Morrigan is many things (whathavewehere) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-07-13 13:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, maia amell (the warden), morrigan |
Who: Maia and Morrigan
What: Morrigan dreams about the Well of Sorrows, and wakes up speaking Elvish. And she now knows some secrets of ancient Thedas.
When: This morning
Where: Morrigan's home
Warnings: PG-13 for mentions of war
Being in the Temple of Mythal had been incredibly eye-opening. The elves they had found there had shed light on some of what had happened. According to Abelas, the presumed leader of the ancient elves, Tevinter had never destroyed Arlathan, that the elves had already dwindled and were nothing more than a corpse upon which the Tevinter carrion fed upon.
So much seemed so strange, yet Morrigan wanted to get to that Well. Whatever it truly was, Corypheus wanted it and Morrigan was determined to not let him get it. So when Abelas went to destroy it, Morrigan shapeshifted into a raven and flew after him, intending to stop him. Perhaps the Well of Sorrows held the key they needed to defeat Corypheus.
Morrigan reached the Well in time to stop Abelas from destroying it, and upon further discussion, discovered that Mythal had never been banished into the Beyond by Fen’Harel, but that she had murdered instead and the Dread Wolf had no part of it. Elven lore, it seemed, was very wrong. Abelas allowed the Inquisitor to partake of the Well as they had shown respect to Mythal by completing the rituals. Morrigan convinced her to let her drink, saying that she’d studied the oldest lore and was the best prepared for it.
And so, Morrigan drank from the Well, and as a consequence, she was bound to the will of Mythal, a stipulation she did not think of as being bad considering Mythal was long-dead, if she ever even existed.
Morrigan woke with a start. “Where am I?” She asked in Elvish as she sat up, very disoriented. She heard many voices speaking to her in her mind. Elven elders who had poured their knowledge into the Well before they had died.
Sleeping through the night with normal dreams was not something Maia was used to, but it had happened, and she’d have to get used to it. She knew more things happened, but she just… didn’t remember them. Maybe she never would. A part of her was angry that that. She wanted to share in these things with Maia and Alistair.
“Huminwha?” Maia rolled over, rubbing sleep in her eyes. “Morrigan? Why are you speaking in elvish?”
Maia had her own travels, ones that thankfully kept her far away from Corypheus and the clusterfuck he’d created. Morrigan had been shoehorned into the Inquisition by Empress Celene, but she was more than willing to fight on the front lines once again. Corypheus was an even greater threat than the Blight, especially as he’d somehow corrupted the Wardens and made them all hear the Calling. Morrigan had silently hoped that Maia wasn’t hearing that wherever she was, which was why she was happy that Maia was far away at the time.
“What? Why do you ask me that?” Morrigan replied in Elvish. She shook her head a bit, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead as she got out of bed. It took a few moments, but finally her head cleared about it. “I am sorry, I am well,” she said in English finally.
“Okay.” Maia reached down into her pants and pulled out a small flask. She took a swig, then offered it. Emergency bad dream liquor. It was a thing? “What happened? Too much time in the Dales?”
Morrigan waved off the offer of liquor. She didn’t need it, not for this dream. It had been a relatively good one, although a disturbing one as well. “No, we were in the Arbor Wilds. There was an ancient temple of Mythal there that Corypheus was after. I had theorized he was after an Eluvian there, but it turned out to be rather more than that.” Taking a couple breaths, she sat down on the bed, trying to gain control over the lovely voices in her head.
Maia capped the flask, and sat up straighter, listening intently. “How many of these mirrors are there?” she put a hand on Morrigan’s leg. “And what more could it be?”
“There are more Eluvians than can be counted. Many are broken and unusable. Others are locked and require a key to open them. Others, however, have been left unlocked. There was an Eluvian within the Temple of Mythal, but there was also something called the Vir’Abelasan, or the Well of Sorrows.” Morrigan paused, momentarily distracted by the voices in her head speaking of the Well. It was almost too much, she couldn’t hear herself think.
“The Inquisitor and I made our way into the Temple and came face-to-face with elves. They were not Dalish. In fact, they pre-dated the Dalish. They called themselves sentinels, bound to the will of Mythal and woke from their slumber only to defend the Temple whenever it was disturbed. What we learned from them changes everything we believed to be true regarding the fall of Arlathan.”
“I wonder if more will show up, like yours did,” Maia mused. Truthfully she’d wanted to go through it. See if there was something on the other side. Maybe fight that something on the other side. Bring back trophies. Maybe disappear for awhile. “Ancient elves?” She sat up straighter, “That’s...that’s big.”
