Siris from Tevinter, chapter 5!
I apologise for the mistakes: english is not my mother tongue. But I'm trying to make as much progress as I can, as fast as possible!
Fanfiction, AU-Dragon Age; univers and characters belong to Bioware, etc... Mother Maryse, Garon, Shala, Kala, Ilia and Alia and Siris are Original Characters. As you may have noticed, I took a lot of liberties with the story, but that's the magic of Alternative-Univers. 3
The Templar Order in the south had many similarities with the one in Tevinter. Saying that out loud would not make Siris any friends, but it was the truth. As she waited her turn to give her message to the Knight-captain Cullen, the young elf had plenty of time to observe the Gallows' courtyard. The organisation was impressive, but there were still problems, such as the Knight-Captain being overwhelmed by outsiders while the Knight-Commander was away; for a moment, Siris wondered how the Circle of Minrathous dealt with this kind of situation.
"Next!" the Knight-Captain Cullen rumbled with frustration. "Maker's Breath… I hope you're the last!"
Siris shyly stood up, and presented the letter.
"From who?" He asked like a golem would.
"An innocent." Siris replied, not sure if she had to say her news friends' names out loud.
The templar let a heavy sigh escape his mouth as he opened the letter. He started to read, then frowned. He looked at Siris and for a moment. For a moment, she feared he could not read her writing… or her words for that matter.
"Is this… from refugees?" He asked.
"Maybe." Siris cautiously replied.
The Knight-Captain frowned even more. His eyes wondered the courtyard with vigilance. Siris didn't know what to do. Should she leave or should she stay? The elf wanted to be far away, but she needed to know if the templar understood her poorly written letter; if he will do something about the malificar. The young elven woman almost jumped went his heavy armored hand landed on her shoulder.
"Follow me." He said.
Siris did not dare say no. She followed him on top of stairs (Again with the stairs! This bloody city is full of them!) and entered a what seemed to be part of the "templar building". They entered in an office and the Knight-Captain put the letter on a desk to read it again.
"We should be safe from spies here. I think. I can't really read what's written here." He said. "I'm not sure some of these words exists in common. Did you write this letter?"
Siris said nothing, let nothing appeared. She had training with her old master: she didn't know how much she could trust the man. He looked rather young and gentle; but he was Knight-Commander Meredith's second-in-command. As such, caution was in order. Siris did not want to bring trouble to Alia and Ilia. They were taking enough risks as it was.
"I understand your caution, but I manage to read "malificar" in this letter." The Knight-Captain said. "And I don't like it. If there is a blood mage in the city, I need to know."
"My writing is terrible." Siris finally said. "But no one else knew how to use a quill."
"Your accent… You're from Tevinter?" the templar said, surprised.
For a brief moment, Siris felt a wave of pure energy invading the room. Knight-Captain Cullen's eyes went light blue in a flash, like Anders, but in a less menacing manner. Siris observed the templar for a long moment. She never saw one that close. His white skin had blue veins which lose their light when the man "calm down". Was this… lyrium? It was impressive and somehow sad. Knight-Captain Cullen looked tired, and it was not because of the humans earlier.
"You are no mage." He said.
Cullen asked Siris to sit down and explain everything. If she had known, the elf would have not bothered to write down a freaking letter in Southern Common. But talking was good. The templar was mostly silent, listening carefully to what Siris had to say.
"I don't suppose your elven friend would like to come here? We can protect her."
"With all due respect, I saw what the southerners Templars are capable of. "Protecting" an elf is as much impossible for you than it is for tevinter knights. No one cares about my kind; even if you do, that doesn't change this fact. Deal with the malificar, and maybe she'll have a chance to survive this city."
"It's not that bad…"
"You're wrong. It is bad. But you live here, you're a human, and a knight. As such, it's pointless to argue with you about this cursed city."
Siris felt bitter. "Not that bad?" He never set foot in the alienage! That man was no better than a noble tevinter: ignoring the suffering of the people different from him.
"Do your job, deal with the malificar. And perhaps I will consider trusting a templar."
Siris stood up and left. Not in her dreams she would have been able to do that in Tevinter; or say those things she said. To a human. Who was a Templar. It felt damn good. Potentially dangerous, but totally worth it! And it gave her some style!
The young elf went back to Lowtown to buy some supplies. She was almost ready to go to Ostwick. As she went to the city gates, her thoughts flew to Alia and Ilia. "Elven Gods, Tevene Old Gods, Maker, Andraste, Koslun, whoever might hear my prayer…" She though. "Please watch other them." She hoped the siblings would be gently protected by at least someone.
The headache was almost unbearable. And the stone-cold floor did nothing to help.
Siris opened her eyes, but could not see anything. Was she in a house? Underground? A cell, perhaps? Did the templar take offense about what she said? No. Somehow, the elf knew there were no templars around. But she felt pain. Not hers. Someone else's. The urge to help invaded her being. It was almost unnatural. She tried to move. Her feet and wrists were bound by ropes, cutting and burning threw her flesh. It hurt, but the young elven woman managed to sit up. Her head was spinning in pain.
