"Alexius," Dorian protested, "that isn't–"
"Silence!" Alexius pointed the spear at him. "You don't understand; you never have, and never will! As for you..." He turned the weapon towards Leliana, who was coming to her feet. Its pointed tip began to glow, and magic crackled forth.
Bang! The magic was disrupted and the Magister pitched forward. His eyes widened, then narrowed, and his face twisted into a grimace. A shaky hand went up to his shoulder, and when taken away, was covered in blood.
"Not on my watch," Varric spat. "This shit ends right here, right now."
"Five of us against one of you," Cassandra added. "Surrender now, Alexius; give us the amulet, and we will spare your life."
The Magister chuckled bitterly. His angry eyes wandered over to the corpse of his son, and there they faltered. "Spare my life!" he hissed, and winced in pain. Looking back at those before him, his eyes hardened again. "You are all fools! You had your chance...and if you think I should cater to your whim now, simply to spare my life...well, I hope you enjoy what the Elder One has in store for you."
With his free hand, Alexius wrapped an arm around Felix, tenderly, as if he should fear hurting him; with the other, he gripped the shaft of his spear and struck the stone floor. A blast of green magic swept across the dais, and Alexius suddenly disappeared.
Leliana's quick eyes spotted him kneeling in a far corner of the room. "You're not going anywhere." She loosed an arrow in his direction, arcing swiftly through the hall.
The Magister averted it with a last minute barrier and lashed out with the spear again. Magic shot forth from its tip, sundering the air like a crackling thunderbolt. A loud rip sliced through the middle of the throne room, opening in its place a bright green rift. Within seconds several beams shot down to the ground, spawning a host of demons that outnumbered the group seven to five.
"This is what it has come to," Cassandra murmured, and readied her sword. "So be it!"
Varric slapped the pistol clip back into his gun and cocked it. "We'll clear the demons for you," he told Ahnnie. "You go do what you gotta do."
There was nothing she could say to him now that would be half as helpful or epic. "Stay safe," she murmured instead, squeezing his arm.
Dorian brought out his staff, the tip of which glowed with an incoming spell. Without another word, the fight began; Ahnnie and Cassandra spread out, taking on the demons to the sides, while Dorian and Varric worked on taking down or weakening the ones before them. Leliana's arrows flew in from the side, piercing the hides of the demons that threatened to surround them all.
Their enemies were a mix of terror and shade demons, with two wraiths acting as support on either side of the room. It seemed manageable enough if they played their cards right, but dotting the ground beneath them, glowing in yellow and green, were the infernal time-warp circles.
"Yellow circle!" Ahnnie shouted across to Cassandra, who, to her credit, looked down instantly and sidestepped from the circle in time.
"Behind you!" the Seeker shouted back after looking up again, and Ahnnie whirled around in time to find a shade attempting to claw her back in addition to the one she fought in front.
The girl ducked and held her glaive out horizontally, so that both swipes missed her and the rear shade impaled itself against the bladed end. When she shot back up to deal with the front one, she spun the bladed end around and stabbed it through the demon's open mouth. The thing screamed, writhed, and then faded into dust.
On Cassandra's end, the Seeker was dancing between the tall legs of a terror demon, cutting through its elongated arm as it swung down at her, slashing at its torso whenever it bent low enough. At one point, she'd come close enough to a wall displaying decorative shields. With a deftness reminiscent of her earlier days, she tore one off and pushed her weight behind it to bash the creature into stumbling backwards.
The demon shrieked and made a quick rebound. Cassandra dashed forward, aiming to slide between the legs. One of the wraith balls suddenly hit her and almost made her trip. As she stumbled a green circle formed beneath her feet and she was blinked several steps ahead of her destination. She quickly whirled around, the demon screeching behind her as an arrow pierced its shoulder, and swung a punishing slash behind a knee. The sword cut through bone and severed the limb halfway. As the demon stumbled, she made a similar cut through the other knee that brought it down. Cassandra finished off the terror demon for good with a final stab to the back.
