***** Posting earlier today to make up for the late post last week :D
Ok guys. This is your official warning. In this chapter I finally give you all my own lore. My own ideas of the story. I, like Astlyr, rip open the veil, but in my case it's the lore instead of the Fade. Will you like what comes out? Who knows. This chapter is one of the main reasons I wrote this fanfiction/book at all. It only took us half a year to get here.
I hope you all enjoy it! *crosses fingers* *****
Part 34
Of Gods
"Who are they?" she turned insistently to the rabbit, who looked up at her as though regretting its decision to come when she 'called'. It hesitated in its hopping around her and tilted its head, as though thinking. "There are memories of names flowing through the area," it finally reported. It squinted at the men and women in the room, "The one with black hair and seated in the chair...Mythal. Dirthamen and Falon'Din, the two with faces the color of good earth. The huntress is named Andruil, I think, which must mean the one beside the fire is Sylaise."
"What about muscles?"
"June or Fen'Harel," the rabbit wrinkled his nose, which was actually quite adorable.
"Must be June because I know that one-" she gestured towards the slim, red haired man, "is Fen'Harel."
"See, you know about these things," the spirit encouraged cheerily, returning to hopping around her, weaving the shadows over her like a cloak. She tried to ignore its constant motion as she watched the elves. She glanced at her Fen'Harel and Dirthamen, standing to the side. Her version of Fen looked tense, decidedly uneasy.
"Do you remember this day?" Dirthamen asked Fen.
Fen's brows knit with concentration, "someone has...someone has died?"
"Yes," Dirthamen said, giving his friend a sad smile. "Her name was Sulis. She died and-"
"And so did Fairness," Fen'Harel tilted his head like an animal trying to understand. "Who was Fairness?"
"Sulis' Spirit Companion. You don't remember?"
"How...how did they die?"
"In an experiment."
Another person had entered the Fade room. This new man cut quite a figure. Upright, proud and lethal looking. He wore elegant battle garb. Twin, curved daggers hung at his shoulder blades, and he carried a mage's staff loosely in his hand. His hair was brown and immaculately trimmed. This man would give Dorian a run for his money in the personal grooming department. Like all the others he bore a pair of pointed, elvish ears. He hesitated in the doorway, taking in the sad, dejected faces waiting for him. He clucked his tongue, "What is this? Look at you all? Giving up after one setback?"
"Sulis and Fairness are not a 'setback'" snapped Sylaise, rising from her place beside the fire. Her eyes glinted dangerously. "It could have just as easily been any of us and our Companions."
"Sulis knew the risks and she volunteered," the newcomer spoke in a voice that was soothing with just the barest hint of a patronizing tone. His smile teetered dangerously close to a sneer, but stopped short. "Come now. Tell me we're not giving up?"
"We're not all going to die two by two until we figure this out," June stated, folding powerful arms.
Mythal reached up and placed a gentle hand on the newcomer's arm, "the magic was just too wild, love. Even our staves could not focus it. No amount of trying is going to remove that danger from the equation."
"Her love?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow. This seemed to imply that the elegant man was Elgar-nan himself.
"Would you hush?!" Subtlety scolded, waggling long ears in annoyance.
Astlyr gave the rabbit spirit an apologetic smile and turned back to the scene at hand.
"So what do you suggest?" Elgar-nan looked to the group expectantly, his dark eyes scrutinizing. No one answered him. "Come now! I gathered you all because I knew you to be intelligent, undauntable. You are the best, and I expected more."
"Did you expect us to give our lives?" asked Sylaise shrewdly. "What about our Companions? Is it alright to sacrifice them for your cause?"
"Our cause," Elgar'nan corrected her firmly. "Or is it so easy to make you change your mind? You wanted this as much as I did. You all want it. To walk in the Fade without fear? To manipulate it the way the spirits do? To enter the Fade even when the veil is not thin or torn? You all wanted this!"
"We still do, father," the young huntress stood, adjusting the bow across her shoulders. "They're upset right now. Give them time. They all need time to think, at the very least. I'm going to meet with Vigilance. She may be able to help me sort through all my thoughts and come up with an idea." The woman moved towards the door of the cozy room. Astlyr realized that they must, in fact, be inside a cabin. A well made, lavish cabin to be sure, but when Andruil opened the door it led to a porch, and beyond that, woodlands.
Andruil gave the group a quick smile and bow of her head before departing. "May we all go?" asked Fen'Harel, fixing shrewd, intelligent eyes on the would-be god-king. "Or is that only a courtesy afforded to your offspring."
"Curb your tongue, Wolf," Elgar'nan said, his lip twisted in obvious disdain. A few of the other 'gods' glanced at Fen'Harel but guarded their feelings with their school expressions. None the less it seemed obvious to Astlyr that Fen'Harel was the favorite of few in the room.