“For the sake of this world, let us hope not.” Morrigan had not unlocked her Eluvian since it had arrived. She knew the price to do it, and she wasn’t so certain she was willing to pay it in this life. Besides, she wasn’t running from someone who wanted to possess her in this world. “Yes, it was quite an experience. According to these elves, Tevinter never defeated them. The elves had fallen to in-fighting long before the Imperium ever arrived. It simply changes the perception quite a lot. Not to mention the Dalish have no idea that what they believe tis not truly accurate.” In Morrigan’s mind, she didn’t see why Abelas would have lied about that.
“So Tevinter just swept up the remains of a civil war?” Maia asked. She wondered if that changed the stories about the golden city. She was, after all, fairly certain that the city had turned black before the Magisters ever stepped foot onto it. “Granted, most peoples’ beliefs are not fully accurate either.”
“Tis how Abelas described it. Though you are correct. Many beliefs are not accurate. Things become lost in translation or people simply write their own version of events.” Like the Chantry. And Tevinter. And, well, everyone ever it seemed. “I know not the specifics of such a civil war, but in everything that I have studied and read, I never saw mention of it. Of course, little survives of the ancient world from before Andraste’s time, so tis not surprising.”
“Considering the time frames involved and how easy it is for those that remain to rewrite history, its not entirely surprising. I’ve never fully believed any one account in Thedas. Just like any one account in our own world is filled with inaccuracies or outright lies.” And she didn’t doubt that over time, the surviving elves would have turned to blaming Tevinter for what had happened, as a way of unifying.
“Precisely. Everything, regardless of what it is or even which world it is, is lost or altered.” Morrigan shook her head a bit. That was part of the reason she had a wish to preserve the ancient lore. “Though even with having met ancient elves, that is not the reason why I woke up speaking elvish.” Turning the conversation back to the original point. “The Well of Sorrows was where elves, at the end of their lives, would pool their knowledge. So as you can imagine, the Well contained knowledge beyond anything anyone could truly comprehend. Corypheus intended to have Calpernia drink from the Well and become the vessel. In essence, she would become bound to him the way he is able to control the Wardens and darkspawn.” She looked at Maia. “Believe me, as much as I know you would wish to be there fighting, tis best you are far away from him. He can bind Warden mages to him and instill the Calling within every Warden.”
The thought made Maia blanch, a chill running down her spine. Just hearing the darkspawn in general was bad enough (and sometimes, she thought she could hear them here, too). The Calling was another matter all together, and that this creature could instill the Calling just like that?
It terrified her. “Well that’s just...grand.”
“The Inquisitor put a stop to Corypheus corrupting the Wardens. He was attempting to unleash a demon army through the use of the Warden mages using blood magic rituals, which would end up with them being enslaved to him.” Morrigan reached over and set her hand on Maia’s arm. “Tis why I am more than relieved that you are not there in the dreams. That is not an experience you should be anywhere near.” While Morrigan hadn’t been there at Adamant, she’d heard about it. And she also knew about Corypheus’ powers from the voices from the Well that echoed in her head.
Maia’s expressions shifted from fear to anger in half a heart-beat. “What kind of bloody fools…?!” Blood magic was dangerous. A magic of last resort, and even then not something to be taken lightly. She knew she could be a bit hypocritical, but she thought she’d at least recognize when something was, well, terrible.
“From what I know, the Wardens all believed they were dying and were tricked into thinking doing what they were doing would put a permanent end to the Blights. Of course it was positively preposterous to think about, but when all of them were hearing the Calling at the same time, they were frightened and desperate to stop it.” Morrigan thought the entire thing was idiotic, that any coherent thought would tell people that was a terrible idea. But when one was desperate and scared, they would do even the most idiotic thing to stop it.
“If anything that would just make the Blights worse,” Maia growled. But she suddenly didnt know how she’d react, if she heard the calling and everyone else did too. She wondered if Alistair was close enough to hear it. It was a depressing thought. “ I hope I find a cure for the taint.”
“As do I. Also for the Wardens to not have a repeat of what happened at Adamant would be a positive as well.” Morrigan drew in a slow breath, again briefly distracted by the mutterings in her head. Talk of Corypheus seemed to make them quite talkative. “Now, more to the point of why I woke up speaking Elvish. We made it to the Well before Corypheus and the Inquisitor convinced Calpernia to not drink from it. I stopped Abelas from destroying it and he said as we had paid respect to Mythal that we could partake from the Well. After a discussion, I drank from the Well.”
