Author's Note: And after a six month hiatus, Tricking the Past is back, and just in time for the one year anniversary of the story! Here's a super-sized chapter as my way of saying thanks to everyone who has continued to read and comment and support the story! You guys are wonderful.
Chapter 76- The Blind Templar
"The... feeling... is intense here. This is the right place. It comes from here."
Alistair often wondered how he ended up in these situations. Had Serena been leading them, it would have been obvious- she could never not help someone, especially if the someone in question had been a templar, and a blind one at that. But he couldn't have turned the man away when he'd asked to accompany them, and he was heading into the same building Serena had directed them to... If Alistair looked at it the right way, it was really killing two birds with one stone.
Looking over, Alistair spotted the man, Ser Otto, slowing making his way through the room, his sword drawn. He held it strangely, though, as if it could also be used as a divining rod, while his other hand grasped gently at the open air before him. His pale, glassy eyes scanned the room evenly, as if he could see. "I know not if it's the work of maleficarum, but there is definitely evil here."
"Oh, well, general evil we're well versed in," Alistair mumbled. "Darkspawn, dragons, abominations... the list goes on quite a bit, really."
Next to the templar, Leliana was shooting him worried glances every few seconds, her blue eyes flicking from the templar's sword tip to Alistair as if to ask 'Should I just leave him be?'
He nodded, adding a slight shrug, as he kept pace between Morrigan and Oghren. A bevy of apparitions passed through just then, children by the sound of their high pitched calls and small spectral forms. Oghren grunted, his face set in a firm line. "Don't see why we couldn't all go in the back way. This place gives me the creeps. And it smells funny."
"I'm sure it's not the puddles of blood on the floor that do it?" Alistair joked. "Besides, you're one to talk about smelling funny..."
"Be wary, idiots," Morrigan muttered testily, her eyes focused on the wall the ghosts had just run through. "'Tis more than mere spirits roaming these halls."
"Demons," called the clear voice of the templar from beside him. Alistair tried not to flinch. The man's unnerving appearance aside, he hadn't even heard him come up. "They are attracted to maleficarum, of course."
Alistair frowned. "I thought you said you'd found no evidence of maleficars in the Alienage, though?"
"They can also be attracted to places who have seen many sorrows," Leliana said quietly. "Places that have known great injustices... You said this was an orphanage once?"
"It looks like it hasn't been used as anything resembling a home for children in ages."
Morrigan rolled her eyes. "And what was your first clue to that, Alistair? The broken furniture, perhaps? Or maybe the acrid smell of decay?"
Alistair opened his mouth to retort but before he could Ser Otto stepped between the two of them, his eyes strangely focused. "Listen!"
It was a child's voice, singing softly. The sound appeared to come from the ceiling, the walls, everywhere.
"Do you hear me, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem? I'm a falling, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, today. I'm a maiden, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem. But I'm dying, Ser Wilhem, Ser Wilhem, in pain."
There was a long silence then and Alistair thought he could have put his sword right through, it was that thick.
Rubbing his temples, he sighed. "I hate ghosts."
Serena didn't know what she had been expecting inside the quarantined building. The sick, definitely. The dying, perhaps. She certainly hadn't been expecting to uncover an apparently thriving slave trade. And she definitely hadn't been expecting the Crown to back it.
How far gone was Loghain that he would sell his own countrymen to Tevinter slavers? And did Anora know of this? Is that how she had been able to tip them off to the 'unrest' in the Alienage? Was she secretly behind it? Or was she in league with her father? Serena's face pinched up in disgust as her mind churned with questions that had no immediate answers.
"Shianni was right! I can't believe they're selling us as slaves..." Kallian dropped to her knees beside one of the fallen Tevinter mages, this one an elf. She had her short-handled blade in one hand, the blade dangerously close. "And by our own people... I ought to cut her ears off!"
They had already been through three rooms filled with various soldiers and mages, each set with more information on the ongoing slave trade. Three rooms, and still no sign of Alistair and the others. Surely they would meet up with them before long? How winding could these corridors be, really? Serena sent up a silent prayer to the Maker to protect her friends, wherever they were right now. She certainly had learned her lesson about splitting up...
Nearby, Zevran raided the corpses of the other guards, most of them human. "The jingle of coin is a sound that many will dance to, my dear. It is a hard lesson to learn perhaps, but a necessary one."
