"They said you… stepped out of the rift. Then fell unconscious." Cassandra explained to Lavellan as they headed in the direction of the now-destroyed Conclave. "They say a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was."
.
.
The air was heavy, filled with a deep thrum accompanied by the clicks and shrieks of the monsters behind her. A golden hand reached out to her, a figure draped in light, her only hope…
.
.
"Everything farther into the valley was laid waste. Including the Temple of Sacred Ashes." Cassandra's voice broke her reverie. "I suppose you'll see soon enough."
Lavellan shook her head to rid herself of the broken memories filtering in. Boohoo, I don't care about the urn of blessed dust and allergies. I mean ashes. Whatever. Honestly, why were the ashes of a burned body considered holy? That was a dead person in there! People were weird.
Cassandra led Lavellan across another bridge as they ventured deeper into the valley. The closer they got to the Breach, the more frequently debris would fall from the sky, alit with a green glow like a strange comet. One of these falling stars crashed into the bridge ahead of them. The soldiers cried out in panic as the stone trembled beneath their feet and began to crumble.
Lavellan gasped as the ground gave out underneath her, flailing her arms out in a desperate attempt to regain her balance. It was a fruitless effort, as she tumbled forward in an ungraceful heap and felt the bricks digging into various body parts on her way down. Luckily, instinct kicked in as the ice below them rushed up to meet her, and she rolled as her body hit the solid water, minimizing the impact.
Her head shot up to take in her surroundings, shaking the hair from her eyes. Would the world please stop falling apart?! She snarled inwardly. Andruil's knickers!
Another green light was incoming from the sky, accompanied by the gradually increasing sound of crackling fire. The sickly comet crashed through a rock ledge and continued into the frozen river, shattering the ice. That made her and Cassandra scramble to their feet, its proximity worrying.
As the green smoke and glittering ice dust cleared, Lavellan felt her breath catch as a shadow emerged from the fading sparks.
Holy shit holy shit. Her thoughts raced in panic. That's a shade. Like, a fucking demon fucking Fade shit!
A growl emanated from one of the shades, twin points of light pricking the impenetrable darkness of its hood, a black void where its face should be. Wisps of smoke curled up from its form, its hands tipped with long claws, its body moving sibilantly.
B-But that's impossible! Her eyes darted back and forth between the demon and the Breach. They shouldn't exist physically outside the Fade without a host. They can't. I know they can't!
However it appeared that logic was refusing to cooperate with her on that day. Cassandra swung her shield in front of her and drew her sword. With a war cry, she rushed at the shade, slamming into the first one with her shield.
A crackling at her feet alerted her to the arrival of another green-glowy-portal-thingy (it was called a 'rift' right? Yeah, that sounded right…). Lavellan cautiously backed away from the glowing circle as green energy condensed around it and suddenly a dark, puke-green crystal shot out from it with the sound of clanking metal. The crystal retreated back into the magical circle, leaving behind… another shade.
Tits of Andraste! She swore inwardly, backing away and cursing her helplessness, glancing around for anything that could help her fight this stupid thing.
There!
Scattered among the wreckage of the soldiers' things, were two blades. Highland dirks. Nearly tripping over her feet, Lavellan skittered across the ice and over to the daggers. She slid the last few feet across the ice and snatched up the blades, quickly weighing them in her hands.
Ugh, crappy iron and covered in nicks. Their previous owner had clearly not taken any care for them. But whatever, they were sharp and pointy, and right now she really needed something stabby to defend herself with.
The shade that had followed her growled and lashed out. Lavellan was already moving, ducking under its wide reach and sliding a dagger across its side in her wake. Coming up behind it, before it had the chance to register her escape, she stabbed it through the back. But its back gave way easily, the dulled blade penetrating its ragged robes. Much to Lavellan's growing disbelief, the lack of resistance that met her blow meant one thing: no flesh.
What the –?
The demon swirled around and swung its arm in an arc, swatting her away like a fly. She landed on her butt and skidded across the ice. The creature snarled and began to approach her. The elf leapt to her feet, blades still in hand, and began to dance around it, dodging its claws and littering its body with cuts and lacerations. A normal person would have bled out by now.
How do you kill something that has no body!? She thought in frustration.
