((I didn't get to edit this one as much, because I was at work, but I hope you all enjoy. Please rate and review and all that good stuff. :3 I'm surprised I got this out so fast.))

"Most Holy Called Out To You!"

Flashes of light. A blinding pain that ached right down to the teeth. Memories flooding in hot white waves.

"That means Demons stand ready!"

Screams. Pain. Silence. Death. That laugh, that accursed laugh, still ringing in the ears. A voice that shook the soul, whispering, no shouting, screaming. What was it saying, were they even words?

"Find a way to weaken it! Disrupt the Rift!"

Terror. That's what it was. Fear over something that should be a dream. Wait, it wasn't a dream though. Can Nightmares be real, wait, aren't nightmares always real. It's griping the chest, a heavy weight. Suffocating.

"No! Solas is in trouble!"

Can't breathe. Air, oh god, Air.

"Hurry! Varric, use a potion!"

Can't breathe…

"Seal the breach!"

Can't…

"Hurry"

Breathe.

/-\\\

The Prisoner sat up gasping for air. Her breath was ragged as if she was being held underwater, and her eyes hazy as she gripped her chest. She was clawing at it, like she was trying to rip something off. Slowly, she steadied her breaths, the irratic beating of her heart drifting into a soft flutter.

Crash

"You're Awake!"

The Prisoner jumped at the sound, and looked up at the owner of the voice. Scared wide eyes gazing back into scared wide eyes. A nervous elven woman, or at least that was what she supposed she was, from the pointed ears and all, fiddled nervously with her hands. Her words fumbled over each other as she desperately tried to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you-"

Throwing her hands up, "Hey calm down, no harm done! I'm awake!" The prisoner said, trying her best to calm the frantic woman. The elf didn't calm down though, and quickly dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground, afraid to meet her eyes again.

"I'm but a humble servent, I but ask for your forgiveness and blessing!" With that the elf quickly rose to her feet, wringing her hands in each other once again. "Lady Cassandra wanted to know the moment you where awake! She's in the chantry! Waiting!"

The Prisoner tried to calm her down, by standing up, yet all that seemed to do was startle the girl more. "At once she said!" And with that she ran quickly out the door. The Prisoner stood there, startled, and unsure even what a Chantry looked like.

She went to place her hands into her sweatshirt pockets, and was shocked when her hands found no pockets. It was the first time she actually looked at what she was wearing. A shirt, of shiny silvery white. Wait, do you call this a shirt or a tunic. And pants that where the same. Hold on where these buttons made of gold. Is that gold on the boots.

"WHO THE FUCK CHANGED ME!" She cried finally, when she was done doing a self inspection. A blush crept to her face as she walked around the small cottage she was in. There was a log by her night stand, with some scribbling that she couldn't read for it was in a language she didn't recognize. With a heavy sigh she placed it back on the night stand and went towards the door.

She opened it, being temporarily blinded by the bright light of the day. When her eyes refocused she felt a chill run down her skin as she stared at a hundred pair of eyes standing and looking at her. As she stepped out, they parted ways, as if she was splitting an ocean in two, all to clear a path for her. Soldier's crossed their arms across their chest, their eyes focused forward in a militaristic fashion she hadn't seen since her father.

She took a few more steps, looking over her shoulder, at every face she could. Her head was hung shyly as she walked, people all trying to catch a peak of her. Kids poked their heads out from between legs, others stood on their toes.

"That's her!"

"I heard she sealed the breach! Stopped it from getting any bigger!"

"I heard she was supposed to stop it all together."

"That's the Herald of Andraste."

Her foots steps quicken, until they turned into a run. People lining the whole path up towards the chantry, all gazing in awe at the strange girl. Walking towards what looked like a giant church, she pushed the large wooden doors open, trying to ignore the whispers of those around her. Inside the Chantry, it was mostly empty, and for that she was thankful. Silence was a blessed relief.

She took a few more steps, looking around for the tall dark haired woman named Cassandra. There was no sign of anyone though, and she started to grow nervous. She opened a few doors, poking her head in, calling out for her, but received no answer. It was only when she reached the back of the Chantry that she heard the familiar voice engaged in an argument.

She pushed the door open, and walked in, "I'm not interrupting am I?"

The Seeker looked up from the table she was gazing at, and the man she met earlier on the bridge, Chancellor Roderick, sneered. "I want this woman arrested and brought to Val Royeaux for execution immediately!" His angry shout caused the girl to freeze.

"Disregard that!" Cassandra ordered, and with a motion of her hand, sent the two armed guards standing behind the Prisoner away.

"What do you think you are doing Seeker?" He hissed, and Cassandra crossed her arms.

"She saved us Chancellor, and she did everything she could to stop the breach, she's earned our trust!" She said, and The Prisoner nodded her head.

"I did my best really, I nearly died doing it to…I think…" She said, her voice cracking slightly.

"And yet you live, how convenient." The Chancellor didn't even attempt to hide the venom in his words and The Prisoner held her head low.

"I tried." She said determined, gripping her own hand, much like the elven girl had done before. Cassandra stopped the argument, cutting off the Chancellor as talk turned to finding out who did it. Though, as selfish as it seemed, The Prisoner didn't have much of a want to find out, all she wanted to do was go home. Her job, her family, her friends (the few she did have), where all probably worried sick about her being gone. She shuttered slightly at the thought of her father rousing the National Guard to look for her.

