Estella hit the ground hard, rolling several times before she came to a stop in just enough time to watch three people disappear into the rend in the air, both like and entirely unlike a rift, and though she was forced to cover her ears, she regained her feet as she did, such that by the time it stopped, she was standing again.
For a moment, there was utter silence, or perhaps sheâd simply lost the ability to register sound. In any case, she waited what seemed like an eternity for them to reappear, to drop back from the spot like it was all one of Cyrusâs grand jokes, something theyâd laugh about later while she insisted she hadnât been fooled.
But though she counted her heartbeats, her breath still in her chest, they did not return. âCyrusâŠâ It was hardly more than a whisper, but time seemed to snap back into place as she said it, and suddenly she could hear again, and the fight was back on. It was extremely difficult to make herself care in just that moment, however.
âCyrus!â It was a ragged shout that time, raw and agonized, and she was halfway through a step towards the dais when someone answered.
âNow, now, Stellulam. No need to shout; I can hear you just fine.â From one of the sides of the room, her brother himself, alongside Romulus and Chryseis, stepped out from behind the line of columns to the right. He wore a broad, almost triumphant smile, and that and the glint in his eyes was rather rare, because it seemed tempered by something, not as haphazard as such expressions had been before. With an almost lazy flick of his fingers, he blasted away the few Venatori standing between themselves and her, and then crossed the intervening distance with a quick Fade-step.
âCy? Whatâ?â Estella had no idea what had happened, but it would seem that in any case her unvoiced prayers had been answered, and she sent fervent thanks to whoever was listening to begin with. If it hadn't been the middle of an armed confrontation, sheâd have hugged him, and she wanted to anyway, but restrained herself for the sake of necessity. She did smile at him, though, shaking her head faintly at his usual lofty mannerisms and his very unusual expression alike.
âRemind me to tell you how I did this, when itâs all over.â His tone was light, but his expression was not, and it was easy enough for her to tell that something was really getting to him. This was clearly neither the time nor the place to discuss it, however, and he turned his eyes towards Cassius, where he stood now near the entrance to the room.
âYouâve failed, old man. Iâve outdone you. Again.â What under other circumstances could have been anything from factual to arrogant to possibly even lighthearted sounded much graver, in the sonorous modulation he used to deliver it, and Cyrus stepped slightly away from Estella, materializing a weapon in his left hand. âCall off your dogs. There need only be one more death here.â It wasnât hard to guess whose he meant, either.
At the sudden reappearance of those heâd banished but moments before, Cassius seemed to know he was defeated. The strategy had been a good one, unfortunately thwarted by the ill luck of his former pupil being caught up in it instead of the second Herald, but it was clear that he had less left than he needed, that opening the tear had taken a good deal out of him. The Venatori were dying around him anywayâthe reappearance of their Herald and his allies had put the wind back in the Inquisitionâs sails, and they were rallying, regaining the advantage that had been theirs with the ambush.
And yet despite the obvious disadvantage this had put him at, Cassius was apparently reluctant to surrender. In the end, however, he did. âAll right, then. Have it your way, Cyrus. You always did insist upon it. Cease!â The command, he shouted to his men, who were trained and obedient enough to do just that, abruptly stopping and sheathing their weapons, though they were generally prevented from doing much more than that by the equally-trained blades of the Inquisition, which predictably did not see the need to trust the Magister at his word, and reinforced the Venatori submission with edges and points skirting throats, backs, and similarly-vulnerable areas.
It was now, effectively, a hostage situation in addition to a near-rout.
âGive me one reason, Cassius. One reason I shouldnât kill you where you stand.â Cyrusâs glance shifted to Estella for only a moment, but then he tightened his jaw and moved it back to his teacher.
âDonât.â The response, swift and sure, came not from Cassius, but Estella, who reached forward and laid her right hand on Cyrusâs left forearm, a gentle and entirely surmountable barrier to him raising his sword. Despite that, she believed heâd stay his hand if she asked him to, assuming she could ask in the right way. He seemed particularly intent on this, and she didnât know why. âCyrus, thereâs nothing else he can do. Youâve defeated his magic, and the Inquisition has defeated his soldiers. We came here to free the other mages, remember?â She hoped the reference to his own accomplishment would put him in a better frame of mindâfor lack of a better phrase, she was playing to her brotherâs ego, hoping that heâd take it as enough of a victory that heâd done that much.
