The Spectral Breath
Chapter Eight: The Beginning of the Fold
"Hmm. I got it! I have come to a conclusion."
The rough voice of Dugan disturbed my sleep and it was only when I raised my head that I realised I had slept at the study table with a Fade book rested beneath my cheek.
Solas slowly blinked. The grasp of the Fade released him from slumber and allowed him back into the real world. With a drawn-out yawn, he brushed an arm behind his neck and winced from the seemingly uncomfortable position he had laid in. Jaras hadn't moved. His back remained pressed up against the wall and a low snore escaped his mouth.
"Well? Have you found anything out, Dugan?" I asked, leaned up and stretched my arms out.
Dugan's foot hit the table's edge. He let out a loud curse that quickly spread throughout the room, grunted and then rubbed his ankle. Despite himself, a wide and toothy grin had spread wide across his features. After clearing his throat, Dugan straightened his back and raised his head. "It's not a rock."
Solas groaned and slouched even more in his seat. His fingers straightened and touched into the form of a steeple beneath his lower lip. "Brilliant deduction master dwarf. Care to share any other brilliant ideas you have about its origin, or are you contempt to leave it as that?"
"Hang on a moment, long ears," the dwarf said, squinted into the monocle and stared at the shard more closely. "It could be a type of metal. Hmm maybe even glass."
"You're serious? Metal? Glass?" Solas let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face. "I do believe the world has gone mad, or perhaps I am still in the Fade. I deeply hope it is the Fade."
I sighed. It wasn't the dwarf's fault. Not even Solas could figure out exactly what the shard was even though he gave it his best. Of course, I knew more than I wanted to admit, but truthfully I only wanted a cure; a way to be rid of the thing before worse things happened to me.
Dugan raised his hands. "Now, now, before you go and start sayin' stuff, let me say somethin'. This thing, whatever it is, sings."
Solas frowned. "What do you mean, child of the stone?"
"Now, this may sound mad, and that might be due to the ale and what not, but I heard, well know this sort of thing. Lyrium sings, but it's faint, or so I've heard from this strange guy with a big nose that looked all ghostly, hmm maybe he wasn't a guy at all, but yes, and, to be honest, not many can hear it because... well, I've spent a long time with the stuff and... but this, this! This sings! Well, not sings but talks! I swears it. The stone, thing, is alive."
"Alive?" I whispered.
Solas moved up in his seat and hunched over with his fingers to his lips. "That might not be so unthinkable. It might explain the energy I sensed from it and the magical attachment both Lahris and the shard have."
"I don't understand," I said.
"Well think of it like this, if you were a living being trapped, what would you do? Latch onto the closest thing available. That thing being you. You're its anchor, I suppose- it's grip in the real world."
Despite the almost hilarity and madness of such a claim, it strangely made sense. When Solas cast his spell, a power controlled my actions, but it felt more than just control. I felt fear. I needed to protect it. But did that mean that something was trapped inside the shard and that I was connected to it somehow? The very idea of such a thing was nerving and, honestly, I didn't want to know.
The door opened with a clang and revealed the hastening strides of Cassandra. A stern expression pierced through her dark hair. Her scowl leered across us all but quirked when she saw me. "There you are. I have been looking for you."
"Me? Why?" I asked.
"There is something we must discuss-" Her words faltered at the strange yet intense stare of the dwarf.
Dugan, having noticed that he had gained her attention, let out a low rumble, similar to clearing ones throat, pulled the belt that kept his chainmail together and strode over to the Seeker with a strange twinkle in his eye. "Why, hello there human. Never seen you before. Believe me, I'd notice." Dugan winked.
Cassandra's face fell into one of disgust. "Ugh. Is there a reason for him to be here?"
"He's the specialist the Inquisitor wanted," said Solas.
"And has he found anything useful?"
The dwarf smirked. "Oh, I've found several things I assure you, and maybe some others if you're willing to help, if you catch my drift. I say, if the women in Orzammar were half as tall and gor-geous as you, I doubt I'd have ever left."
Cassandra blinked. I tried to hold back a smile. The look on her face, eyes wide and mouth hung like a noose was enough to lift anyone's spirits. As if trying to forget what just happened, the Seeker turned her back to the dwarf and motioned to me. "You, elf. You're to come with me. Immediately."
I frowned. "Is something wrong?"
"I'll explain on the way. Solas, you may want to come as well. This may interest you."
The Seeker's form disappeared. I looked back at Jaras. He was still asleep. The appearance of the Seeker hadn't even disturbed him.
"Jaras?" I poked his arm.
He groaned and cursed in between snores.
