Chapter Text
The stench of too many bodies crammed into too little space hit Ariavis Mercar with the force of a battering ram as she descended into the belly of the slaver ship. The words of the Shadow Dragon she'd passed on the way down suddenly made sense.
Breathe through the mouth, he'd said.
Another Shadow Dragon, an elf with tawny skin and long dark hair braided away from a narrow face, met her at the entrance. "Mercar?"
"Just Ari, please."
They nodded. "As you say. I'm Paz. The people inside are in a bad way. I'm told you're a fair hand at healing?"
"Not as good as I am at setting things on fire, but good enough to get by."
They gave her a wry smile. "Come then. And... brace yourself."
Remembering the accuracy of the earlier advice, she tried to prepare herself as she followed Paz down the final set of stairs into the ship's hold. As the daughter of a military commander, she was no stranger to the hearing about the horrors of the world, but as she got her first glimpse into the windowless lower deck, she learned that knowing something and experiencing it were two different things.
In the otherwise darkened hold, lamps dimmed by smoke residue threw circles of light over tightly packed rows of emaciated people chained to the floor by their ankles and wrists and surrounded by congealing pools of blood, sea water, and excrement. Despite the clear signs of pain etched on their faces, none of them cried out or groaned. Only occasional murmuring could be heard between rattles of rusted chain as Shadow Dragons worked quickly and quietly to free and triage the prisoners. The green glow of healing magic flickered in her peripheral vision, and Ari turned to see another mage—a spirit healer by the looks of her aura—working on a few of the more poorly looking folk.
Paz waved Ari forward, and she refocused on her job. This was why she was here, after all—to free those who had been abducted and mistreated by the powerful and the greedy.
Ari's first patient was barely conscious. Blood trickled from a wound on her temple, though the state of her clothes indicated the injury had bled profusely when it happened. Paz knelt down and took the elven woman's hand.
"Friend, I have a mage here who can help ease your pain. Will you allow it?"
The woman blinked slowly, her wary gaze sliding back and forth between them. Ari followed Paz's lead, kneeling down and doing her best to look nonthreatening.
It must have worked because the woman finally gave her a slow nod. Ari lifted her hands, palms facing up, and let the healing magic gather. The woman looked on with suspicion, but she didn't move away when Ari slowly turned her hands outward to glide a few inches over the woman's head.
The brain was bruised from the force of whatever impact had caused the injury, so she started there, mending tissue and easing the body's natural reactions to the damage. When that was mostly healed, she moved on, checking for other areas. Old injuries leapt out at her—evidence of the woman's mistreatment at the hands of a slaver, no doubt—but Ari had been warned by her contact not to venture into unnecessary magic. Too many people needed her help to waste mana and energy on old wounds.
It made sense. If this woman's rather severe injuries had been put in Ari's secondary triage group, she hated to think of what the spirit healer was dealing with.
So she let the magic fade and smiled at the woman. "You've got some non life threatening injuries that a mage could tend to if you come across a healer later. I would but—"
"No, I know," the woman interrupted, her voice thin and reedy even as she touched the half-healed abrasion on her temple. "You've got more important uses for that magic right now. But... thank you all the same."
Ari's smile widened, and she bowed her head to the woman. "You're very welcome. I wish you safety and peace in your future life."
When she raised her head, the woman bowed her head in return, a tentative smile blooming on her face. Paz rested a hand on each of their shoulders before looking at Ari and nodding his head toward the next person in line. She gave the woman one last smile and moved on.
Ari's grandmother would have a conniption if she could see her now. Not her biological grandmother, of course. No one knew who that was. But her adoptive mother's mother had been there the day seven-year-old Ari set all the candles in the house aflame with nothing but a giggle and a wave of her hand. Ari was sent off to the Minrathous Circle, and thus began her grandmother's delusions of a granddaughter in the magisterium—never mind that Ari would need to work her way up to senior enchanter to even be considered, and even then, only one mage per Circle was chosen for the lifetime appointment.
She had about as much chance of being appointed to the magisterium as she did of becoming the Divine. Which is to say, none.
