Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, Thedas or any of the characters or concepts contained therein. I do own the character Valeria Morn and the world from which she comes - insofar as I can 'own' any fictional characters/concepts without a real legally meaningful copyright.
This is an OC!Inquisitor story - ultimately, of course, all Inquisitors are OCs, but rather than going with a standard Trevelyan/Lavellan/Cadash/Adaar Inquisitor, I'm taking a character from an original story I'm slowly working on and dropping her into Thedas as the Inquisitor. The particular details of how exactly Valeria ended up in Thedas from her world and was then in position to interfere with Corypheus's orb will be explained as they come in the story - at the start, even Valeria doesn't remember all the details herself, thanks to Nightmare sealing away the memories, as he does.
I am always open to (polite) criticism of my characterization, presentation and in general, the writing. I won't always agree with your critique, but I'll always listen, and try to take it into account where appropriate.
Thanks to GraphiteGirl and personnongrata for beta-reading this chapter.
Inquisitor-Captain
By Kylia
Chapter 1: Waking Up Chained
Cold.
That was Valeria's first sensation, as consciousness leaked back into her.
The air, the floor she was lying on, the feeling of hundreds of tiny needles prickling on the inside of her skin - all cold. The low craving for the mist had already begun. When did I last use it?
But that wasn't all that was cold - so too were the shackles around her wrist.
Shackles.
Shackles meant she was a prisoner, which meant the hard stone underneath her was the floor of a cell, presumably. Slowly, Valeria tried to sit up, to open her eyes. She didn't manage it, feeling like it was too much effort. She took several deep breaths as she continued to come back to herself.
She felt sore, all over, as if she'd run a great distance the day before, or gotten involved in a fierce unarmed fight, but the soreness was the least of her problems. There was a throbbing, but low-intensity ache in her hand, as if she'd been stabbed there, then healed.
Over and over and over again.
Perhaps it has. Members of the Karelist Inquisition did not often go up against enemies who took prisoners - except for the purpose of interrogation, extracting information. As Valeria would have never told an enemy of the Church or Crown anything they wanted to know, whoever it was that had shackled her had probably tried torture. Injury succeeded by healing was an excellent way to prolong the process.
But why just my left hand?
However, two bigger questions loomed at the forefront of her mind: how had she become a prisoner? And by whom was she held?
She thought back, trying to recall her most recent memories. To her dismay, she had no idea how she could have ended up here.
She'd been in the Inquestran borderlands, the technically still disputed borderlands between that province of the Kingdom and the Aurellian Commonwealth, leading a whole squad of Inquisitors in the arrest of a coven of renegade mages and witches known to be meddling in illegal magics, especially suspected of meddling in dimensional magics.
They'd had some sort of artifact, an ancient elven relic, and she'd been trying to disenchant it, to undo whatever the coven had done to awaken it.
And then - nothing. The next memory after that, as she made the effort to think past the constant prickling inside her skin that tried to throw off her concentration, was of green. A vast green expanse. She'd been running up stairs, a baying, slavering pack of Drakewolves behind her, a woman, reaching out her arm.
Then she woke up here.
Confusion and fear dueled in her, but despite her craving, Valeria managed to clamp down on the feelings. She was a prisoner. She she didn't know how that had come to be. If she let that fact work her into a terror, she'd be easy pickings for whatever interrogator came in to try to crack her.
She tried to open her eyes once more. This time she succeed, and pushed herself up into a kneeling position. She was in a cell far too large to have been made for holding one person, lit by several flicking torches. Arrayed around her were four men wearing breastplates, of all things. No modern army wore such armor. Certain professional mercenary outfits, ones that handled purely melee encounters, and perhaps some bodyguards, might prefer such armor.
Well, the stubborn peoples of the High Moors, might. The tribes of the Glass Desert too were limited enough to use such old tools of war, but this was not the Glass Desert, and no tribesman wore metal armor.
But this place was cold enough to be the High Moors... How could I have ended up here, then? And who there would have need of a captive Inquisitor? If here even was there.
Each guard reacted to her movements, drawing their swords in near-unison, with practiced, efficient motions. Even armed, she wouldn't relish crossing blades with these men.
But she wasn't armed, unsurprisingly. They'd even taken her longcoat, leaving her with her white shirt and pants and boots, but they'd been designed with Kantrian summers in mind, not whatever weather she was in -
PAIN!
The dull ache in her left hand suddenly awoke. Red hot lances of pain spiked up her arm, spreading throughout her body. She bit her lip against the agony of it as she looked down at her left palm. It glowed with a crackling green energy, a sort of magic she'd never seen before.
Valeria tasted blood. She let out a low groan after spitting the blood out, wiping at her lip. The pain started to subside just a touch but before she could truly appreciate that, the door to the cell burst open. Three people she didn't recognize entered. The first one barged in and came right at her.
She was a tall, striking and dark haired woman in yet another suit of breastplate - this one under a tabard emblazoned with a symbol of an eye with lines or rays, coming out of it. Valeria could not place it, leaving her with yet more questions. Taking a breath, she tried to center herself again, but this time she failed, her attention pulled away by that prickling, that low craving that only presaged something worse.
I used the mist the day before the arrest. How long has it been since then? She felt hungry, now that she realized it, but not especially thirsty.
Despite her distraction, Valeria managed to speak carefully, without wavering, though with less calm serenity than she'd have liked.
"I hope you know what you've done, imprisoning a member of the Inquisition. The Church does not look kindly on it, and even the crown isn't a fan of -"
The dark haired woman grabbed Valeria's left wrist, her grip too tight and too strong for Valeria to break free. But the words that came out of the woman's mouth - harsh, angry, half-shouted - were completely incomprehensible to her.
