Chapter 13: Esme
Keep your eyes on the horizon. Keep your eyes on the horizon. Keep your eyes on the horizon.
Lyna swallowed hard. She tried to ignore the swaying beneath her feet, the pitch and roll of the waves beneath her.
The elf grimaced.
She had never liked boats. The first time she had journeyed on one had been that first trip to the circle tower years ago, even though it had been on a calm lake, she had still turned as green as grass.
She gripped the railing on the bow. She would not be beaten by this. She had killed an Archdemon damn it.
She would keep her eyes on the horizon.
She let out a shuddering breath.
Keep your eyes on the horizon…
She licked her lips.
…and don't throw up.
She hated to admit it, but the Grand Duke had been true to his word. He had found them a ship out of Val Royeaux, and gotten them there without being detected. He had even offered them the services of Sabine, his bard. Lyna would have preferred not to take the girl, but realized it was probably a good idea to keep her close for now.
If she was on this ship, she could not let slip where they had gone to anyone. Once they reached Kirkwall, she could return to her master. Lyna was grateful for the man's help, but that did not mean that she wanted him watching their every move from now on.
Gaspard would let slip where they had gone eventually, she understood that, but for now they were one step ahead of the hunters, or should have been at least…
She shuddered as the ocean spray hit her face.
They were somewhere off the coast of Nevarra, or so the Captain had informed her. The man, a spice merchant, was making a delivery to the city of Kirkwall. The Grand Duke had convinced him to take on Lyna and her party as passengers. The man knew nothing of what the elf and her party wanted there, so much the better.
The less he knew, the less he could tell if forced.
A fresh wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed it back. She would not be beaten by this, she would not…
She pursed her lips.
She could handle a little sea sickness, once they reached Kirkwall however, they would have a new list of problems…
Lyna frowned.
She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to find Kirkwall's black emporium. It was said that the place was ensorcelled that it could only be found by people who had received an invitation from the mysterious Xenon.
Lyna had no invitation, but hoped that she could find someone who did. Of course that would not be their only problem when they reached Kirkwall. According to the captain the city had plenty of threats all its own, and any one of them could be lethal.
Kirkwall was the seat of Templar power in the Free Marches. The Gallows, a prison that had been converted into a Circle of Magi was said to be a fortress. The Templars of the Kirkwall were not like the one she had encountered in Ferelden. These men had killed one royal family of Kirkwall already and now held their city in an iron grip, officially the nobles ruled, but no one had forgotten what the Templars had done when the nobles had pushed them.
Lyna's own history with the Templar order was not the best in the world. Knight-Commander Greagoir had respected her, but had never completely forgiven her for giving shelter to Anders after the death of his Templar escorts during the Darkspawn Civil War, deaths that he had blamed the mage for.
She sighed heavily.
At the time, she had believed that Anders was worth her protection. His healing magic had saved her life during that first dark night securing the Vigil. Afterward, he had proven to be a staunch ally. Always there with a fireball or some quip to lighten the mood.
She had actually considered making him an officer. He had started to develop a mind for tactics. Then one night he and Justice had gone out on patrol with a warden recruit named Rolan…
They never returned.
Lyna had gone in search of her friend. They had found signs of a battle, some blood, but no corpses, not even ash. Nathaniel had gone with her; he was a remarkably good tracker, for a shem. He came up with the same conclusion that she had.
Anders had been attacked on the road, an attack that had likely been successful. Whoever was behind it must have taken any bodies left behind when the battle had ended, and yes she was sure that there had been bodies.
Anders was too good of a mage not to have taken at least some of his enemies with him.
Which of course led to another question: What had happened to Rolan, and where was Justice?
She had never found a satisfactory answer.
Even if Rolan and Anders had been killed, then Justice should have found his way back to the keep. If the dead human body he had been wearing had been damaged, he would have jumped into another one, she had seen him do that particular trick twice before…
If he had not…?
She shook her head.
What could have killed her friends, who could have done it? Anders had been an experienced warrior by the time he had left. Rolan had been trained by the Templars before joining the order. Anders had been leery about letting a Templar recruit into the order. Lyna had assured him that the boy would be no threat. The joining had bound him in a way that was not easily broken. After that, even had he wanted to return to the Templars it would not have been possible.
