Notes: Thank you as always! Big chapter this time with several points of view, so please remember—unreliable narrator!
Song: Blind Guardian – "The Great Ordeal." This particular song is about the historical Knights Templar.
Chapter 83: Soldiers of Creed
The Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux.
"My spies have confirmed it, Most Holy," Leliana said, frowning. "Weapons development continues outside Kirkwall. My informant could not get close enough to the test site to determine what they are building—I will give Caitlyn credit for this, she is very good at protecting secret intelligence—but I presume it involves the explosive that destroyed the schism's fleet."
Divine Justinia sighed. "They mean to end the war with a crushing display of power and violence that none can oppose, then."
"I fear so."
"This is not what I wanted," the Divine lamented. "I had hoped, of course, that the Viscountess would win a victory. I was pleased when she took power in Kirkwall, because she could make the changes that I could not, if I wanted to keep my position—and my life. She moved a bit fast those early years, it is true, but I thought she would serve the goal of reforming Chantry doctrine to honor all the children of the Maker." She smiled in reminiscence. "She seemed to have the personality for confrontation and fight."
"She does, and that is what I wanted too," Leliana said quietly.
The Divine rose from her chair and gazed out the window before turning back to her spymaster. "But winning this war by acts of mass destruction? Even if this weapon is not inherently magical—perhaps especially if it is not—I worry about the precedent that has now been set by its use. War may never be the same. It is a brutal business as it is, but weapons like this? This will allow for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people to be slain in a deeply impersonal way in a matter of minutes. War is sometimes necessary and just, but it is also the killing of people, and we should never forget that. These weapons will make warfare into the mechanization of mass death."
"The explosion in Kirkwall was a blast heard around the world, in a sense," Leliana said somberly. "What do you mean to do, then?"
Justinia gazed wearily at her. "It is time for the rest of the Circles to vote for independence. Let the peaceful expression of liberty end the war instead. Hawke holds a box that, once opened fully, can never be closed again. It may already be too late, but there could still be a chance."
Leliana's blue eyes widened. "But—the Seekers! What if they join the schism? Your life will be at risk!"
"It has been at risk since the day I became Divine," Justinia said heavily. "We must have contingencies in place to ensure that my work goes on even if the Maker takes me before it is complete. Here is what I hope and pray for: If the rest of the Circles vote for independence, the schism, crushed by the loss of its fleet and frightened of Kirkwall's bomb, will throw down its arms and surrender. If that does not happen..." She steeled herself. "If the Seekers join the schism and the war continues... you and Cassandra must decide who will succeed me, and you must use your skills to put pressure on the Grand Clerics and Revered Mothers to accept her. And I implore you, do not let the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall be that person. Someone like her does not need this power."
"I agree. She may have been Caitlyn's ally, but that would be a disaster."
"You know which priests can be trusted, or you could choose one of yourselves. But you must pick someone. You cannot have infighting if I go to the Maker's side before the war ends. You will need an accepted leader."
"I am not willing to cede your life just yet," Leliana said fiercely.
"And neither am I," Justinia said with a wry smile. "But only the Maker knows what the future holds, and we must be prepared for any possibility."
Tantervale.
Joffrey Orrick, Chancellor of Tantervale, was little more than a puppet of the Grand Cleric—and then of Most Holy Divine Fidelia. Sebastian Vael had never seen it as a problem that loyal priests and then the true Chantry ruled this city in all but name. But Orrick himself was not a pillar of faith, not a true partner of the priests; he was a cowardly man, and so was the advice he gave.
"I know you don't want to hear this, but we need to consider suing for peace. The breaking of the siege is a major defeat, especially how it happened." He shuddered. "Do you think they've got the Qunari gaatlok?"
"I do not know. If they do, I doubt they acquired it by espionage. No one has yet. It is something that Anders thought up himself, I suspect. At least, that priest named him the city's new Champion for it. I assume it was his idea."
Sebastian detested Anders, an arrogant upstart with a tongue he refused to control—but there was a rumor of much worse. Abomination. Years ago, Sebastian had gone to Kirkwall to try to forge peace with the new Viscountess, but only Anders was there. He had seen something when Anders was riled up enough to actually strike him, and he now believed it was a demon.
"And they could use it again. We could lose cities to it, Sebastian, especially if they also send that mage army. You need to consider a peace agreement. You might even get to use the traditional solution. Hawke's cousin isn't a mage, and Most Holy could give you a dispensation from your vows."
"No. This is not up for discussion."
Orrick suppressed his displeasure and shrugged instead. "As you say. But we need to consider dignified surrender. If you expect the Maker to intervene, consider that He didn't save Andraste. You think we're more important?"
"He saved Andraste's followers and led them to safety, where they could preserve her teachings and spread the word. He did not allow the Light to be extinguished with her death. Who, Orrick, will carry the Light if we fall?" With that, he stormed away.
None of this was supposed to have happened, Sebastian lamented. It was unfortunate that they had even come to war in the first place. Surely it would not have happened if Hawke's life had just gone a little differently. If only Anders had not found his way to her old Fereldan home years ago. Or if only he had—Maker forgive me, Sebastian thought—not been recaptured. If only she had not, apparently, befriended the so-called "Left Hand of the Divine" in Ferelden. If only she and that brutish demagogue Petrice had not met in Maker only knew what cesspit of Lowtown. But these things had happened. She had her grievance and her allies, then her power... and then war had come.
