Chapter Text
Corypheus returned to his base after the failure that was Haven, angered beyond belief.
“Bring her to me,” he ordered, and a Warden ran from the room, returning several minutes later with a ragged looking young woman in tow, shoving her to her knees in front of the Elder One. She looked up at the magister claiming to be a god, a feral grin on her face.
“How does it feel to know you will fail?” she hissed, grey eyes burning with malice.
“Leave us,” he ordered, the young woman hearing, rather than seeing, those in the room swiftly exit. “Now, Calpernia.” The leader of the Venatori mages nodded, bowing to her master before sneering at the young woman as she left. As the door closed, Corypheus grabbed the girl, his hand wrapping around her torso as he lifted her from the ground and squeezed.
“I demand you tell me what must be done to ensure victory,” he ordered. “You told me that the Herald would go after the mages, yet I lost my Red Templars.” The feral grin was back on the young woman’s face, despite the pain in her eyes.
“Oh, did I?” she managed, her tone mocking. “My mistake. Do you plan to bind me in the same way as Erasthenes?” The magister looked almost startled for a brief moment before she continued to speak. “No, you would not dare to waste such magic on someone like me. Besides, I’d find a way to kill myself before you could get the information you desire.” His grip around her tightened, causing her to wince in pain.
“You try my patience, girl,” he warned, keeping his grip tight.
“Good,” she hissed. “You will get nothing of use from me. Kill me now and spare us both the trouble.” The magister merely tightened his grip more before speaking, ignoring the light gasp as the air was forced from her lungs.
“You may still be of some use to me,” he stated, dropping her to the floor. “After all, I need a new Anchor since the Herald spoilt the original.” Upon processing what he had said, and catching her breath, the young woman began to laugh, continuing long after the magister had someone come and drag her from the room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The young woman sat on the floor of her ‘cell’, if one could call the small room an actual cell, watching the handful of Grey Wardens moving around as they completed the tasks assigned to them. She knew better than to try and interact with the abominations--for that is what they were--the beings simply following the orders given to not interact with her besides the twice-daily meals. She had been in the cell since shortly after the disaster that was the Temple, only being pulled out at the whims of the Magister, who tried to pull information from her on securing his victory. She chose to antagonize the Elder one rather than help him, wanting the Herald, the soon-to-be Inquisitor, to be successful in defeating him. Her hope was that maybe, just maybe, his defeat would be able to send her home.
A noise outside her cell brought her attention back to the present, and, while she was not surprised to see a Warden opening her cell, she was surprised to see Calpernia waiting just behind him.
“What do you want?” Her tone was frosty, her eyes narrowed at the woman.
“You will be coming with me,” Calpernia stated simply as the Warden entered and pulled the girl to her feet. “Maybe a change of scenery shall loosen your tongue.” Calpernia watched as the young woman raised an eyebrow as she stayed silent, wisely choosing not to argue.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The young woman was surprised when she arrived at Calpernia’s camp. Rather than a cell or a cage as she had been expecting, the young woman was given her own tent, along with new clothing and a chance to bathe.
“Once you are clean and looking more acceptable, someone will escort you to my tent,” Calpernia told her. “You and I need to have a discussion.” With that, the mage left, someone else entering to help the girl clean off several months' worth of grit and grime. Once the washing water finally ran clear and the girl was deemed sufficiently cleaned, she was helped to dress and plait her ash blonde hair that the helper had initially thought was a light brown.
“Follow me,” the helper told her, leading her through the camp to Calpernia’s tent. She was let inside, and the helper disappeared with a word from Calpernia, though the young woman clearly did not understand what had been said.
“Does he know you have brought me here?” the young woman asked, eyeing the magister uncomfortably once the two were alone.
“Please, take a seat,” Calpernia offered, waiting until she was seated before continuing. “Yes and no. The Elder One knows that I removed you from your cell, but as of this moment, he does not know where you have been taken.” The helper came back at that moment with a tea tray, pouring cups for both women before taking their leave. “I do believe proper introductions are in order. You already know my name; I do think it only fair that I learn yours.” The young woman seemed shocked for a moment, taking a few sips of tea to steady herself. When she had been captured all those months ago, no one had bothered to learn her name. She was surprised she even remembered it anymore.
“Moira,” she managed after a few moments. “My name is Moira.” Calpernia seemed to smile for a moment before schooling her features.
“How did the Elder One capture you, Moira?” Moira frowned a bit, trying to remember what exactly happened when she was captured, but everything from that time was hazy, just out of her reach.
“I... I don’t actually remember,” she admitted after a few minutes of silence, sipping at her tea again to calm her nerves. “The only thing I clearly remember is that he wished to find a way to stay one step of the Herald. He got me instead.”
“Someone who knows information, yet chooses to antagonize Him,” Calpernia noted with a nod, leaning back in her chair. “Why? You would be much safer if you helped Him.” The magister watched a hazy look form in Moira’s eyes for a moment before she spoke.
“Time is a delicate thing,” she stated cryptically, the hazy look clearing before she spoke again. “What is happening in Thedas has to play out as it will with no interference from someone like me.” She sighed softly, shaking her head. “I have told him, warned him of this, yet he wishes for me to tell him how to ensure his victory. Instead, I antagonize him until he makes a decision on his own.”
“I see...” Calpernia frowned. “Are you not afraid of death?” Moira shrugged, falling silent as she pondered over the magister’s words. After a few moments, she looked up at her, a slight grin on her face. “What?”
“Are you?”
“What?” Calpernia was clearly confused. Something in Moira’s eyes screamed ‘not right’, but the magister couldn’t place exactly what it was.
“Are you afraid of death?” Moira clarified; her grin now slightly feral. Calpernia didn’t answer for several moments, taking the time to finish her cup of tea and pour herself a new one, drinking most of that one before finally responding.
“I think that this talk has gone on long enough,” she stated, her voice calm despite being slightly unnerved by Moira’s question. “A guard will escort you back to your tent.” Moira nodded and moved to stand. “Please do remember that you are still a prisoner. There is nowhere for you to run, and you will be brought back if you try, most likely in worse condition than when you left.” Moira just nodded, giving the magister a less feral grin, though this one was just as unnerving, being all teeth.
“Good to know.”