(Posting early as I really should have had this done Monday. But there have been plenty of distractions. I'll take the notice down in a couple of days.

Also, for those of you who have been following, the second half of Facet XI has already been altered, if you want to read it. Otherwise, enjoy!)

THE NIGHTMARE - FACET XII

"You know, I wouldn't mind living in a place like this… If it weren't for the cage bars overhead."

Maxwell looked down over the village, they were walking through. Dusk had fallen over the horizon, and the windows were full of lamp light. There was a hidden crystalline structure in the cement of the buildings, one that caught the light and seemed to make the buildings twinkle like stars. It made the whole city look like a pool of glittering starlight.

"Won't deny it's pretty, but you should take a closer look Max," Schneider scowled. People were covering their blinds as they walked up the staircase. From the few buildings they were able to see inside, people were huddled around their hearths and beds. They didn't have the look of people content with their lives. "They're afraid."

Maxwell nods, they hadn't been stopped by anyone since they landed on the beach. Everyone was indoors, and there didn't seem to be a single warrior among them. In fact, Maxwell didn't even see any guards patrolling the hillside. They were fishermen, first and foremost. No fields for harvest, no orchards full of fruit, just a single harbour market. Yet, they had no boats. The people of Mecha Island were afraid, and had no idea what to do.

Maxwell then looks at the mountain side, thinking past its curvature. There was a forest trail at the apex of the village, one that seemed to lead to the castle. The cables converged around the bend, like a bundle of twigs, reminding him just where Karakuri Castle was...

He hoped he was doing the right thing. "I'll see you in the morning," Maxwell said to Schneider, "—Or at least, learn what you can while we're here. I'm not sure what's going to happen in the castle…"

"Be careful out there," Schneider nodded, petting Buzz's wrinkly hide. Buzz gave out a whinny groan and looked at Maxwell with sad eyes, as if apologizing. That griffon was still out there. And who knows if it was still hunting at this hour.

"Stay safe," Maxwell then marched off into the forest, following the trail they assumed would lead to Karakuri Castle…

O O O

…If he was being honest, Maxwell had expected to meet some form of resistance by now.

The dark trek on this forest trail had been unnaturally pleasant so far. No winding inclines, narrow passages, or steep ramps down a hill. No obstacles in his way from either, from tree or stone. There was even a rest bench or two, for hikers who needed to take a break.

…That peace made him paranoid.

He had been expecting to use lot more spycraft on his way up to the castle. Hide in the trees to avoid some guards. Or accidentally set off some trap that would impede him.

Maxwell hadn't expected a pleasant trek.

He didn't want a pleasant trek!

He wanted to be focused. He didn't want to think about…

"The Eluvian…" Salem finished Maxwell's thought.

"Dammit…!" Maxwell stopped walking and his shoulders slumped. The foci in his bag began to glow, but he could feel it in the back of his skull. Mineive, Mordred, Salem all staring at him, expectantly. This wasn't something he could just ignore anymore…

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mordred asked with a cautious tone. Being a part of himself, all of his familiars were privy to his own thoughts and feelings… And Maxwell had been suppressing it until now.

"No… But IF—!" Maxwell spat out the word, "…and I do mean if we survive this, how likely is it that we can have a way home?"

None of the demons answered. The threads of thought spoke for themselves…

Technically, Maxwell had always HAD a way home. He could have torn open a rift, entered the Fade directly, then use his familiars as guides towards Thedas. They traveled all that way before, it's how they devolved their personalities, during his moment of tranquillity. Instead being doppelgängers of himself, Mordred, Mineive, and Salem had all become almost separate entities, basing their personas off of the mages of the Inquisition.

The Inquisition… Maxwell sighed. Honestly hearing about it had been one of the most ridiculous things he ever been told. And Maxwell would not have believed it either, had he not seen the memories his familiars shared.

…The Hearld of Andraste, steps out of the Fade after disaster had consumed the world. Those who bared witness to her coming saw the woman behind them, bathed in holy light. The Bride of the Maker had paved her herald's way back to her husband's creation. And with her blessing, their chosen hero could heal the tears within the Veil. To close the sky, dam the emerald waters of the Fade, and stop calamity.

With Justinia's Right Hand they would bring peace. With Justinia's Left, they would bring order. And the bards would sing songs of all the heroes who stood beside them.

…How far along was Evelyn on her journey, anyway? Had she closed the Breach? Found out about Corypheus yet? She should have found Skyhold by now, if he was calculating his familiars' knowledge correctly. Maxwell may have had foresight regarding the Inquisition, but that didn't mean he didn't try to think of where Evelyn stood in the here and now.