On the other hand, Sebastian supposed, perhaps the war was the Maker's way of teaching them the danger of empowering mages with secular authority, in defiance of His command. Before he had fallen firmly under Elthina's teachings—and particularly before she had become the Orthodox Divine and spoke ex cathedra—Sebastian himself might have seen little harm in apostasy, he reflected with shame. Perhaps southern Thedas needed this war to see the Maker's own truth about His will for mages. He believed he certainly had.
Hawke and Anders, and the mage army they commanded, might covet what the rest of the Maker's children had, and Sebastian could understand that—he faced temptation as well—but they should have accepted the teachings of the Chantry and accepted the place in life that the Maker had ordained for their kind, which was to serve in Circles, certainly not to rule a state. Elthina had explained it all to Sebastian clearly.
"The Maker does not place everyone in the same circumstances," she had told him. "Some are born into poverty, for a trial that the Maker wants them to face for reasons known to Him alone. Some are born into powerful families, chosen by the Maker to rule His children in the secular arena. Some are sent to the Chantry to become His ordained servants. Some are born with magic. It is not for mortals to covet what He has chosen for other mortals, and the Chantry is the institution that He has chosen to understand and explain His will." Hence, Hawke, Anders, and those who followed them were in rebellion against the Maker Himself... and so was the anti-divine who turned a blind eye to them.
But the fact remained that the apostates were winning their war. That inconvenient fact introduced a moment of doubt into Sebastian's thoughts. If this war was a lesson by the Maker, why would He let darkness win?
Hawke was no fool, but neither was she employing unheard-of genius strategies in battle that they could not even anticipate. They were simply being clobbered by superior force. It was the terrible power of magic, of course. An army of mages commanded great power—as it turned out, the power to amass spells together strong enough to sink ships. And when they worked with others, they could invent weapons better suited to the Void than to the Maker's world, like that vile substance that had destroyed the fleet.
A misgiving crossed Sebastian's mind as he thought of red lyrium. Was that not a vile substance too? But Elthina, no, Divine Fidelia, had assured him that the terrifying stories about it were all false. He wanted and tried to believe her. Still, a doubting part of him, a part that he sought to suppress, did wonder.
He pushed that aside. Whatever red lyrium did to Templars who took it, it was nothing in comparison with the monstrous weapon that the Kirkwallers had deployed against the fleet. Their explosive, the detonation of which was clearly linked to magic, seemed as menacing as the Qunari's feared gaatlok. This war has proven exactly why we needed the Circles to exist, Sebastian thought firmly. It has been too long since the great sin of the Magisters Sidereal in trying to claim the Maker's city. We have forgotten what mages are capable of when they are organized and empowered. This war has reminded us, at least.
But the apostates were winning. Sebastian hated it, he could not deny the fact. The plans to take Kirkwall had gone up in smoke. The plan to take Markham had reversed on them with the loss of their ally. Elthina's plan for a siege had been an unmitigated disaster, with the loss of most of their fleet.
We have few ships remaining, he thought. We still have Templars, including Red Templars, and some of the forces of Starkhaven and Tantervale. But we will have to be very careful now in how we use them. The classic strategy for someone who is outnumbered is to inflict death by a thousand cuts on the enemy, engaging them in many places, keeping them tied up and unable to mount a large and organized strike. But that does not work for us because they also have superior weapons. They could simply launch a magical assault, or blow our forces to the Maker's side with their bombs. The death by a thousand cuts would be ours.
What can we do? We need more people. There is no avoiding it. Now where can we get them?
"We need more allies," Sebastian said to Orrick and Elthina.
"There are no allies," Orrick said. "It's as I told you, Your Highness. We need to sue for peace, while we still can. If they attack us—and they will—they will show no mercy. Either way we lose. If we surrender honorably, we could at least ask for the chance to practice our own faith, the true faith."
Sebastian leaned forward aggressively. "That is not good enough! This was never about us, Orrick."
"Sebastian is correct," Elthina said. "This was never about our being allowed to practice the true faith. Provided that I was not called Divine, we would have been. In Tantervale, the correct interpretation of the Maker's law has long been enforced by the state, with no interference from Val Royeaux. There has also been tolerance of heresies in Thedas," she said tightly. "But this is not about our personal freedom to worship Him. It is about restricting the ability of mages to do the mass harm that this war has proven they will do. They must be sent back to their Circles, and only the faithful will do that."
"Yes, but the faithful are losing!" Sebastian exclaimed in frustration.
The Orthodox Divine regarded him calmly. "The Maker will provide for His faithful. Do not give up hope. Sebastian, do you have any thoughts on potential allies, as you mentioned?"
"What about the Anderfels? They're said to be devout."
Elthina sighed. "I have reached out to the royal house of the Anderfels, but they have rejected us. The Grey Wardens rule there in all but name, and they do not wish to get involved in a religious war."
"The Grey Wardens have long been little more than a band of polished-up brigands spared from the noose," Orrick growled. "Even before the Orthodox Chantry, most of the Wardens of Tantervale strutted about the city flaunting their 'independence' from the Chantry's law. They're ruffians in fine armor, and they have a long history of sheltering apostates and heretics."
"Precisely. The Anderfels people may be devout, but their rulers are intimidated by the Grey Wardens, and we have no influence over them."
"Very well," Sebastian said. "But one thing I don't understand is why we cannot make an alliance in Orlais. Why cede the Empire as enemy territory? Celene's rule is not stable, not by a long shot. Why can't we make an alliance with Grand Duke Gaspard? He wants to retake Ferelden. That would leave Kirkwall isolated and vulnerable."
"Gaspard still considers us to be the heretics," Elthina said tightly.
"His war against his cousin will likely come to a stalemate without powerful allies, though. It is logical for him to ally with us."
