Rumour Has It

Twas with great haste that Mirage scuttled her way to the Vigil. While she'd taken up residence and occupation with the Aerial Protectorate at Soldier's Peak, it did not mean she was without eyes and ears beyond that place. Word had come from her feathered friends a familiar witch had returned to Amaranthine. Or been returned.

A delight, to be certain, a gift to mock her dearest baby sister. It had, after all, been entirely too long since she'd reminded Morrigan what a disappointment she was.

The trouble, however, was the blue witch did not know where she could find dearest Morrigan. And so she went about, poking a canine nose in and out of various locations until she spotted something most fascinating...

Echo glared at her mother, stomping her foot. A nearby warden turned into a frog, and that's the scene that Mirage walked in on. Her sister, sitting on the ground, on her knees, trying to reach with an upset child.

You cannot keep turning people into animals, Echo. It's not a good use of that magic. She insisted, narrowing her eyes at the child. The girl screeched in her mother's face, and a rush of magic would burst from the little person.

The only reason Mirage didn't turn into anything was because she had the magic to block it. Morrigan pinched the bridge of her nose. You're wasting magic that is not even yours! You cannot have a cookie for dinner. Your father will be home any moment now.

She wished she'd left Loghain home with the girl instead of staying herself. He might've had more luck... or she'd have come home to him hopping around as a frog.

Such the power for a mere child. Mirage went from watching the poor hopping warden to leveling her gaze to her sister. Lips peeled back off fangs into a canine grin.

Taking but a few more steps closer, she seated herself and watched with a tilted head. Her sister trying to reason with a brat. Such a waste. So little learned from their mother.

You learned nothing from mother, I see. She let out a wheezing laugh. Or me. I prefer to let the animals raise mine.

Rolling her shoulders, Mirage allowed her shifted warg form to drop, rising from a crouch now in her own skin. Shaking her long, blue hair out, she smirked at Morrigan.

How'd this come about, then, dear sister? she asked, flicking a finger at the child.

Morrigan scoffed at her sister. Price of a ritual. She stated, crossing her arms as she glared across the child's head to Mirage. In front of them, Echo stared between the two women, and smacked her hands together. Magic sparked from the contact, and Morrigan gave a heavy sigh, settling in front of the child.

I do not negotiate. She narrowed her eyes at the child. Sit in silence, little magician. She forcibly sat the child at a chair, and brushed her hands off, staring at Mirage.

Do you need something or are you here to gawk? Perhaps you want to babysit? She raised an eyebrow.

Mirage let out a snorting laugh. Really? Tch, you should always acquaint yourself with the price first. Was... she trailed off, counting in her head. How many are you up to now? Are they not all enough for you? In one singular way that Mirage could think of, Morrigan might make their mother proud: the number of children she collected in one way or another.

What do you call it? She'd not really caught the name upon her entrance. Too amused at the scenario at hand to have paid attention to specific words. After all, she'd not engaged in conversation yet and merely watching was far more entertaining at times.

Looking past Morrigan, Mirage flashed a smirk at the child. Wild and unruly, like they'd all been once upon a time. Her attention focused back on her sister, and she gave her the same smirk. Though perhaps this one was a bit more smug. Need something from you? I could never. She teased, laughing.

Like I said, I don't do children. She waved one hand a bit as she spoke. They're messy, gross, and utterly useless at this age.

It calls itself Echo. She gave a mirthful chuckle. The price was not the child, dear sister. My magic, though... another story. She gestured at the child, as if that explained everything. It is uncertain if she will disappear, should the price be deemed paid in full, an avatar of magic... Another shrug.

Until then, I manage her. She leaned to study the child, peering into eyes that matched her own. Perhaps I should leave her on Mother's shrine... Flemeth had a shrine out in the Wilds; far from the cabin and the Chasind settlements. Chasind people sometimes visited, leaving gifts, leaving children... though that was rarer now.

And, what? She'll magically regain her body and take care of it? Mirage snorted. Delusional as ever, sister. Her gaze drifted irregularly between the two. A light curiosity bubbling over the reason for it. What ritual bore such a hefty price?

It must be worth it, to get this sniveling thing as part of your price. She gestured to the child.

Morrigan stared at the child, and rolled her shoulders in a shrug. Loghain... was worth it. Yes. I do not regret my decision.


Now, count to ten and you can get up and play until dinner. She addressed the child, as if she'd listen. She was as unruly as the magic that was not hers.