The Inquisition, Cyrus had learned, was far too busy an organization for most of its members to run into each other with any great deal of frequency, unless they chose to seek out one anotherās company. As of the present, he wasnāt one of the people ever particularly sought out, which was actually a novel and interesting experience for him. He was used to being the most popular man in a room, for a wide variety of reasons that usually came down to a combination of three things: his looks, his intelligence, and his power, sometimes but not always in that order. The solitude wasā¦ different, and he may have actually preferred it, most of the time, but he had spent so long in the company of others, whether he liked it or not, that he wasnāt without a certain habitual predilection for it. Sometimes. The tendency was particularly acute whenever he remembered that he should eat something.
The way his teacherāmaster, really, but that word was loaded when spoken from Tevinter lips here in the south and so he did not use itāhad made sure he ate regularly was by requiring his presence in the dining room for at least one meal a day, at the same time as the rest of the household, and so heād grown quite used to supping with others, when he did so at all. It had proven good practice, for certain other aspects of his life, though not any of the ones he considered most important. Certainly not the challenging ones.
Usually when he ate here, there were only one or two others around at most, but this time, the long table in one of the Chantryās side rooms was occupied, not only by himself, but a motley assortment of the othersāEstella, whoād dragged him here to begin with, Leonhardt, the commander, who took up enough space for one and a half ordinary people, and Vesryn, the elf with an interest in history and aā¦ distinctive sense of fashion. Heād swept into the room behind his sisterābecause he was incapable of merely walking anywhereāand settled himself with the ease of someone completely at home in his skin into a spot to her left, across from the commander.
He dished Estella her food first, manners bred and trained into him with long years in the courts of the magisters, before taking his own portions from the modest vessels that lay in the middle of the table. āGood evening Commander, Vesryn.ā He spared each a nod before settling back to eat.
āHello, Cyrus,ā the commander replied first, returning the nod with his customary informality. āThis is a bit of a surprise. I seldom run into you. Have you found accommodations to suit you?ā
Cyrus smiled, the expression more than a little sardonic. āāSuitā is a strong word for a tent, but it will do for the moment.ā Heād roughed it worse before, of course, and this tent was at least one of those meant to stand in one place for longer than a single night, and there was a fair bit of space in it for his various books, both owned and borrowed, as well as the various artifacts and trinkets he carried around with him. He shared with Thalia still, but that was in large part because she didnāt irritate him much and he irritated her less than basically any other human, so it worked out somehow.
Heād even moved a desk into it, so he felt he was quite well-off indeed, compared to most places heād lodged the last couple of years.
There was comfortable silence for a bit, or comfortable for Cyrus, anyway. He didnāt know how anyone else felt about it, and frankly probably wouldnāt care much even if he did know, with one very glaring exception. Eventually, however, his curiosity got the better of him, as it was wont to do, and he glanced back up at Leon. āIāve borrowed several books from the Chantry library; quite the collection, for such a small village. I was most interested on a volume on the Seekers of Truth. Common knowledge in the south, Iām sure, but an institution the Imperium is quite without.ā He lifted his glass; it was filled with a red wine which was pleasant enough, if not excellent. Only the members of the command structure and the commanderās so-called āirregularsā ate here, and while the little luxuries were quite few, he did note their presence.
Taking a sip, he replaced it, his fingers toying absently with the stem. āIs it true you can kill a mage by burning the lyrium right out of his bloodstream?ā He asked the question in a light tone, but one that was clearly only a ruse for the powerful inquisitiveness that undergirded itāCyrus was quite intrigued by this little tidbit heād come across, and since he knew Leon was a Seeker, he saw no reason not to ask directly.
Vesryn, meanwhile, took a long drink from his glass, eyes moving to watch Leon. His brows were quite raised, possibly in mild alarm.
Leonhardt seemed taken aback by the question, and coughed a few times before reaching for his own wineglass, quaffing a few gulps with the inelegance of someone who needed to cleanse his throat, clearing it with a final cough, and blinking several times. āIā¦ ahem. I have no idea what book you managed to find that in,ā he began, sounding somewhat impressed almost despite himself, ābut it isnāt quite that simple.ā He sat back against his chair, sighing through his nose, and then shrugged his broad shoulders.
