Vesryn's first inclination was that Skyhold was under attack. But there were no alarms being raised, no troops being called to the battlements.
And who would be such a fool as to attack them here? Skyhold was virtually impregnable while it had even a token of its forces guarding it, let alone the entirety of the Inquisition's standing army. But Vesryn knew what he'd heard. One of the towers nearly collapsing in on itself, having taken serious damage from something. The skies were clear, no wings of lyrium-corrupted dragons beating against the winds. No siege equipment could get remotely close enough to attack the walls without being spotted by any of Lia's scouts or even the bulk of Inquisition forces. That meant the attack came from within, if indeed it was an attack at all.
He'd been driven outside of the Herald's Rest alongside Zahra by the disturbance, to see the Commander's man, Reed, heading straight for the keep. He was certainly moving like they were under attack, but considering how he made no effort to warn anyone else, that couldn't have been the case. Even from here, Vesryn could see the damage, the tower in the distance, its roof struggling to stay upright, precariously wavering. Cyrus's tower.
"I think I'll be getting my gear, Captain Zahra," he said, turning back into the Herald's Rest. If she wanted to do the same that was up to her. Darting upstairs, he donned his equipment as quickly as he ever had, a process which he'd learned to expedite over years of practice. Anything that could be thrown on while walking was saved for later, and he exited the tavern once more with bardiche axe in hand, just in time to see Reed returning across the grounds, leading Stel behind him. Zahra had taken his advice to heart. She’d been hot on his heels, though their routes deviated once they were inside the tavern. Now donning her gear and bow, she stopped at his elbow, staring off across the grounds.
"Looks like trouble if I've ever seen it," he murmured to Zahra, before noticing someone approaching from the training grounds. "Stay put, Astraia. At least until we know what's going on." The young elf didn't seem happy about it, but for once Vesryn's tone was stern with her, leaving no room for argument. Vesryn wouldn't accept any trying to keep him in place, though, and quickly followed after Stel and Reed, Zahra keeping up behind him.
"What's happened?" he asked, hoping either Stel or Reed could elaborate.
Stel shook her head, face tight with unconcealed concern. Her eyes kept moving to Cyrus's tower. Though she made no move to run in that direction, it wasn't hard to see that she very much wanted to. “I don't—I don't know." Her eyes swung for a moment to Reed, just now swinging the door to the Commander's tower open for them to climb the stairs up to Leon's office.
He grimaced; this close it was easier to see that he looked faintly ill. "It's Lord Cyrus, Lady Inquisitor. He's... he's alive, but something happened. I don't know all the details. They're bringing him here, I'm sure, so we'll know soon enough."
Leon's office, however, was yet empty when they reached it. It looked like the Commander had left in a hurry: an inkwell sat unstoppered on the desk, several parchments abandoned in the middle of the writing, and his chair was pushed out at an odd angle. All certainly things a man as fastidious as Leon would have noticed and corrected before departing if he'd had even a few moments to do it.
Stel certainly noticed. No sooner had they entered the office proper than she started to pace back and forth at a nervous rate. “Was it one of his experiments, do you think? He's had a few accidents before with more volatile things, but nothing like—" She cut herself off and shook her head. It was clear that Reed didn't really know how to answer, though he looked like he wanted to say something, at least.
Vesryn thought it would've been nice if the man could've scrounged up a few more words for her, give her some idea of what they were dealing with. Vesryn wasn't just going to let her pace about and worry herself senseless, at any rate. "Hey," he said, laying a hand somewhat firmly on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Cyrus will know what we need to do. He always does." Though whether or not he could actually communicate that to them remained to be seen. When the only description of his status that could be given was "alive," that threw a bit of doubt in there. But they would find out soon enough.
Any further speculation was precluded by the sound of a door opening. It proved to be the one furthest from them, one of the two that led out onto the walls. Leon was the first in, bearing what seemed to be the vast majority of Cyrus's weight. The mage looked like death only slightly warmed over, in truth. His hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his head, normally-fair complexion gone absent of almost any color and waxy. His eyes seemed sunken, almost hollow, and his movements were those of an invalid.
He grunted quietly as Leon helped him into a chair, collapsing into it with none of his usual inherent grace. Asala filed in behind them. Actually, in certain ways, all three of them seemed worse for wear, though none were nearly as badly off as Cyrus himself.
“Cyrus!" Stel immediately stepped out from under Vesryn's hand and hurried to his side. Leon moved away to give them space, breathing a heavy sigh that didn't seem to have much to do with the labor of carrying the other man over at least some of Skyhold's battlements.
Stel sat on the arm of the chair he was in, laying one palm softly against her brother's cheek, using the other to brush his hair back from his face, heedless of its state. Resting the back of her knuckles against his brow for a moment, as though checking for fever or something similar, she swallowed thickly and closed her eyes, exhaling a shaky breath before cracking them back open again. “What happened to you? Cy..."
