The remaining tissue of the lanky, tree-like demon hissed and boiled, dissolving from the commander's silverite blade and leaving only a small oozy fleshy pod behind.
Maker, what a tough bastard.
Commander Cullen Rutherford pulled his sword out of the mudded snow and straightened up to assess the battlefield. There were no more signs of demons. The fight was over - for now. But his men were exhausted; bent over and sprawled out on the ground, moaning, breathing heavily and coughing and laughing out of shock and horror over what they've just faced. Cullen sighed. These men were still a long way from the hardened templar troops he used to command back in Kirkwall. They were mostly commoners, challenging their own bravery, drawing strength from their faith in the Maker and a hope for a better life and a safe future for their families.
Cullen knew that he could build a strong army to serve the Inquisition, so long as its support and reputation continued to grow. A peace summit had already been underway, a conclave hosted by Divine Justinia V, uniting representatives of the Imperial Chantry, the former Circles of Magi and the Templar Order under the roof of the Temple of Sacred Ashes in the hope of finding a common ground between those factions and bringing an end to the ongoing slaughter all over Thedas.
The explosion of the Conclave had shattered any fragile prospect of peace in an instant. Cullen had witnessed it en route from Denerim to Haven, returning to the Inquisition's base with a delegation of new agents and recruits. The blast thundered over the Frostback Mountains, reverberating across the land and sent a huge glowing current high up to the sky. A giant breach had formed above the Valley of Sacred Ashes - a menacing, growing hole screaming the end of the world and threatening to swallow it. To Cullen, it was the blow-up of Kirkwall's Chantry re-enacted, only to a much more frightening extent.
Smaller Fade rifts kept materialising on the surface, spewing out wraiths and demons. Cullen's men fought them to their best ability, but sadly, there was only so much the reputation and experience of the Inquisition's former templars could do to keep up morale. And now, of all times, people were desperate for hope. Hope that the Inquisition was equally eager to deliver, but it needed the prospect of hope. A miracle.
Cullen prayed that Leliana was right; that this mage - of course it had to be a mage - who fell out of the original rift could be coaxed into delivering an explanation to it all.
"Good work, soldiers.", Cullen praised. "Thibault, see that this pod gets to researcher Minaeve. Maker knows she can help us build some resistance against those things." The recruit saluted in affirmation. A man in Kirkwall's templar regalia and an inquisition's cloak approached.
"Lieutenant Raleigh.", Cullen greeted. "Report."
"Five casualties, eight wounded, ser. Healing supplies are at about a quarter."
Cullen squinted. He hated losing good men. "Secure the area, let them take a rest. We'll be moving as soon as the prisoner arrives."
"Yes, commander."
"Even sooner, Cullen.", a soft and melodic voice exclaimed. A rare sight greeted the commander as he turned on his heel: the Inquisition's spymaster and Left Hand of the Divine, was, in fact, smiling.
"Leliana."
"She did it. The prisoner has the power to seal the rifts!"
"Then she will help willingly?" He glanced around Leliana, who nodded curtly. His face grew stern. "Where is she?"
"Cassandra is taking her up the mountain path to the temple-"
"The mountain path? No, that can't be right. That would take far too long. Cassandra would never agree to-"
"The prisoner insisted. She said she didn't want to risk sacrificing more lives if she could help it."
Cullen scoffed. "And do you honestly believe that? For all we know she could be possessed. If she did cause that breach I fear not even Cassandra might be able to withstand her power." He shook his head. " And we still haven't heard a word from Hammond's men!"
"The mage has not been what I expected so far, Cullen. I trust her. You know I wouldn't say that lightly. The girl is frightened but determined. I think she genuinely wants to help."
Cullen sighed in resignation. Not that he could do much about it. "What of her mark? Is it stable enough? Will she make the journey?"
"No doubt. She is weakened but it's not critical yet. I have received a message from Josephine, she requires your immediate presence. Chancellor Roderick is losing patience and wants the Inquisition evicted. He's growing desperate because Cassandra wouldn't bend to his will to send her to Val Royeaux. Also, I believe it unnerved him that Cassandra untied her."
"She untied the mage? Oh, Maker!" Cullen's templar senses tingled at once. A fraction of a moment later, a slow deep thrumming was sending a chill down his spine.
"Andraste's tits!", someone called out, "That's a new rift!"
"All right. First we deal with this rift. Leliana, you will take Raleigh and the troops to the temple while I return to Haven with the wounded and deal with Roderick." He turned to his lieutenant. "I need you to bring them all back safe."
Raleigh saluted. "Of course, commander."
Cullen turned towards the new rift and pulled his sword, catching the attention of all of his soldiers "To arms!", he bellowed.
.
"Commander, the troops are returning!" An excited recruit was panting hard at the door to the general's tent outside the village.
Instantaneously, Cullen had the young man's full attention. "What's the status?"
