After spending a relaxing hour with her Master, Elowyn found herself lost in thought while pinning up her hair. She still didn’t know what to make of her relationship with the man who technically owned her. It was a normal part of Thedan life for the rich to have sexual relationships with their servants and slaves. Elowyn had, however, never considered herself chattel, though she had undoubtedly been subject to the whims of the Templars back in the Circle. The only protection she had then was from Guy, another powerful, privileged man.

The general view of elves held by non-elves was that they are whimsical, weak, untrustworthy, but sexually desirable creatures who would betray shemlens without another thought. The standard view of mages was not much better. Elowyn wondered if allowing herself to be seduced by her Master simply played into these stereotypes. She shrugged at her image in the mirror. What could she do about the opinions of others? She had made her choices as best she could, given the small opportunities she had to alter the direction of her life.

Did she love Caius? She was sure that she did. She would sacrifice herself for his happiness, it was that important to her. Though he could appear cold and cruel to others, he had shown her nothing but kindness, even before there was any inkling of sexual attraction between the two of them. On her part, anyway. Perhaps Caius had viewed her as prey from the very first time he set eyes on her. Elowyn tended to think most men had a binary view of women: desirable or undesirable, so it would be an unusual man indeed who took a more nuanced view. She felt that men thought of each other in a similar fashion: ally or enemy. She pondered whether women fit this pattern of thinking as well.

She herself spent a great deal of mental energy pondering the motivations of the people around her. Perhaps this was simply a survival skill among those who found themselves on the bottom of the social hierarchy. She felt her brow furrow, and pressed the ache with her fingers.

Now her mother was here, and she would have to deal with her reactionary attitudes and prejudices. She dreaded to think of what her mother would say if she discovered that Elowyn was in a relationship with a shemlen. Despite their current poverty, her mother’s family were proud of their elven heritage. They lived on dreams of their former glory and longed for the day the shemlens would be wiped from the face of Thedas. In fact, her Dalish father’s attitude had been more tolerant than her mother’s. Elowyn could never understand why her parents had married and stayed together. Then again, her father had drunk himself to death.

And why had her mother come at this time? She didn’t possess the resources to make such a long, arduous journey, even though Elowyn had been sending part of her allowance home. Her visit surely didn’t arise out of any desire to aid her child. Her mother had been happy to let the Circle take Elowyn out of her care and had never shown her much warmth or comfort. Perhaps her mother was so mercenary that she had come to see what she could get out of Caius. And Caius would probably indulge her without feeling any pain at all, because his pocket change was a year’s income to an elf in an alienage.

Elowyn sighed and tore all the pins out of her hair in frustration. All she wanted to do was to pursue the person who had stolen Decentius’ sword. And after that, she wished she could live happily ever after with Caius, studying magic and perhaps having a family. Part of her knew that was a completely unrealistic wish, but she couldn’t help wanting it anyway. What would a child of Caius and herself be like? Would Caius even care for it? He had Cassius and three grown daughters, and Elowyn had heard rumors of his numerous bastards. He might even be a grandfather soon.

Her mother would hate the idea. If Elowyn couldn’t marry another elf, then, in her mother’s view, it would be best to remain celibate. She contemplated herself in the mirror – did she resemble her mother? Would she become a bitter old woman, too?

She saw Caius come into the room and walk up behind her. She was surprised he’d returned: he’s said he’d had some business to attend to. He placed his hands on either side of her head and stroked her hair soothingly.

“Darling, what troubles you? I can see that you’re feeling frustrated again.” He place his hands on her shoulders and massaged the back of her neck. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

“There is much on my mind, Master. But I am loathe to trouble you with it.”

Caius smiled. “I need to set aside more time to attend to you.”

“Oh, no, you do so much for me already, and you have… responsibilities of your own!” she exclaimed, thinking of how Zera’s situation weighed on Caius’ shoulders.

Caius bent down and kissed her on the nape of her neck. His lips sent delightful tingles down her spine. If only they could be alone together without the cares of the world intruding on their happiness!

“Your pleasure and happiness are my own, beautiful,” he said. He twisted her hair and secured it with a single pin. Then he took her hand and raised her up. “And now we shall go to dinner, and you need fear nothing from your mother. Leave her to me.”

Elowyn was so relieved that she flung her arms around him. He laughed, hugging her back. “Be careful,” he admonished, “or I will be tempted to forgo dinner and linger here with you. And then what would your mother say?”  

Elowyn could hear her mother’s voice haranguing the guards before she even set foot in the front hall.

“...and I told them, I said, ‘It’s a wake-up call,’ but did they listen? Oh, there you are,” she said, noticing Elowyn standing there.

“Hello, Mother,” said Elowyn, “What brings you to Minrathous?”

“You have to ask? My only daughter, and she has to ask why her mother - her own mother! - wants to see her, after traveling all this way, that’s the first thing she says to me! They didn’t raise you right in that tower. It’s no wonder everyone says there’s something wrong with mages – stunted, the lot of them! And now, here I am, in a city run by those people. What is Thedas coming to?”

“It’s nice to see you, Mother. Would you like some refreshment after your journey?” Elowyn tried again.

“If there’s anything worth eating in this place! I suppose the wine here is inferior. You know I have an allergy to tropical food. The healer said I have to avoid anything spicy. I won’t be able to eat a thing in this Maker-forsaken place!”

“Right this way, Mother,” Elowyn said, taking her mother by the elbow and leading her to a sitting room. She asked a servant for some tea and pastries, knowing her mother had a sweet-tooth. Her mother looked around appraisingly at the furniture and decorations and sniffed.