"I'm afraid you'll have to ask that again," Valeria replied, managing a mostly cool delivery, as she ceased pulling against the woman's grip. Whatever language that was was not only unintelligible, but completely unknown. Valeria knew Kantrian, Tessoi, and Kolkyan fluently, and spoke a smattering of a dozen others. After years of living in Kantrias, she recognized nearly every language on Bayetz, and a few from the continent of Guyas.
This was none of them.
The woman said something, again in the same language. Valeria shook her head, trying to get across with mime that she didn't understand.
"I don't understand you," this time Valeria spoke in Kolkyan, but to no avail. She tried again in Tessoi, but the woman didn't seem to understand her anymore than Valeria.
At least her efforts resulted in the armored woman saying the same words, slower and slightly more calmly, in another language. Then a third. To no effect.
Valeria shrugged. The other two stepped clearly into the full might of the torches. A redhead woman wore a hooded cloak over chainmail, no symbols or sigils on either - but she moved like someone well practiced with the long daggers at her belt. The man dressed almost like a vagabond, a long walking stick slung over his back. It was not his baldness, but his ears that drew her attention. Pointed, elongated.
An elfblood.
Valeria blinked, then looked again.
Not just pointed, not just slightly elongated.
Fully pointed, fully elongated, pulling away from the sides of his head a bit. This was no scion of humans with the blood of elves.
This was...
The impossible.
An actual, living, breathing elf before her. Despite the entire race having been vanished, presumed extinct, for centuries.
"Where in the name of the gods am I?" Valeria's throat felt tight as she tried to comprehend what was going on, where she was, as the redhead and the elf tried several more languages - each unknown, incomprehensible and completely alien.
I should recognize at least one, if I anywhere in the known world. But...
This was an elf. An Elf. No elves were known in the known world, even if they had been assumed to be native to Bayetz...
The were meddling with dimensional magics. Something that cast me through the shadow or ephemeral planes, back out here, wherever here is. Somewhere else on the world. Bayetzian civilization had only explored so much of the world, too focused on internal conflicts for most of its history. She couldn't be on Guyas, or anywhere on Kholesun that Kantrian or Iomedian explorers had been. She could be on that great western continent, far enough inland that her people were unknown, but...
If I don't know where I am, know where Bayetz is, can I even get home? Was Kantrias lost to her forever? The Church? Her fellow Inquisitors?
Kyseen.
Unbidden, her thoughts started to drift to the assassin and spy in the service of the Crown that she'd worked with and at cross purposes to on and off for years. How they'd finally started... something.
Before Valeria could ponder exactly what that meant, how she felt about -
More pain. The energy on her hand crackled again, and it ripped through her. She doubled over, managing to pull her wrist from the dark haired woman's grasp as she nearly collapsed to the ground again, unable to even attempt to hold back the small cry that escaped her lips this time. It was worse than being stabbed in the couldn't even give it words. Just -
Pain.
It passed after several moments and she looked back at her three would be interrogators, who seemed as perplexed and frustrated as her.
"Valeria," Valeria said, pointing to herself, speaking loudly. The motion was awkward with the chains, but she managed it.
"Cassandra," the dark woman finally said, her voice still holding an edge of fury, pointing to herself. She pointed to the redhead and the elf in turn - "Leliana. Solas." Now she had names for the faces, but they were no closer to understanding each other.
The elf - Solas - said something to the other two. They immediately looked dubious, but Leliana nodded. Solas stepped forward and raised his hand, which suddenly started to glow with a pale white light. A mage - or perhaps a witch? A witch might dress in such vagabondly fashion, but perhaps things worked differently here.
Valeria held up her hands, right palm out, gesturing for him to stop. He got the idea and pulled up short. He gestured from his mouth towards her, then from her towards his ear.
"A translation spell?" Such magics were difficult to get right, and they usually only lasted a few hours at a time, but if that was what he intended..
It would do, for now.
Valeria nodded and he came up to her. She closed her eyes against the glow and felt him touch his hand to her forehead. For a split second, her head felt full, like her brain was trying to burst out of her skull.
"...be able to understand me now," Solas said as he stepped back.
"It would seem so," Valeria replied, but the words that came out of her mouth were not Kantrian. "Who are you? Where am I, and why am I prisoner? What crime do you think I committed?"
"What crime? What crime?!" Cassandra burst out, almost lunging at Valeria but Leliana held her back.
"Hold, Cassandra. We need her." The dark haired woman made a disgusted 'ugh' sound in response, but complied with Leliana's words. "You are in Haven," Leliana said, looking at Valeria.
"Where?" Valeria knew a small town in rural Reynac by that name, but this was clearly not there. "What country? What continent? Last I knew, I was on the border of Kantrias and Aurelia, then I was somewhere green, running from a pack of drakewolves, and then I woke up here. With no idea about anything in between." Valeria took a deep breath, failing to center herself again, but at least she was able to calm down before she started talking fast enough to work herself into a babbling rant.
"And now I'm hearing languages I've never heard in my life and seeing a member of a race that should be extinct!" She gestured at Solas, her shackles making the motion awkward. Can I get these off please?
"Extinct?" Solas's tone was academic, curious, rather than a real reaction to the notion that his people might be extinct elsewhere.
"No one on Bayetz has seen a full-blooded elf in hundreds of years," Valeria explained, able to keep her tone calm once more.
"Haven is a village in the Frostback mountains, between Ferelden and Orlais," said Leliana. Valeria just gave her a blank look. "In Thedas?" Valeria shook her head. "Well, I've never heard of Kantrias, Aurelia or Bayetz either," Leliana added.
"I was afraid of that." Worry about what that means later, worry about how to get home later. Worry later. "What did I do to be imprisoned, and what is this... this?" She brandished left hand, the glowing green mark on her palm.
