Several days after their first meeting with the Revered Mother, plans were already in motion for a trip to Val Royeaux. Still, it would take a little time to get everything together, and apparently Leon had been planning to go there already anyway, so it had been decided that they would kill two birds with one stone and do everything at the same time.
In the meantime, their focus had otherwise remained on the Hinterlands, which seemed to be plagued with enough problems to occupy much of their force for a very long time. There were mages, templars, bandits, some kind of cult, and rumors of rifts further in. Despite this, Estella had suggested diverting at least a small team of them to seek out someone who was not involved with any of it, at least not to her knowledge. Sheâd been⊠sparing, with the details, only pointing out that she knew a very talented mage who might be in the area, but considering how much they could use someone like that, little else was necessary.
She hadnât heard from her brother since before the Conclave, but all of this seemed exactly like the kind of thing he would be able to help with. All this strange magic that she knew nothing about and Asala had to guess atâthat was exactly what Cyrus had always thrived on. Estella also couldnât deny that she was excited by the prospect of seeing him again; almost as excited as she was terrified, really.
The prospect of someone with real expertise in such rare arcane matters wasnât something they could really afford to pass up, and so via messenger bird, sheâd received Leonâs go-ahead to search for him, along with a note from Rilien about where someone interested in old magic might be. Apparently, there were several locations of historical interest in the Hinterlands, and one of them wasnât too far from here. Their route had brought them into direct conflict with one of the more stubborn pockets of bandits, and so they were, at this point, making rather slow progress, fighting their way up the dirt path towards the location her teacher had indicated.
Estella rolled her shoulders when the last bandit fell, trying to ease some of the soreness that had built up over the long days of combat theyâd endured here. The refugee camp wasnât exactly in the safest location, and with the sheer number of potential threats to it, their troops were spread thin as it was. Khari had left several hours earlier to help Donnelly with a pocket of mages trying to sabotage the supply lines, which was quickly starving the refugees and the troops. Maybe Lia and the scouts would be able to replenish the food from the local wildlifeâŠ
She didnât bother putting her sword away this time. Instead, she turned, to look back at Romulus and Asala. âIt shouldnât be too much longer before we get there. The map says itâs this way.â Turning off the road for the first time, Estella struck up a hill. There was more tree cover in this area, but the terrain wasnât difficult, so they kept up a good pace.
They walked for several more minutes in relative quiet, occasionally passing the corpse of another bandit, or evidence of a scuffle between mages and templars. More than the usual amount of these bodies had been struck by arrows, however, though why that was didnât become evident until theyâd been walking for another ten minutes.
At that point, the soft hiss of an arrow passing through air broke the silence, and one struck the ground in front of Estellaâs feet. She took a quick step backwards, scanning the undersides of the trees for the shooter, while Romulus immediately crouched down, and covered the direction the arrow had come from with his shield. âTurn around. Thereâs nothing for you this way, brigands.â The voice, slightly androgynous but identifiable as belonging to a woman, seemed to come from a different direction than the arrow had, making it hard to tell how many people were hidden in the boughs.
Almost immediately after a shield bubble was cast around the three of them, with Asala in the middle and the tip of her staff dug into the dirt.
Estella was glad of the protection, but she also thought maybe thereâd been a misunderstanding here, and if they could correct it, it might not have to end in a fight. Though it probably didnât mean much, considering she was behind a magical shield, she sheathed her saber and held both hands up in the air. âWeâre not bandits,â she said, speaking generally up at the branches overhead, since she wasnât sure which of them were occupied. The leaf cover made it really hard to tell. âNor templars. And we arenât with the mages, either.â It was technically incorrect to say that none of them were mages, and obviously so, considering Asala.
âActually, um, weâre with the Inquisition. Weâre looking for someone.â Sheâd never been any good with knowing what to give away or keep secret, so for the most part, she just erred on the side of telling the truth, and taking the risk of telling too much of it. It seemed to work sometimes, anyway.