She would have thought itâd be unquestionably enoughâCyrus liked to win, of course, but sheâd never known him to be a violent person. She could only assume that something was really bothering him, which meant that if he acted from that now, heâd regret it later. Besides, there really wasnât any reason to kill Cassius, not really. All heâd done was tryâunsuccessfully, nowâto indenture some people with terms theyâd agreed to, and then attacked the Inquisition, which was admittedly part of what the Inquisition had come here prepared to do to him. Looking at it that way, she wasnât sure heâd done anything wrong, whatever his intentions might have been.
âPlease.â
âYou havenât seen what I saw.â His reply was soft, perhaps even hollow. The arm under her hand slowly relaxed though, and he let her guide it back down to his side, the Fade-weapon flickering a few times before it disappeared entirely, leaving him empty-handed. Cyrus shook his head slightly.
âDo what you will, Stellulam, but do not underestimate the danger he still poses you.â
That was well enough for him to say, and she was relieved that heâd apparently abandoned the notion of actually killing Cassius, but what exactly they should do with him instead was still a pressing question, and not one she felt qualified to answer. Instead, she turned to Lady Marceline and Rilien, expecting them to have a better idea than she did of what should be done. Chryseis observed the exchange with obvious interest, from where she stood nearby. She'd visibly relaxed when Cyrus had refused to decide her father's fate himself, but if she had a strong desire to sway the Inquisition's decision, she clearly wasn't acting on it.
Lady Marceline, tucking her bloodied hankerchief back into a pocket, raised a hand and signalled for Lia. When the woman approached, Marceline spoke. "If you would be so kind as to fetch Ser Leon and a contigent of guards, I would see Lord Cassius placed into our custody for the time being." As she spoke, her clean rapier rested on her shoulder, Marceline appearing uncomfortable with the idea of returning it to its sheath. "Agreed, Ser Rilien?"
Rilien, whoâd already tucked his knives away at his lower back, nodded in the sanguine fashion typical of him. âFor the moment.â
Cassius himself seemed disinclined to resist, perhaps even a little relieved now that his immediate death seemed to have been taken off the table, though there was no mistake that the look he shot Cyrus and Estella was one of calculation. âAs you wish, then.â His tone was carefully neutral, almost as bled of emotion as Rilienâs own. Cyrusâs lip curled, but he protested no further.
Chryseis exhaled, stepping over towards Marceline. "I appreciate your ability to remain sensible, Lady Marceline. This is not a decision to be made so close to the heat of battle." She turned, nodding briefly to Estella. "You as well, Estella. Your brother and I went through... a great deal, to return here." Romulus, having finished wiping the blood from his blade, returned to her side. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm her words, if nothing else. It shared the same hollowness that Cyrus carried.
Another reference to the fact that something important had transpired while they were gone. Estella wasnât sure she could make sense of itâthough the moment had seemed to stretch for minutes to her, it hadnât really been that long. Then again, it was time magic of some kindâshe had no idea what might have passed for them while so little did for her. In the end, she only smiled thinly and nodded. âItâs, ah⊠donât mention it.â Her mouth thinned, her eyes flickering to Romulus, before a noise from behind drew her attention, and she turned to see Leon entering, with a contingent of Inquisition troops. They must have already been on their way up, to be here now. Perhaps he had anticipated something going wrong, or perhaps theyâd simply taken more time than he was comfortable waiting.
Whatever the case was, it didnât take much more than a few minutes before Cassius was being led away in irons by the troops, with particular attention paid to the bonds so he couldnât cast, though from the look of him, she wasnât sure if he had the energy left for that regardless.
Also among those who had entered was Fiona, who looked around at the room full of dead Venatori and blanched slightly. âYouâre, um⊠well, youâre not indentured to Magister Cassius anymore,â Estella explained, though maybe that was already obvious.
Fiona recovered quickly, to her credit, and nodded. âI⊠yes, thank you. But this does present a new set of problems. I doubt very much the king will allow us to remain in Redcliffe after a Magister chased out the Arl. We cannot stay here, either.â She made careful eye contact with Estella, who sighed under her breath, but inclined her head.
