Disclaimer: Bioware owns it all, I'm just borrowing the scraps off the table.
Author's Note: Finally! I apologize profusely for taking so long to get this chapter up. It's actually been done for about a week, but between life stuff, two major MMO updates, and Teakwood being stuck in the cookie mines and unable to beta read it, the chapter has been sitting in the corner looking at me with giant puppy eyes. The good news is, Ch. 13 is about halfway complete because I haven't let myself slack off even with this delay, so *hopefully* I'll have it out some time in the next week. So! Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing, and please enjoy Chapter 12 while I chain myself to a PS3 and marathon Dragon Age 2 all weekend for a friend. And please don't forget to leave a review - I'd love to know what you think!
Arcanum: Fatum
Chapter Twelve: Darkness Rising
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It was a near-silent procession as their small group made its way through the cold dungeons. Despite Alistair's growing impatience with their slow pace, each passing moment adding to his drive and determination to cut through the rest of the undead and find the arl now, Yllia was determined to keep them moving cautiously. She was all business as she led them through, sighting the undead first, her quick-casting spells the only indication to her companions that another cluster of the creatures had been spotted. She'd caught Morrigan looked at her with a touch of approval at the cold, methodical way in which she dispatched their targets; she'd also caught a couple of concerned looks sent her way by Leliana. The sweet-natured rogue was proving to be far more perceptive than Yllia had originally given her credit for.
As for their unexpected companion…
She hadn't looked at Jowan since releasing him from the cell – he, in turn, had spoken not a word. He kept to his promise, pressing himself against the wall and keeping behind the wall their bodies made whenever a skirmish arose. Keeping him out of the fray wasn't difficult; they rarely encountered groups greater than four or five. But she was constantly aware of his presence, and it played insistently at the back of her mind.
She'd thought him gone forever that moment he'd run from the Tower, as the Templar guards had closed in around her to prevent her from following. She'd thought for certain that the Templars would have caught up to him despite the loss of his phylactery, that he would have been either made Tranquil or killed outright. As a blood mage either outcome was possible, and that there might have been a third option had never crossed her mind.
He wasn't gone – he wasn't lost, and her inaction hadn't gotten him killed. Although one could not conceivably say that he was well, there was no mistaking that he was alive. Yllia should have felt relieved – and she had when she'd first recognized Jowan in that cell, once her shock had faded and that first rush of happiness flooded into her.
Until he'd started to explain and her mind had finally made that small connection between Isolde's words and Jowan's presence. A mage, responsible for poisoning the arl, caught and accused of summoning the undead. And here was Jowan, a blood mage, locked in a dungeon cell. Once her brain overruled her heart and started force-feeding her facts, it had all been rather obvious. And it left her with a bad taste in her mouth.
Did she believe Jowan's claim that he had nothing to do with the undead? She didn't disbelieve him. Save for the dragon in the room, Jowan had never been anything but honest with her in the past. They hadn't always agreed or taken the same viewpoint – he'd always been far more accepting of the Circle's ways than she – but he'd never lied.
That was Before, though – Before the blood magic, Before the escape, Before her Joining and the entirety of the world turning on its head. Everything was different now. Wasn't it?
"Yllia?"
The sound of her name made her jump and she stopped, turning to look at Alistair with confusion in her eyes. "What?" she asked, having the sinking suspicion that it wasn't the first time he'd said her name, and that she sounded about as confused as she felt.
Alistair looked at her with concern, and he darted a quick glance and a nod at a doorway that she'd been about to walk right past. "Unless they've done a complete remodel of the castle since I was last here," he said, "I think that's the stairway up to the first floor."
Yllia looked at the arched doorway for a moment and then blanched – he was right, there was a set of stairs heading upwards and she'd almost missed it entirely while lost in thought. She blushed lightly, then readjusted her grip on her staff and nodded. "All right, then," she said, as if she hadn't just been caught spacing out. "Let's go. Carefully. Alistair, can you take the lead?"
He hesitated and glanced briefly in Jowan's direction – Yllia wasn't surprised, it was clear that Alistair did not trust the other man – then nodded, and stepped forward, sword out as he assumed his proper place as the group's meatshield. Leliana fell back a little then, assuming the position of rear guard and Jowan-watcher and delegating Morrigan and Yllia into the center of the pack.
