Margol still wasn't convinced this wasn't some horrible, surreal dream she was having.
Her left hand was screaming in pain as it glowed - glowed! - as she jogged up a mountainside with a short-haired woman who was apparently a Seeker. Or used to be a Seeker? Either way, Margol had thoroughly pissed off the Maybe-Seeker after they had tumbled off of an exploding bridge, only to find themselves face-to-face with some actual, real-life demons.
Though her family back in Ostwick had ties with both the Chantry and with the Circle, Margol had never seen a demon before. They looked more… real than she had expected them to. Her younger self had always imagined demons as shadowy, wolf-like creatures, but the ones before her were terrifying and well-designed for some wicked purpose.
Luckily, some crates had tumbled down with them as they fell from the ruined bridge and out of one of the crates spilled some daggers. They weren't very good quality, but they were enough for now. Margol had grabbed a twin pair and had charged headfirst into a demon, effectively saving the Maybe-Seeker - Cassandra - from a nasty gash. But once their fight had been over, Cassandra had simply turned to Margol, still holding her sword and shield defensively.
"Drop. Your. Weapon," she ordered in a loud, clear voice. She sounded like someone who was used to having her orders obeyed.
"So you're saying you can protect both of us - you can fight off all the demons that come falling out of the sky?" Margol questioned lightly, looking unperturbed by the sword in her face as she sheathed her newfound weapons on her back. Cassandra's grip on her sword loosened reluctantly. "Ah, that's what I thought."
That really seemed to tick Cassandra off. She made a huffing noise, before handing Margol some healing potions. "Take these," she ordered. "You will need them."
Suddenly, Margol was very tempted to stubbornly refuse to take any of the potions. She imagined herself standing triumphantly at their destination, unscathed, while Cassandra limped behind her, begging to have one of the healing potions that she had given to Margol. Now who needs them? She would say, throwing her head back and laughing as a triumphant orchestra would begin to play.
"Erm, thanks," Margol said awkwardly, taking the potions from Cassandra and trying to beat the mental image away. If Cassandra noted her suddenly strange disposition, she said nothing.
The pair walked on in silence, their path occasionally peppered with a few demons. Margol did not speak to Cassandra; she was still a little miffed at her about the weapons ordeal and the way that Cassandra never let Margol vanish from her sight during their battles. It was justified, she supposed; she did look suspicious with all of the circumstances but that didn't-
"What do I call you?" Cassandra demanded suddenly, tearing Margol out of her thoughts.
"Ah, what?"
Cassandra sighed. "Back there, with that demon in your blind spot. I tried to call out to you, to warn you, but I don't know your name. That is why I just said, 'look out.'"
"Oh," Margol said, her brown eyebrows furrowing. She thought Cassandra had done a good enough job of warning her. The rogue had managed to jump aside at the last second and the demon's claws had only scraped her side; it was a superficial wound, one that would have been much worse without the Seeker's warning. "My name is Margol."
"Margol. Very well," Cassandra said. The pair dropped into silence once more as they climbed up some stone steps that were slick with ice and snow. As they approached the top of the makeshift staircase, the sound of fighting could be heard. Cassandra wasted no time charging in to assist the soldiers and Margol followed suit, slightly bewildered by what she saw.
"This is the strangest thing I've ever been involved in," she called to no one as particular as she plunged her daggers into the back of a demon that had been charging toward…. a dwarf who was flipping around with a crossbow. The injured demon squealed, arms wildly flailing around and landing a blow on Margol's unhelmeted head as it did so. She felt warm liquid ooze over her temple and down her neck, into the plain armor she had been given.
She didn't have much time to worry about how much blood she might be losing, though; another demon came to replace the one she had just killed and another one after that. Once the fighting seemed to stop she sheathed her daggers, finally getting a good look around.
"Quickly!"
An elven mage she hadn't noticed before came toward her, his hand wrapping around her wrist roughly. He pulled her to the green tear, thrusting her palm into the air. Her hand crackled - not quite painfully, but with a foreign sensation that was definitely unpleasant - and a green light shot forward, connecting her palm with the tear in the sky. Light burst and dazzled in the air around them, before finally coming to a stop.
The tear was gone, just as the Seeker and her redhead friend had predicted.
