Notes: Fornier's interrogation got pushed to chapter 7. But there are a lot of other important things happening here, including a character viewpoint that Spells readers will hopefully enjoy.
Chapter 6: Secrets and Strength
Max was stunned for a moment at the Warden's declaration of himself, and the implications of his identity, before he realized that there was a far more critical matter than Warden Carver Hawke's family relationships.
"Wardens," he gasped, taking Carver's hand in a handshake, "you are so welcome here. And I hate to immediately pull you away from my advisors and companions, but..." He broke off, gathering his thoughts. "We have a Tainted person in the camp and the Grey Warden who has been among us doesn't have the ingredients for... that Warden thing you can do."
Carver slung off his pack. "Leliana's raven message to Lady Cousland mentioned that too. We do have those ingredients. And extra, in case contact with Corypheus Tainted anybody else."
Max realized that he did not actually know if that were the case. He gave a querying look to the Inquisition. Leliana answered. "To our knowledge, there are no others. Come. I must warn you that there may not be anything you can do for Felix, but..." She trailed off as both Grey Wardens, and the Dalish woman, followed her. After a moment, Max decided to follow them.
Carver turned to Max as they hurried toward the medical tent where the injured were staying. "He touched you, didn't he? Corypheus?"
"On my arm," Max confirmed, flexing the fingers of his marked hand.
"I don't detect the Taint in you, though. You were lucky."
Max raised an eyebrow. "You can feel it?"
"Sense it in our minds, yes. Darkspawn, other Wardens, and Taint victims. And we can tell the difference." The other Warden, Darrian Tabris, gave him a sharp look, and he winced. "Shit. I guess I just gave away a Warden secret."
Max wondered for a moment what that could be; it was common knowledge that Wardens could sense darkspawn, not a secret. Then it hit him. "Oh," he said. "Wardens are Tainted too, undoubtedly a lesser or controlled Taint."
"We must ask you to keep this to yourself, Herald," Tabris said. "Lady Cousland has permitted the spouses of Wardens—or equivalent, such as Leliana is to herself—to know certain Warden secrets. Merrill knows, for instance. We think so do Viscountess Hawke and Queen Anora. But this is actually against Warden policy, and our commander could get in a great deal of trouble with them for it. All the more so if it gets out that you know. She is not in good odor with them at the moment, and believes that the Order's corruption from Corypheus extends past Orlais and all the way to Weisshaupt itself."
"I understand," Max said, though he was bursting with curiosity. Were all the Grey Wardens on Corypheus's side now except those allied with Elissa Cousland? That was extremely bad news if so. "You have my silence."
Tabris nodded. "Thank you, Herald."
Max noticed that the Dalish woman, Merrill, was going to accompany them all the way to the tent. "Merrill? Are you Warden Tabris's wife?"
"No," she replied. "I am very close to Carver, in fact."
Max felt a prickle of shame at the assumption that she would be with Tabris because they were both elves. She had been riding behind Carver, after all.
"We met in Kirkwall years ago," Carver said apologetically. "She was—is—a friend of my sister, and helped the Free Mages on a council of theirs, but once they won their war, she came to Ferelden to be with me. We were going to finally marry... but then the Conclave blew up, and..." He trailed off.
"The time never felt right," Max finished for them. Carver nodded.
Max would have liked to continue the conversation, but they were at the medical tent now. A very grim look on her face, the sentry directed them to Felix Alexius, who, due to his infectious condition, had a separate tent away from the injured. Warden Blackwall would be at his side.
Dorian was outside the tent, having gone there at the summons of someone in the medical area. He looked distraught. Apparently Felix was about to die.
"We are Grey Wardens," Carver said to him rapidly, surmising the situation. "We have what your Warden doesn't. I must tell you, though"—he lowered his voice—"there is a chance that your friend still won't survive. Especially if it is as dire as we hear it is. If you need to say anything to him..."
Dorian heaved a breath, and Max realized he had been near tears. "He doesn't understand anything I say anymore. Just do it."
The party moved toward the dying man's bedside. In the shadows, Blackwall stood guard, deep sorrow and guilt on his face.
Carver and Tabris suddenly exchanged a sharp look and sucked in their breath. The elven Warden's eyes glinted, and Carver's eyebrows drew together.
Then the moment passed, and they faced Felix Alexius. He was indeed extremely far gone, his skin yellow-gray, mottled, and bloodshot with spidery dark veins. His eyes were nearly solid white.
"This is bad," Carver said, gaping at him. "I've never tried to Join anyone this far advanced in Taint before." He turned to his companions. "Darrian, let's try the experimental stuff. If anything has a chance of working, it's that."
"Agreed," Tabris said, pulling out a particular flask from his pack.
Max raised his eyebrows, wondering what this referred to.
Carver then turned to them. "I'm sorry, but I must ask everyone who isn't a Warden to leave." He looked at Blackwall, gaze hard and disapproving. "You, however, stay."
Merrill and Leliana obeyed, Max following behind, though he wondered what in the world was Carver's problem with Blackwall and why Carver seemed to think he needed an exception from leaving with the non-Wardens. As a Warden, wasn't he allowed to stay anyway? But they shuffled outside the tent to wait with Dorian.
"I don't suppose it's any use to ask what is 'the experimental stuff,'" Max said questioningly to Merrill.
"I don't know how much I should tell you," she mused. "But I can say some without giving away secrets. There is a very old Warden at Soldier's Peak who has done a lot of magical research for the Order."
"Avernus," Leliana said, her tone dark. "We met him during the Blight."
"He has created potions for... for preventing the downsides of being a Grey Warden," Merrill said evasively. "But they have to be taken after one takes... the potion that makes someone a Warden in the first place. Until now."
Max guessed. "Now he has a potion that does both? Makes someone a Warden and has these improvements in it?"
She nodded. "And it also has a higher survival rate. That is why Carver and Tabris are trying it." Her face fell. "I hope it works. That man looks bad."
A strangled gasp came from Dorian.
