The following morning arrived bitterly cold. Overnight, a heavy snowfall had blanketed the land, something that surprised Elentari, as winter had already passed and spring was just beginning.
As on most mornings she spent inside the village of Haven, Elentari dressed in her mage robes and wrapped herself in the thick fur cloak Cullen had given her the first time she woke up in this place. Something told her it would be a very cold day atop the mountains. She considered all the tasks she could attend to now that she was here. A grimace crossed her face as she realized that the burden of responsibilities had grown so much, she was starting to forget small details. And that was something she wouldn't allow.
The previous night, she had sought Solas's guidance, and he had been clear and firm: she was immersed in something far greater than herself. It depended on the Inquisition. Elentari was merely the living story being told among the shemlen. Thus, she had to be wise and cautious. After all, her advisors were highly capable people, but humans had a rather... peculiar history when it came to the loyalties they extended to her people.
The Herald of Andraste's quarters were within the village's chantry, very near the war room. That morning, after leaving her room, she headed to the ambassador's office with a specific request: to have a small book-holder crafted for her travels.
It was a common practice among mages and witches to carry grimoires at their belts for quick access to complex spells in moments of need. However, this was not a grimoire, but rather a notebook to avoid forgetting the myriad names and duties Elentari demanded of herself. The surprise on Josephine's face did not go unnoticed, but the elf didn't mind. She was the Herald of Andraste, and from time to time, she would have requests they were expected to fulfill.
Upon leaving the ambassador's office, she encountered Mother Giselle waiting patiently. She couldn't avoid her presence, so they exchanged greetings and had a polite, cordial conversation. It brought comfort to the cleric to know that the Herald did not feel offended by their previous day's debate. Taking advantage of the moment, the cleric asked her to speak to the apothecary about some ointments needed for the growing number of refugees. She also let slip a subtle complaint about how slowly the apothecary responded to requests.
Elentari bid the old woman farewell and exited the chapel. The outside greeted her with freezing winds, but she kept walking down the icy steps.
- Healing ointments... - she murmured, her warm breath forming misty trails in the air.
I also need to speak to Threnn about the increased supply needs... and to Master Harritt about the new recruits' armor... and to Cullen to check if he needs anything else. Fenedhis! When did all of this become so complicated? Or when did it all start falling on me?
Her steps brought her before Seggrit, a young merchant.
- Seggrit! Good to see you - she said with a rushed smile. - Listen, we have new refugees arriving. Please, keep your prices reasonable. That would really help until more provisions arrive. Once we're able to supply them ourselves, I'll let you know. Then you can raise your prices... please...
She nearly clasped her hands in a pleading gesture but stopped halfway. The human man found her warmth amusing. This beautiful elf with exotic markings on her face had a small frame that inspired the urge to protect, and was polite and gracious to boot. Yet they said she was the Maker's chosen, which made her intimidating.
He smiled, defeated by such genuine kindness, while arranging his goods. - For you? Anything, Herald.
- Thank you.
Elentari turned and headed to find the apothecary. Without realizing it, she bumped into the Inquisition's commander, who had been discussing armor with Master Harritt.
- Oh, Cullen, I'm sorry. - she smiled, slightly embarrassed, though she quickly remembered she had been planning to speak with him anyway. - Actually, I'm glad I ran into you.
- Herald! Good morning. But what a face you wear today. - joked Master Harritt. Elentari smiled and waved, but turned her focus to the blond shem.
- Yes, tell me what you need, Herald. - Cullen offered.
- Do you know why so many refugees are arriving? I worry it's dangerous. I don't think we're equipped to protect this many people...
It was a legitimate concern, one Cullen shared.
- I believe Josephine mentioned a bann who's 'inviting' villagers to seek refuge with us. - Elentari grimaced. - I know, it's dangerous. We're not a pilgrimage order.
- Not at all! - Elentari complained, exhaling uncomfortably. - By Mythal! We're training soldiers here... It's dangerous to have so many defenseless people in one place. What are we going to do to protect them, Cullen?
- I'm working on it...
- Yes, by asking me to speed up weapon and armor production. - grumbled the smith, waving his arms. - But that takes time... and the commander knows that. By the Maker's breath! You both know that.
- You'll just have to hurry, Harritt... - the Herald pleaded. But her tone held the firmness of a born leader. Cullen noted the moment she gently placed a hand on the man's arm, making him feel just as essential to the Inquisition as she or Cullen were. Her implacable gaze softened by that kindness. The stubborn man seemed to yield under her persuasion.
- If she asks me, I'll do it... Sorry, Cullen. The lady has priority. - Cullen laughed, fully agreeing.
- Had I known bringing the Herald would get you to work faster, I'd have done it ages ago.
