Epilogue: Questions

"...can't believe the sorts of things I've found in this place. Did you know that there are hidden messages about how to summon a demon etched under the third desk on the left? It doesn't use mana or anything, just a pre-drawn circle."

Felicity hummed acknowledgement as Dagna's words washed over her, the human scanning the spines of the books. There had to be something here on the Wardens. The Order was old enough for it.

"Not that I'd ever try it myself, of course, but it does have some interesting implications, don't you think? What if there are other summoning circles around Thedas, which can just poke a hole in the Fade if someone knows the right words to speak?"

Felicity glanced down at the dwarf... and, being on the top rung of the ladder so as to reach the library's uppermost shelves, it was a long way down. "I suspect it is a misinterpretation, Dagna. More likely, the demon was already previously summoned, and has merely been bound to a physical object on our plane. These 'sciences' would merely release the bindings."

Dagna hummed thoughtfully, scouring the shelves below her with fervor equalling her own. "Well that can't be safe. Doesn't proximity to demonic presenses cause... you know, wierd stuff?"

"'Wierd stuff'?" Felicity couldn't help a small smile, despite the ache that lingered in her chest even now. "Is that the technical term for it?"

"Better than 'crazy nugthuggery', right?" Dagna's grin was bright and easy, as always.

"I suspect 'unnatural manifestations' would be more suited to scholarly texts on the subject."

The dwarf shrugged. "You're the writer. I'm just the idea girl." Then, she resumed searching the bookshelves.

That was true, in part. In the weeks since her return to Kinloch Hold, Dagna had been a blessing in dwarven form. The girl's constant, curious prattling had kept Felicity sufficiently distracted while they helped the Circle with repairs and cleaning after the attack. Now, most of the heavy lifting was done, but the entire structure still stank of corruption and death, and that was unlikely to ever be purged by scrubbing alone. It was an uncomfortable thought, but the presence of a bright, curious mind always willing to leech knowledge from her proved distraction from that. Dagna was enough distraction for anyone.

Sometimes, in her more somber moments, Felicity marveled that this must be what other people experienced around her.

Now, Felicity and many of the weaker casters had been dismissed from the heavy labor, and Felicity was taking advantage of the time to delve into the Circle library, as she'd done so many times before the Blight had happened. Now, though, her goal was not sweeping curiosity and pursuit of general knowledge. No, she wished to answer a single question: how might a Grey Warden survive killing an archdemon?

It was a tricky proposition to be certain, and one she would never think to let anyone else in on, much less someone as talkative as Dagna. Even so, it was nice to have the help and the company, even if Dagna couldn't be given instructions beyond 'pull anything that references Grey Wardens and magic.'

She would be far more likely to find answers at Weisshaupt. However, something in her quailed at the prospect of involving the First Warden. He was notoriously caught up in politics, and she had since learned to be wary of handing politicians weapons. To what nefarious purposes might someone like Bhelen or Loghain have used knowledge such as this?

No. She would keep it secret, and thus keep it secure. As far as anyone outside the four on top of the tower knew, Riordan had taken the final blow, as was traditional.

Felicity had just lain her hand on a title regarding the Second Blight when a commotion coming from outside the library drew her attention away. She looked up to see a trail of grim-faced Templars coming from deeper within the Tower. Between them was Cullen, the only indication of his current status in the Order being the fact that his hands were tied behind his back.

Felicity couldn't help but watch him as they passed, the hard, haunted look in his eyes enough to make her healing instincts fight the reins. She'd forgiven him for his harsh words during the Blight. She couldn't even raise much outrage at what he'd more recently done to those two apprentices. Instead, she ached, wanting to fix him so badly, and turn him back into the sweet man who had once stuttered every time she was in the room.

As if sensing her regard, his eyes flickered up to meet hers, and for a moment the air was tense and heavy. Then, at the same time, they both looked away.

They said he was to be transfered north, to a Circle better equipped to attend to his instabilities than the scattered, ruined remains of the Ferelden Circle. Felicity made it a point not to know where. She had no right to know.

Just as she had no right to worry about what Alistair was doing right now. Was he feeling any more comfortable in a position of authority? Had he made any proclamations yet? How was he adjusting to his... his wife? Painful questions, and none more than the last. But she had no right to be jealous. He'd given her the chance, and she'd pushed it right back at him. It had been the right thing to do, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

She leaned forward, resting her forhead against the bookshelf and just breathing, until well after the sound of armored footsteps passed.

"Felicity? Are you all right?"

She looked down. Dagna was directly below her, peering up at her with wide, earnest eyes.

"Y-yes, Dagna, I'm fine." She pushed back and took a moment to collect herself. "Now, you were saying about summoning?"

"Oh, right!" Dagna's eyes lit with excitement. "Well, my thought is this. It is possible to tear the Veil, right? With lots of death at one time in one location? It wears it down; that's where we get hauntings. So what if it were possible to create a very localized rip... just a little pinprick... and the somehow create a mechanical means to access it? It would require magic to create at first, of course, but once the material mechanism was set in place..."

Felicity listened to the dwarf talk, letting the girl's brilliant enthusiasm wash her worries away. This, here, was where she was meant to be... tossing theories back and forth with Dagna and the mages, while searching for the answers to the most curious of mysteries. Once, she had demanded that Wynne take her out of the Tower, where she could be useful, but she could not see anything more useful than this.

Even so, she let her hand stray back to her hair, which she had pulled back with a clip made from a single, delicate, petrified rose.