A week and a half since the Qunari set sail, and it was the furthest Aurora had ventured from her home. The looting in the streets had slowly began to taper off, though it was replaced by Templar presence. With the Guard having lost many of its personnel, it fell to the militaristic Order to attempt to keep peace. It was hardly ideal for her, but the city needed some sort of command and order and the Templars had a way of dissuading prospective criminals. Still, it made the walk she was taking feel all that much longer. She was dressed as plainly as she dared, with her scarf tied around her head instead of her neck. There was little chance of a random Templar picking her out from the crowd, but it still didn't help the unease she was feeling. The fact that Milly was left home alone only worsened her tense mind.
If she knew what else to do, she would've stayed at home. But again, she found herself lost in the dark unable to find the answers on her own. Nostariel was the best choice, but she was exhausted and spent much of her time beside Sophia's bed. She had heard what the woman had done, there weren't many in Lowtown who didn't. She acted with equal measures of bravery and rashness, though Aurora felt it was not her place to judge. She made her choice, and now she was dealing with its consequences. She could do nothing but wish the woman a speedy recovery.
Amalia was her second choice, but chances were she wasn't in any better of a place than she was. The Qunari had left but she had stayed. No doubt she was no searching for her own answers. Instead, she travelled into Hightown, toward the one person that she knew the recent events had not changed. The bell leading into the shop labelled Enchantment rang as she entered.
The proprietor of the shop was currently by himself, taking inventory. His locking mechanisms were much more clever than the average such thing, but they werenât all that much use against looters determined to break down his door, which in the end was still simply wood. The break in had happened on the very first day, else Rilien himself likely would have been around to put a stop to it. Alas, the looters had made off with most of the shiny objects in the store, which was to say the silverite, lyrium, a few of Sandalâs runes, and the few weapons that had been displayed on wall mounts. Theyâd also smashed much of his glassware. Another small group had taken the previously-missing door as an invitation to pick over the remnants. They were four more dead looters for the undertakers, removed the night after. The door had been replaced three days ago.
With it in place and order mostly returned to the city, Rilienâs suppliers would soon be back in business, so he was taking an accounting of everything he would need to order to bring himself back up to stock, and then extra, because Knight-Captain Cullen had just requisitioned a large number of potions from him. It would seem that there were many injured or dying Templars and mages, more than the Circleâs own resources could properly handle. And Rilien was very good at what he did.
Marking down something else on the slightly-curled parchment beneath his quill, Rilien did not initially look up when the bell jingled, indicating the entrance of someone new. He could feel the magic on the person, and it was by this point familiar enough that he recognized her without needing to look up. âAurora. What do you require?â
The first thing she noticed was the lack of glass in many of the cases. It seemed that even Hightown felt its share of the looting. Probably by those either braver or more desperate to attempt such an act. Even her own door had been knocked on in the days since, but Amalia's reinforcements saw to it that it remained closed. She had to break the arm and leg of a pair of such looters to even get back inside. She nodded in greeting and made her way to the counter, taking a seat in of the stools lining it. She let a moment pass between them, gathering her words before she finally spoke. "Clean bandages would be a start," She said, rolling her sleeve up.
Her entire forearm was bandaged, though the worst of the wound had since healed. Speaks of deep red still stained the bandages in a straight line across the middle of the arm. The bleeding had long since been staunched, and Amalia had seen to it that the wound wouldn't become infected. "This is all that we had," She said, staring at the arm. Milly had bandaged it for her, though cut off from her magic and emotions, Aurora was left to heal the natural way. The fight she had received the wound was still plain in her face. A cut over her eyebrow had also been bandaged up, and there was a twist to the tip of her nose, mirroring the Tranquil's own. He had been right about treating it quickly, it seemed.
Perhaps fortunately for Aurora, the looters had not found it necessary to steal Rilienâs medical supplies, and for a moment he ducked under the counter, returning to his previous position with a mid-sized wooden box in hand. From this, he withdrew a roll of bandages, a red potion, and a sterile knife. âMay I see the wound?â After Aurora complied, laying her bandaged arm across the counter, Rilien cut away the old bandaged with a practiced flick of the small blade, exposing the wound to the open air. It did not appear to be in any danger of infectionâwhomever had looked after this had done so with enough care that it was healing normally. Still, he used the tip of the knife to push the potion bottle closer to her, an indication that she was to drink it.
