Mirror Mirror

The mirror you had found within the elven ruins proved to be much more interesting than you had expected. So, when Merrill asked if you were willing to help her investigate it further, you naturally agreed. It would be most interesting to figure out its mechanisms.

The idea of having a way to move large quantities of troops instantaneously or at least much faster was also very tempting.

Merrill takes longer than usual to respond when you enter her study. She is hunched over one of the shards she had gathered from the ruins, studying it intently. It takes several polite knocks, coughs and finally walking over and calling her name to get her attention.

"Nelyafinwë!" She exclaims. "Great, I'm glad you're here. I've been cleansing these all morning and I'm pretty exhausted."

You frown. "Merrill, I cannot condone such actions. The Taint is not a safe material to work with, to do so alone and late at night when everyone else is abed is recklessness of the highest order!"

Merrill's pride flares and she rises up in anger. "I'm not a child! I can make my own decisions."

"What if you had been tainted?" You ask fighting to keep yourself from reaching out and shaking her. "You could have come upon us in the night and how many might have died before you were stopped? How far might the Taint have spread before it could be stopped? You risked not merely yourself, but everyone."

Merrill's still standing, fists flexing as she tries to reconcile her emotions.

You sigh and step back, slumping your shoulders deliberately. "I thought better of you, Merrill."

The young elf flinches, the guilt trip as effective on her as it ever was upon Kano and Ambarussa. Her anger finds no target in you and must turn upon herself. Manipulative perhaps, but at the same time you needed to impress upon her the danger involved.

"Sorry. I didn't think… I just wanted to quickly check something and I got caught up… Sorry." She says, hanging her head.

You place a comforting hand upon her shoulder and smile. "All is forgiven. All I ask is that you take more care in future. Now, what had you so excited when I came in, you mentioned cleansing the shards?"

"Well, not all of them, but a significant sample of them." She explains, enthusiasm slowly creeping back into her voice. "I'm thinking, based on what we have, I might be able to remake an Eluvian! Won't that be great!"

"I certainly see the utility, but will we have time to complete the project?" You ask. "The Blight is oncoming."

Merrill pauses awkwardly. "Uh, well, actually, I don't know how long it might take, and also it wouldn't be that useful. I'm not certain but based on what you said, I think this serves as a sort of door into a Beyond adjacent space. So you'd actually need two to get anywhere…"

Well, that is disappointing, but perhaps for the best if the darkspawn are also able to use these pathways. "I see. So why do you wish to research it if it will not yield results?"

Merrill turns away from you to stare at the fragment on her desk. "It's not about the results. Not really. We, I don't know if you know this, but we have stories, the Dalish I mean. Of a time when we had, that's elves now sorry, we had an empire. That we could see far into the distance and travel in a flash of light."

You fold your arms, listening carefully as Merrill slowly grows more nervous in the silence.

"This, this could be an important link to our, to my, history. It could help my people or just teach us something about who we were and could still be." She pauses, clearly feeling judgement in your silence. "And, and, it's not just that. I want to see about this 'network' thing you mentioned. And if there's darkspawn there then we should stop them, and, and just think of all the artefacts that might be there…"

"I take your point." You say, cutting through her stammering. "If it is a matter you hold near to your heart, then my aid is yours."

The only question is what to do exactly.

One name springs to mind, Solas. This mirror, whatever its nature, is partly a construct of June. Solas has opposed him to some extent, and clearly knows something of his works.

Though he clearly has some ulterior motives, that he still seeks to conceal from you. It might be unwise to bring him into this matter, especially if you are looking to gain some advantage from it.

But then, you are not truly going to gain any advantage. Perhaps if you had some ambition of conquering a vast kingdom as many had when you set sail, but such dreams are as bitter ash to you these days. The only truly compelling counter argument would be that Solas is not a Dalish, but then again the division between Dalish and City Elf is as pointless as the division between Noldor and Sindar. [1]

"Do you have any objections to involving Solas in this matter?" You ask.

For a moment Merrill looks uncertain, but she shakes her head. "I, well, I can't really say it's none of his business. The Eluvians are said to be remnants of ancient Arlatha, which predates the creation of the Dales by more than three thousand years."

She sighs and gives you a look that screams reluctance but also determination. "It is as much his heritage as mine, and I would be selfish beyond all reason to deny him the chance to study it."

You give the young Dalish an encouraging look. The young elf you met a year ago may not have been so quick to welcome a non Dalish into her project, or anyone. It fills you with pride to see a student come so far.