Varric, on the other hand, tried his best not to shoot into the main tangle of things. An arrow he could easily keep track of, but bullets were practically invisible the moment they shot out of the barrel. He had thus far been engaging his ammunition against a rather hardy shade and, thanks to some of Dorian's firebolts, managed to slow it down some. Ducking aside its long claws, he came as close to it as he had dared since the fight and aimed the pistol for its head. With another bang, he blast a hole through the demon's forehead.
From the corner of his eye, the dwarf noticed Cassandra and then Dorian falling prey to one of the wraiths' magic balls. He then took it upon himself in that moment to get rid of them lest they grew too troublesome. "One down," he counted as the first wraith poofed away beneath a bullet. But just was his luck, he stepped unwittingly into a yellow circle and the wraith was back in business again. "Oh, boy..."
Four demons down, with Varric working on another one. That left two more to go, should the dwarf succeed.
Despite the progress, time was slipping beneath their very fingers. With each minute unmolested, the rift lay like an open doorway for creatures of the Fade to pour through; precious minutes that could have been better used for figuring out the time traveling spell. As if on cue, two more beams deposited another pair of shades into the middle of the throne room, upon which Ahnnie and Cassandra turned their attentions to when their demons were defeated.
Dorian hissed in exasperation as he twirled his staff in a series of attacks against the new shades, tearing his focus away from the terror demon he and Leliana had been working on. The graze on his shoulder stung like a bitch and his nerves were drawing thin. "This is madness, Alexius!" he reminded his former mentor for the umpteenth time. "Just stop being stubborn and give us the amulet!"
Whether the Magister heard him or not, he did not show. At any rate, no one could be bothered to check. They were too preoccupied with the more immediate threat. Despite that, Dorian made it an imperative to reach the Magister as soon as possible. Once he saw that the other four appeared to have the situation in check, he ran between the time circles to where Alexius was hiding. He performed an athlete-worthy jump over the length of a yellow circle before preparing a counter spell under his breath, intended for breaking the barrier Alexius erected around himself and his dead son.
Broken stone suddenly flew in all directions as a terror demon leapt out of a hole in front of him. Dorian gave a startled yell and skidded backwards in surprise, but before he could draw out his staff, a well timed arrow pierced the demon's stomach. Upon closer inspection, this particular terror demon was studded with arrows in multiple places.
"He seems to like you," a once-mellifluous voice remarked from behind; even beneath the hardened edge, Dorian could tell it was once pleasant to hear.
"Or maybe he doesn't like you," the mage suggested as he sent more fire the demon's way. "You're not very pleasant company to be in at the moment. Were you ever? Even as a spymaster?"
What little rapport that had been built between them suddenly melted away the moment the terror demon was finally destroyed. "Go get the amulet from him," she commanded, as stony as before. "I'll hold your back in the meantime."
"Can't argue with that." Dorian turned back to the matter at hand and recited his spell from the top. It was luckily not a long one, but neither did it require the force he assumed it needed; the moment he spoke the last word, the barrier around the Magister shattered like broken glass. By the Maker – you'd rip a hole in the Veil to stop us from getting the amulet, but erect a weak barrier to protect yourself? "Have you lost your mind?" he asked aloud as he came close.
Alexius appeared to not have heard. He was hunched over Felix like a protective animal, murmuring worriedly to himself. He was so engrossed that he did not seem to notice the blood dripping from his robe onto his son's tunic. "Oh Felix, how cold you've grown – were you always this pale? How your mother's heart would break if she saw you now."
"Of course he wasn't always that pale," Dorian broke in. He had thought of taking the Magister by surprise, but lost the heart upon listening to his ravings. "Dammit, Alexius. For how long did you keep him in that state? Surely you must have known he never would have wanted it."
A jaw muscle twitched irritably in Alexius' face. "You think I would not know the mind of my own son?" So he could hear what was being said to him, after all. He was just being a stubborn ass.
"As far as you've taken things with this time magic and Elder One? No, you didn't know a single thing."
Alexius grit his teeth and swung the spear around. "How dare you–"
Dorian blocked it effortlessly with the tip of his staff. "You're but one person, Alexius. It's all right to not know everything, to not be in control. But I suppose if you had understood that, things would not have gone as far as they have." He sighed. Suddenly, he felt so tired. "Please, for everyone's sakes, just give it up. You're not going to last long with that bullet in your shoulder." An explosion sounded from behind them, and Dorian looked back to find the rift closed. "There. The Survivor's just foiled your plans. There literally is nothing else you can do. Come now, Alexius..."
