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It took everything in Valya to appear calm, to keep her features relaxed and her body still. How was it possible that this would be the hardest part, after everything she had done to get here? All the—
No, it is done. Don’t think about it.
There was no doubt that the elf before her was Garahel, Hero of the Fourth Blight. Though if he still would be, she had no means to know. He scratched the back of his head below his golden hair, brilliant green eyes sparkling as he gave her a dazzling smile. Somehow, the texts had failed to mention this.
The woman next to him, who had short-cropped black hair and an athletic frame, had to be Amadis, of course. They were almost draped across each other, hands, hips, legs, all placed just so that even while standing in front of her, as much of their bodies were touching as what could be passed as decent.
“Can you show me on a map?” Garahel asked carefully. She couldn’t blame him. If a stranger suddenly came up to her claiming to know where darkspawn would next appear, she’d be wary as well.
“Of course,” she said calmly, though her heart raced in her chest. She had spent enough time poring over her own maps to get this right, studied enough texts, made enough notes, and had studied it all over and over, so she wouldn’t make a mistake. She could feel the comforting weight of the notebook tucked in the satchel slung across her body, together with the diary.
She looked at the map laid out on the table behind him, carefully tracing the landmarks until she got the spot she was looking for. She pointed with her finger. “Over here.”
He moved a marker to where she pointed.
“Also here… and here… and here…”
For the last one, he used an empty teacup, stained where the last drops of tea had dried.
“Fascinating,” Amadis said, seemingly genuinely fascinated. There was no malice in her voice, only curiosity. “And you say you’re a seer?”
She kept herself from swallowing. “Yes. The gift manifested with my magic. I live in a village not far from here, and I want to help you. The Grey Wardens,” she added unnecessarily.
The couple looked at each other, wordlessly communicating. They both seemed to have an almost flippant nature, constantly charming and smiling, even in the midst of the Blight they had to deal with. But there was something else below the lawyer of joviality, a… knowledge. An edge. Still… they didn’t yet know, she thought to herself. This is only the beginning, they had no idea how long this will take.
She had been beyond relieved to learn that her estimations had been correct, that she had arrived before the decision that would change Thedas forever. She had to get these people to trust her, she had to get them to listen. One person in particular, if any of the things she had done was to mean anything, she had to befriend her.
As if summoned by her desperation, the sound of giant wings suddenly reached them, and Garahel leaned over to look out the window. “Revas,” he said. “Come on,” and she was grateful to be included in his gesture.
They have to accept me as one of them.
Even though she had been expecting it, Valya couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of the muscular, black, full-grown griffon touching down in the courtyard before her. Two people dismounted from it’s back, as easily and gracefully as if it was something common. Something that happened every day.
This is why I’m here! This is what I’m fighting for!
“We’ve found the entrance to the Deep Roads that the darkspawn had been using,” an elf who could only be Isseya announced as she walked up to them, an older, tall man with a feathered hood following her. Calien—the blood mage—Valya realised.
Garahel looked surprised for a moment before he turned to Valya. “We can check what they say against your information,” he told her. “See if your locations are correct.”
“You have information?” Isseya asked, surprised.
Next to her, Calien suddenly stiffened, watching Valya intently. She fought to keep her features calm, to look relaxed under his scrutiny.
“Oh, this is Valya,” Amadis said from where she was draped over Isseya’s brother.
Calien’s reaction had drawn Isseya’s attention, however, causing her to look more closely at Valya herself, which in turn made her blush even though she was fighting so hard against it. She could feel herself breaking out in sweat. Stay calm, stay calm….
Isseya started to unbuckle Revas’ harness, scratching at the griffon’s fur as she went.
“When do you want to hit them?” Amadis asked her.
“Soon. Tomorrow, if we can,” Isseya said.
“It’s good work, let’s do a flyover tomorrow and see if we can collapse it,” Garahel decided. “There’s an extra bed in your room, isn’t there?” he asked Isseya. “Would you mind showing her? Also, where she can get some dinner?”
