Corypheus

                          EXALT THE ELDER ONE!                                           THE WILL THAT IS CORYPHEUS!  

plenty of humans would look at taeros and see a savage knife-ear .   nick had …   looked at him differently ,  after a while .   he saw more than just vallaslin and pointed ears .   but corypheus’s words are enough to make him doubt ,  make him think that maybe he was disillusioned ,  that he was looking too far into what they’ve initiated .

a small snarl crosses his face .

          “  i’m no slave to the inquisitor .   i joined the inquisition on my own accord .  ”   and if he wanted to ,  he could walk away at any moment .   “  and why should i trust your words ?   a magister from a time long gone trying to play god ?  ”

he might regret that later .   but ,  in the moment ,  it felt good .

still ,  while he doesn’t want to think on the words that corypheus says ,  he gives plenty of pause when the magister asks if he knows who or …   what he is .   was it a trick question ?

          “  i mean something to nick .   and he might hate the south ,  but he’s still working to save it ,  and that’s enough for me .  ”   though he does pray that with nick as the inquisitor ,  he doesn’t simply doom thedas immediately after saving it .   “  your words mean nothing if you’re just trying to insult me .  ”

not all who served the inquisitor were loyal . there were some who would give information to the enemy  .   some who no doubt would do what was necessary to ensure that the elder one did what was no doubt  required .  yet ,  not everything was known  .  secrets were kept for good reason ,  but they also came with a price . 

       “ you’re an elf , ” he says sharply, arms sliding across his chest . “ that is what you are meant to do . to serve and do as you are told .  to think you’re anything else is barbaric . ”  free elves ?  one’s that would stand up to the elder one ?   what was this madness ?  just how long had he been imprisoned for ?   too long he supposed .

the world needed correcting ,  he knew that much ,  but as to how how badly it was ?  he now believed it was far more than something that could be corrected with brute force .  no ,  he would have to ensure the world was remade into his designs .  that the imperium would not just stand .  that they would forever hold dominion over the elves or perhaps get rid of them ... as well as the qunari .  to solve two problems in one wave of a hand .

however , there were still more pressing issues at hand .  like the inquisitor and his pet . the entire inquisition was a threat and yet ... there was hope that things could change .  that it would not stand in his way , but he supposed that the time would come for that ... one way or another .

     “ you’re a living , breathing , insult , ” he says sharply . “ even to the very ground you walk on .   something that will be taken care of . ”  not now ,  but soon .  when the elder one would force a challenge to the inquisitor  .  just to see where his heart truly was  and perhaps ... even tear it out .  

Purpose and pride ripple across the dreamscape, sending shockwaves which reverberate beyond its boundaries. Doubt chases, not far behind, unbecoming of one with a legacy as feared as Corypheus’. He moves to correct the course, garbed in a form more familiar to his host. He is Pride no longer, but still more than capable of stoking egos if he stood to gain from it.

“The world is already steeped in chaos.” In the south one war follows the last as the seasons, and in the north the threat of invasion is pointed always at Tevinter’s throat. Voices collect in the air, prayers for the Maker’s intervention in all that vexes them. Prayers that will go unanswered, unless, of course, another ‘god’ steps in to heed their call. “The only failure lies in the failure to act, to deny a steady hand to those who prayed for guidance.”

Eyes close tightly as head tilts towards them. Knowing what was and what was to come was one thing. To go forth with what was necessary was another entirely. He knew that far better than most would have and yet far less as well. It simply was a matter of time before he could enact his plan into action.

“They pray to a non-existent being. To one that was never there to begin with.” He knew what had happened and how many would not even act. Not even the six that were left over... if they still lived. He knew a few did; two besides himself, but they would still not act. They would not do what was necessary.

“I shall be that hand. To bring back what was lost. To raise the Imperium back to it’s rightful status. To ensure that what was... will be again.” A burden he wasn’t entirely sure he could or would ever do, but... he knew that it was one that was truly necessary given the fact that the world was reaching a tipping point. A crisis that they would not return from and action would have to be taken sooner rather than later.

Ah, the Wardens. Once, part of his dream to free their—his—people, but those who had stayed with him were…not as sound as they could be, as naturally born Darkspawn were. He would need to find a way to rectify that. He wouldn’t lead a revolt against the Archdemons when half of their numbers dissociated at random.That, and the lack of equality could lead to dissension, and that would spell disaster and—

His brother before the Gods. Focus on him. “And yet, escape you did.”

“Yelling? Was it many voices? One? Mortal or no?” Cyril didn’t know if he would be of any help in filling the gaps, still having too many of his own, but he’d try.

Yelling didn’t explain that red stone that hummed and hissed, both an alluring sound and something that hurt his ears, made his mind itch and squirm in discomfort, if that made any sense at all.

But the yelling…Was it their screaming in panic when—when what? He remembered something went wrong, but not what, their panic and terror, and then nothing for…he didn’t know how long. Perhaps he remembered less than Corypheus…Or was it something else?

There were gaps everywhere. What he remembered was not exactly much, but far more than he expected. He knew who he was, he knew what happened - just not all of it. There was something else... he just didn’t remember what or maybe it was just because he chose not to. That he decided it wasn’t important enough and he wasn’t truly sure what it was to begin with.

Eyes closed for a moment in concentration before he spoke again. “Yes, I escaped after ages of torment. Held in a cell, confused, and longing for escape.” No one knew what was going on until it was far too late. Until he was released from his his prison to bring doom upon all the world.

“Many voices. Panic, but also demands. A need for more.” Something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on. An itch that he couldn’t quite scratch and while they echoed in his mind... he still wasn’t sure why. Maybe he never would be sure why, but he did know ( among other things ) that they were there for a reason.

“The simple minded masses cling to their lies out of fear and nothing more. Anything, or anyone, who contradicts their web of safety is automatically viewed as an abomination. You and I are both aware that death can be both avoided and returned from,” his gaze isn’t on the other, but he continues, “I have information regarding the inquisition that I believe you might find incredibly useful.”

“Only by those willing to do what is entirely necessary.” Either by defying standards of the world or trading everything for what they believed in. He had managed to see many things. Just like he was trapped for so long and no one realized he hatched a plan to escape before it was far too late.

How tempted he was to tell him. To tell Sethius the golden glory he had stolen him. About how close they had all come to such great power. How lost Sethius was now, how mad. He enjoyed watching it. He savoured the suffering. The only thing that the other said was true was that Saramus didn’t know what the consequences were. He had never meant for something like the Blights to happen… but how could he have known? “So, what do you intend to do about the Inquisitor?” He inquired, playing along for the moment.

No one could have known what would have happened, but it was done. Nothing could change it now. Not even after all that Cory had done to ensure that things would come to pass. That he would ultimately have what he wanted... one way or three others. He would succeed. He must. It was the only way.