[A few days later, a follow up note is left in Margaery's mail cubby in the dining hall or slipped beneath her door or left in some similar location where she is likely to find it. It reads--]
Miss,
I am most appreciative of you taking the time to answer and return the survey. In an effort to be most thorough in my research, if you would please expound upon your answer for Question 3A to which you wrote, 'It is believed to be gone, if it ever existed.'
If there is common beliefs or mythology in your world regarding the disappearance of magic, might you be so kind as to expound upon it here?
Please let me know if you have any additional questions or if you should need assistance with anything whatsoever during your seclusion in the Gallows.
From what I can understand, 'magic' in my world is called 'higher mysteries', and in the country I hail from, it is thought to be a mythical force, ancient enough that many question if it ever existed at all.
Long before, kings and queens of our kingdoms ruled with dragons by their side. Those dragons were killed into extinction when their dynasty was more or less toppled, but during my time, there were accounts of the daughter of the last king, who somehow hatched three very old dragons during her exile. Given the incredulity of these circumstances, I imagine there was some involvement of... blood magic? Or perhaps another influence of some kind that I am unaware of.
However, I have also heard of magic being studied and housed in great many other countries, such as necromancers and sorcerers. Regrettably, I had little reason to ever travel to these other places and cannot tell you much more beyond that.
There are also those who proclaim themselves to be servants of a god, the Lord of Light, who have been known to perform... incredible deeds. A trustworthy warrior who was in my first husband's tent on the night he was killed told me that she saw a demon, with the face of his enemy, stab him through the heart and disappear. If this account is true, it is undoubtedly the work of one such priestess, who was supporting his enemy. I never saw her with my own eyes, but I understand that she was rather unsettling to behold, with confidence in unpredictability and unbothered by any chill.
I hope these details, however sparse they are, will be of great help to you.
First, allow me to extend me sincerest condolences with respect to the loss of your husband. I understand that such things can be quite difficult. That said, I thank you for the thoughtfulness and thorough nature of your reply. The details you have provided are indeed make your account into a very useful addition of the survey records.
You see, I am studying those commonalities which occur between the worlds of Rifters and Thedas, and reoccurring themes such as the use of blood magic or the raising of the dead and so on is quite relevant to my studies. If you should ever find yourself curious about the details, whether it be a more thorough explanation of what I have collected so far or how your own account may be implemented into the project's documentation, then I would be most happy to review the subject with you.
To a somewhat similar endβShould you have any questions not related to the survey, or if you should need any assistance as you grow comfortable in the Gallows, then please do not hesitate to call upon me.
I thank you for your condolences, and shall endeavor to see if there are any other details I remember as time goes on.
That being said, I do find myself intrigued by the possible commonalities and where my own world might fall into the pattern. Please let me know of a date and time for us to meet, as I'm sure your schedule is far busier than my own. In the meantime, I shall draft up a list of anything else I recollect that may pass for magic.
Your kindness is duly noted, and sincerely appreciated. Please also never hesitate to let me know how else I may help you, or the Research Division.
Out of curiosity - has anyone elected to ever remove the shard from their limb?
I would be most happy to meet with you. Let us say this evening, should your schedule permit it. I will be in Kirkwall for the majority of the day, but mean to return to the Gallows by nightfall. Meet me in the Project Felandaris workshop shortly thereafter. It is on the seven floor in the central tower. I will arrange to bring along something to eat or drink so we will not go too hungry if our conversation runs very late.
With respect to your curiosityβI know of no one personally. There was a death resulting from the anchor's effects on the body of a native woman, but I have never known anyone who made an attempt to extract it an I am uncertain what effects removing an anchor would have on a rifter.
I look forward to becoming better acquainted in person and will endeavor to answer any further questions you might have then.
Ever since she's learned that removing a shard required far more sacrifice than it was worth, she's been resigned to her fate, to this foreign object embedded into her palm. To learn more feels as though it may be more of a risk for despair than hope, but the need for knowledge has never been without cost.
She's taken off the bandages that cover up the neon coloring, looking down at it with a small frown before she remembers why she's here and tentatively knocks on the door.
And then she straightens all at once, and her face takes on such a broad look of enthusiasm that it might almost be considered mugging if not for the very genuine sincerity in the thing.
"Oh! You must be Madame Margaery!" She immediately abandons the table and closes the distance in a flurry of skirts. With all the battering force of a hurricane, she takes immediate possession of both of Margaery's hands in one of her own. "It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance in person. It was not too difficult, I hope? To locate the office, I mean. The Gallows is so dreadfully uniform. It is so difficult to tell where you have been compared to where you have not."
