A/N:
A/N at the end
Disclaimer: See the previous Disclaimer.
II
Solas was worried. Despite his knowledge and insights granted by the Fade, the terrifyingly powerful woman that went by the name Irina remained a complete mystery to him. From her unusual abilities to simply where she came from and everything in between. And not knowing might prove to be his undoing.
Out of precaution, he had not yet attempted to peer into her dreams and unlike the man who bore his Anchor, she had woken up after barely half a day despite the crushing blow she had received. And upon waking, had been promptly returned to her cell in the dungeons to no doubt be interrogated to uncover more of her origins.
Whatever else she was, Irina was first and foremost dangerous as Solas was unsure if he would manage to escape when the time came as it inevitably would. The things she was capable of were astounding, compounded by the fact that Solas had not felt her pull from the Fade at all, throughout their journey to the Breach. Her magic appeared to be entirely innate and cost less.
His other problem stemmed from the fact that his Anchor had bonded to a bumbling minor noble from Ostwick. It was supposed to kill the darkspawn abomination that he had given it to, but one should be forgiven for not imagining said abomination had become effectively immortal. As for the noble, the man only had a bare minimum of skill with a blade, no ability with magic and there ended his usefulness.
Yet he was essential in correcting the unforeseen effects the Breach had had on the world.
Solas sat by the fire, lost in dark thoughts, barely forty paces from the gates of the Chantry building, surrounded by humans, one boisterous dwarf and a few of the beings these people called elves without knowing how utterly wrong they were and felt alone. His goal had never felt so far from his grasp.
"...uckles, think he'll be waking up soon? It's been three days…" came Varric's question drawing him from his reverie. Suddenly he found himself the center of attention of the little group Varric insisted on entertaining every evening.
"I cannot be sure Mr. Tethras, but if I were to hazard a guess I would be inclined to say soon" having said his piece, Solas retreated into his thoughts. Perhaps it was time to risk peering into her dreams…
-DoT-
Everything hurt. Max shifted on the very comfortable bed, he assumed, he was lying on testing his muscles. Nearly everyone felt sore and overused. His eyes blinked open and he groaned at the sudden brightness. When the white spots faded he took a look at his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a small wooden home, sparsely decorated. It felt warm and homey, though a bit less extravagant than he was used to.
Somewhere beyond his feet, a door opened. He felt a cold draft that carried the smell of tea and fresh bread. Max sat up slowly, his stomach grumbling all the while, and found himself face to face with a young elf carrying a tray. Her eyes had gone comical wide, her jaw limp in surprise.
In her surprise, she dropped the tray she held in her hands with a loud crash, startling her out of her stupor.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were awake, I swear! Did I wake you? I didn't mean to! I'm just supposed to bring you breakfast in case you wake up. Which you have. Oh no! I dropped it! Forgive me, your Worship! I just…" she rambled, looking on the verge of panicking.
"It's alright," answered Max, his tone as soft as possible, "I'm Maxwell, what's your name?" he asked, shooting her his best smile.
"L-Lynarra, Y-Yo-Your Worship" she stuttered.
Max swung his legs off the bed and attempted to stand. He wobbled briefly before he found his footing, ugh I'm weaker than I thought. "I'm sure that food 's still good, don't worry."
His smile faltered when Lynarra threw herself down, forehead planted firmly on the floorboards.
"I'm sorry my Lord! I'm just a humble servant, Your Worship" she said, her voice pleading.
"Uhm… could you please stop bowing down? Please."
Hesitantly she lifted her head and looked up at him, though she remained kneeling, "B-but we should bow. You s-saved us! The Breach, it's stable n-now, just like your mark."
As she spoke, she rose to her feet, though her posture remained meek, "I have to go. 'At once' she said."
Maxwell saw her turn and run," Wait! Who's 'she'?" he yelled as she fled. He attempted to run after her, but on his first step his leg failed and he fell face first. Ow! Maker that hurt! Damn leg, he thought as he lay there on the floor, inches from his spilled... lunch? Breakfast? Who knew, but it was food and now that he had fully woken up he was hungry. Max sat up, picked up the tray and placed it on his knees.
He shivered and started eating, both the bread and what little was left of the soup, were still somewhat warm. Cold air had blown in as Lynarra had fled through the door reminding him he wore only trousers. His light meal completed, Max rose to his feet and placed the now empty tray on a table that was at the foot of his bed. Feeling better, Max began exploring the admittedly small cabin and after about a minute found a chest underneath the window opposite his bed. In it were several items, such as clothes, a few sovereigns and some of his things, things he had assumed had been confiscated and were now returned. The clothes included a loose shirt, leather jerkin, metal vambraces and supple boots. As Max got dressed he noticed they had not returned the weapons he had picked up in the mad dash to the Breach, oh well I'm sure they'll turn up.
Once dressed he made his way to the door. He opened it and was assaulted by the cold air of the Frostbacks, well I must be in Haven, he thought, looking up at the mountain range in the distance. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight, though the beauty of the scene was marred by the now quiet green monstrosity that still floated several hundred paces above the ground. He let his gaze fall back to his surroundings and was stunned by the veritable throng of people that stood, sat and in some instances knelt, in utter silence no more than ten paces from the cabin.
The crowd was composed of men, women and children, both human and elven, though the latter were outnumbered ten to one. Many of the women, as well as some of the children, held candles aloft, fluttering in the mountain wind. At the front stood a dozen soldiers, ramrod straight and fists to hearts. All of it in silence, save for the wind.
Unsure what to do, Maxwell stepped forward slowly, his mind racing. What are all these people doing here? Were they waiting for me! Maker's Breath what is happening!? I must still be sleeping. As he neared the crowd the soldiers stepped smoothly to the side to allow him passage. As the soldiers moved the crowd started parting, creating a way forward.
Maxwell continued walking and for a moment the silence held, then the whispers started.
"Look it's the Herald."
"The Herald has come back to us."
"I knew the Maker would save him."
"Andraste's Herald, he saved us."
"He stopped the Breach."
"Mommy, Mommy look, his hand glowed."
