Hello dear readers! It's been a long time.
I've been working on my own novel. Completing it has become more important than ever due to some work-related issues. Sadly, this leaves less time for Reneka's story, but I'll do my best to finish it. The next chapter begins the final quest, so hopefully I'll be able to wrap up the first act soon. It means a lot to me if some of you have waited this long for an update.
Special thanks to Bioware and the awesome readers.
"There it is," Roghart pointed at a settlement of elves ahead of us. "The Dalish clan."
I hadn't met any true Dalish elves before in my life, so all my information was from the stories an elven prisoner had once told me when I was a Saarebas. While seeing a clan full of Dalish was enough to astonish me, I had to admit to myself that not everything I had hoped to find was there. Tents in all sizes were scattered around the area, but none served any other purpose than shelter for the night. Bitter disappointment made me swallow hard when I couldn't spot a single snow-white halla creature anywhere. Some members had gathered around the fire where an older elf seemed to be focused on teaching the young ones near him, but there were no children. Like the female qunari of my tribe, his hands created shapes in the air and some movements resembled the signs I had learned from the Mages' Cant, only they had no clear meaning I could decipher.
Everyone looked peaceful to me, but as I witnessed their faces upon our arrival, I was confused of what to think. Elves with bows or swords tied to their belts reacted by taking an obvious formation; two hunters kept a safe distance from a silver-haired woman who approached Roghart and four elves with light leather armor stood in half a circle, blocking the path to the mountains while the two warriors who had let us in ensured we couldn't turn back until declaring our intentions.
Nervously, I glanced around our party and attempted to read their reactions. When I saw Fenris, I couldn't help but admire how composed he was, even when the elves clearly glared at him as well despite being their kin.
"They are just cautious, we're not threatened," he suddenly said, perhaps because he noticed my fidgeting.
"I guess you would know," Anders sighed, like he had received a permission to be at ease.
"I'm speaking from experience, but not the sort that's gained from living among them," Fenris corrected. "In case you didn't know, the Dalish customs is not how I got my markings."
Before Anders could reply, I signed him to quiet down, tilting my head at Roghart who greeted the elven woman.
"Are you the leader of the clan?" Roghart inquired. "I was asked to bring this to you. I assume you're familiar with it?"
My eyes followed Roghart handing a finely crafted amulet to the elf and her gradually changing expression told me she recognized it immediately. She didn't blink in perplexity and scanned my brother, as if not wondering who we were, but how such an item had fallen into human hands. It also emitted a weak presence of magic stored within, so skillfully hidden that it made me question the nature of the previous owner.
"Andaran atish'an, travelers," the woman bowed her head. "Indeed, I do lead this clan as their keeper. My name is Marethari."
"I'm Roghart Hawke," my brother replied. "Continuing these introductions would be a polite thing to do, but if my part is done, then we'd rather return to the city before it gets dark."
"I'm afraid that isn't the case," the keeper sighed. "There are still a few steps I must ask you to perform in order to complete your task."
"What a surprise," Anders snorted in a sarcastic voice.
"You need to take the amulet to an altar at the top of the mountain," Marethari explained. "There, it must be given the Dalish rite of the departed before giving it back to me. With this, your debt will be repaid."
The frown Roghart visibly showed depicted my thoughts accurately. Even without any knowledge of Dalish traditions, a 'rite for the departed' sounded awfully inauspicious to me, like we were about to dabble in unknown necrotic magic.
"And you're going to provide me a book or something to get this ritual right?" Roghart scratched his hair.
"No," the keeper said serenely, gazing at the ground for a while before lifting her chin. "My First will accompany your group. I must also ask you to take her with you to the city."
Roghart's answer died on his lips and he looked at me, then at the others, but we all shared the same abashed look. "Alright," he finally said, his voice ringing with questioning tone. "Weird, but if that is what you wish, then alright."
Marethari had clearly expected my brother's reaction and she glimpsed at the mountain path behind her, either searching for something specific or just evading the inquiries my brother most likely had planned about the sudden new member we hadn't even met yet.
"It is not my decision, but hers," the keeper almost whispered. "There is a certain matter that we view very differently and to avoid a conflict, she sees no other option than to leave the clan.
"The First of a Dalish clan, abandoning her people over a quarrel," Fenris chimed in. "Why do I fail to see sense in such a story?"
"She can explain, if that is her wish. Merrill is waiting for you just ahead. I've explained the situation to her, so there's no need to recite the story behind the amulet."
