Luck - Chapter 12

Eliza stands, looking around, hands on her hips. She opens her mouth to speak, and yet as she does an ear-splitting scream in heard from the other side of the far wall. Aveline's eyes narrow, and without a second though she marches towards the other door. Eliza follows close behind, wondering what had happened. Aveline opens the door with a thunderous boom, nearly splintering the wood as the doorknob collides with the wall. Eliza steps out in front of her, approaching the man.

He is scrawny, and shrew-like, his thing hands wrapped tightly around a vial of fresh blood. He is standing between them and an older woman, who is wrought with tears, nursing a wound on her wrist.

"You.. You aren't him."

"You were expecting someone else?"

Eliza crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow at the Orlesian.

"Shit! I.. I know what zis looks like, but z'ere iz a killere out zere!"

It takes all of Isabela's restraint not to laugh at the man's speech, biting on her bottom lip roughly.

"You must understand, zis killere targets women. First he zends zem a bouquet of white lillies, and zen he takes zem! He.. He murdered my sister, and now, I want revenge.. Alessa was goin'g to be next, I took her so he would have to come to me."

Gascard looks between the four, urgency in his words but not his stature. Eliza eyes him slowly, pursing her lips slightly,

"What'd you do to her?"

She nods towards Alessa, and the woman gladly accepts the opportunity to speak out,

"He's lying to you..! He.. He hurt me..!"

"For the last time, it was for you protection! I need your blood so I can save you if he takes you!"

Gascard practically snarls towards the woman as she scurries away from him, before looking back towards the group. Anders holds his tongue -- no, Justice's tongue -- from lashing out to the man with rage. Just as he starts to lose his internal battle, Eliza speaks once more,

"You're a blood mage, aren't you. Don't you think that hurts your credibility? At least a smidgen.."

Justice's rage cools for a moment, though Anders can not keep the though of driving his stave through the man and watching him melt into nothing but bones out of his mind.

"I am telling you, zis killere is pitting us against eachozer!"

"Well couldn't you have told what you told me to the guard?"

Eliza keeps her arms crossed, not for a moment letting her guard down.

"Yes, couldn't you?"

Aveline frowns as she crosses her arms as well.

"I do not want zis monstere arres'ted! I want to kill ze bastard myself."

"I don't believe a single word out of your mouth, Gascard."

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Emily pulls the hood of her shawl tighter around her head. It was late, she had been fighting the itch to go out; She knew Varric would never want her out this late. She slips through Hightown, and walks up the steps. She looks up at the high doors of Kirkwall's Chantry, before slipping inside.

She just wants to see him. The man that sometimes came to see Anders with Hawke. With his dark hair and shiny armor... Emily is enraptured. She walks carefully past the candles that border the path into the center of the Chantry. 'Is he still here?' She bites her lip as she looks around, nearly bumping into one of the pillars.

"Are you lost?"

Emily freezes. It was him. She turns, smiling nervously,

"I -- No. I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am!"

She grins sheepishly, pulling the hood tighter over her face. Sebastian perks a brow, before giving a gentle chuckle,

"Well, Andraste did say that those who are lost always find their way to the Light. I just assumed.."

Emily shakes her head, pursing her lips softly, looking up at him. Her eleven year old heart pounds against her chest, her hands clenched tightly on her cloak. Sebastian walks towards one of the pews, settling down. She follows him, sitting with some space between them yet.

"You're Emily, right? Anders' daughter."

The name is like ashes beneath his tongue. The abomination had produced a child not only before marriage, but hadn't been active in her life for eight years. Emily holds her breath for a second, nodding, 'Maker, he knows my name!' She tugs her hood down, letting her gently curled, dirty blonde hair fall about her shoulders, freckles barely visible on her cheeks in the dim candlelight.

"Do you mind if I ask you what brings you here, Emily?"

She looks up to him and swallows softly. But her tongue is faster than her thoughts;

"I was around. Plus, it's cold out."

Sebastian's eyes widen slightly,

"Your father let you out this late?"

"No. He's with Hawke. Varric's watching me until he comes back."

"So.. Varric let you out, then?"

He seems more relaxed by that thought.

"No.. I snuck out."

Emily shrugs slightly, as if there was no thought in the matter.

"Maker, why would you do that?"

"I wanted to."

She looks towards the lit candles, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip in the lingering silence. Sebastian nearly startles her when he speaks,

"Well, I'm not going to let you go back out into Hightown on your own, not this late at night. Why don't you stay here? I can send word to Hawke in the morning."

Emily watches him stand and beckon her to follow. She stands, playing with the clasp on her cloak, following Sebastian to a door at the very back of the Chantry. He knocks lightly,

"Elthina, are you still awake?"

After a short pause, the door creaks open, a small candle illuminating the aged face of the Grand Cleric,

"Sebastian, what are you.. Who is this..?"

Elthina squints softly in Emily's direction, eyebrows raised curiously.

"Grand Cleric, do you think this child could spend the night in your chambers? She managed to make her way through the streets once, but I do not want to risk her travelling again."

Emily swallows hard; everything her father had told her was ringing in the back of her mind. Plus he would be returning soon, she should be heading back towards Lowtown by now. But her protests die with one glance at Sebastian, and she finds herself following the Grand Cleric into her chambers.

As the door swings quietly shut, the Grand Cleric sets down the small candle at her nightstand, before lighting a few more. Emily stands in the center of the room while her heart pounds in her ears. Everything her father told her was screaming for her to leave. So she would find a way to leave, once the Grand Cleric was asleep. She sits down on a soft couch, her hands in her lap, unsure of how to waste the time it would take for Elthina to slip into slumber. But the Grand Cleric sits daintily beside her, speaking in a gentle tone,

"What's troubling you, child?"

Emily drops her shoulders and knots her fingers together, looking down towards her knees,

"Nothing.."

"Lying is a sin, child."

Emily looks up towards Elthina, blinking her faded green eyes as her heart seems to yearn; She wants to trust her. This gentle old woman who wants to talk with her. She wants to trust her; and so she does,

"I just.. I hate my magic. I don't want to hurt any one. I want to help people, like Papa does. I'm tired of being scared of myself.."

Elthina looks upon Emily with sympathy, wrapping her arm gently around her shoulders,

"If you fear it so, perhaps you should go to the Circle.. They'll be able to help you there."

Just as the lull of sleep starts to take her, Emily snaps back to attention at that one, single word. Circle.

"I.. I thank you for the thought, Grand Cleric, but, I don't want to go to the Circle.. I want to stay with Papa."

Elthina smiles gently, slowly standing,

"I understand, child."

Emily starts to drift off, sinking back into the soft cushions of the couch, her head leaning back, hands and shoulders relaxing. Elthina's smile turns saddened, as she walks towards her chamber door.

"I am sorry, child.. But this will be for your own good."

Elthina walks out to the templar quarters, her robe clasped tightly around her aging frame. She nods to the two guarding the door before heading inside. The Templar Lieutenant stands at attention,

"Your Grace! Is something wrong?"

"No.. I just wish to report that there is an apostate sleeping in my quarters. I want you to take her to the Circle.. Gently, if you please."