"Wolf?" Fen'Harel smirked, "You haven't called me that in a good while. I thought we were past insulting nicknames," he looked ready to unleash his own volley of cruel designations for the man, but Dirthamen interceded.
"Fen'Harel and I will go as well. You know how he gets when he's cooped up. He thinks better on his feet." Dirthamen gave Fen'Harel a warning glare, ushering him from the chair arm with as much grace as he could manage, "come friend," he said tightly, "Let's go think outside."
Fen'Harel allowed himself to be led out of the cabin, but shot a cheeky smile at the rest of the gathering before a door separated them. Astlyr felt a lurch as she was drawn from the cabin with the two elves without having to move her feet. She wondered if the Dirthamen from her time was controlling the memory, or if followed him automatically. She glanced towards the two men on her side of the past, standing out starkly against the green-tinted memory display. As though they were somehow nearer to her than the trees around her. She watched Fen. His face was impassive, and angled away from her slightly. She wasn't able to tell what he was thinking, but he did seem to be focusing a great deal on the actions of his former self and the past version of Dirthamen.
Astlyr marveled at the landscape around her. Huge ferns, vines the size of her arm, great trees taller than any she had ever seen. They all seemed to keep back, away from the clearing where the cabin stood, as if by conscious choice. Astlyr wondered if these ancient mages could communicate with the plants. Ask them not to overrun their living space. Distantly, and garbled by the Fade, unseen birds called out amongst the twining branches.
"Alright, alright, you can let go of me. I'm not going to set fire to the cabin," past Fen'Harel was saying as he jerked his arm free of Dirthamen's grip. Both elves stepped gingerly down from the porch. Astlyr was not surprised to see that there was no sign of Andruil. The huntress had moved with such confidence and grace, even inside the cabin, that Astlyr was certain she was long vanished into the deep and fathomless forest.
"Walk with me," past Dirthamen urged, gesturing towards a path through the trees and mammoth undergrowth that Astlyr had not seen moments before.
The two men began to stroll and Astlyr was once again drawn with them as though she and her fellow Fade walkers were pulled by an invisible thread. She felt like one of those pull-along toy ducks she'd seen children playing with.
For a long moment neither man spoke. Fen'Harel walked with his arms folded, obviously still upset. His companion strode with an open, companionable posture, clearly pretending to be oblivious to his fellow mage's bad mood. "You can talk to me, you know," Dirthamen said, after a time. "I'm good at keeping secrets."
"You always have been," Fen'Harel conceded. "My mind is too busy at the moment. I need to pare it down. Parse out what my thoughts are and where they live."
"Are you thinking you want out? You were always the most dubious of the plan, though I know it intrigues you. Gets your curiosity going."
"That, and he likes to think he's smart. Smarter than all the others, even," a youthful female voice came from a nearby tree. Suddenly, with a puff of greenish smoke, what looked to be a girl in her late teens was striding beside Fen'Harel. She moved with an odd gate, half skipping half walking, and her face was the picture of mischief as she stuck her impish nose right up to Fen'Harels, "don't you?"
"Free Will, what have I told you again and again? I do not believe I am the smartest one here. I know I am," Fen'Harel smirked, taking a swiping reach towards the girl. She ducked his hand easily, grinning. Her eyes were reddish in hue, and her hair was cut short and colored a startling sky blue.
"Well if you're such a smarty, why can't you puzzle this out, eh?" the girl asked.
"Free Will?" Astlyr glanced down at Subtlety. The words had been used like an address. A name. "A spirit?"
"Of course," the rabbit said, pausing in its hopping to glance at the girl and the two men in the memory as though noticing them for the first time.
"Is she his Spirit Companion? She looks like she has a very solid form, but I thought his Companion was Wisdom. Are they in the Fade in this memory?" she questioned, watching the girl move around Fen'Harel with a distinct grace and ease, even with all her skipping and bouncing about. The Fade within the Fade? The notion made her head hurt.
"They're in the woods," Subtlety shrugged rabbit shoulders.
"It's...her," Astlyr's version of Fen'Harel was speaking now. He had moved closer to the memory people and was reaching out his hand. "It's her! I...I remember her! She's...she was..."
"She IS," Dirthamen corrected, following Fen towards the images. The spider spirit seemed to have slowed the memory almost to a stop so that Fen could have a moment to look at the girl with wide, excited eyes.
"I never thought I'd see her again."
"You don't need to," Dirthamen sounded confused. "Here," he drew Fen back from the figures and gave the spider a nod to start the memory moving again, "watch and remember, old friend."
Past Fen'Harel was giving this spirit girl, 'Free Will' an exasperated look, "I've been trying to solve it. What do you think I've been doing?"