“Well, at least it’s not cold. Your aunt’s place is always so cold. I don’t know why she can’t warm up the house when I visit. I suppose it gets hot here?”

“Yes, people tend to remain inside during the middle of the day. There’s a rainy season though,” Elowyn added, hoping to forestall any plans on her mother’s part to stay indefinitely.

“There’s nothing worse than days of dreary gray rain!” exclaimed her mother, biting into a pastry with satisfaction. Elowyn poured more tea.

“Mother, I didn’t know you were coming for a visit. I would have cleared my schedule, as it is, I have obligations –,” she didn’t finish before her mother interrupted.

“The messengers these days! Completely unreliable! Well, I’m not surprised, given the state of the roads. It’s a wonder I wasn’t set upon by brigands – or worse!”

“That would have been terrible!” replied Elowyn, only half disingenuously. “Did you know that I was attacked by abolitionists on my way here?”

“Oh, I’m sure you were fine. You always did have a tendency to exaggerate,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. Elowyn gritted her teeth.

“Ah, Ser Adaran!” said Caius, filling the doorway. He strode over to Elowyn’s mother, extending his hand. Elowyn wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried.

“What a pleasure it is to meet the mother of my most promising apprentice!” said Caius graciously, kissing Elowyn’s mother on the hand. For once, her mother was speechless.

“Mother, this is Magister Caius Vaellanius, the master of this house,” Elowyn said, introducing her boss.

“Enchantée,” said her mother, as if she were a grand lady and not a struggling widow from the alienage.

“I trust your journey was pleasant?” asked Caius, “We are all surprised, and, let me say, delighted at your unexpected visit. Had I known you were coming, I would have sent an escort.”

“Let me tell you about it!” began Elowyn’s mother, gathering breath for a lengthy fulmination.

“If there is anything you need, anything at all, be sure to let us know,” interrupted Caius. “Now, you must be exhausted after your long journey. Phillippus will show you to your suite,” he said, gesturing toward a very handsome, muscular servant. Elowyn had mentioned in passing her mother’s dislike of other women, and Caius had adroitly remembered. “Have a rest, and we’ll see you at dinner,” added Caius cheerfully as the servant led Elowyn’s mother from the room. Elowyn could hear her nattering at the servant all the way down the hall.

“Now, we have that settled,” said Caius, turning toward Elowyn.

“I’m sorry, Master, I didn’t know she was coming. Thank you for rescuing the situation!” Elowyn exclaimed, embarrassed about her mother’s behavior.

“We’ve all had such relatives,” said Caius reassuringly. “Now,” he said, taking her hand, “You look like you could do with a little relaxation yourself, and you must tell me what you’ve been up to.” Elowyn let him lead her from the room. She was still in shock at her mother’s abrupt appearance and relieved that Caius had handled the situation so smoothly.

When Caius had made Elowyn his First Enchanter, she hadn’t realized how much of her time would be taken up managing the other apprentices. She felt anxious to get on with her investigation, but her clerks could only do so much of the daily work without consulting her. After returning to the manor, she barely had time to straighten her hair before running off to meet with Venerandus to go over the weekly training schedule.

She found him by the training grounds, taking notes on two of the guards who were sparring. One was practicing weakening and paralysis hexes, while the other dodged and fade-stepped. There was something familiar in the way they carried themselves. It was almost as if members of the household had been cast from the Vaellanius mold. Elowyn pondered whether the staff was chosen with certain qualities in mind, or whether service in the household forged them in similar patterns. Come to think of it, many of them had those dark Vaellanius eyes, and that couldn’t be changed, could it?

“Promising, aren’t they?” asked Venerandus, marking his tablet.

“Are they new?” asked Elowyn. The household was so large that she had trouble keeping track of all the slaves and guards. She’d been working hard to match the names of all the apprentices to their faces and backgrounds.

“They were born here, children of slaves. We test all the children and assign them to various departments based on their talents and abilities. They’re trained from a young age. These two showed magical aptitude. As slaves, they couldn’t go to the Circle for training. We have our own in-house system for producing guards.”

“So you’re telling me that not everyone with magical talents gets sent to the Circle? Does that mean elven slaves don’t have that opportunity?”

“Only those with extraordinary talent. Such as yourself,” Venerandus coughed and looked away, slightly embarrassed. Elowyn supposed he still felt a little uncomfortable taking orders from an elf. Many of the staff believed she’d attained her position through her charm rather than her magical ability, to put it nicely. It was time to demonstrate there was more to her than a trim waist and a pretty voice. She handed her wrap to Venerandus and stepped into the ring.

“Alright you two,” she called out, “Show me what you’re made of!” The guards turned toward her. The female guard grinned and prepared to cast. Elowyn could take advantage of that one’s overconfidence. The male guard looked slightly apprehensive. He was the dodger and was already sweating a little from slipping between the woman’s hexes. They almost looked like twins with the same dark eyes.

The woman cast a hex. Elowyn easily deflected it with her staff, sending it toward the guy. He rolled out of the way. Venerandus made a mark on his tablet. Elowyn wondered if he was scoring her as well. She flicked her fingers and surrounded the guy with ice mines, trapping him momentarily. Meanwhile, the woman had been busy setting up a paralysis trap for Elowyn. She began throwing fireballs, trying to herd Elowyn into the marks.

Elowyn cast an ice wall and, while the latest fireball fizzled against the ice, leapt up and pulled the woman by reaching through the Fade, much the way a mage transports herself by fade-stepping. But Elowyn’s trick pulled the other mage right into her own trap, and she was paralyzed.

The male guard had gotten through the ice mines, though the cold was slowing him down. Elowyn called up tangling vines to bind him, but suddenly he blinked out of sight and appeared behind her. She dodged, but his lightning bolt slashed her ankle. She cast petrify, yet again he evaded her. Her hunch that he was the trickier opponent had proved correct.