There were, however, fragments of stone in the wound, something that he took to be the result of a rock armor spell, in all likelihood. âThis will not be pleasant.â He did not find any more warning than that to be particularly necessary, and set about removing the fragments either by leverage from the surgical knife, or if he could reach them, a pair of thin metal tweezers. A few of them were embedded such that he had to make small fresh cuts in the skin, but with these, he was unerringly precise and entirely unmoved or worried by the fact that he was causing any sort of pain, allowing in fact for a minimum of it to be inflicted.
Moving away the soiled bandages, he started to unroll the fresh ones, reaching into the box with his other hand and withdrawing a small jar that, when the lid was removed, proved to contain some sort of greenish paste that smelled strongly of mint. A small, flat wooden instrument was dipped into it, and he smeared the paste along the line of the cut. It was much more pleasant a sensation than most, being rather cool, as such wounds tended to accumulate heat as the body made to repair what of itself was broken. The paste would protect and speed the process, and the potion would as well, but there wasnât really a substitute for simply recovering in time, unless of course one was possessed of the right kind of magic.
Rilien was not.
Lifting her arm, he expertly wound the bandages around the wound, firmly enough to hold everything in place properly, but not so tight as to cause discomfort or restrict normal bloodflow to the area. It would not do to disrupt the natural process of healing, anyway. The process complete, Rilien tied off the bandages, glancing back up and blinking slowly at Aurora. âYou wanted to speak with me about something else.â He was not asking a question.
She'd managed a single, "What?" before the first nick of pain caused her to wince. She turned her head away from the wound as he proceeded to dig out the pebbles from her arms, wincing and twitching with every new stone found. Once the wound was cleaned and rebandaged, she drew her arm tentatively away, and inspected the fresh gauze. "Where did you learn to do that," She asked.
That was obviously not the question she originally had in mind, but Rilien was not particularly bothered by it. âSer Lucien once had a tendency not to watch his back.â Rilien lifted his shoulders, just slightly. âAnd I was once the only person around when he was stabbed in it.â Apparently, some basic trauma and field medicine was standard training for officers in the Chevaliers, however, and so Rilien had simply followed Lucienâs instructions when it came time to sew up such a wound. It wasnât like thereâd been any healers about at the time. It had seemed a useful skill, and heâd plied the man for the rest of his knowledge on it as they crossed Ferelden.
Aurora's eyebrows arched and then lowered in one fluid moment. It shouldn't have been surprising, a man like Lucien was sure to find himself on the wrong end of a blade. But the fact that it was Rilien that made sure that those wounds didn't slow the man down made an odd kind of sense, she supposed. Shrugging the thought off, she leaned forward on the counter, careful to put her injured arm over top her uninjured one. "It's... Milly," She said, looking up from the counter and to Rilien. "I'm... Not sure what to do. Still," She revealed. Amalia and Nostariel had lent her their aid, but they were both otherwise occupied. Rilien was the next best choice to talk about it. Perhaps even better.
He was tranquil, yes. She even glanced at the sunburst branded into his forehead before she lowered her eyes again. It was the same one that Milly wore, but he was not Milly. He was different. Aurora supposed she always knew that, that Rilien wasn't the average Tranquil. But now that one was living with her, it only made her all that more aware of it. It was hard to place her finger on it, he certainly didn't feel like an ordinary person, but neither did he act like an ordinary tranquil. There had even been moments where she'd forgotten.
If there was anyone who could help her, it was him.
It took him a second to place the name, but as soon as he did, it was obvious why sheâd come to him, though he wasnât sure exactly what she was expecting of him. âDo with her?â He turned the words over in his head for a time, occupying himself with clearing away the used supplies, save the salve, which he left on the counter. It would serve more use with her than with himâdaily applications would continue to stave off infection and dull pain, neither of which he had any use for personally at present. Stowing the box back beneath the counter, Rilien screwed the lid back on the glass jar and pushed it slightly to Auroraâs side of the counter.
âGive her something to do.â It was a fact that Milly was entirely incapable of caring what she was told to do, and would obediently do anything, providing she saw no logical reason not to, but that did not make her a piece of furniture. âShe has no magic and no emotions any longer, but she is still possessed of a mind and a body. Those are things with uses. Allow them to have a use.â He would not be able to do it, himself, not without feeling the inclination to do something else instead, but that was not exactly the case with proper Tranquil.