"Then why aren't you what you want to be? Why aren't we?" Free Will asked, wrinkling her small, upturned nose.
"I merely have not solved it yet," he took another playful swing at her and she transformed into a wolf, easily avoiding his blow and wagging her tail. Her wolf form was grey, and its eyes were the same deadly red, though now they gleamed with mirth. "And you mock me as well?" Fen'Harel threw up his hands, looking to Dirthamen, "do you see what I am forced to deal with?"
The travelers finally came out of the thick forest path into a clearing. Once again all the foliage held back from the area as though too polite to intrude. Branches were turned away at odd angles and the grass was much shorter in the space. Several stones stood upright around a circle drawn in the grass with something white. Chalk perhaps. A summoning circle? Astlyr raised an eyebrow. Free Will broke off from the two men and bounded up to one of the stones. She transformed into a girl again and touched one with her hand. Instantly it lit up with a thousand intricate glyphs and symbols. She ran her slender fingertips over them and they brightened at her touch. If this girl was indeed a spirit, shouldn't she be afraid of this circle? Instead it seemed to calm her.
Another figure lurched up to join the group then. Dirthamen turned to greet the enormous grizzly that bounded up to him and almost butted him over in its eagerness to greet him. "Whoa! Steady now!" Dirthamen dug his fingers into the bear's thick coat and scratched vigorously.
Free Will made a disgusted sound as only a teenage girl could, with an expression of deep disinterest, "Loyalty is here too? Tch."
"Of course she's here," Dirthamen said. The bear 'Loyalty' rolled over for a belly rub. "She's my companion, and always will be."
"That's a spirit too?" Astlyr asked, pointing to the gigantic carnivore whose tongue was lolling with pleasure.
"Aren't you supposed to know about spirits?" Subtlety questioned skeptically, motioning towards Astlyr's marked hand with its head.
"As far as I know this thing only gives me some power over the Fade, most of which I haven't figured out yet. It certainly did not imbue me with a set of directions," Astlyr explained, looking at her hand. The anchor was dormant, once again resembling a poorly done tattoo. The thin outline of a rift.
The rabbit made an incredulous noise as though it suspected she was lying, and carried on with its concealing work. Astlyr turned her attention to the scene once more. Fen'Harel had seated himself with his back against one of the stones. The runes did not spring to bright life when he touched it. Free Will became a wolf again, and as much as she seemingly disdained the bear, Loyalty, she charged her and soon the pair of them were rolling around in a play wrestling match.
Dirthamen strolled over to join his fellow elf, and the two sat for a long moment, seemingly lost in their own thoughts as the spirits played. Finally, resting his hands in his lap in a meditative posture, Dirthamen asked, "How does Free Will feel about all this?"
"You know how she is, she is never afraid. Death doesn't intimidate her. Nothing does," Fen'Harel struggled.
"I mean about the bonding. What we hopes to achieve."
"I like it," Free Will called, obviously eavesdropping even as she wrestled. "If we could become more than Companions...if we could be one being, think how much more we could do! What we could explore! He could come with me into the Fade and we'd have all sorts of adventures," Free Will placed a hindpaw against Loyalty's jaw as the bear tried to wrap massive limbs around her smaller frame. She shot from the bear's grip like a cork from a bottle, then danced nimbly out of reach.
"Adventures in the Fade. That sounds dangerous," smiled Dirthamen.
"As I said-" Fen'Harel absentmindedly plucked a small flower from the grass beside him. He waved his hand lazily over the plant and it seemed to spring to life at the touch of his magic. New roots grew from the stem and coiled around Fen'Harel's arm and the leaves grew wide and healthy looking. "Free Will does not know fear."
"What about the possibility you will be able to control her?"
"He'll never control me," the wolf scoffed as she darted in to bite the bear's thick neck fur. "Besides. The plan is that we'll be one being. If we're one, then I can control him just as well."
Dirthamen chuckled. "I like your goals, Free Will. My brother seems to believe it will give him a better understanding of the dead. He hopes that, once the ritual is a success, he will be able to ascertain where souls go after the body is slain."
"And you wish to know more secrets," Fen'Harel nudged Dirthamen's shoulder with his own. "A true connection to the Fade could aid you greatly in this."
"We all have our dreams," Dirthamen agreed. With a loud 'caw' a crow came appeared from the sky and landed on the stone above the two men. It shuffled back and forth, ruffling feathers back into place from its flight. Astlyr wondered aloud if this bird was a spirit as well. Subtlety cocked an eye at her, "Of course not. That's just a crow."
"Oh," Astlyr said, feeling stupid and not really knowing why. How was she supposed to tell what was what in this absurd memory?
