Dragon Age: Through The Looking Glass [1x1 Luxii and Lumeneire]

[Luxii]

Skylar Bartel

Aiden Dinar
​

It had been a quiet morning so far, but Skylar knew the calm would not last. At any other time, the scenery of the Hinterlands would have been almost peaceful. It was a fertile land, dotted here and there with farmsteads in between the forests. The climate was mild, a pleasant change from the weather during her long journey from Kirkwall.


When that damned apostate Anders set off this war with an explosion that obliterated the entirety of Kirkwall's chantry, everything had changed. Skylar hadn't remained in the city long, especially when Knight-Commander Meredith had invoked the Right of Annulment. When Skylar had taken her Templar vows, the Right of Annulment was of course mentioned, but no one had invoked the Right since 9:30 Towers when the Knight-Commander of Antiva killed all of the city's mages for demonic possession. That Skylar could understand, but she would not cut down all of Kirkwall's mages just because of the actions of one. Anders hadn't even been a part of the Circle, he was an apostate acting under his own free will


She had felt uneasy for many months before all of this had come to head. There were whispers all through Kirkwall of the Knight-Commander's growing instability, but Skylar had never thought she would have taken it this far. After Meredith had placed the order for the Right, Skylar knew she could not be a part of what was about to happen next.


In her time as a Templar at Kirkwall, Skylar had grown particularily close to one of the mages she had seen through his Harrowing. His name was Aiden, and he had this uncanny ability to make Skylar laugh. He was one of those people that radiated goodness and purity and kindness - all of the things that Skylar wasn't. They had formed a close companionship over the last seven years, and Skylar would've been damned if she didn't protect him in this chaotic time.


It took some convincing but they had made it out of the city before the worst happened. Later on, they heard stories that after the Champion of Kirkwall sided with the mages, Meredith revealed her own corruption. Her mind had been twisted by a new red lyrium until she even saw her own Templars as threats. Skylar hoped the Knight-Commander's ending had been swift.


The appearance of this new lyrium made Skylar uneasy. Normal lyrium was already something to not be taken lightly - in it's raw form it could cause any number of ailments: deafness, blistering of the skin, paranoia, dementia, and delusions. But the Chantry controlled most of the lyrium trade, using it in it's processed form for mages' Harrowings and administering it to their Templars as a way to boost their magic immunity and unlock more hidden talents. It was also very useful in crafting enchanted weaponry and armor. Skylar's broadsword was inlaid with a vein of lyrium spiraled into the blade - it had cost her nearly a year's wages, but it was her most prized possession.


Before leaving Kirkwall, Skylar had the sense to shatter Aiden's phylactery and to steal a hefty supply of liquid lyrium for herself. Templars had to ingest the blue liquid daily; Skylar heard the side effects of lyrium withdrawl were not pretty. Her supply was dwindling low, so she would have to find a way to replenish it in the next week or so.


And so, here they were: a Templar run-away and a now apostate mage. There had been stories of First-Enchanter Fiona's refuge in Redcliffe for mages who had broken away from the Circles. Skylar made it her top priority to get Aiden there. It was but a day's journey away now. There was no telling how welcoming these apostates would be to a Templar, but Skylar sought to keep that part of her identity a secret for as long as she could.


The pair had set up camp in a small clearing hidden by lots of brush. It had kept them hidden under the cover of darkness well enough, but now that the sun was climbing into the sky, Skylar knew they would have to move or risk being attacked by rogue mages and Templars.


Aiden could have slept all day. Skylar threw a glance to where he was sleeping on the ground with a tree root as a pillow. He looked much younger than his twenty four years, particularly with his head lolled back and eyes closed - his fringe of auburn hair curled over his forehead messily and his nose twitched in his sleep. It caused the splash of freckles across his face to dance.


A crack of a twig snapping underfoot caused Skylar's blood to freeze in her veins. She listened hard, reaching for her sword quietly. There were three distinct voices, the clank of their armor led Skylar to believe it was probably a passing group of Templars.


Aiden grunted and rolled over in his sleep. Skylar wanted to slap him for it. In the stillness of the forest his sleepy groan seemed to carry much farther than it should have.


"You hear that?" one of the voices said.


Andraste's flaming ass...


The footsteps came closer. Skylar lowered herself onto her belly, sword gripped so tightly in her left hand that her knuckles were white. With every fiber in her being she willed Aiden to be quiet. If the Templars looked down into this little clearing, it was all over. But since the pair was flat against the ground for the moment, perhaps they would be passed over unseen.


"It was probably a boar." There was a second voice.


The sound of bushes being rustled several paces away made Skylar relax slightly. They weren't as close as she thought.