"You expect us to believe you are from some - from some distant, unknown land!?" Cassandra demanded. "That you somehow arrived at the Conclave without knowing where it is, that you were the only survivor of its destruction, but you don't know anything about that?!" Cassandra pointed angrily at the mark, scoffing.
"The Conclave?" It couldn't be a Karleist or Pather Conclave, but obviously it was some sort of meeting if importance. "What is that? What destroyed it? I don't know what it is, so why would I-?"
The green energy in her hand glowed brighter, spiking pain up her arm until she was once again crying out.
"Rakisharit, Lady Lifegiver, deliver me from this agony," Valeria prayed as the pain ripped through her. The goddess of healing, life and death did not answer her prayer in some obvious fashion, but the pain subsided more quickly than before.
"We don't have time for interrogations," Leliana said to Cassandra.
"I concur, Lady Cassandra," Solas added. "The Breach continues to grow, as does that mark. It will kill her if nothing is done soon."
This thing will kill me? Valeria tensed, inhaling sharply, shallowly. She did not fear death, but she did not welcome it, especially not painful death.
Cassandra made another disgusted 'ugh' sound, then nodded. "Then the rest will have to wait," she confirmed. She pulled a key from a pouch at her belt and unlocked the shackles from Valeria's wrists. "I do not know if I believe your story, but if you die, we'll have no answers, and no way to close the Breach, if your mark can even do that." She turned back to Leliana and Solas. "Go to the forward camp, I will follow with her." Leliana and Solas nodded, hurrying from the cell, as Cassandra took Valeria's hands and pulled her to her feet.
"What is this Breach? What is going on?" Valeria stood, somewhat shaky on her feet, but she managed to walk without aid. Cassandra led her out of the cell and up a flight of stairs into a grand hall of some sort, the four guards from her cell following her.
"It will be better if I just show you," Cassandra explained. As they walked towards the double doors at the far end of the hall, Cassandra did offer a bit of context: "The Conclave was an attempt by Divine Justinia to negotiate an end to the war between the mages and the templars. It was the last hope of a peaceful way to restore order to Thedas."
"So, you think I destroyed this peace conference? That's absurd. I hunt down heretics and..."
Cassandra pushed open the doors and Valeria trailed off as she saw a massive green hole in the sky. Rocks covered in green flame raining from it into the valley below, a valley nestled in snowy mountains that she could see all around on the horizon.
Valeria shivered as the cold open air hit her. At least it wasn't very windy.
"We call it the Breach," Cassandra explained as Valeria stared at what could only be a massive tear in the very fabric of reality itself. "It appeared at the same time as the explosion that destroyed the Conclave. You were the only survivor found in the ruins. The scouts who found you said that you fell out of a rift from the fade."
That would explain why they think I did this. Had something like this happened in Kantrias, Church and Crown alike would have blamed a lone survivor, at least until more information could be gathered.
"Demons have been falling from it, or escaping from smaller rifts constantly for three days now. Every time it grows, so does that mark on your hand. It - and you - might be the only chance we have of closing it. And unless we act, it may grow until it swallows the world."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Whatever else she was, wherever she was, Valeria was an Inquisitor-Captain of the Karelist Church. Karel preached Order above all, and Demons of any kind were a threat to that Order. Kharia Sul's teachings preached against the dangerous magics that played with the very fabric of reality, the kinds of magics that had to be involved in this.
The kinds of magics that coven was playing with. There had to be a link there, somehow, in some way.
The Gods would want me to see this through, see this Breach ended, whatever the cause, whoever is affected.
"Though - do you have my longcoat?" Valeria added. "I assume you took it along with my weapons, and I assume you don't trust me enough for the latter yet, but I'm not exactly dressed for this weather." As if to punctuate her words, she shivered again, but that was as much from her craving for the mist as the cold itself.
"Leliana took all your belongings when you were found, to examine them in order to determine your identity," Cassandra explained. She tossed a thick woolen cloak at Valeria. "For now, use this."
"This it will do," Valeria agreed. "Lead on, Cassandra."
Several minutes, a mass of accusatory stares, a promise of a 'fair trial', and a dropped bridge later, Valeria at least had a sword. It was a broadsword of a style that had to be nearly as outdated as all that breastplate armor, but it was a sword, even if it was a heavier weapon than she was used to.
It was better than going unarmed against the demon that rose up to attack her while Cassandra fought another. Valeria easily ducked under the sluggish swing from the creature, then swung her own blade in response. She underestimated the difficulty of an unfamiliar blade, and the sword nearly fell out of her hands as it passed out of the demon. As it was, the sword stuck into the ice a bit, leaving her momentarily weaponless. Fortunately, her blow sent the demon staggering back a pace, giving her an opening.
Stepping back, Valeria crossed her hands at the wrist as the demon charged, reaching out to the gods.
"Visare, Karel, Kharia Sul, hear me and expel this foul creature from this world!" She flung her right arm out at the demon and a ray of golden light flowed from her hand and into the demon. But it did not vanish, banished to whatever extradimensional realm it called home. Instead, it was stunned, standing in place.
Valeria did not have time to question what had happened - she pulled her blade from the ice and, using both hands, swung her sword into the demon's head, destroying its physical form as it collapsed and then faded from existence entirely.
"Drop the sword!" Cassandra barked at her, leveling her own blade at Valeria.
"Gladly," Valeria let it clatter on the ice between them. "Though you'll need to defend me against more of those demons between here and our destination in this demon infested valley."
Cassandra inhaled sharply, "You used magic against that demon. You're a mage. You do not need a sword - why did you have one with you?! Where was your staff?"
