It took one full day, but the mages and Tranquil built an impressive infirmary with the little materials they had. Heavy canvas was used for both the outer walls as well as inner walls. This allowed for privacy if needed. Discarded crates and scrap wood were used to create furnishings such as tables, shelves and more. Henley and Ilara had worked out shifts for all the mages. Master Taigen and Adan seemed to be relieved to have the help. They had been tending to the wounded through non-magical means, but as attacks increased, they feared their herbs and potions would not be enough. When Evelyn and Sorin weren't working in the infirmary, there were many other tasks to be done such as cleaning linens, gathering herbs, potion making and making rounds delivering remedies. Evelyn hated all of it. Her idea of doing good was much different from a healer's calling, but here she was at the mercy of Ilara.
"Isn't this wonderful! We actually get to spend time together doing magey things!" Her enthusiasm was far from appreciated.
"I say this with all the love for you in my heart… I hate this. I miss the surge of adrenaline I get from my fire spells. Healing is so slow paced, and besides I'm no good at it."
"That's because you keep forcing it and it's making it harder for you to connect your mana to people. You must feel their hurt and give them what they need. It takes practice just like anything else." With the increasing patrols and attacks in the surrounding area the infirmary saw a constant stream of patients with a wide variety of wounds and ailments. "You've always been about showing the people the good mages can do, and that's exactly what we're doing here."
"You're right Lar. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest that your work is any less important. Maker knows how many times I've needed you to patch me back up." Ilara gave her a heartfelt smile and continued taking inventory of the supplies on the shelf. "By the way, do you have that "potion" I asked you about?" Ilara gave a laugh, digging through one of the pockets on her dress. Her search produced a small glass vial. Eager to have it, Evelyn went to grab it, but Ilara pulled it back.
"Hold on! I couldn't get the supplies to make what you wanted, but I know how much you want this so I made you a vial of my scent. It's rosewater and peony, very feminine." She said it while raising her eyebrows up and down, making Evelyn blush. She was kicking herself that she was letting Henley's words get to her.
"Maker's breath, I'm not going to live this one down am I? I don't like it that you and Henley now share everything with each other." Ilara laughed and shook her head.
"I would've thought your noble upbringing would have made you a bit more girly, but I suppose not. Not when you spent your time with your brothers." A fact that she cherished. She opened the vial giving it a sniff and without a doubt, it was Ilara's flowery scent.
"Shall we see how your scent does against sweat and blood?" She dabbed a few drops onto her neck and backs of her hands. "If it's alright with you boss, can I go spar with Sorin if I'm not needed here?" Before Ilara could answer there was a commotion across the camp. Soon people were hurrying the wounded into the infirmary. Even if Evelyn was no healer, she knew wounds and these were made by magic. Evelyn immediately forgot about leaving and instead waited for instructions from Ilara.
"E- I mean Althea, can you man that table, I'll send you people with minor wounds. Just help them with the pain." She followed her orders and waited for her first patient. Unfortunately, the wounds coming in were rather severe magical burns of various kinds - fire, lightning and frost burns. She wasn't trained to help with those, she could only alleviate pain and mend minor cuts. "Over there," she heard Ilara directing men over to her. She quickly turned to wash her hands in the wash basin before seeing to her patients as Ilara taught her. While the infirmary had been set up for a few days now, she had yet to actually tend to patients herself. There had always been someone else around to do it, but now with so many wounded Ilara needed her and she couldn't let her down. She was oddly nervous, but she contributed it to the fact that she was out of her element. When she turned to greet her first patients, she was stopped cold by the sight of the back of a fur-lined red mantle. She looked up in horror at Ilara who could only offer a shrug and slight frown. He was the very person she needed to avoid! Now she'd be forced into potentially conversing closely and touching him. A second man with a tattoo on his chin sat across from him in her little section of the infirmary. Both men were very interested in watching the treatment of the other soldiers, so much so that they all but ignored her completely until she cleared her throat.
"What can I do for you, sirs?" They still paid her no mind, thankfully, but the tattooed man mumbled over that he had pain in his shoulder. Holding onto his pauldron and lifting his layers, she slipped a hand in to find where the swelling was. Easily enough she found it towards his shoulder blade and began alleviating the pain. He mind went to Ilara's earlier words of advice as she worked.
"Ah, my thanks lass it…" when he paused, she realized he was looking at her, studying her face. Not shying away, Evelyn's noble defiance fought to break through her innocent façade as the man went a bit slack-jawed. She forced herself to focus back on his shoulder, wondering if aside from alleviating his pain she alleviated him of his wits as well.