"Eh, yer probably right," the first voice said. "Damn boar are every where."


Their footsteps clanked off to the east and Skylar let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She stomped over to where Aiden lay and whacked him on the back of his auburn head.


The mage startled awake. "Whaa---" He sat up, simultaneously rubbing the back of his head and blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Maker, Sky! What'd you do that for?" he whined.


"You almost gave us away," she hissed at him, her amber eyes flashing. She adjusted the straps of her boots, then slung on her pack. "There's a group of Templars not far off that way." Her fingers guestured off into the east. "So keep it quiet, will you?"


Aiden rolled to his feet sheepishly. "Sorry, Sky," he said with a pout. The mage made quick work of packing up. He pulled on his dark green cloak and fastened it. His pack was smaller than Skylar's and he could wear in on the side of his belt. He leaned on his staff for support, almost lounging, as he waiting for Skylar to be ready.


The warrior couldn't stay mad at him for long. She never could. With a groan, she rolled her eyes at him, but her irritation melted away.


"We only have a day's walk until Redcliffe, so let's keep up the pace, m'kay?"


She slung her broadsword over her back. It was her preference to keep her blade unsheathed, especially in this hostile environment. The blade was almost as long as she, granted at 4'11'' Skylar was not the tallest woman in Thedas. The pairing of her stature and monstrous blade always attracted stares.


Aiden smiled. "You got it, boss lady," he teased.

 

[Lumeneire]

Faelyn Wervandran
​

Faelyn sat cross legged on the floor, with her palms facing up towards the sky and her eyelids squeezed shut as if she were asleep. Her snow white hair whipped wildly across her face, catching on the sheer edges of her features and curling around the points of her ears. Amidst the mossy floor of the forest, tiny critters skittered out of their hidey holes and crawled their way across her long and elegant legs. Faelyn barely noticed, her mind was in another world.


For hours she had meditated and attempted to connect with the spirits on the other side and finally, her body had synchronised with the fade. In her mind, on the other side of existence, her emerald eyes whipped open and burst with excitement at the site. All around her were pools of murky water and gaseous explosions. Everything had a tint of green, from the broiling sky to the crumbling ground. Faelyn daren't move a muscle as she cautiously cast her gaze amidst her surroundings, caressing every foreign object with her inquisitive eyes. The energy inside her tingled and fizzled like electricity running through her veins. It was an indescribable thrill, to be on another plane of existence.


She chose to stay where she was, knowing that what she was searching for would soon enough find her. Desperation reeked from her consciousness like a dog on heat and a demon would latch onto that scent, like a leech. Whilst she waited, she paid no more heed to the strange surroundings and focused all of her energy into forming a mental barrier. She was fully aware that what she was doing was not only dangerous, but in most cases positively deadly. If she didn't protect her mind from the influence of the evil surrounding her, her soul could be devoured and trapped for eternity, doomed to forever wander the fade. Even worse, a harmful spirit could claim her mortal body for their own and possess her flesh, wreaking catastrophic mayhem upon the world.


As she concentrated, willing the barrier to hide away her most private thoughts and dangerous secrets, she felt a presence tug at the open parts of her mind. A daring smile crept up her face and she remained still with her eyes closed, baiting the curious creature with the stench of desire. The sensation hit her again and this time, it felt as if tiny claws were scratching at the base of her skull. Without warning, a deep and distorted voice echoed in her ears. She had been expecting it of course, but the sly words still made her hair stand on end.


"Hello, Faelyn Wervandren. I sense you are here seeking something. Searching for an answer to a burning question." Faelyn did not falter and continued to increase the power of her barrier, acting as if she cared not for the demons presence. She felt the creature's mind press closer into hers, trying to find bait to reel her in. "I see you are quite strong, apostate she elf." The last words were spat out with a venomous inflection. She couldn't tell if the creature was expressing his disgust for elves, females or mages. Either way, it did not bother her; she had been judged her entire life and not once had she given it a second thought. She knew who she was and she wouldn't waver from a simple insult. This made the demon even more furious and it's claws dug deeper into her mind. This time, she felt a piercing pain stab at the barrier she had risen but knew it would not be able to surpass it no matter how hard it tried. It hissed with frustration and withdrew it's consciousness from her own.


Faelyn whipped open her closed eyelids and stood in front of her was the distorted image of a man. It looked as if the demon was trying to replicate a male elf, but hadn't truly met one in a long time. The main features were there, but the proportions were slightly off. The chin was jutting out too far, with sharp fangs presenting themselves in an underbite. His legs were too long and his torso too slim. He looked like a stretched out version of a male elf she used to know, one that she had hated, and that in fact was making her job easier. The creature changed tactics and tried to smile, with one of his fangs snagging on his upper lip. It was a ridiculous sight, considering he was trying to appear menacing. Faelyn responded with a dramatic yawn whilst flinging her hands above her head and stretching like a cat. She quickly hopped to her feet and brushed down her black dress, as if she was completely unaware of the monstrosity stood before her.