Marethari gave a smile, though it seemed as fake as a qunari's amused laugh. When she walked away from us, her legs moved slowly during the first steps, like she had to force herself to keep going due to some hesitation. I blinked in bewilderment, wondering what the keeper truly wished to say to us.
The other members of the clan followed Marethari's example and ignored us after our talk was over. The teaching elf resumed his duties and had to raise his voice in order to make the children around him stop staring at our group. Those carrying weapons chose not to trust unfamiliar guests just yet and I saw at least two hunters with readied bows. Although their shoulders were slumped and the bowstrings weren't drawn tight, I doubted they needed more than a second to take any of us out.
I couldn't help but take a couple of glances at the elves behind me before I was comfortable enough to set my eyes forward and trust that our backs weren't going to be decorated with finely crafted arrows.
As I hurried to catch up with Roghart, a shimmering glow around the curve on the path caught my attention and I could hear unclear whispering sounds. My curiosity only increased when I saw a young elven woman holding the source of the strange light and marveled as she nimbly hid it away after our eyes met.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she quickly rose up to her feet. "I thought I was alone. You must be the person the Keeper mentioned. I'm Merrill, which you probably already know."
Suddenly, she gasped and her irises colored in forest green and sunrise yellow glinted as she evaded looking directly at my brother again. "Ah, please forgive me. I didn't ask your name. It's okay to ask a human's name, isn't it?"
The way Merrill rambled made me smirk impolitely and I averted my gaze when she noted the expression on my slowly blushing face.
Anders leaned closer to me. "I'm fighting against the urge to tell her it's forbidden," he said quietly into my ear and I chuckled, unable to hold it in.
The leer Roghart shot at me effectively silenced everything around him. "No harm done, Merrill," he said. "I'm Roghart, though it seems more and more people are used to calling me Hawke."
"Hawke?" Merrill's voice was high-pitched like a child's. "That's a nice nickname."
"Family name, actually."
"Ah," Merrill took a moment to gather courage to lift her chin again. "I'm not very experienced with your kind."
"But you do know how to complete this ritual?" Roghart frowned a little.
The distant sounds of laughter caused Merrill to lose her focus and she stared ahead at the elves of the clan. I couldn't see anything unusual in their behavior, but whatever it was that troubled Merrill showed clearly on her wistful face and I wasn't certain how to react to yet another secretive person.
Despite the moment of drifting away from the conversation, she always seemed to realize whenever I was watching her. Once again I was caught and the way we kept glancing at each other became more and more awkward.
"Ah, yes," Merrill gathered her composure, brushing her short black hair a few times to apparently calm her nerves. "And we shouldn't delay. It is not wise to keep Asha'bellanar waiting."
"Don't mean to sound rude, but I still don't understand why you would want to leave the clan after this," Roghart's words came out slowly and full of wonder.
"I've got no choice," Merrill retorted and she seemed shocked of her strong response. "The Keeper and I have disagreements, so it is best for the whole clan for us not to stay in the same place. At least temporarily. Or permanently."
"No need to be so gloomy about it," Anders said cheerfully. "Kirkwall is not that bad once you learn to appreciate the brief moments when there are no incidents to ruin your day."
"Incidents?" Merrill asked with serious concern. "I...suppose it can't be helped, being a human city after all."
"Meaning?" Roghart raised his brow.
"Well, the Dalish tend to tell horrible stories about you to scare the children, so I shouldn't be surprised if there was even a hint of truth in them, right?"
"Tales about us, she says," Anders grinned and I wanted to sign him not to tease an elven girl who clearly was prone to believe any sort of misinformation, but I wasn't skilled enough to do so.
"Oh, not you specifically!" Merrill shook her hands. "Just humans in general, which you of course are, but you're not mentioned in-"
"The ritual, Merrill," Roghart stopped her and I heard Fenris sighing from relief behind me.
After a pause, Merrill breathed out, her fingers twiddling in a restless dance. "Yes, pardon me," she gave a lively, unexpected smile. "Let's go."
I could understand why Fenris didn't wear loud shoes or armor to give away his position as a fighter, but as I followed Merrill, her slim clothed figure screamed of fragility. All that was missing was a red dot painted on her to tell enemies which one to target first. Her carefree and inexperienced attitude made me a bit jealous, causing my subconscious to realize what kind of sensations I had been deprived of.
Yet I felt oddly drawn to Merrill, or rather the aura surrounding her. Though she somehow made me recall the smell of a Saarebas collar, there was something intriguingly similar in her power when compared to mine and I couldn't ignore the energy I had felt from the bright light earlier. No-one had mentioned it since and she would surely be uncooperative were I to inquire about it, otherwise she wouldn't have hidden it away.
