disclaimer type=standard

Anything you recognise is Bioware's. I daresay anything else belongs to them too.

/disclaimer

o_ooo000ooo_o

The Seeker shook her head, looking disgusted. "You lied, directly and by omission, to your liege lord?" she said, reaching out and knocking over her king.

Kathryn gave a soft, rough chuckle. "No. He wasn't my lord at that point. And besides, I'm a Grey Warden, keeping secrets is second nature. Another game?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Of course. I should not have expected anything less. But your blasé attitude towards the danger posed by the criminals you harboured does not speak well of you. And no, one game is enough for now."

Kathryn crossed her arms, looking not in the least perturbed. "I can count on one hand the number of people whose opinion of me I care about, with fingers left over. Surely you aren't surprised that you aren't among that number?"

The Seeker crossed her own arms, mirroring the gesture. "I have heard many stories of you delving deeply into the forbidden, Warden. Rumours abound that chronicle your use of Blood Magic."

The mage rolled her eyes. "You know so much about the Wardens, yet you seem to have missed a fairly significant phrase in our stated purpose. We protect the people of Thedas from the darkspawn, by any means necessary. Not, 'by any means necessary, so long as short-sighted, power-hungry, hypocritical priests say it's okay'. Do you see the difference, or should I spell it out a little more clearly?"

Cassandra strode forward, covering the distance between them in two steps. She shoved her face close to the Warden's; so close their noses almost touched. "Are you a Blood Mage?" she demanded, wanting an answer to one of the most pressing questions she had of this mage.

Kathryn didn't flinch back, didn't even blink. "What do you think, Cassandra? Hmm? Do you think I'm a Blood Mage?"

Slowly, Cassandra pulled back. "I… no. I do not think so. Every one of the rumours I've collected are second- or third-hand accounts. I have not managed to find a single reputable person who personally witnessed you using blood to power your spells." She shook her head. "And when you were… taken… the manacles on your arms prevented you from using mana with which to cast spells. Not blood."

The tremor in the mage's hands did not go unnoticed. Cassandra filed it away. For all her courage and defiance, not to mention years of recovery, the Warden had still not completely come to terms with the ordeal she had suffered.

"I must say, I'm impressed. I haven't met many people who actively try to find evidence to counter their own beliefs."

Cassandra smirked. "Don't think I missed the fact that you didn't answer my question," she said, parroting Kathryn's words back at her.

A slow smile spread over the mage's features. "Touché . No, I am not a Blood Mage. That's not to say I haven't used Blood Mages and their research for my benefit."

That surprised her. "Oh? Leliana was quite impressed at the way you dealt with the Blood Mage Caladrius. You didn't use any of his research, despite his generous offer."

Kathryn smiled faintly at the memory. "Ah, yes. Caladrius. I found killing him very satisfying. As did Leliana, as I recall. His blatant use of Blood Magic put her in a right state. She was brutal with him."

Cassandra frowned slightly, tilting her head to one side. "Then to what research do you refer?"

Kathryn raised a fist to her mouth and coughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Avernus created an alchemical concoction that allows us to use the taint in our blood. Wardens who have imbibed his potion can invoke the taint to harm those our blood touches."

The Seeker's eyes dropped to the Warden's hands. "Your blood is a weapon?" she asked aghast, reevaluating just how dangerous this woman was, and not for the first time. There seemed to be no end to her deadly skills.

Kathryn nodded, silently.

There was a slight pause before the Seeker spoke. "Even with that power, if you truly believed that the Wardens fought the darkspawn by any necessary means, then you would have learned Blood Magic at some time. So I have to wonder why. Why have you not gone down that path?"

"I'm not sure you're ready to believe my answer."

"Ready? I am always ready to hear the truth."

Kathryn tilted her head to one side, evaluating her. Her expression indicated that she did not believe the Seeker's statement. "It's too easy."

Cassandra waited a long moment for clarification. When it became obvious it was not coming, she said, "Too easy. That's your reason for not resorting to Blood Magic?"

"Yes."

Another pause. With a barely perceptible facial tic, the Seeker said, "Would you care to elaborate?"

Kathryn shrugged. "In your time as a Seeker, you would have met many people with power. I have too. Someone like Irving, for instance, had a great deal of magical power, gained over decades. And from that, he amassed a moderate amount of political power. Yet he almost always deferred to Greagoir; he rarely ever used the power he had. He was masterful against the archdemon, make no mistake, but for the most part he was always too cautious. Someone who combines ability with restraint tends to accomplish a great deal. In the classroom."

"I was under the impression that you admired the man?"

"I detested him. He taught well, and patiently, but he could have changed the world for the better for hundreds of Circle mages. But he didn't, because he was afraid of the consequences. I respected his magical skill, but he was far too cautious in the application of power, magical or political. On the other side of the spectrum are the young templars newly assigned to the Circle. For all their pious vows of chastity and obedience, suddenly they had all this unaccustomed power over people who had no recourse against their abuses." At the Seeker's narrowed eyes, she quickly raised a hand and continued, "I'm not about to launch into another rant against the Circle. I'm contrasting the different ways people react when given power. Some fear using it, others revel in it."

"I see."

Kathryn considered the Seeker. "I have my doubts, but perhaps you do. Well, that is my answer. It is too easy. Someone who is suddenly given power is often ill-equipped to use it wisely. Many Blood Mages flounder quickly; they have suddenly increased horizons, and so they tend to over-extend themselves in order to attain their goals too quickly. They make mistakes, or even come close to dying, and they then end up bargaining for more power, without the step of the process where they learn from suffering the consequences of their actions. But you see, the more you bargain with a demon, the higher the price gets, and the less you get in return."

Cassandra frowned slightly, considering the elf's words. "You fear it could control you?"

The Warden sighed. "No. I knew you wouldn't understand. The power I've gained, I've worked for. I've drained myself to exhaustion to keep a companion alive, and then forced myself to keep casting through shaking hands. I've drunk so much lyrium in one go that my piss glowed blue for a week afterwards. I've spent unending weeks maintaining so many protective spells on my companions and me that I could barely cast a simple hex. But you see, all that has made me stronger. The power that I have - I've worked for it, I've been hurt for it, and I've killed for it. It is more power than any Circle mage has dreamed of, but for all that, I know I can control it."

