Chapter 3 – Demon Talk
Quickly washing up, Serena wrung out her long hair between both hands, water droplets forming a tiny puddle on the stones at her bare feet. It certainly wasn't a proper bath with smelling soaps and all manner of scrubbing cloths, but really more of a long dunk in cold water with a bit of soap here and there.
Serena rubbed some of a elfroot lotion her mother had made into her cheeks and the skin on her chest and neck. "Good for wrinkles, dear, not that you'll have any soon," she'd said. Serena liked the cool tingling feeling it gave her skin, and the slight fragrance of the forest it carried. It made her feel wild, like she belonged outside, which she often felt, despite her noble baring.
Tugging on some thin leggings and a pair of soft wool-padded boots that tied to her knees, she made over to her wardrobe to pull on a suitable dress. Flipping through the clothes, she landed on a light blue dress, patterned with tiny flowers in an even deeper blue. Her mother had bought it in the Market District of Denerim last summer when they had visited for the yearly Landsmeet.
It was Serena's first time in the Market, since she had been to Denerim only twice before, when she was 13, for King Maric's funeral procession and then King Cailan's coronation 3 months after that. That had certainly not been a time to buy new clothes, but this time was simply perfect as her father spent the afternoon in the Palace chambers with the other nobles of Ferelden.
The woman running the stall had had many beautiful dresses, but she'd suggested this one in particular to her mother because it matched Serena's eyes exactly. "Absolutely beautiful, isn't it?" the woman had said, smiling fondly at Serena. "See the pattern here too, little cornflowers, just the same as your eyes, my dear."
Serena pulled the dress on over her leggings, letting the ruffled hem fall just above her knee. The sleeves were light and could roll up, easy to move in or adjust for fouler weather. Serena would never admit it to anyone, but she loved the ruffles at the hem, too. They were perfect for twirling.
Next, Serena picked up her belt, adjusting it around her waist so it didn't drag on the dress at all. Adding her small purse that clipped on, and her two daggers, all that was left was to do her hair. Crossing to her vanity, she picked up a shell comb and began tugging the knots out of her long curls. It was already starting to dry, which made the task more difficult. Confidant she had gotten all the knots out, she twisted the block of hair this way and that, undecided on what to do with it.
"Braids, maybe," she said to herself. "Or perhaps just one..." She picked up a pale ribbon from her jewelry box and tied it into her hair, twisting it in and out with her own hair into one big loose braid. That would keep it out of her face, but her mother wouldn't complain about her always making her hair look 'battle-ready', as she put it.
"Couldn't you wear it loose, just this once?" her mother would ask. "It looks so beautiful when you brush it all out."
"And always ends up in my mouth. Or even worse, in my food," Serena would retort. "Besides, you always wear your hair up in braids, Mother. Aren't you being a hypocrite?"
"Well, I'm old, dear," Eleanor had sighed. "That's what we mothers do. My hair is very nearly all gray, anyhow. If I still had some color up there, you better believe I would show it off."
Serena smiled at the thought of her mother, and picked up the silver locket on her vanity, clasping it around her neck. It was small, with the Cousland Family crest of two crossed laurels stamped into the metal on the front. Inside it held a small pinch of dried flowers that her father had picked and given to her mother on the day she was born. If she held it close, she could just barely smell the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle coming from inside.
The locket was rather plain compared to her other jewels, but it was one of her most treasured heirlooms, and she knew the sight of it would make Fergus smile, as he had a matching design on a ring he always wore.
"I still can't believe he's leaving for the south," Serena said to her reflection. "While I'm stuck here watching the chickens and making sure the castle doesn't burn down." She frowned at her reflection, sticking out her tongue. "Oh well, it won't do me any good to mope about it." She turned, gathering up her overcoat and left the room.
She turned to Peanut, who was still sitting beside her vanity. "Well? You coming with me on my grand chore or staying here?"
Her hound quirked his head to the side, a big dopey grin on his face. With a small shake, he turned around in a circle and lay down to nap.
"I guess that answers that," Serena said with a smirk. "You are the laziest dog, you know that?" Gathering up her overcoat, she quickly left the room.