There was a period of silence, but then the voice spoke, this time from somewhere else. It was likely that there was only one person in the tree, and she was capable of throwing her voice, so as to obscure her actual location. âInquisition, is it?â Another pause. âWho are you looking for all the way out here?â
Well, this was a start. Estella wasnât sure the answer to this question would do much for them either way, but if the woman wanted to know, there didnât seem to be much for it but telling her. âWeâre looking for a mage, named Cyrus. The last I knew of him, he was out here, but itâs been a while, soâŠâ
Curiously, there was a short, sharp âha!â from above, and then, quite suddenly, a woman appeared, swinging down from a branch and landing directly in front of them. She was obviously Dalish, her valaslin a bright, saturated blue, her long hair quite blonde. Armored more heavily than most of her kind, she wore chain and a few thinner plates as well as leather, but her boots were the soft, supple hide of those that moved quietly whenever possible. A longsword rested on one hip, and her bow was now slung across her back.
Stooping for the arrow, she pulled it out of the ground and placed it back in her quiver. âNow what would a pretty lady like yourself want with that good-for-nothing shem, huh?â But then she squinted a little, her eyes darting over Estellaâs features. âIâll be damned. He said youâd be comingâŠâ She smiled slightly, then shook her head.
âLet down that bubble and follow me. I know exactly where he is.â
Asala instead looked to Estella for an answer. She nodded. âItâs okay.â She wasnât sure how this woman knew where her brother was, but she recognized the tone of the way sheâd spoken about him: frustration, tinged with no small amount of respect. It was a common reaction to Cyrus, and that, more than anything else, convinced her that they spoke of the same person. The shield then faded around them, dispersing from top to bottom as Asala lifted her staff and knocked the clump of dirt loose from the tip. She then waited for Estella to begin to move before keeping step behind her.
Estella walked beside their new guide, curious as to how the Dalish woman knew her brother. She wondered if it was a good time to ask, since she wasnât sure how long this walk would be. In the end, she decided it couldnât hurt. âThank you, by the way. He can be difficult to find, and we didnât have much to go on.â Heâd managed to go undiscovered whenever he wanted to in their childhood, and heâd had only a building to hide in, then. With an area this large, he wouldnât be discovered unless he desired it.
She wasnât sure how it was that he could be expecting them, but then, sheâd put very little past him. âHow is it that you know him, can I ask?â She also felt like it would be polite to ask the womanâs name, but didnât want to bombard her with questions, so she saved that one for now, at least.
The elf shrugged in response. âYou saw it, really. He goes places. I make sure nothing kills him in his sleep.â From the way she said it, there was a little more to it than that, but it was unclear what that might be. At least until she continued. âNever really met anyone like him, but itâs been interesting, to say the least. Iâm Thalia, by the way. Ethendir.â
Their path carried them up over the crest of another hill, and down below, they could see what looked like ruins. It wasnât much, just some white pillars and a staircase, but both led up into what looked like a rough cave entrance. âYouâre lucky you came when you did. Heâs been here a while already, and he probably plans to leave within the next day or two.â She gestured at the cave, then started down the hill, clearly expecting them all to follow.
âAnd donât worry about the spiders. We cleared all those out last week.â
Asala stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait. Sp-Spiders? What ab-about spiders?" The way that her shoulders hunched over and she began to scratch told that they weren't her most favorite creatures.
The grade of the hill was a bit steep, but they made it down without issue, save the time Estella had to stop herself mid-trip on a concealed stone before she tumbled the rest of the way down, but she managed it, though not without nearly turning her ankle. At least she didnât eat any dirt this time. That was something.
The approach into the caveâs mouth was much easier. They entered what looked to be an antechamber of some kindâthough the entrance was rough, these rooms had been carved out of stone with deliberateness, though some of it was now ruined from age and wear. To the left, in front of another doorway, burned a curious sort of wall-mounted torch, curious because the fire was a bluish color, and gave off no heat. Romulus stared at it, pulling back his hood, the light reflecting off of his eyes.