"I see." Solas says, turning the shard over in his hands. "I had not realised… that such things existed."

You raise an eyebrow at Solas' pause, but Merrill is too eager to discuss the matter for you to make a comment on it.

"I know!" She exclaims. "We had stories of Eluvians, but we weren't sure if they were real. I can't imagine how much more revealing it would be for a city elf."

"Quite." Solas says with a blankly polite expression. "I had always wondered why Arlathan built no roads."

"Well, we've already begun to look at it." Merrill explains. "Nelyafinwë pointed out that it's linked into some kind of network and I've begun to look at the spellwork. It's, honestly it's kind of humbling."

Solas turns to look at you. "How could you tell it was involved in a network?"

You shrug. "Experience mostly. I once possessed an item that linked with others for communication. These contained several similar elements in their construction. Certain crystalline structures, a certain conceptual linking of items in the same shame and materials, basic things really."

"I've been looking at the spellwork." Merrill chimes in. "And I'm pretty sure that what it's doing is essentially compressing mana, kind of like a dirt road. Normalising the spatial relationship the Beyond has with the physical world. I'm not sure if it would work for communication."

"Perhaps it uses the same principle but applied differently?" You suggest.

Merrill shrugs. "Maybe, I'm not sure how that would work though. I've only had a few hours to examine it, but even so I think I'd have picked up any dual purpose spellwork, and I just didn't see any."

You shrug, willing to trust her judgement on the matter.

"What about you, Nelyafinwë?" Solas asks. "What do you think about this?"

"That it has some function for travel was obvious from the way the room it was in was laid out." You agree. "However, if I might have a look at in more detail?"

Merrill hands you another shard, as Solas is still staring contemplatively at his. You gaze at it, hoping that it might reveal some mystery that you have not already uncovered.

"I notice similarities to the Palantir, but I lack the skill to explain how such a thing might function." You continue, looking at it closer with more than your eyes. "I can also tell that June had some hand in the construction."

Solas' head snaps up "You can?"

You nod. "My father and brother were both smiths. I have enough experience with the art to recognise distinctive elements of style. June, for example, enjoys this particular control interface utilising will and focused thought. It matches his arrogance and preference for control."

Solas' lip curls slightly. "It does, does it not? Though he could not have made something like this alone."

"No, it has other elements that do not suit him." You agree. "Though I do not know the other hands that may have been involved. What can you tell?"

Solas turns the shard over in his hands a few more times, before sighing.

"Before I answer, can you tell me, what do you want to do with this?" He asks. "Not in the sense of how you will deal with these shards, but what is your ultimate goal?"

"That… is not a simple question to answer." You reply thoughtfully.

"It seems simple enough to my mind." Solas states firmly.

"Forgive me, I am not saying the question is difficult, but rather the answer." You reply. "I have many reasons that I am interested in this matter and it is difficult to put them in words without speaking overlong."

"Ah, my apologies." Solas says, somewhat abashed. "By all means, consider your words, but I encourage you to speak the truth, rather than what you think I wish to hear."

"Of course." You reply, lapsing into silence as you order your thoughts.

There are many factors involved in your interest, and thus it takes a great deal of time. Naturally you wish to assist Merrill, as she is interested, so too do you find the Eluvians interesting in and of themselves. Pieces of a culture of distant cousins, it had been much the same when the Teleri first arrived in Eldamar.

Though those are both persuasive elements that drive you forward it is not what ultimately cemented your interest.

"I find these interesting." You admit slowly. "In fact, I find the entire culture of Elvhanan fascinating, much as I find the culture of the Dalish fascinating."

Solas' raised eyebrow is met by Merrill's hurried support, "It's true, he wrote a book about it and everything. Tamlen was joking about lynching him for it actually."

"It says a great deal that I do not find that particularly surprising." Solas sighs.

You make a note to keep more of an eye on Tamlen in the future, and continue, "As an artefact, no, as a factor to build history around, this Eluvian is fascinating. I would, in elder days, gladly have dedicated centuries to its study for that alone."

You can already see Solas dismissing your words when you finally come to the point.

"But the elder days have passed, and this age is not so kind as they were." You sigh. "I confess, I have an ulterior motive, a driving need to study this mirror."

Both Merrill and Solas are slightly surprised by your words. Which is somewhat strange, given how often people seem to assume you have ulterior motives in this land.

"This mirror… Is it true what Merrill says, what my own observations suggest, that it can move men and elves great distances?" You ask, ruthlessly crushing all emotion in your voice.

"So the stories say." Solas replies, equally emotionless.