“He was poisoned," Leon answered, folding his thick arms over his chest. The commander looked quite unsettled, disturbed by something in particular, but he was doing a good job keeping it from seeping into his tone. “Red lyrium. Livia did it, apparently, and fled with some of his notes." He paused a moment, then, running a hand down his face, and turned to his aide.
“Assemble the off-duty guards. Comb the place for her. She can't have gotten far—the scouts would have noticed her leave, at the least. Inform Rilien and Lady Marceline as well, but keep a lid on the rest of it for now." Reed nodded and left with haste.
"Livia?" Vesryn asked, shocked. "The serving girl? With red lyrium? She... hasn't she always been with us? Even before Haven fell?" He'd seen her not long ago, attending to Cyrus. If she'd gained his trust for that long, she must've had hundreds of chances to try to kill him. But if she'd fled with some of his notes, he must've reached some point in his research she needed to wait for. Even Saraya was annoyed with herself, for not suspecting anything.
“She has." That answer came from Cyrus. His voice wasn't exactly robust, rather raw at the edges like someone suffering a winter illness of some sort. But he was at least understandable. He reached up, laying his hand over the back of Stel's and gently moving it away from his face. He held onto it though, resting both on her knee. “I've known her even longer, at that, but I didn't..." He shook his head slightly. “It doesn't matter. The important thing is, the notes she took were my research on the Breach. If Corypheus gets hold of them, he might not need the Anchors to open another."
He paused then, more of necessity than desire, to pull in several more deep breaths. His hand flexed around Stel's, his other gripping the opposite arm of the chair much tighter. “She won't have fled by conventional means. She planned this long in advance. There's an escape route, and it has to be one available to her here as much as it would have been at Haven."
“Then what unconventional means would she have used?" Leon frowned, his brows knitting together. “I can believe she might have known about the path out of Haven, but Skyhold is a fortress. There are no tunnels, and the gate is the only way out or in, unless you believe she flew somehow." He leaned heavily back against his desk, weariness in evidence by the slight slump in his shoulders.
Cyrus actually managed to smile thinly at that, but it was a rather poor excuse for one. “Nothing so fantastical." He tipped his head back against the chair, gulping down more air. He seemed to be recovering a bit of his color, at least. “I know of only one way to do something like this. She'd have to have access to an eluvian."
Vesryn had to blink a few times with the force of recognition that word provided from Saraya. That said, he knew it too, though his understanding of elven magical tools paled in comparison to Saraya's. Still, he knew enough about what they were and what the elves used them for to frown in confusion at Cyrus's estimation. "An eluvian? Here, in Skyhold? Wouldn't someone have... noticed such a thing by now?" He'd only ever come across shattered eluvians, portals in various states of decay ranging from the cracked and useless to the utterly destroyed. Saraya looked upon them with the same sort of longing she looked on many artifacts of the elves, but the eluvians in particular were... quite valuable, and though Vesryn himself had no magic with which to operate them, he suspected she always hoped they might find one that could be activated by another.
Now, after having traveled to the Fade physically and suffered the repercussions, he wasn't sure he wanted to see one. But any fears he might've had were irrelevant if Corypheus was involved. He couldn't be allowed to tear another devastating hole in the world. "As I understand, an active eluvian would be quite... bright. And they're no small portals, either. There aren't that many hidden rooms in Skyhold. Surely we would've found it if one were here."
“Quite." Cyrus exhaled heavily, making an effort to sit up straighter in his chair. “But Leta—Livia is a mage. If someone taught her how to activate one, she wouldn't need more than a few minutes to do it. And an inactive eluvian would resemble little more than a very large, very shiny mirror. Not so difficult to store in the basement levels somewhere with all kinds of other things we're not using. Especially if she covered it like an ordinary piece of furniture."
“Ah—” an involuntary noise sounded as Zahra’s gaze flicked back onto Cyrus’ rumpled figure. From the moment she’d stepped into the room, her eyebrows had been pinched with concern but now… she looked truly puzzled. The word eluvian hadn’t evoked any reaction, but the word mirror certainly had. She planted a hands on her hip, and scratched at her chin. “A shiny mirror?” She cleared her throat and slowly nodded her head as if to scrounge up a memory, “Actually, I found a fancy one while… uh, taking one of my walks.”
Even if any of them had spotted her meandering Skyhold’s nooks and crannies, bottle tucked underneath her armpit, she didn’t seem willing to divulge that particular detail. Not that it was all that surprising given her aptitude for adventure and trouble. “In one of the basements. Sort of out of the way—and I didn’t touch it.”
That got Cyrus's attention, even weary as he was. “We need to go there—now. Can you take us?" He struggled to stand, bracing himself as well as he could on the arms of the chair and trying to regain his feet. Stel immediately moved to support him, draping one of his arms over her shoulders and winding one of hers about his waist.
