faderift | [Open] No boom today. Boom tomorrow.

Entry tags:

[Open] No boom today. Boom tomorrow.

WHO: Anders and anyone! Or, well, almost anyone. Sorry, Fenris and Cullen...
WHAT: Anders arrives at Skyhold, takes a new fake name, and tries to get a measure of the Inquisition while keeping a low profile. Starting in prose, but will switch to brackets to match if that's preferred!
WHEN: Mid-haring
WHERE: All over Skyhold, choose your location?
NOTES: Warning for Anders? I can't think of any real ones atm, I'll update if that changes.

He's tired, but that's nothing new. The road's been long. It shows in the way he leans a little on his staff, a fairly generic-looking thing that's far from his old appreciation of things flashy, just as it shows in the state of his rather ragged-looking robes and the scruff of a beard that he doesn't exactly like. At least he's not dead on his feet - the company of a few refugees more than willing to bear the brunt of conversation on the way up had made the last couple of days more bearable than usual.

Now he's here, and the strain is back on his shoulders. Skyhold holds more than the usual level of danger but there's no getting around the fact that he has to at least visit this place. The Inquisition is likely to be a player in the future of mages, and Anders will not see the little bit of progress made be undone out of fear, or laziness, or naivete, or any other number of things that could cut down freedom for his people.

But that doesn't mean he knows how to go about working toward that, just yet. And that means he's slowly going around the fortress, gathering information by listening and asking simple, short questions. They have to be short. The second-to-last thing he can afford is to slip up and let Justice get too accusatory, which could lead to the last thing he can afford - to be recognized by someone who would turn him over to the 'authorities,' such as they are.

"Have you been with the inquisition long?" is one of the most frequent questions, along with a follow up if the answer is yes: "Do you think they treat mages well here?" It's not like he's hiding the staff, after all. But there are more simple questions mixed in as well, questions about the need for herbalists or healers, about where one might find a warm enough corner to sleep in, or where one can lose what few coppers they have over a game of cards. They're general. Careful. They have to be. He's no longer ready to die.

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Kallian had heard rumors of the man asking questions in Skyhold. Questions about mages. About healers and herbalists. Questions she did not want leading to her. She didn't trust it. Who knew why this man wanted that information? It was too dangerous, and Kallian kept her guard up lest he find her and try to take her by surprise or discover her secret.

And then, she saw him. He wasn't doing anything. He didn't even look particularly menacing, just shabby and weary like any number of refugees and pilgrims who had come to swell Skyhold's population. Kallian was wary, but at the same time, there was something about him... Something she did not quite know how to explain, but it drew her.

Slowly, cautiously, the little elf approached. The closer she got, the more he seemed oddly familiar. But why? Something nagged at her memory. Something about the eyes...

A cold day, years ago. Maman was late. She should have been back hours before, but she wasn't. No food in the house. She was worried and hungry and slipped out of the alienage into the marketplace. The smell of pies was in the air, and her stomach growled as she shivered. No one seemed to take any notice of the little elf girl, except the vendors who shooed her away from their stalls. Until someone in a cloak pressed a tart into her hands. From under the hood, he smiled at her, held a finger to his lips to shush her, and then disappeared into the crowd...

"I've seen you before," she blurted, surprised by the memory. "Years ago. You gave me a tart in the marketplace."

The first words nearly make his heart stop in worry, but the continuation gets her a closer look, a considering one. Rarely had he been able to afford tarts, which places that as... And then he remembered, and a small, tired smile lit up his face.

"You lived." It wasn't exactly the best thing to say, and Anders realized it a moment after he'd spoken, giving her an awkward shrug. "I'm sorry. You were the little one in Denerim, weren't you?" He'd thought about her in the days after that, from time to time, but there had been other worries and before long she'd slipped his mind.

"And here you are now. You've been with the Inquisition long?" She was a remnant of his past, his life before Justice, before everything had gotten so complicated, and the nostalgia and memories threaten his little smile.

She inclined her head, a shy, delicate gesture somewhere between a nod and a show of deference.

"I did, yes, thanks to the Grey Wardens. If not for the Hero and his companions, I would have ended up in some darkspawn's belly, no doubt. I owe the Wardens my life. I wish I could thank them, but I've never been where they are, it seems." She shrugged, but the soft wish of gratitude began to stir Hope, just a little bit.

