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They were back at it again, the three advisors. Well, really just the two—Leliana urging an alliance with the mages, Cullen arguing that the Templars were a better choice. Josephine just watched them both with distress.
Bridget held herself silent. This wasn't her call, not really. These people were the leadership of the Inquisition—she was merely its public face.
But they weren't getting anywhere, and tempers were rising, and, at the end of the day, Bridget was a mage. Without ever intending to speak, much less to make a definitive statement of intentions, she found herself raising her voice to be heard. "We go with the mages."
All three advisors snapped their heads around to look at her.
"Are you certain this is what you wish to do?" Cullen asked.
"Yes." Bridget held her ground firmly. She had taken her stance; now she would back it up. "The mages have the magical power to help us with the Breach. Grand Enchanter Fiona sent us the message through Vivienne that she wished to meet—while the Templars have made it abundantly clear they want nothing to do with us. The mages are here in Redcliffe, so if anything goes wrong we have better access to our army for backup."
Cullen frowned at her thoughtfully. "You make a good point. Several good points."
She had said no more than Leliana had already said repeatedly. Bridget supposed the difference was that he hadn't been listening to Leliana; he had been thinking of what he would say in support of the Templars while Leliana was speaking.
"Then it is decided?" Josephine looked at the three of them, ill-disguised relief in her eyes. It was much easier for her to manage her job, and to convince their visitors and supporters of the rightness of the decision, now that a decision had been made.
"It is," Bridget said firmly. It felt good to be in charge, illusory though the feeling was. "I'll leave in the morning to meet Grand Enchanter Fiona in Redcliffe."
On their arrival in Redcliffe the next day they were met by an Inquisition scout. "Your Worship."
"Arlyn, isn't it?"
"Yes, Your Worship." The elf blushed, clearly a bit overwhelmed that Bridget knew her name.
"Report, please."
"Of course. It seems …" Arlyn shifted her weight uncomfortably. "It seems that no one knew we were expected."
"No one?" Bridget echoed in surprise. "Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?"
"I haven't been able to locate her, but if she was expecting us, she hasn't told anyone else. I was able to arrange a meeting in the tavern; she should be there within the hour to discuss the mages' willingness to cooperate with us."
"I fail to see what there is to discuss," Vivienne said. "The Breach threatens all of us. What objection could there be?"
Another elf, this one not in an Inquisition uniform, hurried toward them, brushing Arlyn aside. "My apologies, agents of the Inquisition. We had not been informed that you had arrived."
"Are you representing the mages?" Bridget asked. She was about to introduce herself, but the elf started speaking before she could do so.
"Magister Alexius is in charge now, but he has not yet arrived in the village. He is expected shortly."
"Magister?" Bridget echoed blankly. "As in, from the Imperium? What is a Tevinter magister doing in Redcliffe? And … in charge?"
"Magister Alexius will explain. I understand the former Grand Enchanter is waiting in the tavern; you may speak with her. Perhaps she can explain."
He hurried off again, and Bridget and Vivienne exchanged looks of concern. "My dear, I do not like this at all."
"No. Nor do I. Let's go hear what Grand Enchanter Fiona has to say."
Sera and Blackwall followed them silently, each keeping their own counsel.
Bridget looked around as they moved through the village. There were a lot of mages there, all talking very quietly and looking around them as if afraid, but she saw no one they should have been afraid of. She also saw no representatives of the Chantry until they reached a makeshift hospital tent put up near a small house. One weary-looking Mother was tending the sick and wounded. She stood up as Bridget approached, looking the party over.
"You look well enough."
"We are from the Inquisition."
"Ah. A bit too late, then."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that it would have been better if you had arrived before the Tevinters." The Mother stifled a yawn, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth.
"Why is it that you are the only member of the Chantry I see here?" Bridget asked.
"Because Magister Alexius convinced them all to leave 'for their own safety'. For his convenience, more like. No concern for my own safety will drive me from my flock. If he wants me out, he'll have to throw me out. Now, if you'll excuse me?" Without waiting for a response, she turned to a young man lying on a cot nearby.