"Is it?" Elthina asked. "Gaspard is a worldly man. He commissioned a blasphemous play that defamed Andraste in order to undermine his cousin Celene. He does not seem the type to want to cede power to the Chantry if he should become Emperor, and a weak pretender-Divine in Val Royeaux suits him better. I think he fears us, Sebastian. He fears our strength and conviction, as such people always do fear the conviction of the ordained faithful."
"Nevarra?" Sebastian offered somewhat feebly. "Antiva?"
"Antiva is a hedonistic land of debauchery, drunkenness, poison, and assassins. There is nothing for us there. Nevarra might have been a possibility but for the alignment of the Pentaghasts with Justinia due to that thug who calls herself the Right Hand of the Divine."
Joffrey Orrick spoke up. "As I said, there are no more allies."
Sebastian rounded on him, then turned back to Elthina. "Listen to him. He wants to surrender. No matter that those... people... would never let you live."
Elthina regarded him with a sigh. "Your loyalty to me is touching but misguided. I do not matter, Sebastian. The faithful are what matter."
"Exactly!" Orrick said, his enthusiasm and glee nearly insupportable to Sebastian. "We have to protect our people. The enemy is ruthless."
"You are misguided too. You would prioritize protecting the bodies of some from death, which none of the Maker's faithful should fear, instead of protecting the souls of all from heretical corruption."
Sebastian burst out, "What then? Surely you have suggestions?"
Elthina smiled. "I told you both that the Maker will provide. I will remind you of that now." She gazed across the table, looking benevolent and peaceful. "We have friends in the Seekers, who have fought the good fight in the midst of heretics and enemies for several years."
Sebastian's eyes widened. "Are you saying that..."
"Lord Seeker Lambert van Reeves has long been sympathetic to us. Justinia may have suspected him, indeed she surely does, but he has had a majority of the Seeker Order with him, and she knows it. She cannot get rid of him without provoking a mass revolt. But all along, she has sought to undermine him and aid the mages, both the open rebels and those who have remained in Circles. He tells me that he thinks she intends to let the College of Magi vote for independence. She thinks that will end the war peacefully. She thinks we will surrender. More fool she. I have written to the Lord Seeker explaining to him that it is time to make a stand."
The men took that in. "If the rest of the Seekers joined, that would change things," Sebastian said. "That would give us a chance again."
"The Seekers and the remaining Templars," Elthina said. "Yes—a chance indeed. But we must use them wisely when the time comes. I shall pray for guidance. I advise you two to do the same."
Kirkwall.
When Merrill had first replaced Grace on the Mages' Council, she had not wanted to go to the Gallows. Her memories of being—however briefly—a captive in Meredith Stannard's Circle were dark and traumatic. Merrill knew that the old structure was quite different now, and that mages who lived there did so by choice and had personalized apartments in which they could live as independent adults. The assembly-banquet hall was downright pleasant. But Merrill still spent as little time there as her council duties would permit, until the traumatic memories of that dark night faded.
That process was beginning. Now, Merrill rather wished it would hurry up. The fortress held many fascinating artifacts, some of them Elvhen, despite having been a Tevinter slave prison long ago. Of course, the Tevinters had stolen and looted many ancient artifacts of her people, even if they did not know how to use them. But Merrill supposed she was nonetheless surprised that Meredith, and the long series of Templars who came before her, had not destroyed every one of these artifacts over the ages.
It was not clear to her exactly when the Sending-Stone had come to the Gallows. Perhaps it dated back to the foundation of the Andrastian Circles. Perhaps it dated back to the Tevinter Circles, though Merrill did not think the Tevinters had ever held a Circle in this place. In any case, there it was—almost forgotten, unused for ages, set aside in a closet with other arcane treasures that Meredith's Templars had apparently wanted to keep from their captives.
Merrill had brought the Sending-Stone out two months ago, delighted with the discovery of another artifact of ancient Arlathan after the utter fiasco with the eluvian several years ago. It didn't work any better than the eluvian had, but Merrill had learned her lesson and she was not going to ask any spirits for advice about what to do. She had taken the object to the other members of the Council first.
"Did no one look in the former Knight-Commander's storage room?" she had asked innocently. "It was filled with fascinating objects. This is a Sending-Stone of Arlathan."
Sketch, despite being an elf, had known nothing about it, to Merrill's great disappointment. Neither had most of the human members of the Council—with one exception. Caspar Waite, former First Enchanter of Markham, had recognized it.
"There was one of those in the Circle at Markham," he had mused, studying the artifact. "Nobody could get it to work, and trust me, my Circle was fascinated with ancient lore and really wanted to."
After they all determined that the Sending-Stone was not cursed, the Council members had not objected to Merrill's decision to keep the item herself, as none of them knew what to do with it. Merrill had kept it, studying and experimenting with it when she had the time, but she had not had a breakthrough yet. She was patient, at least.
One day in early summer, two months after she had taken the artifact to her home, Merrill had just finished her lunch when a curious humming sound and an unexpected light gleamed from the corner. Her eyes widened with shock.
A message? Someone else got another one working and is trying to communicate with me? But who?
She hurried to the elven Sending-Stone to find out.
Later.
Merrill and the other members of the Mages' Council faced Caitlyn and Anders gravely. Although Petra was nominally the head, she pushed Merrill forward, as the Dalish elf had been the one to receive the news first.
"About two months ago, I found a Sending-Stone of ancient Arlathan in the Gallows," Merrill began. At the look of alarm and disapproval on Caitlyn's face, she instantly added, "The Council determined that there was no curse upon it—and I have not asked any spirits for help this time!"
