It was a soft night. The kind of night where one opened the shutters on windows to let in the slight ever changing breeze. The type of night where one lay in the soft grass and just enjoyed. It was cool, but not overly so, and clear enough that the stars hanging in the sky were perfectly visible and like illuminated diamonds hanging so low it was like you could pick them. However, the world was quiet, as if waiting, holding its breath for something. Houses shuttered tight, towns and cities were eerily silent. Everyone was watching, waiting.
All eyes were on a temple, one that was a hive of activity but not with people enjoying the perfect night. Everyone was tense, all hard lines and harsher souls. A world at war, paused for the briefest of moments as a conclave had been called, a glimmer of hope for peace. Everyone waited to see if the Mages and Templars would settle themselves back to their rightful places in the world. A choice that would affect everything, as it already had. Many lay dead at the brutal hands of another; enemies and innocents alike, siblings and complete strangers. Swept up in the upset of Mages crying for freedom and Templars determined to wipe them out. Chantry leader Divine Justinia called for the conclave, a woman who hoped and gambled on peace. Concessions would have to be made, but surely it could be seen as progress?
Haven sat bustling with activity, thanks to it's closeness to the conclave. Even so, there was a guarded air to the bustle, a thing that spoke of one trusting of no other in the crowd. It was uneasy. Even within the rough walls and relative safety of Haven, people were on edge.
Then in the silence of that perfect night, there was an explosion. Leveling the Temple. Green light echoed across the sky and when it faded there was a hole marring the sky, a great green, and pulsing maw. Like a disease eating away flesh, it ate away at the sky. It was a hole to the Fade. Looking at the breach between world's was like peeking into the Fade; a broken, chaotic copy of the world it caused headaches and nausea. The explosion itself destroyed the Temple, those inside seemingly disintegrated, and those out had just enough time to react before heat and fire left corpses twisted in pain and fear. Life oh so easily snuffed out. Peace oh so easily shattered. A world thrust into chaos like it had never seen.
Below the hole was a rift, a glittering crystalline thing that shifted and shuttered without sound. A thing that pulled spirits from the Fade, warping them into demons that clawed their way forward, bent on destruction. The Breach opened more rifts as it pulsed and grew eating more of the sky. The rifts, smaller crystalline things, beacons between worlds, spewing spirits turned demons. It all worked to turn the real world into a broken thing like the Fade.
Days passed, the Mages and Templars were forgotten in the face of demons. Being close to the conclave was now a curse. Haven stood closest to it all and quickly become the place to try to fight back the demons. A seemingly useless endeavor. For every demon killed, two clawed out of the rifts to replace those that'd fallen. In those days after, Cassandra Pentaghast arrived. Luck saw her out on a mission; otherwise, she too would have been gone. As it was, she gave hope, she had experience in fighting, and organizing troops. Plus she was not alone. With her was a dwarf. A man, who for those who read, was easily recognizable. Varric Tethras. He wielded his strange crossbow with the best of soldiers. And soon a mage joined them. An elf, Solas, who knew much about the Fade. A blessing Cassandra did not turn away.
A small band of soldiers fought to the temple, to the rift at its center. It was calm here. Watching the huge rift's green crystalline structure shift and move silently was eerie. It looked as if it should make a noise like steel upon steel. Light flashed, the rift shuttered again parting for a second almost like a door opening. Swords were drawn, soldiers fearing this was some demon. Only instead of fighting, the closest man to fell to his knees, sword clattering to the ground, dropped and forgotten as he clasped his hands as if in prayer. A lady in shining light was visible for a second, then a person staggered out, the rift shifted again, the lady vanished, and the person fell forward unconscious.
The soldiers hesitated, watching the figure weary this was some trick. As if proving it, lightning visibly surged around the prone body. One soldier moved forward hesitantly. Long hair, black as spilt ink, fluttered across the ground in a sudden breeze, leaving one pointed ear visible. An elf. Half the face was covered in a mask. Dark lashes graced pale skin. Lightning surged again, an odd sort of white yet blue color. It didn't hurt the elf, but none of the soldiers wanted to test if it would hurt them.
"Go get Lady Cassandra." One stepped forward pointedly looking at another. He was the highest ranked soldier here, so the other nodded, turned, and ran down the path that led to Haven where Cassandra was currently at, organizing the troops.
Solas stood close by watching as Cassandra made plans. Her attention was drawn away by the arrival of a soldier, the poor soul babbling something about a person at the Temple. She seemed confused by it but deemed it important enough to check out. Solas followed curiously. Until now he had been unable to get close to the Breach, now there was a chance to see it up close. A daunting thing to do, but something Solas needed. The trek from Haven to the Temple wasn't a long one, particularly easy and quick when demons weren't swarming the paths. What awaited them wasn't what Solas expected. Laying face down, mere feet from the rift, was a person. A stranger, not one of their soldiers. The soldiers looked uneasy, and it was quickly apparent why when Solas witnessed the strange surging lightning.
"What's going on?" Cassandra moved closer to the figure, but she too was weary of the lightning.
"Stumbled out of the rift..." "Shinning lady behind 'em." "A blessing from the Maker." Several voices answered with different parts of a similar story. Finally, Solas moved forward; he was a healer. He knelt by the prone figure, noting pointed ear like the soldiers had. It was impossible to tell what gender the elf was, but basing assumption off the long hair, Solas tentatively thought they were a she. In any case, she was a mystery her armor was mottled colors; dark browns, dark greens, grays, and dark blues. The mask that covered half her face matched and seemed to be part of the top she wore, as it flowed into the high collar. She was a small and slight thing, even for an elf. When Solas moved to roll her onto her side, the lightning surged almost protectively clashing and crashing along her body, a warning to stay away. Solas held his hand out over her, hovering just above the crackling lightning. He soothed it with his own magic. Light blue in color, soothing to watch. The lightning seemed to part, fleeing the blue light as he reached down, grimacing when his hand made contact with the lightly armored shoulder as if it hurt. He rolled her over and yanked his hand away. For a second, one could see seared flesh, white lines creeping up his arm like lightning, before it smoothed over and was gone, healed. Rolling her onto her back did little, but did reveal her right hand, crippled as it was, and with it a mark. A mark that matched the hole in the sky, only smaller, like a bit of the breach clung to her hand, poisoning her. The flesh around it was red swollen slightly, green lines traced out following the pathways of her veins.
"What is that?" Cassandra's voice seemed to echo. Solas stared at the mark for several moments.
"I do not know." His voice was easy soft betraying none of his thoughts.
"Let's get them back to Haven. Little we can do until they awaken." Someone brought a stretcher forward setting it beside the prone woman. Solas took a deep breath, and with a blue light coating his hands and arms, he lifted the prone figure up quickly depositing her onto the stretcher. This time there was a smell of burnt flesh that had nothing to do with the twisted corpses outside the ruined temple walls. The lines of lightning on his skin lasted longer, but cool healing blue light soothed the wounds until they were no more.
"Whatever protects her is strong. My magic quietens it but does not stop it. Leave her alone until she awakens perhaps then the lightning will stop." Solas straighten watching as two soldiers grabbed the stretcher seemed they were safe from her lightning. The trip back to Haven was a quick as the trip to the Temple. Word spread fast, twisted faster. It went from she was Maker sent to she was the one behind the explosion. It was no surprise when Cassandra ordered her into the dungeon. Solas followed, keen on keeping the woman alive.