I pushed his shoulder, this time harder, and with a snort, he lifted his head. "What?"
"Come on. Get up, and take the shard with you."
An arm swatted me away but, after a brief silence, Jaras sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
Cassandra waited for us outside. As the door was shut behind us, the quite mumble of "Alright then, I'll just be here," echoed through the crack. It was strange how Cassandra hadn't asked for Dugan and wanted me instead. I was a guest in their Inquisition of course, or perhaps prisoner was a better term for it, but I was not one of importance and not a person they should have been too concerned with. That was why the specialist was there, or at least I thought it was.
Solas moved closer. "What's this about Seeker?" he asked. We passed through the Keep rather quickly and down the front steps to the marketplace.
Cassandra halted by the stall closest to the tavern and pointed to the stable in the distance. "Gather your supplies and meet me there. Bring enough for at least a day's ride and back. We will be gone long."
I held my hand out to prevent her moving. "Wait a moment. What's going on?"
"I will tell you once you gather your things. Now go, we're missing daylight," she said before she shoved my shoulder back and headed to the stables.
Surprised, I looked back at Solas and Jaras who both held expressions that were either blank or curious.
"Do you have any idea what's happening?" I asked the apostate mage.
Solas merely shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it might be wise to pack. Whatever the Seeker wants, it's bound to be of some importance."
"I don't like this," said Jaras.
Solas nodded. "I don't think we have much choice, friend."
It was not long before I appeared in my room in the tavern. The room wasn't as big as the other rooms I had seen, but it was free and had what an elvhen mage needed to live off, such as a bed, desk and chest close to the back wall and away from the boarded window. Only a few rays of light could pierce through during the day and even less light during the night but it was enough to see.
It was a mystery what the Seeker had planned, but from the overall look of it and from what was indicated, it wasn't good. Fingers hastily swept through the rusted chest and placed only the necessities into my satchel, such as food wrapped in leather bindings, several wine skins full of water, a tome or two that I had 'accidentally' taken from the study room and a dagger Jaras' clan had once gave me, engraved on the hilt's side with my name displayed in elvhen and a carved image of a halla and tree. The Dalish believed so heavily in their animals and creators. Sometimes it was endearing, other times it was disappointing. For all the knowledge they had collected over the centuries, so much was lost to them. Sometimes I wondered if it was for the best. I doubted if they knew the truth about their people, about our people, that they would still feel the same.
An hour had passed and daylight had set over the distant mountains of the horizon. Clouds had begun to turn into darker shades of grey, pink and orange and the air was thin and cold.
The stable was poor compared to other human cities - crafted with timbers of dark wood and oak and held together with rusty nails with fine strands of straw and hay in the thick cracks, especially in the thick, rotten beams that seeped dust with every footstep from above. A torch was the only light in the mostly enclosed area, yet left a dim and dusky setting for the evening. In one of the smaller stables was my horse, Assan, named after the arrow-shaped crest that ran down the length of his nose, only to pause at the tip of his muzzle. From there, it continued in a curve down his throat, only to end in a point on his chest.
As I fastened the leather saddle and tugged Assan out by the reign, I caught a glimpse of the horses already out of the stable, clasped in sheets of steel plating tied to the chest, head and back. The plating was so tight that any movement on the horse's part sent a shatter through the air. Those horses were bred for one purpose and one purpose only: battle.
Solas looked to the inner of the stable and, with a light pat on his mount's mane, walked over. His nimble fingers caught the last strap of the saddle and helped to buckle it so that Assan was ready to ride. "Are you ready to depart?"
"Ven [to go]? Yes, I am," I said and guided Assan out to the center of the marketplace. "Still have no idea what will happen?"
"None, but knowing the Seeker, it will be something you can help with, providing that you want to, that is."
"That depends on what she wants me to do," I said and motioned for Assan to halt. I pulled at the saddle one more time before throwing a leg over the back. It felt good to be able to ride again without having to stay within Skyhold. The fortress, though safe and somewhat comforting was also a cage and, until then, I had not been permitted to leave. I could sense that Assan could not wait to leave either as his hooves had already begun to scratch the stone in excitement.
It did not take long for Jaras to gain control of his horse, though his horse was known for its unpredictable temperament. He had gained her from a village not too far from Skyhold but was never told of her unusual behaviour until one day she spotted a hare in the neighbouring field and began to buck and thrash around until Jaras was thrown off and had to run after her. I smiled at the memory.
Cassandra passed Asssan on her way to the front gate. Her horse trotted close behind. "I see you are ready to go."
"Where are we going?" I asked and stirred Assan in that direction.
