Chapter 30

"Hey, Harding," Holli greeted, dropping down beside her at the campfire.

"Oh, h-hello, Lady Herald," she returned, as if surprised Holli had bothered to acknowledge her.

"Just Holli," she reminded. 

Holli shuffled a little closer to the fire, taking off her shoes and hoping to dry them a bit. Her converses were completely soaked from the rain and their jaunt down into the caves below the lake. What a fucking mess. The mayor had killed all those people... She understood the reasoning behind it, but surely not all of them were sick. Surely they could have avoided killing so many. Or a more humane way to put them down. Drowning was such an awful way to go.

There was a lot about the Blight she didn't understand. Most of her education had been focused on magic, the language, the territories, and the major players the Inquisition might need to make nice with. Maybe she should look into it more. But she was reluctant to take more time from researching a way home. 

They had set up camp outside of Crestwood village with Harding and her group. After the slog through the caves, they were soaking wet and tired. They had spent all night in those caves. At least when they'd come back to the surface, the rain had let up and the sun was rising. They'd gone to inform the mayor that the rift was closed only to find the man had bailed. Crestwood was going to need a new mayor. They'd trudged back to the Inquisition camp afterwards and were trying to dry off before taking a little rest and having something to eat. 

With her shoes and socks drying by the fire, she stripped off her coat and hung it over the makeshift line someone had set up for them. The others were doing the same with their own things as well. 

Holli had stripped down to her t-shirt and jeans, untied the messy bun her hair was up in and was wringing it out. 

"You have so much hair, my dear," Vivienne noted, trying to dry her own elaborate robes. "It must be quite difficult to maintain."

"Since I got here, it has gotten a bit fried. A proper hydrating conditioner has been difficult to get hold of. I've seen people here just washing their hair with bars of soap!"

"Fereldens are known for their barbarism."

"Hey!" Harding interjected.

"Are you Ferelden, Harding?" Holli asked. 

"I am."

"Your hair looks nice and healthy. What do you use?"

"A mixture of egg, milk, and a little bit of oil. It's what my ma always used while I was growing up."

"Awesome, thanks. I'll give that a try when I get back to Skyhold."

"You women and your hair," Hawke said snidely, wringing out his shirt. "My mother and sister were the same."

"It's clear you never listened to them," Holli said, casting a pointed look at the mop on top of his head. "That's one thing I miss about my world."

"Sons listening to their mothers?" Hawke asked.

She let out a laugh at that, as if the idea was so absurd. 

"No, the hair care and skin care products. I had this papaya hair food; it was so freaking good. Made my hair feel like silk."

"What's papaya?" Harding asked.

"It's a tropical fruit. We use them for eating, in cosmetics, and in pharmaceuticals. I don't know if you have them here or if maybe they just have a different name. Need to keep an eye out."

That last bit was more to herself than anything. She had a rough idea of how to make papaya extract and use it to make a conditioner. Hopefully she would just get home soon and could get back to her normal skin and hair routines. 

Holli brushed out her hair before tying it into two braids. It would at least dry quicker out of a big messy pile. 

"All right, eat up, then we're going to find Stroud," Hawke told them all. 

"Do I have to come?" Holli groaned.

"Yes," Hawke said. "Given our positions, I think you might be my heir. You need to know what I know."

"What!?" She looked to Solas and Varric. "That's not right, right?"

"I'm not sure why you think we'd be the ones to ask, little bird," Varric said, sipping at the hot drink in his hands.

"Aren't you in the know? You've got seniority; you've been here since the beginning."

"So have you," Varric retorted. "You just slept through the first few days."

"Okay, okay, no one's going to entrust an organisation like this to a teenager," it was a reminder to herself, as well as the others.

"Well, I don't plan on dying any time soon," Hawke said. "But I'm quite sure I'm meant to be grooming you for the position."

"Thedas is doomed," Blackwall muttered, earning a half-hearted glare from Hawke. 

"I don't feel like you know me well enough to judge my teaching capabilities," Hawke told him haughtily. 

"Sorry, just going off of what I've seen."

Holli let out a low, amused laugh, holding her hand up to Blackwall. When he didn't seem to know what to do with it, she grabbed his hand and clapped it against hers. 

"Nice burn," she congratulated him. 

