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From the Ashes: Simmering Heat (ch. 7)
🕑 Added 2022-10-01 15:05:29 +0000 UTCA heads up -- Gacha God will be going live sometime this month. The reaction to this story has been a bit more than I anticipated, so rather than putting it on ice, I'll be continuing it up to a certain point. From the Ashes will become a bi-weekly story updated on Friday or Sunday, up until I reach a natural stopping point. The story would return when the next section is completed. This is mostly because writing six active stories at the same time in addition to my other side projects is... a bit much.
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"Have you never used a staff before?" Merrill asked me as I held a wooden staff in my hands that was elaborately engraved while the tip of the staff was curled roots around a focus that was inlaid with lyrium according to the Keeper and First duo. It was surprisingly heavy as I shook my head.
"The Templars would have found me," I answered. The revelation that I had magic shoehorned me into being the Second for the clan, but it was a position that was empty. People didn't know me, they didn't trust me, but I had to be the Second to learn how to control my magic if I wanted to stay with the clan.
"It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it," Merrill encouraged as we stood alone in the forest, not too far away from the clan perimeter, but far enough away for 'safety reasons.' "You need to channel your mana through the staff -- not as much as you usually do casting without! The staff focuses your mana, so you get more with less."
I nodded, processing that, channeling the Fade through the staff before I thrust the staff out, trying to cast Dancing Lights through it. Instead, I got a fissile of light and a few sparks. And the smell that something was burning. I looked to Merrill, who seemed honestly astonished that I couldn't cast through a staff.
"That was… impressive! And bad. It was impressively bad," she decided, giving me a nod before she realized how that sounded. "You'll figure it out! You just have to keep trying," she encouraged and the fact that she sounded like she meant it was a bit encouraging.
"Do I need a staff?" I asked her, using my free hand to cast the same spell I tried before -- Dancing Lights. Motes of pure light appeared and began to move around. Merrill seemed absolutely delighted to see the spell and it wasn't one that Merrill knew. I don't think I knew more about magic than her, but it did seem that in terms of knowledge, we didn't have a lot of overlap.
"I suppose not, but I've always found it easier to cast with one. I can barely manage a third of what I can without a staff than I could with one," she pointed out, and it did sound like it was worth practicing with. If a Templar did come across me with a staff, I had a lot more options than just going with him to the Circle to prevent any consequences befalling my family. "How do you make them move like that? They're so pretty?" Merrill batted her eyes at me, looking happy to learn as she was to teach.
I did my best to teach her -- while I hadn't been taught, it was a rather simple spell. Merrill beamed joy out of every pore when she created a half dozen motes of light that danced around us, giggling all the while. She loved magic, I saw -- learning it, casting it, and teaching it. It was such a different attitude than I was used to. I grew up fearing my magic. Hating it. Wishing that it would just go away one day. It was very different seeing someone who embraced their magic and relished in it.
I became very aware of my backpack left in my tent. I decided to be cautious because I wanted to keep my magic a secret, but that secret was out. Keeping the books a secret was going to do me more harm than good when I did reveal them. I was selflessly hoarding the relics because I expected them to be taken from me. The Dalish hadn't given me any reason to distrust them, but at the same time, they hadn't given me great reason to trust them.
Merrill was as eager to teach as she was to learn. I watched as she drew in wisps of the Fade, small pieces of a realm where anything was possible and channeled them through her staff. With a thrust at a rotten stump of a felled tree, the ground at her feet leaped up into a stone fist that smashed into the stump and reduced it to splinters, shattering it like a brick through painted glass.
I set my staff aside as I mimicked how she drew in the wisps of the Fade, and I found that of all the spells that I had performed, it was by far the most tiring, but not enough so that I needed rest. I had no real frame of reference for how deep my connection with the Fade was, but I knew that Gaxkang had changed it. I drew in the Fade far easier, it beckoned to my will with ease, and it obeyed me in greater quantities. I raised a hand, summoning the stone fist as Merrill did before I flung it forward at the same tree stump.
My impact was lesser. The stone wasn't as well put together, it didn't really have much of a fist shape, but it struck solid all the same. Merrill clapped happily for me.
"On your first try! It took me forever to learn that spell," Merrill informed me, sounding happy for me. "Without a staff too!