Anders and Caitlyn relaxed, but only a bit. "Yet you're here," Caitlyn said, a nervous edge to her voice, "and all the Council with you. Something must have happened."
"Yes, something has happened," Merrill said. "But nothing... bad." She hesitated. "I received a message through the stone."
Anders frowned in confusion. "You repaired it and someone else got through?"
"No," she said, "I didn't repair it. I did nothing to it. I do not think it was ever broken. I think it was just silent because no one knew how to use them."
Caspar Waite interjected. "The Circle at Markham had one. As First Enchanter, I had access to it. Ours never worked either. I heard that all the Circles might have one, but I don't know if that's true. Obviously Kirkwall did, of course."
Anders and Caitlyn exchanged alarmed glances at this information. That means that whatever message was sent might also have gone to Tantervale and Starkhaven, Caitlyn thought in a panic. She turned to Merrill, trying to control her fear until she knew more. "What was the message, and who sent it? If you know?" she added.
"The message came from the Montsimmard Circle of Orlais, sent by a mage named Wynne and a golem named Shale," Merrill said, frowning in thought.
Anders gasped. "Wynne!"
"The message said that the researchers at Adamant Fortress have found a way to reverse the Rite of Tranquility," Merrill said. Her voice wavered. "And that this message has been sent to every Circle in southern Thedas."
Despite the good news of the research, Caitlyn's heart sank. "Including Starkhaven and Tantervale—and the empty Circle at Hasmal?" she asked.
"I... suppose so."
Caitlyn closed her eyes momentarily. Damn! I really hope not. I hope that whichever person sent it had the sense not to send it to those Circles... but they probably did. They probably considered the "right of all mages to know this good news" or some such thing ahead of the needs of the war. Those Circles are held by the enemy. This is not good.
Anders knew that Caitlyn was worried about the security angle, and he worried about it too, but his thoughts were primarily fixed upon another point. I'm sorry, Karl, he thought in anguish. A dark memory of nearly nine years ago filled his mind. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time—no, the only thing I could do—but would you have wanted death if you had known that, nine years later, there was a chance for you?
Maybe you did know there was a chance, he reflected miserably, reliving the awful memory. You knew that it brought back some of your emotions to be near Justice. That has to be what the mages have found at Adamant Fortress, that spirits of the Fade can restore the sundered connection.
Did you know, Karl? Did you know and you chose death freely?
He wanted to cry—for Karl, for the Tranquil sister of the deceased Mistress Selby, for Caitlyn's late second cousin and his girlfriend, for all the mages through the years who had been destroyed by this appalling, blasphemous act.
It ends now, he resolved. He raised his head to face his wife, their friend, and the other members of the Mages' Council.
"Shale and Wynne sent this message to the First Enchanters for a reason," he finally said. "They wanted them to know it... and the message has come through them, rather than from Divine Justinia, for a reason too." His gaze hardened. "Justinia was trying to keep it from them, I would bet."
Petra and Alain raised their eyebrows in surprise that he would say this, but Caitlyn took his hand in support and agreement. The other members of the Council looked wearily cynical about his conclusion.
Caitlyn faced her friends, her allies, her beloved husband, with steely resolve in her green eyes. "I agree with him. But events have outrun Divine Justinia and the status quo that she wants to stand for. The conclusion of this research and the development of weapons that will win the war."
The Council members, who were not in the know about the rockets, raised their eyebrows at this. "We did hear that the Glavonaks were at work on something groundbreaking..." Alain ventured.
"With me," Anders confirmed, "and we've had a breakthrough." He smiled darkly. "It sounds like our fellow mages in Orlais have too."
"I don't like that it was likely sent to enemy-controlled Circles," Caitlyn said, "but we must be prepared for repercussions of that. The war goes on... and if I were a bettor, I'd bet that we're about to receive a lot more allies. But also a lot more enemies."
Elthina's intelligence about forthcoming Seeker and Templar allies for the schism was not mistaken. Within a few weeks of her discussion with Sebastian and Orrick, copies of this letter were making the rounds of every chantry, head of state's palace, and high noble's keep in southern Thedas.
.
Justinia, or should I say Dorothea,
The Seekers are well aware of the part you played in the rebellion. You call me to the Grand Cathedral in the middle of the night on "urgent" business only to speak of trivial matters? And then, when I return to the White Spire, I discover chaos... and one of your agents in the midst of the apostates.
Did you think I would not notice? Did you believe yourself above repercussions for such acts, even in the face of a declared schism? It was a dark day when the Chantry placed you upon the Sunburst Throne. I saw what you were when you claimed "holy inspiration" to defend the apostates in Kirkwall after they murdered a loyal Knight-Commander. Nay, I saw when you did not dispatch an Exalted March to remove them as soon as they usurped a crown.
But your loyalties are now beyond dispute, and they are not to Our Lady Andraste. My brethren and sisters in the north are correct. You are a heretic and an anti-divine, and the true leader of the faithful is Most Holy Divine Fidelia in Tantervale. I will not stay idle and watch you destroy what ages of tradition and righteousness have built. It is clear what must be done.
In the twentieth year of the Divine Age, the Nevarran Accord was signed. The Seekers of Truth lowered our banner and agreed to serve as the Chantry's right hand, and together we created the Circle of Magi. With the Circle no more, I hereby declare the Accord null and void. Neither the Seekers of Truth nor the Templar Order recognize you as our authority, and instead we will perform the Maker's work under a new agreement, as befits a new Chantry headed by the true Successor to the Sunburst Throne.
Signed this 23rd day of Molioris in the fortieth year of the Dragon Age,
Lord Seeker Lambert van Reeves
.