Meanwhile, the female guard recovered from paralysis. She grimaced with wounded pride. Knowing that the male guard was about to target her, Elowyn fade-stepped behind the female guard, who’d been getting ready to hit her with an affliction hex. Elowyn grabbed the woman’s shoulder, sending her off-balance. The hex hit the male guard just as his spell, intended for Elowyn, hit the female guard instead. The woman gasped as bruises appeared all over her body. Elowyn looked at the male guard in consternation: he’d just used blood magic.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that Caius’ guards had been trained in blood magic, but the force of the guard’s spell betrayed an unexpected talent.

“Thalia!” the guard howled, rushing toward his writhing victim. Elowyn hit him with stonefist, knocking him out cold.

“Bastard! You meant that spell for me, but you hit your friend instead,” she muttered.

Venerandus chuckled and added up his columns of figures. “Match goes to the First Enchanter!” he declared. Elowyn did a mock curtsey.

She noticed a servant trying to get her attention. “Yes, what is it?” she asked.

“Excuse me, First Enchanter, but there’s a visitor at the door insisting that she be let in.”

“Well, who is it?”

The servant gulped, clearly still rattled by the visitor’s behavior. Elowyn wondered why the guards hadn’t just sent the person packing.

“She… she says she is your mother.”

Elowyn clapped her hand over her mouth and groaned.

The veterans’ residence was different in the Fade. That wasn’t unexpected, but after wandering through a few of the rooms, Elowyn realized that it must have been a private home before its present function. She heard someone humming and peeked through a doorway. An old woman was sitting in a rocking chair, knitting.

“Hello?” she asked, not wishing to startle the spirit.

The woman paused and looked up at Elowyn. “Hello, dear. What brings you here?”

Was it odd that the spirit wasn’t surprised to see her? Elowyn showed her the scabbard. “Do you know anything about this?”

The woman put down her knitting and examined the scabbard. She held it as if it were a weighty object. She held it up to Elowyn, “Can you not see the bloodstains?”

As Elowyn watched, the leather of the scabbard became splashed with blood. She touched one of the splatters, and the Fade shifted. She saw Olybrius and another man talking quietly.

“I received a letter from Nicasia. She said Eutolmius had been demoted and transferred for ‘spreading slanderous rumors.’ Eutolmius had told her he’d seen the sword.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Olybrius.

“What can I do? The Decanus has been promoted. It’s the word of an officer against the vague suspicions of a legionary.”

Olybrius patted the man, who must have been Decentius, on the shoulder. “Perhaps that mage you know can help. He must have contacts in the Magisterium.”

Decentius sighed. “It’s worth a shot.”

The scene faded, and Elowyn was back in the room with the old woman, who handed the scabbard back to her and smiled. “Did that help, dearie?”

“I think so,” said Elowyn hesitantly. “What is it you’re knitting?”

The woman held up the work in her lap. “It’s a map. Do you see where it happened?”

Elowyn scrutinized the tangle of threads. All of a sudden, the pattern came together, and she recognized a map of Seheron and the shore of Tevinter across the Straits of Ventosus.  There was a knot of red thread in Seheron, and a ship sailing toward Carastes.

“I think I know where I have to go,” said Elowyn. “Thank you for helping me.”

“It’s what I do,” said the spirit, and resumed her knitting and humming.

Elowyn stepped back through the Veil, thinking a veterans’ home was a good place for a spirit of Compassion. She’d been lucky.  She hoped her luck would hold for the next step: seeing if the Master would agree to let her go to Carastes on what could turn out to be a wild nug chase.

A messenger brought a note from Caius ordering Elowyn to remain living at the manor. There was no explanation. “Either he’s going to tell me in person what’s going on, or he’s just going to pretend it didn’t happen,” thought Elowyn to herself.

In either case, she needed to get on with her project of tracking down the third victim before he expired. His name was Decentius Opilio, and he was a soporatus swordsman, a veteran of the war. He’d been discharged because of extensive injuries, apparently recovered, and then mysteriously fallen into a state of unconsciousness. His body was being tended in a veterans home. One of the healers brought Elowyn to Decentius’ bed.

“We’ve tried everything,” said the healer, “but he hasn’t woken up.”

“What were the circumstances surrounding his collapse?” asked Elowyn.  “Had he gone out, or had any visitors here at the home?”

“He had gone out by himself one evening. The veterans who are ambulatory can come and go as they please – the home is part of the benefits system. Most veterans choose to live with their families, of course, but some of the returning soldiers either don’t have families or their families can’t provide the extent of care they need for their injuries. Veterans can live here the rest of their lives, if they wish. We have a group of old soldiers here who tell the most marvelous stories.”

“I would love to document them!”

“I’m sure they’d be glad to regale you with their tales. The old folks don’t get many visitors, especially young ladies,” the healer smiled.

“So do you know where Decentius went that evening? Where was he found?”

“I’m afraid no one knows. We assumed he’d just gone to the pub, but he was found in the street. No one saw him collapse.”

“Do you think his body could have been left there by someone?”

“Ah, you think this might be the result of a magical attack? I don’t know why anyone would choose to harm Decentius. He didn’t have any enemies, as far as I know.”

“Does Decentius have any possessions here at the home? Any war mementoes or items he was particularly attached to?” Elowyn asked. The healer looked at her strangely. She probably thought Elowyn was one of those loonies who believe in seer magic – the kind of parlor tricks low-level mages perform to bilk coin from the gullible, such as making contact with departed loved ones.

“He has a few items in his chest there. You can take a look.”