We discovered that I had a talent for elemental spells. I didn't have any talent for Entropy spells at all, such as Hex or Weakness. Or, in my case, Ray of Sickness, that Merrill learned as quickly as I did Stonefist. However, Merrill couldn't manage even the smallest of illusions. One point of overlap was that all Keepers needed to know some level of healing magic to keep their clan healthy -- she knew healing spells, while I was able to teach her Rejuvenation.
It was an exchange of knowledge that took place over weeks. Eventually, the clan decided to move on from the forest and took us into a mountainous land called the Hinterlands. It was a harsh place, I learned as the cold began to settle in and one morning I saw frost upon the morning dew. The clothing that Mother stitched for me for my eventual wedding was replaced by furs and leathers, leaving mess out of place than I had been.
The furs and leathers took some getting used to. The clothing was heavier and denser, but the halla wool kept me warm as we left the Brecilian forest and entered the Hinterlands -- a land of steep cliffs and tall mountains that were capped with snow peaks. I thought the terrain would be difficult to manage with the carnivals, but with magic from the Keeper and Merrill, and with my Mold Earth spell, we scaled the cliffs and mountains with swiftness.
The Sabrae clan told me as much as they could about the land as we made out way through it. We swept through the South Reach Arling, weaving between the farmstead villages and the sweeping fields that had already been harvested of wheat and barley. We traveled through the Arling of Redcliff as well, it too filled with farmland as far as the eye could see.
I caught sight of the Lake of Calenhad for the first time, a named after the first Ferelden King, that swept upward like a small ocean. I also thought that I spotted the Circle tower that was located off the coast of the lake with no bridge to make an easy escape. But, that could have been my eyes playing tricks on me as we scaled the rolling hills that only seemed to grow larger as the hills became deeper.
The Sabrae clan had a traditional wintering place, I learned as we traveled through the Hinterlands and the farmland started to thin out the further we traveled west. By the time we reached the edge of the Frostback Basin and the Hinterlands, there was only untamed wilderness for the most part. Even if there were the occasional village, they were very much isolated and seemed to be hunting villages rather than farming ones.
The wintering place was a valley in the Hinterlands that, according to the rest of the Sabrae clan, never fully iced over during the winter and the forest in that valley would be filled with game for the duration of winter. I figured I would have to see it to believe it.
And see it I did. The entire trip took around two weeks of travel and, by that time, I liked to think that I was settling in. Wasn’t exactly popular in the clan by any means, but they were treating me like a new elf in the alienage -- suspicion, cautiousness, but willing to give the benefit of the doubt.
“Azoth,” Theron spoke up, catching my attention as the clan began to unpack the carnivals to dig into the site that we would be spending the winter in. It was high up, our backs against a steep cliff that had a cave that we would use if the winter became too bitter, and before us was a forest of trees that rested in a bowl with tall mountain ranges off in the distance. I looked up just in time to see him toss me a bow. “Me and Tamlen are going hunting. You’re coming with,” he informed me.
A little odd, but I nodded as I caught the bow. Standing up, I slung my pack over my back and grabbed a communal quiver of arrows. While personal property did exist in the clan, most things were communal. I was welcomed to take all of the arrows that I wanted, I was just expected to return them or replace them if they broke. I caught sight of Tamlen, who gave me a friendly nod.
They were the two that I got on the best with. Everyone else varied from dislike to cordial, except for Merrill. The two led me into the forest, revealing that were going to hunt while we still could and to check for any dangers to the clan before the snow got too heavy. All the while, Theron and Tamlen chatted to each other.
“We need to move on,” Theron muttered to Tamlen. “Every year, it's the same. We spend the winter and spring here, we go up to the Waking Sea for summer, and then we go to the Brecilian forest for fall. We’re following our own trail over and over again.”
“We stay there because we know it's safe,” Tamlen replied. I really didn’t feel like I should be pitching in to the conversation given I had only been with the Dalish for a few very short weeks. “We know it works. Why change it?”
“Because when was the last time we discovered anything of note?” Theron shot back, giving Tamlen a pointed look. “We were humiliated at the Arlathvhen. Our clan contributed next to nothing in the grand exchange of knowledge. We only received. It's because we aren’t seeking it out! We need to break from our tradition and begin to explore other paths.”
My gaze swept over the forest, seeing a lot of greenery despite the chill in the air. It seemed like a less impressive Brecilian forest, but as far as I heard, most forests were like this one instead of Brecilian forest. Still, the sounds of nature were becoming a familiar tune to me, just as was their bickering. A question started to weigh on my mind the longer I traveled with the Dalish, but each time I was tempted to ask, I swallowed it down.