When he still didn't budge, Dorian asked, "What would Livia say if she saw you now?"
The name seemed to stir something long forgotten in the man, as his suddenly wistful face betrayed. "Livia..." His hooded eyes, framed by care lines suddenly made more evident, looked back down at his son's corpse. "Felix...what did I do to deserve losing you both?"
"Nothing, Alexius," Dorian answered solemnly. "You've done nothing at all. Misfortune just happens." He considered putting a hand on the older man's shoulder, but decided against it. "Look...I see no reason in prolonging this travesty. I know it's hard, but Felix and Livia are not coming back. I wish I could tell you that turning back time would bring them back, but even so..."
"Felix would still die," the Magister finished, bitterly.
"Well, yes."
Alexius ran a hand over his face as he shook his head. "The past, the present, the future – they are all empty for me. It is, indeed, a great travesty."
Dorian felt a pang of pity for the man. "But who knows?" he interjected. "There might still be a chance. If something that could have been done differently were to be done in the past..."
Alexius' hand slid down over his mouth, eyes thoughtful. "I think of that every day," he murmured through his fingers.
"Then you will give us the amulet?"
"Oh, Dorian!" The Magister laughed. "How fortunate you are, that an amulet should be the extent of your troubles. I, on the other hand, have overstayed my welcome – it must come to an end, just like all the good that's happened in my life."
Dorian frowned. "What do you mean? Alexius, do–"
But a sleek shape thrummed past Dorian's vision and materialized a second later as an arrow through Alexius' forehead. The Magister swayed and then fell across Felix's chest in a macabre cross. Blood streaked from the arrow shaft past his open eyes and down his cheeks like dark, morbid tears. Dorian stared at him open-mouthed before shooting a questioning glance back at the spymaster who had loosed the arrow.
"He was reaching for a knife in his belt," Leliana explained, voice nonchalant. "It never would have killed him fast enough. Trust me."
The Tevinter mage looked from her to Alexius, and back again. "I suppose," he agreed, but felt little satisfaction in the statement.
The rift had been closed all right; it just hadn't been closed as easily as Dorian believed.
While he was confronting the Magister, Cassandra turned to Ahnnie after having helped her defeat one of the two new shades. "I can handle this myself. You must head for the rift – Varric and I will cover for you."
Ahnnie nodded. "Got it."
Assured by the Seeker's promise, the girl lost no time in making for the rift. She weaved as swiftly as she could between the yellow time circles, but admitted to jumping in a few green ones to speed her progress.
Just as she got close enough, a beam suddenly shot down from the rift. It blazed and crackled directly in front of her, blinding her momentarily. When it subsided, a familiar figure came into focus through the spots in her eyes – a bedraggled young man in tattered leathers, with a wide-brimmed hat on his head and shaggy blonde hair curtaining his eyes.
"Cole! What're you doing here?" Ahnnie demanded, shocked beyond comprehension. But now was not the time for surprises. "Never mind; now that you're here, go see what you can help with! I'll take care of the rift."
It only struck her, briefly, that he had appeared from the rift in much the same manner as a demon. And in her haste, she almost failed to notice the fact that his skin held the same red tint as Cassandra and Varric's. His once-sullen eyes regarded her strangely; one could even say they were staring at her coldly. "I am not here to help you. I serve the Elder One now."
"What?"
Faster than the blink of an eye, he slid out a dagger and knocked its pommel against her wrist, startling her into releasing the glaive. Then he swung the dagger at her. Hot, jarring pain sliced across her left shoulder to her right breast, the force of which threw her off her feet and sent her skidding on her back. A cry of pain rent from her mouth all the way down to her landing.
"Fuck!" she cried again, torn between hugging her wound and the accursed stinging it made with every move. "Jesus Christ–" She tried raising herself up by an elbow, faltered, and fell. "Why?" she ground out as Cole paced steadily towards her. "You helped me before...why are you doing this now?" Her question was choked to a gasp as a rough hand forced her up by the collar.
"Because I am bound," he answered. His dagger hand then moved forward to make the plunge.
