"This wasn't the work of ordinary men." Dorian grimaced, nudging at the hideous corpse on the side of the road with the muddy toe of his once well-conditioned boot. The disturbing lack of skin, the brutality of the snapped limbs and twisted, castoff pose were enough to make even an ironclad stomach turn. The poor fool would have been lucky to have died before the receiving the brunt of the many visible injuries. The sprays and smears of blood that tinged the road and rock, however, spoke of a merciless end. "Still pretty fresh though, see how the tissue hasn't even gone rigid yet."
She fought the urge to gag as they moved past the fly-covered pieces of the newest carcass. For once, she was glad to have been too rushed to eat much of a breakfast. Chiyo chose quickly not to linger on the body at the Tevinter mage's feet, averting her eyes from the revolting carnage. A clean death was something of value that all creatures deserved if they weren't left to meet a natural end. Hunters were praised not only for their skill and ability to fell prey but for the blunt compassion they showed and the suffering they prevented. This was a bad death, as had all the others been. The trail of bodies they had stumbled across was becoming more disconcerting by the find.
In the distance, they all heard a guttural bellow, followed by an unintelligible cacophony of screams and shouts that reverberated throughout the surrounding crags and knolls. Cole tugged at the sides of his wide-brimmed hat, pulling the discolored edges down over his ears. He groaned with empathetic anguish, muttering of fear and pain swirling from too many sources all at once.
The Inquisitor could feel deep tremors rippling across the earth beneath her lightly wrapped feet. A vibration met her toes and pulsed up her shins, leaving the knees above near to shaking from the energy. And from the look of it, by the way he'd braced himself, Solas had certainly felt them too. "Something is wrong here."
"Horribly wrong." Solas tightened the grip on his gnarled staff before bolting ahead. He could waste no more time. Chiyo and the others followed him up the rocky path, heading higher into the broken hillsides. The shouting became louder and clearer as they went, acting as a startling guide through the twisting prominences. Wet, red spots dribbled along the abandoned road drove the seeking party ever faster towards the unknown peril.
It wasn't long before they spotted a monstrous figure, hunched over and howling in pain. It struggled to escape the punishing confines of a magical barrier; each thrash drew more energy from the enchanted circle crafted for its suppression. Too many beady eyes flicked irately over the tiny, panicked mages that tried to hold the enraged Pride demon back. One of the exhausted humans dragged away the unresponsive body of a fallen comrade, quickly removing them from the gouged edge of the pillared circle. Blood trickled from gargantuan claws and the hostile creature shrieked once more, shattering the clear, bright morning.
Solas motioned a full halt to the others as they neared, blocking them from coming any closer as he stared at the demon being forced to bend lower and lower to the trampled ground. If the apostate was afraid or angry it could not be so readily determined, his sharp features had turned as hard and unfeeling as the neighboring boulders and peaks of stone. But his blue eyes burned icy and sharp as he assessed the horror his frantic dreams had led him too.
"This looks like no friend of ours. There is little left for us here..." Dorian cautioned as he caught Cole by the arm, preventing the youth from dashing ahead in his hastened urge to help. Dagger in hand, the boy had nearly leapt into the fray, prepared to end the misery that festered before him by the best means he had. This spirit wanted nothing more than to return to the Fade, it was only a matter of release.
"That is not its natural form, it's been corrupted. Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do!" Solas went numb with a deeply stirred rage that obliterated his more reserved sensibilities. The fate of his tormented friend had already been sealed and his aid had come far too late. He did not rise to this anger, he slowly sank into it. Slipping below the thin, frozen crust of hatred and plunging straight through to the chilly waters of freely flowing wrath. The apostate's clenching fingers crunched, breaking the white, icy crystals that escaped his control. His gaze went steely and distant, narrowed with desolate grief. The unmoving mage could feel himself turn deadly cold as a portly, sapped looking fellow approached, holding up his clammy hands in needless warning.
"Let's try to find out what's going on. Give them a chance to explain." The Inquisitor tried to be tactful in advance of the situation falling to violence, to keep as best a rein she could on her companions. The tension in the air was already palpable and she feared greatly that the wrong word or move would ignite the powder keg they'd walked into. She had long assumed that Solas was fairly capable of becoming enraged if pushed too far. It was always the quiet ones you had to look out for when they finally snapped. But seeing it manifest, anger seeping into his words and setting his teeth on edge made her wary. Instinct, deep and screaming in warning, told her to run before she became a side casualty in the imminent eruption. Willpower alone rooted her to the spot—she would not abandon him, regardless of what brewed just below the normally composed surface.