Estella had never seen anything of the kind. âAsala, do you know what that is?â She pointed to the fire.
"Oh, uh, I'm s-sorry, what?" she asked. It seemed tht she'd been too preoccupied staring at the ceiling, no doubt in search of a spider that Thalia and Cyrus may have missed to completely hear Estella. When she saw the torch in question however, she appeared to have realized what had been asked of her. Asala stared into the flame, placing her hand close to it, but not in it.
"It... Is not fire," She stated, her head tilted quizzically, "But I can sense the Fade in it... Magical flames?" It seemed the best she could do.
Thalia shrugged. âIâm pretty sure thatâs how he lit it, yes. This way.â She entered the door flanked by the unusual flames and led them into a short hallway, which eventually opened up into a much larger chamber. The ceiling was vaulted, and had likely been quite smooth at one point, though erosion had worn away at the contours of it. The whole thing was well-lit by more of those flames, set periodically down the side walls of the chamber. They walked around a large platform in the center, and came toward what must have once been an altar of some kind.
Standing with his back to them was a man, discernible as such from his height and the breadth of his shoulders, mostly. He had thick, black hair that fell to his shoulders, and though the color of the light made it hard to tell exactly, it was a fair guess that he was dressed in dark indigo, robes made of some kind of silk or satin to his knees, slit in several places for easier movement, and dark breeches with leather boots. A cloak lay carelessly on the altar itself, as did what appeared to be some kind of spherical device, glowing with a faint green luminescence that threw his shadow long, stretched almost all the way to the western wall.
âOy, shem, I brought you something.â Thaliaâs voice was that same mixture of irritation and apparent camaraderie that it had been before, confirming Estellaâs guess about her thoughts on the man before them.
He turned so that his profile was facing them, then all the way around. His features were aristocratic, from the line of his nose to the shape of his jaw, something slightly different hinted at in the angle of his brow. He also, of course, looked remarkably like a masculine version of Estella herself, and it was her he found first, almost as if heâd known where to look.
He smiled slowly, confidently, and held his arms out to either side. âStellulam.â
She required no further invitation than that. âCy.â She shot forward, her legs taking her unerringly over the intervening distance, and threw herself into his arms, winding hers tightly around his back, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. Sheâd been so worried about this moment, because six years was a long time, and theyâd still been children in many ways, the last time they had seen one another. Letters were one thing, but they couldnât give as good a sense of a person as being with them did.
Estella had feared that he would become someone she did not recognize, feared that, absurd as it was, sheâd become someone he would not recognize. But of course he hadnât, and of course he knew her. He was her brother, her twin, and if there was anyone sheâd always know, it was him. âI canât believe itâs really you.â Her words were muffled against his robes, and she felt herself shedding tears onto them.
His arms locked around her, and he picked her up off the floor with ease, whirling her around several times before setting her back down with exaggerated care. âAnd yet, here I am.â His response was lighter, almost flippant, but she knew him well enough to understand that there was much more to it than that. He released her and gripped her shoulders, stepping half a pace away from her to look her in the face. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs and pressed his lips briefly to her brow.
âI was beginning to grow bored waiting for you to find me, I must admit. I feared that my dear sister had forgotten all about her poor, feckless brother with her sudden ascent to the ranks of Heavenâs mighty chosen, hm?â His tone managed to convey both a characteristic sort of playfulness and a slight skepticism all at once, though there didnât seem to be anything ill-intended in it. âBut here you are, and my faith is restored.â
She smiled despite herself and smacked him in the chest with her open palm. The humor in his voice had centered her, though, and despite the fact that there were a thousand things she wanted to ask about him, wanted to know, she remembered that this was neither the time nor the place, and also that they werenât the only two people in the room. Feeling a hundred times lighter now, she turned back around, so she was facing the same direction he was, namely, the other three.