But at that very moment, Tabris exited Felix's tent, relief on his face. "I can't quite believe it, and neither can Carver, but he survived the Joining," he reported. Dorian sighed in relief. "He's going to be in a deep sleep for some time," Tabris continued. "That's normal after the Joining, but his case of Taint was extremely bad. We think he'll be asleep for a full day as the potion works its way through his battered system. Someone needs to ensure he gets water."
"If he's safe to handle now, I can do that," Dorian said. "Or Blackwall, if you and Hawke will be busy."
Tabris smiled thinly. "Ah yes. About your Blackwall. There's a problem."
At this point Carver emerged from the tent, Blackwall in front of him. The Orlesian was moving along submissively, shame on his face, not fighting. But to their shock, Carver had a dagger out anyway, pointed at Blackwall's neck.
Max sprang forward. "What are you doing?" he exploded. "I don't care who you are or who your sister is; this man is our companion and friend—"
"No, Herald, I deserve this," Blackwall muttered, unable to look at Max.
"What?" Max exclaimed.
Carver and Tabris exchanged a look that seemed to be a decision about who should speak first. Carver was the one to do it. "You are the victim of a deception, Herald," he said. "This man has the beginnings of Blight disease, undoubtedly from attending Felix Alexius, but he is not a Grey Warden."
Max and his companions gaped. "Is this true, Blackwall?" he blurted out.
The bearded man sighed, and the lines around his eyes deepened as guilt filled him. "Yes, it's true. And I might as well confess all. My real name is not Blackwall. It's Thom Rainier."
That meant nothing to Max, but it did mean something to Leliana. Her face curdled.
"I am sorry for deceiving you," he said. "If it means anything, I was a Grey Warden recruit. But I should start at the beginning."
The entire ugly story then came out: how he had joined the Orlesian army and been hired on by Grand Duke Gaspard's supporters to attack a supporter of Empress Celene. But instead of limiting the attack to the nobleman himself, Captain Rainier and his company killed his wife and young children in a brutal, dishonorable ambush attack. He escaped, fleeing in disgrace, and the real Warden Blackwall conscripted him into the Order. But the real Blackwall was slain before he could perform the Joining ritual that would officially make Thom Rainier a real Grey Warden.
"I swear by the Maker that I didn't kill him," Blackwall—no—Rainier vowed. "The man inspired me to become better."
"Why did you assume his identity, though?" Max asked harshly. "Why not report to another post of Grey Wardens and take the Joining there?"
"I didn't know what else to do. Blackwall had not made a written record of my conscription. I had no proof to offer. And then rumors surfaced about a corruption in the Wardens of Orlais... I considered going to Ferelden, I was so desperate, but the Hero of the Blight had already slammed the doors. I meant no disrespect to Warden Blackwall."
Carver spoke up roughly. "We'll take your word that you were conscripted. But Warden Blackwall's death doesn't remove that conscription. It's still in force." His gaze hardened. "But you will not be Joined under his name. I served in the Fereldan Army before my family went to Kirkwall. There was someone in my company who had joined the militia under a false name. But it was a name he made up himself because he was fleeing a father who beat him. My own brother-in-law changed his name for a similar reason—didn't want to share the name of a dad who got rid of him—and then took our family name after he married my sister. But impersonating someone, taking their identity—that's a different matter, and we won't have it."
Tabris chimed in. "You will take the Joining as Thom Rainier, as Warden Blackwall conscripted you. When the Inquisition reaches its destination and makes contact with the outside world again, we will inform the rest of the Wardens. This will clear you on the legal front."
Rainier nodded. "That was how I understood it, that when I joined the Wardens, all that would be in the past." His face darkened again with guilt. "I don't know how I feel about that, to be honest. It doesn't seem right. I ordered those innocents' deaths and even if the Wardens overrule that in the law, they don't overrule it in my conscience—or with the Maker. I think I should speak to a priest after I Join. There are priests about, that Mother Giselle for one."
Carver and Tabris exchanged concerned looks. "If it's important to you, you might want to do it before you Join," Carver said uneasily. "Even with the improved potion that we let you witness, the Joining can be fatal."
Rainier blanched. "Yes, I'd like to speak to the priest first, in that case."
Carver and Tabris allowed this, but Max noticed that they made sure to escort him under guard to Mother Giselle to confess. Clearly they did not trust him not to try to make a run for it even in the snowy wasteland.
Dorian relaxed and finally accepted a warm drink, with which he somberly toasted Felix's new path, the Inquisition, and—Max was sure he did not miss the gleam in the Tevinter's eye—the Herald. Everyone else seemed to relax as well. Leliana returned to the officers' tent to make provisions for the Wardens.
Max did not worry too much about Bla—Rainier. If the near-ghoul that Felix Alexius had been had survived with the Fereldans' new Warden potion, surely this healthy man would. He would have a long talk with him later. For now there was simply too much to take in. He had survived the avalanche, found the Inquisition camp, learned that their allies had probably survived due to a mass use of blood magic, seen the arrival of the Grey Wardens, and learned that one of his companions—one whom he had regarded as an ally against the political scheming elsewhere in the Inquisition—had not been as he had seemed. And in all of this, he had not had the chance himself to have food or drink. Now seemed a good time for that.
Soon after, the Wardens reported that, indeed, Rainier had survived his Joining and was finally a real Grey Warden. He was asleep too, but he was expected to awaken long before Felix Alexius did. This seemed a good opportunity to get to know Carver, Tabris, and Merrill, and the three of them finally sat down at the Inquisition's campfire to talk and fellowship with them.
At some point, other companions had decided to join, Solas and Sebastian among them. Varric too, and he was very happy to see Carver and Merrill, whom he called Junior and Daisy. They took it in stride.
Solas was not so approving or cheerful. He had made the same mistake Max had and assumed that the couple was Tabris and Merrill—but when he learned otherwise, his face filled with deep disapproval rather than personal embarrassment for making faulty and prejudiced assumptions.