āAmong the particular abilities of some Seekers is the ability to burn lyrium in the blood, yes, but most of us who can do so are only capable of causing pain with such a technique, not death, and it applies just as much to Templars as mages. Anyone who has consumed lyrium over time, actually. Very rarely, one of us will manifest the ability to, ah, kill with the technique.ā He looked somewhat uncomfortable with the idea, but it was not difficult for someone as astute as Cyrus to figure out which group Leon was in.
āTruthfully, it is most often used for interrogation. It requires a focus few can achieve, and it killsā¦ slowly. If death is the desired end, there are much more merciful methods by which to bring it about.ā He smiled uncomfortably, and beside Cyrus, Estella shifted slightly, betraying her own unease, her eyes gaining a wariness they had not previously had.
āFascinating.ā Cyrus murmured the word in a tone that betrayed the complete genuineness of the sentiment. Of course, he had no cause for fear himself; lyrium was the tool of inferior mages, those who required assistance to enter the Fade, something he obviously did not. He was quite inclined to ask further questions about it, actually, because he did have some interest in lyrium, for its properties if not its practical use to him. āThat suggests almost that youāve interacted with the Fade in some way, though of course the connection between magic and lyrium is ill-understood at best.ā
His sisterās discomfort did not fail to register with him, however, and he shifted the topic slightly in hopes of putting her at ease. āEvidence of consistent lyrium use only appears in those ruins which postdate the fall of Elvhenan, though I believe it was employed in some manner before that time. Of course, I cannot claim to have visited every such ruin; perhaps in time I will discover otherwise.ā
Vesryn set down his cup, swallowing, and shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth. He was indeed sharply dressed, but still appeared more the mercenary than anything else. He didn't dress like a noble, but rather a well paid swordsman, with a bit of flair like he fancied himself a dashing rogue. The lion cloak he seemed fond of wearing was currently draped across the back of his chair.
His manners were not quite as well trained. His elbows were up on the table, and he didn't seem to care about speaking while there was still some food in his mouth. "You've interest in these ruins, then?" He studied Cyrus. "I'm rather fond of them myself. I could share some locations with you." He paused, then smiled, more to himself than anything. "If I were inclined to, of course."
āI suppose you could, were you indeed so inclined.ā Cyrus agreed, his answering smile pleasant, but his eyes sharp. It sounded as though Vesryn was implying that he did not yet have such an inclination, which was fair enough. Those with knowledge were often loath to part with it for free; such was the nature of the most arcane and valuable pieces of information. Those were powerful things to have, after all, and few would give them up readily.
āIf it is any particularā¦ incentive, it may interest you to know that my visits are not merely to the ruins themselves. I am able to see what such places resembled when once they were whole, and on occasion, what events took place there. I have seen the glory of the army of Arlathan, marching to battle, and structures that reached high enough to scrape the clouds.ā His tone was one of clear knowledgeāhe had a great enthusiasm for these dreams he had, and an uncommon ardor for their subject matter. Still, he banked that for the moment, almost like he were pulling something back inside himself that had begun to radiate outwards, and almost physically reset himself in the present. His mind did tend to wander, when he thought of those placesāheād not described the surface of it, even, but he too was jealous with his knowledge, and he would readily admit it.
āYou should see his journals,ā Estella added, glancing askance at him with more obvious warmth than heād received from her since their argument a week prior. āHis drawings are beautiful; itās almost like seeing it myself.ā She smiled tentatively, then looked back down at the crust of bread she was slowly picking apart.
