"This... this was part of the prison's defences from centuries ago," Larius said quietly, gesturing at strange sigils carved at certain places on the walls – glyphs and runes that not even Anders recognised. "Old magic, unstable, dangerous. The Wardens had them neutralised."
Hawke nodded as they continued up the stairs; venturing out onto one of the broken bridges which spanned the gap between the central tower of the keep and the surrounding infrastucture, his eyes narrowed as a flash of light caught his attention. Over on one of the galleries on the other side of the chasm, Janeka's party of Wardens were fighting off a group of darkspawn.
"If Larius is right about Corypheus, we're going to have to hurry," Anders reminded him. Hawke nodded once, the turned to glance at the mage.
"How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.
"I'm holding," replied Anders evenly. "If that changes, you'll be the first to know."
As they made their way up into the next room of the keep, Larius raised a hand. "Do not touch anything! The old defences are active again. Very unpredictable, very dangerous." He turned to be sure they all understood; Anders readied his staff in his hand and nodded. He had caught the rippling tingle of old magics coming back to life from deep within himself; he knew from the momentary flare of lyrium light - and the answering singing in his own blood that called to him – that Fenris had felt and reacted to it too.
A group of dwarves suddenly burst into the room – the first ones they had seen thus far with no marks of Blight about them. "There!" cried the leader. "That's the one that Janeka wants dead!"
"Oh wonderful," remarked Hawke. "You too. You do Janeka's bidding?"
"Janeka shared knowledge of Corypheus with the Carta," the dwarf replied. "When she releases the Master, we will be rewarded."
Anders winced at the mention of Corypheus' name; pinching the bridge of his nose briefly, he fought back down the whispering in his mind, quelling it. The lyrium potions couldn't hold Corypheus at bay forever, but he daren't take another so soon. He'd been pushing it with the bittersweet blue liquid as it was; he was already skirting closer than he liked to poisoning himself with the stuff. It was a two-edged blade; it gave, in terms of mana and restoration, but it took so much more in claims upon his health – and he needed all of that he could get if he were to remain useful to the others.
"Turn back, and I'll spare you," replied Hawke. He somehow doubted the Carta dwarves would go for it, but he had to try.
"There is no turning back!" replied the dwarf, glancing curiously to one side tat a nearby pillar hen back to the warrior. "We may die here, but we will take you with us."
"No, don't!" exclaimed Larius as the dwarf lashed out at a torch sconce and the whole pillar began to rotate, as did others in the room as a sound of creaking rusty gears set in motion after too long motionless filled the air. Then the pillars fell motionless, and the companions stared about themselves uneasily, wondering what effect the trap's activation had wrought.
"To arms, and pray that Corypheus honours our sacrifice!" roared the dwarf as he and his cohorts flung themselves forward, weapons at the ready.
They wasted no further words but instead took the dwarves down swiftly and mercilessly. As they stared around, Hawke suddenly realised the doors to the chamber appeared to be closed by glowing golden walls of flaming energy that barred their way back. Well, that answered that little question then
"Trapped! Carta fools, always where they shouldn't be," grumbled Larius. "This shouldn't have happened!"
"'Don't touch anything' is usually an invitation to touch everything; didn't you know?" teased Hawke.
Larius shook his head. "Always a punishment for playing with things you don't understand," replied the former Warden. He shook his head with a look of irritation, and it suddenly struck Anders just how much more... human the old Warden seemed, compared to his earlier appearances. He still shuffled with that strange lop-sided gait, but his speech didn't seem quite so idiosyncratic – there was more human emotion in his voice.
Proximity to humans is reminding him of his own humanity.
Anders tilted his head on one side; Justice was sounding more himself too. He glanced briefly to one side and noted Fenris lurking nearby, close enough to touch him if the elf had so wished. Ah. Fenris lifted an eyebrow in silent query; Anders gave him a reassuring smile then turned back to concentrate on what Larius was saying.
"There is a way," he was explaining. "Deep down, a small memory – a fading thought; I've been here before." He looked around slowly. "Yes, yes... Think." He tapped his right temple with a gloved forefinger thoughtfully. "There must be a way. I've been here before, a long time ago." He turned back to them, his Blighted eyes seeking out Anders. "The magic, it flows in streams. They must be joined for the way to open."