âWell, ah⊠with regard to that, I believe the Inquisition is in a position to give your people somewhere to stay, if youâre willing to help us close the Breach.â Honestly, she was inclined to offer as much regardless, but she had a feeling that wouldn't go over too well with, say, Lady Marceline.
"It is not as though you possess any other option." Marceline still had not sheathed her rapier, instead she held it point down into the throne room's stone floor, her hands resting on top of the basket. Her facial expression was even and hard, that of a woman who would get what she desired, no matter the cost. She glanced at Estella, whom she held in a gaze for a moment, before returning to Fiona with a hard stare. "The mages will recieve room and board in return for aid in closing the breach, as the Lady Herald said," However, there was an implied but at the end of the statement.
"However, considering the quality of your recent judgements, the Inquisition will take command of the Free Mages. You shall be relegated to an advisory position," Marceline said with authority. Eventually, her stoney exterior cracked a bit with a sigh and a tilt of her head. "I can assure you, the Inquisition is fair in its dealings, and the mages will face no such mistreatment from the rest of our forces. It is a much better option than your previous employer." A polite term for master.
"Agreed?"
âIt is as you say,â Fiona replied, heavily. âWe have no choice.â
As if the end of the matter were some kind of signal, Cyrus slumped heavily against Estellaâs side, a soft groan escaping him as he struggled to keep his feet under him. Whatever had been propelling him up until this point had obviously run out, and now that the immediate danger had passed, he was in clear danger of collapse. His eyelids fluttered, but thankfully, he didnât quite pass out, having apparently enough strength yet to aid her in supporting his weight.
âAre we done, then?â He muttered it almost incoherently, quietly enough that probably only she could make out the actual words.
Estella immediately pushed back on his weight, solidifying herself under him, maneuvering one of his arms across her shoulders, and wrapping one of her own around his waist. She couldnât even begin to imagine the amount of magic it had taken to reverse Cassiusâs spell, but still his state was alarming to her. She wasnât sure sheâd ever seen him look so utterly spent before, and felt a spike of worry spear its way into her chest. When she spoke, though, she kept her tone gentle, reassuring.
âYes, Cyrus. Weâre done now.â
For a moment, there was utter silence, or perhaps sheâd simply lost the ability to register sound. In any case, she waited what seemed like an eternity for them to reappear, to drop back from the spot like it was all one of Cyrusâs grand jokes, something theyâd laugh about later while she insisted she hadnât been fooled.
But though she counted her heartbeats, her breath still in her chest, they did not return. âCyrusâŠâ It was hardly more than a whisper, but time seemed to snap back into place as she said it, and suddenly she could hear again, and the fight was back on. It was extremely difficult to make herself care in just that moment, however.
âCyrus!â It was a ragged shout that time, raw and agonized, and she was halfway through a step towards the dais when someone answered.
âNow, now, Stellulam. No need to shout; I can hear you just fine.â From one of the sides of the room, her brother himself, alongside Romulus and Chryseis, stepped out from behind the line of columns to the right. He wore a broad, almost triumphant smile, and that and the glint in his eyes was rather rare, because it seemed tempered by something, not as haphazard as such expressions had been before. With an almost lazy flick of his fingers, he blasted away the few Venatori standing between themselves and her, and then crossed the intervening distance with a quick Fade-step.
âCy? Whatâ?â Estella had no idea what had happened, but it would seem that in any case her unvoiced prayers had been answered, and she sent fervent thanks to whoever was listening to begin with. If it hadn't been the middle of an armed confrontation, sheâd have hugged him, and she wanted to anyway, but restrained herself for the sake of necessity. She did smile at him, though, shaking her head faintly at his usual lofty mannerisms and his very unusual expression alike.
âRemind me to tell you how I did this, when itâs all over.â His tone was light, but his expression was not, and it was easy enough for her to tell that something was really getting to him. This was clearly neither the time nor the place to discuss it, however, and he turned his eyes towards Cassius, where he stood now near the entrance to the room.
