Chapter 18: Epicinium Proditio
Whatever the roads were that Morrigan led them on, they seemed to take them towards their destination by a much shorter route than the one from Ostagar would have. But that could also have been due to their benumbed state of mind. Each Warden had felt the presence of the darkspawn the night of the battle, the scratching at the back of their minds finally turning into a glorious crescendo of unearthly music as the horde drew closer and closer. Each Warden knew that this was a Blight, each one of them suddenly realised how alone they now were that all the others had died before the darkspawn onslaught.
They did not speak as they trekked through the Wilds, the loudest noises made by the party being the occasional scuffle of a foot or noise made by one of the two Mabari as they dove into the thick undergrowth in pursuit of some small creature.
Alfonse had arrived shortly before they set out with another Mabari in tow; the new addition had immediately taken a liking to Celestine and followed closely behind the mage wherever she went. Unsure of how to handle the massive hound's affections, she had settled for simply letting it do as it pleased for now – although it seemed that Alfonse was already taking up the reigns of mentorship if the barks and snuffs that the canines exchanged were anything to go by.
Alistair was insistent that they call the new addition 'Barkspawn'. Morrigan had rolled her eyes at the suggestion, even as Celestine tried to hide a smile. Eventually she had decided that since the Mabari was female Triss would do; Alistair stubbornly continued to refer to the hound with the name he had come up with. It was a small something for them to laugh about to try and break through the overwhelming shroud of death that seemed to hang over the group, and even Morrigan found it difficult to fault the forced humour. Nobody noticed how Elisa's fingers twitched every time Alistair used the nickname, or how Erik grit his teeth.
After half a day of wandering through the wilderness, the old Tevinter Imperial Highway appeared before them. Her task done, Morrigan assumed a spot at the back of the group as Elisa and Celestine took the lead, the Mabari trotting next to them panting contentedly.
"Road's deserted," the Amell stated, looking along the highway ahead of them and glancing behind them. "You'd think there would be more people fleeing Ostagar."
"I doubt there were many – if any - survivors that were not part of the army that Loghain commanded," Elisa commented. "If you recall, Captain and your cousin were fighting darkspawn behind our lines. If they were overwhelmed like we were…." The Cousland took a deep breath, her voice monotone, lacking any emotion. "A flanking tactic like that would have prevented anyone still in the camp from escaping as well, unless they delved into the Wilds themselves – which would be treacherous to say the least, considering the 'spawn already controlled them by the time we arrived."
"Oh." Celestine's response was so soft that Elisa was not sure whether or not the mage had said anything at all.
The group eventually reached a segment of road where abandoned wagons and baggage were strewn across the path or lay halfway pushed off, listing to the side. The two women continued along the path towards the abandoned wares, a sense of unease growing in Celestine's gut. She barely suppressed a start when Elisa suddenly reached out to stop her, pressing a finger against her lips. The noble motioned for the two Mabari to follow her, then indicated that the remaining party continue onward. Celestine looked to Erik as the woman disappeared among the shadows thrown by the trees surrounding the road. He merely jerked his head in a manner that indicated she should go on, but he loosed his sword in its sheath. Alistair, picking up on this, did the same.
The mage nodded; using her staff as a walking stick she continued down the road, striding purposefully, not betraying a hint of the fear that was creeping up her spine. They eventually drew within sight of the village, and Celestine thought that whatever precautions Elisa had taken had most likely been unnecessary when a man appeared in front of her from behind one of the wagons. She stepped back sharply, almost onto Erik's foot.
"Well well, whadda we 'ave 'ere," the man said as another appeared atop a wagon behind him, and three more revealed themselves from the side of the road, or from among the debris littering the highway itself. "More refs comen' to flee them darkspawn."
"Uh, boss, these dun look like the others," one of the men standing behind the lead one observed.
"You should listen to your friend," Erik said evenly over Celestine's shoulder.
The one who was most likely the leader of the men blocking the road shook his head, "Alls who uses the king's road must pay the toll, thas why s'called a toll."
"You should let us pass, friend; we're Grey Wardens," Alistair suggested over Celestine's other shoulder.
At this, the leader of what were undoubtedly bandits simply laughed, "'ear that lads? Thissun says 'es a Grey Warden. Likes the one that killed the king, we'll get the pay of our life if'n we hand these to the Regent."
"Fools, do as these men say before it costs you more than you are willing to pay," Morrigan called from the back of the group.
"Lissen 'ere lady, yous'll be the only ones payin'. Lookit this one 'ere in the front, all a shakin ardy."