The start of a shy smile tugged at the edges of her lips.
"I have not been here long. Only a few weeks. And, a few bits of providence and charity helped me get this far." She glanced at him from under dark lashes. "I realize I never got the chance to thank you, either, for helping a poor, nameless girl in the streets. I... would remedy that. Human kindnesses are not to be overestimated in how often they are received. Just saying it doesn't seem like enough. If... there is a favor or a kindness I might show you in return..."

As she spoke, she had drawn slowly closer to him. Close enough that Hope began to hearken to her old friend Justice. Kallian felt the electric spark of recognition, that indescribable feeling of like seeking like. Abruptly, she recoiled with a gasp, eyes widening in surprise, panic flashing across her face. She rocked to her toes, poised to run, but at the same time was frozen to the spot. It wasn't that she was afraid of him so much as the old fear of being revealed for what she was.

Did she know? Was that a veiled reference to his own status in the past? It might be, but if she's had little dealing with the Grey Wardens she may not know how rare mage Wardens were, and how much more rare a Spirit Healer who'd slipped away from the Wardens was.

Then she continued, and he felt a little relief. She didn't know. It was just the tart she was thankful for, nothing else. And then they felt the spirit, Hope. Before he could even smile, she's reacting in fear and he caught on to what was going on.

"I'm an apostate." His voice was low, eyes intent on hers. "When you saw me, I was hiding what I was. Trying for freedom." The words weren't directly about her status, and anyone who overheard might likely think he was just speaking about himself.

"Would you like to walk with me?" There was fear in being a mage. He understood that well, and he couldn't blame any mage who simply wanted to hide and run. They deserved freedom, and some weren't strong enough to fight for it. That didn't make them any less deserving. "There's no pressure if you don't. You don't owe me for helping you out when you were hungry."

Freedom.

That was the word that made Hope shine like a beacon. Freedom to breathe and live and not have to hide in the prison she'd made for herself, closed off and shut away from everyone, without any room for trust or friendship or love. Freedom to go where she wished or speak her mind without worry about whether or not it would mean trouble or worse. Freedom was what she had longed for her entire life. She preferred to think of herself as a free mage, not an apostate, but it rang hollow without the actual freedom to live as one. And it was that word, that promise of hope, that made her forget her fear for the moment.

She was still cautious. A female elf alone with a human man was cause enough to be wary, but he... he was like her. He had been kind to her. She owed him kindness in return.

"Yes. I will come with you," she agreed, moving to his side.

"...I'm sorry if I revealed you. I didn't mean to," she said quietly after a while. She bit her lip. "...you felt it too, didn't you?" She glanced upward, her expression clearly carrying the unspoken question: You know what I am, don't you? You know I'm like you.

"I felt it." Felt her spirit, saw her fear. "And you've nothing to worry about when it comes to revealing me. I'm known to be a spirit healer. That's actually how I'm supporting myself, here."

She's an adult, now, but there's something that makes him want to protect her still and look out for her. Maybe it's her size, though he'd never really felt that way with Merrill. ...Though that could have been the blood magic, really.

"If you need cover, I'll provide it. If you'd like lessons, I'd be willing to give those too. There are many dangers for mages, and lack of training is a great one, especially when healing."

It's worth it, whatever help she needs. Helping her is one of the few things he can feel proud of in his past.

"And call me Detlef."

She looked up at him in awe. He was so... open. And still offering her kindness. It was strange to her. He didn't seem to intend any harm, but why her? What made him see her when no one else did?

"Detlef..." She repeated the name softly to herself. "I'm Kallian."

Nervously, she tucked a lock of hair behind one of her ears.
"I've had some training. 12 years of it. I had a mentor in the alienage who was Circle-trained, but she got away, and took me in. Taught me what she could. Made Kinloch Hold sound like Fort Drakon, though. Only a few people here know about... what you felt. Survival always used to mean that no one could know, and in many ways still does, though, ah... she disagrees with that."

"Kallian." And at last a tiny girl who was a part of his past had a name. It was something of a relief to have a name for one person he'd saved, when he'd hurt so many. That doesn't redeem what he'd done. But it eased some of the guilt for it.