âYouâve failed, old man. Iâve outdone you. Again.â What under other circumstances could have been anything from factual to arrogant to possibly even lighthearted sounded much graver, in the sonorous modulation he used to deliver it, and Cyrus stepped slightly away from Estella, materializing a weapon in his left hand. âCall off your dogs. There need only be one more death here.â It wasnât hard to guess whose he meant, either.
At the sudden reappearance of those heâd banished but moments before, Cassius seemed to know he was defeated. The strategy had been a good one, unfortunately thwarted by the ill luck of his former pupil being caught up in it instead of the second Herald, but it was clear that he had less left than he needed, that opening the tear had taken a good deal out of him. The Venatori were dying around him anywayâthe reappearance of their Herald and his allies had put the wind back in the Inquisitionâs sails, and they were rallying, regaining the advantage that had been theirs with the ambush.
And yet despite the obvious disadvantage this had put him at, Cassius was apparently reluctant to surrender. In the end, however, he did. âAll right, then. Have it your way, Cyrus. You always did insist upon it. Cease!â The command, he shouted to his men, who were trained and obedient enough to do just that, abruptly stopping and sheathing their weapons, though they were generally prevented from doing much more than that by the equally-trained blades of the Inquisition, which predictably did not see the need to trust the Magister at his word, and reinforced the Venatori submission with edges and points skirting throats, backs, and similarly-vulnerable areas.
It was now, effectively, a hostage situation in addition to a near-rout.
âGive me one reason, Cassius. One reason I shouldnât kill you where you stand.â Cyrusâs glance shifted to Estella for only a moment, but then he tightened his jaw and moved it back to his teacher.
âDonât.â The response, swift and sure, came not from Cassius, but Estella, who reached forward and laid her right hand on Cyrusâs left forearm, a gentle and entirely surmountable barrier to him raising his sword. Despite that, she believed heâd stay his hand if she asked him to, assuming she could ask in the right way. He seemed particularly intent on this, and she didnât know why. âCyrus, thereâs nothing else he can do. Youâve defeated his magic, and the Inquisition has defeated his soldiers. We came here to free the other mages, remember?â She hoped the reference to his own accomplishment would put him in a better frame of mindâfor lack of a better phrase, she was playing to her brotherâs ego, hoping that heâd take it as enough of a victory that heâd done that much.
She would have thought itâd be unquestionably enoughâCyrus liked to win, of course, but sheâd never known him to be a violent person. She could only assume that something was really bothering him, which meant that if he acted from that now, heâd regret it later. Besides, there really wasnât any reason to kill Cassius, not really. All heâd done was tryâunsuccessfully, nowâto indenture some people with terms theyâd agreed to, and then attacked the Inquisition, which was admittedly part of what the Inquisition had come here prepared to do to him. Looking at it that way, she wasnât sure heâd done anything wrong, whatever his intentions might have been.
âPlease.â
âYou havenât seen what I saw.â His reply was soft, perhaps even hollow. The arm under her hand slowly relaxed though, and he let her guide it back down to his side, the Fade-weapon flickering a few times before it disappeared entirely, leaving him empty-handed. Cyrus shook his head slightly.
âDo what you will, Stellulam, but do not underestimate the danger he still poses you.â
That was well enough for him to say, and she was relieved that heâd apparently abandoned the notion of actually killing Cassius, but what exactly they should do with him instead was still a pressing question, and not one she felt qualified to answer. Instead, she turned to Lady Marceline and Rilien, expecting them to have a better idea than she did of what should be done. Chryseis observed the exchange with obvious interest, from where she stood nearby. She'd visibly relaxed when Cyrus had refused to decide her father's fate himself, but if she had a strong desire to sway the Inquisition's decision, she clearly wasn't acting on it.
Lady Marceline, tucking her bloodied hankerchief back into a pocket, raised a hand and signalled for Lia. When the woman approached, Marceline spoke. "If you would be so kind as to fetch Ser Leon and a contigent of guards, I would see Lord Cassius placed into our custody for the time being." As she spoke, her clean rapier rested on her shoulder, Marceline appearing uncomfortable with the idea of returning it to its sheath. "Agreed, Ser Rilien?"