"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want something?" The demon crossed his arms in defiance and scowled with his solid black eyes. Her voice was melodic compared to his, with a raspy undertone underneath every perfectly spoken word. "Can I help you with something sir?" The monster couldn't help but laugh at her arrogance and slipped a conmans smile onto his square face.


"I believe it is I who can help you, oh beautiful mage." Faelyn pretended to blush and rolled her eyes in response.


"Oh you do flatter me. Actually, I believe there is a little something you could help me with." The demon lapped up the words and sniffed the air, sucking in the scent of desire and desperation. He steadied himself, aware that he was giving himself away and drew his attention back to the elf.


"Please, ask away. I am nothing but your humble servant." Faelyn had him by the metaphorical balls. She had known all along that a desire demon would sniff her out and try anything to weasel out the question lingering at the back of her mind. It was like a drug to them, they would do anything to get their hands on that desperation and once they did, they would exploit it until there was nothing left of the being. The problem was, Faelyn's question was so complex and unanswerable, that he would have to actually search for the answer first before striking a bargain with her.


"I would like to ask you a question if that is okay?" The demon nodded eagerly as his hands rubbed together like a miser revelling in their gold. "I want to know about the Eternal City and how to reach the gods that lay beyond." The demons eyes narrowed and he flinchingly recoiled backwards, as if he had been struck by a barrel of boiling water. His eyes were no longer black, but as green as the very fade itself, with a dark thin slit in the middle, like that of a cat or a snake. He had become defensive and Faelyn had underestimated the strength of her desire.


"Leave this place mage!" He hissed through his demented jaw. "Even demons do not speak of that place. I do not care how big a prize your soul would be, I will have no part in this." Before Faelyn could speak, the demon had folded in on itself and shrunk into a plume of black smoke. It's bodiless being flitted away into the distance, across bubbling puddles and mushroom covered rocks. Faelyn's hand unknowingly reached outwards, now grasping at nothing but air. Frustration and confusion was evident on her face through her furrowed brows. She cursed under her breath, angered by the demons reaction and by her own eagerness.


She sat back down on the floor, this time without elegance but more like a child suffering through a tantrum and ground her teeth into one another. Her focus dropped from the barrier in her mind and snapped her back to reality. By the time she opened her eyes again, the cloudy green of the fade was nothing but a memory. Instead, all around her were tall trees, rustling bushes and tweeting birds. Faelyn scraped her tousled white hair out of her face and stifled the frustrated scream brewing in her throat. Her nostrils flared and her fist slammed into the ground, narrowly missing a millipede skittering along, completely unaware of the insanity that had just occurred.

 

[Luxii]

The sun was beginning to set as they approached the gates of Redcliffe. The outline of the town could be seen in stark contrast to the sherbet colors of the sky. Skylar was in a foul mood; her plans of getting to Redcliffe before the sun went down had been foiled. There had just been too many renegade mages and Templars alike to fight through in order to make it this far. Her sword was dirty, crusted with blood. Drops of blood had dried where they fell on her armor and face; and the roads had been dusty, so there was a film of dirt everywhere.


Aiden was not much better off. He sagged against his staff for support, using it as more of a walking stick more than anything. The fights had taken their toll on him as well. He had drawn on more power than normal in order to keep up with the skirmishes from earlier. The edge of his cloak was singed where a fireball had gotten too close for comfort, and there were dark circles under his eyes.


The pair desparately needed rest. As Redcliffe loomed closer and closer rest became a more tangible possibility. They paused down the hill from the main gate - it was lowered, which Skylar thought was odd. It certainly didn't make a welcoming impression.


"I can do the talking," Aiden offered.


"Yea," Skylar nodded. She readjusted her grip on her sword's pommel, shifting so that the sword spanned both of her shoulders. It was long enough that she could rest both of her wrists over the pommel and tip of the blade, respectively. This would probably go smoother if she didn't offer up any information about herself. As long as Aiden could find a place here, that was good enough for her.


Aiden led them up the hill right up to the gate. The lit torches cast everything into strange shadow now that the sun had disappeared entirely.


"We seek refuge." Aiden's voice boomed. He really could sound commanding if he wanted to, a far cry from the seventeen year old boy Skylar had met so long ago.


There was a swish of robes from behind the gate and a torch bobbed closer to them. A middle-aged man with a full beard stared at them through the bars. "Who seeks refuge?"