"Yes, I thought so," the mage mused, looking satisfied. Apparently he had theorized just the same. He now looked upon Margol, but spoke to Cassandra. "The mark on her palm has the ability to close the rifts."
"And does it also have the ability to open them?" Cassandra asked.
"I think it must," he said. "But I do not think your prisoner was responsible for the Breach... nor any of the smaller rifts. She's not a mage; it would have taken a grand scale of magic in order to do achieve such a feat."
Margol smiled slightly. "Maker's breath - are you telling me somebody here actually believes that I'm innocent?" she questioned incredulously, making the flippy dwarf laugh.
"I do," the elf confirmed. "The fact that you agreed to help us also helps your case."
The dwarf shrugged, reloading his crossbow. "Of course she's helping - she lives in this world, doesn't she? Probably doesn't want to live in a place that's got demons falling out of the sky."
Margol smiled. "True enough."
There was a silence before the elven mage cleared his throat, causing her gaze to turn back to him. "We will help you and Cassandra reach the forward camp," he said, leaning casually against his staff. "I am Solas."
"Ah, Chuckles, why are you volunteering me? It's about time I hit the road… kidding!" the dwarf said, putting his hands up defensively as Cassandra shot him a look and took a step closer. He lowered his hands, looking to Margol. "Varric Tethras, at your service. I didn't get your-"
"Her name is Margol," Cassandra cut off, motioning toward a broken wall. She stepped over some of the demon bodies and climbed over the low stones, pointing down the mountain side. "We must head this way. Quickly. We need to meet Leliana. You two can talk if we survive this ordeal."
"Is she always this… sunny?" Margol asked as they followed Cassandra over the broken wall. Solas hung back behind the group, occasionally casting some kind of wards around the group that made Margol's skin tingle.
Varric chuckled. "She sure is. She hauled my ass outta Kirkwall to bring me up here and I don't even get a 'thanks, Varric, for staying and helping us not die.'"
"Varric Tethras, you said? You're... not the Varric that wrote Hard in Hightown, are you?" she questioned slowly. Varric's face lit up.
"Why, are you a fan?" he teased. "Don't ask me for spoilers. People always ask me for spoilers."
"This is the strangest thing I've ever done," Margol muttered under her breath. Here she was, trekking across a frozen river, led by a Seeker and walking next to the Varric Tethras, famous Kirkwall author, while an elven apostate trailed behind them. "If I live through this I'm going to have some amazing stories. My family is not going to believe any of this."
Varric chuckled again. "Don't worry. If I live through this, I'm going to write it all down. You can just throw a book at each family member's head until they believe you," he said. "Speaking of family - your accent. You're from the Free Marches?"
"Yes," she said, surprised. "From Ostwick."
"I've got some friends in Ostwick. What's your last name?" Varric asked thoughtfully.
"Trevelyan," she said idly, accepting Solas' hand as he helped her down a particularly steep embankment that was covered with an icy sheet of snow. The mage grunted as she stumbled a bit on the last step down and shouldered him. "Sorry!"
"It is fine," he assured her.
Cassandra had appeared suddenly, her arms crossed over her chest as she waited for Varric to make his way down the hill. "You belong to house Trevelyan?" she asked. "Are you a niece of the bann? His daughter?"
"His daughter," Margol confirmed as Varric finished descending the steep hill. Cassandra sighed, sounding irritated. "What? Are you some mortal enemy of the Trevelyans that I never knew about?"
"No," Cassandra said. "I am just wondering how we will explain this to your relatives if we survive this. I do not think Bann Trevelyan would be very happy to know that we held his daughter prisoner and she was almost assassinated... twice. Another headache for us to deal with."
"You're joking," Margol said incredulously. "People wanted to kill me before I even woke up? What kind of strange mountain folk do you have here that think it's okay to execute someone without a trial?"
"You haven't spent enough time in Fereldan," Solas said with a small chuckle.
"The Seeker here prevented anyone from making you kick the bucket, though," Varric said. "And Solas stopped the mark from killing you. An awful lot of people - and things - want to kill you. Are you sure you're not responsible for this?"