As he walked deeper into the crowd multiple hands reached for him and internally he flinched, but none touched him, it was as though no one dared to.
He walked and the word followed him, "Herald" they whispered. The whispers resonated in his ears, bouncing around inside his head growing louder and louder. He walked faster trying to escape it. About twenty paces into the crowd the passageway veered to the left. Max's mind reeled, he felt the need to run and hide but he had no idea how the people around him would react. He kept walking his mind fraying, up a flight of stairs and deeper into the crowd until suddenly, finally, the crowd faded and he stood at the foot of a Chantry. The building loomed overhead, the stone was old and weathered. Nestled in an arch in the center of the facade, was a wooden door emblazoned with the large sun representative of the Chant of Light. On each side of the doors stood several Mothers and assorted members of the Chantry.
Max hurriedly pushed one of the heavy wooden doors open and stepped inside the building, closing the door behind him, cutting off the whispers. What a relief. They can't mean me, I'm no one's herald, I'm nowhere near devout. I need to find Irina and the others, I'm sure they'll be able to explain all this.
In the silence of the Chantry, he heard the muffled voice of Cassandra, yelling from the far end of the building. The interior of the building was warm and well lit, with large lanterns every 5 paces. Underneath the lanterns, soldiers stood stock still. The center of the hall was covered by a deep blue carpet that extended from a few paces behind the door to nearly to the end. At the said end stood a wooden door framed by more soldiers. Overhead a red banner, adorned with the Chantry symbol, hung limply.
As he made his way closer to the voice he could also make out the aggravating voice of Chancellor Rodrick arguing back. When he was within ten paces of the door at the end of the hall he managed to catch a piece of their conversation, "Have you gone completely mad? They should be taken to Val Royeaux and made to stand trial for their heinous crimes! Must I list them again?" yelled the Chancellor.
Max decided he should maybe let Cassandra argue with the irate man but his hopes of staying out of the argument were dashed when one of the guards opened the door and ushered him inside.
Inside, two Templars framed the entrance. The room was dominated by a large oak table, two meters wide and nearly five meters long, its surface was mostly used up by two maps, one of Ferelden and the other of Orlais.
Around the table stood six people, on the left side Chancellor Rodrick, red-faced from his argument with Cassandra, who stood near him, agitated as well. Right behind her stood Leliana, her face the picture of calm. On the right side of the table were three people, though Max was only familiar if one could call it that, with Solas. Thank the Maker! At least I'm not the only one here that looks as though he would rather be elsewhere. The others were the curly-haired Commander that he had briefly met near the Breach and a dark-skinned, possibly Antivan, woman with dark hair and amber eyes. Both seemed content to simply watch the argument unfold.
Max gave a small nod to the elf and turned back to the ongoing argument just as the Chancellor rounded on him, "Chain this man," he told the guards "and prepare him for transport!"
Cassandra turned towards the two soldiers, her eyes blazing. She fixed her glare on them and said, "Leave us," her voice commanding. They saluted and left, their pace perhaps a bit more hurried than was proper, not that I blame them, Cassandra can be terrifying when she wants to.
Rodrick turned back to the Seeker, his hands fists and his voice tight with anger, "You tread a dangerous path Seeker."
"I will not permit us to ignore the threat of the Breach, which remains a threat so long as it hangs in the sky, stable or not!" answered Cassandra, her voice rising in volume.
Max felt that it was time for him to say his piece, "I'm sorry Rodrick, did you miss the part where I damn near killed myself stabilizing the giant, green hole in the sky? No? Well, you tell me when you want to swap hands so you can have a go." Damn it, I didn't mean to blow up like that, got to watch myself.
"And yet you still live. How convenient. For you that is," came the Chancellor's answer.
"Remember Chancellor," bit out Cassandra, "you were not there, you did not see the monstrosity that killed Most Holy. The threat remains."
"Whoever that was," jumped in Leliana " is responsible for the attack on the Conclave. It must also be noted that whether or not they survived, they may have allies ready to continue what they have begun," she added, with a pointed look towards Rodrick.
"You mean to insinuate that I may be one of those allies? Has your mind been so muddled that you no longer recognize the insanity of your words?!" yelled the Chancellor, spittle flying from his mouth in his fervour.
Leliana remained perfectly calm as she answered, "You, and many, many others, are all suspects."
"But not the prisoner, nor his strange companion," retorted the Chancellor.
Surprisingly it was Commander Cullen who replied, "You forget Chancellor, that the woman walked back into her cell of her volition. Though she has yet to yield any personal information I refuse to subject her to torture on such a flimsy basis, especially since she has been a model prisoner."
Max couldn't keep the surprise and anger out of his voice, "You put her back in jail," he said, his eyes boring into Cassandra, who had the grace to appear a bit mollified.
"It had to be done," intervened Leliana "while you are a known quantity as the youngest son of Bann Trevelyan, though somewhat of a black sheep, Irina is a complete unknown. Her unwavering gaze bore into Maxwell's, well someone's done their research, he thought before nodding slightly to the redheaded woman.
Straightening up Max looked at those assembled, his eyes hard and his face stone, and said, "Regardless, if you want my help moving forward, assuming there is a plan, I want her treated as well as I am."
Cassandra held his gaze for several seconds before acquiescing.
"You would have me believe," came Rodrick's voice louder and angrier than before, as though irate at having been forgotten, even if briefly, " that their survival and that thing and his hand, was all coincidence?"
"It was providence," answered Cassandra, her voice calm, though her eyes betrayed her conviction.
Oh Maker not this again, I can't have anyone thinking I'm some kind of saviour, Max thought.
"No, no wait a moment, the vigil outside was enough. I am no one's chosen and I will not be put on a pedestal because I did what anyone would have done," Max intoned.
"Regardless of who you were and whether you believe it or not," Cassandra said, her tone soft, "You, and to an extent Irina, were exactly what we needed."
"Whatever our respective beliefs," interjected Leliana, "the Breach remains and your mark is our best chance at closing it."
She's got a point there, Max thought, according to Solas, the same thing that created the Breach put this thing in my hand, so it stands to reason one can affect the other and did.