"I'm Aiden Dinar, formerly of the Circle at Kirkwall." The mage guestured to Skylar, who had hung back a pace or two. "And this is Skylar Bartel, a friend."


The man behind the gate appraised the pair of travelers, his gaze rested a little longer on Skylar. She wasn't sure if he stared at her because of her sword or because of her sex. Either way, she didn't like it, but she forced her expression to remain neutral.


After several moments the man nodded, and with a wave of his hand, the gate began to lift. Aiden led the way into the city, Skylar just at his heels.


"You've come a long way," the man said once they had crossed the threshold into the city. "Shame about that mess at Kirkwall, but those bloody fuckin' Templars had it comin'."


Skylar bristled at the negative comments, but Aiden smoothly diffused the situation with his next sentence. "We heard Grand-Enchanter Fiona offered refuge her for any mages without a Circle. If that is the case, then our journey was well worth it."


"Aye," the man confirmed with a nod of his head. "That be the case, boy." He pointed a gnarled finger down the road ahead. "Just go up the hill there and the tavern be on the left. If you've coin enough you can find food and drink and even a bed if you're lucky."


Aiden bobbed his head in thanks. "You're most kind, sir. Thank you, Maker guide you."


"And you as well, boy."


The trek to the tavern didn't take them long, only a few minutes if that. The bar was in a lively mood, well lit by torches. A bard sang a rousing anthem that most of the patrons seemed to know - everyone was singing along with their drinks in their hands. Skylar left her sword with Aiden and approached the barkeeper.


"What can I do for ye, lass?"


She slid two gold coins across the table. "I would have a room for the night, and hot food and drink if you have any to spare."


The portly man's eyes widened and he plucked the coins from the table. "O' course, lass. The room upstairs at the end of the hall is yours. You can settle in and come back down for supper."


Skylar nodded her thanks, then returned to Aiden where he had found a corner to lean into. "We have a room," she said with a smile.


"Oh thank the Maker," Aiden exclaimed, flinging his hand across his brow dramatically. "I didn't know if I could take another step." A grin split his face.


Skylar rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly and clapped the mage on the back. "Let's go settle in."


They made their way through the crowd of drunken patrons, twisting this way and that way to make it through. The staircase was steep, and Skylar's legs burned when they reached the top.


The room was small, but cozy. A bed - big enough for two, thankfully - and a nightstand with a burning candle were the only pieces of furniture. There was a handmade rug on the floor, and hooks for their cloaks. Aiden stripped down to his linen pants, hanging his cloak and robes on one of the hooks. His upper body was littered with scars, most old, some new. It made Skylar's heart ache to see them.


The mage climbed into the bed, a pulled the blankets over him with a contented sigh.


"What? No bath or dinner?" Skylar teased.


Aiden didn't even bother turning around to answer. Skylar could see his hair sway as he shook his head "no".


She tucked her sword under the bed, just under the edge if she needed it. Then she too peeled away her armor, stacking the pieces up against the bottom of the bed, until just her leather breeches and linen top were left.


"I'm going to get some food. Want anything?"


Aiden was already snoring softly. The poor boy must've been exhausted.


Skylar tiptoed out of the room, and softly shut the door behind her. It didn't take her long to find a seat in one of the corner tables. Maker, it felt so good to sit down and to be out of her armor. As she stretched her legs out under the table, a young maid approached her.


"What can I get for ye, milady?"


"Something warm to eat and water would be lovely, thank you."


"Right away, milady," the maid said and then she was gone to check on another set of patrons.


While she waited for her food, Skylar had a chance to really observe her surroundings. Many of these people were Fereldan, that was apparently by their manner of dress and in how they spoke. But there were a few Skylar could not place... She listened in on a low conversation between two men to the left of her. They were speaking Tevene. But what were citizens from the Tevinter Imperium doing here?


The Imperium was well-known for it's decadant life-style, and for being deep rooted in their history and culture. Ambition and magical ability were the hallmarks of their ruling elite - the magisters. Slavery was still allowed in the Imperium and it was not uncommon for humans, elves, and even Qunari to be sold into servitude. And though blood magic was banned in the Imperium ages ago, it was really only a rule on paper. Skylar had heard that even the most devout mages in Tevinter knew the basics of blood magic. And those who practiced it were quietly acknowledged as the most proficient dreamers and diviners.


From how these men were dressed, it was obvious that they were magisters. Skylar shifted in her seat and scanned the rest of the crowd. It looked like there were a handful of other magisters spread throughout the tavern. This was not good at all. What reason did Fiona have to invite magisters from the Imperium here?