âIf it makes you feel any better, choose something she would have wanted to do were she the person she used to be. I understand she helped out at the Wardenâs clinic for a time. Perhaps a task suited to the care of others.â He paused, thinking it over. âBut do not keep her with you to soothe your own conscience only. She is capable of making do anywhere, but her presence will only bring trouble to those around you. Who would keep a Tranquil but a mage?â His words were not without the faintest trace of irony, for he knew several non-mages who would quite likely not mind having him around. The only one heâd actually lived with was true to the form, however, one of many reasons Rilien chose not to make it obvious that he in fact lived with her.
It was blunt, but she expected nothing less. It was not in his nature to sugar coat the truth. As he spoke, Aurora's head sunk lower and lower into her shoulders until her chin rested in the crook of her elbow. "It's not that, it's..." She trailed off. It was what? Would she truly try to tell him that she didn't keep Milly around because she felt guilty? That she was somehow trying to make things better by keeping a watchful eye on her? No, the simple truth of it was that Milly lived with her because of some vain attempt to protect her, when she couldn't when it was most important. If Aurora saw it, then so did he, probably clearer than she did. "How do you do it?" She asked, looking up at him. Whatever the answer was, it probably wasn't enough, but it didn't stop her from asking.
Rilien tilted his head slightly to the side, unsure he understood the question. âI do not know what you refer to. I do many things. Most of them because I learned from someone who knew a great deal of them at some point. If you are asking how it is that I operate with autonomy despite my condition, the answer is simple: my Rite was interrupted, and I still have a thread of connection to the Fade. It is not enough to work magic with, but occasionally I dream. And I have some preferences, such as not being in a Circle.â He took a seat at the counter, perching on the stool and hooking his ankles over the legs of it.
âThough it is in truth the best option for other Tranquil. There are parameters in place for them to learn trades, and they are more understood by mages and Templars than by ordinary people.â Not that anyone understood them especially wellâto this, he could attest quite effectively. Still⊠in Circles, at least, they were usually respected, and only the apprentices ever looked at them strangely. Not, of course, that any of them would care, but it wasnât Milly that needed peace of mind here, clearly.
"I'm not sending her to the Gallows," She spoke adamantly. "It's because of them she's Tranquil," She continued, anger bleeding through her words. It was not directed toward Rilien, nor even all of the Templars. The mages are watched, night and day, and yet the Templars are not. No one was watching when the Templar stole the mages from the circles and the streets, nor were they watching when they pressed the brand into Milly's forehead. Who would be watching Milly then, if she was sent to the Gallows where there may be more Templars like the ones that gave her the Rite. She would rather go in her stead than to send Milly.
Rilien gave her a flat look. âI never said you should send her to the Gallows. I said she would likely be best off in a Circle.â
If she knew what else to do, she would've stayed at home. But again, she found herself lost in the dark unable to find the answers on her own. Nostariel was the best choice, but she was exhausted and spent much of her time beside Sophia's bed. She had heard what the woman had done, there weren't many in Lowtown who didn't. She acted with equal measures of bravery and rashness, though Aurora felt it was not her place to judge. She made her choice, and now she was dealing with its consequences. She could do nothing but wish the woman a speedy recovery.
Amalia was her second choice, but chances were she wasn't in any better of a place than she was. The Qunari had left but she had stayed. No doubt she was no searching for her own answers. Instead, she travelled into Hightown, toward the one person that she knew the recent events had not changed. The bell leading into the shop labelled Enchantment rang as she entered.
The proprietor of the shop was currently by himself, taking inventory. His locking mechanisms were much more clever than the average such thing, but they werenât all that much use against looters determined to break down his door, which in the end was still simply wood. The break in had happened on the very first day, else Rilien himself likely would have been around to put a stop to it. Alas, the looters had made off with most of the shiny objects in the store, which was to say the silverite, lyrium, a few of Sandalâs runes, and the few weapons that had been displayed on wall mounts. Theyâd also smashed much of his glassware. Another small group had taken the previously-missing door as an invitation to pick over the remnants. They were four more dead looters for the undertakers, removed the night after. The door had been replaced three days ago.
With it in place and order mostly returned to the city, Rilienâs suppliers would soon be back in business, so he was taking an accounting of everything he would need to order to bring himself back up to stock, and then extra, because Knight-Captain Cullen had just requisitioned a large number of potions from him. It would seem that there were many injured or dying Templars and mages, more than the Circleâs own resources could properly handle. And Rilien was very good at what he did.
