Anna had moved on from the Canticle of Threnodies to Transfigurations, the words of the Chant holding her in an uncertain grip.
She was terrified.
Her eyes were closed shut, her hands clasped firmly together, her prayers loud, sung with all the force her lungs could manage.
"Many are those who wander in sin, despairing that they are lost forever..."
Yet, no matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes shut, she could still see the green light and mist around her, assaulting her senses in a way they shouldn't be able to. Pushing at the boundaries of her mind, like nails of ice being slowly driven into her temples.
"But the one who repents, who has faith, unshaken by the darkness of the world, and boasts not, nor gloats..."
No matter how firmly she clasped her hands together, she felt the vertigo, how she was falling, like the whole cathedral had been pulled off the ground and thrown into an abyss.
"...over the misfortunes of the weak, but takes delight in the Maker's laws and creations, she shall know the peace of the Maker's benediction."
No matter how loud she sung the Chant, she could still hear the screams, the cries of terror and agony mixing into a choir, storming around her on ethereal winds, seemingly coalescing somewhere above her.
"The light shall lead her safely through the paths of the world and into the next."
Anna knew people were dying all around her, or were already dead, it was hard to tell in a world that seemed to have been thrown into chaos. Even with her eyes closed and her mind grasping at the Chant, Anna knew there was something unnatural going on. Though no mage, she could feel its energies coursing around her like a river, feel it clinging to her, feel the corruption of something evil in it, like a fresh wind ruined by something dead and decaying.
"For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water."
Anna, like everyone around her, was afraid, frozen in terror. But her fear was not for her life. Her old nanny's stories had been told to scare the children of the Trevelyans' to be careful and not get themselves hurt, the bad one always fell dead, cursed to fall into hell, never at the Maker's side, while the good hero lived on happily ever after with their love.
"As the moth sees light and goes towards flame, she should see fire and go towards the Light."
Anna hadn't learned to fear death from those stories, she had learned to fear for her soul.
So she prayed, harder and more urgently than ever, feeling that the world was coming to an end. For her soul, for those who no longer could pray for theirs. For forgiveness for all their sins, for the survival of those who remained, for and end for those who suffered. For her family, for the Divine, for mankind itself. Maker, hear my cry, spare the innocent, spare the children, spare the mothers and fathers, if blood must be given, let this be it...
"The Veil holds no uncertainty for her..."
Please, save my soul.
"And she will know no fear of death, for the Maker..."
Something, a presence, made Anna look up, to open her eyes.
The cathedral had been reduced to rubble. Above, all that existed seemed to be a green mist, a perverted sky, within which demons on leathery wings flew, roaring in delight. Far ahead, the black city, a legend only mages saw in their dreams, stood. Distant, inspiring and horrifying at the same time.
Yet all faded into the background against the one standing just before Anna.
Golden, glowing brighter than the sun, strips of her dress fluttering on ethereal winds, the woman standing over Anna reached down, offering her hand.
Anna's mouth worked, but all she could do was to continue the Chant. "...shall be her beacon and her shield..."
Anna, body tingling, soul overwhelmed, reached up to take the hand.
I'm not worthy.
"...her foundation and her sword."
She took the hand.
Then screamed.
Agony laced through her very being, a light no human could contain searing through her as she was flung backwards, hurled away from her saviour, falling.
And then she kept falling.
Into the cold.
Then warmth.
Into darkness.
Then light.
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"Seeker."
"Seeker."
"My lady."
Too tired to really care about the respectful greetings, Cassandra nodded to each and marched on, her every muscle aching. How many times she had gone out to lead detachments into battle, she couldn't tell by now. It wasn't a battle anymore so much as combating a wildfire, teams simply moving in to contain the chaos before being relieved before they got too exhausted to fight on.
The fire was growing though, would soon be out of control, and showed no sign of stopping either.
Cassandra sat down heavily on the first open spot she found, a stump of a once mighty tree, cut down to make a barricade, she remembered. Though by now it had been burnt to ash by a rage demon...
Grunting, not about to let the bout of dizziness suddenly gripping her win, Cassandra drew her sword and begun to sharpen the notched edge. The next sally for her and her troops was in four hours, and she would be prepared by then. Of course, if the troops would be was another question, they were so tired...barely a few weeks ago they had been farmhands and workers, now they were fighting for their lives against an endless enemy...how much more could one demand of them before they broke?