“Where would you have us go then, Theron?” Tamlen asked as we crouched through the forest.
“Into the Frostbacks,” Theron answered, making Tamlen sputter. “As far as I know, none of the people have searched the mountains for relics.”
“Because our ancestors wouldn’t have wanted to live there,” Tamlen spoke up, looking to me to support him. I, however, offered a shrug.
“The ancient elves had incredible magic. I think they could have lived anywhere and they could have made it a personal paradise,” I voiced, and I got exactly the response that I expected.
“Damn shemlen,” Theron muttered, earning a nod from Tamlen. “The world would be better off without them. If it weren’t for them infecting us with their quickling blood, we’d still have our immortality.” It was a pattern I was rapidly noticing because it happened every single time without fail. If you talked about the ancient elves and what they used to have, every Dalish in earshot would start talking about how horrible humans were.
Tamlen sighed, “So, your plan is to search the frostbacks and hope you stumble across lore of our people that hasn’t been iced over?” He questioned, earning a scowl from Theron as we continued through the forest. I spotted a creekbed, but the water was dried up. Probably because of winter, I guess.
“If finding relics of our people were so easy, then we would have found them all already,” Theron made a point that Tamlen conceded to. “We have to search in the far corners of the world-”
“For what?” I questioned, making both men look back at me, seemingly startled by the question. “Are we looking for anything in particular?” I asked them, looking between them, wondering if I should have said anything at all. Were they looking for ancient magic to use against the humans? A way to restore our immortality? A weapon so great and terrible that the humans would give us the Dales back out of fear of it?
Tamlen shook his head, “The Keeper will be happy with any lore we find,” he told me. I didn’t really expect any answer other than that. They still barely knew me. There’s no way they would trust me with their intentions so early, but I was hoping for a chance to prove that they could. I wanted to help them with their goal of reclaiming a homeland for the Elves. One that we could keep.
But… I couldn’t help having a nagging suspicion in the back of my mind.
“What do elven ruins look like?” I asked as we walked through the forest, doing more talking and less hunting that was advertised.
It was Theron’s turn to shrug, “Old crumbly ruins for the most part. We shift around them, looking for pieces that are intact. Then we try to decipher them. Well, the Keeper does. Then the Haren fits those pieces into the lost lore of our people.” Then, in about six years from now, they would have a huge exchange of knowledge like they mentioned.
I had an idea on how to get me included in their plan. At least, I think I did. The time had passed to bring up the tomes I possessed in a casual way, but if we were to find some elven temple and I happened to find the tomes there, that would undo the impression I made of hiding my magic. But, the whole idea relied upon us finding some convenient elven ruins.
I was going to continue asking questions -- both to learn more, and slightly hoping that they would slip up and reveal something about the Dalish plans -- only to be cut off by a loud shout in the distance. Tamlen and Theron, both far more attuned to the sounds of nature, immediately honed in on the source.
"That couldn't have been one of us," Theron pointed out. We should be the only three out.
"It's worth checking out," Tamlen decided, earning a nod from Theron before both of them broke into a dead sprint. I sprinted after them, but I quickly began to lag behind -- they were both far fitter than I was, and their longer legs helped them both out a great deal since Tamlen and Theron were tall for elves at 5'10. They weaved between the trees, leaping over roots and bushes, and I just about lost sight of them, they pulled so far ahead. However, when I heard a pained yelp, I knew I was getting close.
The forest was so thick that I just about ran straight off of a cliff that was a straight drop of about fifteen feet. Tamlen and Theron were both below in dry creekbed, leaning over a third figure. I spared them a quick look before I caught a glimpse of movement. "We have company!" I called out, notching my bow as I cast True Strike upon it. Both Theron and Tamlen whipped around and a second later, a man came bursting through the foliage.
"Avvar!" Theron shouted as the large man dressed in furs and carrying a battle axe sprinted towards them with it raised high. He was large. Very large. Closer to seven feet tall than not, and he took an arrow from Tamlen and Theron, both in the chest without pause.
"Elves!" The Avvar barbarian shouted at the top of his lungs, lunging for Theron. The figure at their feet leaped to theirs before taking off running. I made a split decision and let the arrow loose as the Avvar closed the distance. Theron and Tamlen both put another arrow into him each, but he didn't slow. Not until my arrow caught him in the eye. His axe paused at the apex of his swing, tipping him over and falling heavily in the sand and gravel.
