Chapter 30: The Dread Wolf's Plan
They continued their search for answers, finding more mosaics. Although no one could divine a precise explanation, the art itself provided some answers. Pictures, after all, were a universal language that stood the test of time. Thousands of years later, their meaning could be roughly divined. These mosaics depicted Fen'Harel removing the facial markings of ancient elves—markings remarkably like those the Elvhen clans tattooed today—and one depicting the supposed trickster revealing to the freed slaves that the "gods" were merely powerful mage lords.
Dorian chuckled at this. "So Tevinter can't even claim to have invented the idea of magisters! We really did take everything from Arlathan. Including, it seems, things that we should have allowed to die."
"Few can resist the allure of power over others," Cassandra said dourly.
"Isn't that the truth?" Max agreed.
After an additional Qunari encounter, they finally found some information that was not ancient, and which offered the beginning of an answer to the question of why a Qunari soldier was in the Halamshiral Palace: a letter.
Max read it quickly. "This says that the Qunari came to these ruins because the eluvian connects to Halamshiral. So it is as we feared: They have learned how to use at least some of the eluvians. Though that, I suppose, was obvious from the fact that we've been fighting them in here," he added. He scowled. "And they probably did mean to invade. They must have assumed that the Dales would be the most unstable site due to the war, the easiest to get into."
"Or they wanted to attack the Palace because of the General Assembly meeting," Dorian said.
"Or both."
They all exchanged dark looks, then continued through the network. Max soon found another letter, this one more ominous.
"A note about an 'unknown intruder' coming through an eluvian. They 'turned spirits against us,' then fled," Max read.
"A mage. They killed any Qunari in the way and let the spirits do the rest," Dorian said. "We've been seeing the evidence of that. And I imagine we can guess which mage it is."
The three not in the know exchanged looks. Varric spoke. "I don't think we can. But you two can, and it's clear that you know—or guess—something that the rest of us don't. Care to share it?"
Max took a deep breath. "Iron Bull, Cassandra, Varric—I don't know if I can speak of these things to you—Morrigan couldn't—but I will try. Because you do have a right to know." He glanced at Dorian. How to explain this without triggering a spell? "The... chief character in these mosaics that we've been seeing," he said. "The leader of the slaves. We know him. All of us." He gave them a pointed look. "Someone who left Skyhold just after Corypheus's defeat. Someone who took the mark off my hand."
Their eyes widened. "That... explains a lot," Cassandra breathed.
"Maker's fucking breath," Varric swore.
"Varric!"
He shrugged. "I think He has greater sins to worry about than an f-bomb."
She shook her head, but it was affectionate. "Very well. We have some answers, then. The Agents of... this person... and the Qunari. But we do know that the Qunari are attempting to attack the Assembly and Halamshiral. We must return there and warn our colleagues."
"This makes no sense," Josephine said when they were back in Halamshiral. "We may not be friendly with the Qunari, but they have no reason to attack us."
Leliana's gaze was hard. "We are bas. That is all the reason that they need, it seems."
Varric raised his brows in surprise. "You sound like a certain Grand Cleric I know."
"I believe she is right in this, but I hope the resemblance stops there. In any case, I will have the eluvian guarded. Heavily."
"First the Blight, then the Mage-Templar War, then Corypheus, then the Dalish Rebellion, and now this," Cullen complained. "We can't seem to go two years without trouble."
"It is named the Dragon Age," Max said dourly. "In any case, we knew that trouble was coming. At least this time we have the ability to stop a disaster before it occurs."
"We must ensure that the Qunari do not disrupt the Assembly meeting," Josephine said. "Anders' document ruffled many feathers."
"I don't know," Leliana considered. "Maybe we should tell them all that we know. Maybe we should tell them that the Qunari mean to attack. When the threat is immediate, they might be motivated to unify."
Max agreed. "I completely concur. Tell them. We'll continue to track the Qunari and the Agents through the eluvians, finding out whatever we can. You two, tell the Assembly all about this. Impress upon them how dire things are and how much we need to stand firmly against the tyranny of the Qun... and the evil of racial nationalism."
Back in the eluvian network, Max's group almost immediately encountered more Qunari. The attack was continuing, though no one in the Qunari had managed to get through again. They also observed an egg-shaped magical device. Max was reminded vaguely of the elven artifacts he had seen during the war against Corypheus, but this one was red. There was no time to investigate, though; they needed to follow the Qunari and determine their intentions.
But when they found another such item, and interacting with it produced a magical bridge, the Qunari's method of transportation became obvious. They had learned as much about ancient elven artifacts as Morrigan herself, if not more. Max could tell that Dorian was very discomfited.
"Tevinter should have beaten them to this," he said, sounding almost offended. "I mean—it isn't ours any more than it is theirs, but they hate magic! We, uh, don't. We should have investigated this..."
"Say what you will about Corypheus, but he did take power where he found it," Varric said. "If that meant elven artifacts, he took them. I think some of your modern-day magisters would turn down a magic way to kill every Qunari in Thedas all at once if it came from the ancient elves."
"What a horrid suggestion," Iron Bull opined. "I am not Qunari anymore, but an object like that would be vile."
"I didn't say it wouldn't, Tiny. I didn't say it wouldn't. It was a hypothetical situation."
"Still, you are likely correct, Varric," Cassandra said.
Dorian sighed. "Probably. Let's just move on."
The next eluvian dumped them into, of all places, the Deep Roads. Qunari attacked almost at once, calling them servants of Fen'Harel. There was no time for—and no point in—trying to correct them.
After this skirmish, Varric glanced around, shaking his head. "Why would an elven mirror lead here?"
They did not get an answer to that, but as they continued their walk, they came upon a caved-in area. The Qunari had been mining. Were they trying to create a better version of black powder? Max voiced this thought.
"It's entirely possible, Inky," Varric agreed. "Hawke—and, now, Ferelden—have them beat. Their stuff can't do what ours can. Cannons, sure—but not handheld arquebuses. It's too wild and explosive for anything controlled like that. And forget rockets that can travel almost two miles. Not a chance."
"That's ominous," Dorian said.
"War continues to evolve," Cassandra said. "We would not stagnate, so we should not expect our enemies to have done so."
They continued to examine and investigate the mine, finally happening upon a human—a convert to the Qun, it seemed.