"I don't think so," Margol said, frowning slightly. And yet… she couldn't remember what had happened. She remembered running and she remembered a woman, but she didn't remember anything else. And before that, she only remembered being told she had been chosen to attend the Conclave… her journey to Haven was one giant blank space. "I… I hope not, at least."
"You could not be responsible," Solas assured her as they continued to crunch through the snow toward the forward camp. "My studies suggest-"
He was interrupted as Cassandra drew her sword, beginning to charge up a mountainside stone path toward a long bridge. "Another rift!" the Seeker cried. Margol lifted her eyes, following the trail up the small hill to see a familiar green-ish glow hovering just outside of the forward camp's gate. As the rogue followed Varric and Solas up the hill, she gasped in pain as her hand jerked, glowing green as she approached the rift.
The thrumming in her hand did not subside as they fought, cutting down the first demon wave and a second that followed. "Close the rift!" Cassandra yelled as she pulled her sword from the body of a demon with a sickening squelch, but she didn't need to; Margol was already lifting her palm high, letting a bolt of green light connect her palm and the rift. After a few seconds, she ripped her hand away, clenching her fist and watching the tear seal.
"You are becoming quite proficient at this," Solas observed, the air around the mage still shimmering from the effects of a spell.
"Yes, I'm really good at thrusting my hand… into the sky. Took years of training," she said breezily, making Cassandra make another one of her disapproving noises.
"It is hardly the time for sarcasm and humor," Cassandra said, waiting impatiently as some guards began to open the gate that covered their end of the long stone bridge. Once the heavy wooden doors had been opened, their small group of misfits proceeded to walk across the bridge toward the redhead Margol had met earlier and an angry-looking Chantry Chancellor.
"Her!" he spat as soon as they approached, lifting a finger to jab in her direction. "Guards! Arrest her! She must be taken to Val Royeaux for trial and execution at once!"
The soldiers lazily looked over at the area, but they did nothing. The redhead, Leliana, pursed her lips. "That is not your choice, Chancellor. Besides, we have more important things to worry about at the moment."
"Like this giant hole in the sky," Margol pointed out, thoroughly delighted when the Chancellor started to turn an angry shade of red once she began to speak so freely. "It does a lot of fun things, like spitting out demons and raining hellfire on us..."
"I object! I insist she be taken to Val Royeaux immediately! I refuse to allow this criminal to be taken back to the scene of the crime and-"
Cassandra held up a hand. "Leliana, what are our options?"
"Excuse me, your only option is to obey the chain of-"
"There is no chain of command anymore, Chancellor," Leliana said smoothly, and then spoke like she hadn't heard him interrupt. She kept her eyes on Cassandra, ignoring the noises of protest that the Chancellor was making. "We sent some scouts into the mountain pass to the temple. They have not returned."
"They are dead, then, and that route is unsafe."
"Perhaps not for you," Leliana said, turning to survey their small group. Margol almost shivered when the redhead's eyes passed over her; she felt like now Leliana would know all of her secrets just by glancing at her. "There might still be a chance the scouting party is alive and awaiting rescue."
"We cannot afford to delay," Cassandra said impatiently. "If we stand with the soldiers, our path is direct once the battle is over. The prisoner has been able to seal any rifts we have come across… she could be useful to Commander Cullen during the fight."
Margol shifted. "Whichever one you want to choose, we should probably choose it quickly," she said, nodding toward the Breach in the sky. "That thing's not getting any smaller."
Cassandra turned to Margol thoughtfully, looking as if she had almost forgotten the rogue was there. "What do… what do you think?" she asked. "Which route would you take?"
"Me? I'm the prisoner, remember? Are you okay? Did you get your head hit in that last battle?" Margol questioned, looking to Leliana incredulously. But Leliana said nothing, merely looked curious as she awaited Margol's answer. "Why are you asking me?"
"You do have the mark," Solas said quietly. "It is much your fight as it is ours."
"Hey, just enjoy the input," Varric advised. "I've been here for weeks and nobody's asked me for my opinion on anything yet. Savor it while you can because… well, you might be dead or in chains after all this is over."
"I…" she faltered, but suddenly the image of her father came into her head. Bann Trevelyan was a bushy-bearded man who had kind brown eyes, but he always seemed to do the right thing. Margol suddenly wished he was there with her, telling her what the best plan was. She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palm. "This mountain path, what's it like?"
