Nyssa gave Aislin a smile, though a sad one. “Well, let’s see what happens,” she said, glancing at her hand as it glowed green. “Me, I’m thinking if I do close it, it might kill me…. and if I don’t close it, who knows?” She glanced toward Cassandra again. “We both know that when Seekers show up, bad things happen. Whether because of them or despite them.”
“Aw, cheer up, kid. You could save the world and be home by noon.” Varric grinned at her, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.
“Varric,” she said quietly, “Mages fought the Blights right from the beginning – and life on Thedas without us would be very different. No magical healing, no glyphs and wards, a good deal less research and scholarship than we have today, no fireballs or walls of ice in wars…. but for all the good we do, we’re still seen as sinful, evil, emotionally stunted and malicious children who need to be locked up.” She shook her head. “Hunted, hated, kidnapped from our parents, imprisoned for life – and that doesn’t even take into the account the abuses some have suffered at the hands of their captors.” She shook her head. “I never wanted any of this. I’d have been happy to live out my life in the Circle unmolested, but this…. the only surprise is that the rebellion didn’t happen sooner.”
She glanced at Cassandra. “It wasn’t due to the righteous vigilance of the Templars that things remained peaceful as long as it did. It was due to mages convincing ourselves and our more agitated brethren that there had to be a better way, that reason, and logic, example, faith, repentance – all these would be enough. But no. All the persuasion in the world did nothing.”
Nyssa huffed, and shook out her hands, taking a tighter grip on her staff. “We’re not people, you know,” she said to Varric, unable to look him in the eye anymore. “We’re commodities. We make a lot of coin for the Chantry, and let her wield a lot of power over the nations of Thedas. And even those of us considered too dangerous to keep our magic makes coin for the Chantry – her Tranquil are a huge force of unpaid skilled labor – from cooks and laundry workers, servants and maids, researchers and archivists to the Fomari, enchanting weapons and amulets, armor and stupid trinkets for rich children.”
Nyssa looked up grimly at the breach. “Come on. It’s not getting any smaller.”
Aislin had always known on an intellectual level that Rivain did things differently from the rest of Thedas. The strange and envious looks she got from other mages during her tour of magical education were quick to teach her that. Her unexpected imprisonment in Kirkwall was yet more proof, but once she escaped and returned home, she’d thought her life would be back to normal again. Then, Dairsmuid. She now understood that nothing would ever be quite the same again.
Still, as Nyssa went on at length about the status and treatment of mages, Aislin found herself struck with the growing realization of just how little she still understood. She’d been born into a world that had immediately accepted her as a person, and not just that, but a person of considerable importance. Even becoming a mage had not changed that in the slightest. The more she listened, the more she realized she would never really get what Nyssa and the other mages of Thedas had suffered.
She had wanted to come to the Conclave to protest the Annulment of the Circle of Dairsmuid, but now... listening to Nyssa, she understood how much bigger the issue was. It wasn’t just one Circle; it was all of them. And now, with the mages in open rebellion, the crisis was that much more serious. Aislin drew in a deep, steady breath, and fell into step beside her cousin.
“How does it feel?” she asked quietly as they walked. “When you raise your hand to a rift, to close it?”
