fadewalk | RP: Daylen

Neria considered herself a well-versed person regarding magic and other things that interested her in personal level, so she was very impressed with the rare books she found in the underground library, place where everything had started for her. She had used some quick, simple spells to clean a bit of the dust covering the entire place and brought along a teapot with fresh made tea to help her through her studies. Things were calm again in Skyhold and meeting Alistair after a long time separated had refreshed her energy and mind, providing the perfect occasion to deepen some parts of her research about the Cure.

She was sitting with her back turned to the door, several books and parchments in front of her, quill on her right hand making notes while the index finger of the left hand travelled from line to line, word to word, aiding her eyes to highlight important things. The woman was barefeet, boots dropped on the floor, feet caressing Jäger's belly, the powerful and mighty mabari lying under the table, snoring like there was no tomorrow.

Current Mood: nerdy

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Daylen had been roaming. Dressed in simple clothing, too big on his frame that had been scavenged from somewhere, and a pair of boots that weren't his originally, with his staff on his back, he'd been pacing up and down the halls of Skyhold.

Trying to figure out the layout? Look for any clues as to why he was there? Or just get out of his own idiot head long enough to stop feeling guilty for leaving Alistair - the bloody king of Ferelden - alone?

He'd like to say it was the first one, or the second, but really it was mostly all his head and his guilt and Alistair.

He wound down through the cellars, poking his head into dusty closets and empty rooms, but the soft light through the doorway at the end of his hall drew his curiosity. He padded to it, and peered in, pursing his lips at the elven woman and the mabari that looked painfully familiar. He almost turned right around at that point, because shit, were there different versions of his dog?

He cleared his throat. "Um, hello?"

Her elf ears twitched slightly at the visitor's voice, and she turned to see who was there; a man, not someone she had ever seen before. Just like her, dressed with clothing that didn't quite fit him (she had kept her trousers, but couldn't resist stealing the shirt carrying Alistair's scent, the piece looking like some sort of long smock).

Neria smiled politely, a soft and calm voice when she spoke "Oh, hi."
She stopped the soothing motion on Jäger's belly and the mabari woke up. Before she could speak anything, he charged against the man, whining and barking playfully, hopping around him. Standing up quickly and running after the dog, her small, light frame held the mabari and his apparent joy almost comically.

"Behave yourself, Jäger!" then, she glanced at Daylen "Sorry, he usually has better manners."

The mabari's greeting stole most of Daylen's attention, managing a small crooked smile as he crouched down to meet him. "Well, hello boy. Long time, hmm?" The dog was the spitting image of Elric, if his hound had lived long enough to get grizzled and lazy. He felt tears sting his eyes briefly. Weird, what this place was bringing back to him.

He shook his head, and looked up as Neria tugged the dog back, though he stayed crouched for a moment. "You must be Warden Commander Surana. I saw your name in the book." He wet his lips and straightened slowly. "Honored to meet the Hero of Ferelden." He extended his hand to shake hers.

"Sweet Creator's mercy, please..." she shook his hand, her smile turning slightly embarassed as she chuckled "Neria will do just fine. Warden Commander Surana reminds me of Varel and Mistress Woosley whenever I did something passive of reprisal in the keep. Which, well, happened quite frequently."

Neria shrugged, a small grin on her lips at the memories of Varel and Mistress Woosley chocked with her methods when she just assumed the position in Amaranthine.

"You must be the other Hero... Warden Amell, I take it?"

Daylen's hand had a subtle frisson of energy about it, as if his magic is unsettled. He shook her hand with a firm, gentle grip, and then released to reach down and pet Jäger's ears, an idle scratch. As he chuckled. "I don't think they called me anything other than Warden Commander Amell, while I was there. I must've done a terrible job." He hadn't, doing his duty with a grim, almost brutal determination, but that didn't mean he was well-liked.

"And please, just Daylen. I don't feel like I was the hero of much by the time I went to my Calling." He glanced around the room, blue eyes holding a gleam of curiosity, a little apprehension as well. "Are you looking for the answer to all this weirdness in these old books?"

She motioned towards the table, pouring tea for her and a new cup for him. Neria's own energy felt warm and soothing, just as her manners, voice, speech and gestures, just like embers.

"Well, right now I am more concerned about finishing a research I've been doing for the past years." she bit the inside of her cheek before going on "Since... Morrigan's ritual to spare Alistair's life and mine as well, we realized there was much more to the order and to the Taint than we were told. I'm close to finish my cure for the Calling." she smiled, green eyes showing all her passion and dedication to the topic "I know, I should probably be looking for a way out of here, but Inquisitor Lavellan is looking into it with Dagna and I trust they would call me if they needed anything. Though it doesn't mean I'm not utterly curious about this place and the magic behind it. You see, there was this fellow mage in the Tower, Amell just like you. But he didn't look or carry himself like you, at all. Very intriguing, this whole parallel realities mess."