Once the barmaid brought out her supper - it was a warm soup with a side of crusty bread and a tankard full of water - Skylar almost forgot about her reservations of the magisters and busied herself with eating. This was possibly the best thing she had eaten since leaving Kirkwall. The soup warmed her belly pleasantly and the bread was still moist in the center with a satisfyingly crunchy outside. Aiden would have to get his own food, in the morning, she decided.

 

[Lumeneire]

Raith



​

Raith was a complicated man. He was known mostly for his talents in thievery and lockpicking. On more than one occasion, his hobbies had thrown him into perilous trouble, but as per usual, the slippery bastard would escape unscathed. Many sought after him, both for his talents and for his head but rarely was he ever found, unless he chose to be. His personality was charming and poisonous; once you were drawn in, whether he wanted you to or not, you would be dragged down into the chaotic whirlwind that was his life. A few times, he had taken it upon himself to mentor apprentices, to pass on his legacy and build an army of thieves and scallywags, but every single time, his apprentice would meet a grisly demise, an unsavoury end, a messy exit out of this existence. Raith was travelling alone now, long since ditching his last comrade, using him as a shield against an onslaught of armour piercing arrows, that poor soul had definitely met an agonising and messy death.


He stood in the treeline besides the gates of Redcliffe, for days he had been watching, waiting for his chance to enter the city. He knew that inside held glorious treasures and gullible fools to pickpocket and trick. But he had wanted to enter when he had found a promising target to follow, someone he could start working on straight away, in case the scene behind those walls was one he didn't want to stay in for long. As he had sat amongst the shadows of the bushes, he had witnessed strange people entering the city and his heightened senses had warned him to be overly cautious. Since the sky had torn open, many a strange thing had happened in Ferelden; everything was changing and Raith wanted to be one step ahead at all times.


His trained eye focused on two travellers nearing the gate. One was a male, possibly a mage from the way he presented himself, meaning that he was an apostate and unpredictable. The other was a woman, a warrior, a Templar. She hid her true identity well, the inexperienced guards at the gate wouldn't notice the surety in her walk or the way she stood close to her charge, guarding him as if he himself were made of gold. Raith licked his lips with anticipation and dusted himself down. He had spent close to a week amongst the forest and tiny twigs and leaves had embedded themselves into the detailed designs in his leather apparel. He would have groomed himself sooner, but the extra camouflage didn't hurt, especially when strangers had been fumbling through the woods, running past him on their search for Redcliffe. He swept his unkempt fringe from his face and strutted out of the woods like a king. Confidence was the key in his line of work and he wasn't about to doubt that now.


He sauntered over slowly, waiting for the two travellers to disappear behind the gate, then casually strolled up to the guards, beaming at them as if they were old friends. "Halt there. Who are you and why do you seek passage into Redcliffe?" Raith stopped in his tracks and looked all around him as if he was uncertain as to whom the guard was speaking to. He pointed to himself comically and raised his brows whilst miming 'me?'. "Yes you, who else would I be talking to. Now state your business here stranger!" Raith dropped the confusion and took a stride forwards. As he stepped, he stooped into a majestic bow and let his hair fall over his face. As he spoke, the first guard couldn't help but smile at the theatrics and musical voice, whereas the other, subtly reached for the hilt of his sword.


"My name is Fetrick the Bard. I humbly ask that you allow me passage into the city so that I may make a few coins in these troubling times." He finished his sentence by bouncing back out of his bow and whipping his hair back dramatically. He quickly glanced at the two guards and the first was already sold. He was bored by his job, constantly having to scrutinize any poor soul that wandered towards Redcliffe, but the other still grazed the hilt of his sword with his fingertips. Raith focused all of his attention on him, figuring out the best way to gain his belief. He seemed like a serious man, one who needed to enjoy the lighter side of life, a being who needed something beautiful to remind him that life wasn't as dire as he believed.


Raith took a step back, straightened himself up and slid his small lute that he kept hidden in a holster at the base of his spine. He used a bard as his cover on many an occasion, it granted him access to taverns with drunken fools, made him appear harmless and fun. It was his cover for the real pickpocketing and thievery he dabbled in but when the situation hadn't proved fruitful, his talents with music allowed him to make an honest penny. He would never admit it to himself and would always stipulate it was part of his disguise, but he enjoyed it. He struck a chord on his instrument to make sure it was in tune and coughed heartily in his throat to loosen his voice box. The two guardsman were staring at him with anticipation and curiosity.


"Enchanters!


The time has come to be alive


In the Circle of Magi, where we will thrive


With our brothers."


At this point, he noticed that both men were tapping their feet to the haunting melody of the song and his strong, yet soothing singing voice. His own foot started to tap to the beat and a charismatic smile stretched across his stubbled face.


