Disclaimer: Dragon Age 2 characters belong to EA/BioWare; Legend of Korra characters are owned by Nickelodeon/ Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko.
Chapter I:
Vanishing Point
"Varric, do you know where the Champion is?"
"I wish I could help you, Seeker; but I have no idea of her whereabouts."
"Then answer this one last question: Is the Champion dead?"
"Oh, I doubt that. She's way too powerful to die that easily."
(Taken from the interrogation of Varric Tethras by the Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast. 9:40 Dragon)
The last days of 9:39 Dragon
"There's too many of them!"
Hawke heard her brother's cry through the damned shrieks of the abominations circling around them. She could not blame her brother's complaint, though. They had been fighting waves and waves of different kinds of enemies for hours: blood mages, demons, abominations, Templars, Starkhaven soldiers, bandits, assassins, bounty hunters, Andrastian zealots, even desperate peasants, and all other things were all against them. She took a deep breath and swung her bladed staff in front of her, causing an arc of ice to appear and impale all the incoming attackers. But no matter how many earth-shattering spells she conjured, the wall of enemies seemed to replace the hole she created—with more, stronger enemies.
"Let's retreat to that narrow canyon!" Hawke suggested to her brother, Carver, "Keep them from getting near me while I summon another Tempest!"
Carver smashed one of the assailant's head with the butt of his great sword and impaled its blade in the heart of another. "Do you have any other good ideas that don't involve me being bait?" he screamed.
The mage grinned, took something from her belt pouch, and threw a pair of vials filled with red liquid to his direction. "I hope that makes it worth your while!" she laughed as she slashed one of the demons in front of her.
The grey warden caught the pair of vials and immediately drank one of those. "Fine, just don't get me killed!"
"I know Spirit Healing; I can revive you if you like!" Hawke joked while they retreated to the narrow canyon east of them.
"That's not an assurance!"
As they ran through the vermillion-colored mountains, Hawke noticed an unusual stream of light circling around the bitter skies. Soon enough, a bright beam of light from above dispersed the clouds, creating a huge hole in the sky. But after that, malevolent-looking spirits flew out of the hole and spread towards the horizon; and the last of them to come out was a monstrous, black-scaled dragon that perched on the peak of the mountain, mouthing out growls and black flame, as if encouraging more spirits to come out of the hole.
Hawke frowned upon seeing the parade of dark elements. "Here I thought that I'm going to get some help from above!"
"Can you just concentrate on going to the canyon instead of—whoa!" Carver's sentence stopped when the ground shook violently. The great earthen walls on either side of them trembled, causing some giant boulders to crash down to their direction.
"Watch out!" Hawke rushed in front of her younger brother. Collecting all the mana inside her; the mage focused in forming a strong energy burst. She took a deep breath and waited for the perfect moment to release the energy. She moved her hand slowly to the side and as the boulders tumbled down on them. "Grrraahhh!" she roared as she released the telekinetic burst by swinging her arms to the other side, wiping the boulders from their path and sent those flying to the other side.
After finishing the act, Hawke's vision swam and she almost lost her balance, were it not for those two, strong arms that caught her mid-air.
"Thanks, Carver," Hawke grinned as she drank another huge vial full of glowing, sky blue liquid.
Her brother helped her to stand up. "Let's just thank each other when we're out of this mess," he said and pointed to the hordes of enemies in front of her.
"You're such a drag," Hawke put on a comical frown. She looked around and saw that the passage in front of them was narrow enough to funnel out the enemies in front of them. Gesturing her brother to follow her, the advanced through the narrow passageway and positioned themselves a few feet away from the other end of the passage. "Show them the worst side of your attitude, Junior!" the mage laughed as she started to prepare herself.
"A very funny joke, sister," the grey warden mumbled as he raised his great sword.
In a little while, bolts of lightning started to appear around the mage. A dark mass of clouds suddenly moved towards the charging horde of demons. With a great deal of concentration Hawke raised her hands up to the sky as more lightning bolts appeared around the area. When the appearance of those bolts became more frequent, Hawke grabbed her staff, spun it and struck the bladed end of her staff on the ground.
A concerto of lightning bolts ensued, striking everyone and thing on its path. Some the enemies were struck down but most of them shrugged the damage and continued charging towards the siblings. They were soon met by the Grey Warden's great sword as he swatted the demons away from them.
"So what's next?" Carver said while battling a Shade demon.
