The two women followed the stairs back down to the courtyard area, and, much to Nostariel's relief, there was Feynriel, looking relatively unharmed. At their approach, he turned to look at them both, clearly enough himself to recognize their faces. "I'm not sure if this is real," he confessed, "but if so, it is the second time I owe you both my life." Though he was mostly speaking to Nostariel, it was clear that he recognized Amalia as the one who'd thrown herself in front of a slaver's spell for the both of them.
Nostariel smiled faintly. She was tired, and sick of this place, but seeing him here, standing unharmed... that made this ordeal worthwhile. "Feynriel. I'm so glad you're all right." Whether the same could be said for Ashton and Ithilian, or even Amalia, remained to be seen, but he was alive and well, and that... she couldn't measure her relief.
He nodded, echoing the expression, then glanced around him, as one studying something. "The Fade feels different now. I feel the stiches, seams holding it together. I feel I could wake at any moment now." He sounded vaguely awed by that fact, and she could not help but be so herself. These things were not things she could see, for all her years learning to manipulate magic. There must really be something special about him, as Marethari had suggested. It filled her at once with equal measures of pride and sadness. In such a state, he would be always alone, as he'd never wanted to be, singled out not only for his heritage, but for his power. He would always be in danger, and she thought that perhaps he knew this.
"What will you do now, once you wake?"
He contemplated this for a few moments, his expression turning downcast as he came to the same realization she had. "The Dalish do not have what I need," he replied. "Perhaps Tevinter. If these powers could be trained, it would be there." This gave Nostariel pause.
"Tevinter?" she echoed. "Tevinter is a dangerous place for people like us, Feynriel. You have no guarantee that any of the mages there would be willing to train you, and even if they were... they may very well use you for their own ends." As much affection as she felt for the boy, she did not believe him terribly strong of will. This journey he wished to undertake would either bring that out in him... or it would destroy him.
He seemed certain, however. "I know," he said, more firmly, "but only if I let them. And I won't. I've learned that much already." He paused, looking down for a moment, his brows drawn together with worry. "My mother would not look kindly on such a journey. Can you give her my farewell?" He looked earnestly between them, settling his eyes on the Warden, and she nodded, stepping forward and pulling him (he was already taller than she was; when had that happened?) into a brief embrace.
"I will," she promised quietly. "May you find always what you need, Feynriel." Stepping back, she patted his cheek just once, then folded her hands behind her back.
He sounded relieved when he spoke again, as though something had been lifted from him. "Perhaps... there is a way out of this, after all." turning away from them, he stared hard at the air on front of him, an intent look of concentration on his face. "I can do this." With a wave of his hand, the Veil shimmered, and he looked back just once, over his shoulder. "Thank you, Nostariel. For everything. Goodbye." With that, he turned and disappeared, walking out of the Fade as though it held no reality for him at all.
Amalia would have advised against going to Tevinter, had she been of a mind to say anything at all. But she was not. This was not her business. None of it was, and none of it ever had been. Why was she even here? Nothing here was any of her concern, of the Qunās concern. Her reasons for acting on this boyās behalf the first time had been simple: there had been no discernible reason not to. But why bother? Why not be exactly as Sophia had assumed of her, concerned ever and only with her own? None of these people were her own. Aurora was not her own, either. She was floundering, and this place, this rotting pit of a city, was making her forget.
She didnāt need to see in other ways. The Qun was the only thing in her life that had ever been constant, and it had never let her down. It would be better to stop pretending that anything not of it would ever share in that quality. What kind of stupid creature was she, that she was able to continually believe that the next time would be different from the last? She let the Warden and the boy do all the talking, and remained, quiet as a shadow, in the background, tipping her head just faintly when acknowledged. Beyond that, it was simply a matter of waiting for this all to end.
Sheād had enough.
When the two remaining members of the party awoke, it was to find Arianni hovering anxiously. Seeking to placate her worry as much as possible, Nostariel stood at once. "Feynriel has mastered his powers," she told the woman with a soft smile. This caused Arianni's eyes to wide, a hand lifting to hover over her heart.
"Then he lives? You saved him? I cannot thank you enough!" She turned to her former Keeper. "Keeper Marethari, may I return with you to the Sunderlands? I would like to ask my son's forgiveness." The Keeper seemed torn between being pleased and ever so slightly amused. "Of course. It was you who chose to stay away."
