There was a bright flash of light and a sound like that of crackling fire. He felt a deep throbbing in his head. The young man pushed himself off the ground and got up on one knee as a wave of nausea caused his stomach to churn. He stayed kneeling until the nausea subsided. He slowly stood up and scanned his surroundings, to get his bearing. He could not tell where he was or see another soul for miles around. All he could see was the rocky ground directly beneath his feet, and the green swirling mist that seemed to be everywhere. He couldn't think of his own name, or recall what had happened to him. It was like his mind was a blank page of a book, waiting for an author to put quill to paper. And yet, despite his amnesia, he was still aware of his surroundings; still aware that he could breathe despite the poison green mist. He turned around slowly, hoping to find something or someone. He glimpsed a bright light in the distance, high up on a hillside. He shielded his eyes with his hand and turned briefly away. He looked at the source of the light; it looked like the figure of a woman who was looking back his way. Unsure of what else to do, he slowly headed towards her. The path took him down deeper into the sickly green mists, which eventually blocked out everything, even the illuminated figure. But determined to find out who or what she was, the young man kept walking in the same direction as he'd started. The path eventually turned back upward, and he could once again see the lady of light.

As the young man climbed up the path to her, he heard a chittering and clicking coming from behind him in the distance and it was getting closer. He swung his head around to see what was making the noises and saw giant spiders, with armored bodies, bright black eyes, and oversized clicking mandibles. They were coming after him and fast. The young man, fearing for his life, scrambled up the path, losing his footing and slipping on loose pebbles, trying to get ahead of the chasing mass of spiders. He looked up desperately, seeing the woman extending her hand to the young man. The young man scrambled up to reach her before the monstrous spiders could catch him. He kept slipping on the loose rocks. In a desperate attempt to reach her, the young man stretched out his left hand to her. And as they both reached out to each other, their hands inching closer and closer, the young man noticed his left hand begin to luminesce and crackle with energy. There was some kind of cut or mark in his palm but he felt no pain from it. He felt only the power of the energy radiating from it. Suddenly, a bright light burst from between their hands and the young man collapsed back to the rocky ground.

"Over here," yelled a voice, "I've something – or someone." The young man could hear footsteps on the gravelly terrain as he slipped into oblivion.

There was a bright greenish light and the sound of crackling. The young man stirred ever so slightly but did not immediately wake. A moment, there was another burst of light and the same energetic sound. The young man stirred some more and slowly awoke. He opened his eyes slowly. He saw that he was shackled and kneeling on cold stone floor. He turned his head slightly to look at his hand in bewilderment, and he turned his hand over. His palm emitted the greenish light, and again he heard the sparking and crackling; his hand feeling like it was being consumed by fire. He yelped out from fear and pain. No sooner did the light on his hand die away, then the door in front of him burst loudly open. Bright torchlight spilled in through the doorway, cloaking the figures that stood in the doorway. The two figures approached him slowly glaring at him. Alexander was able to make out that they were both female and as they were finally illuminated by the torches in the room, he could just barely make out their faces. There was something familiar about them both, but could not recall where or when. Alexander had no idea how much time had passed or where he was. Other than being shackled of course. He watched as the women approached him, the one with raven black hair, circling him while her companion stopped short in front of him and stared at him with a look of utter disgust. The dark haired woman stopped behind Alexander, leaning over and asked him, "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?"

The woman began pacing around Alexander as she continued to speak, "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except, for you." The Conclave, Alexander thought. Then it came to him in a moment of realization. He was in Haven. He had come to the Frostback Mountains to attend the Conclave at the behest of his aunt. And this woman just told him it had been destroyed.

"What do you mean everyone is dead," asked Alexander in disbelief. Ignoring his question, the woman interrogating him grabbed his left wrist, held it up in front of him.

"Explain this," she demanded, grabbing his hand in hers. The young man's hand sparked and crackled from magicks unknown, fueling her anger. She threw his hand down.

"I… I can't," Alexander said, watching her pace around him again.

"What do you mean you can't," exclaimed the woman.

"I don't know what that is or how it got there," said Alexander. The woman was clearly not impressed with his answer. She quickly bent down toward him.

"You are lying," she accused, as she slapped her hands against Alexander's chest. Her companion with the hood immediately grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her away from him.

"We need him, Cassandra," said the hooded woman. That name sounded familiar to Alexander, as if he'd heard it somewhere before and rather recently. But he could not, for the life of him, recall exactly where or when. Cassandra stood back, watching her friend turn back around to face Alexander. His mind was reeling from the thought of the Conclave being destroyed. The loss of life was staggering. And Aunt Patricia among them.