Edited Date: 2015-08-25 03:02 am (UTC)

The topic of Morrigan's ritual makes Daylen's face grow a little wooden, but he nodded as she spoke, jaw flexing slightly. "So, no more dying young and covered in horrible black veins. Interesting."

The mention of another Amell made him blink. "Really? There wasn't... well, actually now that I think about it. An Alim Surana that didn't pass his Harrowing. A year or so older than me." He frowned thoughtfully, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Does anyone have any theories about why there's so much discrepancy with some people from different worlds?" He wagged a finger between himself and her. "But others are so closely similar?" He didn't mention Alistair, but he was thinking of him.

"I didn't gave much thought to it, but I'm very sure this has something related to entropy and names."

She grabbed her cup of tea and handed the other to Daylen, sitting on the floor near to Jäger, petting the mabari with her free hand.

"See, the Ancient Elves always had this belief on how names carry power and are able to change the course of history and life. My parents named me Neria and I passed my Harrowing, survived the Blight and here I am. Your fellow Alim didn't have the same luck. Different names leads to different Fates and the entropy just does the rest of the job. Different names, different fates."

She took a sip of her tea, catching her breath.

"And we all have the same Wild Card in all our stories: Flemeth. It seems to me that, if we remove Flemeth from the equation, nothing will ever be the same again. She's keeping most of the entropy chaos away and re-directing things when she needs to, so things happen in the way she envisioned."

Daylen wasn't much of a theoretician. Practical battle magic was more his thing. He listened, squinting slightly as she explained the theory of names and entropy and then she spoke of Flemeth. He grunted softly.

"Flemeth, hadn't thought about her in a while. So you're saying that she's what, writing our stories? There's always an Alistair, or a Morrigan, or a Zevran, and then she makes-do with what she has if it's a Neria or a Daylen or... Huh, I don't think I know Cousland's first name, but him, whoever that arse is?" He wrinkled his nose and rubbed his fingers along the bridge. "Well that's headache causing. And isn't Flemeth dead anyway? Or did you not kill her for her grimoire like Morrigan asked?"

"I'm pretty sure I did, but looking back into history, there was always mention to an mysterious woman aiding someone to get something that changed history somehow. The Joining was taught to the Grey Wardens by a woman, Calenhad was aided by a woman, Flemeth saved my life, Flemeth saved Hawke's life during the Blight - if what is written on the Tale of the Champion is to be taken seriously - and several clan Keepers have tales about a Asha'bellanar, the Woman of Many Years, which Flemeth certainly was. I am not usually one given to conspiracy theories but..."

"Ah. Well, I might have thought that was just crazy talk but then I wandered out of the Deep Roads and into the Fade to find several doubles of my dead lover wandering around and a Hero of Ferelden who is not me, so what do I know anymore?" Daylen shrugged his lean shoulders with a faint smirk.

He hesitated for a moment and then asked, "Can... can I ask, in your world do you... is Alistair your Voice?"

She tilted her head, curiousity visible on her eyes.

"I'm sorry... my what?"

"Ah. Nevermind. It isn't important." Daylen shrugged and shook his head. "Have you met the other versions of him? The king, or... the uh... what do you call him? The drunk one?"

"Well, if you're asking if I love Alistair..." she begun, quickly, but then halted, shaking her head, rolling her eyes and facing her cup of tea "Oh please Neria, don't be silly, of course he is not asking if you love him." she chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment "Alistair is who grounds me to this world. I love him and trust every single bit of my being to him and... well, I am not as placid as I try to be, hence fire magic as my mastery..." she hesitated, glancing back to her tea "More than once I thought I was just about to... give in and... lose myself... and it feels like I could listen to him reaching out to me, helping me to remain who I am."

She sighed at the mention of the other Alistair's.

"I only met, in person, the Exiled version of him. One of the first persons I saw here, very confusing and embarrassing, if you ask me."

Daylen listened solemnly, head cocked to the side as she described Alistair's influence. He looked down at least once, hiding a sad twinge in his mouth.

"Yeah, I can imagine that would be awkward. I tried to set the, uh, the king on fire." He chuckled softly. "Thought he was a demon. Turns out he's really not."

Neria chucked, hiding her face on her hands after, a pink tone rising to her ears.

"Creators, his face when Sigrun blurted out I was married to my reality's Alistair, ughh..." she sighed "Not something I will ever forget."