“Of course—follow me,” Zahra seemed to understand the gravity of the situation quickly enough. Perhaps, it had been the insistent look splayed across Cyrus’ features. She turned on her heels, and beckoned them to follow her as she slipped out the door. It hadn’t taken her very long to retrace her steps, even though she was now doing it sober. Mostly sober, possibly. She led them through dusty, dank hallways, and evidently unused corridors, until they reached one particular room with a large mirror inside, leaning up against the cobblestone walls.
Whatever had been draped across it had been removed. A white sheet had been tossed to the side, rumpled into a pile. Possibly indicating that Zahra had indeed touched it. She cleared her throat and swept a hand in front of her, stepping aside to allow the others inside.
If the eluvian had been concealed before, it was no longer so, and it did indeed look active, glimmering with some kind of internal, bluish light. It stood out sharply from its dull surroundings, like the relic from another time it truly was.
Cyrus, doing his best to stand under his own power, kept one hand on Stel's shoulder nevertheless, gently guiding both of them closer to it. Reaching out with his free hand, he touched the surface with a fingertip. It rippled, but there was clearly a solid barrier there. “Ah. It requires a password. I'd heard some of them do..." He turned his head to meet Leon's eyes. “You're going to want to put a guard on this until we come back through it. I doubt very much you want anyone entering Skyhold from who-knows-where."
Leon seemed to agree. “I'll look after it myself, if necessary." Pursing his lips, he considered the group for a moment. “Captain Zahra, would you be so kind as to find Rilien and bring him here? I believe that would be a start. I suspect, however, that the rest of you won't want to delay. I don't know how these work, but she's had about an hour's worth of head start, in any case."
Zahra murmured something about the quiet fellow in the rookery before nodding her head and taking a step backwards. The thoughtful frown hadn’t left her face. For someone who was capable of cracking jokes at the most bleak, inopportune times, she seemed to be unequipped by what had happened. She paused at the threshold of the hall and glanced over her shoulder, “Do be careful. I’ll have a welcoming party when you get back here.”
Her footfalls clattered down the hallway until they receded into silence.
“Cyrus, are you sure you should be here?" Stel didn't look particularly thrilled that he was down here in the first place. Actually, she seemed quite worried, and kept her arm firmly around his waist despite the fact that he currently seemed to be able stand with less support than that. “You need to rest."
“I'm... quite aware, Stellulam." His tone was a bit strained, but he managed to make it at least somewhat light regardless. “But yes, I should be here. Especially considering I'm the only one who has the faintest idea what the password is. And, I suspect, the only one who has been to the world between before." He glanced at Vesryn when he said so, and lifted his shoulders. “Besides. They're my notes, and I'm the only one who would know the real ones from gibberish." He gritted his teeth for a moment, fighting off some lingering pain, perhaps, then exhaled softly.
“If the Commander is keeping watch here, who else is coming?"
It took a glance around her, but Asala raised her hand while the other clutched her collar. She'd had been silent since she had followed Cyrus and Leon into his office, and her skin also had a paleness to it. Eventually, she spoke, "I will."
He probably didn't need to ask. The situation was concerning for Saraya, of course, but still she couldn't restrain all of her excitement. It was a marvel, to look at the eluvian active and whole, after all this time. It was fortunate none of the many occupiers of Skyhold in the past ended up destroying it, even by accident. Cyrus was correct in his estimation that he was the only one present who had been on the other side of one of these, though Vesryn was certain that Saraya had as well, in ages past. Maybe she would be able to help guide them where they needed to go, maybe not. Either way, it was a risk Vesryn had to take.
"I wouldn't miss it," he said, trying to insert a modicum of levity into his words. "And neither would Saraya. We're ready to help, whatever it takes."
“You're not going in there without me, either," Stel confirmed.
Cyrus gave a weary nod, but his smile wasn't so false this time. “I see. Very well then. Stellulam, I would like to borrow your knife, if I may. My magic is not... it would be unwise for me to try using it in this state." Considering he'd just been dosed with something especially deadly to mages, that wasn't especially surprising. When she handed it over, he slid it into his belt and went to touch the mirror again, resting all five fingertips upon it and closing his eyes.
His face twisted for a moment with something like pain. “Milo." The word was a soft murmur, but the reaction it produced in the eluvian was immediate. The surface rippled like water, and Cyrus's hand sank in up to the wrist in it. He opened his eyes and swallowed. Even he, it seemed, could not quite escape a certain excitement to be using the artifact in this way. “Here we go."
He stepped forward, and the mirror engulfed both he and Estella.
Asala gave Vesryn an unsure smile before she turned toward the mirror and took the first steps through.