My stomach clenched as it clicked what I just did. I killed someone. Not a demon trying to possess me. A person.
"Azoth! Catch her!" Tamlen shouted, pointing at the retreating figure. She was clad in rough-looking clothing, sprinting barefoot over the gravel to loop around the cliff. I hesitated a brief second before I did as bid, sprinting around to cut her off. It took a quick minute, but I arrived at the path she was taking. Taking cues from Tamlen and Theron, I pointed my bow at her and she skidded to a halt when she saw me.
I realized that she was human. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, a fine face that was judged with dirt and blood. Her eyes were wild, filled with fear as she looked at me and around me, searching for a place to run. Her clothing was tagged and ripped, but it reminded me of my own -- first and leather.
"We aren't going to hurt you," I told her, deciding to lower my bow.
The woman glowered at me, "You aren't a painted elf," she remarked with an odd accent before she flinched at the sounds of Tamlen and Theron's arrival. They pointed their bows at her, their faces deep scowls.
"Why was that avvar barbarian chasing you?" Theron demanded to know, circling around so she could see the arrow pointed at her chest.
The woman scoffed, "He was a member of a rival clan. One that has deals with you flatlanders to sell pretty ladies to serve in your pretty castles," she said, spitting on the ground at Theron's feet. Her eyes hardened when Theron scowled at her.
"How many of you are there? How many of them? Where are you camped?" Tamlen picked up the questioning.
The woman narrowed her eyes at Tamlen, then at me. "You ain't friends of the Stormbreakers?" She questioned, sounding like she was putting a plan together.
"We're Dalish, not a member of your tribes," Theron snapped at her, sounding offended that she thought it was possible.
The woman scowled at him, "Well, I didn't know that. I just thought you were a tribe of painted elves." She muttered under her breath before her lips thinned. "The Stormbreakers attacked our hold and captured most of my clan. They're holding us in a lowlander building not far from here. I don't got nothing to offer, but will you help me and my clan?" She asked and by the sound in her voice, she suspected the answer.
Theron didn't hesitate, "Why would we help shemlen?" He asked, a sneer in his voice.
The woman scowled, "We can return the favor once we're freed."
"The Dalish have gotten sick of shemlen promises. You can't be trusted to uphold them," Tamlen added, and the woman sensed the danger that she was in. Her body tensed, ready to spring into action. They were going to kill her, I realized. In cold blood. For no greater reason than she was human.
And… I agreed with them. I hated humans. However… I hated a type of human. The ones that lorded over the elves. The ones that helped abused upon us and took sadistic pleasure in our suffering. I hated those that felt pity for us, but still did nothing while we suffered. I hated those that didn't care for the plight of elves at all. If this one had been any one of the above… I would kill her myself.
"Wait," I spoke up, catching all of their attention. "How big is your clan?"
"Was about three hundred strong, half of that warriors. Now… half that. We had a bad battle against the Stormbreakers and their lowlander allies," she informed. "I don't know who the Shemlen clan are, but we're known as the Stone-Bear Hold. If they have wronged you, then I swear on my honor that I will help you take Justice upon them."
She was completely ignorant, I realized. It was too early to tell if she was the type of human that I hated, but I was convinced that she had no ill will towards elves. Probably because she had never seen one before.
"Azoth, no. We're killing this shemlen. Her people can rot," Theron snapped at me as much as her, and the Avvar woman seemed thoroughly indignant. It made me believe that she really thought that Shemlen was some clan, and we were the ignorant ones for not realizing all Avvar clans weren't the same.
"How far away is this lowlander stronghold?" I asked and the woman answered.
"It's three days from here," she answered, and that made Theron and Tamlen still. That wasn't exactly close, but it was too close for comfort. They exchanged a look between each other, both wearing deep frowns.
"That is a concern for safety, but there's no guarantee they'll find us," Tamlen voiced, earning a dismissive snort from the woman. "We should kill her and inform the clan. Keep watch to make sure they don't venture near."
Theron nodded, giving his agreement. I found that so… disappointing.
"Are you really that afraid of a fight? How are we going to fight off the humans and retake our kingdom if we run from every conflict?" I demanded hotly, and it was then that I saw it. My heart lurched in my chest when I did, but I saw it.
Confusion.
They had no idea what I was talking about.