Unfortunately, it was here that Nostariel had to interrupt. "I'm sorry, Arianni. Feynriel decided that he must go elsewhere to train. None in Kirkwall can help someone like him. He asked me to say his farewells." She would have preferred it if he'd at least stayed to give them on his own, but she understood his need to leave as he had. What he'd detemined to do took a great deal of resolution, and if the pain of parting would have provided him temptation to stay, it might have been too much to overcome, and he needed that training.
Arianni took this about as well as she would have expected, which was to say not terribly well. "My son! No! I must find him before he leaves!" Marethari, though, seemed to be in agreement with Nostariel, giving the Warden a nod before addressing the distressed mother. "It is wise for him to seek guidance. Kirkwall cannot provide what he needs." To Nostariel and Amalia, she continued. "I truly did not think it was possible to do what you did. You are rare souls, indeed."
Ithilian had stayed to see the end of the venture, sitting with arms crossed in a corner of the room, but he couldn't help but feel Marethari's words were not for him. Only when he woke did he realize the stupidity of his decision. And still... ill-advised or no, he couldn't seem to make himself fault his motives. The actual decision had been unwise, of course, and it had been the demon's influence that had prevented him from seeing that, but... he would still do anything for his people. That had not changed, nor would it ever.
He suspected neither Nostariel nor Amalia would have any desire to speak with him, but he would stay to at least give them the opportunity. The Warden no doubt wished to chase after her shemlen friend, and Amalia... well, he'd thought they had been on the path to mending the damage he'd done years ago, but it seemed he'd undone that tonight.
Amalia stayed exactly as long as was required to ascertain that the task was indeed complete. She met the Keeperās eyes, once, and nodded in acknowledgement of the thanks, but she looked at nobody else. As soon as the matter was concluded, she simply walked out the door, jaw tight and face still unnaturally blank. She was going to spend some time in the compound. While she did not generally prefer to be there, she was certainly allowed, and it would grant her the opportunity to beā¦ away. From the evidence of her own folly more than anything else. She paused, just once, to glance at the large, painted tree that stood in the Alienageās center, but then shook her head and continued onward, up the stairs and out of sight.
Nostariel watched Amalia depart, worry evident in her expression, then turned to Ithilian. Marethari and Arianni were still talking, so it was doubtful they were also listening. āAre you all right?ā she asked him, resisting the urge to lay a hand on his shoulder. Contact probably wouldnāt be appreciated right now. She wasnāt really sure what she expected the answer to the question to be, but honestly, she doubted anyone came out of that unscathed. Theyād fought each other in the Fade, regardless of the whys or wherefores, and the Warden doubted very much that either one of them was truly unaffected by that. She wasnāt, and his aggression hadnāt even been directed at her.
She would find Ashton, eventually, and see what she could do for him, but Ithilian was her friend, too, and what heād undergone was in its own way no less trying, she suspected. Falling victim to a demon was not an experience sheād had so directly, but nothing that usually resulted in abominations could leave a person free of injury.
Ithilian leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees. "I don't know why the demon seemed so compelling. It seems so stupid to think it would remain true to its offer now, but in that moment..." He shook his head. "I am no mage, the Fade was no place for me. It is good that Amalia was there. She did what she had to." The things he left unsaid told the rest of the story, really. He regretted his choice only because the demon would not have granted him what he sought, not because of the motive. And Amalia... if their friendship had only ever been an alliance of convenience, born because they both sought to protect the same plot of land... he didn't know what to think.
āDemons are supposed to be convincing,ā Nostariel assured him sadly. āThey can see into our minds, every insecurity and hangup we have. The Desire Demonā¦ it had its pick with me, certainly. It chose wrongly, but on another day, it might not have.ā It was an unfortunate truth. Caress had given her a chance to rectify her mistakes, something she wanted more than anything else, yes, but also something she was now taking steps toward on her own. If it had chosen to show her what she wanted, but felt she would never obtainā¦ she knew not how that would have ended.
āIt might not be my place to say, butā¦ I donāt think she wanted to. And I donāt think she would have, if my answer had been different.ā Amalia was incredibly hard to read, but Nostariel knew her better than she had before, and the Qunari was not as cold as she behaved most of the time. One only had to watch her with children long enough to understand that. Still, she sighed and shrugged. Though she didnāt want to see her two companions fall out over this, that wasnāt really anything she got a say in, so she left it be.
