Disclaimer: I don't own anything, this is a work of fiction by a fan. All I did was come up with Isala's personality and her backstory. This is a work of fiction based off the world that the wonderful people at Bioware created. All elvhen I got from the Dragon age wiki and the loving dragon age community.
With a start, I sit up coughing, spluttering, and choking on air as my gut heaves. Bile rushes up, spilling down my front and splattering onto the ground. My stomach clenches, lurching and gagging me. The struggle between breathing and dry heaving, claws at my throat. My vision blurs, eyes watering as blood rushes in my ears, head spinning.
My arms shake beneath me as I move to my knees, and then feet. However, the movement twists my stomach with pain shooting up from my ankle which gives out from beneath me. Meeting the ground is rough; rocks and twigs bite into my flesh. A white cloud rises around me, choking and bitter on the tongue as it stinging my eyes.
I just lay there, my ankle screaming with pain as I take choking gasps of air, the dust burning my lungs and it all comes back. The darkspawn, the ogre, the children, and Mihris.
My clan is dead.
A different kind of pain blooms in my chest.
They're all dead, all gone. The thought of the lifeless shells of the children surrounding me, rips through my chest. Chasing it is the thought that it isn't just them, but also the destroyed aravels and blackened corpses of what once were lush healthy tree.
I clamber to my feet, like a newborn calf, legs wobbling, pain hounding my every step till I finally fall onto the side of a burnt aravel. The ruined campsite is worse than I expected. Leagues upon leagues of ash-covered grounds lay before me, smoldering or still burning aravel and corpses dot the landscape, my clan laying in the distance. Their remains, their armored corpses, covered in ash as it continued to fall from the sky.
Eerily echoing in the distance comes a thunderous roar. Is that another ogre? Oh creators, I need to leave—
The pain of mistakenly rough steps, brings me to my knees. Gingerly, I bring my ankle closer; even through the ash, I could see the swollen discoloration. I need to find the healer's aravel, or my own…if it's still here. Not only did my ankle require attention, but also my ribs throb with every breath, and the knife wound...
With the barest of touch, I touch my shoulder – Taking a sharp breath, I rip my hand away, the sting of soot on my hands a sharp bite that goes deep into my bones.
The groan and clatter of crumbling wood stirs ash back into the breeze and draws my eyes to the nearest aravel, and my breath catches. Though on it's side and there's a sizable hole in the bow, it was mostly whole and only slightly charred.
My family's aravel.
I make my way towards over, hobbling as my ankle buckles beneath me every now and then. The slow pace chews at my nerves as a wolf's howl echoes in the distance, my ears straining for the more sinister roar.
When I reach the aravel, I fall to my knees, crawling into the land ship and dragging myself towards the back. All the sacks and bedrolls are clustered on the seam of the floor and what was once the wall. I struggle to drag myself over the destroyed boards, finally reaching the cluster of bag with splinters filled hands and labored breath.
Rifling through the bags, relief fills me as I find Mamae's bag of injury kits and health potions. Uncorking a bottle, I throw back its contents, the tang of elfroot a welcomed taste as the aches recede and the pain lessens. Before wrapping my ribs, I down two more bottles, a pleasant warmth pooling in my belly as it chases the last of the pain away.
It feels like hours have passed before I am fully bandaged and my sack is packed with what food and what supplies are left. Grabbing the bedroll, I strap it to my back and pause as a lone howl fills the clearing.
It was so close, I could feel the call in my bones, and before the first one ended, three more echoed in the air. There is no way I can defend myself against a wolf, let alone a whole pack. A second chorus of howls, just as chilling as the first, rings out. It is all I need to motivate my legs.
Slowly, I retrace my steps before limping toward the head of camp. Cautiously I stoop to retrieve Mamae's bow, slinging it across my back. My eyes restlessly flick around the clearing, my ears straining over the thud of my pulse and breath. Both are too loud, the more I try to listen the louder they seem to get. Even the shuffling of my feet seems as loud as thunder as I continue limping my way through the wreckage in the clear.
Snap.
An involuntary squeal catches in my throat as I twist in the direction of the sound, drawing my daggers. A snarl comes from my left. My eyes focus on the aravels and I catch sight of a large black form darting behind them.
Run.
The word screams in my head, becoming a chant that beats with my pulse as I break into a dead sprint. They shouldn't chase me; there is plenty of food for them in the clearing. The sickening thought is little comfort to me as I run, weaving through the trees despite the protests of my ankle. Even after all the elfroot, it threatens to give out from beneath me.
My foot catches on a gnarled root and I stubble forward, catching myself on a tree. My chest burns, my sides feeling overly stretched as I lean against the tree. Taking that moment to rest, placing my head against the cool mossy trunk. I close my eyes and gulp in air as if I had just broken through the surface of a lake.