From the contents of the letters, Margaery had subconsciously expected a stuffy, older female, somewhere between socially-awkward-from-lack-of-experience (as some learned types tended to be) and overestimation-of-one's-own-intelligence. Instead, she finds herself startled when the good madame turns and greets her with a look that almost makes Margaery's own facial muscles ache in solidarity.
Thankfully, she's given a moment to compose herself, finding her own smile appearing from the infectious nature of this very flattering excitement. It's a lot of personal space discarded in a single moment, but her slow reaction serves her well, disguising her discomfort. "It's quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance in person as well."
Her eyes stray to the hair that's come loose, and the number of documents on the table, brows taking on a concerned curve. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
"Disturbing me? Oh no, mot at all. I am merely engaged in some light filing. The project office papers have become quite disorganized since Mister Stark took the position as Research's division head. For there is no current head of Felandaris, you see." She is still holding Margaery's hand; presumably the only reason she is not pumping up and down in an enthusiastic handshake is due to the fact that handshaking isn't a particularly ladylike past time.
"No, you must come in. I insist. Here," she says, leading her new compatriot further into the office space. "There is a chair right here which you may sit in and I will draw over the stool from the little workbench and then we may discuss the whole matter at length. Would you like to see the relevant papers, or shall we just discuss their contents? I've filed a great majority here in this very room."
Margaery gets the distinct feeling that she won't need to speak very much tonight - and somehow it's comforting. Familiar. All she's done since she's arrived is learn and as the whole mess of her arrival is still gnarled and tangled in her mind, she's happier for the fact that no one asks her any pressing questions or invites her to speak about herself.
So there's a new, genuine hint of relief as she takes the offered seat and smiles up at Wysteria.
"Discussion should be just fine, I think. My time in the library has been focused on catching up on all the knowledge of this place and I'd like to seek a break for my eyes whenever I can."
A pause.
"If it's alright for me to ask - what draws you to be so passionate about rifter knowledge, my lady? What do you hope to accomplish?"
The stool in question is obviously retrieved just as promptly.
"You are perfectly free. This is a room of curiosity, where no question is a poor one." That's a lie. She can think of a half dozen very stupid questions someone might ask about the nature of rifts but it would be discouraging to say so and in circumstances such as these where one is hoping to retrieve information from a person, one ought to be as welcoming as is possible. With a swish of her brightly colored skirts, Wysteria deposits herself onto the stool before Margaery.
"I had a dear friend who was very interested in the subject," she explains. Dear is, perhaps, a gross exaggeration of hers and Fitz' relationship (which had been predominantly characterized with bickering and hissed arguments, but why should one bother to argue with someone they didn't feel was worth arguing with?) and yetβ "He and I authored the survey you took. We supposed there must be some commonalities between rifters or their worlds and that identifying them might reveal some element of the method of their arrival here in Thedas, some truth about the nature of the Fade, or perhaps a solution to the eventual repair of the Veil."
Wysteria speaks of her 'dear friend' in past tense, and Margaery's too polite to press further, although she gets the feeling that if she were to ask, she'd get an easy waterfall of an answer. Instead, she nods politely to show that she's listening, and takes a moment (and a breath) to formulate the first of many questions she has.
"Have you been able to figure out any discernible pattern as of yet?" is what she asks first, deciding it's the safer option than asking questions that will lend uncomfortably accurate insights into the circumstances of her own arrival.
"A pattern? No. But points of similarity, certainly. Take, for example, the proliferation of rifters which originate from places where either the arcane arts are common place, or the work of scholars has advanced far beyond those of Thedas. Orβwell, that is not entirely fair. There are many fine scholars in Thedas. But Mister Holden is from a ship which sails the stars, and I have heard Mister Stark complain more than once about the lack of indoor plumbing. So it is a different sort of evaluation, you see. To say nothing of how some rifters have been altered by their passage here into this place, as if we are simultaneously fantastical and also as if the rules which govern Thedas can only be altered so far."
But this is a somewhat harebrained theory, and rather grounded in those silly questions of self-assessment which had been struck so blatantly from the survey. And so Wysteria chatters on:
"But it is encouraging, I think, that there many versions of things quite similar to the Veil and the Fade in many of the places where Rifters come from. βOh, and I suppose there is of course that fact that we have all come to this place while dreaming. That is certainly a bit of commonality as well."