Entering the large hallway that separated her rooms from Fergus', Serena paused for a moment, taking in the enormous stones that built her family's home. Tapestries hung along the hall, depicting scenes from the often-bloody history of the Couslands. For centuries, even before Calenhad the Great had united Ferelden itself, they had called Highever their home.
In one tapestry, Serena traced the delicate silver embroidery of a giant white wolf standing on its hind legs with one finger. A small group of shapes that represented an army stood facing the werewolf, their spears outstretched.
If she remembered the story correctly, it portrayed a scene from the Black Age during the lycanthrope plague, when her family had held only the title of "bann". It was then that her ancestor, Haelia Cousland, had gathered the other lords of the area together to drive the werewolves from their lands. It was that feat which had earned them the title of teyrn, and they had held it every since, one of the last two teynirs in Ferelden, in fact.
The next tapestry was a bright red, with a large gray castle struck by lightning. A lone figure with a crown stood at the foot of the tapestry, his sword held high over his head in victory. This one represented the battle between her family and Calenhad, as they had fought to maintain their independence from what would soon become a unified Ferelden. Their army had been defeated however, and her ancestor had sworn fealty to King Calenhad rather than lose the title to the Highever lands.
The third tapestry depicted many figures on their knees, and another figure with a black crown standing over them, sword drawn. A gray griffon weeping a single tear of blood stood silently in the background. Serena had never really paid attention to this one, but now that she looked at it closely, she realized it told the story Ser Gilmore had related to her earlier, about the Grey Warden rebellion at Soldier's Peak.
"Those must be my ancestors that King Arland had executed," Serena muttered, touching one of the piteously kneeling figures. She wondered who had survived the encounter, considering her family still held the teyrnir today, despite their rebellious ways.
The last two tapestries depicted the occupation of Orlais, and how the Couslands had sided with King Maric Theirin. He had been the son of the Rebel Queen Moira, directly descended from Calenhad himself, to fight the Orlaisian Emperor's puppet King Meghren. The tapestry was blue, with figures baring the Cousland family heraldy on their shields, storming the gates of Amaranthine, which had been under the control of Orlais at the time.
The other tapestry was of the battle of White River, which her father, Bryce Cousland, had fought alongside Rendon Howe, but to utter defeat. Indeed, they had been only 2 of fifty rebels who had survived the battle. A red river of blood ran along the side of two figures, one carrying a shield from House Cousland, the other of House Howe. Whatever Serena thought of Rendon Howe, it stood to note that he had been a good friend of her family for many years.
Shaking herself from her silent reverie, Serena continued across the hall, peeking into the front room of Fergus' chambers. "Fergus? Oh, dearest brother..." she called. "Are you in? I have a message from Father."
Serena noticed a candle burning at the writing desk, but otherwise the room appeared to be empty. About to turn around, a dark mop of hair popped up from behind the writing desk, startling Serena. "Aunt Sena?"
"Oren! Maker's breath, you scared me!" Serena grasped the doorframe and let out a huge breath of air. "How long have you been down there?"
"Not long. I'm sorry I scared you, Sena," Oren replied, his eyes downcast. Serena stepped forward and gave her nine-year-old nephew a hug. "Don't worry about it, I'm just, well, nevermind." She could never stay anything but affable around her young nephew, he just had a way of making her smile. He was also the only person in the world who called her 'Sena'. His nickname for her had stuck, ever since he was a baby and couldn't properly pronounce "Serena".
"What were you doing on the floor?" Serena eyed the ground around his feet. "You weren't collecting spiders again, were you? If I find one of those hairy things in my room, I swear I'll-"
"Oh, no, Sena! I was doing lines, see?" Oren pointed at the messy pile of papers on the desk. "Brother Aldous told me to do the... the Canticle of.." The boy struggled for the word, finally shrugging helplessly in defeat. "Of something. But then I saw this!" He pointed to the wall beside him, and Serena saw a large crack coming up from the floor.
"What's so interesting about that?" she asked. Although she could easily understand the appeal of even the most mundane things over copying lines of the Chant of Light, she hoped Oren wasn't doing anything that would end up getting her a lecture from his mother, Oriana.