"Merrill," he said when Carver had gotten up to check on the sleepers, "you intend to marry a human instead of one of our own people?"
Max felt as if someone had filled a bucket with ice water and dumped it on his head. This was the thoughtful, intelligent man he had come to like?
Merrill gave him a startled, angry look. "Yes, I do!" she replied sharply. "And I do not see what concern that is of yours."
"You are interested in the old ways," he said, gazing hard into her eyes. "The ancient lore of the elves. I can sense that about you. This man... I am sure he is a fine warrior, but that is all that he is, and he is not of the People—"
"You do not know him!" Merrill exploded. Magic sparkled from her palms. "How dare you judge him?" She seethed. "How dare you judge me, believing that I would be satisfied with someone who was nothing more than 'a warrior,' who does not appreciate my interests and cannot share them with me. Carver is interested in knowledge too! Why do you think he is here? Anyone can wield a sword if they are strong enough! Carver decided to learn much about the ancient magisters after he fought Corypheus the first time and then the voice started harassing the Wardens in the Beyond." She glowered at Solas. "But even if Carver were nothing but a fighter, it is not your choice whom I love!"
Solas, to his credit, was somewhat chastised. "I... suppose you are right. But I see so much of our people's lore, history, knowledge, even our very natures, being lost... and choosing partners who are not elves accelerates that."
"I lived in an alienage in Kirkwall for a time," she said coolly. "They arranged marriages in order to 'preserve the elven bloodline.' How much ancient lore of our people did they still have?" She scowled at him. "I was thrown out of my Dalish clan for wanting to pursue lost knowledge. I have lived among many different people. The Hawkes and their friends—in Kirkwall and in the Grey Wardens—have been more accepting than anyone."
Solas sighed. "I involved myself in something that was not my affair, as you said. You were right. But I cannot pretend that the loss of a great civilization, an empire of beauty and knowledge, a world order, is not a loss indeed, something to be mourned and regretted—and recovered if possible."
Max had to speak up then. "That sounds like something Cassandra said."
Solas hesitated. "I believe the Seeker is wrong about the Templars and Chantry—about that specific order—but the principle? The idea that the past has value and the valuable parts should be preserved instead of thrown away? With respect to that, I would have to agree with her."
"We'd all agree there are valuable parts of the past, Chuckles," Varric spoke up. "But 'recovering' the past can't be done. I've tried to get Cassandra to see that. Sometimes you have to move into a new house because your old one fell down. You can keep stuff from the old one if you saved it, but you don't pick up the pieces of the old one and try to rebuild the house. You move on."
Everyone fell silent after that, including Solas. Carver returned to the camp. The silence was broken when Sebastian Vael spoke up, asking them a question.
"When you do marry," he said to Carver and Merrill, "will your ceremony be Andrastian or Dalish? Do not worry about offending me," he added at once. "I... thought a certain way during the war... but since it ended, I have seen things differently. Defeat has humbled and broadened me."
Carver was looking hesitant to answer, but he mustered his courage at this. "Whatever we do will need to be very private, family and friends only. It can't be in Kirkwall, because my sister... Well, her being who she is, if it's in Kirkwall, the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall will want to do it, and that can't happen. The reason is, Merrill and I were thinking of having a mix. I swear before the Maker and she swears before the Creators."
Sebastian smiled. "That does not offend me. A year ago it might have, but not now. Perhaps they are only different names for the same divine force."
Max smiled too, thinking this was a very generous sentiment, just what he needed to hear after his crisis of faith before Corypheus and in the icy waste—
"They are not."
The cold, stark voice was Solas's. His face was darkened from the long shadows, flames from the campfire flickering visibly. His expression did not bear a single hint of a smile.
Everyone waited for him to elaborate, but he did not begin. Finally Max spoke, feeling like a candle that had been snuffed out. "Could you explain?"
"The beings that the Dalish call gods are not what the elves think they are." He was frowning. "I do not know if the Maker even exists, but if He does and is as good as you Andrastians hope, then He is nothing like the 'Creators.' And they are definitely not the same force."
Merrill glared at him. "And just how exactly would you know that?"
He did not take her angry bait, instead awkwardly hesitating. For a moment he seemed to want to blurt out something. But then that moment passed. "I have walked the Fade for many years. I have seen many things there, including memories and imprints of events from long ago."
Merrill frowned back. "But what is in the Beyond is not objective truth. It is merely someone's perception. It is what they remember, not what is."
Solas became distinctly uncomfortable and rose stiffly. "I should leave. I am inserting dourness and judgment into a discussion about happy matters." And before anyone could stop him, he walked off.
Rainier was the first to awaken, as the senior Wardens had expected. He rose from his sleep groaning, a plea for water on his lips. Carver got him a cup, he drank it down, and then his eyes met Max's—and his face fell in shame.
"I told you the truth last night," he said quietly, "but I don't think I apologized enough for everything. My past and my lies."
"Were you ever going to tell me if circumstances hadn't forced it out?"
Rainier sighed. "I honestly don't know," he admitted. "I became Tainted by carrying Felix, and if these Wardens hadn't come, eventually I wouldn't have been able to hide that. But if Pavus hadn't brought Felix... I don't know."
Max was hurt, but he managed to respond. "I can't say that doesn't hurt me," he said, "but... thank you for your honesty." He sighed as well. "I had come to consider you a friend, Bl—Rainier. Someone I could trust to see my point of view about corruption and the dangers to this Inquisition from trying to meddle in politics too much."
"I still do!" Rainier cried. "That's why I submitted to the Wardens. I know I deserved justice after evading it for too long. I know that what I was doing was wrong. I still agree with you about corruption, Trevelyan."
Max noted that he did not use the title of Herald, but instead, his name. It made a difference. Rainier was telling the truth, Max realized. "I'm glad to know," he finally said, "but you have to understand, this has shaken my trust in you. I'll continue to regard you as a friend and ally against corruption and power games, but you must understand why we'll need some time to rebuild the trust that I had before this came out."
