MALEDICTUS
7.There were many creatures that populated Thedas that were universally agreed upon one should never take on unprepared: dragons, of course, darkspawn of a surety, and even bears, to name a few. There were many situations in which one could find themselves quite dead if they did not assemble the proper team or even plan for the contingency. Even so, there were still some creatures that were powerful enough to give even the most seasons adventurers pause.
A Revenant, for all intents and purposes, should not have been one of them, depending on the nature of the creature. They were essentially a greater undead possessed by a demon. Hadiza knew, without having to fight it, that this particular demon was old…and formidable.
Revenants did not speak, not usually, as the tongue in the undead corpse's mouth had long since shriveled to uselessness, and the vocal cords were all but rotted away. There was no way it should have been able to speak, but the demon did laugh. Hadiza didn't know if others could hear it, but she could tell it was laughing at them.
For a moment, no one moved, and the Revenant's head turned this way and that, sizing up its opponents. Samson's grip on his blade adjusted accordingly. He met Aja's gaze across the room. She gave a subtle nod, dropping her stance and bringing up her shield. Even Cole was silent, moving like a ghost aft of the impossibly tall creature.
It was looking at Hadiza. She could see that the lips were rotted away, revealing only the skeleton's teeth in a death's head grin. It was unnerving to see.
"Fuck." She eked out, her voice just below a whisper. She barely registered the sound of a chain being unspooled, as the Revenant's grappling claw launched toward her. There was a sound like crumbling stone as Hadiza brought up her rock armor and dove aside, flinching inwardly as the grappling claw snapped at the empty air where she once stood.
The smell of charged ozone commingled with the loam and stench of a rotting corpse as the Revenant stumbled from a bolt of lightning. Dorian watched it with an intensely focused gaze, settling into his spellcasting for battle. The Revenant did not even slow in its attacks. Samson and Aja both unleashed hell, engaging it from two sides, forcing its concentration on the two of them. They ducked in, shields up, opening just enough to swing, probing for weaknesses in its armor. Samson knew that he could weaken the Revenant with his abilities, but he risked injuring and incapacitating both Dorian and Hadiza in the process.
The Revenant whirled, its hulking mass covering more ground as it closed the distance between itself and Samson. He brought up his sun-shield, channeling his strength into it, and momentarily stunning the creature as the chamber flooded with a blinding flare of light. Dorian struck again, this time with a cage of lightning. Cole's daggers found the kink in its armor and held it fast. Aja followed through, coming behind the paralyzed Revenant with her grappling chain, pulling it back.
And Hadiza sprinted forward, delivering a well-placed stone fist to the creature, which let out a dry and eerie growl of frustration as it struggled to break free. Hadiza's staff, tipped with a well-honed blade, came up in a smooth arc, the blade and the strike itself should have been enough to kill a man.
The Revenant blocked it with one vambraced arm, and in one motion, broke free of all of them. It was clear to all of them in that moment that they were dealing with a creature far beyond their usual fair. Its head turned this way and that, and reached for Hadiza, catching her by the arm to lift her, then toss her away. The rock armor saved her from the bulk of the damage as she crashed through hanging vines, stopped only by a pillar, which dented on impact.
Hadiza was very still when she landed; too still.
Samson didn't let the anger and panic that flared in his blood control him; he was no good to her fighting blind, none of them were. If they couldn't bring this fucking bastard down, then they'd have to beat a hasty retreat. He hated running from a fight, but this wasn't his first bout with a Fade-borne nasty without the aid of his red lyrium armor. He could take this thing, or at the very least, slow it enough for them to make an escape.
Aja was making no headway on it, and Dorian was consuming more lyrium to bolster his spells. Samson knew without having to use his abilities, that the Revenant was too powerful for all of them. It bore down on Aja first, and her Reaver rage saved her for most of the battle, and her speed allowed her to dodge the heavy blows from its sword, but her shield bash barely made it stumble.
Dorian was kneeling over Hadiza, his hands glowing a soft green. She twitched once, a gasp of air forced into defeated lungs, and then she was up, downing a lyrium potion. Samson was aware, even in the midst of keeping the Revenant distracted, of the bright, glowing blue drops of it that stained her lips.