"I can't believe it," he said, "all those people… dead."

"Do you remember what happened," asked the hooded woman, "how this began?" The woman's compatriot, Cassandra, walked around Alexander as he answered.

"I remember… running," he said, "Things were… chasing me. And then… a woman."

"A woman," the woman queried, hoping to get more from Alexander. She was convinced he knew something, but for some reason was acting like he didn't.

"She reached out to me," Alexander continued, trying desperately to piece together his fragmented memories, "but then…" Alexander let out a frustrated sigh, because that was all he could recall. His mind was still a frantic jumble. Nothing was making any sense to him at that moment, and all he wanted was to understand what was happening. Cassandra walked away from Alexander, gently nudging her friend in front of her as she did so.

"Go to the forward camp Leliana," Cassandra told her. That was another name that Alexander was sure he'd heard as well. These people were familiar to him, but why couldn't he remember them! Cassandra continued, "I'll take him to the rift."

"What did happen," Alexander asked Cassandra as she kneeled down and removed his shackles.

"It… will be easier to show you," she said, restraining his hands with a rope. Alexander chose not to struggle. Why should he? He hadn't done anything wrong, so far as he knew. Besides, he was still trying to come to grips that everyone had died at the Conclave. He wondered what those last moments had been like for his aunt and the others that had died. Did they even know what was happening? Or had they died quickly and suddenly, without pain or agony? He felt tortured at the very idea that Aunt Patricia could have suffered in her final moments. His heart broke knowing he would never see her again.

Cassandra walked Alexander out of his cell, up a flight of stairs, and out of the Chantry where he had been apparently kept prisoner. Shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness, Alexander stepped outside into the unnatural light. He shivered from the bitterly cold mountain air. As he eyes adjusted, he lowered his hands, and looked up at the source of the strange luminescence. There in the sky, through the light snow, and larger than anything he had seen in his life, was a pillar of bright, venomous looking, light. The pillar of light reached from below the mountain tops of the Frostbacks, all the way into the sky itself. The clouds swirled around this light as green lightning bolts issued forth from the center. Around the column of light, Alexander could see boulders and hewn stone floating magically through the air, orbiting this tear in the sky. All Alexander could do was stare in wonderment at the scene.

"We call it The Breach," Cassandra explained, "It is a massive rift that leads into the world of demons and it grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

"An explosion can do that?" Alexander inquired; he had never heard of anything explosive, man-made or magical, that could literally tear the Veil asunder like this.

"This one did. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world," Cassandra said. As if to underscore the meaning of her words, the Breach suddenly roared to life, shaking the ground beneath their feet. As it did so, Alexander's left hand blazed like it was somehow connected to this Breach, or almost as in answer to it. Alexander moaned out in pain and collapsed to his knees. He bent over, closing his hand and fiercely trying to hide it. Cassandra knelt down in front of Alexander, pointing to his hand.

"Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you," she said softly, frowning. The more she spoke to Alexander, the more he was convinced she didn't see Alexander the threat she first thought he was. It almost seemed like she was beginning to feel concern for the safety of this young man she barely knew.

"It may be the key to stopping this but there isn't much time," Cassandra continued.

"You said it may be the key, to doing what," Alexander challenged.

"Closing the breach," Cassandra answered back, "whether that is possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however… and yours." Alexander couldn't believe his ears. Cassandra's implication was clear, she still thought him guilty.

"You still think I did this… to myself," Alexander remarked.

"Not intentionally," Cassandra admitted with a hint of doubt, "something clearly went wrong."

"And if I'm not responsible," Alexander shot back.

"Someone is and you are our only suspect," Cassandra quipped, "you wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way." She indicated his hand. Alexander looked at Cassandra. He clenched his teeth in defiance. How could this woman accuse him of wanting to kill his Aunt Patricia?! He had loved her dearly. Of all his relatives in the family, she had been the one that seemed the most grounded, the most loving, the most caring, and the most generous. Aunt Patricia would have given the very cassock she wore in honor of the Maker, to anyone who needed it. And someone had killed her, and hundred others like her, for their convictions. It rankled him that someone could be so arrogant, so self-righteous, as to not realize the loss his family had suffered. Alexander looked at Cassandra a second longer and calmed himself. He suddenly realized in that moment that she must've had friends among the dead as well. Her accusations were coming, more from a sense of avenging her fallen loved ones, than simply choosing a scapegoat.

"I understand," Alexander consented. It was really the only decision he could make. Someone had to pay for the deaths of all those people at the Conclave, especially for Aunt Patricia. The honor instilled in him by his family and his tutors, told him that was the best thing to do.

"Then…" Cassandra said, looking at Alexander with the first hopeful glance since he'd come to nearly an hour ago.

"I'll do what I can," Alexander said, nodding to her, "whatever it takes." Cassandra and Alexander looked at each other a moment, before Cassandra helped Alexander to his feet, and softly walked him through the settlement.

As they passed by the various tents and stalls, Alexander could see people eyeing him. Some people looked at him with downright disgust. Cassandra saw Alexander looking at the inhabitants of Haven.

"They have decided your guilt," she admitted, "They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together, and now… they are dead." The approached a small stone wall with a gate that blocked the path up ahead. Two soldiers opened the gates as Cassandra and Alexander approached.

"We lash out, like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves, as she did," Cassandra pressed on, "Until the Breach is sealed." Cassandra stopped Alexander on the bridge, just past the gate. She took a couple of steps ahead of him and turned around, producing a small knife in her hand.

"There will be a trial. I can promise no more," she said, as she cut loose the rope that bound Alexander's hands together, "Come. It is not far."

"Where are you taking me," Alexander pried, shaking his hands and arms free. He had been going numb from his restraints.

"Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach," Cassandra responded, heading across the bridge to the other gate. "Open the gate," she ordered to the soldiers, "we are heading into the valley." They complied, opening the gate onto a snow-covered path that headed west, toward the Breach. As they ran along the path, Alexander caught sight of giant, green fireballs being spit out of the Breach, exploding the moment they hit the ground, and destroying anything in their wake. The pair continued to run along the path, avoiding the random fires springing up from the deadly ejections. Suddenly, the Breach pulsed and convulsed and Alexander's hand flared in tandem, causing him to crumple to his knees as he cried out in agony. Cassandra ran to Alexander's side and helped the young man up.

"The pulses are coming faster now," Cassandra stated, attempting to warn the young man. Alexander wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about it, other than just deal with the surges as they came. He nodded to Cassandra, and they continued on their way up the mountain path.

"The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face," Cassandra explained to Alexander. She was trying to still make her case for Alexander's help. Alexander stopped just short of stepping onto another bridge that crossed the frozen river below and turned to Cassandra.

"How did I survive the blast," Alexander probed. He desperately needed answers.

"They say you stepped out of a rift and then fell unconscious," Cassandra replied, as she crossed the bridge with Alexander in tow, "They say there was a woman in the rift behind you." Alexander stopped as he suddenly remembered a woman, made of light.

"A wom-" Alexander started to ask, but at that moment, a giant fireball crashed down onto the bridge, utterly destroying it, and sending them both tumbling down broken stone and mortar to the frozen river below. As Alexander and Cassandra lifted themselves off the ice, another fireball shot out from the Breach. It collided with an outcropping of rock a few yards away from them before eventually hitting the ice. But unlike before, where the fireballs had exploded, this one seemed to cause the ground to start bubbling and pulsing, like lava flowing out of a volcano. Only in this case, terrifying demons sprang out of the pools of toxic sludge and immediately went after Cassandra.

"Stay behind me," she ordered as she ran to meet them head on. Before Alexander could give chase, however, another of the toxic pools sprang to life between the young noble and his would be defender. Knowing full well what was about to spring forth and kill him if he didn't act, Alexander frantically started looking for a weapon of any kind. There, only a few feet away, was a supply cache that had crashed down with them when the bridge collapsed. And lying on its side, was a Greatsword. Alexander ran over to the massive weapon and picked it up. The sword was certainly well crafted because it felt lighter than some of the other swords Alexander had trained with in Ostwick. And it was practically new if the gleam of the blade was any indication. Alexander gripped the sword with both hands and charged at the demon that had broken free of the pool beneath its feet… if it even had them. He swung the Greatsword with all his might, but the creature was too swift and glided out of the way of his blade. Alexander deftly stepped back and roared his frustration at the demon. It swiped at him, unholy black claws trying to scratch his fair skin. Alexander ducked and drove his sword into the creature. As he watched, the demon disintegrated into a pile of ash around the blade. Alexander rested the blade briefly on the ground as he tried to catch his breath. As he looked up, Alexander saw that Cassandra defeated the demon she faced.

"It's over," Alexander observed. Cassandra quickly approached him, her blade at the ready.

"Drop your weapon, now," she demanded.

"Alright, have it your way," Alexander acquiesced, watching Cassandra closely and made no move to drop his weapon.

"Wait," Cassandra said. She sheathed her sword and looked at Alexander. "I cannot protect you," she sighed, "and I cannot expect you to be defenseless." Cassandra turned around and walked a few paces away from Alexander before turning around to face him again. "I should remember, you agreed to come willingly. Come, we must press on." Alexander and Cassandra continued up the path. Alexander looked around and observed that there weren't any soldiers in their vicinity.

"Where are all your soldiers," he asked.

"At the forward camp or fighting," Cassandra replied, "we are on our own… for now." Alexander and Cassandra made their way up the path, running into no other demon spawns from the Breach. They reached a set of stone steps that hugged a small cliff along the path.

"We're getting close to the rift," Cassandra says, "You can hear the fighting."

"Who's fighting," Alexander wondered aloud.

"You'll see soon. We must help them," responded Cassandra. They walked onto the top of the cliff, and there, a few yards away, was a group of individuals fighting some demon spawn. Alexander noticed that they weren't all soldiers in the group. Among the uniforms, there was also an elf mage and a dwarven archer with a crossbow the likes of which Alexander had never seen before. Alexander jumped down from the ledge, leading to where the fight was, and joined the fray. He assaulted, bashed, and skewered the different demons, all the while roaring and screaming at them. He witnessed the elf mage literally freeze one of his assailants into a solid block of ice and then struck the demon with the base of his staff, causing it to shatter like so much glass. But the elf didn't see the demon coming up from behind him. Alexander sprang into action and jumped into the air. His blade crashed down on the monster, cleaving it neatly down the middle. The elf, startled by the sound of Alexander's sword hitting the ground, turned around and nodded his thanks before moving off to another of the demons. Alexander whirled around and charged at another target, this time a wraith. It was hounding the dwarf who was rapidly firing his bolts and barely harming it. Alexander lifted his sword and swiped at the wraith, slicing through one of its arms. Thankful for the reprieve, the dwarf jumped backwards from the fray, and fired again at the creature, this time hitting it square in the chest. The wraith disintegrated, screaming in agony. Once the battle was over, the elf mage ran over to Alexander and grabbed him by his left wrist.

"Quickly," bellowed the elf, "before more come through." He held up Alexander's hand to the fade rift. He watched, utterly bewildered, as his hand emitted an undulating beam of energy from the mark. Within moments, the rift shrank before clapping shut and cutting Alexander's hand free of it.

"What did you do," Alexander accused the elf.

"I did nothing," the elf responded nonchalantly, "the credit is yours."

"At least this is good for something," Alexander quipped, looking down at his hand.

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky, also placed the mark on your hand," explained the elf to Alexander, "I theorized that the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake. And it seems I was correct."

"Meaning… it could also close the Breach itself," realized Cassandra, as she approached Alexander and the elf.

"Possibly," responded the elf, "It seems you hold the key to our salvation," he said, addressing Alexander again. Alexander glared at the elf disbelievingly. This was certainly well out of Alexander's understanding of magic.

"Well, good to know," the dwarf teased as he adjusted his gloves, "and here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever." He walked over to Alexander and looked up at the young noble.

"Varric Tethras: Rogue, Storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag along," said the dwarf, introducing himself to Alexander, and winking at Cassandra. Cassandra looked angrily at the dwarf and frowned.

"You're not with the Chantry are you, or…?" asked Alexander trailing off. The elf chuckled and interjected, "Was that a serious question?" Varric looked at Alexander before looking down at his hands and said, "Technically I'm a prisoner. Just. Like. You."

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine," argued Cassandra, "Clearly that is no longer necessary."

"Yet here I am. Lucky for you, considering current events," Varric responded shaking his head.

"It's good to meet you Varric," said Alexander, nodding his head respectfully.

"You may reconsider that stance, in time," joshed the elf.

"Awwww… I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley Chuckles," said Varric acerbically.

"Absolutely not," declared Cassandra. She huffed and continued, "your help is appreciated Varric, but-"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" Varric interrupted, "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." He looked at her intently. Cassandra turned away in response, grunting in disgust.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions," said the elf to Alexander, "I am pleased to see you still live."

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'," chimed in Varric. Alexander began to realize that these three individuals, clearly had spent some time together already, and knew each other well, even if they weren't the greatest of friends.

"You seem to know a great deal about it all," observed Alexander. His experiences with elves had generally been with ones that were only servants. He had never encountered an elf that could swing a sword, knock an arrow, or wield daggers in both hands… let alone one who could wield magic. The destruction of the Conclave was clearly turning his world on its side. He had to wonder if his life would ever be the same.

"Solas is an apostate, well versed in such matters," replied Cassandra. She certainly seems to be in charge around here, Alexander noted to himself. She also came across as someone who didn't tolerate disobedience or snarky attitudes. There was definitely no love lost between her and Varric, even if the latter enjoyed ribbing the Seeker, as he called Cassandra, at every opportunity. One day, the dwarf would probably say the wrong thing and end up with his head on a pike. As for her concern about Solas being an apostate… it was vehemently obvious, that she was keeping a very close eye on the elf mage.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra," Solas responded quietly. He had to be the most carefree elf Alexander had ever seen. He had to wonder if there was anything in this world that could make this elf mad. Then again, did he really want to find out? What he understood of magic, were the same warning everyone had heard – that mages who lost control emotionally, were highly susceptible to possession by demons. Perhaps this elf had trained himself to keep his emotions calm and collected, like a tranquil mage. Only, in this case, the mage retained his powers as well.

"My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade. Far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin," Solas explained to the young Trevelyan.

"If I can close the Breach, I will," said Alexander confidently. The more he thought about it, the more he started to believe it. And it felt good knowing that he was helping save the lives of those in the valley and in Haven. While it wouldn't bring back those that had died at the Conclave, it was, however, a step in avenging their murder.

"Cassandra, you should know. The magic involved here is unlike any I've seen," said Solas, turning to the Seeker, "your prisoner is no mage. Indeed, I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power." Cassandra respectfully nodded to Solas and replied, "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly." Cassandra and Solas headed off towards the forward camp. Alexander lingered a moment, trying to take in everything Solas had said. Two weeks ago, when he'd left Ostwick to come to the Conclave, he had no idea that he'd be getting more in-depth lessons of the Fade and magic than he had ever needed. Alexander had to wonder what his tutors back home would think about his situation.

"Weeeeeelll," droned Varric, stirring Alexander out of his musings. "Bianca's excited," he added, and walked off after Cassandra and Solas. Alexander soon fell into step alongside.

"And just who….or what, is Bianca," asked Alexander, as they headed down an embankment. The main path was blocked by debris from the explosion. The wall that normally acted as a barrier in between, had also been damaged, allowing for easy passage to the river.

"My crossbow," replied Varric, in a very paternal sort of way.

"You named your crossbow Bianca," joked Alexander. That was definitely a first. He knew that nobles liked to name their swords and shields. But never had he heard an archer name their weapon of choice. Let alone a crossbow like Varric's.

"Yes. And don't ask why. That's one story I won't tell," Varric told him. They passed by a few huts on the river, one of which was ablaze. Likely due to the Breach.

"So, are you innocent?" ribbed Varric, looking at Alexander.

"I… don't remember what happened," admitted Alexander. He still hadn't been able to remember anything beyond what he'd told Cassandra and Leliana a couple of hours ago. Every time he tried to focus on the memory, it slipped back into the shadows of oblivion. Alexander wasn't sure what made him more uneasy: the fact that he was having total amnesia of the explosion, or that it felt like someone was manipulating his mind and denying him access to those moments. He hoped that he would find out soon.

"That'll get you every time," chuckled Varric, "should've spun a story!" The group continued to climb up the mountain path, nearing the forward camp.

"That's what you would have done," Cassandra asserted.

"It's more believable and less prone to result in premature execution," Varric clarified. The group climbed the last of the steps. They were almost there. Alexander could see another massive structure up ahead. From where they were, he could just make out figures on the bridge. That had to be where the forward camp was.

"I hope Leliana made it through all this," said Cassandra. She feared the worst for her friend.

"She's resourceful Seeker," Varric said reassuringly. There was clearly still respect between Varric and Cassandra. And it seemed that Varric cared about as much for Leliana as Cassandra did. He also seemed to have a healthy appreciation for Leliana's skills.

"We will see for ourselves at the forward camp. We're almost there," Solas said. They climbed the mountain path and reached the gate. The group took a moment to pause while Cassandra spoke with the two guards at the gate to get a status update. Cassandra waved over the rest of the group and the guards allowed them to entire the forward camp. They had finally arrived.