Valeria blinked. "I'm not a mage!" Despite all her efforts at self control, she felt herself crack as she shouted at Cassandra - the stress of the craving, the lack of food, the pain in her hand, her confusion and the impending prospect of her death at the hands of a strange mark made of unknown magic. The prospect of dying here in an unknown land, with the possibility of never seeing Kantrias, another Karelist or... Kyseen ever again even if she made it through this. All of it was combining to break her iron will in ways it hadn't broken in years. "I channeled the power of my gods to cast that spell, not the aether!"
"Your gods?!" Cassandra seemed as confused as Valeria felt. "Do you follow the Old Gods of Tevinter? They are not-"
"Tevinter? I don't know what that is. I follow the gods of the Karelist Pantheon. I am their servant. In return for furthering their will in this world, I can channel their power into magic. Not that my magic is working right. That spell should have banished the demon, not stunned it. Whatever it is your problem with me or magic is, right now, isn't there a gaping hole in the fabric of reality that demands our attention!?"
Cassandra took a breath, then nodded. "It does." She sheathed her sword. "Why did you not use your magic to defend yourself with fire, or force?"
"I am only trained in magics that ward against or dispel other magics, or banish or repel demons, spirits and the like. Nothing damaging. Hence my sword and revolver." If this continent was as backward as it seemed, her revolver - a weapon that had only been invented a few years ago - would be far ahead of what these people had. Assuming these people even had gunpowder to begin with.
Of course, I can't actually make more bullets. If she got her revolver back, she'd have to carefully husband them. Even if she could make gunpowder, she didn't have a clue how to make or use fulminated quicksilver to create the explosive caps on the ends of the bullets, or how to actually make the bullets.
And she didn't know how to make gunpowder. Not the recipe - the ingredients, yes. The method? Not even a little bit.
"Then take the sword with you. You are right. The valley is filled with demons. I cannot fight them all and ensure your safety as we go."
"I really hope you have my sword at this forward camp of yours," Valeria muttered.
When she saw Solas again, he was in the midst of fighting more demons, blasting ice at the demons coming out of... well, a smaller version of the Breach in the air before them. Though she and Cassandra had fought quite a few demons on the way here, this group was far larger. Several guards were also fighting, as was a beardless dwarf with an elaborate crossbow.
Her spells of banishment were still not working properly, but stunning the demons would allow the others to make short work of them. I can't keep channeling like this for much longer, not so much so fast. The magic was taking a greater toll on her than it should, as if it took more effort to draw on the gods' power. Was it something about the Breach, or her craving for the mist, or just pain and hunger and distraction? Or all of the above?
"Kharia Sul, I beseech, grant me your magic, Visare, grant me your might, Vitralia, grant me your will," Valeria murmured the prayer as she ran towards the demons, Cassandra right behind her. Thrusting her arms out towards the greatest concentration of demons, golden light flowed from them yet again, hitting most of the demons.
There was a momentary confusion as everyone realized their foes weren't moving, but only momentary. Within seconds, every demon had been destroyed, and Valeria approached the smaller breach, trying to get a good look at it as if shifted in the air -
She staggered and nearly hit the ground, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Hunger. That one was easy to place. When had she last eaten? She'd been unconscious for three days, but what about before then? She'd eaten - she'd...
She had no idea.
Solas caught her by her shoulder, keeping her on her feet. Once she was stabilized, he grabbed her left wrist and aimed the mark at the rift. Green energy flowed from the mark, from her, and into the rift. More pain spiked up her arm but less than any time previous.
And then the rift was gone.
"So it does do that then," Valeria said, swaying slightly. She stuck the sword in the snowy ground, using it as a makeshift cane as Solas stepped away from her. "What in the name of the gods happened in the time that I cannot remember?" She spoke quietly, as much to herself as anyone else. She straightened up as best she could, looking around.
"Perhaps not the best time, but does anyone have have any food?" She took a deep sucking, breath, trying to calm down a little.
"What, did the Chantry not feed you while you were unconscious?" the dwarf said, slinging his crossbow over his back. The thing seemed to be almost as long as he was tall. I've never seen a crossbow so elaborate. Then again, she'd only seen crossbows in the hands of hunters and assassins who needed its silence when set against a musket or pistol. Without waiting for an answer, the dwarf produced a stick of jerky from a pouch and handed it to her.
"I made sure you were given broth and honey, but that is only so much," Solas told her. He pulled a vial made of thick glass from his belt and handed it to her. "Drink this." The liquid inside was red.
"Healing potion?" Valeria asked, and Solas nodded.
She drank it, handing him the vial and felt some of the soreness from the fighting fade. She ate the jerky in seconds, not bothering to taste as she consumed it. "How exactly does this," she held up her left hand, palm outward, "close these smaller Breaches?"
"I am not entirely sure," Solas admitted. "But whatever magic opened the Breach and spawned these rifts gave you that mark. They are linked. I theorized the one could close the others. It would seem I was right. At least so far. It seems you hold the key to our salvation."
"Which is a good thing, because I was thinking we'd be ass-deep in demons forever," the dwarf observed. Despite the gravity of the situation, Valeria couldn't help but think what Kyseen would say to that - something about ass deep for a dwarf not being all that deep, perhaps.
No. Not now. But she couldn't - couldn't banish the thought of her... lover? Girlfriend? What had they even been?
"Varric Tethras," The dwarf introduced himself. Despite the weather, his shirt was open several buttons, and he had quite an impressive amount of chest hair. "Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwanted tagalong." Dwarves, at least, should still exist. Not that she had much experience with them, and what she had was with surface exiles and their children.
"Valeria Morn, Inquisitor-Captain of the Karelist Inquisition and apparently a suspect for mass murder." Valeria took another breath and pulled the sword out of the ground. She felt better. At least for the moment. Not well, not good, but she could keep going. She had to, after all.
"Karelist Inquisition?" Varric shook his head. "Can't say I've ever heard of that. But I doubt you blew up the Conclave - you don't have the right look."