âRomulus, Asala⊠this is my brother, Cyrus Avenarius, whoâs also a scholar of magic, among⊠other things.â Well, Romulus probably knew that, but she felt an introduction was appropriate anyway, though she always seemed to fall short of describing just exactly what it was Cyrus did, helped along now by the fact that she no longer really knew, exactly. âCy, this is Romulus, and Asala Kaaras. Weâre, well⊠weâre with the Inquisition.â
Romulus clearly recognized Cyrus, and looked entirely unsure of how to respond to being introduced. His eyes met the man's for the briefest of moments, before falling back to the floor. With his hands clasped together in front of him, he settled for bowing his head shortly, and remaining silent. Asala, for her part, simply offered him a tight lipped smile and a small wave. She too had decided to remain silent.
From the huff of amusement perhaps audible only to Estella, Cyrus made his feelings quite clear. âQuite verbose, this Inquisition of yours. Then again, it seems no one is interested in the pleasure of a conversation these days. Certainly none of them.â He waved a hand towards the back of the cave, clearly indicating that he meant some or all of the people crowding up the Hinterlands with battle. The look in his eyes was recognizably sly, and they narrowed with evident interest for a moment on Romulus, leaving no need for speculation as to whether or not heâd recognized the other man. They then flicked to Asala, and his expression eased back into a confident smile.
âWell, I see no need to linger. There are no dreams left for me here.â So saying, he lifted his cloak off the altar and settled it around his shoulders, adjusting the fur-lined hood for a moment before picking up the small glowing object on the table, and tucking it under his arm. âLead on, dear Stellulam. Iâve been wanting a change of scenery.â He nudged her between her shoulderblades, falling easily into step beside her.
She bumped him with her elbow in retaliation, but her happiness was evident, her smile obvious and, while still not what anyone would call a grin, as genuine as it had ever been. It was quite remarkable, how much she could already feel his presence doing wonders for her confidence in their task. Perhaps it was simply because sheâd never known a problem he couldnât solve, a hurdle he could not jump. The evidence had shown her, over and over again, that he was capable of anything he wanted to be, and that gave her hope she could not give herself.
In the meantime, their focus had otherwise remained on the Hinterlands, which seemed to be plagued with enough problems to occupy much of their force for a very long time. There were mages, templars, bandits, some kind of cult, and rumors of rifts further in. Despite this, Estella had suggested diverting at least a small team of them to seek out someone who was not involved with any of it, at least not to her knowledge. Sheâd been⊠sparing, with the details, only pointing out that she knew a very talented mage who might be in the area, but considering how much they could use someone like that, little else was necessary.
She hadnât heard from her brother since before the Conclave, but all of this seemed exactly like the kind of thing he would be able to help with. All this strange magic that she knew nothing about and Asala had to guess atâthat was exactly what Cyrus had always thrived on. Estella also couldnât deny that she was excited by the prospect of seeing him again; almost as excited as she was terrified, really.
The prospect of someone with real expertise in such rare arcane matters wasnât something they could really afford to pass up, and so via messenger bird, sheâd received Leonâs go-ahead to search for him, along with a note from Rilien about where someone interested in old magic might be. Apparently, there were several locations of historical interest in the Hinterlands, and one of them wasnât too far from here. Their route had brought them into direct conflict with one of the more stubborn pockets of bandits, and so they were, at this point, making rather slow progress, fighting their way up the dirt path towards the location her teacher had indicated.
Estella rolled her shoulders when the last bandit fell, trying to ease some of the soreness that had built up over the long days of combat theyâd endured here. The refugee camp wasnât exactly in the safest location, and with the sheer number of potential threats to it, their troops were spread thin as it was. Khari had left several hours earlier to help Donnelly with a pocket of mages trying to sabotage the supply lines, which was quickly starving the refugees and the troops. Maybe Lia and the scouts would be able to replenish the food from the local wildlifeâŠ
She didnât bother putting her sword away this time. Instead, she turned, to look back at Romulus and Asala. âIt shouldnât be too much longer before we get there. The map says itâs this way.â Turning off the road for the first time, Estella struck up a hill. There was more tree cover in this area, but the terrain wasnât difficult, so they kept up a good pace.