"This Devera woman isn't the top of the food chain here, either, I'll bet," Alim said thoughtfully. He eyed the bodies carefully, his dark orbs lingering on the symbol that adorned the robes of the dead. "Tevinter is a magocracy. Ferelden has never allowed slavery under Therein rule... They wouldn't have left this up to just anyone." He locked eyes with Serena and she knew he was thinking the same thing. They hadn't met the leader of this little gang, not yet.
"Well, I'll cut his bloody ears off, too, then!" Kallian snapped. Serena grimaced as the blonde dropped the tops of the mages' ears casually onto the ground, kicking them away with her boot. She saw Wynne about to open her mouth, likely to protest the brutality, but Serena shot her a look that clearly read 'don't you dare lecture her'. Looking much like a fish out of water, Wynne gaped a few times before snapping her mouth closed.
"I agree with Alim," Zevran said, his looting finished. His gaze fell dispassionately upon the carved up dead, as if he'd seen much worse in his time before standing up. "We have yet to meet the mastermind behind this grand endeavor." Gliding gracefully over to the large wooden door beyond he gestured grandly. "Shall we see what's behind door number three?"
Falling into the familiar rountine, Serena pulled her bow in advance, ready to skewer the next foe who dared come at them. Zevran flung the door wide, opening it out onto a wide balcony. Below the overhang a small knot of mages, each wearing the medallion that noted them as enchanters of the Circle of Tevinter, stood speaking in vehement whispers. Behind them, a group of terrified elves stood huddled in a floor cage, the same one would use to shelter a mabari, each chained to the next by a large metal shackle.
"Father!" Kallian cried, her short sword already in hand. A solid stream of curses followed and Serena heard Zevran sigh wistfully.
"So goes our element of surprise..."
"We do so much better when we just brute force our way in anyway, Zev," Serena murmured, letting her arrow fly.
The assassin flashed a spectacular smile before pulling his own twin blades. "Truer words, my dear."
"You know, after some careful consideration, I'll take the ghosts after all."
Alistair rocked back on his heels as the demon pelted him with flaming debris, Duncan's shield barely protecting him from the searing heat of the onslaught. His templar senses were going wild as more demons slipped through the gaping hole in the Veil.
"Of course the one time we don't bring our mages..."
"And what am I?" Morrigan snapped. "A talking swine?" She raised her staff high as a magical blizzard started to engulf the room in cold white flurries.
"Too easy," Alistair muttered, forcing himself to instead focus on the freezing ghouls. Using her spell as a distraction, he charged the nearest group of demons and crushed them beneath his shield. There was the sound of maniacal laughter again as the demons collapsed and the ghost of a woman appeared shimmering before them.
"So red. So very, very red... But tasty, so good..."
Morrigan fired another spell that seemed to bounce off this new apparition as Alistair cleaved Maric's sword straight through its' middle.
"I can't die!" it cried. "I will never die!" Quick as it had appeared, the spirit evaporated into thin air, it's haunting cackle hanging in the air.
Ser Otto kneeled down at the dark scorch mark near Alistair, his head bowed as he quietly prayed. "Steady is my hand as I am guided by the Maker. Help us to solve this mystery and set this place to peace. Amen."
The eerie, almost sinister feeling had settled now in his gut, and Alistair found himself wishing more than anything that Serena were beside him. Surely this little quest was nearing an end? How many rooms could an orphanage have? Though the better question it seemed was how many demons could it hold?
The arrow flew true, landing in the chest of one of the mages, dropping him to the ground. Well, that made brought it down to four mages, Serena mused. Below, there was a loud crack as the remaining mages threw up spell shields to block any more stray arrows.
"Might I hazard a guess that the bald one is in charge?" Zevran murmured. "He looks to be the most grizzled of the lot."
"Ah, you must be the Grey Warden. I am... Caladrius." The tall bald man smiled from behind a shimmering blue shield, his dark goatee twisting. "I have heard a great deal about you and... your friends."
Serena raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You've heard of me? Us?" She glanced sidelong at Zevran. "You hear that? We're famous."
"One can hardly get a word out of Regent Loghain besides 'Warden' these days, you know. It surpassed even "gold" in popularity." There was an artful pause as the man, Caladrius, seemed to consider something. "I have heard that you are trying to erode Loghain's support. It must be a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain."