By some miracle, Ahnnie managed to catch hold of his wrist mere inches away from her abdomen. It took both hands and all her might to keep it at bay, muscles protesting with the strain. Even so, she was slipping. There was only one way she could survive in such an event, but that way was traumatic and unthinkable; yet, it was the only thing she possibly had left to her. Tears welling in her eyes, she looked up at the heartless face of the spirit, demon, person, whatever it was that stood before her now – "Please...don't make me do this..."
He moved the dagger ever closer.
"You at least remember me?" she asked, desperate. "You helped me escape from Envy – remember?"
His hand hesitated a bit. She swore she could feel it! "I don't know what this Elder One wants you to do," she went on, "but please, Cole; remember that we weren't enemies. You tried to hel–"
The bite of cold metal tore through her stomach, straight in the middle. "I am not here to help you," the young man reiterated, as coldly as the blade of his dagger. "What once may have been is forever lost to me."
Ahnnie's words froze half-formed in her mouth with barely the strength for the smallest squeak. Is this for real? She simply couldn't believe; it was happening so fast. Never had she expected to see Cole again, and in this scenario especially. Her neck craned upwards as laborious as an unoiled hinge, and tears of pain and grief fell freely from her eyes. Closing her lips together, she could do nothing more than purse them tightly. I'm sorry.
She closed her eyes and tapped willingly, regretfully, into the familiar fire deep within her.
As soon as heat flooded into her palm, she ripped her sparking left hand from Cole's wrist and thrust it into his chest. He was solid, that much she could attest to. He could also feel pain, as his guttural cries showed her, echoing on and on in her spinning head. Ahnnie only shut her eyes tighter, refusing to witness the torment she was forcing upon another living being, however supernatural. She screamed a moment later as the dagger rudely exited her, a pain that was exacerbated as she fell forward along with Cole.
One hand on his chest, the other gripping her wound, her eyes fluttered open to find him quietly dying. The wild flares of her mark continued to dance and crackle, but the young man beneath her showed no outward sign of pain beyond the strain in his eyes. His bloodied dagger had fallen off to the side, gleaming eerily in the green light.
"I'm sorry," she panted. "I can't...take it off..."
Cole's lips moved as if to form words, but none could be heard. Then his eyes clouded over, blue-grey dulling to dead stone, and his lids slowly closed, stopping halfway. Unlike what she expected, his body became less and less substantial until it faded into nothing, and her left hand sank crackling-hot onto the stone floor. It was as though he had never been there in the first place. She blinked dazedly at the spot before chancing a look up to see his dagger still on the floor.
Whoever, or whatever you are – were...I wish it had ended differently.
"Ahnnie, the rift!" Cassandra's voice reminded her.
The girl's head shot up at that and she struggled to her feet. Pain lanced through her anew and made her tighten the grip over her stomach, but with an agonizing push, she stood a little straighter and raised her left hand. The mark still sputtered hungrily, having been robbed of a focal point, and the beam practically tore itself from her palm. Gritting her teeth, she did her best to bull through the screams of her aching muscles.
When the rift eventually burst into nothing, she heaved a sigh of relief and wilted to the ground. Nausea rose in accordance with the mounting dizziness and darkness swam at the edges of her vision. Determined to weather it out despite the odds, she sucked in a slow breath and willed herself to not think of her wounds.
"Here, let me help."
Ahnnie looked up to find Cassandra's hand extended towards her and accepted it gratefully. The Seeker pulled her up, firm but gentle, and handed her the fallen glaive. The girl held it in her free hand for support and felt Cassandra's arm envelope her other shoulder for good measure. "Thanks," she whispered.
Cassandra nodded in acknowledgement and led her away.
Dorian knelt by the two corpses, face somber and distant. His eyes latched onto the dead Magister in particular. He wanted to die, didn't he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications...he lost Felix long ago and didn't even notice. Oh, Alexius! Once you were a man to whom I compared all others. Sad, isn't it?
With a sigh, the Tevinter mage pushed those thoughts away and dug into his former mentor's pockets. It was strange, going from revering the man to fighting him and now, looting his corpse. He half expected Alexius to suddenly awaken and reprimand him, but alas – what is dead usually stays dead. He pulled out the cubic amulet a moment later and straightened up with it in hand.
