Merry Christmas one and all. I hope you all had a good one and have an equally good new year
Group Study Session
You follow Merrill away from breakfast. Amusingly, the elf is so engaged in whatever thoughts have occupied her all morning that she does not notice until your hand stops her from closing the door in your face.
"Nelyafinwë!" She yelps. "What are you doing here?"
You smile in amusement as she blushes. "I thought I would see if I could prevail upon you to share Avernus' notes."
"Oh!" She says. "Yeah, sure."
Merrill turns to walk into her room only to pause, blush intensifying. "Perhaps I'll bring them out to the study."
"Whatever makes you comfortable." You reply.
You wait for Merrill to fetch her notes and Avernus', you end up carrying several thick tomes and strange concoctions of unknown purpose for your student. The path to the library involves idle chatter about meaningless things, family matters mostly.
"Your father was literally the greatest member of your species of all time?" Merrill exclaims.
"Race actually." You correct. "Whether he's the greatest of the Quendi is an open discussion, but he was certainly the most gifted of the Noldor."
"Still, it must have been hard growing up in his shadow." She says empathetically.
You shrug. "I have long since made peace with it. I am older than the human species after all."
"Only on a technicality." Merrill grumbles. "Put my stuff on that table there."
You place Merrill's items at the desired location. Once that is done, you flip open Avernus' notes, and begin to read them in more detail than you had time to when you were within Soldier's Peak. For a time it works, but then Merrill needs to check something within the text.
"Can I borrow that?" She asks.
You hand it over without too much trouble, and Merrill returns it promptly. Then it happens again, and again. In fact, Merrill's requests become more frequent as time passes, her desire to return the book to you impeding her ability to find and memorise what she needs to from the book.
"I do not believe this is working." You state after Merrill asks for the book back almost immediately after she hands it back.
Merrill grimaces but agrees. "There's got to be a better way."
"Perhaps it would be wise for you to recount all you have learned in my absence." You propose. "To give us a place to begin from."
"That's not a bad idea." Merrill says. "Well, you've probably read the notes, so you know all about the Taint. Actually, can't you sense darkspawn?"
"It would be more correct to say that I am aware of the ways dark magic twists the world out of shape. It is hardly so precise as the sense of the Grey Wardens, rather it identifies that which does not belong in the world." You explain.
"Ok, well there's some interesting implications of the way they can sense the darkspawn then. I didn't really understand it enough to figure it out, but perhaps it will make more sense to you." She replies.
Merrill summarises what little she understands of Avernus' work. You grimace at the task ahead. If Merrill, so much more familiar with the magic at work, struggles you do not like your own chances of succeeding.
"What are you working on, if you struggle with the notes so?" You ask.
"Well, I've actually been looking into the way he slowed the Taint with magic and comparing it to the way are just, immune to things." She explains. "I'm kind of struggling because I don't really have samples to compare it with, but I'm making progress. Did you know your blood obliterates trace amount of foreign matter when exposed to magic?"
"I did not." You reply thoughtfully. "Though I haven't noticed any deleterious effects of magic upon my person. Are you certain it is magic in particular that causes the disintegration?"
"Well, it seems to work with pretty much all magic, but it is more potent with creation magic. Perhaps a live subject might be able to give me more information?" Merrill asks leadingly.
You sigh.
Honestly, the idea of being experimented on makes you uncomfortable. It calls to mind thoughts of orcs and Morgoth, not to mention the fact that you will have to allow yourself to be injured in order to test things on your blood.
There are a wide variety of reasons you could provide to avoid having to experience whatever Merrill is planning, but you use none of them. In the end, you trust her and you do not wish to bar her investigations simply due to your discomfort.
"I suppose I can permit you to conduct your experiments." You say.
Merrill's eyes light up. "Really? Great! Oh, wait, some of them are going to require you to answer questions is that going to get in the way of what you're doing?"
That, is a good point. Now that you think about it, what are you going to do? You are curious about the nature of the Taint and the darkspawn. That said, Merrill's research sounds promising…
"I think it will be for the best if I assist your research." You concede after a time. "I know more of the nature of my own people than you do, and likely have explanations where you would have only theories."
"Alright then. Let's get started!" Merrill cheered.
"So I guess the question is, whether or not the reaction comes from your blood or if it's an interaction with magic." Merrill continues. "Let me just make a quick cut…"
"Use the one you made last week." You say, holding out your hand.
"Right. Sorry, wasn't thinking." She replies sheepishly, reopening the half healed wound. "Now, I'm going to start by putting a drop of this vegetable ink and we should see the vapour rising from the wound."
