There's a muted flicker of a smile at Strange's correction; the idiom isn't one he'd use, but it's clear enough.
"I think some people you'd ask would say I hadn't properly left until I gave up the lyrium. The Divine's election was when I formally resigned: gave up my rank, stepped out of the chain of command. That said." He pauses, considering his words. "I think the crisis might have come sooner, if it weren't for Corypheus, at least in hindsight." The hesitation is less because he thinks Strange will be an unsympathetic listener and more that he's told this story so seldom. At least in this way.
"The attack on the Divine Conclave in 9:41. The timing was." Another pause. "The mage I mentioned, the one who defected to the Venatori. He saved my life, during the Mage-Templar War. Wasn't in it, he was an apostate hiding in the woods, but ... it would have been very easy for him to let me die. All he'd have had to do was nothing. But instead, I was recuperating in his home when the Conclave was attacked. When we got word, heard of the Inquisition ... we went to Skyhold, when I was strong enough to travel."
He looks out at nothing in particular. It feels as if it should make things easier, though it doesn't, especially. "I was still a Templar in name, but without formal leadership from the Chantry, we all had ... it felt like most people were happy enough to put the war to the side. We had Red Templars and Venatori to deal with, it meant pressing politics was mostly frowned upon, for a while."
The narration comes slow and halting, riddled with pauses, like something painstakingly excavated from deep, deep earth.
Strange listens to it with the gravity it deserves. Patient, attentive. And it is an interesting story, as far as he’s concerned. It’s a crucible, and he’s well-acquainted with crucibles.
“Hm,” he says, thoughtful. “I mean, I get it. With such a bigger distraction at hand— when the entire building’s on fire all around you, you’re not exactly going to take the time to sit down and ponder how you feel about ethical questions writ large. You’re only trying to put the fire out. I suspect some of the others are still in that situation, too; it’s not like the war’s ended yet.”
"Yes." Simple and direct, after how many pauses it took to get him there. "No one asked too many questions about why I turned up to Skyhold with an apostate; they were all too happy to welcome two more pairs of competent hands. But as time drew out, things." A full stop and a longer pause.
"Have you heard about the negotiations that surrounded a cache of recovered phylacteries? It was before Riftwatch broke off, so some of the longer-tenured Riftwatch members were directly involved, and others I assume remember it firsthand. The Inquisition's mages organized a strike when the organization wouldn't hand over the phylacteries to the mages they affected after securing them."
“I heard a bit,” Strange says. “Baudin and the Seneschal were kind enough to entertain some questions on the subject. I heard the phylacteries of identified mages were supposed to be destroyed.”
Although it’s a different context here, discussed with a former templar; the hunting hounds meant to hunt down wayward mages using those very phylacteries.
"Yes. As I recall, the Seneschal was deeply involved. I was not, but there was ... The Inquisition brought both its templars and its mages to the table, to try to negotiate out of the strike. The mages won the right to decide what to do with the phylacteries, those that could be identified as belonging to Inquisition-aligned mages, at least. But it came at the cost of some concessions. I am not a diplomat, but my understanding is that everyone leaves the table somewhat annoyed is not an uncommon outcome of this sort of discussion."
He sighs, though, and goes on. "I mention it because... I do not know for sure, but in hindsight, it seems to me, this was about when Antosha began to lose faith in the Inquisition. Based on some conversations we had," sometimes arguments, though not always, "I believe that he did not defect because he agreed with Corypheus. He defected because he feared that even if the Inquisition won the war, his reward would be imprisonment in a Circle. That the Inquisition would not shield him, or might even actively hand him over to the Chantry." Quieter, he adds: "I do not believe the man I knew would agree with all or most of the Venatori's politics and aims. But I can believe that he would hold his nose and tolerate them if it kept him out of a cage."
Vanya had been able to believe, for a time, that their identities as Templar and apostate were less important than their identities as Inquisition members. In hindsight, if Antosha had ever believed that, the belief hadn't lasted as long.
Mage rights. So often it always, always comes back to mage rights, like a steady heartbeat in the back of his skull.