Anders pushed forward past Hawke and Carver as his eyes flicked to the coruscating amber glow of energies that filled each of the doorways to the room, already reaching out with his senses to assess the magic's flow.
"Anders?" asked Hawke; Varric shushed him with a warning pat on the arm as the mage walked over to each portal in turn, lifting a hand to hover perhaps an inch or two away from the flickering energies as he let his mage's senses sink into the portal, feeling the way the magic flowed.
Then frowning in thought, he made his way from pillar to pillar, examining the iron ring mounted upon each at head height; at first glance they merely appeared to be ornamental torch brackets, but they'd seen the Carta dwarf turn the bracket to trip the trap to begin with. He investigated each one quietly, not touching. Then he made his way back to the first one, nearest the door they had entered.
Slinging his staff onto his back, he reached up with both hands and grasped the ring firmly.
"If I'm right, turning this will draw out the stream of magic from this portal," he said quietly.
"And if you're wrong?" asked Hawke.
"Flash-fried mage, I'm guessing," replied Anders with a wry grin. He abruptly tensed his muscles; hawke leapt forward with a hand outstretched. "No, wait!" he cried, but it was too late; with a grunt of effort, Anders managed to turn the ring through a full ninety degrees, and a glowing bar of energy was drawn out from the centre of the portal to gather and swirl about the ring, flickering and dancing over Anders' fingers upon the iron ring. He gasped faintly at the touch of the energy; it was far different to his own magic – older, more alien, and yet there was something almost familiar to it. He pulled his hands away, shaking them to get the tingling out of his fingers.
"Are you all right?" demanded Hawke.
"Fine – just a little tingly," replied Anders absently. He turned to glance at the other pillars thoughtfully. "It's like a form of logic puzzle," he said slowly. "I'm guessing we have to find the right sequence of turns to make the magic form a continuous unbroken line from one portal to the other. Look, see the bottom set of rings has only two torches set at right angles to each other? It flows in through one torch, and I'll wager it flows out through the other."
"Yes, yes – you have the way of it!" agreed Larius.
Anders walked around the room, studying the other pillars. "Carver, that one there – give the ring two pulls to the left." As the Warden wordlessly did as he was told, Anders gestured to the next pillar. "Hawke, that one a single turn to the right."
Hawke nodded and moved to the pillar as Fenris stepped forward towards the next pillar. Anders nodded to him. "Three right." He glanced back to Carver. "Now that one there – one left."
They moved around the large room, lining up the pillar rings at Anders' directions. The golden energy slowly streamed across the room until it formed one long continuous stream from one side of the room to the other; and suddenly the energies shifted colour from gold to a grey-silver that crept along the stream until it was completely grey then dissipated.
"It worked!" said Larius, rubbing his hands together and almost smiling. "Quickly now – we still have a ways to go yet!" They followed him out of the room onto the balcony that ran around the outside of the tower at each level. "The Hawke was fascinated by the old construction," mused Larius as he noticed Hawke staring at the strange ornamentation upon the walls, walking over to look over Anders' shoulder as the mage trailed a hand over the raised bas relief shapes. "Always stopping to examine the carvings. A learned man." Hawke and Anders exchanged glances.
"You knew my father then? You were here?"
Larius nodded. "Down here for weeks, working together." He shook his head. "Too much bad magic. Darkness. Untainted he was, and yet I fear we tainted him nonetheless. Not in the blood. The heart. The taint of the heart, so much worse than even I could fear, and yet, and yet..." He stared at Hawke, then shook his head, moving on ahead.
They moved on and up through the tower, disturbing another party of Carta dwarves along the way; by now, dealing with them was becoming almost routine. Larius joined them in battle, the blade of his sword not as tarnished as his armour – whatever the state of his Blighted mind, he was certainly still capable of caring for his blade.
As Hawke pushed open the door to another room on the upper floor, Janeka pushed herself away from the pillar she was lounging against.
"Did you really think those old wards would stop me?" she asked as she took a handful of steps towards them, glaring balefully at Larius. "Look at you! Barely able to string two thoughts together. You've only made it this far because of Hawke."
