#Valeria looks like she's been possessed by a demon help

[mariagreenwoodart]

Beach nisha bc why not

[welldonekhushi]

Under My Spell | Part 8

Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

Part 8 of Under My Spell!

Note: Never knew I disappeared and left the series like this.. maybe because of, lack of motivation? Idea? Well, now it's back again with another part, woo!

Warnings: A few elements of horror, you've been warned

It seems that you were getting close to the plot, in order to find the root cause of the horror El Charro Negro created around others, and to stop the threat once and for all. The evidence was the only forest which caught your attention after your encounter with the cloaked man, and pleaded Valeria and Rudy to agree with following you. The woman was completely sided with your decision, but Rodolfo was still in denial.

Maybe it could be about his unknown relation with the cloaked man, or feeling the forest being a deadly presence but you wanted to make him believe. For someone, who lived with constant disbelief and tricks, you wanted to help Rudy in guiding a way to the truth. All this time, he too had been chasing the El Charro Negro and had been fed up with all this, just wanting to protect the ones who he adored. They all were betrayed, and haunted to death by Alejandro, being possessed by it. Let it be you, Valeria or Rudy himself, and you were finally determined to stop him once and for all.

But, it was that inside feeling again, as if it was trying to hint that something was wrong. What if the things you see aren't actually true? What if everything was a disbelief and one was trying to make you believe in it? Are you doing this in the correct way?

No. You weren't going to back off this time. If the El Charro Negro really exists, then we'd stop it together. Gripping the necklace tight, you put hope in yourselves and look back at the two. "Valeria. Rudy. I know this seems like a really risky mission. I don't want to do this and make you more concerned. But, I'm here to help you all too. For what I know, the devil is mostly behind me, and I don't know why. Whatever the reason could be, I cannot do this until I have both of your support."

Valeria and Rudy looked at each other, furrowing their eyebrows. "The man talked about this forest? Heh, I think he must be lying.. I don't think this is a good idea, Y/N." He said. "You know it's absolutely dangerous.. I know what lies in this forest and it'll bring more trouble."

"It always wasn't a good idea when we almost landed ourselves into trouble, Rudy. But because we had each other we didn't give up. We'd stay together, and fight. Let it be the El Charro Negro, any other identity."

"Y/N, but I CARE for your safety. I didn't bring you with me just to do all this! You were supposed to stay back, and let us do all the work. You know you're making me regret it again!" Rudy scolded Y/N, and all she could do was to sigh in disappointment, and look at him.

"Rudy, I know you're protecting me but.. I want you to think about something. Were you there before when I saw that demon's presence inside your house? Or maybe around the village? I don't know where you were all that time but I can assure you this isn't just about me. This is also about the people who live there." You replied, protesting at his view. "He's controlling us all. To get what he wants. And I want to stop it."

Rudy closed his eyes in irritation and showed you his back, making you fail to understand his intentions. Valeria looked at the man concernedly, and after a few seconds, he turned back angrily at you. "Fine. If you want to continue your journey, you can. But I'll not be a part of it."

"Rodolfo! You said we'll stop the El Charro Negro together.. t-this isn't fair.." You shook your head.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I tried protecting you from all the danger but it seems you just want to find a way to step into it again. Have fun when the demon consumes you. I'm not going to be a part of it." Rudy stormed away from the forest.

"Rudy! Rodolfo, come back! You're being a coward, jeez!" You groaned, but at the same time, you felt so bad for disagreeing with Rudy to come back. It was making you feel maybe you were doing it all wrong. Your stubborn nature of knowing everything was always what Rudy never liked when he was protecting you all the time. But, you couldn't be silent anymore. You wanted answers.

"Y/N.. I think we should listen to Rudy.. he's not wrong.."

You tried to contemplate your decision, by taking a deep breath, pursing your lips and trying to think to yourself, before facing the other woman. "Valeria. Do you think whatever that cloaked man told us about this place was fake? Heck, if he's trying to help us, we need to believe him. What if we do find a way to stop this chaos from happening in the first place?" You grabbed her hand. "Please, Val.. you're not going to leave me behind. Besides, we've both been victims to El Charro Negro's wrath. And we cannot back off when many people like us would sooner fall into this monster's trap. Tell me, Valeria.. don't you want to be free from any control? Or fear of getting attacked?"

Valeria was absolutely silenced. She had no words to refute your statement, but she did agree on the fact how she almost became a prey in the presence of the El Charro Negro. She wanted this all to stop, and realised now they cannot back off anymore. Clenching your hand tighter, she nods. "I'll not leave you behind, miel. Together, we'll find a clue to this issue."

You smiled. "That's the spirit! Besides, our amulets are here to protect us from the demon." You then furrow your eyebrows and cast your head down. ".. I'm sorry, Rudy.. but I will put an end to this."

You and Valeria then proceed to walk further in the forest, not realising from the far distance, a shadowy figure was spectating you two all this time, like as if it was some sort of horse with it's glowing green eyes, blaring it's nose and walking away.

As you went deeper, the sounds of the forest began to grow eerie and creepier, with the chatters of crickets and small animals from the shadows beginning to fill your ears. You held Valeria's hand tighter, hoping she doesn't get lost in the journey. Gulping, and trying to hold your composure, you gathered the courage to ignore those scary feelings within yourself. Besides, what's more traumatic to be almost hunted two times by a literal demon?

"This place is growing darker, Y/N.. I don't think we can last longer.." Valeria pursed her lips in worry.

"Don't worry. I brought my flashlight." You went into your pocket to grab the item and switched it on to flash the source of light over the dark areas. One hand kept Valeria held, and the other had the flashlight gripped. Two essential things that you couldn't afford to lose in your journey.

"The cloaked man said there must be some source where this all started." You said. "And if we get there, we would be able to s—" Your speech was startled a bit when you heard a crunch. You turned your flashlight to the direction where the sound came but you found nothing. Your eyes squinted in confusion, but soon it grew more when you heard the crunch again, and way louder than the last time.

Valeria's eyes widened and she looked everywhere, trying to find where the sound must be coming from. You soon could hear the bushes rumbling and soon this curiosity converted into fear. "We need to run, Y/N. Right now."

You flash your light towards the rumbling bush, trying to find out who could be in there. Carefully looking at the plant, the tension already rising in the atmosphere. Your hands trembled a bit while holding the flashlight closer to the bush, until you met with a jumpscare when a person just emerged out of the bush, all bloodied and eaten up by some beast, and fell down on the ground, looking lifeless. Valeria shuddered and panicked, her hand covering her mouth and trying not to cry out in horror. Your eyes peeled towards the dead individual who burst out from the bush, with now your ears tingling to another unbeknownst sound behind you.

You turned a bit around, and spectated it with your peripheral vision, the sounds of growling could be heard from the distance. And you could only see a couple of green, glowing dots within the shadows, appearing closer to the flashlight, revealing them to be a pack of wolves, glaring at them hungrily. Valeria's lips trembled and your eyes widened in horror, as you kept yourselves still in one position.