The taint was not something you could throw away; it was part of you…
…A fact that she knew better than anyone.
She had approached Greagoir about Rolan once, wanting to send word to his family. The Knight-Commander had informed her that Rolan had had no family. He had been an orphan, raised by the chantry.
The man had no family to inform of his death.
She had accepted that answer, but at the same time, she could not help, but feel that there was something…odd about it. Greagoir had seemed…uncomfortable about discussing the man.
She could have looked into it further, but in the end decided against it.
Rolan was gone.
Anders was gone, and Justice was gone.
Beyond that, what else mattered?
She tried to push such grim thoughts out of her mind. The past was gone, only the present mattered, that and her quest to find a cure for the Calling. Hopefully, Master Xenon would have some clue of where she might search next. She still intended to seek out that warden outpost in Vimmarks, but…
"You seem better this morning, warden."
Lyna smiled.
"I'm still a little nauseous, Esme," she admitted, "But at least I'm not flat on the deck moaning in misery."
The sister chuckled and made her way up to her companion. Of all of them, Esme seemed the most comfortable being on the sea. If anything, she looked…invigorated since they had left dry land behind.
Lyna glared at her, there was no anger in it, but that did not lessen the strength of it.
She hated to admit it, but she was a little jealous of her friend's constitution right now.
"How are the others," the warden inquired.
The sister smiled slightly.
"Bok and Royce seem to be doing okay," she said, "The dwarf seems to have a constitution like a rock. Sabine is…"
Esme shook her head.
"The girl seems to delight in annoying me," she scowled, "She has no use for women of the faith, and keeps trying to bait me into an argument, but for the most part I'm ignoring her."
Lyna chuckled.
"She won't be with us much longer," the warden promised.
"Praise the Maker," the sister said glancing skyward.
"Kierhen's maintaining a stoic silence. If he is suffering any ill effects of this trip he refuses to let it show. The animals are enduring in their cages. Findel is…well, he is lying in a hammock, begging for the elven gods to let him die.
Lyna tried not to smirk; she knew how bad seasickness was. She had offered to help the boy, but he insisted that he would be fine.
Before they had left, Leliana had spoken with her one last time. She had not been able to tell her friend where they were going, and Leliana had understood that.
Sometimes secrecy and the success if a mission was more important than friendship, which did not mean that she, could not help however.
Leliana had provided her old companion with a ginger extract potion, something that was supposed to help with seasickness. It wasn't a cure or vaccine, but at least it allowed her to remain vertical. She had offered some to Findel but the boy had refused.
He was paying for that refusal now.
They would just have to let the sea sickness run its course. Once the sea calmed down, Findel would likely make a full recovery.
She found herself glancing over at Esme. The girl had said little during their time at the Grand Duke's estate. Leliana had offered to shelter the young priestess, smooth away any issues resulting from her flight from her village, and offer her a new posting.
The girl had been flattered by the offer, but had refused. She told Leliana that she felt that the Maker put her on this path for a reason, a reason that she would never discover if she returned to the chantry now.
"No, I will stay with the warden and the others," she had proclaimed, "it may be the only way to find out what the Maker has in store for me."
Leliana had accepted that and sent the girl on her way. She had offered them the Maker's blessing as they set off for the docks of Val Royeaux.
Now here they were just the two of them.
She could not help it, she realized. What she had seen of Esme so far did not give her any real insight into who the girl truly was.
And besides…since they were stuck here anyway, they might as well learn a little more about each other.
Esme had shrugged at that. She did not see herself as being very important in the overall scheme of things.
Her parents had lived simply along the northern shores of Ferelden. Father had been a shepherd, while mother had been the daughter of a successful fisherman. How such a relationship could have begun in the first place was a mystery to all but Esme, but that did not mean that she was unwilling to talk about it.
"Tell me about them, your family," The warden had requested.
Again Esme sighed.
"There is not much to tell," She continued, "My mother moved around a lot, at least in his youth. Father had never been more than ten miles away from her home. Aubrey was…"
Esme winced.
"Aubrey always wanted to travel," she said, "He will never get the chance to do that now."