The Chancellor used the lull in the conversation to state his opinion loudly: "You have no authority with which to make these decisions!"
Max watched as Cassandra twitched, her right hand gripping the… book? She held it tightly to her chest before setting it down on the table with a thud.
"This is all the authority we need. Most Holy's idea for ending the fighting between the Mages and the Templars. And now we shall use it to act. From this moment on, I declare the Inquisition reborn!" she said, though Max could hear a faint trembling in her voice.
He watched with amusement as Cassandra advanced on a stunned Chancellor, her words growing more confident with each step she took: "We will close the Breach. We will find those responsible. We will restore order. And we will do this with or without you."
Rodrick retreated with every step the Seeker took, and at the end of her tirade, fled the room as fast as he could.
Oh, that looked satisfying. It probably felt satisfying too. I believe this duel goes to the Seeker, Max thought with mirth, though I never want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Cassandra huffed and her shoulders dropped. Suddenly she looked tired and Leliana, perhaps sensing the same, continued: "This was Most Holy's idea, resurrect the Inquisition of Old and find those willing to stand against the chaos and the darkness."
"But we aren't ready yet," Cassandra said suddenly jumping back into the conversation, "we need more of everything, troops, supplies, information, allies, a leader… and now we've lost Chantry support as well," she added dejectedly.
"You've got that right, not exactly a stellar start, though that's no one's fault really. Commander… well damn, I don't know his name, I really should ask. Regardless, the Commander chose that moment to chime in: "Whatever men you can bring me I will train to the best of my ability Lady Seeker."
"Thank you, Commander Cullen," Cassandra answered, her gratitude audible. "And I will continue studying the Mark whenever possible," added Solas, his tone solemn. Cassandra nodded her acceptance before turning back to Max. He asked, "the Inquisition of Old?"
It was Leliana who answered his question, "It dates back to a time before the Chantry, a time of strife and misery. The original Inquisition was founded by people seeking to establish order in a chaotic world."
"After," added Cassandra, "they disbanded when their time was past and transformed into the Templar Order. Sadly the Templars of today no longer embody the ideals upon which their order was founded. Now we need those willing, and capable, united under a common banner, thus the Inquisition is resurrected."
"But it would be apart from the Chantry?" Max asked thoughtfully.
"Yes," replied Leliana, drawing Max's gaze, "The Chantry will need time to find a new Divine. And once one is chosen will follow her direction, whether or not that direction is the correct one."
"And time," added Cassandra, "Is not something we have in great quantity. We must act, even if alone."
"You would turn this into a holy war?" came Solas' unexpected question.
"We are already at war." replied the Seeker matter-of-factly, "Now whether or not that war is holy will depend on what we discover."
"And if I refuse?" said Max, drawing the attention of all present, and a disapproving glare from Cassandra. Not that I would, Maker's breath I just want to be certain of your intentions.
"You are, of course, free to leave at any moment of your choosing," said Leliana "but you should know that, while many people here in Haven have decided you are Chosen, many others still believe you guilty."
"The Inquisition can only protect you if you remain with us," intoned Cassandra "It will not be easy but I have faith we will prevail."
Max stared into the Seeker's eyes for several seconds but found no weakness in her conviction. They're still my best option, even just to rid myself of this Maker damned mark. Plus who else will make sure they treat Irina right, not that she couldn't walk out of here if she wanted.
"Perhaps we should give him time to think it over after all this is a rather impactful decision," Solas said coming, unnecessarily, to his rescue.
"Thank you Solas, but I've made my decision," Maxwell said, cracking a grin "well this is certainly not what I thought I'd be doing when I woke up this morning but so be it, it sounds like fun."
"Together we'll put an end to this," answered Cassandra solemnly.
"I only have one more question Seeker: where's Irina?"
-DoT-
Irina was rather bored. If not for the company of the Dwarf, as she learned he preferred to Dwemer, she would not have been quite as docile.
She had woken up, mere hours after the fight with the Pride demon, in a medic tent surrounded by other wounded. She had quickly learned that Max had managed to stabilize the Breach not close it, though any result was better than what it had been before.
After she had woken she was visited by Cassandra, the curly-haired blond man, who was called Commander Cullen, and several guards. She had been told that a great deal of suspicion still rested on her and that she would be put in a cell for the foreseeable future, by force if necessary, though Cassandra had looked distinctly uncomfortable at the last part.
She had opted to walk into her cell willingly not wanting to fight one of the few people she knew in this strange place. It had helped that within an hour of her incarceration Varric had come to visit and stayed for several hours regaling her with tales of his adventures and had done the same every day since.
The Dwarf was quite funny, full of life and stories and quite patient too, answering all her questions or at the very least those he could, without judging her. It was he that had told her that Maxwell had survived his attempt to close the Breach and that, despite his unconscious state, he was expected to wake up soon, having made a full recovery.
They had discussed many things, from dwarves to geography to religion to the place that Varric hailed from to his adventures and misadventures, each story sparking more questions about the place she now found herself in, which could not possibly be Skyrim or perhaps even Tamriel.
Of course, he had asked questions of his own, though she had answered very few. He was not the only one with questions naturally and Commander Cullen had visited her once each day to ask his questions. Irina had refused to answer all of them.
In her spare time, she had chosen to meditate on her new abilities, or rather her increased abilities. Once she had settled in her cell, Irina had discovered that her senses had heightened further and so had her physical abilities. She required less sleep and felt energized upon waking even after very few hours of sleep.
Irina had also reflected on her magical abilities. During her meditation, she had felt for her Magicka and found her stores greatly increased and… denser somehow. Her Dragonsoul had felt more present, still no more than instincts but those instincts were much stronger, much sharper than they had ever been.
The worst was her instinct to dominate. It railed and frayed at the cage she had put herself in, refusing to lie still and Irina had to keep a tight leash on it.
All in all, it had been a productive three days, but her patience was now at an end.
"...arky. Sparky! Are you even listening to me?" Varric's voice startled Irina out of her reverie.
"Apologies Varric, I was not," she answered a hint of colour gracing her cheeks.