"I would have had no reason to. I'm not even from Thedas."
"No shit?"
"It would seem so." Solas interjected. "She neither spoke nor understood any language have ever heard of. Were it not for my spell, we would still be pantomiming."
"You claim the mantle of Inquisitor?" Cassandra demanded, and Valeria shook her head.
"Inquisitor-Captain, if you please. I don't know what the word means here, but in Kantrias, I am merely one officer of many in the Inquisition."
Cassandra inhaled sharply. "You really are not from Thedas, are you? You have no idea what's going on, what you've stumbled into."
"Not even remotely," Valeria agreed.
"The Inquisition of old was an organization that in the days before the Chantry, rooted out blood mages and heretics, restored order in the chaotic times after the fall of the Tevinter Imperium."
Blood mages? That sounded unpleasant.
"It is a name that has a certain... weight in some circles," Cassandra said after a moment. "I was startled to hear you use it."
"Ah," Valeria didn't really understand, but she didn't have time to care about that. Or the energy.
"What does an Inquisitor-Captain do when they're at home?"
"Hunt down heretics, pagans and renegade witches and mages, mostly," Valeria explained. "Other Inquisitors had other duties - protection of important clergy, or rooting out corruption within the Church, for example." The Inquisition, for various reasons, was required to wear many different hats.
"Sounds positively delightful. You're a templar, basically."
"I wouldn't know enough to say." She took another breath. "And though I really would appreciate more time to rest, we need to close this breach before this mark kills me, right?"
"We do," Cassandra agreed. "We can continue to talk on our way up the mountain if you insist on chattering, Varric."
"Oh, you know me, Seeker. I love to talk, whatever I'm doing." Cassandra just made another disgusted 'ugh' and turned, starting to head up the path, walking quickly.
"As long as we're not fighting, we may as well keep talking," Valeria observed, setting off after her, Solas and Varric right behind.
"Let's start with how you ended up in Thedas, if you're from some distant continent? That's got to be an interesting story right there."
"It would be, if I remembered it. I was arresting a renegade coven. Then I was here, more or less. I don't remember much of anything in between."
"Is that what you told the Seeker?"
"Once we could actually understand each other," Valeria confirmed.
"Well, that was your first mistake. You've got to spin a story," Varric advised.
"I don't lie," Valeria said flatly. Not that she could anyway, which had rather limited their options those times when she'd been working alongside Kyseen, but they'd learned to play to their strengths.
This? Fighting through horde of demons? Undoing powerful and dangerous magic? This was her strength.
The continued effort to get the site of the Conclave - a holy site of some significance to whatever the religion here was called the Temple of Sacred Ashes - meant fighting through still more demons. Again and again, in small groups of two or three at a time, they fought demons of two types: half-ethereal ghostly beings, which Solas called 'Wraiths' and larger, slow-moving and clumsy beasts that seemed to be made of tattered robes and shadows imaginatively called 'Shades'.
Perhaps these are actually some form of undead, and that's why the spell isn't working right? Valeria didn't have the time or equipment to actually check. If they were undead, her spell shouldn't have even stunned them.
But as they fought their way to the forward camp, Valeria stopped using her magic. Still hungry, still craving the mist, still in pain from the mark on her hand, she needed to conserve her strength. The mortal body was not truly designed to channel divine power. - It took a toll to do it at all, and doing it too much, too frequently was an easy way to put yourself into a coma, or even die.
There would be a greater battle ahead, she was sure, and she'd want to save it for that, rather than these penny-packet bands of enemies. But even they were taking a toll. Battle after battle after battle was a punishing pace she'd rarely faced. Guns had a tendency of making most small-scale battles rather short, if you were able to fire first and hit accurately.
As she could.
The distance gave Varric time to fill her in a bit on what she'd managed to stumble into, though she only understood about half of what he was saying. The rest lacked context and meaning to her. The 'Divine' was some religious leader, of the 'Chantry', which sounded like some sort of Church. The Divine's death in the destruction the Conclave had not only screwed up some kind of peace conference, but also thrown the religious hierarchy into chaos at the worst possible moment.
What made this moment 'the worst' was unclear to her, but both Cassandra and Varric seemed quite firm on this being a terrible moment for a gap in leadership. Solas said little along the way, and Valeria let the other two talk, grabbing onto as much information as she could. She could worry about what it meant later, another time.
Finally, after closing a second rift - this time she managed to get it done without Solas grabbing her wrist - they reached the forward camp. The camp was set up on a bridge, with some tents, various piles and crates of supplies and some tables. Not much, but it seemed to be what they could do in the chaos.
As she passed a crate filled with healing potions, Valeria grabbed several, drinking two immediately, feeling most of the soreness and pain from the battles fade away. The edge of her craving even was taken off, the rush of energy the healing potions gave her letting her ignore it, just a touch.
For just a bit.
Gods help me if they don't have Khaltis Root anywhere.
Valeria paused for a breath, then looked ahead to the far end of the camp. Leliana was there, arguing with a man in red and white robes and a boxy-looking hood.
"Chancellor Roderick," Cassandra muttered, barely audible. "If he is still trying to give orders..." another disgusted 'ugh' escaped her lips and she started towards the two. Valeria followed close behind, and she heard Varric and Solas follow, though it sounded as if they were keeping their distance.
"Ah, you've finally arrived," the man said, his voice barely the polite side of a sneer. Leliana's greeting was much less hostile - and she even came bearing gifts.
"I couldn't bring all your possessions, but I thought you'd need these," Leliana produced Valeria's longcoat, still impeccably clean and...
