake it twined innocently along my thighs purring like a motorboat. I chuckled at its antics.
"Sorry, kitty-cat. I haven't got any scraps for you. I'm more of a dog person anyway so I don't know why you're begging from me. You should go find Anders; I bet he would appreciate having you around. Why am I talking to a cat?"
It didn't seem to care about my preferences or my mental state as it proceeded to purr louder. Giving in, I ran my covered hand over its black arched back and tickled my fingers underneath its white chin. White paws kneaded the leather of my pants in pleasure at my attention. This cat wasn't afraid of humans but it was no house pet. Its body was lean and its black and white fur matted in dust and mud. I picked it up gently to put it down beside me and I noticed its sharp claws were tipped in blood. It also had a small slice of its ear gone. This feline definitely went through many fights.
"You're a little warrior aren't you?"
The cat meowed in agreement or so I imagined.
"As mighty as the Arishok, I bet." Meow. Meow. "Oh really?" Meow! "Then I dub thee Purrishok, Leader of the Catari."
It purred even louder at its new name and rubbed against my arm in satisfaction. Ah, if only the real Arishok was so easy to please. With a final pat on its head I shooed it away while I stood up to stretch out my legs. The night was black as pitch; perfect for sneaking around in.
I peered around the corners of the building to make sure no one was hanging about; I removed both my gauntlets as I squatted down to the dusty street of Lowtown. With a single finger I drew a glyph into the soft earth that I knew by memory. Archaic symbols were enclosed in a nearly perfect circle that, to a mage, listed the glyph's function. I concentrated raw mana into my hand and let my drawn spell drink it in. It glowed a faint green but would fade as soon as the magic I placed into it was used up. No bigger than my palm the Glyph of Propulsion nevertheless packed enough of a punch to launch me into the air in order for me to get access to the roof where I could get into the guarded hovel.
Instead of putting my gauntlets back on, I tucked them into my belt. I had a feeling I would need to use more magic tonight. I mentally checked off all my weapons and took a deep breath. With a small jump, I hopped onto the shining glyph which instantly propelled me high into the air.
"Too high! Too high!" I soared at least a couple of meters above the roof and I braced myself for the hard landing as gravity finally caught up with me.
A little too much magic, I deduced as my legs trembled slightly from the tough impact. It seemed my mana was a bit more potent than I expected from the six month long vacation it's been on. Oh well, at least it worked. A tad better than I thought, but it got me to where I wanted. Now all I had to do was get over to the correct building and climb through a window or something to get inside.
Staying low, I quickly raced across the rooftops and jumped across the tops of alleys. I stopped at the edge of one to peer over the side. Below me a mercenary walked past and knocked on the door of the house they guarded. The door opened a crack and I recognized the female elf that stole the saar-qamek from Hawke's memories. I was definitely in the right place. She admitted the armed man inside after speaking with each other a bit. Hold on a minute, I thought. Just how many were in there? I couldn't possibly sneak in with that many guards running about. I needed a distraction.
I sat down on the roof to peer at my hands for a useful spell that would suit my needs. Fire was always a good choice but flames created by a mage were harder to put out and I didn't want to unnecessarily hurt people or cause excessive damage. That excluded my earthquake spell also. Ice, wind, lightning…none of those would help and my eyes drifted back to the fire manipulation rune that travelled along my index finger which was different from the fireball rune on my palm. Slowly I smiled as an idea formed. My Mastery in Fire was not granted to me by how large a flame I could create but rather how well I controlled it. I possessed a talent that clowns coveted and it was also great for parties. In the air I drew a fiery outline of what I wanted it to look like. Satisfied at the picture, I pushed a large amount of mana into the Manipulation of Fire rune and pointed at the mouth of the alleyway.
I could only imagine what the guards were thinking. At the entrance the mercenaries were standing attentively at, a giant ball of fire emerged. Some drew swords while others shied away from its intense light, but all watched fearfully as something formed from it. Four wicked paws coated in licking flames touched the ground while a blazing tail whipped around it. The face of a lion emerged from the inferno with a wild mane that burned around it. Its fiery teeth snapped at the quivering men and stalked closer; blocking the only exit out of the alley. The creature made no sound except for the crackling of its flames that coated its body. It took another step.
The men finally recovered their voices and they screamed. Braver ones, however, bared their swords in front of them as if to ward the beast off. The lion moved forward. One armed guard swung his weapon at the lion's neck and watched fearfully as the blade whistled through the scorching creature and hit the ground. It took one step closer with nary a scratch. The frantic yelling and cursing attracted attention from inside the house. From within half a dozen men poured out with crossbows bared. The lion stilled. A bolt fired right in front of it that forced it back. With increased courage at the beast's hesitation more pressed the trigger to their crossbows. Finally, it turned tail and began to run.
With amusement, I watched my fire creature I crafted from only my thoughts lead almost every mercenary into the winding streets of Lowtown. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my forehead at the amount of effort it took to hold the shape of a lion as well as make it interact the way a predatory cat would. Master was not a title granted lightly. Hurriedly I dashed onto the roof and looked for a window. Unfortunately denizens of Kirkwall didn't believe in fresh air and I came up empty. I would have to use an alternative method quickly because my fire manipulation possessed only a few more minutes of life before my distraction would dispel to save my mana supply.
