Have you heard?

With your training done, there are many preparations you need to make before your visit to the Sabrae. Later today the merchants will arrive, and before they do so you want to have everything in order for the journey.

You sit in your study, reading reports from your scouts, farmers and merchants. When necessary, you write down instructions or make mental notes to speak to any relevant individuals. After you complete those tasks, you are considering further training for your staff when the door slams open.

In the doorway stands Nova in all her yellow robed glory. Her dark hair has been done in braids, similar to your own, and her eyes gleam with the dangerous fires of obsession. Fires you have seen before, and that you had hoped not to see again.

"Finally!" She yells, "I have been searching for you all week, but now you can't hide anymore! It is time for your lesson."

You look at her for a moment, until her chest stops heaving.

Once she has begun to calm somewhat, you say, "I have not been hiding from you. I am very busy, and thus I tend to move a great deal. If you want to speak to me, mealtimes are best."

The woman is taken aback a moment, but soon her prejudice once more drives her. She cannot accept that you are correct, or admit you are anything other than a wayward fool.

"I'm sure," She sniffs, "Regardless, it is time for your lesson."

"Do you remember that I never agreed to any lessons?" You ask rhetorically, "I merely said you would be allowed to stay. I had assumed it would be some kind of overseer role, in truth."

"The reason I am here for does not matter!" The woman exclaims, "All should know of the Maker's light! I would teach you the correct path even if it were not the express desire of my superior!"

You consider this for a moment; though her obsession is unlikely to be a match for you father's, it will still drive her to pester you until you listen. Considering that you have little to lose save time, you put the last few reports away.

With a sigh, you say, "Very well. What is it that you wish to teach me?"

"Naturally we will start by correcting your wildly incorrect beliefs about the Maker," She states.

You doubt that, considering you were taught about Eru by those who had been created before anything else that exists.

The woman turns her eyes up to the ceiling and recites, "As there is but one world,
One life, one death, there is but one god, and He is our Maker."

"I disagree that there is one world, and to say that there is one death is a very human-centric claim, but I agree with the principle that there is one god who made everything," You note.

Nova starts, clearly unprepared for you to interrupt her recital.

"What?"

You repeat yourself, concealing your irritation with the ease of long practice.

"I see," The woman replies, frowning, "I thought you believed the Maker was not a god?"

You sigh, resisting the urge to massage your temples, "I do not think the being that abandoned you was Eru. I have never believed that Eru did not exist, nor that the Maker could not be another name for the One."

Clearly wrongfooted by your seeming agreement and 'flagrant heresy' in the same breath, the woman changes the subject.

"Returning to the chant," She says, gathering herself anew, "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world or beyond."

She looks at you, clearly expecting a rebuttal.

"I do not disagree with the words stated," You inform her.

The woman's eyes gleam with triumph, "Then you agree the apostate should be handed over to the circle?"

"No," You reply, "Those two statements are unrelated."

"How can you possibly say that?" Nova snarls.

"Simple," You state calmly, "I agree that magic should not be used to enslave or dominate. I also agree that magical strength should not be the deciding factor in who rules. I also believe that the circle will not aid Xandar in learning to control his 'gift'. These are non-exclusive beliefs."

Nova looks as though she is on the verge of physically attacking you.

"While we are on the subject," You continue, unafraid of her rage, "What are you reciting?"

"The chant of light! The holy text bestowed upon Andraste by the Maker himself!" The Chantry official exclaims.

That sounds like something a Vala would do, rather than Eru. The one is famously reticent, seemingly absent in the world. It is the Valar's duty to guide and shepard the Children.

If any Vala were to claim to be a god it would be Morgoth, or his local equivalent.

"Listen carefully," You say, leaning forward, "I am very busy, and I assume you are too. If you recite the entire chant and I respond to each of its points, we will be here for weeks. Perhaps you can summarise the core tenants of your religion, and I can explain why I do not believe it."

Nova glares at you, but you are used to far more intimidating conversation partners. It is no surprise when her nerve breaks first.

"Fine! We believe that Andraste was the prophet and bride of the Maker, and it is from her alone that true teaching stems. Man's hubris saw him breach the Golden city, and as punishment we were struck with the darkspawn," She explains.

"Magic has proven itself a corrupting influence and must be tightly controlled. Further mankind must repent and unite in praise and service of the Maker, then he will return to make the world a glorious paradise!" Nova finishes fervently.