"Oh thank the gods," Valeria took her saber from the redhead first, relinquishing the broadsword she'd been forced to use and fitting the weapon onto her belt. Then she traded the hooded cloak for her coat - even taking the step of putting her arms through the sleeves, unlike her usual habit.
It was just that cold outside.
Valeria inhaled sharply as the familiar weight of the saber at her hip and the coat on her shoulders. This was how an Inquisitor should be garbed, this was how she should be armed. The fact that her pistol wasn't among the things returned to her suggested they didn't realize it was a weapon - unlikely - or they'd test fired it a few times and found out it was quite destructive to the armor everyone used around here. They may need me, but they don't trust me.
"Thank you," Valeria nodded to Leliana. "Are the rest of my belongings-?" Was her prayer book intact?
"Not content to let the prisoner run free, you're arming her as well, Seeker," The 'Chancellor' cut in. "Have you lost all sense of your duties to the Chantry!? As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution!"
"I thought I was promised a trial," Valeria replied, turning to Cassandra, her hand on the hilt of her saber. She'd go down fighting before she let herself be taken to a forgone execution. "And that it was to be done after the Breach was dealt with."
"You were," Cassandra confirmed. "And it is."
"You have no authority to-" the Chancellor tried to cut in, but Cassandra interrupted, raising her voice, tone harsh and contemptuous.
"You have no authority to command me, Grand Chancellor! You are a glorified clerk, a bureaucrat!"
Ah. With that information, it was easy to understand what why this man was trying to assert control, even with patently stupid commands. A small-minded man, in total command of his small world. Probably even good at his job, administering things under other people's leadership.
But now, his entire world was crumbling - his boss dead at a bad time, and demons were raining down from the sky.
This.
This sort of small-minded idiot she could handle. Don't actually hurt him, she reminded herself. Attacking a member of the local clergy, clerk or not, was a bad idea.
"And you are a thug! But at least a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry." Valeria tightened her grip on the hilt of her saber, taking a small step forward as the other argued.
"We serve the Most Holy, as you well know," Leliana reproached him.
"Justinia is dead! We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter."
"I'm as much a fan of elections as any good Kantrian," Valeria cut in, "But I rather think we don't have time for one right now." She took another step towards him. "I didn't destroy your Conclave, and I didn't kill your Divine-"
"Lies! You were the only one found in the ruins, and that mark on your hand is proof of your guilt!" The Chancellor replied, unwisely getting in her face.
"This mark, you mean? Why don't you take a closer look," She brought her left hand close to his face, then reached under and grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him over the table and holding him up - he was on still on the ground, but only just. The others all drew or half-drew their weapons, but Valeria didn't slow down as she drew her sword and pressed it against the man's neck.
"And if you try and stop me from dealing with the Breach and the army of demons you've got raining down from the sky..." She trailed off, letting his imagination do the work as she gave him a brutal glare, one she could practically do in her sleep, ingrained in her training. The Chancellor could only whimper out a response as the front of his robes grew damp.
"Put him down," Cassandra ordered, drawing her sword.
"I wasn't actually going to hurt him. Stupidity isn't actually crime or a sin, and I don't kill the innocent." Valeria dropped the man, who managed to grab onto the table to avoid completely collapsing to the ground as his legs gave out. It was perfect timing, because moments after she dropped the officious bureaucrat, the Breach rumbled and grew, and the mark crackled to life once more, the pain slicing through her focus - she was getting used to it, but it still hurt.
"Now, can we please focus on the giant hole in the sky?" Valeria ground out, teeth gritted.
"Word of advice?" Varric offered, "Assaulting members of the Chantry is probably not the best play."
"I'll keep that in mind if I live through this," Valeria replied flatly. "We don't have time for niceties, or would you like to be overrun by demons?"
"Good point," Varric acknowledged.
"We need to get to the temple," Cassandra said. "We must cut through the rest of the valley and make our way to the ruins from there," She inhaled sharply. "If we muster all of our remaining soldiers-"
"We may not have enough time - if we go through the old tunnels in the mountains, we can get the temple faster - if we send our men as a distraction-"
"We already lost a whole squad of scouts in those tunnels, Leliana," Cassandra cut in. "It's too risky."
"And charging across an open battlefield crawling with demons isn't?" Leliana countered.
"If my vote counts for anything," Valeria added, after a deep breath, "I think we should try the tunnels. I may not even live long enough to get to the temple if we take the long way. And my training is for fighting in smaller encounters, not pitched open battles." She was loathe to just send people in as a distraction, pure fodder, to give her chance at this temple and closing the breach, but it was the best option they had.
Cassandra frowned momentarily, then nodded. "We'll take the tunnels, then." She looked to Leliana, "Bring everyone we have left in the valley. Everyone."
The tunnels turned out to be an old mining complex of some sort, but the small confines suited her perfectly. She still husbanded her magic but took advantage of the space to corner individual demons and deal with them one by one. The enchantments and blessings on her blade worked against the demons, letting her saber hurt them more than it should have otherwise, but not as much as they were supposed to.
She had neither the energy nor the presence of mind left to think about what that meant.
Eventually, they made it out of the tunnel. They closed a rift after facing down two lizardmen-like, thin-limbed demons Solas called 'Terror Demons', which seemed quite apt from the way their screeches made her blood run cold. They even rescued what was left of the squad of scouts, which had been pinned down by the rift and the demons it had spawned.
But finally, they approached the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She could see, just from what was left, that it had once been an impressive structure, in size and grandeur. She saw half intact statues, interspersed with shattered pieces of stained glass windows...
And bodies, still lying, standing or crouching where they'd been burned, their flesh fused with their bones in grotesque fashion.
Unable to help herself, Valeria looked in dismayed awe at the scope of the destruction. "What could possibly do this much destruction?" She knew of no magic that could destroy so large a building so completely. Several dozen mages working together on an earthquake, perhaps, but then where would the flames that still burnt in a few places have come from?