But hadn't he given up on seeing Evelyn again? With the Eluvian, did he dare try to offset the natural course? Try to connect with his sister? With the Fade, he would have to stumble and feel for the locations in order to find Thedas. But with the Eluvian, he could have a direct connection to her world! HIS world!

Maxwell thought he had been content staying here, sailing with the Straw-Hats. He accepted this when he had sacrificed himself to save Alabasta! But still the questions burned inside him. What if he could make up for his past failures? The Mage Rebellion. The Circle of Magi. Evelyn… his family…!

He… Maxwell wasn't proud of what he said to Evelyn, the last time they talked. They were both at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and he had just finished a private meeting with his "important" relatives. Evelyn had tried to seek him out after. Calm him down, a reconnect when he had been barred from the family estate. Instead of her caring eldest brother, the famous Trevelyan temper had lashed out at her, accusing Evelyn of abandoning him and being like the rest of the Clan.

Max scoffed. The Trevelyans. They had always been greedy social climbers. Catering to the chantry and the nobility as the eighth most illustrious family in Ostwick. He didn't even care they could be considered the seventh, it was pathetic! Like their whole family weren't even Free Marchers!

His parents even had this whole grand plan for their family dynasty, with at least four children to carry on their legacy. The eldest son would be heir to the Trevelyan name, carrying on the noble bloodline. Eldest daughter would have married off to some noble of high or higher standing, (preferably with a high volume of mercantile exports.) The second son or third daughter would have been donated to the Chantry to become a Templar, while the second sister would have joined the clergy itself.

Imagine their shock and disgust when their eldest son had turned out to be a mage.

Not that that stopped them from trying to influence his life. Maxwell had always thought it had been great-aunt Lucille's influence that encouraged them to do that. It was how he was able to visit the Trevelyan's estate so many times. Most mages never get to leave their tower, except for official business. And even then, not even!

If he wasn't being paraded around like some exotic pet, he was being educated on the finer points of politics and trade. His parents still wanted their prodigal son to achieve some form greatness after all. And they had been VERY thorough in their research!

…In the end, Maxwell had a total of five siblings. Cedric, Paul, Gwyneth, Hilde, and Evelyn. He had bothered to keep in contact lettering his first four siblings. They tried to pretend he didn't exist half the time, even when he did visit. Evelyn had been the only exception. The youngest of noble Bann Trevelyan, who hadn't had any defined role set out for her… Though, that might have been because of her bastard status.

Most Free Marchers wouldn't have judged her for being born out of wedlock. Blood was blood, but of course politics and reputation muddled that up.

Apparently, good old dad had become a little loose with his morals after they had achieved the perfect little family, and had a tryst with a young milkmaid. He thought it had been all secret, hush-hush, and little more than a "fleeting dalliance," until the milkmaid showed up at the manor eight months pregnant.

Maxwell smiled, Evelyn was his sister, half or none! He still remembered the shy little girl he met at the Winter Solstice Ball, hiding in the corner with stuffed nug plush…

But it was memories like that that now made him conflicted.

He had found freedom, camaraderie, and even romance with the Straw-Hats. Maxwell was fairly certain he had now outstripped every single circle mage south of Tevinter, with the amount of arcane power he's amassed. And every island they visited had been more fantastical than the last one!

Though Maxwell was fairly certain nothing was going to top travelling to a sky island.

And his feeling for Robin… Well, Maxwell wasn't sure what to make of them. It was… nice, having someone his age to talk with. It was different knowing that someone had chosen to be a scholar, rather than being forced into it. There wasn't much else to do in a tower but study! Yet Robin had made it engaging! She was calm, poised, and made you want to pay attention to her every word! …But did that mean he wanted a future with her?

He loved the adventure! He loved the freedom! And Maxwell loved all of his nakama! …Would he really just abandon them just to check on the one family member he respected? Evelyn was out and about exploring Thedas! Battling demons, darkspawn, and mad cultists! While he was…! He was… Actually, he doing the same.

"Huh…"

…

…

…

Maxwell laughed to himself, "I guess we're not that different after all…"

"Are you okay?"

"GAH—! By the Maker!" If the sudden voice beside him didn't make him flinch, then the shadow of the giant beast beside him most certainly did! Maxwell quickly conjured a green flame in his hand to reveal who was there.