They proceeded up the stairs in this fashion, and Yllia's stomach twisted into a knot as they encountered room after room of undead with no survivors. Many of them wore the armor of the Redcliffe guard, but there were enough in tattered clothing to know of what had become of most of the servants within the castle as well. The thought that not long ago these had been living, breathing people left a bitter taste in her mouth. There were reasons the First Enchanter stoutly excluded necromancy from the Circle's theory teachings, blood magic connection aside.
Then – a blessing. In one room they found a young woman huddled, dressed in the peasant's dress that identified her as a servant. Yllia had never felt such a profound relief at finding someone alive, and once the woman was on her way through the path they'd cleared to the passage, she turned to her companions and gave them all a weary, relieved smile. "I was starting to think we weren't going to find anyone alive in this place."
Alistair yanked off his helmet and pushed a hand through sweat-damped hair, a matching grin upon his face, and Leliana gave her a return smile of her own. "The blacksmith will be grateful to see his daughter alive, I am certain," she said. "The Maker was truly watching over her."
"'Tis more likely her common sense kicked in and she thought to take shelter in a room with a lock," Morrigan said dryly, her acerbic tone indicating just what she thought of Leliana's statement and earning a frown from the other woman. "And might I suggest we let ours do the same? Standing about here with grins on our faces will do nothing for ending this. I, for one, am tiring quickly of cutting our way through walking corpses."
Alistair's grin vanished, quickly replaced by a scowl, but Yllia hurried to intercede. "Morrigan's right, we don't have time to stand around like this," she said quickly, though not even the other mage could dampen her relief.
"The main hall isn't much further from here," Jowan said softly, speaking up for the first time since they'd left his cell behind. "That's…probably where they are."
Yllia glanced at Alistair, who nodded in confirmation – his memory of the castle's layout matched what Jowan was saying. "Okay," she said. "From here on we proceed with extra caution. If…if Jowan is right, and Connor has been possessed by a demon, then we could be in for a tricky, dangerous situation." She looked at Morrigan, who gave an imperceptive nod.
"I have…never encountered a demon before," Leliana said truthfully, a hint of nervousness in her words. "There are many types, no?"
A memory rose up in the back of her mind of a massive form rising up from the body of a man, towering over her, calling to her and tempting her and... No! Yllia shoved the memory back with a fierce mental snarl, a shudder rippling through her at the same time that she tried to suppress.
She looked at Leliana. "There are five known types of demons," she confirmed. "The weakest is Rage, and then it moves on up until it reaches the top, Pride. When a mage is possessed by a demon they become an abomination, and each type of abomination differs depending on the demon. That's what the Circle teaches, at the very least."
"'Tis consistent with Mother's teachings as well," Morrigan said, inclining her head slightly. "The demons share the traits of the darker virtues of the human mind, and will exploit them without hesitation given half a chance. You." She fixed her golden-eyed gaze on Jowan. "Which demon is it that has possessed this child?"
Jowan looked startled at being addressed directly by Morrigan, and Yllia felt a slight aching pang in her chest. If it were a different situation, she could imagine trading looks with Jowan, finding out his opinions regarding the other apostate, laughing and sharing grins over their thoughts…
"I'm not sure," Jowan said hesitantly. "I was present when it possessed him, but I've never actually seen a demon before."
"You haven't seen a demon before, but you're a blood mage?" Alistair asked with incredulity. "I thought that's how mages learned blood magic, by learning from demons."
Jowan's cheeks reddened and he actually looked a touch indignant as he replied, "Or they learn from books hidden away in the restricted section of the Circle library. Like I did."
Alistair opened his mouth to reply, and stopped when Yllia put her hand firmly on the center of his breastplate. "No," she said firmly, shaking her head at him firmly. "We are not getting off tangent. Not with a demon around…there are books on blood magic in the restricted section of the Circle?" Jowan's words suddenly registered, and her eyes widened.
"Yllia…" Alistair's indignation smoothed into wry amusement.
"Right. Tangent." Yllia dropped her hand and turned back to Jowan, still not-quite looking straight at him. More like at his…chin. Easier to look at than his eyes, and not so difficult for her to pull off if she just looked directly ahead. Height-wise she only just reached his chin anyway. "Okay, so we don't know what sort of demon has actually possessed Connor, which makes this a little more difficult but not impossible. I'll enter first…the rest of you, stay back and behind me."