Marking down something else on the slightly-curled parchment beneath his quill, Rilien did not initially look up when the bell jingled, indicating the entrance of someone new. He could feel the magic on the person, and it was by this point familiar enough that he recognized her without needing to look up. âAurora. What do you require?â
The first thing she noticed was the lack of glass in many of the cases. It seemed that even Hightown felt its share of the looting. Probably by those either braver or more desperate to attempt such an act. Even her own door had been knocked on in the days since, but Amalia's reinforcements saw to it that it remained closed. She had to break the arm and leg of a pair of such looters to even get back inside. She nodded in greeting and made her way to the counter, taking a seat in of the stools lining it. She let a moment pass between them, gathering her words before she finally spoke. "Clean bandages would be a start," She said, rolling her sleeve up.
Her entire forearm was bandaged, though the worst of the wound had since healed. Speaks of deep red still stained the bandages in a straight line across the middle of the arm. The bleeding had long since been staunched, and Amalia had seen to it that the wound wouldn't become infected. "This is all that we had," She said, staring at the arm. Milly had bandaged it for her, though cut off from her magic and emotions, Aurora was left to heal the natural way. The fight she had received the wound was still plain in her face. A cut over her eyebrow had also been bandaged up, and there was a twist to the tip of her nose, mirroring the Tranquil's own. He had been right about treating it quickly, it seemed.
Perhaps fortunately for Aurora, the looters had not found it necessary to steal Rilienâs medical supplies, and for a moment he ducked under the counter, returning to his previous position with a mid-sized wooden box in hand. From this, he withdrew a roll of bandages, a red potion, and a sterile knife. âMay I see the wound?â After Aurora complied, laying her bandaged arm across the counter, Rilien cut away the old bandaged with a practiced flick of the small blade, exposing the wound to the open air. It did not appear to be in any danger of infectionâwhomever had looked after this had done so with enough care that it was healing normally. Still, he used the tip of the knife to push the potion bottle closer to her, an indication that she was to drink it.
There were, however, fragments of stone in the wound, something that he took to be the result of a rock armor spell, in all likelihood. âThis will not be pleasant.â He did not find any more warning than that to be particularly necessary, and set about removing the fragments either by leverage from the surgical knife, or if he could reach them, a pair of thin metal tweezers. A few of them were embedded such that he had to make small fresh cuts in the skin, but with these, he was unerringly precise and entirely unmoved or worried by the fact that he was causing any sort of pain, allowing in fact for a minimum of it to be inflicted.
Moving away the soiled bandages, he started to unroll the fresh ones, reaching into the box with his other hand and withdrawing a small jar that, when the lid was removed, proved to contain some sort of greenish paste that smelled strongly of mint. A small, flat wooden instrument was dipped into it, and he smeared the paste along the line of the cut. It was much more pleasant a sensation than most, being rather cool, as such wounds tended to accumulate heat as the body made to repair what of itself was broken. The paste would protect and speed the process, and the potion would as well, but there wasnât really a substitute for simply recovering in time, unless of course one was possessed of the right kind of magic.
Rilien was not.
Lifting her arm, he expertly wound the bandages around the wound, firmly enough to hold everything in place properly, but not so tight as to cause discomfort or restrict normal bloodflow to the area. It would not do to disrupt the natural process of healing, anyway. The process complete, Rilien tied off the bandages, glancing back up and blinking slowly at Aurora. âYou wanted to speak with me about something else.â He was not asking a question.
She'd managed a single, "What?" before the first nick of pain caused her to wince. She turned her head away from the wound as he proceeded to dig out the pebbles from her arms, wincing and twitching with every new stone found. Once the wound was cleaned and rebandaged, she drew her arm tentatively away, and inspected the fresh gauze. "Where did you learn to do that," She asked.
That was obviously not the question she originally had in mind, but Rilien was not particularly bothered by it. âSer Lucien once had a tendency not to watch his back.â Rilien lifted his shoulders, just slightly. âAnd I was once the only person around when he was stabbed in it.â Apparently, some basic trauma and field medicine was standard training for officers in the Chevaliers, however, and so Rilien had simply followed Lucienâs instructions when it came time to sew up such a wound. It wasnât like thereâd been any healers about at the time. It had seemed a useful skill, and heâd plied the man for the rest of his knowledge on it as they crossed Ferelden.
Aurora's eyebrows arched and then lowered in one fluid moment. It shouldn't have been surprising, a man like Lucien was sure to find himself on the wrong end of a blade. But the fact that it was Rilien that made sure that those wounds didn't slow the man down made an odd kind of sense, she supposed. Shrugging the thought off, she leaned forward on the counter, careful to put her injured arm over top her uninjured one. "It's... Milly," She said, looking up from the counter and to Rilien. "I'm... Not sure what to do. Still," She revealed. Amalia and Nostariel had lent her their aid, but they were both otherwise occupied. Rilien was the next best choice to talk about it. Perhaps even better.