Vesryn glanced sidelong at Leon. "Hope the other end of this isn't situated at a cliff's edge or something."
A joke. Mostly. Stepping forward, Vesryn raised the back of his hand to the surface, slowing letting it fall in. It was much warmer than he expected it to be, but not at all uncomfortable. He let the hand linger, teasing it as best as he could. At least until Saraya urged him in with a hefty amount of annoyance. "Alright, alright. Going." He grinned to himself, stepping on through.
He was met with bright light, like he'd suddenly stepped out under the midday sun. He had to shield his eyes, but only for a moment. They adjusted with an unnatural speed, and he was met with an array of vibrant colors. The most noticeable was the soft, pinkish red of the tree leaves, which were in full bloom, one tree planted at nearly every interval of a dozen or so paces. The sky was covered by a soft layer of clouds, not as midday or as sunny as he'd expected, but it was beneficial more than anything. The air itself was pleasant, clean and crisp as any he'd taken in off the battlements of Skyhold.
The area around them was urban, more or less, but in the remains of an old elven style that simply no longer existed in Thedas. Smoothly paved streets crafted with magic rather than hand labor of thousands, with statues of what may have been gold dotting the paths on either side. Elegant, abstract designs, some of them eluded Vesryn entirely, while others seemed shaped more like trees or even fire or water locked in place. There were buildings, but most of them had collapsed to some degree, and none remaining were more than a story or two tall. He could see several more eluvians in the distance, each shaped in their own unique designs, no two alike here. They came in pairs, one here and one in the world he'd just left behind. It was magnificent to look at, and Vesryn immediately found himself forgetting the trouble that had brought him here in the first place.
Saraya was not so quick, and urged him into focus. Her reaction was mixed, and powerfully so. She recognized this place, at least a little. Perhaps she simply knew how to navigate it more than he did. Something swelled within her at the sight of it, a vague bit of longing, homesickness even. But it was tinged with undeniable sadness. That sorrow of loss that the Dalish claimed to know all too well.
"This place is a shadow of what it once was," he said, though he imagined there were greater things to be concerned with. "Still, it's beautiful."
"I... do not understand," Asala stated, looking at Vesryn with confusion in her eyes. She drew them away and appeared to gaze at the landscape once more before she shook her head, and readjusted the cloak over her shoulders. She seemed to be feeling some sort of mild discomfort--more than was usual, actually. "It is all so... gray, monotone. Cold even," she then blinked, and when they didn't work, rubbed her eyes though it appeared that did just as much good. "And murky, everything is so murky."
It was Stel's turn to look confused, though she didn't stop to consider it. Clearly, her focus was more on helping Cyrus guide them, following his lead as they moved through the ruined city. “Monotone? But there are so many colors..." She glanced at her brother, clearly expecting that he would be able to explain.
He seemed uncomfortable, though whether that was due to the pain he was still in or the nature of the discussion was hard to tell. It wasn't easy to discern what about their observations would be uncomfortable, anyway. “It's not the same for everyone." He turned his eyes back onto the path at their feet, though they lingered for a moment on a statue before he tore them away. “See those eluvians up ahead? We need to get close to them. The ones that look like they work, anyway. Might be some clue as to which she used."
"Who is she?" Asala asked as they followed Cyrus and Estella. Vesryn noticed that the woman continued to blink and squint, as if attempting to force color onto her landscape, and from her reactions, it seemed that she was failing. "Livia, I mean. She seemed so... nice, when we studied. Why would she do this?"
“She's..." Cyrus kept his eyes firmly fixed in front of him, squinting at the first eluvian they came upon. It didn't look like anyone had been near it recently, clearly—the foliage at its base was undisturbed, for one. He shook his head, and they moved on.
“She was a friend, once. A long time ago. I suspect she did this because she's working for Corypheus, and has been from the start. She would not have turned down an opportunity to take revenge on me. Not... not after what I did." He slumped a little against Stel.
Vesryn was only half-listening, he had to admit. Serious though it was, he was a bit too distracted by the sights, the gentle sounds, the feel of this place. He felt wonderful. Rested, rejuvenated. Not that he'd been particularly tired, but the strain had been a little higher than usual with his old friends near. Saraya, though, had been rather fixated on something she found curious, and eventually it managed to pull Vesryn's attention forward, to Stel. And Cyrus as well, he supposed. Something they'd said? None of it stood out as odd to him at the moment. Perhaps it would occur to him later.
"Not something particularly pleasant, I take it?" He tried to ask the question with a layer of caution, as he thought Cyrus's hesitance in saying it came from more than just his weariness. In any case, if they did find and catch Livia, they would probably find out from her, if Cyrus didn't want to share it himself.
Cyrus sighed heavily, moving them past another eluvian. “No." It took him several more steps to spit it out, though. “I murdered Milo. Her brother." A heartbeat of silence, then: “I think that's the one we want."