The crow squawked and flapped down to the grass, blinking yellow eyes at Dirthamen. It gently set something on the ground beside him, then looked about itself again, taking in the wrestling wolf and bear with obvious disdain. "Well then, Fear, what have you brought me this time?' Dirthamen asked of the bird, picking up the offering. "Fear and his brother are always bringing me little gifts of shiny objects they find," Dirthamen explained, holding up the item for Fen'Harel to see.
"That's because they believe you to be their mother," Fen'Harel pointed out, taking the item and turning it over in his hand. He sat forward slightly, examining the gift more closely. "There is residual Fade magic on this. He must have found it somewhere where the veil was very thin."
Dirthamen sighed, stroking the bird's back absently. "I wish they wouldn't do that, but I think all the best shiny objects are found in such places. The fade magic makes them even more enticing to these greedy beaks," he scratched the bird under its chin with a finger. "In the desert there are many places where the veil is so thin that you can reach right through and shake hands with a spirit. I worry one day one of my birds is going to find his way in there and then they'll be in real trouble. Nothing but beak and talons for protection."
Fen'Harel only seemed to be half listening to the other man. He was still scrutinizing the object, his blue eyes suddenly lit up like the runes when Free Will had touched them. The scene paused again and Astlyr's attention was drawn back to the two men from her own world.
Her Fen was clearly in more distress now. His face was drawn and tight, his brows furrowed low, his mouth a hard line. Dirthamen was watching him with a concerned, yet eager expression. "Are you remembering? Do you recall this moment?"
"It...it is like looking through a depth of water," Fen said, so quietly Astlyr almost didn't hear.
"Do you remember what we were trying to do? To achieve?"
"Alger'nan..." Fen brought a hand to his temple, obviously struggling, "he was the one to desire it first. A deeper connection with the Fade? More ability and control. Wasn't it?"
"Right," Dirthamen confirmed. "A way to allow us to enter the Fade, even where the veil was not thin, and to keep us safe while we were there, mentally and physically."
"He wished to travel the Fade physically," Fen'Harel clarified, still tense. "He wanted to be a denizen of both worlds, as his Spirit Companion was. He sought us out, we who were also intrigued by the idea. Those who longed for a deeper Fade connection...who wished to be closer to our Companions than was ever conceived."
"And we tried it. We attempted many things. The latest-"
"Killed our friends. Killed one of us and her Companion."
"Yes," said Dirthamen glumly. "Sulis."
"But we were close," Fen seemed to have a jolt of recollection then, leaning forward with excitement. "We knew what we needed to do. We perfected the magics, we formed the circle, and yet...the magic was too wild. Too strong, even for us. So much Fade magic all at once."
"Now do you remember when we are? What you are about to discover?" Dirthamen smiled.
"Yes! I think so! The pieces are falling back into place in my thoughts!" Fen cheered, gesturing for the spider spirit to start the memory once more. His expression had lost much of its tension and he no longer massaged his temple.
The memory of Fen'Harel was caressing the object the crow had brought with his thumb, gazing at it as though it were a precious jewel. From what Astlyr could see it looked like a little scrap of metal. "Yes. Fade magic clinging to the object... Dirthamen...I think I know what we require!"
"What's that?" past Dirthamen asked, eyes widening. The two Spirit Companions had stopped their play and teleported over to see what was being discussed.
The bear, Loyalty, pushed her thick muzzle in to sniff the object in Fen'Harel's hand. She sneezed, "Fade magic," she grumbled.
"Yes! Fade magic! Over time it begins to stick. To sink in to certain objects of this world. As the veil grows thin, where emotion is strong; a battlefield where the cries of the dying echo from one world to the next. Some have said that even the earth can become saturated with it, so no crops will grow."
"What are you suggesting?" Dirthamen cocked a brow, "our staves can so the same thing. Collect and channel spells."
"Not spells," Fen'Harel held up the scrap, "wild magic. Fade magic, untamed and unchecked, directly from the Fade. What we've been dealing with! Something as simple as this little magic-drenched pip could hold and channel raw Fade magic for us?"
"This thing?" Dirthamen took the bit of metal back, scrutinizing it. He raised a hand, examining it with his own gift.
"And those of us who have no magic, but a strong bond with their Companions...this would be be like having a staff of their own!" Fen'Harel pressed on, his eyes wide with excitement. Free Will changed shape from a cat, to a wolf, to a dragonfly as she seemed to feed off of his eagerness. "A way to channel the magic without us having to do it for them! Haha!" he leaped up, grasping the hands of Free Will who had just changed back into a girl. The pair of them jigged around the clearing.
"I do not know," Dirthamen said, watching their elated display with amusement on his dark features.
"We should at least bring the idea to the others," Loyalty said in a low, slow voice of one who ponders much and says little.
"Yes," Fen'Harel agreed, gesturing grandly, "and then HE can claim the credit for it, of course."
"I'll know it was you," Dirthamen pointed out. "I'll remind the others."