Cassandra's eyebrows raised at Margol's sudden confident voice, but said nothing.
"It's through some old ruins. Ladders, caves, that sort of thing," Leliana supplied. "I believe there are enough hiding places that the scouts were simply delayed and are still alive. We cannot spare the manpower to attempt a rescue, so if you do not take the path…"
"If I don't take it, they're dead?" Margol guessed, biting her lip slightly as she thought. Scouting parties were small, quick, not built for fighting their way in and out of places. Soldiers, on the other hand, were usually well-trained… they would have a better chance of surviving any assault.
"Well?" Cassandra pressed.
"We'll take the mountain path, then. Your soldiers will be better equipped to handle the demons. If there's any chance that scouting party might be alive, awaiting rescue, I think we should take the path," Margol said. Leliana nodded, reaching to snatch a map from one of the tables and hand it to Margol. As she unrolled it, she saw just how long the mountain path was. "Is this going to be fast enough?"
"There are less demons this way," Cassandra said, looking displeased at Margol's choice. She said nothing about it, though, and only unsheathed her sword and raised her shield. "Let us waste no time, then."
They were off, ignoring the loud protests of the Chancellor, who was still trying to butt his way into their conversation. He seemed to be trying to follow the group through the other gate, too, but Leliana held his sleeve with a strong grasp.
"So…" Margol said as they began to climb a wooden ladder. "That guy seems like he really wants me dead."
"A sentiment shared by many," Cassandra said bluntly, which made Varric chuckle as he began to climb the ladder behind Margol. "As I said, there were a handful who thought they would take justice into their own hands and kill you while you were unconscious."
"Right. So if I don't get killed by some demon or die while trying to seal this Breach thing…"
"A regular person will try to do you in! Wonderful, isn't it?" Varric said cheerfully as they entered the ruins that ran along the mountain path. A few demons shimmered in from the shadows and Margol's green mark sparked in the darkness. "At least that thing lets us know when demons are around."
There were only two demons, hardly enough to make the four of them break a sweat. Margol found she was now a bit used to them; she no longer gaped at their forms or was scared of being touched by them or touching them. They could be killed, just like anything else.
"Does it hurt?" Solas asked once the casual battle was over. "I placed protective wards around it so it should not spread, but I was unsure about any numbing spells. I suppose you would need both hands for combat."
"Ideally, yes," Margol said, tucking her blades into their sheaths on her back. The small group ventured on into the dark and damp ruins, Varric and Cassandra carrying torches. "It doesn't… hurt exactly. It just feels… no, it doesn't hurt."
"Very eloquent," Varric said sarcastically, but with a grin on his face. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions while we're walking? You know, just in case I need a companion novel to Champion of Kirkwall."
"Varric, we do not have time for this. We are supposed to be focusing on-" Cassandra began, tongue clicking impatiently.
"Seeker, don't you want to question your prisoner now that she's conscious?" he asked. "Know why she was at the Conclave in the first place? You need this information. If she dies at the Breach, you're never going to know anything more besides the fact that she's a Trevelyan."
Cassandra frowned at Varric, glancing from the dwarf and then back to Margol. "Fine, Varric," she said finally, sounding irritated at herself that he had been able to bait her so easily. "Proceed if you must."
"Good," he said, grinning over at Margol. "Knew you'd see it my way."
"Alright," Margol said as they walked along some slimy, wet stones. "What do you want to know?"
"You're from Ostwick. Daughter of a bann. What the heck were you doing at the Conclave, anyway?"
"That's not a very exciting question," Margol said, disappointed. Solas chuckled softly to the rear of the group. "My family's very involved with the Chantry. They wanted to send a representative of the family to the Conclave. I kind of drew the short straw."
"And it's getting shorter by the minute, huh?" Varric asked, motioning to her hand which was beginning to faintly glow again.
"Exactly," Margol agreed with a sigh, drawing her daggers from their sheaths. "Though it could be shorter. I could be dead back with everyone else at the Conclave."
"You're an optimist," Solas stated as they lingered near him, watching his hands move in a flurry as he began to cast protective barriers on the party. It was strange how in such a short amount of time, they had already grown accustomed to letting Solas cast his spells before entering battle.
