Arturia springs up as consciousness returns to her. Her instinctive grip on Excalibur tightens as she stares at the dark stone wall before her, but no Alexius. 'What? Where-?'

She hears a gasp beside her and immediately brings out her sword at its source. Legs curl out and ready to leap out from the mattress she finds herself apparently on top of.

A dark-brown haired elf woman, laying against the floor on her knees, gawks at Arturia's sudden awakening and upon seeing the sword pointing towards her, she jumps up in fright.

"Sheathe your blade, my king!" She hears the voice of Excalibur. "Tis merely a harmless girl. Although, it is normal for one to be amazed at the presence of such glory."

Arturia lowers her sword, seeing the evidence in Excalibur's words by the sight of the clearly terrified elven girl. Nonetheless, caution still takes hold as she observes the elf rise up and flees from her current spot to the nearby door. "-S-She's awake! Master!"

'Master?' Arturia stands blanching as the elf woman quickly leaves the room, and the knight takes in her surroundings. She is no longer in the throne room of Redcliffe castle. A simple guest room it seems to be, with an elegant aesthetic of gray, green, and orange. Not a single Magister in sight, not even her own companions. The notion of this disturbs her and she at once removes herself from bed, standing up on her two feet.

'What's happened?'

She remembers Alexius pulling out an amulet, and then a flash of light. It is eerily similar to what happened at Therinfal Redoubt. If this is another Envy Demon dream scenario, Arturia will - to put it quite frankly - lose it. She has had enough mind games and is more than opted to tear down all the walls around her and face whatever foe that has put her here. But that would be unbefitting of a Once King. She instead calmly examines the room around her. Some bookshelves and other pieces of furniture. The overall decor of it all is rather unfamiliar, nothing that seems Ferelden or even Orlesian. Is she even still at Redcliffe?

'Have we been captured?' Arturia inquires before turning her head towards the closed door, sensing footsteps approaching this room.

'You'll find out soon enough from him,' Excalibur answers. 'I've been awake the entire time. It certainly has been an interesting experience - as you will soon know why.'

Before she could ask for an elaboration, the door to this room opens with an oddly dramatic flair. "Ah! Here you are! Glad to see you up and about already."

Dorian greets her with that pleasant smile of his, a large contrast to the tension and shout of desperation from before. A baffling sight for the mage to be so calm and comfortable considering previous events.

Another strange observation is his clothing. Instead of his white Tevinter outfit, as she had last seen him wearing, it is an intricate outfit of black and gold, like that a noble or someone in a high-ranking position would wear. She watches carefully as Dorian closes the door behind him and with a wave of his hand, seals it with magic. A ward-like transparent aura surrounds the room around them, and Arturia cannot help but feel wary. She sees that his staff is at his back, but other than that, there appears to be no armor on him - as if he wasn't about to step into battle a minute ago.

"There! Now no one will hear us. So feel free to talk as much as you like," Dorian informs triumphantly, clasping his hands together. "I'm sure you have several questions. Don't hold back on any of them."

Arturia's eyes narrow suspiciously as she examines the room once more. There is no window to tell what time it is, so she currently has no way to tell how long she had been out. Furthermore, Dorian appears too calm given what occurred recently, yet she can tell there is some lingering anticipation in his posture - something that seems to excite him.

Her first instinctive thought is that betrayal is at hand here. A hideously bitter ordeal that Arturia feels the urge to curse loudly. Blackwall may have been right about Dorian still being loyal to his kinsmen. Yet, she BARELY manages to restrain herself from outright raising her sword against Dorian. As much as she would like to jump into action, she re-evaluates herself and her environment.

For starters, Arturia is not in a holding cell. Furthermore, Dorian revealed himself to Arturia without the slightest precaution in his lack-of-armor outfit. No attempt to reach his staff. If he truly means to betray Arturia, it seems far too dangerous to let himself be so close to her unguarded.

By far her greatest evidence that Dorian has indeed not turned on her, or by extension the Inquisition, is the fact that Excalibur isn't commenting on it. Regardless of his whimsical annoying existence with baffling expectations, she would trust that he would be wise enough to immediately state treachery from Dorian. Instead, he subtly opts for her to hear him out. So, with that reasoning, it is clear that betrayal is not what is happening here. Perhaps her experience in dealing with traitors in her life constantly has made her rather biased and quick to distrust - "a bit too jumpy" she imagines Sera would say, though she believes it should never be a fault to be so cautious, which she is sure Leliana would approve of.

She considers asking what happened at Redcliffe, and the whereabouts of Alexius and their comrades. However, she must get a grasp of where she is now before she rushes to the next course of action. "Where are we?"

Dorian starts out slowly, as if he has been practicing his words for this specific moment for a good while, "Well, we're still in Thedas - if that's what you're wondering. But, my dear, it is not a matter of where. But when."

He walks towards one of the bookshelves in the room and smoothly pulls out what appears to be a piece of parchment. He then returns to Arturia and hands the parchment to her.

"Alexius tried to erase you from time all together, to keep you from ever reaching the Conclave. Luckily, I was able to stop him with a counterspell. There was a backlash that teleported us both to where we are now. We're still in Thedas, but not the Thedas neither one of us is familiar with."

Arturia reads the parchment in her hand.

She re-reads it several times, her draconic-gold eyes growing ever wider by the second. 'Is this...? This can't be.'

"We've traveled in time," Dorian states in sympathy, yet there is a sense of marvel at this fact despite not subduing the gravity of their situation, "Specifically, back to a time when the Tevinter Imperium ruled the world."

"What?" Arturia utters in astonishment, now understanding why the writing on the parchment seemed rather old. It is essentially an advertisement promoting a slave auction; descriptions and measurements of the slaves to be presented, with the date the auction will take place clear as day written on the top corner of the paper. For such a displeasing note to be so openly promoted with names and everything, including the location to be a public market of some kind, to be so open in its practice - Arturia could have sworn she must have woken to another world again.

"...We're in the past?" Arturia had thought it strange when she heard the elf woman call out for her master, obviously not as Heroic Servant, but a servant in another manner. Slavery is illegal in the south of Thedas aside from specific circumstances, so Arturia had believed she'd somehow been taken to Tevinter. But it seems it is much worse than that. Where she is now could still be considered Ferelden, except that its name wouldn't be cultivated until much later - let alone its state of independence, at least, according to Josephine's history lessons anyhow.

"That is correct. It seems to be just you and me here, as we were closest to Alexius, else I would have sensed the others be pulled into this era as well," Dorian informs, sounding as if to take it as reassurance.

Arturia won't argue against that. She knows better than anyone who isn't a Servant, to live in a time not her own, and having to hide that very fact or else her abnormal existence would be deemed a threat. She imagines how much her comrades would stick out like sore thumbs. She isn't entirely familiar with Tevinter culture, especially ancient Tevinter, but she imagines that most of the Inquisition members would not be able to blend in very well - possibly even get themselves killed.

"We were founded by a Tevinter Magister, and he is fully aware that we do not belong in this time period, but we are not in danger," Dorian asserts, "He's keeping us hidden in his residence until you and I can gather our bearings. He says he is willing to help us through this."

Arturia's eyes narrows once more, "Can we trust his good intent?"

Dorian flexes his hand as if to give a small shrug, "Considering that we are not currently being tortured and experimented on, I'd say let's give him the benefit of the doubt. We were unconscious at the time, and he could have taken advantage of that, but didn't. That's more than enough for me, and I'm grateful it wasn't any other manner."

A fair assessment. Arturia then gauges Dorian's new look, "I see that you have been rather preoccupied while I was out."

Dorian glances at his own fancy wear, offering a coy smile, "Take no offense. I wasn't indulging in luxury while waiting for you to come to - although, I have just learned how much the wine culinary in my time have severely deviated from the original potency our forefathers conducted." He sighs wistfully, "Truly, a treasure tragically lost in history, though I'm happy to report it has now been rediscovered! I would have brought the whole bottle, but our host is a bit wary that we may end up feeling delighted enough, that we would stay here permanently. Imagine the scandal that could bring to his home!"

