Chapter 35: Potestas Impugnetur
The massive wooden doors to the Great Hall were already ajar when the party arrived at the top of the flight of stairs leading from the courtyard. Alistair and Sten had taken point, and the silver-haired giant gave Celestine a questioning look. She nodded; with their roles already established they would move into the room as quickly as possible and eliminate any resistance they encountered.
The Qunari pushed against the wood with his shoulder, axe already clasped in both hands,readied for a swing following the portal's opening. Alistair did the same on his side, using his shield to apply pressure to the barrier.
The door swung open ponderously, creaking with an ominous tone as the giant iron hinges supported its significant weight. The room that greeted them was empty, a relatively small entrance hall decorated in the traditional Ferelden manner with rough wooden carvings and rich, warm-coloured tapestries.
The flicker of firelight illuminated the floor, where long shadows were cast, the intangible indicators of persons standing near the light source. The stretched profiles danced across the stone tiles, eventually flickering up the tapestried wall on the opposite side.
Celestine hefted her staff, the smooth wood a familiar comfort of her old life after all she had been through. She could already feel the cold sweat running down her lower back as adrenalin started to course through her, causing the soft robes to stick to her skin.
Alistair and Sten were already advancing as silently as heavily armoured fighters could, with only the quiet creak of leather pressing on leather and the occasional clink of buckles to note their passing. Alistair was the first past the doorway into the main hall's threshold. He came to a standstill almost at once, eyes hardening at the sight of whatever he saw. Sten used his larger stride to get to the far side of the room quickly; his response surprised Celestine the most, as he spat out what the mage was sure was a swear word in Qunlat - it had been the most emphatic reaction anything had ever gotten out of the giant man. She followed into the chamber soon after the men, Morrigan and Leliana close behind.
The sight that greeted her brought the Warden to a standstill. On the raised dais, where the Arl, his wife and any visiting dignitaries might have been seated during a feast, stood a small boy, his slight frame silhouetted by a roaring fire in an alcove behind him. Standing next to the boy was Lady Isolde, her head hanging at an odd angle, dejected, as though she was on the verge of giving up an unending struggle.
The long wooden tables at which people would normally sit were smashed against the walls, benches and stools lying over tables haphazardly. Standing close to these were several armoured men, faces hidden behind closed visors.
The center of everyone's focus though, was the man in the middle of the room: Bann Teagan. The noble was cavorting around the cleared space, doing cartwheels and handstands, all the while wearing a grin that seemed fixed to his face without extending to his eyes, which darted around the room in a panicked manner.
The young boy who stood on the far side of the room jeered cruelly and clapped, seemingly enjoying the show. But he stopped as soon as he saw the glow forming around Celestine's and Morrigan's hands.
Lady Isolde seized the opportunity to make what sounded like another in a series of attempts to appeal to the boy-like thing. "Connor, please. I did as you asked…." Her voice wavered, "Please let my son go." Celestine felt bad about her earlier assumption of the woman.
Something about the second part of Isolde's plea caught the creature's attention. "DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT I AM NOT YOUR CHILD, MOTHER?" The voice reverberated strangely, as if it were not only the boy's vocal chords creating the sound. "I HAVE NO USE FOR YOU IF YOU CAN NOT CONTRIBUTE TO CONNOR'S HAPPINESS."
Isolde was about to respond, her face a teary mess, but she was cut off by a sharp gesture made by the boy. "SILENCE. I GROW TIRED OF YOU, MOTHER. BUT LOOK, WE HAVE GUESTS."
Bann Teagan performed a somersault that no nobleman would have dared to pull off, and landed, flourishing dramatically. "ARE THESE THE ONES YOU TOLD ME OF? THE ONES WHO RUINED ALL MY FUN?"
"Yes, Connor." Celestine's heart might have gone out to the woman at her dejected tone, but the noblewoman seemed to lack any spine, clearly having betrayed them to the creature as soon as any pressure was applied. Then again, she could not relate. The family she'd had had never been blood-ties, how would she know if that was any different? But knowledge did not breed sympathy, merely understanding, and understanding would not, in this case, change how she felt. She believed that the woman was responsible for all of this, after what Elisa had relayed to her of Jowan's reason for being there. Apart from his having been hired by Loghain to poison the Arl, he had also been brought in by Isolde to secretly train her son, who had begun exhibiting signs of possessing magic. Jowan had never managed to keep up with regular apprentices; to have him tutor someone...it was all slotting into place.
"Let the boy go, demon, and we shan't end you."
"YOU DARE THREATEN ME IN MY OWN HOME? FOOLISH MORTAL. THIS PITIFUL VILLAGE IS MERELY THE FIRST IN THE CONQUEST I WILL LEAD ACROSS THIS MEAGER WORLD."
Isolde looked as if she wanted to run to fall at Celestine's feet, beg the Warden to help save her son, but a glance she shot at Connor before reminded her of the cause of her fear. Instead she voiced her plea from the dais next to the possessed child, legs looking ready to give out under all the weight of the emotions weighing on the noble. "Please, Warden, you must help my son!"
Celestine caught a gesture from Sten, his eyes glimmering with some emotion, and she could see the muscles along his neck working. Clearly something about the situation was affecting the usually stoic Qunari. He jerked his chin forward, the small but aggressive motion clear in its meaning. She looked to Alistair, who was keeping his eyes on Connor, but occasionally slid his attention towards Sten. Celestine gave a curt nod to grey-skinned warrior.
"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO REMAIN SILENT!" the child screeched. Isolde whimpered and collapsed to the floor, sobbing. The boy then turned to the statuesque soldiers, commanding them, "KILL THEM, KILL THEM ALL!"