Isseya merely nodded, and Garahel and Amadis left, leaving her alone with Isseya and Calien. Calien the blood mage. Had he already taught Isseya the dark arts already? The moment they were out of earshot, Calien spoke, his voice quiet and low to make sure it didn’t carry.
“You are a blood mage,” he stated.
Where her heart had been beating fast before, it simply stopped now. “I’m a seer,” she said, faltering a bit before she squared her shoulders. “The gift manifested with my magic, and—”
“I can feel it on you,” Calien interrupted her.
Shit. She didn’t know that was possible! Everything in her revolted at the term, years of conditioning screaming in defiance. Yet… wasn’t it true?
“That… I suppose I should get used to being called that. Though I didn’t expect anyone to know,” she admitted. Maybe this was what was needed to gain their confidence. “This means you’re a blood mage too,” she added, even though she already knew.
He nodded, his face stoic. “It would be best if this stayed between us.”
“And you…?” Valya asked Isseya, hoping against all hope.
“Yes,” Isseya said almost dismissively, causing Calien to look at her sharply. She clearly didn’t want to get into the details. “How do you know about the entrance?” she pressed.
“The spirits told me,” Valya said, her rehearsed answer ready on her tongue. She had only used blood magic once and was determined never to do it again. To be fair, it was a pretty big “once”. It was no wonder Calien could still feel it on her. Her spell had required immense amounts of power, a feat deemed almost impossible by most of the dark texts she could find. Almost… but not quite. So, she had studied the spell, done as much cross-reading as she could, and then went to find some blood. A lot of blood, more blood that one, or even six bodies could give. She had needed a massacre.
Word had reached them of templars near Weisshaupt, and she had known that it would only be a matter of time before there would be conflict, the war between the mages and templars too volatile for them to just wait it out. So, she had left, scared and alone and armed with only her staff, notebook and a diary important enough to change the fate of the whole world. It had taken her three days to find where they were camped, and all the skill she had to stay unnoticed while she followed them.
It took another three days before they ran into a group of mages, and horribly predictable, the fight had ensued. A very bloody fight. A massacre. A massacre she didn’t want to be a part of, but had to join in self-defence while she looked for what she wanted.
Bodies. Fresh bodies.
She did not want to think about the ritual she had started, even in the middle of battle, she did not want to remember the look on the mages’ faces when they finally noticed her and what she was doing. It had been impossible to ignore the power she had raised, but by the time they had noticed it had been too late. And the templars never knew since the magic wasn’t of the Fade. And then she had turned and stepped back in time.
Part of her had never expected it to work, but it had. And she was suddenly standing in the Hossberg wetlands alone, covered in blood, exactly where she had stood four centuries into the future. And about two days away from Hossberg Castle.
And against all odds, against every single drop of common sense, here she stood, in front of Isseya, the woman whose trust she had to win, whose path she had to guide, to keep her from making one of the biggest mistakes in history. The diary felt heavy in the satchel slung across her body, felt almost as if it was radiating heat. Her imagination of course.
What impact would this have on the future? Would the Blight still last twelve years with the information she could give them? How different would the future of the Grey Wardens look if they could keep the griffons by their side? Would the people she had known even exist in a future such as that? She would never know. She certainly wasn’t planning on using that ritual again.
She had to make it work.
~~~+~~~
Isseya watched the strange new elf, fast asleep on the cot next to hers. For some reason, she had the feeling that she had to keep her close. There was something strangely compelling about her, something in the earnestness with which she answered, tried to be helpful. She wasn’t telling them everything, but there was no doubt that she wanted to help. She would keep an eye on her, try and befriend her and see if she could figure out what it was she wasn’t telling.
Her eye fell on the satchel she’d been carrying, and for a moment she considered peeking inside, just to make sure… No. If she were to be her friend, she could be patient and do this the right way.
She quietly left the room, closing the door behind her, and went to meet Calien to learn the arts of blood magic.