"Then I must learn its secrets, I must…" Your voice seizes up, pride rebelling at admitting the next at all. It is not a new sensation so you overcome it with relative ease. "I need to know, I need to go home."

Merrill's expression is sad and shocked, like she has never quite realised that you might want to leave one day. Solas simply looks interested, as though you are describing a mildly interesting fact.

"I am aware that you do not believe that I hail from a world far from this one, but it is the truth. I need to return, I need to find my brothers, I need to figure out how to return home. I have so many things I need to do, so many apologies to make…" You pull yourself up short before you begin spilling an unnecessary sob story.

"Even just the ability to rapidly move across Thedas would aid me in ensuring my brothers did not follow me here." You continue, forcing your voice to stay steady. "It may even aid me in my attempts to reverse engineer whatever June did to bring me here, if only by allowing me easier travel."

Solas is very good at maintaining a blank facade, but the wince at June's name is all you need to see to know that you have managed to convince him to aid you.

Solas sighs through his nose. "I do not know if the Eluvian will give you a way to your home. It makes heavy use of the Fade in its workings."

"Really?" Merrill asks sarcastically. "Does it perhaps use mana too?"

Solas gives her a flat look. "It uses the relationship the Fade has with physical space to artificially shorten the time it takes to cover distance."

Merrill blinks, then blushes. "Oh, sorry."

Solas nods. "Apology accepted. I cannot tell you how they are made, as I do not know, I have guesses, theories and I know bits and pieces, but I could not make one. Not alone."

Neither could whoever made these in the first place, still Solas is aiding you so you keep your suspicions to yourself.

"Here is what I know." Solas begins to explain.

Preparing to Depart

Many people would likely find it strange that you are preparing for your departure so soon. It had been very amusing, in a dark fashion, to watch Elrond and Elros desperately packing at the last minute, as it had never been a habit in your family. Though that was, admittedly, due more to your mother's influence than your father's.

The reasons are surprisingly obvious if one stops to think about them. The additional time means you are more likely to realise if you have forgotten something, it also ensures that there is no rush to complete the task. It is significantly less stressful, and it means that if there should be a need to depart early you can do so.

Preparations such as these have saved your life during your years on the run. Thus you are already planning what you are taking with you to fight the Blight despite your departure being five days hence.

With Faith and Martin at your heels and a list of everything within your storehouses in hand, you consider your plans. Currently you have as many as twenty carts available to transport items with you. Admittedly you could take more, but you want to leave at least seven behind, so deliveries can be made.

Twenty Eight shall be the number of warriors you bring with you. To maintain their weapons and armour you will need fifteen smiths, that puts your numbers at forty three. Add on the drivers of the wagons for another twenty, plus yourself and round up for the various officers and aides who might join you, seventy. Five healers, seventy five.

Reviewing your stocks, double checking against your notes, you should have enough food for six hundred or more. Admittedly, you could only do so for a single week, but you could easily feed one hundred for six. That makes this much easier. In fact, perhaps you could bring your herdsmen with their sheep too.

It would add another five people, but that would also give you a source of emergency food if things go wrong. Then again, it might slow things down. It might also let you bring your weavers and tailors if you think the campaign is going to take a long time. Then again, all of that ends up adding more food consumption, and making your force slower to move and react.

Of course you also need to bring other things, and you do not have enough carts to bring all that food at once. How much space shall you allocate to food and how much to leave for other things. Herbs will be important, spare shoes and clothes which would spare the need for cobblers and tailors.

Naturally you will also need to bring equipment for your smiths, that will take up around three fifths of one cart though.

Using those nifty standardised chests, you do not have to worry about different items taking different amounts of space which is fortunate.

"What are we looking for?" Martin asks.

"Right now we are taking inventory and preparing a plan." You explain. "Then we will begin loading."

"Are there any discrepancies?" Faith asks.

"Not as yet, but it will take some time to be certain." You reply. "Come, let us begin."

When considering the various needs, how many people you might need to bring with you, there really is only one option. You want to bring as much food as you can and still leave enough room for other things you might need.

"Alright, we have around six hundred chests of food." Faith reports dutifully. "At twenty five a cart, that's… we don't have enough carts."

The exact count is actually closer to seven hundred than six, but she is still relatively new to both literacy and numeracy so you forgive the mistake.

"Do not fear, we will not be bringing all of it." You reassure her. "I intend to leave at least some behind to ensure that should this land come under siege, it can hold for a time."

Faith does not need to say anything, you can already see that your words have caused a rush of fear. The images of herself desperately trying to command a siege against overwhelming odds are plain for you to see in her expressions.