“Not to pardon a defector, but it’s a valid question. What are we fighting for, if you wind up put in a cage after your service.” A pause. It’s gotten too personal, somehow accidentally slipsliding backwards into the topic again, and there’s a slight squirming discomfort in Strange’s chest at the prospect; but it feels a vague honour to be privy to it, too. Here’s one of the only other men more reticent to discuss their feelings than Stephen Strange himself, and they’ve found the inadvertent lever to pry that door ajar. This isn’t really a doctor’s checkup any longer.
“Strictly speaking, it’s not too different a situation than the rifters are in, too. We still have no idea what everyone will do with us when the war’s over.”
Or if they’ll even still exist if rifts stop happening, or if they’ll be able to keep enough people in one place that the anchors don’t kill them either, or, or… But those are problems for another day.
“There was a saying, where I grew up: don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow.“ It’s a rural, folksy idiom. “I expect we’ll just have to focus on the present problems and cross that other bridge when we get to it. Sorry your guy didn’t wait.”
Which is a plain way of putting it, but— Strange means it.
"Yes, I am as well." He's well aware how impolitic it is to say I miss him about a man who's been (as far as Vanya knows) actively aiding the Venatori longer than he'd been part of the Inquisition. Even so.
"Regardless. I suspect I would have left the Templars even without meeting him, sooner or later. By the war, I had doubts about the disconnect between the rhetoric and the actual actions I saw our leaders taking. But he likely sped things up. And then the new Exalted March was ... I was ready for a catalyst, I think, when it came." A short pause. "I wanted to believe it could be reformed, the Order. But I do not think the momentum is going that way, now."
“So, simple enough: sounds like we just need to manufacture another continent-wide catalyst. No big deal at all.”
It’s the driest of jokes, and perhaps an offering of an out: a loosening of the strings. His expression is rueful; it’s a weary acknowledgment of that long uphill slog sitting ahead of the other templars. An uphill walk Vanya’s already done.
“Regardless. I appreciate you taking the time to come by today, and fill me in about it all. Correcting the fact that I wasn’t able to speak to you about it before.”
The barest flicker of a smile. "I suspect I've told you much more than you actually wanted to know, but I do hope some of it is helpful. And at least I can confirm I am one less person you have to worry about, if something affects Riftwatch's lyrium supply."
He gets to his feet. "If you think of other questions, or if I can be of further help, I do hope you will let me know, doctor."
“I’ll remind you I did ask for the long version, after all,” Strange grants him, echoing the smile back.
After Vanya leaves, it takes the Head Healer a while to sort through his thoughts, judging what’s worth putting into the official record: dictating notes into his sending crystal for private storage and then later transcription by a trusted hand. Mostly it’s the first part of the conversation: symptoms, the withdrawal process, the jumbled memories and suspected memory loss, a couple timeline milestones.
Still. It felt good, hearing the actual story from the actual man, and not a creature masquerading as him.
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portalling) wrote2022-04-02 01:17 pm
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no subject
"I think some people you'd ask would say I hadn't properly left until I gave up the lyrium. The Divine's election was when I formally resigned: gave up my rank, stepped out of the chain of command. That said." He pauses, considering his words. "I think the crisis might have come sooner, if it weren't for Corypheus, at least in hindsight." The hesitation is less because he thinks Strange will be an unsympathetic listener and more that he's told this story so seldom. At least in this way.
"The attack on the Divine Conclave in 9:41. The timing was." Another pause. "The mage I mentioned, the one who defected to the Venatori. He saved my life, during the Mage-Templar War. Wasn't in it, he was an apostate hiding in the woods, but ... it would have been very easy for him to let me die. All he'd have had to do was nothing. But instead, I was recuperating in his home when the Conclave was attacked. When we got word, heard of the Inquisition ... we went to Skyhold, when I was strong enough to travel."
He looks out at nothing in particular. It feels as if it should make things easier, though it doesn't, especially. "I was still a Templar in name, but without formal leadership from the Chantry, we all had ... it felt like most people were happy enough to put the war to the side. We had Red Templars and Venatori to deal with, it meant pressing politics was mostly frowned upon, for a while."
no subject
Strange listens to it with the gravity it deserves. Patient, attentive. And it is an interesting story, as far as he’s concerned. It’s a crucible, and he’s well-acquainted with crucibles.
