The journey through the hinterlands was comparatively smoother this time around, in the absence of the rebel templars and mages. Some of the Crossroads refugees, those whose homes still remained intact, had already left, and would-be bandits had quickly learned the new watchtowers installed by the Inquisition would make stealing more trouble than it was worth. The field hospital which Mother Giselle had first set up had been given the opportunity to grow in the absence of the refugees, particularly for those not well enough to seek healing in Denerim, so when the Inquisitor's party took the opportunity to rest within the village for the night, Fae snuck off to see if she could provide some of that healing. After a brief moment of panic, then chagrin, then resignation, Cassandra sent Sera to collect Fae before they ate supper without her. The elf known as Red Jenny, or at the very least a Red Jenny, arrived in time to catch the tail-end of a disagreement between an injured soldier, one of the Chantry sisters, and Fae, although the latter didn't seem to be so much participating in the argument as much as she was the cause of it.
When Fae noticed Sera's presence, she quietly said her farewells and allowed herself to be escorted back to the Inquisition's lodgings. After the last conversation she'd been involved in, Fae didn't really feel like talking, but it was practically impossible to ignore Sera's eyes boring into the side of her head.
"What, Sera?"
"Why don't you get angry?"
"What, in general? I… get angry," Fae frowned, confused.
Sera giggled. "At Commander Feather-Frills, sure, I heard about that. But I mean just now. Back there. You were offering to heal that man's injury and he told you to shove it. You were just trying to help and he acted like you were the one who hurt him."
"Maybe magic hurt him," she shrugged. "Hard to tell with burns."
"But not your magic."
"He didn't know me, or my magic. To him, all magic is the same, and all magic is scary. You've said as much yourself before."
"Well, yeah, most of it is scary, but that was before I knew how good healing magic feels," Sera justified. "But doesn't it make you angry, that everyone thinks you're the bad guy because you have magic, no matter what you use it for?"
Fae let out a loud exhale. "It would have, once. Now it just makes me sad, so can we please drop it?"
"So you get sad, not angry."
"Those two feelings are not that different."
"Pssh. Of course they are. One is sad, and one is angry."
"Ok, Sera."
For all the relative hard-won peace in the region, the Fade rift in front of Redcliffe's gates still spat demons, making entry impossible as the guards on the other side of the gate warned them not to approach the next morning. The Herald and her companions dismounted and promptly got to work, but as they fought, it became clear that this rift was causing an unusual phenomenon. Cassandra charged one of the creatures, moving through the air much faster than her heavy armour should have allowed, while Fae swung her staff towards another, watching in bewilderment as it lagged sluggishly. It reminded her of childhood dreams where she'd try to run, only to find her feet too heavy to move. And then the lag was gone, and the sudden relative weightlessness of her ironwood staff threw her off balance, as Cassandra picked herself up off the ground after her sword lurched forward and pinned a demon in the dirt. Ellethir flung her hand up, and Fae watched as thick ropes of light connected with the rift, forcing it to withdraw into itself until it disappeared with a deafening pop.
"What…was that?" Ellethir breathed, shaking her marked hand out as it flared down.
"None of my reports indicated temporal disruptions near these rifts. Interesting," Vivienne said thoughtfully.
"Maker have mercy," a soldier exclaimed on the other side of the closed gates. "It's over! Open the gates!"
The gates screeched as they were pulled up, and a stony-faced Inquisition scout came to meet them.
"We spread word that the Inquisition was coming, but you should know that no one here was expecting us," he said gravely.
"No one?" Ellethir frowned. "Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?"
The scout shook his head. "If she was, she hasn't told anyone. We've arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations."
Behind him, an elven man in shabby robes hurried up to the group.
"Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies!" He said breathlessly. "Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn't yet arrived. He's expected shortly. You can speak with the former grand enchanter in the meantime, if you like?"
"A magister?" Fae muttered.
"Is it just me, or is something weird going on here?" Varric replied under his breath.
"Definitely," she affirmed, moving closer to the Herald. "Something's wrong, Herald. The arl of Redcliffe is the one who's usually in charge here, and he's an extended member of Ferelden's royal family. He would never leave his seat of office in the hands of a foreigner."
"We must speak with Fiona at once," Vivienne said firmly, following the robed man in stride.
The tavern was crowded with mages, but they moved aside to allow Fiona to greet the Herald.
"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition," she said seriously, then nodded to Vivienne when she saw her among their number. "First Enchanter Vivienne."
"My dear Fiona, it's been so long since we last spoke," Vivienne said sweetly. "You look dreadful! Are you sleeping well?"
Fiona set her jaw. "What has brought you to Redcliffe?" she asked.
"We're here because of your invitation back in Val Royeaux," Ellethir answered carefully.
Fiona looked perplexed. "You must be mistaken. I haven't been to Val Royeaux since before the conclave."