Lyna's elven ears twitched with curiosity.
"Aubrey is your brother?"
The sister nodded.
"Not just my brother, but my twin, my other half."
A wave of sorrow passed over her face.
"Aubrey would not have had hesitated to accompany you on this journey," she said with a sad smile." We might have grown up on a farm, but my brother had salt water in his blood. He got that from my mother's side of the family I suppose. They were all sailors and fishermen.
She shook her head.
"He probably would have spent the rest of his life on the water if his magic had not manifested. I think that is what hurt him the most about being in the Circle Tower in Ferelden, being so close to the water, but not being able to be on it."
Lyna winced at the mention of Kinloch Hold.
"Were the two of you there during the Blight?"
"Aubrey was…he had just passed his Harrowing when the coup began."
Esme smiled slightly.
"He told me that the Hero of Ferelden saved his life that day, I owe you for that."
Lyna nodded, accepting her thanks with humility.
Esme turned back to the sea.
"I had just finished my training in Highever a month after the Archdemon fell. My parents did some work with the nobles you see, and they pulled some strings, allowing me to serve in the Circle Tower, so that I could be close to my brother again. It was the first time we had seen each other in almost…six years, seven..."
She sighed.
"It hardly seems possible, growing up we were never separate for more than an hour or two at most. We quarreled on and off, but we always forgave each other. How could we not?"
Lyna pursed her lips, there was only one question that she could think to ask right now, and was not quite sure how to ask it without offending the girl, but she still thought it needed to be said, if they were to go any further…
"What happened to your brother?"
Esme winced, and fell silent.
For a moment the two women stood there in an awkward silence.
"If…if you do not wish to answer…"
"No," Esme said, "I…it is just uncomfortable to talk about, even now."
The sister sighed.
"My brother was a talented healer," she began, "I saw him work miracles with even the most grievous of wounds. He was also a skilled spirit medium. I did not understand fully what that meant, only that he had what he liked to call a great affinity for the fade, and spirits in general."
She shook her head.
"What happened…I only know what the mages saw, and Templars told me later? One of the spirits of the fade had taken an interest in my brother. An interest that I am told went beyond the norm. Whenever my brother entered the fade, alone or with others she was there."
Lyna's ears twitched.
"She?"
"Yes" Esme said, "According to the mages that had been working with my brother she always appeared to him as a beautiful woman."
Lyna's eyes narrowed.
"Was it a desire demon?"
"My brother did not think so; she never tried to tempt him; at least that is what I learned from his fellows…after…"
The sister's fingers curled into angry fists
"During some spell he was casting, the spirit used her connection to my brother to cross over from the fade, not fully you understand, but enough to scare the Templars that were observing the casting. The Knight-Lieutenant on duty tried to intervene, to convince Aubrey to send the spirit back. He grabbed my brother's shoulder and pushed him when he did not…"
Esme frowned.
"The spirit, she used her connection with my brother to breach the summoning circle. She lashed out at the Templars, blasting the Lieutenant against the wall. The other mages panicked and lost control of the spell. The fade was breached, demons tried to cross."
She shivered.
"I was in the chapel, praying, when this all happened. I heard the Templars shouting, calling for reinforcements. Aubrey managed to seal the breach, he and his spirit worked in tandem, or so the mages that were there said."
She shook her head.
"She had only been trying to protect my brother. I don't know why, but she was only trying to protect him! Knight-Commander Greagoir was furious. No spirit should have been able to breach that circle. Even the First Enchanter feared a mage with such a connection to a spirit, it was not possession, but it was not something that should have been possible."
Esme shuddered.
"I saw my brother once before it happened. If…if he had known…he would likely not have been so calm."
Lyna blinked.
"What happened?"
The sister's eyes narrowed.
They made him tranquil."
Lyna gasped.
"Creators," she whispered, "No.''
"They made Aubrey tranquil," Esme spat, "He might have passed his Harrowing, but they felt he had grown too dangerous to allow him to keep his powers, that his connection to the spirit was too strong. I went down the morning after his arrest, to make sure he was fine, his cell was empty. I asked the guard but he refused to tell me anything. That afternoon I saw him during noon day meal, shuffling in with the rest of the tranquil. He…he…"
Anger flashed in Esme's eyes.
