A raven caws as the Spymaster sets her free, on her way to deliver a message to the forward camp. She descends the long staircase, slipping into the main hall of Skyhold and pausing near Varric. @varrichousetethras.bsky.social

Let the blade pass through the flesh, Let my blood touch the ground, Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice.

“What has Josie gotten herself into now?” Smiles. “She’s always looking for the ‘proper’ was to do things.”

The Imperium slept. In the lofty palaces Mages dreamed of the Maker's Palace, golden and shining, And though they knew not why, the dream turned their blood to ice. Soldiers stood their watches, and servants hurried on errands, Unaware of what the dawn would bring.

The righteous stood before the armies As a boulder stands before a tide: Unshaken, rooted there by the Maker's Hand. And the demon's soldiers broke upon their shields As a wave breaks upon the shore.

“Ah. So I see.”

The Skyhold gardens were cold and windy. But resting behind one of alcoves stood Andratse. Her likeness captured in stone. She watched over the gardens. Leliana knelt before her. Lowered her head in prayer.

The steely facade of the Spymaster faded. She rose and closed the gap between them. Her gloved hand gripped the Seeker’s shoulder. “Cassandra, you began the Inquisition the honor her. To bring justice to those responsible for her death. You are the strongest of us all. Has something happened?”

“Cassandra, I have not seen you so heated since your last spat with Varric.” Despite her words, no jest was intended. “The Maker shall not ask of us more than we are able to give. I know your faith will not shatter.”

“There's power in stories, though. That's all history is: The best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine.” ~ Varric Tethras

“It will be spring soon. Schmooples II will be excited to once again nibble on fresh clover and dandelions.”

“I suppose it makes sense to the clerics to seek the next Divine from either the left or right hand. That does not mean we must appreciate the haste at which they seek to replace her most holy.” Of course, that look of forlorn was not lost on the Spymaster. “You do not wish to rise to Divine?”

"Corypheus. With a name like that, he'll go 'mwa-ha-ha' at some point. I just know it." ~ Shane Hawke

“I am, though I’ve not put much thought into the matter. Justinia was -“ She sighs. Head lowered, hiding her eyes under her hood. “It is difficult to believe, even now, she is not with us. But if they were to elect me, I would serve. It’s the least she deserved.”

Rolling up a small parchment. Inside a coded message awaits. Leliana carefully ties the note to her raven and sends it on its way.

“And stability. It was what she wanted as well. I also struggle with my failings and my duty. But I shall not falter. What we began shall be finished.”

“What is Josie up to?” Giggles.

“No, I believe we are past that. We need all the allies we can afford, Cassandra. This you know.”

“It has to do with our prior investigations, yes.”

“I will be sure to alert Cullen. Should…backup be required.”

“So much drama brewing in Skyhold tonight. It makes me nostalgic for The Game.”

“It is not me you need to worry about fleeing from.”

Weighs her answer carefully. After silence passes between them, she softly admits, “I do not think you will be pleased…”

“It would seem we have a new ally visiting Skyhold to assist with out efforts against Corypheus.”

“Maker. Were your ears burning, Cassandra?”

“At Shartan's word, the sky Grew black with arrows. At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords Rang from their sheaths, A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming Those who had been slaves were now free.”

“Nice?” She laughs. “I have not been called nice in some time. Thank you. I can see why that young man blushes around you.”

“Serah Hawke. You have come a long way from Kirkwall. I would advise to remain in the shadows until Cassandra knows of your presence.” @shanehawke.bsky.social

Smiles. “Your gift is a link, and I know it has been cheer to those at Skyhold. Such tales. As Varric says, stories are powerful. Soothing. Or sad. Like that one song there.” She recognized the old ballad.

“I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost.”

“Maker, you are a beautiful woman.”

“If Varric brought with him who I think he has, Cassandra will surely throw a fit of anger.”

Those who had been cast down, The demons who would be gods, Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth. And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars To the pretender-gods once more, And in return were given, in hushed whispers, The secrets of darkest magic.

"Not everyone can be a killer. It requires a certain cold disconnect. I have heard high praises for your music from the Inquisitor herself."

Smiles. "Yes, Josie and I go way back. She always had exceptional taste, even if she would like to think otherwise."

"As to be inspected, Inquisitor, The Court does not know what to make of you. An elf as the Herald of Andraste? Of course, even in Orlais, they know the importance of keeping up appearances. That is no issue to them." >

Laughs. "Just like Josie, to think a bit of honey is an indulgent while she wears the finest spun golden silks I have seen outside of the Chantry!"

"Of course. Right this way." She waves her over and walks with the Inquisitor, out of the cacophony of the rookery and down the stairs, through the rotunda and out to the walkway. Her voice lowers to a whisper. "Word of the Inquisition has of course reached Empress Celine. And whispers of you."

She studies her, eyeing her potential, perhaps? "Désolée, it was not always that way. Many bards were only spies, the eyes and ears for those who line their pockets well. Of course, every society has assassins. There were slots to fill, and thus, the Game expanded."

Her lips curl. A smile? Maybe a smirk. “Rumors, my Lady Inquisitor, are quite another matter. My spies tell me of great chatter of you in Halamshiral. Have you a moment to discuss it?”

She smiles. “We all begin somewhere, non? Yet I understand. The life of a bard is not easy, and not for everyone. Though I was a spy, my passion for music and song was quite genuine.”

ᅠᅠᅠ

“Quite right. I find it all a bit charming, but I will keep the secrets of those who may or may not be involved in such salacious activities. After, this is the Inquisition, not The Great Game.”

Sits in the corner sipping a sweet wine of orange and lavender. "How lovely, Maryden. Sometimes I still think of my old days as a bard."

Discreetly pens a correspondence inquiring on the status of Schmooples II.

Eyes Cassandra but says nothing. A sly smile curls from her lips. "You are right, Inquisitor, it is suspicious. There are some secrets that should remain so, no? The truth can be rather unpleasant." @fen-ara.bsky.social

"Smutty literature? How scandalous!"

Keeping an eye on everyone from up in to rookery.

Scanning the note. Smiles at the chocolates. “How wonderful.”

“A little startle, but they are being tended to, yes. I apologize, Cole. I seem to forget our last conversation.” That trick of his with others forgetting him. “You perform these little gifts. They are appreciated. Is anyone looking out for you?”