Alistair looked wary. "Wouldn't it be better for me to go first, if we'll be fighting it?"
"Yes – if we were fighting it." Yllia looked back at him. "I want to try and avoid that until I know what we're dealing with." As his skepticism, she lowered her voice. "If the demon is possessing Connor, and we fight it in his body… killing the demon means killing the boy, Alistair. I think we both agree we want to avoid that, don't you?"
Alistair paled slightly, and he nodded fervently. "Then let me take point," she continued, "and we'll try to figure out just what it is that we're dealing with. If Connor's not an abomination yet, if the demon hasn't taken full control, there may still be something that we can do. But I have to see how bad it is first."
"Then let us get going rather than stand around chattering away like a flock of magpies," Morrigan said, resting her hand on one ample hip as she cast a pointed look at Yllia – who, the elf supposed, Morrigan was naming as Chief Magpie.
Yllia nodded, then unstrapped her staff and held it in front of her rather than leave it at her back until she needed it. Leliana tilted her head to one side. "If you enter armed, will it not make the demon defensive?"
"Less likely if it sees I'm a mage," Yllia explained as they headed for the main hall at Alistair's direction. "Demons tend to look at mages and see dinner, not threat. I'm hoping to not give it a chance to realize it's mistaken." Was her tone just a tad chillier than normal then? Most likely, given the way that Alistair cast a quick glance in her direction. If they came out of this in one piece, she had a feeling she was going to be giving her fellow Warden another one of her life-story conversations. Maybe she'd find a way to postpone this one.
They reached the massive wooden doors that led into the main hall, and dimly voices could be heard coming from the other side. Voices and…laughter? Clapping?
…No, that wasn't creepy at all.
Bracing herself, Yllia pushed open the door and stepped into the spider's parlor.
Of all the things Yllia had expected to find inside the main hall…Bann Teagan cavorting around the room like a sugar-hyped lunatic was not one of them. It matched the sounds they'd heard, at least, but it was still a disturbing sight to see. Judging from the shocked mutter from Alistair behind her, she wasn't the only one who thought so.
Yllia took a deep breath, and then motioned for the others to follow her, stepping further into the room. And she approached the raised dais, Teagan stopped his crazed gesturing, and the young boy standing next to a distraught and forlorn Isolde stepped forward. Was that a look of contempt and disdain upon his face? Oh, yes. Not a Rage Demon, then, they don't waste time with idle fancy. Not a Sloth, either, they don't waste time with anything.
Damn. Rage and Sloth were the weakest – she'd really been hoping.
"So these are our visitors," Connor – for he couldn't be anyone else – sneered as he looked down upon them from the elevated platform. "The ones you told me about, Mother?"
A shiver rippled through Yllia, not only because of the demonic reverberation in the boy's voice, but because of the subservient, meek affirmative that Isolde gave, so different from the indignation she'd shown outside the castle. Fear. She's afraid. That didn't make Yllia feel any better.
"And this is the one who defeated my soldiers? The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"
Isolde flinched, and didn't quite look at him. "Yes…"
"And now it's staring at me. What is it, Mother? I can't see it well enough."
"By the Maker," Yllia heard Leliana whisper behind her. The temperature seemed to drop rapidly in the room every time Connor spoke, as if the very voice of possession was causing it to shift. She spared a quick glance at Alistair, but the warrior was standing stiffly off to her right, unmoving and unspeaking, just staring at Connor with eyes gone wide. She couldn't blame him. Unless they'd seen it before, no one could prepare for demonic possession.
"It…it is just an elf, Connor," Isolde stammered. "Like the s-servants in the castle…"
"Oh, I remember!" Connor exclaimed with far too much glee. "I had their ears cut off and fed to the dogs! The dogs chewed for hours! Shall I send it to the kennels, Mother?"
Yllia could feel the blood draining from her face as she listened to the depraved words, and then just as quickly she flushed with fury. One way or another, this demon is going down, she thought fiercely, blue eyes narrowing. She tightened her grip around her staff as she listened to Isolde beg her son to not hurt anyone, her temper beginning to flare up – and then was just as quickly dashed, as Connor's voice changed.