There had been three days of fighting by now, an endless cycle of charges, ambushes, defences, skirmishers and massacres. Above, the Breach was still growing, spitting out demons that mindlessly threw themselves at whatever they found. Tireless, endless, fearless, the demons were everything humans weren't, and everyone knew by now that there would be no victory against them.
Haven, once a growing village from the many pilgrims visiting the temple of Sacred Ashes, was now more of a military camp, haphazardly put up by Inquisition recruits and their trainers. The civilians of the village, too afraid and shocked by the events to think of anything else to do, had turned from farmers and sellers of goods to servants and cooks, unofficially joining the improvised army and helping as best they could.
These people, the blood of an army that made it all work, were scurrying back and forth on errands and jobs that would never end, seemingly tireless to someone who had just entered the camp.
The soldiers, equipped haphazardly by an organisation not yet fully in place, were lounging about in their detachments. Though lazy-looking compared to those fussing over them, anyone who'd been out there knew they deserved the rest. In fact, it was a testament to their fatigue that most soldiers by now didn't bother taking their armour off, or wandered off from their detachment for long, knowing they would soon go back out into battle.
But all, soldiers and servants alike, shared one thing. A growing feeling of despair, of defeat.
Cassandra, despite hating weakness, could understand it all too well.
Josephine had sent out requests for aid against the Breach to all corners of Thedas, and nothing had come, they were seemingly alone, abandoned. Josephine had explained the situation to Cassandra, but it hadn't really helped. Yes, Ferelden was weakened by the blight and hit hard by the Templar and Mage war. Yes, Orlais was in the midst of a civil war. Yes, Nevarra was too busy guarding its borders. Yes, Tevinter was busy with the Qunari. Yes, Antiva and Rivain was too far away.
But the Breach was obviously trying to swallow the world!
Gritting her teeth, Cassandra drew her whetstone harder against her blade, taking her frustration out on it. And now we get requests for aid by local nobles because of some minor rifts on their lands...have they looked up recently!? It was infuriating.
"Well, looks like you're in a cheerful mood." Looking up, Cassandra held back a growl at the sight of the dwarf before her. Varric, dressed in a red tunic leaving obscene amounts of chest bare, his huge crossbow slung over his shoulder, shrugged with that sarcastic smile he loved treating her to. "As usual."
"What do you want, dwarf?" Cassandra looked back down to her blade, hating herself for getting sucked into yet another of his 'conversations'. "If this is about you complaining about being 'conscripted', as you claimed to Cullen, I'll have to disappoint you. You're free to go, in fact, please do."
"And miss out on all the fun, Seeker? Perish the thought!" Varric snorted. "Besides, you need all the help you can get, so you might as well get used to me putting bolts into demons."
Of all the people to actually grasp onto their shred of nobility...
Gritting her teeth in frustration, Cassandra shrugged. "Do as you wish then, I'm not stopping you."
"Thank you, it's so good of you to give me permission."
"I wasn't..." Sighing, Cassandra looked up at Varric, finding a glimmer of hostility under the veneer of humour the dwarf put up. Maybe I was too rough with him during our interrogation. If so, I should apologise. Cassandra wasn't sure though, and at the moment she doubted Varric cared for whatever she said. "Fine, you're allowed to kill demons, go do it with my blessing."
Varric opened his mouth, no doubt another sarcastic retort on his lips – it seemed he had nothing else to do when he wasn't fighting, perhaps his coping mechanism for all Cassandra knew – when another voice cut in. "Fighting again? My my, if you two keep this up, people will start to talk."
Cassandra snorted in disgust at the thought, and Varric wasn't far off with his grimace as he replied. "Ah, the elf apostate telling a joke, I should commemorate it with a song."
Cassandra, shaking her head at the madness of the two men before her, quickly replied. "Please don't sing."
Solas, clad in patched tunic and trousers, the only thing keeping the cold out a coat of fennec-fur, arched an eyebrow at the dwarf as he leant on his staff, seemingly oblivious to the sideways glances he was getting by all who passed. "I do have humour, master Tethras, but there is a time and place for it."
"Ah, of course. Still, it was a good one, I admit, Chuckles." The dwarf offered a crooked smile. "Anyway, what brings you to this neck of the woods? Shouldn't you be busy humming at a fade rift somewhere or do that weird fade-walk thing you talk of or...something?"