"And your mentor wasn't wrong." He wondered if he knew the mentor. It was possible, but he likely shouldn't ask despite his amusement at the thought Kinloch had lost two Spirit Healers to apostasy. "Most Circles are, were, cruel places. I hear tell of better, but I've yet to meet a mage who was happy to be in their cage, gilded or harsh. Did she tell you you were fully trained? Your mentor, not the other... she that I believe you're speaking about."

"I, ah..." Kallian shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

"...she died, actually. Quite recently. She was elderly, had no one else... Our roles were very clear, she was teacher and I was student, she was not my mother or grandmother nor I her daughter or granddaughter. But... I handled her final affairs, and then I left to come here. There was no one left to keep me safe within the alienage. I would have been at the mercy of the elders, and no doubt they would be working to marry me off at this very moment if I had stayed," she explained, "And good luck to them finding me a match."

"So... to answer your question... I don't know if I was fully trained, but I had stepped beyond mere apprenticeship and was doing things mostly on my own, as much as one can when trying to keep such things under wraps." She sighed. "It doesn't take a Circle to be caged."

"It doesn't, no." There are so many ways to be trapped, so many ways to be enslaved. Anders mulls over the rest of what she's said as they walk. There's not a chance he wants to delve into topics that will bring her pain, and likely asking more questions about the other mage will just do that. He doesn't need a name, doesn't need to know if he knew her mentor once, a lifetime ago.

"We could run through what you know, perhaps find a patient who is injured and willing to be discreet, and I can feel you heal. Or I can heal someone with you in the room and we could discuss it after. There are ways to figure out what level of skill you've achieved with using spirits. But only if you'd like." Is a half-trained Spirit Healer dangerous? Yes. But so is he. He's a hypocrite in so many areas, but forcing another mage to reveal their abilities is not one of them.

Kallian offered a hint of a grateful smile. He's not pressing, not trying to force a connection. He's giving her a choice, which was in itself a rare and precious opportunity. Kallian had been fed a thousand warnings about human men, but maybe, just maybe, Detlef was a good one. One who might actually protect her from the others who would hurt her without a second thought.

"Animals," she suggested. "What about animals? They can't talk. Niella had me do a lot of my powers training on animal subjects. People were used to train me for more mundane aspects, like applying poultices or giving medicine. I know it isn't exactly the same, but... It's still better than nothing..."

That's what freedom was. Choices. The ability to make them and to know that they were your own. Mages should all have access to them, no matter what consequences the choices brought. They were people, they deserved it.

"Animals work. Maker knows there are dozens of mabari around here who would be docile enough to allow treatment, though they'll likely lick your face, during. Horses potentially, but there are often people in the stables who may question why a pair of people are there. If only there were more cats..." His voice was wistful for the briefest moment before he shook his head. "Though cats hide when they're hurt or ill. We'd spend more time hunting for them than anything else."

He takes a few steps in silence before looking over at Kallian again. "What do you feel about another Spirit Healer knowing your secret? She'll sense it as soon as she runs into you, anyway, but I ask because she's connections to mabari. It may be easier if we go through Adelaide."

"Actually, pigs are nearly ideal to work on, if you can find available ones," she remarked, "Their bodies are surprisingly similar to those of people. Their skin, their organs... Almost just like ours. And not many people question if someone's with the pigs. Though they do laugh sometimes."

"As for Adelaide..." Kallian sighed. "...she already knows. She found me in the crowd. Came up to me. Hope's beacon is a bright one, I suppose. I asked her not to tell anyone. She said she would, but... I don't think she liked hearing that." She glanced up at Detlef. "She said there was a third one... like us... working in the healing tents. Were you the one she meant?"

"Pigs. The Inquisition has to have pigs." He says it like it's certain, but honestly he's still getting his bearings. "We'll look around and find some. And yes. I'm who Adelaide means."

It's a sad statement to the state of things that having three, or two-and-a-nearly, spirit healers is a big deal. If they had their freedom, there would be so many more. But Templars took so many mage lives out of fear, and Spirit Healers were special targets, being so open and attuned to spirits. Mages could change the world for the better, if only given the chance.