The shade swung around and lunged for her. She ran forward to meet it, and dropped to her knees at the last moment, sliding underneath the demon across the ice. Leaping up just as the monster turned back to meet her, Lavellan snarled back at it as she sunk both daggers hilt-deep into the darkness where its face should have been. The shade screamed and burst into smoke, its rags falling to the ground as it seemed to sink into a puddle of ink before that too went up in smoke.
Huh. Well I guess that answers that question. She poked the remaining rags cautiously, catching a whiff of rot and decay. Lavellan wrinkled her nose at that and turned around to check up on Cassandra.
Just in time too, as she caught the warrior woman slide her longsword completely through the middle of the first shade, impaling it easily. The woman withdrew her sword and scowled down at the pile of rags left behind by the demon.
Lavellan sighed and cautiously approached her. When the Cassandra noticed her approach, her eyes flickering to the blades in her hands, she rounded her sword upon the elf.
"Drop your weapons. Now." She ordered.
Oh for fuck's sake! Lavellan bit back a rather scathing comment. Instead, she tightened her grip on her blades and met Cassandra's gaze resolutely.
"If you're gonna drag me through a demon-infested valley, I'd rather not." She snapped.
Cassandra hesitated for a moment, and then nodded stiffly. She straightened and sheathed her sword. "Fine. It is better this way. I cannot protect you."
There, that wasn't so hard, was it? The snarky thought was her only consolation. Lavellan refrained from saying anything more, however. Her tongue had a bad habit of getting her into trouble.
Cassandra began to walk back towards the bank of the river. When they reached the path, she paused and sent her an apologetic glance. "I should remember that you agreed to come willingly."
Lavellan studied the human woman for a second, and then slowly nodded. It was as close to an apology as she would ever get. It said much about Cassandra's character. Lavellan knew that if she had been in Cassandra's place, she would not have shown nearly so much trust in a stranger, regardless of the impending doom.
After the warrior woman presented a few health potions to Lavellen, the two of them began crossing through the wilderness and deeper into the valley. Cassandra told her that their forces had gathered at the forward camp, overlooking the Breach. No one knew how to get rid of it – but at the same time, no one was willing to leave it unobserved.
Lavellan was not uneducated on the subject of magic. She knew that demons could not exist in the real world without a host. Very few non-magic folk would ever see the true face of a demon in their lifetimes. For these shades to be popping up everywhere meant that the Fade was not just torn – the veil between this world and the next was thinning.
The two women fought their way through the throngs of demons as they approached a ruined cluster of buildings. Anything that wasn't made of stone was on fire, while the cries of men and shrieks of demons filled the air. Cassandra and Lavellan came up from what appeared to be the back of the small village, coming to a short ledge that overlooked a small battle between the local militia and the shades. Above them hovered a ball of green light – a rift.
Cassandra immediately leapt down into the fray, Lavellan following behind her. Idly, the elf noted that someone was shooting ice bolts at the shade, and wondered at the fact that these soldiers willingly fought next to a mage, despite how suspicious people were of magic these days. As the last of the demons were cut down, she felt the mark on her hand pulsate in tandem with the rift above them. She approached the rift, and was intercepted by a tall and bald elven man holding a mage staff.
Ah, so this is our mage friend.
"Quickly! Before more come through!" He exclaimed, grabbing her hand and thrusting it up and literally into the rift.
Hey! Personal space! She thought just before her mark came into contact with the rift. Shhhhit!
Lavellan gasped. The magic flowing in and around the rift flooded her being, coalescing around the mark. The thing on her hand acted like a magnet, drawing the magic into itself and in turn, closing the rift. It was again accompanied by the feeling of energy jolting down her arm, like a static shock, except this time she was holding onto a bolt of lightning. It zapped up through her arm and traveled into her body, down to the tips of her toes, making them curl.
As the rift seemed to suck itself closed, she found the strength to break the bond between her mark and the magic. She ripped her arm out of the elven man's hold, glaring at him as she pointedly cradled her arm to her chest, the muscles still spasming and trembling from the touch of magic.
"A little warning would have been nice." She growled at him. Geez, did he even know if that would work or not? She could have been sucked in! Still, the fact that her glowing hand was somehow connected to those rift-things was unsettling.
Her eyes flitted to the empty air were the hole into the fade had once been. "What… What did you do?"
"I did nothing." The elf shrugged. "The credit is yours."
