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

[fleurdesel]

Precisely. But if they are all going to flip back on us this way...

[ Something is missing. Something innate is off- both rituals had been performed to the letter, the intent was there, the power had been just so. ]

There is a variable we must not be accounting for. Once is a fluke, twice is the beginning of a pattern. The next involves dream walking and I am not going to go through with this until I know for certain what it is I am missing.

[unharrowed]

I'm fascinated by the idea of dream walking. Also frightened. It seems like a good way to attract the attention of demons.

[And at that little admission, a small amount of color rises to her face.]

I hate admitting that I'm scared. [Sigh.]

[fleurdesel]

It is. [ This, at least, is less personal and mortifying and more along the lines of what she would tell her students. ] Normal fade dreams are much like walking around with a small oil lantern in hand. Dream walking is dragging a bonfire behind you.

[ There's a teapot somewhere among the stacks of books and papers- Adelaide moves aside a sheaf to try to find it. ]

Fear comes from two things: the desire to survive and ignorance. Learning when you ought to learn more about what leaves you afraid and what is your mind attempting to keep you alive is a perpetual lesson. Even I have moments when I am uncertain. Though those moments have been less 'moments' and more 'weeks' as of late.

[ Too much? Too much. ]

[unharrowed]

[Learning that Adelaide experiences uncertainty does nothing to affect Vasran's respect for her. In fact...]

Persisting despite uncertainty is something to be proud of. Better than doing nothing at all. [She might have said as much without the curse.]

[fleurdesel]

I cannot very well stop. My students need me to move forward, the Council has it's duties to fulfill to the Inquisition's mages-

I cannot stop. Otherwise I may never start again.

[unharrowed]

Well, that's a dark way of putting it.

[Maaaybe she wouldn't have been so blunt and sardonic with a teacher, normally.]

Were you looking for this? [The teapot. Vasran could see it from where she's sitting, and so she lifts it, offering to pour. In the process, she decides to explain rather than brushing what just happened aside.]

I wouldn't normally have used that tone with an instructor. But I'm not sorry about it, circumstances being what they are. I'd been getting tired of holding my tongue.

[fleurdesel]

That is an understatement.

[ Adelaide manages to unearth the two cups- one for herself and one for Vasran, from where they'd been hiding behind a stack of books. ]

Be sarcastic. Be wry. Be loud. It does not matter so long as you apply yourself to your studies and use your wry, sarcastic, loud voice to ask questions. To seek alternate perspectives. There is a reason one of the more frightening spells to counteract a mage's skill is called silence. So long as you are not terribly disrespectful? I do not care.

[unharrowed]

You're not like the Enchanters at Kinloch Hold. I like that.

[Her voice hitches a little, there, at the end, and she swallows, takes a breath as she finishes pouring and sets the teapot down again.]

Thinking about them makes me want to cry, sometimes. [Shit. Well. In for a copper...] I don't know what happened to them. I suppose some of them must have gone to Redcliffe, but if they did, they should have made it here —

[She's going to snap her lips closed and cut herself off there, before she gets too carried away with the emotion.]

[fleurdesel]

...well that explains quite a bit.

[ Kinloch. The more she hears of that tower, the less she likes it.

Adelaide looks away for a moment to give Varsan space to find her composure- as she would rather anyone would do for her were she to lose it. Harsh realities of the war- losing what little support and family they've managed to build, for better or worse.

Most often? It is worse. ]

If they are here I am certain we can ask around and find them. It was Chaos for every tower I have heard of when the war began in earnest. There are many of the Spire that I am certain are dead. If they weren't I would have heard from them by now. They know we have sanctuary with the Inquisition. [ Wait- that isn't comforting. ] They may yet find their way to Skyhold.

[unharrowed]

Like I did. [She can't say it's impossible — for more than one reason, just now.

Still, she adds with a sigh as she turns her teacup around on its saucer:] But they're probably dead.

[Her gaze falls down to the pages in front of her, and something catches her eye.] There's something here that might be relevant. The language is too dense for me to fully understand, but look — this passage here — [She passes the book over, careful not to knock it against any of the stacks.]

[fleurdesel]

That is quite likely. The war...did not make survival easy.

[ Too much strangeness, too much chaos. Adelaide turns her eyes to the notes before her, hoping to pick out what went wrong. A single variable could have twisted things around- but not in so specific a way. ]

Let me see? [ She peers down at the paragraph, mouthing the words to herself. ] Good eye. You remind me of a friend I had in the Spire when I was an apprentice.

[unharrowed]

I'm glad. I like impressing people.

[And maybe it's because she's keyed up from the dark turn this conversation took, but the blunt, on-the-nose-ness of that strikes her as shockingly funny. She lets out a sharp giggle, and picks up her tea.]

[fleurdesel]

Something else we have in common. [ a beat. ] Merde.

[ One can laugh or cry. With Vasran giggling, Adelaide finds that course far more appealing and attempts to smother her own low chuckle with a gulp of tea. ]