Sweat ran down the advancing man's face, dampening his thin moustache and dark hair to his pallid skin. He cried out with exuberant relief. "A mage! Several mages! You're not with the bandits? Do you have any lyrium potions? Most of us are exhausted. We've been fighting that demon for days now. Just this morning were we able to finally pin it down!" He gestured to the grunting monster that was being forced into a tight crouch against the rocky earth, the intensive efforts of its captors wearing it down bit by bit. Away from the Fade and blocked from the energies there that sustained it, the Pride demon was just as stalled as the mages around it.
Solas' constricted glare would have pierced holes straight through the unknown man as he rose to his full height, no longer the diffident and near docile apostate he'd carefully assumed to be. It was easy to overlook how much bigger he was than most elves, by the way he carried himself in a compacted slouch. The mage stood more than a head taller than the diminutive Inquisitor, rivaling even the gangly, boyish length of Cole. Pride steeled his ordinarily slackened, broad shoulders and strength lifted his chest, giving wind to the verbal hostility that followed. "You summoned that demon, except it was a spirit of wisdom at the time! You made it kill! You twisted it against its purpose!" He spat, lips curling into a hardened snarl over his clenched teeth.
Cole whispered coarsely from behind the sagging rim of his hat, fingering the edge of his blade, but he no longer yanked against the firm grasp that held him back. "Were there fangs to tear wide the flesh. Go for the throat. Silence the weak fool. Sinew and blood will feed the hate-" was all he managed before being sternly hushed by the apprehensive Inquisitor.
Startled by the swelling power and strange company the dubious mage tried to explain, his moustache quivering over his thin lip. Fear trembled in his watery eyes as he addressed the sullen man that accused him. "I-I understand how it might be confusing to someone who has not studied demons, but after you help us, I can—"
His words snapped in a deep bark. Resentment sizzled off Solas' tongue as he stepped forward, his full attention never leaving the leader of the guilty group even as his ruined friend howled anew. He brandished his staff, driving the alarmed man backwards. "We're not here to help you. I've had enough of your imprudent conversation already. There are no excuses for such flagrant cruelty."
Taking a deep breath and bracing her tenaciousness against every protesting fiber of her being, Chiyo stepped between the two mages. Blocking the furious elf in his circling stalk, she cautiously angled Solas' weapon away with her open, marked palm. The power stored in the anchor seared bright, polarized by the building energies Solas was pulling through the runed staff. She turned a cautioning eye, paying little heed to the mage she held at bay. "Word of advice? I would hold off on explaining how demons work to my friend here."
"Listen to me," The condescending man begged as he stumbled away, stiffening against the high rock that flanked him. He looked to his frazzled comrades, but they could not come to his aid and control the demon simultaneously. "I was one of the foremost experts in the Kirkwall circle—"
"Shut. Up." The arctic, bitter words were enough to lessen the fortitude of the other mage's joints. He sunk to the ground haplessly. Days of minimal rest, filled with fear and extreme use of magic left him terribly weakened. The added stress of a vicious looking elf near to bearing down upon him stole everything that was left in him. "You summoned it, to protect you from the bandits."
"I—yes…" The far from home mage did not deny his desperate but reprehensible actions. It had been his decision and he'd followed the guide to the letter. The spirit had done as they'd finally pressed it into doing, but they had not anticipated such a hazardous reaction as a full-blown manifestation of one of the worst demons from the Fade.
Pushing past the shielding Inquisitor, he wrenched his staff free. Solas continued to berate the fallen man. "You bound it to obedience, and then commanded it to kill. That's when it turned." The elf shook his head in indignation and loathing, trying to clear his mind, to think more effectively but the hate would not leave and the anger would not diminish. He turned once more to the corrupted spirit, assessing the spell that had been constructed for foul purpose. It would be dismantled, even if he had to do it alone and with bare hands. "The summoning circle, we must break the binding. No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon."