They left her to her work. Bridget admired that kind of devotion; she would have asked the Mother to join the Inquisition, but that would have meant ceasing her efforts here, where she was clearly much more needed.
The tavern was largely empty. Only a few mages were there, sitting tensely at the tables, watching as Bridget came in.
Sera gave a nervous laugh and started to make a smart comment, but a look from Vivienne quelled her.
A small dark-haired elf moved toward Bridget. "You must be from the Inquisition."
"Yes. Bridget Trevelyan. This is Warden Blackwall, and Sera, and—"
"You needn't introduce me," Vivienne said. "Fiona and I have known each other for a long time. Fiona, my dear, you look dreadful. Are you sleeping well?"
Fiona shook her head. "No one has slept well since … since the vote, I think."
"On the contrary. My conscience is perfectly clear."
"May I ask what brings you to Redcliffe?" Fiona asked Bridget, ignoring Vivienne.
"We require the mages' help to close the Breach. Also, you sent me a message, asking me to meet you."
"I did?" Fiona's eyebrows flew up. "I … do not believe so." She frowned. "There is … something, but … No. I cannot remember having sent you any message."
Bridget wondered for a moment if Vivienne had made up the message, but given her distaste for the rebel mages, it seemed unlikely.
Fiona went on, "Whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages … have already pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."
"They've what?" Bridget asked, shocked.
Vivienne moved closer to the Grand Enchanter. "Fiona, have you gone entirely mad?"
Doggedly, as if she had memorized the speech and couldn't afford to be distracted from it, Fiona continued, "As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate on behalf of the mages."
"Whatever could have led you to do such a thing?" Bridget asked when she had recovered her voice, and her wits.
"The Templar threat was immediate! They were murdering our people! The Tevinters came and offered help when no one else would. I had no choice."
"And the Breach?"
"We must survive this first. Then we can worry about the torn Veil."
Bridget had more questions, many more, but the door of the tavern opened before she could get to them, and she turned to see a man standing there. His stance, the way he surveyed the room, indicated this could be no one else but Magister Alexius. Another man, younger, very pale, and far less sure of himself, accompanied the Magister.
Alexius came toward Bridget, a patently fake smile on his face. "Welcome, Inquisition! I apologize for not having been able to meet you when you arrived."
Something about him ... everything about him put Bridget's back up. "Grand Enchanter Fiona has been entertaining us with the most fascinating story," she said coolly.
"All true, I'm sure." Alexius's smile took a turn for the pitying. "I am Gereon Alexius, and you are?"
"No doubt you know exactly who I am. Bridget Trevelyan, of the Inquisition."
"Yes. Of course." His eyes briefly flickered to the mark flashing in her left palm, and then back up. "The survivor from the Fade. You are very fortunate."
"So far." She held his gaze steadily. His presumption made her angry, and anger made her want to push him, to get answers. "Tell me, where is Arl Teagan? Should he not be involved in this discussion with us?"
"The Arl has left the village."
"That's strange," muttered Blackwall. "I've never heard of an Arl abandoning his holdings. Too difficult to get them back."
Alexius glanced at him, a slow, measuring look, before turning back to Bridget. "It was my idea, in fact. There were tensions growing, and I thought it best if the Arl left. For his own safety, of course." He smiled. "He was not difficult to persuade."
She thought immediately of blood magic, and her stomach turned. "Fiona tells me she is 'indentured'. What does that mean, exactly?"
"Our southern brethren have no legal status in the Imperium. They will need to work for ten years before gaining full rights."
"We're not in the Imperium," Bridget countered.
"But they are under our protection, which makes them subject to our laws. As their protector, I shall oversee their work on our behalf."
"But why would you offer your protection to mages so far from your own homeland? What benefit does the Imperium gain?"
"The Imperium is always searching for additional soldiers for the Legion. The southern mages will be properly trained to take their place there."
"No!" Fiona burst out. "You said not all my people would be military!"
Alexius ignored her entirely. "I am not surprised to see you here; containing the Breach is a large task, and very complicated." His look at Bridget told her he viewed her as entirely too young and inexperienced to take on such a task. "There is no telling how many mages you might require for such an accomplishment."
