Something wet and cold was on her head.

No, wait, my head is on something wet and cold. Anne rolled up and tried to stretch, but her arms were shackled.

Her mind began racing. It felt wrong, sick and hollow even.

She and Max had woken up and broken fast at the tavern...they had gone up the mountain to the Temple...they had met with a Lady something and Lord someone...they had...

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now."

Anne's back straightened. A woman was circling around her. There were guards too, guards with their swords bare.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." The woman stopped pacing to stare her in the face. "Except you."

Something from deep inside her roiled up. Her body rolled, as if to vomit.

Destroyed...

Dead...

No, no, that's impossible. I was there, we were meeting people and talking...we were...

The woman came at her and snatched her wrist. "Explain this."

Anne's eyes widened in horror; split down her palm, right through what a fortune teller had said was her life line, was a crack of green light. Now she looked at it, she couldn't stop feeling it. It was burning through her fingers, her hand, her wrist, fizzling into her forearm.

She fell backwards, pushing her manacled arms away, as it trying to run from them. "No...no...no..."

The bottom of her stomach roared up through her. Her breakfast was on the floor before Anne understood that a different woman was holding her hair back.

"What do you remember?" she asked, stroking her hair, almost like...

"Max," she whispered.

The other two women exchanged looks, then the first said, "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

"Get up," she said, grabbing her under the arm. It might have been a kind gesture, if it wasn't for one of the guards replacing her manacles with rope.

They walked out of her cell, then up some stairs. They had been under the Chantry. The woman was trying to lead her outside but Anne tried to turn back to her room. Charles, Tess, Max, they must be in there...

The woman only gripped her tighter and hauled her outside.

That sick feeling that something was wrong only got stronger. The light outside wasn't natural, there was a nasty tinge to it, a putrid green.

"We call it the Breach," the woman said, looking up to the sky.

Anne followed her gaze. "...Andraste preserve us."

Cut through the sky, like a deep gash, was the same crack as her hand. She felt her arms raise as her bad hand tried to reach for the Breach. It wants something, she felt vaguely. It wants me...

"It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with every passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest."

The woman was pulling her through a throng of people. But Anne couldn't see their glares and disgust, her head and arms were still craned toward the sky. She desperately wanted to look away, but she couldn't, it wouldn't let her.

It spit out a hail of green stuff over the valley, and her bad hand screamed. It wasn't until she was on her knees, shutting her mouth, that she realized she had screamed too.

Tears had slid down her face, but she barely noticed. Max is up there...

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads. And it is killing you." Cassandra looked her up and down, then clenched her jaw. "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

At the gate that led up the mountain, they stopped. "We must test your mark on a smaller rift."

Cassandra gestured for three soldiers to join them, then unsheathed her sword. Anne flinched, stepping backwards into the soldiers.

"My name is Cassandra." She grabbed Anne's hands and cut the ropes. "If you run, I will kill you."

Anne nodded wordlessly.

The three guards flanked them as they walked through the gate. There was a path, but it was lined with debris - smoldering carts and fallen trees. Soldiers were passing them, their faces grimy and vacant.

It wasn't until they turned into a small valley that she saw a dead body. She'd seen dead bodies before, but none who died from combat wounds.

She'd seen dead bodies before, but none who died from combat wounds.

And this person had been eviscerated. Their coat was flapping open in the wind, with their guts in a pile on top of their body.

She stopped in her tracks, her mind trying to understand.

But the soldiers were shoving passed her and suddenly she was pushed down next to the body. The wounds didn't look right. It looked like it had been done by a claw - a wolf? A bear? Her good hand reached out, ghosting above the body to trace the wound. Her stomach lurched. Wolves and bears had four claws, only human hands had five fingers.

She scrambled backwards away from the body, but one of the soldiers grabbed her by the collar and brought his blade up.

Cassandra and the other two were running across a frozen stream, toward two hooded somethings. Anne's mouth fell open in horror.

They were whole, they were real, but they somehow weren't. Instead of walking, they floated and oozed green; instead of fighting with weapons, they used their own claws and breathed ice.

The first soldier ran at one and bashed it with their shield, trying to put the thing off-balance. But instead it came at him with more force, pushing him down. It landed a large gash on his thigh before the other soldier stabbed it from behind. Black, inky fluid sprayed out as the thing howled.

The noise drove all the air out of Anne's lungs.

Her hands reached up to her guard. She couldn't breathe.

She was scratching the soldier, trying desperately to turn and run.

Cassandra roared as she landed a downward swing into the the last one, spraying that black blood everywhere.

Her guard let her go, and Anne's body turned her around to get her away. It smelt. Maker, it smelt like blood and pus and something sickly sweet.

She was scrabbling to go back down the hill on her hands and knees.

"I'm not supposed to be here." She was babbling. "I'm supposed to be at the Conclave, Max and I are supposed to be there." She was shaking madly, she knew it. From the cold, from the smell, from the fear...

Cassandra pulled her to her feet roughly, then turned her around. "Please - let me go - "

Cassandra pulled her close, moving her hands up to grab Anne by the face. Anne's wide dark brown eyes met Cassandra's determined grey ones. "Do you want to live?"

Or die.

The other half of the question hung in the air. Those were her only choices. She could live or she could die, but she had to choose.

Anne's jaw tightened as she swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Then you listen to me." Cassandra pointed up the hill. "There is a rift up there. I want you to hold onto Cutler and do not let go."

Anne nodded and took Cutler's bloodied hand.

As they crested the hill, Anne saw something shimmering in the air. The rift burned brightly, almost like a fire, but entirely the wrong color.

About ten people were fighting around it.

"I've got the wraith," a dwarf shouted, firing off his crossbow.

Anne and Cutler hung back, Anne clinging to his metal arm.

A bald elf mage was cutting through one of the clawed things. In the back of her mind, Anne could feel something like rationality wondering why a mage was being allowed to fight.

He suddenly turned, as if he heard her, and stalked toward her. Anne dug her nails Cutler's bicep as the mage tried to wrench to her by her bad hand.

"We have to move quickly," the mage shouted. "Give me your hand!" Cutler pushed her off and she was being dragged forward.

Something was buzzing in her ears and under her skin. It was like her left arm was thrumming as they got closer and closer to the rift. Instinct took over and as the mage threw her arm out, Anne made a grabbing gesture at the rift.

There was a feeling like two magnets trying to decide if they are opposed and the rift snapped closed with her fist.

She doubled over, clutching her hand. It should have been painful, her mind thought. It shouldn't have felt good. Panting, she rubbed her forearm. It almost felt as if it had receded a little.

"What," she said, turning to the mage, "is this?"

He leant against his staff, almost casually. "It is a Mark. Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that Mark upon your hand. I theorized the Mark might be able to close the rifts. It seems I am correct."

"So it can it close the Breach?" Cassandra asked.

He smiled grimly. "Possibly."

"Good to know. Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever."

The dwarf came forward, offering Anne his hand. "I'm Varric Tethras - rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong."

But Anne could only stare. "D-demons?"

Everyone exchanged looks. "Andraste's tits, you didn't tell her, Seeker?" snapped Varric. Cassandra cocked an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to question her.

"Yes," the mage said. "The rifts are allowing demons to cross into our world from the Fade."

Anne shook her head at him. "No. No. Demons can't enter our world. They need a human, they need a mage."

"Tell that to the Breach," huffed Varric.

She wanted it all to be a dream, but she had never smelt anything so potent as the demon blood they were all splattered with now. She couldn't make it up.

"Some Seeker of Truth you are," he continued. "Not telling her the whole story." "She was not ready."

Varric looked up at Anne and his face softened begrudgingly. The Seeker had him there. Sighing, he put a hand on Anne's back. "What's your name?"

She jumped at the contact, but didn't pull away. "Anne."

"Just Anne?"

"Lady Anne Trevelyan."

"Right. You stay with us, Lady Anne. Solas, the Seeker, and I, we're gonna get you through this."

Anne looked down at his arm, then back at his kind face. What else was there to do? She nodded. This time she clung to no one as they pressed on.

It wasn't three minutes before they found themselves at a rift blocking a closed gate.

The others took up positions while Anne stood next to Cutler. Knowing the things were demons helped; she could understand everyone's urgency now. And she could share it too. She found herself wanting to help, to fight with them. But without any skills, she knew she would only hinder them. Even still, she found herself walking towards the rift before the last demon was killed.

This time, Anne was prepared. As the last demon screamed, she felt the hum rise up through her arm and into her head, compelling her to reach out and snatch at the rift. As she closed her fist, she realized it didn't feel good, but quieter.

Cassandra ordered someone on the opposite side to raise the gate, which turned out lead to a bridge.

Anne could see the second woman - Leliana? - arguing with several men on the far side.

Varric and Solas stopped to replenish their supplies, but Anne kept going. Cassandra had stopped to talk to the arguing group, but Anne didn't want to. She had to keep going, keep moving. There were rifts up ahead and there wasn't time for squabbling.

She started toward the gate on the opposite side of the bridge when a small man in Chantry robes came to stand in front of her, stabbing his finger in her face.

"As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry," he yelled, "I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution."

Anne flinched, then tried to move around him. But Cassandra put her arm out, stopping her. "'Order me'? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!" Cassandra scoffed.

The Mark flared with a rupture in the sky, making Anne's eyes water as she clutched her fist.

We don't have this time to waste -

"And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry and will obey me."

- Max is up there -

The first woman shook her head. "We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor, as you well know."

- stop stop stop -

"Justinia is dead! We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter."

"Do you want to live?" Anne snarled, parroting Cassandra back at the Chancellor.

Before he could answer, she pushed Cassandra's arm out from in front of her and towered over the man. "Then let me try."

A tall man in a strange set of armor reached out and pulled the Chancellor away.

Leliana only raised her eyebrows. "We can either charge directly up the path," she said, "or take another path through the mountains."

Cassandra shook her head. "We lost an entire squad on that path. It's too risky."

Before anyone could say anymore, Anne stepped forward. "We go through the mountain." Something like clarity came over her. "We save as many people as we can. We go through the mountain."

The Chancellor seemed to want to say something, but the tall man put a hand in front of him. Cassandra and Leliana exchanged looks, then nodded.

The closer they travelled to the Breach, the quieter they all became. It turned out the way was through an old mining passage. But if anyone thought the cover would mean fewer demons, they were wrong. When they came across three badly burnt corpses, the sickly sweet smell of ichor wafted passed them, but also the smell of roast pork. Anne felt sick with herself as her empty stomach rumbled.

Cassandra kept them moving, insisting there were more people in the squad than just these three. After a fair amount of walking they could see some rift light at the end of the tunnel.

The others ran ahead to find the missing squad already fighting a horde of demons that had just come through. This time was more than wraiths. There was a large fire demon as well as a green looking one that had no legs.

Again, Anne could barely wait for the thrum to start. She could feel her marked hand wanting her to bring her closer to the rift. And as she snapped her palm shut she could definitely tell there was less of the strange energy in her arm.

She sighed heavily in relief - her arm felt less unbelonging.

Solas moved up ahead to the edge of the mine to look over the valley below. "The path ahead appears to be cleared of demons as well."

The rescued soldiers joined them as they climbed down the ladders to reach the road below. It was, as Solas had mercifully predicted, demonless.

Anne walked near the front of the group, ignoring the banter going on behind her. Every step was bringing her closer to Max.

But as they came down some stairs carved into the side of the mountain, she began to falter. There were jagged rocks rising out of the ground, like some kind of uneven wall. And the stone was as green as the Mark on her hand.

The others passed her, except for Cutler and Cassandra.

Cassandra gave Anne a questioning look, but she only shook her head. Her stomach was starting to roil again, but she didn't want to stop.

Then Varric gave a low whistle.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes," he whispered.

Anne rounded a corner of the ruptured stone and abruptly all her hard-won purposefulness evaporated.

She had stood here, in this exact spot, only hours before with Max, but before there had been a door here. They had walked through it together, admired how beautiful the architecture was, and Max had made a joke about trying to blaspheme here, like they had the night before.

The world pitched in front of her as she fell to her knees.

There was almost nothing left, everything was in pieces. All around them were charred halves and quarters and less of bodies, still frozen in the positions they died in. Kneeling, praying, some running away.

A little ways off stood the wreckage of the Temple. Pieces of the walls still stood, but barely. And the stone - the stone had burned. How can that happen?

Anne fell onto her hands, retching. But there was nothing left in her, her body was wracking itself to bring up nothing.

She couldn't hear the murmurs being passed between their group; she couldn't hear anything. She pressed her snow covered hands to her face but couldn't feel the cold. There was just the sick heat being generated by the rubbled husk of the Temple.

And the smell of death.

Max couldn't have survived this, he couldn't be up here waiting for her, he couldn't have hidden somewhere or held out for their rescue.

No one could have - should have - survived this. Cassandra was right.

This time, when Cassandra pulled her up, it was much, much gentler. She held Anne's face firmly again as she asked, "If we take you down there, will you be able to close it?"

No, I can't breathe, I can't do this. I'm not supposed to be here. And Max... I need to do this (I can't do this).

I need to do this.

Anne felt her head nodding. Cutler came up and held her as they moved through the Temple and followed the stairs downward.

She couldn't feel anything anymore. Only the buzzing cutting through her body as they got closer and closer to what she knew was a rift. Her body was having trouble pushing itself forward, even as she yelled at her legs to keep moving. She would have collapsed when the rift spewed out the largest demon they had seen yet, if it hadn't been for Cutler physically holding her up.

The others started to fight, but the fight wasn't going fast enough. Anne could feel her body thrumming, and her eyes rolled back. Her skin felt like it was boiling with green energy. It didn't feel like the Mark was just in her hand anymore, but it had invaded the rest of her body and was corrupting her.

When the demon finally fell, it took everything she had to raise her fist and bring the rift down. The buzzing was gone.
Maybe she was free...

"Max?" she whispered, before the world went dark.