"At this point I hardly care," Fen'Harel said. He grasped Free Will at her waist and lifted her over his head for a moment. She squeaked with delight like a child, spreading long arms out, then becoming a crow herself and flapping over to annoy Fear, who was preening quietly nearby.
The memory halted, faltering and fading like an old painting left in the sun. Astlyr's Fen'Harel turned to Dirthamen, an eager expression on his face. "And it worked, didn't it?"
"Would you like to see?" Dirthamen was smiling his very white grin.
"Of course," Fen said, eyes alight. "I do not recall much of that day either, but I suspect my plan must have worked, or you would not have shown me what you did. How I discovered...how I invented the foci."
The scene before them changed again. Once more Astlyr took in the clearing with the strange circle, but this time all of the other gods were present. Each had another figure standing with them, some animal, some elvhen. Astlyr guessed without asking that these were the Spirit Companions of each 'god'. The men and women had arranged themselves, and their companions, around the circle, each clasping an object before them. Astlyr recognized Dirthamen's key dangling from a chain in his outstretched fist. Her brows went up when she saw what Fen'Harel held. The blackened jawbone of a wolf.
Algar'nan moved amongst them, checking each in turn. Beside him stalked a large lizard, about the size of a dog. It stuck out a bluish tongue as it waddled along with strong, in-turned forepaws as its elven Companion ran a hand over each item in turn, obviously examining them with his magic. He nodded at each one. "Good. Very good. Ah, there's a great deal of Fade magic on this one," he congratulated Mythal. She held out an amulet. By far the prettiest of the collection. Mythal's Spirit Companion leaned in to look. She had taken the form of an ordinary woman, save for the large, bat-like wings which sprouted from her shoulder blades.
"Thank you," Mythal bowed her head slightly, smiling with perfectly formed lips. "Determination helped me find it. I wanted something perfect."
Algar'nan nodded sagely, striding to his daughter and taking in the hare's hindpaw on a string of leather she presented to him. He chuckled at her, "what a pity you do no share your mother's love for beautiful things," he joked as he passed his hand over the object. Andruil's spirit companion had taken the shape of a hawk and perched on her shoulder, eyes keen and knowing. "Vigilance helped me with mine as well," she said, with a sharp look in her eye which implied that the spirit, in hawk form, had likely been responsible for the death of the hare whose paw she now proffered to her father.
"Not as much Fade energy on this one, but I believe it will do." Elgar'nan said, readying to move to the next in the circle, the burly June who held forth an elegantly forged sword which Astlyr was almost certain she recognized.
"You believe it will do?" Mythal stopped him with her curt words. "No, my husband. Be certain. Do not risk our daughter because you believe it is enough."
Elgar'nan paused, giving the woman a soft, placating look. "Never fear. It has much Fade magic all through it. Andruil will be alright. Remember, wife, that this is new ground we tread. If we fear and falter now it will all be for naught."
Mythal did not look pleased, but she settled as her man moved on to each in turn, checking over their foci, his Spirit Companion stumping behind him, a bit broodily. Astlyr watched all this with wide eyes. "I knew it! I mean, I didn't know it, know it," she muttered, more to herself than anyone, though the rabbit cocked an ear as it worked. "You weren't born from the sun, you 'gods'. You didn't walk out of a sea of tears, or whatever other nonsense the story tellers say. You were people. Just people." These men and women before her were no otherworldly, spiritual beings. Rather a bunch of overly intelligent elves with inflated opinions of themselves and a plan. Always beware people with egos and a plan, she thought darkly.
"Would you hush?" the rabbit hissed.
Astlyr winced, quieting herself. She had been growing used to being unseen and she forgot that someone was working hard to keep her that way. She mouthed 'I'm sorry' to the spirit. It merely flipped its tail at her, in what she guessed to be a rude gesture, and carried on with what it was doing.
Algar'nan had finished his scrutiny of each object and seemed satisfied. Then he produced, from a bag at his hip, an item which Astlyr knew well. The orb of power. She caught herself grinding her teeth at the sight of the thing. She forced herself to settle, watching.
"I have chosen a dreamer's orb for my own item," Algar'nan announced. He turned in place, surveying his circle one more time. "Are we all prepared?"
"We are," the rest chorused as though this had been rehearsed. June began to step forward, his Companion, in the form of a well muscled woman, moved to follow him towards the center of the circle.
Algar'nan stopped June with a raised hand. "No. Friend. I cannot ask you to take this risk. I will be the first to attempt this." Mythal and Andruil looked ready to cry foul but Algar'nan fixed them both with such a steely glare that they fell silent. No one else seemed eager to oppose him.
"What about me?" Fen'Harel asked, moving into the circle, wolf spirit trailing with tail tucked uncertainly.