"Enchanters remind


That time will not unwind.


The dragon’s crooked spine,


Will never straighten into line."


He would have gone on longer, but if he wasted any more time, he would be unable to track down the two travellers he had chosen as his prize. As he let his fingers fall from the strings and reached behind his back,to strap the lute safely to it's holster, the happier guard clapped heartily, whilst the other grunted with disappointment. The man didn't want to admit he was enjoying the light heartedness of the performance, almost as much as Raith didn't want to admit he had enjoyed it. The serious guard nodded his head once, now convinced of Raith's lie and opened the gate for him to enter.


As he passed by them, Raith turned to the angry guard and noticed the deep scars along his face, hidden underneath his shining helmet. A sad pit sank to the bottom of his stomach and he realised that the soldier had probably seen troubling things and was unlucky enough to not escape unscathed, unlike Raith. "Thank you for granting me passage. I will hopefully be playing at one of the taverns tonight, you should come along, not all is lost my friend." A silent light twinkled in the broken mans eyes and a desperation oozed from his pores. He so desperately wanted to join in with frivolities and singing, but time and events had hardened his soul and hence, he would remain on duty.


Raith paid no more heed to the men and scoured ahead to try and see if he could spot his two lovelies. The town was buzzing, filled with carts of hay, market stalls of fruits, men in armour, women in dresses and two suckers ready for Raith to squeeze dry. He picked up his pace, the two targets being so far in the distance that if he so much as blinked, he feared he would lose them. He dodged and weaved between the hordes of people and ducked low, behind a horse as the two entered a tavern. Inside, he screamed with joy, knowing that taverns were the best place to practice his skills.


He slowly sauntered over to the large wooden door and creaked it open, so not to as draw too much attention to himself. The room seemed to be half full, mostly with Tevinters and Magisters from the road. He found a seat hidden in the corner, behind a supporting beam and watched the two with greedy eyes. They were discussing something with the barman, possibly bartering for a room, then walked passed him without batting an eyelid. As the woman walked by, he was sure that she was a Templar now, he could almost taste the superiority and self righteousness in the air. That meant that she would be carrying a hefty supply of lyrium and these days, it was like liquid gold. If he found a runaway templar desperate enough for the drug, he would have enough money to buy a boat and sail across the seas; to escape from the chaos of the broken sky and the insanity of demons.


He sat patiently for several minutes, wondering what his next course of action should be. He could go up to the room and attempt to kill them, but with the combined power of the apostates magic and the womans swordsmanship, he would be dead before he breached the door. Waiting until they separated was the smartest idea, but even then he was uncertain of whom to pursue. His gut instinct was to go for the mage, but there was no way of telling how in control of his magic he would be. Now that he started to think about it, why was alone apostate being accompanied by a templar anyway? Surely, it was her duty to return him to his circle, rather than help him escape to a town of madness and strange happenings. From what he had seen and overheard from his position in the woods, a woman named Fiona was encouraging mages to travel to her town and in return, she would offer refuge and comfort. He, however, had doubted the statement and always assumed it would be some sort of a trap, but people were stupid and would bite the bait regardless.


Raith decided that it was best to try and con the woman. She was of course beautiful from what he had seen and even though she came across as hard, she had needs, sexual needs and he was happy to play on that fact. He knew he was charming and sometimes, it was easier to trick a woman into bed and run away with her purse, than it was to try and pickpocket a farmer or a soldier. He would also have twice as much fun with that scenario. And so, he waited, even if he had to wait all night for one of the strangers to break away and follow the trail of the woman. He sat back comfortably and swept his fringe out of his face again.


He hadn't had too wait long, the Templar came back down the stairs only moments after stowing away the apostate and he watched her with greedy eyes as she took a seat. her own eyes seemed to scour the room, as if trying to fit together the pieces of a puzzle. He waited, like a predator in the shadows, biding his time until the perfect moment to pounce. One of the barmaids brought over a bowl of steaming soup and a hefty piece of bread to the woman and his target dove into her meal as if she hadn't eaten in a week. That was his queue. He leapt from his chair and dashed over to the womans table, careful not to knock into any of the magisters that were scattered across the room. He plonked himself down on the heavy wooden stool opposite her without asking and smiled as she shoved another piece of bread in her mouth, so she wouldn't be able to protest straight away.


"It seems as if you haven't eaten in a while m'lady. Been on the road for long?"