They slowly step their feet towards the two, and you both also back off gently before they could grow anymore closer. The rage in their eyes, and them glaring their sharp teeth at you. You were waiting for the right time to escape from the place, whispering to Valeria.

"Val.. whenever I say.. run. Don't let go of my hand."

Valeria nodded and gulped, the two kept on backing off from the wolves and when you felt it was now the time to retreat, you finally gave the signal, turning off the light, and flashing it at the eyes of the wolves to keep them partly distracted, you cried. "Run!"

Valeria and you then began to run away from the wolves, as they also started to chase you from behind. You kept sure that they weren't any closer, and told to keep their feet running. They were quite a lot faster than your agility but you knew what to do. Closing your eyes, you call out for your amulet as it glows, stopping in between and facing the wolves.

The wolves also stopped their feet once they looked towards amulet. Feeling it'll not be much effective, the wolf without wasting any time, it tried pouncing at the two but you raised your hand and pushed it back with your abilities. The wolf was thrown back in full force, crashing next to the tree and whimpering. The other wolves also did their part but you defended yourselves by using the amulet's force to push them away with your abilities, and it was working. Realising Valeria too had an amulet, and she can also have access to the powers.

"Valeria! Use your amulet!" You cried out loud, and the woman looks down at her amulet, willing to help you too. She also stood beside you, calling the amulet and imagining of using the wind to keep the wolves back. It did, and the dust was enough to shield their eyes. Being too distracted in the windstorm, Valeria found a way to retreat as much as possible, giving the sign and running away with you.

Finding a safer spot after running a bit farther, you two breathe for air, and panted after a long chase. You fell down on your knees and held onto your chest, having a slight panic attack.

"Y/N." Valeria helped you to regain your breaths and calm yourself down after that horrifying moment. "Relax.." She kept a hand on your chest, and other on your back enough to help you relax under her touch and breathed a bit slower. You opened your eyes, and looked at Valeria, with sweat on your forehead.

".. are you okay?" You asked.

"I'm alright. Are you?" Valeria replied, still rubbing your back. "You look terrified.."

"I'm okay.. thank you.." You nodded, giving her a weak smile before getting up on your legs, setting your clothes and wiping the sweat off your face.

"I don't think we can go back like this.." Valeria looks around the forest. "We've come too far. And it seems we might have lost track after our chase with those wolves. We don't even have a map, because no one ever dared to step foot in this place, knowing the infinite dangers that lie within this area."

".. so.. no one went beyond here?"

"How would they? They were more likely afraid of hoping the demon wouldn't take their souls."

You were lost in a few thoughts after what Valeria said, knowing about the mysteries that no one knows about this forest. While you reminisce about them all, you didn't notice your amulet glowing bright.

Valeria noticed and tried to call you out. "Y/N, your amulet!"

You came back to reality and paid attention to the necklace that grew bright green in the dark. Probably it's purpose was to automatically give you a signal about the El Charro Negro's presence, but this time.. it gave you a feeling that.. you were close. Close to know the truth. It even positioned itself in the direction, as if the magic in it was now acting as a map for your guide. You both were surprised, about this sudden act by the amulet, bringing a ray of hope.

"The amulet.. i-it feels like it's living, and it knows what's beyond this veil!" You said.

"You serious..? Are you sure the amulet would take us where we want to?" Valeria asked.

"This amulet has protected us in our hard times.. so also, it'll help us reach our destination as well." You smiled, while the amulet pulled itself again, telling you to walk forward.

"We need to get going." You gave the nod, and Valeria agreed, while following the amulet. The journey was peaceful, and you cannot sense any trouble anymore. The destination seemed a bit closer, and you could feel your hopes rising. That moment finally arrived.. the darkness was slowly disappearing, and when the surroundings were growing more clearer, it all started to look a bit more familiar. Like you saw this place before.

Your eyes furrowed when it all started to piece in your mind. The flashbacks hit, hearing the strums of guitar ringing in your head. You stopped and widened your eyes in shock, much to Valeria's concern.

"Miel? Are you alright?"

".. this place.. i-it's like I know it before."

"You do?" She furrows her eyebrows, but you don't say anything and keep your feet running forward.

"Y/N, hey! Slow down!" Valeria called onto you but now everything was slowly coming to a reveal when you run a bit further and stop at the exact location where.. Alejandro was killed. By the hands of Rudy. To save your life.

And in that same location, you saw a large cave.. where the amulet directly pointed at as well. It was signalling the two to go inside it, but in surprise, the sounds of growling could be heard once more, that you back off in defense. The same wolves, that were tackling you before, erupted from the bushes, and tried covering your escape paths. You two were bound by the beasts, and being ready to attack, until the wolves whimpered and flopped their ears, bowing down gently as they back off and slowly found an opportunity to run away. It confused you and Valeria on the fact that what could have pushed them back in fear?

Only if you turn around to see who it actually was..

[owibitmylip]

Certainty

Meredith centered fic posted also on AO3!

Relationships: Meredith Stannard/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Meredith Stannard, Cullen Rutherford, Varric Tethras, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Lyrium Addiction, Red Lyrium, Slight body horror, Jacked Meredith, POV Meredith, Meredith’s super fucked up perception of things, Adrastianism

Chapter 2: The Second Chance

Ferelden was much as Meredith remembered it. She had never particularly cared for it, though she had been stationed there for a very short spell before becoming Knight Captain. Wentworth had still been alive then, so had Guylian, and that bastard Threnhold. Meredith had only really respected one of the three. Wentworth had looked after her when she was a girl, he had taught her, helped her along. He had given her his greatsword when his time was coming to an end.

Meredith had thrown down her sword and taken up his, and then years later she had thrown his down and taken up Certainty.

She would have liked to keep Wentworth’s sword, but she could not remember for the life of her where she had stowed it. Surely she hadn’t sold it? Meredith was… Pretty sure that even in her red lyrium addled state she would have had the presence of mind to not sell one of her most prized possessions. But she had not had time to look for it, and so she would just have to use her new - still unnamed - blade.

Meredith would admit that, for all she disliked having to leave Kirkwall, she had something of a soft spot for certain parts of Ferelden, and even a small swath of Orlais. Orlais was where she had first met Byron, though admittedly that had not been a particularly good time for her. He was an apostate she was sent to hunt down, her Ferelden Knight Commander evidently not having faith in the Orlesian Templars to get the job done. She had hunted him through Emprise du Lion and into the Emerald Graves before she had caught up, and then she took an arrow to the side from a wayward bandit. Meredith had truly believed that it was the end for her, and she lamented that she would never see Kirkwall again, or return triumphant to Valeria, or achieve her privately held goal of trying to convince Valeria to transfer to Kirkwall - she had never particularly liked Guylian, and she thought that Valeria would do a much better job of governing the Gallows. Kirkwall could really use a woman like her, Kirkwall needed a woman like her.

But then, while her vision waned and her breathes grew shallow, the apostate she had been about to detain moments before she was shot leaned down over her, and she felt something cold blossom in her side.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” He’d asked.

“V-al-er-a-” Meredith had croaked.

“Not a number, good Knight.”