"You?" Algar'nan was obviously trying to conceal disgust at the notion.
"Why not?" Fen'Harel asked, facing the his fellow and matching him look for look. Glare for glare. "I am the least liked out of all of us, you must all admit that. I am the one who discovered the foci. Let me be the one to take the risk."
Elgar'nan seemed to weigh this. His obvious desire to be the first warring with a need to see Fen'Harel put in his place should things go sour. Free Will bristled her fur as the lizard eyed her darkly. "Very well," the leader finally agreed, waving his hands dismissively as though his going first had been but a moment's whim.
Elgar'nan moved to stand in Fen'Harel's place in the circle leaving the red headed man in the middle. Free Will became a young woman again, standing nervously beside her Companion. He looked to her, "are you ready?"
"Yes," she said with a fearless, determined tone, raising her chin in a posture which Astlyr recognized. In her time she had seen Solas stand so. And then again in the desert, when Fen'Harel had prepared for battle. A cocky, dominant pose which made the corners of Astlyr's mouth twitch up in a smile as she watched.
"Alright," Elgar'nan said, once again loud and in charge. "Let us begin!"
The mages of the group began to spin their spells. Astlyr could almost feel the draw of all their combined magics. They were tearing at the veil like as young child might try to cut a bit of paper. It was ugly and clumsy and it made Astlyr wince. She wished she could stride over and open a rift for them right them so they would stop poking little holes. Fade magic bled through, dripping and oozing as from a wound. Once it slithered into their world it came alive, suddenly springing across hands, staves and stones like jumping electricity. Several of the 'gods' flinched and winced as the magic found them. At first it spread everywhere, lancing off into the forest, grasping hungrily at the obviously frightened Spirit Companions. Then, slowly, very slowly, Astlyr could see it gathering. It was drawn towards Fen'Harel, who was clasping the wolf jawbone in hands that looked too stiff to release it. Astlyr could not tell if the other mages were channeling it towards him, or if they could only do their best to keep it from crashing into them.
Fen'Harel's face was washed with green fadelight as the writhing magic was drawn to his foci. She saw him biting his lip so hard a small trickle of blood ran down his chin. Every part of him seemed locked as the magic surged and bucked around him like a wild animal. Free Will gave a strangled sound which was part scream, part gasp. She seemed to be struggling against the pull of the orb herself. Her form wavered, rippling, but she made no attempt to leave Fen'Harel's side.
"When you feel you have enough power-" Elgar'nan shouted. Astlyr realized that he had to yell. A sound like a terrible wind had filled the clearing and he could barely be heard above it.
Fen'Harel hesitated, still clasping the jaw bone as though if he let go he would certainly die, and for all Astlyr knew, that was exactly what would happen. Then he tore one hand free from the foci and grasped that of Free Will. At first she looked terrified, as though she might pull away. Then a calm, understanding expression came over her sharp, small features. She turned, still holding Fen'Harel hand, and moved towards him, as if for a hug. Instead of putting his arms around the youth, Astlyr watched with open eyes and jaw agape, as Free Will and Fen'Harel seemed to step into one another.
There was another sound of rising wind, almost like the desperate howl of a wolf, and for a moment both man and spirit were shrouded in a thick cloud of smoke, which writhed with green sparks of Fade magic. Astlyr heard someone in the circle cry out, but no one moved to break it. The mages were busy as it was, keeping the Fade magic from attacking their non-magical fellows, and themselves. Then the smoke dissipated, so quickly it reminded Astlyr of Cole teleporting.
Where two had stood now one remained. A red haired man clasping a wolf jawbone. The mages stopped their spells, the Fade knitting itself neatly back together around them. They had not ripped the veil so wide that it would stay. Fen'Harel blinked, blue eyes for a long moment unseeing. His face was wan, his hands shook. "I can...I can hear her! No. That is wrong. I can't hear her, she's speaking now. She is my voice...she is my thoughts. She's...me."
Algar'nan was the first to step towards his friend, tentative, "she's hasn't just joined with you, as some spirits do? Free Will? Are you in there? Can I speak with you?"
Fen'Harel's brows knit together as he seemed deep in concentration. "No. She's here...we're here. Both and one." Then he transformed into a wolf. A black wolf with bright blue eyes. Everyone in the clearing gasped. It was abundantly clear that Fen'Harel had never done this before. "Her will...my will...her thoughts are the same as mine. She's thinking with me...for me? Right now. I can hear her and myself speaking these words." The wolf turned around and around, as though seeing the clearing for the first time. As though trying to see itself fully.
Astlyr heard another sound. Her head snapped around to look at her version Fen'Harel and Dirthamen. Fen had collapsed to his knees, arms about himself. "I thought I'd lost her! Mythal took her memory from me and I thought I'd lost her, but I can't because she's me!"