 

[Luxii]

Her first instinct was to reach for the small dagger tucked into her left boot, the second was to hurl a punch across the table, but Skylar prided herself on doing neither. She glowered at the man who had so rudely invaded her bubble of personal space as she swallowed down a hunk of bread. His playful smile and the light in his eyes had probably made many other women weak in the knees, but his calvalier "I-always-get-what-I-want" sort of attitude was a huge turn off for the Templar woman. But she would play nice, for now. No need to make a scene their first night in Redcliffe.


"For awhile, yes."


She did nothing to hide her irritation from the tone of her voice. Maybe if she didn't indulge him, he would give up and go bother some other helpless maid. After a few more spoonfuls of soup, and a few moments of a tense silence, with the man's eyes boring into her, Skylar let out a low, exasperated sigh.


"Is there something I can do for you, messere?"


This time her tone was almost mocking, she tried to catch it behind her teeth, but failed. Great... He seemed the sort that might see that as an opening for more conversation, and to be frank, Skylar was not interested in the slightest. She took in his manner of dress, the unkemptness of his countenance, the twigs in his hair. It was obvious that he had spent a fair bit of time in the forests surrounding Kirkwall and must have only recently made his way into the city. He was no mage, that much was certain - and he lacked the carriage of one trained in the warrior's arts. There was a small lute at his back, but Skylar had doubts that he was only a mere bard.


She leaned as far back in her chair as she could, placing as much distance between her and her new dark-haired "friend" as she could manage. Crossing her arms over her chest, she met his gaze with her own. He would be the first to look away, she told herself, and then she would have the upper hand in this interaction.


xXx


Truth be told, Aiden had not been sleeping well as of late. Ever since the sky had torn open his dreams had been dark and full of terrors. He and Skylar had yet to encounter one of these rifts in the Fade, portals that had torn through the protective veil between this world and other planes of existence. But in his dreams, in his walks through the Fade, there were many, many demons that sought these tears - eager to spring into the mortal realm and reek havoc.


Even as his mortal body lay in Redcliffe, his corporeal self walked with caution. He wished to avoid the murky pools of liquid that dotted the landscape - no telling what sort of creatures had made their homes there. This portion of the Fade was eeriely quiet, serene in a ghastly sort of way. Usually by now Aiden would have felt the prick of a spirit's consciousness upon his own, but the barrier he had drawn around his mind remained untouched.


Off to his left, the twisted spires of the Black City cut into the sky. It was a place that no mage had ever reached and even powerful demons kept their distance. Sparks of lightening licked the tips of the spires periodically, but it was happening far enough away that it had no effect on Aiden's immediate environment. It was odd, it had neven been stormy around the Black City before. Perhaps something to do with these tears in the sky?


In an instant, he awoke in the mortal realm, but the unease he had felt in the Fade still weighed heavy on his chest. He rolled onto his back and brushed the hair out of his eyes, extending his arms above his head lazily. The time was lost to him. It was always disorienting for Aiden to wake, as his time spent in the Fade seemed to have no correlation here in this world. However, Skylar had not yet returned which meant not much time could have passed, but Aiden wasn't worried. The Templar could more than take care of herself - he had seen that first hand many times.


The room was warm, and Aiden swung out of the bed to crack the window. It was still dark out, further solidfying that he hadn't been asleep for very long. The window opened with little resistance, allowing the cool night air to permeate their quarters. The mage rested his forehead on the panes of glass, his breath slowly fogged the spot on the window directly in front of his mouth. The town was quiet now - lights in some of the windows showed that some inhabitants were still awake. But no one was wandering the streets at this hour.


Aiden's stomach grumbled. Skylar had better return soon with food. He would've gone downstairs to procur some for himself but he knew Skylar wouldn't want their belongings left unattended. He sank back onto the bed with a groan. Maybe he would be able to get a little more sleep before the Templar returned. Before closing his eyes again, he cast a ward of protection over the door. Skylar would know how to disarm it but if anyone else tried to enter, they were in for a nasty surprise.

 

[Lumeneire]

His smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth as she asked her question. The woman he had chosen indeed proved to have equal amounts of both intelligence and sass. Raith had chosen her as a target to exploit and steal from, however, as she leaned back, he realised she was someone he could also have a little fanciful fun with as well. He crossed his arms on the top of the table and rest his chin on them. He looked up with his wide, dark eyes and beamed like a little love sick puppy.


"My sweet beautiful stranger. I have been having the most awful of days. I was sat alone in the corner, minding my own business, sulking away, when an angel danced by me. I couldn't help but stare I'm afraid, and the more I watched you, the more my breath was taken away from your unrivaled magnificence. I simply just had to know your name and who you were." He fluttered his eyelids innocently and flirtatiously smiled. She seemed to be an intelligent creature and would either believe his story and succumb to the temptation, or see right through it and continue the conversation through curiosity. He had thrown out the bait and his leg twitched with the anticipation of reeling her in. He held his gaze, unwavering in his attention.