Margol shrugged as they rounded a corner, her hand spitting sparks and little green licks of flame. "I mean, I'm probably going to be dead by the end of this day, so I figured I might as well try to not completely hate the rest of my life."
Cassandra grunted as she whirled, kicking a demon squarely in the chest and sending it flying to the ground. "A commendable attitude," she yelled over the noise of squealing enemies. "I'm glad you were not resistant to helping us."
"I'm still not completely convinced I'm not dreaming and I think this hand-scar-mark is probably skewing my judgment, but… you're welcome," Margol said, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her shoulders ached as she lunged forward, sticking her daggers into one of the demons, who screamed one final time before falling to the stony ruin floor. "I hate to sound like a five year old, but are we almost there yet?"
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "You are the one with the map."
"You're also the one with an open head wound," Varric said, pointing to her temple, which had been struck by a dying demon during her first fight with the dwarf. "Solas?"
Margol lifted her hand to her head, feeling something warm and sticky cascading down her cheek. Apparently the wound she had sustained during her initial fight with Solas and Varric had reopened again. "I'm fine," she said, wiping her bloody hand on her clothes. "We should keep going."
"Yeah, well, we're keeping an eye on you. Don't go fainting on us or anything," Varric warned. "Don't forget we need that hand of yours. If you're unconscious, I think the Seeker over here might just cut it off and bring it with her."
"And then wear around her neck like a pendant?" Margol suggested with a laugh, accepting a handkerchief that Solas produced from… somewhere. She wiped the blood off of her face, taking a second to pass it over the rest of her face. "Should have kept the blood. Maybe all the demons would be scared of my grimy face and would just run back into the Fade."
Varric laughed lightly, then gestured to her face. "Didn't notice those scars before."
"Varric, we need to move. Everyone, we need to move," Cassandra reminded them with an impatient huff, grabbing her torch and motioning for them to continue through the ruins. "Every second we waste is a second that someone is dying for us."
"I'm going, I'm going," Varric said, the trace of laughter in his voice was gone. His face set into a steely grim expression and they did not speak anymore as they progressed through the ruined pathway.
It turned out that the scouting party had survived. Their leader yelled out in surprise as she saw the Seeker and the small group of scouts leapt into action, fighting a small herd of demons in tandem with Cassandra's own ragtag group.
"Thank you, thank you," the woman kept saying. "I thought no one would come for us."
"It was the prisoner's - Margol's - idea," Cassandra said lightly, then pointed to the ruins through which they had come. "The way back to the forward camp should be clear… at least for the moment. I suggest you gather your wounded and head that way quickly."
"Yes, Lady Cassandra," the woman said, pulling a wounded scout to his feet. "And thank you… Margol. I pray you will be able to heal the sky. Maker watch over you!"
And then she was gone, the rest of her group either limping behind or supporting one another as they began the long crawl back to the camp.
They traveled along in silence, which became tense as they finally approached the edge of the Conclave sight. Charred bodies littered the ground, their faces twisted into charcoal screams. Margol's heart thrummed strongly in her chest as she looked upon the thin, burnt bodies. Some were still smoking.
"This is where we found you," Cassandra said quietly. "This is where you walked out of the Fade."
"I don't… I don't remember any of this," Margol said, feeling her eyes beginning to prick. If anyone noticed, they said nothing, or perhaps thought it was because of the smoky air. "I don't remember… anyone."
"They said there was a woman behind you in the fade," Varric said as they walked, careful to not tread upon any of the fallen. Sooty dust rose with each crunchy step. "You didn't come here with anyone?"
"A woman? No, I…" Margol's mind flashed. Green light, dark ground, running. She had to get away, had to make it out, needed to be free - "I remember running. And then… I woke up in the dungeon."
"Hmm," Solas said thoughtfully. If he had any breakthrough with her story, he said nothing.
They rounded a corner of the ruined site, coming face to face with Leliana. "Cassandra! You made it. We thought you might… well. You are here," Leliana said, gesturing to the archers she had lined up along the outer shell of the ruin. "The rift is still as active as ever."
Margol stepped forward, craning her neck up at the hideous rip across the sky. "You want me to seal that?" she questioned. It had looked a lot smaller from way back near Haven. "How am I supposed to get up there? Do you have a plan for that?"