"Hello?" She said. "Is anyone here?"
No response… but a muffled noise, like cloth moving silently. Someone was here, listening, observing. But where? Siris could see nothing but thick darkness. Another noise! A panel sliding to the side. Suddenly, a stench took Siris by surprise. She coughed, trying to breath fresh air. What was that?!
"Who here?! What's going on?!" She cried.
"It was your fault, slave." A man calmly said. "All that happened was your fault. It's fine! You'll pay in due time. I'm sure you'll be of great use back in Minrathous."
"I don't know who you are, but I am not going back there!" Siris shouted.
"Really?"
Fire balls sprang from a fist and lit up the room.
Siris was in a cage on the floor, in the center of a rather small room. The man was an elder human with a grey beard, wearing a colourful robe of supreme quality. The details were tevinter-made; so much that Siris knew immediately that the man was a magister. She hated his voice, treating her like a child, daring to think she needed him to survive. Bloody magisters! All the same! But what made her even more angry was that she knew the man. He was the reason why she had to face darkspawns, why one of her brother in misery had to fled to Kirkwall.
"Danarius." She muttered.
"It's Master Danarius." He corrected like an falsely angry father.
"Fasta vass!" She shouted.
"Language!"
Siris went into a maniac laugh. Was this really happening? Was she prisoner from a tevinter nobleman again? Was he treating her like a child who needs his guidance and help? Did he dare to think that her being a slave was natural?
"My dear friend put you in his will, it was only natural for me to track you down, since your body was never found. I was about to give up when an elf tried to sell to one of my men a very pretty necklace. The very same necklace I gave to one of my friend's daughters. The elf was very cooperative… not the others, however."
Denarius pushed a curtain. Siris immediately emptied her stomach on the floor.
Three forms were handing from the ceiling. The bodies covered in blood. Flies and worms already at work. Siris knew them. The gentle Shala had her eyes removed, her chest cut, her legs ripped off by beasts. The kind Garon with his intestine on the ground threw a large cut. And the poor innocent Kala, their daughter, her head handing on a chain next to her body.
Siris screamed out of pain, crying and praying. She cursed Danarius, nobility and Tevinter in every language she knew. She weeped and asked for forgiveness. Why? For being good, for wanting to help, Garon, Shala and Kala suffered a fate worse than death.
"Now, now. No need to be so rude." Danarius casually said. "They had what they deserved, keeping you from me."
"Is that so?"
The voice was deep and shaking with pure rage. Siris looked up. A white-hair elf was standing at the door, weapon in hand.
"Fenris!" She cried.
"Two slaves for once. The Maker smiles on me today."
"Don't push your luck, magister." Hawke said, from another entrance.
She was standing with her staff in hand, ready for battle. She was disgusted and sad; but determined to put an end to all the cruelty.
"Surrender. Face Kirkwall's justice." She said.
"I am a Magister from Tevinter. I do not answer to southern filth!" Danarius shouted, his hands lighting up with fire.
But the magic disappeared, and the magister panicked.
"What the…"
Suddenly, the mage got hit by an unknown shining blue force. But Fenris was still at the door! How could this be possible? It was so fast Siris could not follow. Then, Danarius got pin down on the floor with a sword in his shoulder. A templar, dominating the magister with a sinister silence. Siris could see the Knight-Captain Cullen shaking out of rage. Could he be that fast? That powerful? His eyes and skin had blue lights coming out… Was that the power of Lyrium? Siris never saw any Templars in Tevinter being like that.
"Making you Tranquil would be a punishment far too kind for you." He muttered, his voice darkened by disgust and rage.
He twisted his sword, the man screamed out of pain. But the Templar let him alone.
"I cannot let citizens do their own justice." He said. "Unfortunately, I was too busy freeing the hostage to notice the mage beheading himself with a great sword."
Fenris had a twisted smile. Siris could only see Hawke closing her eyes, as a sinister squishing and cracking noises followed the templar's words.
Knight-Captain broke the lock and took Siris out of the cage. In his arms, she was ridiculously small. She was crying, and shaking; completely in chock. She heard him asking the Champion to take the commands of the mission; while he exited the room. There were many templars running around the house. Some were gently escorting innocent elves and humans out, others were caring dead bodies, others were forcing criminals to submission. A nest. That's what it was. A nest full of slavers and malificars, holding prisoners to sell them or bleed them. They killed Geron and his family to get to her; those sick bastards.
But carried by the human templar, Siris couldn't feel afraid anymore. In fact, she could not feel anything, anymore. Except... Except this unnatural energy flowing in the templar's body. Lyrium. It was alive, yet discreet. In those arms, Siris felt in security. Sunlight hurt her eyes when they reached the outside. Many curious were trying to look at what was going on, but the city-guards were keeping them away. Chantry sisters were singing the Chant of Light for those who were no more, and those who survived.