Rainier nodded penitently. "I do understand fully. I brought it upon myself. I hope I can regain your trust in time."
"Just don't lie about anything big again," Max said lightly, shaking his hand. "That'll generally work."
To his relief, Rainier laughed—darkly and sheepishly, but still a laugh.
With that settled and the immediate crisis over, Max turned to his old friends and companions again. At Varric's request, Enchanter-General Petra of the Free Mages left the mage army's large camp—which had been separate, though within sight of the Inquisition camp—and entered the officers' circle to represent her army. Her face was pinched and glowering, and Max was sure he knew why: the spell some of her soldiers had performed in battle. Evidently she did not approve of it. All the more reason not to make an issue of it.
Dorian had the light of hope and relief in his face now that his mentor's son was going to survive after all, and he had given up his vigil by Felix's tent, leaving it to the Grey Wardens. Max invited him to the Inquisition officers' and inner circle's campsite, wanting to make it very clear to some of them—Cassandra, he thought darkly—that Dorian had his trust and was to be treated accordingly.
Dorian could also provide an inside account of the politics and coercion at Winterwatch Tower. Max didn't want to force him to do it, since he had lost his mentor to the Venatori, but Dorian waved that off, saying it was his duty.
"Fiona welcomed the Venatori to the tower as old allies," he reported, to Petra's dark scowling. "They gave her that red lyrium armor and Venatori cloak that you saw—"
"A mockery of Viscountess Hawke's armor and cloak," said Petra.
"Undoubtedly. Fiona thought that meant that she was one of them. She was wrong. They told her that if she wanted to become a full Venatori like Calpernia—who used to be a slave—then she would have to put in her time. She and all the mages were indentured to Venatori magisters, and the soporati cultists, led by someone named Speaker Anais, were enslaved. I suppose they became thralls or foot soldiers."
"Had the cultists welcomed the Venatori too at first?" Max asked.
"They had. Speaker Anais let them in cheerfully when they told her that they served the Elder One and that he had created the Breach they worshiped. Worshiping the Breach creator wasn't an original belief of theirs, but they fit it right into their doctrine readily enough."
"How awful," Max shuddered. "Maybe we should have made an attempt to speak to them... if they worshiped the Breach, maybe they would have turned to us if we claimed we could control and close it..."
"You would've had to get past Fiona's supremacist mages," Dorian said. "And I understand that in those days, a lot of people thought the Inquisition heretics. Teaming up with a cult wouldn't have been in your interest. Don't blame yourself for this, Trevelyan."
"That was the calculation," Max said heavily. "Still, they are dead or enslaved because of it. A decision to help us politically cost them their lives."
"Their choice to let Fiona's supremacist mages in, rather than trying to go to the Inquisition themselves, cost them their lives," Dorian said. "You weren't the only one with agency. They could have reached out to you. They didn't."
They fell silent for a time before Petra spoke again. "I personally struck Fiona down," she said. "But that armor she was wearing... it had melded with her somehow. We heard that the Red Templars, who we fought in our war, had armor like that, but obviously she wasn't a Templar."
"The Venatori were—are—very interested in red lyrium," Dorian said. "You saw it on Corypheus; I'm sure this directive comes from him. They wanted to look beyond using it on Templars to see what it could do bonded to mages."
"And undoubtedly saw a southern, elven mage as an acceptable sacrificial test subject," Max spat.
"Probably," Dorian said regretfully.
"They made their own choices, as you said, Pavus," Petra said harshly. "They could have stayed and fought with us. We would have let them despite their vile opinions. They left, took up with the Venatori, and paid the price."
"Considering what Viscountess Hawke and her consort have developed, their new weapons, it's probably for the best that they didn't remain in your army," said Leliana, speaking up for the first time. "They would have wanted those designs. And if they'd stolen them, Corypheus would have had them."
Petra shivered, harshness and vindictiveness vanishing abruptly. "Point."
Leliana rose from her seat. "I should confer with Solas, and so should you, Herald. He knows of a site where we might stay, a castle high in the Frostback Mountains. Corypheus will have difficulty reaching it, and even if he does, there are no settlements nearby that would be at risk like Haven was."
Max rose to his feet to follow her, wondering what Solas had in mind.
The castle that Solas knew of was very ancient, a fortress well over a mile up, named Skyhold. It was a large castle and some parts would be habitable at once, though he said it was likely to require construction work and renovation. There was even enough space on the grounds—despite its mountain location—for the Inquisition's army to bunk.
The Frostbacks had been disputed borderland between Ferelden and Orlais since the Fereldan Rebellion, both countries claiming them, but now the area of dispute had shifted westward into the Dales near Halamshiral. The mountains were fully Fereldan territory now with the Crown's land acquisition. Skyhold was therefore in Ferelden, and if the Crown wanted to continue to enforce their edict about Starkhaven's army having to return home, they could do so. Max resolved to write to them about the matter once they were settled in.
Once he had told them about the castle, Solas took Max aside privately.
"Corypheus created the Breach with an artifact of ancient Arlathan," he told Max. "A magical orb."
"What was it meant to do, and how do you know?" Max asked, curious.
"They were foci, used to channel ancient magic. I have seen such things in the Fade, old memories of older magic."
Max nodded. "I see. He claims to be a magister of ancient Tevinter. No surprise that one of them stole a relic of your people."
Solas turned aside, facing the wind. "I fear... This is a dark time, and I worry that if this becomes known, it will be used against the elves."
"The elves didn't create the Breach," Max said. "Corypheus did."
"But you know how people are, Herald. You are wiser than your age. You have seen already what the Inquisition itself could become."
Max nodded, sighing. "I do know how people are. But if anyone says that, blames your people for what he did, I'll use my name as Herald to speak against it. After all... I could enchant an artifact to... erupt with flames. I could intend it as a portable campfire. If someone stole it and used it to kill a child, that's their doing, not mine. I'll point that out if it becomes necessary."
"Thank you, Herald."
