Across the Veil

Chapter 1: A Door that Won't Close

A/N: Though this is an OC piece, it is not a self-insert. It's intended to be a comedic fish out of water drama and a exploration in the meeting of the real world with the world of DA. As such, sore lore has been adapted, interpreted or changed in order to fit the narrative of the story, though the rest should remain as accurate to canon as possible.


Chains rattled every time she breathed. That was the only thought in Amy's head. There was no fear regarding the presence of chains, discomfort at the rattling or relief that—at the very least—she did breathe. There was nothing, save for that one simple and indifferent observation. She was not mentally prepared to deal with any of those reactions just yet. Her emotions had not caught up with her, leaving just the shock. Her eyes finally opened, though it almost seemed as though they hadn't. The change was not much given the darkness of the room. It was nearly impossible to see her hands directly in front of her face. That was not an exaggeration; she tried. It was then that her hand exploded into both pain and a bright green light. The sudden light was enough to blind her, but she could not register the pain in her eyes while the pain stabbing into her hand demanded to be felt. Just as quickly as it had flashed, the light died down again, but she could not look right away. She could barely even focus enough to realize that her hand was now illuminating the stone floor and dimly to the stone walls around her. There was a faint mark glowing on it, much like a tattoo.

It was the chains she focused on first when she finally did focus. Experimentally she pulled at them lightly, but they held as fast as she would have expected, nothing new to learn there. What she had not expected was the sound of metal coming from in front of her. It was a fairly quiet and smooth sound, but it was almost unmistakable as a blade being pulled from a sheath. In the dark she hadn't noticed anyone else in the room, but the with the now faint green glow from her hand, Amy could make out vague figures by what she assumed to be a doorway. Ones that she was guessing might be none too friendly given the very light metal glint she could see near the waist of one. Still, people were people—as terrible as they could be—and what she needed above all else right now was answers.

"Where a—." Of course answers were hard to come by when she couldn't even finish her question in her weak voice before the door burst loudly open. Silhouetted from the light through the door was the figure of a woman, one that appeared to be decked out in medieval style armor and with a sword very clearly hanging from her belt. The sight somehow wasn't as jarring as it should have been, likely because of how much the rest of the place had the same vibe to it; something Amy had only dimly registered herself. Nothing about the place held even the barest hint of modernity. In fact, rather than think the woman in front of her was odd, Amy found herself feeling like she was the one out of place. Eventually the woman strode over, appearing to circle around Amy, though with how she was tied up Amy couldn't always track her movements. Thus she jumped when suddenly a low voice appeared at her ear from behind.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now." Not a promising opening, though Amy wasn't exactly sure what she'd been expecting. In the kind of environment she'd found herself in, it was impossible to expect warmth or comfort from such an exchange. Clearly she was a prisoner, that much had already been obvious, all she couldn't figure out was why. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone is dead… except for you." There was something very familiar in the woman's tone, a common trait that Amy had heard time and time again: accusation. It was painfully clear what the implications of the words were. If Amy had learned anything in her time living, it had been to never give accusers even more ammunition to attack you in such situations. Thus, Amy was silent.

"Explain this," the woman continued, reaching down roughly to grab Amy's left hand where the mark flared up again in another painful flash of bright green light. Cringing and gasping, it took a long moment before Amy was able to say anything at all. Patience didn't seem to be a very strong trait in her accuser either which had Amy focused on her and not even noticing that another woman—a much quieter redhead—had also entered and was watching her response.

"I can't," Amy cried out when it seemed like the question was going to be repeated. "I-I don't… I don't know what it is. I don't know what's going on." It was true both about the mark on her hand and the entire rest of the situation she'd somehow landed herself in.

"What do you remember?" piped up the other woman, Amy's head whipping around as she finally realized the woman was even there.

"I remember running, trying to escape and… a woman." The memories were scattered and confused at best.

"You are lying!" the first woman barked out, taking a threatening step forward with one hand going to her sword almost instinctively. Amy wouldn't have been surprised to discover that she really did know how to use it. Almost immediately the other woman—with a hand pushing into the warrior's shoulder—stopped her.

"We need her, Cassandra." For her part, Amy was surprised to see how quickly Cassandra seemed to back off from her threatening stance in response to the words, if reluctantly. It was too much to process all at once and by the time she'd even really caught up with everything that had happened thus far, she was being pulled to a stand by Cassandra who then led her out of what quickly Amy realized was an actual dungeon. Part of her had assumed this whole time that it was all some kind of strange play pretend or LARP event that she'd stumbled into without realizing it, but as they exited the dungeon and stepped out into the rest of the building and later the town, not one hint of anything modern appeared. They were either a bit too good at covering it up, or this was real.

