The Prisoner
Calpernia made her way down the stone corridor to stand by a very well-guarded and warded door. Two of Samson's Templars stood to attention at her approach, while her own Venatori bowed to her as she passed them. She hid her grimace at such deference. She hated it with all her heart, but it was also useful to have for a woman in her position. Born a slave, it was only when her Teacher had singled her out to lead his Venatori that she had been raised to prominence over the noblemen of her country. Calpernia could never decide if she hated or pitied her countrymen more. Perhaps it was both, but in the end it didn't matter. Her Teacher would lead Tevinter back to greatness, and she would be his right hand and high priestess. She could change her beloved Tevinter for the better, slowly abolish the slave trade, and once more Tevinter would take its place as the greatest of empires.
The mage stopped at the edge of the wards that blocked access to the door, letting the magics lap against her skin before stepping through them. Very few had unrestricted access to this room, only her Teacher, Samson, herself and a few other, trusted, Venatori mages. And Calpernia found that she and Alexus were the ones whom most often interacted with the prisoner kept within the room.
The room itself wasn't bad as far as prison cells went. Much to the Red Templar's objection, she had made sure the room was furnished to provide as much comfort as was possible. There was nothing the prisoner could use to harm the jailers or to facilitate an escape, but it also wasn't a barren stone cell that dulled the mind and spirit. That the prisoner was a stranger to Thedas was obvious to anyone with eyes, and there was so much she could potential learn from this creature. She would never fully trust the one trapped within of course, but civility could gain her far more information than acting the barbarian.
Once past the outer, warded door, there was a short corridor lined with glyphs that were keyed to certain auras. Samson, brute that he was, banished the glyphs on his rare visits, forcing her or Alexus to come down and reset the traps. She was glad he was out recruiting for his army. That he was loyal to her Teacher was his only redeeming feature in her eyes. He was a crude, uncouth beast of a man, and he lacked any finesse for dealing with those outside his little order. Anyone not part of his army was treated as an inferior, never mind who that person was. How she detested that man!
She stood in front of the final door, this one locked with two different locks along with a heavy wooden bar across the frame. They'd had to add the second lock, the bar, along with the glyphs and wards a few weeks after the prisoner came to stay in the cell. It had been found that only one locked door was not much of a barrier to keep the prisoner inside the cell, much to the chagrin of the prison warden. And thank the void the prisoner had been found missing before the escape attempt had succeeded. Her Teacher was not one to forgive failure, as the warden had rather painful learned. Taking the necessary keys from her belt pouch, Calpernia unlocked the door and raised the bar so she could step into the room beyond.
Once inside she could feel a dampening of her aura, as the wards imbedded within the stone floor began draining her mana from her. It was a slow process, but it kept the prisoner drained of magic without lasting harm. It also meant that she and Alexus could spend time here before becoming drained so as not to be unarmed when face to face with the prisoner.
That the prisoner could work magic had also been discovered during that first escape attempt, but the magic was so very different from what she had been taught. The prisoner needed no staff to focus the Fade; indeed the prisoner had looked at the Venatori with scorn for relying on staves to work their own magics. It was as if the prisoner viewed them all as unruly children playing at being mages instead of the well learned and practiced magisters they were. And perhaps we are children in the prisoner's eyes. If only Calpernia could convince the prisoner to teach her some of that knowledge! It could change everything! But not even the strongest demons that roamed the Fade had been able to penetrate the barriers that guarded the prisoner's sleeping mind.
Calpernia stopped at the edge of the carpet that covered most of the stone floor. While she held the prisoner within her power, this cell was as close to a home as the prisoner had right now and it was always polite to announce your presence before barging into someone's home. And politeness cost her nothing, no matter what Samson claimed. As she waited she studied the prisoner, seeing again the differences that screamed that this was a stranger to Thedas. And while the prisoner's appearance had been what had initially drawn Venatori forces to her, it was the mind hidden underneath that fearsome exterior that kept bringing Calpernia back down into this cell.