At last, Felix Alexius awakened. His skin had cleared of the bruise-like blotches and spidery blood vessels, and it had regained a normal rosy glow in place of gray and jaundiced yellow. He took the news that he was now a Grey Warden reasonably well.
"I do not know what I can do for the Wardens," he admitted to Carver, Tabris, and Rainier. "I am a mage, but barely. My father thought me the next thing to a soporati—a non-mage. But I can cast. I'm just not very powerful. Scholarship and research have been my work."
"There is plenty of opportunity for that in the Grey Wardens," Carver told him. "If you stay in Ferelden, there is an entire fortress full of mages—of varying abilities—and some of them don't fight much, but instead do research under the very Warden whose potion saved your life."
Felix nodded. "I might stay in Ferelden, then. It is not easy for a weak mage in Tevinter."
"You would be welcome among us," Tabris said.
Felix nodded again, sighing. "I appreciate what you did for me. I don't remember being sick very clearly... but what I do remember..." He shivered. "The voice. A terrible voice. I think it believed itself beautiful, but it wasn't to me. It was like... like a lure to my doom."
Carver and Tabris exchanged uneasy, pointed looks.
Felix leaned forward. "And I feel a lot better, of course, but... I still hear that voice." His eyes widened in a desperate plea. "It's as strong as ever. Being well hasn't quieted that voice a bit."
Rainier spoke up uneasily. "I didn't want to say anything about it, because I didn't know if it was just what Wardens face, but it's been the same for me. I began to hear it when I got Tainted, but it is very loud now."
Carver and Tabris sighed. "There is a dark fate that befell all Grey Wardens prior to the discoveries of the one I spoke of to you, Felix. It is known as the Calling. It's when the Taint inside you becomes too powerful to fight. But what you are hearing, Wardens Rainier and Felix, is not the Calling."
"Then what is it?" Rainier asked.
"It's some mimicry of Corypheus's. We don't know how he is doing it, but he is. You two will not face the Calling. Most of the Wardens who serve under Cousland—or Warden-Captain Stroud in Ansburg—won't. The potion you drank prevents that, and we've all taken a form of it with the same effect. Corypheus is doing this somehow; we just have to work out how." Carver fished in his armor for a flask. "This is a willpower potion. It helped us, decreased the volume and influence of his voice. Share it."
Max was astonished that they let him hear this, since he was not a Warden. His shock must have presented on his face, because Carver spoke up with a wry look. "You need to know this, since you're fighting the bastard. But obviously, it's also a Warden secret. So if you don't want to be forced to become a Warden yourself, keep it that way."
"I have no wish to become a Warden," Max agreed.
"So that," Carver concluded, "is how we know that the voice currently in our heads is that of Corypheus—or some minion of his. We've been hearing it for over two years, hence developing the willpower potion. Oh—and don't worry about King Alistair or Anders. They both know all about this and took the willpower potion. We fear that the other Wardens of Thedas don't know that it isn't the Calling, though."
"That's something we'll have to handle once we've reached Skyhold," Max finally said. "You Wardens—all four of you—can help with that."
Skyhold was a magnificent castle, even in a state of disrepair. When the Inquisition and its armies reached the mountain peak where the great fortress rested, they all gaped in awe—all except Solas, who had undoubtedly seen it before. Max wondered when it had been erected and for whom. It was amazing that something like this could exist in the middle of the mountains.
The place did need to be cleaned up and a lot of areas restored, but the Inquisition was strong and powerful enough now, with enough connections, that the advisors could hire carpenters and stonemasons to do just that. They began the work at once as the companions, displaced Haven villagers, and armies settled in. Additionally, others were arriving as word of the Inquisition's progress and destination must have trickled out.
Leliana and Cassandra affixed the heraldry of the Inquisition to the side of the castle at the main entrance. "Skyhold is becoming a site of pilgrimage," Cassandra declared. "But if word has reached these people, it will have reached the Elder One. We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated. And we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you."
"He came after me because my efforts put the Inquisition in his way."
"Perhaps in more ways than you have considered." She began to ascend the steps to the castle. "Your decisions let us heal the sky, make allies, and save the lives of hundreds. Your determination brought us out of Haven. You are that creature's rival because of what you did. And we know it. All of us."
Max smiled. "I'm honored. We've come a long way from the Conclave."
"I exercised terrible judgment that day," Cassandra said shamefacedly, "which would have been the death of us all if I had not been stopped. I nearly killed not just an innocent person, but the one person who can stop the true enemy." They reached the step where Leliana waited, bearing a sword, which she held out to Max. "Leliana bears less guilt than I do, but we are both in agreement, the Inquisition needs a leader, and it should not be either of us. It should be you."
Max accepted the sword from Leliana. "I accept. Thedas will see a mage standing for what is right, standing against Corypheus and the forces of darkness and tyranny that he commands. Long ago Corypheus tried to claim the Golden City. He failed, and no more will he succeed in claiming Thedas!"
"Wherever you lead us!" Cassandra called out, pleased. "Commander—will our people follow?"
"Inquisition!" Cullen called. "Will you follow?"
Max's heart swelled at the roar that ensued. Perhaps we can be the organization we should be. Perhaps we can stand for more than power.
"Your leader!" Cullen cried. "Your Herald! Your Inquisitor!"
Max and the Inquisition had barely been settled in at Skyhold before they all agreed that they needed to plot their next moves. The castle had a war room far grander and larger than that at the erstwhile Haven Chantry, and it was there that they decided to hold council meetings.
Leliana spoke first at the opening meeting. "The envy demon showed you many things at Therinfal Redoubt," she said. "Some were lies meant to break you, but we believe that there was an important truth revealed. The 'Orlesian soldiers' that it conjured near the end spoke of the assassination of Empress Celene. This, we think, is a real plan of Corypheus."
"The war in Orlais has been ruinous," Josephine added. "Grand Duke Gaspard and Empress Celene have both committed terrible acts, tearing their country apart. If the Empress were to be murdered now, we believe it would be the spark that starts an inferno—a firestorm of chaos that Corypheus will use."