"No worries Sparky I was just telling you about my brother, but it can wait. Are you alright, you looked pretty lost?" he inquired gently.
"I am well Varric, or as well as one can be stuck in this dreary cell," Irina replied, flashing him a quick grin.
"Yes well my company should more than makeup for the accommodations," he shot back quickly along with his own grin, "speaking of siblings, did you have any Sparky?"
Whatever mirth had been present in Irina disappeared instantly. Thinking of her family, or lack thereof, drew her mind to her children but she quashed the thought thoroughly and ruthlessly. She took several seconds considering his question but found herself trusting the Dwarf somewhat and saw no harm in telling him a piece of her history.
"I do not have siblings Varric, at least not blood siblings," she told him. Seeing the expectant look on his face she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to open up somewhat.
"I know next to nothing of my birth parents only that they had the good, or bad, sense to leave me at an orphanage in the Imperial City before my first name day. The Matron at the time was as close to a real mother as I've ever known. I grew up with a dozen other children, some I loved and others I hated," Irina continued.
"I was a… difficult child but Matron Verna was very patient with me. I used to run off to the Arena District to watch the pit fights all the time, but she never yelled at me just gave me a disappointed look, one that I dreaded. She died in one of the plagues that swept The Waterfront from time to time," she barely felt Varric's stare, too lost in her memories to care.
"After she died her niece took over as Matron. She was a greedy little thing, lined her pockets with all the donations that were supposed to keep the orphanage running. She fed us scraps, barely enough to survive. I learned a lot of things thanks to her, how to steal and lie and cheat and hide.
By the time I was twelve winters the money had run out, the orphanage was shut down and we were scattered to the four corners of the Empire. They sent me, and Frost to Skyrim, the orphanage in Riften," a scowl marred her face as she glared at the wall as though her stare could kill Grelod the Kind all over again.
"Was Frost one your siblings then?" the Dwarf inquired.
Regaining control of her emotions Irina let loose the breath she had been unknowingly holding, "yes, he and Vyrra. She was about as old as I was but he was younger…"
Just as she was about to elaborate she heard heavy footsteps approaching from the corridor. A few seconds later Commander Cullen walked into the prison flanked by two guards.
As they made their way closer, Varric turned on the stool he was seated upon, "Ah Commander what brings you down here so soon? If you recall the deal was that so long as I was here neither you nor your soldiers would bother us," the Dwarf said as a greeting.
I am glad Varric enjoys these little sessions as much as I have come to.
The Commander stayed silent for a few seconds, his gaze fixed firmly on Irina before he nodded to the two soldiers.
"The Herald has asked for her release," he said as the soldiers opened her cell and unshackled her. She turned to Varric and voiced her confusion, "The Herald? Who's the Herald? The Herald of what?"
Commander Cullen answered in his stead, "Maxwell Trevelyan is the Herald of Andraste to the people of Haven if no one else."
"Andraste is that saint who died for your Maker is she not?" she asked Varric who chuckled, presumably at her oversimplification of Andrastian Dogma.
"Ah right, sorry I forgot to mention," said Varric, "because of his actions, some people believe Handy was sent by Andraste to save them from the Breach."
The guard to her right, who had just finished unshackling her, found no humour in her words. He shoved her from her cell with a scowl on his face.
The unexpected shove and stumble loosened Irina's mental grip on her inner dragon. She did an about-face and took one menacing step towards the soldier. Her pupils turned to slits and her lavender eyes glowed eerily before she managed to win back control. She sighed deeply, annoyed at both the soldier and herself. She turned back to Varric and Cullen, both standing stock still, staring at her.
"Max has managed to make you see sense then?" she queried the Commander.
"Well, he argued that, unlike himself whose survival hinged on whether or not we could stop the Breach, you could have left at any time but chose to help. That along with our recent 'emancipation' from the Chantry was enough to convince Lady Cassandra to free you," answered Cullen.
"You will be taken to the leaders of the Inquisition for a… let's call it an evaluation. After which you will either be welcome to stay here or asked to leave."
Irina raised an eyebrow at the man curious as to how they planned to enforce the second outcome should it come to pass.
"That is all I am allowed to tell you. Now if you could follow me I will take you to the Herald," he added, having clearly misinterpreted her expression as a question.
Irina turned to Varric, who shrugged then nodded. Noting his assent, she turned and followed after Cullen, Varric keeping stride with her with practiced ease, the soldiers following close behind.
From the jail, the group followed much the same route as Irina had earlier, though once up the stairs they turned left towards the end of the building she had yet to see. At the end of the hall stood a door flanked by soldiers. The Commander opened it, gave the soldiers a pointed look then stepped through.
"I'll see you later Sparky," said Varric. She spun in a circle, confusion evident on her features. He smiled at her and nodded. "Don't worry you'll be fine," his smile turned into a smirk and he added "Besides they wouldn't kill in here anyway. Sacred ground and all that."
He turned and walked towards the other end of the building not once looking back. Feeling better, though still slightly apprehensive - she'd have to get back at the Dwarf far that last comment - Irina turned and walked through the door head held high and back straight. Whoever these leaders were she would not be intimidated.
-DoT-
Max stood in silence in what he dubbed the 'War Room' of the newly reborn Inquisition. Cassandra had convinced him to stay while Commander Cullen fetched Irina from her cell - boy was that still a point of contention between him and the Seeker - and to get to know the last member of this council. The dark-skinned woman was Lady Ambassador Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, he'd been right, former ambassador from Antiva to Orlais and friend of Leliana, who had recruited her to the Inquisition.
After a brief introduction, Maxwell had promised to have a full discussion with the Ambassador at another time and had then attempted to talk to Cassandra who had entirely ignored him. Lelianna and Lady Montilyet had moved off together and were having a conversation in hushed tones.
Max had thus resorted to mimicking Solas who was brooding in the far corner of the room. The elf had been allowed to stay to provide an expert opinion on the magic surrounding the Breach and to attempt to analyze Irina's unique brand.