The Knight-Captain brought Siris away from all of this. He carried her to a house nearby, requisitioned by the Templars for the mission. In one of the rooms, he sat Siris in an armchair. They were in Hightown, the chair was too comfortable to be from Lowtown. Cullen put a knee down and started to cut the ropes around Siris' ankles with his knife. He then moved to her wrists. The human remained silent, but he wanted to say something. Siris could not use her voice, or her brain. She was in shock.
"You were right." He finally said, sitting on a chair next to her. "We failed you. Your friends from the alienage were abducted, but survive. They are with the healers. And the malificar you mentioned was working with other blood mages and slavers. There was a network of sickening crimes happening right under our noses and we saw nothing."
"How did you… How did you find us?" Siris managed to say, her eyes, previously looking at an invisible spot in the room, slowly turn to the human.
Siris' eyes stayed a moment on the Order's symbole on the templar's armor, but looked up to meet Cullen's eyes. Lively brown, yet tired. Physically? Mentally too... Siris sighed. She couldn't think straight sentence.
The Templar stood up to take a cover and put it around the small elf's shoulder.
"The Champion had you under surveillance." He said, while serving a cup of warm tea. "When they knew what happened, they called us and the guards. I know it's… inappropriate to say it now but… You allowed us to stop these monsters."
It was a poor consolation. Siris could not hear these words and feel victorious. She waited in that empty room for a long time. Knight-Captain Cullen asked her to stay there until he comes back from his duties. Later, he brought her to the chantry which was sheltering all the victims found in the slavers' house. Then again, the young elf ended up in an empty room, in a bed, in warm, dry and clean clothes who belong to a chantry sister. She could not eat. The pictures her memories sent her were too clear, too recent. Sometimes, Siris felt sick and vomited.
She stayed a week in that room. She did not want to hear, or see, or feel. She wanted silence. But she could feel pain, despair; not hers, but others'. It was from the victims, the Templars, Fenris, the sick and injured sheltered by the Chantry, Cullen when he came to visit her…
The Knight-Captain came as often as he could. When he couldn't, a recruit would come to check on her and report back to his commanding officer. Fenris came every day with the Champion. She appreciated the elf's presence. they shared common feelings and similar memories. However, it did not change anything for Siris. Because of her, good people were tortured and killed. If only she went back to Tevinter when she woke up after the darkspawn. If only…
During a late evening, where Siris was in bed, not sleeping or thinking, a chantry Mother named Maryse came.
Mother Maryse was a gentle soul. A human from Orlais who came to Kirkwall to offer recomfort to the ones suffering from misery. After the raid in the slavers' house, Mother Maryse spent most of her time with the victims. Sometimes chanting the Chant of Light, sometimes making conversation, sometimes tending to the wounded. But she would also come to Siris and tell her stories. Children stories with good endings. She would bring warm milk with chocolate, made sure the fire never go out. Never a human treated Siris with so much care and kindness. As a slave, the elf used to be the one doing all those things for her masters.
But that evening, Mother Maryse opened the door and looked if Siris was awake. Then, she let someone come in. The chantry mother sat down in a chair in silent, while a familiar form kneeled down on the floor, next to Siris' bed. Lady Caravel was there, gently stroking Siris' hair with a worried face. Rainier sat on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do or say.
"The Knight-Captain of Kirkwall's Circle sent word." Emma whispered with kindness. "I came I soon as I could."
Siris started to cry. A human mage interrupted everything she was doing to meet her? She reached for the woman, who hugged her with both affection and worry.
"It's alright… It's alright…" Lady Caravel slowly repeated as the elf cried in her arms. "You're alright."
Rainier gently stroked Siris' ankle, not knowing what to do. At her demand, he and Emma stayed with her during the night. Having them with her… It was too good to be true. But it was! The circle of Ostwick granted the Knight-Captain's request and sent Emma Caravel to Kirkwall; with a Knight-Lieutenant and Thom Rainier who was helping the local chantry with little things. Siris did not say a word, but listened with interest her friends' stories.
When Emma and Rainier arrived at Ostwick, they made a stop at the Circle who gladly took the mage. As thanks for helping Emma, Rainier was offered shelter until he could figure out what to do with his life. Eventually he confessed his crimes to the Grand Cleric at the city's chantry. Supportive of his wish to do better, she asked him to start building his life by helping the Chantry: doing repairs, helping the poor, lifting objects too heavy for the clerics… He was doing spectacular when the messenger caring Cullen's request arrived at the Circle. The Templars could not spare too many men, so they ask Rainier for help. Besides, he knew Siris too: she was the one who encouraged him to do something good with his life.
And here they were. Both humans tending to Siris like worried parents. This time, it was a good feeling. Not like Danarius. Danarius was unhealthy in his "care". But Rainier and Emma… they were not.
They were good.
They were the best.
I hope you enjoyed!
Next chapter: "Siris of Tevinter: Arc's Epilogue" coming soon.