"It is important to have a strong Orlais as a counterweight to the Tevinter Imperium," Leliana added. "I understand that you have become friends with Dorian Pavus, but you must realize that he is very atypical for a magister's son. And he chose to join us. I do not think you need worry about offending him by supporting a strong opposition to the power of Tevinter."
"Why can't we help the opposition in Tevinter?" Max objected. "Corypheus wants to restore Tevinter to its golden age. He has Venatori who support that goal and some of them are powerful in Tevinter politics. Dorian's faction may be all that stands between them taking over Tevinter."
"We can and will provide aid to Dorian's faction," Leliana assured him. "But it is delicate, since we are of the Orlesian Chantry and Tevinter does not recognize it as legitimate. It is most important to shore up Orlais."
"I will work on a plan," Josephine said. "The War of the Lions must be resolved, a strong and unchallenged leader in place on the throne, and since they seem unable to do it themselves, it falls to us."
Max suppressed the frown that wanted to spread over his face. The moment of glory and hope in front of the Skyhold steps seemed already long gone.
"I understand," he finally said, "but I don't want to do anything unethical to achieve that end. I don't want to fall into the muck and mire."
Leliana smiled indulgently, but it was also a dark smile. "To settle an Orlesian war, we must play the Grand Game, Inquisitor."
To Inquisitor Trevelyan and the Inquisition:
The King and Queen of Ferelden express our relief that you survived the attack of the ancient magister Corypheus.
However, we must also express our dismay and disapproval of the destruction of Haven, a thriving Fereldan town and site of profound importance to the Andrastian faithful (as well as a site of historical importance to Ferelden due to events of the Fifth Blight). Our sources inform us that it was not the magister who struck the blow that buried the town in snow and rubble; it was the Inquisition. We are also informed that this was no accident or unintended consequence, but was the intended outcome of your act. Such terrible acts may be militarily necessary on occasion. However, we must admit to doubts that this was truly the case in this instance. We are not accusing the Inquisition of destroying Haven out of malice, but it was—in our estimation—an insufficiently considered and ill-judged decision.
Ferelden does not need or desire any assistance from the Inquisition in rebuilding our town. We shall do that ourselves.
In addition, since the magister has named you his chief target and you have demonstrated that you will destroy local settlements, permanent or semi-permanent Inquisition military fortifications are henceforth banned from any settled village, town, or city in Ferelden. Furthermore, unless Corypheus's forces are already marching toward or attacking a site, your armies are banned from quartering or camping within ten miles of any Fereldan settlement, and twenty miles from the towns and cities of Denerim, Jader, Amaranthine, Highever, Gwaren, and Redcliffe. Any future Inquisition business with the Crown or Lords of Ferelden must consist in unarmed diplomats only.
We have decided to permit your organization to occupy the castle of Skyhold, due to its remote location isolated from any populated areas. You may also keep the thousand Starkhaven soldiers at Skyhold so long as you command them.
However, Haven's destruction does require concessions to Ferelden. The Crown of Ferelden informs the Inquisition that, should you become involved in resolving the Orlesian war as is rumored you intend to do, you must extract a signed and sealed promise from the victor that Orlais will respect the new western border of Ferelden. The Kingdom of Ferelden offered the residents of these lands safety and protection from the Orlesian war in their own familiar homes if they changed their allegiance from Orlais to Ferelden. We gave them full right to refuse our offer with no threat of retaliation and they overwhelmingly chose to join Ferelden. The Inquisition will demand that the winner of the Orlesian civil war respect this fact, or Ferelden will withdraw its consent for the Inquisition to occupy Skyhold and will require significant financial reparations for Haven instead of merely the terms laid out in this document.
Despite our differences, please know that we enthusiastically support your fight against Corypheus and are willing to aid this effort.
King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden
Queen Anora Mac Tir Theirin of Ferelden
.
The letter from the monarchs of Ferelden was, to Max, not wholly unexpected, and he privately felt that their bans on Inquisition presence near settlements were completely deserved—but no one liked it.
"We had no choice," Cullen groused. Max thought it was a bit convenient that he, the one who had devised the idea, thought so, but he kept silent. "And we saved everyone that we could. There were actually very few casualties from the avalanche."
"But Haven itself fell," Varric pointed out.
Vivienne waved her hand dismissively. "They had no choice but to issue this sternly worded letter to save face. It would have looked weak if they had had no response after the destruction of Haven. They are also undoubtedly posturing as a 'strong power' now that word has leaked out that we intend to restore the strength of Orlais and settle its terrible war. But the dog's bark is worse than its bite, I think."
"You don't think they mean what they say?" Dorian said, to Max's gratitude. "I was told that Queen Anora had an entire legion outside Therinfal Redoubt to do exactly as she apparently threatened."
"If the Inquisition's forces become numerous and strong enough, Ferelden will not dare go against us."
Max exchanged a dark glance with Dorian. "That's not what I want us to be," he said.
"It may become necessary, however," Leliana said equally darkly. "It is as Divine Justinia said to the Right Hand and me before she died: Without a strong power, all the other powers will be squabbling, posturing, and knifing each other in the back."
Orlais appears to be unable to do that, Max thought. Orlais has made no demands or threats. Yet it is the "strong power" we're supposed to support? It is the counterweight to Tevinter, rather than Ferelden or the new Free Marches under Hawke's defense treaty? That makes no sense.
He kept this to himself, resolving to discuss it with his trusted associates later.
Kirkwall.
Caitlyn Hawke, Viscountess of Kirkwall, was horrified when word of the Conclave disaster reached her city. Justinia was dead. Caitlyn had been fed up with the late Divine by the end, ready to move on and work with someone else, someone less determined to cling to scraps of power after a war in which her own choices had made her irrelevant. Working with someone else did indeed require the death of the Divine. But Caitlyn had not wanted it to happen this way, and when Varric told her of the Breach, a specifically personal horror came over her at the image.
She had had dreams about the Breach before.