That felt like it had happened in another life, to a different Meredith. Perhaps it had.

It was in Orlais, too, that Meredith had met the other mage. This one had set her more on edge than Byron had. He’d never struck her as much of a threat to anyone, and finding him was more a matter of duty than the sincere belief he would hurt someone if he was allowed to live outside a Circle. When they were younger, Byron had struck her as being a little too… Bumbling, to do much damage. She wasn’t sure there was a demon that’d make a deal with him back then even if he’d tried. The other mage had been the polar opposite. She’d set Meredith’s teeth on edge from the moment they’d met. There was something about her, her bearing, a certain look in her eye, that told Meredith she would have to be very wary.

Meredith had been young, though, and the mage had reminded her of Valeria in a way. They had the same air about them, they were both something dangerous, and they were both something that intrigued Meredith, that drew her in.

In what was not actually the worst decision of her life, Meredith allowed that mage to remain alive and free. Perhaps she had not been thinking wholly with her head when she made that choice. But then the mage died, a mistake of her own, and Meredith could go back to Valeria with the news that the apostate was dead. Meredith had also gone back to Valeria with a small piece of herself missing, something she had left in the Emerald Graves, something she expected she would never get back. That mage had taken a lot from Meredith, more than she had ever intended to.

It was shortly after that that Meredith returned to Kirkwall, alone. Valeria refused to leave her post, telling Meredith that Ferelden needed her. She would not abandon her homeland, and that was something that Meredith could understand. Just like Ferelden needed Valeria, Kirkwall needed Meredith. Wentworth was… Unwell, and Guylian was a fool. He was too lax, too willing to look the other way when mages bent the rules. He would not last, sooner or later something avoidable was going to put an end to him. Meredith had been right about that, and in the wake of Threnhold’s treachery, Meredith gladly accepted the role of Knight Commander. She and Dumar ascended around the same time, and she was sure to make it clear to him where things stood.

His fate need not be yours.

But Dumar, too, had been a fool in the end. He wasn’t good enough. He had been too slow in dealing with the Qunari, and all of Kirkwall had paid for it. He had paid for it. Meredith had lost Templars that night, had lost a few mages, too. That was a night that made Meredith almost glad that the mage had not come back to Kirkwall with her, because she was not sure she would have been able to keep the woman from running directly into danger.

The mage had always had a strange sense of valour. She got it from her father, Meredith thought, who had been a Chevalier. The damnable woman had cause more than a few problems for herself and for Meredith in their short time together, never knowing when to keep out of things. At first, Meredith had thought her courage and sense of honour to be admirable, but it had not been long before the woman had proved herself to be little different from any other mage. She had, at the very least, made quite the impression. Meredith would not soon forget her.

*

“We must go, now. Quickly. If they see you, they’ll-”

“No, Merri, I cannot just stand by. We have to do something!” There was a fire in the woman's eyes, something that might have frightened Meredith.

*

The journey South from the Storm Coast, a wretched place that Meredith had to admit she loved dearly - courtesy of the only assignment she ever accompanied Valeria for having been on the coast - was arduous. Meredith was still aching, still tired, still not even close to her full strength. Horses had at least been easy to obtain, which meant Meredith would not have the burden of carrying her sword all the way down to Haven.

She and Byron made relatively good time, though none of the towns they passed through had a blacksmith that Meredith believed could craft suitable metal armor. Byron promised that the Inquisition would have a good smith, and Meredith sincerely hoped he was right. She felt like she might as well just walk around in trousers and a shirt, for all the good leather armor was going to do her.

Byron had estimated it would be about a three or four day ride to Haven, though Meredith expected he was trying to be generous in case her condition slowed them down. In total it took about three days, with Haven coming into sight as the Ferelden sun set on them for the third time. The little place was nice enough, from a distance. It was not what Meredith had expected of Inquisition headquarters, but she supposed she ought to cut them some slack given how new the organisation was. Perhaps they were in the process of acquiring better holdings. She elected to reserve her judgement until they could see the place up close.

Meredith wondered if there were going to be any Templars present that she had known, or if all of them had gone to Therinfal. She fully intended to question this supposed “Herald of Andrastae” about what information they may have about the state of the order. Meredith had her own suspicions, but thus far they were totally baseless, and she was putting effort in to not jump to conclusions. If she had a sickening feeling in her gut, if she felt like she could occasionally hear the hum of the red stuff, well then, maybe she was just imaging it. Had she not just recently been released from her own red lyrium prison? Such a thing probably left a lasting mark on a person.

She supposed the best thing she could do at the moment would be to trust Byron, to try to trust this Inquisiton - if she couldn’t trust the Herald, perhaps she could at least trust their Commander, and the hands of the late Divine. Although Meredith had to admit it, just to herself at least, that she was extremely skeptical about the whole “Herald of Andrastae” business. Why would Andrastae choose some random mage woman, when there were so many others utterly devoted to her? When the hands of the Divine had been right there, when plenty of intelligent and capable Chantry sisters were right there, when Meredith was right there? Could it not just have been a demon trying to trick the Herald? 

Meredith tried to quiet her thoughts. It would do absolutely no good to stew about why she was not the chosen one of the Maker when she had no evidence yet that this Herald even really was. Perhaps sending Byron to rescue her was the Maker’s way of giving her new purpose, anyway. Perhaps this was a holy purpose. That was what she had to tell herself, or else she would begin to feel dreadfully bleak. If she believed that the Maker had turned his back on her, that Andrastae had turned her back on her, then Meredith verily had no purpose.

Haven loomed, so much as such a tiny place can loom, in front of them as they approach the gates. Or perhaps Meredith just got the sensation that it was looming because she was nervous about what lay inside. A ways ahead she heard a familiar voice calling out to recruits.

“You have a shield in your hand, block with it!” He shouted. Meredith had said something similar a thousand times, and so had Guylian and Valeria before her. She glanced over at her former Knight Captain, no longer clad in his templar armor, holding a shield and trying to make a boy who could not have been a day over 17 understand how to position it. It was bizarre to see him like that, to see him as such… As not a Templar. But he was there, he was alive, he was continuing to serve, and as far as Meredith was concerned, he was still serving a divine purpose.

She briefly wondered if he still had the small dagger she had given him - another Tranquil crafted thing - when she had made him Knight Captain. It had been a short blade with a serrated edge, and she’d given it to him because Meredith sincerely believed he was going to be great, and with greatness comes an increased number of people who want to kill you. She thought it would be good for him to have a smaller, concealable weapon, and one that could do substantial damage in an instant, if need be. After everything that had happened in Kirkwall, she wouldn’t blame him if he’d gotten rid of it, but some part of her hoped that he’d keep it. When he had first arrived in Kirkwall, she’d seen something of herself in him, and she had tried to be for him what Valeria and Wentworth had been for her.

She had failed, quite spectacularly. She had led him down a dark, paranoid, volatile path, and he was lucky to have left it when he did. Perhaps in placing them both here, the Maker was giving her a second chance to do right by Cullen as well.