"This is the same amulet he used before," he told Leliana. "I think it's the same one we made in Minrathous. That's a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell he used, and I should be able to reopen the rift."
"An hour?" Leliana asked incredulously. "That's impossible! You must go now!"
"Indeed," Cassandra agreed from across the room, her voice booming behind them. "She may not have much time left."
"Who?" Dorian inquired, and whirled around to see the bleeding girl lying on the steps of the dais. "Maker's breath!"
Ahnnie looked over at him and forced a weak smile, too tired to make a response of adequate volume.
"No...no, no, no, no, no..." He immediately rushed over to her with Leliana on his tail. Once there, he took her hand away from her stomach, his own already curling at the sight of the blood. "Blast it all! This is going to be a beast to heal..." Even so, he brought out his staff. He frowned as he chanted a few words, and the staff glowed white, but faded and died away a moment later. "Damn it. Damn it all! I can't think of any healing spells for something this deep...and that's not counting her chest..."
He could tell by the smile in Ahnnie's eyes that she felt bad for him. "I kind of felt it heal a little," she put in sympathetically, to little effect.
A muffled boom interrupted them, echoing from beyond the throne room's walls. The world suddenly shook and trembled, sending down a shower of dust and stones from the ceiling. Leliana looked up at the vibrating walls and grimaced at Dorian. "The Elder One."
Cassandra and Varric had their gazes glued upwards as well, bringing them back down to exchange knowing glances when the quake subsided. A subtle understanding seemed to pass between them, as Cassandra showed with a light nod to the dwarf.
"We'll hold the main door," Varric then offered. "Once they break through, it's all you, Nightingale."
Ahnnie gaped at him with a horrified expression. "No..."
"Hey, we'll be all right," he assured her with a smile. "Whatever happens to us now will be reversed the moment you go back in time. Piece of cake."
Easier said than done, Dorian thought ruefully, the weight of the amulet in his hand more pressing now than ever.
Leliana turned down the hall, as did Cassandra and Varric. "You have as much time as I have arrows," the spymaster said, and both Dorian and Ahnnie watched their backs as they made for the throne room doors. The doors were more easily accessible from inside than out, giving way beneath a simple pull. Cassandra and Varric slipped beyond them while Leliana stayed behind to hold a firm position twenty feet away. The last thing to be heard was the thud of the doors closing automatically and their creaking mechanisms locking back into place.
The Tevinter mage tore his gaze away from there and back to the girl who people called Herald of Andraste. In Tevinter, she was known as the Survivor. Maker, she's growing whiter by the minute. I only hope whatever stabbed her hit nothing important. This distinction, he knew, made the difference between an extra few minutes to hours of life. "Bear with me here," he pleaded. "I'll work this out as fast as I can. In the meantime...try not to sleep, will you?"
Ahnnie nodded. "I'll try," she whispered, but her movements were already growing sluggish.
With that insurance, however weak, Dorian set to work. He brought out the amulet and channeled his mana into it, guided by the chants in Tevene he had memorized so long ago as part of the formula. The amulet floated before him, enveloped in a green-blue glow. Having activated it, he now shifted his focus on reversing the spell that had brought them here. Like a thief picking a lock, he navigated through the intricate workings of the spell, trying to the best of his ability to find that one combination that would click things into place. Occupied thus, time was nonexistent to him.
"It's getting cold," Ahnnie suddenly rasped.
"Shh, I know," Dorian murmured. Fresh sweat beaded on his brow. Come on. You're getting closer. That's it...
Another period of silence ensued. He looked at her from the corner of his eye whenever he remembered to, but always regretted doing so. The color was leaving her lips and she was mumbling incoherent things. Shaking his head, he threw himself back into the matter of his spell. Almost...
A muffled thrumming pulsed beyond the throne room, followed by a loud bash against the doors. The sound made Dorian jolt, but still he continued to work. He was just so close.
Leliana's voice suddenly echoed against the vaulted ceiling. "Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame," she prayed as she notched an arrow and raised her bow.