She had not known it would be called that, but it was definitely the Breach. And everything else has come to pass from those dreams, she thought, the blood-soaked ground, the crown dripping with blood, the long path I walk alone, now the Breach. And—but she resisted the thought of the final piece of imagery in her dream.
The explosion in Haven had also killed one of Grand Cleric Petrice's representatives, the Templar Ser Varnell. Caitlyn was privately glad that he had gone to face the Maker's judgment. Petrice was one thing; she was a zealot who believed that her way was the only way to grace, but she also believed that it was open to every race and people of Thedas. Varnell did not. He had held that some people—the qunari race—were damned no matter what they believed or how they lived. It was loathsome, and Caitlyn was glad that she would never have to deal with him again.
The Grand Cleric's other representatives, Mothers Lorena and Samea, were two judgmental gossips, and that was the extent to which Caitlyn knew them, but she did know that they were not nearly as offensive as the dead Varnell had been. They had survived and returned to Kirkwall. With Varnell's death, Petrice's new bodyguard was one who had been by her side since the early days of the Mage-Templar War: Keili, the Enchanter from Ferelden who had found her calling using her magic to serve Petrice's agenda. Her religious zeal was a little unnerving to Caitlyn sometimes, but she too was far less offensive than Varnell had been. Petrice was visiting Caitlyn and Anders today and Keili waited at the door, Chantry robes exchanged now for light armor with the Chantry sunburst, her staff—also with a metal sunburst in place of a globe—at the ready in case some threat emerged near the private audience chamber.
In this day and age, Caitlyn thought, maybe she has the right idea.
"I think Your Graces should bring the remaining mages back to Kirkwall," Petrice advised Caitlyn and Anders. "They have sealed the Breach. I know that you said they were also allowed to fight the armies of its creator, this Corypheus, but the Inquisition is not to be trusted, in my opinion." Her gaze narrowed. "They have admitted a Ben-Hassrath spy into their inner circle."
That was indeed concerning, Caitlyn had to admit. She had heard from Varric that they had admitted the warrior in order to keep an eye on him—better to have a spy that they were watching than one that they weren't. Elissa Cousland had also had a Qunari among her people in the Blight. But the fact remained that Kirkwall officially named the Qunari a hostile power, and that meant that anyone who allied with them was suspect.
"They have brought in a thousand Starkhaven soldiers and conscripted all the Templars and Seekers who didn't take red lyrium, including those who joined the schism," Petrice continued. "They are building an army, Your Graces, and from my perspective, it appears that they intend to wield their growing power. I think you need to get the remaining mages back in Kirkwall while you still can. If the Inquisition's own forces become numerous enough, they may decide to keep the Free Mages there simply because they have the power to. And then you will be forced into a terrible choice: let them, or play your trump card and strike their fortress."
Caitlyn saw the priest's point. But—Kirkwall's posture aside—she had to acknowledge that there was some logic to Leliana's decision with the Qunari agent, and that meant that there was some logic to not pulling up all stakes from the Inquisition.
"If the Inquisition does become a threat," she said slowly, thinking it out, "would it really be wise to have no one there to speak for Kirkwall? To hold them back? To advocate for mages?"
"You have Varric, your brother, your friend Merrill, and the mage leaders."
"That is true," she acknowledged.
"And in my view, this Inquisition intends to replace the Chantry with itself, choosing the next Divine because they have the sheer brute power to do it, rather than following tradition and respect for the priesthood by letting us do so. Even if they did form with Divine Justinia's approval in one of her final acts, that is a troubling thought." She gave them both a pointed look. "And whatever their motives for letting him be present, the Qunari spy is a concern. They know Kirkwall's national stance on the Qunari as an enemy state, and they know the righteous position to take about those infidels—yet they act in this way anyway. They are no friends of Kirkwall and no friends of those who would stand against the evil ideology of the Qun. Once this Corypheus is dead, the Qunari will be the next threat we face. Their incursion here, the agents they have placed in Ferelden, in Orlais, and now in the Inquisition... It is clear that they are on the rise. We need to prepare for the next threat even while we fight the current one. And my advice is that we in Kirkwall, Your Graces especially, should support an alternative contender for Divine, one not connected with the Inquisition... should one emerge."
Petrice and Keili left, leaving Caitlyn and Anders alone. They waited to be certain that they were alone. Then Caitlyn sighed.
"I hate to say it," she told Anders, "but I'm afraid she is right."
Anders threw an arm around her shoulders, sensing, correctly, that she was ill at ease and frightened. She relaxed a bit at his touch as he massaged her shoulder blades. "I fear that too," he said. "What she said makes a lot of sense. But I'm afraid it's a rock and a hard place, because I also fear a heavily armed and powerful Inquisition with no one to influence the Inquisitor in favor of mage rights and Kirkwall's interests. Trevelyan may be a good man. I'd bet that he is, in fact. But he's very young, very inexperienced, he came from the last Loyalist Circle in a city that has not yet signed our defense treaty, and there are many people around him who are very good at influencing others."
"That's exactly my worry, that it's not just about whether he can be trusted."
Anders nodded. "Precisely."
"And... to be honest, Anders, I feel some personal guilt about all of this too. The Magister Sidereal they face, the one who killed Justinia and tore open the sky, is Corypheus. Corypheus! I killed him! Or so I thought." Her face crumpled. "Clearly I was wrong. In retrospect it was bloody obvious. That old Warden, Larius, didn't sound right at the end. I should have struck him dead with a lightning bolt—"
Anders pulled her into an embrace from the side. "Hey—it is not your fault. You were stressed and injured. Badly injured. Maker's breath, they carried you into the house because your spinal injury had compressed the nerves leading to your legs, and you couldn't walk! And you could not have known that Corypheus could do what the Archdemons can do." He caressed her shoulders. "If you had killed Larius, he might have just been able to jump to Warden Tabris... or Carver."