There wasn't a term I could use to describe such magic. It had been purifying like Anders' healing spell, but some other force kept the warmth corrupted, like a well that couldn't be cleaned because it was connected to the sewer system.
#
"So she's a mage," Fenris remarked to me after he had killed the last of the giant spiders that had attacked our group. "Nothing unforeseen there."
"Yeah the staff on her back kinda gave that away," Anders answered him, knowing that I didn't carry any writing tools in order to learn the Mages' Cant better. "Plus the fact that all Dalish Keepers and their disciples know forgotten arts and are thus potent spell casters."
"Kirkwall might not be the best option for her is all I'm saying," Fenris ended the discussion and stepped into the light outside the caverns we had cleared in order to climb the mountain.
I couldn't argue with Fenris' statement and I suggested to Anders that we should drop the subject. If Merrill was determined to leave her clan, she was going to be a lot safer with us than on her own. Her home would have to be at the elven alienage in order to stay out of the sight of templars, though it didn't mean that her identity would be concealed.
I wished I could assure Merrill that she had nothing to fear in Kirkwall while tagging along with us, but my own status at the city as an apostate and a runaway Saarebas prevented me from giving such a promise.
As soon as I felt wind brushing against my cheeks again, a sinister energy made me wince and glance around. With a few steps forward, I could see a magical barrier blocking our path. Whatever I had sensed was located right behind it, as if waiting for anyone foolish enough to break through.
"I can open the way," Merrill said very plainly. "This will only take a moment."
"The enchantment seems quite strong," Anders noted. "You sure you don't want to save your mana for the ritual? Me and Reneka could-"
"No need," the young elf kept her concentration on the barrier and stopped only two or three feet away from it.
My breath was taken away when the serene aura around Merrill suddenly turned parlous, causing a freezing chill to run across my spine. As the magic inside her grew stronger, I detected a faint whisper and couldn't tell whose voice it had been. Merrill had already drawn a knife from her pocket before I recognized the familiar power circling around her and my body fought hard not to see the look on my brother's or anyone's face when she cut her wrist, uttering a painful yelp as the flowing blood gathered between her and the barrier. It formed into a sphere which Merrill launched against the barrier, dispelling it in an instant.
Merrill's panting began to worry me, but when she was able to relax only seconds after her spell, I realized that it hadn't been her first time casting it. The light in her sparkling eyes was as innocent as ever and her odd nonchalance about a spectacle that still kept everyone's lips sealed made me more uneasy than the blood dripping from her fingertips.
"That's your solution?" Fenris commented first.
"Yes, it was blood magic, clearly," Merrill answered hastily while casting a healing spell on her hand. "But the spirit helped us and that's what matters, right?"
"Because summoning a demon has always made flowers bloom all around you?" Anders snapped, causing me to flinch. "What the hell are you thinking?"
"They are all just spirits, no matter what you call them," Merrill defended. "Debating about this is not what we came here for, so let's move on."
Roghart was awfully quiet and he stayed that way while walking through the passage. His gloves gritted from clenching his hands into fists and he made no direct eye contact with anyone, like his mind was drowned in a pool of words which, if picked in a wrong order, could set the thread tying our group together aflame. A familiar feeling for someone like me who couldn't get a second chance when reacting to an affair everyone had a personal opinion of. By the time I was writing another sentence to correct the previous one, a disagreeing individual would already have his fingers locked around my throat.
I noticed Merrill's wound hadn't closed completely, which meant that she wasn't proficient in healing magic. Anders was the first person I'd ask to aid her, but his disappointed look made me wary. Blood magic was always considered sinful, yet I wouldn't be alive without it. It disgusted me and brought up unpleasant images. In the qunari tribe however, blood had been a hundred times better option than red lyrium in terms of surviving the fight and living to tell about it.
As I succumbed deeper into my thoughts, Roghart startled me with a pat on my back. "Stop thinking about it," he said firmly. "We still have a few obstacles ahead before we can return home."
My brother wasn't the gentlest when it came to persuading someone, but at that moment his 'pull yourself together' speech was exactly what I needed. The more I tried to analyze the status of the people beside me, the more distinctly I saw the shared hatred towards blood magic. Throwing more spice into that stew wasn't going to enrich the spoiled taste.
"Fine, we can ignore the elephant in the room," Anders muttered and I frowned at his childish attitude.
"Shh," Merrill halted us and reached for her staff. "I'm sure you have sensed it, too."
"The obvious eerie necrotic energy that's almost visible? Yes."
A weak vibration in the ground made my heart skip a beat and my hands warmed, preparing themselves to automatically cast a fireball at an unfriendly being.