He wasn't going to give them mages, Bridget could tell, or if he did, there wouldn't be enough, or they would cost more than the Inquisition could afford to pay. "Can you help?" she asked, just to hear what he would say.
"Felix," Alexius said to the young man accompanying him, "do you have the latest count of the mages we have at our disposal? Ah," he said to Bridget, who was holding back her anger at his casual suggestion that the mages of Ferelden were his to do as he wished, "pardon my manners. My son, Felix."
She managed to grind out a reasonably polite "How do you do," but she didn't take her eyes off Alexius.
And then Alexius looked away from her, his face paling and his eyes widening, the first genuine, unstudied expression she had seen on his face. Felix was swaying visibly, his eyes closed as if in pain. He fell forward, against Bridget's shoulder. She took a step backward, and felt Blackwall's gauntlet against her back, giving her something to brace herself against. With that firm support, she managed to keep Felix from falling.
"Thank you," he said softly, standing upright again with some effort. Alexius rushed to his son's side.
"Felix, are you all right?"
"I … think so, Father."
"We must get you back to the castle, get you some powders." Without a backward glance for anyone in the tavern, Alexius hurried his son out the door.
Grand Enchanter Fiona followed them, her head down, looking for all the world like a slave. The sight sickened Bridget, and her hand clenched involuntarily. Only then did she notice the piece of paper that she was holding. Unfolding it, she read, "Come to the Chantry. You are in danger."
"That much was obvious," Vivienne said. The mage was as calm as ever, but Bridget could see in her eyes how angry and distressed she was. Bridget shared both emotions. How could Fiona have been so stupid? Why had the other mages allowed her to make such a disastrous decision?
"We might as well go to the Chantry, then," she said. If someone wanted to keep her out of danger, maybe they also wanted to free the other mages from this "indenture."
A young man stood near the door of the tavern, wearing the blank, expectant look of the Tranquil. She had always been saddened by the Tranquil, and had gone out of her way to look out for those in her Circle. She stopped to speak to the young man, who told her the Tranquil had been largely swept out of Redcliffe village, as it bothered Alexius to look at them. Bridget could only imagine a countryside full of Tranquil mages, who wanted nothing but to be useful; easy targets for rogue Templars and anyone else who might prey on them.
"Come to the Inquisition," she said. "We can find you work."
"That … would be nice. Yes. Thank you," the young man said, nodding gently.
"And tell any other Tranquil you meet that the Inquisition will give them work to do as well."
He agreed, and Bridget led her people from the tavern.
"My dear, are you certain that's wise?" Vivienne asked.
"Better than having them wander the countryside and get themselves killed. It isn't their fault, what was done to them."
Vivienne clearly considered arguing the point, but Bridget was in no mood for that particular debate right now, and the other mage seemed to recognize that. She stepped back, remaining quiet for the moment.
The Chantry was deserted, or so Bridget thought, until the doors closed behind them with a heavy clang and a slender dark-haired man in mage robes stepped out of the shadows. "I was beginning to think you were never coming," he said, in an unmistakably Tevinter accent.
"Perhaps we shouldn't have," Bridget said, studying him.
"You are the Herald of Andraste, aren't you? You bear the mark?" At her nod, he asked, "May I see it?"
Oddly, no one had ever asked, at least, not so openly. Bridget lifted her hand, opening it so he could see the mark flashing in her palm.
"How does that work, exactly?" he asked, bending over her hand.
Bridget shrugged, and he laughed.
"You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and the rifts close."
"Something like that. May I ask who you are?"
"Ah, I knew I had forgotten something! Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. And you?"
"I've been better. Bridget of House Trevelyan, formerly of Ostwick."
"Indeed. How very formal we both are." If Dorian was concerned about her companions, he showed no sign of it.
Vivienne tsked. "Let one Tevinter in, suddenly they're scurrying out of all the walls like roaches."