Harding watched the exchange with an amused eye. It was a rare glimpse into this group she had never been witness to before. The Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, and the inner circle were almost revered figures in the Inquisition. They got things done and defied the odds to do it. But the Inquisitor was not what she expected, and whatever else she was, the Herald was practically a child. It was easy to forget that sometimes, considering the feats she'd accomplished and the stories told about her. 

When Hawke deemed them sufficiently fed, watered, and rested, he had them get ready to head out. Holli pulled her shoes and socks back on, her face scrunching up at the feeling of wet socks in wet shoes. If she got a fungal nail infection, she was going to be pissed. Could she heal fungal infections? 

The cave Stroud was holed up in wasn't too far out of Crestwood, at least, and the group made their way inside. They took the place in. It was quite spacious, with plenty of nooks and crannies to give at least the illusion of rooms. It was clear Stroud had been holed up here for a while. The sound of a sword being drawn caught their attention, and Holli turned to find the point of one levelled at her.

"What are you doing here, little girl?"

Solas drew his staff, but Cole appeared behind the man, one of his daggers at his throat, the warning clear.

"Wait, Stroud! I brought them," Hawke said, popping out from one of the other alcoves in the caves formation. "Let's all put our weapons away."

Cole didn't move until Stroud at least lowered his sword a little. 

"I'd heard you became Inquisitor," he said to Hawke as he sheathed his sword. "I could scarcely believe it. Then I remembered who you were and how you like to get in over your head."

"I think I make quite the Inquisitor, thank you."

"I'm curious as to what you're basing that on," Solas said.

"If I didn't know you all adored me, I might start taking these little digs seriously."

"Can we get on topic?" Blackwall asked. "Corypheus and the Wardens."

Stroud nodded. "When you slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was happy to put the matter to rest. But an Archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal, and I feared Corypheus might possess the same power. My investigation uncovered clues, but no proof. Then, not long after, every Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling."

"You never told me that before," Hawke said.

"It was a Grey Warden matter. I was bound by an oath of secrecy."

"What is the Calling?" Holli asked.

Stroud sighed before reluctantly answering. "The Calling tells a Warden that the blight will soon claim him. Starts with dreams. Then come whispers in his head. The Warden says his farewells and goes to the Deep Roads to meet his death in combat."

"And every Grey Warden in Orlais is hearing that right now? They think they're dying?" Hawke pressed.

"Yes, likely because of Corypheus. If the Wardens fall, who will stand against the next Blight? It is our greatest fear."

"And then they do something desperate... which is, of course, what Corypheus wants."

"Is the Calling they're hearing real, or is Corypheus mimicking it somehow? Maybe we can disrupt it?" Holli asked.

"I know not. Even as a senior Warden, I had heard only the vaguest of whispers of Corypheus. The Wardens believe that this Calling is real, and they will act accordingly. That is all we know for certain."

"So you're hearing this Calling right now?" Holli asked. "You as well, Blackwall?"

Blackwall nodded.

"Sadly, yes," Stroud replied. "It lurks like a wolf in the shadows around a campfire. The creature that makes this music has never known the love of the Maker, but... at times, I almost understand it."

"The Calling is music?" 

"Not like a song being sung in a tavern. It is... a sound of dreadful beauty." He shook it off. "We must uncover what Corypheus has done and end it. This cannot stand."

"Okay, but how can Corypheus make all these Wardens hear the Calling?" Holli asked. They must have some idea.

"I cannot say. We know little about him, save that he is dangerous. He is a magister as well as a darkspawn – and speaks with the voice of the blight. That lets him affect the minds of Wardens since we are tied to the blight ourselves. It must be how he created this false calling."

She didn't understand. How were Wardens tied to the blight? Was it different from blight sickness? The mayor of Crestwood had killed a whole bunch of people for that. While she had read mention of the blight in passing, she hadn't delved into it. Same with darkspawn. They were creatures that could spread blight. Beyond that, she knew nothing. Might really be time to educate herself once she got back to Skyhold.

"So the Wardens think they're dying and aren't thinking clearly," Hawke said. "That won't go well."

"We are the only ones who can slay Archdemons. Without us, the next Blight will consume the world. Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood magic ritual to prevent future Blights before we all perished. When I protested the plan as madness, my own comrades turned on me. Grey Wardens are gathering in the Western Approach, in an ancient Tevinter ritual tower. Meet me there, and we will find answers."

He headed for the cave entrance, not bothering to look back.

"Bye, I guess," Holli muttered.