"In the days of Arlathan, the elders came here to sleep," Merrill explained while slowly moving her weapon closer to her front. "They are restless and sleep no more."
"I'm quite certain that they appreciate your history knowledge, though I fail to see how it's going to help us," Fenris snarled.
"There's a special meaning behind Uthenera, the slumber of the elders, that must be remembered."
Out of thin air, a creature like a spirit appeared behind Fenris and he ducked fast when I kept my promise and hurled a fiery projectile against it, turning the spirit into ashes before it was fully manifested.
"Here's a special meaning for you, Merrill: Stop babbling and fight!" Roghart retorted.
#
Although I wasn't entirely focused, the battle hadn't left any of us seriously injured. I had spent more time observing Merrill's movements than shielding myself and others and felt slightly embarrassed when Roghart had scolded me for it after the last of the enemies had been destroyed. He was permitted to do so of course. Practicing teamwork was my top priority if I ever wished to make myself believe that I could perform without red lyrium.
Even Coin had expressed his concern of my extraordinary skill to handle such power. Although adjusting to a normal life with people to depend on was the most important thing for me after years of solitude, I had to become more independent on the pure original magic inside me for his sake as well.
When I looked at the others, I could see the difference between me and them. Anders didn't rely on the spirit that dwelt inside him, despite the amount of energy he could receive from it and Fenris rarely enhanced his moves with the lyrium on his skin. I knew Roghart's influence in Kirkwall reached much further than I had pictured and the Merrill I had seen during the fight wasn't a blood mage. She had a complete understanding of the nature all around her and she could use it to her every advantage with magic powered only by her will.
It occurred to me that Roghart had surrounded himself with people who could fill certain roles. A defender who shielded his companions and made the enemies drop their weapons before they could even lift them. Fighters with strength like a bull's to quickly reduce the opposing numbers and with dexterity to pass through a crowd of soldiers undetected, striking precisely against the weakness. A controller like Merrill could ensure that once an opponent had began his charge, the steps wouldn't take him far before magically grown roots grabbed his legs or a nightmarish illusion plagued his mind.
I wondered what my role was and whether I could find it on my own or I would be issued one.
"There is the altar," Merrill informed us, pointing at a shaped stone on a cliff ahead. "Place the amulet there."
Roghart gave one last look at the item in his grasp and seemed to be more at ease once he placed it on the altar and retreated, giving Merrill space to carry out the ritual. She closed her eyes and spoke in Elvish, her voice both soft and stolid, like a child who was going through the changes of becoming an adult. The language sounded beautiful and I regretted that I couldn't learn it in other than written form.
I sensed her speech slowly being weaved into a spell and inspected the area after Anders did, intrigued of what was about to happen. As Merrill finished, a faint golden dome surrounded us, releasing a quantity of energy equal to a stormy gust of wind. The flying dust was blocked by my raised arm, but I could see a foreign human figure through my squinted eyes. When the spell ceased, the amulet was gone and an old woman stood in front of us with a mysterious grin on her lips.
"We meet again, young one," she said to my brother in the most tranquil tone I had ever heard.
Her whole existence reeked of magical force, though despite my best efforts, I couldn't detect anything unnatural like Justice in Anders' body. Either I was too exhausted or she managed to hide her spiritual energy disturbingly well.
"A witch," Fenris spat the best word to describe the stranger first.
"Now there's an observant lad," the mage chuckled.
Merrill bowed her head, her gaze away from the woman as if she was too bright for her to look at. "Andaran atish'an, Asha'bellanar," she greeted humbly.
"Do you know who I truly am, child?" the woman gave an enigmatic smile.
"I'm afraid I can't say that I do."
"Then lift your chin and let's forget all these pointless courtesies."
"Yes, let's do that, Flemeth," Roghart interrupted, his irritation clear as a cloudless sky.
Flemeth's genuine laugh was like any old granny would own. "See that, child? He adapts quickly, as should you. Forget the titles and stories parents use to scare their cubs. We all have a path to follow and no fancy name can divert us from the events of our fate."
It wasn't only Flemeth's peculiar appearance that made her seem threatening. Part of her white hair stuck out like a dragon's horns and her yellow stare was so overpowering that I constrained myself from thinking about anything harmful, frightened that she could read my mind and use it against the people I knew. But none of her visible features were as alarming as the way she choked me while doing absolutely nothing. Even if she stood there naked and bald with all her limbs cut off, the whole space around her would stop any creature with common sense or instinct of danger from approaching.
I had believed only the Arishok of my tribe could achieve that.
