Chapter 11: Evils Old and New
PAIN!
Not the pain of living, that was something that did not bother her anymore. No, this was different, so many wounds so many burns, cuts, and punctures. Arrows in the mouth and eyes, scales ripped off by many sharpened blades…
She staggered, growling. Regeneration was still possible but it was no longer easy. The damage was too extensive, and the attacks continued. The enemy refused to stop.
Protect, she whispered.
It was a whisper that turned into a song, a song that filled the minds of the slaves.
They would stop the enemy.
They would give her time.
Protect! Protect! Protect!
OBEY!
The slaves were swarming the attackers but it was not enough. One of the enemies, a tiny blonde thing with pointed ears broke away from the slaves…
The tiny one ran at her, a blade larger than her in her hands.
She tried to stand, tried to cast a spell or breathe fire, but the wounds were too great, her movement too sluggish!
She snapped at the tiny one, but the little enemy was too fast, far too fast.
The enemy brought up its blade, slicing deep into her throat, and chest.
She roared to the heavens! Agony replaced pain, agony that made it impossible to fly.
She slumped to the ground wounded, no longer able to stand.
The little one stood over her, covered in black blood, her blood…
…A feral gleam in its eyes.
She struggled hissing, still trying to rise.
Protect, she sang out.
PROTECT!
OBEY!
The slaves were not close enough, and even if they were…
They would not stop the enemy.
The tiny creature raised its blade, a wild scream wailed from its lips.
She tried to back away, to rise, to conquer, but…but…
It was no longer possible.
The end had come!
NO!
AWAY, she snarled through the song, the blonde enemy could hear her.
She would listen.
AWAY! AWAY! AWAY!
The blade came down.
AWAY! AWAY! AWAY!
IOI
"AWAY!" Lyna cried out into the shadows.
The warden bolted, sat upright in bed, her heart pounding in her ears.
It took her a moment to remember where she was. She …she had been reading, stretching out on the lovely feather bed.
The others by now were all asleep in their rooms. The Grand Duke had offered them sanctuary for the time being. He still believed that Comte Lumiere's men were on the prowl for her.
He had taken it upon himself to shield them, to keep the bogey man from his prey.
Lyna was not sure why the man was doing this. He claimed that doing so provided him with amusement, and that it was because he had no love of the Comte, that the man's presence in Orlais was too disruptive.
By helping her escape, the Grand Duke hoped that the man would turn his attentions elsewhere, freeing the Orlesian court of his foul presence.
Lyna suspected…another motive.
The warden knew fear. She had seen it many times. Felt its icy touch many times.
Grand Duke Gaspard feared this so called "Count of Light."
Perhaps by aiding her, he was trying to face his fear, either that, or he only desired her to leave, so the Comte would have to leave Orlais to pursue her.
The Dalish rubbed her tired eyes.
Yes, she knew what it was to fear a monster.
She relived that fear every time she closed her eyes.
The darkspawn were always there, and through them…the ghost of the Archdemon.
She tried to take a deep breath, to will away the pain, to forget the sound of the blade falling. The fact that it had been her blade did not take away from the fear she felt, the anger at what had happened.
She took another deep breath.
These were not her thoughts, not her emotions; they had come from the beast, the Archdemon…
…and the Archdemon was dead, it could not harm her now. Only the echo of its thoughts remained.
Thoughts could not hurt her…and they were all that was left…
She pursed her lips.
Perhaps thoughts were not the only thing that was left.
There was also the song, the song was always there. The song had been with her ever since that night on Fort Drakon. She had tried to ignore it but…
It never went away!
The Dalish took a shuddering breath.
She feared it never would!
She took a deep shuddering breath trying to center herself. Her wool nightgown stuck to her body, her sheets were damp with sweat.
A dream, she thought to herself.
It was nothing but a dream.
Of course, she knew better, it was more than that. It was the same dream that had haunted her sleep since the night she had slain the Archdemon. At first the dream had come to her every night. It haunted her night time world with the beast's final moments…
She should have died too; perhaps it would have been better if she had.
She had done her duty that day, but had still thought to cheat the friend of the dead of his prize.
Now…she was paying for that arrogance.
Now she was paying.
She pushed back the covers and went to the window of rather opulent bedroom.
The sounds of the city did little to calm her troubled mind, but still, she welcomed them.
A city was life, after all.