"Stay back!" the man snapped. "I—" He hesitated. "Your missing hand. Are you a veteran of the war—any of the wars—or... wait, you can't be the Inquisitor?"
"I am, for the time being," Max said in hard tones.
"Please," the man begged. "We don't have much time. You have to stop the Viddasala. What she is doing—she cannot succeed."
"Iron Bull?" Dorian asked offhandedly behind Max's back.
Iron Bull translated and explained. "Viddasala is a high-ranking Ben-Hassrath who specializes in magic. Finding, studying, stopping."
"So the Knight-Vigilant of the Qunari, basically," Max said.
"I wouldn't have thought of it that way, but... in a way, yes," the Qunari convert said. "I was once a Templar myself. Served in Kirkwall until Hawke and Anders took the Gallows, then I joined the Orthodox Chantry, and then, when the writing was on the wall for that, I joined the Qun."
"Never Corypheus? You never served with the Red Templars?" Varric said.
"Never."
"Good," Max cut in. "But time is short. What is this Viddasala up to?"
"This is a lyrium mining and processing center. The Qunari need it for saarebas. I assume you know what they are?" Max nodded curtly, and he continued. "Even as a Templar, I'd never seen anything like the power they can unleash. And now Viddasala is giving them lyrium. It's part of something she calls 'Dragon's Breath.'"
"That's a load of crap," Iron Bull interjected. "There is no way Viddasala would let saarebas within a thousand feet of lyrium."
"There's more to it than that, but I couldn't find out anything else. The Qunari don't like it when you ask too many questions."
"Why do your fellows you think we are working for Fen'Harel?" Max asked.
"Because Viddasala said you were his army, and we did not question it. They have been all over the Crossroads, doing sabotage, making spirits attack us, fighting themselves when forced..."
"Trying, for purposes of their own, to prevent you from invading the Dales?" Max growled. "But we are not with them. Whatever she told you about us is a lie."
"I see that now, but I swear to you, she is giving the saarebas lyrium. You know how dragon's breath destroys everything in its path? She said this plan would 'save the South.' When the Qunari speak of such things, it means that they plan to invade."
"We have figured that much out," Cassandra said curtly.
"This is the only lyrium mine that the Qunari have. They are using gaatlok to do it. That way they don't have to touch the raw lyrium. If you get the primers from central supply, you can prime the gaatlok and detonate it. The mines will go up in flames."
Max nodded. "This is likely to get bad when the mine goes up. You'd better get to safety. If you are disillusioned with the Qun, get to Halamshiral and find Cullen Rutherford. He used to be a Templar too. He'll understand and he might be able to offer you a new purpose, one you won't become disillusioned with."
"I will. Good luck to you all."
Afterward.
They barely made it out of the Deep Roads before the flood ensued. It was certainly fun to think about setting off blackpowder, but once the spark was actually lit, the precarious situation had been unavoidable.
Back in Halamshiral once again, they informed Leliana of what they had learned. The defector had made contact with Cullen, but the Inquisition party could tell the Halamshiral companions everything—including finally sharing the truth about Solas.
"So that is why the Qunari think we serve Fen'Harel," Leliana said. "I confess, I am not pleased that they learned who he was before some of us did. But that is not your fault, Max."
"At this point I doubt there is an enchantment over the name," Dorian said. "It sounds like the 'secret' is too widely known for there to be any point."
Leliana nodded. "We will speak openly, then."
"Josephine," Max addressed her, "how goes the General Assembly?"
"They were shocked to learn about the Qunari attack, but it has not served to unite them behind the Declaration of Natural Rights," she reported. "They do, however, agree that unity is necessary, and uniting behind that is the only option currently on the table, so it seems more hopeful than it did before."
"And the opponents of natural rights do not hold the cards," Leliana added. "Anders and his allies—our allies—can also refuse to compromise, and we have right on our side."
"We have the Divine on our side," Max said. "If you endorse natural rights—and you did—you can claim the imprimatur of the Maker's will."
"And you too, Inquisitor," she said gently. "Even without your mark, your word carries weight. And this is not just a cynical use of power. I firmly, truly, sincerely believe that the Maker granted every person on Thedas these rights. I will confer with Anders, Arl Teagan, and our other allies, and we will emphasize that."
"At least there's that," Max said. "So... I suppose we need to pursue our lead, this Viddasala."
The advisors exchanged another look. Cullen finally spoke up. "Inquisitor, I might as well tell you—and we should have told you this first—but our agents have found gaatlok barrels packed around the site."
Max's eyes popped. "What? Qunari gaatlok? We're completely certain that nobody else did this? It wouldn't be that hard for someone to steal the formula from Ferelden or maybe even Kirkwall..."
"We weren't sure at first—as you say, it could have been anyone seeking to cause mischief—but with the addition of Jerran, the former Templar, we were able to confirm that this is the Qunari formulation."
"How in the Maker's name did Briala let this happen?" Max exclaimed.
"It is a dire lapse," Leliana said. "I have advised her to destroy the eluvians, because they are no longer an asset, but a security hole. Between the Agents of Fen'Harel and now the Qunari, they put her palace unacceptably at risk."
"I'm glad you have had her wait until we got back," Max said.
"We did, but we had another reason to want her to wait. We also found a note with one of the barrels. It reads, 'When duty has been performed, report to the Viddasala through the mirror marked by a bookcase.'"
"And let me guess," Dorian put in, "that's what we need to do next?"
Leliana chuckled. "I am sorry, Max. Truly I am."
"No, it's fine," Max said. "I'm really just glad to know that I'm still useful with just one hand. It's been very good for my self-esteem." He chuckled too. "And let's face it, we have a shortcut to reach the Viddasala. We'd be fools not to take it. We have no idea where she is otherwise."
"Precisely."
When they stepped through this eluvian, they found themselves in a ghostly library. It was not a finished place, but was broken, tattered, and half-undone in places. Max would have found it cozy and welcoming but for the fact that some of the floor dropped off to nothing.
"This definitely saw a massive magical backlash some time ago," Dorian observed. "It's a shame, really. It must have been quite a trove of knowledge."
Max doubted that they would find the Viddasala here. Nothing was impossible, but he could not envision just what she might be doing here. Still, they had to investigate until they found a way out. Along the way, they encountered a spirit that introduced itself as Archivist.