Fortunately, he did not have to wait long and soon enough the Commander walked back into the room followed by Irina and two guards who took the place of the Templars that had left. Cullen moved around the table and joined Leliana and the Ambassador on the right side of the table. Cassandra stood dead center opposite Irina and Solas remained in the corner, perhaps content to listen for now.
Max approached Irina giving her a once over, checking for injuries and making sure she was not shackled. Satisfied he quickly drew her into a hug for a few seconds, she seems okay and now all we have to do is make sure the Inquisition doesn't piss her off enough to leave and we'll be golden.
As they ended the brief hug their eyes met for an instant and Max tried to convey his support, wordlessly, as much as possible. The barest hint of a smile accompanied by a slight nod assured him he had been understood.
Cassandra cleared her throat, breaking the silence, "Now that we are all here let us begin. For the sake of all present, I will begin with simple questions. Anyone is welcome to ask their own as well and we expect you to answer them fully and truthfully," intoned the Seeker, her voice grave and her face impassive.
"I reserve the right to not answer questions," chimed in Irina looking equally grave.
Cassandra's eyes flashed with indignation, "We are aware of the help you provided in a time of crisis but this council will have answers and you are in no position to refuse."
Max saw Irina tense, hands clenching at her sides and brow furrowing. I have to ease this situation quickly, Max thought as he put a hand on Irina's arm and glared at the Nevarran.
"Enough Seeker, Irina will do her utmost to answer your questions so ask them but if she chooses not to unless you deem it vital do not press her."
For a second Cassandra looked as though she wanted to argue but did not, "Very well Herald," she said with a slight bow of her head.
Max barely managed to suppress a groan, I have to deal with that before long, I can't have her believing I'm some sort of messiah. The Nevarran turned her focus on Irina and gestured for the woman to step up to the table.
"Your name is Irina Bloodcrown correct?" was the first question.
"You know this," came the slightly sarcastic answer.
Sighing in frustration, Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose, "Lady Montilyet is making a record of this… conversation for our records."
"Very well," acquiesced Irina.
"Your name is Irina Bloodcrown?"
"Yes, that is my most common name."
"Explain."
"I am… was known by many titles."
Cassandra arched an eyebrow and gave Irina a pointed look.
"Suffice it to say that I acquired a reputation over the decades and with it came titles," answered Irina.
"Forgive me for perhaps sounding ignorant but you said 'decades' and to my eye, you do not look more than perhaps thirty winters," interrupted the Ambassador.
"I have a condition," said Irina tersely, to which the Antivan nodded and remained silent.
"Moving on. Where are you from?" Cassandra cut back in.
"Very far away."
"Explain."
"I believe I arrived here from another world or plane of existence."
Deafening silence met her declaration and stretched on for several seconds.
This time it was Max's turn to butt in, "Irina are you sure?"
"I cannot be certain but there are signs that point to this. For one the Magic here is strange… so strange that I must be far indeed from the influence of Julianos. Another sign is the presence of Dwem… Dwarfs. The strange creatures you call elves look nothing like the ones I know. As far as I can tell you have no vampires and I refuse to believe they could be collectively smart and disciplined enough to remain hidden. Need I go on?"
As she finished speaking, Max noticed Solas approach the table between Cassandra and the semi-circle formed by Cullen, Leliana and Josephine.
"What precisely about Magic is foreign to you?" asked the elf.
Irina held her arm out, palm up and open. After a few seconds, an ethereal purple dagger appeared in her hand. She threw it up and caught it deftly as she spoke.
"My connection to my Magic has been... muted somewhat making drawing more difficult and I cannot seem to connect to Oblivion though I can still conjure weapons."
Max watched as the dagger made one final rotation before fading into nothingness. In its place sprung a small flame dancing on Irina's palm.
"However, I can simply ignore the difficulties of casting through force of will, though it takes some effort to do so."
For a moment Solas looked pensive before schooling his features as he turned to the others, "I believe she does not draw from the Fade when utilizing magic, nor does she manipulate reality in the same way our mages do" the elf said, his face stony.
"You mean to say she is immune to Templars then," came Commander Cullen's response, his voice a mix of awe and trepidation.
"I do not believe she is wholly immune to Templars. Let me rephrase my earlier statement. Ms. Bloodcrown does not seem to have a natural connection to the Fade, not like those born as mages here. Instead, I believe she formed an artificial one, accidentally, when she first drew upon her magic after arriving here. But, as her magic is mostly innate all she uses the connection for is to make reality slightly more amenable to modification and could potentially draw some pure magic from the Fade if the need arose," Solas slowly explained to all present, "this, in turn, makes her susceptible to Templars though I doubt she could be entirely prevented from using magic. This is quite fascinating, in essence, a Templar attempting to purge her magic would find themselves in a contest of will. What an interesting experiment that would be…
Max watched Solas slowly realize that he had rambled on more than was proper. The elf seemed to blush slightly before loudly clearing his throat.
"In any case, the way her magic functions seems to support the theory that she is indeed not of our world."
His statement seemed to draw everyone present out of a trance. A flustered Cassandra turned to Solas and Commander Cullen and engaged them in agitated whispers.
Max turned to Irina, feeling not for the first time a little intimidated by his new friend.
"Well damn Irina you might have it worse than me, Solas looked positively ecstatic at the idea of performing tests on you," he shot, a grin on his face.
She returned his grin, though he thought hers had a touch of nervousness to it.
"It seems we are once again in the same boat. Hopefully this time neither of us will wake up in jail… again."
Max's smile fell at her words, "Are you alright? We were in such a rush to get to the Breach you probably didn't have any time to process what happened to you…"
She seemed to hesitate for a second, "I am… fine Maxwell, thank you. It has not been easy but I am accustomed to making the best of difficult situations and dealing with everything else later."
Max opened his mouth to prod her further when Cassandra pre-empted him.
"If you are both finished, I would like to resume this… interrogation."
Max saw Irina nod her assent to the Seeker. Satisfied for now he turned, standing beside Irina, and faced Cassandra and the others.
"Now that we have cleared most of our magic-related questions, let us move on. Since evidence seems to support your claim that you are not of this world, could you tell us how you came to be here?"