The prisoner was female. That had been determined early on while they'd had her unconscious, during the healing of the injuries caused by her capture. And it took more lives than I want to count to bring her down. She was tall; she could look down on most human men, but was shorter than the average qunari woman. Her skin was a light gray-green in color, which is what had given her away to the Venatori scouting party that had found her in the ruins of an old elvhen fortress. But it was her face that truly fascinated Calpernia.
Her features were long and angular, with sharp cheek bones and a strong, stubborn chin. Her ears were pointed like an elf's. But the length was shorter than that and not quite as curved as the average elves. Her nose was thin and narrow with hard ridges of skin running horizontally across the bridge of her nose. Her lower jaw jutted out further than the upper, which is what allowed her two lower canines to protrude out of her mouth. They were small and almost dainty tusks, but tusks none the less. And her eyes. Her eyes where a solid swirl of multifaceted blue, no whites visible at all, with narrow star-shaped pupils of black against the jewel-like color of her eyes. Calpernia often wondered just what the prisoner saw when she looked at her with those strange gemstone eyes.
"Well, well look what the skeever dragged in." The prisoner had a deep voice and spoke Tevene with only a trace of an accent caused by her native tongue. It had taken months of careful teaching and learning, with strained trust on both sides, before the woman had learned to speak, read and write Tevene. Calpernia and Alexus in turn had learned her own language, which had given them a way of communicating privately with each other even in a room full of other people. And that alone had been worth the effort of learning the damn jaw breaking tongue. Alexus was now teaching her the common trade tongue as well, mostly Calpernia suspected because he didn't want to give up the privilege of spending time alone with the prisoner.
"Avanna Sharn, I hope you are well this evening?" Calpernia settled herself on one of the two chairs that sat next to the carpet's edge. She has careful to never step onto that rug, as it designated the edge of the strongest ward she had ever encountered. Her Teacher had cast it himself after Sharn had escaped that first time. Not that it kept her from trying the ward. More than once Calpernia had come into the room to find her unconscious on the rug after yet another attempt to get past the ward. The mage had a feeling that she would never stop trying to escape and that one day she would find her dead on the floor.
"Well enough given this sunless pit I'm trapped in." Those strange, beautiful eyes glanced up from the book Sharn held loosely in her hands. "I must say you have the one of the most messed up religions I've ever had the misfortune to encounter."
Calpernia raised a brow at the prisoner. It was rare for Sharn to voice an opinion on anything unless asked, and even then she almost never gave a straight answer. "Why do you say that?"
"Your Maker has turned his back on you not once, but twice. You burned your great prophet at the stake, and yet say that all will be forgiven if only enough people sing his praises across the world, but until then he has turned away from everyone, and still your people follow him even though he abandoned you. I've seen many religions, some good, some bad, but this one, this one is just wrong. Why haven't you found a new god if this one cares nothing for his worshipers?"
"Because the Chantry wields a great deal of power. It is the only religion for most of those living on Thedas. Even some non-humans follow the Chantry. True the dwarves have their ancestor worship and the Dalish follow their heathen gods, but most living beings worship at the Chantry's altar. Even here in Tevinter we follow our own version of the Chantry's teachings." She gave a bitter smile. "And I agree with you that we need a new god. That is why I follow my Teacher. He will enter the Fade and the Black City. There he will take the seat of the Maker for his own, raising himself to godhood. And we will at last have the god we need to lead us to greatness once again."
"Is that truly what you think will happen?" Sharn's tone held something close to pity. "Foolish girl, Daedric Princes promise many things, and while they might grant great power to their followers, that does not make them as strong as the Aedra. I kneel at Malacath's altar, for He is the one that gave my people succor when we lost our original god, but that does not mean I would support Him if he lost His mind enough to challenge the Nine Divines for rule of Mundus." Definitely pity in that deep voice. "Time and time again a Daedric Lord will try to become more than he should, and each time he is cast down, weaker and much diminished by those that opposed him."
"My Teacher is different than your Daedric Lords. He will prevail, and Tevinter will be great again."
"As you wish, but I pity those who survive his rise and fall. It may take an age or more, but in the end he will fall. That is the way of all things."