"Are you insane?" All the remaining color drained from the Kirkwall native's round face. The obviously disturbed man before him clearly did not comprehend the first thing about demons. Years of study under the best tutors and the most elite, distinguished teachers could not be wrong. Spirits and magic existed to serve; he'd given countless speeches and demonstrations in regards to summoning. He couldn't fathom what an apostate could know to rival his own loftier insight. "Even you must grasp that the binding is the only thing keeping the demon from killing us! Whatever it was before, this spirit of wisdom so you say, it is a monster now!"
Solas turned in dismay, looking over his shoulder to Chiyo. His pained eyes beseeched where his words could not. He could bear the fool cringing at his feet no more and deferred to the only party whose understanding he would presently accept. "Inquisitor, please."
"I'll do everything I can to spare your friend." She had already thrown aside her travel pack. Chiyo was prepared to give her all, even though she was frightened of the task at hand. Her knuckles were already whitening and her fingers grew damp around the staff's wrapped grip. Fighting demons she could handle, she'd been forced into doing it on countless occasions, but saving one was an entirely foreign matter.
"Thank you." The demon before them caught new wind, struggling once more to rid itself of its captors who were already at their breaking point. They fled for their lives as the horrendous beast broke their restraints, screeching to the heavens above in wrath and misery.
"We must hurry!" directed Solas, time and control of the situation slipping irrepressibly through his grasp. He threw a barrier as the others assembled, knowing it would be their only defense from the massive claws and vicious assaults of the creature that could no longer recognize friend from foe.
"Do we even have a plan?" Dorian asked in exasperation, casting his own passive spell to charge the very air around them. With the ambient energies of the Fade already drawn on by the previous manipulations of the Kirkwall mages and the presence of a formidable being, the whole area teemed with rampant magic free for the taking.
"Keep the demon distracted, but do not engage unless we have no other choice!" Solas cautioned and pointed to the first tall, glistening summoning stone. "If we can break all of those the spirit will be released."
"Cole!" Chiyo called out, but the silent rogue had already slipped from their side, appearing next at the feet of the demon. Ducking, weaving and dropping small traps, he moved effortlessly to keep the creature off balance and focused on him, giving his companions the chance to work unhindered and with haste. He called no appeal to reason. The demon was beyond even his probing reach, only the words of pain, anger and confusion marked the slippery spirit's diversions. The mages fanned out, taking separate pillars to strike at with their sturdiest attacks. Dorian's fire split the hardened stacks in dazzling bursts. Solas channeled considerable energy through the Fade, shattering his first pillar with hurdling stones.
The Inquisitor chose her most suitable and governable trait, directing the power of a fierce storm to break down the furthest column by the river. Lightning rallied at her command, crackling through the air with every fluid twist of her staff. As each section of the spell was devastated in turn, the large demon gained more control of itself, fighting harder and with savage speed. Long lines of magical energy grew from its dark palms, becoming fearsome weapons that it struck out with terrifying accuracy, leaving heavy gashes in the rock-strewn soil.
Cole placed several arrows into the horror's arms, drawing on his short bow in a quick series of blurred shots. He extinguished a few of the vengeful beady eyes, partially blinding his ferocious foe. But as a fourth portion of the circle fell under Solas' earnestness the shadowy boy found himself on the cusp of being overtaken, faltering as the ground beneath his feet was set alight by electrifying strokes. Paddling back as he took aim again, there was no room for him to escape as the Pride demon struck once more. His focus remained unbroken even as his leg became briefly ensnared by the recoiling whiplash. His arrow slipped deep into the expansive chest of his attacker before he was flung aside.
Chiyo watched in open-mouthed dread as her ghostly friend was sent reeling backward by the injured demon, losing his footing and favorite hat as he tumbled to escape the next sizzling blow. He looked so small. A mere crumpled heap of a boy struggling at the edge of the circle to right himself with a towering monster lunging his way. Besieged and bellowing, acidic, black blood ran down its torso as it charged.
"Get up! Cole!" Chiyo's panicked thoughts raced as she abandoned her task, shouting out to her endangered comrade that was far from her protective range. She had to reach him. And she had to do it now. Her wish was granted as she leapt forward, the hasty stride burning bright with the magic she demanded to aid her. Time itself grew sluggish, each thrumming pulse the only sound, ringing in her ears longer and slower than the last as the world around her obscured. Chiyo's focus was aimed entirely at her ailing friend. A fraction of a second, an eternity. She couldn't distinguish until time lurched ahead as she woozily stumbled, sliding across the rocky soil, just ahead of the fallen young man. Throwing her own too small form across that of the lanky youth, she managed to cast a partial shield of thick ice just as the demon tried to slam into the both of them. Stunned and staggering by its own impact, it gave the Herald the precious seconds she needed to help Cole. She dragged him away, fighting her own unsettled sickness from the rapid motion of the rescue.