"I am study," the spirit intoned. "I am a learning thirst. Come, know what has not been lost. New words. New stories."
"You do speak my language," Max remarked, referring to his belief that the new should be accommodated rather than resisted when it was inevitable, unless there was an extremely good reason to do otherwise.
"The Qunari would not approach, but we learned their words as well. If you wish to exchange knowledge, they congregate by the lower gate."
"I wish we could just exchange knowledge with them," Max sighed. "But you—this place—how did it come to be?"
"This is the Vir Dirthara. The living knowledge of the empire. The libraries of every city. The wisdom of every court. A connecting place whose paths are in disarray."
"What caused the disarray?"
"The Vir Dirthara was made with world and Fade. When they sundered, so did we. Paths broke. Knowledge fragmented. Many were trapped. I preserve their last words."
That sounds like something Cole would do, Max thought. He did not particularly wish to know what the doomed elves had thought. "What caused the sundering?" he asked.
"I regret I do not know. I was sundered too, from myself. If you discover part of me near the Qunari, I may learn more. Kindly give it my greetings. I have not thought with myself in a long time."
"If this was all the knowledge of the elven empire, there must be thousands of years of history here," Dorian said. "You could teach so much..."
"I will try to recall, honored patron, but there are gaps… breaks… Greetings. Laughter. Emma enasal. Forms out of air. Light. Memories. Aneth ara! So many. Broken paths at every… Missing. Missing. Missing!"
How sad, Max thought. For all his belief that history's march was inevitable, he knew there was still immeasurable value in preserving knowledge—even knowledge that had become obsolete, or which made modern people uncomfortable. It represents someone's life work, perhaps. People labored to learn things. It is not right that they should just fade into oblivion.
But some catastrophe had done just that. It was sad—but Max knew that he had to stick to his duty, which was to find the Qunari and Viddasala. He took his leave of the spirit and headed toward the direction it had indicated.
The Qunari were dead, but their bodies were completely unmarked by wounds, either physical or magical.
"Well, that's disturbing," Varric observed.
"Look at their eyes," Cassandra said. "They died in fear."
"Scared shitless," Iron Bull agreed.
"And there is another Archivist spirit, as the one in the library said," Max said, pointing at the approaching being. "Can you tell us what happened here?" he asked it.
The spirit did not seem as aware as the one in the library, and it did not answer Max's question. Indeed, it seemed to think that he was asking about a different event entirely, and its answer responded to that. "Welcome," it intoned, oblivious to the bodies. "Listen to the words of those who lived past the fall. 'How could the Dread Wolf cast a Veil between the world that wakes and the world that dreams?'"
"What?" Max sputtered. "The Veil? It wasn't always here?"
The spirit continued repeating the cries of ancient elves. "'The Evanuris will send people. They will save us!'"
"Those must have been the magister-type lords that they worshiped as gods," Dorian said.
"'When have you last heard from the gods?' 'What is this Veil? What has Fen'Harel done?'"
Max stared at the Archivist. "But... how could that be? Even if... Fen'Harel... once had power to create the Veil over Thedas, it couldn't have extended to... the moons, or the stars! Nobody, not even Fen'Harel, could have been powerful enough to raise the Veil over... over the whole universe!"
"An excellent point," Dorian mused thoughtfully. "I wonder..."
"Exactly," Cassandra said. "Only the Maker could do that. Either the Veil does not exist anywhere else in the universe, or it was an anomaly for there not to be one on Thedas in the days of Arlathan."
"And if there is no Veil anywhere else, what is it like on the moon, then?" Max continued. "If we went there somehow, we would pass through the Veil to get there? And if that's the case—if the other celestial bodies have no Veil but Thedas does—then why can we see the moon and stars at all? Why can we see the sun? There is no sun in the Fade. This makes no sense to me."
"Does it not?" Dorian said darkly. "You know that my mentor, Magister Alexius, was studying time. Some others have theories about space. And in Tevinter, some researchers have done experiments with magnetism. It can defy gravity in a small area if the magnet is powerful enough. A number of magisters scoff at this kind of research, dismissing any forces of nature except magic, but I think they are fools... especially now. If we can create small areas where magnetism is the most powerful force, why couldn't the ancient elves—these Evanuris, perhaps—have created an area on Thedas where magic is the most powerful force? And our friend Fen'Harel undid their work."
Max's brain whirled with this new idea. It made sense to him, he had to admit. Dorian was bloody brilliant sometimes.
"So," Dorian continued, "if that's the case, it means that you and Cassandra are right. Either there is no Veil anywhere else in the universe, meaning that we couldn't ever ride one of Hawke's rockets to the moon if they became powerful enough, because we'd have to pass through the Veil to get there... and to be frank, I have no explanation for how we can see the sun, moon, and stars in that case... or—and this is my guess—the Evanuris created a pocket on Thedas where magic was more powerful than anything else, and Fen'Harel restored the natural order."
Max breathed heavily. "Wow. I feel like my mind just expanded three times. We should share this with Anders. It's the sort of thing that would interest him."
"If we get back home, by all means."
And with that, they had to set aside their shocking new revelations and continue their pursuit.
They encountered another part of the Archivist, this one reiterating exclamations such as "after he held back the sky to imprison the gods, the Dread Wolf disappeared," "the cities, the pathways… without magic, they're crumbling," and "Fen'Harel's Veil has turned our empire to ruins." This all fit with Dorian's theory that Elvhenan—possibly Thedas as a whole—had been a pocket where magic was more powerful than any other natural force. If the Evanuris had been determined to raise such a magic-dependent empire, they would have needed those conditions.
But at last, they reached the Viddasala herself. A very attractive Qunari woman, she regarded them with cold detachment.
"Survivor of the Breach," she greeted Max. "Herald of change. Hero of the South."
"Viddasala?" Max replied.
"It was astonishing to us to hear that you still walked free among your people after fulfilling your purpose at the Breach. You do not even bear the mark anymore. Why are you permitted to walk free? Of course, I know the answer," she continued. "This chaos in the south defies comprehension. The Qun left your people to curb your own magic. You have abdicated that duty. Mages roam free among you, occupying seats in your council. One even rules a nation and terrorizes others with brutal perversions of our gaatlok. This proves that we should have stepped in long ago."