"This was the first rift to appear," Solas said, gesturing to a glowy green rip in the air at the center of the charred ruin. "If you seal this, perhaps it will also seal the Breach."
Everyone seemed to be looking at her, waiting for something. Margol turned, green eyes resting upon Cassandra's face. "Well," Margol said finally. "I suppose it's the best idea we have. I'll try my best."
"For the sake of Thedas, I hope your best is enough," Leliana said simply. "My archers await your orders, Cassandra."
"Tell them to stay pointed at the rift," Cassandra said. "Shoot anything that comes out."
Leliana gave a nod, then jogged off to spread the orders. Cassandra turned to the small group, looking for Varric to Solas and then finally to Margol. "Well," she said a bit awkwardly. "Here we are. I do not know what will emerge from the Breach, nor do I know if you will survive. Or if any of us will."
"Aw," Margol said with a tense smile. "So this might be goodbye. And to think, I didn't even get you anything. But, hey, if I do die - I'm giving you permission to cut off my hand and make it into a necklace. One final gift as a symbol of our deep and lasting friendship."
Varric chuckled at Cassandra's expression. "I really hope you survive, if only to keep the Seeker's face looking like that."
"I try to say one nice thing," Cassandra sniffed as they began their journey down into the center of the ruined temple. "And suddenly everyone feels the need to be funny."
"Watch your step," Solas warned suddenly, gesturing to what looked like a giant, glowing crystal.
Margol looked upon the tall crystal, which was thrumming with light and emitted heat. "What is that?" she questioned in awe, moving to get a closer look.
Varric's hand shot out to grab Margol's sleeve. "No! Don't touch it. Cassandra, this is… this is red lyrium."
"I see that, Varric."
"But what's it doing here?" he asked incredulously, carefully hopping over a small crystal that was jutting out of the ground as they walked.
Solas inspected the crystal closely, raising his hand near it but never quite making contact. "If there was lyrium underneath the temple originally, perhaps the Breach has reached it, corrupting it into red lyrium."
"What's red lyrium?" Margol asked as they began walking down the steps.
"It's evil. I'll explain later if I have the chance, just-" Varric was cut off by a loud, booming voice. The fine hair on the back of Margol's neck stood up and goosebumps began to raise along her forearms.
"Who is that?" Margol asked, her eyes searching for a source of the voice. "Is that coming from the rift?"
Another voice joined the first, this one a woman who was crying out for assistance. "That is Divine Justinia!"
Margol listened, watching the tear. It shimmered and shook and she could make out… faces? Yes, she could make out faces and then a scene played in her head, a woman captured and screaming for help, a terrible monster shouting, Margol was watching herself ask what was happening and then she could see nothing except for green light and-
The vision stopped. Cassandra turned to Margol, looking shocked with wide eyes. "That was you! The Divine called out for your help! She warned you, told you to leave her… but who was the other voice? What happened?"
"I - I don't remember!" Margol stammered. "What was that? A vision? Did anyone else-"
"We all saw it," Solas confirmed, looking up at the rift. The scene was replaying in the sliver of green light, though this time there was no more sound. He gestured to Margol's left hand, which had green flames jumping around it. "This rift was the first. Perhaps it is projecting memories of what occurred."
"Why aren't things falling out of it?" Varric asked, holding his crossbow defensively. "Demons, I mean."
"It is closed," the elven mage said, his eyes never leaving the rift. Green flames reflected in his pupils as he watched, his skin a ghostly green in the light. "But it's not sealed. You could use your mark to open it and then properly seal it once and for all."
"I can do that?" she questioned quietly, flexing her left hand. She stared at her palm, which had a peculiar fiery itching sensation. She looked up only to find that everyone was looking at her. "I'll try."
"We must reseal the rift as soon as we are able," Solas warned. "Demons will sense that another path into our world has opened. We must be ready for whatever comes and we must take care of them before Margol is able to reseal the tear."
"Okay. Open the rift, kill the demons, seal the rift. Got it," Margol said, reaching for her back to pull her daggers from their sheaths. She bounced on the balls of her feet, raising an eyebrow at the rest of her party. "Anything else?"
"Try not to die," Varric advised.
A smile curved across her tan face. "Naturally."