A rumor accompanied this letter, namely that many of the mages who had not yet joined Viscountess Hawke's Free Mages of Thedas had massed in Andoral's Reach. It was not clear which First Enchanters of which Circles were there. Those to the east might or might not have been present—to say nothing of the mages in their Circles. But there was little doubt as to the outcome. The remaining mages, all except for the Circles of Tantervale and Starkhaven, were expected to join the rebellion. Meanwhile, the vast majority of the Seekers and remaining Templars would go north to the Minanter cities of the self-styled Orthodox Chantry. The war seemed likely to be at an inflection point.
One possible outcome was that declared schismatics would triumph, not just winning independence as the Imperial Chantry had, but actually crushing the power of Val Royeaux, beginning an era of harsh dogmatism and puritanical rule from the northern Free Marches. The other was that mages would win their independence outright and destroy the Templars, Seekers, and schism, leaving Divine Justinia technically victorious but the Chantry's fighting strength—and bargaining power in treaty settlement—greatly diminished.
Either way, the Chantry as Thedas knew it was at the end of an era.
Across Thedas, in Grand Clerics' offices, monarchs' chambers, keeps, Circles, and even humble households in the Free Marches—the theater of war—everyone waited for the next piece of news. It came at last with a vengeance.
.
A Proclamation of the Orthodox Chantry by Divine Fidelia I
It is with joy and righteousness that we announce the full support of the Order of the Seekers of Truth and the Templar Order in our holy war for Our Lady Andraste.
The truth that we have proclaimed in the face of persecution and violence, that the woman Justinia, formerly Dorothea, is an anti-divine, is now proven by the Maker's hand. The mages of the Circle of Val Royeaux effected a violent rebellion, and the anti-divine assisted their escape from the rightful justice of the Seekers and Templars for such actions. Though shocking in its depravity, this deed is congruous with the anti-divine's refusal to remove a usurping apostate mage from a position of secular authority even following many provocations, crimes, and heretical acts by this apostate and her supporters.
Her Perfection Divine Fidelia I of the Orthodox Chantry reaffirms that the Sunburst Throne was vacant between the death of Most Holy Divine Beatrix III in the thirty-fourth year of the Dragon Age and the election of herself to the position in Tantervale in the thirty-seventh year of the Dragon Age. The woman Justinia is an anti-divine and a false pretender to the Sunburst Throne.
Divine Fidelia I hereby commands all Templars and Seekers to join the Orthodox Chantry in Tantervale. She declares that any persons affirmed as Seekers or Templars who proclaim loyalty to the anti-divine Justinia or the cause of the apostate so-called Viscountess of Kirkwall are rebels against their Orders.
For three years the true Chantry has fought against the forces of heresy, apostasy, and maleficarum. We have suffered great losses in our fight, further proving the malignant power of magic when it is permitted to rule over man. With the Seekers' and Templars' avowed support, we have faith that the holy war will soon come to a righteous conclusion.
I, Divine Fidelia I of the true and holy Chantry, declare ex cathedra: Deus Vult; our Maker the one true God wills it. Go forth and conquer the apostasy in His name and the name of His blessed Bride.
Kirkwall.
Things had been curiously quiet in the city, given the momentous nature of the news, both from Montsimmard and from Ironbark Ridge. It felt strange to Caitlyn, but she knew that the Ironbark team was hard at work mining blasting and propelling powder, forging rocket casings, and continuing the research and development process. She had not banned the Mages' Council from talking about the news regarding the Rite of Tranquility—or the implications of the message concerning Divine Justinia's conduct—because she guessed that the enemy either did know already or soon would, and it was better to be prepared.
Prepared for a new phase in the war, she thought, and prepared for an influx of mages from those Circles that have not yet revolted.
At last, though, a flurry of messages arrived by messenger and by raven.
Caitlyn scowled as she read the copy of Elthina's smug, self-righteous proclamation. They really hate me, she thought, perusing the paragraphs that were about herself. "A usurping apostate mage." "So-called Viscountess of Kirkwall." No, I am the Viscountess of Kirkwall. You are just the "so-called" Orthodox Divine!
But she could not focus on the insults to herself. The true substance of the message was shocking, and it confirmed her fears and expectations about the course of the war. "Deus Vult" indeed! she thought in contempt. Such arrogance! But they mean it. They are absolutely sincere.
Then the second raven came.
.
Your Grace Viscountess Hawke,
You do not know me, but Grand Enchanter Fiona of the College of Magi has tasked me to inform you of recent events. I represent the mages who have gathered at Andoral's Reach, a large and ancient fortress in northern Orlais, under Grand Enchanter Fiona's leadership. We include mages from Nevarra, the Anderfels, the White Spire, and Montsimmard, and together we number almost three thousand. This includes children and mages whose skills are not suited for battle, but a great many of us are battlemages. We conducted a rebellion, which began in the White Spire of Val Royeaux when the Lord Seeker turned on us rather than allowing word of the Tranquility-reversal research to spread. Divine Justinia, through her agent Nightingale, assisted our escape, and we—along with many others—gathered at Andoral's Reach to vote for independence.
That vote has now passed.
We also inform you that Lord Seeker Lambert has broken the Nevarran Accord between the Seekers and the Andrastian Chantry, and has sworn his order to the "Orthodox Chantry" in Tantervale.
We have not decided whether we will remain at Andoral's Reach to fight on a new front, or come to Kirkwall. Much depends on the decision of the rebel Seekers and Templars, who are unfortunately also swelled in number now with the rebellion of their own. Very few, I am sorry to inform you, remain loyal to Divine Justinia. I will inform you of our decision either way.