You reflexively flinch when the ink hits your cut. It is an effort of will to keep yourself still as Merrill waits for results.
"That's strange." Merrill muses. "The inks disappeared, but there's no vapour, not even a shimmer."
"Why would there be vapour?" You ask.
"I noticed last week that your blood has a strong reaction to foreign materials and dissolves them like acid, there should be vapour." She explains.
You shrug. "I have gotten a great deal of 'foreign material' in my body over the years, and I have never seen any vapour."
"Dammit!" Merrill curses. "I thought I knew what was happening."
"Oh that is simple to explain." You reply. "It is not me, and thus has no place in my body."
"That explains nothing!" Merrill exclaims. "It's like saying that you don't get sick because you just don't let yourself!"
"That is because you are looking at this as primarily a physical matter." You reply. "It is important to remember that I man not merely a physical being."
"I still don't understand." Merrill says, frowning.
"Let me ask you Merrill. Where is your soul?" You ask.
"In my body." She replies immediately.
"Exactly, where was it when you were mortal?" You ask again.
Merrill pauses in thought, you see the light of understanding bloom in her eyes.
"In the Beyond." She whispers.
"Exactly. The cycle of destruction and renewal is the province of physical beings, but you and I are not merely physical. Our bodies take on the properties of our souls, such as being impervious to external influence."
"But wouldn't that mean you can't get sick?" Merrill says.
"It does." You reply.
"But you did get sick." Merrill objects. "Back at the camp, remember?"
"No, I did not." You say. "I was exhausted, I had not slept in days. As a result, I had symptoms akin to illness. You simply assumed I was sick because everyone else was."
"Wait. Wait." Merrill says, eyes widening as understanding rushes into her mind. "If the Beyond is the place where souls are kept, then the reason I observed the effect isn't because it was 'alive' but because it was affected by an energy similar to a 'soul'."
You can say nothing as Merrill begins muttering furiously to herself and consulting several tomes.
After a time, she looks back at you and asks, "Can you activate that 'shield of soul' or whatever it was called?"
With a shrug you do so. Merrill walks around you casting spells and muttering to herself. Sadly, the vast majority of what she says is simply nothing you understand. Eventually you have to drop the shield simply to prevent exhaustion. Fortunately, by that time Merrill has gotten started on the outcome that is now known as a 'Cure Taint' spell.
At least that is what Merrill says it is. For your part you are rather lost as she waves her hands around and moves mana around in patterns that are completely unintelligible to you.
Merrill clearly notices your confusion and explains. "So, in theory, I should be able to replicate the 'identifying' elements of your soul. From there we can apply highly targeted magic in a variety of strains to essentially kill anything that isn't 'identified' by the first step."
"I see." You reply thoughtfully. "That sounds dangerous, is it not likely that a simple replication will result in death as the spell correctly identifies the lack of Eldar in the target?"
"An excellent point, but one I'd already considered." Merrill replies. "I'll experiment with myself, using a safer spell I made, then once I've established how to identify different species, I can use the same spell to calibrate for both humans and unawakened elves. I'll get dwarves next time Ursular swings through."
"What is the spell you will use?" You ask. "Will it not affect the identification?"
"I've got one that turns the tongue blue." Merrill replies absently. "Though you make a good point about the spell interfacing with the identifying elements. We'll have to run several different checks, healing spells, buff spells, maybe try adding a 'friendly' tag to damage spells?"
"Let us avoid anything that might potentially cause lasting harm." You head off that last thought before it can get into dangerous waters. "Perhaps we could focus on the reasons you have a spell that turns tongues blue?"
Merrill's face flickers between embarrassment and nostalgia. "Lanaya and I used to prank each other, back when we were learning. It was sort of a contest to see who could make the most imaginative spell."
Your lip quirks up. "An excellent pastime for the young."
Merrill ducks her head. "Let's just get back to the spell."
Merrill's first experiment goes poorly, her tongue immediately turns blue.
"Dammit. Now I need to wait for this to wear off." She mutters.
A flick of your will and the mana in the room stills momentarily. Her tongue immediately reverts to its natural colour. Merrill's eyes widen momentarily, then she rapidly calms down.
"I forgot you could do that." She admits sheepishly.
From there it is a simple matter of trial and error. It takes a significant amount of time, even shortened by your ability to simply 'undo' any mistakes. In the end, Merrill ends up having to experiment on you just to get the mimicry right first, and only after that is she able to start adjusting it to make it work on herself.