"The Hinterlands."
"Is that far?"
"Not as far as other places, but quite. It's enough to require horses." With a grunt, Cassandra hoisted herself onto her mount and guided the horse around in a complete circle before checking the horse for the move. "Are you sure you have everything you will need? There will be no turning back."
"Yes," I said. "Let's go."
...
Days felt like years on horseback and yet I relished the freedom the clean air and open land brought. The first stretches of pale snow had receded long ago and the far horizons of hills and grassland were riled with the flora and fauna of the Hinterlands. The sight of the wildlife, of nature, with no barriers only made the freedom more sweet and real. There were many temptations, many thoughts on just galloping away from the group and allowing the wind to take me in any direction, to have the choice to escape the troubles of the world. Yet those fleeting thoughts quickly vanished to the back of my mind and the reality of where I was and what responsibilities I had slowly became clear as the first rays of dawn approached.
The path we travelled was lined with red dirt splotched with patches of brown grass and drying mud. Beyond the dirt were the trodden and sagging stalks of the cornfields rarely seen to be maintained by a farmer or his wife. The cornfields bordered either side of the path and were spread far and wide.
"You seem to be relishing the time you have away from Skyhold," the elvhen apostate claimed rather boldly from my side. He reared his horse so that our mounts were at equal stride and only a width a part.
"Skyhold has its benefits, but I miss this." I gestured to the land with an outstretched hand. "I feel more comfortable out here than in a crowded fortress."
Despite the distractions of the environment, it was Solas' low chuckle that kept my attention. It wasn't something that happened often: the elvhen mage confident and not recluse. "I can tell."
"You said you travelled quite a lot, Solas."
"Did I?"
"Yes, you did. You said you had to travel in order to see new places in the Fade."
"Oh, yes. And what about this interests you so?"
"Well aren't you pleased to be out here away from Skyhold?"
Solas took a moment to look around, first at the path and the rocky walls that followed it and then to the far away mountains, before he made his decision. "It is nice to have a change of scenery as well as other things."
I smiled. One could take the elvhen away from nature, but one could not take nature away from the elvhen, or so the Dalish once claimed. That apostate may have liked to believe that all he cared for was the Fade and his books, but I was sure that there was more to him than met the eye.
"Dirth ma, tell me."
"Tell you what?" he asked.
I leaned further forward and gently patted Assan's mane. "About one of your adventures. There must be many."
Solas looked at me sceptically. "You really care to know, or is it sarcasm? It's hard to tell these days."
"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't curious. Dirth ma."
"Alright," he said. "Care to be more specific? I have had dreams of ancient ruins if that is of any interest. I have had experiences with spirits that are rarely known to those who do not dwell in the Fade often, like yourself, or maybe you'd care to hear of some of the memories themselves? They too can be quite fascinating."
I bit my lower lip in thought. "Ruins. I'd like to hear a story of elvhen ruins."
"Ruins? There are not many who would care to hear about those, or at least from the few people I speak to."
"Let me guess. Spirits are more interesting?"
"Indeed to most. Spirits are more unknown to them yet are also the most feared. Sating ones curiosity usually starts from there because it is a topic that is so widely common these days."
"That might be 'cause of the huge hole in the sky," muttered Jaras.
"Hush, Jaras," I said. "Elvhen ruins. I want to know about that."
Solas smiled and allowed his gaze to drift to the sky. "As you wish. In my travels, I came across an old ruin buried deep into the bowls of a mountain, so dark that not even the light of day could pierce through. As I delved further down, I found that the ruin itself was in fact a tower, left unguarded before the times of ancient Arlathan. The mountain over time had consumed most of the stone, leaving caved-in hallways and scarred statues with pieces missing, but surprisingly there were tunnels left untouched and free to wander. The tunnels led up to a large hall, patterned with a treasure-trove of lost knowledge and works of art Thedas has yet to rival. Sadly, the tomes of such knowledge had succumbed to dust and there was no way of restoring them, but through the Fade, it made little difference as I was able to watch instead of read. If one listened closely, you could still catch the whispers of thousand year old arguments left undecided, even if the owners of such whispers had perished long ago."
Unconsciously, I leaned further forward in my saddle and allowed Assan to take his turn in guiding the way. My gaze hadn't left Solas. "What happened? What did you find?"
His smile grew. "You would have to have been there to truly understand. Besides, some mysteries are better left secret, at least until their next telling."
I lowered my gaze. "Not fair."
"Indeed, but where is the excitement if everything is known?"
At Assan's stirring, I repositioned myself on the saddle and re-gripped his reigns. "That tale's... actually quite amazing, Solas."
The apostate blinked. His face went slack with surprise. "You think so? I must admit, I am surprised you think that."
"Don't be. You make an excellent story teller."
"Thank you. Perhaps I should share my experiences more often, if you still care to listen."
"You should. Real or not, your perspective on things like this is..."
"Interesting?"
"I was going to say unique, but yes, that too."
Jaras rolled his eyes. Solas frowned at the reaction. I on the other hand smirked and went back to concentrating on Assan and the path ahead.
"How much father are we from our destination, Seeker?" Solas asked.
Cassandra looked up from the map crumpled in her lap and then, with a confused scowl, turned to look in front at the sign post planted firmly in between two boulders and a patch of tall grass. The path between it had two possible ways to journey through and both were clear from trouble and wildlife. "We are not far now."
"What are we supposed to be doing anyway?" I asked. "Surely we're not out here for sight-seeing."
Cassandra gave a shallow nod. "One of our envoys was attacked during its journey to Skyhold. We are going to see what happened and, if we can, who's at fault."
Solas raised an eyebrow. "Attacked? How?"
"We are unsure. There were no wounded but many casualties. We only know about it because of its delay and from the reports the Inquisitor's soldiers have sent. We suspected rebel mages were at fault, but what benefit would that be to them now that they are allied with us?"
To my surprise, Solas' tone darkened and became as cold as a winter's blade. "Allied or imprisoned? If my memory serves me correctly Seeker, weren't the mages forced to join us?"
Cassandra's face became a set of hard lines and her glare struck Solas who equally glared back with no hesitance. "Yes, they were but it is for their own good, Solas."
"You conscripted mages?" I asked.
Solas took a deep breath, possibly to control his annoyance. "Yes, they did."
My fingers tightened around Assan's reign. "I'm a mage."
"Yes," Cassandra affirmed rather quickly. "We know."
"Then why am I not locked up?"
"Because for the moment you are useful to us and have not done anything to cause our aggression, yet. We are not templars and during this war we only have authority over the rebel mages under former Enchanter Fiona's service, not on their own. Fortunately for you none of our men sustained major injuries during your arrival to Skyhold. It was agreed upon that you did not intend for it to happen, so we are willing to let it go, for now. The guards still do not trust you, as don't the people, but at the moment, that is not our concern. It may interest you to know that a Dalish clan had vouched for you and their generosity was most persuasive."
I blinked. "A Dalish clan?"
"Yes, I believe they call themselves the Sahlin."
"In this moment," explained Solas.
I nodded. "Yes, that's what the name means, but what did they say?"
Cassandra reached down, took hold of a note from her satchel and handed it to me. "That they sent you to us in their hour of need and that any co-operation on our part would be greatly appreciated."
"I didn't know your people even cared for the Dalish." My fingers curled around the note protectively. Though slightly hesitant, I allowed my gaze to roam the curved writing. Despite not being familiar with human writing, the Keeper didn't do too badly.
"Some do. We do. Any help in our war is greatly appreciated no matter who it is from. Your clan's continued resources also help the Inquisition," said the Seeker.
I sighed and folded the paper in half before handing it back to her. "They're not my clan. They're Jaras', but they are good friends."
"They must think highly of you to contact a human organisation," said Solas.
"More than you know," I whispered and tapped my heels lightly against Assan's side to go faster.
"What did they offer you?" Jaras asked curiously. "Must have been something good if the Keeper bothered to use the clan's treasury which, let me tell you lads and lasses now, isn't often. I should know. I've tried to persuade the lad so many times that I've lost count."
"Herbs mostly, but sometimes potions and even weapons, though they are not as formidable as ours. Still, they can be bartered with in exchange for coin. Most Dalish we have come across are not as forthcoming as your own and do not have many supplies to simply give away," said Cassandra.
Unexpectedly, Jaras smiled. "Well there's not a lot you know about us, shemlen. We elves have that much gold hidden away in our aravels, you wouldn't even be able to imagine it."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "And how do you obtain such gold, elf?"
"By merely taking possessions that shemlen no longer want."
"Jaras!" I warned.
He merely shrugged."What? It's not stealing if the shemlen leave it out on a table or shelf or... in a chest..."
"For your own discretion, I will pretend I did not hear that," Cassandra muttered and then guided her horse further away from us.
I merely shook my head.
Jaras frowned in confusion. "What? It isn't like you haven't stolen in your lifetime."
"But I don't say it in front of the human, do I? Especially the human that can put me back in the prison cells if she wants," I whispered harshly.
Jaras' face went blank. "Oops."
After another hour or so the corn fields had disappeared; replaced by towering tree trunks, thick with red and brown leaves and long branches. Through the canopy, specks of light patterned the shaded overgrowth and the backs of our clothes. I could feel Assan occasionally snag his hind legs on an upturned root or half-buried stone, mainly due to the lack of riding he had through the woodlands in the last month and on ground that was not shrouded in snow.
The path led further through the forest and up over a hill. It was surprising that there were no bandit camps, nor any threats from the local wildlife. Usually paths were notorious for such situations and that was why Jaras and I mainly kept away from them and instead journeyed through the wilds itself. It was as if we had passed unnoticed through the Hinterlands and it was almost too quiet for comfort. Not even the birds sang and that was strange enough.
"Why is it so quiet around here?" I asked.
Cassandra was the first to reply. "Our men have laid claim to this part of the Hinterlands for quite some time. The bandits have all been either dealt with or scared off, so it's no surprise that we have run into no trouble."
"Good to know."
The Seeker's horse halted on the steady inline. She pointed outwards to the less-shaded area of the undergrowth where trees had yet to take root. "There. You can see the patrol from here. The scouts shouldn't be too far ahead. They've kept the incident safe for us to investigate."
I bit my lip. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Come on, Da'mi," said Jaras. "The quicker this is done, the quicker I can eat."
"You've ran out of food again, haven't you?"
"What can I say? Long travels make me hungry."
"You haven't even done anything-" I let out a heavy sigh and unhooked my leg from the saddle's stirrup. "Never mind."
With Assan's reign in hand, my companions and I ventured further through the woodland. The midday's wind teased at my hood until it was forced back. As the light of the clearing grew and the shadows dissipated into the furthest reaches, I caught the slight glance of dark patches. My feet stopped. A hand flew to my mouth. Assan stirred from behind.
In the centre of the clearing, surrounded by ash and red-painted puddles that reflected the sun's light were grim and motionless figures that lay stretched up upon burnt grass and dirt with vacant, sightless eyes that stared above and into the void.
"What... is that?" Jaras' voice was the first to break the silence, but was barely above a whisper.
"I'm afraid that these may be the men we were supposed to find," Solas said grimly.
Cassandra was the first into the clearing, followed by Solas, Jaras and then, after a brief silence, me. The men seemed to have been dead for maybe a couple of days, but the burnt flesh and scorched ground more than told of what happened.
The Seeker watched the bodies carefully. Each face she saw, each set of emotionless eyes and blood-stained mouths seemed to be placed to memory so she would not forget. Her stern expression seemed to soften after each body was passed and the hold on her fists only tightened. "By the Maker, these poor men," she whispered. "They did not deserve such a fate."
Solas let his mount's reigns go and crouched over the ground, close to one of the fallen men. "They've been moved. They didn't die in this arrangement, but why? What purpose did moving them serve?"
"I think I know why, lad," said Jaras and pointed to the patch of burnt grass in-between the circle of bodies. Fine trails of smoke lifted into the air, but the black patches on the dirt seemed to have been burnt into it on purpose.
"What is that?" asked the Seeker.
Solas touched the dirt with his fingers before he took a step back. "A message."
Cassandra frowned. "A message? But I cannot read it."
"It's elvish," I whispered. "It's... elvish."
"Elvish? And what does it say exactly?"
My gaze gently travelled across the letters. The words imbedded themselves into my mind and seemed to come to life. As the meaning sunk in, I was too terrified to raise my head.
'Shemlen, ar'din nuvenin na'din. Ar nuvenin ma asha, ma len, na falon, na harellan. Na falon vhen ar. Halani ar. Sahlin emma ma harellan. Lahris, tu na vir. Garas, ma len. Din, na'din tu na falon'lin emma mi.
Na shiral sahlin. Ma halam. Emma shem'nan.'
"Lahris?"
That wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.
"What does it say?" the Seeker asked again.
Solas looked like he was going to translate, but before he did I held my hand out and shook my head. "N-no, I will say it. It says, 'Human, I do not want to kill you. I want my woman, my child, your friend, your trickster. Your friend belongs to me. Help me. In this moment, I am in need of my trickster. Lahris, make your path. Come, my child. Don't, you will see your friend's blood on my blade. Your journey ends now. You are finished. My revenge is swift.'
That message could only belong to one person, a person that none other knew but me. He wasn't supposed to find me. I warned the Inquisition what would happen if they held me and because of that message it was too late.
"But who could it belong to?" asked Solas.
I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath. "Varhel. It is Varhel... my master."