"You have to use the Anchor, Hadiza!" Dorian told her, "There's no other way to slow it down!"
Hadiza hesitated, but then broke into a sprint. The Revenant turned in time to see her open her marked hand, and the room was flooded with bright green light. The Fade's raw magic spilled into the room, above their heads, and both Samson and Aja stepped out of the ring as the energy began to build up. The Revenant slowed, trying to charge, but the Fade held it in check, draining its defenses bit by bit.
"Hadiza…" Dorian's eyes grew wide with alarm as he saw the encroaching red chasing the pipe of one vein in Hadiza's arm; the red vein that had been so small just a week ago and had not grown since; the red vein that was now turning the green glow of the anchor into the same angry shade.
"Hadiza, stop!" Dorian cried, and he didn't know why, but he knew something was wrong. Hadiza didn't stop, her face a rictus of determination as she drained the Revenant until it collapsed on its knees. The red spread quickly, and suddenly the energy of the Fade lashed back out…toward her.
Her scream was cut off by the blast, which jarred her arm up to the shoulder and sent her stumbling back. Aja came up behind the weakened Revenant, her blade whistling once through the air as she cleaved its head from its shoulders. Samson was already backing his shield and sheathing his sword. Dorian held Hadiza steady, and Samson let out a guttural swear at the sight of her left arm. There was a single vein of red spreading from the Anchor up to her elbow. It's glow was a pulsating, morbid thing, and Samson knew what it was, knew without having to say it, and the dread that gripped him was cold and hot all at once. It sent him back to a place of hyperawareness, making his skin tingle as if ants marched along it. He took in a deep breath, never tearing his eyes from that glowing red vein.
"We've gotta get outta here," Aja said as she retrieved the final piece, "back to Skyhold. Fast."
"Agreed," Dorian said, "our Lady Inquisitor is not doing so well."
Hadiza tried to lift her hanging head, and found the effort too difficult. When she spoke, no words came, just a rasp of air as she struggled for breath. Her rock armor had saved her from breaking most of her limbs, but the Anchor's unusual backlash had sapped her of most of her strength.
"He's still angry." Cole whispered, fearful almost. Samson couldn't make heads or tails of what the boy was about, and elected to ignore him. This wasn't the time for riddles and half-baked observations.
"Strip the Revenant," Hadiza managed to breathe out, "…its armor could be useful…" She lifted her gaze just enough to see it lying still and motionless on the temple's ruined floor. Aja sighed and began the gruesome task of stripping the creature of its armor and weapons, leaving only the shriveled husk of an ancient corpse which immediately crumbled to dust as soon as her fingers touched it.
By the time they made their way out of the temple, night had long since fallen, but the ruins of the Inquisition camp were blessedly silent, their mounts unmolested, and the forest eerily quiet and serene. They opted to take any remaining supplies and make their way toward the main road, and Samson took on the task of lashing Hadiza to the saddle of his own mount, riding behind her.
Nyx, free of his rider, was tasked with carrying the extra supplies and led behind them on a lead. They'd have to stop in Halamshiral again before going back to Skyhold, he knew, because despite her efforts, Hadiza was more injured than she let on, and the red vein in her arm hadn't stopped glowing, as if something had illuminated the blood within.
"Hang in there, princess," he murmured into her hair as she leaned back against his armored chest, "we'll figure this shit out soon." Hadiza said nothing, but she took silent comfort in his words as they pressed on. The journey back was slow, but it was rather uneventful since facing off against the Revenant. In a way, Samson was both relieved and angry that Hadiza had used the Anchor; relieved because a problem they hadn't known about had made itself known, and angry because there was a problem.
His agitation did not go unnoticed by Dorian or Aja when they finally reached Halamshiral, and while Hadiza slept in their rented room, watched over by Cole, Samson opted to drown his troubles in strong ale. Aja and Dorian sat across from him, looking just as pensive.