"Lieutenant Raleigh is holding up the banner. I spotted lieutenant Hammond too, but there's no sign of the Seeker."
"Impossible." Cullen motioned to his second-in-command to continue skimming through reports and mark the locations of newly emerged Fade rifts on the map.
The marching sound grew louder as Cullen approached the smithy; the returning party must have already made it across the Penitent's Crossing. As the party of soldiers emerged shortly from behind the rocky slope, Cullen blinked. It was indeed his lieutenant leading the men, and not Lady Cassandra.
Never before had The Right Hand of the Divine abandoned her position at the front of the troops - the All-Seeing Eye of her order shining brightly across her chest piece and turning her into a manifestation of the omnipresence of the Divine will.
Before Cullen could jump to conclusions, lieutenant Raleigh proudly lifted the banner, beaming with pride. "The rift at the Temple has been sealed.", he announced, reaching his commander. "Seeker Cassandra wished to remain at the prisoner's side. They're at the back, near the supply wagons."
"Good work, lieutenant!" Cullen's soldiers straightened visibly with pride as they passed by their general, their exhaustion palpable beneath a state of elated incredulousness. This was the first good news since the Inquisition's arrival in Haven, a faint chance to prevent the end of the world.
When Cullen finally spotted Cassandra, it surprised him to find her usually cold and menacing expression a little relaxed. In fact, by her standards, and all tragic circumstances considered, she seemed rather pleased.
"Commander.", she greeted, striding towards him. "Our survivor could be the key. There is yet hope."
Survivor, she said. Not prisoner.
Cassandra's ruthlessness was legendary. As the Right Hand of the Divine she was practically untouchable. She did not tolerate any disrespect of the Chantry laws and codex and was often sent to re-educate the most stubborn charges by any means she deemed necessary. She branded mages - and, tavern tales have it, even templars - with a shocking efficiency. Inhuman is what the commoners called her; 'the Tranquil Hand' is what the Order had dubbed her in secret. Cassandra could be a monster - but not without a mind of her own. That much Cullen knew. She didn't think twice before denouncing the devious beliefs which conflicted with her own moral conviction. For all he knew, openly standing up to Lord Seeker Lambert could not have been easy on her. For that alone she had gained the commander's utmost respect.
The commander carefully scanned the soldiers for a glimpse of the mage - in vain. "So… she lives?"
"Barely." Cassandra pointed at a covered supply wagon pulled by a horse behind her. "Maker knows she will pull through."
"She has absorbed an enormous blast from the rift.", an uncharacteristically tall, bald elf explained. Despite his oddly plain attire, he carried himself with a grace and dignity and a unique sense of self - a trait seldom found among his kinsmen. This had to be the elven apostate Leliana mentioned in her report. "She passed out right after she sealed it. I believe the mark on her hand stopped growing for the time being, but it is still pulsating and sending shock waves through her body. In any event, she needs to see a healer - quickly. The chances of her recovery are dwindling by the hour."
"You must be Solas."
"I am. Pleased to make your acquaintance, commander.", he nodded politely. "I hope my studies of the Fade will help determine the nature of the threat and find a way to oppose it."
Just as Cullen expressed his welcome, a young elven girl nearly toppled Solas over in her haste to reach the seeker. Finding her balance, she bowed low in shame. "Forgive me, ser. Lady Cassandra. Master Adan is now ready to receive the lady mage in Ser Balin's house.", she squeaked. "Lady Leliana has sent for a healer in Redcliffe. She is also determining the lady mage's identity. Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?"
"Thank you, Suri. Assist Master Adan and keep me updated on any progress." Cassandra handed her a few coins and ordered the carter to pull into the stables.
The idea of harbouring a mage without identity did not thrill Cullen at all. Stepping closer to the wagon and focusing his attention on the traces of dormant magic inside, his astute templar senses jolted at once. Irregular shockwaves of an alien, albeit not necessarily threatening force were shooting through the prisoner's body, single shocks colliding and short-circuiting. But there was more. Behind that thick veil of complete chaos, Cullen could sense a faint thrumming aura. Infinitely weaker but steady. It was surprisingly clean. Untainted. Resilient. She was harrowed, Cullen concluded. A Circle mage? This notion calmed him, somewhat.
Cassandra began untying the fastenings of the wagon cover.
"Do you believe her responsible for the explosion?", Cullen wondered.
The seeker stood and sighed, allowing Solas to take over. "Truthfully, no. There was a vision pouring out of the rift at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Most Holy called out to her. She urged her to run and warn us all."
Solas sat down next to the unconscious mage and held up her hand, inspecting the mark that basked her in an unnatural yellowish-green light. Intrigued, Cullen took a step forward.