The healer kept an eye on Elowyn as she searched through Decentius’ chest. It contained some carefully-folded military uniforms and toiletry items such as boot polish. There was a small chest of medals. Elowyn examined them closely, but didn’t feel any enchantments emanating from them. At the bottom of the chest was an empty scabbard. Elowyn held it out to the healer.

“Is there a sword for this scabbard?”

“Not that I know of. We did wonder why he kept an old, empty scabbard, but he was attached to it – wouldn’t let us toss it out.”

After freeing the first two victims, Elowyn had a better idea of how the mage tricked each person, and this scabbard practically cried out to her. Now she just needed to get a moment alone with it so she could cross into the Fade.

“Would any of his friends here know why he kept this scabbard?”

“You’re welcome to ask. He was buddies with Olybrius Visellius. He’s probably in the dayroom playing cards.”

“Mind if I take this to show him?”

“That old thing? He doesn’t need it, wherever he is now.”

Elowyn thought that perhaps he did, but she wasn’t about to explain the situation to the healer. Sure enough, Olybrius was playing cards with some friends. She was surprised to discover that he wasn’t an old man. He was only a few years older than Caius, by her estimate. She’d assumed that veterans in the home would all be elderly, but she supposed that some of them were invalids. Come to think of it, perhaps Decentius wasn’t as old as she’d thought, merely wasted from being ill.

She begged Olybrius’ pardon for pulling him away from his game.

“S’okay. Was losing anyway!” he chortled. She handed him the scabbard and asked if he knew anything about it. He took it and ran a hand over the leather. “Now this,” he said, “has been with him through many a battle.”

“What happened to the sword?”

“Ah, now there’s a story! Decentius’ patrol was ambushed, and he was left for dead on a beach in Seheron. A squad discovered him a few days after the battle – he was wandering, incoherent. They took him back to camp, to the infirmary. The sword had gone missing, probably taken as a trophy by one of the horned bastards.”

“And he never woke up?” Elowyn asked, concerned that she was on a wild nug chase. Perhaps Decentius hadn’t been one of the mage’s victims after all.

“Oh, no, that was years ago. He was invalided out and wound up here, where I got to know him. No, he was a hearty fellow – had his aches and pains from his war wounds, right enough, the occasional bad spell. But he hadn’t any family left, ye see. The military was his family. Sure was troubled about that sword though.”

“Did he have any friends from outside the home? Anyone in town?”

“He went out on occasion. Man’s business, if ye know what I mean.” Olybrius winked at her. She hoped she didn’t blanch, thinking of the brothel and what went on there.

“Did he mention any of them by name?”

“The girls?” asked Olybrius, giving her a strange look.

“Any men? Friends, I mean, not… umm…”

“Oh, huh,” Olybrius laughed. “There was one. I remember him talking about the Master, what was it… the Master of Knots, I think he said. I just figured it was some fancy mage title, place is crawling with ‘em. No offense!”

“None taken! I’d never seen so many mages in my entire life before I came to Minrathous.”

“Ah, I could tell by your accent that you were Orlesian. Who did you say you worked for again?”

“Medical Examiner’s Office,” Elowyn responded, thinking it was sort of true. In a sense. She had confirmation that Decentius had been mixed up with the sadistic mage. But finding the sword sounded almost impossible, especially if it had fallen into enemy hands. Maybe she could interview his old squad mates and see if any of them had more information.

“What was his squad? I’m hoping to track down his mates,” she asked Olybrius.

Olybrius shook his head at Elowyn’s ignorance of Imperial military organization. “His Legion was the 8^th Carastes. You’d want to talk to his Centurion, though she’s probably been promoted by now: Aquilia Crispina.”

“Thank you very much for your help, Olybrius.”

“It’s not every day I get a pretty female visitor! Come on back if you have more questions. Hope you can do something for poor Decentius.”

Elowyn smiled, “I’ll try.” She took her leave of Olybrius, and when she got to a quiet hallway with no one in sight, she stepped into the Fade to investigate the scabbard.

Even Vespuccio’s gripping Lives of the Demon Hunters couldn’t keep Elowyn’s mind from wandering back to her encounter with Caius. She found herself smiling as she recalled his masterful touch, his powerful body and indomitable will. His kiss! She felt transformed.

Contemplating her reflection in her mirror, she touched the revenant’s mark on the hollow of her throat. She’d arrived in Minrathous a naïve, unworldly young woman. Now she was a powerful mage, a Dreamer who could shape the fabric of the Fade, First Apprentice to a Magister. “Watch out, missy,” she told herself, “Don’t let Pride get you!”

She grimaced at the possible repercussions of giving in to Caius’ seduction. Jealousy had already reared its ugly self in the form of the slave Arine. Nazlik had been sent away for her own protection, and Elowyn had taken advantage of her absence. She liked and respected Nazlik, yet she had betrayed her. Perhaps it had merely been curiosity on Caius’ part. Now that he’d had her, he might lose interest and move on to the next conquest. She regarded herself coolly, her eyes darkening to a gloaming violet. She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a knot. She smoothed her black satin corset and hooked a glittering black obsidian earring into each earlobe. Long gloves – it wouldn’t do to go out without them. A velvet cloak with a hood. It was warmer in Tevinter than in Orlais, but the evening brought a cool breeze off the ocean.

She wondered if Guy would notice how she’d changed. How much to confess? She had to keep her special talent a secret, lest another Magister try to kidnap her. Why was Guy working for the city Templars and not for Magistra Aurelie? She straightened one of the flounces on her black organdy skirt and tightened the buckle on her left boot. A locket to cover the key-mark. There, ready.