Ellethir exchanged a glance with Fae. "If it wasn't you who invited me here, then who was it?"
Fiona's shoulders dropped. "I…I don't know. Now that you say it, I feel strange," she admitted. "But regardless of whoever, or whatever brought you here, the situation has changed. The free mages have already…pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium."
That caused some mumbling amongst the Herald's party.
"Fiona dear, your dementia is showing," Vivienne said in the same honey-sweet tone.
"We came because you—or someone that looked and sounded exactly like you, said you and the other rebel mages could help us," Ellethir pressed.
Fiona shook her head helplessly. "As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you."
"Indentured?" Fae's jaw dropped. "You fought for mage freedom only to give it away? To a magister? You do know what they do to elves in Tevinter, let alone foreign mages?"
"And what about the giant hole in the Veil that's spewing demons everywhere? You're just going to pretend it isn't there?" Ellethir added.
Fiona huffed. "I am not forgetting the Breach, but we can only fight one war at a time. The templar threat was immediate. If we live, we can worry about the torn Veil."
The crowd around them began to shift again, as a new figure joined them.
"Welcome, my friends," the strangely-dressed man said, his arms open wide in welcome. "I apologise for not greeting you earlier."
"Agents of the Inquisition, allow me to introduce Magister Gereon Alexius," Fiona said formally.
"These southern mages are under my command," Alexius explained, eyeing Ellethir's hand. "And you are the survivor, yes? The one from the Fade? Interesting."
"I am," Ellethir confirmed. "But I'm not sure I understand this alliance between the rebel mages and the Imperium. Fiona said they're indentured to you?"
Alexius smiled genially. "Just so. Our southern brethren have no legal status in the Imperium. As they were not born citizens of Tevinter, they must work for a period of ten years before gaining full rights. As their protector, I shall oversee their work for the Imperium."
"…Right. And when exactly was this agreement made?"
"When the conclave was destroyed, these poor souls faced the brutality of the templars, who rushed to attack them. It could only be through divine providence that I arrived when I did, so I could make an offer on the Imperium's behalf," Alexius explained, looking to Fiona.
"It was certainly… very timely," she conceded.
"But why would the Imperium make such an offer?"
"For the moment, the southern mages are a considerable expense. After they are properly trained, they will join our legion."
"You said not all my people would be military!" Fiona suddenly protested. "There are children, those not suited—"
Alexius waved a hand dismissively. "And one day I'm sure they will all be productive citizens of the Imperium. When their debts are paid."
"Where is the arl?" Fae asked. "If he is the one who granted refuge to the rebel mages, surely he had something to say about this?"
Alexius regarded her with a flash of annoyance that he quickly hid behind another smile. "The arl of Redcliffe left the village."
"He left," Fae repeated, clearly unconvinced.
"Indeed. There were… tensions, growing. I did not want an incident."
Ellethir had obviously come to some decision, mirroring the magister's polite smile. "Well then. If you're leading the mages now, then let's talk. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."
"I'm sure," Alexius agreed, offering her a seat at a nearby table. "It is always a pleasure to meet a reasonable woman. Felix, would you send for a scribe, please?" he asked as he sat down opposite the Herald. "Pardon my manners. My son Felix, friends."
The young man gave a short bow before he left.
"I'm not surprised you're here," Alexius leaned back in his seat. "Containing the Breach is not a feat that many could even attempt. There is no telling how many mages would be needed for such an endeavour. Ambitious, indeed."
Ellethir leaned back in her own chair. "Well, when you're fighting a massive tear in the sky, you can hardly afford to think small."
"There will have to be—" Alexius paused when he noticed Felix approaching the table once more, wobbly on his feet as he stumbled in the Herald's direction. Ellethir stood up, and Felix put up a hand to indicate he was alright, but as he reached Ellethir, he stumbled and fell to his knees in front of her.
"Felix!" Alexius cried out in alarm.
"I'm so sorry! Please forgive my clumsiness, my lady," Felix stammered.
Alexius strode around the table. "Are you alright?"
Felix nodded. "I'm fine, Father."
But Alexius wouldn't hear it. "Come, I'll get your powders. Please excuse me, friends. We will have to continue this another time. Fiona, I require your assistance back at the castle."
Felix grimaced apologetically as he left, leaning on his father's arm for support. "I don't mean to trouble everyone."
Alexius glanced behind him. "I shall send word to the Inquisition. We will conclude this business at a later date."
"What in the Void is going on?" Fae shook her head as Ellethir passed her a slip of paper that Felix had surreptitiously pressed into her hands.
"'Come to the chantry. You are in danger,'" she read out loud. "Yeah, no shit."
"Ooh, very mysterious," Varric wiggled his fingers. "Shall we? It could be a trap."
Ellethir nodded. "We'll be careful, but we need to figure out what's going on here."