He was tranquil, yes. She even glanced at the sunburst branded into his forehead before she lowered her eyes again. It was the same one that Milly wore, but he was not Milly. He was different. Aurora supposed she always knew that, that Rilien wasn't the average Tranquil. But now that one was living with her, it only made her all that more aware of it. It was hard to place her finger on it, he certainly didn't feel like an ordinary person, but neither did he act like an ordinary tranquil. There had even been moments where she'd forgotten.
If there was anyone who could help her, it was him.
It took him a second to place the name, but as soon as he did, it was obvious why sheâd come to him, though he wasnât sure exactly what she was expecting of him. âDo with her?â He turned the words over in his head for a time, occupying himself with clearing away the used supplies, save the salve, which he left on the counter. It would serve more use with her than with himâdaily applications would continue to stave off infection and dull pain, neither of which he had any use for personally at present. Stowing the box back beneath the counter, Rilien screwed the lid back on the glass jar and pushed it slightly to Auroraâs side of the counter.
âGive her something to do.â It was a fact that Milly was entirely incapable of caring what she was told to do, and would obediently do anything, providing she saw no logical reason not to, but that did not make her a piece of furniture. âShe has no magic and no emotions any longer, but she is still possessed of a mind and a body. Those are things with uses. Allow them to have a use.â He would not be able to do it, himself, not without feeling the inclination to do something else instead, but that was not exactly the case with proper Tranquil.
âIf it makes you feel any better, choose something she would have wanted to do were she the person she used to be. I understand she helped out at the Wardenâs clinic for a time. Perhaps a task suited to the care of others.â He paused, thinking it over. âBut do not keep her with you to soothe your own conscience only. She is capable of making do anywhere, but her presence will only bring trouble to those around you. Who would keep a Tranquil but a mage?â His words were not without the faintest trace of irony, for he knew several non-mages who would quite likely not mind having him around. The only one heâd actually lived with was true to the form, however, one of many reasons Rilien chose not to make it obvious that he in fact lived with her.
It was blunt, but she expected nothing less. It was not in his nature to sugar coat the truth. As he spoke, Aurora's head sunk lower and lower into her shoulders until her chin rested in the crook of her elbow. "It's not that, it's..." She trailed off. It was what? Would she truly try to tell him that she didn't keep Milly around because she felt guilty? That she was somehow trying to make things better by keeping a watchful eye on her? No, the simple truth of it was that Milly lived with her because of some vain attempt to protect her, when she couldn't when it was most important. If Aurora saw it, then so did he, probably clearer than she did. "How do you do it?" She asked, looking up at him. Whatever the answer was, it probably wasn't enough, but it didn't stop her from asking.
Rilien tilted his head slightly to the side, unsure he understood the question. âI do not know what you refer to. I do many things. Most of them because I learned from someone who knew a great deal of them at some point. If you are asking how it is that I operate with autonomy despite my condition, the answer is simple: my Rite was interrupted, and I still have a thread of connection to the Fade. It is not enough to work magic with, but occasionally I dream. And I have some preferences, such as not being in a Circle.â He took a seat at the counter, perching on the stool and hooking his ankles over the legs of it.
âThough it is in truth the best option for other Tranquil. There are parameters in place for them to learn trades, and they are more understood by mages and Templars than by ordinary people.â Not that anyone understood them especially wellâto this, he could attest quite effectively. Still⊠in Circles, at least, they were usually respected, and only the apprentices ever looked at them strangely. Not, of course, that any of them would care, but it wasnât Milly that needed peace of mind here, clearly.
"I'm not sending her to the Gallows," She spoke adamantly. "It's because of them she's Tranquil," She continued, anger bleeding through her words. It was not directed toward Rilien, nor even all of the Templars. The mages are watched, night and day, and yet the Templars are not. No one was watching when the Templar stole the mages from the circles and the streets, nor were they watching when they pressed the brand into Milly's forehead. Who would be watching Milly then, if she was sent to the Gallows where there may be more Templars like the ones that gave her the Rite. She would rather go in her stead than to send Milly.
Rilien gave her a flat look. âI never said you should send her to the Gallows. I said she would likely be best off in a Circle.â