"Weirdly, this is actually easier." She says as she looks at her perfectly normal tongue. "It might be because I already did the tricky part, but it almost felt like my magic was fighting me when I was trying to use it on you."
"It is potentially born of the intersecting 'identifiers' colliding." You speculate. "Yours bases itself on species, while mine identify me as not merely an Elda but as myself."
"Really?" Merrill asks curiously.
"How do you think we found out about the effects?" You ask. "I was born in a time when there was only other Eldar to compare ourselves to. As a result, I know for a fact that even other Eldarin substances will be destroyed by our bodies."
"Huh." Merrill replies. "I guess that makes sense, it's a reaction born of the interface between your body and soul. Amazing."
You cannot test the spell, as you lack a tainted sample, and you would not allow Merrill to infect herself even if you had one. However, the Dalish First is incredibly proud of her progress, as are you.
The Sister's Letter
When you received word that a messenger had come from the Chantry, you were surprised. When the letter was delivered to Nova, you relaxed. Whether it was some kind of request for a report or perhaps a friend writing to her. Thus, you thought nothing of the letter.
That changes several hours later when you notice that Nova has not come to lunch. Manners sees you investigate, to ensure that she is well. You find her sitting in her room staring at the letter with a conflicted expression.
"Nova. Are you well?" You ask. "I can have your lunch brought to you if you so desire."
The Chantry Sister starts, looking at you. "What? Oh, yes. That would be good."
You wait for a few moments, then ask again. "Are you well? Your expression seems quite downcast."
"I'm fine." She replies brusquely. "I just need some time to think."
"Very well, I will see to your lunch then." You say, leaving.
Internally you resolve to return to check on her once more when everyone has finished eating. Perhaps she has received some ill news, or perhaps something more sinister is at work. It would hardly be in the spirit of an earnest attempt at friendship if you left her to languish in whatever black humour has overcome her.
Sure enough, when all have eaten their fill of the midday meal, you find Nova still looking downcast. Her meal has been eaten, so your wilder theories are put aside.
"Nova. I see your mood has not noticeably improved. Will you not tell me what ails you? Is there perhaps something in the letter that disturbs you?" You ask.
From the way Nova flinches, there is indeed something within the letter that causes her brow to crease. Still, your words do not bring the response you hope for. Anger swims to the surface of her expression.
"What business of yours is it!" She snaps. "I'm not going to have you poking about in Chantry official matters just to soothe your curiosity and I am certainly not giving any secrets up to a heretic and apostate!"
"I do not wish to learn secrets, nor have I asked for any." You reply soothingly. "I merely am concerned for you, given how the letter seems to have affected you."
"Why? It's not like we're friends or anything." Nova asks suspiciously.
"Sister Nova, you are my guest. That entitles you to my protection." You state factually. "I have also made a commitment to becoming your friend, thus I am concerned with your wellbeing. If you do not wish to explain your problems to me, that is your right."
Nova looks uncertain, so you drop down to her level. "Yet, if you need help, you have but to ask. None shall be left alone and helpless before their foes within my halls."
Nova's hands twist together, one moment clenching and the next wringing. A complex mess of emotions flashes across her face: anger, fear, disappointment, hope and yet more.
After a long period of thought she says, "The letter is from Elder Elspeth, requesting an update on my progress."
She trails off, but you can read much from her expression. The request must be urgent, and likely born of outside factors. For some reason, perhaps due to her lack of success, she is unwilling to give such a report. She is also hesitant to share what she considers Chantry secrets with you.
You suspect you could speculate about what is happening with a reasonable degree of accuracy, but you are unsure if that is the wisest course.
On balance, yes, you rather think it is.
"I appreciate that you cannot, in good conscience, share the details with me." You begin. "That said I could speculate on possible happenings. You would, of course, not need to confirm or deny anything, merely use it as useful background for the advice I give."
Nova's lip quirks slightly. "I suppose there's nothing I could do to stop you."
Once you are certain that her words were insincere you reply, "Not a thing."
"Alright, I'm interested to hear what exactly you think of the situation at hand. Not that there is a situation." She quickly corrects herself.
"Very well, I shall begin with speculation on the nature of the trouble at hand." You muse. "It must deal with myself, as that is the only contentious issue at hand, I believe."
"Rather conceited of you." Nova notes.
"It is more that I believe you to be a woman of action, and I believe that, in light of our recent conversations, your goal of swaying me to the Chantry's beliefs is the only goal you have second thoughts about accomplishing." You defend yourself.