But as she moved through the room, her mana waning even with the lyrium potions Paz occasionally provided, the burgeoning sense of accomplishment was unlike anything she'd ever felt. Here, she was making a difference in a real and tangible way, even if her best talents had yet to be utilized for the cause.
First missions were for learning the ropes, her contact had said. If an agent completed their first mission and was formally accepted into the group, the training for the second mission was for determining the best uses of a Shadow Dragon's talents.
And even though she was excited for a possible second mission, she found she didn't mind this introduction to the Shadow Dragons. It was good to know for sure that she was joining a group of people like her who cared about justice and empathy.
While Ari finished mending a broken leg, Paz moved forward to talk to the final patient in her row. The young qunari man under her hands didn't speak much, but the small smile she earned from him when she finished added to the pride welling in her chest.
She stood... and swayed on her feet.
Blackness encroached at the edges of her vision.
She stumbled—
Thick arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back into a hard surface, providing steady support as she attempted to blink away the darkness. Paz was halfway between crouching and standing, hand thrown out toward her, eyes wide and fixed... on whoever was behind her.
A deep voice came from the person holding her, the low tone vibrating through the hard surface—a cuirass, she guessed—and into her back. An involuntary shudder raced down her spine.
"I don't think I've seen you before. Is this your first time with the Shadow Dragons?"
A sudden wave of exhaustion tried to drag her down, but the man held her tightly even as she struggled to keep her feet planted on the floor. She tried to speak, but her vocal chords failed her. After clearing her throat, she finally managed a quiet, "Yes."
"You've done well, but be sure not to overtax yourself. You should always be ready to defend as well as heal."
A sliver of shame wound through all those towers of pride. She forced a reply out of her tight throat.
"I would rather save as many as lives possible at my own expense than know I left someone behind to save myself."
A soft hum vibrated through her. She couldn't tell whether it was hum of consideration... or skepticism. The arms around her tightened so briefly, she wondered if she imagined it.
"A noble sentiment, if flawed," he said in a low tone before raising his voice slightly. "Paz, please take..."
It took her foggy mind a moment to understand the pause. Her cheeks flamed with heat as she finally murmured, "You can call me Ari."
"Take Ari outside for some air. I'll finish up here."
Paz didn't respond, though they did bob their head in an eager nod as they rushed to her side. She focused on keeping her balance when those arms withdrew and that armored chest no longer supported her back. Paz wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her arm over their shoulders.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of Shadow Dragon teal sweep by them, the man who'd rescued her from falling flat on her face walking with the lightness and grace of an assassin despite his impressive size. And as he knelt before the final injured patient, his hands already glowing green with a rush of healing magic, she couldn't help the little hum of interest that slipped past her guard.
He glanced her way, revealing blisteringly blue eyes. The rest of his face was covered by a veil, the lamplight glinting off the metal accents of the well-made armor, but she barely noticed. Those eyes held her in place, the soft quirk of a brow sending a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks, though she didn't know why.
Then the gaze was gone, the man—some kind of noble, she guessed—focusing on his work. Her heart thundered in her chest as Paz pulled her across the room, up the stairs and out into the sunlight.
"You know who that was, right?" they asked in a low tone as they helped her sit down on a wooden crate.
"Hmmm?" Ari blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. A breath or two of fresh air helped clear away the fog of exhaustion, and she caught up with Paz's question. "Oh, the man who caught me? From the fancy armor, I assume someone important. Probably one of the former Lucerni magisters moonlighting as a Shadow Dragon?"
"He's the Viper."
Ari blinked again, this time in surprise. "The leader of the Shadow Dragons?"
"Yeah. He usually keeps out of sight, but sometimes he'll lend a hand when we're outnumbered or, like today, have a lot more injured than we expected."
Ari nodded, at bit stunned. Everyone knew about the Viper. As was appropriate for the organization's name, he led from the shadows, delegating work and only appearing when needed. He was something of a legend throughout Minrathous, and many of the other mages in the Circle had doubted he actually existed.
And now he knew her name.
As Paz helped her up and led her to the next stage of the rescue—getting the slaves out of Tevinter and on to a better life, she vowed work harder.
To do better.
To be better.
And maybe, if she got really lucky, she'd get to see those blazing blue eyes again someday.