“Hold there,” one of the two guards stationed outside the gate called to them, and they eased their horses to a stop. “What’s your business?”

“We’ve come to join up,” Byron said. “We’d like to lend a hand getting that closed.” He pointed over his shoulder at the now very visible massive green hole in the sky. “Thought you know, more hands make less work. Or rather, more hands make it a little bit easier to deal with demons all over the place. I’ve already got a couple of friends here, they should have arrived yesterday, or the day before. Rowen and Scilla, I believe.”

“Right then, we’ll be glad to have you. What’s your name, Serah?” Ah, the man was a Marcher then. Meredith allowed herself a small smile. Based on the accent, she would have guessed he was from Ostwick.

“Byron, Serah. I hail from Orlais.”

“A pleasure,” The guard gave a shallow bow. “And what’s your friend’s name?” The guardsman asked, glancing over at Meredith, then at Meredith’s sword where it was strapped to the side of her saddle, then back to Byron.

Before Byron could choose one for her, Meredith cut in. “Valeria,” she said. “Of Ostwick.”

The guard smiled up at her. “I hail from Ostwick as well. Welcome.” Another bow. “The stables are there, town’s too crowded already to let horses through the gates. The Quartermaster, Threnn, will tell you where you can lay down your things. You can probably find her up by the Chantry.”

“Many thanks, Messere,” Meredith said with an incline of her head, and urged her horse - a massive, dark coloured beast - over towards the stables.

*

Valeria had looked down at her, brushed a hand softly over Meredith’s cheek. “Kirkwall needs you.” Softly down her golden hair, gently down to the side of her neck. “Ferelden needs me.”

Meredith couldn’t argue, she could never bring herself to argue with Valeria. She trusted always that the decisions the Knight Commander made were for the best.

“I will see you again, Meredith. If not in this life, then in the next.”

It was then that Meredith decided if Kirkwall could not have Valeria, they would have a woman very much like her.

*

Meredith had a moment to regret the name she gave herself as she and Byron strode through the gates and into Haven. Was she really worthy to carry Valeria’s name? Had she even come close to earning such an honor?

She did not look in Cullen’s direction, but rather kept her eye out for anybody else she might recognise. It did not take long before she was looking a certain dwarf square in the face as she came up the steps. Varric Tethras, a particularly vexing man, stood by a fire talking to somebody that Meredith did not recognise. Not Hawke, at least. Though Tethras’ presence may prove problematic. Between him and Cullen, the likelihood that someone would recognise here was much higher than she would have liked. She kept her hood up, and tried not to look like a Templar as she and Byron passed by Varric. The dwarf glanced briefly at her as the passed and did a double-take. He stared at her, but she had already gone by, so all he had to see was her back and the blade leaning against her shoulder.

Meredith thought something impolite, and kept walking. She expected to get a visit from… Somebody, later, be it Tethras himself or somebody else sent to take a better look at her. Varric had been a thorn in her side for long enough that she felt she had a decent idea of who he was - tenacious, irritating, foolish, she could go on.

It was relatively straightforward to find Threnn, as she was in the middle of a rather strict conversation with somebody about preparations for more snow when Meredith and Byron arrived by the Chantry. Byron gave Meredith a light pat on the shoulder and said he would do the talking. Meredith still sounded like a Knight Commander when she spoke. Byron insisted it was the tone and word choice, not to mention the distinct Marcher accent, that did it. She was too used to everybody she spoke to being either her subordinate or the Grand Cleric, she was too formal, too demanding, too firm to sound like a regular person. She had the bearing of the soldier, the demeanor of an officer, and the countenance of a Templar.

She glanced around while Byron spoke with the Quartermaster, who seemed only slightly less irritated by him than she had by her subordinate. Haven’s Chantry was small, but it would serve well enough. A Chantry did not need to be extravagant, and indeed sometimes Meredith thought they could get a little too decadent. She preferred the more subdued, the more humble structures. This small building, about as subdued and humble as they came, very much appealed to her.

“Pardon me,” came a meek voice from behind Meredith. She turned, looking the slight Elven girl over. “I was sent to ask after your name, Madame.” She girl looked up at Meredith with wide eyes. “A-and where you’ve come from.”

“Valeria, of Ostwick,” Meredith said with a small incline of her head. “And what is your name?”

“My-?” Confusion clouded the girl’s expression for a moment before she gathered herself enough to squeak “Aeris.”

“Where have you come from, Aeris?” If Meredith sounded like she was interrogating the girl a little, she didn’t mean to. She was, as she was so helpufully informed by Byron, just like that.

“Near Denerim, Madame.”

“Have you come all this way alone to join the Inquisition?”

“No, Madame, my sister is here with me. We… It isn’t much but we do what we can.”

“I am sure you do more than you think.”

“That is very kind of you, Ma-”

“You are welcome to call me Valeria.” Meredith was not usually in the habit of letting anybody call her just by her name without a title attached, she’d worked damned hard for her titles. But ‘Valeria’ was a title more than it was a name, the woman so thoroughly mythologized in Meredith’s mind that she was barely remembered as a human being rather than a goddess of justice - no, of balance.

*

“There is a give and take to everything, Meredith,” Valeria had told her, a hand resting on her shoulder as they had overseen the making of a new Tranquil. Rarely now did Valeria administer the rite herself, not now that she had more important things to focus on. “There must be, so the world can remain balanced. Magic, it is given. But magic freely given is unbalanced, so we are placed here to take it. We restore, where magic destroys.”

*

“Valeria,” Aeris corrected herself. She bowed to Meredith, her hands clasped behind her back. When she straightened up Meredith noted how close the girl’s posture was to parade rest. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Aeris turned and hurried away, back down the steps to report to whoever had sent her - Varric, Meredith assumed. She doubted Cullen would send a servant girl to ask after her, she would like to think she brought him up well enough that he’d have the courage to ask himself.

She watched Aeris walk away, the girl’s posture rigid and he hands clasped at her back. Meredith could not help but see potential in the girl. She clearly already had a workable sense of discipline. The image of the girl in light armor, with a set of twin blades in her hands popped into Meredith’s mind, and she wondered for a moment. Was this girl, too, part of the Maker’s plan for her? Or would her path diverge from Aeris, before she had the chance to craft the girl into something great? Something more than a servant, sent to ask after people’s names by someone too cowardly to go themselves.

If she was meant to bring the girl up into something better, then their paths could surely cross again. Meredith gave herself a small nod. If it was the Maker’s will, then it would happen. She would do what she had always done before, go where she was sent, and do as she was bid.

“Merri-dith,” Byron appeared beside her again. “Ready? We really should be hurrying along. There is an extra tent the kind Quartermaster said we can share. I am sorry in advance for however many times I wake you up, and also, curse you in advance, for however many times you wake me up.”

Meredith barked a laugh. “The feeling is mutual. Come, show me to it.”