"You can still turn away," Larius urged her. "Do not listen to his voice!"
"You're a fool, Larius," Janeka sneered. "You should have died here years ago." Unslinging her staff, she twirled it around to slam the iron-shod point down upon the cracked stones, calling up fiercely crackling energies that licked and danced over her body as she raised the power before unleashing a lightning blast at the undead Warden.
Even as she was drawing upon her magic, Anders was already reaching within, channelling his own defensive magics defensively and calling forth a whirling circle of cool green-blue healing, protective magics. Even as Janeka unleashed her lightning bolt, Anders was gesturing and the companions and Larius were suffused by the gentle blue wash of spirit healing that bathed them in protective light, dissipating the blast harmlessly.
Janeka's eyes widened in outrage even as Anders straightened and mockingly saluted her, twirling his staff with a not-strictly-necessary flourish and a grin. It had been far too long since he found himself in magical combat against someone near his level. It was exhilarating, though he mentally cautioned himself against getting too cocky or enjoying it too much. They were here for a reason, after all.
The smile slipped a little as Janeka called up a revenant that narrowed its eyes as it glared at the group. "Now you're just getting spiteful," he murmured as four emissaries stepped out of the shadows to join it. He was still keeping up the healing shield, his mind caught up as much in the feeling of blood pulsing through the bodies of his companions, the breath in their lungs, the beating of their hearts, the surge of adrenaline through their bodies as they readied for combat and moved to engage the emissaries as it was in awareness of Janeka and the revenant. She knew as well as he that as long as he was protecting his companions like this that he was unable to cast any of his usual repertoire of damaging spells – he was, in effect, helpless, surrendering his ability to defend or go on the offence in favour of protecting and healing his friends.
What she wasn't aware of was the presence of Justice within him – or his own not inconsiderable powers of endurance, tempered and strengthened by his Grey Warden training. Janeka was a Grey Warden too – but she didn't spend nearly every waking moment healing others and pushing her own endurance and reserve levels on a daily basis. He knew exactly where his limits lay... and just how far past them he could push himself. He smiled grimly as he raised a defensive shield against her onslaught, not dropping the healing aura that bathed his companions in its radiance.
The revenant moved to strike against him, but suddenly Fenris was at his side, sword slashing, the elf a glowing, deadly graceful lyrium ghost, talons shredding the revenant's very essence as much as its physical form. Anders was so completely attuned to the forms of his companions that he was already extending his healing powers and healing the elf's wounds almost exactly as the revenant dealt them, the skin healing unscathed behind the path of the cuts and lacerations of the creature's raking talons.
Varric. He didn't know if the internal voice was his own or that of Justice, but already he was reaching to heal the burn that rolled up across the dwarf's right arm and shoulder, scorching the side of his neck and face even as Varric cried out, "I could use a little hand over here!"
One emissary had already fallen, behind and to Anders' left; he was aware of attacks from the one behind and to his right ceasing as Carver sprinted past him to join the dwarf even as Hawke dealt the final blow to the one immediately to his left. Varric wasn't faring too well, but with Carver backing him up the battle soon started to go their way.
Larius was more than holding his own against the creatures; to Anders' surprise, even as far gone to the taint as the former Warden Commander was, the mage's healing could still affect him, closing wounds – it was almost as though the taint within his blood were somehow embracing the healing magic, taking it in and restoring the old body, though Anders could feel that some damage was old, untreatable – the near-crippling break in the head of one femur that had healed incompletely but would never heal straight, the worn rough surfaces of Larius' joints where the bone's surface had worn away through sheer length of use, making the old joints swollen and painful.
Anders was astounded at the amount of lingering pain that Larius must endure on a daily basis, with no prospect of it ever ending or easing until death would finally claim him – and yet still the former Warden fought on as skilfully as any of them. The apostate regarded him with new eyes; Larius must have been a formidable warrior in his prime, before the Calling steadily reduced him to this shambling creature. It made the whole prospect of what had happened to him all the more horrifying.
Anders turned his attention back to matters at hand, narrowing his eyes at Janeka as she slowly withdrew even as the revenant advanced towards the mage.