"Be honest, Samson," Aja began without preamble, "is it what we think it is?" Dorian was sipping on something that came out of a bottle probably older than Tevinter, and Aja was drinking something frothy and bitter. Samson took another hard pull and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"I think it is," he answered bluntly, "looks just like how the corruption took some of the templars. It's slow for some, real quick for others. Never could figure out the why of it, though." Dorian leaned forward, his expression grave.
"If this is in fact what we think it is, then we need to get to the young Arcanist immediately. We have no idea how this will affect a mage." Dorian paused, eyes narrowing slightly, "That reminds me: how is it you have managed to resist corruption all this time?" Samson gave Dorian his broken-toothed grin.
"Special, I guess," he said through his grin, "but in all honesty, even Dagna hasn't been able to figure that out. She guesses it's got something to do with the fact that I was already ingesting so much lyrium that the red wasn't much different than the blue…just more powerful." Aja made a face.
"That's well and good but my sister might very well be poisoned by that shit," she growled, "and we have no idea how it will react to the mark on her hand. You saw what happened back there." They fell silent, each remembering. Hadiza rarely used the Anchor against foes, not unless they were too powerful for their squad to handle alone. The Revenant had successfully proven it needed to be powered down, but the Anchor. Samson hid his grimace in his mug of ale, remembering the green light of the Fade turning an angry red, making him wonder.
None of this shit made any sense.
"Who the fuck else can we ask if not Dagna?" He wondered aloud, and neither Dorian nor Aja could provide an answer. Aja finished her drink and stood.
"We'll get no answers here," she said, "we need to get some rest if we plan to ride hard the remainder of the journey."
"When will someone tame the dragons so we can just fly to our destination?" Dorian wondered wistfully. Aja clapped a hand on the mage's shoulder and chuckled.
"We've slain how many dragons since you joined? You're welcome to hunt for some eggs or somethin' next time we go dragon slaying." Aja offered. Dorian rolled his eyes.
"I'll pass. Let me know when you all do something sensible…like not try and get yourselves killed." He drained the remainder of his wine and stood. Samson knew he needed to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since they left the Cradle of Sulevin. He'd been lying awake most nights, staring at the glowing vein on Hadiza's arm, trying to swear that it wasn't spreading, trying to reassure himself that what was happening was something else and not born of his own mistakes.
He knew it had something to do with him. Not directly, but it was his fault in some way. For the first time, Samson knew the old despair that he'd managed to avoid in the last year. Here was someone that he chose—someone he loved—and now she too would be corrupted by his mistakes. He took in a deep breath, and felt the wash of something unclean on his soul. Hadiza had done everything she could to assure he had an opportunity to turn his life around, and bit by struggling bit, he had. And how had he repaid her?
With corruption.
Was there anything in this blighted world he could touch without it turning to shit or dying for his sake?
He struggled to reel in the betraying thoughts, struggled to regain his sense of self, but the fear of the unknown was a strong current and he was floundering. He had to be strong, if not for himself, then for her sake. This could be reversed, this could be fixed; he just had to find a way. How many times had they saved each other's asses since he became her champion? How many times had she pulled his ass out of harm's way with no regard for her own life? How many times had he shielded her from a blow that would have ended her?
When during that time was she exposed to the red…if this was the red at all?
Hadiza rolled and adjusted in her sleep, yawning as she roused partially to look at him.
"Mm…why aren't you resting?" She mumbled, her eyes already heavy-lidded and nearly closed. Samson managed a smile.
"Got a lot on my mind, princess," he told her, "go back to sleep." Hadiza was already asleep before he finished his sentence and for a moment, he nearly forgot about the disparaging thoughts that plagued him. Eventually, exhaustion won out and he settled down to sleep, holding her close.