I'd say gunpowder in mass quantities could do it, but then why is there a hole in fabric of reality?
"We can worry about the how when the immediate threat has been dealt with," Cassandra pointed out tersely. "This is where you fell out of the fade. The scouts that found you said they saw a woman in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."
"I... remember a woman. Right before waking up in the cell. Everything was green, I was running from a pack of drakewolves... a woman reached out to me..." Valeria trailed off as they approached the center of the blast. There was a deep hole, and a rift partially closed or dormant, glowing faintly, her mark reacting to it.
"We need to get down there," Solas said. "If we close that rift, I believe it will seal the Breach. It was the first, and that makes it the key."
"Let's hope this works like you think, or we're going to have to learn how to fly," Varric mused.
"You made it - thank the Maker!" Leliana said, and Valeria turned to see about twenty soldiers, half with bows, half without, behind her.
"Have your men take up positions around the rift," Cassandra told Leliana, then turned to Valeria. "Are you ready?"
Valeria nodded, "Ready to close this Breach or die trying," she nodded. She let out a long breath. "Really hoping the latter doesn't happen." Her voice wavered as she said that, sounding pitiful, but she couldn't keep her composure, not in the face of all this. Not perfectly.
Karel, Kharia Sul, Mavaro Rentar... what did I do to deserve this?
"No. I need a moment," she said. "If I'm going to die, I'd like to make sure I pray one last time first." Cassandra nodded without hesitation, and Valeria closed her eyes, folded her arms over her chest and bowed her head. "Karel, You Who Design, Font of Wisdom, if I die now, know I died in pursuit of order, your holy cause. I lived my life by your teachings, and I ask nothing but entrance into peaceful eternity, if I prove worthy." Then, after a moment, she murmured another prayer, doing her best to make sure none of the others heard it.
"Alariesti, Voice of Love. If I should fall, or even if it is merely my fate to never return home..." her voice cracked, but she took another breath and forced herself to finish. "Let Kyseen find another. Nonbeliever she may be, she is a good woman, loyal to Crown and Country, who lives her life in pursuit of order and the advancement of civilization, as I always have. If I never see her again... I want her to be happy, not alone for the rest of her life." She didn't even try to stop the water collecting in her eyes, or the tear
I'm not sure what I am to her, but I know I love her. The worst time to realize it, perhaps, but the prospect of truly never seeing her again...
It brought everything into sharp relief.
Valeria opened her eyes, wiping the tears away and inhaling deeply.
"I'm ready," she nodded.
Valeria followed Cassandra down into the crater. As they drew closer, she heard a booming, echoing voice, deep and unnerving: "Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."
"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked before Valeria could.
"At a guess, the person who created the Breach," Solas offered.
"And how are we doing that, exactly?" Valeria asked, seeing several large red, glowing crystal formations just up ahead.
"In the Fade, time is fluid. And with the Veil nonexistent here, that fluidity could very well be true here. We are likely hearing the last moments before the creation of the Breach."
Good to know for sure that I didn't do this. Valeria couldn't sound like that.
She drew up short as they drew closer to the glowing formations. Just being around them set her teeth on edge - she held up her right hand and murmured quiet prayer to Kharia Sul.
"Don't touch those!" Varric hurried towards her, grabbing at her arm.
"I wasn't planning on it," Valeria countered. "I was just trying to analyze... these aren't natural formations."
"Not even close," Varric agreed. "This is Red Lyrium. You touch that shit - hell, just even spend too much time around it - and you'll go nuts. Or worse."
"Die?"
"If only," Varric shook his head. "The last person who messed with this stuff turned into a statue made entirely of this - and last I checked, she had and was the only Red Lyrium in existence." Varric turned back to Cassandra. "The statue is still in Kirkwall, right Seeker?"
"The statue that was Knight-Commander Meredith is still in Kirkwall, as far as I know," Cassandra replied.
"Then how did this shit get here?"
"Magic could have drawn on any lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it somehow," Solas suggested.
Yet more things I have no context for. Valeria shook her head as they reached the bottom of the crater.
"Keep the sacrifice still," the voice ordered. Very little that involves the word 'sacrifice' is good. Especially when it was something you needed to keep still.
"Someone, help me!" A voice, female, called out, echoing in the same way as the other voice, though without that unnerving quality.
"That is Divine Justinia!" Cassandra called out. She moved quicker, racing ahead. Valeria stepped up her pace, trying to keep up with her. As they drew closer to the rift, her mark crackled to life yet again, but it didn't hurt this time - not much, anyway. Instead her hand was lifting of its own accord, lifting towards the rift.
"Someone, help me!" The woman's voice - Justina's - called out again. Then Valeria heard her own voice, speaking in Kantrian:
"What the fuck is going-" then, with fear in her voice, just a tiny quaver, "What the fuckare you?"
If there was one thing that had been true about her for over a decade, it was that she did not curse. She hadn't even done it in bed, which had earned her some gentle ribbing from Kyseen about it.
"That was you! What did you say?" Cassandra demanded. Valeria translated, leaving out the quaver of fear in the second question.
"Most Holy called out to you," Cassandra added softly.
The rift rippled and several ghostly images formed in the air between it and them, like an Illusion Play at Mytale's Theater in Kantrias. A shadowy figure, tall, with vaguely humanoid shape, but the proportions all wrong. A woman, wearing elaborate red and white robes, complete with a tall hat of some sort. She was held up in the air, her arms straight out, surrounded in some sort of magical bindings.
Then she saw herself, her sword in her hand, reaching for her revolver at her belt, cursing at the... thing that had this Divine Justinia prisoner.