They walked for several more minutes in relative quiet, occasionally passing the corpse of another bandit, or evidence of a scuffle between mages and templars. More than the usual amount of these bodies had been struck by arrows, however, though why that was didnât become evident until theyâd been walking for another ten minutes.
At that point, the soft hiss of an arrow passing through air broke the silence, and one struck the ground in front of Estellaâs feet. She took a quick step backwards, scanning the undersides of the trees for the shooter, while Romulus immediately crouched down, and covered the direction the arrow had come from with his shield. âTurn around. Thereâs nothing for you this way, brigands.â The voice, slightly androgynous but identifiable as belonging to a woman, seemed to come from a different direction than the arrow had, making it hard to tell how many people were hidden in the boughs.
Almost immediately after a shield bubble was cast around the three of them, with Asala in the middle and the tip of her staff dug into the dirt.
Estella was glad of the protection, but she also thought maybe thereâd been a misunderstanding here, and if they could correct it, it might not have to end in a fight. Though it probably didnât mean much, considering she was behind a magical shield, she sheathed her saber and held both hands up in the air. âWeâre not bandits,â she said, speaking generally up at the branches overhead, since she wasnât sure which of them were occupied. The leaf cover made it really hard to tell. âNor templars. And we arenât with the mages, either.â It was technically incorrect to say that none of them were mages, and obviously so, considering Asala.
âActually, um, weâre with the Inquisition. Weâre looking for someone.â Sheâd never been any good with knowing what to give away or keep secret, so for the most part, she just erred on the side of telling the truth, and taking the risk of telling too much of it. It seemed to work sometimes, anyway.
There was a period of silence, but then the voice spoke, this time from somewhere else. It was likely that there was only one person in the tree, and she was capable of throwing her voice, so as to obscure her actual location. âInquisition, is it?â Another pause. âWho are you looking for all the way out here?â
Well, this was a start. Estella wasnât sure the answer to this question would do much for them either way, but if the woman wanted to know, there didnât seem to be much for it but telling her. âWeâre looking for a mage, named Cyrus. The last I knew of him, he was out here, but itâs been a while, soâŠâ
Curiously, there was a short, sharp âha!â from above, and then, quite suddenly, a woman appeared, swinging down from a branch and landing directly in front of them. She was obviously Dalish, her valaslin a bright, saturated blue, her long hair quite blonde. Armored more heavily than most of her kind, she wore chain and a few thinner plates as well as leather, but her boots were the soft, supple hide of those that moved quietly whenever possible. A longsword rested on one hip, and her bow was now slung across her back.
Stooping for the arrow, she pulled it out of the ground and placed it back in her quiver. âNow what would a pretty lady like yourself want with that good-for-nothing shem, huh?â But then she squinted a little, her eyes darting over Estellaâs features. âIâll be damned. He said youâd be comingâŠâ She smiled slightly, then shook her head.
âLet down that bubble and follow me. I know exactly where he is.â
Asala instead looked to Estella for an answer. She nodded. âItâs okay.â She wasnât sure how this woman knew where her brother was, but she recognized the tone of the way sheâd spoken about him: frustration, tinged with no small amount of respect. It was a common reaction to Cyrus, and that, more than anything else, convinced her that they spoke of the same person. The shield then faded around them, dispersing from top to bottom as Asala lifted her staff and knocked the clump of dirt loose from the tip. She then waited for Estella to begin to move before keeping step behind her.
Estella walked beside their new guide, curious as to how the Dalish woman knew her brother. She wondered if it was a good time to ask, since she wasnât sure how long this walk would be. In the end, she decided it couldnât hurt. âThank you, by the way. He can be difficult to find, and we didnât have much to go on.â Heâd managed to go undiscovered whenever he wanted to in their childhood, and heâd had only a building to hide in, then. With an area this large, he wouldnât be discovered unless he desired it.