Serena shrugged, another arrow slowly making its way from her quiver to her bow. The mages arcane shield shimmered softly in the air, as if to remind Serena that her arrows wouldn't strike them so easily again. "Oh, it's not so difficult when he implicates himself so easy in the Tevinter slave trade."
"And wouldn't it be even easier with a bit of help?" Caladrius replied smoothly.
Kallian spat. "Help from a slaver? Could it get more insulting?"
"Your dead lackey said you had an agreement with Loghain?" Serena asked.
"Oh, I see Devera has been telling secrets." Caladrius sighed. "It was more like an arrangement, truth be told. One that disappears the moment angry, armed intruders storm my abode. There was always a limit to how long we were going to be able to operate here." Caladrius sighed, as if this was truly a hardship on him to leave. "We've paid for many of Loghain's troops, but once the Landsmeet is done we shall become decidedly... inconvenient, I would imagine."
"This isn't your abode!" Kallian stormed suddenly, stepping to the edge of the balcony. Her face was flushed with anger as her slight frame nearly trembled with compressed rage. She raised her short sword, practically shaking it at the mage in defiance. "You filthy-"
Exchanging a quick glance with Serena, Zevran slid forward easily, his hand slipping over Kallian's mouth, muffling her curses.
"You could use a few lessons in tact, my dear," the assassin muttered ruefully.
With a satisfied look at the two blonde elves, Caladrius continued. "So... here is my offer: one hundred sovereigns from you for a letter with the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren upon it, implicating him in all of... this. Then we leave a few days earlier than planned, with our profits and remaining slaves, unharmed." There was another pause and Serena had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "So do we have a deal? Even you must admit it's much better than resorting to barbarism, yes?"
Serena wanted to laugh. "Let me make sure I have this straight..." she said slowly. "I pay... pay you for a... a letter, while you... leave free and clear, with this woman's friends and family." She nocked the arrow and aimed. "I think... not. I'd rather just loot any evidence I'd need from your slowly decaying corpse."
The mage clucked his tongue, his eyes rolling to the ceiling for a brief moment. "A pity, that. You seemed like such a pragmatic girl." Caladrius pulled his staff, his eyes taking on a hard look. "It looks as if we shall have to settle this the hard way, then. My apologies."
Whipping the staff around quicker than the eye could follow, a spell erupted from the tip and Serena just got a shot off as the balcony began to quake below them. There was a loud groan of wood splitting, and Serena heard Kallian shriek in fury as the overhang collapsed beneath them.
"This. This is the center of it." The templar stood in the center of the room, one hand pressing the air. This room was covered in blood so thick it made Alistair's boots produce sticky slop-slop-slop noises as he walked. Another two ghost filled corridors had awaited them, and Alistair couldn't wait until they finally found their way out of this maze of horrors. Every door seemed to lead to another dead-end, though it didn't stop Ser Otto's endless positivity that the heart of the problem was always near. They had been in "the center of it, surely" 3 times now.
"Leave, mortal, you do not belong here!"
"Blessed be the Maker and His prophet Andraste-" Ser Otto began, his voice rising clearly. Alistair surmised this was not the first time the templar had tried to talk down a demon, though it did not appear to be working very well. At least we finally found one, Alistair thought miserably. It was something semi-solid, at least; something that he could put a sword through, instead of those infernal apparitions that did nothing but taunt.
"Your pathetic Maker is nothing compared to my glory!"
Alistair rolled his eyes. Demons. They really never did get the point, did they? He swiftly downed one of the potions Morrigan had handed him. He'd need to prepare a holy smite for this nuisance.
Nearby the blind templar held his weapon aloft, as one would a staff. Righteous fury seemed to radiate out from him in waves. "I command you: show yourself, demon! Hide in the shadows no more!"
Morrigan readied her staff, her eyebrows furrowed contentiously. "Oh yes, let us command the demon, shall we? Let us see where that gets us."
Chancing a glance in the witch's direction, Alistair smiled wryily. "For once, we agree."
As if on cue, the demonic voice swelled to a sharp, almost keening wail.
"You dare to command me? Let us see if your precious Maker can protect you now, worm!"