"I promise you I won't sprout a second head, a forked tongue or whatever else they say about mages." Why can I never just shut up. She wasn't supposed to be talking to them. The man broke into a hardy laugh forcing her to sway along with his body as her hand remained on his back.
"Cullen did you hear that, she's not only pretty, but she's a witty one!" He continued to laugh while she rolled her eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by him. "I'm sorry lass, I only meant it as a compliment with the utmost respect." She regarded him for a few moments, looking over the chiseled features of his face eventually giving him a small smile and nod trying not to continue their conversation. "Aye, you have a soft touch too. Of the healers I've been to, none made the pain go away as quickly as you have. You must be very skilled." An embarrassing laugh burst through her pursed lips.
"Be sure to tell my boss that, she'll love that!" I must be touched in the head. What part of 'no talking, keep your head down' don't you understand? The tattooed man laughed harder.
"What's your name lass?" Fuck Trevelyan, fuck.
"Althea, ser."
"I'm Knight-Captain Rylen and this is --"
"We've met already, Rylen." Of course, he remembers me. She was counting on him not remembering her in the short time they spent together. She remembered the way he looked at her back during their first meeting, recalling the way he scrutinized her then. She had decided then he was dangerous and now she knew she was right.
"Good to see you again Commander, though I'm not sure it's good if you're here in the infirmary." It was one thing if he remember her, it was another if she suddenly began to act suspiciously. She just needed to keep the conversation away from her. "How's the shoulder feeling now, Knight-Captain?"
"Good as new, thank you Althea." She took a few steps over to the wash basin again to cleanse her hands before tending to the Commander. To her surprise, Rylen thankfully stayed and the two men talked about what went wrong during the attack. With Rylen here, it gave her an excuse to shut her mouth while he distracted the Commander. When she was ready, she closed the short distance over to him and stood at the ready. The two men still conversed, not paying her any mind. They talked about how there were just too few Templars and far too many rebel mages. They were exposed to their spells without protection and their archers were just not hitting their marks having been raw recruits with little training and experience. It sounds like they could use a pair a of Knight-Enchanters, if you ask me. After a few minutes, they realized she was just standing there eavesdropping again.
"Oh, ah it's my side here." He pointed to his upper rib cage. He just stared at her while she stared back unmoving.
"Um, you're going to have to...," she gestured to his fur mantle. With the realization of why she had been staring at him, he began to disrobe enough for her to slip a hand up his shirt. He untucked his layers from his pants holding them up for her. Trying not to gawk at his fine musculature, she placed her hand on the visibly bruised area, he jerked back at her touch. "Sorry, my hand got cold just standing there." Could this get any worse?
"Commander, you wanted to see me?" Henley appeared in the opening to her nook. At seeing her with her hand up the Commander's shirt, his eyes went wide. She gave him a look of, Yes, I know where my hand is, just keep cool. The three men talked through the precautions Henley was to take when he and his men went out on patrol. Henley was barely holding it together, looking as nervous and guilty as ever. Meanwhile, Evelyn focused on actually trying to do her job. She shifted her hand slightly closer to the center of his chest, following the pain. Her finger moved over the contours of his muscular chest and fine hair. She was close enough to smell the sweat and metal on him. Oh no.
"Henley, I'm impressed with what how quickly your group got this up and running. Pass on my compliments to Enchanter Ilara, she and her healers seem to have thought of everything. It even smells nice in here. Is that roses?" Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed hoping the ground would swallow her. She dared a look at Henley who was barely keeping his composure, now biting his lip to fend off a grin. Rylen's face gradually broke into a hopeless look as he shook his head at him. The Commander, seemingly the only one unaware that Evelyn was the source looked to his men narrowing his eyes in question. Having turned her head unable to look at the three men, she heard Rylen cough purposely, then heard the Commander clear his throat. Before she knew it, he was standing up tucking his shirts back in and retying his fur mantle. With a curt 'thank you' to her, he was out of the infirmary in a flash with Rylen on his tail. Henley however stood there cracking up laughing once they were out of earshot.
"Not a fucking word out of you." She growled at him.
"I don't know which is funnier, you wearing perfume or the Commander realizing it!" He roared with laughter garnering looks from everyone around. She slammed her head down on the table covering her head with her arms the best she could, mortified beyond belief. "At least now he'll avoid you like the Blight! Wait until I tell Ilara!" Erupting in laughter again.
***
It had been a little over a week since they set up camp at Haven and almost a month since he stopped taking lyrium. It surprised him when he was able to use a fraction of his old abilities against that Knight-Enchanter from Ostwick, Althea. He groaned inwardly at the thought of her name and the embarrassment of his most recent encounter with her. Flowers in the Frostbacks, what were you thinking Rutherford? He feared the withdrawal symptoms were already making him lose his mind. He probably should have timed it better, but he was too eager to leave that chapter of his life behind him, even knowing the consequences.
