Sisters of Tevinter

Sickness

      "I was once Magister Alexius' apprentice," Dorian said. "He does not belong here in Thedas- truthfully neither do I. He is an ambitious man, working with a growing mass of Tevinter supremacists."

       "He's enslaved the mages." 

       Dorian frowned. "...In the simplest of terms, yes. Though you won't find it on paper. Through many political puppet strings, Alexius wormed his way into the heart of Redcliffe. Over time he built enough dissent amongst the mages to strip Fiona of her title and rake responsibility."

       "How did he get here?" Jor cocked her head to one side. "I would have heard news of a Magister's arrival anywhere." She glanced at Kaisen to confirm this, who nodded. 

        "Now that's where things get tricky." Dorian held up a finger. "Notice how Fiona didn't recognize you?"

         "That was rather obvious, yes," Cassandra griped. 

         "Because she was never at Val Royeaux to meet you." 

        "So who was?" Jor frowned.

        "No one. That series of events never happened."

        "...I don't have the greatest memory, but I was there."  The scholar shook her head. "You're not making any sense." 

        A small, wooden side door to the chapel creaked open. Jor, fearing they'd been discovered, whipped around. 

        "Felix! Good show." Dorian beamed. "All's well?"

        "Yes." The young man smiled, his voice was strong. "Though I shouldn't have played the sickness card. I thought Father would be fussing over me all day. I'd never get to leave."

         "But here you are." Dorian gestured to the Magister's son. "Jormungandr, meet Felix, my invaluable eye on the inside."

          "Yes. We've bumped into one another in the past." Jor gave a crooked smile. 

          Felix rubbed the back of his neck, yellow robes swinging. "Sorry about that."

          "No, it was clever. You're brave."

          Felix bowed his head, smiling. "Thank you. It's the least I can do."

          "To help the Inquisition?" 

          "You, specifically," Dorian said slowly. "You may not have known of Alexius- but he knows you. The magic in that hand of yours is unfortunately what motivated him to begin his conquest. The link to the Veil was his breakthrough."

           "Breakthrough. He's studying something." Jor rubbed her arms. This couldn't be going anywhere good. 

           "Studied," Dorian corrected, looking as though he'd swallowed something foul. "I encouraged him to discontinue his work, but the man was drunk on power." The mage's dark gaze slid to Felix, full of regret. "Alexius studied the flow of time. And its manipulation."

             "Time travel." Jor scowled. "That sounds dangerous." 

              "Very." Dorian shook his head. "As you've seen, the Veil's broken threads can create alternate time zones. That is only the beginning. As you've also seen, you're the only one with the power to reverse the magic." 

               "Lucky me." 

               "Indeed. In a way, Alexius has laid this trap just for you. I doubt he plans on letting you leave here alive." 

                Jor's gut twisted, but she couldn't help but smile. "And to think, I didn't get the Magister anything."

                Dorian grinned. "Send him a fruit basket. Everyone loves those."

                 Felix glanced at the darkening sunshine filtering through the chapel windows. "I'd better go back. I can't stay."

                Dorian's smile weakened at the edges. "Of course." He turned in a sweeping movement and touched the young man's arm. "Be careful. Keep your father busy as long as you can." 

                Felix's lips quirked, almost impishly. "Have I ever done anything else?" He strode for the door. 

               "Oh, and Felix?" 

               The young mage turned to look over his shoulder. Dorian smiled. "Try not to die."

                The magister's son nodded, and then he was gone. 

                "...I'd wager there's a regime of spellbinders at the gates for when I try to get out of here, yes?" Jor turned to the dark haired mage.

                "Most definitely." Dorian nodded, turning back to look at her. 

                "That sounds fun," Kaisen mused. "How do we go around them?" 

               Dorian laughed. "May I suggest a more direct approach?" 

                 "You may." Bull folded his massive arms, looking amused. 

                "We can confront Alexius with the help of those beneath him. Some are still loyal to Fiona. We find the enchantress, rally her followers and stand off in Alexius' chambers. I don't think he's so far gone that he won't consider laying down his arms. I will speak to him. He was once a very good man. A man of reason. It is only desperation and grief that drives him now." Dorian's eyes once again trailed to the door where Felix had vanished through. 

                 "He mentioned a sickness," Jor began softly. 

                 Dorian lifted his chin. "Felix is Blighted. He does not have much time left."

                 Her mother's hollowed eyes and paper thin skin of purest white strung Jor up by her neck. The scholar dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry." 

                 "He's not dead yet." Dorian smiled slightly. "And he recognizes the danger his father's powerful friends pose to Thedas."

                 "I guess this means... time is of the essence." Jor gave a thin smile, beginning to stride through the main double doors of the chapel. 

                 Bull chuckled. Cassandra rolled her eyes. 

                 "You joke. I like that." Dorian grinned and trotted beside the scholar. "Demons have yet to tear the humor from your tongue." 

                  "I like to keep them as far away from my mouth as possible." Jor took the stairs carefully. Kaisen snorted. 

                The scholar pushed open the double doors and winced in the sudden brightness of the evening sky. 

                "This way." Dorian lead the companions down back towards the low compound of marble and gold. "We'll use the servant's entrance."

                Cassandra fell into step beside Jor as the scholar forged ahead. "This could be a trap."

                "You don't trust him?" Jor smiled. Cassandra gave the Herald a flat look. "Good." The scholar kept walking. "Me neither."