Sincerely,
Enchanter Lysas
.
Caitlyn folded the letter and put it into her desk drawer on top of the offensive proclamation from the Orthodox Chantry. It felt good to cover that thing up. I'll wait until Anders returns from Ironbark Ridge tonight to discuss these documents with him, she decided.
But before he returned from work, yet another message arrived, this time in the form of a person. Cullen Rutherford was admitted to the Keep, carrying a letter sent personally to him from Cassandra Pentaghast. Caitlyn managed to swallow her irritation that the Right Hand of the Divine had not, apparently, written to her. Perhaps Cassandra realized, correctly, that Caitlyn would receive word from the other mages' leaders, and that this source would be more welcome than a letter from Cassandra herself.
If so, she's correct, Caitlyn thought grouchily. Despite the fact that Justinia apparently aided the White Spire mages' escape—through Leliana, naturally—that is the bare minimum she could do, and I daresay Cassandra knows that I would see it that way. I'm not feeling particularly charitable toward Divine Justinia at the moment and it is definitely better that I heard from Enchanter Lysas instead. She tried to suppress her annoyance as Cullen addressed her.
"I've been recalled to Val Royeaux," the Templar—or former Templar?—said. "Or... summoned, I suppose I should say, since I've never actually been there. The Right Hand of the Divine wants me there."
Caitlyn regarded him loftily. "Did she give an explanation of why? Of course, I have no authority to keep you here," she added. "But Cassandra Pentaghast did not tell me anything, so I am admittedly interested in knowing."
"Of course," he agreed. "She isn't very specific, though. She just says that I am needed to 'confer with Divine Justinia about the path forward.'"
Caitlyn's gaze narrowed. "You are to remember that everything you heard on the War Council is privileged intelligence information for Kirkwall. Most of it is obsolete now, of course, but Divine Justinia is still not entitled to know it." She was extremely glad that she had not brought him, or anyone, into the secret of the rockets. The Glavonaks were keeping security tight at their grounds, and Anders' lips were sealed. He understood the gravity of the work.
Cullen grimaced. "I... understand." He handed her the note apologetically. "You can see for yourself, Your Grace. Seeker Cassandra also writes that part of the point of the White Spire... operation... was to get Seeker Lambert to declare his true loyalties."
Keeping a regal mask of a frown on her face, Caitlyn read the letter.
.
...Divine Justinia had figured out that he was an agent for the schism, but she could not prove it beyond dispute, so she engineered a situation that would get the White Spire mages out while also provoking him to expose his loyalties. Her Perfection admits that she did not expect this many Seekers and Templars to be disloyal, and it is something of a problem. We currently estimate that the only loyal Templars and Seekers remaining are those who have stayed in Val Royeaux, the handful in Kirkwall, and isolated numbers here and there. Easily ninety percent of both Orders have rebelled and joined the heretics instead.
I cannot mince words or sugarcoat this. This is a serious blow to Divine Justinia's cause. It appears increasingly likely that Most Holy will have to treat with the rebel mages as a supplicant rather than an equal partner, and that is the good outcome. The many bad outcomes do not bear mentioning.
.
Caitlyn tried to keep flames from escaping her palms or steam from pouring out her ears. So! she thought furiously. It's exactly as I always thought. Justinia just wanted me to do her dirty work for her. She wanted me to do the fighting, be the confrontational and aggressive one, get the bad reputation, be sacrificed if needed—and then she would swoop in after I had bloodied myself and oh-so-magnanimously change doctrine. "Equal partner" my arse! Justinia may have been the best ally we could realistically have, but she uses people. She used Leliana... she used the White Spire mages... and she used me.
Well, this tool got away from you, Justinia. You, like so many others, forgot that mages are people, and that means we have agency and brains, not just magic. We're not just walking weapons; we are people who can do the same things other people do. And we have. We are going to win this war and we don't need you. You certainly will be treating with us as a supplicant.
She managed to subdue her anger enough to face Cullen with a blank face. "I see," she said tonelessly. "You must go, then, of course. Ninety percent of Templars and Seekers joining the schism... That is dire news."
Cullen nodded. "It's disgusting!" he burst out suddenly. "We found a place for ourselves even here in Kirkwall, under the new order! We found things that we can do, providing support against slaver mages that nobody else can. There could still have been a place for us even in the... the new world," he fumbled, remembering to whom he was speaking. "But instead of adapting, almost all of my fellow Templars—and Seekers—chose to turn heretic so that they could kill mages with the blessing of someone who claims to be a Divine. It's shameful!"
"I agree, of course," Caitlyn said, glad that he had focused on this aspect of the letter instead of Cassandra's words about Justinia and the rebel mages. "Perhaps you can tell the other Templars and Seekers in Val Royeaux what we have been doing here, to give them hope, so they don't join the schism too."
He nodded again. "I shall do that, Your Grace."
"As Viscountess of Kirkwall, I must ask that you let me make a copy of the letter from Cassandra," she said. "I don't intend to show it to anyone but Anders, but he does need to know precisely what she said."
Cullen looked reluctant to allow this, but he would not refuse the direct order, and he had shown it to Caitlyn anyway. He handed it to her again. She took out a sheet of paper and immediately began writing a copy for herself. Fortunately it was not a long note. She motioned for him to remain in the office as she wrote. He stood by silently and awkwardly as she worked.
Something else occurred to Caitlyn as she finished transcribing the letter. "Tell Lady Charade goodbye before you go. And promise to write to her." She handed the original back to him and put her own copy into her desk drawer.
"I will."