Nova smiles slightly. Internally you praise yourself for finding a way to say 'you are a blind fanatic who shirks from nothing' in a complimentary manner.
Instead of sharing those thoughts, you continue. "From there it follows that Elspeth desires a report on your success. Were she the kind of superior who you would fear to deliver ill news to I doubt you would be conflicted about lying. Further, your behaviour when she was present suggests a degree of loyalty towards her."
Nova nods, then shakes her head. You conceal your smile at the sight of someone clearly so ill used to the kind of game she is currently playing.
"That means that there is likely some reason beyond her own desires that she needs a positive report." You say. "And it is here that we must leave the domain of relative certainty and enter the realms of pure speculation."
Nova focuses on you as you speculate. "There are likely factions within the Chantry, and you and Elspeth belong to one. My guess is that it is one that favours tight regulation of mages. There is another faction that opposes yours, likely one that intends to use my education of Xandar as a springboard for more decentralised mage training."
Nova's face is deliberately still, giving nothing away.
"It follows then." You conclude. "That you are unwilling to tell her that you are uncertain if you can convince me to fall in line with the Chantry's views as that would give your opponents ammunition. On the other hand, you are equally unwilling to lie to the woman you respect so much."
"If this were true," Nova asks guardedly, "What would your advice be?"
"That would rather depend on what it is exactly that you wish to achieve." You reply calmly.
"If it were true, which it is not, would I not be incapable of acting, due to the conflicting loyalties present? Either way I would betray the confidence of one who I 'respect so much'."
"It appears to me, and bear in mind that making comments without full information is a risk filled proposition in the gentlest of circumstances, that you would be best served by emphasising my opposition to the Chantry." You state calmly.
Nova raises an eyebrow at you. "Hypothetically?"
You shrug. "In the situation as described, whether it is hypothetical or not."
The Sister toys with the letter in her hands. "I fail to see how that would help, surely that would only indicate failure on my part. After all, that is the problem I would have been sent to bring you in line with the Chantry."
"In theory" She rushes to add after a moment passes.
"You misunderstand me." You explain. "You must stress that I oppose the Chantry on grounds other than what they expect. In this case, it would be emphasising the fact that I am disinterested in the organisation. I do not strictly oppose them; they merely do not factor into my decision making at all."
"That sounds like an excuse to me." She replies. "And I will not, I mean I would never lie to my superiors even in theory, so I can, could not, claim to have moved you from a position of opposition."
"All you have to report is that I barely give you any time or attention." You say. "This is true and the fundamental problem you have. I rarely give you any of my time and given my rank it is hard to demand it. Your usual levers of influence simply do not function the way they should, as I could not care less for your organisation or its Maker."
Nova chews her lip in thought. "That might work, if it needed to, though I still feel like it reflects poorly on me."
You smirk. "Which is why, if this were to happen, you would fill your response with requests to be replaced. Make frequent references to the difficulties of even getting an audience with me, of how little I care for your arguments that you suspect that I only humour you until our time is up and then I forget everything you said."
"Does, would that not still paint me as incompetent?" Nova asks.
You shrug. "Whenever someone fails at a task there will always be those who claim it was due to a lack of skill. The goal here is to demonstrate that the task is all but impossible, then by asking to be replaced you indicate a degree of self-awareness. Stress that you think someone with a different skill set might be more successful."
"Like sending a beautiful Sister to make you listen?" She ask cynically.
You give her a flat look. "Whatever you think would work better. It stresses how this is a duty outside of your skillset, while also proving you have been paying attention and doing your absolute best in the circumstances you find yourself in."
"Which then means that it's whoever placed me here's fault that I couldn't succeed. No, I will not betray Elspeth like that! Not to save myself." Nova proclaims stridently.
Frustrated, you stop trying to explain and just grab a pen and some paper. You write a note quickly, not bothering to try and capture Nova's voice. In it, you apologise profusely for failing to complete the task, stressing the indifference of the opponent. You even go so far as making up people who could do the task better.
When it is finished you show it to her, explaining, "You see, the goal is to create a subtext, the words you are saying is that the task is impossible due to external factors and requesting someone more skilled than yourself take the task, but the implication of the things you are saying is that you are being too hard on yourself, that nobody could do the task by you are blaming yourself. In this example, the people you are suggesting should be less skilled than yourself in these circumstances."
"Vindicating the choice to place me here." She breathes quietly. "Elspeth chose the best candidate, but the task can't be accomplished."
"That is the implication, yes." You confirm.
"Thank you." Nova whispers. "You've given me a lot to think about."
You never do find out what exactly is happening in the Chantry.