The Seeker observed the mage for a long moment. "I think I understand. It is not the fear that it would control you, but the fear that you would use it unwisely."

A nod. "Close enough."

Cassandra guessed that she would not get much further with this line of questioning. Kathryn Surana was not a Blood Mage, a scenario that had terrified almost every priest in Thedas. "How did Teyrn Fergus react to the maleficarum in the tower?"

Kathryn laughed softly. "Not well. Not well at all."

o_ooo000ooo_o

"Kat!"

I looked over to see Jowan race out of the main entrance to the keep, his hair flying and a world-brightening smile on his face. "Jowan!" I shouted back with a wave.

I gently tugged on the reins, slowing the oxen to a halt. I stood and leapt easily down from the wagon, just in time for my oldest friend to catch me up in a hug. "I've missed you."

"So I see," I laughed, kissing him on the cheek. "Help me unload? We can catch up as we walk." I turned back to the wagon. Thunder stood on the wagon's seat, head tilted to one side. "Thunder, can you guard the wagon for me while we unload it?"

"Whuff!" he declared, stubby tail thumping a staccato on the seat.

"Good boy. Come on, Recruit!"

We walked around to the rear of the wagon. "Ooo, fresh supplies," Jowan said, rubbing his hands together. "What did you bring?"

I grinned. "A bit of this, a bit of that, and a lot of the other." I whipped off the hide blanket and pulled out one of the small sealed crates. "Here, take this."

He accepted it, hefting it up and down carefully to judge its weight. "I can carry more than this, you know."

I shook my head. "We're carrying these up several flights of stairs, and what's in them is irreplaceable. Let's each just take one at a time."

"Oh, if you say so. Did you have any trouble getting here?"

I picked up a crate for myself and shook my head. "Nope. It was pretty quiet. Of course, travelling with thirty men-at-arms tends to make for quiet travelling. Apart from the darkspawn attacks, that is."

He laughed as we entered the keep. "Hardly worth mentioning, I'll bet. Is there any news from the Circle?"

"Nope. Not since the Blight ended at least."

"No?" He sounded surprised. "I thought you were writing to a few of the mages that helped against the archdemon."

I nodded. "I am, but I haven't heard anything. Greagoir has apparently closed the Circle off. No one is getting in or out. Eamon can't even get a letter to or from Connor. I'm headed there next to see what's going on."

Jowan swallowed. "I wish I'd never..." he mumbled, looking wretched.

"I know."

We climbed the stairs in silence.

"How are you holding up?"

Jowan grimaced, panting a little. "Well, I guess I'm fine. I mean, if you hadn't let me stay here, I'd be either Tranquil or dead, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Is it that bad here, really?"

He shook his head. "No, not really. Avernus is... well, he's really creepy." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "He still makes my flesh crawl, Kat."

"Can you stand his company for a little longer? I'm on my way to the Circle, and I hardly think it's safe to take you there."

He looked down, ashamed. "I must sound ungrateful. You conscripted me, I know, but until I become a Warden I'm still going to be in danger, aren't I?"

I gave a low laugh. "Even after you go through the Joining, I imagine you'll be a target. I still am; the Grand Bitch sent me a really snotty letter demanding to know when I would be surrendering to the Circle now that the Blight was over. Well, she used the word 'returning' but the meaning was clear. They can't stand a mage being out from under their feet."

Jowan looked shocked. "But I've read the treaties; we've got copies here in the tower. The Chantry has no jurisdiction over Grey Wardens."

I shrugged. "There haven't been any Warden mages in Ferelden since the rebellion. Well, except for Avernus, obviously. The Chantry have become accustomed to thinking of themselves as the guardians of all mages. I'm doing what I can to disabuse them of the notion in my case, but templars are notoriously hard of learning. It will take some time. Speaking of the Joining, These cases we're carrying contain one of the required ingredients."

"Oh? What is it?"

"You'll find out," I said with a smirk. His expression fell. "Oh come on, the Wardens are an order of secretive warriors. You can't expect me to just spill them all for you before you Join."

He sighed. "I suppose."

We crossed the suspended stone bridge to Avernus' tower. Looking down, I could see Thunder standing guard over the rest of the archdemon blood. He looked to be taking his assignment very seriously, given the wide berth the workmen were giving the wagon.

A voice from the tower entrance said, "Ah, I thought I felt a familiar Warden's presence. Welcome back, sister."

I forced myself to smile at the creepy old maleficar. "Hello Avernus. How are you?"

He gave me a smile of his own, one that looked almost peaceful. It was a shock to see it on his tired old face. "I am content; my experiments have been more productive recently. Jowan is a more than adequate research assistant. Even without the Circle library, he is knowledgeable about the advances in magical theory that have passed me by."

I glanced at Jowan, noting that he was blushing at the praise. "Yes, he was always the first person I turned to for assistance with my homework essays on spell theory."

He nodded, holding the door open for us. "Did you bring me some samples of the plant you described?"

I nodded. "I did, but I had to use some of them. They are in another crate in the courtyard. Where can we stack these?"

He eyed the wooden crates curiously before pointing off to one side. "There is a clear section of wall over there. What do they contain?"

I smiled. "Something I picked up after defeating the archdemon. We need it for the Joining ritual."

The old mage's eyes lit up. "Ah, splendid! How many vials do you have there?"

"Fifty in each crate. Standard size."

"A hundred standard vials will supply the Wardens of Ferelden for quite some time. Used sparingly, that may well be enough to last until the next Blight. Splendid!"

I coughed. "Er, no. These are just the two crates we carried up here. There are a further fourteen crates in the wagon."

He gaped at me. It was quite amusing to see that expression on such an old man. "You have eight hundred vials of archdemon blood? Did Weisshaupt fail to requisition some for the Wardens of other nations?"

Jowan whimpered, suddenly looking as though he was about to drop his crate. "Archdemon blood?"

I rolled my eyes, and Avernus looked rather abashed at his outburst. "No, they have staked their claim. The Second Warden actually came in person to collect the Anderfels Wardens' allocation. Go and put the crate down before you drop it, Jowan."