She really wanted to be a part of life right now.
"You find this relaxing?" she could almost see Tamlen standing there, and amused smile on his face.
Lyna Mahariel, daughter of the Sabrae clan, needing a shemlen city to feel safe?
She could almost see him shaking his head.
"You have grown soft, lethallin."
She tried to push such thoughts out of her head. Tamlen was gone; as was the Dalish hunter she was when she had first found that mirror. The woman she had become was someone far different from what she had thought she would be by now.
She would not diminish what she had done during the Blight. She had lost too much to ever go back to being the carefree elf she had been back then.
She had changed, yes, but that did not mean that she was less because of that change.
She was a warden, the slayer of the Archdemon.
No one could take that away from her. She had given of herself to save her people, to save everyone.
It was a sacrifice she had made willingly…and she was not afraid of the consequences.
She was not afraid.
She could live with the dreams, and the song.
She took another cleansing breath.
She could deal with it.
After the battle of Fort Drakon, the warden mages from Orlais had examined her. For the first time in history, a warden had survived striking the final blow against an Archdemon…
It was not surprising that her fellow wardens were curious of how that was done.
They had done many tests, but found nothing. When told about the dreams they told her that it was nothing that she need worry about…
The Archdemon was dead.
It could not hurt her anymore.
Lyna took another shuddering breath.
She wished that she could believe them.
She truly did.
The Archdemon's soul had passed through her, they did not doubt that. What she was experiencing now was an echo. They were simple leftovers from the beasts passing…memories, feelings, thoughts that had been fresh in the beast's mind.
They saw no danger in those thoughts.
The warden mages believed those echoes, like all echoes, would fade with time.
So far that had not happened.
Lyna's mouth became a grim line.
She could still hear the Archdemon sometimes, what was left of it whispering in her head, and in her dreams.
She sighed.
It was not something easily ignored, she tried not to listen, but sometimes, she could almost make out the words…almost.
A shiver ran down her spine, she held herself trying hard not to be afraid. Fear could be healthy after all, she knew. As long as you did not let it control you.
They were just dreams.
They weren't real.
She sniffed, wiping at her eyes, pushing back tears before they could become more than just a thought.
She sometimes feared she was going mad. The nightmare about the Archdemon's final moments continued to haunt her. At first it had been once a week, now it once every three months or so…
She wished that she could say she was happy about that.
Her elven ears lowered slightly.
Perhaps it would have been better had she died that day…?
Perhaps?
The Dalish's ears lowered, an angry snarl escaped her lips.
Stop it, she thought.
Stop it right now!
She took another deep breath, the song retreated back into where it had come from, only a slight buzzing remained.
Lyna had grown used to that.
She stood a little straighter.
She was no coward. She had faced a great darkness and won!
She would not let herself be destroyed by that evil's echo.
The Archdemon was dead, that was for the best. It freed her up to engage new foes, to protect those she cared about from harm.
Her mouth turned into a grim sneer.
She would have to find a way to stop this Comte Lumiere.
It would not be easy, the Grand Duke had said.
The Count of Light's reach was quite long.
IOI
Over dinner, she and Gaspard had talked about the man. The Grand Duke thought it best that she and her allies knew exactly who it was that was after them. Much of what he knew was simple speculation, but at least some of it was drawn from hard facts.
Julien Lumiere was a shadow falling over the warden and her companions.
It was best that they knew what that meant.
Gaspard did his best to describe the man. He was a widower, in the first few years of his ninetieth decade. He was quite tall, over six feet tall, silver haired with sunken cheeks and cold black eyes.
The Comte had first appeared over sixty years ago. He had been a young man then, fighting to keep Ferelden under the shroud of the Empire.
During that time, he had burned several Fereldan villages. Every man, woman, and child put to the sword. It was said that the Comte had witnessed each and every death personally, that in watching them die he learned clues about the future, clues that led him to even greater military victories.
"Was he a mage?' Sister Esme had asked the Grand Duke.
Gaspard chuckled.
"That had been suggested sister, but any Templar that tried to get close enough to see died a horrible death."
The Grand Duke shook his head.
"After a while, such attempts stopped. The man was winning victories for Orlais."
"In the eyes of the Empire that was all that mattered."
"The man spent almost a decade in Ferelden; he had conducted dozens of campaigns, all of them successful, which is why the Emperor made him a Comte. He returned home a conquering hero. For the next ten years after that, he attended fetes and solons of the Orlesian nobility.