"So that's what this is about?" Max said in hard tones. "That's the purpose of 'Dragon's Breath'? Murdering our General Assembly just to control our magic? And steal our weapons for yourselves?" he couldn't resist adding. "You demean Kirkwall's rockets, but you know that they and Ferelden's arquebuses surpass what your people have done with explosives. You're envious of us."
"What we know is that you people cannot govern yourselves, to place mages in charge of such things. You are constantly at war with each other; this proves it. When we saw the Breach, the Qun decided its action. We would remove your leaders and spare those who toil. This agent of Fen'Harel has disrupted everything. Lives that were to be spared, lost for him!"
"What agent of Fen'Harel?" Max said in contempt. He would not dare tell her that, if she meant Solas, this was Fen'Harel himself.
Viddasala turned aside, refusing to answer him. "Kill the Inquisitor," she instructed her people, "and then follow me to the Darvaarad."
But Max had expected this, and they were ready for the fight.
Yet another Archivist-type spirit approached them after the fight, telling them to find the Darvaarad with a keystone—Max gave them a quick nod to search for that—and a password.
This particular Archivist had been given a name in Elvhen: "Ghil-Dirthalen," which it said meant "one who guides seekers of knowledge true."
Max had rather serious doubts that this library had actually been open to anyone who sought knowledge. After all, the mosaics in Fen'Harel's stronghold had depicted slaves. He knew enough about slavery in Tevinter from Dorian to know that masters rarely let their slaves learn for the sake of knowledge.
"I was connection," the spirit continued. "One city could read the records of another, one Elvhen feel the memories of another. When the Veil fell upon us, I marked the end of all they knew."
Max thanked it briefly, not seeing the point in disillusioning this ancient, broken being. As they prepared to return again to Halamshiral to let the others know what they had found, he did speak once the spirit was out of hearing.
"I'm sure the libraries of magic, history, and science in Tevinter are spectacular," he said to Dorian with a nod.
"They are, amatus," Dorian agreed, cynicism on his face as he understood at once where this was going.
"And as Leliana said, the Halamshiral Palace was beautiful and dazzling, full of glories. But such things are not for, as Sera would say, the little people. They never are." He gazed at the eluvian that they were approaching. "Not even these. While the Evanuris and their Elvhen courtiers built this magnificent library, these beautiful crossroads and eluvians, all these wonderful magical artifacts, their slaves toiled away thanklessly and were brainwashed into calling their overlords 'gods.'"
Varric nodded. "I've never been in it—surface dwarves aren't allowed into Orzammar—but I have heard that the Shaperate there is a fancy place full of knowledge, too."
"You aren't allowed in, and the casteless dwarves who live there can't visit it either, no doubt. Again, it's always the same. These things aren't for the 'lesser orders,'" Max said with a snarl. He gazed back at the library one last time. "It's a shame that this knowledge is broken, but that does not mean it should be restored to what it was then. It does not mean that Fen'Harel was wrong to raise the Veil... or restore it, if your theory is right, Dorian."
"I wish Sera were here," Varric said. "She'd have plenty of commentary."
Max sighed. "It's like the old days, isn't it? Our debates among ourselves about preserving the beautiful parts of the past or letting unjust orders fall if something better can replace them. This library must have been wonderful in its day. I wish we could bring it back in its full glory and open it up to everyone, which—although these Archivists don't tell us, because they probably never knew, never saw the countless slaves—it never was in the days of Elvhenan."
"Chuckles—Solas—must have remembered all these lost things while forgetting the ugly parts," Varric said.
"It would be logical," Dorian agreed, "considering that, if you were stuck in the Fade for years, what would you rather do? Walk around pretty places, or seek out the horrible memories of slaves? We'd all choose the first. And so did he, and that's what he remembers best now."
"It's like Leliana and I agreed on the way back to Skyhold," Max said. "We tell ourselves this story that the things that were, that have fallen, were glorious and beautiful, and what we have now is ugly and low. But it's always a selective rewriting of the past in our own memories."
And with that, they reached the eluvian and stepped through to Halamshiral.
The advisors were in the midst of a heated discussion. Cullen was gravely alarmed. Anders had managed to demand access to the room as well, and he was practically shouting.
"The Royal Guard of Ferelden apprehended Qunari agents trying to break into the powder house at Fort Drakon?" Cullen said in disbelief and horror.
"The powder house and the armory where their arquebuses are stored," Leliana confirmed. "They had plans to relocate the black powder to the Palace itself, disguised as guards. Elissa was horrified; that was something she and Alistair did in the Blight to get out of the Fort when they were wrongly imprisoned. She thinks that the Arishok—Sten—must have spoken of it to the Qunari, giving them the idea."
"Are we thinking the Arishok has turned against his friends?" Cullen asked.
"She hasn't been in contact with him since the Blight, but she thought she had obtained his respect. He called her bas-alitan once."
Anders cut in aggressively. "Ask his predecessor about that, if you want to dig up his corpse and resurrect it! The only way to gain their respect is to play their game. Cait never did. She didn't need to seek the approval of Thedas's enemies, of the enemies of mages. It doesn't mean that they won't try to kill you later! It doesn't mean that you'll ever be anything to them but 'bas.'"
Josephine gave him a hard look. "And yet they have also found several Qunari spies in the Ironbark Ridge research and development site. They were trying to steal your formulas and schematics too, and smuggle powder and rockets to Kirkwall's Darktown!"
"And Cait made a very public example of them once she had gotten information about the rest of them!" Anders retorted.
Cullen grimaced. He had seen some of the Viscountess of Kirkwall's "very public examples" of traitors in the Mage-Templar War.
"What kind of 'very public example'?" Cassandra asked roughly. "Did she burn them at the stake?"
"No, she brought them out and publicly beheaded them before a crowd." Anders looked proud of his wife.
"And the Grand Cleric of Kirkwall is trying to exploit the situation, of course," Leliana continued. "She thinks I should be deposed."
Max finally interrupted this. "Just a moment. Everyone try to calm down." He glanced at his advisors. "The Qunari are targeting Ferelden and Kirkwall, trying to steal their military secrets and use their own powder against them?"