The most prevalent of his withdrawal symptoms were the shakes, nightmares and headaches. They came on without warning and were unpredictable; something he did not like at all. In the middle of meetings he fought for concentration against headaches and during training he tried to hide his shaking hands. Nightmares had always plagued him, but they had become worse robbing him of a few hours of sleep each night. The pain, loss of motor function and lack of sleep were like a perfect storm always keeping him in a state of extreme discomfort. While he always had a seriousness to his resting expression, he now wore a scowl reflective of his discomfort.
Yet, life at Haven rolled on and he had a mountain of work to do for the upcoming Conclave. He was pleased with how Haven fortifications were coming along and for how efficiently, for lack of true expertise, their team had organized the camp and its people. It was not Redcliffe Castle, but it was something. It was by luck, and a nicely timed letter from Rylen, that the Ostwick Circle Templars and mages had arrived so early. He regretted the fact that a makeshift tavern had been erected outside of the walled village before an infirmary, but their new allies from Ostwick made short work of it. Their skill had already been proven and tested, and while wishful thinking would be that they wouldn't need such services again, he knew better.
Their commanding officer Lieutenant Henley was a good man who came with a shining recommendation from Rylen. Just as quickly as he and Rylen had become great friends back in Kirkwall, he sensed the same camaraderie with Henley. The addition of thirteen experienced Templars from Ostwick greatly improved the morale of the ones they had who had also been displaced looking for a new purpose. Though he'd need more to safely accommodate the current host of mages. As a former Templar, he knew the risks and consequences of having too few Templars and he would not suffer through it again, not while he was in command.
"Ser, I've brought Lieutenant Henley." Cullen had sent Rylen to fetch Henley for a debriefing of the events in Ostwick, as they had yet an opportunity to do so. Wild rumors were flying around Thedas over the fall of their Circle. There was also the fact that there were any number of malcontents who wished the Divine's Conclave to fail and he and Leliana shared the responsibility of seeing that their people were safe. Not only were he and Leliana interested in making sure they vetted all new arrivals the best they could for trouble, but the Divine was after one mage in particular from Ostwick.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Lieutenant. We are just waiting on Sister Nightingale now." They didn't have to wait long as if by invoking her name she appeared instantly. She strode silent like a cat through the tent flap and over beside him. He was a good head taller than her, but it wasn't her stature people feared, it was her "eyes." Those who were not familiar with the Left Hand of the Divine were at a severe disadvantage, for chances are she already knew everything about them. Introductions were quickly made and they began their line of questioning beginning with the events in Ostwick. Henley confirmed that both the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter were dead; that majority of the mages sided with the rebels; that the same was said of the Templars. They asked about Ilara's credentials since she was in charge of the infirmary, all of which checked out against what Leliana's agents had already found on her, which was a spotless record. "We met two Knight-Enchanters the day we met, who are they?"
"More importantly, were they associated with The Phoenix in any way?" That was the real question on their minds. The whereabouts of Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan had yet to be found and she was wanted in some form or another by Lord Seeker Lucius, Enchanter Fiona, the College of Enchanters and the Divine - quite the list of names. The Divine was interested in having her attend the Conclave, provided she was innocent of the crimes she had been accused of. She believed having more high-profile mages attend would help from the attention of the rebels, who did not seem interested in any solution that didn't involve unrestricted freedom. Cullen's own feelings on the matter was mixed. In the past he had treated mages with contempt without cause due to the torture he suffered at Kinloch Tower. In Kirkwall, his former Knight-Commander encouraged the hatred of mages, but now he was more inclined to agree with those advocating for reform. Though he could never accept the complete freedom of mages without some form of oversight.
The reports out of Ostwick had been completely contradictory and no doubt the stories had became more embellished over the year since the Circle's fall. According to rumors out of Ostwick, Lady Trevelyan led the rebellion after receiving a beating from a Templar, then proceeded to kill the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. Whether the beating was justified was unknown, but it resulted in the fall of the Circle nonetheless. Other rumors suggest that there was mutual like and admiration between Trevelyan, Knight-Commander Tobias and First Enchanter Lydia, making their murder seem unlikely.
"Those were Knight-Enchanters Althea and Sorin. They --"
"Surnames, if you please Lieutenant." Leliana was naturally untrusting of everyone until proven otherwise. He wasn't sure if she was testing him or confirming information that she had already gathered.