Beside the red glowing active rune of my spell I let a separate strain of mana flow into my middle finger where the rune for earth was carved. It pulsed a golden brown as I lightly touched the hardened clay roof and drew it slowly to the right. With more of the consistency of water rather than the solid mud it parted under my will to make a hole big enough to slip through which I did once I saw that no one was below me.
I dropped into a side room of the house that had its door firmly shut. I waved my hand to replace the earth of the roof and deactivated the rune. The room was dark once the moonlight disappeared so I created a small ball of lightning to illuminate my surroundings.
It was empty.
I narrowed my eyes. That couldn't be right.
Holding my hand in front of me for a moment, I concentrated on the lightning. Its white light crackled a bit but obeyed my command to rise in the air and hover while I overturned tables and removed the rugs covering the floor. On my hands and knees I crawled over the floor searching. I smirked as my finger touched a ring of cold metal. My bare hand swept dust off to reveal a hidden trap door. I braced myself on the floor and heaved the heavy wood up. Hiding beneath it was a ladder that descended into darkness.
It only took a thought to send my crackling lightning ball down to the bottom. I followed quickly. Right as my feet hit the floor of the secret room my fire rune dulled until it went out completely. Okay, I only had a few minutes to find the barrels of poison gas, think of a way to get rid of it, and escape before the shack was again filled with guards. Yeah, I could do that no problem.
When I turned around I immediately had a problem. It wasn't a room I dropped into, but a system of tunnels that branched off into four different passageways that continued on for who knew how long underneath Lowtown. So that was how the thieves escaped from the docks with not one person seeing them.
"Shit. Shit. Shit," I cursed repeatedly. There wasn't any time to check them all and I didn't even know if all the saar-qamek was stored together in one place. "Which one?"
My eyes flickered from one passage to the next. No clues pointed to the correct choice and I couldn't afford to pick unwisely. I shifted anxiously. Seconds ticked by as I just stood there. Dammit I had to do something! If only I see through walls!
Wait. Maybe I could.
I dug into my money pouch and pulled out a handful of silver and copper bits. I replaced the silver coins with more copper and put all but two into my left hand. I tossed them into the air to hear the dull clang they made when they crashed into each other. Both landed in my palm on top of the rune meant for the manipulation of wind. A small pinch in my chest told me that I was beginning to strain my magic, but I ignored the warning sign that I was nearing my limit.
The rune radiated a beautiful teal color that complimented the still activated purple lightning rune when I wrapped the two coins in a miniature vortex. Violently the coins slammed together and I silently thanked my tutors for giving me a thorough education. I recalled my lesson on the properties of sound. Sound waves were longitudinal waves produced by variations in air pressure and a vibrating source pushes molecules in air back and forth.
To put it simply I just created my own version of echolocation. All I needed to do was send the swirling coins into each passageway and listen for the correct refracting sound wave that imitated the one of metal hitting wood. So I did. I held my hand straight out to send the colliding copper bits into the rightmost corridor. It hit a dead end. Another miniature tornado in the next hallway didn't reveal anything either. It was only with the third tunnel did I hear the bits strike against wood and not clay walls. Found it. I put the coins I didn't use back into my money pouch.
My makeshift flashlight flew ahead of me as I sprinted down the corridor. A sharp right turn led me into a room with a cache rich enough to make Varric cackle in glee but I only had eyes for the four barrels spread about and not the piles of weapons, armor, and assorted chests. These had to be what I was looking for. I turned one around and my lightning ball moved closer for me to see a strange crest branded into the wood of the barrel. The hell was that supposed to be? It was nothing I nor Hawke's memories recognized. Was this the Qunari seal? I kind of expected a decapitated human head with an axe stuck in it for their crest. I shrugged. Whatever; all I cared about was getting rid of it. Behind me I heard the sharp slam of a door.
"Well, well what sort of rat managed to crawl in here?"
I came to the conclusion that everyone went around actively trying to give me a heart attack. Although I was startled, I whirled around with my sword drawn.
"Is that? Serah Hawke? I know you."
I knew her too. It was the elf that stole from the Qunari my memories told me. She looked like a fragile creature with her light blonde hair, pale skin, and eyes that were a bit too wide for even an elf's. Her delicate appearance did not diminish her skill with the heavy blade she carried or her will to destroy the Qunari people. She looked up and I followed her gaze to the ball of lightning that floated above my head.
"You are a mage?" She gasped in wonder then smirked evilly. "I bet no one knows that." Oops. "And now no one will. You're a much better target than the sector we were going to demolish with the Qunari thunder."
"But you didn't steal the gaatlok. They gave you a decoy. You store saar-qamek in these barrels, a poison gas that will kill many more people than you realize if you open them."
"It doesn't matter," she growled. "I don't care what it is as long as it belongs to the Qunari! They take my people! My siblings forget their culture, then go to the Qun for purpose. We're losing them twice!"