"M-Mother? What…what's happening? Where am I?"
There was no reverberation, no indication of the demonic presence, and Yllia's eyes went wide. Anyone lost to a demon would never be able to wrest control back for themselves – that Connor had meant that not only was he a mage of incredible potential, but he was also still within his own mind. Trapped, perhaps, and no doubt terrified – but there. The demon had not managed a full possession!
The momentary lapse was gone a second later, the demon taking control once more, snarling and lashing out at Isolde in anger as she attempted to reach out to her son. Isolde stumbled back, her eyes wide with terror and despair – how many times had these lapses occurred, building up her hopes, only to have them so ferociously dashed?
"Arlessa, stay back from him!" Yllia said sharply, seeing Isolde begin to reach out to Connor once more. Isolde was closer to Connor than she was, and the last thing Yllia wanted was to be unable to intervene before he ripped his mother apart in a fit of fury.
Isolde looked at Yllia tearfully, but actually did as she commanded. "Grey Warden…please. Please don't hurt my son! He's not responsible for what he does!"
"I know," Yllia replied, her eyes firmly locked upon Connor. "Your son isn't responsible for what's happened, Isolde – but this isn't your son."
A sob tore from Isolde's throat. "He didn't mean to do this!" she said as if she hadn't heard Yllia at all. "It was that mage – the one who poisoned Eamon! He started all of this! He summoned this demon! Connor was just trying to help his father!"
Yllia was glad that Jowan was more or less hidden behind Alistair at the moment – whether he was guilty of summoning the demon or not (and Yllia was wagering heavily on the side of not), she doubted the sight of him would do anything for Isolde's current state of mind.
"So he made a deal with the demon to do so?" Morrigan said scornfully from Yllia's left. "Foolish child."
Thank you, Morrigan. Please, antagonize the demon.
"It was a fair deal!" Connor roared furiously, the force behind it enough to make Alistair twitch and reach for his sword, though he stopped himself from fully drawing it. Yllia shot Morrigan a quick warning look, hoping she'd take the hint and not ignore it.
But the possessed boy seemed far more interested in talking at the moment than tearing them to bits, rambling on in his anger. "Father is alive, just as I wanted. Now it's my turn to sit on the throne and send out armies to conquer the world! Nobody tells me what to do anymore!"
I think I'm starting to get the picture here, Yllia realized as she listened to Connor's words. So Jowan poisoned Eamon and Connor wanted to save his father…somehow the demon found a way through the Veil to him, and offered him his desire in exchange for possession of his body. Connor's young and untrained, so he probably had no idea what price he was paying… Her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Desire.
Oh, by the Black City. A Desire demon?
Well, look at it this way, Yllia. At least it isn't Pride.
It took Yllia a moment to realize that Connor was addressing her again, after being momentarily distracted by the enthralled Teagan. "Well?" Connor demanded when she didn't immediately respond to his first demand. "What have you come here for?"
Not in the mood to play word games, Yllia opted for the most direct response to the question. She squared her shoulders and looked up at him steadily. "I came to stop you."
The words made Connor's eyes flash, and Yllia could practically taste the increase in foul magic upon her tongue. "I'm not finished playing!" he growled. "You can't make me stop! I think it's trying to spoil my fun, Mother!"
"I…I don't think…"
He cut Isolde off before she could manage to finish her sentence. "Of course you don't. Ever since you sent the knights away, you do nothing but deprive me of my fun! Frankly, it's getting dull. I crave excitement, and action! This woman spoiled my sport by saving that stupid village, and now she'll repay me!"
As the soldiers rushed in from the other doors, Yllia let out a curse and spun to face them - just barely catching movement from Teagan out of the corner of her eye. She sounded another curse as she managed to block his first strike, then hit him with a knockback spell in an attempt to get him down and out of the fray. She really didn't want to kill the man if she could help it. She didn't want to kill any of them – none of their sudden attackers were undead.
"Knock them out!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Avoid killing them if you can!"
The order turned out to be easier than she expected – though numerous, the demon's thralls managed to go down fast enough, and to Yllia's relief none of them had suffered any mortal injury.
When the last of the guards had fallen upon the ground (and disarmed and restrained for good measure), Yllia cast a look around for any sign of Connor – but the boy had run from the room in the commotion. He was definitely still in the castle, however – Yllia could sense the demon's magic like a heavy fog.