"I am not certain to be truthful. My memories of my last moments on Tamriel are vague."
Irina grew silent and Max turned to look at her. She had a pained look on her face as though she was wrestling with a dilemma. It lasted only for a moment before her face turned expressionless.
"What I am about to tell you will no doubt shock you but I want to assure you I mean you no harm," she stated.
"I for one trust you, Irina. You saved my life," Max broke in, feeling curious.
" We will reserve judgment until you are finished, but I can promise no more," added the Seeker.
Max watched Irina take a deep breath before she began, "In my world, the Gods are not abstract like your Maker is; they are as real as you or me, and I have met some of them."
Shock punch Maxwell in the gut, their gods are real? How can that be? As he looked around he saw identical expressions of disbelief on nearly everyone, the only exception being Solas.
"But mostly," Irina continued, "I have interacted with evil gods, beings who love to meddle in the affairs of mortals. I don't know whether anything similar exists here or not but they are a fact of life for us. Long ago one of those beings raped a woman and she became something else… not truly dead but alive no longer. She, and those like her, were a new form of undead. Undead that could live forever and feed on the blood of mortals, they craved and needed it. What was worse was that they could transmit their affliction to others, making their victims like them, cursed."
Max was transfixed by her story, hanging from her every word and unable to look away. To think monsters such as this existed chilled the blood.
"Though it was a curse, it granted many advantages, luring the power-hungry and the vilest of individuals to give themselves and sometimes their families as well over to the evil god to gain this power. Thankfully it also had its drawbacks. Those afflicted could no longer stand the light of the Sun and were vulnerable to fire tough as they were."
As she paused in her explanation, Max finally found his voice, "You mentioned these bloodsuckers? before while we were on the riverbed. You said one of them scratched you…" he broke off, his voice lost once more.
Irina shot him a pleading look, "I am nearly done, Maxwell." He answered with a nod and she resumed her story.
"These Vampires as we call them mostly live on the fringes, preying on the unsuspecting. They assemble in covens, broods and clans lead the oldest and most powerful among them. Moreover, many different strains of vampirism have appeared over the millennia each with its own uniqueness. But chief among them was the pure-blooded vampires. I had survived one in my time as an adventurer and in my hubris, I underestimated a weaker one. And I turned."
There was a moment of deafening silence as her revelation impacted everyone differently. Max for one was not as surprised as he could have been, having drawn the different clues together to this conclusion a few seconds earlier, this is why she was so emotional back then, she had probably just realized and there was that bit about her kids too.
Cassandra's hand had gone for a sword that was not there and her frustration and anger were evident on her face. Cullen looked as though he had swallowed something sour. Sister Leliana seemed ready to jump over the table and defend her friends and allies from the monster in their midst. Josephine had taken a step back in fear. The only one that had shown little outward reaction was Solas.
"You mean to say you are one of those monsters you have just described!" Cassandra howled.
"Yes," she answered simply, "I was hunting a group of them after I killed their leader in the province. I tracked them to a cave and made my way through the lower ranks one by one until only the master was left. I killed him but he scratched me and three days later I turned. I nearly lost my mind when it happened and I fled as far as I could from my home and all the people I knew. None but one found me but it was too late. What little of my mind was left was stubbornly focused on refusing blood at all costs."
Max finally worked up the courage to intervene, "And did it work?"
"I think it did because the next thing I remember is waking up here," she replied, her eyes downcast, her voice barely more than a whisper
Max rounded on the others, his glare piercing each in turn, "There you have it, she had the strength of will to resist the urge for Maker knows how long considering these - she - is immortal. Now will you all quit looking so Maker-damned hostile?" he added, his voice harsh and loud.
It seemed to somewhat reassure the others, though Leliana and Cassandra still looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"I am sorry," began Irina, "but I was unsure of many things myself and did not know how to broach this subject, especially with people I knew so little about. I am sure you can appreciate how difficult my position is. And yet I chose to reveal to you one of my most shameful truths. If you can no longer abide by my being here, in that case, I will take my leave and attempt to return from whence I came" she added, conviction adorning her features.
Cassandra seemed to bristle at the tone Irina had taken. Well, this might get out of hand if the Seeker can't control herself. "Very well, we will trust you to remain with us but, for our peace of mind you will be accompanied by guards at all times."
She raised a hand in a placating gesture and threw Max a look. "Before you say anything Herald, this is a temporary measure until we are certain our trust has not been misplaced if placed in Irina. We will not reveal her… condition to any outside this room under any circumstances. Is this agreed?"
A chorus of affirmations rose from the people present in the room.
"Not that all this information isn't fascinating and we will revisit it later, but we have other matters to address," Leliana chimed in.
"Yes we do" agreed Cassandra, "Solas please leave us."
The elf bowed his head in understanding and promptly left the room, throwing one last glance at both Max and Irina. Well, I think we can expect another round of interrogation later from our resident apostate.
"Irina you as well" added the Seeker.
"Now hang on a second Seeker! Irina has done nothing but cooperate. An outside opinion could be helpful! Don't just dismiss her" Max said vehemently.
"While I concede an uninformed opinion can be useful, she remains an outsider with little to no knowledge of our world and its inner workings. She is not needed for this council."
The Nevarran looked ready to fight him tooth and nail on this.
"It's alright Maxwell I'll go. We'll see each other later" Irina told him in a low voice. She gave a general nod in the direction of the table, spun on her heel and left.
"You two," Cassandra ordered the Templars at the door, " from now on you are assigned to her. Everywhere she goes you go. You will sleep in shifts whenever she decides to sleep. You eat when she eats. If she chooses to… feed you will observe the process and report back to either me, Commander Cullen or Sister Leliana. If she attempts to do so on an unwilling person one of you is to stall her while the other reports in immediately. Use your judgement for everything else. Dismissed."
Both Templars saluted and hurried after their quarry. Max watched her leave, barely paying any attention to Lady Josephine and her explanation about the goings-on in the Hinterlands and the Chantry member Mother Giselle.
She'll be fine, he told himself hopefully.
