Let No Soul Hunger For Justice: Nothing But The Truth

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Adelaide, Alistair, Anders, Bethany, Nathaniel, Varric, Vasran, Velanna
WHAT: The Second Ritual
WHEN: 10th of Bloomingtide (May 10th)
WHERE: half an hour outside of Skyhold
NOTES: Plotting post.

They've kept to the same clearing as the last, because the location's good. Far enough away that no one could stumble upon them by accident, near enough in case something went seriously wrong, it works.

He has scarcely more hope this time than he did the last, but at least there's no singing involved. This can't go as strangely. In theory.

Comments

[tactical_alert]

[Malcolm doesn't find conversation in the library odd. There are always plenty of people browsing the books for studies together, investigations into this or that. He won't admit that he's here to find something more...entertaining, but here he is, browsing nevertheless. It's the fact that nobody answers her that catches his attention. That and her words in particular are...noteworthy.

He leans out from the nook he's in to pinpoint her and wanders over, keeping his voice low.] Pardon me, but do tell, how does a 'real mage' act that you feel you aren't being one?

[unharrowed]

[Vasran feels her spine straighten to attention at the sound of his voice. Despite what she was only just saying — despite the fact that she knows she won't, because she can't — she tells herself she ought to be careful with her response.]

A real mage knows how to handle themselves. [Good start, her inner critic tells her, even as she tries to shush it.] A real mage has authority, experience. They don't wait to be told what to do all the time.

[tactical_alert]

[That's bold of her, in a way he doesn't seem to mind. He has nothing against mages and is fully aware of the atrocities and slights they sometimes are subjected to, so the idea she presents is hardly frightening.]

I imagine life in a circle entails primarily of waiting to be told what to do. Experience and authority only come with time and effort. You have plenty of time to cultivate both.

[unharrowed]

[Only with time and effort, he says — and yet the title can be bestowed on anyone who survives one particular night.]

They never told us what to expect in the Harrowing. As I'm sure you know. One night, you would just be pulled from your bed. If you were still around in the morning, and you weren't Tranquil, you were a mage. Officially.

[She looks away during this next part, but doesn't try to stop herself from speaking.] I was meant to go through my Harrowing. I couldn't have known when, exactly, but my Enchanter had said I would be ready soon. And then the rebellion started. I was forced to leave the Circle.

[tactical_alert]

The Harrowing is...a tradition. Some might call it outdated or unnecessary. [Mostly mages, in truth.] It is a test which proves that apprentices are strong enough, in will, in fortitude, to be trusted with their skills within the Circle.

[So what must it mean to the apprentices who haven't completed one? No wonder she muses on being a true mage.] What you speak of are two different concepts. There is the passing of the test. The technical title bestowed on you. But for confidence, for self-respect, those do come with patience and time and how you act, how you use your powers.

Perhaps you could speak with those in the mage council of this? If not going through a Harrowing troubles you so.

[unharrowed]

I've already spoken with Adelaide about the possibility. [The merest hint of a smile, at that, and a little more light in her eyes when she looks back.] We'll be speaking more about the arrangements once we resolve the problems with this ritual.

[tactical_alert]

And, if I may ask, which problems are those?

[unharrowed]

We've been cursed with telling the truth. [She's wary of admitting it, but not as much with Malcolm as she would be with others.] I prefer it to being forced to sing every time I open my mouth — that's what happened last time.

[tactical_alert]

[He blinks in surprise.] I'm sorry to have missed that particular ailment. Forgive me, I thought we were still talking about issues with Harrowings. What is this ritual that seems to be backfiring on you so readily?

[unharrowed]

[Vasran opens her mouth, takes a breath - and thinks again before she speaks.]

Do you not know? I'm not certain who they've told.

[tactical_alert]

[He isn't one to take advantage of people - except in battle. So he'll try not to now. Still, if she's magically compelled to tell the truth (and thank the Maker he isn't afflicted with it), she's doing a good job of at least not lying.]

If it is meant to be more on the side of a secret, I'll not press the matter. I'm aware there are many affairs being tended to to varying degrees of danger, although I can't say I'm privy to them all.

[unharrowed]

[It took the group at large not long at all to realize the divide between 'compelled to tell the truth' and 'compelled to speak.' It's a divide she's been making good use of, where she can.]

I trust you, but I would still prefer you ask Adelaide, once the effects have worn off. She's been taking the lead on this endeavor — anyway, I'm not sure she wants word of what we're doing spreading too far, considering who he is.

[Of course, once you've started talking, sometimes it's not so easy to catch yourself in time. Vasran presses her lips into a thin line, hoping what he said about not pressing still holds true.]

[tactical_alert]

[He opens his mouth, an intake of breath to ask a curious question--but then stops himself. Do not press, as he had said. Instead, he licks his lips in thought of how to proceed.] I will certainly keep that in mind, my lady, thank you. In your opinion--apparently your honest one-- [sorry, sorry] would this endeavour concern me?

[unharrowed]

Not if we were to succeed. It would be a great benefit to the Inquisition, and quite possibly to all of Thedas. [She dares a smile again, feeling genuine pride at her involvement, still, despite the hiccups.]

[tactical_alert]

Then allow me to wish you luck, my lady. With the hope that more of these...mishaps...will prove absent in your future. [He's super tempted to ask who else is afflicted, aside from Lady LeBlanc...]

[unharrowed]

[She favors him with a silent nod before turning back to the shelves, returning to her search. Her chin is raised a fraction higher, her spine rests straighter. She's proud of how she navigated that conversation, and she's not making a secret of it.]