"You jest, but this is no time for humor, Dorian," Arturia states sternly. "Alexius is still out there - wherever or whenever he may be. Our comrades need us back in Redcliffe." She pauses, and then reconsidered her words, "Although, the fact that we have traveled so far back in time, our conflict with Alexius has yet to pass." Not for at least another several hundreds of years perhaps.

"True, but do not mistake that as us having ample time now," Dorian warns, walking to the other end of the room at a nearby table and observing the magical trinkets lying upon the wooden surface. "Time is still being distorted as we speak. Even if we were to go back and stop Alexius from being born, the rippling effects would continue from where the first distortion appeared - in fact, any further altering in time would make matters worse."

A serious expression appears and is tightly worn by the Tevinter mage as he continues, looking at a small pair of figurines by what appeared to be a teacher and his student.

"Alexius has already altered events once by meeting Fiona before you, yet you clearly remember meeting her before he ever did. This contradiction is what's causing our time and reality to slowly rupture. The universe is attempting to make sense of it, but it can't. If he alters time again, it could potentially cause a collapse in reality. Too many changes conflicting with each other."

He looks back at Arturia, who stares right back at him in contemplation, giving her a moment to digest what she's learning before continuing with his explanation.

"If you were dead at the conclave, then Alexius wouldn't need to use that amulet to send you back from whence you would have died, therefore, preventing you to stop him from stopping you from stopping his plans to get rid of you - I know that was a mouthful, a bit difficult to understand, even for me. Time is rather complicated in theory, and full of complexities, but through all of the 'what-ifs' and 'possible futures', there must be a steady stream in order for our world to properly function. If two events that have no reasonable means to co-exist are forced to take the same current, the opposing forces of two different causes and outcomes would be too much for reality to bear."

Arturia looks away to the floor in deep thought. While it is a rather long-winded explanation, she is able to fathom its main points, and that led her to wonder heavily...

Her one wish was to go back and stop herself from pulling Caliburn from the stone, so that a much more worthy King would lead and save Britain. Yet, as she continues to live in this new world, far longer than she ever thought she would, she couldn't help but wonder: what if there wasn't another who could pull Caliburn? It is a brief idea that had previously passed her mind but she refused to see it. To turn her head away from that possibility. She cannot be the only one considered worthy, and yet...

What are the chances that even if someone else pulled out Caliburn, that they would lead Britain to that eternal happiness as she would have hoped? It's impossible to think someone corrupt would ever wield that sword, yet, if someone like her could do so, and yet she failed horribly, what's to say the same fate won't transpire with another person? What's to say that she would only cause her kingdom further destruction? Or worse yet, that she would willingly burden another soul with the heavy crown of being a king. They could not be weak if they were to pull Caliburn, and yet, she believed herself to have been so because she failed to save Britain. Ten years of peace is what she provided, though if she was truly worthy, why could it not be an eternal era of peace and happiness?

These obvious contradictions, the more she thinks about it, the more she is beginning to see the fragility and - deny as she may like - folly of her own wish.

"Such an act would be a mockery of all who fought with me!"

The words of Iskander once more rang in her head. He was wrong to suggest that she had abandoned her men, this is what she thought. And yet, had she not been ready to do just that? Arturia would often convince herself that it is for their future. For them. She would give up everything if it was for her people's sake.

But if she is to now closely associate herself with the people, rather than remain their distant protector, then it would be a conundrum to ignore any of her people - of Thedas' people own words, hopes, and worries. She remembered all the civilians, soldiers, and criminals she encountered. Their stories. Their struggles. Their reason for fighting. Their hope for a better future or their vocalized disparity for the unforeseen.

What would have happened to the people of Thedas had Arturia not arrived here? Would there have been anyone else to carry this mark in her hand, the only hope of sealing the Breach? If there were someone, would they also take heart to the people's woes? Or would they rule over them like a tyrant? Like the vision of a villain she once saw in a false mirror, within her dream granted by the Envy Demon. Is that truly what she had feared becoming? Or is that whom she feared someone else would become, had she not been forced into this role?

She cannot allow herself to imagine such a terrible fate. For someone to not care for the people here. To perhaps abuse them for the concept of a better future, or to see the Inquisition soldiers as nothing more than means to an end, as tools. Such a mindset belongs to the likes of her old Master, Emiya Kiritsugu. Had someone like him - or rather, had HE been the one to take Arturia's place here as Herald, he would not have led the Inquisition as any orthodox and kind leader would. He is a man who hates war, that much she understood from their time together, and yet he would embrace terrible means to achieve ending all wars.

He would have likely ignored Cassandra for her beliefs, just as he had with his Saber. He would have scorned Josephine's diplomatic means, or use it to his own advantage by betraying every promise she forged with allies he sees as future enemies. Josephine would have hated Kiritsugu, Arturia was sure of this. He would have likely encouraged Leliana to harden her heart, perhaps even quietly allow her to kill the traitor she uncovered in cold blood - due trial be damned. And as for Cullen, it was possible to be the same as Josephine. Kiritsugu would have seen the Templars as corrupted officials who needed to be purged, the instigators of their war with the Mages. He would have likely taken up on Cullen's offer to ally with the Templars, then betray his trust and the Templars by eradicating them. Although there were indeed corrupt figures amongst the higher ranks, the trust between Kiritsugu and the commander would have been destroyed beyond any repair.

Then there were Arturia's other companions. While she can't foresee how Kiritsugu would react to Solas, Arturia had a feeling that regardless of how Kiritsugu viewed Solas, Solas would never abide by Kiritsugu's mentality. It was even less so if Kiritsugu were to see the Mage Rebellion as equally responsible for the war as the Templars, and would have just as likely betray the Rebellion as he would with the Templars, if it meant killing two birds with one stone and ridding both oppositions, and the war between them would "end." The Mage Killer sympathizing with mages would certainly be a stretch.

He would have mocked Varric for his "glorification" of heroes. He would have seen uses in Sera's skills but never approve or tolerate her ridiculousness. Arturia can practically see how often Sera would hide a porcupine in that man's bed. Safe to say, the Red Jenny agent would never like Kiritsugu for his gloominess or sheer ruthlessness. Iron-Bull is likely the only member among the Inquisition who can get along with Kiritsugu, not shying away from brutality or discretion, yet Arturia could see clearly that although Iron-Bull was a spy on a mission, he not only respected but adored his members of the Bull's Chargers. Iron-Bull saw the Chargers as his equals, Kiritsugu would not.

He would view the Chargers as disposable pawns, regardless of whatever friendship he may have built with Iron-Bull. His relationship with the Iron-Bull would have likely been the same with Vivienne, but Arturia has an intuition that even though Vivienne is very familiar with necessary means within the courts, Kiritsugu's extremities would likely go too far for even the Enchantress, not to mention his willingness to destroy the Templars - a group Vivienne heavily supports. It would have been an teeth-clenching teamwork, mostly on Vivienne's part as Kiritsugu is the sort of man who wouldn't care who he works with.

Arturia can't imagine what Kiritsugu would do to Cole, and she would rather Cole stay far away from Kiritsugu. It's possible that Cole, with his impeccable emotional intelligence akin to mindreading - if that isn't what he can already do - would be too dangerous for Kiritsugu. Be it that he may attempt to kill Cole, or he would mold Cole into an assassin like himself. Cole is impressionable enough and has the means to be a devastating killer with his ability to move so undetected, and it was a haunting imagination not dissimilar to what would happen with Leliana. Arturia could almost say the same for Dorian, except Dorian is too quick-witted to be easily influenced. Despite Dorian going out of his way to help the Inquisition, Kiritsugu wouldn't trust him and would assassinate him as soon as Dorian's assistance was no longer necessary. As for Blackwall, it would have been the same as with Cassandra. Silence. A refusal to discuss with someone blinded by 'naive' ideals.