Avernus looked abashed. "My apologies for my slip. I had not ever thought to see so much archdemon blood in one place. Indeed, I for many years I had not thought I would ever see any again. With that much blood, well, just imagine the experiments I could do." His voice trailed off and his eyes grew distant.

I was suddenly a little more nervous about my decision to store the blood here - with a pair of maleficarum scholars. Who knows what Avernus' insane genius combined with Jowan's impressive spell theory could create with such access. "Wardens from all over Thedas have already come and taken their allocations. I just secreted a dozen crates away from the bulk of the harvest before they arrived. I didn't want Ferelden to lose out. There was quite a bit of bickering as it was over which country should get what amount. We'd have been left with almost nothing had I not been there. As it was, I was only officially permitted to keep four crates. I was told that if the Ferelden Wardens ever ran low, we could petition Weisshaupt for more." I paused. "To tell the truth, I think Helmut suspected that I had a hidden stash, but I doubt he realised how much I'd hidden."

Avernus rubbed his hands together happily. "You have done well, Commander. Very well indeed. Shall I assist in unloading the blood?"

"That won't be necessary, Jowan and I can take care of it. It will just take a while to bring them up one at a time. We need to be careful. I've put what protective enchantments on the vials I could, and they're packed with straw and hessian, but the blood is particularly difficult to store safely. Dropping a crate would be disastrous."

"Very well. I did note that there was an increase in activity in the courtyard. The Dryden merchants have been agreeable neighbours to date. They have left me to my own devices and kept the noise to a minimum. They have even shared their meals occasionally. I understand the young nephew is skilled in snaring game."

I considered explaining that the thought of annoying an ancient maleficar who dabbled in demon summoning was probably what kept the neighbours from disturbing him too much. I dare say it also accounted for most of their generosity with food. I thought better of it. "The Teyrn of Highever and his brother are downstairs with a team of workmen and several wagons of supplies. They intend to get the Peak weather-proof and habitable again."

"The good news is simply flowing today. I was merely looking forward to examining the plant samples. Now it seems that Soldier's Peak is on the way to resurrection."

I nodded. "The plants are dried, unfortunately; it was all I could get in Denerim. They do work, however; the Teyrn's brother has a mabari who was mildly tainted. I managed to cure him with a salve made with the dried plant. I'm planning to head down into the Wilds in a few weeks to find some fresh samples."

"What plant are you talking about?" Jowan asked, returning from putting the crate down in a corner.

"It fights the Blight sickness. Well, in mabari at least," I said, moving over to the corner and placing my crate on top of the one Jowan had already placed. "Before Ostagar, I collected some for the Kennel Master to help treat Thunder - he suffered dreadfully with the taint. After the battle, he somehow managed to find me, and he was perfectly healthy."

"A conundrum," Avernus added. "Established wisdom suggests that Blight sickness is always fatal, and even successfully Joining the Wardens only postpones death. That a common flower has the capability to cure, or at least delay the sickness onset is astonishing, even if it is only effective on one species."

I nodded. "I'll bring that crate up next. It has a few other things you may find useful. Flasks, lyrium powder, other herbalism reagents, a few poisons."

Avernus' eyes were bright. "With such supplies, I will be able to restart many of my abandoned research paths anew. With study, I believe I may be able to use this plant to improve the success rate of the Joining ritual."

I shuddered, remembering my own Joining. "That would be very helpful. Come on Jowan, let's go get some more crates."

"Success rate?" Jowan whispered as we made our way downstairs.

I grunted. "Yes. The Joining is dangerous."

"What happens to those who fail?"

I winced. "Think of it as the Warden's Harrowing."

There was a long pause. "Oh."

I made a face. "Don't. Please? You're acting like Ser Jory, a knight at my Joining. He panicked, and died. Don't approach the Joining in fear."

"But it's dangerous!"

"Yes, and you've run from danger all your life, except to learn bloody Blood Magic! Approach it like that. Think of it as something that will enable you to emerge out from under people with power over you. Besides, the Joining ritual was developed with Blood Magic. If anyone is more likely to survive, it's a maleficar."

He smiled at that. "Well, maybe."

We made our way out to the wagon again, where a workman begged me to ask Thunder to let him unhitch the ox pulling the wagon. I chuckled at the literal way my war hound interpreted my orders. Jowan and I assisted in releasing the beast. Well, tried to assist. Jowan made a mess of things, managing to twist the lines. I sent him away with another blood-filled crate and helped the workman free the animal. I turned back to the wagon to pick up another crate only to see that someone else had braved Thunder's displeasure.

Fergus watched Jowan intently as he entered the keep. "It was my understanding that you were the only Warden mage in Ferelden," he challenged, turning back to me.

"A common misconception," I replied. I noted his expression. "He's only a Warden Recruit. Look, it's complicated."

"It must be. You called him Jowan."

I nodded, just knowing where this was going.

Fergus continued, jabbing a finger at Jowan's retreating back. "He's the apostate and maleficar who poisoned Arl Eamon?"

I stared at him, not bothering to confirm or deny.

The Teyrn's eyes narrowed. "Well?" he demanded.

I raised my chin. "Well what?" I challenged.

"Look, you told me that you recruited this Jowan out from under Eamon's thumb, but I have no reports of him being present in your company afterwards. I had assumed that he had perished during the Blight."

"Why does this matter? Jowan is a Warden recruit, beyond the Chantry's reach. Beyond civil reach too."

His voice dropped to a growl. "It matters because if there is a blood mage residing in my teyrnir, I want to know about it!"

I sighed. This was going to be difficult. "Very well, grab a crate. I'll take you upstairs and introduce you to the maleficarum of the Peak's tower."

He took a step before he stiffened, apparently shocked. "Maleficar-um? Plural? There's more than one?"

I shrugged, figuring that I'd best get the bad news out in one go. "Only two. There are only two upstairs," I said, trying to suggest that it could be so much worse.

"Only two?" he said, a bit weakly.

"Yes. Come on. They won't bite."

"No, but they may control my mind and make me jump off the tower," he said sourly, picking up one of the larger crates in the wagon.