It was hard for her to even assume that this was some kind of dream, as Amy doubted even with all her creativity, she would have come up with half the things that Cassandra was telling her. Conclaves, Divines… a green hole in the sky, no, none of it was something she would have come up with. Mostly Amy was doing her best to keep up with the words and trying to make mental notes of things she didn't understand. Given that she was still in chains and dealing with someone who seemed a little too eager to kill her before, Amy doubted that asking a lot of questions would go over well. Even once the chains had been removed, Amy found herself hesitating on asking much of anything. Especially not questions when it seemed like she ought to have already known the answers. Much like being thrown into a play without ever seeing your lines, she could only fumble her way through understanding concepts she'd never once heard before. There was only one part of everything Cassandra said that Amy felt like it was incredibly important to focus on for the moment anyway.

"Every time the Breach expands, your mark grows. And it's killing you." Without the burning pain that spread from her hand to the rest of her body, Amy might have thought that was an exaggeration, but it really felt like death. Whatever it was on her hand, Amy could believe that it would be the death of her. She also believed that she'd do anything she had to in order to see that it wouldn't be.

"What do I need to do?" Amy was a little surprised how much hope the words brought to Cassandra's face. She supposed she might have not been listening as closely as she should have been. Though Amy heard all the words, she hadn't listened to the tone which was where she would have understood that even if the mark was only killing Amy, the rest of them needed her to find a solution just as much. They were all in danger, though Amy could not have fully understood. No matter how many times Cassandra spoke about demons as they moved to the forward camp, the concept was a mystery—an abstract—for Amy. It had never occurred to her that they might be physical demons… at least not until they heard the sounds of battle and Cassandra raced forward to jump into the fray of people and what Amy could have only described as monsters.

Black and terrifying were perhaps the first words that might have come to mind, but both fell far short of what the creatures were and misconstrued them incredibly. Looking at them, they didn't so much look black as they looked like creatures who were constructed from a complete void of color itself. Black in it's own way could be comforting at times; these things never could be. They really did take her breath away, causing her body to all but lock up at the sight. This did not bode well for her, especially as one more seemed to be crawling its way out of the strange green light hovering above them. While everyone else was focused on fighting the monstrosities, the thing clawed out first one demonic hand and then another before it pulled itself completely free of the strange green tear and fell to the ground. It was not stopped for more than a second by the long fall before it looked around and—to her immeasurable horror—locked its targets on her. She wasn't sure how the thing saw her at all as when it looked at her, Amy could clearly see that rather than eyes, it felt like looking into the void. Even the way it moved was disconcerting as it seemed to float along the ground in short bursts of speed, making Amy scream as it approached.

At first she'd tried to back away, but Amy had not made it more than a couple of steps before her foot caught on something and she was falling backwards. Somehow the situation was made even more horrible by the fact that the thing she'd been caught on was the leg of a dead soldier, one with his body torn up in the most horrific way. That would be her fate too, Amy was sure. Forget the Breach killing her, she wouldn't live that long. Flight was no longer an option for her as the creature scooted closer and so her hands dug into the body beneath her as she prepared herself. At least they did until she felt a stinging pain in her right hand and looked down at it to find that she'd dropped the palm onto a dagger resting at the man's side. Without a single thought, Amy moved her hand down to grip the blade at the handle. It was only a few inches long and definitely not something one would consider deadly against such a terrifying monster—particularly in her hands—but it was something. When the creature had reached her, she lashed the blade out, eyes closing and another scream pulled itself from her lips.

With a horrifying cry of agony, the thing reared back from her and she watched in both shock and amazement as the demon dematerialized in front of her, the pieces of it seeming to be drawn back through the small tear in the sky above them. Dumbfounded, Amy looked down at the dagger in her hand, still outstretched, but she didn't feel like she'd ever felt it touch the creature. It certainly had not been as difficult as she would have thought. Looking from the dagger back up again, she noticed a short man reloading a crossbow. He shot her a grin and a wink before turning back to the last demon left around them. So… it hadn't been her who killed it then? In all honesty, Amy wasn't sure if she was disappointed or comforted by that fact. Slowly she stood again, the dagger still held firmly in her right hand, without Amy even realizing it.