At last, Anders came in dusty and pleased again. The work on the rockets had taken on a new urgency since the message from Shale and Wynne about the Rite of Tranquility, and the news that Caitlyn had received today from the "Orthodox Chantry" proclamation, Enchanter Lysas's letter, and Cullen's letter validated to Anders the amount of time he was spending on this.
He read the messages almost silently, scoffing and sneering at Elthina's, then scowling again at some of Cassandra's statements. Caitlyn was sure they were the exact ones that had so provoked her own anger.
Finally he was finished. He handed the three documents back to her. "Well," he remarked, a cocky, rather snide smirk on his face, "Justinia has just lost any right to criticize us for our decisions blowing up in our faces violently."
In spite of everything, Caitlyn laughed, but it was a dark laugh. "I guess so! I remember that decree she sent after we killed Meredith. She 'declared her disapproval of the violence' or some such—as if we had a choice by then! Meredith had taken Mal! We tried to play politics, but the enemy would not let us do it in peace. They opposed the reforms, no matter what methods we used to achieve them. Justinia has finally seen that for herself."
"Tried to draw Lord Seeker Lambert out!" Anders scoffed. "She knew all along what he was, because it was bloody obvious, but she risked the life of every mage in the White Spire to prove it."
"That occurred to me too. She has used Leliana, she used those mages, and Anders... she used us."
"I know."
"She won't be using us any longer. She's lost her forces now. Ninety percent. She's a nonentity in this war now. It's between us and them," she snarled, "as it always was fated to be."
They both fell silent after that, taking in the news, before Anders spoke again. He was less angry, but more fearful.
"I hope the rest of the rebel mages do come to Kirkwall," he said, picking up Enchanter Lysas's letter again for a second perusal. "Why Andoral's Reach? That's the middle of nowhere." He studied the letter. "And Enchanter Lysas says nothing about Antiva City, Ansburg, Ostwick, or Dairsmuid's Circles."
"Well, Dairsmuid is already allied with us," Caitlyn pointed out, "and arguably it makes little sense for mages to travel from Antiva or the Free Marches all the way to that fortress. Those mages might be coming directly to Kirkwall."
"That would make more sense," he agreed. "I hope so."
"I'll write to this Grand Enchanter Fiona," Caitlyn resolved. "I'll invite her to bring her army here. We've had a thriving community of mages and a successful, well-trained and organized mage army, for three years. Her forces wouldn't likely know anything about military discipline or necessarily even how to live normal lives. We can help them integrate here. I don't know what they think is going to happen at Andoral's Reach, why they imagine the rebel Seekers and Templars would go there to fight a battle instead of staying in the Free Marches as they have done since the beginning of the war."
"And the other Circles...?"
She considered. "I'll wait for them. They are surely coming here directly."
The Ostwick Circle of Magi.
Enchanter Max Trevelyan eavesdropped at the door as the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander spoke of the letter they had just received.
"We have resisted involvement in this war so far," the Templar said. "Nothing good will come of getting involved, especially now."
"You don't think that we should come to the defense of Divine Justinia? She has lost almost all the Templars, Seekers, and Circle mages, if this is true."
Max had heard a rumor that his long-dead sister's daughter lived in Kirkwall—with relatives of Viscountess Hawke, at that. He wanted to meet her, and if this Circle finally joined the rebellion, he might get to do that. He held his breath.
"Yes, she has—but that is exactly why we must not involve ourselves in this war. We wouldn't be defending Divine Justinia's person; we would be putting ourselves under the command of that... Hawke." He uttered the name with distaste, and Max's heart sank at that tone. "While the rebels on both sides fight each other, they cannot protect her. We will remain loyal."
"Are we going to Orlais, then?"
"I think that, instead, we should offer sanctuary to the Divine. Orlais is in turmoil. We don't want to be made to fight a civil war for either side, and we will if we go there. Celene or Gaspard's army will make us hostages."
"Justinia will not leave Orlais. At this point, that's as good as abdicating."
"Then she will have made her own bed. Frankly, between us, I'm afraid she already has. If she wanted to make reforms, fine, but she shouldn't have let anyone intimidate her out of doing it the way she wanted. She has lost the confidence of everyone now. All of Thedas sees who the real leaders are in this: the schismatic heretics and that rebel apostate couple in Kirkwall."
"I pray you are wrong. This won't end well for the Divine otherwise."
Max despaired as he heard the sound of ripping paper and realized that they were tearing up the letter.
Andoral's Reach.
Grand Enchanter Fiona stared at the top of the desk that she'd had moved into the office that had once belonged to the lord of Andoral's Reach. The news, sent by the First Enchanters of Ansburg and Antiva City, was supposed to be cause for celebration and solidarity, but to Fiona it was bitter indeed.
I spent years of my life working for the cause of mage freedom! Fiona fumed privately. Thirty years. I could have been a king's mistress after the Taint left me. Or even a Queen. Maric confided to me once that he had the thought, during the rebellion, of wedding another elven woman. He was not so small-minded as many of his race. I could have lived in the lap of luxury, known love, raised a child... but I acted for the greater good of my kind, and chose instead to return to the Circle to fight the long fight for mage rights. Thirty years, untold sacrifices, the abuse of being not just a mage, but an elf—and what happened? The triumph of my hard work was all but snatched from me by that self-satisfied renegade pair of humans in Kirkwall.