"Apologies, Sorin Cyrus and…" he paused, "…and Althea Orianna. Both loyal mages to the Circle. Both have had experience working alongside Templars and were recognized for their excellence by First Enchanter Lydia. I trust them with my life."
"That's not what I asked. What is their relationship with The Phoenix?"
"Sister Nightingale, we all had relations with Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan. She was the pride of the Ostwick Circle. I had worked with her personally myself and would vouch for her character. Both Sorin and Althea studied under her and even traveled with her occasionally. When the Circle fell, she stood with us against the rebel mages. She has been made out to be the leader of the rebels when it is fact the opposite. The rebels would use her to justify their actions, but she'd never join them let alone lead them. As to her whereabouts, before you even ask, she struck out on her own in the Free Marches after she learned she was a wanted woman, not wanting to bring harm to the rest of us. We haven't heard from her since." It was an impassioned defense of the mage, but Leliana seemed unaffected. Henley was breathing heavy in his state of agitation. "May I ask why you want to know about her?" She didn't answer right away as if weighing her options in her head, trying to draw out the answers she wanted from him.
"The Divine would like to invite her personally to the Conclave. She believes someone of the Knight-Enchanter's reputation may coax more mages to attend, specifically the rebel mages. She's a fighter, they like that, not to mention non-mages listen to her. More importantly, because of her close work with The Order, Most Holy believes her presence would draw Templar support as well. She would be in a unique position to bridge the extremists on both sides. Most Holy is… determined for the Conclave to be successful."
"You don't want to arrest her?" This surprised him
"No, we just want her cooperation."
"I understand, but I don't know where she is."
"I see, thank you Lieutenant. That's all… for now."
"Thank you Henley, you're both dismissed." Henley seemed relieved which didn't surprise him - Leliana was a master at the art of interrogation and had a knack for making those she questioned feel like every answer they gave was the wrong answer. Once the tent flap closed, Leliana let out a sigh.
"He lied."
"About what?"
"Just a hunch. If you'd excuse me, I have a few ravens to send."
***
It had been a few days since Henley was questioned by the Commander and Sister Nightingale. It seems the Nightingale's reputation preceded her because she rattled Henley. From what he was able to relay back, the Divine did not want her arrested but rather sought her help. She supposed it made sense politically since the Divine did encourage the Mage Rebellion. Now she was trying to reign it in and failing, hence the Conclave. Evelyn weighed her options carefully. If she were to make her presence known, how could she be sure the Divine could protect her from the Order, who no doubt wanted to make an example of her or the Free Mages who would force her cooperation sullying her reputation even more. Both groups had sent thugs throughout the past year looking for her, and none of the confrontations ended peacefully. And she certainly did not want to go to the College of Enchanters and wait in their tower like a cornered rat for whichever group would come get her first. Was the Divine really her best option?
Her worry was not just for herself, but for her friends and colleagues here with her. They had lied for her, would they be forgiven? Not to mention her presence would invite more attacks, of which she knew the Commander's forces were not ready for. She swore she'd protect her friends against the world, even if it meant herself. While Haven was growing steadily, most were not fighters, just people seeking refuge from the violence. Not to mention the freaking Divine was here. Could she in her right mind and conscience endanger her?
Evelyn couldn't make up her mind so she got up and headed towards the "tavern" they set up on the outskirts of Haven. The Singing Maiden was inside the walls, but no one aside from the Divine's inner circle and her officers were allowed inside the walls. With the majority of its drinking patrons settled outside of the walls, this bar out in the elements with a canopy over it was the best they could do. At least the ale was cold. Quickly downing the first drink, she seeped back into her thoughts while her second was being poured. Another thought came to her, as she listened absently to the distant sound of fighting coming from the gate past the blacksmith shop. No doubt, the Commander had it under control. She was itching for some action though. Her mana was not sated in its new purpose, and it craved its violent release. It made her restless, itchy in her own skin. She pulled a strand of hair from her bun twirling it endlessly on a finger.
"Glad I wasn't the only one who thought it wasn't too early for a drink." Sorin pulled up a stool next to her. They had been so busy with the infirmary that this was the first time in days they had been able to sit and chat together. "You hear the fighting? No doubt Ilara will need us back soon." If it was the rebel mages at it again, that would certainly be true. So far from what Henley had told them they had only come up against small wandering groups of mages.
"Yes, I'm trying to take my mind off it. It's insufferable." She took a big swig of her drink. "And I still can't decide what to do. Between that and the fighting, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I keep hoping for a sign or divine intervention to decide for me." The sound of the fighting was becoming louder as smoke began to rise on the horizon. Still, she ignored it now hoping the Commander had it under control. No doubt Henley and the other Ostwick Templars were with him.