"Anneth will be remaining here and will take command in any military emergency." You say, quietly so that Martin might not overhear. "Do not be afraid, it is not a likely outcome. Far more likely is that the food shall be used for a victory celebration. Either way, I have uttermost confidence in you."

Faith takes a deep breath and gives you a wan smile. You turn your attention back to supervising the loading and preparing. Just making the decision is only a fraction of the work that needs to be done.

Packing enough food for three weeks is hard enough on its own, doing so for three hundred people is a feat that you would not want to attempt alone. It is a dull task that tales and songs often skip and for good reason.

There is groaning and cursing as people repeat the same actions again and again. Humans complain about back pain, and there is a significant portion of time that is just missing in your memory. Part of you thinks you might actually have fallen asleep while packing.

However, after far too many hours, the food is finally packed and the last chest is loaded onto a cart, ready to depart.

"Well, that's a good job then." Martin comments. "Glad it's over."

You laugh, equally amused and bitter at the comment. "Over? My good man, the work has barely begun. We must now load the clothes and herbs and all the smith's tools."

Martin stares into the distance as though you have told him of the death of all his children. "Why did I open my mouth?"

Faith laughs and elbows him. "Come on, old man. Sooner we start, the sooner you can have your nap."

"Who're you calling old, young lady? Don't think you're too old for me to take you over my knee." The merchant responds playfully.

While their interaction brings a slight smile to your lips, by and large your attention is elsewhere. The question is what else you want to bring. Obviously soldiers need spare clothes and boots, between marches and blades both tend to get ruined. Should you bring more?

Then what else will you bring? Herbs for medicine obviously. You have enough for two cartloads, which is more than enough to treat every soldier several times over. The only real question is what else to bring.

Chairs and other wood products are a luxury you can do without, but cloth might be useful, either as bandages or for ablative armour. Then again, that is something that is fairly widely available. Tents too would be good for morale, since you have them, but they take up valuable space.

What to bring? What to bring?

"We will reserve this cart for the clothing and shoes that Delora should be bringing back with her return." You pause and reconsider. "On second thought, arrange for them to be assigned to Delora, we shall take her carts fully loaded."

Martin heaves a sigh of relief at the reduced workload. Faith takes diligent notes and starts interrogating him about how he and Delora organise their carts. Good, she is engaging with the lesson disguised as a command. It will be most interesting to see how she sets about completing this task.

It is no great surprise to find out that neither Delora nor Martin take any carts in particular. They tend to grab whatever is closest, though human habituation and frequent use mean that several of them tend to be used every time.

Hearing this reminds you of something you will have to do soon, but you wait to see if Faith will pick up on it.

"Ok, I think that's simple then." She says hesitantly. "We'll move all of our carts to the, uh, Ok, there's that clear area off the side of the road where it turns to come here. We'll put some guards there and call it the assembly point."

"A wise choice." You support her decision. "Is there anything else we need to consider before moving on?"

Faith frowns, clearly sensing there is something she is missing. You almost feel bad for not telling her the answer, but as unpleasant as it is, she will remember the lesson more if she finds the answer herself. If she does not, then hopefully the minor shame of being reminded will help the lesson stick.

"I think we're good?" She asks.

"Are you answering my question, or asking a new one?" You reply.

She takes a deep breath. "We're ready to start loading the clothes and shoes."

"We certainly can." You agree. "Though there is one thing we must attend to, which will likely be easier before loading. We must inspect the carts for wear. The journey will be long, and we do not want anything to break."

Seeing the young woman's crestfallen expression, you cannot help offering words of comfort. "It is something I myself nearly forgot, fortunately I had the time to think while you were organising the meeting place."

Somewhat encouraged, as much as one can ever be when they have made a mistake in front of a superior, the two of you proceed with the inspection. Having Martin along is very useful, as the crafts of men do not last as long as those of the Eldar, and problems of minor concern are potentially warning signs.

You allow Faith to take over most of the actual inspection and the loading that follows. Supervising and providing your mere presence going a long way to assisting the upcoming transfer of authority. In fact, you make it a mental point to spend the rest of the day having her attend to your duties. From there you can slowly walk back your presence until she works alone for the whole time you are in Brecilian.

All seems to be going well for your upcoming departures.

[1] You maintain the division was more Thingol's fault than yours. He would point to the first kinslaying, but you would respond that he was the one who retreated to a fortified position, banned your language and stuck his fingers in his ears and ignored all entreaties to pledge his banners to yours.