"My studies of the rifts are right now on hold, as you're well aware, master Tethras." Solas replied evenly, as if it was any other subject, rather than that which was threatening to destroy them. How do you even study them? Who learns such a skill? Thin like all elves, the man's lack of hair and intelligent blue eyes made him look older than he perhaps was. And despite not being any taller than most elves, he somehow seemed to be, the man standing straighter and prouder than any other Cassandra had met...she wasn't sure she trusted the apostate, nor he her, as he had told her. Yet so far, despite his odd appearance and curious abilities, the man had proven a staunch ally, something Cassandra could respect. "As for walking the fade, I currently don't sleep much, other things keep my attention."
"Ah, of course, Cassandra's latest victim." Varric summarised, grinning.
"She is not a victim, she's a prisoner to be interrogated." Cassandra corrected, glowering at the dwarf who brazenly glared back.
Cassandra still didn't know much of the woman, according to reports by those who found her, she'd fallen out of a minor rift, like the fade itself had spit her out. Her clothes, torn and burnt, had still born her heraldry though, and Josephine had quickly identified the woman as Anna Trevelyan, one of many attending the conclave. She hadn't turned out to be a possessed demon, despite the strange glowing mark on her hand, but that meant that the fade had for some reason let her go while all others have died. Even the Divine was gone, yet this woman somehow survived? It was suspicious beyond words.
But why would a Trevelyan try to assassinate the Divine? And in such a fashion? I hear they have relations in Tevinter, but even they wouldn't want this, would they?
None of it made sense, and the unconscious woman had so far been of no help, making Cassandra shake her head. "If she wakes up, she will have a chance to defend herself, just like anyone else."
"Ah, yes, of course." Varric tapped his chin. "Before or after you stab her in the book though?"
"That was my book, dwarf." Bloody shame too, was a good book...not telling Varric that though. Cassandra grunted, tired of the dwarf going on and on about his wounded pride. "Stop moaning."
"The book was in my lap though, I think I have every right to complain." Varric retorted, as he always did.
Cassandra sighed, rubbing her temple. "I do not have time with this again, Varric. There are more important things at stake here than whether or not you like my interrogation techniques." She shot a tired look up at what remained of the mountain ahead, the breach above it pulsing with a life of its own, a tiny stream of its light still reaching the ground, as if anchored into it, unable to take flight further. "If you hadn't noticed, we're facing a crisis that might be the end of the world here."
"Yes, and so far we're doing such a good job at fixing that." Varric chuckled. "I think I've killed the same demon four times now. Of course, it keeps coming back...one of these days I'll be out of bolts, as you will be out of soldiers, no doubt."
"I'm aware that we're not able to defeat this breach the way we are fighting." Cassandra glowered, finding no amusement in Varric's little jab, good men and women had fallen in the battle so far, and more would fall in the days to come. "This is a holding action until we can find a way to seal it, and you know that."
"I...suppose." Varric finally conceded. The dwarf wasn't as much a fool as he played, Cassandra knew it. He was intelligent enough to see things as they were...yet infuriatingly enough, that didn't stop him from taking his shots at her whenever he could.
"Okay then, if you two are finished, may I diverge the topic to the reason I'm here?" Solas asked, giving Varric a look before he turned his gaze to Cassandra. "The mark is now as stable as I could make it, and she's about to wake up."
"What!?" Cassandra leapt to her feet, eyes wide. "Why didn't you tell me already!?"
"You were in a conversation." Solas calmly replied, shrugging. "There's no rush, it'll take another hour at least before she's fully awake.."
Cursing loudly, Cassandra sheathed her blade, turned and ran, she had to find the left hand of the Divine, then ready the interrogation!
Behind her, she heard Solas sigh. "Humans..."
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Warmth, light, it was all around her.
Peace, calm, serenity.
Fading, all fading.
Replaced by darkness, cold, and a growing sense of something being wrong.
Her knees ached.
There was a chill in the air.
Something was wrong.
Aren't I dead?
Anna let loose a low moan, her whole body was aching from...she wasn't sure what.
It was real though.
Slowly, carefully, fearfully, she opened her eyes, head tilting left and right to try and make sense of things.
She wasn't in her room back at the conclave, nor was she in the cathedral or anywhere familiar. The room was bare, cold stone of a square cell, most of it shrouded in darkness. She herself was bathed in light from a hole in the ceiling though. Looking up, Anna caught a glimpse of dark clouds and a pale sun...and lowered her head with a wince, eyes stinging from the sight. That made her look down though, at the cold slab of stone she was kneeling on, and at the iron shackles holding her wrists, attached to a chain stuck to the stone beneath. What in the...? Anna's eyes widened, shocked and confused.
"Who are you? Tell me your name."
Looking up, Anna spotted a woman's shape moving in the shadows, circling her like a cat did its prey.