"Teagan! Teagan, are you all right?" Isolde was panicked as she hurried to Teagan's side and grasped his arm, helping him to his feet.
Teagan let out a groan and shook his head as though to clear it. "I am…better now, I think," he said, sounding a little dazed but otherwise sane, but to Yllia's relief. "My mind is my own again."
"I'm glad to see that, Bann Teagan," Yllia said, giving him a strained smile. "You had me worried there for a moment."
"You're certain you're all right?" Alistair asked as he came to stand beside Yllia, and there was no mistaking his worry. Not that she could blame him, given everything.
Teagan looked at him wearily, and nodded. "As certain as I can be, given the circumstances," he said. He pushed his hands through his hair, the single braid that tucked away against the side of his dislodging and hanging loose. The chilling echo of Connor's voice mingling with the demon's still hung over the room despite the boy having made a run for the upper floors, and both Teagan and Isolde looked distraught at the heavy revelation of what had happened to the child.
"What do we do now?" the young bann asked helplessly, his expression pained as he looked at Yllia and Alistair. "Connor… is there nothing that can be done for him?"
"Please." Isolde looked at the elvhen mage pleadingly, all the disdain and wariness she'd held for the other woman gone in her desperation. "Save my son. I…I could not bear it if nothing could be done…"
"Never mind that you're the reason this happened in the first place," Yllia heard Alistair mutter under his breath. It was clear that Teagan heard him from the way he tensed, but Isolde was too caught up in her distress. Yllia discreetly pressed her heel down on the toe of Alistair's boot, which sadly had a lot less of an effect than she'd hoped given the strength of the steel that covered his foot. It did earn her a startled look from the warrior, at least.
Yllia bit her lip. Then, instead of answering Isolde and Teagan, she turned to look at the others. "Leliana, can you go to the courtyard and let Sten and Rhys in? It should be secure enough." She had a feeling she was going to need everyone on hand for this.
"Of course," Leliana said with a nod, turning and hurrying to do just that. Yllia's eyes met Morrigan's for a moment, and then Jowan's. She turned back to address Isolde and Teagan.
"I'm not going to lie to either of you," she said bluntly, shaking her head. "Demon possession is probably the most serious condition that can affect a mage – the Chantry doesn't make that part up." A pained sound caught somewhere between choked sob and soft keen came from Isolde. "However," she stressed the word to keep the Arlessa from having a potential breakdown, "Connor doesn't appear to be fully possessed yet. There may still be a way to save him."
"How?" Teagan and Alistair spoke in unison, both of them looking at her with full attention. Isolde had gone silent, but from the way she clasped her hands in front of her and the large, doe-eyed expression she wore Yllia was certain she was also hanging on to every word.
"As long as the demon remains inside of Connor, trying to kill it will result in his death," Yllia replied, biting her lower lip as she dredged up long forgotten demonology lessons. Really, the Circle didn't spend nearly enough attention on teaching their mages anything about the very creatures they were supposed to be protecting them from. "We have to draw the demon out of Connor somehow, and slay it while they're separated." She hesitated, and her eyes went to Alistair. "The only problem is, I'm not sure how to go about separating them. The only accounts I've read of demons giving up possession involved transferring over to another mage."
"So we would need to find a mage that the demon would be willing to transfer itself into?" Isolde asked, the words tumbling from her mouth, and it was only the fact that Yllia knew the Arlessa was frantic with worry for her son (and Alistair's hand on her arm) that kept her from biting her head off. As it was she only just barely managed to keep the ice out of his voice when she answered Isolde.
"We have three mages that the demon would no doubt be happy to consider," Yllia replied curtly, "but all that would result in would be the same situation with the added complication of the demon having access to stronger magic." She glared at Isolde, not-so-diplomatically stating with her eyes that she wasn't about to volunteer herself or any of her friends for the task.
She was glad to see that Teagan looked just as displeased with the idea, though it was displeasure mixed with sorrow. "It's impossible, then," he said heavily. "If the price is that heavy to pay, then we daren't consider it…and we have so little time for both my brother and Connor both."