"I wouldn't hold my breath." Sorin held his tankard out to her and she clanked her second drink to his first. She was happy to sip this one, but Sorin downed his. "You're sooner to be found out by Sister Nightingale. I've heard what they say about her. If you're her target, it won't be long until she figures it out. Are you sure you want them to find out that way? Especially considering they just want your help." There was a loud explosion across the frozen lake coming from the mountain pass to the bridge to Haven. Both mages looked up to see that the trees had caught fire. It was the mages again. They looked to each other with knowing looks of how useless they felt.
"Are we positive of that? I wouldn't take a former Orlesian bard at their word."
"What about your leverage?" Leverage? She didn't think she had any, evident by the confused face she made. "They want your help, you're hung up on protecting us - which while touching is stupid - you promise them your help in exchange for protection. Be sure to include your own protection as well. If the Divine wants your help bad enough to sic her Spymaster on you, I'd say you have some leverage."
BOOM!
The ground shook beneath them. Looking back over her shoulder towards the bridge, her early assessment was incorrect; the Commander did not have things under control. Fireballs were raining down from the high cliffs by the bridge. She could see men running back across it, while archers tried to cover their retreat. The camp erupted into chaos as people began running to the gates of Haven where the soldier had begun letting people in for safety. More explosions went off from within the pass and the all too familiar crackle of magic snaked its way over to them. She breathed in deeply feeling the rush of her mana bottling up inside her. She looked over at Sorin and knew he was feeling the same. There was a hunger in his eyes like she had never seen before as his chest heaved forcefully. When his predatorial eyes snapped over to her, she let loose her hair. Cool blonde tips cascaded forth whipping across her face then falling down her back as the tight bun uncurled.
"They never told us that we couldn't defend the camp right?" With that the two were up and running for the bridge dodging those running the opposite way to safety behind the walls.
"So we're doing this?" Sorin called to her as they ran.
"We're doing this!" Like her bun, she had been wound up tight being "Althea." She was done hiding and this was her chance. More than that, Evelyn wanted to help where she knew she'd be the most effective. And it was time to show the Commander how effective she could be; the Phoenix would rise right before his eyes. As they reached the gate, Evelyn noticed the Seeker lying on the ground being supported by her elbows. A bald elven mage was tending to her wounds. She had been dragged in among others who were badly wounded. "Seeker Cassandra, we're here to help!" Cassandra grunted trying to push herself up farther, but the elf cautioned against it.
"The mages have the high ground. The men have no cover to retreat. The last time I saw the Commander he was in the pass trying to push his way behind the mages. We cannot let them get beyond the bridge at any cost. Go do what you can! Open the gates!" She called to a pair of soldiers who had barred the doors. As they ran out, other soldiers pushed past them to get in.
"You have a plan I assume?"
"Of course, who do you think I am?"
"Not Althea the healer, I hope." She laughed. No, she was certainly not that anymore. Sorin quickly cast a barrier around the area as fireballs reigned forth down upon them.
"You stay here and protect the retreat while I show these rebels what real fireballs look like!" He gave her a sly smile and went to work. The rush of adrenaline had made her a bit cocky in spite of the dire situation in front of them. Dozens were dead and the wounded scattered about in every direction. Just in front of the bridge, two steep ridgelines rose up high enough that she couldn't see where the mages were. She'd have to guess based on where their spells were coming from. It also made it impossible to know how many were up there. As soldiers ran past her she couldn't help but notice there were no Templars among them. A cold fear crept into her gut; they must be the ones headed up the pass with the Commander.
With no time to lose, she brought her mana forth in a spectacular display. The Phoenix had been released. The violence in which her mana manifested after being suppressed for so long was magnificent. Her fireballs flew more like firebolts with alarming speed and force compared to the enemy. The sound they made was terrifying as they collided with the rock face, shattering it into fine flakes. As she worked on the closest ridge to the bridge, firing off the occasional volley to the opposite ridge for cover, Knight-Captain Rylen stumbled out of the pass calling to the men who followed him to run for the bridge. He was banged up, but no worse for wear. Relieved that they finally had some firepower of their own, she winked at him when he flashed her a smile.
"Couldn't let you have all the fun, Knight-Captain!"
"Aye, plenty to go around, Knight-Enchanter!" He watched her at work for a moment before his expression turned to worry. "The Commander and Templars pushed ahead to get behind the enemy but got cut off. I'm not sure where they are or if they're even alive!" His voice was becoming hoarse from yelling over the battle. "If we can rally some of the men, I'd like to take you and your friend with us and go after them!" By the time they were done strategizing on how to go about getting through the pass, she had pushed back the enemy quite considerably. Trickles of blood and some dismembered limbs clung to the cliffs above. She didn't relent though and soon the loud crack of Sorin's lightning was heard thundering across the cliffs.