Anna momentarily drew a blank, her mind trying to process it all. "I...A-Anna, Anna Trevelyan."
"Father? Mother? What do they do?"
"I...Morgan Trevelyan and Lia Trevelyan. Father runs our businesses and mother manages our connections..." Anna swallowed, confused and not a little scared as the dark shadow moved too far to her right to follow.
The cold voice, full of anger, lashed at her from behind. "What were you doing at the conclave?"
Conclave...the conclave that... Anna shrugged it off, it was a dream, a bad dream, it had to be. "I was sent by father, I was to help Divine Justinia create peace. I've been dealing with Templar captains and Circle enchanters since then, they're very stubborn but...what's going on? I don't understand, why am I shackled? My father will not-"
"Your father might be the one who gave the order, for all I know." There was a clatter as the shadow suddenly marched into the light, coming up behind Anna, a cold gauntlet gripped her hair, pulling her head back as the woman's voice hissed into her ear. "He might have been the one who told you to destroy the conclave!"
"Destroy? But it's..." Anna's protest died on her lips, eyes widening, remembering. "It's...Maker have mercy, it is destroyed, isn't it?"
"Yes." The hand in Anna's hair roughly let her go, the owner circling Anna until she could get a good look at the other woman. Arms crossed over her chest, the dark-haired woman before Anna was all iron and purpose, the scar across her left cheek that of a warrior's, the grey eyes boring into her target like a hawk's. There was anger in her gaze, anger and a blazing need for answers. "Destroyed in an explosion. Why did you do it?"
"Me!?" Anna gasped in horror. "I would never do such a thing to so many, nor to the most holy Justinia!"
The woman before her took a step forward, hand shooting down to draw her sword. "Then tell me what happened!"
"I...I..." Anna hesitated, raking her memories as she stared at the tip of the sword, a sword still marked by blows from combat, she noted. Yet for all her struggles, there was nothing there, a big blank in her memories. "I don't remember..." All except one thing. "...except...a woman."
Before her, the woman frowned. "A woman? What woman?"
"Sh-she was glowing...like the sun. All around me, there was death and destruction, but she reached down for me...I took her hand and she...saved me?" It was so hazy, Anna couldn't remember properly, but thinking about it...it made her skin shiver, something deep inside her feeling...warm.
She saved me.
The woman before her hesitated, then lowered her blade, a look of confusion on her face, she too no doubt thinking the same thing as Anna.
Andraste's mercy...
Then a second shadow detached from the wall. This one was a man, dressed in a long flowing robe concealing his body, all Anna could tell was that he was of middling height, stooped, and that his face was as nondescript as his neutral voice. His face, though without a single wrinkle, somehow spoke of age. His hair, carefully combed back, was a solid grey. His eyes, dark blue, seemed far more wry than the situation merited. His voice, despite being polite, had a clipped quality to it. "You took her hand? Which hand?"
Shackled as she was, Anna could do little but turn her wrists upwards and nod towards her left hand...that suddenly crackled with green energies. "Maker's breath!" Anna recoiled, trying to flee from the display of magic, only to find herself tumbling to the floor as the chain hooking her to the floor pulled her onto her side. "Get it off! Get it off now! I'm no mage! I shouldn't have that! Get it off!"
"We can't." The man retorted. "And maybe we shouldn't, if the mark came from you..." He drifted off, letting the rest go unsaid.
Anna, despite her horror, calmed at those words. "Magic exists to serve man..." She felt her shoulders slump.
"...and never to rule over him." The woman finished, taking a step forward. "However, I don't think this is magic, not in the regular sense, anyway. This is...different."
"And potentially our saving grace." The man nodded. "Cassandra, unshackle our guest, let her see the Breach for herself. I need to go confer with our dear Chancellor." Without showing a hint of hurry, the man then turned and opened the door to the chamber, flooding it with light as the snowy outdoors lay just beyond it.
"Right." Nodding to herself, the woman approached, sword sheathed as she reached for the keys at her belt. "Don't try anything, I'm a good fighter and there are guards all over this place."
"I won't...Cassandra, was it?" Anna blinked, still overwhelmed by all that had happened, and definitely not about to look at her hand again. Instead she focused on the woman's features as she struggled with the apparently old lock holding Anna prisoner. "Wait...Cassandra Pentaghast? The woman who at Val Royeaux-"
"Yes, that's the one." Cassandra interrupted with a weary sigh. "Please don't tell me you're a fan due to those ludicrous stories?"
"Err..."