She followed Byron back down through Haven and once again out the gate. A quick glance revealed that Varric was no longer standing where he had been when they’d first arrived - for the best, Meredith decided. She did not want him questioning her, as she was confident that he and Cullen would recognise her in an instant. Perhaps she should cut her hair, although that would do little to disguise her face. Perhaps she could get a tattoo over her good eye, or on her cheek or something? She had met a Knight Captain from Starkhaven once who’d had tattoos on his face. Meredith had disliked the look of it, though, and decided that tattooing her face would be a last-resort thing. If Hawke showed up, only then she would get a tattoo.

“Merri-dith, you’re a thousand miles away,” Byron said in a sing-song tone. Meredith blinked, looking over at her friend. They stood in front of an empty tent with the flaps drawn back. It was small, much smaller than their cabin on the ship had been.

“I suppose I am.”

“What did that Elf girl want from you, earlier by the Chantry?” Byron tilted his head to the side, and Meredith thought it made him look like a confused bird.

“She asked after my name, and where I’ve come from. I suspect she was sent by someone I knew in Kirkwall, Varric Tethras.”

“You knew him? The- he wrote those books, the romance ones, have you ever-”

“No, Byron, I have not read his romance novels.”

“You’re missing out, Merri-dith, they’re very entertaining.”

Meredith rolled her eyes and laid her sword down inside the tent. From the looks of how it, she was a little worried that Byron’s feet were going to stick out at night. But he had a tendency to work himself up into uncomfortable looking bundles as he slept, so he would probably be alright. Meredith resolved to get ahold of a second tent for herself, so that they both would be able to sleep with some relative peace.

“I shall take your word for it. I doubt I would find it enjoyable.” If she were talking to anybody else, she’d have outright called the books drivel. But given Byron had sprung her from her lyrium prison just a couple weeks ago, she thought she would cut him a little slack when it came to his inferior taste in literature.

“You’re no fun, my friend, absolutely none. Do they train the fun out of you in the Templars? Come to think of it, I have never met a single one of you that had a sense of whimsy.”

“Whimsy is frowned upon by the Order, yes.”

“I knew it. Plain inhumane. Even Templars need to kick back and relax once in a while.”

“No, we really don’t. At least, we are not supposed to.” Meredith frowned. “If Templars ever relaxed, mages less honest and capable than yourself would run amok.”

“Merri-dith, there are fewer mages like that than you think there are,” Byron said, as gently as he could. It was not the first time he’d said something like that to her, but Meredith did not believe it any more than she had before. Her experience had showed her what mages could be like, what they would be like if left unsupervised. It was not something she could abide by.

Meredith shook her head, glancing down at the still-nameless sword. Sorrowfully, as she had once spoken to Orsino about something similar, Meredith said “No, no I do not believe there are.”

*

Valeria’s words echoed in her head as Meredith sat slumped in her desk chair, a glass of whiskey in her hand. She looked over at her armor, resting on the rack, waiting for her.

“You must not falter,” Valeria had told her. “You must stand strong, even when all others would shrink away from the responsibility. You must be firm, you must not second guess yourself.”

Meredith sipped the whiskey and glanced down at her thigh, covered in bandages after taking a hit from a Qunari spear. She was lucky to still have her leg.

“You must do what no one else has the courage, the resolve to do, Meredith,” Valeria had told her, back when she was still a newly minted Knight. “That is our purpose, that is why the Maker put us here. To do what must be done, no matter the cost. And sometimes that is unpleasant, but know that you are fighting for a righteous cause, a merciful cause, a just cause. Do not forget that.”

It was then that she decided she must do something more, and thus, Certainty was born.

*

The night was dark, and full of sounds one never heard in Kirkwall. Chirps, growls, twigs snapping and leaves rustling in the pitch black outside the flaps, the howl and beat of wind against the side of the tent. Meredith laid in the tent, staring at the wall closest to her. She could feel Byron at her back, already sound asleep, snoring quietly and mercifully not wriggling around yet.

Meredith had been laying that way for what felt like ages, unable to fall asleep despite feeling dead tired. It wasn’t the first time she’d been struck with a bout of insomnia, but it was certainly vexing. Laying there, however, she knew would do her no good. Carefully, as not to disturb her sleeping friend, Meredith crawled out of the tent, pausing to pull her boots on and to pick up her cloak once she reached the entrance.

She emerged quietly into the chill night air, making sure the tent flaps were pulled to behind her.

As Meredith strode down the road past the stables, the dirt crunching softly beneath her boots, she heard a door creak open and close as quietly as an old door could. She did not stop walking, assuming it was simply the smith - a man Meredith meant to have a word with come the morning. She had high expectations, and she sincerely hoped the man - Harritt, she believed his name was - was going to be as talented as Byron promised.

Meredith noted a few hurried footsteps on the road behind her. “Valeria,” a familiar voice called out her newly adopted title.

“Aeris,” Meredith hummed, finally coming to a stop. She turned around and looked down at the lanky girl before her. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as a sense of vindication settled on her.

If our paths are meant to cross, then they will. And here they were.

“Might I walk with you,” Aeris asked.

Meredith nodded. “Of course.”

The girl took a few long strides to catch up to Meredith, and easily matched her leisurely pace. She was not as tall as Meredith, but she was slender, and it looked as though she had not yet grown into her limbs. The cloak she wore was a little too big, and dragged on the ground as she walked. Her long, dark hair was tied in a braid similar to Meredith’s, which hung down over her shoulder, and her face was covered with the beautiful lines of Vallaslin that looked like thorned vines.

Meredith’s eyes lingered for a moment on the girl’s Vallaslin, smooth lines which seemed to writhe in the moonlight.

“What do they mean,” Meredith asked after a few moments of silence had passed between them. “Your tattoos? If I may ask.” She was vaguely aware that Vallaslin had meaning, though she had not a clue what it was. Meredith had met very few elves in her time that both wore it and were willing to have a civil conversation with her, most of her interactions with the Dalish had been an altercation with a Dalish mage. A brief shudder ran up her back as the recalled the Dalish woman that had galavanted around with Hawke - blood magic, Meredith had suspected, though at the time she felt there was precious little she could do about it. She could only hope now that the girl had not harmed anyone, if indeed she was using forbidden magic.

“They’re for Elgar’nan,” Aeris said. “He’s the god of vengeance, and the sun,” she continued, absently bringing a hand up to trace a line that ran across her skin.

Retribution, the light of the Maker, Meredith thought. Like she had once seen part of herself in her former Knight Captain, Meredith wondered if there might be a part of her in this young Dalish girl, as well.

“They are beautiful. If I may, how old were you when you got them?”

“When I was fifteen. It’s when you ‘come of age’, that you’re supposed to get them.” Meredith thought she might have detected a note of bitterness in Aeris’ tone, similar again to the pain, the anger, the fear she had once heard in Cullen’s voice. It was part of the reason that she had chosen him as her Knight Captain. She’d stoked the flames of his resentment, his fear, and she had used it to make him into what she’d thought was the perfect Templar.

Meredith would not repeat her past mistake with this one. If Aeris was indeed put here for her to teach, then Meredith would make sure she did it right this time. And perhaps, if she was very lucky, the Maker might grant her the chance to make up for her past failure and repay Cullen, as well. She was not quite so hopeful for that, but if the opportunity presented itself, she would not turn it away.