In her surprise, Margaery forgets to disguise the alarm in her voice with the dense tone of curiosity. In her haste, she tries again for clarification and ends up asking a Stupid Question, "While asleep, I presume you mean?"
Which leads to another hurried, awkward cover-up attempt: "Everyone has come through the rift while they're dreaming in their sleep?"
"Yes," is her immediate reply. And thenβ"No." And furtherβ"Well, there is one possible exception that I know of. But it very well may have been a dream. There is, or rather there was"βBeth is still at this point with their company, and this acts as a clumsy way to obscure her identityβ"Someone who believe that she, I mean they had died right before their arrival. But even if that is so, I suspect that their consciousness must have passed into the Fade in some moment of unconsciousness between the waking and death. Given all else, it seems highly unlikely that the spiritβif we are calling it such a thing, with the full understanding that I don't mean a spirit in the way someone here in Thedas mightβmay have done so on its own."
A pause. She takes a short breath, then reaffirms quite confidently:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
Madame:
From what I can understand, 'magic' in my world is called 'higher mysteries', and in the country I hail from, it is thought to be a mythical force, ancient enough that many question if it ever existed at all.
Long before, kings and queens of our kingdoms ruled with dragons by their side. Those dragons were killed into extinction when their dynasty was more or less toppled, but during my time, there were accounts of the daughter of the last king, who somehow hatched three very old dragons during her exile. Given the incredulity of these circumstances, I imagine there was some involvement of... blood magic? Or perhaps another influence of some kind that I am unaware of.
However, I have also heard of magic being studied and housed in great many other countries, such as necromancers and sorcerers. Regrettably, I had little reason to ever travel to these other places and cannot tell you much more beyond that.
There are also those who proclaim themselves to be servants of a god, the Lord of Light, who have been known to perform... incredible deeds. A trustworthy warrior who was in my first husband's tent on the night he was killed told me that she saw a demon, with the face of his enemy, stab him through the heart and disappear. If this account is true, it is undoubtedly the work of one such priestess, who was supporting his enemy. I never saw her with my own eyes, but I understand that she was rather unsettling to behold, with confidence in unpredictability and unbothered by any chill.
I hope these details, however sparse they are, will be of great help to you.
With the greatest respect,
Margaery
no subject
First, allow me to extend me sincerest condolences with respect to the loss of your husband. I understand that such things can be quite difficult. That said, I thank you for the thoughtfulness and thorough nature of your reply. The details you have provided are indeed make your account into a very useful addition of the survey records.
You see, I am studying those commonalities which occur between the worlds of Rifters and Thedas, and reoccurring themes such as the use of blood magic or the raising of the dead and so on is quite relevant to my studies. If you should ever find yourself curious about the details, whether it be a more thorough explanation of what I have collected so far or how your own account may be implemented into the project's documentation, then I would be most happy to review the subject with you.
To a somewhat similar endβShould you have any questions not related to the survey, or if you should need any assistance as you grow comfortable in the Gallows, then please do not hesitate to call upon me.
Warm Regards,
Warmest Regards,
Mme. W.A. de FoncΓ©
Research Division
Project Felandaris
Assistant to the Seneschal
no subject
I thank you for your condolences, and shall endeavor to see if there are any other details I remember as time goes on.
That being said, I do find myself intrigued by the possible commonalities and where my own world might fall into the pattern. Please let me know of a date and time for us to meet, as I'm sure your schedule is far busier than my own. In the meantime, I shall draft up a list of anything else I recollect that may pass for magic.
Your kindness is duly noted, and sincerely appreciated. Please also never hesitate to let me know how else I may help you, or the Research Division.
Out of curiosity - has anyone elected to ever remove the shard from their limb?
Most respectfully,
Margaery
no subject
I would be most happy to meet with you. Let us say this evening, should your schedule permit it. I will be in Kirkwall for the majority of the day, but mean to return to the Gallows by nightfall. Meet me in the Project Felandaris workshop shortly thereafter. It is on the seven floor in the central tower. I will arrange to bring along something to eat or drink so we will not go too hungry if our conversation runs very late.
With respect to your curiosityβI know of no one personally. There was a death resulting from the anchor's effects on the body of a native woman, but I have never known anyone who made an attempt to extract it an I am uncertain what effects removing an anchor would have on a rifter.
I look forward to becoming better acquainted in person and will endeavor to answer any further questions you might have then.