Dirthamen placed a gentle hand on Fen's back, "she is. Just as Loyalty is me, and I her. With the aid of the foci we had done it. We had become another being. A new race that had never before, nor has it since, walked the world. Until your reawakening."
"I can feel the Fade!" Memory Fen'Harel was saying, breathlessly. "We could step into it now if I wished." He kept changing from plural to singular as he referred to himself.
Algar'nan was eager for his turn. He moved Fen'Harel back to his space in the circle. Everyone was watching him with concern. Dirthamen momentarily broke the circle to check on his friend. "It's wonderful, Dirthamen!" Fen'Harel said. "It is truly what we have sought!"
"Could you...could you pull apart from her?" Dirthmamen questioned, turning his back to Algar'nan who was already taking his spot in the center, a wild eagerness on his handsome features.
"I...we could, perhaps" Fen'Harel's brows furrowed. "If we wished it, but with each moment I feel her becoming more me. Or me becoming more her. Solid. Complete. If we pulled apart now, we don't think we could come back together"
"Is everyone able to go on?" Algar'nan asked the group, his eyes alight.
They all seemed willing, perhaps even excited to try more. Astlyr suspected most of them were already eagerly anticipating their turn. Once again the mages tore clumsily into the fade. Astlyr wondered what its denizens must be thinking as more magic seeped out and slowly began to collect in the orb Algar'nan held. When Fen'Harel added his own magic into the mix, it was far from the haphazard work of the others. Instead he made elegant openings, coaxing the Fade magic out in manageable amounts. He even guided it to the Orb without much thought. Astlyr was impressed. She may have mocked the others before, but she knew she could never manage what Fen'Harel was doing. Her expertise was limited to opening and closing rifts, and apparently to calling helpful spirits. She caught little glimpses of Subtlety still working beside her. Fen'Harel showed mastery.
Algar'nan's Spirit Companion took its turn to join with its counterpart and once again only one figure remained in the center of the circle. Alger'nan let the orb fall from his hands into the grass, a huge smile splitting his face. "Yes!" he roared with exuberance. "I can feel it...him...us! The Fade is so close, I can almost-" he reached out then took a step, vanishing from view. Had he just stepped into the Fade? No tear, no fuss, just gone? Moments later he reappeared the same look of raw elation on his features. He turned to his comrades, "Do you know what this means?! We are a new force in this world! We will have a power that no one else possesses! We could be...we can be, gods!"
One by one, as Astlyr watched, each 'god' performed the ritual. It became steadily easier as each bonded with their Spirit Companion and was able to have great control over the wild Fade magics. By the end there was no mess at all. Not one stray strand got loose. Each god tried out new forms and stretched new muscles. Algar'nan transformed into a gigantic creature that Astlyr recognized with a grimace. It was the beast she and her company had faced when Mythal, clothed in Solas' form, had tricked them into freeing the god. She swallowed hard. Even in the memory he looked close enough to touch. Real enough to crush her on a whim.
Mythal became a dragon, swooping on massive wings. Andruil an enormous, steel feathered falcon. Fen'Harel even tried another form. A huge creature the color of oil. It was only vaguely a wolf, with many red eyes like blood droplets on its sleek face. This was the Dread Wolf. This was the creature people feared, and she could see why. Its shape, though hulking, moved with the slithering grace of smoke, sliding in and out of the shade of trees, the shadows of his friends. Astlyr suddenly felt glad that she had not seen this creature in the desert after all. Once it even turned its long, powerful head towards her and she could have sworn all those ruby eyes were locked on her, before it moved on.
She tore her gaze from the god-creatures and looked to her own version of Fen'Harel. So small, so deflated compared to the one in the memory, who was already coming into his own with his new powers. She knew what happened next. No one needed to show her those memories. These people, these beings, became the gods that the elvhen worshiped. It must have been slow at first. Gaining a few followers here and there, but by the end they had amassed armies. Did any of them even remember this moment? Well, Dirthamen did because the spirits of the Fade likely reminded him, but did Mythal recall that she had once been a woman with a loyal Spirit Companion? Did cruel June know the man before the ritual?
Certainly Fen'Harel had recalled enough to know that something was missing. That Mythal had robbed him of some part of his past. Perhaps he had more willing to hold on to a time before he was deified, which was why he was never quite like the others. Never asking for people to fight and die on his behalf. She couldn't be certain, but she watched her Fen'Harel's face. Those eyes. The ones she had come to know and trust, however foolishly. He was still taking in the scene before him, silent and still.
"This is how we are able to take on the bodies of new hosts," Fen said, eyes alight as he watched the freshly made gods frolic and test new powers. "I remembered that we could, naturally, and that the host must be willing. It was a puzzle that vexed me, and I knew that once I must have understood how it came to be so."