Rilien, whoâd already tucked his knives away at his lower back, nodded in the sanguine fashion typical of him. âFor the moment.â
Cassius himself seemed disinclined to resist, perhaps even a little relieved now that his immediate death seemed to have been taken off the table, though there was no mistake that the look he shot Cyrus and Estella was one of calculation. âAs you wish, then.â His tone was carefully neutral, almost as bled of emotion as Rilienâs own. Cyrusâs lip curled, but he protested no further.
Chryseis exhaled, stepping over towards Marceline. "I appreciate your ability to remain sensible, Lady Marceline. This is not a decision to be made so close to the heat of battle." She turned, nodding briefly to Estella. "You as well, Estella. Your brother and I went through... a great deal, to return here." Romulus, having finished wiping the blood from his blade, returned to her side. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm her words, if nothing else. It shared the same hollowness that Cyrus carried.
Another reference to the fact that something important had transpired while they were gone. Estella wasnât sure she could make sense of itâthough the moment had seemed to stretch for minutes to her, it hadnât really been that long. Then again, it was time magic of some kindâshe had no idea what might have passed for them while so little did for her. In the end, she only smiled thinly and nodded. âItâs, ah⊠donât mention it.â Her mouth thinned, her eyes flickering to Romulus, before a noise from behind drew her attention, and she turned to see Leon entering, with a contingent of Inquisition troops. They must have already been on their way up, to be here now. Perhaps he had anticipated something going wrong, or perhaps theyâd simply taken more time than he was comfortable waiting.
Whatever the case was, it didnât take much more than a few minutes before Cassius was being led away in irons by the troops, with particular attention paid to the bonds so he couldnât cast, though from the look of him, she wasnât sure if he had the energy left for that regardless.
Also among those who had entered was Fiona, who looked around at the room full of dead Venatori and blanched slightly. âYouâre, um⊠well, youâre not indentured to Magister Cassius anymore,â Estella explained, though maybe that was already obvious.
Fiona recovered quickly, to her credit, and nodded. âI⊠yes, thank you. But this does present a new set of problems. I doubt very much the king will allow us to remain in Redcliffe after a Magister chased out the Arl. We cannot stay here, either.â She made careful eye contact with Estella, who sighed under her breath, but inclined her head.
âWell, ah⊠with regard to that, I believe the Inquisition is in a position to give your people somewhere to stay, if youâre willing to help us close the Breach.â Honestly, she was inclined to offer as much regardless, but she had a feeling that wouldn't go over too well with, say, Lady Marceline.
"It is not as though you possess any other option." Marceline still had not sheathed her rapier, instead she held it point down into the throne room's stone floor, her hands resting on top of the basket. Her facial expression was even and hard, that of a woman who would get what she desired, no matter the cost. She glanced at Estella, whom she held in a gaze for a moment, before returning to Fiona with a hard stare. "The mages will recieve room and board in return for aid in closing the breach, as the Lady Herald said," However, there was an implied but at the end of the statement.
"However, considering the quality of your recent judgements, the Inquisition will take command of the Free Mages. You shall be relegated to an advisory position," Marceline said with authority. Eventually, her stoney exterior cracked a bit with a sigh and a tilt of her head. "I can assure you, the Inquisition is fair in its dealings, and the mages will face no such mistreatment from the rest of our forces. It is a much better option than your previous employer." A polite term for master.
"Agreed?"
âIt is as you say,â Fiona replied, heavily. âWe have no choice.â
As if the end of the matter were some kind of signal, Cyrus slumped heavily against Estellaâs side, a soft groan escaping him as he struggled to keep his feet under him. Whatever had been propelling him up until this point had obviously run out, and now that the immediate danger had passed, he was in clear danger of collapse. His eyelids fluttered, but thankfully, he didnât quite pass out, having apparently enough strength yet to aid her in supporting his weight.
âAre we done, then?â He muttered it almost incoherently, quietly enough that probably only she could make out the actual words.
Estella immediately pushed back on his weight, solidifying herself under him, maneuvering one of his arms across her shoulders, and wrapping one of her own around his waist. She couldnât even begin to imagine the amount of magic it had taken to reverse Cassiusâs spell, but still his state was alarming to her. She wasnât sure sheâd ever seen him look so utterly spent before, and felt a spike of worry spear its way into her chest. When she spoke, though, she kept her tone gentle, reassuring.
âYes, Cyrus. Weâre done now.â