No longer content to stay invisible and taunt them with words, the fire demon rose up through the wooden floorboards, nearly as tall as the ceiling, and loomed over their group. Leliana pulled her bow, readying an icy arrow to send up as they heard Oghren call out.
"You blighting-!"
Alistair raised his shield as a bevy of demonic shades seeped in, filling the room with smoke, ash, and chaos. So much for an easy way out.
Her arm was broken. That was for sure. Despite the seriousness of the moment, Serena couldn't help the sigh that escaped her as she lamented another broken bone. Were there any left in her body that hadn't suffered some slight or crack over the last few months? And to think they still had an archdemon to kill...
Touching a hand to her face, she felt a thick layer of dusty ash from the ruined balcony coat her glove. Plaster and bits of wood were still settling down around her, the air thick from spell-light and rubble. Where were the others? She could hear them, just barely. Zevran was cursing in Antivan... and a barely audible whispering that had to be Alim was coming from behind her. But where was Wynne? And Kallian? And- oh. She winced as her arm protested the too-quick movement. Alright, so no sudden movements, then.
"Wynne?" she whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. Who knew what, or who, was nearby with all this dust and debris. It felt like half the building had collapsed upon them. "Wynne...?"
"Here, dear," the older woman muttered, equally quiet. "Don't move now, we need to set that arm to rights." She placed a surprisingly cool hand on Serena's forehead briefly. Her staff was out, aimed in the direction the group of mages had been standing.
Wynne's healing magic was ever present then, bathing her, and probably the others to some extent, in its soft, bluish light. There was a slight popping sound as Serena's elbow seemed to snap back into place while she desperately searched for her bow with her working arm. Some of the others must have gotten up from the fall already, she surmised. She could hear Alim murmuring spells nearby, one to disorient the mages, she hoped, as they were at a desperate disadvantage.
The touch was quick and then Wynne was moving away again, presumably to help Kallian, who Serena still hadn't heard yet.
Suddenly a woman's angry voice erupted from nearby. Grabbing a dagger, Serena held her breath as she ducked behind a broken bit of wood.
"Oh, what a wonderful spell, Aelinius! Next time why don't you have the whole building come down upon our heads?"
"I didn't think it would have that much power!" whined another mage. Squinting, Serena could just see a black mop of hair emerge from the top of a downed pillar. "Besides, it did the trick, didn't it? They're dead!"
"Fool!" barked Caladrius. "Until I see the body of the Grey Warden at my feet, I'll believe you did nothing but ruin our cover here." There was another shout and thump as Serena crouched low, hoping to disappear into the wreckage.
Dropping onto her knees, Serena crawled past them. She was determined to find Alim or Zevran. If she could get one of them onto the other side they could trap them, or if-
"Oh, well, if it isn't the big, bad Grey Warden. Where do you think you're going?" Serena felt the neck of her armor tighten uncomfortably as she was suddenly hauled to her feet, the dagger in her hand concealed up her sleeve. A swarthy looking man, as thick as a tree, held her just off the ground, his smile showing what seemed to be an endless parade of perfect white teeth. "Who knew such a tiny girl could cause such a ruckus?"
His fist moved up, surprisingly quick for such an enormous man, grabbing Serena by the throat. She kicked out desperately then, her boots trying to connect with any part of the large man she could manage to hit. She sputtered, he was choking her.
Why did they always try to choke her? she thought desperately. Was it because she was a girl? Alistair never got choked-
"You don't seem to be making much of a problem for me, though, sweetness," the man cooed. Serena's eyes swam as his dark eyes filled her field of vision, the edges already turning to black. "The last of the Grey Wardens. What a pity."
"She is not the last," a cold, penetrating voice said. It was a moment that seemed to stretch much longer as Alim's dark head appeared behind the dusky man. The hand at her throat released, dropping Serena to the ground where she spluttered and clutched at her neck, rubbing the sensitive skin there.
A moment later, the large man swooned, his huge body thumping to the ground. Beside him, Alim flexed his fingers, the pinkish-orange light Serena had come to associate with his life draining spell seemed to hover about him.
"Thank you. That was... a bit too close for comfort." Quickly, Serena slid her dagger across the fallen mage's neck, his blood spurting forth across the blade. "And for good measure."
"It is always good to be sure," Alim replied, his hand reaching out to pull Serena to her feet. "I think Zevran has made rather short work of the others, if the cessation of screams are any indication."
