faderift | { OPEN } catchall for the month

"Of course," she says, though she still comes to her side, opposite Garahel. "Might I do a quick exam in the meantime?" Christine won't demand answers from Inessa when she clearly needs time to collect herself, but she looks completely wiped out and the healer naturally wants to cure her of this.

Inessa nods gingerly, just enough to be seen but not enough to make the dizziness worse. "You can, but I don't expect a conclusive result. I have been examined before, and...nothing, twice now." She sighs, annoyed at that more for the inference to her work than anything else. Garahel whines again and watches Christine hopefully, though. She's good, she can fix Inessa? Maybe?

Christine tries her best, but looking her over and hearing from Faith that nothing is wrong inside the elf's body leaves her with a familiar feeling. Nothing could be found to be wrong with her either. And she was examined twice too; once a self-exam and the other time it was Sam.

"Ah, what symptoms are you suffering from? And has this happened before?"

"Dizziness, disorientation, exhaustion...and yes, it has. There have been other episodes; I was hoping they would vanish, but the frequency and length have increased." She heaves a sigh, not expecting Christine to find anything but frustrated at this continual impeding of her productivity. "When it vanishes, I am fine once more. But now I'm always anticipating another spell."

Those haven't been Christine's symptoms, but she can't discount that the timing of their manifestation and duration in Inessa lines up with her own symptoms. Now Christine leans on the edge of her friend's desk, a line of worry crossing her forehead. It's frustrating to have no answers; to feel like one is drifting in a vast ocean without sight of the shore.

"I am sorry that I can find nothing wrong with you. This will be little comfort, but I too have been experiencing strange symptoms. They are not the same as yours, however. I have been experiencing weakness in my legs, as well as... I have no other way to describe it beyond my body freezing in place. I cannot move or speak."

Her brow furrows at that news, Garahel perking up with a curious grunt. "As though by a paralysis glyph, would you say? And your own episodes, are they increasing in length and duration as well?" She frowns in thought, reaching for her teapot. The fog is receding, so she'll pour for them.

"I would say so, though I have not been trapped in one before." Her gaze shifts to the teapot and she nearly asks if Inessa's sure she's well enough, but the question makes her hold off and she answers instead.

"They are. I have tried to go on as normal, thinking maybe I could stop them if I took better care of myself, or trained my body like today. I worry a day will come when I will be unable to perform my duties here."

"I had thought -hoped- it was a passing thing as well, perhaps a winter slump? But...." Inessa sighs as she hands Christine a cup. "There was a meeting recently, among those of us who were trying to narrow down commonalities. We thought then that there was another common denominator, but now that you've told me your story, I'm beginning to suspect it might be Circle mages in general."

She stares downward at her cup for a moment, before meeting her friend's gaze. "Christine, do you know what happened to your phylactery?"

Christine takes her cup, but doesn't yet take a sip. She hadn't heard about this meeting, but that's little surprising. Only Church, Sam, and now Inessa know she's suffering from something strange. The others have probably wished to keep it quiet too.

"How many of us?" she asks, a sinking feeling coming to her stomach. Whatever this is isn't natural. It's almost like they're being attacked. Her brows furrow and she sets her cup down on the desk.

"Well, it was destroyed, of course, along with all Orlesian mages' housed in the White Spire." But such a direct question as this means Inessa has a theory, and in an instant Christine figures it out too. Suddenly things start clicking into place, and all color drains from her face.

"You suspect someone is using our phylacteries to control us. I--" She stops, clears her throat, and tries to compose herself, gripping her hands tightly together. "I have heard rumors that after a batch of Harrowings, sometimes the Templars would move a cache of phylacteries to secret locations, since having them all in one place would make them an easier target for destruction. But this... this makes sense. It is what you theorized at the meeting?" Christine squeezes her eyes shut, feeling faint. "I cannot guarantee that my phylactery was destroyed."

As Christine gets it, Inessa nods grimly. She had a similar reaction when it was brought up, and it's only that she's had some time to consider the idea that she's the calmer of the two. Relatively.

"We suspect -a few of us- though it's not known for certain. And yet, I cannot guarantee that my phylactery was destroyed either, nor can they. It's a possibility that we can't rule out, not yet." She sighs, making herself take another sip as tea tends to soothe her nerves. "I had found schematics for armor runes that would ward against blood magic, back in Nevarra. I even had one affixed to my armor; and yet, it did not prevent this. If the use of my phylactery is at fault, it's an exception. I thought you should know, if you tried using those runes as well."