āYouāre somniari. A dreamer.ā That interjection came from Leon, who seemed to be quite willing to participate in the conversation now that the subject had changed. āIād heard the world still had oneāhe was discovered a few years ago. I did not know there were two yet living.ā For a moment, he also abandoned table manners and leaned forward, his academic interest obviously overcoming whatever disdain and wariness Chantry folk were supposed to have for magic. āAre there others, like you?ā
Cyrus laughed, the sound full-throated and rich. āSeeker, there is no one in the world like me. I have gone to great pains to ensure it. But yes. I am one of three recently-known dreamers in the Imperium, and to my knowledge, none reside elsewhere anymore.ā His eyes narrowed slightly. āWhich means that very few exist who can do the research I do. One is dead, now, and likely would not have bothered to begin with. The other is far too young and inexperienced.ā He shrugged a single shoulder. āThere is much to be learned from the past. Someone should learn it, I think, and so here I am.ā It was, of course, considerably more complicated than that, in many respects, but he doubted heād bother defining the intricacies to anyone but himself. One day, Estella would know, too, but not yet.
āI confess, my own studies of magic have had more to do with counteracting it and knowing what to do about demons than anything so historical,ā Leon replied, a thoughtful expression coming over his face, āwhich seems almost mundane by comparison. But surely if youāre in the Fade so often, you contend with those as well? What little information there is on somniari indicates that they are especially prone to temptation by such creatures, due to the power they have within it, and without.ā The implied question was clear enough, but it was not asked suspiciously, merely carefully.
āNever doubt it, commander.ā Cyrusās reply was delivered with levity, but he was in fact completely serious. āDemons court me almost aggressively as some people Iāve met. Itās actually not so differentāthereās an offer Iām not interested in, and then an effort to tell me what I really want. The only difference is, I can actually find some respite from the demons.ā He grinned.
āBut in the case youāre worried about possession, you need not be. I am far too fond of my face to allow one of those to corrupt it the way they do.ā
āThat would be your reason.ā Estella looked back up, and shoved his shoulder with a hand, not hard enough to actually risk dislodging him in case he was unprepared, but in the manner sheād done a thousand times before. It was familiar, and perhaps a sign that things were returning to some state of equilibrium between them.
āWell, itās a reason.ā Cyrus returned the gesture with a look of mock hurt. āChief among them, of course, being that I could never abandon my dear sister to the dreary fate of a world without her wonderful, generous, doting brother who loves her so.ā He tried to keep his face straight, but as usual, his disguises failed in her company, and the lopsided grin that broke over his visage was pure mischief.
āArenāt I just the luckiest girl in the world?ā she drawled dryly in response. But there was no mistaking the fact that she was grinning too, now.
Vesryn leaned his head upon one of his hands, a silly smile worked into place. "D'awww."
āI know, I know. Weāre adorable.ā But she was smiling, and so he was lifted. All was right with the world, for now, and he would savor it.
The way his teacherāmaster, really, but that word was loaded when spoken from Tevinter lips here in the south and so he did not use itāhad made sure he ate regularly was by requiring his presence in the dining room for at least one meal a day, at the same time as the rest of the household, and so heād grown quite used to supping with others, when he did so at all. It had proven good practice, for certain other aspects of his life, though not any of the ones he considered most important. Certainly not the challenging ones.
Usually when he ate here, there were only one or two others around at most, but this time, the long table in one of the Chantryās side rooms was occupied, not only by himself, but a motley assortment of the othersāEstella, whoād dragged him here to begin with, Leonhardt, the commander, who took up enough space for one and a half ordinary people, and Vesryn, the elf with an interest in history and aā¦ distinctive sense of fashion. Heād swept into the room behind his sisterābecause he was incapable of merely walking anywhereāand settled himself with the ease of someone completely at home in his skin into a spot to her left, across from the commander.
He dished Estella her food first, manners bred and trained into him with long years in the courts of the magisters, before taking his own portions from the modest vessels that lay in the middle of the table. āGood evening Commander, Vesryn.ā He spared each a nod before settling back to eat.
āHello, Cyrus,ā the commander replied first, returning the nod with his customary informality. āThis is a bit of a surprise. I seldom run into you. Have you found accommodations to suit you?ā
Cyrus smiled, the expression more than a little sardonic. āāSuitā is a strong word for a tent, but it will do for the moment.ā Heād roughed it worse before, of course, and this tent was at least one of those meant to stand in one place for longer than a single night, and there was a fair bit of space in it for his various books, both owned and borrowed, as well as the various artifacts and trinkets he carried around with him. He shared with Thalia still, but that was in large part because she didnāt irritate him much and he irritated her less than basically any other human, so it worked out somehow.