He gave her a small smile, his eyes crinkling. She watched him for a moment, narrowing her eyes at his placid answer, resisting the urge to slap the buffoon. His expressions were well-practiced, but far from genuine. She knew a fake smile when she saw one – but there were more important matters.
Such as the annoying spark of ugly green on her hand.
Glancing down, Lavellan uncurled her fist and wiggled her fingers, watching as the light seemed to hover just beneath the skin, yet its sparks did not burn or cut as they leapt out.
"You mean this?" Again with the 'this'. Lavellan held up her hand, keeping it away from her face as she narrowed her eyes and scrutinized it. Then she jiggled her hand a bit, flopping it limply, the weird light-thingy bobbing up and down with it.
The elf did not look amused.
"Whatever opened that Breach in the sky also placed that mark on your hand." The elf informed her. "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."
Bu - Wha – You –theorized?! You little shit, what if you weren't correct? I'd be dead, you ass! Lavellan bit the inside of her cheek.
"Meaning that it could also close the Breach itself." Cassandra concluded, entering the conversation as she wiped demon dust off of her sword and approached them.
Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Lavellan glanced at the human sharply. Please tell me that she is not actually considering sending me up against the Breach. Let some other brave idiot do that.
"Possibly." The mage across from her conceded.
You're not helping, asshole.
He glanced back to her. "It seems that you hold the key to our salvation."
Lavellan narrowed her eyes and gave the mage the dirtiest scowl she could muster. Oh no. Oh HELL no. I'm not some knight in shining armor. The big shots can deal with saving the world, not me!
"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." A different voice spoke from behind all of them, gritty and snarky.
Lavellan stopped glaring at the warrior and mage, turning to see a rather odd-looking dwarf approach them. The first thing that struck her was that he had no beard – however he more than made up for that with a glorious bed of chest hair (not that she was attracted, mind you… but it was rather hard to tear her eyes away from it). Her view was interrupted, however, as he gave her a brief bow in greeting.
"Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong." The dwarf sent a wink towards Cassandra at the last part, earning a sneer from the woman. Lavellan felt her brows rise at the unusual amount of warmth he showed her when everyone else was blaming her for the end of the world. She found herself unwillingly softening towards Varric, surprisingly more trusting of this durgen'len than she was of her fellow elf or the human. It was probably a rogue thing – at least rogues admitted to keeping secrets and hiding in shadow. Cassandra was still ready to blame her for the attack on the Conclave, and the elf mage was too… nice. She didn't trust people that were overly nice. Their smiles annoyed her.
Still, Varric's presence was rather confusing. What was a dwarf doing here? The Conclave had been a human affair – elven mages notwithstanding. The dwarves were the last people who needed to be concerned with the mage-templar tensions. And she doubted that Varric was a representative from Orzammar – even just a cursory glance told her that he was too surfacer.
"Are you with the Chantry, or…?" She prompted in a dry voice.
The mage snorted. "Is that a serious question?"
Of course not, egghead. Lavellan resisted the urge to roll her eyes and simply ignored the other elf.
Varric rubbed his hands together, a wry smirk on his face. "Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you."
Ah, how ironic. And rogues did so love irony. Lavellan returned the dwarf's smirk.
"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine." Cassandra butted in, glaring at Varric. Man that woman knew how to glare. "Clearly, that is no longer necessary."
That's one way of putting it. Lavellan thought with an inward snicker.
"Yet here I am." Varric spread his arms and gestured to himself as if he were a gift from the gods. "Lucky for you, considering current events."
Lavellan's eyes flickered to the dwarf's weapon of choice. The crossbow was an unusual weapon for a dwarf – their society tended to prefer axes and mauls and daggers. They were an aggressive bunch after all. Dwarves liked to be in the thick of the fray. Varric, however, handled the crossbow like a professional.
And it was a beautiful crossbow. Her rogue eyes eagerly picked out the intricate gears and bolts, noting that its design was extremely advanced. Whoever created it was clearly a genius. It was a weapon far beyond its day.
"That's a nice crossbow you have there." Lavellan drawled, eyeing its design hungrily. Oh how she would love to figure out how that baby ticked.
Varric noted her greedy eyes and smirked back. "Ah-ah, Bianca is mine." He reached back and cradled the weapon's handle possessively. "Bianca and I have been through a lot together."
"You named your crossbow?" Lavellan asked, amused. It was not unusual for a fighter to name their weapons, although it was usually reserved for very special cases.