"Because of the joining we are closer to being spirits than many of us would care to admit," Dirthamen explained, his voice held the steady rhythm of a story teller. "With the aid of our foci to channel the unpredictable Fade magic our essence, like spirits, can enter the body of a willing host. However, because we are more than spirit, because we are two souls in one, we are unable to share the form."
"We drive the old consciousness out," Fen afirmed, sadly.
Astlyr pondered this. With the purported longevity of ancient elves this ability to body swap in a crisis, coupled with the power to place part of their soul into an object, they would have seemed all the more god-like, even to themselves. Small wonder they had begun to believe they stood above all those around them.
Fen changed form, taking on the shape Astlyr knew best. A young man with curly brown hair and an elfy nose. "One of The People gave up his life for mine," Fen said, reaching up and running slim fingers over his jawline. "I had no way to thank him."
"Do not waste his sacrifice," Dirthamen advised kindly. "It is a rare thing indeed for one to give all of himself for another he has never met."
"He understood," Fen's voice was very quiet, his fingertips still resting against his skin. "Somehow he understood that if he gave his form to me that he would be lost forever," he looked up at Dirthamen, "this Age is full of courage, my friend. Courage and good people. I believe it will suit you well."
"Let's go," Dirthamen took Fen's shoulders gently, as if to guide him away from this past. Astlyr glanced down at little Subtlety. He was still working hard to keep her concealed. She wondered that only Ghilan'nain had been allowed to become like these others. Why did no one else join them in their pantheon? Perhaps none else were found worthy. Perhaps only some Spirit Companions were strong enough.
The memory was fading, the spider had plucked the strand once more and they stood in the temple, surrounded by web and impossible pillars. "Can you sneak me out?" Astlyr questioned her new friend, knowing that Fen and Dirthamen would have to come her way to exit.
"Follow," the rabbit said, simply. He began to guide her out again. Twice she almost twanged a thread. She had no idea what that would do, but she suspected nothing good. She could hear the low voices of the two men across the room, though she could not focus on what they were saying as she concentrated on making her way out of the temple.
Once she was finally outside she and Subtlety retreated to the shadow of a wall. Here in the Fade the shadow would not stay still, but the rabbit hopped around as though gathering it up and throwing it over her. She almost chuckled at his determination. "I think I can wake myself up now," Astlyr said, letting her mind drift for a moment and feeling it tug towards wakefulness. "Thank you for your help, Subtlety," she smiled down at the rabbit.
"You are welcome, Friend of Spirits," Subtlety changed form into a wisp again, buzzing about her head, a little ball of hazy light. "You're certain you don't need me?"
"Yes. You can go do...whatever it is spirits do," she smiled at the wisp.
It made a lilting chucking sound and vanished. It did not teleport as Cole would have, but seemed to fold itself into the Fade and disappear. She wasn't entirely certain it was truly gone, and not just hiding out, watching her, but she decided not to worry about it. She wanted to get out of there before Fen'Harel and Dirthamen came up out of the temple. She closed her eyes and let her mind clear. She felt the sensation of falling backwards and when her eyes opened again she was looking up at the ceiling of Cullen's tower room. She could hear the gentle breathing of her lover still asleep beside her. A few bright fingers of dawn were making their slow sojourn across the floor.
Astlyr blinked sleep from her eyes and draped a hand over her forehead in thought. She'd had an odd dream. Something about Fen'Harel and Dirthamen. Had it been the Fade? She usually remember Fade dreams much more clearly than this. She tried to blink the cobwebs from her mind. Why on earth did she get the strong impression there had been a rabbit?
***** Whew. Holy hell. What did everyone think? New head-canon, or "burn it! Burn it with fire"? Hahaha. And we are so not done yet! Though the story maybe drawing near the end, it is far from over! I hope you will all continue to journey with me!
I had you all fooled didn't I? You all thought Wisdom was going to be Fen's Spirit Companion! Nope. Just a good friend. Instead he had Free Will. I deliberated really long and hard on that one. I mean REALLY long and hard. Was his spirit of rebellion, or wisdom, or pride, or something else entirely? After obsessively listening to all Fen's banter over and over again I kept coming back to Free Will. His desire that all people should not be enslaved, and should be allowed to do what they do, just as he wants to. He really gets upset with Dorian and Iron Bull over this.
I thought of naming his spirit Freedom, because it rolls of the tongue better, but Free Will is more accurate. What do you guys think?
Hmmmm... Astlyr doesn't fully remember her Fade time? Will it come back to her later?
Quick note: a dreamer's orb is my invention (I'm pretty sure). Don't try to look it up in the wiki. Haha
Next: 7/30/15
Keep up to date, see book reviews and talk about books right here: pages/Emily-Luebke-Author/283743888311991 ****