It was a night full of possibilities. A misty breeze blew, loosening a few tendrils of her hair. She was meeting Guy at a pub near the Archon’s palace called the Staff & Dragon. The large moon followed her through the streets. Someone whistled at her, and she smiled. Attention from men didn’t scare her anymore. She shaped a coiled vine in her hand and dissolved it again. She could shape plants on this side of the Veil – could she shape animals, too? Maybe by summoning wisps and transforming them. She’d have to experiment.

She reached the pub and entered, spying Guy at a table in the corner. He was such a big man, and so handsome in a charming Orlesian way that he made her smile. It would be good to speak her first language again. She wondered if she’d speak it with a Tevene accent after all these months.

Guy smiled when he saw her. She doffed her cloak and sat down. “What are you having?” asked Guy.

“Red wine for me,” she answered, and he raised his hand and ordered for her.

“You look wonderful!” he said, admiring her.

She grinned. “Different?” she asked, turning her head side to side, setting her dangling earrings swinging.

Guy laughed. “You look all grown up, a proper Tevinter mage.”

“I like your Tevinter Templar armor,” said Elowyn. “It’s a pleasant change.”

“I’ll bet!” laughed Guy.

“Is it very different, not using lyrium?”

“It’s such a relief to break that addiction,” said Guy seriously. “I feel better physically, and mentally, too. Not being able to rely on lyrium-fueled powers has made me a better Templar as well.”

“How does that work exactly?” asked Elowyn.

“It’s not as simple as nullifying a mage’s mana, but there are techniques. I’ve had to study up on some new schools of magic and learn strategies. In fact, it’s been exciting! Especially working with the other Tevinter Templars – we have to coordinate in order to be effective. It’s more of a challenge, and I like that.”

“So Guy, how did you end up here? I… I really feel terrible about leaving you. Can you forgive me for that?”

“I was the one who told you to go. No apologies are necessary.” He squeezed her hand. “One of the grooms found me and brought me to my mother. She, ah… she’s a talented healer, let’s put it that way.”

“You mean she’s a mage, but never had to endure imprisonment?”

“The prerogative of the rich, yes – they find ways to keep their children out of the Circles. She had private tutors.”

“Now I know how she charms people so easily!” Elowyn laughed. “It’s magic!”

“Could be,” said Guy, taking a drink. “This wine is actually decent! I didn’t know one could get good wine outside of Orlais.”

“There are some excellent varietals produced right outside Minrathous! Both Magistra Aurelie and Magister Caius have vineyards. Master even said I can name a new grape that he’s breeding. Err, that his winemaster is breeding, shall we say. Ummm, about Magistra Aurelie – didn’t your mother want to send you to work for her? What happened with that?”

“I could ask the same thing of you,” said Guy.

“Well, I did start out there. But Aurelie and Caius did a deal – Caius’ daughter Cassia is supposed to marry Aurelie’s son, Batzas. Cassia inherits her mother’s father’s Senate seat, and since Aurelie has one of her own, Batzas inherits. So the power will be consolidated. I haven’t heard much about the wedding plans, though, and now Caius’ youngest daughter has been promised to one of his apprentices. It’ll be wedding season here! Better practice your dancing.”

“Always!” said Guy. “But what do you think of Magister Caius?”

“Templars have him under scrutiny, do they? I’m not surprised. Well,” she tried to suppress a smile, “He’s a revelation! When I first met him, he had me shaking in my boots. He embodied everything the Orlesian Chantry warned us about: the dangerously powerful, unchecked Tevinter Magister. And he is that. But he’s also a father, and head of the largest family organization in Tevinter. He commands armies and prevents the Qunari from sweeping through Tevinter and laying waste to Orlais and Ferelden. It’s been quite an education working for him.” Elowyn couldn’t suppress a blush.

Guy gave her a sharp look. “Is he more than just your boss?”

Elowyn took a sip of her wine. “I admire him,” she said carefully. “So, do you work for Magistra Aurelie or not?” she asked, turning the tables.

“Officially, all Tevinter Templars work for Circle of Magi, and therefore the Magisters and ultimately the Archon, not the Chantry. So, Aurelia being a Magister, yes, she’s one of my bosses.”

“Complicated!” said Elowyn. “I suppose that makes Magister Caius your boss as well.”

“Yes, I suppose it does,” he said, sipping his wine.

She told him a condensed version of her adventures, and he talked about his journey north and all the wonder of seeing Minrathous for the first time. He was especially in awe of the Juggernauts.

“I’d give anything to see those in action!” he said like an excited schoolboy.

“Let’s hope we never have to see that,” admonished Elowyn, “though I admit I’m curious. They’re absolutely humongous! Imagine them hurling boulders at the Qunari. They could probably pick up whole buildings and throw them.”

“You know, I heard something about the damage to the Library’s dome,” said Guy. “People are saying a dragon did it?”

“Something like that,” said Elowyn, gazing into her wineglass.

“I’d love to see a dragon, too,” said Guy.

“Maybe you will!” said Elowyn.

They took leave of each other in the Orlesian fashion, with a kiss on each cheek, and Elowyn walked back to the manor, enjoying her walk under the stars. The Master would want to hear about the new Templar. She looked forward to seeing Caius again.

The look on Caius’ face when he saw what Arine had done to Elowyn could crumble fortresses. “Where is she? I’ll stretch her neck with my own hands for this!” The scary part was that his voice was neither loud nor thunderous. He spoke in such a low, menacing tone that the hairs on the nape of Elowyn’s neck prickled. She was glad she wasn’t the object of his anger.

“Master, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about this matter for some time.”