Hawke casted Elemental Weapons magic before answering. "Well, I have no idea..."
"What!"
"Just kidding!" Hawke laughed as she threw a fireball at one of the demons, "We're going to push north to Tevinter's border. The Circle Mages there have regrouped and tried to plan another offensive against the Templars. We'll try to help them the best that we can. Let's just hope that Anders will be also there; I heard Ferelden has Templar problems along with demon problems!"
Carver gritted his teeth as he decapitated one of the blood mages. "Why did you agree to meet with that traitorous abomination anyway?"
The mage threw a dirty look at her brother. "Because he's fellow mage and a friend—that's why!"
"After what he did to you?"
"Yes!" Hawke screamed while giving a roundhouse kick to a nearby desire demon, "At least he's more honest with his convictions unlike that Choir-Boy Prince!"
"Whatever you say, sister," Carver shook his head hopelessly, "Let's just move to the east of here, I can see an old fort over there."
After summoning another Inferno to separate them from their enemies, the siblings retreated towards an eerie-looking building. If they could judge its appearance, they could say that it was an old Tevinter fortress standing in the middle of nowhere. Signs of its age clearly etched the history on its moss-invaded stone walls. But they could see that it had withstood well the test of time. A pair of humanoid stone statues, with their heads cut-off, stood on either side of a large arch that led up to the massive, wooden double door in front of them.
Instinctively, they rounded up the whole area to find other hostilities. The fortress was protected by supposedly natural mountains, leaving only one canyon to be the exit to the area. Other than the fortress, broken-down stone columns and massive fossils of dead creatures littered around the place, leaving the impression that it was once a battlefield that had seen a gruesome bloodbath.
"I guess the coast is clear," Hawke wiped the sweat off her forehead; "Maybe we should go inside the fort and see what we can get there."
"A lot more of mummified undead, insane mages, or abominations: that's what we're going to find inside," Carver replied.
Hawke pouted. "What is wrong with you, old man? Do your dry, aching bones bother you again?"
Carver's fangs showed. "Why can't you just stay serious for a moment?" he growled, "We are out here, running for our lives, and what you can think about is what you can salvage from some Maker-damned building!"
"Do you know how we survived in this battlefield for weeks? Oh right: we took supplies from dead people or from abandoned structures!" Hawke rolled her eyes, "Stop being such a pussy, little brother; there's nothing we can't handle as long as we're working together."
"I'm not being a pussy!"
"Oh yes you are!" Hawke crossed her arms, "Because that reaction definitely didn't come from the chip on your shoulder!"
As Carver's face grew more agitated, Hawke could not stop herself from laughing. She had always expected her brother to be more mature after joining the Grey Wardens. Carver had always been acting like a spoiled, cranky old man ranting about mages and their magic. Surprising that the rigorous Grey Warden training did not straighten him out completely, she thought.
Hawke waved her hand in the air to ward-off the tension. "Alright, alright, if you say so," she said as she head towards the massive door, "But I'm coming inside to get some potions. You can stay here with the incoming horde of demons if you like."
She heard a grunt behind her. "I'm not letting you go inside alone," Carver said in a forced tone, "Trouble has a strange attraction to you."
The mage grinned and gave her brother a light punch in the arm. "I'm glad you know that!"
Hawke and her brother walked towards the huge wooden door. Surprisingly, the door was slightly open, allowing a human being to slip through inside without difficulty. Upon entering, darkness greeted them, along with the hollow sound that came from the top of the staircase in front of them. Carver took up a nearby dry branch and Hawke lit it up with a fire magic spell. Although the small flame did not illuminate the whole, cavernous entrance, it was enough to illuminate a slightly-raised panel above the ground which was, presumably, a trap set a few blocks away from them. The Grey Warden signaled his companion that he would go first, which the mage happily obliged.
Sidestepping, Carver managed to evade the illusive trap, only to get caught in a white, thin threads hanging on the wall. Caught unaware, the warden gave a shout and fell on his back, accidentally pressing the panel beside him.
A burst of flames suddenly sprayed from both sides of the walls. It almost burnt him to crisp were it not for Hawke's Arcane Shield-Wall that protected him from its harmful effects. The spray lasted for a couple of minutes until it died out, leaving them again in darkness.
"Looks like we're not welcome here," the Grey Warden grunted as he tried to wipe off the cobwebs sticking on his face.