It was that boy again, the rider on the griffon! Now that Maxwell got a proper look at him, he appeared to be 14 years old, adjusting to puberty. His dark red hair was done up in a tribal top knot, with the rest falling over his ears, and really wore a leopard print loin cloth around his waist. A prominent scar was upon his bare chest, and contrasted with his brown tanned skin.

The other figure though, made Maxwell mind go very, very, still…

It was that griffon, again! Huge, feathered, and scaly! How in blazes did he miss that!?

It reared at the sudden firelight! It's massive grey wings spread wide as it gave a ghastly screech!

*QURAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWKKK!*

"Whoa! Whoa! It's okay!" Maxwell backed up while the boy rushed between him and the great beast! Its wings were absolutely massive! It's feathers exaggerating every focal point on it's body! The display was terrifying, even as griffon tossed from side to side!

"It's okay! He's not going to harm you!" The boy briefly looked back at Maxwell with the flame in his hand, "I think…"

He moved in closer, hands outstretched, as the boy calmed the massive creature. It seemed to respond to the young man's attempts, hopping around less and less as it's feathers gradually flattened. "That's it…" The boy then began to stroke the aerial's beak as the griffon calmed to the touch.

"Holy—!" Now Maxwell had to know, "How on the Maker's missing left testicle did you tame a griffon!? …And who are you anyway?" He was both amazed and awestruck at the sight. Griffons were said to have chosen their riders among the Grey Wardens, presented to them by their keepers. And the bonds they made were supposedly both personal and strong!

"Hehe," the boy giggled as he looked at the mage. "My name is Mobambi and this here is Peter." Mobambi stroked the griffon's feathers. "He's not mine, not really. It just took a while for me to earn his trust."

"…Okay." Maxwell nodded slowly, still acclimating to the fact there was a griffon in front of him. "Why did you attack us over the island? Are you one of Rachet's men?"

"Rachet?" Mobambi frowned. "Is that the name of the guy who has this turtle caged?"

He then saw Maxwell frown, realizing he was expecting Mobambi to answer the question. "No, I'm not working for anyone… In fact, I want to free the turtle! And with Peter's help, I think I can do it!" The beast cooed at Mobambi's faith in him. A guttural chirp that could have been a purr.

"As to why Peter attacked you… Well I think there was something about your mount that rubbed him the wrong way…" *QURAWK!*

…So the reason it attacked them was because of the old rivalry between cats and dogs…?

Maxwell shook his head, "Wait… That screech—! Were you on a trading vessel in the warehouse yesterday!?" Now that he thought about it, Maxwell remembered that sound vividly. He didn't get the chance to ask about it after the attack on Eight-Legged.

"Eh!?" Mobambi flinched, "How do you—!?" but then paused, looking again at the flame in Maxwell's hand. "Wait, are you the one they call, 'the Magister?'"

"…That is my epithet," Maxwell nods slowly, hoping he was talking about his bounty.

"Phew!" the boy sighed, relieved. "I think I owe you my thanks then. Those hooded creeps were about to do us in when someone mentioned you were nearby. That made most of them leave and we were able to get out without much resistance."

"The Children of Nightmare were on that ship?" Maxwell looked at the griffon—Peter! He swore that beast was reading his mind as he looked at him.

"No mind-reading, darling. Just perceptive," Mineive chimed inside his head. Griffon's were rather intelligent animals.

"Not helping!" Max mentally called back before switching to his normal voice. "Why would a bunch of demon worshippers require a griffon?"

Mobambi shook his head, "I don't know… All I knew is that I couldn't leave him in that cage any longer. I've tried multiple times to get my revenge on Battler, but I always end up running away..."

Maxwell tilted his head, "Battler?"

Mobambi flushed, "Ah, right. He's the guy these cult people hired to capture Peter and bring him to Creamy Mist. I've been a stowaway on his ship for the past year trying to kill him!"

Maxwell squinted at the thought, "…How—?"

"Let's just say his security isn't too great," Mobambi interrupted him. The griffon also gave him a deadpan expression at Battler's security measures.

"…Okay…" Maxwell nods, understanding he should just accept it for now.

"So what are you doing here, Magister?" Mobambi asks the mage.

"…I don't know if I should be discussing this with a kid—" *QURAWK!* "—No offence!"

"Me and Peter can help!" Mobambi offered, "You saw what Peter can do, and he's not even that injured!" Maxwell looked at the griffon, and though he saw a few broken feathers, Peter didn't seem any worse for wear.