They allied with a Chantry priest who burns people at the stake. They kept their precious little family together and even allowed their son to be captured by that Knight-Commander three years ago to be used as a symbol. They will never admit to it, but I'm certain they must have allowed it to happen. They sacrificed nothing. Anders has not walked the walk of leaving the Grey Wardens, as I have done; he uses his affiliation with the Hero of Ferelden—another human noble, of course—as a shield when he needs it, but when was the last time he did anything for the Warden mission? Self-righteous hypocrites, both of them. Playing at war, skirmishing now and then, but not making any real progress. They don't really know how to win a war, apparently. And that isn't even the worst of it. In her own city, Hawke has used violence and repression, even against her fellow mages, greedy and smug in her power, rather than trying to persuade them as I have done.
At this, Fiona reflected on the private correspondence that she'd had with some of those mages, the ones who were dissatisfied with Caitlyn Hawke's abuses of power and authoritarian leadership style—or, at least, the ideas that she upheld under that style of power, for some of Fiona's contacts rather agreed with the approach that the Viscountess took. A smug smirk filled her face. I will keep them on my side if it should become necessary.
And perhaps I should hope it does. This was supposed to be my triumph. I fought for it. I was returning to the Circle when Hawke and Anders were barely old enough to read. Who do they think they are to take this from me?
Fiona scowled at the letter again. The First Enchanters of Antiva and Ansburg thought I would be pleased to know that they are joining that pair of spoiled brats in Kirkwall and abandoning the true fight here at the Reach, under my leadership. Fools! What can I do now?
Word had it that an army of rebel Templars and Seekers was marching toward Tantervale. Fiona had meant to draw them here! She had brought the mage army to Andoral's Reach to provoke a battle here, a battle that they naturally would win—for how could an army of hundreds of mages under her command possibly lose such a fortress?—and show Caitlyn Hawke and Anders a thing or two about how wars were fought. But to her dismay and exasperation, the rebel Templars were not, apparently, going to give her the fight she wanted. Instead they were going to Tantervale to join the other schismatics. They were probably going to march on bloody Kirkwall again, completely ignoring and dismissing Fiona.
No. I have had enough of being shunted aside and dismissed by arrogant human nobles.
Fiona rose from her desk and stalked toward the office door to give an order. Within an hour, the mages of Andoral's Reach were gathered in the courtyard to hear their leader speak.
She smiled for a moment, relishing the sight of the assembled mages hanging on her every word as admiringly as the Senior Enchanters had done at the final conclave, in which her call for independence had at last won the vote.
"Free Mages of Thedas!" she called, her voice amplified. She knew full well that that was the name of Caitlyn Hawke's army, taken on three years ago, and she was using it for her own army in the hopes of issuing a challenge to that upstart for the rightful leadership. Hawke was a jumped-up opportunist and political schemer who had manipulated events to seize a crown. It was a claim of the schism and the anti-divine Fidelia I, so Fiona would never state it openly for fear of being accused of heresy by that pair of bloodthirsty murderers in the Kirkwall Chantry and Keep, but she agreed that Hawke and Grand Cleric Petrice had likely provoked the Qunari attack on their own city to seize power. Their hands dripped with blood, whereas in contrast, Fiona had come to power without a cloud over her legitimacy. She was the Grand Enchanter, duly elected. She was the rightful leader of the Free Mages of Thedas.
She decided to recast the news of her letter to put the First Enchanters of Ansburg and Antiva in a bad light. "You may have noticed that our fellow mages from Antiva and Ansburg are not with us!" she called out. "I have received word that they have gone to Kirkwall, to place themselves under the command of Viscountess Hawke." She paused for effect. "I have also heard that the rebellious Templars and Seekers, whom many of us fought doughtily in the attack on the White Spire, have left the Chantry to join the schism in the north. They undoubtedly see Kirkwall as a softer target than Andoral's Reach, where we stand as unified as this fortress's namesake!"
At this, self-congratulatory cheers broke out, despite that Fiona had referenced a Tevinter Old God. There were no Templars here to condemn them, after all. She relished the applause and the moment of daring, the closest that she would come to an allusion to her secret allies in Kirkwall.
As the cheers subsided, she continued, smiling. "Would they take on Kirkwall again, knowing how the siege was broken, if they didn't think they could win this time? They have always learned from their errors in the past, have they not? Hawke's followers destroy a few of their ships, so they learn to keep their distance. Warden Anders and some dwarven hirelings make an explosive, so now, no doubt, the schismatics and rebel Templars are prepared for that!" She heaved an affected, weary, rhetorical sigh. "It would seem that the enemy is too smart to take us on here at Andoral's Reach. Instead they are going to Tantervale. I wish we could end the enemy here, but instead it seems that we must go to Kirkwall to win this war for Viscountess Hawke." Fiona smirked as rumbles passed through the crowd.
"Some of you heard me say once, 'fuck the Divine.' Now I say 'fuck Hawke and Anders.'" The rumbles grew loud and shocked. Fiona held up her hand for peace and continued when the noise subsided. "I am not saying to abandon our true friends to their fate! We cannot leave fellow mages in the lurch! But the truth is, Hawke and Anders have dawdled for three years, sparring now and then, sitting at their leisure and enjoying luxury and comfort, while we were oppressed and abused in the Circles. Since they have proved themselves incapable of winning freedom for mages, we shall do it for them."
Notes: We're now at the end of the Asunder events. Everything in Asunder happened concurrently with this fic unless the AU ruled it out, with one exception: A certain major and awful event in Rivain, which has not yet occurred, is happening at a slightly different relative time compared to canon. The Lord Seeker's letter is adapted but includes a lot of the original.
Regarding the final viewpoint. I'm... not a fan of Fiona. She failed as a war leader, a leader of the free mages, and a mother—and a lot of people who trusted her (or would have, in Alistair's case) suffered for it. She also does not want to admit to her failures or see how they hurt others, unlike canon Hawke.