She was clad in simple mercenary gear: an oversized coat was creating bulges from underneath a pair of basic iron pauldrons and long gauntlets. Her rough boots were well-worn but kept in good condition. As the glow of the mark subsided, Cullen found himself surprised at how little her features matched her attire. High cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips and hair that evidently used to be kept together in an accurate bun - now fringy and slightly damp - suggested an aristocratic upbringing. As did her hands - indeed not a labourer's hands. The apostate looked frail and displaced; a long way even from an enchanter let alone a powerful mage potentially capable of meddling in magic that reached beyond this world.
"I saw that vision with my own eyes, Cullen. I would not have believed it otherwise.", Cassandra explained. "Our soldiers reported they saw a glowing woman remain behind as she fell out of the sky."
"And they also believe that to have been Andraste herself.", a deep, soothing voice declared.
"Varric." Cullen was mildly surprised. "The last I heard you were free to take your leave?"
"He most certainly still is.", Cassandra glared at the dwarf.
"Oh, please. There are shitloads of holes in the sky spitting out evil demony things and I happen to be in the thick of the investigation? Not a chance I would let you face them alone? Or Snowflake for that matter." He nodded towards the unconscious mage. "No offence, seeker, but the whole lot of you do have a slightly intimidating way about yourselves. If she can truly help the Inquisition, her burden will be big enough without you pushing and poking her, believe me. She'll need a friend."
Cassandra groaned in reply, defeated.
"Snowflake?", Cullen wondered.
"That's what snowflakes do, right? Fall from the sky, look pretty, freeze things. Andraste's ass, you should have seen how she froze those demons! Bianca was absolutely-" He glanced past Cullen, "Oh, shit!"
"Cassandra! Hold her down!", Solas cried out. The mage was yet again enveloped in the green glow, her muscles contracting forcibly. The seeker rushed to her side and pinned her shoulders down into the blanket.
Instinctively, Cullen's hand snapped to the grip of his sword, his templar reflexes primed to cast a holy smite.
The elf clutched the mage's palm with one hand and pressed the other into her abdomen, casting what appeared to be a cleansing spell.
Reacting quickly, Varric reached out to stop the commander, who had already frozen in mid-action, understanding. The risk of possibly dealing collateral damage with a draining Templar spell when unknown magic was involved was simply too high.
Solas was now enveloped in the same glow as the young woman, willing his own magic to flow uninterrupted into the woman while evidently fighting to withstand the alien force he was absorbing himself.
"Relax, Curly. This has already happened a few times. Solas knows what he's doing."
After a long moment, the mage finally gasped for air, the spasming slowly subsiding. Evidently still unconscious, she fell back into shallow breathing, as if nothing happened. Solas let the healing spell flow a while longer until he dared take a deep breath.
"She has taken it better this time.", he exhaled, looking up at Cassandra. Beads of sweat were glistening on his scalp.
She nodded, casting an almost concerned glance at the mage. "Let's get her to Adan."
"Let me, Cassandra.", Cullen offered on instinct, as the seeker lifted the apostate's arm around her shoulder to stem her up but she lifted her hand in dismissal.
"I appreciate the help but she is still my charge, Cullen. Chancellor Roderick is convinced that she created the breach. He wants her executed. So long as I am the only one in this village with a full immunity to magic, we shouldn't give him any reason to question the integrity of any other member of the Inquisition. Until she wakes up and we decide on how to proceed, Solas and myself should be the only ones in contact with her."
"Agreed. I will see to stationing a patrol around Balin's house in the mean time. Keep me updated."
"Well then. If I'm not needed you'll probably find me in the tavern.", Varric shrugged and turned. "I hope Haven has got one."
Cullen watched Cassandra and Solas carefully lift up the mage and carry her through the village gates. He couldn't help but be impressed by how warmly the seeker responded to the young woman, who yet remained an unknown entity to them all. The extraordinary amount of trust Cassandra put in her protégé had to stem from a higher conviction. Having witnessed too many of his friends at Kinloch Hold fall victim to these so-called visions, he treated the mention of this particular one, that poured directly from the Fade, with utmost caution. The fact remained, several small rifts were sealed and gone, and that was more than a shimmer of hope. If this mage yet had a chance of surviving Cullen would make sure that she would get it.
Halfway to his tent, Cullen encountered lieutenant Raleigh. "Beg your pardon, ser. I've got a list of the fallen soldiers."
The commander accepted the parchment, skimming through it on the way. Twenty-nine names. Eager soldiers, who committed their swords to helping fight chaos and restore order. Souls, fallen to demons under the banner of the All-Seeing Eye and under his own command. The loss of twenty-nine men was sure to hit the tiny village very hard and place the young inquisition in a delicate position.