Nostariel smiled faintly. She was tired, and sick of this place, but seeing him here, standing unharmed... that made this ordeal worthwhile. "Feynriel. I'm so glad you're all right." Whether the same could be said for Ashton and Ithilian, or even Amalia, remained to be seen, but he was alive and well, and that... she couldn't measure her relief.
He nodded, echoing the expression, then glanced around him, as one studying something. "The Fade feels different now. I feel the stiches, seams holding it together. I feel I could wake at any moment now." He sounded vaguely awed by that fact, and she could not help but be so herself. These things were not things she could see, for all her years learning to manipulate magic. There must really be something special about him, as Marethari had suggested. It filled her at once with equal measures of pride and sadness. In such a state, he would be always alone, as he'd never wanted to be, singled out not only for his heritage, but for his power. He would always be in danger, and she thought that perhaps he knew this.
"What will you do now, once you wake?"
He contemplated this for a few moments, his expression turning downcast as he came to the same realization she had. "The Dalish do not have what I need," he replied. "Perhaps Tevinter. If these powers could be trained, it would be there." This gave Nostariel pause.
"Tevinter?" she echoed. "Tevinter is a dangerous place for people like us, Feynriel. You have no guarantee that any of the mages there would be willing to train you, and even if they were... they may very well use you for their own ends." As much affection as she felt for the boy, she did not believe him terribly strong of will. This journey he wished to undertake would either bring that out in him... or it would destroy him.
He seemed certain, however. "I know," he said, more firmly, "but only if I let them. And I won't. I've learned that much already." He paused, looking down for a moment, his brows drawn together with worry. "My mother would not look kindly on such a journey. Can you give her my farewell?" He looked earnestly between them, settling his eyes on the Warden, and she nodded, stepping forward and pulling him (he was already taller than she was; when had that happened?) into a brief embrace.
"I will," she promised quietly. "May you find always what you need, Feynriel." Stepping back, she patted his cheek just once, then folded her hands behind her back.
He sounded relieved when he spoke again, as though something had been lifted from him. "Perhaps... there is a way out of this, after all." turning away from them, he stared hard at the air on front of him, an intent look of concentration on his face. "I can do this." With a wave of his hand, the Veil shimmered, and he looked back just once, over his shoulder. "Thank you, Nostariel. For everything. Goodbye." With that, he turned and disappeared, walking out of the Fade as though it held no reality for him at all.
Amalia would have advised against going to Tevinter, had she been of a mind to say anything at all. But she was not. This was not her business. None of it was, and none of it ever had been. Why was she even here? Nothing here was any of her concern, of the Qunās concern. Her reasons for acting on this boyās behalf the first time had been simple: there had been no discernible reason not to. But why bother? Why not be exactly as Sophia had assumed of her, concerned ever and only with her own? None of these people were her own. Aurora was not her own, either. She was floundering, and this place, this rotting pit of a city, was making her forget.
She didnāt need to see in other ways. The Qun was the only thing in her life that had ever been constant, and it had never let her down. It would be better to stop pretending that anything not of it would ever share in that quality. What kind of stupid creature was she, that she was able to continually believe that the next time would be different from the last? She let the Warden and the boy do all the talking, and remained, quiet as a shadow, in the background, tipping her head just faintly when acknowledged. Beyond that, it was simply a matter of waiting for this all to end.
Sheād had enough.
When the two remaining members of the party awoke, it was to find Arianni hovering anxiously. Seeking to placate her worry as much as possible, Nostariel stood at once. "Feynriel has mastered his powers," she told the woman with a soft smile. This caused Arianni's eyes to wide, a hand lifting to hover over her heart.
"Then he lives? You saved him? I cannot thank you enough!" She turned to her former Keeper. "Keeper Marethari, may I return with you to the Sunderlands? I would like to ask my son's forgiveness." The Keeper seemed torn between being pleased and ever so slightly amused. "Of course. It was you who chose to stay away."