The evidence for a Morgoth figure continues to mount. Most Valar are quick to turn away any who would worship them, none save Morgoth would demand all the Children of Eru bow before them. Truth be told, this has been the least convincing argument you have ever heard. The only question is where to start dismantling it.

There was once a Vanya thinker who wandered about asking people questions about what they believed. He would use his 'method' to prove that most quendi did not consider their beliefs in much depth. He was a rude and ill-liked individual, yet managed to be one of the keys in shaping Eldar philosophy for millennia. Now that you think about it, he probably still is.

Despite how disliked he was, you think there is merit in his approach. You would be more than happy to explain your own beliefs and how they are incompatible with what Nova believes, but you doubt it will do much more than cause an argument. Asking questions until she is no longer able to answer them to her own satisfaction seems more convincing.

You smile at the Chantry official, "I appreciate the summary. I have some questions I would like to ask."

The woman looks smugly pleased, "If you wished to have all the details you should have let me recite the Chant of Light. I will happily do so now, if that's what you want."

"No thank you," You reply, "I am not yet so blessed with time as to listen to Thedas' Anulindalë. Instead, I would like to ask about the practical aspects of the beliefs you summarised. Is that a problem?"

Nova sighs, closing her eyes, "No, it's fine. It's fine. Ask away."

You take a moment to organise your thoughts. Philosophy has never been your particular calling, but debate is part of rhetoric. It takes very little time to sketch the bones of an argument.

After you have a plan, you say, "Let us begin with the easiest to address. You claim magic is a corruptive influence. Could you explain why?"

Nova looks at you in irritation, "Didn't you already say you agreed that magic was a corruptive influence? Why should I explain this to you?"

Those had not been your words, but that is not relevant yet, "I would like to hear your reasoning, rather than my own."

The woman rolls her eyes, "Just look at it. Abominations, blood magic, demonic bargains, the Tevinter Imperium. Magic corrupts everyone who uses it."

"Does that include those within the Circle?" You ask neutrally.

"No!" Nova boasts, "Because they are watched by Templars at all times and guided by the wisdom of the Chantry to practice magic safely."

"So it is only certain types of magic that are corruptive?" You continue your questions.

Nova blinks for a moment, but quickly rallies, "No, there's always the risk of demonic possession."

"Do all Circle mages inevitably end up possessed?" You ask, genuinely curious,

"No," Nova allows, clearly thinking, "Most mages who pass their Harrowing are usually safe."

That is not a term you are familiar with, "What is the Harrowing?"

The Chantry woman shrugs, "Some magic test, I don't know the details."

"Once a mage completes their Harrowing, are they free to leave the Circle?" You continue.

Nova frowns, "I don't know. I don't think so."

You keep your tone non-confrontational, "Why is that?"

"Because they're still dangerous! They could be possessed or use blood magic," Nova exclaims.

"To summarise your position as I understand it: Magic is inherently corruptive because of the chance of a demon possessing someone," You summarise, "Is that correct?"

"There's also blood magic. That's just as dangerous," Nova clarifies.

"To make sure I understand, this is magic that uses blood to bind minds or demons or other spells in a similar vein?" You ask, restraining a smile at the pun.

"Yes! Exactly!" The Chantry woman exclaims.

"Forgive me if I have misunderstood but does that not mean that magic is not inherently corruptive?" You inquire.

Nova stares at you, anger beginning to stir beneath her shock, "How could you possibly say that?"

"Demons are external forces, ones that have their own wills and desires," You explain, "They are not inherently a part of magic, and you yourself claimed the Harrowing will keep most safe."

"What about blood magic!?" Nova shrieks, "That is evil and corruptive."

"Yes, it is," You agree mildly, "It is also only one branch of magic. Claiming that it alone makes magic inherently corruptive is akin to claiming that blacksmithing is evil because you can burn out someone's eyes with a hot iron."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't prove the Circle is unnecessary!" Nova states haughtily.

"I said nothing of the Circle," You reply calmly, "I am merely pointing out that your claim that magic is a corruptive force is, by your own logic, false."

Nova springs from her chair and points at you, "You're twisting my words! I didn't say any of those things."

You deliberately do not react to her actions, "Perhaps I have misunderstood you, but I have not deliberately misrepresented what you said. Is there something you want to correct in my logic?"

Nova restates her position and repeats her earlier points with different wording. You calmly ask her to explain how that is distinct from her previous point, and each time she fails to deliver a different line of reasoning.