“I should have sold that little b*tch months ago!” He came over to Elowyn and put his hand up to her face, sending a wave of healing energy through her. She hadn’t asked to be healed, he had simply decided to erase the evidence. He kissed her forehead. She had a moment of dizziness: power was emanating from him. It seemed to jump from him to her, as if their mana would combine into an incendiary substance. She stepped back a little.

“Forgive me, Little One. I couldn’t stand to see her marks on your face.”

“Forgive me, Master, for saying this, but I don’t think it’s entirely the slave’s fault. These women you keep… I know you feel that you are protecting them by seeing to their basic needs, but idleness breeds discord. They are like spirited horses kept in a stable: these women are trained entertainers with no audience.”

“They can see to the guards and apprentices. I’m sure they do so on a regular basis,” said Caius dismissively. “Have to see to the men’s needs as well. Better for the stallions to remain in my own stable than to let them roam all over the city.”

“Yet you are the leader of the herd, and it is you the mares seek,” replied Elowyn, extending the comparison.

Caius grinned. “Which means I get to choose!” He stepped close to her again and put his arm around her.

“Master, I am no mare!” she said, trying to sidle away. He held her tightly.

“You are a spirited filly, it’s true, and you need a gentle yet firm trainer,” he breathed into her ear. She felt a flush of heat. How vexing of him to turn the tables like that! Wresting control of her metaphor – she would show him! She leaned forward like she was going to whisper into his ear and bit his earlobe instead.

“This filly bites the impudent!” she said. But instead of scaring him off, her bite only provoked him. He grabbed a handful of her hair and bent her head back.

“Don’t forget that you are my slave, too,” he whispered hoarsely, and bit her on the neck.

She pushed against his chest. It was like trying to move a boulder. He laughed at her paltry efforts. His hand crackled with a little electricity, and he placed it on her derriere and zinged her. She jumped, shrieking a little.

“Don’t make me fight you, Master,” she warned.

“You don’t have to fight me. Just submit. There’s always a choice,” he said smugly. He twirled her hair in his hand, letting the silky strands run through his fingers.

“Just what am I submitting to?” she asked warily.

“Oh, so you choose to submit? I admit I’m pleased, though subduing you would also have been my pleasure.”

He was so sure of himself, it was too infuriating! The urge to step through the Veil and leave him empty-handed was strong, but she also wished to win this fight fair and square. She couldn’t play the Nazlik trump card again – he had decided to break whatever vows he’d made to his bodyguard, and why wouldn’t he? A Magister, used to having a harem of slaves at his disposal, had made promises to yet another slave. Though she was the mother of his child, Nazlik was also his property, and the Alta of Tevinter were brought up to take whatever caught their eyes.

She could see him watching her as if he could read all the thoughts racing through her head. A look approaching pity touched his features, then he smiled again. He had her trapped, and he knew it. He brushed her lips with the tips of his fingers.

“Ah, beautiful! It’s almost a shame to see your defenses crumble like the surrender of a great general. Did you think, when I acquired you, that I wanted you only for your magical talent?”

Elowyn tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. Her eyes were locked to his. She was overcome by a feeling of inevitability, like a hare in the hands of the hunter. She had admitted to him in the alleyway that she wanted him, too. She had thought, foolishly, that his devotion to Nazlik would keep her safe. Why did she continue to resist? There was a tiny voice inside her telling her that giving in to her desire for him would doom them both.

He let go of her hair and stepped back. She breathed a sigh of relief. Caius turned toward the door.

And locked it.

Talking with Vel had put Elowyn in a good mood. She was chatting with Venerandus about scheduling when they were interrupted by one of the slaves.

“You!” she said, pushing Elowyn in the chest with her sharp fingers.

“See here!” said Venerandus, “Hands off the First Apprentice!”

The woman was unfazed. She continued to glare at Elowyn, her eyes burning with hatred. “Who do you think you are, you little strumpet?! You’re not better than the rest of us, you with your ginger hair. You should be in the kitchens making coffee, not seducing your betters! Why, you’re not even a courtesan! You should know, the Master prefers blondes. You don’t stand a chance!”

“What are you talking about?” asked Elowyn. “The Master? I don’t even know who you are!”

Venerandus started to tell the woman to get back to her duties, but she interrupted him with another tirade. “We’ve all watched how you wiggled your way into his bed, you with your Orlesian accent and pretty ways. Well, you can’t have him! He loves me! I’m the one he calls Ashala, not you! And not that monstrous Qunari wh*re, either!” The woman was practically screaming.

“You forget yourself!” yelled Venerandus. Elowyn could see he was readying a thunderbolt. She put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I’m sorry if the Master has set you aside,” she informed the livid woman, “but I can assure you it wasn’t on my account. He has his own priorities, and takes no counsel from his apprentices.”

The slave completely lost control of herself at Elowyn’s words and rushed toward her, claws out. She raked them across Elowyn’s face, drawing blood. Venerandus wrestled her away, calling for the guards. Elowyn stood there in shock, the blood dripping down onto her bodice.

“My lady, let me heal that for you,” said Venerandus.

“No,” said Elowyn, backing away. “The Master should see the result of his neglect.”

Elowyn was heading for the training grounds when she saw Publius coming towards her. There was no avoiding him. She braced herself for one of his unpleasant jibes. To her surprise, he gave her a big grin and asked her how her day was going.

“Are you okay?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m excellent!” he declared.

“Any particular reason for your good mood?” she asked. He obviously had some good news – he was practically bursting with it.

“You’ve heard about my engagement?” he asked.

“Umm, no, I’m afraid I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

“Miriel and I are contracted to marry!” he said, beaming.

