The cold wind of the Frostback Mountains swept over the frozen lake with force. Small flurries of snow and ice danced in swirls of white around the Herald. The thick sheet of frozen water creaked and groaned as it shifted before her. The pale browns of the paths and hills of stone around her weaved through speckling clusters of dark evergreen trees dusted with snow. So quiet, cold and somehow seemingly perfect. It was nothing like the warm seasides of Ostwick and in this way, it comforted the young Herald. Her homelands carried scars and reminders of the broken shambles her family lay in, the cold heart of Ferelden promised hope of something different.
There was a spark and jump at her palm and Emery looked down to her gloved hand, her mark concealed from view but the energy still pulsed beneath the thin leather garment. It was calmer than it first had been. It didn't push past the leather of the glove as it sometimes did, it's magic had slowed and lulled for the time being. The thought of family and strong emotions seemed to give it energy to feed off of, waking it with a spark.
Cassandra had suggested she cover it, the ghostly unknown mark seemed to frighten those who bear witness to it. So for the comfort of those around her, Lady Trevelyan covered it. It felt wrong and shameful, as though the supposed gift from Andraste was to be hidden away like one of her dark secrets.
The young noble felt another twist in the palm of her hand and looked over her shoulder. There was no one nearby, save for the men off practicing their sparing on the hill before Haven's walls. No one lingered around the lake, the stables and forge were bent out of view by a stone hill, no one was there. Carefully, one finger at a time the Herald pulled off her glove. The bright green light pouring out at the first sign of freedom it found. She kept her fingers curled around the green light as she inspected the area around her again. She had chosen that spot to think due to its lack of people, its view and its proximity to the Commander's place of work. Emery knew no one could see her, she could see everyone who lingered and all those of any nearness were rather occupied.
She took a breath and unraveled her fingers. The bright green light spilling over her pale skin, dancing over the cuts and scars that littered her hand and arm from years of learning combat. The light was so bright it pulsed with every skip and jump of the breach.
The bright green light so hot and intense at the center of her hand it almost appeared white, like the heart of a flame it was the brightest, the strongest.
She moved her figures in thought of how it felt to have the magic pour out from her flesh into the world. To see that this thing she thought and imagined could come to creation without being crafted or bought like every other weapon she wheeled. This was not a skill to be learned but a physical part of herself, it was unique to her. Perhaps that was the most unsettling part of it all.
She had been given this without want or knowledge of it. She could not read about this somewhere and learn to understand it, could not be taught and trained in its use. No this was something no one understood and out of all the people who had been at the conclave, it had fallen to her.
Dumb luck, her brother would have called it. Fate, that other would have argued. Guilt was all she felt for it. Someone else, someone better should have lived in her place. Hundreds had attended, hundreds greater and more important than she. Someone else could have been given this and used it with grace and helped put this world back together much more effectively than she. Someone else might have saved the Divine, all the people who had been there, and her family.
Her hand fell away to her side as the thought of her family washed over her.
"Pain tight in my chest like a fist, crushing, breaking. Their voices in my head, loud like screams, bouncing around inside, calling, pleading, being for help. Why me? Why not someone else? Someone better?" Emery turned sharply to see the young man, Cole walking toward her in a jagged and broken way. He stopped in front of her, his floppy hat hiding his pale face and eyes from her view.
"It's not your fault," He began, Emery closed her eyes and winced away from the boy's words. "You can't help that you lived and they died. You want there to be a reason, for you to be unworthy so there's a reason everything seems so scary. But it is scary. You can't know why it was you. It just was." He words soft, he was trying to help in some misguided, broken away.
"I thank you Cole, but it should have just been someone else." She took in a shaky breath and turned back to the frozen lake. "Maker preserve me, I couldn't even save my own brothers. What good am I to Thedas, when I can't even protect those closest to me?" The boy was silent. More footfalls approached; heavy, crunching the snow and breaking chunks of ice.
"Herald, are you alright? Is it- is he bothering you?" Emery turned to look back over her shoulder at the voice she quickly recognized. Cullen stood over the crest of the hill, hands resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes hard in suspicion as he glared at Cole. She offered him a weak but comforting smile as she turned to face him.
"I'm fine," She said sweetly, her voice breaking from hidden emotions as she spoke. She cleared her throat and continued. "He isn't bothering me at, he's only trying to help. I appreciate the concern Commander it is quite kind." He looked back to her and his eyes soften, taking a few steps down over the hill so he stood level with the pair, he walked closer. He shot Cole dark looked and the boy scurried away from him.
"You're sure?" He asked in a low tone, close enough to her now that Cole wouldn't have heard it. She smiled at him again and nodded.
"Very sure. Thank you, Commander."
"Of course, My Lady." He said stepping back from her so some space regains itself between the pair. She smiled at the man's kind concern but could not swoon over the attention he gave her with such crushing thought pooling in her head.
"Guilt pressing on my stomach like a bottomless hole. Getting bigger and bigger. Making me sick, I push the food away, not hungry. Laying awake in my bed at night, sleeping pulling at my tired eyes but I can't close them. Can't sleep. Demons waiting to torture my mind with their faces. Always their faces." Both Emery and Cullen turned to looked at Cole as he paced back and forth, spewing the young Heralds thoughts, sharing them for the Commander to hear.
"Cole!" Emery scolded, her heart rate speeding up, hot anger burned at the tips of her fingers playing with the mark. It flared with the energy.
"You couldn't have stopped them," He said, Emery, shook her head and started up the hill past the young boy until she stood level with the Commander at the top.
"Gabriel would have gone no matter what you said to him. His anger, hot and dark like a wild thing. You couldn't have stopped him. And Kilian was honor bound, brave and strong like father, he couldn't have deserted. You couldn't have stopped them. It's not your fault."
"I…"She didn't know what to say, hot tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Her marked hand still bare to the cold of the world around her, the mark jumped and spasmed with the Heralds emotion.
She took a deep breath, claiming herself in any way she could. She took a moment, looking down at her hand and slowly pulling the glove back on. She took one final breath, her eyes clear and rage in check. She turned back to properly face Cole.
"Thank you Cole, but you're wrong. I should have tried harder. Either of them would have been more suited for all this, more so than me in any regards. So yes, I should have tried harder, much harder." She turned and looked to the Commander, his face struck with confusion and concern.
"Good day, Commander," She turned to Cole once again, "Cole. I wish you both a pleasant day." Without another word on the subject, the Herald straightened her posture and walked back toward Haven. Her personality changed, her emotions hidden because Maker be damned if she let anyone know how she truly felt.