"There…there is another option." The hesitant tone of Jowan's voice drew everyone's attention to the other mage. Since entering the main hall he'd practically become a shadow, hiding behind their group, keeping absolutely quiet. Given that the person who had thrown him into the dungeon in the first place was in the room, Yllia hadn't been surprised.
Now she was, and it showed as Jowan stepped out from behind Morrigan and Leliana, who had quietly returned with the rest of their companions. He was nervous, hands clasped in front of his body and fingers fidgeting, but his steps didn't falter as he made his way to the front of the room where they stood.
"You?" A myriad of emotions danced across Isolde's face – shock, horror, and fury, all mixing and mingling as her face turned an interesting shade of purple that Yllia hadn't realized human skin could achieve. "What are you doing here? Who let you out of the dungeon?" Her rage startled Teagan, but the man had the foresight to grab her arm as she took a step forward. Perhaps it was the way that Jowan cringed under her fury – perhaps it was the way Yllia shifted her position so that she was half-standing in front of Jowan.
Yllia leveled her gaze on the Arlessa. "I freed him," she said pointedly.
Isolde looked at her, incensed. "How dare you!" she exclaimed. "What makes you believe that you have the right to free one of my prisoners? Grey Warden you may be, but in my husband's absence the house of Redcliffe falls into my care, and I will not have you tread all over it as though that means nothing!"
Yllia's already thin patience with Isolde was now hanging on by the barest of threads. She stood a slow, deliberate step forward, drew herself up to her full height, and gave the other woman a challenging look. "Your dungeons were overrun by undead. Cell or not, if I'd left him down there they would have found a way to get at him eventually – if he didn't starve in the meantime! Lecture me all you want, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat if I had to.
Isolde's eyes flashed, and she pointed an indignant finger in Jowan's direction. "He is the reason all of this has happened in the first place!" she exclaimed. "He is the reason my son…my husband… this is all his fault, regardless of whether or not he summoned those monsters!"
"He," Yllia countered icily, "happens to be a friend of mine, and I suggest you remember that – unless you'd rather I just turn and walk out of Redcliffe right now, leaving your son in the hands of the demon and your husband on his death bed?"
The silence and tension in the room grew so thick it could have been cut through with a sword, but Yllia didn't waver. Unblinkingly she held Isolde's gaze, until at last the taller woman lowered her arm and allowed Teagan to guide her back a step or two.
Jowan stared at Yllia with wide, shocked eyes as she turned her back on Isolde and focused on him. "Jowan, you were saying?" She gave him a smile, and in response his shoulders became a little less hunched, his expression a touch more confident. He hadn't expected her to stand up for him so firmly; truth be told, she hadn't expected to do so, either.
He took a deep breath. "Slaying the demon without killing Connor would be difficult on the physical plane," Jowan said, speaking more to Yllia than to anyone else, "but if we could slay the demon in the Fade, and it hasn't already taken full possession of his mind, we might be able to do it without harming him. I know of a…spell. I…loathe offering it. It would send a mage into the part of the Fade that Connor's mind is connected, where the demon is most likely dwelling."
His pause before the word 'spell' rang alarm bells within Yllia, and she asked the appropriate question even while knowing that she was not going to like the answer. "What kind of spell is this, Jowan?"
"Well…" Here came another one of Jowan's hesitations, "it's a rather average Fade spell…but it's one that requires a lot of power. Several pounds of lyrium worth."
"Oh, well then," Morrigan said with a roll of her eyes. "Just permit us to reach into our packs and retrieve the several pounds of a rather rare mineral source that everyone knows is monitored oh-so-very closely by the Chantry and difficult to get a hold elsewhere."
She'd echoed Yllia's thoughts, though with far more sarcasm, and Yllia crossed her arms over her chest with a frown. "Morrigan has a point – where would we get that sort of amplification? We don't have that much lyrium, just what we've managed to scrape together from battles." And several raw material components, but she was terrible at herbalism and always had been. She had no patience for it, preferring the fine art of blowing things up with fire. Jowan was rather skilled at the herbcraft, but she doubted they had enough materials for him to make the necessary batch in the amount of time they had.
"I know," Jowan said softly, and Yllia recognized that tone – he was about to tell her something she was not going to like. "But there's another source of power that we can use other than lyrium."
Andraste's flaming knicker-weasals! "Blood magic?" she demanded, her voice pitching just a bit higher than it ought to have. "Tell me you aren't about to suggest it!"