"Leaving so soon, Janeka?" he called, his voice ringing out high and clear above the noise of the melee. She turned and fled as he span his staff to block the revenant's blow; he may not be able to cast offensive spells whilst engaged in projecting the healing aura, but that didn't mean he was completely helpless. Certainly not with Fenris by his side.
As the revenant fell, Anders didn't need to ask if anyone needed healing; he could already feel their wounds and hurts, like ghost pain overlaid upon his own body. Holding his staff upright in both hands, the point grounded upon the stones as he centred himself, he gently reached out through the magic to close their wounds and relieve their pain. Faint sighs of relief surrounded him as he opened his eyes again.
"Janeka's gone," he told them. "We'd best follow after."
Hawke nodded, and gestured to Larius to precede him. He blinked in surprise as Anders moved up to walk alongside the old Warden rather than lingering back behind the two brothers. He exchanged a glance with Fenris who shrugged and swung into step behind Carver, alongside Varric who was scowling at the stock of Bianca, who hadn't been the recipient of Anders' healing spell and was looking a little singed around the barrel and trigger mechanism.
"My thanks for your healing, young one," said Larius quietly.
"It was the least I could do," replied Anders quietly. "I'm only sorry I can't do more for you."
"Do not concern yourself over my old bones," the old Warden smiled briefly. "After so long, I am used to its protests and aches."
"You still feel pain then?" asked Anders curiously. "Forgive me – I've never met a Warden after their Calling before."
"Yes, yes," the Warden nodded. "I can still feel pain. And hope, and fear. All the human emotions and senses; they are not denied to me, even though I am dead."
"That's..." Anders shook his head. "That's horrific. How do you..."
Larius shrugged. "It is all I have known since before you were born, youngling," he replied, regarding the mage enigmatically with his milky-white Blighted eyes. "Do not trouble yourself over my fate. Your own Calling is far off yet; you hear his voice but the taint..." Larius shook his head. "There is more of the taint in your blood than in his -" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Carver, "but still, the Deep Roads shall not claim you yet." He shook his head and limped on ahead. "Not yet... not yet... but still he calls, he calls, never still, never silent..."
Anders shivered, dropping back slightly to walk beside Carver.
"Well, that was comforting," remarked Carver dryly.
"In a way, it is," replied Anders absently. "At least now we know the worst that can happen."
"And that comforts you?" exclaimed Carver in surprise. Anders merely grinned unpleasantly.
"There are much worse fates out there, Carver. Tranquility for one. I'd sooner embrace Larius' fate than let a templar do that to me."
"Not something I've ever had to worry about for myself," replied Carver.
"No,I don't suppose you have," replied Anders. "It's hard to empathise with someone's loss when you haven't got anything to lose, isn't it?"
Head lowered, Anders strode on a little ahead, a couple of paces behind Larius. Carver watched him go, and this time it was the young Warden's turn to shiver.
"I don't know what you see in him, Garrett," he muttered to his brother. "Not exactly cheery company, is he?"
"He has his moments," replied Hawke with a fond smile.
They followed Larius out through a side passage, emerging into what appeared to be a different part of the Vinmark Chasm, near the top of the cliffs. Stone ramparts to their left walled off a sheer drop of a good two hundred feet or more down to the stone floor of the chasm below, by the base of a tower. As Larius guided them towards a narrow stone bridge that spanned the gulf between the cliff wall and the top chamber of the tower, Varric glanced around.
"Oh, that's nice," he said appreciatively.
"What's so nice about it?" asked Hawke.
"Oh, I was just wondering what someplace sinister and foreboding would look like," replied Varric affably. "Y'know – for inspirational purposes. And look, here it is."
Hawke regarded him with amusement. "You're working out how to write this in your head, aren't you?"
"Always, Hawke – always."
Hawke grinned and shook his head, then moved to take the lead, striding out onto the ancient stones of the bridge.
The top chamber of the tower appeared to be one vast chamber, the round dais of the final seal in the exact centre. Large statues of guardian griffons stood at the compass points by small balconied alcoves off the main chamber at the compass points. The chamber was lit by flickering torches that stood around the seal, casting dancing shadows around the vast room. The chamber appeared empty, deserted – but then one of the shadows moved, and Janeka stepped out of the shadows with a cold smile.
"You're too late, Larius," she said.