Celestine was indeed shivering, but contrary to what the bandits believed it was not fear. Deep in her gut a fire sprang to life and flared along her legs and arms, burning in her muscles. The ache to do something quickly and violently pushed at the mage's restraint. She breathed in deeply and opened her eyes which she had closed as the sensation began, idly looking at the floor at the bandit leader's feet. She blinked lazily as she lifted her eyes to the man in front of her, her mouth spreading into a vicious grin.
She looked the bandit directly in the eye. "You should have let us pass…" she said, voice low.
"Maker's balls, the bitch's possessed!" the man behind the leader shouted, voice suddenly high-pitched as instinctive fear gripped him. The leader drew his sword, "Quick, kill 'em! We'll still get the bounty ev'n if they's dead."
Celestine was still standing upright holding her staff in her right hand; she stretched out the left, open palm facing outward. She suppressed the urge to laugh as the energy that had been building up within her was unleashed, mana becoming fire inches away from her hand. The flames burst forward in a tight cone, immolating anything in its path. The bandits yelled in panic, all their bravado spent. The furthest away one's shout of alarm was silenced in a gurgle as two Mabari closed in, one leaping for the throat, the other taking out a leg. The eyes of the bandit atop the wagon went wide in surprise as a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him down sharply. No sound came from behind the wagon where he fell.
A heavy hand fell on Celestine's shoulder; she spun around to meet the new threat, only to meet two pairs of concerned eyes.
"That's enough Tina," Erik said. "They're gone."
It was a rather mild way to describe how the bandits had departed from this world, considering that two were now mostly ash; one was horribly mauled and another seemed to have disappeared entirely – a smirking Elisa emerging from the woods, wiping down one of her daggers.
Celestine merely nodded, shuddering suddenly and hugging herself. Elisa shot her a confused look since she had not witnessed the young mage's reaction to the bandits; Morrigan on the other hand was giving her an appraising look. Alistair and Erik pulled what was left of the corpses off the road for scavengers to deal with – mindful that it would most likely be darkspawn.
The small group set out again, noises from the village ahead growing louder as they approached: the wail of young children, the arguing of frantic refugees and noises of various animals that would accompany the humans in their flight of the Blight.
~o~
Samantha Trevelyan stood to the side of the door to the room in which the First Enchanter did his research; her mind automatically catalogued everything she experienced. Ever since she had been made Tranquil, her mind absorbed information unlike ever before, as if all the trappings of emotions prevented the clear receiving and processing of the knowledge presented to her on a daily basis.
The new state of mind allowed her to view all past experiences with clarity; she could analyse her life down to the smallest detail and not have it coloured by emotion. There were three memories she returned to frequently: the night she discovered her magic, the night she was attacked by the abomination, and the night she was branded. These had to be the most pivotal moments in her yet-brief existence and on every occasion emotion had clouded her decisions – or reactions.
She understood the reasoning behind why such emotions would cause her to act like she did, but could no longer relate. First anger, anger at her mother, then fear…fear. A constant companion of hers since that first night, finally culminating in a breaking point the night the abomination attacked, something had happened then that rendered her catatonic. But there had been something else, something that prevented her from thinking as clearly as she did now, something that had been burned out during the rite. Her forays into those memories were met with resistance - something prevented her from observing more than what her senses experienced, something was preventing her from viewing her own mind.
Had she had any emotions to feel with, this might have worried her, but as it was she noted it as a curiosity and moved on to the next notable memories, linking them to key events to allow for easier recall. She started working through her time as a Tranquil, a period far simpler to catalogue with the structured regimen to everything she did – there was absolutely no deviation, no irregularity.
"Trevelyan, come here will you?" The First Enchanter's voice interrupted her thoughts.
She looked to where the man had drawn runic circles and glyphs on the floor, surrounded by various instruments whose function seemed to be for measuring or channelling, judging by their positions. He was indicating that she stand on the chalk-marked floor at the centre of all the symbols. Unperturbed by the implications of the lines, she moved as directed.
"Now, I am aware that the most common questions asked of Tranquil are those of how you feel about something, or what your preference is," the old man stated as he started adjusting the instruments. "I have taken care to isolate you from such drivel; I have theorised that perhaps a Tranquil may latch onto whatever aspect is first presented to them, or perhaps made to be the easier one to choose; considering that you have no judgement to help you decide, your environment does that for you…path of least resistance for want of a better term."
He moved over to his desk and scribbled something down on a scrap of parchment before returning to the instruments. "But now, what if a Tranquil was to assume a trait that will eventually contradict their state of Tranquillity?" The leader of the Circle of Ostwick smiled as he said this and looked Samantha directly in the eye. "Tell me Trevelyan, what do the words: 'Modest in temper, bold in deed' mean to you?"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone