Chapter Text
They were Theodosia’s fellow Magisters once.
Some she respected, some she despised. Most earn their seat by being born to someone already in power. Some began with the intention to change Tevinter, only for the pressure to live up to their predecessor’s legacy to wear them and their values down.
Daylight burst through arched windows that stretched to the ceiling, casting across her brown skin, greying hair and dark purple coat. Her heeled footsteps echoed across the shimmering grey and maroon tiles. Magister Carina stood beside Magister Decimus, facing the window, dark silhouettes cast by the light. More figures passed her by as if she wasn’t there, their richly dyed robes swaying as they entered and emerged from halls and offices seemingly comprised of darkness.
That was something Theodosia always found here - blinding light and impenetrable shadow.
The air had changed the day she walked in and Magister Tilani was gone. They weren’t close friends by any means - it was dangerous to be friends with anyone in this place. Maevaris, however, indeed brought an understanding Minrathous had otherwise never seen. One could feel her absence, even now.
Theodosia had walked through these corridors filled with visions of the future. Ten years of her life - spent representing House Amladaris in the Magisterium, with many dreams fulfilled, and many hopes dashed.
Now, she was not here for session, she was here as a citizen.
There were whispers and glances as she returned, conversations hushing when she walked by. She’d finally made peace with the fact that even if no one knew the full story, they had decided they did. She made a decision, and because of it, she was no longer worthy of power. She wasn’t sorry, but truthfully, she was afraid. Being afraid would do no good in the Magisterium.
So, she walked with her shoulders back, and pretended.
The third floor was a massive chamber, from which many hallways extended, and through one of those hallways was an office. It belonged to a curt man who held the position of second enchanter several times in different circles. Theodosia had spent much of her ten years at odds with Magister Ademar, until he slowly began to come around to her way of thinking.
At least, she appreciated it until she realised he was trying to sway her to his side as he prepared to disrupt Magister Pavus’s speech on freedoms from slavery. Ademar had stared daggers at her as she’d sharply hushed him.
He did, however, bear most of the influence in the Magisterium when it came to matters related to administration within the Circle of Magi, which is why she stood outside his door right now.
Theodosia took a deep breath, and prepared for an annoying conversation.
She knocked.
“Enter,” came Ademar’s voice from inside.
The office was lit with a wide window behind the desk. Tall shelves were adorned with books in pristine condition, magically-lit candles, and a collection of trinkets. It would appear his affinity for model ships had not waned in the months that have passed.
Ademar looked down his nose at his writing, slumped forward and quill in hand. Beside him, an enchanted version of the same quill scribbled out a different document, with what appeared to be much finer penmanship.
Theodosia smoothed down her coat. “Good day, s -”
He held up a finger. “One moment, please,” he said, brighter than she’d expected.
After a few seconds, he concluded the sentence he was writing, seemingly satisfied. His demeanour changed the moment he laid eyes on her.
“Ah.” He spoke slowly and surly. “That’s right, you… changed your name.”
“I did.”
He straightened in his chair, narrowing his eyes behind his round glasses. “Have a seat, Theodosia.”
“Thank you for making time for this, Magister.”
“Be brief. I’ve work to catch up on.” He did not let go of the quill.
She eyed the stack of unopened letters behind him. Some bore seals she recognised.
“Quite.” She took a breath. “I must ask if you have received any communication from the Circle of Minrathous recently?”
“Regarding…?” He looked over his spectacles.
“My son is in his fourth year and the curriculum is… not as promised. He is adamant he is not the first and only student to broach this issue.”
“Just how is the curriculum ‘not as promised’?”
“It just seems to be… in decline.” She recalled what Cai had been telling her over the last few weeks as they’d sat at the dinner table, when his fist would clench in frustration at the thought of wasted time and effort.
“Sessions are cancelled without warning, tasks are issued without the students having been taught the material, there are mages whose control is slipping and no one is helping them through it. The professors need to -”
“Is it not upheld that if a concern lies within a Circle of Magi, one’s port of call is the First Enchanter?” His voice was heavy with disinterest as his attention was drawn back to his paper.
“The First Enchanter told me to speak with you .” She calmed and maintained composure, something she’d taught herself to do invisibly. “My daughter is planning to attend there as well, when she comes of age. I would greatly appreciate it if you were to look into this for the students.”
“It is the largest Circle in a nation of mages, Theodosia, and more populated than ever.” Ademar continued writing. “A lot of southern mages came north after their little war, and brought an awful lot of chaos with them.”
“I remember, but Cai has only found these issues occurring in the past few months. He has been so fond of his professors for the last three years, he noticed when things were changing.”
He finally made eye contact with her which meant he was listening, something she’d seen precious few times in the Magisterium. She silently willed him to have an idea or remember something useful.
Theodosia smiled gently. “Ademar, the Minrathous Circle was remarkable when I was there, and I’d love for this not to sour his experience.”
The Magister sat back slightly and rolled his shoulders, releasing tension from sitting forward for so long. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Perhaps your time in the Minrathous Circle was… rose-tinted.” He said slowly, returning to his letter. “You met your husband there, after all, did you not?”
She felt a twinge in her gut, and tried as best she could to keep her voice even.
“The Circle needs to be held accountable.” She stated. “This is still your jurisdiction -”
“Amladaris, it -”
“ Valentius. ”
They watched each other. All they could hear was the distant sounds of the Magisterium floor and the everpresent ambient hum of magic.
Until they heard a scratching sound.
“Agh!” Ademar cursed to himself, jumping to his feet. The enchanted quill had lost track and had started writing on the wooden desk. “Blasted thing - stop!”
Theodosia sighed, resigned. “Ademar, may we -?”
“Theodosia, I think it’s best you leave.” He’d caught the quill and was holding his hand above the desk, calling magic to draw the ink stain out of the desk.
“I would much rather we see this through, Ademar. I understand if things are hectic, but -”
“You no longer belong here, Theodosia.”
Her frustration was tangling in a knot at being interrupted so often. She went to speak several times, to defend, but couldn’t bring up the strength to, as if she were running out of breath. She noticed how tightly she was clenching her fist when she saw her knuckles paling.
She did not look at Ademar.
“I remember running circles around you, when I did.” She spoke quietly.
“Maybe so. A shame it didn’t matter.“ A small amount of magic burst from Ademar’s hands, cleaning them of ink, and he looked satisfied.
It mattered once, venal, she thought.
Theodosia stood, too tired to pretend. She left Ademar to his letters and quills, walking out the door and not looking back, dejected. It closed with a loud bang. She’d pulled it harder than she’d meant to, and she cringed as it echoed. After that, she stepped delicately.
There was a cluster of familiar faces in the main chamber, watching her. If they’d noticed her disappointment, they were smiling about it. It stung a bit, to walk past them. Why did she have to be sensitive? She wondered if her emotions had clouded her perception, and made everything hurt more than it should, but she could only go on what she'd seen, felt, and lived for the last ten years.
No, nineteen years was closer.
The Magister could no longer control her house because she hadn’t stooped low enough fast enough, and had been all but exiled for it.
Theodosia Valentius was someone she hadn’t been for a long time, and if she was honest, she had no idea who that was.
All she knew now, was that she was tired, upset and homesick for a lot of things that were long gone.
She left the Magisterium, dust glinting in the air as it caught the light.
Six months later…
The dragon soared through the sky above Minrathous like a blazing star.
Harding and Bellara were several paces behind Neve as she sped through the streets. They hadn’t found any Shadow Dragons. Her blood boiled and her heart thundered in her chest. She felt hot with anxiety and anger against the cold rain.
“Neve!” Harding called, sounding far away. “Where are we?!”
They were in a long alley that curled around the market. She’d been here countless times. The stonework was ancient and spattered with blood. Their footfalls crushed shards of stained glass on the ground.
Neve didn’t answer.
She had raced through the Eluvian from the Crossroads and had felt her world shift when she saw what lay beyond. She’d stood nearby for a long moment, hoping to see Llewelyn step through the Eluvian. She’d begged him, and a part of her believed he’d come, but she was wrong. Bellara and Harding appeared, so she wasn’t alone. However, Llewelyn was their leader. He was a force that pushed them forward, and he was getting better at it every moment. He did everything with a grin, and in a blaze of spinning fire.
Today, Llewelyn Aldwir had taken that fire to Treviso.
Neve steeled herself and kept running.
She took them through a shortcut that spiralled towards Hightown. The girls raced up staircases and ladders, through back alleys and tunnels, many of them connected with power crystals which Bellara handled for them. Neve wanted to get to higher ground to send signals to any Shadow Dragons she could reach. It felt as if Blight was dripping into Minrathous with the rain. The dragon brought sickness and flame, and unleashed them both without remorse.
Neve took them up a stairwell that led to the upper wing of a guardhouse. There was a tower on its northside that served as a captain’s office, but there was no chance it was occupied right now. They emerged onto a tiled bridge between the building and the tower, where they felt the rain on their faces once more, the dragon roaring through the fog.
As Neve continued to surge forward, the air in front of her exploded.
The three of them were thrown backwards through the air, having made contact with a repel ward. They grunted in pain and made to get to their feet, when they realized they were stuck to the tiled floor like glue.
The walls sizzled with the aftereffects of the explosion, before they heard heeled footsteps coming from the room.
“I will end you before you touch anyone in this room.”
A female voice emerged from the office doorway with an authority that sent chills up even Neve’s spine.
Neve was afraid, in the brief moment before she recognized it.
“Wait!” She called. “I might know you.”
Some of the magic subsided, allowing her to lift her head.
A woman stood at the threshold. A mage clad in a long, dark pink coat, with sparkling jewellery and hair pulled up tight. Purple lightning trickled between her fingers as she poised for attack. The moonlight caught her face, her expression cold and defiant before it shifted to confusion - or concern.
“Who are you?” She asked, intrigued.
“Neve Gallus.”
The lightning vanished, as did the magic adhering them to the floor.
“Get up, and come in.”
Neve, Bellara and Harding rushed into what appeared to be a safehouse, as the dragon screeched. A flash of orange bloomed in the distant sky, distorted by the glass of the window.
The room had been turned upside down. Shelves were pushed over, desk drawers were pulled open and one window was smashed. The sounds of the chaos were softened beyond the walls. There was blood splashed up the mage’s leg, as if she’d cast or been near blood magic. Neve stopped scanning the room when her gaze fell on two figures huddled in a corner.
Two young humans in Circle robes - an older boy almost of teenhood, and the girl, a few years younger. The girl clutched onto the boy’s arm, but both had defiance in their eyes.
“Theodosia Valentius,” said the mage, who immediately went to work re-implementing the repel ward. “These are my children, Malachi and Lavinia. I need to decide either to run or keep hiding.”
“Apologies for the scare,” Harding said, turning to the young girl, whose eyes seemed to soften.
Neve had recognised this woman. Theodosia had been a magister, alongside her husband, Irian. She was often found in cautious agreement with those representing the Lucerni, back when they existed, and would cower under no one’s cold stare - save for Irian’s. She was measured and calm. If she had passion for change, she made it invisible. If she surrendered, she did it in private.
Theodosia once had a sterling reputation, until she stopped appearing in Magisterium reports when scandal struck her house. Neve did not recall the details of such scandal, nor did she recall the name Valentius.
An arcane lock clicked into place, muting the sound of rain and turmoil. Theodosia turned to Neve expectantly.
“No one's hiding from that thing,” Neve said, straightening her posture. “If there's any chance to go, you need to take it. But…” she hesitated a moment. “You’re from the Magisterium. Could you help us get to it?”
Many emotions shifted through Theodosia’s eyes, and she fell silent for a while, thinking. Eventually, she took a step forward.
“I could take my children out from Hightown, but after that…” She shook her head, eyes darting around the floor. “The slums below? The villages beyond the city? The countryside? Those Venatori are everywhere.”
She glanced over to the teenagers in the corner. They looked exhausted. Lavinia leaned against her brother as he stared out of the foggy window, brow furrowed and arms folded tight.
“There’s no place I can trust with them,” Theodosia said, turning back to Neve.
“What if we took them to the Lighthouse?” Harding asked, freckles lit by the pink light of the ward.
“What’s that?”
“It’s our… headquarters. It’s secure, but it’s in the Fade.”
“It’s what?”
“How is it in the Fade?” Malachi spoke suddenly.
“It’s an ancient fortress that my group has taken up residence in. It might work, but you’d have to get to the Eluvian.”
Theodosia blinked slowly. “The what?” She said again, before shaking her head. “Nevermind. Will - will they be safe?”
“I wouldn't send them if I didn't believe it was.”
In the corner, the young mages got to their feet. They shared eye contact with their mother, and trust passed between them, silently.
“I can go with them,” Bellara said, “I’ll need to disable those power crystals again.”
Theodosia gave Bellara a once-over and then smiled slightly. Whereas she had taken a few careful moments to trust Neve, she seemed to have a good feeling about Bel immediately.
“Let me come, too,” Harding said, “I have healing supplies and I want to help get you there.”
“Good,” Bellara smiled.
Lavinia appeared suddenly. “I like your triangles,” she said, looking at Bellara’s leathers and charms.
“Oh…” Bellara looked afraid. “Thank you.”
Theodosia placed a hand on each of her children’s shoulders. All she did was look at them.
“I…” was all she said before she trailed off.
“I think we’ll be alright,” Malachi said softly.
“And he has that,” Lavinia said, pointing to a chain around her brother’s neck. If it had a pendant, it was hiding behind his collar.
“And I have this,” he said. He was smiling, but there was uncertainty in his eyes.
Theodosia kissed both their heads. Uncertainty would have to do.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Love you, too”, the children replied in unison.
She kissed them again, and straightened up.
“I know where to go,” she said to Neve, then looked at Bellara. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bellara nodded, smiling, still a little nervous.
Cai and Lavinia grabbed whatever else they needed from the room, and prepared to leave. Theodosia’s expression hardened, and her hands brimmed with energy as she began to remove the ward.
“You both going to be alright? Alone out there?” Harding said, patting Neve’s arm.
Neve stared through the doorway, watching her home be put to flame.
Somewhere in the flames, however, there were Shadow Dragons.
“We won’t be alone,” Neve said, her silhouette lit by a flash of magic as the ward was lifted once more.
Llewelyn’s vision blurred as he ran. Minrathous was breaking at the seams. Blight was bleeding into the streets. He’d seen the city at night, but never as dark as this. Though the dark sky felt like it was closing in around them, there was no dragon to be seen. Only wrath and scorched streets.
Lucanis was close behind him, and they heard commotion all around them, yelling and crying. People were rushing by, looking for shelter. There were guardsmen with burned armour and broken limbs. Slumped against a wall, was an elderly man, soaked to the bone, who hugged himself in Llewelyn’s periphery. He caught only the briefest of glimpses but his heart sank deep all the same.
Llewelyn halted and stared up at the threshold of an establishment with purple windows. Neon lights flickered above, their magic waning. Inside, everything was on fire. Its roof crumbled in with a massive crashing sound. Debris spilt out of the doorway, still smouldering at their feet.
“We had dinner in there with Neve,” Lucanis said, flames reflected in his eyes.
“We did,” Llewelyn breathed. There was an explosion in the distance, heavy, like a crack of thunder. “Let’s go.”
They ran further through impossibly cramped streets. Llewelyn vaguely remembered where they were, near where the market used to be. That meant the plaza wasn’t far. That’s where he wanted to look for Neve. They kept moving, narrowly avoiding tripping over tendrils of blight that were sprawling over the city like tree roots.
The plaza approached. There were people everywhere, either wounded, helping, or panicking. In the shadows, near a wounded figure lying on some crates, Llewelyn saw a flash of teal and white, and knew it was Neve.
“Neve!” He yelled as he ran over.
She was still facing the wounded figure, her back turned, and Llewelyn realised then that it was Ashur, his eyes black and veiny.
“Neve?” Llewelyn said, gently.
Slowly - painfully slowly - Neve turned her head to look at him. The look in her eyes shook his heart. He thought for a moment, the raindrops might suspend in the air around them and freeze.
“You’re late,” she said finally.
“I am. I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” She stepped away from Ashur, who looked up at Llewelyn from behind his mask, dazed.
Llewelyn followed Neve to the end of the plaza, where the path extended into a balcony looking down over the city. There, some candles were hovering, illuminating a makeshift desk, on which was a map and several papers, one which appeared to be a list of names. Neve shuffled through them before marking something with a stick of charcoal.
When she was done, she slammed it down on the desk that Llewelyn was certain it had broken. She turned to him, hands on hips.
“What happened in Treviso?” She asked. “Is Lucanis…?”
He put a hand on her arm and turned her, gently. “He’s right -” he pointed to where Lucanis was guiding a robed man to his feet further into the plaza. “- over there, look.” It seemed a few people in need of an extra hand had caught his attention.
“Harding’s on the floor below. Bellara is helping people escape, and…” Neve trailed off. She was drenched from the rain and her black veil obscured her eyes, so Llewelyn wasn’t sure if she’d been crying.
“I don’t know… what to do,” she sighed, her voice almost lost to the rain and thunder.
His hand was still on her arm, and he squeezed gently, not sure it would help. He had never seen Neve like this, and it hurt.
“You will,” a voice from behind him spoke.
He turned to see someone he didn’t recognise, an older woman with brown skin and greying hair in a bun, wearing a coat the colour of wine.
“I know you will.”
Neve walked towards her, eyes hopeless. “You are a magister,” she said. “Tell me you have a plan for taking back the palace
The magister smiled sadly. “I don’t have the power you think I do.”
“Well… then -”
The magister placed her arms on Neve’s shoulders. “You need your eyes on what you can do, and you can do so much .” She stared at the detective like she could see her soul.
“Neve, you’re not blighted, your mind is clear. Don’t think about the Magisterium. It won’t help. Look out there -” she gestured to Minrathous, darkened, tainted, yet shining still. “- and do what you need to do.”
The magister smiled once more. “And the best part is,” she nodded to the makeshift desk stacked with papers and devotion, “you’re already doing it.”
Neve stared pensively into the foggy, sparkling city, its shadows darker than ever before. She breathed evenly. She didn’t blink. When she turned her head slightly to meet Llewelyn’s eyes, there was a coldness solidifying within them like an icy lake freezing over.
He felt the chill as the moment passed, and Neve turned back to Theodosia. She mouthed a “thank you” towards her and headed back to the plaza, determined.
The magister sighed, her breath misting in the cold air.
“Theodosia of House Valentius,” she said, extending a hand to Llewelyn, now authoritative, rather than maternal.
“Llewelyn.” He shook her hand, and noticed her eyes flit with slight alarm. “But Rook is fine.”
“Rook.”
“Yes.” No one could pronounce Llewelyn correctly anyway. Rook was better. “You’re a magister?” He asked.
“Neve is misinformed. I was a magister once, I just kept forgetting to tell her. I was there for years.”
“So, what do you do here, in the meantime?”
“I advise junior magisters and take care of my children. Otherwise -” She gripped her staff - a dark wooden carving of three snakes wrapping around one another, like the Tevinter flag - and tapped the floor once. A pink shimmer appeared, stretching from the railing of the balcony all the way out to the plaza, and Llewelyn realised there had been a protective shield there the entire time.
“- Wards and traps.” She smiled again.
Llewelyn took a breath.
“Listen to me, the group I’m forming is coming together to stop magic that could end the whole world. What happened here is part of it. All of Thedas could end up like this if we don’t do everything we can.”
Her expression shifted several times as she listened, eyes unsure.
”I don’t know what’s going to come next. I know it won’t be easy, but by all means, we could - “ he gestured to himself and wherever Lucanis was. “As a team, we could use someone experienced right now. Wards and traps will always be useful and… I’m not really a talker, and you know about power in a way that we don’t.”
“Rook…”
Llewelyn gave her his best persuasive look. “We really could use you.”
Theodosia looked down for a moment, then out into the rain. The chaos had almost ceased. There were still sounds of panic, but they were dimmed. The air was thick with loss, but also with relief and reunions. She turned back to him
“So much is needed here, Rook. I can’t simply -”
“ Mum !” A voice cried from nowhere, followed by two sets of footsteps.
Llewelyn saw two teenagers dressed in mage robes approaching. A girl in what must have been her early teens, bearing shoulder-length wavy hair, and eyes and skin matching Theodosia’s, followed by a dark-haired young man with sharp features and a lighter skin tone, unsmiling.
Theodosia knelt down, and when the girl crashed into her, they wrapped their arms around each other.
“Hello!” Theodosia smiled and held her daughter close and scritched the back of her hair with affection.
“Hi,” the girl said into her mother’s shoulder.
“You made it,” the young man said, relieved. Theodosia reached up to hug him tightly with one arm, kissing his face. Llewelyn was certain he saw the boy cringe.
“So did you, thank goodness.” She squeezed them both again. “Rook, this is Lavinia and Malachi.”
“It’s just Cai,” the boy grumbled, as clearly as he could through the smothering hug.
“They did so well, ma’am,” came a familiar voice, and Llewelyn turned to see Bellara, clothes dusty and worn, but her smile bright as ever.
“We found a puzzle,” Lavinia said, grey-brown eyes looking up at Llewelyn. “and we solved it.”
“That’s - that’s good,” Llewelyn said.
Theodosia and her children continued to catch up.
“Rook, I really don’t know what to do with children,” Bellara whispered.
“You seem fine to me.” He nudged her a little.
“They asked me where I live and I said ‘I don’t know’.”
“Oh.”
“Thank you so much. Bellara, was it?” Theodosia stood and placed a hand on Bellara’s shoulder.
“Yes! And it was my pleasure.” Llewelyn noted that Bellara’s feet were tapping nervously. “They’re… so good. They’re great.”
“Hm.” Theodosia looked down at Lavinia and touched her face. She thought for a while, and looked back at Llewelyn.
“Your… headquarters,” she said cautiously. “Would my children be safe there if they came with me?”
Llewelyn and Bellara looked at each other.
The Lighthouse was still new. It still felt as if it had a mind of its own. Not to mention how it would shift and change on a whim. One wrong step and you’d fall thousands of miles to… somewhere.
Who knew what magic of Fen’Harel still lingered there?
And yet, there may be tricks to it that only Theodosia could figure out. There was a chamber that floated near the dining hall sometimes, near Neve's room, that would fit a couple of beds. The Lighthouse was definitely safer than Minrathous, and Llewelyn wanted Cai and Lavinia to be safe. There were secrets to uncover, and if Lavinia liked puzzles…
“Yes,” Llewelyn said. “I’d make sure of it.”
Theodosia’s eyes softened.
“Where are we going?” Cai asked, looking between them.
His mother rubbed his shoulder and he didn’t pull away. There was some purple staining his face where she’d kissed him.
“The Fade.” She smiled.
The party, down one mage and up another, gave Theodosia and her children some more time to talk further. Whilst they assisted with what injuries they could, Lucanis gave Llewelyn a dry look.
“The last time magisters went into the Fade, it didn’t go well.”
Llewelyn rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.”