I'm not sure what to expect at the Chantry, but a million situations race through my mind as we walk. It could be a trap. Made by who though is still the question. Why are we even in danger? What does Felix have to do with this?
I push open the Chantry doors open, steeling the last of my nerves.
And I'm greeted with a mage, handsome and regel, punching a demon. He twirls his staff and the demon dissipates into goo.
A Rift shifts behind him, sending the Chantry into a green gloom.
The man glances at the pile of goo and turns to us. His skin is tanned, hair black and moustache styled in a very noble way.
"Ah, good! Finally you decide to turn up. Now help me close this, would you?"
I stand there gaping, but demons spew from the Rift before my brain can form a single thought.
Cassandra rushes past me, shield up and sword at the ready. I follow her as a blast of fire burns the nearest demon. Vivienne and the Attractive Moustache Man spin their staffs in similar dances, one twirling fire, the other ice.
A shield stops a ball of energy from hitting my face and in return, I slash at the demon tormenting Cassandra.
We spin and twirl around, watching each other's backs, blocking and slashing when we can. Cassandra grunts and stumbles back, but I stop her from falling and we both dodge a bolt of green energy.
Maybe Varric was right. We seem to trust each other with our lives—and Cassandra certainly has no quarrels with that. From the fire burning in her eyes, the permanent scowl, masculine body and her jaw line, it's easy to see she doesn't make friends easily. I just hope she's finally found one in me.
I screech as I drive a blade into a demon's head. It hisses and melts into goo.
"Two left!" yells Cassandra.
Varric runs straight towards a demon, getting its attention, "Over here, you demon."
"Great insult," I yell back.
But then Varric does something I was not expecting. He stops and leaps, flipping backwards high in the air. And at the peak of his jump, his lets lose a volley of arrows, aimed straight at the demon. Varric lands lightly on his feet and watches in smug amusement as the demon turns to goo, a puddle on the Chantry carpet.
"Watch out my dear," yells Vivienne. I turn just as a demon rushes towards me. A bolt of ice slams into a demon's eye and it gives out a pathetic attack, trying to stun me. I rock back on my heels, the demon's massive hand brushing past my face. But the creature's dying scream pierces through the Chantry and it melts into a puddle.
I hold my hand up, filling the pull of the Rift, but my mark is too much. The Rift seems to scream in protest, but I yank my hand back and the Rift explodes.
"What kind of move was that?" asks Cassandra, glaring at Varric. "You could have broken your neck."
Varric shrugs, slotting Bianca on his back, "Is that concern I hear in your tone, Seeker?"
"No," she snaps a little too quickly. "But if I had to haul you back o Haven because you broke your neck, I wouldn't be very happy."
"Well, I thought it was a pretty good move," I say.
Varric grins, "The Seeker's just jealous because I've got better moves than her."
Cassandra scoffs.
"As romantic as you two are, I'm still fascinated at your mark," Attractive Moustache Man says, turning to me.
"Romantic?" bellows Varric.
"How does it work, exactly?" he continues. I blink, glancing at my hand. The man laughs, "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers and boom! Rift closes."
I scratch my head, "Something like that. Who are you?"
"Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see. Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?"
"I do great," I blurt. Heat rushes to my cheeks, "I mean, I'm good."
"Do it good, do you?"
"Um. I'd like to think so."
"You're Tevinter?" asks Cassandra—thank the Maker for the change in subject. "I'd be careful."
"Suspicious friends you have here. Magister Alexius was once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable—as I'm sure you can imagine."
I try not to jolt, "You're betraying your mentor?"
"Alexius was my mentor. Meaning he's not any longer, not for some time."
"Ah," I say, pretending that I understand.
"Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious even without the note. Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the mage rebels out from under you. As if by magic, yes? Which is exactly right. To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."
"Well, that sounds bad."
"Certainly a dangerous type of magic," says Vivienne.
"The Rift you closed here? You saw how it twisted time around itself, sped some things up and slowed others down," explains the Dorian.
And he's right—the same thing happened here as it had just outside Redcliffe.
"Soon, there will be more like it and they'll appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable, and it's unraveling the world."
I swallow, trying to take it all in, "How do you know about this?"
"I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it? Ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackeys."
"He didn't do it for them," comes a voice. I spin to see Felix walking towards us. He inclines his head towards me then turns his attention to Dorian.
Dorian smiles, "Took you long enough. Is he getting suspicious?"
My head is swirling with this whole situation, "What?" I manage to get out.
"No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." Felix looks at me, "My father's joined a cult. Tevinter Supremacists. They call themselves Venatori. And I can tell you one thing, whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."
"Me? There's nothing that special about me."
"Except you survived the Conclave explosion and bare the mark of Andraste," reminds Cassandra.
"Oh yeah," I say. Clearing my throat, I glance at Dorian, "Do you have any suggestions?"