"Perhaps it is best to move on to another one of my questions," You say tiredly, "This particular set seem to be going nowhere."

"As if you only have a single question," Nova sniffs.

You nod, considering. You do not feel the need to address Andraste, who is mostly a footnote in this argument. How Eru chooses to act in the world is his own business and you would rather not investigate the matter too closely, lest your broken oath become a more pressing concern than it currently is. That leaves the fundamental question about the why the Maker left and why she believes he will return.

Before you can begin to speak again you find yourself looking at Nova. The Chantry Sister is clearly distressed, obsession now replaced by fear and confusion. You begin to reconsider your approach.

This conversation is clearly hard on Nova and, as someone who has had their own beliefs drastically shattered, you know it can be a confronting process. You quietly resolve to be gentler. You would like the number of people you know who have thrown themselves into a chasm to remain at one.

You say, "I would like to address the Maker directly. As you correctly surmised, I have a number of questions on the matter. I would also like to apologise for my earlier tone."

Nova looks at you in surprise, "You are retracting your words?"

"Hardly," You clarify, "I am merely apologising for the way I spoke. It is not my intention to cause you distress. I merely wish to understand your beliefs and to help both of us understand why I find it hard to share them."

"As if a mere apology will change anything you have said," Nova sniffs.

"Of course not, regardless, you have mine. I will strive to appear less hostile going forward," You state, it does not cause the woman to relax but it also does not raise the tension.

"To ensure that I have not made a mistake, here is what I understand to be the Maker: The Maker created everything and then disappeared one day," You state carefully, acting more unsure than you feel.

"Hardly. The maker made things in stages," Nova corrects, "First, he made the Fade and the spirits within. They are the Firstborn. These spirits were a failure, though they could control the Fade better than anyone else, they had no soul of their own."

"Is that so?" You ask, genuinely interested, "I did not know that."

"Of course not," Nova smiles arrogantly, doing her argument no favours. "Disappointed in his creations, he made humans, dwarves and the rest. We were far more pleasing, but many turned to worshiping spirits as gods, which angered the Maker, who withdrew to the Golden City. When the magisters dared to break into the Golden city, he cursed them to be the first darkspawn and abandoned the world entirely."

The more you discover of this Maker, the less he sounds like Eru, "I have a few questions about the first part of the story in particular. Please bear with me, my questions may seem strange at first."

Nova still looks annoyed, but she is not on the defensive, so you count it as a win, "Get on with it, this was not what I had in mind for the first lesson."

"Tell me, is the Maker infallible?" You ask.

Nova frowns, stopping to think, "I... well, maybe. I don't think so? If he was then surely the spirits would never have lacked souls or become envious of humanity. Unless that was part of his plan?"

Nova trails off, clearly lost in her thoughts rather than paying attention to you.

"If I may, I have a problem with the teachings at this point I would like to express," You say conversationally. "Could you tell me if I have made a mistake in my logic?"

Nova visibly shakes herself, "Yes, as is my duty as your teacher I will correct your errors."

You push down the irritation at this child. You have been arguing with people for longer than her species has existed, you doubt there are any flaws in your logic she will spot that you failed to.

"It seems to me, that either answer raises concerning questions," You say gently, "If the Maker is infallible, then why did he not include souls in the spirits? If he wanted both spirits and beings with souls, why not start by making both? You yourself have already asked these questions."

Nova worries at her lip, "I'm sure it's part of the Makers plan, we just don't understand how."

"That raises a question of its own, but I will return to that in a moment," You reply, fighting to reign in your adversarial nature, "If the Maker is not infallible, that makes a great deal of sense, but it raises the question of how we can be certain he will return."

"He told Andraste he would!" Nova exclaims.

There is another angle of argumentation here about the nature of the Maker and the possibility of him being imitated by these 'Firstborn'. Which is itself a concerning title. Neither of which will be of use right now, so you leave them aside.

"If he is not infallible, then he might have changed his mind, or forgotten to mention a condition. If a divine being is prone to simple mistakes of the kind he has made previously, then there is no guarantee that his word is good," You continue in a gentler tone than earlier, "The whole promise becomes a gamble, not a certainty."

"That's all just rampant speculation! Just because he can make mistakes, if he even can make mistakes, does not mean he will not keep his word!?" Nova shrieks.

You pause a moment to allow her to calm down.

"I am not saying he will not. I am not even saying he cannot," You explain, as though talking to a child, "I am simply saying it becomes harder to trust him."

