Power in Stories

“There's power in stories, though. That's all history is: the best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine.” – Varric Tethras

Bones, Chapter 4 – Prisoner

“Where did you get the dagger, woman?”

Lifting her head wearily despite the ache along her back, Kalya gave her interrogator her best glower. It probably wasn’t actually her best, of course, given her current state but it was the best attempt she could put forth at the moment.

“I told you,” she hissed, “I found it.” Licking her dried and cracked lips, she added, “It’s not my fault that you won’t believe me.”

The man standing over her, resplendent in his fine armor with the dark green sash of Konda Suon’s Order across his chest, sneered. Leaning forward, he grabbed one of her forearms roughly with a bruising grip and shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth.

“Lies!” he exploded. “That’s a Guild dagger! None other would have the wolf of Sherrik emblazoned underneath the wrappings and the Guild is not wont to simply pass out its weapons freely.”

It took a moment for Kalya to get her bearings again, shaking her head slightly in an attempt to clear it. “I found it,” she managed to gasp out. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

With a snarl, the man retreated from the cell, the sounds of his angry footsteps ringing through the corridor outside her door for a long time until it completely faded away. Leaning back heavily into the wall, Kalya closed her eyes during the moment of reprieve and wished she’d thought before using the dagger several days ago. It had been in the heat of the moment, of course, and she’d ended up saving a man’s life but perhaps not entirely worth it in the long run.

Certainly if she could go back, she never would have had someone else clean the blood from the dagger, knowing now that the hilt wrappings had been ruined. All it had taken was one glimpse of the wolf engraved into the metal underneath the worn leather and the two information seeking members of Konda Suon had been at her door.

And, of course, given the general nature of the Orders, they hadn’t asked nicely.

Now she was a ‘guest’ of their hospitality, for something little more than owning a dagger that she shouldn’t have. Of course, should they guess at the actual age of the dagger…

Sighing, Kalya tried to shift enough to ease the ache along her shoulders and back but no amount of moving with her arms chained over her head would do the trick. In the end she just drew her legs up and as close to her chest as she could, wondering if she would ever see the outside world again.

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