Dorian didn't seem offended by the remark. Instead, he seemed to find it quite amusing. He smiled at Vivienne, and said, "Surely you can see that I'm far more handsome than a cockroach."
"What brings you to Ferelden, Dorian?" Bridget asked. "Are you part of the 'protection' that has been offered the southern mages?"
"Hardly." He frowned. "Where to begin? Magister Alexius was once my mentor. We … lost touch for quite some time, and I find that he has developed some disturbing alliances. I came to offer you my help. As I'm sure you can imagine, my years training under him should make my assistance quite valuable."
Bridget glanced over her shoulder at Blackwall, but he didn't seem concerned by this odd Tevinter. Sera was wandering the room, no doubt looking for something to steal, Bridget thought. Well, the Chantry wasn't using it at the moment, and it gave the elf something to do … and Maker knew the Inquisition could use the money.
"Are you a magister?" she asked Dorian.
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Let's skip the lecture on Tevinter politics for the moment and simply say that not all mages of the Imperium are magisters. I happen to be one of the 'not all'."
"Fair enough. Did you ask Felix to give me that note?"
"Yes. I imagine he'll be meeting us here once he ditches his father."
"Alexius couldn't jump to Felix's side fast enough when he pretended to be faint."
"I don't believe he was pretending. Felix has been suffering from a lingering illness for some time now; he is his father's only son, and as such, the object of most of Alexius's grander plans for his legacy."
"So you're here because you're concerned about Alexius?" Bridget asked.
Dorian looked thoughtful at that. "Partly, I suppose? One of the concepts Alexius and I had been working on was time; Alexius appears to have found a way to have appeared in Redcliffe just after the Conclave."
"Ridiculous," Vivienne scoffed.
"I wouldn't be so sure," Blackwall said. "Think about it; how did the Tevinters manage to arrive in force, so quickly, without anyone knowing, before the Inquisition?"
"Exactly." Dorian nodded approvingly at him. "Alexius distorted time itself."
Bridget frowned. "I didn't know you could do that."
"I didn't, either. We had never gotten it to work. Apparently at some point after I left his tutelage, Alexius managed."
"That seems very dangerous."
"It is. Which is why I have come to help you stop him."
"It couldn't be because you want the secrets of Alexius's magic for yourself, could it?" Vivienne asked.
Dorian shook his head emphatically. "No. Not being mad, I have no use for altering time." He frowned. "I just don't understand what Alexius hopes to gain. The Imperium is not so desperate for slaves that it would be worth ripping time to shreds just for the mages."
Felix emerged from the shadows, having apparently come through a side door. "It wasn't for them," he said. "He's joined a cult—Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves the 'Venatori'." He looked at Bridget. "Their ultimate goal is to get to you."
"Me?" She clenched her left hand. "Because of the mark."
"I think so. And because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes."
"Do you think they see her as a threat?" Blackwall asked.
"Possibly."
"Could these Venatori be behind the rifts, or the Breach itself?" Vivienne asked, her studied persona lost in her concern.
Felix shook his head. "I don't know, but if they are, they're more of a threat than I thought." He swallowed visibly, putting a hand to his head. "I love my father, and I love my country, but this? Cults? Altering time? This is madness."
"How do we stop him?" Bridget asked, looking between the two Tevinters.
"We find out what he wants, and we get it first," Dorian said. "Easy as pie."
Sera's voice floated out from the shadows somewhere. "You ever make a pie? Bloody hard. Especially the crust."
"Pardon my inept simile, then," Dorian called back.
"When?" Bridget asked.
"No time like the present."
Felix led Bridget and her people to the castle, while Dorian slipped out the side door of the Chantry, promising to meet them there. He didn't want Alexius to know he was in Redcliffe until the last possible minute.
"Do you really believe we can trust them, my dear?"
"I think there's a good chance, yes," Bridget said softly, not wanting Felix to hear. "And if not … well, I don't see what the purpose of the whole detour to the Chantry would have been, and I rather imagine Alexius wasn't going to want me to leave Redcliffe anyway. Might as well face him now."
"If you insist."
Bridget glanced back at Blackwall, reassured to see he was still there.