"Yes," Josephine confirmed. "And not just them. Gaatlok, the Qunari kind, has also been found under the Imperial Palace in Val Royeaux."
"And the Palace of Starkhaven," Cullen added. "It was labeled falsely there, made to look like the barrels came from Kirkwall, but Sebastian smelled a rat and had Kirkwall's people come and chemically test it. It's Qunari gaatlok too."
"So they were trying to make him, or whoever the survivors would be, think that Kirkwall had betrayed Starkhaven," Max said. "Maker's breath."
"Grand Cleric Petrice says that the Chantry should declare Exalted March on the Qun," Anders said, and Max raised his eyebrows at these words from him, of all people. "That's for the Divine to decide, of course—but I will give you all fair warning, when I return to the General Assembly, I will move for the nations to declare war. This cannot be hushed up." He gaze the Inquisition a hard look. "If the General Assembly doesn't support us, we'll go it alone. VMTO has ample cause, between the Qunari deception at Starkhaven, trying to sow enmity between the cities again, and the spies at Ironbark Ridge." He glared at them all before stalking out and slamming the door.
Max let out a gasp of exhaustion and shock as he collapsed into a chair. "So," he said, trying to open with a lighthearted comment, "I step out a bit and the world blows up again."
Leliana managed a bleak laugh. "This had already been set in motion, and it is only now being discovered. Thank the Maker for the sending-stone network, so we could learn about this at once. I have sent ravens to places that don't have sending-stones, like Antiva City, to warn them. But I imagine others have already sent word."
"How did this happen?" Max said.
Leliana sighed. "We tracked down the source of the gaatlok barrels that had been placed here. An elven servant. He admitted to working for the Qunari."
"That also sounds like Kirkwall ten years ago," Varric said.
"Yes," Cullen agreed. "Many of the elves converted to the Qun, trying to find a better life."
"I'm glad this didn't happen during the Dalish Rebellion," Leliana said. "Queen Briala managed to distance herself from the Agents of Fen'Harel because she was more closely aligned with Alienage elves, and she stood for multiracial alliances and cooperation." She sighed. "The problem we face, however, is that this Qunari elf was our servant. He worked for us."
"So the Qunari compromised us as well as Fen'Harel," Max muttered. "I wish I could say this surprised me. All the more reason why it's time for us to go, I think."
Cullen nodded unhappily.
"Vivienne and I would have wanted to keep the Inquisition active," Josephine said. "But this..."
Vivienne, who had not spoken until now, shook her head. "We cannot let the Agents of Fen'Harel or the Qunari use us for their own agendas."
"Anders is going to tell everyone in the General Assembly everything, I'm sure," Josephine continued.
"He has the right to do that," Cassandra pointed out. "Their heads of state were put at risk. National security could have been compromised all over the south. They have the right to know, and it is not our place to keep it secret."
Max put his notes on the table. "I'm sure the General Assembly is going to vote to declare war against the Qunari after this," he said. "And if this plan goes all the way to the top, the Arishok and the other two leaders, that must be done. But it seems that the source of the worst of it is this person called Viddasala, and we're going to find her and... deal with her." He pushed his notes forward.
Leliana picked them up and deciphered the scrawls quickly. She sighed. "Magic. That's their excuse."
"You believe it is just an excuse?" Cassandra asked.
"I misspoke. I think the Free Mages are a part of their motive, but not the entirety. I think this is also about the fact that our weapons—Kirkwall's rockets and Ferelden's arquebuses—can now exceed theirs in battle, and the fact that we have a secular body in the General Assembly where we are all trying to reach a consensus and forge a new path for Thedas. The Qunari do not want to see Thedas well-armed, magically powerful, and allied. Particularly if the values we are trying to rally around—the Declaration of Natural Rights—are so vehemently against so much of the Qun. During the Exalted Marches, the Chantry leashed the mages and controlled the dissemination of ideas, non-magical warriors fought with swords and bows, and the nations squabbled over everything. Thedas is changing radically, and this turn in our geopolitics is a grave, potentially mortal threat to them. That is what I think this is about."
"We have to track down Viddasala and take her out," Max insisted. "She's the mastermind of this 'Dragon's Breath' plot, at least."
"Of course," Leliana agreed. "We will deal with the General Assembly."
The Darvaarad was a dark, forbidding Qunari fortress. Max smelled vile, pungent chemicals, wrinkling his nose.
"I quite concur, amatus," Dorian remarked in a low voice. "This is foul."
"Something is wrong," Cassandra observed equally quietly. "I smell something else, something... familiar... but surely not..."
"What do you think it is?" Varric asked.
"Surely... there cannot be an actual dragon here?"
"Why couldn't there be?"
The question was answered at once with the shocking sight of, in fact, a dragon.
"It's been abused," Max said, appalled. The dragon was clearly in pain from whatever the Qunari were doing to it. It was screeching and twisting.
"You cannot save it, amatus," Dorian cautioned. "I know you have a soft spot for dragons—"
"I have a soft spot for anything that has been treated cruelly. Sometimes dangerous predators must be put down, I know, but this sort of treatment is wrong. But what are they trying to do with it? What role does this dragon play in their plot?"
Before anyone could investigate further, several Qunari guards finally spotted the intruders, and they fell under attack yet again. They had drawn their weapons and readied their spells when a familiar female voice echoed out: Viddasala's.
"Inquisition! Nehraa Ataashi-asaara meravas adim kata!" She glanced at Iron Bull, gaze hardening. "Hissrad! Now, please. Vinek kathas."
Dorian gasped. "'Hissrad'? But he—"
"Oh, shit!" Varric shouted. Clearly he understood that command too.
But Iron Bull merely gazed back at her. "Not a chance, ma'am." He raised his blade and beheaded an incoming Qunari soldier instead of betraying his friends.
The fight was brutal, hard, and unpleasant. More than once, Varric cursed the fact that he did not have an arquebus version of his spring-loaded crossbow. Max found himself fighting rather like a saarebas himself, since it was difficult to control the flow of magic from his foreshortened arm.
But finally, the Qunari attackers were all dead. Max wiped the sweat from his brow—the dragon's presence, as well as the heat of forging, had made this place unpleasantly warm—and turned to his friends. "Let's look around. We need to know what they have been doing with that dragon."