"I…I fainted when I saw him like that! When I awoke in healing room I almost ran to the Knight-Commander's office. He was sympathetic, but offered no apology, he had done his duty. I went to the First Enchanter, but even he felt what had happened was the right thing. The Circle as a whole was too important to be sacrificed for one mage. They…they…"
She fought back a sob. Lyna tried to comfort her, but Esme held up her hand.
"I tried to do my duty, but seeing my brother, my twin, like that. It was intolerable. The Knight-Command took pity on me eventually; he spoke with the Revered Mother and had me transferred to Orlais. That is where we met."
Esme shook her head.
"My brother did not deserve that fate. He did not!
Lyna winced.
Having seen the tranquil herself…
She…she could not imagine seeing someone she loved left in such a state, much less a sibling.
Esme turned away.
"I should go check on Findel," she said, "Good bye, warden."
"Dareth shiral," Lyna said under her breath.
The sister retreated, sailors moved out of her way.
"Sister," Lyna called out.
The girl stopped.
"Yes?"
Lyna gave her a pained look.
"I'm sorry about your brother."
Esme nodded and slipped back down below deck.
Lyna sighed and shook her head.
She looked out again over the horizon.
Poor Esme, she thought.
Suddenly her sea sickness did not seem as bad as it once was.
IOI
Esme said nothing as she passed two sailors. They respected her as a member of the chantry and kept their silence, most of them anyways.
Emotions burned in her breast. She was angry and sad all at the same time. No matter how much time had passed, Aubrey's fate remained an open wound in her heart.
Why should it not, her conscience said, he was her twin; they had literally been born together.
Two sides of the same coin, they had been inseparable once.
She closed her eyes, remembering that day, the day that Templars took her brother into custody, and took him to the cells beneath the tower.
What came next was something she would never forget, not if she lived to be a hundred years old.
This she did not tell the warden, it was too personal.
She had gone to Aubrey, after it all had happened. Her brother should have been terrified taken in to Templar custody, but he seemed resigned, calm even.
It had shaken her to her core.
She had tried to fight the tears, but she could not. Aubrey was her twin, her other half. If the Templars hurt him…?
He had smiled and took her hand.
"Don't worry," he had murmured, "Don't worry about me; you will be safe, I promise."
She had not understood that.
He was the one in danger, and all he had thought of was her.
It made no sense.
The ship lurched underneath her. She put out her hand to catch herself.
Esme gasped.
The wood where her hand had touched was now covered with ice!
She looked down at her hands. Her palms had frosted over. She felt no cold, but could feel the freezing temperatures in her bones.
She closed her eyes.
She prayed.
"No," she murmured, "Sweet Andraste save me. Maker give me strength. Take this cruel curse from me. Take it please."
The words became a chant. She moved into the shadows, no sailor passed by, thank the Maker.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
She struggled to regain control.
Maker please!
Maker please!
Esme felt her heart slow, her breathing became more even.
She took a deep cleansing breath.
She opened her eyes.
The cold was gone from her hands.
She sighed with relief.
Bless you Maker, she thought.
Thank you.
She adjusted her robes, straightened her hair, once again she was a calm efficient daughter of the chantry.
She continued on her way.
In the back of her mind, she still felt the slight pull of panic. It was getting worse, stronger.
Esme shook her head.
"It had started the night that Aubrey had been made tranquil, she had no idea why.
When Aubrey had first been taken to the tower, she had been tested by the Templars. They had found that she had no magical talent. She had escaped the curse that afflicted her brother.
She shook her head.
This was not possible!
How could this be happening!
"I'm no mage," she murmured.
She repeated those words under her breath, like a chant.
It had been her mantra since first leaving Kinloch Hold.
It brought her comfort.
I am no mage. I am no mage. I am no mage.
She paused, something twinged her in breast.
If you are no mage, something inside her asked…
Esme shuddered.
What are you?
Esme shook her head.
She had no idea.
She pushed through the door leading back to her other companions. She was avoiding the question, because if she did not…she had no idea what she would do.
What are you?"
She sighed.
She had no idea.