"Run while you can!" Justina said, looking to her. "Warn them!" Unsurprisingly, Valeria's image just looked confused, unable to understand what had been said. Her image took a step towards the shadowy figure.
Draw your revolver, idiot! She commanded her - past? - self. Shoot him, whatever he is!
"We have an intruder. Slay her," the voice commanded, and then the entire image shattered, disappearing from view.
"You were there," Cassandra accused, glaring at her.
"Obviously," Valeria agreed. "But I still don't remember it. And I don't recognize that... figure - shape... thing." She gestured helplessly at where the images had been.
"Echos of what happened here. The Fade bleeds," Solas observed. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed. Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift could be opened, then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift may attract attention from the other side."
"That means demons! Stand ready!" Cassandra drew her own sword at her words, as did the ten or so soldiers that had come down into the crater behind herself, Cassandra, Varric and Solas. On the upper edges of the crater, the rest of the soldiers notched arrows to bows.
"Let's get this done," Valeria nodded. She aimed her left hand at the rift, drawing her saber once more and holding the hilt tight as energy flowed from the mark and into the rift. After a moment, the rift burst to life, tearing open before them, and a massive figure, easily three or four times the height of a human, and just as wide, stepped out of the rift within seconds.
"Vitralia take me, that's huge," Valeria murmured. What did they feed the demons on this continent, that they got so large?
Not only was it large, but lightning crackled off of it's hands and horns, and it was covered in thick, chitinous plates.
"Pride demon!" Cassandra called out. "We must strip it's defenses! Wear it down!"
Running back and putting some distance between the demon and herself, Valeria crossed her arms over her chest, praying, calling on as much power as she could safely channel through herself: "Vitralia, Visare, Karel, Syrestara, Rakisharit, guide my hand, guide my will, and banish this demon, expel it forth from this realm!"
To her great lack of surprise at this point, the demon was still there, even after a ray of nearly blinding golden light hit it, but it was standing still, at the very least.
Her insides burned and roiled at the force of the power she'd channeled through herself.
"Now! While it's vulnerable!" Cassandra ordered her men, and they all converged on the demon.
After a moment to catch her breath and drink the last healing potion she had left, Valeria charged in at it, as did everyone else, arrows peppering the demon, only a few from every volley finding any purchase in its thick hide, the swords that hit it mostly sounding like they were clattering on thick metal. Valeria approached it's leg and sliced at what she thought might be a tendon - she didn't cut any muscles, but she did manage to damage the plate she'd hit.
Every swing, every arrow, every bolt from Varric's crossbow, every blast from Solas's staff saw the demon slightly more injured. Ichor ran from a few actual cuts, and the thick hide of the beast was cracking with every blow.
She couldn't count how long her spell held the demon in place, but unlike all the others she'd had to fight to get this far, it didn't stay held until death. With ichor now streaming from several arrow wounds in its back and a few deep cuts on its legs where its thick hide had been broken through completely, the demon let out a massive roar, sweeping its arms along the ground.
Valeria dropped and rolled to the side, instinctively reaching for her revolver as she barely evaded the swing, her muscles screaming at the exertion she was putting it through atop everyone else.
"I can't stun it again!" Valeria shouted a warning, then charged at the demon as it swiped at Cassandra. She took the blow on her breastplate and fell to the ground a short distance away, but forced herself to her feet in seconds with the help of one of her soldiers.
Valeria kept swinging at the demon, moving constantly around it's legs to avoid giving the thing an opening to hit her - the enchantments on her coat weren't enough to let her endure a hit from something so large and strong as this demon.
Valeria couldn't keep a close eye on the other combatants as she focused on moving, moving, slicing at whatever part of the demon's legs she could reach.
Finally, with one more deafening roar, the demon started to stagger, the ground now slick with its blood.
"Valeria, move!" Cassandra called out, as the demon struggled to stay upright. Blinking against the sweat that had gotten into her eyes, Valeria realized it was about to fall on her if it toppled - diving to the right, Valeria rolled to avoid the demon, feeling every stone and rough patch of dirt her body hit. She felt and heard the impact of the demon crashing to the ground, her teeth rattling as the reverberations shook the ground beneath her.
Breathing heavily, Valeria lay there for... she wasn't sure how long. She rolled over onto her back, every part of her body hurting, the soreness from her exertions intense enough to drown out any feelings from the craving for the mist.
Small favors from the gods.
Cassandra crouched next to her, grabbing onto Valeria's hand.
"Almost there, Inquisitor-Captain," Cassandra told her, using the proper rank. "You need to close the rift before more demons come through."
Valeria nodded, managing to push herself up into a sitting position. "Still..." she sucked in another deep breath. "Still think I did this?"
"It seems unlikely, if that vision was true," Cassandra replied. "I'm inclined to believe your innocence."
"Well, that's good." Valeria took a moment to consider the woman next to her. When she wasn't accusing her of mass murder, this Cassandra Pentaghast was more than just striking, she was quite handsome, even with the dirt and sweat and strain of battle.
Gods, I've got to be a little delirious.
With Cassandra's help, she got to her feet, sheathing her saber. She nearly fell after taking a few steps. Cassandra put Valeria's right arm around her shoulders and her own arm around Valeria's back, helping her reach the rift.
"Here goes nothing," Valeria murmured, holding out her left hand.
For the final time in one of the most hectic days in her life, green energy flowed from the mark on her hand and into a rift, a tear in reality. She closed her eyes, keeping her hand in place - were it not for Cassandra's assistance, she'd have dropped to the ground again.
Finally the energy stopped flowing from her hand and Valeria felt her legs give out entirely and she slid out of Cassandra's grip, hitting the floor. The sound of broken glass sliding on broken glass assaulted her ears for a moment, followed by a low boom, like a distant cannon being fired, the roar dull and muted as if -
And then.
Blackness.