“A little young to be considered ‘of age,’ is it not?” Meredith glanced at the girl out of the corner of her eye.

Aeris shrugged, the tension in her shoulders was visible. “It depends on.. Things. My sister got hers when she was eighteen. I…” She trailed off, staring at the ground as she sauntered along for a few moments. Meredith hung on her every word. “Mine were earlier because I had to grow up a little faster than she did.”

Meredith did not pry. She trusted that the girl would keep talking of her own volition, but worried that if she tried to glean anything specific, she might scare her off.

“My… I had two brothers, too. They were both older than me. And there were my parents. One of my brothers… Disappeared one day, he was supposed to be out hunting, and he didn’t come back. My parents assumed the worst, but I was trying to.. To stay hopeful. We never found him, not really.” She paused a moment, gathering herself. Meredith waited as patiently as she could. “What we found was his bow, and some blood, and a finger.”

When the girl quieted again, Meredith murmured a low, gentle “I’m sorry,” though it seemed to go unheard.

“Nobody told me what had happened to him until my other brother and father had already gone out to do something about it. Blood magic, my mother told me. He’d been abducted and used in some… To summon some creature. My brother and father were going to try to find the bastard who did it. My family didn’t much trust the Templars in Denerim, and back then neither did I. We had mages in the tribe, and we didn’t want to risk them getting dragged away to a Circle. We’d never see them again.

“So we were going to handle it ourselves, exact revenge and all that. Get justice.” Aeris’s voice had grown shakey, though not with sorrow, Meredith noted, with rage. “Neither of them came back. I don’t know if it was the same damned mage who killed the two of them, too, but I don’t know who else it would have been.

“And so it was just me, my sister, and my mother. We had the rest of the tribe, we mourned, we packed up and moved to a different spot, trying to leave all of that pain behind us. I thought of going to the Templars myself, just because I didn’t want the bastard to get away with what he’d done, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to put the rest of the tribe in danger. I just… I couldn’t. Not after everything we’d gone through, not after everything, everyone we’d lost.”

It saddened Meredith deeply to see someone so horribly disillusioned with the Templars that she would let a blood mage escape instead of asking the Order for help.

“My mother started hunting too, to make up for my father and brother’s not being there to help with it anymore. She was always good with a bow, but she didn’t like killing animals. I guess I understood it, but I thought… You know, someone had to do it. I wasn’t allowed to, though, because I was still a child. Well, one day, bad weather hit, and.. It was an accident, my mother, she wasn’t like the other ones. But it hurt us, still, we… Everybody missed her. And losing four people in just a few months hurt us, too. We didn’t have enough hunters, and my sister couldn’t help. She’s never had much skill with a weapon. She stayed in the camp, usually, and sometimes if we needed something she couldn’t make, she’d venture into the city for us. So, I asked the Keeper, and I got my Vallaslin, and I learned how to shoot a bow and how to gut an animal. It was for them - my family, everything has been. I..” Her voice broke, frustration crept into her tone and her hands clenched into painfully tight fists. Meredith could practically feel the pain, the anger, the pure, unadulterated rage radiating off the girl.

“My sister and I came here together. She wants to do something for the good of the world, and I… I don’t know. I want it to be about justice.”

“There is more to it than that, isn’t there?” Meredith glanced down at her again. The girl’s gaze was firmly locked on a point far ahead of her. Her meagre muscles tense and her expression stony, though there was a fire in her eyes that Meredith couldn’t help but admire.

Aeris gestured to her Vallaslin. “Yes. I…” She trailed off for a moment again, her expression briefly softening, but then quickly returning to it’s hardened state. “I want him to pay, the one that killed my brothers and my father. I don’t know how, or where he is, or even what his name is, but if I ever find him…”

Meredith couldn’t help it, she grinned. She would not make any mistakes this time. She’d help this girl, she’d teach her, she’d craft Aeris into something to be feared, something to be respected. There were lessons the girl needed to learn, surely skills that needed to be honed, and Meredith could help with that. She would succeed with this girl where she had failed with Cullen. His skill left nothing to be desired, he was decisive, he was ruthless when he needed to be, but Meredith had made a fatal mistake. She’d encouraged him to let his hatred and fear consume him, to let that be his sole motivator. It had done him no good, indeed Meredith thought it had only hurt him more. She had seen him, broken down, in pain that he couldn’t handle when he’d first arrived in Kirkwall, and all she’d really seen was something that could be rebuilt into the perfect soldier.

She would not make Aeris a soldier, no, she would make Aeris into a weapon. The girl could learn to harness her anger without letting it control her, and Meredith would be the one to help her along.

“I am very sorry for all you’ve been through, Aeris. But I believe you will do incredible good here.”

“Thank you.” The girl glanced up at Meredith. “Might I ask you something now? Just so we’re even.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think your name is really Valeria, and I don’t think you’re really from Ostwick.” Perceptive, good. “So what’s your real name, and where are you really from?”

The wolfish grin Meredith had managed to subdue once again overtook her expression. “You will keep it a secret? So far as anyone else is concerned, I am Valeria from Ostwick, yes?”

Aeris nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. In that case, I am from Kirkwall,” the former Knight Commander looked up at the sky, once again marvelling at the beauty of it. “And my name is Meredith.”

*

Cullen came looking for Varric that night, walking up to the gates the moment that Varric himself hurried out of them. Surely the woman he’d seen earlier could not have actually been Meredith, there was no way. Meredith was dead, he was there. She was bones encased in red lyrium.

But still… The tall, muscled woman carrying a sword that most of Cullen’s men couldn’t wield if their lives depended on it… She had looked so much like Meredith. And just as Cullen recalled very clearly taking a nasty hit to the face, leaving him with the small scar on his upper lip, he recalled Meredith taking an even nastier one to her eye. He could not, however, remember if it had been his sword or somebody else’s, or perhaps Hawke had hit her with his staff? Parts of that fight were something of a blur to him, but he was confident that had she survived the fight, Meredith would have walked away with just one eye.

“Curly!” Varric exclaimed before Cullen could get a word in. “Did you see her?”

Cullen nodded. “I think I did. It… It couldn’t be. Right?”

“Right,” Varric said, nodding as well. “There’s no way it’s Meredith.”

“Right,” Cullen agreed. “Meredith is dead.”

“Meredith is dead,” Varric echoed. “There’s absolutely no way it’s her.”

“Right,” Cullen said.

“Right,” Varric agreed. Both men were trying to convince themselves more than they were trying to reassure each other. Meredith was dead, they had been there for it.

Although… Stranger things have happened, Cullen thought, glancing away from Varric and absently touching the scar on his lip. After all, are we not gathered here to try and close a demon-spitting hole in the sky?

*

The mage had looked over at her, all dark eyes and languid movements. Meredith’s breath hitched. “You should leave, Templar, if you know what’s good for you.” The woman’s Orlesian accent softened her otherwise threatening tone.

“I don’t,” Meredith had said, lowering her sword. “I don’t think I know what’s good for me.”