Nova is not calming down enough. You do not want to push her too hard, so with a small amount of disappointment you decide to end the questioning.

"Perhaps this is all getting a little too personal," You muse, "We should stop for now and resume the conversation with more level heads."

"No!" Nova exclaims, "You're wrong and I know it, I just need to figure out how you're wrong."

You do not sigh, however much you want to, "You can do that while you rest, continuing risks us digging ourselves more firmly into our positions more firmly. That will only be counterproductive to both our goals."

"Ah! I've got it." Nova exclaims, clearly not listening to you, "If we accept the Maker is fallible we can still trust his words, because we also know that he loves us. If he had completely abandoned us then he would never have sent Andraste her visions!"

That sounds more like Eru, but it raises the question of why he left in the first place. No, it is time to end this discussion before it gets any more heated.

"I am glad you found an answer, and on that note we should finish," You state again.

"Not until I hear you admit that I'm right," Nova hisses, "You've been dancing around trying to pick holes in the truth, now I want you to admit that I won."

"Nova, this is counterproductive," You reply warningly, "You will find the rest beneficial…"

Nova interrupts you, "I'm fine with leaving it here, as long as you admit that I answered your question."

"Nova," You try once more.

"Admit I'm right!" She yells.

"I cannot," You explain placatingly, "I have further concerns that your answer does not address, I simply do not believe that voicing them will be beneficial at this stage."

"What are they?" She hisses disbelievingly "Tell me!"

"Are you certain you wish to hear them?" You try one last time, "It will only prolong the argument."

"Just tell me and we can stop," Nova concedes, "It'll give me time to really pick them apart."

You sigh, "Some context before I voice my concerns; and they are concerns, not questions; my brother and father were both blacksmiths and inventors. Whenever they made something new, they would create multiple prototypes and test every property they could think of to understand what they had done."

Nova frowns, clearly not following your logic yet.

"If we accept the maker is fallible," You continue gently, "We must address the possibility that we are a prototype like the spirits. If the Maker was convinced we were not what he wanted, it would be logical to test us to see where the problem laid."

Understanding begins to bloom in Nova's eyes, "You're not saying what I think you're saying."

"I have spoken my concerns and this conversation is over," You state firmly.

As you leave the study Nova remains in her seat. You wonder if she has similar questions to your own.

What is this 'Maker's goal? What is at the end of his plan?

Buying and Selling

Compared to the simmering tension of the previous week, the atmosphere of Endataurëo was a calm oasis. Even the new addition to their ranks was proving a calming influence.

"I confess I have rarely been much involved in trade of this nature. It is quite the experience," The Elven mage comments.

"If you've got a problem with it then there's no need to be involved," Martin grumbles, "We get by just fine without you, there's no need to show up if you're just going to complain."

"I was not complaining. I find the process interesting. Besides, I wish to understand life here," This 'Solas' remarked, completely unconcerned with Martin's displeasure.

"If you two cannot work together, than please move to work separately rather than disrupt everyone else with your arguing," Nelyafinwë intervened before the problem escalated, "Solas, perhaps you could speak to the Dalish traders while Martin addresses the humans?"

Begrudgingly, Martin walked over to negotiate with the human traders by your request. Quite a few of them were only interested in trading with the Dalish, and needed him to act as intermediary.

Martin couldn't blame them. The grudges between the locals and the Dalish weren't going to evaporate overnight.

Martin approaches the Dalish traders.

"Hi everyone," He greets, swallowing his nerves, "There's some humans looking for leather. You got any?"

The lead merchant looks first at him then away to the human merchants, hovering just beyond earshot.

"Of course," The elf replies, "We have a variety of leather rolls available. I would be more than happy to talk to them about what they need."

Martin winces, "Yeah, about that. They asked me to talk to you about it. They're looking for shoes, so does that help?"

"If the shemlen want to buy something, they can talk to us themselves!" One of the younger trader shouts.

The lead merchant glances at the youth. Martin can't see his expression, but whatever it is causes the younger elf to flinch back and mumble an apology.

The older trader turns back to face Martin, "I'm afraid it will take a great deal of time to finalize the transaction if you are to act as an intermediary. It will be far more expedient to speak to the buyers directly."

Martin sighs, shaking his head, "Sure, I'll let them know. Fifteen silvers say they're not going to go for it."

"That is certainly be a bet I am unwilling to take," The elf notes with mild amusement, "Yet still, I ask you to carry the message so that they know what they're getting into."