"Well, no one really likes trespassers in the first place. Or maybe they put up these things to discourage the tax collectors? Why not both?" Hawke laughed and lit up another makeshift torch, "No use sitting around here and getting all wrapped up in cobwebs. Let's try the upstairs first."
Carver struggled to get on to his feet and followed his sister towards the stone staircase.
.
.
.
"Thousands of rooms—with nothing to spare but rocks and ashes!" Hawke wailed as they landed on the topmost floor of the fortress, "What kind of place is this: a fortress for ghosts?"
"And we just fatigued ourselves for nothing," Carver panted, "I can't believe how heavy this Grey Warden armor can be!"
"What's that, Carver? You're just 28 years old, and you're feeling tired already?" Hawke laughed, "Can't believe you can't carry your suit of armor all the way up here."
"Says the one who wears weird clothes..."
Hawke gasped. "SAY WHAT?" she put her hands on her hips with her legs slightly parted from each other, "This weird clothes you are talking about here, Serah, is the glorious Mantle of the Champion of Kirkwall—and I wear it with HONOR! Not that I like being Kirkwall's number one errand girl; but still, this outfit looks fabulous!"
"Looks like you are still basking yourself under the glory of a faded title," an old, familiar voice cackled.
In an instant, Hawke felt a chilling sensation in her spine. The air that once tasted bitter ashes now became rotten. A strange aura filled the room—a dark, forbidding aura that she had once felt deep in the Warden's Prison. She readied her spear-like staff and looked around. Dozens of crates and broken artifacts covered with dirty white translucent cloth filled the walls. The huge hole on the roof barely illuminated the specks of dust flying around the spacious attic. She was sure she heard and felt something, where was it hiding?
Carver's voice halted her thoughts. "Sister, is that Larius, the Grey Warden?"
Hawke looked at the direction where her brother was pointing. She could see a huge, ancient-looking mirror that could no longer give a decent reflection because of its dust. Straining her eyes, she saw a shadow emerged behind the great mirror. Judging from the outline of the body, she could tell that it was that half-insane Warden-Commander they had met in that cursed prison.
"Well, this is a sight for sore eyes," Hawke lowered her guard, "So what's brings an esteemed Warden-Commander-back-from-his-Calling in a run-down place like this?"
Larius gave an empty, ethereal laugh. "Oh, nothing much, Hawke. I am merely relishing my newfound freedom after being tortured by the voice of the darkspawn for ages," he sighed dreamily, "Freedom that you gave me years ago. To that, my friend, I am very grateful."
She cracked a smile. "That's the Champion of Kirkwall for you, messere Larius," Hawke bowed, "Always rescuing hopelessly locked up people in the pits of their misery-while leaving a trail of dead bodies along the way."
"Ah yes, yes, you cannot achieve your goal without bloodshed," the old Warden-Commander nodded while slowly walking towards her, "I am still new to this world that I am now living. But I will never experience this freedom without your help. The voices of the darkspawn no longer bother me and I am free to go where ever I wish. Ah, not to mention that having this body feels so... refreshing..."
Hawke could swear to herself that meeting old acquaintances was one of the happiest things that could happen to her life; second to having a holiday, even just for one week, without having to meet a crazy blood mage along the way. But why the current meeting felt so, wrong? She knew that Larius was a Grey Warden with some...problems, yet it felt like she was meeting a wholly different person.
She casually looked at her brother at the corner of her eye. Judging from his facial expression, something was not really right. His distorted expression, as if he was being tortured from the inside, bothered her. The scene reminded her of Anders being tortured by the voices in the taint while they were going to vanquish that old evil being. She looked again at Larius, who was now being illuminated by the hole on the roof. His sinister smile was all she needed to ready herself.
Suddenly, Larius stopped walking and faced her brother. "Why, Hawke, your brother doesn't look so well," he whispered and turned his eyes on her, "And why do you look so...agitated?"
"Sister...don't listen to him..." Carver cried out while clinging on his great sword, "He's...he's... that person! The voices of the darkspawn... it's calling me!"
Hawke clenched her teeth. "Well, this is quite bothersome…I never thought that there can be an undead darkspawn!"