Kiritsugu would have been efficient, but he would have made all the Inquisition's members into monsters. The people would never see them as the hope they were supposed to represent. They would have been hated and feared. A man like Kiritsugu would never understand the importance of saving people's hearts, let alone the whole world. Perhaps that alone might be something both she and Iskandar can agree on.

As she reaches the end of her mulling, there was a knock on the door.

Dorian smiles that all too self-satisfied and self-important smile of his, a look that the King of Knights is quickly learning is his default expression, "It seems our host is ready to meet with you. Shall we?"

Arturia considers his request and then upon glancing at her Excalibur, willed it to disappear into gold dust.

"Fascinating..." Dorian utters at her display of magic, his gaze taking in each and every magic particle dissolving into the air, "You'll have to teach me that trick one of these days."

She then watches as he unsealed the magic in the door, opening it. Another magister is quickly shown from the other side, wearing an outfit Dorian currently dons - so possibly Dorian must have borrowed from this man's wardrobe, meaning that this man is the magister that took them both into his home. The newest arrival has a clean-cut black hair and a nicely trimmed goatee. His features are a bit similar to Dorian's aside from a paler complexion, Arturia would have thought him a relative if not for the remembrance of where or when they are.

The unknown man steps inside the room in haste, and without even stopping as he carried several tomes in his arms, he speaks to them, "Your friend here has put the fear of the Old Gods into one of the servants. That would have been my duty, but I'm as preoccupied as the next man - more so as I'm granting sanctuary to what our law would consider "criminals." Close the door, would you kinsman?"

Dorian does just that as the magister sets down several books, not once did he meet any of them in the eye as he focuses on opening the pages of each book. "I trust you have said everything need be? Has she caught on?"

"Undoubtedly so, dear distant uncle," Dorian replies with distinct cheer. He meets Arturia's swift surprised glance and he mouths "later" to her as he continues conversing with the magister, "Again, I must apologize for the unprecedented intrusion. It was neither of our intentions, I assure you."

"During any other time, I would have welcomed the change of pace," The magister states firmly, "Ask questions of what our future beholds, perhaps. But I'm not like most other magisters. The danger of such knowledge would potentially deviate the time that which both of you hail from, and from what I can tell, your world as it is needs you."

He lightly traces his fingers across the words of his tomes, "I've ordered the servants to not speak a word of your presence here. They do not know what I know. Our cover is straightforward - you, Dorian, are a nephew of mine from a distant cousin that has come on a small research expedition with your servant."

"Servant?" Arturia asks bluntly as she draws a much slower look at Dorian and finds a sheepish smile on him.

"Your appearance is a bit too foreign, according to my "uncle" here," Dorian explains hastily, hands up in defense against the unblinking stare directed his way, "Too young and even with a cloak, too physically capable to be a simple scholar, and your looks are too different from mine to pass us off as distant relatives. Apologies, but this is the only way for us to get by once we step out of this mansion, without posing too many suspicions. It won't be for long, I promise you, and we'll try to avoid the public as often as possible."

Arturia shakes her head gently and, to Dorian's surprise, she smirks in amusement, "I hold no offense. Forgive me, hearing that word brought a feeling of nostalgia in me. I believe fulfilling that role will be of no issue. It is not the first time I had acted as a servant to someone."

"Really? Now that's a story I'd be interested in hearing sometime soon," Dorian says, his expression practically bursting with questions of all kinds while he strokes his chin, observing his companion in a new light. "You don't strike me as someone who had been a slave, and I certainly would have recognized it if you were from Tevinter."

"Slave may be too strong of a word," Arturia answered, inwardly cringing from the word.

"A slave to her own ideals."

Such a word brought back unpleasurable memories. "I would prefer it if you prohibited yourself from referring me as such. It may be rather... complicated to explain it all. For now, let us focus on our objective in returning to our time."

"Fair enough, but I will be holding onto that curiosity of mine," Dorian promises with a playful wink and then returns his attention to the amused-looking magister that has taken them in. "Perhaps a proper introduction is in order? That way, our cooperation will be better set."

"Very well then. I am Magister Remerien Pavus."

The magister reveals, making Arturia's eyes widen as she turns her head towards Dorian, who has his own eyebrows raised in a knowing manner as if to say, "I know, right? Can you guess how I reacted when I first heard it?"

The now-named Remerien finally turns from the table to look at his guests directly, "I am aware that the two of you are from the future. Fear not, I have no desire to force your secrets to be heard, though this cannot be said the same for others. It is pertinent that you keep this to yourselves - for other magisters or such do not hold the same restraint as I. They would force you to yield information and alter any events of the future to their liking, meaning eternal suffering for the two of you. I acknowledge that your anomalous arrival means there is a cataclysmic event you must either prevent or adhere to. Be as it may, while it must never be for either of you to stay forever, less we have a time-loop on our hands, know that you may not be returned to your era immediately."

He picks up two tomes in each of his hands as if he had been accustomed to carrying several all at once. He then hands them over to the knight and the mage respectively. "To repeat the method of your arrival could be costly. I will unearth all my available resources to best aid you both, but this will take time. Until then, that we find a way to send you both from whence you came, you must study yourself to blend in amongst the rest of society of this era. There are many materials we must acquire to return you to your journey - and they can be gathered in due time once we leave this mansion tomorrow. For now, you must learn the social etiquette of this day and age. Your dialect, for instance, is abnormal. As well as your mannerisms."

Remerien points to Arturia, the knight straightening her back at his intense focus, "You, in particular, would never pass off as any native of Tevinter - especially with those eyes of yours. It would be even more difficult to explain how someone as young as you are would roam so freely. Being a student of Dorian would have probably sufficed, but having to explain Dorian's own talents despite never being heard of within any of the local magister schools or higher echelons would be too complicated to fabricate. Therefore, you must project yourself into the role of his servant - it is simpler that way. I admit, I'm curious as to how much the system has changed in your time, judging by your brief commentary on our custom, but I digress."

Arturia bites her tongue, being seconds away from retorting that slavery should never be considered a custom, but she doubts that he would be able to completely fathom it. They are from completely different eras with completely different mindsets. She at least appreciated the man's own manners; his directness refreshing to witness.

"As for you Dorian," Remerien continues on, turning his gaze to the mage, "While you resemble many of our customs, there is a subtle difference in your mannerisms that others might catch. We will exercise on that before we go to the marketplace."

"Understandable," Dorian states with a nod, then curiosity enters his eyes, "Is there truly a way to help us return to our time? From my understanding, not even the great magisters of this era were able to achieve time travel."

"You are correct," Remerien answers, "What we have are theories, concepts, failed lists of experiments after experiments - which is why the fathom that you have done what not even our elders could accomplish is extraordinary, and, quite frankly, terrifying. It is among those theories that I've written some of my own, though I would never dare to actively utilize them, concluding that the consequences were too dire, and advocated for the project to be abandoned - of course, this fell on deaf ears. There are already many of us with the misguided ambition to enter domains no man should ever enter."

Dorian's face twists into a deep frown, and Arturia knows what he has to be thinking of. The tale in which the Magisters of the Tevinter Imperium attempted to invade the Maker's domain with the Fade, the Golden City. It is a story like the Tower of Babel; humanity attempted to build a tower to claim glory by reaching Heaven, like a conqueror upon seeing new land...and everybody paid for this arrogance into the modern day.

"I wish to express in more detail, but I have a feeling that you will unintentionally reveal a clue as to how those works turned out in your time, and I may be compelled to act on it. Best I keep the details close to heart," Remerien said decidedly. "Now then, returning to our main discussion at hand, while the theories I've brought here-"

He waves over to the desk of piled books, "are simply that, your presence here could compensate the missing element."