"Quickly," came a cry as her left hand was grabbed, though Amy didn't have the presence of mind to do anything about it other than relent as it was raised up to point her palm at the sky. "Before more come through." Amy had no clue what the man holding her hand thought might happen if she just pointed at the sky. Did he think she'd be able to close it through wishing alone? For some reason Amy found herself envisioning what that might look like and… suddenly something was happening. It wasn't painful as had happened every other time her mark had glowed, but instead it just… tingled. Amy couldn't have explained it any other way. It felt like her whole body was supercharged with energy which then exploded out as the tear in the sky slammed shut. Once it was done, she all but tore her hand from the man's grasp in shock, though he didn't look as though he minded.

"What…?" Though she'd been conscious for nearly two hours, it seemed as though Amy was no closer to forming full and coherent sentences than she had been when she'd woken up in chains and accused of crimes she still didn't understand. It seemed like every time she was even close to accepting this world and coming to terms with the parts of it that were completely foreign to her, something else happened to shake everything she even thought she knew.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky, also placed that mark upon your hand," the man—who had some of the strangest ears Amy had ever seen, she noted to herself—said, causing Amy to look between him and her hand a few times as she tried to keep up with what he was telling her. He had more to say, but only one word of it all really stood out to Amy and she found herself repeating it without thinking about her situation.

"Magic?" Though it was a question for confirmation, something about Amy's tone belied her exhaustion at everything that had come up and something akin to amusement. She supposed it was that of course there would be magic here, she couldn't believe that she hadn't seen that coming. The concept of magic in this world meant that nothing had to make sense or follow the same laws as her own world, didn't it? After all, there were many interpretations of magic, but from what she had seen, it would take some getting used to.

"Yes, magic," the man repeated, though seeming a bit less pleasant than he had been before. Something about her tone and expression seemed to have him pulling back. He'd seemed open and curious before, but suddenly he was much more guarded. "Nothing else could have had the power to open the Breach." At the second mention, Amy looked up to the sky, realizing just how much closer to it they were. She shifted her gaze back to him, but he seemed to be eying her suspiciously.

"Whatever caused it, I'm just happy to hear that we can close these things. And here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," intoned a voice from behind her, and Amy turned to see the short man who'd saved her before. Perhaps it was from that or from his tone, but something about him gave her a lighter impression and she felt as though she could almost smile while looking at him. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." His introduction actually did bring a smile from her.

"Amy Spivey… mostly just unwelcome tagalong," she responded back to him, with a chuckle. To her credit, Amy did turn to make sure that it didn't appear that she was only introducing herself to Varric and let the others know she wanted to be friendly—or at least civil—with the two of them as well, as much as that seemed difficult. Cassandra was giving her a strongly appraising look and the other man appeared still to be on his guard.

"I am Solas, if there are to be introductions." He was gracious enough for that and Amy relented to give him a bit of a smile as well and politely say that it was good to meet him, whether or not she was fully sure it was. Nothing against Solas, but she would have much rather been home in bed than to have met any of them. No dream would have lasted this long or have been this painful. Had it been a dream, she would have woken up when the first scream had left her lips. It was long since past the time that she would have woken up and this world seemed no closer to leaving.

"So you both work with… Cassandra?" Amy asked, though turning back to focus more on Varric. A laugh came from both men and a scoff from Cassandra. Amy wanted to cringe as she realized her question might have been an obvious one which wasn't making her seem any more normal, but she gave a weak smile as she tried to push passed it.

"Was that a serious question?" Solas asked, though from the corner of her eye he didn't seem quite as standoffish as he had after she'd questioned magic. That was a positive, right?

"Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you," Varric informed her, and between a back and forth with Cassandra, Amy realized that their explanation left her no closer to figuring out what was really going on here and rather left her with more questions. Solas's explanation that he was an apostate was no less confusing itself and thus Amy nodded and chose to let things lie. Now was not the time to try and really dig deep into history and culture that she had no starting basis for, especially not with a time crunch to save her life. First she'd worry about not immediately dying, then she'd get the lay of the land.

Solas and Varric joined them as they continued through the valley—Amy staying very pointedly in the back whenever demons appeared, though she still had not let go of the dagger she held. The mark on her hand seemed to be growing larger faster than ever and the four of them were doing their best to hurry. It seemed like another hour before they finally reached another of what were apparently being called rifts. As before she'd hung back and did more running from demons than fighting, but at least once they'd all been killed she was able to stretch her hand up to the rift as Solas had showed her before and cleared her mind to think of nothing but envisioning the rift closing. Once again, it did. If she was being honest with herself, Amy was feeling pretty high and mighty about herself after that, as they'd jogged up to what she could only assume was the command center for the attack they were waging on the demons. That feeling did not last long.