The doors pulsed again, and on the third try, they burst open. The bodies of Cassandra and Varric were roughly thrown aside as a group of Venatori and demons entered the hall. Leliana loosed her arrow upon the slightest sign of entry, followed by an entire volley, toiling nonstop to hold them back.
"Andraste guide me. Maker, take me to your side."
Dorian furrowed his brows together as he tried to shut away the noise. Just one more component, and he would have it.
The spymaster let out a scream of pain as something struck her, yet from what Dorian could hear she still fought valiantly. The Andrastian prayers were replaced by grunts and screams of effort, indicative of a rough struggle the sight of which he refused to witness.
His eyes were transfixed instead on the floating amulet. It was starting to glow with a brighter intensity. A dark green shimmer passed through the air around it, punctuated by streaks of light like miniature lightning bolts. Heart pounding, Dorian stepped back with a look of pure joy on his face. "Finally, I've done it!" he cried triumphantly.
Without much of a thought to sensitivity, he hefted the limp Ahnnie to her feet, stuffed the glaive into her arms, and shoved her into the swirling emerald rift that flashed open a split second later. And without so much as a single look back, he jumped in after her.
Ahnnie gasped as she fell through flashing lights once more. Beyond the subsequent tunnel of darkness was the bright crackle of firelight, and she emerged into it gasping like a fish out of water. So uncoordinated was she that she stumbled straight into the chest of Magister Gereon Alexius himself. A strong hand from the side, however, pulled her away.
She screamed, half expecting a fresh eruption of pain across her chest and stomach. But none came. Blinking confusedly, she felt herself over. "My wounds!" she cried. "They're gone!"
"You were wounded?" Cassandra's confused voice demanded, and Ahnnie whirled around to find the Seeker just as she remembered her, dressed in armor with short choppy hair and no red glows on her face.
"You all right, kiddo?" Varric asked next. His voice was not more hoarse than necessary and he, too, was devoid of the red lyrium's taint.
"Cassandra! Varric!" Ahnnie spread her arms wide and crushed them both into a hug. She felt so happy she could cry. "I'm alive, and you guys are okay!"
Cassandra's mouth opened and closed in utter bewilderment. "Wh-what are you doing?" she spluttered, uncomfortably aware of the rogue dwarf's shoulder jammed against her arm in the embrace. The Inquisition agents in the room as well as Grand Enchanter Fiona stared curiously at the spectacle, adding more to the Seeker's consternation.
Solas stepped forward to tap the overjoyed girl on the shoulder. "Ahnnie? Whatever may have happened, I think now's not the time fo–"
"Solas!" She tore away from the other two and latched onto him with the same ferocity. The elf jolted in surprise, almost losing hold of his staff, and stayed frozen in place for several moments before recovering enough to squeeze his arms free for a gentle, albeit puzzled, reciprocation.
The Inquisition soldier in the envoy tentatively approached, a concerned look aimed the Herald of Andraste's way. Just as he was reaching for her, Varric stopped him with a light chuckle. "Careful, or you might get smothered by a spontaneous hug," the dwarf joked. The soldier paused, chuckled back, and stepped away as Ahnnie extricated herself anyway.
Dorian had exited the rift not too long after her, the magic of which was fading away by the second. He watched the wholesome scene unfold with a light smile beneath his mustache before turning around to face the astonished gawk of his former mentor. "You'll have to do better than that," was his best retort – after that harrowing experience, he had not the creative juices to make any sort of witty comeback. He felt empty, almost bland.
The Magister's previous tough exterior then cracked before his very eyes. With a disheartened slump, Alexius slid to his knees, eyes downcast. "You've won," he croaked. "There is no point in extending this charade." Raising his head, he cast his sad gaze over to his son. "Felix..."
The young man came over to his father and knelt before him. "It's going to be all right, Father," Felix assured him.
Alexius shook his head. "You'll die."
"Everyone dies," Felix murmured.
The Magister's eyes narrowed in pain. With a trembling hand, he raised it to Felix's face and gave the young man a gentle stroke on the cheek. Two Inquisition agents approached in that moment and stopped directly behind him. Resolutely, Alexius heaved himself to his feet, and the agents at first tensed, expecting retaliation – when he turned around, his hands held before him and his expression morose, they relaxed again and took him away. Felix accompanied the procession out the audience hall like an obedient puppy.