Maybe they weren't included. I thought it would be something gatekept by a right of passage, like receiving a Vallaslin, but maybe I was wrong about that. Maybe only the Keeper was aware. I thought that the Dalish clans were scouting out the other kingdoms, and that's what a hunters duty doubled as, but just because I was wrong about this didn't mean I was wrong about everything. The Dalish had to be planning to attack the human kingdoms. They… were just waiting until an opportunity presented itself and they had the right weapon or magic to make sure that we didn't lose our homeland again.
"We aren't afraid to fight," Tamlen defended hotly. "I just won't see elvish blood spilled for the sake of the shemlen. Let her people free themselves. May they all die fighting each other," Tamlen spat.
"Then don't fight. I'll help her on my own," I decided, making her eyes widen a fraction as she regarded me with greater respect.
Theron seemed like he couldn't believe his ears, "Why? Azoth, you have more reason to hate the shemlen than the rest of us. Why are you trying to help them?" He asked, sounding like he genuinely couldn't wrap his head around it.
He spoke of hate and he didn't know what it was. Theron, Tamlen, and the rest of the Dalish were those that threw the word around without fully understanding what it meant. They were angry. They were vengeful. But, they didn't hate, because hate required a deeply personal loss. They hadn't ever seen the Dalish Kingdom, much less Arlathan. If they hated humans as much as they claimed they did…
Then they would come with me to slaughter every human they could get their hands on. The Stormbreakers and the Stone-Bear Hold. Not because they were a threat. When you hated something, you didn't need a justification. The fact that they were human would be enough.
"If you have to ask that," I spoke, a small sigh in my voice, "Then you don't understand a damn thing about anything." I could tell that wasn't what he wanted to hear and he was growing red in the face with anger while Tamlen seemed genuinely put out.
"We can't stop you if you wish to go, Azoth," Tamlen told me. "But, you may not find yourself welcomed among the Sabrae clan if you return."
I had hoped that they would decide to come with me but no such luck, it seemed.
I held out the bow and quiver for them to take, "Then I'll return this while I still can." Tamlen's lips thinned that the warning wasn't enough to get me to come back with them.
"Keep the damn bow, flat ear. I should have known you'd go running back to the shemlen the moment you saw one," Theron snapped at me before he turned on his heel and began to march away. Tamlen gave me one last look as he passed me by, looking like he was trying to understand my reasoning, but he just couldn't.
As he passed, I tried to explain. "She doesn't even know what a shemlen is," I told Tamlen as he walked by, making him pause for the briefest of seconds, but all the same he continued on. I watched them go, disappearing into the forest. A sigh escaped me when they vanished and I turned to the woman, who watched me with a distressed expression.
"You should go with them," she decided. "Do not cast yourself out of your clan for my sake. I have my life thanks to you. Do not put me in your debt any further," she requested, but I walked by her, heading in the direction that she had come from.
"My decision has absolutely nothing to do with you. I'm doing this for my sake," I told her, my voice tightly controlled. I was doing this because I hated the people that turned a blind eye to the suffering of my people because it was easier to look away. Because it went against the grain to speak up or do something.
I was going to be something terrible. That vow I made beneath the bodies of everyone I ever loved had been carved into my heart. I still saw them in my dreams and they haunted me with every step, but it was those humans that I hated most of all. It was those humans, I decided, that I would rather die attacking some fortress on my own than be anything like them.
I would never look away.
"I am Svarah Janesdotten. The painted elves called you Azoth, yes?" Svarah questioned as we approached the body of the man that I killed. His blood was drunk by the dry sand and gravel. His face blank and his only eye glazed over in death. It wasn't the first time I had seen a dead body, even before the purge on the alienage. Denerim wasn't a safe city, after all. However, it was the first time I had killed someone and their body didn't dissolve into the Fade.
I found that I didn't care. The avvar was a huge sticky man with his face slathered in paint with a dark brown bushy beard covering the parts that weren't covered. Kicking him over, I grabbed hold of the arrow and ripped it out of his eyesocket. My heart had no sympathy to give to the man and I didn't care about his death. He could have a family. He could be a lovely father to his children and they would grow up without him.
And I didn't care.
"The Stormbreakers can barely call themselves Avvar," Svarah spoke, grabbing the battle axe out of his dead hands and giving it a few test swings. She seemed a lot stronger than she looked because she seemed proficient with the axe. "Let us go then and know if-"
"Let's just go already," I said, cutting her off as I began walking.
For better or for worse, this was my path and I would see it through to its bitter end.
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Bud
The first cracks in the Dalish Propaganda and Ideology appear.