Alistair was immediately engaged with two of the fiends, flames licking across his armor as nearby Oghren battled two more demons, spewing an seemingly endless stream of curses and slights. Moving to better block Ser Otto's open side, he felt a rush of air as the templar released a holy smite himself, knocking everyone but himself within a 10 foot radius on their backs.
"Superb," Alistair muttered grimly, shaking the effects of the magic off. "Next time we do that, Ser Otto, how about we let our spell-caster know, eh? Maybe a little heads-up is in order so we don't-" He ducked suddenly as Oghren heaved his giant great sword just past his head.
"Less talkin', more killin', junior!" the dwarf called as he slammed his squat body into another demon.
"I- Well... shut up!" Grimacing, he swung his shield to block the oncoming claws from a risen corpse.
"Your comebacks, Alistair," Morrigan retorted. "They burn." He could practically hear her sneer from here. Her face lit up suddenly, a spell orbing in her hand. Well, at least she had been out of the range of the smite, he thought. "Surely that tiny brain of yours could come up with something better than that?"
Alistair could feel his cheeks redden as he sliced his father's sword through a shade, this one composed of ash. "I am engaged, currently, if you hadn't noticed, Morrigan! I don't have time to banter uselessly with you."
"It hasn't stopped you before from opening that fat mouth," Morrigan replied. "I'm sure Serena wouldn't be so delighted to hear that you've chosen another, Alistair." Beside her, Leliana took down two more shades with a well placed arrow, her red hair bobbing about the darkened room.
"But I... we- what? I mean..." Alistair spluttered uselessly. He gulped, his eyes slipping to his boots as Leliana laughed. There was a long pause as the noise died down once again, the fiends finally defeated.
"What?" The witch paused, her golden eyes going wide as recognition filled their depths. "You- oh, blast. She didn't agree to marry you, did she?" Morrigan sighed, slamming her staff through the frozen head of one of the undead. "And I thought she could stoop no lower..."
Oghren laughed. "This bastard-" he turned to Alistair, clapping him on the back, "No offense boy, but a rock is a rock, isn't it? Anyway, this bastard is going to be king! Legs can't really do much better, can she?"
"Your point, as always, is most offensive, dwarf." Morrigan grimaced, lip curling. "Much like your smell."
"Enough!" roared Caladrius. Zevran's short sword was at his throat as the mage leaned heavily on one knee, his head bowed. Beside the bald mage, the bodies of his companions were strewn about, a pool of blood seeping out from beneath.
Alim had been right. The elf had been very busy in the chaos following the balcony collapse. It would seem the magic users were no match for one of the deadly Antivan Crows. Serena once again thanked the Maker Zevran was on their side.
"Enough," the mage repeated, his voice sounding more defeated this time. "It... it seems your reputation is an accurate one. I surrender."
"As if you had much choice," Kallian spat, coming up on Serena's right. She had a dark bruise already forming on her cheek. A souvenir from the fall or the battle, Serena couldn't tell. "We ought to let my kin out, have them deal some old fashioned justice on his filthy bald head."
"Wait! Wait. Please, here me out, dear lady." Caladrius's dark eyes swiveled from Serena to Kallian and back again. "Ladies. Please. Were I to... use the life force of the remaining slaves. I could augment your physical power a great deal! Imagine it! Never having to be weaker than a man... Allow me to leave this place alive, and I would be more than happy to do this little service for you. For both of you."
"'Little service?'" Wynne squawked. Her normally pale skin was botched with red. "He is talking of blood magic! Surely you would not consider such a thing?"
Serena rolled her eyes. Did the woman really think so little of her? She was about to say so when Alim spoke up.
"Serena would never do such a thing. The Grey Wardens would never fall into blood magic in order to gain an upper hand."
"And here I'd hoped she wouldn't do it because it would involve murdering the rest of my family," Kallian muttered sardonically.
The mage coughed, bringing their divided attention back to him. "I don't suppose you would consider just letting me go, then? A show of good will from the Wardens, perhaps?"
"After this wonderful show of good will from the Tevinter Imperium?" Serena raised an eyebrow, her dagger swiftly finding its home in his gut. "I wouldn't bet on it."