And who would be such a fool as to attack them here? Skyhold was virtually impregnable while it had even a token of its forces guarding it, let alone the entirety of the Inquisition's standing army. But Vesryn knew what he'd heard. One of the towers nearly collapsing in on itself, having taken serious damage from something. The skies were clear, no wings of lyrium-corrupted dragons beating against the winds. No siege equipment could get remotely close enough to attack the walls without being spotted by any of Lia's scouts or even the bulk of Inquisition forces. That meant the attack came from within, if indeed it was an attack at all.
He'd been driven outside of the Herald's Rest alongside Zahra by the disturbance, to see the Commander's man, Reed, heading straight for the keep. He was certainly moving like they were under attack, but considering how he made no effort to warn anyone else, that couldn't have been the case. Even from here, Vesryn could see the damage, the tower in the distance, its roof struggling to stay upright, precariously wavering. Cyrus's tower.
"I think I'll be getting my gear, Captain Zahra," he said, turning back into the Herald's Rest. If she wanted to do the same that was up to her. Darting upstairs, he donned his equipment as quickly as he ever had, a process which he'd learned to expedite over years of practice. Anything that could be thrown on while walking was saved for later, and he exited the tavern once more with bardiche axe in hand, just in time to see Reed returning across the grounds, leading Stel behind him. Zahra had taken his advice to heart. She’d been hot on his heels, though their routes deviated once they were inside the tavern. Now donning her gear and bow, she stopped at his elbow, staring off across the grounds.
"Looks like trouble if I've ever seen it," he murmured to Zahra, before noticing someone approaching from the training grounds. "Stay put, Astraia. At least until we know what's going on." The young elf didn't seem happy about it, but for once Vesryn's tone was stern with her, leaving no room for argument. Vesryn wouldn't accept any trying to keep him in place, though, and quickly followed after Stel and Reed, Zahra keeping up behind him.
"What's happened?" he asked, hoping either Stel or Reed could elaborate.
Stel shook her head, face tight with unconcealed concern. Her eyes kept moving to Cyrus's tower. Though she made no move to run in that direction, it wasn't hard to see that she very much wanted to. “I don't—I don't know." Her eyes swung for a moment to Reed, just now swinging the door to the Commander's tower open for them to climb the stairs up to Leon's office.
He grimaced; this close it was easier to see that he looked faintly ill. "It's Lord Cyrus, Lady Inquisitor. He's... he's alive, but something happened. I don't know all the details. They're bringing him here, I'm sure, so we'll know soon enough."
Leon's office, however, was yet empty when they reached it. It looked like the Commander had left in a hurry: an inkwell sat unstoppered on the desk, several parchments abandoned in the middle of the writing, and his chair was pushed out at an odd angle. All certainly things a man as fastidious as Leon would have noticed and corrected before departing if he'd had even a few moments to do it.
Stel certainly noticed. No sooner had they entered the office proper than she started to pace back and forth at a nervous rate. “Was it one of his experiments, do you think? He's had a few accidents before with more volatile things, but nothing like—" She cut herself off and shook her head. It was clear that Reed didn't really know how to answer, though he looked like he wanted to say something, at least.
Vesryn thought it would've been nice if the man could've scrounged up a few more words for her, give her some idea of what they were dealing with. Vesryn wasn't just going to let her pace about and worry herself senseless, at any rate. "Hey," he said, laying a hand somewhat firmly on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Cyrus will know what we need to do. He always does." Though whether or not he could actually communicate that to them remained to be seen. When the only description of his status that could be given was "alive," that threw a bit of doubt in there. But they would find out soon enough.
Any further speculation was precluded by the sound of a door opening. It proved to be the one furthest from them, one of the two that led out onto the walls. Leon was the first in, bearing what seemed to be the vast majority of Cyrus's weight. The mage looked like death only slightly warmed over, in truth. His hair was soaked with sweat and plastered to his head, normally-fair complexion gone absent of almost any color and waxy. His eyes seemed sunken, almost hollow, and his movements were those of an invalid.
He grunted quietly as Leon helped him into a chair, collapsing into it with none of his usual inherent grace. Asala filed in behind them. Actually, in certain ways, all three of them seemed worse for wear, though none were nearly as badly off as Cyrus himself.
“Cyrus!" Stel immediately stepped out from under Vesryn's hand and hurried to his side. Leon moved away to give them space, breathing a heavy sigh that didn't seem to have much to do with the labor of carrying the other man over at least some of Skyhold's battlements.
Stel sat on the arm of the chair he was in, laying one palm softly against her brother's cheek, using the other to brush his hair back from his face, heedless of its state. Resting the back of her knuckles against his brow for a moment, as though checking for fever or something similar, she swallowed thickly and closed her eyes, exhaling a shaky breath before cracking them back open again. “What happened to you? Cy..."
“He was poisoned," Leon answered, folding his thick arms over his chest. The commander looked quite unsettled, disturbed by something in particular, but he was doing a good job keeping it from seeping into his tone. “Red lyrium. Livia did it, apparently, and fled with some of his notes." He paused a moment, then, running a hand down his face, and turned to his aide.
“Assemble the off-duty guards. Comb the place for her. She can't have gotten far—the scouts would have noticed her leave, at the least. Inform Rilien and Lady Marceline as well, but keep a lid on the rest of it for now." Reed nodded and left with haste.
"Livia?" Vesryn asked, shocked. "The serving girl? With red lyrium? She... hasn't she always been with us? Even before Haven fell?" He'd seen her not long ago, attending to Cyrus. If she'd gained his trust for that long, she must've had hundreds of chances to try to kill him. But if she'd fled with some of his notes, he must've reached some point in his research she needed to wait for. Even Saraya was annoyed with herself, for not suspecting anything.
“She has." That answer came from Cyrus. His voice wasn't exactly robust, rather raw at the edges like someone suffering a winter illness of some sort. But he was at least understandable. He reached up, laying his hand over the back of Stel's and gently moving it away from his face. He held onto it though, resting both on her knee. “I've known her even longer, at that, but I didn't..." He shook his head slightly. “It doesn't matter. The important thing is, the notes she took were my research on the Breach. If Corypheus gets hold of them, he might not need the Anchors to open another."
He paused then, more of necessity than desire, to pull in several more deep breaths. His hand flexed around Stel's, his other gripping the opposite arm of the chair much tighter. “She won't have fled by conventional means. She planned this long in advance. There's an escape route, and it has to be one available to her here as much as it would have been at Haven."
“Then what unconventional means would she have used?" Leon frowned, his brows knitting together. “I can believe she might have known about the path out of Haven, but Skyhold is a fortress. There are no tunnels, and the gate is the only way out or in, unless you believe she flew somehow." He leaned heavily back against his desk, weariness in evidence by the slight slump in his shoulders.
Cyrus actually managed to smile thinly at that, but it was a rather poor excuse for one. “Nothing so fantastical." He tipped his head back against the chair, gulping down more air. He seemed to be recovering a bit of his color, at least. “I know of only one way to do something like this. She'd have to have access to an eluvian."
Vesryn had to blink a few times with the force of recognition that word provided from Saraya. That said, he knew it too, though his understanding of elven magical tools paled in comparison to Saraya's. Still, he knew enough about what they were and what the elves used them for to frown in confusion at Cyrus's estimation. "An eluvian? Here, in Skyhold? Wouldn't someone have... noticed such a thing by now?" He'd only ever come across shattered eluvians, portals in various states of decay ranging from the cracked and useless to the utterly destroyed. Saraya looked upon them with the same sort of longing she looked on many artifacts of the elves, but the eluvians in particular were... quite valuable, and though Vesryn himself had no magic with which to operate them, he suspected she always hoped they might find one that could be activated by another.
Now, after having traveled to the Fade physically and suffered the repercussions, he wasn't sure he wanted to see one. But any fears he might've had were irrelevant if Corypheus was involved. He couldn't be allowed to tear another devastating hole in the world. "As I understand, an active eluvian would be quite... bright. And they're no small portals, either. There aren't that many hidden rooms in Skyhold. Surely we would've found it if one were here."
“Quite." Cyrus exhaled heavily, making an effort to sit up straighter in his chair. “But Leta—Livia is a mage. If someone taught her how to activate one, she wouldn't need more than a few minutes to do it. And an inactive eluvian would resemble little more than a very large, very shiny mirror. Not so difficult to store in the basement levels somewhere with all kinds of other things we're not using. Especially if she covered it like an ordinary piece of furniture."
“Ah—” an involuntary noise sounded as Zahra’s gaze flicked back onto Cyrus’ rumpled figure. From the moment she’d stepped into the room, her eyebrows had been pinched with concern but now… she looked truly puzzled. The word eluvian hadn’t evoked any reaction, but the word mirror certainly had. She planted a hands on her hip, and scratched at her chin. “A shiny mirror?” She cleared her throat and slowly nodded her head as if to scrounge up a memory, “Actually, I found a fancy one while… uh, taking one of my walks.”
Even if any of them had spotted her meandering Skyhold’s nooks and crannies, bottle tucked underneath her armpit, she didn’t seem willing to divulge that particular detail. Not that it was all that surprising given her aptitude for adventure and trouble. “In one of the basements. Sort of out of the way—and I didn’t touch it.”
That got Cyrus's attention, even weary as he was. “We need to go there—now. Can you take us?" He struggled to stand, bracing himself as well as he could on the arms of the chair and trying to regain his feet. Stel immediately moved to support him, draping one of his arms over her shoulders and winding one of hers about his waist.
“Of course—follow me,” Zahra seemed to understand the gravity of the situation quickly enough. Perhaps, it had been the insistent look splayed across Cyrus’ features. She turned on her heels, and beckoned them to follow her as she slipped out the door. It hadn’t taken her very long to retrace her steps, even though she was now doing it sober. Mostly sober, possibly. She led them through dusty, dank hallways, and evidently unused corridors, until they reached one particular room with a large mirror inside, leaning up against the cobblestone walls.
Whatever had been draped across it had been removed. A white sheet had been tossed to the side, rumpled into a pile. Possibly indicating that Zahra had indeed touched it. She cleared her throat and swept a hand in front of her, stepping aside to allow the others inside.
If the eluvian had been concealed before, it was no longer so, and it did indeed look active, glimmering with some kind of internal, bluish light. It stood out sharply from its dull surroundings, like the relic from another time it truly was.
Cyrus, doing his best to stand under his own power, kept one hand on Stel's shoulder nevertheless, gently guiding both of them closer to it. Reaching out with his free hand, he touched the surface with a fingertip. It rippled, but there was clearly a solid barrier there. “Ah. It requires a password. I'd heard some of them do..." He turned his head to meet Leon's eyes. “You're going to want to put a guard on this until we come back through it. I doubt very much you want anyone entering Skyhold from who-knows-where."
Leon seemed to agree. “I'll look after it myself, if necessary." Pursing his lips, he considered the group for a moment. “Captain Zahra, would you be so kind as to find Rilien and bring him here? I believe that would be a start. I suspect, however, that the rest of you won't want to delay. I don't know how these work, but she's had about an hour's worth of head start, in any case."
Zahra murmured something about the quiet fellow in the rookery before nodding her head and taking a step backwards. The thoughtful frown hadn’t left her face. For someone who was capable of cracking jokes at the most bleak, inopportune times, she seemed to be unequipped by what had happened. She paused at the threshold of the hall and glanced over her shoulder, “Do be careful. I’ll have a welcoming party when you get back here.”
Her footfalls clattered down the hallway until they receded into silence.
“Cyrus, are you sure you should be here?" Stel didn't look particularly thrilled that he was down here in the first place. Actually, she seemed quite worried, and kept her arm firmly around his waist despite the fact that he currently seemed to be able stand with less support than that. “You need to rest."
“I'm... quite aware, Stellulam." His tone was a bit strained, but he managed to make it at least somewhat light regardless. “But yes, I should be here. Especially considering I'm the only one who has the faintest idea what the password is. And, I suspect, the only one who has been to the world between before." He glanced at Vesryn when he said so, and lifted his shoulders. “Besides. They're my notes, and I'm the only one who would know the real ones from gibberish." He gritted his teeth for a moment, fighting off some lingering pain, perhaps, then exhaled softly.
“If the Commander is keeping watch here, who else is coming?"
It took a glance around her, but Asala raised her hand while the other clutched her collar. She'd had been silent since she had followed Cyrus and Leon into his office, and her skin also had a paleness to it. Eventually, she spoke, "I will."
He probably didn't need to ask. The situation was concerning for Saraya, of course, but still she couldn't restrain all of her excitement. It was a marvel, to look at the eluvian active and whole, after all this time. It was fortunate none of the many occupiers of Skyhold in the past ended up destroying it, even by accident. Cyrus was correct in his estimation that he was the only one present who had been on the other side of one of these, though Vesryn was certain that Saraya had as well, in ages past. Maybe she would be able to help guide them where they needed to go, maybe not. Either way, it was a risk Vesryn had to take.
"I wouldn't miss it," he said, trying to insert a modicum of levity into his words. "And neither would Saraya. We're ready to help, whatever it takes."
“You're not going in there without me, either," Stel confirmed.
Cyrus gave a weary nod, but his smile wasn't so false this time. “I see. Very well then. Stellulam, I would like to borrow your knife, if I may. My magic is not... it would be unwise for me to try using it in this state." Considering he'd just been dosed with something especially deadly to mages, that wasn't especially surprising. When she handed it over, he slid it into his belt and went to touch the mirror again, resting all five fingertips upon it and closing his eyes.
His face twisted for a moment with something like pain. “Milo." The word was a soft murmur, but the reaction it produced in the eluvian was immediate. The surface rippled like water, and Cyrus's hand sank in up to the wrist in it. He opened his eyes and swallowed. Even he, it seemed, could not quite escape a certain excitement to be using the artifact in this way. “Here we go."
He stepped forward, and the mirror engulfed both he and Estella.
Asala gave Vesryn an unsure smile before she turned toward the mirror and took the first steps through.
Vesryn glanced sidelong at Leon. "Hope the other end of this isn't situated at a cliff's edge or something."
A joke. Mostly. Stepping forward, Vesryn raised the back of his hand to the surface, slowing letting it fall in. It was much warmer than he expected it to be, but not at all uncomfortable. He let the hand linger, teasing it as best as he could. At least until Saraya urged him in with a hefty amount of annoyance. "Alright, alright. Going." He grinned to himself, stepping on through.
He was met with bright light, like he'd suddenly stepped out under the midday sun. He had to shield his eyes, but only for a moment. They adjusted with an unnatural speed, and he was met with an array of vibrant colors. The most noticeable was the soft, pinkish red of the tree leaves, which were in full bloom, one tree planted at nearly every interval of a dozen or so paces. The sky was covered by a soft layer of clouds, not as midday or as sunny as he'd expected, but it was beneficial more than anything. The air itself was pleasant, clean and crisp as any he'd taken in off the battlements of Skyhold.
The area around them was urban, more or less, but in the remains of an old elven style that simply no longer existed in Thedas. Smoothly paved streets crafted with magic rather than hand labor of thousands, with statues of what may have been gold dotting the paths on either side. Elegant, abstract designs, some of them eluded Vesryn entirely, while others seemed shaped more like trees or even fire or water locked in place. There were buildings, but most of them had collapsed to some degree, and none remaining were more than a story or two tall. He could see several more eluvians in the distance, each shaped in their own unique designs, no two alike here. They came in pairs, one here and one in the world he'd just left behind. It was magnificent to look at, and Vesryn immediately found himself forgetting the trouble that had brought him here in the first place.
Saraya was not so quick, and urged him into focus. Her reaction was mixed, and powerfully so. She recognized this place, at least a little. Perhaps she simply knew how to navigate it more than he did. Something swelled within her at the sight of it, a vague bit of longing, homesickness even. But it was tinged with undeniable sadness. That sorrow of loss that the Dalish claimed to know all too well.
"This place is a shadow of what it once was," he said, though he imagined there were greater things to be concerned with. "Still, it's beautiful."
"I... do not understand," Asala stated, looking at Vesryn with confusion in her eyes. She drew them away and appeared to gaze at the landscape once more before she shook her head, and readjusted the cloak over her shoulders. She seemed to be feeling some sort of mild discomfort--more than was usual, actually. "It is all so... gray, monotone. Cold even," she then blinked, and when they didn't work, rubbed her eyes though it appeared that did just as much good. "And murky, everything is so murky."
It was Stel's turn to look confused, though she didn't stop to consider it. Clearly, her focus was more on helping Cyrus guide them, following his lead as they moved through the ruined city. “Monotone? But there are so many colors..." She glanced at her brother, clearly expecting that he would be able to explain.
He seemed uncomfortable, though whether that was due to the pain he was still in or the nature of the discussion was hard to tell. It wasn't easy to discern what about their observations would be uncomfortable, anyway. “It's not the same for everyone." He turned his eyes back onto the path at their feet, though they lingered for a moment on a statue before he tore them away. “See those eluvians up ahead? We need to get close to them. The ones that look like they work, anyway. Might be some clue as to which she used."
"Who is she?" Asala asked as they followed Cyrus and Estella. Vesryn noticed that the woman continued to blink and squint, as if attempting to force color onto her landscape, and from her reactions, it seemed that she was failing. "Livia, I mean. She seemed so... nice, when we studied. Why would she do this?"
“She's..." Cyrus kept his eyes firmly fixed in front of him, squinting at the first eluvian they came upon. It didn't look like anyone had been near it recently, clearly—the foliage at its base was undisturbed, for one. He shook his head, and they moved on.
“She was a friend, once. A long time ago. I suspect she did this because she's working for Corypheus, and has been from the start. She would not have turned down an opportunity to take revenge on me. Not... not after what I did." He slumped a little against Stel.
Vesryn was only half-listening, he had to admit. Serious though it was, he was a bit too distracted by the sights, the gentle sounds, the feel of this place. He felt wonderful. Rested, rejuvenated. Not that he'd been particularly tired, but the strain had been a little higher than usual with his old friends near. Saraya, though, had been rather fixated on something she found curious, and eventually it managed to pull Vesryn's attention forward, to Stel. And Cyrus as well, he supposed. Something they'd said? None of it stood out as odd to him at the moment. Perhaps it would occur to him later.
"Not something particularly pleasant, I take it?" He tried to ask the question with a layer of caution, as he thought Cyrus's hesitance in saying it came from more than just his weariness. In any case, if they did find and catch Livia, they would probably find out from her, if Cyrus didn't want to share it himself.
Cyrus sighed heavily, moving them past another eluvian. “No." It took him several more steps to spit it out, though. “I murdered Milo. Her brother." A heartbeat of silence, then: “I think that's the one we want."