He was, and determined to stay there no matter what. If his task was to protect the Herald, and it seemed that it was, then he would do it to the best of his ability.
Alexius was waiting for them in the throne room. His attendants had attempted to separate the party, but Bridget, with Felix backing her up, had insisted that her people went where she went. Blackwall didn't quite like the ease with which the Tevinters yielded, as if they didn't think he and Sera and Vivienne looked like much of a threat. Well, perhaps they didn't. But Sera could lodge an arrow in a man's eye before he could blink, he himself had kept in shape all these years fighting darkspawn and bandits and bears and whatever else came to hand to fight, and Vivienne was right scary even before she drew her staff and began to cast.
The Magister stood up from the throne, coming toward them. "Ah, you came to conclude our discussion, I see. I'm sure we can work out an … equitable arrangement."
Grand Enchanter Fiona, standing behind him, looked distressed. "Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?"
Vivienne said cuttingly, "You gave up that right when you sold yourselves to the Tevinters. How do the Circles look to you now, my dear? I think your people would rather go back than to find out what's ahead of them."
Alexius ignored her, saying, "Fiona, you entrusted me with the care of your followers' lives, remember? Clearly, you have given me the task of deciding their fate."
Bridget said, "I would prefer to have the Grand Enchanter's opinion as we go forward. For one thing, she will know which mages are likely to be the most useful in closing the Breach. I doubt you've had the time to learn much about the individual mages' skills." She stressed "time" ever so lightly, and Alexius gave a faint frown in response.
"Fine," he snapped. "Let's get on with it, shall we? What do you offer for my mages?"
"Actually," Bridget said, "I wondered what you could tell me about the Venatori."
Alexius took a hasty step toward her before he caught herself. "Where did you hear that name?"
"I told her," Felix said quickly.
"What have you done?"
"He brought me here," Bridget said. "Just like you asked. What is it you want with me?"
Alexius took another step toward her, and so did Blackwall, protectively. "Do you know what you are?" the Magister asked, his voice rising and deepening with emotion. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you cannot even begin to comprehend, and you think for even a moment you're in control? You're nothing but a mistake."
Bridget didn't move. Blackwall wondered if she knew how much courage she had; most people would have fallen back from the malice in the Magister's face. "Tell me what was supposed to happen."
"It was to be a triumph for the Elder One, for this world!"
"Father!" Felix cried. "Do you know what you sound like?"
"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be. The kind we laughed at over brandy when our work was done for the day." The now-familiar Tevinter voice held sorrow as Dorian stepped out from behind a pillar and turned to face the Magister. "Hello, Alexius."
"Dorian." Alexius turned toward the newcomer, his voice softening. "It isn't too late for you to be a part of this. You could reconsider. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes."
"The Elder One?" Bridget asked. "Is that who killed the Divine? Is he a mage?"
"He will make the world bow to mages once more. Surely that is what you want?" he asked Bridget.
"I don't want to be bowed to. I just want to live in peace."
"Alexius, this is exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen!" Dorian shouted. "Why would you support this?"
"Father," Felix said, "let's go home. Give up the Venatori, let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let's go home."
"No!" Alexius reached for his son, holding his arm tightly. "This is the only way, Felix. He is the only one who can save you!"
Felix sighed wearily. "No one can save me, Father. I'm dying. We both know it."
"No. He promised. If I undo the mistake at the Temple …"
"I don't want to live if that's the cost, Father. Not at the cost of everything that made you a good man. Don't you understand?"
But Alexius was beyond understanding. He was staring at Bridget with a force of purpose that was deaf to his son's pleas. "The Elder One demands this woman's life!"
And then it all seemed to happen at once. Alexius raised some kind of amulet that glowed as green as the mark on Bridget's hand, Felix shouted "No!" and grabbed for his father, Dorian raised his staff and thrust himself between Bridget and the amulet, something that looked like a rift but wasn't opened in the middle of the hall … and then Bridget was gone, and Dorian with her.
Blackwall stared at the empty space as if somehow he could bring her back, but it was too late. He had failed to protect her.