Caitlyn shuddered. "Fair point. But that backs up what you said about the Inquisition. Not only do we need to keep someone there to advocate for the Free Mages and Kirkwall, it may be that Trevelyan is the only person who has what it takes to kill Corypheus permanently." She sighed again. "But I still think Petrice is right about the Free Mage Army. However good he may be, however necessary his abilities may turn out to be, this is an organization we're talking about, and one that seems power-hungry. They have gathered soldiers, conscripted all the Templars who didn't take red lyrium other than those serving under Thrask here. The Inquisition doesn't need the mages anymore and I do not particularly want to let it have them. As Petrice said, they may decide to keep them in defiance of my contract just because they can. If our war taught me one thing, it's that fortune favors those who can force their will."
"I agree with that. So we can have advisors there without letting them have hundreds of battlemages."
Caitlyn nodded. "It's probably impolitic to recall them right now, just as Corypheus has revealed himself. And it would look particularly bad if they can say that I'm the one who 'set him loose.' So I'll let the matter lie for the time being but pull them back once the Inquisition has settled in at Skyhold."
Anders leaned back and stretched. "Regarding Skyhold," he said abruptly, and she noticed that his expression was troubled. "The priest mentioned that if the Inquisition did decide to keep the Free Mages, we would have to either be weak and submit, or strike them. That was viable when they were at Haven, but I'm not sure the rockets can strike at Skyhold's elevation."
"The biggest ones have an effective range of a mile, don't they? And their paths are not straight horizontal. They actually travel more than a mile. Just how high up is that castle?"
He shook his head. "It's different to shoot them almost straight vertically."
Caitlyn, the force mage, then understood. "Oh... right. You're fighting gravity pretty much directly."
He nodded. "That, and Skyhold is well over a mile up the mountain. Somewhere between a mile and two miles. We'd have to get them up one of the neighboring mountains, closest to the one the castle is on, and I'm not sure we could without being seen. So the location of their new site is yet more power to them. We could give them pause about defying us when they were at Haven. Now? I'm not so sure. The Inquisition may actually be able to defy us with impunity. And that bothers me—a lot."
"Could the rockets be improved to have greater range?"
"I'm going to research and experiment with that," he said. "There's only so much that can be done with runes."
"And the ones we have already have a lot of runes."
"But if we could give a little more oomph to the powder... enough that the drag of gravity isn't too much... then maybe. I think the formula is as refined as it can be with present ingredients, but with additional ingredients like lyrium dust, and the use of magic in the powder-making process itself, infusing every grain of it with extra force, if that can be done... then perhaps. Perhaps they could then be powerful enough to strike Skyhold." He grimaced. "And I pray to the Maker it doesn't come to that. That's awful to contemplate."
Caitlyn shuddered too. "It really is. The Inquisitor himself has good goals, and there are people there who matter to us both. I think they could get out if they had warning, and I'm certain that Carver and Merrill would keep the attack plan a secret for us."
"Not Varric or the Free Mage leaders?"
She rubbed her head, sighing. "Varric is getting as close to Trevelyan as he is to us, and the mage leaders are... well, they are righteous people. I'm a head of state. I can't afford not to have some ruthlessness in me. I do trust my brother and Merrill not to tip them off if we actually were forced to hit Skyhold, but I really, really don't want it to come to that. But we do need to be able to make a plausible threat to them, just to keep them from thinking they can disregard us. Do this, love—get to work on this research and experimentation, carefully," she added with a wry smile, "but don't tell anyone specifically why you want to do it. And if you have a breakthrough, don't perform a public test demonstration. I will want to keep the rocket upgrade a secret in case the Inquisition does give us trouble about the Free Mages or anything else."
"And if it does, then we hit somewhere high in the Vimmarks for the test, a shocking demonstration that their fortress is not safe from us anymore."
"Precisely."
He kissed her cheek and then leaned forward. "I'll get to that then." He fell silent, as did she, for a while—but just before the silence became awkward, he spoke again. "And the last thing the priest said. It's blindingly obvious that Petrice means to try to become Divine herself."
"Yes. She does."
"Are you going to publicly support her?" he asked, grimacing.
"I don't know yet. I don't know who else is in contention." Caitlyn sighed. "I have serious concerns about the idea of Petrice in such a powerful role. I don't need to remind you of her burning people at the stake as heretics, her drive to convert everyone. Varric says that Leliana seems to be interested in the role, which is unorthodox, but these are strange times. I just don't fully trust her anymore, after the war and the fact that she was by Justinia's side throughout it. Yet despite that, I think Leliana would be better for religious liberty and freedom of thought—"
"I'd agree with that if we're talking about the Leliana you knew in Lothering"—he suppressed the spark of jealousy that still flared—"or that we met in 9:34. But Varric writes us a different story. The cold-blooded Leliana who did Justinia's bidding by any means necessary? I don't know."
Caitlyn nodded heavily. "That's the issue, and that's what gives me pause about all of it. Is the old Leliana just—gone? Am I thinking about a person who doesn't really exist anymore? And the fact remains that 'Divine Petrice' would be better for Kirkwall or for fighting the Qunari, because I also think she is right about that. They're the next threat Thedas faces once Corypheus is dead. But the very thing that concerns me about Leliana of today frightens me about the idea of Petrice in that role."
Anders sighed. "All the more reason to keep people we trust in Skyhold, get the army out, and reestablish our ability to make a credible threat."
Notes: So we see the first sign of one of the dark visions that the envy demon showed Max: the one of the aftermath of Kirkwall striking Skyhold with its weapons.
Once again, I'm not trying to sway readers to side with one power or another when it's Ferelden or Kirkwall/VMTO versus the Inquisition. I'm writing what seems realistic to me in the AU setting I have built. After the Inquisition intentionally destroyed Haven, which is unambiguously Fereldan in this AU, I don't think they'd be welcome anywhere near Fereldan towns again. And I don't think Caitlyn Hawke and Anders would rest easily knowing that Skyhold's elevation did not just render the Inquisition safe from Corypheus, but also gave it the ability to defy them with impunity.