I just barely hear it over my thrumming pulse, soft footfalls coming from behind me. Stiffening, I slowly glance over my shoulder. In the soft green light filtering in through the trees, four pairs of eyes glitter back at me. For wolves, they looked all wrong, hair having fallen off in clumps, leaving flesh raw and exposed. Thick, spine-like clumps of hair sprout along their spines, a second set of claws growing above the first on their paws.
Fen'benal.
These wolves were tainted. Even if my ankle was whole, I wasn't going to be able to outrun them for long. Climbing a tree is out of the question. I slowly begin inching around the tree, my eyes locked on the leading wolf. As soon as the tree was between us, I took off. I scramble to put distance between us, and there was a pause, no sound of chase. For a moment, I hoped they had abandoned their interest of me.
However, as I weave through the trees, crashing through the low hanging branches I hear teeth snapping behind me. I could practically feel the hot breath washing over my neck.
Oh creators no.
With a cry, I push myself faster, my pack thumping against me. It agitates my side further, shortening my breath. Mythal help me. I try to lengthen my stride, my ankle burning as my feet pound against the ground. As I weave through the trees, the forest slowly starts to become lush. I crash into thick brambles, blindly fighting my way through. It all but stops me the further I go in, catching my hair but for a moment, it gives the wolves pause. The pain has tears streaming down my face as I finally break through, my skin stinging as the air washes over my cuts.
Suddenly, air greets my step. A high shrill scream tears from my throat as I'm sent plummeting me to the ground. I crash into the side the ravine, landing on my shoulder as I'm sent spinning down to the bottom. My vision swims, my shoulder numb and my whole chest on fire. My hair, caked with mud and tangled with leaves, obscures my sight. The edge of the ravine continues to dance as I try to focus. There is snarling and the forms of eight, no four, wolves crest the rise. They pace and snap at each other as they stare down at me.
My vision starts to settle, I weakly try to sit up, but my shoulder shoots a pain down my spine that has my stomach clenching and my breath catching in my throat. Nausea washes over me, I fall back onto the ground staring up at them with near helpless horror when one jumps down. It slips and slides, tumbling all the way down to the bottom. I scramble back, with one arm and one leg uselessly flopping against the ground. It stalks forward, bringing its putrid stench with it. My mouth waters in disgust, stomach clenching and threatening to empty itself as the smell of rot and putrefying wounds get stronger. The wolf is now mere feet away from me, it crouches down, eyes locked on me as it leaps forward.
I can barely fling my arm up fast enough; my forearm stops it from locking its jaws around me. My hand can barely find a grip as clumps of fur and festering wounds leave me holding nothing. Warm spit coats my face as fangs almost scrape my cheek. The wolf surges forward and my arm gives for a moment, the sharp feeling of teeth rake across my throat, spurring me to push back with both arms. The sickening shot of pain hits me again as a light bursts from my palms and the wolf shoots back, hitting the wall of the ravine. The snapping of bone and a pained yelp rings out. Ice spreads across its prone form from the ice spike protruding from its chest. Hostile snarls come from the ledge above me, the other three wolves testing the edge. I hold my breath, not sure if I could do that again.
The creators bless me, as the wolves seem to loose interest, going to chase after something that's crashing in the brush behind them. I drop my upper body back onto the earth, staring at the leaves above.
Magic. I had forgotten that I was able to... With a feeling of disbelief, I touch my throat, wetting my fingers with blood. The keeper could heal us, so one would assume that I could as well yes? With shaky breaths I close my eyes, almost calming as I groped for the ability to do so. It felt like eons passed before I opened my eyes once again and dropped my hand from my throat. Can I not heal myself? Was I so weak in ability that I could only do the destructive magic of ice?
The chill of the mud sinking in pulls me from my growing panic. With my good arm, I roll over, biting my lip as all my weight shifts onto my shoulder. I manage to sit up and fumble my pack off my shoulders. With shaking fingers I pick at the tie of my pack; letting out a weak sigh as it finally opens and I fish out a bottle of Mamae's regeneration potion as well as one of elf root. Downing them both, I pull out a small smashed thing of bread. With a tentative bite, I slowly chew it, letting it settle in my stomach before taking another. I move onto a second small loaf and can not stop myself from scarfing down the whole thing before moving onto water. I end up gulping down half of the pouch before I could get myself to stop. Tucking away the pouch and reclosing my pack, I lick my lips, eying the ledge behind me.