"Did you teach her that?!" Solas shouted, baffled by the Inquisitor's sudden transportation. One moment she had been reaching out, mid-stride and the next she'd vanished within a dizzying blur only to next be seen at the rogue's side on the opposite end of the circle. Less than a blink of the eye—as true a Fade step if he'd ever seen one. But not what he would have expected of the mage whose magic often came out as unpredictable and incomplete when pressed beyond the intermediate.
"Funny, I was about to ask the same of you!" Dorian directed his concentration to the last part of the binding spell. He'd never attempted such a feat as what they'd just witnessed though he easily recognized the magic. She'd used the Fade, skirting along the Veil itself to hasten her travel. He gave another mighty effort, shattering the final pillar with a ferocious and fiery blow from his staff.
The shock of the summoning circle breaking caused the demon to collapse in its last thrust towards the fleeing mortals, disintegrating as mournful howls echoed through the air. The decomposing mass swirled and contracted, leaving behind a much smaller, ghostly figure in its place. The spirit took the form of a common human woman, haunted and exhausted, they could barely hold themselves upright on the ground. But the wrath and agony were gone. Instead it sat with vacant eyes looking out into the listless sky, emptily longing to return home.
Solas set aside his weapon, his heart filling with regret as his friend fought to maintain their spiritual body, flickering in the wind as the energies that had given it substance waned. The sullen elf approached the corrupted entity, kneeling before them so they could be close enough to speak softly and to help it conserve its remaining strength. He did not want to add to the grievous strain that already threatened to permanently extinguish the thoughtful spirit. The sorrow in his eyes was telling even if his other features had returned to a placid calm. He'd come too late after all and nothing else remained in his power to change that.
"I'm sorry." The hushed words fell from his lips like heavy stones borne across the miles, dropped because they could be carried no further.
"I'm not." The spirit of wisdom disagreed in lilting, breathy elven. It spoke simply as their energy fluctuated. "I'm happy. I'm me again."
"I could have done more for you. You didn't deserve this, old friend." Solas knew how little there was to be done. Once corrupted it was impossible to return to the Fade as it once had been. It would have to be released and cleansed, made pure once more. Though a spirit could not die it would never return as the same being it had previously resembled. It may remember its former existence with diffidence or start entirely anew depending on its strength of will.
"You helped me. Now you must endure." Before their dwindling light failed the spirit leaned forward, letting their functionless gaze fall onto the Inquisitor. They observed through their other senses as she tended to the compassionate spirit in his stolen body. They whispered briefly to Solas, thin words of warning almost inaudibly reaching his ear as they gave him a last counsel. They would never speak again as they were now, and there was no telling what the anticipated deliverance would bring.
"Guide me into death." The spirit tenderly requested, ready to leave the painful world they'd been forced to suffer. Its generous offer to help had been woefully abused; the knowledgeable entity had been coerced to kill, and now only the wanderer could wash that tainted blood from its being. If he did not, they would never be able to return to the renewal of the Fade. Instead, they would linger and become a revengeful wraith, stalking the crags and riverbanks of the Dales for the rest of eternity.
"As you say. Dareth shiral." Solas tucked the cautionary words away for later examination. He must complete what they'd come so far to accomplish. Lingering would only warrant more pain for his dear companion. With that in mind, he released Wisdom to the Fade, breaking the spell that had been callously woven around the spirit. He stood again only after all the remains dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind no trace. A soft light floated away, fleeing from tormented body that had been reduced to whispers of transitory smoke. It grew dimmer and vanished altogether as it reached towards the overcast sky.
Solas gathered his set-aside belongings, laying his staff and pack over his sunken shoulders before he curved his desolate regards to the Inquisitor, still safeguarding the wounded spirit that worked willingly alongside them. Her hands were pushed firmly into a seeping gash on Cole's leg, stemming the loss of blood that did not seem to perturb the boy in the slightest.