Warmest Regards,
Mme. W.A. de FoncΓ©
Research Division
Project Felandaris
Assistant to the Seneschal
no subject
Ever since she's learned that removing a shard required far more sacrifice than it was worth, she's been resigned to her fate, to this foreign object embedded into her palm. To learn more feels as though it may be more of a risk for despair than hope, but the need for knowledge has never been without cost.
She's taken off the bandages that cover up the neon coloring, looking down at it with a small frown before she remembers why she's here and tentatively knocks on the door.
no subject
It is a rather chirping, some might say somewhat irritatingly pitched, voice which calls through the door. And beyond it, Madame de FoncΓ© is indeed rather like the voice of the words in her letters. She is neither especially tall, nor especially short, and for a moment as she is bent over the pages of her notes on one of the office's work tables de FoncΓ© might be easily taken as a perfectly good looking and not at all offensive young lady even if here at the end of a long day some of her goldish hair has started to come loose from the knot of her bun.
And then she straightens all at once, and her face takes on such a broad look of enthusiasm that it might almost be considered mugging if not for the very genuine sincerity in the thing.
"Oh! You must be Madame Margaery!" She immediately abandons the table and closes the distance in a flurry of skirts. With all the battering force of a hurricane, she takes immediate possession of both of Margaery's hands in one of her own. "It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance in person. It was not too difficult, I hope? To locate the office, I mean. The Gallows is so dreadfully uniform. It is so difficult to tell where you have been compared to where you have not."
no subject
Thankfully, she's given a moment to compose herself, finding her own smile appearing from the infectious nature of this very flattering excitement. It's a lot of personal space discarded in a single moment, but her slow reaction serves her well, disguising her discomfort. "It's quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance in person as well."
(Although the more she hears Madame de FoncΓ©'s voice, the more she's certain she's heard it around the dining halls like a bird's song.)
Her eyes stray to the hair that's come loose, and the number of documents on the table, brows taking on a concerned curve. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
no subject
"No, you must come in. I insist. Here," she says, leading her new compatriot further into the office space. "There is a chair right here which you may sit in and I will draw over the stool from the little workbench and then we may discuss the whole matter at length. Would you like to see the relevant papers, or shall we just discuss their contents? I've filed a great majority here in this very room."
i love wysteria sm
So there's a new, genuine hint of relief as she takes the offered seat and smiles up at Wysteria.
"Discussion should be just fine, I think. My time in the library has been focused on catching up on all the knowledge of this place and I'd like to seek a break for my eyes whenever I can."
A pause.
"If it's alright for me to ask - what draws you to be so passionate about rifter knowledge, my lady? What do you hope to accomplish?"
UuU*
"You are perfectly free. This is a room of curiosity, where no question is a poor one." That's a lie. She can think of a half dozen very stupid questions someone might ask about the nature of rifts but it would be discouraging to say so and in circumstances such as these where one is hoping to retrieve information from a person, one ought to be as welcoming as is possible. With a swish of her brightly colored skirts, Wysteria deposits herself onto the stool before Margaery.
"I had a dear friend who was very interested in the subject," she explains. Dear is, perhaps, a gross exaggeration of hers and Fitz' relationship (which had been predominantly characterized with bickering and hissed arguments, but why should one bother to argue with someone they didn't feel was worth arguing with?) and yetβ "He and I authored the survey you took. We supposed there must be some commonalities between rifters or their worlds and that identifying them might reveal some element of the method of their arrival here in Thedas, some truth about the nature of the Fade, or perhaps a solution to the eventual repair of the Veil."
no subject
"Have you been able to figure out any discernible pattern as of yet?" is what she asks first, deciding it's the safer option than asking questions that will lend uncomfortably accurate insights into the circumstances of her own arrival.
no subject
But this is a somewhat harebrained theory, and rather grounded in those silly questions of self-assessment which had been struck so blatantly from the survey. And so Wysteria chatters on:
"But it is encouraging, I think, that there many versions of things quite similar to the Veil and the Fade in many of the places where Rifters come from. βOh, and I suppose there is of course that fact that we have all come to this place while dreaming. That is certainly a bit of commonality as well."
no subject
In her surprise, Margaery forgets to disguise the alarm in her voice with the dense tone of curiosity. In her haste, she tries again for clarification and ends up asking a Stupid Question, "While asleep, I presume you mean?"
Which leads to another hurried, awkward cover-up attempt: "Everyone has come through the rift while they're dreaming in their sleep?"
no subject
A pause. She takes a short breath, then reaffirms quite confidently:
"Yes, we all arrive from out of a dream."