"Unlikely," I retorted. "Why go to all the trouble of cutting yourself, casting an unreliable spell and mentally wrestling with someone just to get them to jump? It's far less effort to simply blast you off the tower with lightning."

He shook his head. "You're not making a case for them being harmless."

I chuckled. "Harmless, no, they are not harmless. Well, Jowan comes close."

"He poisoned Eamon! He's not even remotely close to being harmless."

"He is, actually. His control over elemental magic is poor, he can barely call forth enough power to actually injure someone. His entropic spells are woeful, and healing magic is usually incompatible with Blood Magic."

"He's a maleficar - by definition he's not harmless."

"A maleficar who gets faint at the sight of blood."

"He... what?" Fergus said, suddenly confused.

I laughed softly. "I've seen him cast just one Blood Magic spell, and that was non-lethal, to escape being executed. He can't stand the sight of blood."

Fergus' mouth opened and closed. "Really?"

I nodded with a rueful expression. "Odd, don't you think? Or perhaps ironic is a better description. He only learned Blood Magic from a book because his other spells were so weak. He's a born scholar - not a practitioner - of magic."

"So he was after more power?"

"No," I disagreed. "Jowan was terrified of having to take his Harrowing. If you fail it, you die. If you don't have spells of sufficient power, you die. If you succumb to the demons, you are killed. If you don't take your Harrowing, you are made Tranquil, which effectively means you die. He was terrified of death, so he decided to learn forbidden magic. He didn't summon a demon and make a deal for the knowledge, he learned it from a book."

"Is there a difference?" Fergus challenged.

"Sure," I replied. "A demon will demand something in return for the knowledge; your soul perhaps, or your body, or freedom. Learning it through a book has none of those risks."

"Even so, it can't be... Wait! Is that why you collected that darkspawn blood? For them? What are they going to do with it?"

I stared at him. How had he known? I sighed. "With all due respect Fergus, that's none of your business."

He rounded on me. "I disagree, so I'm making it my business. I wont stand for anyone in my teyrnir using blood magic!" he spat. At my raised eyebrows, he added, "Or any organisation!"

I was suddenly glad he hadn't picked up a crate containing archdemon blood. "Oh? I look forward to watching your efforts to expel the Chantry from your teyrnir then," I spat back. "It should be entertaining."

He blinked. "What? No one in the Chantry uses blood magic! Such an accusation is obscene!"

I barked a sarcastic laugh. "Sorry, Teyrn Fergus, but you are wrong. The templars forcibly take blood from children."

His face reddened alarmingly. "How dare you!"

I bent over and placed my crate on the floor. "I dare," I emphasised, "because it's the truth. Here, look!" I said, unbuckling the armour on my left arm. "The day I arrived at the Circle, two templars held me down while a third cut my arm open. They took a vial of my blood to make my phylactery. I was five."

He stared blankly at the scar on the inside of my elbow.

I stepped closer. "They don't heal the cut either, oh no. They let you scar, so that you always have a reminder that you are marked property of the Chantry. I screamed in pain and terror as they did it, and got nothing but the back of a templar fist across my face for my trouble."

He tore his eyes away from the scar. "W-why?"

I sneered. "So that if ever we escape their tower prison, we can be tracked down like animals. Tracked with damned blood magic." I buckled my armour back on.

He shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said faintly.

"Well, go and ask the priest at your castle. I'm not going to bother convincing you. If she doesn't prevaricate and confirms it, I'll wager she'll justify it as not being real blood magic, or that it's blood magic for a good cause." I picked up the crate. At that moment, Jowan came down the stairs into view. "Hey Jowan," I called. "Show the Teyrn here your scar from when they made your phylactery."

Jowan looked surprised at the request, but pulled the sleeve of his robe back. The pale scar was in exactly the same position.

Fergus stared at the scar. "How old were you?"

"I was five or six," Jowan replied, his tone questioning.

"You don't know how old you were?" Fergus snapped.

Jowan shrank back from the accusatory tone. "I don't know how old I was when I was sent to the Circle, Your Grace. For that matter, I don't exactly know how old I am now. The templars do not keep our personal details when we are brought to the tower."

I jerked my head towards Fergus. "The Teyrn here is having some trouble believing that the Chantry condones the use of blood magic, but only so long as they're the ones using it."

"Ah," Jowan said sadly. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but that's true. The templars make a phylactery for every child mage they bring to the Circle. Their creation and use both involve blood magic."

Fergus looked horrified. "Why? Why do that do that?"

Jowan shrugged. "There is, well, power in blood, for want of a better word. Power that cannot be masked or hidden. With a sample of a mage's blood, you can follow that mage anywhere. It takes blood magic to do so, but the ecclesiastical hierarchy have long accepted their own use of it."

The Teyrn looked between us. "It just seems so, well, hypocritical of them."

Jowan and I nodded in unison. "It does, doesn't it?" I said with a small smile. Perhaps there was hope for this noble.

Fergus' eyes narrowed. "I'd still like to meet the other maleficar. What is his name?"

o_ooo000ooo_o

"Avernus," I said, gesturing to my side. "I'd like you to meet Teyrn Fergus Cousland. Fergus, this is Avernus, Senior Warden Mage in every sense of the title."

Fergus bowed stiffly, his eyes hard, yet curious. Avernus acknowledged the bow gracefully, returning the gesture with an expression of complete serenity. "Your Grace, welcome to Soldier's Peak. I sincerely appreciate your donation of materials and labour to weather-proof the fortress. It will be wonderful to have it habitable once again."

"You are welcome, Warden Avernus," he replied. "Forgive me for being blunt, but I am informed that you practice Blood Magic."

Avernus raised an eyebrow and looked at me. "Oh? How charming. I was under the impression that the Commander preferred to keep my research topics confidential."

I put the next crate of blood down and shrugged. "What can I say? Fergus here, or perhaps his brother, saw me take some blood from a darkspawn corpse. That naturally led to questions about use of Blood Magic, which Fergus has some issues with. And he recognised Jowan's name." I grinned at the Teyrn. "Apparently being an apostate, maleficar and noble-poisoning assassin breaks more laws at once than any other action."

Fergus flushed. "This is not a joke! I want to know what it is you do here!"