She wasnât sure how it was that he could be expecting them, but then, sheâd put very little past him. âHow is it that you know him, can I ask?â She also felt like it would be polite to ask the womanâs name, but didnât want to bombard her with questions, so she saved that one for now, at least.
The elf shrugged in response. âYou saw it, really. He goes places. I make sure nothing kills him in his sleep.â From the way she said it, there was a little more to it than that, but it was unclear what that might be. At least until she continued. âNever really met anyone like him, but itâs been interesting, to say the least. Iâm Thalia, by the way. Ethendir.â
Their path carried them up over the crest of another hill, and down below, they could see what looked like ruins. It wasnât much, just some white pillars and a staircase, but both led up into what looked like a rough cave entrance. âYouâre lucky you came when you did. Heâs been here a while already, and he probably plans to leave within the next day or two.â She gestured at the cave, then started down the hill, clearly expecting them all to follow.
âAnd donât worry about the spiders. We cleared all those out last week.â
Asala stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait. Sp-Spiders? What ab-about spiders?" The way that her shoulders hunched over and she began to scratch told that they weren't her most favorite creatures.
The grade of the hill was a bit steep, but they made it down without issue, save the time Estella had to stop herself mid-trip on a concealed stone before she tumbled the rest of the way down, but she managed it, though not without nearly turning her ankle. At least she didnât eat any dirt this time. That was something.
The approach into the caveâs mouth was much easier. They entered what looked to be an antechamber of some kindâthough the entrance was rough, these rooms had been carved out of stone with deliberateness, though some of it was now ruined from age and wear. To the left, in front of another doorway, burned a curious sort of wall-mounted torch, curious because the fire was a bluish color, and gave off no heat. Romulus stared at it, pulling back his hood, the light reflecting off of his eyes.
Estella had never seen anything of the kind. âAsala, do you know what that is?â She pointed to the fire.
"Oh, uh, I'm s-sorry, what?" she asked. It seemed tht she'd been too preoccupied staring at the ceiling, no doubt in search of a spider that Thalia and Cyrus may have missed to completely hear Estella. When she saw the torch in question however, she appeared to have realized what had been asked of her. Asala stared into the flame, placing her hand close to it, but not in it.
"It... Is not fire," She stated, her head tilted quizzically, "But I can sense the Fade in it... Magical flames?" It seemed the best she could do.
Thalia shrugged. âIâm pretty sure thatâs how he lit it, yes. This way.â She entered the door flanked by the unusual flames and led them into a short hallway, which eventually opened up into a much larger chamber. The ceiling was vaulted, and had likely been quite smooth at one point, though erosion had worn away at the contours of it. The whole thing was well-lit by more of those flames, set periodically down the side walls of the chamber. They walked around a large platform in the center, and came toward what must have once been an altar of some kind.
Standing with his back to them was a man, discernible as such from his height and the breadth of his shoulders, mostly. He had thick, black hair that fell to his shoulders, and though the color of the light made it hard to tell exactly, it was a fair guess that he was dressed in dark indigo, robes made of some kind of silk or satin to his knees, slit in several places for easier movement, and dark breeches with leather boots. A cloak lay carelessly on the altar itself, as did what appeared to be some kind of spherical device, glowing with a faint green luminescence that threw his shadow long, stretched almost all the way to the western wall.
âOy, shem, I brought you something.â Thaliaâs voice was that same mixture of irritation and apparent camaraderie that it had been before, confirming Estellaâs guess about her thoughts on the man before them.
He turned so that his profile was facing them, then all the way around. His features were aristocratic, from the line of his nose to the shape of his jaw, something slightly different hinted at in the angle of his brow. He also, of course, looked remarkably like a masculine version of Estella herself, and it was her he found first, almost as if heâd known where to look.