Rylen, satisfied that the two mages had the fight under control for the time being, left to rally the men to make the push through the pass. By the time he returned, the mages have made even more progress on their own starting their way up the pass without them. He brought back ten archers and the Seeker with him. They stayed behind the mages, keeping an eye out for any mages they exposed, which numbered quite a few. As they made it to the other side of the pass, attacks from the rebels quieted suspiciously.
"Best case we pushed them right at the Templars." Rylen seemed cheerfully optimistic, until of course Sorin spoke up.
"Or they are dead and the rebels are regrouping for an attack." Evelyn, Rylen and Cassandra all huffed at him. She could hear Henley's voice in her head, always the fucking optimist, Sorin. She worried for Henley and his men. Unfortunately, if something bad did happen to them, she didn't think the mages would be inclined to take a bunch of Templars as prisoners. Rylen had his men fan out to look for clues as to where they went when Evelyn began to sense a large build-up of magic nearby. Cassandra confirmed it and the group moved cautiously toward it. They walked for a few minutes before the forest erupted into a battlefield. The mages threw up barriers at the initial onslaught. Repelling the various elemental missiles, a voice called the assault to a stop. Barriers holding strong, some of the rebel mages stepped out from behind their cover.
"We'll talk to your mages, but I warn the rest of you should you get any ideas we'll kill your Templars and Commander!" Evelyn looked to Cassandra for consent, to which she gave a curt nod. She didn't seem to be in any condition to deal with the mages. Evelyn and Sorin lowered their barriers and started forward slowly together. Evelyn had been part of a number of hostage negotiations in her time with the Templars. They had been mostly escaped mages made desperate by poor planning on their part.
"Before we talk about anything, I need proof that the Commander and his men are alive." The mage in charge looked to be slightly older than she and had a recently healed scar slashed across his eye. He gave a whistle to his unseen comrades who brought forth the prisoners. Evelyn and Sorin stood stoic, unaffected by the look and treatment of their Templar prisoners. It had clearly been a hard fight for both sides, but it seemed the mages had the advantage of numbers. "Thank you, now what do you want?"
"We want to offer you and your friend a chance to join us, to live free. We could use two strong mages such as yourselves."
"Live free? We'll never be free, not in our lifetime and your actions here ensures future generations of mages will have even less freedom than what we had before the rebellion. Do you even know who you've taken hostage?"
"They are Templars. That's all we need to know. Cruel brutes who dealt out punishments as it fit their whim. Our kind is nothing to them, they don't even see us as people and now they will hunt every one of us down until we are all dead!"
"I won't deny that the Order has lost its way, but not all Templars are out to harm you! These ones specifically are not the brutes you speak of. They are in fact members of Divine Justina's Guard for the Conclave. Their job is to protect mages and Templars alike who want peace. I know them and have worked with them. They are good men and women, true Templars." There was audible grumbling from the other side and even a "Templar slut" thrown her way. "You want to force the world to change, to bow to "our kind" as if we are superior, but that is not the way. This is not Tevinter!" The leader wrinkled his nose at her but made the fatal mistake of turning his head to look back at the others. The mages began to talk amongst themselves again debating now whether they wanted such a mage among them.
"Sorin," he looked with only his eyes over to her, "do you remember Markham?" He nodded. "On my signal, if things go south." When they were Markham a few years ago they faced a slightly similar situation with a rather memorable outcome.
"We've heard enough from you! You're a disgrace to our kind! Here are our terms since you clearly are so brainwashed by your Templar masters. You and the others leave here in peace, but the Templars stay."
"Counteroffer, you release the Templars to us and we don't follow you. You leave here with your lives to fight another day, though you better hope we don't cross paths again."
"No." He nodded over to one of the mages who put their staff blade to the Commander's chest. Some of the other mages also drew blades on the men. He had made his choice, but so did she. She gave the signal. In an instant, she fade stepped to their leader shearing him in half with her spirit blade. The long arc of the arcane blade sliced through two other mages as well. Sorin, with deadly precision, let loose chain lightning striking down the remaining mages. Their violence of action was so swift, the others in their group took a moment to gawk before rushing to the aid of their friends. She felt relief at saving the men, but she looked at the fallen mages with pity. Mages had power enough to be formidable, but without the real-world knowledge of how to apply it, they were children playing with fire.