Calpernia waved her hand, dismissing the topic. "Enough of religion. I came to speak to you about an object you had on you when you came into our hands." She pulled a silk bag from her belt pouch, opening it to reveal a small, slender, silver ring adored with a stylized golden star perched atop a crescent moon made of silver. A single diamond shone from the center of the star. It was truly beautiful. Even in the dim light of the cell the star and moon gleamed with a pale luminescence that drew the eye. "This is a pretty bauble that you had." She turned her hand this way and that, causing the ring to shimmer and gleam in the light. "What is this Sharn? Why does it kill all who wear it?"
Sharn laughed, the sound cold and harsh. "How many died before you stopped putting that ring on their fingers?"
The mage set her jaw, working hard not to show her anger. Five Venatori and three Templars had died before she had been able to stop them. And still she had people coming to her, wanting to try and wear the damn thing. It was almost as if the ring wanted to be worn, and it seemed to call to anyone that came near it. It had taken a warded silk bag before she could bear to have it on her own person for more than a few minutes at a time without wanting to put the damn thing on.
"I lost too many. I'll ask you again, what is this thing Sharn? I'm very close to tossing the damn thing into the nearest lava fissure."
The prisoner looked at her, then at the ring in her hand. "It's mine, has always been and will always be mine. It is the ring of Moon-and Star, and it will not suffer any other than me to be its bearer. Azura saw to that."
"Azura?"
"The Lady of Twilight, of Dusk and Dawn. She is a Daedric Prince of great power and it is never wise to meddle in the affairs of Daedric Princes."
"I thought you worshiped before Malacath?"
"Just because I kneel before Malacath does not mean I cannot also follow Azura. Very few follow only one god, be they Aedra or Daedra. After all most gods can only influence certain areas, so you ask the one that can help you for the assistance you need in specific tasks. It is the way of things. And I don't worship anyone." She scowled, allowing her tusks to gleam before continuing. "Worship implies unthinking obedience, and I follow my own path. Sometimes that path will merge with the path of others, but it is still my path. I followed blindly once in my youth, but never again." She turned her gemstone eyes on Calpernia. "Let that be a lesson to you human, never follow with your eyes shut to the truth around you."
Calpernia stared at her. "You can't be that old Sharn. Truly, you look no older than me. Younger if I had to guess your age."
The laughter this time was more than bitter. "I am much, much older than I look Calpernia. But that is a story for another time.” She turned her attention back to the book still held loosely in her grasp. “Now was there something else? Or did you just come by for a brief visit?”
“I wanted to speak to you about the ring yes,” Calpernia said through gritted teeth, “and also wished to inform you that we will be moving your living accommodations within the next few days. It would be best if you cooperated for once instead of forcing us to spell you to sleep.”
“Human, that is one thing that will never happen. This is a pretty cage you have for me, but a cage it still is. And the last time someone thought to cage me, it didn’t end well for any of those involved.” She paused before adding in a softer voice, “including myself. Save yourself some grief young human. Return what you stole from me and let me go my own way.”
“I can't do that Sharn. You are too valuable a resource for my master. If it was my choice I would set you free, but you are considered an incaensor. And my Teacher wishes you to stay, so stay you shall.” And Calpernia meant that. Sharn was a creature of mountains and primal forests. She didn't belong in a stone cell. Calpernia had even argued that it was better to free the stranger, to turn her into a willing ally, but her words had fallen on deaf ears. Both her Teacher and Samson feared what Sharn would do if freed, so in her cell she would remain.
Calpernia got to her feet, slipping the ring back into its silk bag as she did so. “Please Sharn; just think about working with us. My Teacher greatly rewards those who are loyal.”
The other woman just looked at her with her gemstone eyes. “You are so very foolish. Your precious Teacher will turn out just like all the other Daedric Lords. They promise great things, and they might even keep those promises, for a time. But you are not a person to him Calpernia, you are a tool. And like all tools, he will discard you when he no longer has a use for you.”
The mage turned away from the pity in those eyes. Sharn was wrong. She had to be wrong. Her Teacher would lead Tevinter to glory once more and she would be his right hand. Calpernia left the cell, trying hard to ignore the small voice in the back of her mind that whispered that perhaps the prisoner was right. She was so intent on ignoring that small voice that she didn't notice the small silver ring slip out of the frayed seam of the silk bag and roll to rest against the edge of the rug.