Dorian sighed and turned back to the happy Survivor chattering away with her companions. From her heated voice, he guessed she was recounting the details of their time traveling adventure. A smile tickling the corner of his mouth, he strode over to them and thumped a hand on her shoulder. "Well," he huffed, "I'm glad that's over with!"
Ahnnie whirled around in surprise and gave Dorian a grin. "You said it. We didn't turn into paste, which is even better! Come on, I'll tell you the rest outside," she said to the others. "I don't want to stay in this castle another minute."
"Neither do I," Dorian agreed with a long stretch of his arms, and noted, appreciatively, the absence of the bullet graze on his shoulder.
Ahnnie's story would have been dismissed as nothing more than pure fancy had not Dorian chimed in with the same details. It took a few hours to explain everything, yet even after it was done, there was the sense that it had not been taken a hundred percent seriously. Easy enough for those who never experienced it; all they saw was the portal, the disappearance, some angered yelling, and then the pair's reappearance less than a minute later. The implications of a chaotic future under the Elder One, however, was not lost on any of their questioners.
Only one thing was purposefully left out, and that was the part where Ahnnie acquired her wounds. Dorian swore up and down that they had caused her major blood loss, and when asked what caused them, the girl was quick to shift the blame on a demon. Perhaps in a way, she wasn't wrong. However, like before, the mystery of Cole eluded her. Dorian hadn't seen him either, so who would believe her if she told them a shaggy young man no one ever laid eyes on was the culprit?
And maybe, somehow, she hoped that in having prevented such a future in the first place, Cole – whoever and wherever he was – would not become corrupted. In that case, she saw no harm in failing to mention him. At least now she knew he wasn't a figment of her imagination.
That having been established, it was now time to renew the possibility of alliance with the rebel mages, this time negotiating with their true leader, Grand Enchanter Fiona. After giving Ahnnie two days off to recuperate her senses at the Crossroads, the Inquisition went back to Redcliffe village. The way was refreshingly smooth and free of strange rifts.
Yet before their party could be accommodated at the Gull and Lantern, another procession cut through the village with liveried soldiers and loud fanfare. At its head was a regally dressed couple, sitting astride two magnificent steeds of impeccable breeding. They reined in their mounts at the village square and swept their gazes across the people assembled there.
"Grand Enchanter Fiona," the man spoke out, his voice booming authoritatively, "we'd like to discuss your abuse of our hospitality."
Ahnnie looked from the couple to Fiona, a puzzled look on her face. "What's going on? Who are they?" she whispered to Cassandra.
The Seeker's face was grim. "They are King Alistair and Queen Anora of Ferelden. I suspect they are here on behalf of the arl."
Whoa...royalty? They don't look so happy. Ahnnie then watched as Fiona came forward with her head held low. If ever she was a little woman, she seemed even smaller now. "Your Majesties," she humbly addressed.
"When we offered the mages sanctuary, we did not give them the right to drive our people from their homes," the woman, Queen Anora, reproached harshly.
Fiona cupped her hands together in a pleading gesture. "King Alistair, Queen Anora, I assure you, we never intended–"
"In light of your actions, good intentions are no longer enough," Queen Anora interrupted, eyes narrowing at the Grand Enchanter.
"You and your followers have worn out your welcome," King Alistair continued. "Leave Ferelden, or we'll be forced to make you leave."
Fiona's mouth dropped wide open. "Leave Ferelden! But...we have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?" Behind her, a surrsurrus of worried murmurs swept through the mages present like wildfire, as if to amplify her concerns. Outside of Ferelden, they would be hard pressed to find anyone willing to accommodate apostates. It was difficult enough even within borders. With this banishment, they were all doomed.
Ahnnie bit down on her lower lip, looking from the royal couple to the Grand Enchanter. "Well," she piped up slowly, a suggestive lilt in her tone, "the Inquisition did come here for mage help to seal the Breach..."
Fiona turned to her, half hopeful, half fearful. "And what are the terms of the arrangement?" she asked uncertainly. The negotiations, it seemed, would take place here in the square rather than the Gull and Lantern.
"Hopefully better than what Alexius gave you," a lighthearted voice said from the crowd. "The Inquisition is better than that, yes?"