"Your people seek answers. Would you deny them peace?"
"They are elves! They are not beasts!"
Her outrage at losing her brothers and sisters caused her entire body to tremble and made the torch I barely noticed shake in her hands. I felt my shoulders tense. The saar-qamek was harmless now when in powder form but once it touched a heat source it released the deadly gas and she was standing right next to a barrel. An open one. I needed to either kill her quickly or extinguish the fire. I took a step closer.
"Don't! Don't move or, or I'll-!" She lowered the burning torch to the open lid of the barrel next to her.
I froze. "Alright, alright. I understand. You're in charge here." Slowly I sheathed my blade and raised my hands into the air. I felt like I was assuming this position a lot tonight.
"Good. Good, good, good. That's right. I control your fate now, shem."
The word wasn't familiar to me but I doubted it meant that my devilish appearance inspired desire in her.
"Now is there some way we can work this out peacefully? I'm sure there is something I can get for you."
She thought for a moment. "No," she whispered then repeated it louder. "No! I want the Qunari to be hated! I want the people to see them for the beasts they are and kill them as they've killed our people's culture! I just need a body. Yes, yes you're perfect. I'll kill you and when they finally find your body poisoned by the Qunari's weapon they'll go after them! Yes! You have enough importance in the city. I've heard the people talk about you."
"Who's talked about me?" I asked with narrowed eyes.
"Yes it will still work! They are hidden in your city. They will enrage the faithful! They will make sure the Qunari are blamed!"
Everything was spiraling out of my control. Diplomacy had been firmly pushed from this situation and all that remained was violence. I couldn't let her release the gas. My lightning ball that I hadn't allowed to extinguish shot forward just as the nameless elf released the torch. In slow motion I watched the fire ignite the powder and shoot into the air a cloud of green gas that quickly filled the room while the elf dropped to the ground with a charred hole where her heart used to be. I covered my nose and mouth with my left arm as I ran to the shut door. Vainly I pulled on the handle but it refused to open. Damn, it was jammed! I rammed the door a few times before I remembered that I was a mage. I'd just blast the damned thing open!
The door didn't stand a chance when I shot a mound of hard earth straight into it. But I paid for my spell. My heart constricted painfully in my chest. I was almost at my limit. Anymore spell-work could severely injure me, but I couldn't risk the gas escaping into the streets or it seeping into the ground to poison groundwater which wells drew from.
Taking a deep breath I activated my rune of wind while ignoring the vine that seemed to tighten around my heart. Carefully I formed a tornado that swirled the toxic gas into it and I directed it over to the still open barrel. After I was sure all the gas was contained, my rune of earth illuminated once again to form a thick seal of iron I pulled from ore deposits deep within the earth on top.
I let out a big sigh of relief and pulled on my gauntlets that still hung from my belt. I turned to leave to only cough hard enough that I felt like I was going to hack up a lung. I grabbed at my chest as I struggled to breathe and coughed harder. I opened eyes that I hadn't known I closed and saw blood flecks decorate the ground beneath me. My body trembled. My stomach churned. My vision blurred. I must have breathed in some of the gas.
Terrific. Now I would suffer from poison as well as magical exhaustion.
My conscience was clear enough for me to leave through the broken door. Exhausted, I stumbled along the passageway until I made it back to the main room with the ladder. I couldn't risk going that way. I was in no shape to fight mercenaries so I staggered down the last corridor I hadn't sent my coin trick down and hoped that it lead to the Lowtown streets.
I didn't know how long I spent walking but I knew that it took me a lot longer when I stopped periodically to vomit. I wiped my mouth clean as I purged my belly for the fifth time. There was now nothing in my stomach but bile however I still felt nauseous. I grunted when my foot jammed against something. Blearily I peered in front of me to see a ladder that led upwards. My muscles felt like the Jell-O I ate as a kid. Every bone in my body seemed to ache. But I knew that if I wanted to live I had to climb.
The last of my strength I spent scaling the wooden ladder and I hadn't a clue how I managed to lift the heavy steel grate to collapse onto the ground and out of the tunnels. Rolling off of my stomach the first thing I noticed was that the sun was beginning to rise. Just how long did I spend walking through that passage? I could hear a sort of gurgling in my lungs as I struggled for each breath. My eyes began to close. Rest. I just needed to rest for a short while…
A far off voice reached my ears as I began to cross over to the Fade.
"Oh dear it seems someone has fallen down. I do hope it's not another victim of a mugging. Those are so dreadful-Hawke!"
I could faintly feel my shoulder shaking and desperate hands touch my chest.
"Hawke! If you see any paths in the Fade don't take them! Stay put!"
Merrill? Was that her talking to me? I…I don't have to worry about the Fade. I was a mage. I've walked its shaded paths many times before. Was that a raindrop on my cheek?
"Hawke! Hawke, no! Don't go! Help! Help me please get him to Darktown! I've forgotten my ball of twine!"
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by.
Robert Frost's poem echoed as my boots carried me down deeper into the Fade.