Martin screwed his face up in distaste. He wasn't quite sure what was going on here, he had a suspicion but nothing provable. Still, he walked towards the other humans to deliver the message.

"The things I do for this place, I swear," He grumbled to himself.

He still had to deliver the wine to its waiting customers and buy whatever damn fool thing his boss wanted him to this week. A merchant's work is never done.

The other humans cursed and grumbled among themselves. Martin wishes they would stop; he is already fed up with doing this and it has only just begun.

"Of course they do," A middle aged woman with the thickest arms he'd ever seen not on a dwarf complains. "Well, if they don't want to do business, they can starve!"

Martin is reasonably sure that the Dalish had more food than the local villages in most weeks. He also has no desire to prolong this conversation.

"So, are you going for it or not?" He asked.

The group of human merchants concur that they would not be buying anything, 'to teach those uppity knife ears a lesson'. Martin is privately sceptical, reasonably certain that this was the reaction the Dalish had been looking for. Still, he is not asked his opinion, and not mentioning it let him get about his other tasks faster.

Only having half as many barrels in his handcart is a pleasant change of pace for Martin. It almost soothes the irritation he felt at not being allowed to buy a cart and mule.

"We will be prioritising equipping our warriors for now," Nelyafinwë said.

"But it's really heavy!" Martin was not whining; he was lodging a complaint.

"I have sympathy for your position, but we have only so much coin," The elf explained, far too reasonably for Martin's tastes, "A cart would be useful, but allowing the Gladesville contingent to be relieved by the infantry will allow us to keep the roads far safer."

No matter how much it annoyed Martin, that was the final word on the subject.

Thus, Martin sold his wine and is now loading his handcarts with yet more heavy plate from the Carta.

"Allegedly from the Carta," The dwarf selling the armour reminds him, "There's no definitive proof as to who my contact is, and I myself am obviously not a part of such an organisation."

Martin raised an eye at the dwarf, "Really? Nobody buys that, and why do you even care? We're in the middle of nowhere. I could yell that you're in the Carta from the rooftops and nobody'd even notice."

"It's the principle of the matter," The dwarf replied, far too smoothly for Martin's taste, "Beside, I am not a member of the Carta, and people who claim to be when they are not are very prone to 'accidents'."

Martin hated dwarves. He really did.

Reporting In

Anneth takes one last deep breath to steady herself before knocking on the study door.

Pausing only long enough to be invited within, she prepares to give her second weekly report.

"Good evening, sir. How has everything been?" She asks.

"Trying. I hope you will not be offended if we skip the pleasantries," Her employer replies, his voice tired, though his face shows none of the lines or shadows she'd expect from his tone.

"Yes sir," She acknowledges, "We set out with two shifts around midmorning at the start of the week. Simion suggested retracing our steps, and we got luck and found a trail. We think one of the spiders got hit by a Sylvan."

"So, you found the nest," It was not a question.

"Exactly," The officer nods, pleased by his faith in them, "We had a bit of problem then, the nest was surrounded by a thick wall of web. I didn't think we'd be able to get through it unscathed."

"You were likely correct; those webs are very thick and extremely hard to extract yourself from," The tall 'Noldo', whatever that was, notes.

That sounded like there was a story behind it, but Anneth keeps her questions to herself for now.

"So, we decided to burn the nest out," She continues.

Something about that makes her employer narrow his eyes at her. She holds her breath, waiting for some kind of rebuke, but none comes.

Instead, those dark eyes return to their usual intense gaze, "What happened next?"

"There's not much to report after that. Some kind of giant queen spider survived the fire and tried to attack us, but she was even more restricted by the trees than the horses. Hardest part was cracking her shell with arrows, but we managed," Anneth finishes with a shrug.

Her employer and teacher leans back in his chair, "An excellent performance from the sounds of it. You made one mistake though. Do you know what it was?"

"Was it setting the nest on fire?" Anneth asks tentatively.

"Correct. Do you know why?" Nelyafinwë answered calmly.

Anneth wracks her brain for the problem, "Was it that fire isn't very effective against spiders?"

Her teacher shakes his head, saying, "Fires have a tendency to spread if not controlled. You could have ended up burning yourself or the entire forest."

Anneth flinched, "What was I supposed to do instead?"

"While there were other possibilities available, I do not believe in second-guessing decisions made in the field. That said, if you must use fire, ensure that you have a mage on hand to control the blaze," Nelyafinwë advises.