She laughed too, and the sound seemed to steal the moment entirely. Harritt chuckled beside her and looked eager to get to work.
- Thank you, Harritt. - the woman added. - I know I'm asking a lot, but the situation calls for it.
- I know, Herald. I'll get started immediately. If you find a lad who looks like he could be a blacksmith, send him my way. I'll teach him. That would help a lot.
- That's a great idea. - the commander agreed. - I'll keep an eye out among the new arrivals.
- Thanks, Commander.
Elentari took her leave, and Cullen decided to accompany her. She didn't mind. In fact, it would be useful to have him along to see how the Inquisition was functioning. She informed him that she was on her way to the apothecary's home, responding to a request from Mother Giselle.
While it was true Cullen knew little of the Dalish woman (and had no professional need to) something about her intrigued him.
Cullen wasn't the sort to enjoy comparisons, let alone prejudices, but it felt refreshing that the much lauded Herald of Andraste was a polite and gracious elven mage. The last woman he had followed into battle was Knight Commander Meredith, and while he wouldn't draw unfair comparisons, Elentari was a breath of fresh air.
As they walked, the elven mage turned to speak, and Cullen noticed her striking eyes. The vivid yellow hue rimmed in violet gave her an otherworldly appearance. It matched her pale skin, dark hair, and the vallaslin markings etched across her face. She was captivating.
- Cullen, do you think it would be foolish to ask Ferelden's kings to request support from their banns for protecting the refugees? - she asked as they neared the apothecary's home. - If a bann is sending us refugees, couldn't we ask for troops in return?
The Herald had a bold spirit.
Her proposal wasn't wrong, but it was unattainable. The Inquisition wasn't powerful enough. As far as he knew, they didn't even have legitimate rights to occupy the chantry in Haven. Still, her concern stemmed from a deep sense of injustice. Cullen understood.
- It's more complicated than that, Herald. Bannor troops exist to defend their arlings... and ultimately, their kings.
- Then let them send supplies, Cullen... let them support us!
- I'll speak with Josephine and see if anything can be done. I'm sure the kings will understand our position.
- And tell Leliana to handle that bann... Let her know she can't keep 'inviting' everyone here. I worry I won't be able to protect them. The Inquisition isn't that large... what if something goes wrong? We need soldiers, not refugees.
- I don't think we can control that, Herald.
- You can call me Elentari. - she corrected him. She was Elentari, not the Herald, not the tale they wanted to weave around her.
The commander nodded.
- Alright, Elentari. - the blond said. - Refugees will keep coming. We don't have the means to protect them right now, but I'll move as fast and effectively as I can. Don't worry... you have my full support.
- Me or the Inquisition? - the Dalish woman asked as they reached the snow covered stairs leading to the apothecary's house. She didn't climb, she waited.
Cullen allowed himself a moment to study her. That supposedly innocent question carried a trace of disdain. She didn't feel represented—perhaps not by the soldiers, or maybe not by him...
- You and the Inquisition, Hera... Elentari. - he corrected quickly. - And you can rest assured I won't let anything happen to Haven. I'll handle it. - He paused, then added. - And you're not wrong in your concerns. I'll bring this up with Leliana. Do you prefer a formal council meeting or should I tell them directly?
- Please, handle it yourself, Cullen. - she said, climbing the steps. He followed. Then, the Herald knocked a bit too firmly on the apothecary's door. She grimaced at herself.
Soon after, Adan greeted them, invited them inside to warm up, and she explained Mother Giselle's request. He complained of limited supplies, prompting Elentari to ask what he needed. Adan handed her a list of medicinal herbs. More work for her.
Now, she understood the cleric's earlier complaints.
And Cullen saw firsthand the Herald's genuine concern and how overwhelmed she seemed. She wanted to do everything but couldn't. Of course not. That's why they were there. Yet he noticed how alone she seemed as though she didn't feel supported by the council. Or perhaps, not by him.
As Commander, his role was critical. If she didn't feel protected by him, it made sense she felt burdened. He felt guilty for not trying to know her earlier. But lately, responsibilities felt endless.
After leaving Adan's, Cullen invited her to watch the new recruits train. He wanted her to see what they were accomplishing to give her a sense of reassurance. The challenges were constant, but he was committed, and they were making progress. He hoped she'd see that.
Elentari agreed, her eyes glinting with curiosity. He could've sworn she almost smiled.
They walked to the outskirts of Haven, and Cullen noticed her swift pace as though she was excited. But the templar in him reminded that no mage should take the lead, especially not with a warrior behind. He'd always preferred to be in front, shielding mages.
Then he reminded himself: they weren't fighting. She could walk ahead if she wished. When the time came, he'd protect her from any position.