"Of course!" Varric smiled smugly. "And she'll be great company in the valley."
"Absolutely not!" Cassandra snapped at her dwarven rival. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but – "
"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" Varric interrupted her. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore! You need me."
Seeker? Lavellan darted a glance at the human. She vaguely remembered one of the guards requesting a Seeker during her imprisonment, but she had not remembered it until now. And to be honest, she simply had not thought about Cassandra's involvement too much at this point. Or any involvement. Half of her still thought that this was all an elaborate dream!
Cassandra harrumphed at the dwarf and strode away in agitation. During their spat, Lavellan's fellow elf approached her, giving her a slight bow.
"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live."
No thanks to you and your crazy experimentations.
"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept'." Varric said amusedly, joining them now that Cassandra was no longer glowering at him.
I take that back… for now. Lavellan studied Solas a little more carefully now. He came off as scholarly, however that practiced smile of his was too rogue. He was dangerous as well, and smart enough to hide it.
"I am Banal'ras of the Lavellan Clan." She introduced herself in a bland tone, ignoring the curious look that the mage shot her. Cassandra and Varric merely nodded absently.
"That's kind of a long name, isn't it?" Varric mused.
"It is." She deadpanned, clearly unwilling to say any more on the matter. The dwarf pouted at that.
"Solas is an apostate." Cassandra's voice cut in as she stopped glaring at Varric long enough to address them. Lavellan had to give her credit for hiding her clear distaste for the free-range mage.
Solas sent the human a bemused look. "Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra."
Well… he's got a point. The look on Cassandra's face told them that she was not so amused.
"My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade; far beyond the experience of any Circle mage." The elf turned back to address Lavellan. "I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin."
How ominous. She should start a drinking game. Maybe she'd tally up the number times someone preached doom and gloom upon the world, and when this shit show was over, she take a shot for each one. With how things were going, she might just die from alcohol poisoning. What a way to go!
"Well, isn't that just peachy? Suddenly I'm the 'key to salvation'. Looks like I won't be getting back to the clan any time soon." Lavellan grumped, crossing her arms and looking away. Black strands fell into her face at the movement, and with an annoyed huff, she blew them out of her face. "Not with this thing attached to my hand like a parasite."
The elf glanced at the disapproving scowl of Cassandra. "Not to mention I'd never escape with her on my ass." She muttered, and Varric snorted beside her.
"You hold the key to saving the entire world, and you would just abandon that?!" Cassandra asked her incredulously.
"Oi, I said I would stay!" The smaller woman protested.
"For all the wrong reasons!" Cassandra retorted. "For selfish reasons!"
"Yeah, well I never claimed to be a saint!" Lavellan snarked back. "The only reason why I'm still alive is because I'm a selfish bitch, and I look out for myself!"
Cassandra opened her mouth to continue, but Solas held up his hands, placating both of the women. "Please! Now is not the time!"
Cassandra seemed to regain control of herself and nodded, sending a last dirty look at the Dalish before she backed down. Lavellan grudgingly agreed with the apostate, turning away to smooth her face and wrestle down her thoughts.
"Cassandra, you should know," She heard Solas continue to speak to the Seeker behind her. "The magic involved here is unlike any I have seen. Your prisoner is not a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."
Would you stop calling me that? I literally just told you my name. She felt her eyebrow twitch.
Cassandra quickly snapped back to business. "We must get to the forward camp quickly." She said, striding away from them and down the beaten path. Solas followed after her without another word, but Lavellan hung back to watch them, the dwarf quiet at her side.
Last chance to escape.
Ugh, if only it were that easy. She had always been selfish, shaped by events beyond her control. Once, she would have liked to think that she could be the hero that they needed. But realistically, she knew that wasn't true. Lavellan was no leader, no soldier, and there had been many times that her possession of a conscience had been questionable… but even she could not deny the end of the world.
The elleth groaned and ran her fingers through her hair, yanking at it when they became caught in the knots. "Fuck this." She muttered. "Fuck it all."
Beside her, the dwarf chuckled. "Well, Bianca's excited!" He smiled up at her half-heartedly.
"I'm not!" She whined.
Varric just laughed and patted her arm consolingly.
Banal'ras means 'shadow' in Elven
Also, sometimes I use the word 'elleth' to denote a female elf. It's from Lord of the Rings.