"I'm not interested in your delusional riddles," Roghart furrowed. "Does this mean that you've traveled with me all this time?"
"It was just a fragment, enough to smuggle me here," Flemeth answered with a sly sneer. "Morrigan's decision was exactly as I had predicted, so you've aided me more than you can possibly know."
Who's Morrigan? I signed to Anders while keeping an eye on Flemeth in order to see if she could somehow comprehend the Cant. Anders shrugged as a response and I allowed myself to breathe when Flemeth didn't pay much attention to my movements, though she could also be concealing her curiosity. I tried to focus on listening to the buzzing in my ears due to the breeze, but it proved troublesome when my heart couldn't settle down, causing the vein in my neck to throb.
Roghart exhaled, his arms tightly crossed across his chest. "So you're the real you, right?"
Flemeth laughed out loud. "Why should I limit myself to just one body?" she smirked. "If I could be the stream, why settle for a fish swimming in it? Or if I could be the earth, why settle for a stone lying on it?"
"You could also let me slap you so that your words start make some sense. That would be quite refreshing, I'm sure."
Flemeth took few steps closer to us, her leather waist cloth sweeping the ground behind her. "Understanding someone like me is the least of your worries, young warrior," the witch said in a deeper voice and glimpsed at each of us separately. "The road you must walk is filled with dark detours and it is your task to accept them while not straying off. Only you can affect whether it is a turn or a dead-end waiting for you once you reach the destination."
A moment passed in silence before Flemeth one more of her indefinable smiles. "Some advice before I go?" she offered.
"You must know everything there is to know about all the things, so I may not be able to provide you any," Roghart replied sarcastically.
Flemeth turned around, but not before I witnessed her show slight amusement. "The world is about to go through a series of changes," she spread her arms, as if embracing the scenery before her. "Everything and everyone will be involved in the matters fate has planned for us and we all must play our parts. Do not hesitate to take a stand, because that is what will determine the strength of your foundation."
She leered at me over her shoulder and I couldn't look away, like her eyes had bewitched me. "When you see your opportunity, remember the assets you possess," she prompted. "In this world, even a wingless bird can be made to fly again."
With no warning, Flemeth was enclosed in a golden globe that swiftly grew in size. The spell blinded me for a second, but Anders' gasp forced my eyes open. The swirling energy disappeared and a huge dragon was flying away from us further to the mountains, its flapping wings booming in the sky. Although I had seen smaller dragons before, they paled in comparison and weren't in humanoid shapes at first.
I had never heard of magic that would give a mage ability to transform into such a beast. Flemeth may not have been a human, but it wasn't only because of her unique talent or the words that dripped of knowledge beyond our realm. I still called myself a human after enduring red lyrium which no ordinary person should be able to survive through.
"By the Creators," Merrill stood in awe. "I'm...speechless."
"Welcome to the group," Roghart snorted, ambling back to the mountain passage.
Flemeth had vanished into the horizon and the setting sun made it even harder to stare into the distance. I bit a grain of sand that had ended in my mouth during the gale the witch's spell had created. Trying to remove the tiny thing became more arduous than I had thought and I gave up, submitting to gnawing my fingernails instead.
"That was definitely surprising," Anders joined my company and also attempted to find the dragon, covering his eyes from the rays of the sun.
I nodded, continuing to stare at the mountains.
"We probably should catch the others," Anders suggested. "Hopefully the cave isn't infested with any spiders this time."
What do you think she was? I asked with my gradually improving Mages' Cant.
"Flemeth? No idea, couldn't even tell if she was truly a mage before she took the shape of a dragon."
A human? I elaborated.
Anders blinked at me and a pensive look fell on his face. "I suppose no human could have such power," he stated. "I mean, you can, but not actively."
His answer guided my own point of view into a more sensible reasoning. The magic received from red lyrium was from an outside source. The effect didn't last and there was no guarantee that my brain wasn't fried in the process. Like Merrill's blood magic, it was potent but not without serious consequences. Using one's own life force should always be the last, desperate option. I had met Justice once and as with lyrium or blood, losing control must have been Anders' argument for not calling the spirit forth.
Roghart had encountered the witch earlier, but I doubted anything he had to say would clarify my eerie intuition Flemeth's gaze had caused. Like an oracle, she had dug into my mind and stolen a piece of a puzzle that I would find only when the flames were already burning.
I recalled what I had felt in Flemeth and her magic, how perfectly it was kept under control that I had to use my imagination to anticipate how alien and gushing it must have been. If she could add together red lyrium with sanity, blood with life and a spirit with self-consciousness, her identity was anything but human.