-DoT-
Irina left the church, two Templars barely two steps behind her, but never in front or beside her. It seemed she was free to wander for now. After more than an hour in the small, bustling community that was Haven, as she had learned from Varric, and finding a small watering hole, the aforementioned dwarf telling stories around a campfire and a few brave merchants Irina had had enough and left the relative safety of its walls.
I can feel the hunger coming on. I have to find live game. She made her way by a small training field where she spotted Cullen barking orders to his soldiers and Cassandra viciously hacking at a training dummy at the far end. Once beyond the camp and far enough from the walls of Haven she turned and addressed the soldiers following her.
"If I may, what are your names?" she asked cautiously.
They looked at each other before the one to the right, slightly shorter than the other, stepped forward, "I am Amara, former Knight-Divine, now under Commander Cullen," she practically shouted, stiffly.
The other moved beside the woman, "I'm Caleb… I uh, used to be a Knight-Corporal, you know before the world ended. The Knight-Divine and I are the only ones to survive. The others either died from the explosion or in the fight up to the crater. Good job with that by the way, you were kind of awe-inspiring and terrifying" he intoned with a chuckle.
Irina looked from one Templar to the other but aside from their height, there was very little difference between the two.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, both of you. Now I am about to hunt down some food and I don't want you to worry I'm not running away, but you won't be able to keep up. I'd advise you to stay here and I will return shortly" she warned quietly.
The Knight-Divine replied, "We have orders to keep you close, at all times."
Well so be it. If they want to run after me they can run after me. With a nod, Irina spun on her heel, closed her eyes and dove into her senses. She could feel the world around her so sharply it almost hurt. The feel of the mountain wind on her skin - so much like home -, the smell of animal droppings, the sound of hoofs crunching in the snow and the thunderous heartbeats of her escorts. Having found her quarry she took off at a brisk pace. She could hear the startled sounds of the Templars and the clanging of their armour as they tried to catch up.
Relishing the feeling of her muscles coiling and uncoiling, Irina picked up the pace until she was sprinting. She left the Templars far behind as she charged after the deer she had found. When she got within a few paces the deer took off as fast as it could, the chase is on!
It ran between trees narrowly avoiding them but Irina kept up and within a dozen seconds, had caught the deer and wrestled it to the ground. Soon its neck was snapped and Irina had sunk her fangs deep in it.
I'm not as hungry as I thought. Better get this over with before Caleb and Amara show up. Her thirst now sated, Irina slung the deer on her shoulders and started retracing her steps. Within a few minutes, she found the Templars, both running and both out of breath.
Caleb is the first to catch his breath, "Well you weren't kidding, you're pretty fast!" he exclaimed. He's barely finished his sentence before Amara, finally having caught her breath, pulls her swords and places the tip on Irina's throat.
"You were told that we had to keep you within eyesight at all times!" the Knight-Divine raged, the sword swaying slightly in her trembling hand.
She's worried, she's lost so much in so little time. Maybe she thinks if she fails she'll have nothing left. But by the Nine, I didn't want to share my first conscious feeding with anyone.
"Look," Irina started, "I know you have a job to do and except for select moments like this one - for which I'll give ample warning - I promise to do my best not to interfere with you, either of you," she adds, her gaze flickering between both Templars.
A few seconds stretched out for what seemed like a small eternity for Irina, eventually, Amara put her sword away and the wary Dragonborn released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Killing my guard would make a poor showing, especially so quickly.
"Well if we're done here I'd like to take this venison back so that it can be put to good use," Irina declared, taking off at a brisk pace. Within a second she could hear the Templars walking behind her.
Having put the small altercation out of her mind, Irina spent the next few hours getting to know Haven and its inhabitants. From the various merchants and craftsmen, which included an alchemist - or potion maker as he was called in this world - who was pleasantly surprised to have a customer who was knowledgeable in the craft put completely ignorant of local plants. He managed to convince Irina to return once a day for an hour when she could. She had a brief conversation with Solas though despite his earlier excitement he seemed reluctant to discuss anything with Irina's guards present. After parting ways with the aloof elf Irina found herself in the presence of Varric and the easy-going dwarf had regaled her with a few stories.
Irina had eventually run into Leliana who had asked her to accompany her back to her tent.
"What's this about?" she asked the redheaded, slightly concerned.
Before she answered her question, Lelinana dismissed the Templars, ordering them to wait outside the tent. She then walked to the back of the tent and quickly returned bearing a supple leather satchel, one that looked well worn and one that Irina recognized immediately.
"Where did you find this?" Irina questioned hotly. I thought this lost forever when I came to this world. She hugged the bag to her chest, revelling in the feeling of a piece of her home.
"We found on the ground next to you and the Herald. Our mages can't make heads or tails of the magic on it," she admitted quietly.
"Nor would you be able to, it is after all experimental magic that I helped an acquaintance of mine created. I suspect few people on Nirn could willfully reproduce this singular piece of enchantment."
"So it is in fact enchantment? Our mages were unsure, they operate with the certainty that enchantments need a lyrium rune to hold and since this satchel does not have one they were stumped."
"Yes, it is, according to the rules of the magic of my world, an enchantment, several in fact."
Irina eyed Leliana and sighed. I don't think she'll let me go until I give something however small.
"When I was twenty-two winters I joined a group of mages in their place of study. There I met a man named Sergius Turranius and of all my teachers he was the most gifted in enchanting. Throughout my… adventures I learned more about enchanting and I would regularly return to Sergius so we could experiment with what I learned. This satchel is the culmination of all that research," Irina explained to the attentive redhead.
"As I'm sure your mages discovered they could not open it, yes?"
"Yes you are correct," Leliana answered, her brows furrowed, "and on any third try it would throw out either fire, ice or lightning elemental magic. We could never predict which…"
"It was designed that way to dissuade people from going through my things without my permission," Irina retorted with a pointed look.
"In any case, it has several enchantments on it both ancient and groundbreaking. Or at least they were groundbreaking at the time... " she added trailing off.
"What's in it?" Leliana questioned gaze firm and unwavering.