"I had not, but it is disturbing that the runes do not protect against this, if this is due to the phylacteries, that is. But I cannot fathom what else it could be. No apostates -- or those not raised in a Circle, I should say -- have reported this? I can see no other thing that links us. Elf and human, Fereldan and Orlesian... if the apostates are not affected, it must be the phylacteries."

Christine rubs her hands up and down her arms, feeling a sudden chill. So hers had to still be out there: in someone's hands, but in whose?

"What else was said at the meeting? Surely you all suspected a group of using our phylacteries. Red Templars seem obvious, but they would have to enlist the help of a blood mage. Venatori, perhaps? Trying to control southern mages for their cause?" Whoever is doing this, the implications are horrifying. The symptoms seem to suggest someone trying to exert control, like Inessa's dizziness or Christine's freezing episode, though perhaps it's the Red Templars simply trying to kill them.

"No, I've heard nothing from or about any apostates. That seems to confirm it must be the phylacteries, even as we have no solid proof yet. Even if it's somehow unrelated -which I doubt- it proves that the issue of their existence in a post-Circle world has been overlooked for too long."

She stares grimly at her tea before taking another calming sip. "It could easily be one or the other group, interested in weakening the Inquisition. I don't want to rule out anything else, though. We know too little to narrow it down definitively, just yet."

"But what is the next step? How do we begin to track down our phylacteries?" She looks at her cup, but doesn't attempt to lift it. While it appears to be soothing for Inessa, Christine would probably just spill it on herself right now.

Her brow furrows. "...phylacteries are better known by templars, we might have to ask them. Or perhaps Casimir might have knowledge to spare regarding that."

She absently pats Garahel as he rests his head in her lap. "Can I share what you've told me? If there's another gathering, it's only right that you be included if you wish."

That makes Christine release a breath of frustration. The last thing she wants is to let the Inquisition's Templars know that the Circle mages are vulnerable and could be a danger, if whatever is happening is meant to control them.

"Please, him first. I want to avoid telling the Templars as long as possible. That is, unless one of the other mages has already told them." She can envision some of the Loyalists running to the Templars about this. It'd just be typical.

"You may tell them you know another mage afflicted and give my symptoms, yes. If pressed, you can tell them who I am and that not all Orlesian mages had their phylacteries destroyed. I will not be attending any meetings." Christine probably doesn't need to explain why.

No, Christine doesn't, and Inessa's not about to push on that subject. She nods, unsurprised but still feeling as though she ought to offer. "I'll do that, then, and inform you should there be a breakthrough of any kind.

As for Templars, I don't believe they are yet aware...though the longer this persists, the harder it will be to hide from anyone, let alone them. We must be prepared for that eventuality."

"Indeed," she answers, displeased but knowing that it's inevitable. Either someone will tell before the group is ready, or their symptoms will make hiding this an impossibility.

"I do not know how I will rest tonight, knowing what I know now."

"I'm sorry for not making that any easier, I truly am." She sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Despite these...incidents...I won't be idle. We'll get to the bottom of this, Christine. One way or another, it has to happen."

Garahel huffs his agreement with that, staring at them both pleadingly.

"It does. None of us can continue on like this." Christine forces a smile tinged with sadness at poor Garahel, who for all his intelligence can't understand the full extent of what is going on here. At last she takes up her cup that Inessa poured for her and takes a sip. It doesn't work to soothe her any, but it keeps her hands busy.

"There are still some hours in the day left to get some work done. Perhaps I should before I--" she stops herself from what she was going to say, head dipping a little. "Before I head home." Of course, what she was initially going to say was "before I have another episode."

Inessa nods, understanding without needing to be told directly. "I'm thinking of telling Serah Shivana; he seems unaffected, and I'll need someone to focus on the project for me, should this worsen. Is there someone in the red lyrium project who can do the same for you?" Normally she would volunteer herself, but....

"I had not given it any thought," she replies with a sigh. Christine is a woman who prefers to handle everything herself, which leads to her being overworked but in full control. "Sigred can probably handle things, should this worsen." Seeing how she's a dwarf, there's no way she could get caught up in all this.

Standing up, Christine forces a weak smile before saying, "Thank you for the tea, but I had better go."

Inessa manages a tired smile and nods as Garahel leans into Christine, giving her some affection before she departs. "Please take care of yourself, Christine. Especially now."

{ OPEN } catchall for the month

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