Avernus shrugged. "We develop new and better ways to kill darkspawn and demons," he replied easily.

The Teyrn blinked. "I... I beg your pardon?"

Avernus shuffled over to his bookshelves, selecting a tome. "There is great power in blood, which can be used for good or ill, just as any other power. In Grey Wardens, whose blood is tainted, this is doubly so. My research delves into the mysteries of the darkspawn taint, and developing that power to make Grey Wardens more effective banes of demons and darkspawn."

I grinned at Fergus, who grimaced and said snarkily, "I may have political power, yes," before turning back to Avernus and continuing, "but I cannot control someone's mind on a whim!"

"Oh?" Avernus said mildly. "Nobles have a long history of kidnapping the children of their opponents to force them to do their bidding. Such an act is far more reliable and effective than the vagaries of Blood Magic."

"Before Fergus explodes with frustration," I said, hoping to stave off an argument I knew would doom Soldier's Peak to be at constant odds with Highever, "are there any secrets that are historically divulged to the ruling classes? Perhaps if he knew more, he wouldn't have so much to distrust."

The old mage eyed me warily. "Kings are given some tidbits, yes, as are the Divines, both Black and White. This is to ensure that the treaties we have are upheld. Mere nobles, however esteemed their rank, are simply expected to obey."

I shrugged. "Well, that leads to disaster when the King is an idiot and the Teyrn is in charge," I said, thinking back to Ostagar. "Fergus here is closest thing Ferelden has to an heir to the throne."

Avernus pursed his lips. "Is securing Teyrn Fergus' approval that important?"

I nodded, given the political discussion between the Cousland brothers I overheard. "Yes. I'm not sure if Soldier's Peak falls in the Amaranthine arling, but it is within the Highever teyrnir. Either way, Fergus has a major interest in it. And unless a miracle occurs, he'll be our next king."

Fergus rounded on me. "What? Is His Majesty ill?"

I sighed and shook my head. "No. That's not what I mean. Grey Wardens master the darkspawn taint when we Join. We use darkspawn blood in the ceremony. If we survive, we become immune to blight sickness, but we pay a heavy price for that power. One of the prices is significantly reduced fertility." I waved a hand. "There you go. Broad explanations for the blood I collected, the secrecy involved and the fact that you are likely to be the next king."

o_ooo000ooo_o

"That was Teyrn Fergus' introduction to Soldier's Peak? I fail to see just how he could go from fearing magic to being your ardent supporter."

Kathryn sighed. "For someone who prides herself on getting the entire story, you certainly don't seem to bother waiting for the whole story before forming opinions."

Cassandra frowned. "You have mentioned repeatedly that he was angry and antagonistic when confronting you and your Warden allies. And there has been no indication that his views were softening towards you."

Kathryn sighed deeply. "People can be confrontational for all sorts of reasons, Cassandra. Fear, jealousy, hatred. But consider what you know of Fergus. He is polite, considerate and dutiful. He has been given an extensive, and expensive, education, and is well regarded by both his allies and political opponents. For someone like that to lose civility means that they are truly angry. And Fergus wasn't angry at me, or Jowan, or at magic. He was angry because I was challenging his beliefs."

Cassandra drew a hitched breath. "Ah, I see," she said, turning to look out the thin window. She knew better than most that people got angry when their cherished beliefs were shown to be false.

The Warden gave a rough chuckle. "Yes. I suspect you do. Varric told me that you got a little angsty at times when he told you something you didn't want to hear."

The Seeker gave a half nod before gasping and snapping her head around to face the elf. "Varric! When did you meet that dwarf?"

Kathryn leaned forward. "Recently; he had some information I needed. But that comes later in the tale."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but instinctively knew that pushing the issue was futile. "So what does come next?"

"We left the workmen under the direction of Levi's brother, and headed on to Highever. Have you ever been to Highever?"

"No, I have not."

Emerald eyes lost their focus. "It's beautiful. Castle Cousland itself is quite imposing, it is built on a rocky outcrop above the deepwater harbour. But the city is amazing. It's not as big as Denerim, but the people who live there just seem happier. Maybe it's the climate, maybe its the lack of pretentious, toadying nobles. But I enjoyed my brief stay there." She shook her head and focused on the Seeker once more. "The different expressions on the Cousland brothers told the circumstances in which they had left. Fergus looked excited, by all accounts exceedingly happy to be home. Aedan's expression was pensive, even nervous."

Cassandra frowned. "Did something happen there? Something that made the Teyrn more favourable to you?"

"Blessed Andraste, you have no idea, do you? The Revered Mother at Highever came to you with a sob story about how Fergus kicked her and all the other traitors out, but she didn't mention anything about her own complicity, did she? And you didn't bother asking."

"Tell me," the Seeker said, inwardly wincing and preparing for the worst. "I need to know everything."

"All right. When we got to the Castle a few days later, the shit flew everywhere."

o_ooo000ooo_o

The walk through the city was... nice, sort of. The two brothers were greeted with cheers and an impromptu festival. It was pleasant to see everyone happy in a city devastated by treason. I marched next to Captain Francois and behind the pair of grey horses, stepping over horse shit and occasionally holding my breath.

The approach to the castle proved to me that Howe, for all his faults, was not an idiot. It would take perhaps a force of twelve or fifteen times the number of defenders to take the fortress by strength of arms. The road was not so much laid as grafted to the land, and the rocky outcrop had its own ideas about the easiest way to the top. Attacking from within would be the only practical way to win the day.

Well before we got to the outer gate, I could tell that there was something wrong. Something metaphysical; it rasped at my mage senses, like a rough armour strap on a blister. At my side, Thunder whined. I drew a breath, raising a hand. "Wait," I said, listening without my ears, feeling without my fingers. "The Veil is... not right. Stretched. Thin. Something is wrong."

Aedan turned in his saddle to face me and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I've felt this before. A couple of times. The terrible events here have, er, well, I suppose 'polluted' the area is as good a description as any. The Veil between this world and the Fade is weak." I turned to face Fergus, noting the suddenly terrified looks on the faces of the nearby locals. "Send anyone not armed and armoured away. Get them out of here."