"Of course it is, Dorian," Ahnnie answered, loud enough for everyone to hear. She looked back into the press of people and spotted his mustached face beaming back at her.
"I would conscript them," Cassandra decided. "They've proven what they'll do, given too much freedom." She aimed a sharp glance towards the Enchanter, still not over the fact that she had allied with Tevinter.
Varric's brows furrowed in concern. "Now, look," he interjected, "I've known a lot of mages. They can be loyal friends if you let them. Friends who make bad decisions, but still. Loyal."
Ahnnie frowned, having not expected such stark opinions at once. Feeling lost, she found herself instinctively looking towards Solas, who gave her an encouraging smile. "Do what you think feels right, da'len," he murmured to her. "You are not bound by any of us to follow our decisions. And, you know, you can be more than just a figurehead for the Inquisition. Why don't you give it a try?"
She glanced nervously at Cassandra. "I..."
"You'll never know until you try."
"Some bad decisions lead to irreparable consequences," Cassandra was saying to Varric when Ahnnie returned her attention to the matter at hand. "After she hears of what the Herald and Tevinter mage went through in that rift, I am sure Leliana would also agree with my decision. As for Commander Cullen, he had cast his ballot for the Templars from the beginning."
Fiona could see the direction in which the negotiations were going quite plainly. "Very well, then," she said, taking it with as much dignity as possible. "As things stand, we have little choice but to accept whatever you offer."
"W-wait!" Ahnnie called out; and then blushed when she realized she didn't have to yell. "Um, I disagree with conscription."
"You would openly interrupt your leader?" Queen Anora suddenly asked.
Ahnnie felt her heart skip a beat. Oh my god. A queen just talked to me. A freaking queen! Don't screw this up, don't screw this up..."W-well," she began, "I don't mean to be rude...but, if anything, I would like her to reconsider." She chanced a tiny glance at Cassandra from the corner of her eye, and then looked over at the Grand Enchanter. "Bad decisions are bad decisions...but the Enchanter did what she did out of fear. Fear for the safety of the mages, who counted, and still do count, on her as leader. God; er, Maker knows, many would have done the same in her position.
"As far as I know, the disaster has been averted – the Magister arrested, the Venatori purged. Plus, no one would have willingly gone with Tevinter if Magister Alexius didn't manipulate things the way he did. Grand Enchanter Fiona and the rest of the mages deserve another chance as allies." Just as I got another chance, she silently added, suddenly relating to Fiona more than she had when they first arrived in Redcliffe. The image of the Enchanter locked in crystals of red lyrium flashed through her mind again, along with the sound of her pitiful groans. I'm so sorry I was ever upset with you. I, of all people, should've known what you were going through.
Ahnnie half expected a period of awkward silence to follow her sudden outburst. Instead, Cassandra said not too long after the last word, "We will discuss this later." Her tone was not as disapproving as Ahnnie had expected, either.
"Baby steps, da'len," Solas whispered into her ear when, at last, the spotlight was given back to the Seeker and the royals. "Just one step at a time, until it becomes a natural pace. You did well today."
"Did I really?" Ahnnie whispered back.
Dorian broke in between them before Solas could make his reply. "And what conspiracy are you both cooking up, hm? I thought we were past the need for secrecy by now."
Ahnnie opened her mouth, closed it, and laughed. "Maybe I'll tell you later," she promised with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
The Inquisition departed from Redcliffe early the next day. In their company followed the hundreds of mages whom Fiona had worried about providing protection for. The village of Redcliffe watched their backs as they left, whispering rumors and stirring speculations on the mages' pending status with the Inquisition. Either way, they could all rest a little easier now; their arl would soon be coming back to them from Denerim.
Ten days later, the Inquisition arrived at Haven. An uproar of surprise ensued when the larger than life convoy arrived at the gates. No one had expected all the rebel mages to come at once...except maybe for a certain spymaster, who had been properly alerted by raven many days prior.
Whatever the differing opinions of the citizens and allies at Haven, the Inquisition could now get down to work. Their efforts lay focused on a distant point of the sky, where the clouds swirled stormily and the air glowed green.
They were now ready to take on the Breach.