She let that hang there for a moment as her head tilted to the side a little, her gaze going a bit unfocused. “The voices of the ancient elves speak to me from across the ages, telling me of many things. I believe that they hold the key to defeating Corypheus for he is like an Archdemon, his soul jumping into the nearest tainted creature, be it Warden or Darkspawn and becomes them.”
“You drank from a magical well? Is that wise? What about side effects? Couldn’t you possibly lose yourself in the process if things didn’t go well? What if that affects you here?” Maia had a million questions and even more concerns. “If he is like an archdemon, that makes things significantly more complicated. I wonder how much of this is my fault, for letting the Architect go.”
“Everything comes with a price. Unlocking Eluvians do not come without a price. The Well of Sorrows was the key to unlocking the Eluvian in the temple there.” Morrigan explained cooly. “Abelas said that whoever drank from the Well would be bound to the will of Mythal. I found little threat in that considering she was killed long ago, if she was even a god to begin with.” She looked at Maia. “None of what has happened with Corypheus is your fault. If anything, it is partially Hawke’s fault for letting him out of his prison to begin with. Were you aware that Corypheus was confined by the Wardens of a thousand years ago? And Corypheus is one of the magisters who entered the Golden City and, as legend says, turned it black and began the Blights. So far as I am aware, there is no connection between Corypheus and this Architect.”
Maia narrowed her eyes. The idea of Morrigan binding her will to anything was upsetting. No matter what she thought about it, decisions like that always had consequences. She resolved to see if there were ways to break a binding to a god. Any god. “I’d had no idea. Honestly the warden’s keep was devoid of much of the information I’d have liked, outside of the Joining ritual and a few other details. But of course they had him locked away.”
While Morrigan had been able to set the sentinel elves free from their bonds, it had been because she had drank from the Well that bound them. She supposed her bond to Mythal wouldn’t be broken until she died. “I am unsurprised. Apparently only the highest ranking Wardens even knew he existed. Of course the ancient magister aims for walking bodily into the Fade once more, the way he did a thousand years ago. However, I am relatively certain all that he will achieve is unleashing forces that will destroy the world if we do not defeat him. The Well had knowledge that we required.”
Again, Morrigan’s gaze went unfocused as she listened to the voices in her head. “And I possess just the thing that can allow him to be defeated. He has a dragon that was believed to be an Archdemon, but tis not so. Corypheus instilled a part of his power within the dragon, and thus allows him to jumped from Blighted creature to Blighted creature. Slay his dragon, and that ability will be interrupted and he will be able to be slain.” Rather easier said than done, but Morrigan held the final piece to the puzzle for what fighting the dragon would entail.
And she was certain beyond all doubt that Maia would be incredibly jealous of it.
The lack of focus that kept going into Morrigan’s eyes was unsettling. Maia chewed on her lip, letting her lover talk and trying to absorb everything. She felt like it would somehow be important. “Well. Dragon slaying is right up my alley, I hope you’ve found someone with that little bit of skill.”
“The Inquisitor, a female Trevelyan in my dreams, happens to be rather proficient at killing high dragons.” Morrigan felt she’d get used to the voices in her head as time went, so hopefully the whole unfocused gaze would eventually stop happening when she was listening. “Though according to the voices, the Inquisitor’s prowess in dragon slaying tis not the only weapon she shall have at her disposal to kill Corypheus’ dragon.”
“Sounds like a woman after my own heart.” Of course, Maia’s battle with a high dragon had been the Thedas equivalent of ‘lets do it for the vine’ at the time, but it was best not to speak of that part. “Chosen ones often have a little extra help.”
“I am certain the two of you could trade tips about it.” Morrigan said. She brushed a hand through her hair, a bit of a smirk crossing her face. “Indeed they do. Though it seems I shall be learning a new form to shift into in order to be said weapon.”
“Something you could teach me, perhaps?” Maia liked to think she’d pick up on those lesson quiet well, even if her teacher was, honestly, fairly distracting.
“Perhaps,” Morrigan said, her smirk widening a bit. “That is if you wish to turn into a dragon.” It was a form that would take some time to learn and master here. Morrigan had never shapeshifted into anything that large before, so there would be a learning curve, she expected.
Maia sat bolt upright. “Is that even a question, Morrigan?” A dragon? What mage in their right mind wouldn’t want to be a dragon?
Morrigan laughed. “I simply wished to ensure that. Once I master it, I will be able to teach it to you.”
She smiled, then slipped out of bed and held her hand out to Morrigan to help her out too. “At least this dream of yours seems sufficiently untraumatic.”
Taking Maia’s hand, she stood up. “Save for the voices in my head, t’was indeed sufficiently untraumatic.” She chuckled softly.