From the apologetic look on his face it was clear he was about to do precisely that. "Blood can provide the same amount of power that lyrium could," Jowan said, gesturing helplessly with his hands. "But in order to match the amount we'll need, it would require a lot of a person's life energy." He dropped his eyes slightly from her gaze. "…All of it, in fact."
"You're suggesting we use a human sacrifice?" Alistair exclaimed, suddenly livid as he realized what Yllia had already figured out.
"Short of taking the time to go to the Circle and try to get them to give up some of their lyrium supply, there's no other way to get the power," Jowan insisted, looking very much like he did not want to be facing off against Alistair, yet to his credit held his ground. It only made the contrast between the two men more obvious – Alistair, tall, broad-shouldered and muscled, clad from head to toe in armor, and Jowan, who had lost so much weight that in his flea-bitten, tattered robes he looked like a child playing dress-up.
Alistair's face reddened as he readied himself for a good and vocal argument - one that would probably be loud enough for the demon to hear – when Isolde's voice suddenly, shockingly, cut him off.
"I will do it," she said, her earlier anger and indignation over Jowan's presence gone as if it had never existed. She pulled away from Teagan, her eyes locked on the dark-haired mage. "If it is to save my son, I will make that sacrifice willingly."
"Isolde!" Teagan exclaimed with shock that matched Alistair and Jowan's expressions both. "What are you doing?"
Isolde looked at Teagan, her eyes shimmering with wet, unshed tears. "I am doing what I must to save my son's life," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Connor is my only child, Teagan. I am his mother. If there is anything that I can do…even this I will do, if it means giving him a chance to live." She turned away from him, back towards Jowan. "It is my decision – no one else's."
"I'm going to disagree with you on that, Arlessa Isolde," Yllia interrupted. She'd been standing to the side since Jowan's announcement, going over her thoughts as the others carried on. Alistair's outburst had given her a few much needed seconds to mull over the situation without anyone trying to talk to and interrupt her. When she had Isolde's attention, she continued. "It's not just your decision. I'm not the sort of person who would readily agree to someone sacrificing their life if there are other avenues that can be explored. As Jowan said, blood magic is only an alternative – lyrium will do the trick as well."
"But…but if the only lyrium to be found is at in the hands of the Circle…" Isolde looked anxious. She didn't want to die, Yllia could see that easily – but she wouldn't let herself do anything less than everything she could in order to save her child.
"It just so happens that as much as I'm a Grey Warden, I'm also a Harrowed Mage of the Circle," Yllia said. "Kinloch Hold is only, what…a day's travel from here?" She glanced at Alistair, who gave a slight nod of his head. Good. She and Duncan hadn't passed through Redcliffe on their way to Ostagar, she really didn't have the faintest idea.
"We can afford a day or two," Yllia replied. "If Connor – the real Connor – has managed to hold at bay this long, it stands a good chance that he can hold it back a couple more days."
"But we don't know that for sure," Teagan countered anxiously. "And what if the demon unleashes another horde of undead? I don't want to condone the use of this blood magic, but if it is the only chance we have…"
"I am willing to do this, Warden," Isolde said, a pleading, desperate note in her voice.
Yllia reached out and touched Isolde's hand, and there was no disdain from the gesture in the other woman. Whatever issues and anger there had been before, they paled before danger to her own child's safety.
"I know," Yllia said simply. "Which is why if there's even a chance that we can succeed without risking your life, we need to take it. I may not be a mother, but I am a daughter – and I can imagine how Connor would feel if he came out of this and found you gone. So we're going to do what we can to keep that from happening. All right?"
There was a flicker of understanding in Isolde's eyes, and Yllia gave a mental sigh of relief when the other woman nodded quietly. "Okay," Yllia said with a nod, signaling to Teagan with her eyes to take charge of Isolde for the time being. "Alistair, Jowan, come with me." Expecting both men to do so, she headed over to where the others were waiting.
"So we are going to the Circle of Magi?" Leliana inquired when they were gathered in a corner of the hall. She glanced over to where Teagan was quietly attempting to console and distract Isolde.
Yllia nodded. "I don't want to take more drastic measures unless our other options are exhausted," she said, "and as long as we have a chance of letting both Connor and Isolde come out of this intact, I want to try and take it."