Varric was still cursing. "Slow, feeble bloody thing—if I can buy something from the Fereldans—if they'll sell—but of course they won't, not after the bloody Qunari were trying to steal from them—"
"Enough, Varric," Cassandra said firmly.
He sighed, shouldering the weapon again. "I'd call it 'Cassandra.' Or maybe 'Seeker.'"
She managed a smile.
Dorian had begun to investigate. "I think they were using the dragon's venom, or its blood... or both," he said.
"For gaatlok?" Max said, flabbergasted. "That's... odd..."
"Yeah," Varric agreed, returning his thoughts to the present, "I can't tell you what the formula is—don't want to be the next person Hawke beheads in the public square—"
"She wouldn't do that, Varric," Cassandra assured him.
"I'm exaggerating for effect," he drawled. "My point is, Hawke would be pissed. Even if not pissed enough to take the head of an old friend, she'd still be enraged. So I can't tell you what goes into our black powder. But I can tell you that we don't use any bodily fluids from a dragon."
"I would advise experimenting with it to see if it does produce additional force," Dorian mused, "except it's clear that it doesn't. It has the opposite effect, since your weapons can travel so much farther, and word is that your first explosion—the one that broke the Siege of Kirkwall—was like a thunderclap. The Qunari formula doesn't do that."
"I wonder why they use an ingredient that hurts the mixture?" Max wondered.
"If the Qun tells them they have to use it, they won't question that," Iron Bull said darkly.
Max sighed, turning back to the dragon. It wasn't even paying them any attention, it was in so much pain from whatever the Qunari had been doing to it. "Well—what are we going to do about this?"
"Leave it for now," Cassandra advised. "We need to find Viddasala—"
"Parshaara!"
"It looks like Viddasala found us," Dorian remarked as the Qunari woman stared them down.
Max was sick of this person. "Are you ever going to fight?" he spat at her. "Or just spout self-righteous dogma at us, then stalk off while leaving others to fight and die for you? Coward!"
She regarded them impassively. "Dear Inquisitor, it is time for you to face the truth. Elven magic already tore the sky apart. If the Agents of Fen'Harel are not stopped, they will shatter the world as well."
"Do you think we support the Agents of Fen'Harel?" he exclaimed. "They are our foes too, and if you hadn't decided to try to assassinate every head of state in Thedas who has something that you want, then we could have worked together against them. We sent an invitation to your people to join the Thedosian General Assembly," he said. "Two years ago. You didn't respond."
"Come, Inquisitor," she said. "I am the eyes and ears of the Qunari people. Do you think you can deceive me?"
"Can you really not tell the difference between being infiltrated and being knowingly complicit?" Max exploded. "What is wrong with you? Why is this such a difficult concept? Even if you imagine that the Qun cannot be infiltrated—and imagining is all that would be, if so—you send your spies to insinuate themselves into everything else! You sent Bull to us, until he switched his loyalty. That doesn't mean all the groups in which you plant your spies are deliberately complicit with the Qunari."
"You are complicit, Inquisitor, and you know it. You would have died from the mark that used to adorn your hand if not for one of the chief agents. The same agent who helped you seal the Breach, who led you to Skyhold, who gave Corypheus the orb, then helped found the Inquisition. Solas, agent of Fen'Harel."
Max gaped at her. So close, yet so, so wrong. He began laughing. Dorian joined in at once. The others just shook their heads, chuckling and smiling.
"You find this amusing?" Viddasala said. "This is funny to you?" She gazed at them angrily. "Solas tricked us all. He pushed a dying Qunari into the Halamshiral Palace, to lure you into opposing us. Without him, we could have brought the South peace and wisdom along a gentler path."
"The 'gentler path' of assassination and lethal blasts," Max scoffed. "The people of the South don't want the Qun. We are making our own way, and we don't need what you have to offer." He gazed hard at her. "The Dales recently refused to bow to an empress and emperor that they did not want. They forged their own path instead. Since you have forced this, we will follow their example, because we do not want the Qun."
"Children do not want proper nutrition, preferring instead to eat sweets, but that does not mean they should be permitted to do so."
"Children and sweets," Max scoffed. "Pathetic. The South is forging a new path, a path that is a profound threat to you, isn't it? In the Steel and Storm Ages, our mages were leashed, the Chantry kept knowledge and discovery locked down, we fought with primitive weapons, and our nations would start wars over nothing. We've evolved since then, and now you face a Thedas with free mages, weapons that are better than yours, free inquiry, and cooperation. And that threatens you."
Viddasala regarded them icily, and Max realized that he—and Leliana, whose ideas he was repeating—had gotten pretty near the bull's eye. She did not respond to this—they don't respond when they are defeated in debate, Max thought sourly—but instead changed the subject. "If it is of any consolation, Solas will not outlive you. I will deal with him, then you. The South will embrace the Qun." Then—to Max's utter fury—she stalked away yet again, disappearing into an eluvian that stood nearby.
"I," he began, trying to keep his temper, "am thoroughly sick of her. Once again, she talks, believing that what she spouts is so obviously correct and profound, then leaves without fighting. I have had enough—"
"Peace, amatus," Dorian soothed him, putting a hand gently on Max's shoulder. He felt some of the angry tension within his muscles dissipate. "We will get to her."
Max breathed deeply, feeling himself uncoil a bit. "All right." He pointed at the eluvian. "Let's continue this ridiculous chase, then. And I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not feeling too charitable toward the ancient elves, either. I vastly prefer roads to this. This mode of travel may be convenient in some situations, but unfortunately, one of them is a coward's quick getaway."
"Is she a coward?" Dorian wondered as they followed Viddasala's path. "I think she just sees us as utterly beneath her, not even worth fighting. At least not by herself. She'll dispatch her soldiers to do it, of course."
"Rather like the Evanuris must have seen their people," Max muttered. "It really makes perfect sense that Elvhenan had these things instead of roads, and why the Qunari are right at home using them. You can rest assured that the Evanuris and their courtiers could use any of these things, but the 'commoners' and slaves could not—and without roads, they didn't even have an alternate means of travel. They were stuck wherever their masters wanted them to be. You can rest assured that the lords of Elvhenan had maps and charts describing exactly what eluvian went where, but that they did not share this with anyone else. The more I understand about Arlathan, the worse it looks to me."