He returns to the desk and starts to compile several notes together, "By being from the future, if we construct a gateway using your presence here as our beacon, like a light calling to a distant ship in a shrouded sea, we may be able to unlock your era and send you to it. In other words, your era will pull you back to fix the imbalance of this escapade. However, there are no guarantees, and I cannot predict what the outcome of failure, or even its success, may lead."

Dorian looks at Arturia, and a silent agreement is passed between them as they both nod. "We will accept the risks. Prolonging our stay here could mean even more disastrous consequences, for both our worlds," Arturia answers on both of their behalf.

"Then may the gods guide us through this endeavor," There is a brief glance from Remerien to Arturia's hand, where the Mark is concealed, and Arturia instinctively clutches her fingers at his attention to it.

Rather than comment on it, Remerien then sets out for the door once more. "I'm sure your trip here had been exhausting. The servants should have dinner set by now, feel free to join me if you seek it. We will begin your lessons soon after."

"It would be an honor," Dorian lightly bows as the magister left the room. Arturia takes one last look at the couple of books the magister gave to her, holding them tightly. She takes a deep breath to calm her worries before following Dorian out of the room.

"...Don't worry."

She hears Dorian from ahead speak as he looks over his shoulder to her, a more serious yet empathic expression on his face than his usually more pompous one. "You have my word. We will return home. I swear it on Maker's will we would."

It is evident that Dorian is trying to reassure her. Perhaps Arturia's concerns are that obvious? Yes, Arturia is indeed very worried, not only for her companions, of Alexius, of the Elder One or of the Breach, but that this is not the first time Arturia has woken up to a new world where the thought of a permanent stay is not immediately comprehended.

She prays to God it will not be the case for this one as well.

Yes, food will be good to have. To push down her creeping anxieties, and also because she is VERY hungry. She hopes the Magister Pavus has an ample supply of meals by the time she finishes tonight's dinner.


It is after dinner - and the awe in everyone's eyes as they observed the knight's appetite practically clear every served dish - that Arturia and Dorian begin their studies. Dorian practically devours as much knowledge of ancient Tevinter as Arturia had for this night's dinner, with him unable to contain the amount of questions he has and Remerien looking rather pleased to answer them. The attention then turns to Arturia and practicing the knowledge she as a servant should pose.

Being a servant of a secluded noble - as that is the cover of Dorian during their stay in this age - her knowledge shall be as substantial as Dorian would want her to have, which they can utilize however they like. An educated servant ought of the kindness of Dorian's heart, but still abstained of many rights.

Example A: she is not to speak publicly unless Dorian commands her to.

Example B: she is to wear a symbol dictating her status as a slave.

Example C: she must always introduce herself with the surname of her master; which in this case would be the House of Pavus.

Judging by the magister's nonchalant mentioning that they'll have to act convincingly family enough, it would appear that Dorian has not mentioned to Remerien of sharing the same surname. Perhaps to avoid any complications, it will be best to keep this fact a secret.

"We should also discuss the possibility of your origin being questioned," Remerien goes on to bring up, regarding Arturia, "Many of our citizens bear their slaves as they bear their jewelry. Your appearance would most certainly draw attention and those eyes...they're not usually like that, are they?"

Arturia hesitated in answering, unsure how the magister will respond to it. To her relief, he dismissively waves his hand, "Disregard that. The less I know, the better, I'm sure. In any case, those eyes are the very reason why no one would take you as Tevinter. I would cast magic to hide those colors, but your body seemed rather strangely immune to magic - as I've discovered when I attempted to evaluate your body for injuries."

In spite of that, Arturia is rather thankful of her magic immunity, otherwise, he might have uncovered the magical mark on her hand, or worst, the inhuman markings on her body itself. Such findings could lead him to pose several questions despite his earlier assurance to keep ignorant of their timeline, and to answer them would threaten to expose details of the future, let alone question her own humanity that he may yet turn her over to the authorities. Dorian seems to trust this man, but Arturia is not as certain, even if both men seemingly share the same sense of honor.

"If anyone were to question," Remerien continues, pointing to Arturia, "say that you are the product of a human father and an elven mother. Half-elves have the same minimal rights as full-blooded elves, and are thus deemed as slaves upon being born even if their human parent was of high ranking. Never mind the scandal it would bring even if the child was acknowledged."

Arturia nose flares as she struggle to contain her anger over such an injustice declaration. She at the very least has a choice to swing her sword in service to others, but infants could not conceive such notions nor sacrifice. It is deplorable, just as it is so that slavery continues to persist even in the time she is displaced from. Of course, there is the politics to consider why such a system remained in place, let alone the consequences to advocate against it completely, and that's not even touching upon the Mage-Templar War.

She briefly looks at Dorian. Being a man from Tevinter, she wonders what his thoughts are on the circumstances of the mages fighting for independence, having come from Tevinter himself? Perhaps she should ask him when the opportunity presents itself.

"Now for your markings. Elven slaves adorn permanent symbols among their features as a display of their status."

This catches Arturia by surprise as she pauses her writing notes - an action very reminiscent of when she paid close attention to Josephine's lectures.

"Truly? Are those tattoos not religious markings of the gods the elves worship?" Or at least, according to a brief reading of elven lore Josephine made a swift comment of - Vallaslin those markings were called.

Remerien blinks in surprise when Arturia states this. "Is that what they have come believe about them in your time? Oh dear me..."

Dorian looks just as rightfully perturbed by this revelation, "If I'm correct, in our time, the elves wore their markings as a symbolic gesture in preserving their culture...oh dear indeed."

Someone ought to tell them. Of course, Dorian does not volunteer, as he very much like to keep his life should he ever bring up such a blasphemous truth.

"I doubt they would want to hear it now, in our era," Arturia interjects carefully, reading the conflict in Dorian's expression, "I'm not at all too familiar with elven culture, but if someone were to come up to me and tell me that my practice in my beliefs were in fact wrong or mean another way that stands against what I stood for, I can promise you that I would not take kindly to that."

"You've essentially described politics," Dorian japes.

"Pleasant as always to hear that has not changed, even after many centuries," Remerien cheekily joins in, gracefully picking up a small bottle of ink. "The practice of marking slaves is a painful procedure. I would rather you not undergo that, so we'll simply paint your features. As long as no one tosses water at you, you should be able to pass off as a Pavus servant. We'll save this for tomorrow, now, returning to our lessons-"

For the rest of the evening, Arturia and Dorian continues their studies to familiarize themselves with the world they're in now. All the while, the troubled feelings remain in Arturia as she hopes to keep herself distracted by jotting down notes, though it was only a matter of time - as always.


Nighttime comes upon them, but Arturia is not in any mood to sleep. Rather than lay in her bed idly in hopes for fatigue to claim her, she stands at the center of the room from where she first awoken into this ancient era and started swinging her sword. A simple quick motion of moving her weapon up and down, a light exercise that built up a minor sweat.

"Keeping yourself worked up as usual, I see." Her Excalibur intones.

Indeed. It is a habit of hers whenever turmoil thoughts runs through her head. To even sleep after realizing that she is in another era is rather strange. She knows that there is no use feeling constant unease, but she can not help it. How can she sleep? For what happened with the Envy Demon, being pulled into a living nightmare, and now this, flung back to ancient time, uncertain for how long she will be here.

"I wish to keep myself vigilant," Arturia answers numbly. "I find it shameful that I let myself fall for another trap. Despite these new powers..."

"No one could have predicted what Alexius had under his sleeve. Desperate men act just as much, and often unpredictable."

She is at least thankful that none of her other companions were pulled into harm's way. Technically, they're safe considering that they aren't even born yet at this time. Including Alexius, one of the sources of their troubles and the reason for putting her and Dorian here. Even so, Arturia cannot shake the feeling to take advantage of her current predicament.