Heād even moved a desk into it, so he felt he was quite well-off indeed, compared to most places heād lodged the last couple of years.
There was comfortable silence for a bit, or comfortable for Cyrus, anyway. He didnāt know how anyone else felt about it, and frankly probably wouldnāt care much even if he did know, with one very glaring exception. Eventually, however, his curiosity got the better of him, as it was wont to do, and he glanced back up at Leon. āIāve borrowed several books from the Chantry library; quite the collection, for such a small village. I was most interested on a volume on the Seekers of Truth. Common knowledge in the south, Iām sure, but an institution the Imperium is quite without.ā He lifted his glass; it was filled with a red wine which was pleasant enough, if not excellent. Only the members of the command structure and the commanderās so-called āirregularsā ate here, and while the little luxuries were quite few, he did note their presence.
Taking a sip, he replaced it, his fingers toying absently with the stem. āIs it true you can kill a mage by burning the lyrium right out of his bloodstream?ā He asked the question in a light tone, but one that was clearly only a ruse for the powerful inquisitiveness that undergirded itāCyrus was quite intrigued by this little tidbit heād come across, and since he knew Leon was a Seeker, he saw no reason not to ask directly.
Vesryn, meanwhile, took a long drink from his glass, eyes moving to watch Leon. His brows were quite raised, possibly in mild alarm.
Leonhardt seemed taken aback by the question, and coughed a few times before reaching for his own wineglass, quaffing a few gulps with the inelegance of someone who needed to cleanse his throat, clearing it with a final cough, and blinking several times. āIā¦ ahem. I have no idea what book you managed to find that in,ā he began, sounding somewhat impressed almost despite himself, ābut it isnāt quite that simple.ā He sat back against his chair, sighing through his nose, and then shrugged his broad shoulders.
āAmong the particular abilities of some Seekers is the ability to burn lyrium in the blood, yes, but most of us who can do so are only capable of causing pain with such a technique, not death, and it applies just as much to Templars as mages. Anyone who has consumed lyrium over time, actually. Very rarely, one of us will manifest the ability to, ah, kill with the technique.ā He looked somewhat uncomfortable with the idea, but it was not difficult for someone as astute as Cyrus to figure out which group Leon was in.
āTruthfully, it is most often used for interrogation. It requires a focus few can achieve, and it killsā¦ slowly. If death is the desired end, there are much more merciful methods by which to bring it about.ā He smiled uncomfortably, and beside Cyrus, Estella shifted slightly, betraying her own unease, her eyes gaining a wariness they had not previously had.
āFascinating.ā Cyrus murmured the word in a tone that betrayed the complete genuineness of the sentiment. Of course, he had no cause for fear himself; lyrium was the tool of inferior mages, those who required assistance to enter the Fade, something he obviously did not. He was quite inclined to ask further questions about it, actually, because he did have some interest in lyrium, for its properties if not its practical use to him. āThat suggests almost that youāve interacted with the Fade in some way, though of course the connection between magic and lyrium is ill-understood at best.ā
His sisterās discomfort did not fail to register with him, however, and he shifted the topic slightly in hopes of putting her at ease. āEvidence of consistent lyrium use only appears in those ruins which postdate the fall of Elvhenan, though I believe it was employed in some manner before that time. Of course, I cannot claim to have visited every such ruin; perhaps in time I will discover otherwise.ā
Vesryn set down his cup, swallowing, and shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth. He was indeed sharply dressed, but still appeared more the mercenary than anything else. He didn't dress like a noble, but rather a well paid swordsman, with a bit of flair like he fancied himself a dashing rogue. The lion cloak he seemed fond of wearing was currently draped across the back of his chair.
His manners were not quite as well trained. His elbows were up on the table, and he didn't seem to care about speaking while there was still some food in his mouth. "You've interest in these ruins, then?" He studied Cyrus. "I'm rather fond of them myself. I could share some locations with you." He paused, then smiled, more to himself than anything. "If I were inclined to, of course."