The armoured men lunged at them, far more swiftly than any of the undead had. Bann Teagan also drew a sword from somewhere, charging at the Wardens' party, eyes wide with terror. Alistair and Sten surged forward to meet the attack, Alistair catching a blade on his shield as he stabbed underneath it. The blade deflected off his opponent's armour though and with a grunt of annoyance, he shifted his shield just enough to kick at his opponent's knee. There was a sickening crack as the faceless man failed to dodge the underhanded move. The limb gave out underneath his armoured bulk, giving the Warden a chance to bury his blade in the slit between the helmet and cuirass.
The giant companion swung his axe in a controlled arc, lopping off one of the aggressor's heads before his attack could be deflected, helmet making a dull ringing noise as it hit the tiles with its macabre contents. Sten controlled the flow of the swing into a new attack, this time burying the weapon in the shoulder of his opponent. Bones crunched as the armour dented under the heavy weapon. The Qunari had to kick the body off his weapon to free it from the twisted steel.
He was about to prepare for another attack when an arrow whizzed by his face, causing him to sway back on reflex. The shaft was buried several inches into the breastplate of another foe, the force of the shot having slightly staggered them. Sten's mouth formed into a wordless snarl as he drove the spiked butt of his axe into the same place where the arrow had landed. The blow thrust the arrow in deeper, breaking off the shaft that had not entered the chest, splintering what got caught under the spike. The hole widened slightly, being pried apart by the brutish attack; it was not enough to let the spike through, but he lifted his armoured opponent into the air, throwing the guard a good yard or two from the site of their encounter.
"Morrigan!" Celestine called as she recovered from freezing one of the men who had made it past the advance guard of their party. "Free the Bann from the glamour!"
The former circle mage heard her fellow mutter something under her breath as dark tendrils of energy reduced an enemy to an empty suit that clattered to the ground. Celestine almost failed to raise her staff in time as the Bann's sword came swinging down. "Oh no, not again," she forced out between clenched teeth, using all her strength to hold off the more powerful man as he used his weight advantage to press down on her, giving her an unnerving opportunity to stare into his pleading eyes up close. Suddenly Teagan twisted his blade so that she was no longer pressing against it perpendicularly. The Amell's eyes widened as she slipped forward; she could just see the Bann stick out a foot to trip her and there was nothing she could do about it with her uncontrolled momentum.
~o~
She sat bolt-upright, eyes flying open. She was in a coolly-lit antechamber, ice covering the flagstones and creeping up the walls. Icicles shimmered along arches as droplets of water continuously dripped down, steadily growing the teeth-like formations.
Sel min mah er delon fa ihr, meleth ta min finnin sri.
The haunting words echoed from beyond the impressive door before her. Strangely enough, she could not sense any stiffness in her body, despite waking from what had to have been an uncomfortable sleeping position. She breathed out purposefully hard, breath misting in the air, yet she did not feel cold. Shaking her head at this revelation, she walked towards the door; it was breaking through the frozen barrier to open even before she touched it. The sound of shattering ice screeching and tinkling was somehow aggravating and soothing at the same time.
Elam min melak finé srihe, elam min keda ta yillin vas.
The voice danced toward her from the icy hall once more. The words were strangely familiar, yet she could not say why. They were not in any Theodosian language she had yet encountered.
Seth min cente ta min keldi, ellu min ventras fa ves.
She stumbled forward through the now-open doorway, the large hall in front of her enrapturing her with its beauty. Fine marble columns arced to the roof, disappearing into forests of icicles. The marble itself was carved into flowing shapes that seemed too ethereal to hold up the vaulted ceiling and the ice. Light danced in all corners of the chamber.
Bana man shai invelasa, te prenneth shai vessa.
The voice seemed to be just ahead, but infinitely far away as well, the way it teased from every inch of the room, icicles tinkling with the vibrations in an almost teasing titter.
"Cena min abeth umfer hai, yillan fera vasse dan."
The last stanza sounded almost Qunlat, but there was a softness to the words that was not present in the language of Par Vollen. She walked between the frozen pillars, hands not quite daring to touch them, lest they fly away from her as the door had done, or shatter and bring the roof down on her. Somehow she doubted that would happen, but she refrained nonetheless.
Sel min kelda er grotma es, ellu min yillan ta keldi man ihr
She rounded what could have been the tenth or the hundredth pillar when she saw a small figure sitting on the iced-over floor. It had deep red hair, contrasting strongly with the stark white surroundings. Lightly freckled pale arms were the only visible skin she could see as she approached, the rest of the...what looked to be a child, covered in a wispy white shift that that blended so well with the ice that it looked to be a part of it.
Ot shai eza cet nai tet kel, maneth fi min leslath kai.
The child sang to itself as it played on the floor, or at least it looked like playing, until she saw how it pressed its hands into the ice, not finding any resistance in the solidified water, then had golden lines flow from its fingertips, which carved shapes into the transparent surface covering the tiles.
Hela kant ea me finina fel, heka ses shai len'er yinon.
She looked down at her feet, eyes widening in surprise. Getting to her knees, she inspected the floor; even here there were carvings, evidence that the child-thing had not always been where it was. Upon closer inspection she could see that all the ice she had crossed was marked in a similar manner. She looked up to where the child had been seated, suddenly aware that the sing-song chant had stopped, and found herself staring into a pair of vivid yet sombre green eyes. Small hands reached to hold her by the temples, golden lines weaving from where they touched her head to wrap around her crown. Tears sprung up from the girl's eyes, for that was what the child appeared to be with its shoulder-length loose hair.
Come back to me Samantha, I miss you.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone