"If you have any idea where we are, now would be a great time to speak up." The words bounced off of the hard stone and back the way they came, dying in the chilly air without ever having carried more than a few steps. Sputtering candles flickered as two shadows slid past, footsteps of vibration rather than sound. Something long caught the light and gleamed, but was quickly covered in shadows again.
"We should get back to the main room," a second voice hissed back. There was a flash of green in the corner. "We're missing the outcome."
"You're right, we should go back; but, alas, we are lost." A person stepped into the light, looking around with narrow eyes. The dark seemed to cling on the legs and feet, the candle dimming slightly. "I'm sure the Keeper will be most annoyed with us upon our return."
A pair of emerald eyes blinked slowly in front of the first figure. The candle flickered, and a second shadowy figure went to stand next to the other. "I think... it's that way?" A hand gestured vaguely to the hallway on the right. With a sigh, they both turned right, the shadows swallowing them.
"We are so far away from the main room," the first voice grumbled. "It's all gloomy here, and we've been walking for half an hour."
There was a sudden crash, and the air itself seemed to pause. The two intruders held their breath, a pair of dark eyes glancing over to a pair of wide green ones.
"... that wasn't me."
"I didn't cause it, either."
They both stared at each other for another minute, half-hidden in the shadows. Nervously glancing around, they tugged their hoods down to see better. A ways down the hall, a door opened just a crack and streak of pale green light lit up a wall. Two heads turned towards it immediately.
Slowly, achingly slowly they took a step forwards, both at the same time and leading with their left foot. It was as if they stepped out of a door: sudden cold hit them, making them shiver. One let out a breath of surprise, and they both blinked in surprise at the cloud of fog that formed.
"Keep the sacrifice still." A voice echoed from the door, seeming to vibrate through their very bones and instill a deep feeling of fear and disgust. The light from the behind the door grew brighter
"Someone, help me!" A woman screamed.
One of the intruders went into a sprint towards the door, prompting the other to follow. Scrabbling on the frosted floor as they stopped, the door was thrown open.
"What's going on here?!"
"Holy-!"
It was a towering monstrosity, body twisted into a mockery of a man's. Angry glowing red shards protruded from its body, further deforming it. It's proportions were wrong, its face- was that embedded into his skull? The enraged creature turned to them, revealing a woman in a chantry outfit to be dangling in the air in front of him. It was holding, clutched in its disfigured hand, a glowing ball that as creating the light from the hallway.
This was, altogether, a very unusual experience.
The woman in the air looked startled, but then her face became determined. She lashed out, and the orb was hit out of the creature's hand and flew across the room in a surprising show of force. Startled, the two intruders reached out their hands in a net-like fashion and caught the ball between them. The disfigured monster-person let out a cry of rage, lunging towards them as the ball lit up even brighter. The doors on the other side of the room burst open just as the ball seemed to explode.
There was a burst of color, and a high-pitched ringing noise. The Fade buckled in on itself.
Divine Justinia groaned in pain as she leaned against one of her saviors. The red-headed elf didn't seem to mind the weight she was putting on him, diligently shuffling forwards and bringing them ever closer to the blinding light at the top of a seemingly unclimbable hill. The other elf, the one with the dark hair, was behind them, fighting off the demon-spiders with the young mage who was unfortunate enough to run into the room right at the end.
Or, rather- fortunate for him, really, the red-headed elf with the bright green eyes stated, since it is very possible he would have been killed otherwise. He said this in a very calm manner, gently lifting the withered elderly lady over a particularly tall rock formation. The pointed edges had snagged on his pants as he carefully stepped over it, and it was a wonder the group was making such good time considering how careful the elf was with her.
The two elves were rather apologetic once they found out who she was, apologizing for potentially putting her in danger. After she waved them off and informed them sternly that they probably saved her life, they apologized for spying on her conclave. But seeing as even Qunari and Dwarves were there to see the outcome as well, she waved that off as well. Then they seemed to have it in their mind that they had hurt her, because she was obviously in pain.
She didn't have the heart to tell them about the vile magic used against her, so let them fuss over her and have the red-headed one become her walking-stick. They also didn't seem to want to talk about the glowing green gashes on their hands were they had caught the orb, a testament to how the magic affected them as well.
"I really hope that's a way out," the young man growled, walking fast to catch up with the hobbled dou. "There aren't any spider right now and I really want to go before that changes."
"It'll be a way out, I'm sure," the dark haired elf says reassuringly, coming up on the other side. "There can't be many other reasons for a glowing rip in the sky the same color of the freaky-magic we saw."
"Your technical terms are so complex; I can't understand a word you say," the red-haired elf drawled. "You use such big words- like 'the'."
"You're a horrible brother," the other elf returned, making Justinia smile despite the situation.
"You're a terrible sister."
"Wait, you're a girl?!" The man said, causing the dark-haired elf to look offended.
"Oh my," Divine Justinia said in amusement. "Honestly, what has the circle been teaching you, young man?"
The man blushed, sputtering. The others laughed at the face he made, Justinia thought that maybe- just maybe, they all could get out of this alive. The fear in the group faded away at the stubborn insistence of the two mysterious elves. They didn't see any more spiders as they continued climbing the hill.
"My name's Percy Trevelyan." The young mage said at about three-fourths of the way to the top. "Just thought you should know," He mumbled afterwards. There was an awkward moment between them, and for a second there was a chittering of a demon-spider.
"My name is Lin," the red-haired elf finally said, causing the Divine to hum in a questioning lit.
"I'm Banal'ras," the she-elf offered next. "You have permission to just call me Banal, however."
"Now why didn't you young people introduce yourself the same time I did?" Justinia huffed, but there was no ire behind it.
"Maybe we were just overwhelmed with being in the presence of the great Divine," the mage grumbled, sounding bitter. Divine Justinia frowned at this, looking sad and drawn. The two elves sighed.
"Don't you love how life-threatening situations bring people together?" Lin said in false cheer.
"Feel the love!" The two elves laughed, and Percy tried to scowl but couldn't manage it.
Percy was still trying to look angry when the hill leveled off and the large glowing sky-rip was just within reach. The elves looked confident and so sure that this as the way out, even when they clutched the 'magicked' hand to their chest, that the two humans were sure this would be the last of the warped world they saw.
"Ladies first," The re- Lin said, guiding the Divine forwards with a cheeky little smile. "Or would you rather the big, strong mage be there to catch you on the other side?"
"I'll just go," Percy growled, stalking forwards and pushing past them. He turned a baleful eyes at the three, and huffed. "I'll be on the other side, to-" The words stuck and he made a face- "catch the Divine." Looking like we was being asked to bathe in mud, he stepped through the Sky-rip.
It was like stepping through a doorway to the real world, he would later reflect. The rip in the sky had a distance of a hand-span that he stepped across, and the world past it was solid and normal. Wide-eyed, he spun around to shout to the others that, indeed, it was a way out. The words stuck in his throat when all he could see was a warped green tear, nothing on the other side.
"Wh-what?" He whispered in confusion, staring at it. Some sort of twisted magic flowed off of it in waves, the same as on the hands of the elves; but it seemed different, more dormant. He blinked back tears, hoping, praying to the Maker, to Andraste, to anyone, that it hadn't closed behind him.
Then a hand reached out through the green; a pale wrinkled hand, grasping the air. Excited, he reached forwards and grabbed it, pulling Divine Justinia through. She made an exclamation of surprise as he laughed, catching her before she fell. "Those damn elves were right!" He crowed, giving her a bear hug. "We made it out!" He laughed, a full belly-ache laughed that left his gasping and wheezing and had the Divine laughing along with him. "Maker, Maker, but we made it out!"
"Wha-!" One of the elves tumbled out of the rip face-first, landing in a sprawled heap. Percy startled, stepping away from Justinia. The Rip fluctuated wildly, starting to shrink- it was closing, oh Maker!
"Wait, the rip, it's-!" Percy moved forwards suddenly, almost tripping over the elf, because he had to reach it in time, what about the other elf? There were two elves went in, two had to go out! After all that confidence and helping him along, he couldn't be out here when there was one still stuck! "Wait! Wait!"
There was a sound like a ripping leather, and for just a moment the Sky-rip stabilized. He held his breath, anxious; something barrelled into him, knocking him backwards. A heavy weight was on his chest, and through the sharp pain and the daze he could see the rip closing, fade-spiders swarming on the otherside. Struggling to breathe, he lifted his head off the ground to get a look at the elf that was sprawled on top of him. She was out cold, like her brother.
He let out a weak relieved laugh, letting his head fall back. As the blackness closed around him, he could distantly hear the sound of armoured feet running. A face, pale and glowing, hovered over him in a perpetual state of worry. An angel, he thought blearily.
Lin woke up screaming. His back had arched clean off the floor, his eyes popping open at the same time as his mouth and he let out a sound as if his very soul was being ripped from his body. Banal'ras felt it a millisecond after he did, the spiking pain that suddenly gripped her arm and traveled up as quickly as lightning. Her vision turned white as the agony spiked, only to fade abruptly to a painful throb in her palm. She was gasping at the end, curled up in little ball on her side. Banal didn't know if she screamed or not.
The men guarding them didn't react past the instinctive flinch; their swords remained steadily pointed at them. It was highly sceptical whether they realised that the way they were holding it made it easy to get past. She tried to keep her mind away from the pain by thinking of ways to escape.
Finally, after many minutes, the pain in her hand became much less crippling. She was able to relax and even out her breath. Lin stirred next to her, shooting closer to her body heat.
"Ouch," he whispered half-heartedly. It didn't even begin to cover the feeling. Banal made a sound of agreement and curled around her own hand. "Hey, my hand glows."
"Very acute observation," she mumbled, squeezing her eyes closed. There was something wrong; something was different, and she didn't know what it was. It wasn't just the glowing, painful magic on her hand, or the strange surroundings they woke up in. There was something else, something…
She pushed the thought to one side when she heard someone coming. Banal didn't bother to inform Lin; he would know the second he did. She sat up quickly, but not quickly enough to cause more pain or create a change in blood-pressure. Lin didn't bother, instead curling around her like a cat, his belly pressed against her back and keeping her propped up.
The door opened with a loud bang as it bounced off the wall, and in stormed a woman with dark hair and angry eyes. Behind her came another woman, all cloaked with a hood over her head. - Which reminded Banal, where was her own cowl? - The dark-haired human circled them like a predator, a sneer on her face.
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you both now. The Divine is unresponsive, the Conclave destroyed."
This was a start of a terrible day, Banal'ras could tell. Vaguely, in the back of her head, she could feel Lin's agreement.
And as they were led outside, wrists bound and stumbling like newborn foals, she realised exactly what was so very different. Wide eyes turned to her brother, whose face matched her own. And it wasn't because of the 'Breach,' though that was a large part of it. They didn't say anything, just shuffled closer to each other.
The human woman wanted her help, in what might be a last-ditch effort to close the gapping hole in the sky. Lin would help. Of course he would. And if he did, Banal'ras would as well. The humans didn't even have to ask. They had only to look at the elves faces to know the answer. But they did not look, and asked instead. Warriors are stupid.
Lin found great amusement in her opinion on warriors, she could tell. Later, when he hefted his sword and shield and stuck down the demon, he tauntingly said "Still think warriors are stupid?"
Yes. She had to kill a demon that was about to bite him. Honestly, couldn't warriors be more careful?
"Quickly, before more come through!"
Banal'ras yelped as the magic in her palm suddenly became agitated. Her daggers slipped from her hands as she bent over slightly, clutching the offending appendage to her chest. She felt from it surprise, anger, fear- Lin looked like a startled deer, standing there with the mage lifting his hand to the sky-rip.
The rip collapsed on itself, bringing with it an end to the worst of her pain. She blinked a few times, then carefully picked up her weapons. No one had noticed her, too enamored with the closing of the sky-rip. Lin was amazed also, but to look at his face one couldn't tell unless you knew him very well.
"It seems you hold the key to our salvation."
Oh, that didn't sound good. No, no, her brother wasn't- couldn't be the key to anything. He couldn't be important; important people were villainized and killed. With narrowed eyes, Banal'ras stepped into the shadows and disappeared from sight.
The dwarf with the crossbow introduced himself as Varric, the "Rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong."
"Are you with the Chantry, or…?"
The dwarf said he was a prisoner, and Cassandra said he wasn't anymore. He must be important, if he had been brought to speak to the Divine. And perhaps dangerous; they were all potentially dangerous. Especially to her brother, be being an 'important' person who was 'key.' And this- what did he introduce himself as?- this Solas, he was especially dangerous; she didn't know why he was, but she did know he was.
"Was there not two of you?" The mage, Solas, asked in a benign manner. There was an instant stillness from the others, while Lin furrowed his brows in confusion and looked over his shoulder.
"She ran?!" Cassandra demanded loudly, clenching her fists and looking like she might hit someone. Varric, being the closest, put his hands up in a placating manner and backed up with a nervous laugh. Solas watched.
That might be how he's dangerous, Banal'ras rationalized as Lin let out a sharp whistle. She obediently stepped out of the shadows, materialising at his side as she darkness fell away. Cassandra immediately looked less angry, but her face did wrinkle in distaste.
"I'm not a dog," Banal hissed quietly at her brother.
"Woof," Lin said in a sarcastic answer, raising his eyebrows.
And later they would stand together, order the army to work together. They would remind them the stakes, they would take control, they would save the scouts, and they would close the breach. They would do it together.
"It would appear that the Mark upon their hand has affected them both negatively upon the stabilizing of the Breach." Solas said diplomatically. In truth, his spell told him nothing and only the minor connection to the ancient magic allowed him to know anything. The force of the Breach had raced from one elf to the other, the magic balancing between them; in this way, enough magic was taken in between them that it would have killed any one person. The connection between them was an amazing work of art, an astounding piece of magic that had a million in one chance to form. Lifting the male's hand to look at his palm, Solas wondered what else the Orb had gifted them with.
"The Breach is stable," Cassandra said warily, watching the elven mage stare intently at the Mark, "and a bit smaller. However, it still needs closed. When will they awaken?"
But Solas shook his head. "I would not know
, Seeker."
Cassandra made an irritated noise, looking as if she might hit someone. Solas ducked his head slightly and tried to focus on the feeling of the magic.
It was like a constant connection between them, a balancing act to keep the entire thing from imploding while simultaneously exploding. Mana flowed from one to the other in a stream, and he was sure if he could just get access to that mana he would be able to learn much more about the state of the two "saviors" and of the Anchor itself. However, he could not do anything right now. Rolling his tongue in his mouth in irritation, he glanced at Seeker Cassandra from the corner of his eye.
It made sense they wouldn't leave him alone with the Anchor; after all, he didn't even know their… .
"What are they called?" He asked politely, setting down the hand as gently as he could. His fingers are warm from the fever when he lets go.
"We don't know."
For some reason, that didn't sit well with him. And so he curses his lack of ability to fix this, he curses the two elves for stumbling into the heart of his plan. He curses the Seeker for not allowing him to properly study the Anchor, and he curses himself for not even asking for a name.
Then Adan comes in, his arms full of different concoctions, and forces both of them out.
"Let's keep her!" Banal squealed, throwing her arms around Sera. "Please Cassandra, please?" Lin made an appropriate noise of agreement, but didn't hug the archer due to the glare she was giving him.
"Well, this whole bit decided to go tits-up, yeah?" Sera said wisely. "Didn't think one of those big-headed pansies was all cuddly. Like a little rabbit." The archer let out a snorting laugh, squirming a bit. Banal stiffened, her eyes widening; Cassandra tensed, hand on her weapon, and Lin went very still.
"D-did you just cop a feel?" Banal asked, flabberghasted. She took a step back, covering her chest.
"Well what else am I supposed to do with your boobs in my face? Weird, you are. Nice melons, though."
"... Thanks." Banal said eventually. "You're not to bad yourself." Apparently placated, she threw an arm over Sera's shoulder. "C'mon, there's some things you need to know about the Inquisition." She started to lead Sera away.
Lin slouched, giving the others a confused look that they returned. "This probably has something to do with watching guards try to fight with no pants," the elf decided eventually. He shrugged of the others stare, and jogged after his sister.
"So, you're good at spy-business and stuff, right?" Lin said amicably.
"That's right, bigger-boss." The Iron Bull agreed, lowering his head to talk to the Herald better.
"Okay. This is for you, from my sister." Lin handed him a sheet of paper. Bull chuckled.
"From smaller-boss? I don't do love letters, you'll have to tell her th-" He stopped when he looked at the paper, "that, um… this is just a bunch of names and places. Why did you give me this?"
Lin gave him an exasperated look. "You're a spy, figure it out yourself."
It took Iron Bull a minute to realise what he was holding in his hand. "These are all mercenary leaders, and trading company owners." Lin nodded, looking pleased. "And this is because I'm a spy for the Qunari?"
"No," Lin immediately refuted.
"So this isn't a warning?"
"No. I'll let you think on it for a bit." The elf patted Bull's arm, unable to reach his shoulder, and meandered away to go talk to Cassandra.
"Shit," Bull groaned, looking at the list again. "You didn't give me a lot to work on, boss." He sat down heavily on a stool, racking his brain.
"I'm sorry?" Cassandra's voice sounded a bit high-pitched. "Could you repeat that?"
"Will you tell us how you became the right hand of the divine?" Banal repeated slowly, making sure to say her words in a very clear manner. "Please," she added as an after-thought. Lin nodded eagerly next to her, stars in his eyes.
"Maker, do you really want to hear that?" Cassandra groaned, reaching up to rub her nose. "To hear the others tell it, I took on a horde of dragons single-handedly."
"Did you?" Lin said innocently, eyes wide with delight. Banal clasped her hands in front of her, giving the Seeker a pleading look.
Well, maybe Cassandra could embellish it just a bit; add a few details for flavour, just to live up to their expectations. But not to much, she didn't want to lie. "Well, I did over hear a…"
Later, she would wonder at the tale she had spun for them, adding details she didn't even knew she remembered. The look of childish delight was worth the small crowd that gathered.
"It's dark in here," Banal whispered, shuffling forwards. She held the torch higher, the flames gleaming against her raven hair.
"Really?" Blackwall asked sarcastically. "I couldn't tell."
The rouge looked hurt by that, her brow wrinkling. "I can't feel Lin when we're this close to a rift. There's just this emptiness. The dark makes it worse."
Blackwall felt a bit guilty, even though he didn't understand half of what she said. "We'll find the others soon enough, my lady, I'm sure."
"Or they'll find us," she countered softly. She didn't talk louder than a whisper above the crackle of the flame, as if scared something else will hear her. "We are the ones lost, after all." Her quietness made it seem more ominous, as if being lost was a dangerous state to be.
"Right." Blackwall looked around the dark cave they found themselves in. "Or they'll find us," he repeated.
"You're very curious about the Circles, aren't you?" Vivienne mused, looking down at the red-headed elf that sat cross-legged in front of her. "So many questions, my dear boy, will you tell me why?"
"I like to understand the people I'll spend a lot of time with. It makes it easier not to insult them, and to know who to not have them be around." Green eyes blinked languidly, as if he didn't just say something some leaders didn't bother to learn. "Also, I'm hoping to get on your good side so you might help me impress a lady, later." He gave a cheeky smile, a blush dusting his cheeks.
The Orlesian raised an eyebrow, immediately interested. However, no manner of trickery or persuasion will give up the name of the woman. The elf is sly and well-versed in the Game; how he had become so is a mystery, but it does not change the fact he is.
The Sorceress approached his sister next, who flippantly told the mage that she did indeed know who he was interested in. And then she danced around the conversation even better than her brother had. Vivienne had to respect the way they hid any knowledge they wished to be kept secret.
She delighted when they both approached her one day, asking for the right way for Lin to court Lady Cassandra.
"Don't do anything dangerous," Banal cautioned, holding out her hand as if it was for a quick shake.
"Everything that interacts with the Mark could be considered dangerous," Solas replied softly, scooting closer to take her hand in his.
"Nothing untoward, then." She says this as if she was commenting on his clothes, or asking him to pass a bottle to her. "It would not be pleasant for you if my brother came in and decapitated you."
He wonders at the way she builds her sentences as his magic wormed it's way into the mana upon her palm and his face grew warm. The way she built her sentence was clear when speaking to him, words forming in a more older fashion. Of course, around Sera it was just as slurred and chaotic as the archer's. It threw him most times, and he could never seem to find control of the conversation no matter how familiar the wording was.
"Why do you not have vallaslin?" He asked instead, feeling the flow between the two siblings more strongly than before. He could feel the Marks trading mana back and forth, along with pieces of magic, and some sort of information. He concentrated on that as best he could.
"My clan doesn't do that."
"No?" He was deeper now, closer. He could almost dip his fingers in the magic, just barely brushing the magic. "Why not?"
"Well, the scouts found- ow!" The last word was sharp and loud, unexpected.
Pain. It rippled through the connection he has made, traveling between the Marks as it was. But it was not from her, instead carrying from the other end. His magic clamped down automatically, but on the wrong thing. A sword; bright and gleaming, it moves out, the inability to move fast enough. A pained cry, the rip of metal through cloth, a splash of red, ringing voices in his ears, his sister, she would help, where was his sister it hurt oh creators it hurt. And below that, the roar of power.
Solas gasped as Banal ripped her hand out of his grasp, breaking his magic away; he leaned forwards to gag as the rogue bolted from her seat. Solas bit down on the back of his hand in an attempt to ground himself to reality. His unseeing eyes stared at the floor as his ragged breathing; green light crackled over his skin in an imitation of static, prickling his senses. The sparks faded quickly, the magic lost to him once more. He released his hand, blearily looking at the red bite-mark.
He doesn't think to test the mark again for many weeks after that.
"Lin, I want you to go with the others." She looked at him with hard eyes, fist clenched and held against her chest in a sign of good-bye, the doorway silhouetting her.
"I'll wait with them for you to return," he had answered. He saluted her back, face stern and serious, before turning and following the others, helping Chancellor Roderick up the path. She turned and left, three of their companions falling in behind her.
Now he sat shivering, pressed as close to the fire as he could. The warmth flooded over him, curling his hair and possibly damaging his skin. But the cold was much deeper, coming not from the snow but from his own soul. A blanket had been thrown over his shoulder, but he couldn't find the strength to care who put it there.
"I'll wait for you," he whispered to the dark, looking down at his hand. "I know you're still out there."
People milled about him, surrounding him, faces blurring together. Pitying looks mostly, but he wasn't sure why. His sister would come back. She was still alive- cold, yes, and very tired, but still alive and still trying to get to him. A couple of people patted his shoulder as they walked past, and then someone sat down next to him heavily.
"Is she alright?" A voice asked, childlike and quiet. "Do I need to help?"
Lin looked up, taking in the Spirit that was sitting next to him. "No," he said eventually. "You can go help the healers, though. They'll welcome an extra hand."
"Is she alright?" The spirit repeated, leaning into Lin's personal space. Again, the elf was too tired to care.
"She's cold and tired and hurt, but she's trying to come back."
The Spirit- did he introduce himself as Coal or something?- nodded and stood, leaving Lin to wait. In the distance, he could hear what he thought must be the howl of a wolf, but sounded more like a soundless scream to the night.
"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter." He mumbled to himself, smiling at the sardonic words. He raised his fist to his mouth and kissed the top of his fingers.
"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow," Banal'ras gasped, forcing her feet to move and push through the snow. "Ah, shit, what else did those sisters say? Something something blood." She giggled to herself, even though it wasn't funny. "Maybe I should stick with Dalish teachings, I've heard them more."
Maybe you should. It'll take your mind off of things.
"Shut up, you ass," she huffed, lightly shaking her wrist. "Fine; May all those that wander in the dark know of their light, and be guided through the night by the Great Halla. May all those who hunt alone never fear the woods, and may their steps be silent as the Dread Wolf's. May all those who stay to tend be warmed by the Fire of the Hearth Mother. Ma-may all those that-" She stumbled, and her knees gave out from underneath her. Her hands smacked against the snow as she fell to all fours, the frozen flakes burning against the cuts on her palm. "May all those that walk alone, b- be.. be…"
Don't stop; you're almost there. Just a little farther…
"I'm so cold, brother, and so tired." She sighed, watching the vapor dance in front of her. She sat back on her knees, tilting her head up to see the stars. "Just let me rest for a bit."
No, don't stop, please. Please, just...
"You're so warm," she murmured, "are you by a fire?"
Yes, and if you hurry you can come sit by it as well.
There was a voice shouting, sounding like Cullen- but that couldn't be right, because Cullen should be with the rest of the Inquisition. Her eyes closed, falling forwards from her upwards gaze and she hit the ground.
"Thank the Maker!"
… Was that Cassandra?
His voice sounded farther away.
She couldn't feel the ground beneath her suddenly, a warmth enveloping her instead. She was floating, out of touch with reality with only the foggy, distant feeling of her brother keeping her from just letting go.