"I heard what it said. It was right." She said as he drew near, having understood most of the hushed utterances in a language that had been stripped from her scattered people. Some of the words were still lost, but the content in which they were used gave her better clue. Solas' frequent slipping of a new word had already garnered her vocabulary beyond that of what her Keeper had imposed. Her sympathetic gaze reached his distant eyes, but it couldn't permeate his sore heart. Nothing could, he was distressed beyond the offers of friendship and compassion. "You did help it."
"Now I must endure." Solas declined to openly mourn; it wasn't the time or place to relieve his emotions. There were other matters to meet with first.
"Let me know if I can help you." The Inquisitor offered, rotating to see the guilty mages approach the now empty battlefield.
"You already have… All that remains now is them." Solas' anger returned once more as the repulsive cowards dared come near, approaching awash with relief and gratitude. The Inquisition that had employed the mages to help seal the dreadful Breach had come to their rescue, appearing in the hour of their need as a prayer sent to Maker dutifully answered. Malice dripped from each final word and his eyes grew hard as he grasped for his shouldered staff but then quickly changed his mind. He wouldn't need it, not this time. His hands would do well enough. He would never forget how to use them, centuries of violent rebellion had stained his fingers and palms in a way no paint or pigment could ever match. These hands that forged the Veil, which had toppled gods, and paved the road to ruin for the elves—they would do just fine for this.
"Cole, I need you to press here please. Hard." The Inquisitor slowly peeled away the ruined fabric that hung in tatters off Cole's knee and shin. Dorian set her travel pack beside her and turned a blind eye from the brewing storm that was Solas and the Kirkwall mages, focusing instead on the healing of their unique friend.
"Dark, desperate to stave the hate… death will be the only way. He will make them stop, all of them. It won't help. Everything is already lost." Cole did not resist her as she encouraged his hands to hold the fresh wound. His exclusive concentration remained on the brooding apostate who dryly rejected the thanks of the frightened travelers and openly cursed them for their wrong-doings. There would be vengeance in the name of his gentle friend and they would never have the chance to wreak such havoc on the spirits ever again.
"It is not our debt to claim." Chiyo's voice turned low and flat, almost void of feeling as she disregarded the rising fright. She began to bandage his damaged leg. Cole showed no sign of pain, instead he asked why Wisdom would be so concerned about the speed of a single arrow. There were no archers in the sky that Cole could see. But the wise friend had warned Solas nevertheless, even though it had been left blinded and could not have possibly seen an attack from above or elsewhere.
"We didn't know it was just a spirit!" The far-traveled mages cried as they hid behind the mage that had led them through the Dales. Their voices pled for forgiveness as they faced a man who held no mercy in his heart for them and were ignored by the Inquisitor who they believed had been sent to save them. "The book said it could help us!"
The kneeling party remained unmoved as the guilty were dispatched with pitiless swiftness. Silent bodies hit the ground with dull thuds and they remained still, their lives snuffed in a burning flash of Veil fire. Their fate had been sealed the moment they'd bound and corrupted the spirit to do their dirty work.
"I need some time alone." Solas sounded hollow; his emotion's frayed beyond appeasement or comfort. "I will meet you back at Skyhold." Carrying only his meager possessions Solas left the group, heading for the solitude of the distant forest. There was much to think about now and a good deal to mourn. He only looked ahead as the Inquisitor requested he be careful and to stay safe.
"Wisdom knows enduring is pain." murmured Cole, he didn't watch the mage take his leave. Instead he combed the rough grass with his fingers, pulling at the blades that tangled until they uprooted or broke. "He hurts for them, another of many he couldn't save. He carries necessary deaths."
"We know, Cole." Chiyo pulled the young man into a loose hug, the blood on her hands smearing into his coat. It was mostly for her own comfort, but the spirit was willing to fulfill the need. "We know."
The god Fen'Harel was asked by a village to kill a great beast. He came to the beast at dawn, and saw its strength, and knew it would slay him if he fought it. So instead, he shot an arrow up into the sky. The villagers asked Fen'Harel how he would save them, and he said to them, 'When did I say that I would save you?' And he left, and the great beast came into the village that night and killed the warriors, and the women, and the elders. It came to the children and opened its great maw, but then the arrow that Fen'Harel had loosed fell from the sky into the great beast's mouth, and killed it. The children of the village wept for their parents and elders, but still they made an offering to Fen'Harel of thanks, for he had done what the villagers had asked. He had killed the beast, with his cunning, and a slow arrow that the beast never noticed.—Codex