The former Warden-Commander smirked and spread out his arms wide open. "You are naive, little Hawke. Do you think those weak tools of yours can vanquish a faithful servant of Dumat?" he said, "The darkness we have seen in the Fade—no—that is not we seek. What we search for is the golden light. Now I have returned to seek what the Old God had promised: I shall find the Golden City—the seat of the gods! And you—you are the only ones who can bring me back to those shackles! And I—the great magister, Corypheus—will never allow that to happen! DUMAT, GRANT ME YOUR POWERS!"
"Not happening!" Hawke said and threw a spirit bolt at the magister. The white bolt darted towards the magister but, to her surprise, the attack went right through him and towards the mirror. Hawke expected for the mirror to crash but instead, the surface of the mirror seemed to absorb the bolt, leaving a few ripples behind. "Andraste's flaming ass! What just happened?"
"Ah, so you have noticed that mysterious artifact already," Corypheus smiled as he slowly raised up his hand towards them, "In the days of Arlathan, the elves call it as the Eluvian: a powerful gateway that they have used for communication. Who knows what other secrets this mirror possesses? Do not worry where it leads you—for you will know it soon enough. And I assure you, that you can never return to this place forever"
Hawke suddenly felt a strong invisible grip that plucked her off the ground. She tried to dispel whatever magic he was casting but she could not even move her arms. "Carver!" she called out. But her brother was also suffering the same fate. She squirmed and twisted her body but it was all useless. This will be the worst kind of death for a Champion, she thought. But she didn't mind if she would be the only one to get killed. No one would really care about a death of a mage—especially if it was someone who just caused a fully-blown, wide-scale, magical war.
"Sister, help me!" Carver cried.
No, not Carver! She promised her mother that she would look out for him—the only family she had after all the things that happened to her in Kirkwall. After he realized his dream to get out of her shadow, now he would suffer a senseless death? He had once written to her that he would soon do something great while he was in the Grey Wardens. There was no way she could allow this rotten magister to finish off his dream!
Hawke closed her eyes and tried to think. Her father was the one to tell her everything she knew about magic. What would he do in this situation? Her father would have done everything—including the forbidden blood magic—to save his family. But after she had seen how a blood mage murdered her beloved mother, could she ever consider that option?
"You have only managed to humiliate me with defeat once when I was weak. But now, you shall face the wrath of a magister!"
. . .
Summer of 169 ASC
"Coast is clear, General!"
Iroh smiled. "Thank you for your report," he said, "You may now call for the second shift to relieve your position."
The United Forces marine saluted. "Thank you, sir!" he said, "If I may ask: Aren't you going to return to your cabin, sir? The men here can handle the situation while we are going to the Fire Nation's capital."
The young general shook his head. "I'm fine, Colonel. Thank you for your concern. I'd rather stay here instead of bunking down early."
The soldier nodded his head and did another quick salute before exiting the bridge. Iroh breathed a sigh of relief and focused again on the horizon. The colors of the sea and the sky blended well with each other as they met at the place where the world vanishes. It was actually funny that they were greeted by a peaceful, cloudless sky; despite the fact that the sailors warned that the sky was red that morning. That kind of phenomenon would usually drive those people mad because of the belief that a storm would surely come that day, or so he was told.
Then, why would he waste a beautiful weather by staying inside a crowded, cramped, and hot box?
Smoothing out his uniform, Iroh turned at the helmsman. "I'll just be on the lookouts. Call me if something happens."
The helmsman saluted. "Yes sir. Estimated time of arrival on Fire Nation Capital will be in five and a half hours."
Iroh nodded and headed for the trap door leading to the eastern lookout. It was just one of those days where there was nothing to do except routine missions. Not that he was wishing for a war to blow up somewhere; but the deadness of a routine mission could prove that he was nothing but somebody who could stand pretty all day. He was a general, not a poster boy; although that was what most of the people thought of him especially this recruitment season. They just wanted to join the forces just to meet the legendary and former firelord, Zuko's grandson.
And he hated it...he wanted to be known as Iroh, general of the United Forces, not just a descendant of Zuko's.
Two mild punches on the trap door and it flew open, letting in the bright mid-morning light inside of the dark passageway. Smiling, the general climbed up the lookout, closed the trap door behind him, and breathed a fresh, ocean-scented air. The way the sea glittered under the bright morning sun fascinated him. He had first known those natural descriptions from the stories from his grandfather, who would tell him his adventures while sitting on the back of Avatar Aang's flying sky bison. His grandfather's stories always left him in wonder, only wishing that he himself could grow up so fast to see the things his grandfather had seen. But now, he could experience those things himself; even though he was riding on a battleship, not a sky bison.