* * *

​

Faelyn closed her eyes and reached her consciousness out into the fade. This time, she chose not to appear where she had the first time and set her mind on a different location, the Black city. The tall spires reached out into the murky sky like twisted bones, clawing their way out of the ground. Tendrils of lightening struck at the tips of the spires, like a moth drawn to a flame. Faelyn could feel the unease that had spread across the fade, the new excited and greedy sensations that lingered on the air. Since the sky had torn open in the real word, the demons and spirits from the beyond had begun to stir. Some of the more innocent souls coward in fear, afraid of being manipulated into being warped into demons and the demons celebrated and prepared for what chaos was yet to come.


From what she could tell, there were no creatures of the fade around her. They had either found delicious wanderers to manipulate, or they had caught wind of the question she so longed to have answered. Faelyn kicked at the green tinted dirt at her feet and readied her mind to return to the mortal realm. As her mind grasped on the thin tendrils of reality, she spotted a figure in the distance. The sense of unease that accompanied that of a fade beast was not present and the figure seemed to move with intellectual purpose. She squinted her sharp elven eyes and could make out the thick figure of a male. Curiosity lingered on her mind and before she knew it, her legs were forcing her forwards at a run.


As she neared the being, she reached out her consciousness to touch his and she could taste his knowledge of magic on the tip of her tongue. Faelyn licked her lips like a greedy child and tried to speak out to him, but before any words could escape, he vanished, presumably to return to the mortal realm himself. "Perhaps I was not the only one the spirits were avoiding." She mumbled to herself under her breath. Faelyn pushed her hand out in front of her and let the remnants of his presence trickle through her fingers. She could feel power, desire, fear and knowledge. He seemed more competent than he believed and much more further advanced in his practices than other mages she had come across.


She focused her attention on the rippling tear of the fade that he had exited through and tried to find his imprint. Faelyn knew that any soul who travelled to the fade left some remnant of themselves behind for a brief time and she realized she had struck gold as a jumble of words flowed through her mind.





Aiden.


Redcliffe.


Apostate.





"I'm coming for you Aiden."

 

[Luxii]

The man's overly eloquent reply was laced with so much charm and sweetness that it almost made Skylar's teeth ache. The left side of her mouth curled up into a smirk as he splayed himself over the table, blinking up at her with adoring eyes. A throaty chuckle erupted from the Templar woman's mouth, and she shook her blonde head at the stranger.


"How many women have you gotten into bed with this little act of yours, hm?"


There was a certain... charm to him, she guessed, but also something more... dangerous. This was exactly the type of person that she did not need to become involved with, but also the type of person who seemed unfamiliar with not getting what they wanted. His flattery would get him nowhere with the Templar for she suspected that he was more interested in the contents of her purse instead of what was concealed beneath her clothes. Unfortunately for him he would find that she was a poor choice of a mark for the moment at least. She had brought down nothing of value, leaving her possessions in Aiden's care.


"Save your pretty speech and honeyed words for some other foolish girl, messere. They are wasted on me," she continued. Turning her attentions back to the meal before her, she consumed the rest of the soup in a most unlady-like fashion - simply lifting the bowl to her lips and downing broth in but a few gulps. Now there was no reason for her to stay. The legs of her chair scraped against floor as she pushed back, rising and dusting off her leather breeches.


She crossed over to the bar, leaning against the edge and leaving the dark-haired rogue at the table by himself. As the barmaid from earlier passed by, Skylar placed a delicate hand on the girl's shoulder. "Might I have some more food to take upstairs?"


"Of course, milday," the girl replied. "It will just be a moment." And with a swish of her skirts the maid disappeared into the kitchen.


xXx


Aiden could not sleep, no matter how many times he twisted and turned. It was quite frustrating. If only he could keep his thoughts from running rampant through his mind, maybe it would allow him to succumb to slumber. But he might have wished to stop his heart from beating for all the good it did, for his thoughts pulsed through his brain like blood through his body.


For some reason, he was terrified that Skylar would leave him, now that their destination had been reached. She had made it no secret that she was uncomfortable in the presence of this many apostates - who knew how they would react if they discovered a Templar in their midst? In fact, what would they do now? What was the catch to Fiona's offer of hospitality? Aiden was not so naive to think that this sort of generosity usually came with a cost.


The loneliness had been stifling. Of course, he had Skylar - and for that he was grateful - but he missed Kirkwall. The hustle and bustle of the large city made him feel alive. He missed his instructors and friends, and even a few of the other Templars. It hurt to think that he would most likely never see them again.