She grabbed the dagger from her boot and cut the binds on the Commander loose. He didn't say anything at first he just stared at her, like the first time they met. She didn't shy away from his gaze, no longer having to hide. It felt liberating to be Evelyn again, even if Henley was looking wildly at her - something that did not go unnoticed by the Commander, who looked back and forth at their silent conversation. Ignoring his shock, she gave Henley a heartfelt smile of relief at seeing him alive and in one piece. He returned it.
"I take it your name isn't Althea Orianna then?" She just shook her head at his calm countenance. As she opened her mouth to reply, the draining force of a spell purge hit her, making her fall back away from him flat on her back. The Seeker was strong, but so was she. Cassandra didn't silence her completely and instinctually Evelyn's mana surged forth. Her eyes reflected the flame enveloping her as the Phoenix's wings shot out in warning. Before Evelyn could act Cassandra dispelled her magic again, this time with dizzying effect. Flat on her back again she struggled to lift her suddenly heavy limbs. Her vision began to fade, but she fought it listening to the voices above her. She heard Henley, Sorin, Cassandra, Cullen and even Rylen arguing. Sorin and Henley both fiercely defending her against the Seeker's words, while it seemed Cullen and Rylen were meditating. As the Fade claimed her, her final sight was that of the dead rebel leader in a pool of blood. His words haunted her - "our kind" - she seemed to be eradicating mages as if she was a rogue Templar.
"That's not me." Her voice rasped from a faraway place. But what did she mean? Not a rebel? Not a Templar slut? Not "Althea?" Perhaps it was all of those. Who was she then, she thought as she faded quickly. A powerful will asserted itself in one last conscious breath to erase the doubt in her mind. "Ev-Evelyn." All was black.
***
"Fortified watchtowers will need to be built on both sides of the ridges as soon as possible. We cannot afford to be taken by surprise again." Upon arriving back in Haven, Cullen had a lot of work to do to recover their defenses from the attack. Though the enemy had been eliminated, who knows where they came from and how many more were out there. He had already sent out men to collect the dead, which included finding Leliana's agents who should've sent warning ahead to them of the attack. They lost more men than they could afford in the attack and without the intervention of the two Knight-Enchanters they would've all been lost, himself included. He cursed himself for not being better prepared and for not having the men better prepared, but he had only a short amount of time to prepare and certainly didn't think the rebels would react this strongly in opposition to the Conclave.
"Ser, Sister Nightingale says they are ready to wake the prisoner."
"Very good, dismissed. Rylen, can you take over here?" Pleased knowing that work would continue smoothly under Rylen's direction, he made his way to the Chantry jail. Leliana and Cassandra were waiting there with Enchanter Ilara who would administer the lyrium to bring the prisoner around. Usually very pleasant, Ilara seemed to be stewing there tapping her foot angrily. As soon as he joined them, Ilara went to work dripping the lyrium into the prisoner's mouth. The sight of the lyrium made him twitch and he squeezed the pommel of his sword trying to distract himself. She administered it painfully slow, or so it seemed to him, forced to watch the glowing blue liquid drip. Some dribbled off the prisoner's bottom lip making his heart race and face sweat. Cassandra put a hand on his shoulder sensing the change in his countenance.
At last, the prisoner coughed herself awake. Upon waking in a panic she grabbed Ilara's wrists, her magic flaring up again, but Ilara soothed her calmly back down onto the bedroll. She whispered to her as she stroked her hair fondly. Finishing the lyrium with Ilara's audible explanation of where they were and what was happening, the prisoner pushed herself up and they dismissed Ilara. The three stood silent in front of her cell. The door to the cell was open, but the prisoner didn't make a move to leave it. Instead, she sat there leaning back against the stone wall. She still looked weak, but her eyes were alert as she sized them up. Leliana pulled out a letter from her cloak, smoothing it out slightly before reading it aloud.
"Of respectable stature, physically fit as her travels demand finesse, scar across her lower left cheek and bridge of her nose, rich brown hair fading into light blond tips usually worn in a warrior's braid and brown eyes with an unmistakable defiance." Leliana paused to look up at her. "I'm impressed by how well your father described you after your disappearance, with the exception of your braid, of course. Time can sometimes muddle memories of loved ones." The prisoner perked up at the mention of her father, sitting at attention. "So, Lady Trevelyan would you care to explain to us why you are here and why you chose to lie about who you are?" Trevelyan gave an annoyed sigh.