"She's a Circle mage, and from the sound of things she never tried to become an apostate. That group... Adelaide is a wonderful woman, but she'll not understand those of us who seek to remain away from the Templars. Maybe in time she will, as she gets more used the freedoms Skyhold offers, but not yet."

"She seems kind," Kallian said, her voice soft. "She offered to protect me. Told me to tell her if anyone gave me trouble for any reason. She says mages here are free. That they rule themselves. Have a Council or something. That because the Chantry doesn't recognize the Inquisition, the Templars have no authority."

The lines of her face hardened.
"But there are templars here. I know. I've seen them. Templars are sworn to... deal with mages whether in a place recognized by the Chantry or not. Their mission is the Maker's Word. I don't think the Chantry is going to care if they cut down every mage in the Inquisition. And with no more Circles, what other sanctioned options do they have except to maim or kill? As long as they're here, there is no freedom for mages. No safety."

Her mouth worked for a moment, lips twisting and pursing.
"I think Adelaide means well. But she will never understand. She will never know the protection needed to disappear from the Templars. Never know what it's like knowing you're seen as vermin, undesirable in every way. To be something that can be hunted for sport and know that you can't do anything to stop it once they have your scent. Never know that no one cares if you live or die."

He takes another breath and looks around before stopping their forward progress and stepping off to the side. There's no one nearby, but he doesn't think they should risk walking into someone while discussing this.

"There are Templars here. One of the most callous I've known when it comes to mage lives is here, one who has called for the Rite of Annulment at Kinloch Hold. Cullen Rutherford. However." She needs this however, he needs this however. "So is a former Knight-Commander who is the reason I've a hope of change, Alayre. He believes in mage freedom and rights. In equality. I've known one other Templar to be kind toward mages as well. Many Templars, possibly even most, are murderers. But some are not. And if we are to find a permanent freedom without that fearful, constant watch over your shoulder, we need those few. We cannot, as much as I don't like saying this, hold our freedom without them. Not yet. We're untrained in how to fight Templars, while they know exactly how to take down mages."

Anders searches her eyes as he pauses. "She does not understand. She does mean well. But that doesn't make her less. It simply means she's not had the same struggle as you and I. Let her have her hope, and let us encourage that hope, because freedom will come if enough mages believe we have it. If mages see our choices and options and understand that they are now ours we will be free because the Templars will not be able to cage us again. We need her, and she needs us."

Kallian was silent for a long time.

"...there was one templar I saw that meant well. I was still a child. It was during the Blight," she said softly. "He was blind, so... he never saw me. But the orphanage--" Her voice broke and it took her a moment to regain her speech.

"...I don't know why or how, but a demon was released into the orphanage. There were no survivors. One of the children was my best friend. My last real friend. But the templar took the Hero in there, and... they got rid of the demon."

She went quiet again for a bit, but then looked up. Hope was prickling in her mind, in her fingers, shining bright in her eyes.
"...so what is it we do now?"

He knew all about the loss of friends, including those lost to demons, which meant he was quiet through her story and long enough for her to come up with something to say after. Hope's stirring was almost tangible, and it got her a faint smile.

"For now, we train. We'll find the pigs and I'll teach you. If you decide you're ready to be known as a mage, there's two things we can aim for then. Until then, is there anything else you'd care to learn about? I've no ability for entropy, but I'm Circle-trained and have done my fair share of research and practice."

Both of the tasks the mages should be working on, in his opinion, require the people to be known as mages. She's not ready for that, so it's survival and training she needs to focus on.

The little elf shivered at the mention of entropy, her pale skin turning faintly green, like she might be sick.
"...I've heard enough about entropy that I'm OK with not learning it. There's one thing I know that's close but..." She shuddered. "I don't like the idea of hurting anyone. I do this to help, to make people better, keep them safe..."

She hesitated, shaking her head, dark hair falling into her face.
"...I can't. I can't let people know. There are still too many people in the world who consider the double sins of what I am and what I do bad enough that I don't deserve to live and will be all too happy to carry out that sentencing. I just... I can't. Especially since I have no way to know who thinks that and who doesn't. Well. Except you two who know. But Hope tells me he won't let you. Neither will Compassion."

She bit her lip.
"Still. I want to help. What are the aims? Maybe there's another way I can do something."