The Teyrn nodded and dismounted. He handed the reins to Captain Francois and said, "Captain, clear the castle and its surrounds. Everyone needs to be evacuated until we know what is going on."

"Yesser," the Captain said. He saluted, turned and began barking orders.

"Warden-Commander, what do you suggest?" Fergus asked, his tone cool and polite. Just as it had been since the Peak.

I closed my eyes, trying to get a better feel for the damage done to the Veil. "It is not too bad, I've seen worse. It's…" I opened my eyes. "Give me a couple of hours and I can repair the damage. I'll need whatever lyrium is available at the Chantry, and you'll need to keep everyone away until it's done. I will need to ensure that all extra-planar entities are exterminated first though."

"Extra-what?" Aedan asked, sounding confused.

"Demons," Fergus replied tonelessly. "That's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Yes," I replied, not willing to offer unnecessary hope.

He nodded and issued some orders as I led us through the portcullis and into the main courtyard. The unnatural stink of demons was stronger here.

The massive double doors to the castle suddenly burst open, causing us all to jump, and scores of templars stormed out in a panicked rush. Grown men and women, armed and armoured, sprinted by, shrieking in terror. One templar tripped over and landed with a crash in front of us, his helmet shooting off to one side. He looked to fit the part of grizzled veteran well, with iron-grey hair at his temples, an eyepatch and scars of various age on his face. His high-pitched shrieks of terror sounded as though they should have emanated from the throat of a five-year-old girl. He scrabbled and scrambled to his feet, desperate to flee whatever horrific construct resided in Castle Cousland.

Fergus and Aedan watched in drop-jawed amazement as the horde of holy warriors fled the castle. We turned to gaze upon whatever nightmarish terror had routed such a potent force. As one, we readied ourselves to valiantly lay down our lives in defence of those whom swore their allegiance to the Couslands.

It was a rage demon. A tiny one. Perhaps describing it as a brassed-off demon, or an irritation demon would be closer. No more than a foot tall, it squeaked with a voice like a baritone mouse, and charged at us.

I raised a foot, and stamped down, ending the threat. I turned back to the Cousland brothers, nonchalantly shrugged and said...

o_ooo000ooo_o

"What?" Kathryn asked.

Cassandra glared at her. "Why? Why lie? What purpose does it serve?"

"Oh come on, Cassandra! Liven up. It's fun to make templars sound idiotic."

There was no response.

"You're a real stick-in-the-mud, you know."

The Seeker narrowed her honey-coloured eyes dangerously, but she did not respond.

The mage sank back down and crossed her arms with a sulky expression. "Fine. But you are, you know."

o_ooo000ooo_o

The leftmost of the massive double doors to the castle burst open, and a single templar stumbled through. He looked surprised to see people in the courtyard. "Back!" he shouted at us as he shoved his shoulder against the door, slamming it shut once again. "Get back! There are demons loose in the castle!"

Fergus hissed an oath under his breath, but declared, "I am the Teyrn of Highever. What in the Maker's name is going on?"

"My Lord, er, Your Grace!" the templar blurted, arranging himself into some semblance of attention. "The castle is haunted, it has been for months, ever since Howe's men abandoned Highever."

Fergus growled, "The castle is not prepared for my arrival? Why was I not informed?"

The templar swallowed. "Um, the Revered Mother declared the castle proper off limits. No one was permitted to enter."

Fergus clenched his fists, radiating anger. "What of the servants?"

"They were dismissed, my Lord. With the castle sealed, there was no need to keep them on. But when we received word that you were returning, the Revered Mother sent us to cleanse it. There were ghosts before, but now demons roam the halls! We must flee!"

Fergus snarled at the man. "I refuse to allow my ancestral home to house demons!"

I cleared my throat. "Give me a couple of men-at-arms. Take the rest of your men and secure the perimeter while I clear the castle for you. The Fade, the Veil and demons are well within my area of expertise, Fergus. Don't argue with me."

The brothers exchanged glances, and then, in unison, drew their weapons. "A Cousland does not send others to do what they fear to do," Fergus said flatly. "This is our home, and we will defend it."

Captain Francois and the nameless templar decided to argue, however. The Captain in particular spent quite some time trying to convince Fergus to let him send some good men with me instead. I could tell from the set of the Teyrn's chin however that he wouldn't be successful. Eventually, the career military man acquiesced to his immediate commander's instructions, and set about his orders with offended efficiency.

I glanced at each of the brothers, noting the determination in their stances. I grinned and cast a few spells, one shielding me by putting me partially in the Fade, another augmenting my swordsmanship, another hardening my skin and the last temporarily enchanting our weapons with elemental cold. "Have either of you fought demons before?" At their negative responses, I responded, "Well then, my lords, you're in for a real treat. Hunting demons is very, very exhilarating."

The templar didn't appear to want to give up arguing. "Are you insane? You can't just take the Teyrn into a castle full of demons! And you can't go hunting demons without help! You need a legion of templars at least!"

I glanced at him, then dismissed him with a wave of my hand. "Just open the doors and prepare for any survivors we find."

Fergus turned to his brother. "Ready?"

Aedan nodded. "Let's just do this and stop talking about it."

We marched past the trembling, speechless templar and into the castle. Once the doors behind us were closed, Aedan began shaking.

"What is it, Pup?" Fergus asked.

The younger brother swallowed. "Nothing. I just," he paused, and took a deep breath to still his trembling. "Nothing," he finished forcibly.

I looked Aedan up and down. "What happened exactly?"

He frowned at me. "Nothing! I'm fine," he said hotly.

I shook my head. "No, I mean the night you left here. What happened? I know you don't like to talk about it, but the Veil is thinner in places. Anything you can tell us will help me figure out what to expect."

He opened his mouth with a snarl on his face, but stopped before uttering a word. With a sigh, he said, "Sorry," he said, before swallowing and replying, his voice thick with emotion, "I was asleep in my bedchamber when Shadow woke me. There was an odd noise outside. My," he coughed, gave me an abashed look and continued, "my lover opened the door and was struck with arrows." He took a deep breath. "I killed the men who killed her and joined forces with Mother. We checked on Oriana and Oren, but they had already been…" he looked over at his brother, sympathy etched on his handsome features.

