Aylen remained there even after Martine left to return to her estate. And when she was gone she cried long but quietly, letting her tears fall from her eyes onto the balustrade. Fortunately no one interrupted her there: she stayed alone, overlooking the city through tears that made it blurry. She didn’t know for how long she stayed, but she needed to think. Eventually the tears stopped: her eyes, red and swollen, would no longer let her shed them. Yet her lips still quivered, and her body shook. She needed time to think. Time alone, for once.
Martine was right about the Inquisition to a certain point, as much as Aylen’s stubborn nature didn’t like admitting that. The organization had been founded by people who would have the powers from before restored. Corypheus had to be stopped, that was for certain. The Inquisition had the forces and resources for that, with their Inquisitor and the mark, and there where changes already in the making, but... Would those changes last? Would she indeed play a part in them in a way that she would see herself fulfilled and content with it? What other changes did they intend to make to make the world better after their most immediate goal was achieved?
Did I protect? Yes, so far she had done that with the Inquisition: one step at a time, but she could. Are there other paths that give me that chance to protect? Yes, and so many. The Inquisition had only been the first chance given to her when she was lost, and she’d taken it right away.
How many things do they hide from me and everyone else? Many. But so did Martine.
Would she be able to help Martine while still with the Inquisition? No. She’d made that clear. But could she help the Inquisition’s goal to defeat Corypheus while staying with Martine? Yes.
She’d always called protection her purpose... But a purpose wasn’t always the same as what she wanted. No, protection was a promise.
Alright. A promise. And what do I promise to protect? Those she cared about. Those she loved.
She didn’t love the Chantry. They had marched against her people, slaughtered them in the name of their Maker and driven them from their home. It was because of the Chantry that so many had suffered, and so many still suffered. She didn’t love the governments: all of them did as much bad as they could do good. Those who held the power stood above those who needed help, and often didn’t listen to them. She didn’t love their games of power and influence and gold they had played for ages and still played to that day.
She loved her family, even if she had left them and didn’t think she could return. She loved the friends she’d made. She loved freedom, respect. She loved...
Martine was right in that change wouldn’t come from those who didn’t want it. And she wanted change. The Inquisition was setting one thing right: sealing the Breach in the sky and the rifts and stopping Corypheus. It was a work in progress, but it was making progress. But to what point would that progress last?
What of her, when the Inquisition achieved that objective and then its purpose changed? What of her when she didn’t agree and it no longer offered her the opportunity to protect? Her loyalty remained with its purpose to defeat the magister that would bring chaos and destruction to the world. And what would happen, when they no longer held that loyalty? She’d leave them, of course. She didn’t know where, or what she would do, but if- when it happened she’d leave. If she couldn’t do what she thought was right, what was the point?
And what about when she didn’t agree with what Martine did? She was well aware the woman would do anything to see to it that the change she pretended to make happened. Her methods could be cold, even cruel. Aylen didn’t always agree with her. She didn’t think the end justified the means all the time. As much good as she meant, cruel acts were still cruel even if they lead to something that was meant to be right. Aylen herself thought there were other ways, better ways.
Martine wasn’t always right; neither was the Inquisition. But this wasn’t about them as much as it was about her, was it...
That was the question, one she couldn’t quite answer yet. Come to think of it, it wasn’t exactly a question she asked herself often. Not in this way. What did she want? ‘Judge in the moment, not over time. Right here. Right now,’ that was what Martine had told her. What did she want, right now?
Her gaze fell on the purse with coin Martine had left there. She could take it, go back to the Inquisition. Never see Martine again, or see her and fall to her knives in the end.
She could turn on her heel and go back to Martine’s estate, knock on her door and stay.
Or she could do neither. Find another choice, another path.
Aylen closed her eyes, eyelids heavy from having cried for so long. How long had she been standing there? Never mind, she didn’t care how long. She took deep breaths, in and out, feeling the beat of her heart in her chest, which had slowly calmed down.
When she opened her eyes, she reached her hand towards the small purse and took it, but she didn’t head for the thaig’s gates leading to the surface. She let her feet take her to the estate. The housekeeper recognized her from earlier and let her pass. She crossed the hall, climbed up the stairs that led to the chambers, and knocked.