"An assortment of things" came the reply, Irina's gaze equally hard.
"Very well we'll table this conversation for the time being. We are returning it to you in good faith, whatever it contains will not be used to harm the Inquisition or the inhabitants of Haven" her tone was certain and brokered no arguments. Irina acquiesced with a nod, turned on her heel and left the tent.
Her guards resumed shadowing her but she barely noticed. This a piece of the life I lost. If it contains what it used to, well I would be very glad. I wonder if Sergius was ever able to devise a method to easily replicate the months of work that went into enchanting this fifth version of the enchantment scheme. If he did they could have become rather popular, in time.
So much work had gone into this satchel. The firm rule was that only two enchantments at most could be applied to a single item, but Sergius had come up with a method of enchantment that meant individual components of an item could each receive two enchantments.
They had then used the most magical components they could get their hands on to craft the satchel piece by piece, enchanting as they went. They had discovered early on that treating each component with alchemy ingredients for a specific effect they were attempting to created helped and that if they also treated everything with her blood - very magical considering the frankly absurd (compared to regular people) amount of Magicka she had at her disposal - guaranteed a long-lasting effect and having her blood on everything helped the satchel maintain harmony between the components.
This satchel had an interior lining made with daedric leather, made from daedroth hide, enchanted to contain more than its outward appearance would suggest and to always remain the same weight no matter what was in it.
This was one of the parts that Irina could never understand, Sergius had rambled about dimensional mechanics and how when one understood how the different layers, or planes, of reality, functioned in relation to one another and how they interacted in the 'space' they occupied, it was rather easy.
All Irina knew was that Sergius had admitted that earlier schemes had simply opened to an unclaimed plane of Oblivion but that Sergius had eventually moved away from this method as it 'posed too great a risk' according to him. The space was by no means without limits but still vaster than any regular bag.
Every stitch was made with Wisp Wrappings treated with her blood and sewn with a needle made of Dragonbone, to ensure the satchel was as conductive to Magicka as possible.
The outside lining, also made with daedric leather, was treated with vampire dust from Harkon's remains, bound with her blood, of course, to make it as inconspicuous as possible and then enchanted with the most powerful resist magic enchantment Irina could cast.
The other enchantment was a modified clairvoyance spell adapted to be both an enchantment and to tell the user what the satchel contained.
The flap made of the same leather was enchanted to increase the satchel's healing rate, a clever application of a very useful enchantment. Sergius had somehow tricked the enchantment into thinking it had to repair not the user but the bag itself meaning that depending on the damage and the available Magicka, the satchel could repair itself given enough time.
The other enchantment on the flap was a Magicka regen one. Originally it would draw from the overabundant Magicka available on Nirn, but Sergius had once again tinkered with it to make it draw most of the Magicka it needed directly from Irina herself. He had explained that using Irina as an intermediary was better since most of the components had been steeped in her blood, that it was safer this way.
Even now she could feel it took what it needed from her, considering it had been in a place without Magicka for a while and had its defences tested to boot.
The strap had a rather simple enchantment that increased carry weight as well as one that muffled all sounds coming from the satchel.
Finally, the buckle that held the satchel closed. Perhaps the true Mastercraft of the entire project, it had an odd appearance with a small spike, the size of a child's finger, and no actual lock in sight. Its simplest enchantment was a Chaos Damage one that every third attempt to open the satchel incorrectly would discharge.
The more complex one was a minuscule and perpetual portal between the spike and a Dwemer Cube. The cube was of Sorine Jurand's design based on the Dwemer Lockbox that once contained the Oghma Infinium.
With her help, they had created a cube that only responded to Irina's blood and placed it within the satchel. Once linked by the unique enchantment the satchel would only open if provided with a small sample of her blood.
Glad to have found a piece of her past, Irina made her way to the cabin Max lived. As she opened the door she found herself standing nose to nose with her friend.
A huge smile split his face, "Irina! I was just about to go look for you. Come in, come in."
She gave him a small smile and stepped into the cabin. As she passed him she heard him tell the two Templars to remain outside.
"But, Herald…" the Knight-Divine began.
"I'm no danger soldier. You will stay outside" Max cut her off, before promptly shutting the door.
Irina walked to the small table and sat at one of the chairs, still clutching the satchel to her chest.
"What's that?" Max asked as he took the seat opposite her.
I should tell him… if I've made a single friend here it's him... or Varric.
"It's a keepsake," she started, "and one of my proudest achievements. It's a bag myself and a few acquaintances of mine created. It's magical. It also contains some things that are precious to me."
"Oh… well I won't pry," he answered with a kind smile.
"You said you were looking for me?"
"Yes. I'm heading to the Hinterlands, just east of here, and I'd like you to come with me."
"You're going there alone?"
"Ah no. It's Inquisition business but it'd still like you to come with."
Irina smiled at him and nodded, "Sure I will accompany you. It's time I got to know this world."
"Good I was hoping you would say that!" He gave her a radiant smile.
"When do we leave?"
A/N:
Let me start by saying Happy Holidays to all! Whatever that holiday may be.
Second, I want to thank everyone who posted a review(all 11 of them).
Third, I am going to explain a few of the things I've written and the things they entail, and then give a quick outline of the story (no spoilers though) so people have a general idea.
I know it took a while for this second chapter to be published and I confess to being a slow writer. I will make a concerted effort to produce future chapters faster though I can't guarantee anything.
I was asked to include more classical elements of Elder Scrolls RPGs and I realize this chapter doesn't really scratch that itch and I won't promise the next ones will but I can say more things from the games will be shown in time.
I enjoy tweaking stuff from the games to make them more interesting or for them to have slightly different effects. All I can say is to expect more things like Irina's satchel to pop up from time to time(though not too often).
Finally, I do have a plan for the story but I'll have to slog through the main questline of DA:I first so I would like to ask you all to be patient, the original stuff will be here eventually. I'm going to do my best to include all companions in the game as well as possible but like everything else, it will take time.
Thank you all for reading my story. Leave reviews if you like both good and bad are appreciated, so long as they are constructive of course.
Until next time,
TheWouldBeKing