Though it wasn't like it was completely uncommon for young women to go missing in New York.

Cassandra had successfully chased the chancellor out, throwing down a heavy book onto the table. The Prisoner was only half paying attention to anything she said, something about an Inquisition being reborn. "Look!" She said, interrupting the Seeker mid sentence. "I know, that everything looks like it's going to shit and all right now, but really…I just want to go home! My family probably misses me, and I have a job and-"

"Look…" Leliana, who was standing in the shadows, finally spoke. The way she did that made the Prisoner uncomfortable. "You are the only hope we have to find out who did this and seal the breach. That mark on your hand, is a gift from the Maker. He brought you to us."

A snort escaped from The Prisoner. "The Maker. He doesn't exist, that's crazy talk."

"Not long ago you thought demons didn't exist either…you where proven wrong in that…" Cassandra said and a heat rushed to The Prisoner's cheeks.

"Okay, whatever that is beside the point. I'm not some fucking chosen one and all that shit, I just am a normal mechanic, who wants to get home, I'm supposed to meet my family for Christmas!" She said, and Lelilana cocked her head to the side.

"What is this Christmas you speak of?" She asked and The Prisoner opened her mouth to explain, but shook her head. What used would it be to explain a holiday celebrating the birth of Christ in a world that didn't even know of it.

"I just want to go home."

Cassandra approached the young woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Do you hear what the people are calling you. They say that you are the Herald of Andraste. They saw you seal the breach, with your mark. You are their light when it is dark. If that does not mean you where sent by the Maker I do not know…"

The Prisoner bit her lip, hard enough that her teeth left marks in her lips. "This…Inquisition…What am I to do…"

/-\\

It had been days since Cassandra and Lelianna decided to start this Inquisition of theres, and The Herald was starting to get used to the world. Of course there was no indoor heating, or plumbing, nor where there any showers or things like that. Also she was pretty sure she would give her left hear for a McDouble right now, but all and all she was surprised by how much she was adapting.

Almost as surprised as Cassandra was when they learned that she had no idea how to even hold a sword. Cassandra insisted that they practice together, so she can learn to defend herself, but she was horrible at it. The Seeker insisted that when the Commander and Ambassador arrived she would start taking lessons from both of them. One in combat, the other in the history and politics of Thedas.

The Seeker and Leliana didn't quite believe the whole 'I'm from a different world, and this place is just a videogame that shouldn't exist' excuse. They think she hit her head too hard, and currently Leliana was doing her best to investigate just where in Thedas The Herald was from. It was almost amusing knowing that her efforts would yield nothing.

But here, sitting at the back of the Chantry, was the first moment of peace The Herald had since she arrived here. Her bruises where healing up, and the mark was only a dull pain that she could bare most of the time. Cassandra said it would be about a week before the Commander and Ambassador arrived, so she was taking in as much free time as possible.

She laid her head down on the snow, it's cool touch almost caressing her hot skin. When she was back in New York, she used to love the feeling of cold tools in the morning, but now the closest thing she had was the snow and a blade. It wasn't the same. She sucked in a deep breath, willing the tears away from the back of her eyes. This was no time to cry, to many things happening, to many things going to happen.

[How you holding up kid?]

"Great…" She muttered, throwing her arm over her face. "I'm hearing voices in my head now. I am so totally crazy…"

[Well perhaps…but not because of this…]

She removed her arm, and looked around, to see if there was some person or spirit hovering over her or something.

She saw nothing.

[Look over here to your right.]

She did, but still didn't see anyone.

[Lower]

She cast her eyes down a bit.

[Lower than that]

When she lowered her eyes all the way down to the ground, the only thing she was a pure white rabbit, staring back at her. It's nose twitched slightly, and The Herald let out a scoff.

"That's a Rabbit."

[I'm a Jackalope, see the horns]

"I'm talking to a Rabbit."

[Jackalope]

"Details."

[Well, you are quite rude to the spirit that kept you alive during your last encounter with some demons…] The Jackalope hopped over towards her and onto her chest, it's little nose still wiggling. She could more clearly see now that on the back of the rabbit it had a pattern that looked like a burst of sun, similar to that of the chantry.

With a sigh, The Herald sat up to look at the jackalope more clearly, "You where the voice I heard when I was in combat, the one telling me what to do."

It's nose twitched again, [That's correct. I'm a spirit of Battle, and I was sent from the fade to help you out. It just turned out that I can't communicate with you unless I have a mortal vessel available…and it just so happens that the closest thing near you at the time was-]

"That."

[Yes. But this form allows me to stay close to you, and help you when you require it.]

The Herald ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh, "Okay then…what should I call you?"

[Spirits of the Fade Don't have names, like mortals do.]

The Herald tapped her chin for a few seconds.

"How about Mr. Bunners."

[No.]

"Bunculies"

[No]

"Bundraste"

[No!]

"Mr. Bunny-Buns."

[You've got to be kidding me…]

The Herald sigh looked at the small rabbit, and petting it in between its antlers, "Well, Glitch then. Because it's obvious that's what you are…"