Gaspard chuckled.
"The nobles expected a hero, what they got was something quite different. It was during this time that people began vanishing around him, thus building his rather…curious reputation. According to records the Comte married sometime during that period, but his wife died shortly after their first year of marriage."
Lyna's ears twitched.
"Did he ever remarry?" she asked.
"Twice more," Gaspard said taking a fresh goblet of wine. "Once more before the loss of Ferelden, and then one after, both of his wives lived only about a year or so after the wedding. Their siblings suffered many misfortunes as well. Soon all the wealth and power of their families were absorbed into the Comte's personal holdings. My agents believed that the man did sire children, but no one knows how many, or what they might be doing now. The Comte always preferred to keep his business secret."
Gaspard snorted.
"The Comte is a very wealthy man, no one doubts that, but nowhere will you find his name on any land deeds, business contracts, or family heraldries."
Bok frowned.
"So the man is a ghost?"
Gaspard smiled at him.
"A very dangerous ghost, master dwarf," the grand duke said, "A very dangerous ghost indeed."
The Grand Duke slumped down in his chair.
"Shortly before the death of Ferelden's Rebel Queen, Lumiere was summoned to Val Royeaux. Emperor Florian had heard tales of the man's…exploits. The Comte impressed him, and soon he had been named Occult advisor to the Court of Orlais."
Gaspard shivered.
"I saw him only once, when Celene and I were children. My father pointed him out to me during a ball at the Winter Palace. He saw me watching him, and he smiled at me."
The Grand Duke took a hard drink of wine.
"I had nightmares about that man's smile for weeks."
"The Comte served as occult advisor until a few weeks before Emperor Florian's death, after that he vanished from court. Six years ago, he returned briefly. It was during a Funalis celebration. "
Gaspard's brow furrowed.
"A young chevalier named Guy tried to make a name for himself at the Comte's expense. He challenged the Comte to duel over a slight the young man's family had suffered twenty years earlier. Keep in mind, the Comte was in his mid-eighties by this point."
Lyna frowned.
"What happened?"
Gaspard shook his head.
"The boy lasted only a minute. The Comte was a skilled duelist in his youth. Apparently advanced age did not diminish his skills."
The Comte stuck his dueling blade through the boy's throat. As he lay dying, he picked up the chevaliers long sword and beheaded him."
The Grand Duke gave her a cool look.
"Does that knowledge frighten you, warden, that a man in his eighties could do that to a boy in his prime?"
She nodded slightly.
It was enough to give her pause.
Gaspard smiled slightly.
"Good," he said, "Underestimating this man would be a very fatal mistake."
Lyna did her best to digest what she heard.
What the Grand Duke was telling her was…intriguing to say the least.
Still…she preferred a second opinion on the man. Someone she could trust.
Fortunately she knew someone quite versed in Orlesian stories.
When the Comte had resurfaced, Gaspard sent his agents to find out why. It was through a bit of bribery that he had learned about the Comte's interest in Brother Marcelle. Gaspard had sent his bard to keep an eye on the man, the same bard they had met in the tavern. Sabine was her name.
Sabine had spent two weeks…observing Brother Marcelle, during that time she had copied or stolen several of his manuscripts. The Brother, so enthralled by her company had not missed them. By stealing those tomes, the girl had saved them from being destroyed or taken along with the rest of Marcelle's work.
Lyna had asked to see them, the Grand Duke had been more than happy to oblige.
It had been those manuscripts that she had dozed off reading.
She had been…grateful for the man's willingness to aid them.
The Grand Duke brushed off such thanks with a shrug. He was more than happy to aid a fellow warrior. He had even gone so far as to offer Lyna his bard, should she require anything more from the capital.
Lyna had smiled at that offer.
In fact, she did have a job for the girl, a job that she could not trust to any simple messenger.
The next day, she had sent the girl to the Grand Cathedral. She was ordered not to stop until she had found a certain sister on the new Divine's staff.
It would not be easy, she realized, but at the same time, she had no other option.
It was time to see her old friend again.
The warden almost chuckled. Once she had called the woman crazy, now she saw her as one of her best friends.
Sabine swore that she would not fail.
The warden did not doubt her.
The girl would find her friend.
The girl would return with Leliana.