He smiled slowly, confidently, and held his arms out to either side. âStellulam.â
She required no further invitation than that. âCy.â She shot forward, her legs taking her unerringly over the intervening distance, and threw herself into his arms, winding hers tightly around his back, pressing her forehead into his shoulder. Sheâd been so worried about this moment, because six years was a long time, and theyâd still been children in many ways, the last time they had seen one another. Letters were one thing, but they couldnât give as good a sense of a person as being with them did.
Estella had feared that he would become someone she did not recognize, feared that, absurd as it was, sheâd become someone he would not recognize. But of course he hadnât, and of course he knew her. He was her brother, her twin, and if there was anyone sheâd always know, it was him. âI canât believe itâs really you.â Her words were muffled against his robes, and she felt herself shedding tears onto them.
His arms locked around her, and he picked her up off the floor with ease, whirling her around several times before setting her back down with exaggerated care. âAnd yet, here I am.â His response was lighter, almost flippant, but she knew him well enough to understand that there was much more to it than that. He released her and gripped her shoulders, stepping half a pace away from her to look her in the face. He brushed away her tears with his thumbs and pressed his lips briefly to her brow.
âI was beginning to grow bored waiting for you to find me, I must admit. I feared that my dear sister had forgotten all about her poor, feckless brother with her sudden ascent to the ranks of Heavenâs mighty chosen, hm?â His tone managed to convey both a characteristic sort of playfulness and a slight skepticism all at once, though there didnât seem to be anything ill-intended in it. âBut here you are, and my faith is restored.â
She smiled despite herself and smacked him in the chest with her open palm. The humor in his voice had centered her, though, and despite the fact that there were a thousand things she wanted to ask about him, wanted to know, she remembered that this was neither the time nor the place, and also that they werenât the only two people in the room. Feeling a hundred times lighter now, she turned back around, so she was facing the same direction he was, namely, the other three.
âRomulus, Asala⊠this is my brother, Cyrus Avenarius, whoâs also a scholar of magic, among⊠other things.â Well, Romulus probably knew that, but she felt an introduction was appropriate anyway, though she always seemed to fall short of describing just exactly what it was Cyrus did, helped along now by the fact that she no longer really knew, exactly. âCy, this is Romulus, and Asala Kaaras. Weâre, well⊠weâre with the Inquisition.â
Romulus clearly recognized Cyrus, and looked entirely unsure of how to respond to being introduced. His eyes met the man's for the briefest of moments, before falling back to the floor. With his hands clasped together in front of him, he settled for bowing his head shortly, and remaining silent. Asala, for her part, simply offered him a tight lipped smile and a small wave. She too had decided to remain silent.
From the huff of amusement perhaps audible only to Estella, Cyrus made his feelings quite clear. âQuite verbose, this Inquisition of yours. Then again, it seems no one is interested in the pleasure of a conversation these days. Certainly none of them.â He waved a hand towards the back of the cave, clearly indicating that he meant some or all of the people crowding up the Hinterlands with battle. The look in his eyes was recognizably sly, and they narrowed with evident interest for a moment on Romulus, leaving no need for speculation as to whether or not heâd recognized the other man. They then flicked to Asala, and his expression eased back into a confident smile.
âWell, I see no need to linger. There are no dreams left for me here.â So saying, he lifted his cloak off the altar and settled it around his shoulders, adjusting the fur-lined hood for a moment before picking up the small glowing object on the table, and tucking it under his arm. âLead on, dear Stellulam. Iâve been wanting a change of scenery.â He nudged her between her shoulderblades, falling easily into step beside her.
She bumped him with her elbow in retaliation, but her happiness was evident, her smile obvious and, while still not what anyone would call a grin, as genuine as it had ever been. It was quite remarkable, how much she could already feel his presence doing wonders for her confidence in their task. Perhaps it was simply because sheâd never known a problem he couldnât solve, a hurdle he could not jump. The evidence had shown her, over and over again, that he was capable of anything he wanted to be, and that gave her hope she could not give herself.