It wasn't so long ago she had been doing the same herself. The castle's historian, and her and Oren's tutor, Aldous, was particularly fond of the longer passages in the Canticle of Threnodies. She wondered absently if that wasn't what Oren was supposed to be copying now.
"It's not the crack, it's the whispers," Oren replied, a secret sort of smile on his face. "Listen here, near the middle." He pointed to an area on the wall and scooted over so Serena could get down on her knees beside him. "Do you hear it?"
Serena closed her eyes and pressed her ear to the crack, hoping there weren't any spiders about to crawl out. Concentrating, she could hear... something. Were those voices? Echoes of something?
"You hear it, right?" Oren whispered, his ear to the wall as well. "I think its ghosts!"
"Ghosts? Oh Oren, I think it's probably just..." She leaned forward to listen again. The voices were indistinct, but surely it wasn't ghosts, Serena thought.
"Aldous told me there's ghosts loads of places, Sena. Any place people have died real horrible." Oren looked at the crack again, nervous.
"Oh, well that settles it then," Serena replied, placing a hand on Oren's shoulder. "Nobody has died here violently. Not in ages, anyway."
The boy still looked skeptical. "What about great grammy Amelia?" he whispered.
Serena narrowed her eyes. Her grandmother had died three years ago; Oren had been only six at the time, so he probably didn't remember any of the details. But grandmother Amelia had been in failing health for months until one day she simply fell asleep and didn't wake up again.
"Oren, grandmother didn't die violently, she just went to sleep. It was very... peaceful." Serena put her ear to the crack again, listening hard. The whispering was a bit louder now. It sounded like men's voices chattering to one another. "It's... I think it's the guards, Oren. Can you hear them now?"
Oren pressed his ear to the wall and Serena watched the excitement quickly fade.
Oh, Maker have mercy, Serena sighed inwardly. How did I get sucked into thinking there might actually be ghosts roaming the castle speaking to us through the walls? If anything, they'd probably have some fun and toss things about in our rooms. She put a gentle arm around her nephew. "We just... we let our imaginations get the best of us. It's probably Ser Gilmore and the other men staying behind at the castle."
Serena stood, pulling Oren to his feet as well. She glanced at the papers he had scattered across the desk. "What were you copying for Aldous?"
"It's the Canticle of..." Oren frowned, picking up the topmost sheet. "Eerie-diction," he finished.
" Erudition. Oh, I remember copying that many times," Serena said with a chuckle. She recited the lines from memory.
"The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil
And grew jealous of the life
They could not feel, could not touch
In blackest envy were the demons born."
She looked at Oren suspiciously, her hands on her hips. "So that's where all this ghost talk came from!"
Oren smiled sheepishly, shrugging his small shoulders. "Well, maybe," he admitted. "How did you remember all that, Sena?"
"Aldous must have had me copy those passages a hundred times a piece." She smiled, remembering the long hours she had spent at her own writing desk. "I think the Fade is very interesting. And bizarre."
"That's where we dream, right?" Oren asked.
Serena nodded. "Yes, while we sleep, our souls reside in the Fade, and we experience it as dreams." She paused, trying to think of a way to explain it better. "The Fade is always there, we just only seem to be able to sense it while we're not conscious, while we're dreaming. Mages can actually enter the Fade while awake, though, and they can talk to the spirits there."
"What... what about the demons?"
Serena considered this for a moment. "Yes, I suppose in the darker sections of the Fade, there are lots of demons. Brother Aldous says they are attracted to mages. They cannot escape the Fade on their own, so they try to make deals with them."
"What kind of deals? What do the demons want?" Oren was frowning, his green eyes narrowed. He had Fergus' eyes, like big shiny emeralds.
"Do you remember the passage? The spirits were the Maker's first children, before He created people. When the spirits saw that the Maker had moved on from the Fade to create new things, they became jealous of us, of people, and some of them were corrupted by that envy, and thus became demons. But the demons cannot leave the Fade without help, so they try to bargain with any mage they can find, to try to trade wealth or power in exchange for being released from the Fade."