āI suppose you could, were you indeed so inclined.ā Cyrus agreed, his answering smile pleasant, but his eyes sharp. It sounded as though Vesryn was implying that he did not yet have such an inclination, which was fair enough. Those with knowledge were often loath to part with it for free; such was the nature of the most arcane and valuable pieces of information. Those were powerful things to have, after all, and few would give them up readily.
āIf it is any particularā¦ incentive, it may interest you to know that my visits are not merely to the ruins themselves. I am able to see what such places resembled when once they were whole, and on occasion, what events took place there. I have seen the glory of the army of Arlathan, marching to battle, and structures that reached high enough to scrape the clouds.ā His tone was one of clear knowledgeāhe had a great enthusiasm for these dreams he had, and an uncommon ardor for their subject matter. Still, he banked that for the moment, almost like he were pulling something back inside himself that had begun to radiate outwards, and almost physically reset himself in the present. His mind did tend to wander, when he thought of those placesāheād not described the surface of it, even, but he too was jealous with his knowledge, and he would readily admit it.
āYou should see his journals,ā Estella added, glancing askance at him with more obvious warmth than heād received from her since their argument a week prior. āHis drawings are beautiful; itās almost like seeing it myself.ā She smiled tentatively, then looked back down at the crust of bread she was slowly picking apart.
āYouāre somniari. A dreamer.ā That interjection came from Leon, who seemed to be quite willing to participate in the conversation now that the subject had changed. āIād heard the world still had oneāhe was discovered a few years ago. I did not know there were two yet living.ā For a moment, he also abandoned table manners and leaned forward, his academic interest obviously overcoming whatever disdain and wariness Chantry folk were supposed to have for magic. āAre there others, like you?ā
Cyrus laughed, the sound full-throated and rich. āSeeker, there is no one in the world like me. I have gone to great pains to ensure it. But yes. I am one of three recently-known dreamers in the Imperium, and to my knowledge, none reside elsewhere anymore.ā His eyes narrowed slightly. āWhich means that very few exist who can do the research I do. One is dead, now, and likely would not have bothered to begin with. The other is far too young and inexperienced.ā He shrugged a single shoulder. āThere is much to be learned from the past. Someone should learn it, I think, and so here I am.ā It was, of course, considerably more complicated than that, in many respects, but he doubted heād bother defining the intricacies to anyone but himself. One day, Estella would know, too, but not yet.
āI confess, my own studies of magic have had more to do with counteracting it and knowing what to do about demons than anything so historical,ā Leon replied, a thoughtful expression coming over his face, āwhich seems almost mundane by comparison. But surely if youāre in the Fade so often, you contend with those as well? What little information there is on somniari indicates that they are especially prone to temptation by such creatures, due to the power they have within it, and without.ā The implied question was clear enough, but it was not asked suspiciously, merely carefully.
āNever doubt it, commander.ā Cyrusās reply was delivered with levity, but he was in fact completely serious. āDemons court me almost aggressively as some people Iāve met. Itās actually not so differentāthereās an offer Iām not interested in, and then an effort to tell me what I really want. The only difference is, I can actually find some respite from the demons.ā He grinned.
āBut in the case youāre worried about possession, you need not be. I am far too fond of my face to allow one of those to corrupt it the way they do.ā
āThat would be your reason.ā Estella looked back up, and shoved his shoulder with a hand, not hard enough to actually risk dislodging him in case he was unprepared, but in the manner sheād done a thousand times before. It was familiar, and perhaps a sign that things were returning to some state of equilibrium between them.
āWell, itās a reason.ā Cyrus returned the gesture with a look of mock hurt. āChief among them, of course, being that I could never abandon my dear sister to the dreary fate of a world without her wonderful, generous, doting brother who loves her so.ā He tried to keep his face straight, but as usual, his disguises failed in her company, and the lopsided grin that broke over his visage was pure mischief.
āArenāt I just the luckiest girl in the world?ā she drawled dryly in response. But there was no mistaking the fact that she was grinning too, now.
Vesryn leaned his head upon one of his hands, a silly smile worked into place. "D'awww."
āI know, I know. Weāre adorable.ā But she was smiling, and so he was lifted. All was right with the world, for now, and he would savor it.