Fergus blinked rapidly, and ran the back of his gauntleted hand across his eyes, leaving red scratches on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "What then?" he asked gruffly, his voice thick.

"We fought our way from the Atrium to the Main Hall, looking for Father. A couple of servants joined us, and we killed several of Howe's men." He gestured with a nod towards the arms Fergus bore. "Mother insisted that we collect the Highever sword and shield to prevent Howe from getting his hands on them. In the main hall we found Ser Gilmore holding the main doors fast. He said that Father was dead; he'd witnessed him being struck down with a knife to the back."

"Oh, Pup," Fergus said, his voice full of sympathy.

Aedan swallowed. "Ser Gilmore insisted we leave immediately, while he stayed behind to cover our retreat. Mother, Shadow and I led all the servants we could find out the hidden passage in the kitchen. Out of nearly seventy people in the castle that night, only twelve of us escaped alive."

I frowned, thinking hard about where the corruption would be centred. "Those bedchambers - who did they belong to?"

"Everyone. Our entire family had chambers off the one antechamber. Mother and Father had the master suite, I had one, and the last belonged to Fergus and Oriana." His eyes flicked over to his brother. "And Oren. He stayed with his mother that night. Mother's friend Lady Landra stayed in one of the guest chambers, and I think her son Dairren was in the other, but I never saw him in the battle."

Fergus took a deep breath, and let it out with a rush. "What does that mean?" he demanded of me.

I pursed my lips together. "It means that there are two probable places for the centre of the corruption. The spot where your father died, and the room where your family died. I can sense more than one powerful demon nearby. I suspect they are Desire Demons, given the events here." I reached out and grabbed Fergus by his shoulder. "You will likely be tempted with illusions. At a guess, I'd say you will see your wife and child, alive and well. Be prepared for that. It will be a lie." I reached out to include Aedan. "You will likely see your parents as well. Remember that they are not real, despite the fact that you will be able to see, hear and even smell them."

Fergus nodded with a sharp jerk. "Understood."

I doubted it, but nodded anyway. "Let's get to work then."

We worked surprisingly well together, with Fergus and I the armoured rocks behind which Aedan launched lethally accurate arrows. With Thunder and Shadow flanking us and my magic only used to initially tear enemy formations apart, we made short work of the numerous, but relatively weak demonic forces. We killed a hunger demon in the chapel and clashed with a revenant on the spot where Aedan had been told his father had been struck down. Neither presented any particular difficulty to a group so well equipped and skilled, though Aedan did let out a girlish shriek of surprise when he was pulled through the air by the revenant. I protected him with an impenetrable field of force as he recovered his wits, while Fergus hacked away at the unholy creature with Thunder and Shadow at his side, both crushing undead limbs in their jaws.

Fergus was a skilled, if unimaginative warrior, taking no risks and not straying from his strict, formal training. His stances and strikes had a precision borne of many long hours on the practice field and studying duelling theory, rather than extensive life-and-death melee. His strength was in defence, allowing his exceptional shield to soak up damage, before striking exactly when and where he should. Solid and dependable.

Aedan was brilliant with his bow and, when forced to drop it, lethal in close combat with his short bladed swords. He moved as though he owned the battlefield, pouncing and striking with the same sort of accuracy as his brother, but with ugly, unchivalrous strikes learned in back-alleys and brawls. His defences were not strong - I had to heal several minor cuts - which suggested that he was used to shorter contests of small numbers, rather than large battles. Fast and unpredictable.

They were not as skilled a pair as Alistair and Zevran, or Sten and Leliana, but then, very few people were.

A dozen or so dead templars littered the castle, though we did find a few still resisting. One even offered to join us, but I turned his offer down, not trusting that he wouldn't drain me at an inopportune moment. Fergus barked orders to regroup at the main entrance to the hall, and we continued on our way, easily butchering the fire-based demons with our cold-infused weapons.

With the main part of the castle cleared, we began ascending a gentle ramp towards an atrium. After a sharp left, we encountered a few more rage demons, and an open door to an antechamber. Aedan gestured at the doors to either side. "Guest bedrooms, the door ahead leads to the family's chambers. He glanced at his brother, his expression questioning.

Fergus nodded. "I'm ready Pup."

Aedan nodded back. "Let's do this."

I nodded. "All right. Thunder, hold back until I say. Er, Shadow, you too, please. Demons don't show their full strength at first. We need to draw them out before hitting them hard."

Thunder gave an enthusiastic bark of acceptance. Shadow looked to Aedan first, but also gave an agreeable bark at his master's nod. Slowly, we made our way closer to the heart of the corruption. Both war-hounds growled at a closed, oak door.

With his jaw clenched with determination, Fergus reached out and turned the handle.

"Boys? My boys! You're alive!"

Fergus and Aedan stiffened as the gaped at the solitary figure. Standing in the antechamber servicing three bedchambers stood a handsome man of late-middle years, dressed in fine noble clothing and sporting the Highever symbol on his breast.

"F-father?" Fergus breathed, hesitating.

"Demon," I reminded him in a sing-song voice, conjuring a shard of stone and sending it hurtling at the figure.

The demon wearing Bryce Cousland's form grimaced, accepted the blow and staggered back a few steps, its expression twisting into an inhuman rictus. "Fools!" it spat in a voice that echoed in a way no human voice could manage.

It raised its arms and muttered a few words. Several pools of living flame appeared on the stone floor, and spindly arms reached through each, dragging a formless body of fire into the world. I raised my hands and blasted a pair of them with a frigid cone of magic, freezing them solid. "Thunder! Tackle!"

Thunder bolted straight through the demons of fire, barrelling the figure of Bryce Cousland to the floor and worrying at its throat.

The doors to the two bedchambers on either side of the room opened, and demons stepped through. To our left, the demon had taken the form of an elf maiden, pretty and delicate. On our right, an attractive human female with braided hair, her features a little more exotic than the typical Fereldan noblewoman.

Both brothers hesitated for a second, but both entered the fray with determination. The elf was struck by several arrows from Aedan's bow, while Fergus refused to look at the human woman, focusing on hacking the rage demons into tiny pieces.