He subsided from ranting. He was furious with the whole situation, and he had fixed upon the ancient elven empire as a target of his rage. Taking another deep breath, he passed through the eluvian. This one led to a well-lit site with ancient elven ruins.
Qunari soldiers and saarebas guarded the site, but Max could catch sight of their quarry: Viddasala, but also Solas.
There was, to Max's great irritation, one last fight—one last expendable body behind which Viddasala attempted to hide, this time a saarebas who had been fed lyrium to amplify his native magic to an extreme, dangerous degree. But at last, he tried to use more power than he could safely control, and when he lost control of an attempt to put up a barrier around another eluvian, the spell consumed him instead. The Inquisition party passed through this final mirror and found themselves—at last, Max thought—facing Viddasala, who had nowhere else to escape.
"You are dead, Inquisitor!" she shouted. "Your soul is dust!"
Max suddenly recalled the words of another enemy, another time, another place. "Embrace the oblivion that is the fate of everyone in this fallen world if I fail, 'Herald.'" How familiar this is, he thought.
"Your friends have abandoned you," she continued ranting. "Now—"
Startled, Max whipped his head around. To his shock, he realized he was the only one who had gone through this last eluvian. What had happened to the others? Where is Dorian? For the first time in this misadventure, Max felt fear.
But only for a moment did he fear the Viddasala. In the middle of her rant, she suddenly turned solid, gray, frozen in place.
Something had turned her to stone.
Max grabbed his staff, looking around frantically, trying to find the source of this new devilry. Solas, he thought. It has to be—
Solas himself then emerged, an animal skin—wolf?—draped over his shoulders. His eyes were still glowing, just as they had done in the Crossroads two years ago when they first saw his half-form.
"Solas," Max said warily. He glanced at the statue of Viddasala. "Will she..."
"She and her followers will trouble you no longer."
Max took a deep breath. "Did you prevent the others from going through the eluvian with me?"
"Of course. I wanted to speak to you alone. I suspect you have questions."
Do I ever, Max thought wryly. He wished it could go back to the early days of the Inquisition when he and Solas were friends—when he basically trusted this elf, respected his knowledge without any complications—
He took a deep breath. It can't. I of all people know that. The past never returns. We march inexorably forward into the future and we have to live with that, as well as all the changes and new information it brings, or... not.
"Why do the Qunari believe you are merely an agent of Fen'Harel?" he finally asked. "Is that what you want them to think?"
"The Qunari reject myth and legend. If you told them of your meeting with Mythal, they would attribute it to a demon. They would think me insane if I said I was Fen'Harel. You know as well as anyone that some people will never believe anything except what they wish to believe, even if the truth is staring them in the face."
Max sighed again. "You're right about that," he admitted. "So—why? Are the 'Agents of Fen'Harel' truly yours?"
"They serve my goals, yes. Their beliefs are... incomplete."
"Incomplete? We think they want to kill everyone in Thedas except Elvhen!"
Solas covered his bald head with a hood. He faced outward, gazing at the sky. "Would you believe me if I said that this world must be burned away?"
Max considered his answer, despite the provocative words. "I do understand that sometimes the past must be set aside to make way for the future. But I don't think that's what you mean to do. At least not in the same way I mean it."
"Past, future—when you spend enough time in the Fade, these words lose their meaning. You saw a story told in the eluvian network."
"The liberator of the ancient Elvhen slaves," Max said.
"That is a story, as I said—a story like the one the Elvhen clans tell of a 'trickster god.' It gives me more credit than I ever deserved."
"I thought it was admirable," Max said. "Are you saying it's a lie too?"
"It is not a 'lie,' but it is not that simple. I sought to set my people free from slavery to would-be gods. That part is true. I broke the chains of all who wished to join me. The false gods, the Evanuris, called me Fen'Harel. I embraced the name, and when they finally went too far, I formed the Veil and banished them forever. But in so doing, I destroyed the world of the elven people."
"I saw beautiful things—that library, the mosaics, the art and architecture, the magic—but at what price, Solas? You know the price. The price was slavery and blood." He gazed at Solas pleadingly. "And it need not be so. Arlathan was built on the blood and chains of elven slaves. But we are building a new world, a world where we're heading toward equality, freedom, dissemination of knowledge without repression and censorship. We can build the beauties of Arlathan without the underlying misery and horrors."
Solas smiled. "You always were idealistic. But what you are building is a pale imitation of what was. It always would be, because of the Veil. You saw how the Vir Dirthara reacted to the sundering. It, and so many other wonders, were intrinsically tied to the Fade. All destroyed. And as long as the Veil remains, we can never recreate them."
That fits with Dorian's theory, Max thought.
"The elven legends of immortality? True. It was not the arrival of humans that caused them to begin aging."
Max could not listen to this in silence any longer. "It was an anomaly, Dorian and I think," he said. "An artificially created space where the power of magic was stronger than any other force. None of these things were natural, Solas. That's why they crashed down. You didn't raise the Veil over the sun, moon and stars. No one could have. So either it's not there—in which case, how can we see them, if we are Veiled and they are not?—or Elvhenan was an artificial place where the Veil was pulled down, to allow magic to be the strongest power."
"You speculate. It is... interesting, and I do respect intelligence, as you know... but you do not know that your ideas are true."
"Do you?" Max challenged. "Were you there for the founding of Arlathan? When the Evanuris were born? They created that space, Solas. They must have. It wasn't what Thedas originally was before there even were any people. It was a space that they made with magic, probably using the blood of the slaves that they murdered—the slaves that you fought to free!"
Solas turned aside. "The slaves that I fought to free, yes. My people. They fell for what I did to strike the Evanuris down. It does not matter what was 'natural' for Thedas. I destroyed their world, and in so doing, betrayed them."
"They survived, though. The elves of today are their descendants."
"They are not Elvhen. The true elven people lost everything. And I will bring it back, Inquisitor," he warned. "What I must do will tear down and burn away the world as it is, but it must happen."
"Then you'll just set the false gods free again? What's to stop them from enslaving the world all over again?"
"They will not be set free. They are banished forever for what they did."
"Which was what? We saw at the Temple of Mythal that she had enslaved the Sentinels. I watched as she stole the soul of another being! She brainwashed her own daughters into letting her possess them to extend her life! If the others were so much worse, what did they do?"