The next morning found them downstairs, squaring up the night's debts and preparing to leave for Skyhold. Hadiza had already sent in reports and messages regarding the mission in the Cradle of Sulevin, but she left out the red vein in her arm, which after Dorian's careful inspection, had not seemed to grow any further since its rapid spread in the Cradle. Satisfied that her health would hold long enough for them to find answers, the squad mounted up and made for Skyhold. The journey itself felt shorter, and by the time they climbed the mountains and spotted the keep, messengers had already passed the word of the Inquisitor's return. They were received with warmth and smiles, and even Samson did not feel the pins-and-needles prickle of judgment in his wake as they made their way into the grounds. Stablehands and servants aided in disassembling their supplies, and packing the mounts away to be washed down, brushed, and stabled. Road-weary and sore, they climbed the steps into the keep itself. Josephine, Ariadne, and Cullen were already there to receive them.
"Inquisitor," Josephine greeted with a gracious imperiousness, "it is wonderful to have you back among us. When you have settled, shall we go over the reports in the war room?" Hadiza blinked in the harsh light of the main hall, and looked around.
"Yes," she said absently, "the war room." Samson did not miss the slight shift in Ariadne's expression, the slight narrow of her eyes, the subtle downturn of her mouth, and a barely noticeable crease in her brow.
So she saw it too, then.
"I need a day's rest, Josephine," Hadiza said slowly, "and then we can review the reports from my exploits. Does this sit well with you all?"
"I'd much rather go over them immediately," Ariadne replied, "as the loss of my entire reconnaissance team is dire news indeed. But I will respect your wish, Inquisitor. The journey was not an easy one, of that I have no doubt." Cullen glanced between Ariadne and Hadiza. From the way the two of them addressed one another, it would be impossible to believe they were siblings.
"I too am troubled by this report, Inquisitor," Cullen agreed, "but you have the right of it. A day's rest, and then we shall resume business on the morrow."
"Very well, Inquisitor," was all Josephine had to add. Hadiza nodded at each of her advisers in turn, and shuffled off toward her chambers, a slight, fatigued slump in her shoulders. Before he could follow, Cullen caught Samson at the elbow.
"Be truthful," Cullen said in a low voice once Hadiza had vanished into the side door, "what happened out there? Hadiza looks…unwell." Samson hesitated. If Hadiza hadn't shared the news, then there was likely a reason for it. On the other hand, if this corruption was spreading to her mind and impairing her judgment, it was just as easy to assume that there was no reason for the omission and blame it on pure negligence instead.
"She got sick while we were down there," Samson replied after a beat, "I had Dorian take a look at her and he said she'd be alright. Just let her rest."
He didn't want to lie to Cullen, but it wasn't his place to figure out what was best for Hadiza. They still weren't sure what the red vein in her arm signified. To inflame Cullen's panic and inherent fear would lead the man to a veritable witch hunt for apostates, abominations, and blood mages all over again. Samson didn't want Hadiza's deep fear of Cullen's prejudices to cloud her judgment and aggravate her emotions. She did a fantastic job of keeping her powers in check, but this unknown variable could see that changed.
Cullen's expression told Samson that the man clearly wasn't having it, but he would let the matter rest for now. It was still a rift of uncertainty between the two former templars. Cullen had given up the Order but not the Chantry—not his devotion, and certainly not his prejudices and fears. Samson understood that, better than most, as he could see the stark difference between the reticent and wild-eyed man that had stepped off the boat in Kirkwall, and the Lion of Honnleath that stood before him, now. A woman was not the cause for contention between them; it never had been, although Hadiza did have her own part to play. Cullen was amongst many things, a prideful man, and it had not reflected well on him when his relationship with Hadiza had ended, only to have her begin one with Samson later on. His pride and ego were wounded, but over the year he seemed to have gotten over it. Samson, for his part, had learned to tolerate Cullen's insufferable self-righteousness, especially once it had been established that the two men who loved the same woman only wanted the same thing.
Still, Samson could not help but feel a little smug that he had subverted the old stories and gotten the girl in the end.
"Let her rest, Rutherford," Samson warned, and the general in him came out, a wolf with a wrinkled muzzle and lips pulled back, revealing the fangs, "and we'll figure out the rest. A lot of shit went down in that place, but we finished the mission. Just see to it that those men and women we lost have their next of kin notified and are given a proper memorial." Without waiting for the Commander's reply, Samson turned and followed Hadiza's trail back to her chambers.