"If you're as good as your reputation claims you to be, Sister Nightingale, then you know the answer to those questions already." Used to the quiet Althea who up until now was mostly seen tending to minor wounds and gathering herbs, the haughtiness of Lady Trevelyan took him by surprise. He had always thought there was something more to her the way she looked at him in particular the few times they crossed paths, but he thought it was because she had an issue with Templars, like most mages. With another heavy sigh and a tone as if they were wasting her time, she continued. "My name is Lady Evelyn Althea Trevelyan, daughter of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick. Knight-Enchanter of the Ostwick Circle of Magi and more popularly known as "The Phoenix." I hid my identity to protect those I care about, nothing more, until I knew how your," she searched for the correct word with a wave of her hand, "organization, for lack of a better term, would react to my presence. The attack today, assuming it's the same day still since you," shooting a glare to Cassandra, "felt it was a good idea to silence me, forced me to act thus revealing my true identity. I'm here because I agreed with my commanding officer, Ser Henley, that the Ostwick Circle should attend the peace talks to connect with the other displaced Circle mages. Does that cover it?" The others made no reaction to her, so he followed their lead.
"Are you guilty of what they accuse you of?" He and Cassandra had little patience for nobles and their sense of entitlement. So when Cassandra jumped straight to the big question, he groaned inwardly knowing Leliana would have led into it with more tact.
"No."
"How do we know that's true? Do you have witnesses?"
"Yes, there are about sixty of them right here in Haven." Cassandra took a step forward looking as if she was going to strike her before he stepped in front of her. "Oh, you thought I was being smart with you! I wasn't, truly every single Ostwick mage and Templar will tell you I fought and bled alongside Ser Henley and his men."
"And what of the deaths of the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander? I suppose you are innocent of that accusation as well?" Trevelyan's expression cooled to a sobering heaviness as her gaze swept to the ground. Cassandra seemed to have hit on some past trauma. He had seen it before in the mages at Kirkwall who had been punished severely under Knight-Commander Meredith; haunting looks, withdrawal from the present, reliving the event in their head.
"I, ah, regret that I couldn't save them. Both were especially kind to me and I owed them much. They didn't deserve their fate." She didn't look up from whatever she was studying on the ground. The three looked to each other suspicious of the sudden change in their prisoner's demeanor. He supposed it was his turn, having dealt with soldiers with trauma, himself included.
"Knight-Enchanter," he said it as if he was about to give her an order and her head snapped up to attention, "I will assume Ser Henley had told you that the Divine requests your help with the Conclave." She was still coming to, giving him a few blinks, but she was able to nod her head. "And will you?"
"I'm a Trevelyan, Commander. Our family has strong ties to the Chantry. I would not refuse a request from the Divine. But," the noble defiance was back in force, "I have a request as well."
"What makes you think you are in the position to request something from Most Holy?" Cassandra's ire was back as well now. Trevelyan opened her mouth to address Cassandra, but she shifted her gaze to Leliana.
"Sister Nightingale, surely a player of The Game sees the devastating error that was made in bringing me down here in front of everyone?" Leliana only smirked slightly, but it was not an amused smirk. He had never seen someone get to Leliana before - granted he had known her for awhile so his trained eye picked up on the incredibly slight break of character - so he wondered what exactly they had done wrong. Politics and The Game were not his areas of expertise.
"Our people were told it was for your protection, no one will question -- "
"But they will thanks to your Seeker here who not only used her abilities on me once but twice in front of your men. Even the Commander here was present and can attest that she had no good reason to go that far. I also heard what was said in my defense and the Seeker's attack on me after I had just saved them all." Andraste preserve them, he thought as now he knew where she was going with this. He knew Cassandra had no right to silence her, but he couldn't undermine her authority in front of the men. "If you think those green soldiers and my Templar friends will stay quiet about my treatment you're fooling yourselves." A slightly dangerous edge entered her voice. He remembered how Ilara looked, and was becoming convinced that she was indeed onto something. Trevelyan was clearly intelligent and could handle herself well enough from what he saw and heard from Rylen, who was now completely smitten with her. "And then you carry me unconscious into the jail of the Chantry. Do you think the mages the Divine hopes to win over will be pleased at my treatment?" He dared not look at his companions, lest Trevelyan catch his uneasiness of being out of his depth. He was used to having things under control, or if not him, one of the other women. Since he had yet to face her ire, he took a chance.
"I think we've heard enough, Knight-Enchanter. Give us your terms, assuming you have some." When her gaze fell on him he stood strong against it, as it starring headlong into a gale.
"Very well, Commander. You will have my full cooperation in exchange for the protection of myself and the Ostwick Circle - mages and Templars. At the conclusion of the Conclave, whatever the outcome may be, you allow us to leave. Those are my terms."
"That's al ---?" Leliana cut him off.
"We accept."