“Hm,” he says, thoughtful. “I mean, I get it. With such a bigger distraction at hand— when the entire building’s on fire all around you, you’re not exactly going to take the time to sit down and ponder how you feel about ethical questions writ large. You’re only trying to put the fire out. I suspect some of the others are still in that situation, too; it’s not like the war’s ended yet.”
no subject
"Have you heard about the negotiations that surrounded a cache of recovered phylacteries? It was before Riftwatch broke off, so some of the longer-tenured Riftwatch members were directly involved, and others I assume remember it firsthand. The Inquisition's mages organized a strike when the organization wouldn't hand over the phylacteries to the mages they affected after securing them."
no subject
Although it’s a different context here, discussed with a former templar; the hunting hounds meant to hunt down wayward mages using those very phylacteries.
no subject
He sighs, though, and goes on. "I mention it because... I do not know for sure, but in hindsight, it seems to me, this was about when Antosha began to lose faith in the Inquisition. Based on some conversations we had," sometimes arguments, though not always, "I believe that he did not defect because he agreed with Corypheus. He defected because he feared that even if the Inquisition won the war, his reward would be imprisonment in a Circle. That the Inquisition would not shield him, or might even actively hand him over to the Chantry." Quieter, he adds: "I do not believe the man I knew would agree with all or most of the Venatori's politics and aims. But I can believe that he would hold his nose and tolerate them if it kept him out of a cage."
Vanya had been able to believe, for a time, that their identities as Templar and apostate were less important than their identities as Inquisition members. In hindsight, if Antosha had ever believed that, the belief hadn't lasted as long.
no subject
“Not to pardon a defector, but it’s a valid question. What are we fighting for, if you wind up put in a cage after your service.” A pause. It’s gotten too personal, somehow accidentally slipsliding backwards into the topic again, and there’s a slight squirming discomfort in Strange’s chest at the prospect; but it feels a vague honour to be privy to it, too. Here’s one of the only other men more reticent to discuss their feelings than Stephen Strange himself, and they’ve found the inadvertent lever to pry that door ajar. This isn’t really a doctor’s checkup any longer.
“Strictly speaking, it’s not too different a situation than the rifters are in, too. We still have no idea what everyone will do with us when the war’s over.”
Or if they’ll even still exist if rifts stop happening, or if they’ll be able to keep enough people in one place that the anchors don’t kill them either, or, or… But those are problems for another day.
“There was a saying, where I grew up: don’t borrow trouble from tomorrow.“ It’s a rural, folksy idiom. “I expect we’ll just have to focus on the present problems and cross that other bridge when we get to it. Sorry your guy didn’t wait.”
Which is a plain way of putting it, but— Strange means it.
no subject
"Regardless. I suspect I would have left the Templars even without meeting him, sooner or later. By the war, I had doubts about the disconnect between the rhetoric and the actual actions I saw our leaders taking. But he likely sped things up. And then the new Exalted March was ... I was ready for a catalyst, I think, when it came." A short pause. "I wanted to believe it could be reformed, the Order. But I do not think the momentum is going that way, now."
no subject
It’s the driest of jokes, and perhaps an offering of an out: a loosening of the strings. His expression is rueful; it’s a weary acknowledgment of that long uphill slog sitting ahead of the other templars. An uphill walk Vanya’s already done.
“Regardless. I appreciate you taking the time to come by today, and fill me in about it all. Correcting the fact that I wasn’t able to speak to you about it before.”
For, y’know. Demon-shaped reasons.
no subject
He gets to his feet. "If you think of other questions, or if I can be of further help, I do hope you will let me know, doctor."
🎀
After Vanya leaves, it takes the Head Healer a while to sort through his thoughts, judging what’s worth putting into the official record: dictating notes into his sending crystal for private storage and then later transcription by a trusted hand. Mostly it’s the first part of the conversation: symptoms, the withdrawal process, the jumbled memories and suspected memory loss, a couple timeline milestones.
Still. It felt good, hearing the actual story from the actual man, and not a creature masquerading as him.
Fixing a mistake.