"Right, of course you are." Sighing, the woman got Anna's shackles off. "Maybe you should focus more on your own fate rather than some exaggerated tales?"
"I..." Anna swallowed, glancing down at her left hand, only to shirk away when it began to throb, a crackle of green energy escaping it. "I'm not sure I want to." Noting the disapproving look the other woman shot her, Anna grimaced, then drew a deep breath. "What...what did happen? I barely remember my own fate, but what of the others? What's a breach?"
Cassandra's disapproving frown turned into a weary sigh. "I'll show you, come on." Not waiting for Anna to agree, the woman hoisted her to her feet and pulled her with her. Outside it was cold and full of people. Anna, realising she was dressed in nothing but a filthy tunic, felt herself flush before realising most were glaring at her, rather than staring at her exposed skin. Even as she watched, a man working the smith stopped to glower and spit in her direction. Why is everyone...oh right, they think I...Maker...
Whimpering, Anna wanted nothing but to sink into the ground and disappear from so many glares.
But then Cassandra gripped her neck, turning her gaze skywards, the woman's tone sombre. "And it's not a breach, though there are many minor rifts out there, but the Breach."
Anna's eyes widened, trying to make sense of the impossible.
The glowing orb of green light was challenging the very heavens, arcs of lightning surrounding it, pieces of the shattered mountain it was hovering over orbiting it, seemingly weightless.
It was impossible.
Yet there it was, a glowing effigy to something dark and evil.
Anna's eyes slowly narrowed.
To the slaughter of hundreds, of the death of the most holy Divine Justinia.
Behind her, Cassandra's voice simply added to the growing sense of purpose. "It's growing with each passing day, letting in demons, creating more rifts in the veil, and if we do not stop it, it might swallow the world completely."
Before Anna, she could almost see the glowing woman, see the hand reaching out...see Andraste choosing to save her.
"When do we leave?"
"Leave? I beg your pardon?" Cassandra asked, confused.
Turning, Anna straightened, taller than Cassandra by half a head, she found herself looking down at the woman with a surprising feeling of purpose. "Yes, when do we leave for the Breach? I assume you have a plan for tackling it? It must be destroyed." Andraste wills it.
"I...yes." Cassandra blinked, looking unsure. "I thought I would have to convince you, what with how your mark seems tied to the breach, but if you're volunteering..."
"Still surprised others are willing to help, Seeker?" A new voice spoke up, a curious-looking elf approaching, friendly smile on his lips. "One does not have to be of the Chantry to understand the danger of the glowing hole in the sky." He then turned his gaze to Anna, intelligent eyes flicking over her as if he was studying a book rather than a woman. "You look better, I'm glad to see you on your feet."
"That's elven for 'I healed you, you're welcome', if you didn't catch that." A dwarf, no beard but that on his broad chest, spoke up, the man appearing from around the corner to Anna's cell. The man, smirking, spread his arms wide in welcome. "And damn, seems you're not stabbed in the book, I owe Solas a sovereign."
"Stabbed in the what?" Anna repeated, making Cassandra groan.
"I'm sure you'll be able to afford it." The elf retorted, then offered Anna a reassuring smile. "And yes, I did heal you, though admittedly, if we do not close the breach, the mark on your hand will make my efforts somewhat...futile."
"I..." Anna regarded the elf with confusion. He was not Dalish with their aggressive posture and defiant attitude that made them such a tricky people to deal with. Nor was he a city elf or servant. He looked her right in the eyes, unflinching, without anger or fear, as if they were equals. Though thinking herself enlightened among most nobility, Anna found the reality of such a behaviour surprising and even a bit unnerving. Still, she offered a pale smile. "...thank you."
Solas merely bowed his head in acknowledgement, then turned his attention to Cassandra. "Seeker, maybe we should prepare to move out then, if it's to your pleasure? Though perhaps we should first dress your prisoner?"
Anna flushed, but a single glance up to the Breach in the sky destroyed all embarrassment as she nodded. "Agreed." Turning her head, she caught sight of the first servant passing. "You." The elven woman, all skin and bone, jumped in fright, then stared at Anna with wide eyes. "Take me to the armoury."
The elf hesitated, then turned a questioning look to a sighing Cassandra.
"Go ahead...we might need her blade."
Anna, her hand throbbing with pain but her mind full of the memory of a golden hand reaching out for her, followed the elf without hesitation.
Behind her, the dwarf chuckled. "So now we arm our prisoners? Seeker, did I make you soft?"
Again, Cassandra sighed.
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson, for the squeals of delight.