"You know you're his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliffe. Alexius doesn't know I'm here. And I want to keep it that way for now. But whenever you're ready to deal with him, I want to be there. I'll be in touch." Dorian turns, but stops, "Oh and Felix? Try not to get yourself killed." He sneaks off towards the back of the Chantry.
"There are worse things than dying, Dorian," I hear Felix mutter, before he too, leaves us.
I groan, "Templars or the mages—both need help."
Cassandra's eyes are solemn, "It would be best to ask the advisors for help on this issue."
+++
But of course, retuning to Haven only leads to a few drinks at the tavern. Varric had somehow mustered everyone down to the tavern—even Solas.
Sera slushes her drink around, "But no breeches, yeah! You should have seen Lyds' face." She leans forward, "Though the Seeker looked like she's never seen a butt before."
"I was there, and I must say it was pretty funny," confirms Varric.
Iron Bull bellows out a laugh, "Next time, take their underclothes."
Sera cackles, "Oh, that would be grand! Those tits would have nothing to hide!"
"I was wondering why we had so many spare pants," says Josephine.
"And I had heard from my agents there was a shortage of mercenaries in Val Royeaux for hire. They're all trying to find more breeches to wear," smiles Leliana.
We sit huddled around a wooden table, cups full of mead and ale—though Bull's and Varric are nearly empty. Cassandra only takes little sips from hers, watching the members converse.
"I'd much prefer if I didn't have to fight men without underclothes," I say.
"And women," grins Sera.
I smile, "And women."
"Ugh," says Cassandra. "Fighting naked means death."
"Exactly! We could cut them all down," yells Sera. But her eyes watch Casandra suspiciously, "Have you ever even seen one?"
"What?"
"A peni—"
"OK, who wants another drink?" asks Varric, a little too loud. But no one says anything if they noticed the distraction.
Iron Bull grins, "Another keg of beer!"
"Mead!" yells Sera, sculling down what's left of her drink. "More mead!"
Bull looks at me, "And you, Herald?"
"Oh, I'm… I'm fine," I say with a smile. "I might head back if that's OK."
"Come on Herald, just one more?"
I stand, "Maybe later Bull. I've… I've just got to get my thoughts together."
The table goes quiet and faces turn solemn. Bull nods, "As you wish boss."
I swallow back guilt—they're trying to have a good time and I'm here stuck in my thoughts about mages and Templars.
"It would be best if we all headed off, after all, we do have a big day tomorrow," says Leliana.
Cassandra stands, "We will have to decide who we help."
Thanks for the reminder.
And so we all file from the tavern, Sera grumbling something about not being able to tell her story.
I leave the others without saying a word, the rising panic slowing clouding my vision. What if we choose the wrong party? The Templars would fight off any demon the Breach throws at us, but they could just as easily fall under Lord Seeker Lucius' spell and shut everyone out. And the mages? They could be very powerful allies, yet they could also be our enemies—now that they're under the command of Tevinter.
I sigh, my breath clouding in front of me.
"Herald?"
I spin quickly, sending a silent prayer to the Maker for not tripping, "Commander?"
He swallows, "I ah… just wanted to make sure you were alright."
A smile creeps to my lips, "I'm alright Cullen, just a little… stressed."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we've received a number of recruits—locals from Haven and some pilgrims."
I smile, "Well that's good to know… at least we'll have soldiers if this mission turns to shit."
The Commander lets out a small laugh.
"So… ah, how did you get recruited to the Inquisition?" I ask, steering the conversation from the depressing subject.
"I was in Kirkwall during the mage uprising—I saw firsthand the devastation it caused. Cassandra recruited me—she was searching for a solution so offered me a position. I left the Templars to join her cause." His eyes flick to the Breach, swirling in the night sky. The green light sends a gloom over the Frostback Mountains. "Now it seems we face something far worse."
I nod, "But I must have this mark for a reason. It will work, I'm sure it will."
"Provided we can secure aid… but I'm confident we can," he smiles, the cut on his upper lip moving. "We just have to choose who will aid us. The Chantry lost control of both mages and Templars. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There's so much we can—" He stops himself. "Forgive me. I doubt you wanted a lecture from me. Especially at this time of night."
I smile, "No… but if you have one prepared, I love to hear it."
He laughs, green light glinting in his chocolaty eyes, "Another time perhaps."
I smile, "I look forward to it."
"I, ah…" he clears his throat. "I better let you sleep. Decisions to be made tomorrow, and all."
Blinking, I snap from the trance he's put me in, "Oh, um. Yeah. I better let you go too."
He inclines his head, "Well have a good night then."
"You too."
He turns footsteps left in the snow behind him, "And stay warm, it's a bit cold tonight."
I clear my throat, "I'll try." I watch him disappear, but my legs don't move—even if I can feel the icy bite.
I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks and my mind keeps wandering to those eyes of his. I shake my head, he's probably got many admirers already.
Pushing my door open, I glance at the book sitting stacked neatly in the book case. Taking it, I decide to read for a little bit—after all, it may keep my thoughts from the handsome Commander and the decision.