"They killed her," he said bluntly.
"But they didn't. She lives still in Flemeth."
"They meant to. They shattered her soul. She was a flawed being, Inquisitor, as you point out, but she was still the best of them. She cared for her people and protected them. She was a voice of reason."
"She was a slaver like all the others. We saw that. You saw that. Maker, Solas—"
Solas waved his hand in dismissal. "You do not know what she was in the days of her youth."
"I know what she left behind at her own temple. The Sentinels, bound to that place until they died. Died, Solas," he pointed out. "And the priests of Mythal, surrendering all that they were into that pool as they died. Did anyone have immortality except the Evanuris and their favorites? It looks like the immortality of blood mages, stealing the life of countless others!" Max faced Solas in desperation. "You were a liberator once. You don't have to do this."
Solas sighed. "You have always shown a thoughtfulness that I respected. It would be easy to tell you too much. I am not Corypheus, and I take no joy in this. But the return of my people means the end of yours."
"So," Max said, his heart sinking into his stomach, "you do agree with the agenda of those who call themselves your agents. This is genocide, Solas."
"I did not say it was a good thing. Sometimes only terrible choices remain."
"But why must this happen? Your people can find a place in this world."
"This world is dying every day. I raised the Veil to save the world from the Evanuris. I must now tear it down to save it again."
"If you murder everyone, you aren't saving anyone or anything. Who is going to rebuild that library, read its books, use any of this magic, if no one exists anymore?" Max stood up. "You think that you made a mistake in raising the Veil, but you did what you had to. Even if there were unhappy side effects." He raised his foreshortened arm. "I will never have a left hand again. That was an unhappy side effect of losing something that would kill me. Something that you, Solas, had to remove to save me. But I wouldn't want you to put the mark back on even if it would give me my hand back. I'm learning how to live this way instead. That's what we have to do, Solas, and it's what the world has done too. Maybe you 'cut off the hand' of the world to save it. But the world adapted. It found a way to endure. It is moving on and living. Don't kill it."
Solas smiled sadly. "This, my friend, is why I always respected you. You are smart and thoughtful, articulate and clever. You express your views very well, and they are well-thought-out. I just do not agree with anything that you are saying. I'm sorry it has to be like this."
"I am too," Max said, "but know this. I will do whatever I can to stop you. I would like that to mean simply changing your mind."
"I would treasure the chance to be wrong again. As I told you the night that you vanquished Corypheus, live well for whatever time remains to you."
Halamshiral.
Max returned to chaos. The General Assembly had just voted to declare war on the Qunari, the delegates enraged and terrified of what was happening. There were demands for Ferelden and VMTO to share the elven sending-stones with everyone else so that they could all have instant communication—so that word could be sent to Antiva, Nevarra, and elsewhere to investigate and destroy with water whatever gaatlok they might find.
"The Assembly is about to vote on the Declaration of Natural Rights too," Cullen told Max in a side room. "There are still some holdouts, but we expect the vote to carry."
Max was glad, but this seemed almost unimportant in view of the fact that someone literally intended to destroy the world once he found a way. "I want to be present for that vote," he said, "but after that, I need to speak with the inner circle. Alone."
Cullen's expression darkened. "I gather you found—him."
"Yes. And it's worse than we knew. But at least Viddasala is dead."
Cullen sighed. "Very well. The Assembly chamber is through this door."
The vote had indeed carried. Dorian, representing the Imperial Chantry, had cast his vote in favor of the Declaration. This went against official doctrine, so he fully expected to be sharply reprimanded when word reached Tevinter.
"You always have a place here," Max assured him. "You don't have to return to that if you don't want to."
"Amatus, I may be many things, but I am not a coward who refuses to accept the consequences of my choices."
"This was the right choice, and the consequences would be unjust."
"But I will still face them. I cannot represent part of Tevinter if I hide from Tevinter. In fact, I think you might be better off staying out."
"I dealt with an ancient, functionally immortal, Blighted magister who murdered his way into the Black City itself," Max said. "I'm not afraid of the ones in the Senate."
Dorian laughed. "Fair enough! We both want to protect each other, but in both cases, that sort of protection would mean abdication of duty and rejection of courage. And we both refuse to be cowards."
Everyone looked away as the two men shared a kiss in front of the whole table, but neither of them cared.
"But," Dorian collected himself as they broke apart, "you wanted to speak with us all?"
"Yes," Max said. "I have learned... quite a lot, and none of it is good." He took a deep breath and explained what he had learned from Solas.
Leliana sighed. "It is worse than I feared. Do you still want to disband the Inquisition?"
"I think it must be done," Max said. "We're too compromised. Fen'Harel was able to use us. The Qunari were able to use us." He gazed out at the people present, all his friends, people who had stood by him for two years as he—as they all—faced unthinkable challenges. "Solas lost the elven orb. That was supposed to be a tool, but he no longer has it. That thwarted his plans... for however long. I think we should take away another tool, the Inquisition. Recent events prove that it's been far more useful to him than to us."
"We have been caught flat-footed," Leliana agreed. "I concur, Inquisitor..." She smiled wryly. "As, it seems, I address you for the last time."
Max smiled back. "We return to what we were at the beginning: a small circle of friends and allies, united to save the world." He gazed at the map of Thedas that stretched across the table. "Solas knows too much about us, so we find people he doesn't know. We did not save the world and bring it into a new era of cooperation and advancement just for another ancient being to destroy it all." With his one hand, he picked up a knife and stabbed the map over Tevinter. "We will stop him. In respect for the friendship we once shared with him, I would like that to be by persuasion, but if he insists otherwise... so be it."
End Notes: And that's that. I don't know if anyone actually read this story on this site, but if so, I hope you enjoyed it.
The theories that Dorian raises about the Veil are my own, obviously. I'm sorry, but what we are told does not make sense, and I tried to put the words into his mouth to explain why it does not make sense and what might make sense out of it. There are also issues with there having ever been a naturally immortal race (elves) in a world with evolution, but I think they are closer to describing the laws of physics than the law of biology. People know what gravity and electricity are—they have magic spells with these names—even if they can't harness them yet. So this is my personal theory about the Veil.