Still, the mage shook his head, "Sorry kid, but I can't involve a—" *QQQUUURRRAAAWWWKKK!* "—WAH!"

Peter suddenly screeched and pounced on Maxwell. "PETER!?" The fade-fire in his hand went out, and he could feel the powerful talons wrap around his biceps. Peter wasn't done though! In one fluid motion, the griffon went from pouncing on Maxwell to flying up into the air, with Maxwell held in its talons.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Maxwell kicked the air, his lizard brain subconsciously trying to wiggle himself out! But the grip of the griffon's talons were ironclad. He looked like a stung up ham, hung by his very arms! "WHAT THE HELL!"

*QQUURRAAWWKKKKK!*

They were high up in the sky, about level with the mechanized tendrils. "LET ME DOWN YOU OVERSIZED CHICKEN! I SWEAR I'LL HAVE ROAST DUCK AFTER I'M FINISHED WITH YOUR FEATHERED HIDE!"

*QQQUUURRRAAAWWWKKK!* Peter looked down at him, his head feathers proofing at his displeasure.

Maxwell then felt one talon let go, and immediately clung to the other claw, "GAH! NOT UP HERE BIRD-BRAIN!"

Maxwell then felt himself be tossed up into the air and snatched. He could feel the vice-like grip around his collar, like some disobedient kitten! "OH CRAP I'M GONNA DIE!"

The mage then was brought to eye-level with Peter, the griffon staring at him intensely. Peter then brought his curved talon towards Maxwell's chest… but the creature didn't stab him. Instead, he was pointing at him, jabbing it's index in emphasis. "Huh?"

They flew low, and Peter then pointed at the ground. Maxwell followed the talon realizing he was pointing at Mobambi, who was chasing after them. "What are you—?"

Peter then straightened up, flapping its wings while being stationary in the air. The griffon then pointed over a Katakuri Castle.

Maxwell then blinked with a realization, his brain catching back up with his body, "Wait, you want me to take the boy with me?" He remembered many of the animals in this world were more intelligent then those of Thedas. And griffon's here were probably more so.

*QQQUUURRRAAAWWWKKK!*

Maxwell was taking that as a "yes."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MAKER DAMNED MIND! EVEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN IN THERE! TRAPS! SOLDIERS! COMBAT! AND YOU WANT TO BRING HIM INTO THE MIDDLE OF IT!?"

Peter tilted his head, bobbing it like the creature was doing a shrug.

Maxwell then crossed his arms, "Why should I? If you really cared about his safety, you'd take him as far away from here as possible."

The griffon gave him an inquisitional eyebrow, then Maxwell felt himself being held out. "Huh?"

Peter then warbled and Maxwell felt one on the talons on his shirt plunk off… like a pinky! Maxwell looked back at the bird, "Wait, what are you doing!?"

The griffon warbled again and seemed to be giving him a bird-like grin. He could feel himself being dangled like a held bell.

Maxwell's eyes shrunk, "…You wouldn't."

He then felt another talon let go, leaving not but two talons holding him between life and death.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT!" Maxwell desperately reached for the griffon's talons, "I'LL TAKE YOU BOTH WITH ME! JUST DON'T LET ME DROP!"

Peter warbled as if pleased with Maxwell's decision. Then he threw Maxwell up into the air. "WAAAAAHHHHHH!" The griffon flew after the mage, letting Maxwell land on his back.

However, this was unfortunate for Maxwell, especially for his nether region. He hand landed the wrong way, "DOH HOH HOH HOH! …eeeeuuuu…!" his face looking at Peter's tail feathers. Maxwell then felt himself fall over, his face landing in a plush of gray feathers. He didn't really care though. The pain just hurt!

O O O

The griffon landed just in front of Mobambi. "Peter! What did you do!? Where's the Magister?"

"Ugh…" Mobambi looked over Peter's shoulder to see Maxwell laying on Peter's back. The mage moved haphazardly, trying to swing his right leg past Peter's neck. It took him three tries to try and do it, and it looked both uncomfortable and painful to watch.

Maxwell slid off the mythical beast like a slinky on a staircase. He landed, rested a moment, then took out a mace from the handbag Maxwell was wearing. "Ooh!" Mobambi was impressed when the bludgeoning suddenly turned into a staff! It made the Magister look more like a wizard in his black robes and shoulder pack.

The mage then started walking funny. "Come on! …Let's get this over with…"

"Really—?"

"ARE YOU COMING OR NOT!?" the old wizard barked at him.

"AH! Coming!" *QURAWK!*