So long as the Sunburst Throne remained empty, High Chancellor Roderick's claims on authority in Haven were baseless. However, as High Chancellor, his reach did extend to high places in Orlais, enabling him to call upon his associates to help him rise to power. His sudden ascent to a temporary Chantry Father through the untimely death of his superiors left him eager to expand on this newfound position. The idea of a good mage - the only one wielding the power to command the rifts and pledging her service to the Inquisition could easily be turned around into a tale of an abomination appeasing its captors while destroying human lives from within. The common villager's faith was a fickle thing and the power of the Chant not to be underestimated. The inquisition needed to act accordingly. Pre-emptively, and very quickly.
Cullen stopped with a realisation. Perhaps it was a very fortunate thing after all that Garrett Hawke's storyteller friend decided to remain with the Inquisition. He was about to go search for the dwarf in the tavern when he spotted him by the forge.
Varric Tethras had been a well-known figure long before his association with the Champion of Kirkwall helped him surpass his popularity and vault him into the realm of rather well-respected authors. Yet he remained down-to-earth and approachable; and his spontaneous tavern and banquet story-times were legendary among commoners, soldiers, merchants and nobles alike.
The dwarf was humming a tune while skimming through Harritt's weapon schematics as Cullen strode over.
"Daggers? I don't think I've ever seen you use anything but your crossbow in a fight, Varric."
"Oh, I don't. Wouldn't want Bianca to get the wrong idea. But… being away from Kirkwall doesn't mean I necessarily get to be away from the Carta as well - so I'm getting a look at their newest designs. Harritt is well-connected. Or, maybe it's Leliana, and he's just taking credit. Which seems more likely. But I'm sure you didn't come over to discuss blades. What can I do for you, commander?"
They stepped out of the smithy, walking towards the sparring ground. "Tell me again about the rumours you heard from our soldiers? That our mage was sent to us by Andraste?"
"Well, that's what they said, or at least something along those lines. Do you want the facts or my manuscript version?"
Cullen smirked. "Facts, for now. What happened, exactly?"
"So we get to the ruins of the temple and there's this vision pouring out of a sealed rift. There's snowflake wondering out loud what's going on and Justinia tells her to run while she can and warn us. This is, in case you've wondered, the moment the seeker's world gets turned upside down. And not only her, I'm sure. In any event she is able to use the power of the mark, whatever it is, to reopen and seal the tear in the sky. And when we pick her up and put her in the wagon there is a group of soldiers gathering around us."
Varric stopped abruptly. "Seriously, Curly, you should have seen the seeker's face! Those guys weren't doing anything wrong, just looking, being curious! Imagine Cassandra looking irate, confused and embarrassed at the same time, I swear I've never seen anything like it! It was almost adorable!"
Cullen chuckled a little despite himself. The description of that alone was priceless.
"And Cassandra barks at this one soldier, 'What is this about?' The poor guy is so intimidated he loses his voice until another one explains, 'We wanted to see the Chosen One with our own eyes. We saw her fall out of the sky when she did. She was touched and sent to us by Andraste."
This was good. So much more than Cullen had dared hope for. "And did they talk about it any more?"
"Couldn't keep their mouths shut! All the way from the temple. Snowflake is getting herself quite a reputation. I really hope she gets to wake and see it." He sounded concerned.
"So do we all. But for now, we must see to it that this story reaches all of Haven. Given your special… oratory talents, may I ask you to help see to that?"
Varric raised a slow eyebrow, then broke into a grin. "It would be my pleasure, commander. Although I must say I never would have pegged you for a rumourmonger. Encouraging my corrupting the virginal minds of innocent townspeople with … gossip? My, my!…"
Cullen's face hardened. "We need all the advantage we can get. Roderick will not play nice. All we know is that he may already have sent for troops to bring the apostate in to Val Royeaux. Right now, and before we know more, the Inquisition must protect her!" Cullen shook his head. "I grew up in a town like this, I know these people, I know their kind. They don't have much but they do have their faith, and they do believe. They need a miracle, a sign from the Maker to believe that this thing up there will not remain there forever. And they should have it: a messenger sent by Andraste, in the flesh, as real as the sun in the sky and their crops they grow. The Inquisition needs these people's faith."
The dwarf sighed in resignation, his tone growing uncharacteristically serious. "I know what's at stake here, commander. I just dared hope for a second that you may have picked up a slight sense of humour somewhere between Kirkwall and here. I'll go work my magic."
Cullen frowned, watching Varric leave. "Thank you.", he said, watching the dwarf nod from behind. Cullen took a deep breath and continued on his way to his tent. It was high time to assign a patrol for the apostate.
The mage had better survived.
Haven't written any fanfics in a VERY long time, so sorry if this kicks off a little slow and weighty - I needed to remind myself of the facts of the in-game stuff to merge it with my head canon. Yadda yadda. Will be picking up the pace from now on.
Now, next chapter: Wakey-wakey, Trev! You've slept enough now. No fun writing about you when you're not even listening!
Thanks for reading and your time! -rc xx