"You are certain, then, that the boy can still be saved?" Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, are you certain?" Alistair asked anxiously.
"You all saw it – briefly, Connor was able to regain control," Yllia reminded them, looking at Morrigan first and then to Jowan, who gave a slight nod of agreement. "I'm willing to bet on the fact that if we can just get at the demon where it lives, we can spare Connor's life." She looked at Alistair. "I wouldn't take this risk if I didn't think there was a good chance of succeeding."
The depth of emotion in Alistair's hazel eyes made Yllia want to blush – she was not used to anyone looking at her with such a profound amount of relief and gratitude, and she hadn't prepared herself for it from Alistair. Leliana gave Alistair an odd, sidelong glance, but Yllia just returned Alistair's smile as calmly as she could. She'd forgotten for a moment that she was the only one who knew that Arl Eamon and his family were the closest Alistair had to actual relatives.
"This is foolishness," Sten objected crisply, fixing his gaze on Yllia without a glance to anyone else. "To spend such time traveling on a hunch when there are far more expedient options will simply give the darkspawn more time to increase their advantage. Slay the demon here, now, and draft the help of the remaining humans."
Leliana looked at him, aghast. "You would have us kill a child when there may be a chance to help him?" she hissed, her cheeks flushing with anger.
"The child is bas saarebas," Sten said with cold certainty, and although none of them had the translation for the word there was enough harsh inflection in it to make Yllia bristle. "His fate is neither uncommon nor unexpected. The woman flaunted the laws in an attempt to keep him free and now willingly offers herself as a solution to the problem – death of the child or death of the woman, either is expedient. This foray you propose is not."
"I'm not going to sacrifice either Connor or Isolde for the sake of expediency," Yllia hissed, her blue eyes flashing as she countered the Qunari's statement. "If you have a problem with that, Sten, you don't have to be here." She put just enough challenge in her words to give credence to the threat – as useful as Sten's skill and strength were, it was more useful for her to have a warrior that she could count on at her back.
He looked at her for a moment, and then gave a brief nod. As usual, his expression was impossible to read. "As you say," he said gravely, and made no move to leave. Yllia just hoped that meant the end of the arguments, at least over this matter. She had enough to deal with without having to placate a Qunari warrior. She held his eyes for a moment longer before looking back to the others.
"I want most of you to come with me," Yllia said. "Jowan, you need to stay here – and not just for the obvious reason that you going to the Circle is a bad idea."
A nervous flicker appeared in his eyes, and he nodded fervently. "I can help keep an eye on the situation here," he agreed.
Yllia nodded. "And for that reason – Morrigan, I need you to stay here, too."
Morrigan looked at her in surprise. "What?" she asked. "Why? Not that I am in any particular hurry to visit your Circle, but surely I can be more useful in a role other than baby-sitter."
"Hey…!"
"You're not Jowan's baby-sitter, Morrigan," Yllia cut in to placate her and stop Jowan's protest before it got started. "You're our insurance. We don't know for certain that the demon controlling Connor won't make a move before we get back from the Circle, so there's a chance we may have to do Jowan's ritual without the lyrium. Since he can't go into the Fade himself, you're going to have to do it, Morrigan."
"Yllia!" Alistair looked at her in alarm, no longer quite as relieved as he'd been just moments earlier.
She gave him a sharp look. "We're dealing with a demon, Alistair," she said. "And not a weak one, either. I'm not taking unnecessary chances. Jowan, Morrigan, use your judgment."
Morrigan nodded in grim understanding. "Will it only be the two of us, then?" she asked.
"Yes – I want everyone else with me – yes, Rhys, even you." she added when her mabari's ears perked hopefully. She smiled and stroked the top of his head, but the gesture was strained. "I want to head out as soon as we can get more provisions. Any objections?"
Her only responses were head shakes and worried glances, and she couldn't blame any of them in the slightest. This wasn't a good situation. Even non-mages understood the severity of dealing with demons, for no matter how much the Chantry hyped up the danger of mages themselves, possession was nothing to scoff at. There was every chance that even if they enlisted the help of the Circle, they might be too late. And even if they were able to save Connor, what would happen to him after that…
No. Best not to think too long on that. First she had to save the young mage. Then…then she would worry about what to do after that.