“Miriel… Vaellanius? Wow, congratulations! So, part of the family now? That is good news.” Elowyn wondered how Miriel felt about it, but she wasn’t about to bring Publius down – his friendly behavior was a welcome change. Funny how Tevinter was all about contracts: slave contracts, marriage contracts, immigration papers – all made work for the archivists.

“Publius, about my promotion – I wanted to assure you that I didn’t ask for it,” she explained.

Expecting some harsh words, she was shocked when he simply patted her on the shoulder and said, “You deserve it. Master Caius explained it to me. Besides, as Miriel’s husband I’ll have new duties and responsibilities.”

“If you have any tips for keeping the other apprentices in line, I’d love to hear them!” laughed Elowyn. She’d never had to manage other mages before.

“Just keep them busy so they can’t get into trouble,” Publius suggested. “idle mages are terrible gossips!”

She wished him well, and he went on his way, whistling. She liked this new Publius! Imagine if they could actually be friends. He hadn’t mentioned her ears once in the entire conversation.

“He hasn’t gotten any nookie yet, and he’s already whistling,” said a voice behind her.

She turned to look. “Vel!” she said in surprise, a smile breaking out on her face.

“Oh, so you remembered my name,” he said. “Thought someone else had turned your head.”

“If you can count a tree as a rival, I guess you’re right,” she replied.

“Huh?” he asked, puzzled. “Is that some figure of speech?”

She laughed. “No, just a strange experience in the Fade.”

“I see. It’s a mage thing.”

“It’s not some secret club, you know.”

“Yeah, well we mundanes don’t get to traipse across the Veil and hang out with demons on a regular basis.”

“Be glad for it,” she said. “You also don’t need to fear possession and having your head separated from your shoulders.”

“Anyone who works for Caius should worry for his head,” said Vel with a grimace.

“How was your time with the troops?” asked Elowyn.

Vel shrugged. “You know how I feel about strategy versus tactics. I like to get things done, not talk about them endlessly.”

“That’s where Publius comes in – he loves that stuff!” laughed Elowyn. “I expect you’ve heard his news?”

“Indeed! It falls to me to plan his stag night.” Vel waggled his eyebrows.

“It makes me wish I could attend! Perhaps I should dress in drag?”

“My dear, there is no way in Thedas you could pass as a man,” said Vel, looking her up and down.

“Aww, surely I could dress as a boy?”

Vel’s gaze lingered on her chest. “’Fraid not, missy, not without a great deal of bandages. Nope, the ladies shall not invade our night of revelry! Not those wearing bandages, anyway.” Vel winked.

“Perhaps I should take Miriel out for a bit of fun then? I hear some male slaves of my race are quite talented… dancers,” she said suggestively.

Vel whistled. “Just don’t tell Publius! He’s old-fashioned about bridal pucelage.”

“He thinks Miriel an innocent? Caius’ daughter?!” asked Elowyn incredulously. She’d heard stories of the wild ways of the Magister’s daughters.

“You know, that gives me an idea for a song! Yes, I’ll compose a little ditty for the stag party!”

“I’ll have to warn Miriel to play the part of the spotless maiden,” said Elowyn.

“I’m sure you can find her at that rascal Monkai’s house,” laughed Vel.

“Oh, dear!” said Elowyn, laughing.

“So,” said Caius, “Does he come out of the stein now?”

“Not that shimple, unfortunately,” replied Elowyn. “We have to go in.”

“In? It’s a bit small, don’t you agree? For the both of us.”

“Tight fit. We’ll have to snuggle up!” Elowyn winked. She moved close to Caius, who, misinterpreting her advance, wrapped his arms around her. She giggled and took him into the stein.

He gazed around himself in wonder. Elowyn realized she probably shouldn’t have attempted that maneuver while tipsy, but they seemed to be in the right place: the figures decorating the outside of the stein were brought to life in the Fade. There was a woman playing hurdy-gurdy, and seated at a table was a little group of card players. Elowyn recognized Vel and Galatea and Caradoc. Strange.

“Err, Master, do you see Vel and Galatea over there?”

“How’d they get in here?” asked Caius, scratching his head.

“Must’ve plucked those images from our minds, eh?” asked Elowyn. The hurdy-gurdy music was making her want to dance. Her feet seemed to move of their own volition, and she started spinning a circle with her arms out, lost her balance, and stumbled into Caius, who caught her.

“Whoopsy daisy!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe we should have shobered up firsht?” asked Elowyn, blinking.

“Nonshense! I’m perfeckly shober!” declared Caius. He led her unsteadily over to the table. The card players looked up, grinned, and made room for them.

“Deal me in!” shouted Caius. His gaze fixed on an unknown man across the table, whose visage paled when he appeared to recognize Caius. “Frank Crichton!” Caius thundered.

The man jumped, knocking his chair over. “Who let you in here?” he said, his voice quavering. Elowyn looked questioningly from Caius to the man.

“Sit down,” said Caius, his voice menacingly quiet. The man righted his chair and took his seat again, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “What are we playing?” asked Caius.

Galatea sat back in her seat and regarded Caius. “Dubi. What about the girl?”

Elowyn gave Caius a worried look. She was good at card games, but too tiny to win a drinking game against shemlens… or demons, rather. Did demons get drunk? What if Caius lost? Would they both be trapped here at the eternal gaming table?

“The girl deals,” said Caius. Galatea passed him the cards, and he handed them to Elowyn. She wondered if she could shape the cards and get them out of here more quickly. But the demons would probably sense what she was doing. She tried to keep her hands steady as she shuffled and cut the cards, then dealt five to each player.

Each player took turns showing one of their cards, then bets were made. Caradoc showed a Jack of Pies. “Two Pair,” he said.