"Is the Fade a bad place? Why do the demons want to escape it?" Oren ran his fingers through his hair; it was the same motion Fergus made when he was thinking hard about something. Serena silently marveled at how alike her nephew and her older brother were; it was a little like seeing Fergus as a nine-year-old sometimes. He is his father's son, she thought. "Sometimes when I dream, I see a tower in the distance. It's big and black."
"I have seen it, too, sometimes. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe everyone sees it. But no, the Fade isn't a bad place. It's just... different. The demons want to escape so they can harm us, they like to play tricks and take things that don't belong to them, and it's just their nature. They will offer many things in exchange for freedom." She thought for a moment. "I doubt the demons ever keep their word, though," she finished.
"I would never talk to a demon!" Oren said, his eyes flashing. "They sound evil!"
"I supposed it's harder than we think it is to resist them," Serena replied. "I don't know a lot about demons, but they can change form, appear as other things."
"Like people?" Oren asked. Serena nodded.
"They can make you think they're someone else. If one looked like... your mother, for example, wouldn't it be hard to say no to her?" Serena saw the worry cross Oren's small face and she put her hands on either side of his face, hoping her smile was encouraging. "Don't worry about that, though, Oren. You're so strong, you'd be able to see right through their tricks." She ruffled his hair, making him smile. "That's enough talk about demons for today, I think."
"Do you know when Father is leaving, Sena?" Oren asked.
"He's supposed to ride out tonight, with my father's soldiers," Serena replied. "Ser Gilmore and some of the other men are staying here with us, though."
"Do you think Ser Samuell will stay with them?"
"No, he told me he is to ride south in the morning with the Arl's men."
Oren gave Serena a searching look, as if he was trying to read something in her expression. "Are you going to miss him, Sena?"
"Well, if you aren't the nosiest nephew I've ever known…" Serena exclaimed.
"I'm your only nephew, Sena!"
"Still. I ought to trade you at the Master Hindan's armory. I'll get myself a newer nephew, one without so many cheeky remarks!" She pinched one of Oren's cheeks playfully. "Oh, I suppose I'll miss... some of the knights, yes, including Ser Samuell." She stuck her tongue out at her nephew. "But not as much as I'd miss you if I went with them."
"I'm glad you're staying with me, Sena. Maybe... if Mother allows it... you could teach me how to shoot a bow? Maybe? Please?" His face was eager as he continued in a rush. "Father said I should ask because you'll be in charge with him and grandfather gone." He paused, his excitement bubbling over. "So, will you? Please, Sena?"
"Oh, I suppose I could find some time to show you a thing or two," she said. "If you'll help me keep all these rowdy soldiers in line while our fathers are away, I'll teach you how to shoot." She held out a hand to Oren. "Deal?"
Oren threw his arms around Serena's neck and she picked him up with a groan. "I'll take that as a 'yes' then, shall I?" She laughed and spun him around. "Ohhh, you are getting too big for me." She deposited him in a heap on a nearby chair, laughing.
"Father says I'm growing so fast, soon I'll be able to pick you up, Sena!"
"I sure hope so, I'm tired of walking everywhere!" Serena said with a laugh. "You get bigger every day, it seems. Do you know where Fergus is anyway? My father said he would be in here, but..."
"Father went to the stables, to check on the horses. One of them ate some bad oats, I think. Well, that's what he said anyway," Oren replied with a shrug. "He said he would be back here after dinner to say goodbye to me and Mother."
Serena nodded, wondering if she should head down to the stables or just wait until after dinner. "I'll just see him later, then." No use in hunting all over the grounds looking for him, she decided. If he's just going to end up back here anyway, I'll catch up with him.
"If I see him sooner, I'll tell Father you're looking for him," Oren added helpfully.
"Thank you, Oren," Serena said. She patted the writing desk encouragingly. "You should finish up your lines before Aldous has us both stuck in the study copying the Chant of Light until winter."
"It would be a lot more interesting if there were more ghosts in it," he said, making a face.
"Or giant spiders," Serena replied with a laugh. "Big hairy ones with gaping jaws, coming to snap you up!" She reached around Oren, playfully clawing at his hair as he giggled and shivered away. "Now, back to work, nephew." The boy sighed heavily, looking towards the window wistfully but sat back down and reopened the book he'd been copying. Serena left the room to the sound of a quill scratching away on paper.