When they arrived, Elentari immediately saw the labor of the recruits. Select groups of soldiers, divided and organized, training with determination. Their boots were worn, their grips tight as though these weapons were all they had left.
She realized these weren't just people doing the right thing. They had likely lost everything. This was their way to fight for the future. Her arms broke out in goosebumps.
What if one of them was the parent of the child she had left with Corporal Vale? What if they were farmers who had fled the mage-templar war? What if they had no home or fields left? What if fire and swords had stolen everything except their will to fight?
Elentari turned to Cullen and saw the way he watched them, arms crossed, eyes full of pride. She made a face. Could she trust Cullen's experience? She didn't know him well, but he seemed trustworthy. His heart appeared to lie with his soldiers and the innocent. He didn't seem cruel or given to violence. He seemed fair...
But who decided what was fair these days?
Still, seeing him admire those willing to lay down their lives for the Inquisition filled her with resolve. She knew she would follow him into battle, if he asked.
- Their armor is terrible... - she whispered. Cullen smiled at the unexpected (but accurate) comment.
- That's why I'm pushing the smith. - he replied. Elentari smiled, sighed, and returned her gaze to the soldiers. Their armor was indeed terrible. Like those worn by mercenaries or deserters. Desperation was everywhere. She wanted to give them more...
- The Inquisition must have better armor, Cullen. We must protect them... They're giving us their lives... that's more than we should ask...
- The quartermaster is working on it. It's a priority, Elentari. Just give me time. You'll have what you need.
- If I find a mineral-rich site during my travels, I'll let you know.
- Not me... the quartermaster.
She nodded and crossed her arms, watching the soldiers. He looked at her beside him, just slightly ahead. Despite the heavy cloak she wore, she was too small. It seemed unfair that she bore all this. Yet, what she lacked in size, she made up for in will. She had shown she was intelligent, sharp, and resolute. Best of all, her heart seemed to lie in the right place: with others.
- You know... - Cullen said. - I joined the Inquisition at Cassandra's request in Kirkwall, during the mage uprising...- Elentari turned toward him attentively. - She, Leliana, and I saw firsthand the devastation it caused. Divine Justinia had a contingency plan if it all went wrong...
- To restore the Inquisition... - she whispered. She had discussed this the night before with Leliana, Mother Giselle, and finally, Solas.
- Exactly. I truly believe the Inquisition can act where the Chantry cannot. Our followers can be part of that, Elentari. There's so much we can do... - His voice brimmed with hope. He believed in this cause.
- I didn't know restoring the Inquisition had already been considered during the Kirkwall crisis. - she challenged. Those events had happened years ago, four or five, perhaps. So Justinia had been planning this for a while? Why?
Cullen seemed surprised. He likely didn't expect her to be aware of such details. But an apostate had been teaching her to look where it mattered. And now she was beginning to understand that world.
- Actually, I believe the Inquisition was always a backup plan. The Divine hoped to broker peace between mages and templars before resorting to this.
- Still... she must not have had much faith in that if she was already plotting this 'contingency' with Cassandra and Leliana, right?
- Indeed.
- And... the Chantry's history shows otherwise, doesn't it? - Cullen looked uncomfortable. He stayed quiet for a while, then asked a question with an obvious answer:
- You... don't believe you're Andraste's herald, do you?
No.
Elentari paused. She didn't want to disrespect his faith.
- Well... you know I believe in my elven gods... - the commander nodded. - But my beliefs don't invalidate others. I can accept the existence of the Maker. But me? As Andraste's herald? I don't know... - Then she met his gaze. - Cullen, if I were... where's the message? Andraste hasn't told me anything.
- Perhaps... when you survived the explosion, it was under Her protection.
- Perhaps... we'll never know. But she doesn't speak to me. And a herald receives messages, right?
Cullen gave a weak laugh. It was logical.
- Still... I understand why people need to believe I'm the Herald of Andraste. To believe in the story the Inquisition is shaping...
Then Cullen looked her square in the eye:
- The Inquisition does not impose false ideas upon its followers.
- No, but you do nothing to silence them.
- How could we? We can't be everywhere someone proclaims you.
- You could simply say I'm not Andraste's herald.
- You yourself just said we can't know whether your survival wasn't a divine act. As long as we can't be sure... we're not in a position to deny it.
Touché. He'd found a loophole. And a convenient one for manipulating the masses through an intersubjective reality.
Elentari smiled at him.
He needed to believe. And, from what she could tell... he believed in her. And in the Inquisition. Now, all that remained was to spread the idea that she was the Herald of Andraste, and so construct the narrative needed to harness the power of faith...
She... was that narrative.
Upon her rested the 'grace' of being chosen by the Maker to transmit Andraste's messages.
Now, they only needed to make everyone believe...
Her stomach twisted as all she had debated the previous day settled in her understanding.