"She should be taken to Val Royeaux to be tried by whoever becomes Divine," a man in a robe demanded, bringing Amy's attention back to the argument that had only half her attention. At this point she'd nearly forgotten that she was in many respects still a prisoner and still could face the very real options of jail or—as she was starting to realize was a strong possibility—even execution. There was some relief in the fact that her three companions and Leliana—the redhead from before—seemed to be sticking up for her. It was not enough for her to feel entirely comfortable, but it was something. At this point, something was better than nothing.

"Well, which do you think we should take?" Cassandra asked and it took Amy a moment to realize that the question was being asked of her. Amy blinked at Cassandra for a moment.

"What?" she answered instinctually, though after playing back the conversation in her head, she realized that they were asking which of the two paths they should fight through. The idea that they expected Amy to make a military decision was perhaps the strangest thing to happen today. "You're asking me?" Cassandra was none too thrilled with the question and reaffirmed that yes, they wanted her to be the tie breaker. Amy shook her head. "You realize I have no experience in… military planning, right? Are you sure you want me to pick?" After a quick back and forth, it became clear that Amy likely wouldn't give an answer other than randomly picking between the two choices and the choice was thankfully taken away from her again. Amy had no issue with simply following the orders given to her. That was far easier than being expected to weigh the balance of so many lives in her hand and decide which was the better strategy. Ultimately it was decided that—given Amy's apparent lack of combat potential at the moment—the safer route was for the best.

Amy couldn't argue with that decision, especially as they found themselves easily reaching the crater and for the first time Amy realized that when they talked about the explosion that formed the Breach, they meant an actual real explosion. That much was quickly clear given the charred ground, the ruins of a grand building and the stench of burning flesh that filled the air. It made her gag, but she had no chance to do much other than that as she was being hurried down to the crater itself. She couldn't focus on anything else anyway as Amy knew that this was her one real shot at freedom. If she could close the rift here, then maybe they'd believe that she hadn't had anything to do with all of this. Maybe then they'd let her go. It was only a guess, but it was all she had at the moment and so Amy held onto it, feeling the pressure building the closer they got to it and even as she watched the soldiers battling the horde of demons that had been spawned. If she failed, then what? Perhaps the best case scenario would be that it killed her in the process, since she couldn't imagine that the people here would look too favorably on her should she not be able to close this rift. They were already talking imprisoning her or even execution, so this was her one shot to show that she was on their side.

Slowly, and with a deep breath, Amy reached out a hand as she had done twice before and stretched it up to the sky once the demons had all been sent back. As before the light shown from her hand and stretched to the rift… but something was different. Amy could tell that from the moment she'd directed her hand at it: something wasn't right. Rather than the strange but not unpleasant tingles she was used to feeling, her body was filled with a burst of pain. Where the other rifts had closed much with the ease of slamming a door, this one felt more like she was slamming that door but had gotten herself trapped in the middle of it. Not only would it not close, but each attempt only hurt her more for having tried. And yet… she did try. Not once, not twice, but as many times as she could. This was her one shot. She tried again. This was the only thing separating her from death by noose or by blade. She tried again. They wouldn't believe in her unless she got this to close. She tried again.

Then her body spasmed without her permission and black spots appeared before her eyes. Even still, she tried. Quickly Amy knew that she was losing the battle with consciousness, but she found that she refused to let that happen without at least first getting something done. She thrust her hand out again with more force, pain still lancing through her body, but finally she could feel something new happening. As with the other rifts, there was a kind of explosion, but rather than leaving her feeling normal or even a little charged at the end, Amy found all the strength had gone out of all of her limbs and she collapsed to the ground, completely numb to all feelings. Her consciousness was still only barely holding on, but she tried to fight the coming blackness. Voices seemed to float all around her.

"Did she…."

"What happened?"

"The demons are gone."

"Is that enough?"

"Seeker… it's still there." That voice had Amy struggling to open her eyes again as she looked up to see the rift still above her, almost taunting her in it's own way. She had failed.

"Sorry," Amy mumbled, quietly and to herself, though she wasn't sure why she was apologizing. Was it to herself for having not been strong enough and having doomed herself to a terrible fate? Or was it for the rest whom she'd also doomed to a horrible fate with her weakness. Amy didn't know, but the word pulled itself from her lips regardless as her eyelids drifted shut, and for a long time she knew nothing more.