It was a difficult battle, restricted as we were by the lack of cover, limited manoeuvring room and the multitude of enemies. My magic was sufficient to significantly weaken the demon wearing the human female form before I was obliged to engage it. As I pushed Spellweaver's tip into its heart, it scrabbled at my arm. It's dark, filthy claws opened a pair of gashes on the unarmoured underside of my forearm. It lost its human form as it died, turning back into a Desire Demon. By the time the last demon fell to Fergus' blade, we were all panting with effort.

Aedan knelt over the demon still in his elvish lover's form, which also began shifting back to its base form. "Iona, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

I frowned, a faint tickling in my memory, but dismissed it as unimportant at this instant. "Catch your breath, we're not done here."

Fergus jerked his head around at me. "What? Where else is there-"

The door to the master suite opened, and a short, slight figure stood in the exact centre of the doorway. "Father? Uncle?"

The Teyrn whimpered, unable to speak. Aedan whispered, "Oren?"

I mentally cursed as Fergus' defences disappeared, his sword point dropping to the floor. He started to move forward. With a grunt of effort, I dropped a field of force around him, preventing him from taking another step. My knees began trembling at the magic use. I dropped a hand to my bandoleer and slid out a bright-blue potion. I downed it in one go. It wouldn't do to take on a powerful demon while weak and drained.

"What did you do that for?" Fergus barked at me, his face mottled with rage, one hand out and hammering at my barrier. "Release me at once!"

"It's a demon, Fergus," I said wearily.

"I-" he started, before dropping his hand. "Are you sure?" he asked, turning back, his voice filled with longing.

I swapped Spellweaver over to my left hand and curled my right to let blood from my cut arm pool in my palm. Calling forth the innate power of my tainted blood, I lobbed the crimson liquid at the small form. The blood struck and acted like acid on the demonic flesh, the illusion no protection. Oren's features split and his skin ran like wax down a burning candle. He morphed into a tall, coldly beautiful Desire Demon, visibly taller than the others we'd seen. "Yup," I said probably unnecessarily. "Definitely a demon."

"Such powerful magics for an elf so small," it said, its voice low and seductive.

Fergus muttered curses under his breath. "Maker's breath! Was that… was that Blood Magic!"

I sighed, wanting to luxuriate in the sensation of lyrium flooding my limbs, not defend myself against inconvenient accusations. But events were a little pressing. "Not exactly. Quiet now, I'm busy," I snapped, sizing up the situation. If the demon was alone, we would be fine.

"Would you like more powerful magics? Think of all you could do; think of all the armoured knights of the Chantry you could kill," she whispered, her voice pitched to carry.

"Are you ready? The protective field will fail soon," I said to the Couslands.

Aedan blinked at me. "Do you, um, want to kill templars?"

I shook my head. "Not now. Ignore it. Are you ready?"

He nodded, notching an arrow and drawing a bead on the demon.

The demon did not seem fussed at all that I was ignoring it, nor at Aedan's visible threat. "Such handsome boys. Your wife loved you, you know. Would you like to see her again?"

Fergus trembled, but held his shield steady and his sword ready.

My spell failed. "Now," I shouted.

The demon clapped its hands, sending out a pulse of magic that bowled Shadow over and halted Thunder's charge. My big mabari left claw marks on the stone floor a foot long as he was shoved backwards. I felt the shockwave wash over me, but stayed on my feet. Neither brother was so lucky, Fergus fell hard and awkwardly, yelping loudly, though Aedan managed to roll backwards and rose into a crouch, discarding the arrow that had splintered on contact with the ground.

I petrified the demon, relieved that it failed to resist. I then dropped one of my more potent spells on it, crushing it in a prison of vicious force. I readied Spellweaver, and set about hacking at the petrified figure.

Fergus joined me, screaming a defiant war-cry.

It was over quickly. Fergus' third rage-fuelled swing decapitated the demon before my spell dissipated. The demon gave one final, psychic scream before fading away, sent back to the Fade. I sheathed Spellweaver with a satisfied nod. "That's the lot, I think."

Fergus dropped to one knee, sheathing his blade. He dropped his shield hand to his side and gulped deep breaths. "Are you sure?" he got out through his gasps. He pulled off his right gauntlet and wiped the sweat from his brow and tears from his eyes.

I closed my eyes, searching for corruption. "Yes. I can't feel any demons close by. But there will be more eventually, if I don't repair the Veil." I reached out my hand to Fergus. "Are you all right?"

He took it, rising back to his feet with a grunt. "I'll be fine. What did you mean by, 'not exactly', exactly?"

I sighed. "Avernus told you he was researching ways for our blood to be used against demons and darkspawn," I said carefully. "Well, he developed a way for the taint in my blood to harm them."

"What about humans?" Fergus challenged. "Does it harm us too?"

I pointed down at his hand. He glanced down, seeing my blood smeared on his palm. "You tell me."

"Oh," he said simply.

Aedan swallowed, unstringing his bow. "Enough, brother. Whatever argument you have with her, this is not the time. Kathryn, what do you need to do? To fix the Veil, I mean."

"The best thing is to destroy whatever is calling to the demons. Burning is best. But lyrium will help. Can you go and ask the Chantry for all they can spare? And then ask them for what they can't spare."

He nodded, flashing me a grin that washed away my fatigue. "I will be back as soon as I can. You can burn anything in my room there. There's nothing I want."

Fergus watched as his brother and Shadow disappeared. "What would have happened had that really been Oren?" he asked in a whisper. "With the blood, I mean."

I sighed, suppressing a wince. "Nothing. It would have run down his skin," I lied. "But that wasn't Oren, he'd have been at least a year older than you remember."

Fergus blinked. "Oh, right." He winced, clutching at his side. "I think I've bruised my rib."

I waved a hand, washing healing energy over the affected area. I wasn't a great healer, but I'd had more practise with field-healing over the past year than most life-long healers in the Circle. Besides, ribs were easy. "There you go. How do you feel?"

He tenderly touched at his side, no longer grunting with pain. "Adrift, Kathryn. Adrift," he whispered.

o_ooo000ooo_o

AN: Thank you to my reviewers - Isabeau of Greenlea and Girl-chama (x4) - I appreciate them very much.