Iroh straightened his posture and inhaled all the fresh air he could take. Years already had passed since he was enlisted to the United Forces and became the general shortly afterwards; yet these simple things never failed to put him in humble awe. Strands of cotton-like clouds moved to the east by a cool gentle gust of wind, forming silvery pictures on a soft blue canvas. Flocks of seagulls soared past the battleship, forming a V-formation heading towards northeast of their direction.
As his eyes followed the group of birds, he saw a huge, rock grey cloud appeared out of nowhere. "Is that a storm cloud?" He said while slightly leaning on the rails to get a closer look. While the cloud loomed on the northeastern part of the sea, lightning flashed inside the clouds, followed by a strong rumbling that distorted the flock's flying coordination. "This is bad," Iroh shook his head and headed for the trapdoor.
CRASH!
Iroh cringed at the ear-piercing sound behind him. Looking behind him, he saw a shining beam of light coming from the dark mass of clouds. "What is that?" he wondered. The longer he gazed at the beam of light, the larger it would get. By the time he realized what was happening, the ground underneath him shook violently, causing him to lose his balance. He grabbed at the railing with one hand and produced a burst of fire to prevent him from getting thrown away from the ship completely. Climbing back up, he saw a great trail of black cloud tearing from the front deck going to the midsection of the ship. Gritting his teeth, Iroh forced the trapdoor open, slid down through the ladder and made his way towards the bridge.
The general slammed the door and rushed towards the intercom. "All ships to stand by and look for any hostile activity," he commanded, "All engineers and repairmen available: go to the front deck and assess the damage. I need that damage report A.S.A.P. Waterbenders: put out the fire in the ship. Firebenders and earthbenders: man your stations and prepare for a long-range attack if necessary. The rest of the soldiers: grab your weapons and head for the front deck and be prepared for any hostiles. Just stay on your guard and do not initiate an offense until I arrive. Now go!"
Iroh inhaled some stale, bridge air before turning his attention to the people inside the bridge. "Keep your eyes peeled and alert me of any incoming ships."
"Yes sir!"
The young general nodded and dashed towards the front deck. The way towards front deck was encumbering as clouds of smoke filled the narrow air vents and filled the hallway as well. The nearer he got to the front deck, the thicker the smoke came covered his way. Covering his nose with a handkerchief, Iroh pushed his way through the smoke until he reached the door towards his destination.
AAARRRGGHHH! A blood-curdling scream filled his ears as soon as he opened the heavy metal door. Bracing for the worst, Iroh found the foot soldiers slowly backing away from the front deck. Their eyes were looking at something with their trembling hands gripping their spears.
"What happened?" Iroh asked one of the nearby soldiers.
"It-it's not human!" the soldier cried and bolted away from the scene.
"Not human?" Iroh repeated while making his way towards the torn midsection of the ship. Amidst the trembling group, he found a group waterbenders, readying their water whips, steeling themselves in front of an unknown threat. He took another step and suddenly, a sharp yet forbidding smell came to his nose. The scent became stronger that it almost made him throw up his breakfast. Ignoring the urge to vomit, Iroh gently pushed his way towards the waterbenders.
"General, please stay back; It's too dangerous!" one of the best and oldest waterbenders called out without looking at him, "This must be a powerful evil spirit...It isn't just bloodbending!"
The last words rang clear in the general's ears. He slowly turned his head towards the center of attraction. His heart almost stopped beating as he saw one of his men being slightly lifted from the ground. He could see sick dark crimson liquid flowing out of the eyes, ears, and nose of the soldier, going towards a creature enveloped in menacing red and black aura. The man helplessly whimpered, as if calling out for his help as the creature took its time to drain the life out of him.
In an instant, Iroh shot out a fireball towards the creature. But the fire was swept away by a quick lash of its staff. The creature seemed unharmed but its control of the man disappeared and the poor victim dropped on the ground but was promptly assisted by the healing waterbenders. Dark aura around the humanoid spirit slightly trembled as it faced the general.
Iroh took his fighting stance as he looked on its red glowing eyes. "Who are you?" he asked.
The creature stood still, with its gaze boring through his. "They call me: Hawke."
A/N: This is the edited version of the story. I did this because I didn't like how the old one turned out. So is the updated version better? I really like to know what you think!