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Skyhold:
It’s difficult to think straight, let alone sleep, while these voices whisper in my head. It’s been days now, and I’ve taken to walking the battlements at night to get some sort of peace. Maybe Morrigan should have been the one to drink from the Well, the one to have taken its power. At least I’d be able to get some rest.
Josie catches me yawning during a war table meeting and gives me a sad look. There’s nothing worse than condescending pity from others though, so I do the only thing that comes to mind: I tell them to sort it out themselves and turn on my heel to find something much better to do. Like summoning Mythal and asking for her help.
Before I head out to Mythal’s Altar, I check in with everyone to see how preparations for the battle against Corypheus are going. As I walk through the rotunda, Solas demands to see me. Okay. He angrily asks if the power of the Well was everything I’d hoped for, was worth everything I’d sacrificed. I tell him I’m fine, though I’m sure he doesn’t actually care. He’s probably just jealous he wasn’t there to push me out of the way and take the power for himself.
Solas demands to know what I’ll do with the Well’s power once Corypheus is dead. Uh, one thing at a time, Solas. Let’s just kill Corypheus first off. He apologizes, but points out I need to start making decisions before someone else makes them in my stead. Then he starts making some vague statements about rescuing Corypheus’ orb and saving the past. I just want to kill the bastard Magister, Solas. Priorities!
Dorian is still skulking around in the library. He tells me the Temple of Mythal has him thinking. Once Corypheus is dead he ought to go home to help fix things in Tevinter. Despite us being here united against Corypheus, he can’t help talking about the state that Tevinter is in and how he ought to be doing something about it. Just go the fuck back home, Dorian. He continues moaning that he’s barely helped his people.
Well, no shit. This is fairly typical of you, Dorian. You never seem to do much of anything. He tells me he intends to change that particular idea people have of him. Insists that I’ve inspired him because I’m busy shaping the world around me. Hah. Whatever, Dorian. I shrug him off and go see Vivienne.
Vivienne asks how I’m feeling, but she does so in a kind, respectful way. What would I do without her? She’s been such a calming presence in my short life as Inquisitor. I tell her I’m not feeling that great. She tells me it will take time for me to recover from absorbing the Well’s power. That I will need to heal. At least she understands. She always understands. She waves me away on account of having other things to do, and off I go up the stairs.
I go to see Leliana. She’s received a letter from Divine Justinia. You mean dead Divine Justinia managed to post you a letter from the beyond? Do they even have mail service in the Fade or wherever she is? Leliana claims it’s a genuine letter using a code only they used in correspondence together. The letter was only to be delivered upon her death. The letter instructs her to go to Valence to find something waiting for her there. It smells like a trap. Leliana wants to go regardless. I refuse to give her permission. She can send someone else. I need her here. Leliana whines that she wanted to go herself and even take me with her. Hello? Corypheus? I want to shake some sense into her. To see what’s really important right now.
She then asks if I think she ought to be the next Divine. No, Leliana. Just no. Leliana is happy it’s not up to me to decide and has this grand vision of everyone being accepted by the Chantry rather than just focusing on the acceptance of Mages. Apparently this focus is what caused all of the mess in the first place—the Divine’s death, the idiocy at Conclave, etc. Sure, Leliana. Just blame all Mages. Leliana laughs. If Justinia couldn’t gather enough support for reform, then why ever would she? She tells me she should probably just get back to work. Yes. You probably should before I punch you in the face.
Cassandra’s up on the battlements. She wonders what Corypheus might be planning. He’s lost pretty much everything, so he’s probably going to make some sort of desperate move. If he tries to fight me, he’ll regret it. Cassandra smiles and changes the subject. She wonders what will happen to her when Corypheus is defeated? I’ve always assumed Cassandra would just leave, especially after her display the other night. She admits she doesn’t usually drink and apologizes for saying things she ought not to have. I don’t really care to be honest if she stays or goes. It makes no difference to me at all.
Cullen is praying, but he doesn’t really know why he’s doing it. I ask why he bothers if he doesn’t know why. He ignores me and repeats the prayer. He admits he has faltered and the prayer is only for those who have not. He swore he would be free of the lyrium but he has failed. How many times do I have to tell him he can try to quit after Corypheus is dead? When I don’t have to deal with the fall out? He tells me he’ll return to his duties to ensure we’re prepared. Good. Stop fucking wallowing. Stop making it my problem.
Cole refuses to fight Corypheus without the amulet to protect him. Oh yeah, that. Oops. I forgot. He’s also troubled by the prospect of Corypheus’ ability to reincarnate himself. That he can be killed but not die. He tells me it’s difficult to think about his past. That it would hurt less to forget. If only we all had that luxury, Cole. I tell him to remember. I don’t need him confusing others even more than he already does.