Unfortunately, it was here that Nostariel had to interrupt. "I'm sorry, Arianni. Feynriel decided that he must go elsewhere to train. None in Kirkwall can help someone like him. He asked me to say his farewells." She would have preferred it if he'd at least stayed to give them on his own, but she understood his need to leave as he had. What he'd detemined to do took a great deal of resolution, and if the pain of parting would have provided him temptation to stay, it might have been too much to overcome, and he needed that training.
Arianni took this about as well as she would have expected, which was to say not terribly well. "My son! No! I must find him before he leaves!" Marethari, though, seemed to be in agreement with Nostariel, giving the Warden a nod before addressing the distressed mother. "It is wise for him to seek guidance. Kirkwall cannot provide what he needs." To Nostariel and Amalia, she continued. "I truly did not think it was possible to do what you did. You are rare souls, indeed."
Ithilian had stayed to see the end of the venture, sitting with arms crossed in a corner of the room, but he couldn't help but feel Marethari's words were not for him. Only when he woke did he realize the stupidity of his decision. And still... ill-advised or no, he couldn't seem to make himself fault his motives. The actual decision had been unwise, of course, and it had been the demon's influence that had prevented him from seeing that, but... he would still do anything for his people. That had not changed, nor would it ever.
He suspected neither Nostariel nor Amalia would have any desire to speak with him, but he would stay to at least give them the opportunity. The Warden no doubt wished to chase after her shemlen friend, and Amalia... well, he'd thought they had been on the path to mending the damage he'd done years ago, but it seemed he'd undone that tonight.
Amalia stayed exactly as long as was required to ascertain that the task was indeed complete. She met the Keeperās eyes, once, and nodded in acknowledgement of the thanks, but she looked at nobody else. As soon as the matter was concluded, she simply walked out the door, jaw tight and face still unnaturally blank. She was going to spend some time in the compound. While she did not generally prefer to be there, she was certainly allowed, and it would grant her the opportunity to beā¦ away. From the evidence of her own folly more than anything else. She paused, just once, to glance at the large, painted tree that stood in the Alienageās center, but then shook her head and continued onward, up the stairs and out of sight.
Nostariel watched Amalia depart, worry evident in her expression, then turned to Ithilian. Marethari and Arianni were still talking, so it was doubtful they were also listening. āAre you all right?ā she asked him, resisting the urge to lay a hand on his shoulder. Contact probably wouldnāt be appreciated right now. She wasnāt really sure what she expected the answer to the question to be, but honestly, she doubted anyone came out of that unscathed. Theyād fought each other in the Fade, regardless of the whys or wherefores, and the Warden doubted very much that either one of them was truly unaffected by that. She wasnāt, and his aggression hadnāt even been directed at her.
She would find Ashton, eventually, and see what she could do for him, but Ithilian was her friend, too, and what heād undergone was in its own way no less trying, she suspected. Falling victim to a demon was not an experience sheād had so directly, but nothing that usually resulted in abominations could leave a person free of injury.
Ithilian leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees. "I don't know why the demon seemed so compelling. It seems so stupid to think it would remain true to its offer now, but in that moment..." He shook his head. "I am no mage, the Fade was no place for me. It is good that Amalia was there. She did what she had to." The things he left unsaid told the rest of the story, really. He regretted his choice only because the demon would not have granted him what he sought, not because of the motive. And Amalia... if their friendship had only ever been an alliance of convenience, born because they both sought to protect the same plot of land... he didn't know what to think.
āDemons are supposed to be convincing,ā Nostariel assured him sadly. āThey can see into our minds, every insecurity and hangup we have. The Desire Demonā¦ it had its pick with me, certainly. It chose wrongly, but on another day, it might not have.ā It was an unfortunate truth. Caress had given her a chance to rectify her mistakes, something she wanted more than anything else, yes, but also something she was now taking steps toward on her own. If it had chosen to show her what she wanted, but felt she would never obtainā¦ she knew not how that would have ended.
āIt might not be my place to say, butā¦ I donāt think she wanted to. And I donāt think she would have, if my answer had been different.ā Amalia was incredibly hard to read, but Nostariel knew her better than she had before, and the Qunari was not as cold as she behaved most of the time. One only had to watch her with children long enough to understand that. Still, she sighed and shrugged. Though she didnāt want to see her two companions fall out over this, that wasnāt really anything she got a say in, so she left it be.
The Chanter's Board has been updated. Night Terrors has been completed.