Despite Dorian's warnings, Arturia is very much flirting with the temptation of making decisions that aren't only catered towards going back to their era - or forward in this case. So many tragedies she's read through Josephine's lectures in history. So many events that could be prevented. Of course, Arturia is far too into the past for her to personally stop those events such as Divine Justinia's death and the formation of the Breach, among many other things. Theoretically though, if she were to leave writing of some kind somewhere - on stone, long-lasting parchments, or anything, she wonders if someone who can discover them later down the line would be able to act on her warnings? To prevent so many casualties and devastations...

If Magister Remerien is to be trusted, and considering how good-heartedly he is taking to NOT know what they know, all so that he can help preserve their timeline the way that it is, for fear of destroying it, then maybe he is perhaps trustworthy enough for Arturia to leave information of the future. For him to pass this information onto the next trustworthy associate, and have it all accumulate into preventing the Breach from ever existing.

But that will also mean to disregard the repercussion of their already distorted timeline. Even so, Arturia feels unable to truly let this go. It seems that despite not being able to achieve her wish, she still desires the means of it. If she cannot save her kingdom, then at the very least, she can attempt to save this world's future.

There is a knock on the door. Arturia ceases her exercise with a small huff of breath and goes to open it.

"Pardon the intrusion, dear Herald." Dorian stands there in the hallway, dressed in comfortable black, silky sleeping wear. "I was on my way to my room when I heard a distinct sound of the air being sliced and the mansion rumbling as if threatened to be cleaved in half. I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get much sleep, so I figured I stopped by to chat a bit. Seems like you aren't planning on resting any time soon either."

Feeling chastened that such a noise could be distinguished - and hiding the barest of her blush - Arturia allows Dorian entry and the mage made his way to a nearby cushion chair of nice decor and curved frames.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to cause any disturbance," Arturia apologizes. Before offering any excuses, Dorian waves idly.

"Oh never mind that. You still owe me a tale. It's partially why I've decided to stop by," Dorian claims with an air of concerned composure as he made himself comfortable in his seating, resting on leg over a knee, sitting as if awaiting for gossip in a slumber party to officially begin. "I wish to know more about the enigmatic Herald of Andraste. Especially considering who knows how long we'll be here."

Biting down the tension of that unnerving possibility, Arturia closes the door and walks towards one of the other available seats near Dorian. "Very well, though I can't promise I'll be forthright with everything. In return, however, I would also like to know more about you."

"Who wouldn't, considering the fact that I'm quite the marvel myself? Still, if you don't mind, I'll start with the questions," Dorian begins, leaning in from his position in a way that looks as if he is about to be told the most dirty of secrets, "Was it ever a dream of yours to one day lead an entire armada of Southern warriors and mages alike to sew the sky back together?"

Starting with an icebreaker it seems. Arturia mildly smirks as she rests against her seat. "It wasn't planned, I can assure you. I can't imagine anyone being able to dream of being in the position I currently occupy."

"Nothing ever is planned in the world we live in," Dorian notes in a strange sort of way, as if knowing this by experience, "Still, I'm rather curious how you stumbled upon that role nevertheless. The stories I hear are all rather amazing, I find myself wondering what was true and what might be exaggerated. I don't mean to diminish any skills you might possess, it's just that I hear from others about you having the face of a lion, seven-feet taller than a Qunari, even hiding a lizard's tail, that sort of thing."

"I suppose some stories and legends do have a tendency to overdramatize the details," Though Arturia cannot fathom in the least where that lizard tail description came from. Might be another one of Sera's pranks most likely. "To start with, the role was given to me after seeing the people needed help. Seeing all the casualties and disorganization after the Conclave's destruction, the death of the Divine, and the desperation to unite the land as demons invade from every corner. I couldn't simply bear to stand aside. I was hesitant, truthfully, but I couldn't ignore their pleas. Especially when I alone hold the key in sealing the Breach and banishing all the demons."

She looks at her concealed marked hand, remembering when she first arrived in Thedas. The confusion that still holds her, but nothing that would keep her from hearing and seeing the senseless violence and misery all around her. The deaths of soldiers and the fears of commoners. A state of true chaos that her own country had suffered from.

"That may be so. You are quite the noble spirit, I can tell. Still, you must have been put under a lot of pressure, especially for someone as young as yourself." Dorian inquires.

"The work is hefty, and ceaseless, but I do not mind them," Arturia states flatly, "Though I am used to being burdened with many responsibilities, I owe many of our accomplishments to the members of the Inquisition. Without them, I would have been lost from the start. Helping everywhere I could, but no clear direction."

A lost knight who would have known nothing about the world she is now in.

"And what of your life before that? Have your family taken well to your journey as you set out to save the world?"

Arturia does well to hide her emotions upon the subject matter, and instead, turns the question back onto him, "I believe it is my turn to ask about you. It's apparent that although we agreed to work together, I know next to nothing about you."

"Other than being a mage from the dreaded, blood-soaked lands of the Tevinter Imperium?" Dorian smirks slightly, gesturing at himself as if this is a presentation for all to gawk at, "Charming, well-dressed, and cleverer than most, which is obvious to anyone even if they were dumb, deaf, and blind."

A slight smile makes itself known on Arturia's face, "That may be so. Though I hear one's reputation has a tendency to be exaggerated."

"Touche. Although you might be disappointed to find that no, Tevinters don't all secretly carry devil horns, as much as southerners may like to believe." He leans back into his chair, "Well let's see. Where to begin? I am the Scion of the Altus-class House Pavus - something which dear uncle here has not yet realized, and I'm sure you can understand it would probably be better to let it stay that way. I'm also a product of generations of careful "breeding," and the repository of House Pavus' hopes and dreams."

He then swats his fingers at his statement while still keeping a positive tone, "Naturally, I despised it all: the lies, the scheming, the illusions of supremacy. That's the Tevinter Imperium in a nutshell, and I won't say that some of the assumptions made towards my people aren't entirely unfounded, though still rather narrow-minded. Needless to say, my family was not happy with my choices."

Arturia appeared thoughtful as she listens to Dorian. "Careful breeding, you say? I imagine that must mean you have strong magical ties through your families - those of the best magical cir- er, systems, I mean?"

She recalls Irisviel's mentioning of magus families desiring to marry into those with impressive magical inputs, their circuits. It is especially crucial when magus families' own magic circuits were slowly depleting, and they needed to sustain their bloodline somehow.

"You would be correct." Dorian suddenly looks bitter and Arturia wonders if she should offer the man a drink. "The great families of Tevinter don't have children. They refine traits, weed out the undesirable, and promote the rest. My mother was chosen for my father because magic runs strongly in her blood. Never mind that they loathed each other."

"It must have been a difficult household to live under," Arturia offers her sympathies, whatever that does.

"Not as difficult as it must have been for my parents," Dorian replies lightly, though the underlying resentment undermines the attempt to sound flippant. He then stands up to approach a table that has wine and glass the servants have left earlier today for Arturia. After asking for permission which Arturia grants, the knight watches as the mage pours himself a glass of wine as if talking about his family is something he needs to be a little more than drunk to stay on such a topic.

"They wanted a son who could become Archon, to make House Pavus the envy of the Imperium," Dorian raised his red-filled glass to his lips and drank slightly, a sigh leaving him, "They got me: a cautionary tale that you should be careful what you wish for."

Curious as to what that implies, Arturia asks next, "Your family does not approve of you coming to Thedas?"

Instead, however, she gets the unexpected answer of a quick raise of the hand as Dorian wags his finger.

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Now it's my turn to ask," He goes to sit back down, "I've told you of my family woes and issues, now it's time to hear yours, and if there aren't any, I'm going have to express my jealousy over it."

In spite of his earlier bitter tone, the humor returns in full force to Dorian as he awaits expectantly for Arturia to answer.

Arturia takes a moment to gather her thoughts, deciding to go with the story she told Sera and Vivienne, a symbolic truth concealed within a reasonable lie. Although she is at a point where perhaps keeping this a secret any longer seems unnecessary at this point, she can't really find the right time to tell it, especially if she is to avoid everyone's immediate suspicions that she may in fact be a demon in disguise if she is believed to have come through the Breach itself. The eyes aren't certainly going to help her case.

"I grew up on a farm," Arturia starts off almost automatically, as if on routine, "I learned most of my skills from my father. Fishing, tending the crops. He taught me many things - honor, strength, diligence, and compassion. My mother was...not in the picture, and I had my brother whom I sometimes enjoy competing with."

"It sounds like you've lived a very quiet and humble life," Dorian notes, "Bah. I knew I was going to be jealous of you."

"We were a close family, true," Arturia continues, before turning serious, "But it was not a peaceful life always. There was...a war that occurred, and our land was in constant disarray because of it."

"I assume you're talking about the war between the mages and templars?"

Arturia pauses for a moment, and then Dorian stands back up again, "I think you might need this drink as much as I do. You won't regret it once you try it."

He suddenly stops just as he grasps the wine bottle and looks back at her, "You are able to drink, right? Or is there a certain age-restriction in the southern regions that I should know about?"

There are a few times when Arturia would just love to forget that she actually looks like a fifteen-year-old girl. Arturia shakes her head, "I can drink just fine..." She pauses and then adds, "I've never gotten around to telling anyone my age yet, anyhow."

"Well, I should probably act like the responsible adult here," Dorian muses as he already starts pouring the wine into a new glass, "Then again, I was about fourteen when I had my first sip of wine. Not even in secret, as my family wanted to teach me proper etiquette at the table."

"Most would consider that enviable," Arturia notes acceptingly as she recalls the many times her own adopted father refused her heavy wine, thinking it was for her to drink when really she needed it to cook.

"Yes, well, most don't have to suffer a hangover the next day. Not that I'm complaining, I do enjoy the taste of it, as long it be done responsibly," Dorian then hands the filled glass to Arturia and returns to his seat.

"Another lesson my father had taught me," Arturia states as she looks at her red reflection within the glass. "When I was proven able to lead a farm of my own, lead many workers of my choosing, I had to protect everything from various threats - wolves and such."

She frowns, "I was...unable to protect it for long. There was an insurrection, and the farm ended up destroyed. I...wanted to rebuild it somehow, and so I opted to find a way to restore it. I once hoped I could undo it all, give another the opportunity to lead it. But then, the war..."

Arturia would rather not use the Mage-Templar war as a cover for her true history, feeling it more than disrespectful towards the many senseless and unnecessary deaths that came about it, so she would do well to avoid ever connecting herself to it in any manner, especially as there would rarely be anyone to claim true to her story.

"As I hoped to restore my home, I served someone while trying to survive through that war. We were a small and separate party of our own, neither mages nor templars, but we essentially worked towards a common goal, for a brighter future to help those from suffering any further, even though we as people were incompatible. I did not mind the distance, but his methods to achieve his own goal were too cruel for me to stomach. In the end, he betrayed me, and I ended up in the care of what we know now as the Inquisition."

"...How did you end up at the Conclave?" Dorian inquires tactfully with sympathy and pity in his voice, forgetting their deal in taking turns to question. Arturia did not mind this, however, and simply answers.

"I wish I knew. I still have no explanation as to how or what pulled me there. I remember a bright flash of light. I then find myself in a dream, or nightmare of some sort, and then I woke up in chains and soldiers surrounding me. Cassandra and Leliana were there, with Cassandra acting as both my judge and executioner with the belief I had something to do with the Conclave's destruction."

"Ah. That must have been a rather unpleasant situation to wake up to," Dorian jokes, taking a sip of his wine. "Thank the Maker you still have your head."

Arturia couldn't stop the slight grin from growing across her face, "I'm sure I would have reacted the same as she did, especially after such a devastating experience. Answers were something everyone sought for, and to their conclusion, I appear to be that answer. I do not know what called me to that place, but although it had been a rather disorientating experience, I'm glad to have met the people I have grown rather close to."

"Hmm. Yes, I could tell that much. You have quite a number of companions looking out for you," Dorian states. Then, all too suddenly, the most devious of looks came, "Especially when it comes to that Seeker of yours. I've noticed you spoke rather fondly of her even after telling me she was about to kill you."

Arturia senses the mage's tone and swirls the wine in her glass, taking a small drink from it, "I'll admit, while our introduction was not the best, she has since become someone I consider a dear friend. Her judgment. Her morale-"

"Her looks I take it?"

"Hck!"

Arturia chokes on her drink as Dorian snickers teasingly at the knight. The blonde loudly coughed into her hand before forcing herself to gain back her composure. Sitting up straight and acting as if she hasn't just reacted that way just now, cheeks growing increasingly red by the second.

"I-I do not know what you are implying, Dorian Pavus."

"There's no shame in having a little crush on someone, especially when it comes to someone at your age." Dorian reassures, a soft hint of understanding that Arturia nearly misses. "For me, I couldn't care less, but you won't have to worry. I won't tell a soul. Granted, you're still young, and I'm uncertain if that woman even likes the company of other women - although you're going have to wait some more years before asking, but it does at least give you an insight into what you want."

Clearing her throat once more, Arturia gives a little sigh, "I may have...perhaps a bit of admiration towards her. Personally speaking, I could go for either men or women-"

"You say that as if you've grown into your preferences already!" Dorian cannot help but crow, and Arturia has to bit down the urge to throw her glass at him, a small angry vein emerges on her temple before she wills herself to calm down.

"But regardless," Arturia continues with a cursed higher pitch to her tone of voice, "I had to keep my preferences to myself due to...public opinion. I haven't even told my own family."

"Ah yes. Good ole public "opinion," the Chantry's views, and that "everyone has the right to choose except when it's wrong" sort of thing," Dorian takes a gulp of his wine and Arturia also takes a swig of her glass. They both sigh, coming to a total silent agreement on the fickle basis that is politics.

"I believe I overheard Cassandra having past lovers being men," Arturia discloses idly, sounding rather wistfully that she feels the wine is also doing its work on her. She gazed up at the ceiling as she rests her back against the support of her chair, "I could pass on as a man, if such magic exists somewhere on Thedas."

If Merlin were still here he could help her with that, having done so in the past when hiding her true identity. "I don't wish to deceive her by doing so though," she proclaims firmly, "and I don't expect to admit my feelings in any case, and I am content with that."

"Now don't you go changing yourself for someone else's approval," Dorian scolds with a spin of his pointed finger, much to the knight's surprise, and may be also hearing a bit of a slur in his speech. Good heavens, this wine really is strong and quick in its effects.

"You're still so young," The mage continues, rather gently yet supportively as if hoping to hammer it in towards home, "Boys or girls, there may come a time when someone will accept you and love you for who you are. Never try to force yourself into something you're not, especially if it could harm you. Granted, if you feel as if you're a man deep down and a woman out, that's another story entirely. But all the same, you should find someone who will treat you right. And if they can't accept you for who you are, then - with all due respect - to hell with them."

He finishes his spiel with a brief raise of his glass over his head and then sloppily downs the last remaining bit of wine in his drink. Arturia blinks rapidly at Dorian's rather passionate speech, and raises her glass slightly as well.

"Amen to that," She also finishes her glass empty, suddenly feeling the late night exhaustion creeping on her. "I thank you for stopping by, Dorian. I was a bit on edge after what's happened today, but I feel better now. Our situation hasn't changed, but it eases me that I'm at least not alone in this."

"I thought you might feel that way," Dorian replies, incidentally, confessing his true purpose for stopping by. "It's also the least I could do after convincing you to spare Alexius. He's done many wrong things, but I still wish to save the good man that remains in him."

"You are a good man yourself, Dorian," Arturia compliments, setting down her glass on a nearby table. "A loyal and honorable man. I had my doubts about you, but I'm glad to see them unfounded."

"Mmm. Yes, I imagined you wanted to skewer me the moment you first saw me walked right into this room without a care in the world, and in that flashy attire," Dorian correctly guesses with another one of his classic smirks. "I'm glad to have earned your trust for you not to. I find myself liking you a bit, so I hope for this to be the start of a long-lasting friendship."

For the first time tonight, Arturia smiles genuinely, "I wish for the same as well."

They talk a bit more, sharing a few more details of themselves and their lives, then when it becomes clear that the need to slumber is upon them, Dorian bid Arturia a good night, and Arturia returns it in kind.

Closing the door on his way out, the knight then retreats to her bed, where she is not comfortable, yet resolute all the same, to get her night's sleep.

For there is work to be done tomorrow.


The next day arrives.

Arturia has been given an outfit borrowed by one of Remerien's servants - slaves, if one is willing to be more realistic - while Dorian once more wears the noble attire of House Pavus from this day and age.

The blonde knight is then reintroduced to the elven girl she met and frightened yesterday, given the task to assist Arturia in painting the Vallaslin brand - if that's what is even called during this time period. Seeing how fidgety the elven girl is around Arturia, the knight takes this opportunity to apologize for her previous reaction. The elven girl seems surprised by this, then relaxes, stating that it's been forgiven and that Arturia seems and sounds just as kind as her master is. How low of a bar that must be is something Arturia has yet a complete inkling of, but the knight has a feeling she'll soon find out the moment she steps out of this mansion.

There is a brief discussion as to what sort of markings Arturia must adorn. It would have been easier to match with the other servants, but according to Remerien, every ownership is distinguished with different slave markings, even among the same family. After some contemplation, with the preference to draw something that is simple yet distinct enough for her to look the part, Arturia is reminded of another set of symbols; proof of status in the Holy Grail War, not for Servants, but for Masters.

She requests a piece of parchment and ink pen, and draws her idea on paper. Upon seeing it, Remerien determines it to be satisfactory enough, and allows the elf servant to mimic the drawing on Arturia's face while he leaves the room to pick out his traveling bag. The face painting is done in no less than five minutes. Over one of Arturia's gold eyes, the deep-red symbols of a sharp sword are painted against her skin, reaching from above the eyebrow, down to her chin.

"What an interesting design," Dorian casually comments on from his spot in the room, "Where have you seen that? Or did you make it on the spot?"

Arturia looks at the familiar set of red symbols in the mirror held up for her, staring at it with an impassive expression, as if looking deep inside lost memories. "It was a symbol of someone I once knew bear a long time ago."

Without elaborating further, Arturia raises her fingers to her face, "For now, this symbol is as much yours to bear as it is mine. Our proof of contract, for all to see. I suppose I should express my fidelity to you." She half-jokingly states.

"The face of the Inquisition, would-be savior of Thedas, serving the ostracized member of the Pavus household," Dorian sarcastically and quietly says, looking over his shoulder after the elf servant steps out of the room to put away the painting equipment. "A man's ego should only be inflated by so much. Just so we're clear, I don't wish to treat you like an actual servant once we're out those doors. But should keeping appearance be called for-"

"Do not fret over it, Dorian," Arturia assures with a soft smile, placing a hand over her heart. "Consider me as you would any servant. Though, if you do act rather distastefully, I shall privately and rightfully scold you, master."

Dorian gives out a rather impressed look by how immediately in character she is so quickly, tapping his own cheek in thought, "...You know, even though you look and act the part, I still can't help but feel this empowering need to follow your lead. Were you really just raised as a farmer?"

Before she can deflect the answer, Remerien returns, spotting Arturia's face. "Hmm. Yes, those markings will do. I believe it's time for us to depart. We will be seeking certain items down at the marketplace. Here are the lists."

After giving it to them, Remerien then keenly instructs both Dorian and Arturia to stick close to him, mentioning that at this hour, the streets will be quite busy. Once everything was in order, they all wore their cloaks of subtle gold-coloring and leaves the magister's premises.

It is the first time Arturia has the opportunity to take a look of the mansion outside. It is large and intricate, with gothic-texture and blue-tinted windows. There is a garden up front, full of exotic flowers that seem to illuminate, possibly a place to gather ingredients for alchemical reasoning. Perhaps Arturia can inquire Remerien about it another time? If she may end up staying in this time period for a short while, she would rather keep not only her physical strength but her alchemical knowledge in tip-top shape, especially if she is to avoid any more prank punishment from Sera once they return to their time. A long pathway made of padded crystal cobblestones, and a metal fence with an elegant gate that has the letter of the House on it.

True magnificence beheld them once they go past the gate. There are houses befitting of nobles stationed alongside the roads, and there are houses that are above those. Dozens and dozens of gold massive buildings floated overhead. White towers surged with incredible amounts of magic are also floating in the sky; windows that seem to illuminate stardust of energy residue. Carved statues of dragons, griffins, and the likes of such mythical creatures in artistic display along the hovering staircases. Floating lights upon pedestals to light the way of the road while the clouds are hovering beneath the sun on a rather dreary morning, though the surrounding weather does not diminish the whimsicalness that is this city in the slightest.

It is a place of pure imagination that even Arturia, after all that she's been through, is taken aback to see as if she is on an alien planet despite knowing well the existence of magic. Yet, she has never once in her life ever seen such an existence be utilized like this. The absolute energy of this entire place subtly rumbles the air, Arturia finds herself losing breath for a moment.

She wonders if this is what True Magic is like, and how much Merlin would have appreciated a place like this.

"So this is ancient Tevinter..." Dorian whispers with quiet, understated awe in his voice, and Arturia can hardly blame him. He leans over to her as Remerien takes lead. "In my homeland, in our era, there were plenty of homes that like their floating. Here...there are coliseums touching the very sky."

He then proceeds to ask their guide various questions regarding the mystics of this place. For instance, how and what sort of magic would carry such a seemingly infinite weight, implying that such magic was now limited in his timeline. Remerien answers each and every question, with a rather prideful look, before it takes a rather sudden downcast turn.

"You know, I'm beginning to notice, based on the questions you pose, it seems not a lot of our culture will be surviving in the next eon or whenever you two hail from?" Remerien inquires somberly, "Unless, something happened that it led to such a deviation?"

"Er, well, um..." Dorian hesitates to answer, looking rather guilty. Nonetheless, he gathers his bearings quickly enough to give their guide a proper response, "There have been...a few instances Tevinter loses its composure. However, the pursuit and interest to be tremendous remains. So many potentials to be met, and never once will it lose this shine."

"Ah. So we grow even more impressive then? I had thought we were rather too large for our own good, but I suppose that is comforting to hear otherwise," Remerien sighs in relief. Dorian merely smiles, one that Arturia instantly recognizes to be very strained, the kind you give before giving a loved one the worst news imaginable.

The further they walk, the more magic this place seemed to be spilling out. Residents walk across the streets. Just as Remerien predicts, it is crowded all around, and becomes even more so as soon as they arrive at the marketplace. Stalls upon stalls that sell products of fruits and vegetables, tomes, and other trinkets that later down in time would be considered as extravagant artifacts worth an impeccable amount of gold and treasures.

It is here, however, that the regal beauty and wonder of the Tevinter Imperium meets its swift end in the eyes of the King of Knights.

At the near center of the marketplace, several slave auctions are being held. Each slave of various appearance and race, age, and gender, stands upon floating pedestals - ten slaves on each pedestal. There is the auctioneer taking bids, buyers pointing to the imprisoned as if picking out a horse. Even the noble children are pulling at their parents' skirts as they pressed to have one of the "prettier" ones, as if slaves were no more than dolls to fashion in their eyes.

As for the slaves themselves, not one of them shares the same dissociative interests as the buyers around them. Life has been completely sucked out from their eyes, their heads lowered as if making eye-contact with anyone would earn them punishments, and it seems many of them have already endured such, seeing the scars and bruises of all shapes and sizes on their arms and faces.