"We... we won, didn't we?" Otto looked about, his strange, almost blank eyes wandered around the room before finally settling on Alistair's clear honey-colored ones. "At one time, I considered myself quite the warrior, but you accomplished here what I never could... But something still isn't right. I feel there is more to this. Nearby. The building next to us."
"The quarantine?"
"I can feel it," Otto repeated. "Just on the other side of this wall."
Behind the back of the templar, Alistair rolled his eyes. He wouldn't call himself a patient man by any means, but he was becoming quite tired of Ser Otto's 'feelings' about demons and things. Demons weren't really a sneaky lot, he thought. Maybe it was the pungent smell in this place that was getting to him. It reminded him so much of the mage's tower, where of course there had been plenty of demons to go around…
As they moved closer to the door, however, he suddenly heard voices. "Are you sure that's demons? It sounds like people-" Namely, people he recognized.
"Alistair? Oh, Alistair! Leliana! Zevran, Alim, they're over here!" There was a squeal of delight as Serena barreled into him from the side, her armor pushing up against his. "We've been looking all over for you lot. I thought you would have met up with us inside by now!"
"We got a little side tracked," Alistair said evenly. "What with all the ghosts and abominations running around this place. We, er, had a few run-ins, I'm afraid." He tilted his head slightly, indicating they ought to look at his shield. The Grey Warden emblem on it was almost completely obscured by scorch marks.
Eyeing the shield with interest, Zevran raised one delicate blonde eyebrow. "You all do seem a bit toasty, if you don't mind me saying so, my friend."
"You all seem a bit dusty, if you don't mind me saying so," Alistair replied. "What is that? You look like a whole building came down on you."
"Funny you should mention that. It just about did." Serena rubbed her temples, mentally willing off the slow rumblings of a headache. "We had a run in with some Tevinter slavers."
"Slavers?" Leliana exclaimed. "Here? In Denerim?" The redhead's large blue eyes went wide as Alistair let out low whistle of astonishment. "In the capital… who would have thought?"
Serena shrugged. "Regent Loghain has been very busy, it would seem."
"Busy selling off our brothers and sisters to the highest paying magister," Alim added hotly, moving away from his whispered conversation with Morrigan to join the others. His normally pale cheeks were swiftly turning red with barely concealed rage, making his already odd appearance look rather menacing.
"Kallian and Wynne are seeing to those we rescued back at Kallian's house, but Alim thought we ought to look for you all." Serena brushed off her black armor , frowning at the mess. "And I just took a bath," she lamented sadly.
"I don't suppose you and your two companions would care to join us, m'lady?" Ser Otto asked, bending gracefully into a formal bow. His strange blank eyes stared past them, appearing to focus on whatever he had 'felt' in the building beyond. "I am Ser Otto, and your friends here have vowed to help me cleanse this place. We seek to end this terrible entity that has escaped the Fade, once and for all."
"Ah... yes, of course." She glanced at the others in confusion, taking in their exhausted faces. "I... I suppose we should finish what you all started."
"The Maker truly blessed me the day he brought you all to me, dear lady." The blind templar put his hand to the door, his eyes closed in thought. "Just in here now. Beyond this... beyond this-"
"That's called a door," Oghren grumbled. Pulling bits of ash out of his beard, the dwarf looked more than a little annoyed at this now continuing side adventure. "I've had my share of ghosts and ghoulies today, I think."
"You're not scared, Oghren, are you?" Alistair teased. "Had a few demons too many today?"
The dwarf frowned, his thick beard wrinkling. "I've had a bit too much of your mouth, pup, I'll tell you that. Your non-stop jabbering-"
"Are we going to open the door or not?" Morrigan said, her boot tapping impatiently. "'T'would I have known I'd have to listen to this childish back-and-forth all day I'd have stayed back with the flea-bitten hound."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Remind me next time to tell you in advance that I'll be prattling about. I'm sure Sten would love to have you, too." He shot a significant look to Alim, as if to hammer the point home.
"If perhaps we could continue," Serena prompted, pulling her daggers. This was not the time for an argument to break out Alistair and Morrigan. "Guys, look. We're all tired and a bit on edge. Let's just finish this." She turned to Ser Otto, gesturing to him to go first before she seemed to remember the man could not see her. "I… Ser Otto? Yes, let's go." With a heavy sigh, she pulled the door open.
And felt heat blast her face.