Bull and I obviously spend whatever time we ought to have spent preparing for battle in bed. Bull thanks me for reminding him who he is. For reminding him that he belongs to the Qun. He hopes that our arrangement has made being the Inquisitor easier. Absolutely it has. He smirks and tells me it’s been his pleasure. Not entirely, Bull.
Altar of Mythal:
When I wake, it’s time to head the Altar of Mythal. It’s located in a really lovely place, but I don’t really know what to expect and this feeling has me anxiously looking around. Will Mythal herself meet me? Will another appear in her stead? Or will nothing actually happen? I really hope something does happen or I’ll look the fool for listening to the voices in my head. A fool for believing.
I read the message on the Altar and realise what this place actually is. Elves would come to her Altar and call out to her. She would come to them and they would speak here, until one day when Mythal suddenly stopped coming and left them all alone. Bull asks if I want them to piss off for the moment. I tell them not to go far, but yeah, to piss off.
Of course, that’s the exact moment when Morrigan arrives. Didn’t she get the message? I want to do this alone so no one would interfere or fuck this up. Morrigan laughs. Do I have any idea who or what Mythal is? She’s a goddess, I tell her, with sudden confidence in my knowledge. I’m Dalish, she’s human. What right does she have to pretend she understands my culture better than my own people do? The voices whisper. I close my eyes to shut Morrigan out and to listen. Surprisingly, they tell me Morrigan can stay.
Morrigan comments in that sarcastic manner of hers that she’s honoured that the voices in my head have given her permission. I don’t know where the words seem to come from, but suddenly I’m calling out to Mythal to come down, to come speak to me—the last to drink from the Well. Much to Morrigan’s surprise, a figure appears. It’s an old woman. Morrigan gasps, then calls out to the figure. It’s her mother. You’re kidding me. This is probably some elaborately concocted scheme to assassinate me. It’s much more likely than this woman—if this is indeed Mythal—being Morrigan’s mother.
I demand to know what’s going on. Morrigan summons a spell. She’s on the offensive already, so clearly whatever has gone on between these two is deep seated and painful. Mythal, or whoever this woman is, tells me to restrain Morrigan. I do it, but I can’t remember actually making the decision to do so. Mythal laughs. I drank from the Well, so of course I have to listen to her. Oh shit.
If Morrigan is her daughter, this makes Mythal mortal, surely? This is all a mistake. It has to be. There might not even be a Mythal. Morrigan is freaking out. How can her mother be Mythal? The woman reveals that she has carried Mythal inside of her for many, many years—that Mythal is a part of her. I have no reason to trust this woman, and the fact that Morrigan is so visibly freaked out has me doing the same. When does Morrigan ever freak out about anything? Even when she’s mad, she acts wholly indifferent to the emotion. Morrigan’s mother tells me to listen to the voices. What are they saying? I listen. They tell me she’s telling the truth. Morrigan’s mother, or whoever she is, is also Mythal. She properly introduces herself as Flemeth. My head is spinning.
Flemeth congratulates me on bringing my people so far. I’m guessing she doesn’t know that most of my clan are dead, then. I tell Flemeth that the Elves needed her, needed Mythal. Where the hell has she been while my people suffer and die? Flemeth tells me nothing can be changed. That there is nothing she can do and no way to help my people. Well, that’s the most ridiculous bullshit I’ve ever heard.
I ask what happens now. Can she help us against Corypheus? Flemeth tells us she can. The Altar’s guardian, a dragon, will appear. If I master it, I can command it against Corypheus’ own Archdemon. If I can destroy the Archdemon, Corypheus will be mortal and I can kill him. Great. Just master a dragon and we’ll be on our way then. No big.
Flemeth bids me well and turns to leave. Morrigan calls out after her. Flemeth turns and tells Morrigan she was never in danger, then disappears. I’m sensing a lot of drama between these two and I’m not sure I want to know, especially considering I am now Mythal/Flemeth’s slave. Fuck. Why did I drink from that bloody Well? Morrigan tells me she’s glad I did. I’ll bet she is. This whole thing had better be bloody worth it.
It is. Bull and the others come running when they hear the dragon screeching into the valley. We fight the dragon and after a while it just stops. Just looks at us. Bull goes for the killing blow, but I tell him to stop. There’s something telling me that the dragon is beginning to understand, that I need to challenge it somehow into backing off. I stare the dragon down. It settles, and seems to accept my rule, my mastery. The dragon swoops off. Bull laughs. You don’t seem that every day! No, you don’t. The dragon is mine now. Mine to attack Corypheus with. Watch out, ugly butt; we’re coming for you.
Emma Fissenden is a writer of all trades. When she’s not pushing through her next rewrite, she’s playing too many games and working as the Editor in Chief of @noblegasqrtly. You can find her on Twitter @efissenden, or check out her other series for TMS, Game Changer.
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