Arturia had to put up her stoic "mask" to keep her visible disgust at bay. She glances over to Dorian, and sees him just as impassive. Slavery still exists in his homeland and era, is it just like this where he is from? What could he possibly think of it all? Does he actually see nothing wrong with this in the slightest? Servants exists even in Arturia's time, but in her court and kingdom, it was an occupation chosen. Did any of these captured men and women ever have a choice in anything?

"Oh, oh! Mother! I desire that one! Let us have her!" Arturia hears the excitement of a child. She carefully cranes her head and finds a pristinely dressed small girl pointing at the knight. "Oh I love her hair and eyes - they're like the sun! I beg you mother, tell father!"

"Hush sweet one," A noble ranking woman chides the child, gently holding her hand, "Gander at that mark on her face. She's already been taken."

"But mother-!"

Arturia turns away as the small child is pulled away by the doting mother. She quickly follows after Dorian and Remerien, keeping to their backs as a servant must never go ahead of their master unless permitted. She is not the least bothered by being seen as a slave, for she made amends with it when she made a deal with Alaya to be a Servant for the Holy Grail War. She had been a servant to her people, and had signed her will to the bidding of whoever held her Command Seals, so long as she achieved her wish. Despite her hatred for Kiritsugu, there were times she agreed to his pragmatic mindset in viewing her as a weapon, for she was indeed the Sword of Britain, carrying the promises and hopes of many.

But this...this is just plain unsightly for the knight, seeing others who have been chained and forced into such positions, and nothing but a life of expected obedience and stripped of basic rights is what awaits them. And despite what she may view herself as, being treated as a doll to play around and dress up would be far too humiliating for the knight to bear.

There is a sudden sound of smacking somewhere nearby, and Arturia fully turns her head to the noise. An Elven slave is kneeling on the ground, bare and bones. A harsh kick from a guardsman forces him to stand and take to the pedestal to join the auction, fiercely pushing him all the way.

Arturia clenches her hand into a tight fist. She knows she mustn't charge right in, less she risk a commotion that would put her, Dorian, and Remerien in a difficult position, but the urge to defend that innocent, to save all the innocent imprisoned people, is growing stronger and stronger by the second.

"...If there's one thing I won't miss about this place, it's the harsher treatment towards its slaves."

She turns back to Dorian. A disapproving look that is plain for all to see on his face as he sees what is transpiring. "There are, or will be, laws that would demand better care. After all, a beaten and abused worker would hardly gain much earnings to their owners."

"And is profit all the reason need be to give the barest protection and rights to these people?" Arturia hisses back with what can only be described as vice.

"It's a difficult position, I know," Dorian replies placatingly, trying to calm Arturia, especially since just now there would have been heads turning in aghast at her attitude towards her master. "Our views are rather different, perhaps drastically so, hence how I'm handling all this far better. Though it was never this bad back home. Bear with it a little longer, this is not our era where we can simply intervene even if it's the right thing to do. A single act could devastate our entire timeline, and this would all be for nothing."

Arturia forces herself to take a deep breath, "I know. I understand, but it does not make it easier. I simply cannot stand idle while innocents are unjustly harmed and tormented."

"There are those waiting back home who need you just as much," Dorian retorts persistently, a hint of pleading in his eyes, "Think of them, not here."

Arturia can only listen to those words silently, and hesitantly, nods back in agreement.

They continue following after Remerien until they reached one of the stalls that were selling trinkets. They start to look through their lists of things to find and make purchases of. A small talk is instigated between Dorian and the seller upon seeing the apparently "appalling" scene of Arturia reading the list. Dorian utilizes his well-honed and well-taught people's skills to keep the seller interested rather than suspicious, and the seller admires the mage's generosity in teaching his servant to read. It seems he fits in quite well, unsurprisingly for a Tevinter descendant, though she wishes that there is a much less condescending tone on the seller's part.

"Would you take my word on it if I swore to the Old Gods themselves that she learned our language in just a day, amicus meus?" Dorian snidely comments, his posture and tone full of pride while offering a subtle wink in Arturia's direction and the knight has to withhold her reaction to openly roll her eyes as the seller in front of them laughs out loud.

Although, thinking on Dorian's comment a bit more, Arturia just realizes that she is in fact not only reading from a simple list, but she is reading it in ancient Tevinter writing. All with its detailed descriptions of the item they are looking for, a possible oversight from Remerien for him to have given this to them without realizing that the language throughout Thedas would have changed in their time. For Dorian to still understand it is easy to explain, for Arturia, it is not.

And she now imagines that wink he just did is not only to show he meant nothing by it, but that he also means everything by it, and that he'll certainly be bringing it up sometime in the future over how she is able to read ancient Tevinter. Rather than mull over this possibility, Arturia begins searching for the next item on the list, gazing over the products and already halfway completing this small quest.

"-Din'el! Tel'ar gen'av'ahna!"

Arturia halts her search when she hears the cries of a woman and quickly turns around.

A commotion at the near center of the market, where the auction was taking place. An Elven woman is desperately clinging onto a small Elven boy, who seems to be fighting against a Tevinter couple as the nobleman tries to pry the boy away from the woman. The Elven woman is screaming and shouting in the language of her people, and many onlookers are transfixed to the scene in disgustingly common disinterest.

"Vile creature- unhand him at once!" One of the guards came to help the nobleman while the noblelady - an underserving name - yells out in horror.

"What noise is she making?! Why won't she let him go?! We pay good coin for that boy!"

"Is ma' esha'lin! Tel'atha em'an!" The Elven woman pleads, but it is obvious that no one could understand her. No one except other Elves who many look saddened by her words, and Arturia who feels only righteous anger.

"Dorian."

She looked over to the mage who already has a knowing and serious face, yet he keeps his gaze on the table as the seller moves away to help another customer. "I know. But we cannot interfere."

"Master..." She presses, and Arturia is uncomfortably reminded too much of the time when she, Irisviel, and Kiritsugu witnessed the massacre of children by that monstrous Caster. The immense, overwhelming desire to help, but the order from Kiritsugu prevented her, and all that she could do was watch as helpless innocents were being slaughtered senselessly.

The guard strikes the Elven woman's face with his fist, forcing her to relent her child. Arturia flinches and she is nearly ready to summon her Excalibur.

"Vara ma' lanalin u!"

The Elven boy suddenly lurches away from the nobleman's arms and claws the guard's face. The guard cries out in pain and pushes the boy into his mother's arms, and a second guard come in quick, unsheathing his sword.

"You knife-eared pest-!" He raises his blade up high.

"NO!"

Arturia cannot hold herself back anymore and she raises her hand.

A green earthly glow emerges from her marked palm, and everything.

Simply.

Stops.


Translation:

Din'el! Tel'ar gen'av'ahna = No! Don't! I beg of you!

Is ma' esha'lin! Tel'atha em'an! = He is my son! Do not separate us!

Vara ma' lanalin u! = Leave my mother alone!

A/N: Happy New Years to all! Here's a lengthy chapter as we enter this new year HOPING it would be better than the last. As we continue down the path of slowly but surely progressing this story in a slightly new direction, I have a question for everyone:

What do you think of the potential pairing between Cassandra and Arturia? Arturia is much older than she appears and there may come a time when her true identity will be revealed to others. Until then, while it's uncertain of the sort of romantic pairing there will be in this fic - maybe it might even turn into a harem like with a lot of other Nasuverse protagonists - although Cassandra is straight in canon, and the idea is fun to play around Arturia's interest in certain Inquisition members (I quite like to explore her relationship with Sera and Leliana for instance - who is not the love interest of the Hero of Ferelden in this fic. Maybe even Josephine and/or others could be on the table...) what do you think of this idea?

While I await to hear your thoughts on this chapter and this end note, I thank you immensely for your reading and support as you patiently wait for the next one. I love you all very very much and I look forward to entertaining you more when the next chapter eventually comes later in the new year, if at all possible.

Thank you again and please leave a kind and honest review. Take care!