“Hmm, I’ll grant that,” said Galatea. “Credo.” Frank and Vel both said, “Credo,” then it was Caius’ turn. He turned his black gaze on the Caradoc demon, and a sly smile twitched the corner of his mouth. “Dubi!” he said with relish. Caradoc laid down his hand. He had only one pair. Galatea, Vel and Frank had to drink. Elowyn gathered up the cards and dealt each player a new hand.

Vel’s turn came around. He pushed his hair back and blew out a breath. “I got nothing!” he declared. The demon shot a glance at Elowyn. She was having a difficult time remembering that the card players were not actually her friends. She wondered if Caius saw them the same way she did. She noticed him looking at her as well. She thought Vel was lying, but she felt an illogical compunction against sending a signal to Caius. They were playing against demons, and they needed to win, so why did she feel she needed to be fair?

The other players made their guesses. “Credo,” said Caius, and Elowyn winced. But he was right! Vel had to drink.

The game went round, with the players getting progressively drunker. Caius lost a few rounds and had to drink, too, but he seemed composed. At one point, Frank burped and slowly slid off his chair onto the floor. Then Caradoc threw his cards into the air, said, “I’m out,” took two steps and collapsed. Eventually, Vel was out, too, and it was down to Caius vs. Galatea. Elowyn could see that Caius’ eyes were bloodshot, and sweat dripped down his forehead. The next hand put a big smile on Galatea’s face. She turned over the Archon of Daggers.  “Full House,” she declared.

“Druffalo poop!” said Caius. “Dubi!”

Galatea turned over her hand. She had a Full House. Caius had to drink, but instead he turned over his hand, showing two of the same cards as Galatea. “Cheating Demon,” he said menacingly, “This game is over.”

Galatea jumped up, her body morphing into a grotesque, distorted version of the real person. It snarled at Caius, its claws lengthening. Caius stood up, a bit unsteadily, and Elowyn prepared to cast a shield. But the demon’s eyes rolled up in its head, and it fell over backwards, out cold.

Caius went over to where Frank lay and shook him. “Time to go,” he said, and slapped Frank’s face, trying to wake him up. Elowyn hurried over, anxious to get Frank out of the stein before the demons woke up again. She and Caius each put an arm around Frank and hoisted him up. The three of them walked unsteadily toward the door. Frank started singing. Caius rolled his eyes.

Elowyn opened the door, and they stepped out of the Fade and back into the room. With relief, she saw consciousness return to Frank’s body. He sat up suddenly. “Who won?” he asked.

“I did,” said Caius. Frank turned to look at him and paled, shrinking back against the wall. “Funny how things work out,” said Caius.

“How do you know this man?” asked Elowyn.

Caius smiled sardonically. “I’ve been looking for him for a while. Thought he’d slipped my noose. You’re my lucky coin, Elowyn.”

She didn’t like the look on Caius’ face. They’d just saved this man, Frank, and she wasn’t anxious to see him dragged into Caius’ torture chamber.

“Caius,” she said, putting a hand on his arm.

He turned to her. “Don’t worry, little one, once he recovers, he’ll be another arrow in my quiver.” Caius went over to the window and made a gesture. Guards entered the inn and took Frank, aka “Fulgentius” away.

“They were there the whole time?” asked Elowyn in consternation.

“Of course,” replied Caius, “I didn’t become a Magister by being careless.”

“So he’s a spy?” asked Elowyn.

“Now he’s my spy,” said Caius. “Come on, let’s go.” He picked up the stein and put it in his robe. Elowyn wondered just how drunk her Master was. He certainly didn’t act like her father, who’d been a maudlin, soppy drunk. Caius seemed sober, but she noticed a slight unsteadiness to his walk.

They emerged into the cool night air. Caius put his arm around Elowyn’s shoulder and pulled her close as they walked. “You surprised me, Master. I never knew you were a card shark.”

Caius raised an eyebrow at her and cracked a smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said “Did you think I was always a stuffy old Magister?”

“You’re not old!” said Elowyn hotly.

Caius smiled ruefully. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Elowyn blushed, glad the darkness hid her rosy cheeks. She was enjoying having her Master’s arm around her a little too much.

“Shortcut,” said Caius as they approached an alley. He steered her into its narrow entrance. Halfway down, he stopped and put both hands on her shoulders. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Here?” she asked, her voice unnaturally high. She looked around nervously.

“You know how I feel about you,” said Caius.

Elowyn swallowed. “Master, we… we can’t. Nazlik…”

The Master’s face was very close to hers. He took her chin in his hand. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me,” he demanded.

Her troubled gaze met his. “I do want you,” she said slowly, “but… you made a commitment to Nazlik. She told me. And Vel… too many people would be hurt. It… it could also be dangerous, for both of us.”

Caius brushed her hair back from her face. His breathing was a little ragged. She could feel the heat from his body. “Do you think I can’t handle a little danger?” he asked, his mouth curving in a smile. He put his hand behind her head and pressed his lips against hers. She felt an answering heat course through her body. She wanted to give in, but she knew it was unwise. He was a little drunk. Maybe he would regret it if he lost control. She tried to push him away.

He pressed her back against the wall of the alley, his hands lifting her skirt, his mouth against her throat. Her traitorous heart was telling her to submit, to let him take her right there in the alley. “Master, stop,” she whispered raggedly. He let go of her reluctantly. She bit her lip.

He stroked her cheek and looked at her gently. “You know that you have only to say yes, and I am yours.”

She leaned her head on his hand and blinked back tears. “It’s wrong,” she said, her voice trembling. “It will destroy us.”

“We are strong,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I will prove it to you.”

He tucked her arm in his and led her back to the Manor.