Moments

Moment of Goat

"I did not realize you were in the area. I spotted the signal and came for help," she said. Only a silver of her eyes, nose, and chin were visible underneath the helmet. All that kept bobbing back and forth as the horse stamped its feet. I feared I'd fall sea sick from watching her speak for too long.

Shaking my head to clear the nausea, I asked, "What is it?"

"There is a situation with a mage," she said.

I glanced back to my company, who abandoned the tents for weapons. "Venatori? Possession? Blood Magic?"

"No," she glanced back the way she came across the horizon, "the mage is not the danger. It is...perhaps it would be best if you saw yourself."

Sighing, I sheathed my daggers and slipped my bow across my horse's saddle horn. "Stay here," I said to the rest, "finish building up the campsite. I'll go see what's up with this mage." The men squirmed as if they felt they should go with but exhaustion kept them from actively attempting to disobey my order.

With no objections, I slid my still burred shoe into the foot strap, and hoisted myself up onto the horse. Muscles I'd written off as long past use fired alive, clinging tighter to my horse's flank. Picking up the reins, I gestured to the scout, "Lead on to this mage."

While we road away from a proper fire and meal to find an inexplicable mage, I heard Varric exclaim behind me, "Every time she climbs up on that thing I feel like we cease to exist."

Despite exhaustion wrenching my muscles, I couldn't help but appreciate the grandeur of the scenery. Whoever named it emerald graves wasn't far off; a verdant beauty growing overtop a mass grave of my people. Nugs skittered away from our horses' hooves churning up the wet ground. Even the mud in the emerald graves smelled different, sweet like clover and hay despite neither being around. Josephine whispered of a popular beauty treatment in Orlais involving ladies smothering their faces in the stuff. Knowing merchants, they were probably clearing their complexions with nug dung.

"How much further?" I called to my scout. She rounded her horse up an incline, taking us higher around the path. At least we skirted past the giants, a foe I was in no mood to tussle with. Admiring from afar was the best approach with a giant, preferably as far as Skyhold.

"There!" she shouted, pointing at the top of the edge of a cliff. A stream dribbled over the top, plopping into a shallow pool beside us. I squinted, only able to make out two human shaped shadows silhouetted by the passing sun, and one other much smaller and on all fours.

I noticed the third shadow had a rope tied around its neck and asked the gods, "Creators, what am I going to find?" Urging my horse into a cantor, I closed the distance quickly. My scout trailed behind, happy to let the Inquisitor take over for whatever madness lay before me.

My horse balked at the final climb up the rocky land. I slid off her and snatched up my bow. She whinnied for a treat, which...I patted my pockets fruitlessly. "Sorry," I said, but the scout leaned over, holding out something in her hand. She didn't dismount. Another great sign from the gods.

Using my hands to assist, I climbed up the massive rocks. A single voice spoke above me, asking for clemency with all the words available to him. My head poked up above the ground, but all I could see were boots shifting around a couple pairs of hooves. Placing my hand upon the flat ground above, I rose up to watch a mage in one of the ugliest hats I'd ever seen pacing around an exasperated man.

"Cullen?" I called. He broke away from the soppy man with one hand holding open a book and the other inserted in his own mouth.

The commander held out a hand for me, and together we tried to get me up to their level with as much dignity as possible. I slid my fingers across my bow to check for any damage then turned to him, "What are you doing here?"