I roll my shoulders, testing for pain and silently thanking the gods when there is very little. Mamae's potions were a little strong, but they helped more than I expected. Still my ankle wasn't ready for more use, I begin making a splint as I make a think of a plan. Most clans were heading east towards Orlais or north to the harbors like my clan had been. I had foolishly raced into the forest without taking stock of what direction I was going. Although, mother had said there was a ravine to the east, leading towards the Drakon River so this must be it. I should just follow it till I reach an easier point to climb.
Eying the ledge behind me with skepticism once more, I shoulder my pack. I couldn't make that climb no matter what idea I came to mind. I let out a frustrated sigh and start hobbling down the ravine, my ankle little more than a dull throb.
The day slowly grows old. The forest begins to settle as the last of the sun slips away. I haven't gotten far. With all the breaks and my slow pace, I'd barely made it more than a mile down from where I fell. My stomach is gripped with hunger; my body throbs whenever I move. Sleep has begun tugging at my eyes, clouding my vision till I can barely see the ledge of the ravine as it grows darker.
Slowly the night morphs the forest from green to shades of blue and hues of purple. I admit defeat, needing to rest if only for a little while. Leaning against the cold wall of the ravine, I slowly slide down until I rest on the bottom. The chill slowly sets in, seeping into my bones, as my eyes grow heavier before they fall shut completely.
I'm beginning to grow tired of being surrounded by mud, having walked in the ravine for two days now I was starting to think I'm going the wrong way. I've run out of water and sleep eludes me, having often heard the sounds of snuffling along the ledge as well as distant howls have staved off all desires of sleep. I'm sorely tempted to scale the side of the ravine using the roots, my ankle be damned. Though, as the day grows to a close I stumble on the spot I was looking for. It was clearly an animal trail, slender and rather steep, but far easier to scale then the rest of the walls had been. Limping my way up the trail I almost let out a small cry of joy as I see the trees thinning in the distance. The faint sound of traveling liquid catches my ear; my mouth becomes dry as I move down the trail.
The last light of the day has slipped beyond the mountains when I break free of the forest. Glittering in the moonlight, just a few yards away, is what I assume is the head of the second branch of the Drakon River. Limping away from the edge of the forest, I drop my pack at the water's edge, eagerly shedding my clothes and split before gingerly stepping in. Its coolness a sharp and bittersweet relief for my ankle, I fill my water pouches before slipping fully into the deeper parts of the river.
I stay in there, floating for much longer than I should have. The night grows later and my stomach rumbles loudly, eventually motivating me back to the bank. After dressing I sit with my feet in the water, chewing on strips of dried meat from what little food I have left. From somewhere off in the distance there is a pained cry, howls and distant snarls follow it shortly after. I doubt the blighted wolves will follow me out of the woods, but there is little about them that is predictable. That fact is enough to don my splint and push me to my feet, continuing down stream a ways until I could cross. I did not want to be on the other side of those jaws again. Through the night, the occasional howl echoed from the forest, spurring me on and chasing any thought of sleep from my mind until they sound far more distant than before.
It has been days since that night, all of them restless as I keep moving to keep distance between me and any pursuers that follow me into the thin grove of trees I entered two nights back. My ankle getting worse, with each step, having little rest was not aiding the healing. Having taken up a walking stick, I now could hobble along at walking speed.
Days continue to pass, my stomach rumbles, bringing my newest torment to my mind. Having ran out of food two days ago, I have started surviving off of herbs, berries, and roots that I could find along the animal trails I follow. It did little to fill me and keep me going, but I don't have the strength to hunt, let alone fend off predators attracted by my kill. Then, right as I thought I'd made it through the thick of it, a heavy rain storm hits in the middle of the night. Thick sheets of rain come down constantly, slowing my travel to little more than a crawl. The animal trail becomes a thick soupy mix of mud and foliage, leaving me to cover what should have taken half a day in two. I haven't seen any sign of a clan nearby, I begin to think that I'm just hobbling around the grove aimlessly and lost.
Three days after the rain, I finally break free of the grove. Wide expansive plains spread out before me and for a moment, I feel joy well up in my gut. That joy quickly turns into a sharp pain, dropping me to my knees as my stomach rolls so fiercely my body heaves to expel what isn't there. Spots dance before my eyes; the plains spin, swirling into the sky as I look up. Then all I have is a mouth full of pine needles and dirt. My stomach rolls again, I gag on the debris filling my mouth as I convulse on the ground. Everything sounds so distant; my body feels heavy yet so light.
The soft sound of rustling leaves morphs into a rhythmic crunching of leaves, slowly it grows louder, faster, like a well formed song. I feel so warm; my arms lift up high, as if I'm touching the clouds while my body floats. I'm bouncing around, with soft chant melds into the hum of nature, all I see are the clouds before my sight drifts to black.