Slowly, so slowly, Anders reached out and pushed some of her hair back, telegraphing every move so that she knows he's not going to harm her.

"The first way is to put a face to magic. Hating a whole group of people is easy, but hating specific ones who you've gotten to know is far more difficult. The man who warms drinks with fire spells at the tavern, the woman who used force magic to get your child's ball unstuck from the roof, they've become people to you. If non-mages know us as people..." He shrugs. It doesn't always work, but the people in Darktown who would have sold their own mother for a bowl of soup hadn't turned on him.

"Second, we make it indispensable. Make people realize that magic's useful if you're not locking all of the mages up. They can't ignore us like this. They can't."

Her breath caught in her throat and she went absolutely still when he touched her. She blinked at him bemusedly, as if everything were suddenly alien to her.

"But I'm no one."

Her instinctual response. The magic words that usually made her shrink back into the woodwork as if she'd never been there at all.

"No." The word is certain where his touch hadn't been. He lowers his hand carefully nonetheless, realizing she's still scared even of him. She's like a kitten, in a way, though no kitten would think themselves no one.

"You are someone, Kallian. Even more than that, you are a survivor. You escaped the orphanage, the alienage, Denerim, avoided the Circle, and now you're here. You've a story and an identity, and you are not no one. We'll find a way for you to help and contribute, because there will be one."

It doesn't entirely tie into what he'd just said, but it won't be the first time him and Justice not quite seeing eye-to-eye has lead him to contradict himself.

"It may take some time and thought, but we'll do it."

She paused, her eyes flickering over him. Only minutes ago, he'd been a virtual stranger. He'd been kind, yes, but could she trust him?

Kallian looked in his eyes. Looked for the spirit she knew lay behind the man, and something in her face turned harder. Crystalized.

"...I don't know what it's like for humans," she said, her voice soft, but there was an undertone of something rough, "And it wouldn't be fair of me to expect one to understand. Especially not with what happens to most humans who come to see what an alienage is really like. But where I come from? We have our dreamers. Our beauties. Those who want to stand up. Be noticed. Be someone. And do you know what happens to the ones who try to burn bright? They get extinguished. So, yes. I am no one. Because that means I'm still alive."

He was quiet for several moments. What she said goes against everything he feels, and everything Justice feels. The only reason Anders survived escape after escape is because he was known, his abilities were known. If he'd been any other mage, he would have vanished like countless others, murdered or transferred or made tranquil or something. The point was that no one knew what happened to so many, because no one asked. They weren't known.

Justice, on the other hand, disagreed because things would never change without someone standing up. Kallian wanted to hide.

Neither of them was going to reach her. Anders sighed.

"You don't know. And I don't know what happens in alienages. I've only been through a couple, never staying for long. I can't push you to become more than you are and more than you want to be, and I won't. It's your choice to be as you want." If he tries to push that, then he's just as bad as anyone else taking peoples' rights away. "All I ask is you consider that you've left the alienage behind, and that being someone may no longer be a death sentence. It may, in fact, help more than just you."

Kallian looked downward, examining the scuffed toes of her shoes.

"I... I want to believe that. So does she. I want there to be a day without darkness or thunderbolts, no ignorance or bloody retaliation. A future where no one kills anyone else, where there is love between all people, and harmony and light and joy and life... But that day hasn't come yet. I don't know if it ever will."

She squirmed.
"I had to sleep in a lot of strange places getting here. There was one night, cold and wet, that I couldn't find any other shelter, so... I went to the chantry there. Most people there just ignored me. A few noticed me, and looked at me like they would look at a dead rat. And there were these templars... They didn't see me, I had found a place to sleep curled up underneath a table, but I could hear them talking... About mages. The things they thought they deserved. That they brought on themselves. How Thedas would be better off without nonhumans, especially qunari or elves... I could barely sleep. I have never spent a night more terrified as I did that one. I would have been safer in the rainy gutter. The sisters teach us that we elves should be grateful to the Chantry, to Andraste, but then those serving it say such horrible things..." She shook her head.

"I don't know. It's a pretty dream, but I don't know if it's pretty enough to wipe out all the ugliness there is."

[Open] No boom today. Boom tomorrow.

Forward-dated a couple weeks

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