"How'd he wind up exiled?" Daylen moved closer to the table, finally taking the tea that Neria had poured for him. He rested his hip against the edge and sipped it. He was tired and the warm liquid was pleasant. "I guess, that's sort of a rude question, but some habits of the Circle die harder than others. Gossip, pretty much the hardest."

She glanced at him with a smirk, chuckling, before speaking.

"Something about Loghain not being killed during the Landsmeet, his Cousland not vouching for him and accepting the traitor as a Grey Warden." Neria sighed "I guess there are bad Heroes of Ferelden too."

"Hm. Some of us apparently do worse than others." As far as things go, Daylen would prefer to an angry living Alistair to what he'd let happen. He rubbed his face with a ragged sigh and then shook his head. "Thanks for that information. Things are... complicated for me right now and I don't want to be bumbling into him or your husband without knowing a little about them. I already screwed things up enough with the one who got pushed onto the throne."

"I see. My husband is... well, my husband. We went through a lot after the Blight and Amaranthine, and now the Adamant incident..." she shrugged "But we always had each other and managed to stand together."

She quirked her eyebrow, curious at his words about the king Alistair.

"I don't know what you have been through, but I'm all ears, if you want to vent." then she frowned "Sorry for the non-intended pun."

"Ah. Well, it's... hard." Daylen took another sip of tea. "Not to forgive you for the pun, that's easy enough." He gave a shake of his head. "I loved Alistair. He died because of mistakes I made, and now... well, like I said, it's hard."

He tapped his finger against his teacup and then added, "You know where I'm from, soulmates are an actual, literal thing."

"Is it? That is... well... amazing."

Her eyes widened at his speech.

"Yep. Amazing. Wonderful. Horrible, painful and gutting sometimes too." Daylen shrugged. "So, that's why things are complicated. I lost mine, Alistair, and now I'm having all these feelings about his majesty." He grimaced, knowing Alistair would hate being called that, but not sure how else to differentiate.

"Which is why I asked if you had thoughts about copies or versions and the difference between your husband and the other one. I certainly don't want to step into any more shit."

He stretched his neck and then looked over at the books she had been using. "So you said you were close? With curing the taint?"

She couldn't help but giggle.
"Rest assured my husband's scars will probably speak for themselves.

Then she glanced at her own research.
"Close, yes. I'm figuring out some alchemical uses for High Dragon's blood, but I'm having a hard time finding a way to keep it from driving the user insane."

Daylen chuckled weakly. If he was close enough to see Neria's husband's scars, he'd already be in trouble.

The mention of dragon blood made his eyes widen. "Well, that's promising? Is it likely to work? How insane are we talking here? On a scale of Isolde to Uldred?"

"on a scale of Isolde to Uldred, I find really hard to tell which on is the craziest. Can we stick with more insane than Branka?"

She led out a sigh.

"Something feels off, though. This might be a solution, but I highly doubt is the only one. And then, rumors about Lyrium being alive and Red Lyrium being nothing but tainted Lyrium makes me wonder what truly is the Taint... I don't know if I can move forward with the research without it."

"I don't know if researching red lyrium sounds like such a great idea? I mean, from what I heard about Kirkwall, it makes people go crazy and then explode. Which seems less than helpful. But I'm not a researcher. What do I know?" He chuckled and gestured toward the books. "I wish I could be more helpful, but it wasn't my quest."

"I heard something very curious once: Red Lyrium is Lyrium corrupted by magic. This, of course, before hearing that Red Lyrium is actually Tainted by the Darkspawn. But it makes me wonder that the Taint might be a magical disease, therefore, the right purifying spell could do thr trick."

Neria shook her head, standing to pour more tea.

"I know, I know, purifying spells are probably the first thing someone ever tried but... perhaps we need to find out the exact opposite for it to work." the woman scratched her forehead "Sorry, I'm just rambling. Happens when I don't know where to look."

Daylen nodded slowly, trying to follow her jumps. She knew far more about red lyrium than he did, apparently. "It sounds like you're much farther ahead on this than anyone I've ever heard mention it before."

He stood, setting aside the teacup, stomach growling softly. "I think I should continue my quest for the food I heard was being so very carefully rationed. But it was nice to meet you. And if I can help with this--" he nodded to her notes. "--let me know. I'd make a wonderful test subject I bet."

(OOC: gotta wander off to bed. We should try to do another scene with the two heroes and their Alistairs sometime soon. :D)

"Certainly!"
She smiled, full heartedly and warm.

"I won't be far from here, I suppose, but whenever you feel like talking or gossiping, count me in."

(ooc: Yes! We should totally talk to them and think of something! Maybe when Daylen is settled with his majesty, so things can be slightly more awkward xD)