The mage grinned - a sharp, almost predatory expression. Meredith felt like a Halla being circled by a hungry wolf, the only time in her life she’d ever felt that way.

“I had hoped you would say that.”

[dungeonsdragonsandnerds]

Session Update 8/10

After leaving the city of Hallstat, the party was reachable again. Aura reached out to Ulysses and he was able to give her the following information: 

A letter from the Red Keep had come for the party, written across the front, open immediately. From the letter we learned

1. High King Otto is dead

2. There is reason to believe that he is dead (this is classified information and sharing this with anyone else is considered treason)

3. Credible security threats have been posed to all of the prince and princess electors 

4. Despite this, the elector tribunal and coronation of the next High Monarch will take place next week 

5. The party has been called upon (see also: voluntold) to act as the Empress-Queen’s security detail (this is largely due to the fact that despite her counsel informing her that attending these events poses great risk to her safety, Valeria feels it is her duty to attend and will not be swayed) 

With this new information the party begins to cut through the dark forest, desperately trying to get to the Red Keep as quickly as possible. The sound of large flapping wings can be heard overhead, getting closer and closer as the party proceeds. After a short time the flapping is so loud the party dives off the foot path into the shadows and begins to look around.  

As the wings descend, a large male figure comes into view, his dark skin, golden eyes, and flowing white robes, coupled with enormous wings. He stops on the path and begins to scan the area, Heinrich steps forward as the figure calls out “I come for Turnuroth” The man introduces himself as Behar, this of course signaling to Maeve that this is the same angel that presented himself to Lydia, one of the Paragon’s exemplars. 

Quickly casting message to inform Heinrich of this situation, Maeve slowly comes out from the trees and announces herself. Behar comes over to Maeve and begins to communicate with her telepathically. 

He informs her that for the past two days she was being stalked by a demon that she owed a blood debt to, intending to assasinate her and the party in the very forest where we stood now. This one in particular was slain by Behar though there will, inevitably, be others that try.   

While safely making camp thanks to Ot’s spell, Tiny Hut, Aura draws another card from the Deck of Many Things:  

1. The Hanged Man: Aura immediately gains a level (putting her at level 7) but is compelled by the card to draw again 

2. Justice: This card changes her alignment from Chaotic Good to Neutral Good. The Hanged Man compels her to draw again 

3. The Queen of Pentacles: This card causes one magic item to disintegrate. Aura is now broom-less and rides a horse like the rest us. (Note: this card often causes all magic items a player is in possession of to disintegrate but our DM is benevolent) 

The party gets back on the road and when we arrive at Echo Outpost there has been no positive change, Heinrich informs Epistaxis that we’ve returned with the supplies he requested and that Solana took them inside to the supply warehouse. 

With no time to lose the party begins to make their way to the Red Keep, not too far into these travels we come across overturned carts that are smoking on the road ahead of us. As we drew nearer we saw Sivasian Militia men engaged in battle with several cloaked casters. 

Maeve attempts to assess the situation but the rest of the party launches into battle, attacking the cloaked figures. Maeve takes issue with this but helps her party anyways. 

As combat proceeds it quickly becomes clear that these cloaked figures are vampires, one of them successfully charms Heinrich and latches on to his neck. She calls out “Lord Cain compels you” and this is the last the party hears her say as she begins to communicate with Heinrich telepathically. 

The party manages to take out the remaining vampires (one of them got away) and free Heinrich. After asking the remaining guards what the vampires were after, we learn they were transporting a highly magical artifact. Maeve casts identify and we learn: 

Talisman of Pure Good 

An ancient relic used by Clerics and Paladins, this talisman served no god. 

- requires attunment - +2 to damage dealt while holding it  - has 7 charges - When attacked, neutral creatures take 6d6 damage and evil creatures take 8d6 damage per round.  - if its target is evil, a flaming fissure opens below the creature forcing it to make a DC 20 DEX save or fall in and be destroyed, leaving no remains or traces of existence - when the last charge is used, the talisman explodes into golden light and is destroyed

This is where we ended our session, though we are very close to the Red Keep.  Introducing: Sivasia’s newest Security Detail 

[yaoimila]

The Dark Prince Yaoi Web Comic

The Dark Prince Yaoi Webcomic. Come to http://yaoimila.com for navigation buttons.

Possession 1

The demon possessed man Jonah has fallen under the dark authority of Priest Sabaste, patron of the four gods of Rainor.  Sabaste crosses boundaries that no priest should, forcing Jonah to confront the vulnerability of his condition. He’s thrust into the intrigue of the Rainor court, while at the mercy of its diabolical priest.     The start of a dark sensual slow-burn series by the author of Maelstrom!

Available EVERYWHERE! Read on your computer or device!  Grab it now:

Amazon USA, iBooks, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Kobo, Amazon UK, Amazon Germany, Amazon Australia, Amazon Canada, Amazon France, Amazon Italy, Amazon Spain, Amazon Brazil, Amazon Mexico, Amazon Netherlands, Amazon Japan, or Amazon India.

Excerpt ~

1 The Sheriff and the Half-Sister

“You have to oversee things, brother.”  Valeria twisted her apron in both her fists as she beseeched Priest Sabaste in the stable. “He’s possessed of a demon.  A holy man must be present or he’ll wreak havoc.” Her body language bespoke anxiety, but Sebaste knew it wasn’t due to the disturbed man in his church aspe.  His estranged half-sister fretted over asking him favors.

“I wish not to get involved in pointless pursuits.”  He kept his gaze steady on her, forcing her to look at the floor to avoid the fire in his blue eyes.  Valeria, wide-faced beneath dark blond curls and with lines on the corners of her kind gray eyes, shrank before him.

“But it’s for Sabina,” she said, uttering Sabaste’s twin sister’s name in a cajoling way.  “She must be sick over this.  Her little one’s been missing so long.  If it could help—”

“I don’t believe she’s concerned.”

This made Valeria gape at him.  Sheriff Edmont picked himself off the stable post he’d been leaning on behind her.  The man, whose face reminded Sebaste of a weasel, planted his skinny legs wide and crossed his arms.  The priest didn’t allow him the benefit of a glance.

“It was only a girl-child.  Sabina’s focus is on producing heirs.  She considers her a wasted pregnancy.”

“Hey, now watch it,” Edmont said.  Sabaste eyed him while noting his vernacular had grown more like the peasantry.  “Juelet’s a niece to you and me both, a sweet little girl.  Don’t be saying her mother doesn’t love her.  The only one who’s cruel enough to hate an innocent lamb like that is you.”

Beside him the priest’s black stallion bristled at the raised voice.  His focus returned to the beautiful creature’s gleaming hide.  He worked his brush through its mane twice, forcing both Valeria and Edmont to endure an extended silence.

“You brought a charlatan to our keep, Sheriff. Kindly engage him in his scam as your wont and then get him the hell out of my church.”

“He ain’t a charlatan, you pompous ass!”

“That’s what I was going to mention,” Valeria said. Sabaste gave her the benefit of his attention since she was by no means as despicable as the sheriff.  “He didn’t come offering to help for a fee.  He was kidnapped and brung here.”

“Arrested,” Edmont corrected.

“Well, brought against his will in any case. He’s truly possessed of this demon or spirit, and it sees things that none of us can.”

“You ought to let me tell it,” Edmont said, “if your brother will hear me for half a minute.”

Sabaste led his horse to its stall a few steps away. “I’m listening.”  An arrested man was now worthy of his interest.  What might the pathetic fellow give to earn his freedom?    

“So Jonah’s his name, no surname given.” Edmont paused to clear his throat, a cue for insecurity Sabaste recognized.  “He lives alone out in the moors in some wooden shack, goddess only knows how long.  Apparently he sells the coal out there, has some arrangement with a sheepherder, a grocer, and a rye farmer, what have you.”

“Get to the point.”

“That’s what I’m doing!  I’m saying he’s coming back late from the market one time and a man named Otho, a bootmaker well known in the county, sees that his eyes have gone red, his teeth have gone sharp, horns sprouted out of his head, claws on his fingers, and black marks about his face.  Otho runs at him with his pitchfork, but the demon makes him freeze with fear.  He tells him he ought to get home because his baby’s coming early and sideways.  Sure enough it’s true, and Otho is able to find the midwife in time to save both his wife and child.  Otho tells a few others, and they tell a few others, and so a woman goes to him about her young one who was carried off by a bird.  And she learns the girl wasn’t taken by a bird like her husband said, but she’d been hauled to a brothel.  She retrieves her before her virginity is sold.  There’s many more stories as this.  He helps some here and there, always saying never to trouble him again.  He says what has him possessed is evil and wants to do harm.  He tells all to stay away.”

Sabaste held back signs of his burgeoning excitement. It was likely untrue.  Both Edmont and the peasants of their county were dullards.

But, oh if such a creature truly did exist.

“I asked him to help with young Juelet.  He wouldn’t open his door to me—demanded I get off his property.  He knew full well I was the sheriff.  I had no choice but to come back with my men.”  He looked at Valeria.  “It was the right thing to do, taking him.  If he really is a demon, we can’t have him loose in the county.”

“You’ll talk to him, won’t you, brother?” Valeria’s nerve had been reinvigorated. “The men are all scared of him.”

Sabaste made a forthright stride past both of them. “I’ll speak to him alone.”

“I need to be there!” Edmont said.  

He heard Valeria softly convincing him to let him have his way.  In such situations she proved invaluable.  The sheriff could yield to her without compromising his pride.  

The stable connected to the manor house, which was not quite a castle, but was still the second most impressive building in the county.  The thatched roof worked around windowed dormers.  A balcony stood on tall piers off the second story, with rolling views of the low meadows and village.  The concrete was immaculately shaped and whitewashed, with decorative shutters adorning numerous small windows.  

He continued to his church beyond this, the Temple of the Four Gods, which dwarfed the manor enough to keep it enclosed in its shadow three hours of every day.  His roofs were made of rounded clay slates, baked a hundred at a time in former church’s kiln.  Large stones comprised the main floor, as many as the county’s meager foundry had to provide.  Smaller rocks had to be used to create the walls of his spires and great tower.  

He entered through doors of colored glass to the nave of his church.  At the end of the central aisle he could see sheriff’s men, a half-dozen uncouth barbarians desecrating the sanctity of his apse.  He noticed their muddy boot prints on the polished wood of his floor.  It was peat and darkened soil from the moors.

As he drew nearer, he saw a youth among them who was damp from his left shoulder to the soles of his boots.  He visualized how the arrested man must have tossed him in a desperate bid to flee.  The others, twice as thick as the youth, had subdued him without succumbing to the muck.

So he may not truly be possessed of a demon. He was unable to summon its preternatural strength to escape them.

They clustered around the office of his high druid. A few who’d been seated came to their feet as he approached.  They gave him questioning looks for an instance, then avoided his radiant eyes. Sabaste said nothing to them, produced a key for the door, and went in.

2 The Prisoner

Seated on a carved wooden bench before the desk of his druid was a man of thirty, his brown shock of hair tussled, his worn hemp trousers and long-tunic caked in mud.  He sat huddled and holding himself like the personification of a trapped fawn.  The raising and lowering of his shoulders with each breath came faster than they should, as though he were still panicked.  Despite filth coating one side of his face, Sabaste saw beauty.  He had a narrow cleft chin beneath a wide pleasing jaw and large soulful eyes that matched in depth what his own had in fire.  

He fixed these wide eyes on Sabaste, and his breaths grew more rapid still.  The priest closed the door but made no move to sit.  He allowed the man to absorb him on his feet, where he could present the most intimidating impression.  He wore a black linen Cossack which started at his collared neck and draped with a skirt to the floor.  His thin cloak, also black as coal pitch, remained hooded over his dark locks of hair.  It shadowed his eyes, but in no way inhibited their brilliance.

“You’re Jonah,” Sabaste said, while moving to his druid’s desk, “the man possessed by a demon?”

Jonah’s voice came out in the full tenor of desperation.  “I’ve done nothing wrong.  If my presence offends the county I’ll take my leave at once and will never return.  I beg to plead before his lordship.”

Sabaste looked him over once more.  He hadn’t expected a cultured tongue to match the refinement of his face.  Now he was forced to wonder whom he was dealing with.

He entwined his fingers and tented his thumbs.  “The earl heeds my council on all matters, particularly those involving demonic spirits. Plead before me, as you would him.”

Jonah swallowed, collecting himself before beginning once more.  “I beg you to let me leave.”

“What of the earl’s missing daughter?”

Genuine bewilderment formed on his face.  “His daughter is missing?”

Sabaste nodded.

“I knew nothing of this. They…didn’t tell me anything.”

Of course not, the buffoons.

“So I’ve been brought here to give aid?”

The priest leaned back his head to look down his nose at the man.  “Can you find her?”

“Yes.”

His lack of hesitation made Sabaste’s brow twitch.

“He can—or he can tell you what’s become of her.”

“‘He’ being your demon?”

The man pursed his lips and nodded.  “And then I may go free?  Once I’ve assisted you, I can return to the moors?”

“I’ll make a determination on the matter after you produce the girl.”

“I won’t help you unless you promise to set me free.”

The bluff made Sabaste grin. “I promise you absolutely nothing. And you will help us.  You’d be wise not to test me.”

Jonah bowed his head, both angry and resigned.  The priest most enjoyed the anger, since it heralded an enticing conflict.  Were he too complaint Sabaste would get bored.

Proceed slowly, cautiously, estimate him fully before deciding which move to make.  He was so rarely at a disadvantage with his adversaries. For the first time he knew nothing of his opponent’s powers.    

The priest waited half a minute before moving, to be sure the man had yielded to his control.  Then he rose and tipped his chin at him.

“Come.  You may cleanse yourself of this mud in my quarters. I’ll find you a fresh set of clothes.”

The soulful eyes looked upwards, absorbing the grain of kindness like succor.  He climbed to his feet, still huddling his arms around his body, and followed Sabaste out.

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