Leliana knelt outside the mouth of the cave, tracing her fingertips through the dirt around a clear boot print in the ground. It was small, but also wider than usual with a flat toe. A dwarf's footprint, but it was at least a few days old.
She narrowed her eyes and stood, staring down into the mine tunnel. The smell of smoke and sulfur was heavy in the air, drowning out the sweet and pleasant scent of the forest that surrounded the mine. There were signs that the mine had indeed been inhabited, and recently too. But if Hawke was truly investigating the disappearance of local dwarven miners, she had gotten here far too late; there was no sign anyone had disturbed this area in days.
Leliana drew her hood over her eyes, debating whether to follow the small group down into the mines. It was a perfect ambush point; dark, twisting tunnels, dead ends, sudden pitfalls… everything needed to ensnare an unsuspecting mage.
She frowned. And with the lyrium in the mine, Hawke and her associates would be forced to rely on elemental magic only. Still dangerous, but much more manageable than spirit magic.
But the more her plan fell into place, the more the letter sent from Dorothea drifted back into her memory: I cannot stress enough that if the accused are doing no harm, they are to be left to their own devices.
Leliana still couldn't tell if Hawke was dangerous or not. She was an apostate, as were her associates; she had irrefutable proof of that already. But was she hurting innocents? Was she a blood mage? Was she a potential threat to the Chantry? That was harder to answer.
Her bow was slung over her shoulder, strung and ready to use in a moment's notice. But while her ambush plan was near-perfect, she didn't want to fight. Not yet. If possible, she should try to approach Hawke peacefully, without alerting the apostate to her true purpose here, and attempt to initiate contact. But how best to do that?
She could find Hawke in the mines and offer her assistance in finding the dwarves. It would not be so surprising; Leliana was the infamous Left Hand of the Divine, it was true, but she was also still a lay sister of the chantry, sent to perform tasks ordinary priests or priestesses could not. And while there was no guarantee the mage would accept, but it would give Leliana insight into Hawke's motivations.
Regardless of what I decide, she thought, my path takes me into that mine. There is no alternative.
So she sighed, then hoisted her bow into her hand and stepped down into darkness.
Varric pivoted, sighting in on each dwarf that was surrounding them. Hawke pointed the bladed end of her staff out, tracking one of the miners hefting a heavy pickaxe. She may not be able to use spirit magic with this much lyrium surrounding her, but her staff was more than a simple walking stick. Merrill watched the rear of their group, eyes darting from one stocky dwarf to another. And Anders remained in the center of them all, ready to protect or heal anyone who needed it.
"What was the one thing I asked you?" Varric snapped, turning to track a snarling dwarven miner. "The one thing? Will there be demons, I asked. No, you said. The Veil is thin, but it's still intact. No demons. You were bullshitting us all, weren't you?"
"Get with the times, Varric," Anders said, the crystal at the tip of his staff glowing a bright, almost blinding blue to reveal the terrain around them. "There always seem to be demons when Hawke gets mixed up in things."
Hawke's scarred face pulled down in a scowl. "Don't pin this on me. This was all Varric's idea."
"Maybe…" Merrill murmured anxiously, "…maybe they just want to talk?"
"YOU WILL BOW BEFORE MY MAJESTY," Greed thundered from the pillar in the center of the cavern. "OR YOU WILL DIE. MY FAITHFUL SUBJECTS WILL SEE TO THAT."
At the demon's words, the miners let out a furious roar, hoisting their weapons to the sky or slamming them against the ground. The enraged clash grew louder and louder until it drowned out all other sound. Then Greed let out a dark rumble and they all fell into silence.
"Yeah," Hawke sighed. "I don't think they want to talk."
"Well neither do I," Varric growled. He sighted in on the nearest dwarf and fired a crossbow bolt into the dirt at the man's feet. The dwarf hopped back, then fixed Varric with a dark and dangerous scowl.
Feeding another bolt into his weapon, the arbalist raised his voice until it echoed through the chamber. "All right, Precious!" he shouted. "Call off your goons before someone gets-"
He was cut off when a heavy stone whistled through the air and hit him in the temple. He staggered back with a curse, holding his face.
"Uh-oh," Merrill said.
The rest of the dwarves took this as their signal to attack; they sprinted forward with a cacophonous battle cry. In a matter of moments, the tense stillness of the cavern was shattered and the area erupted into motion. Dwarves scrambled over glowing outcroppings of lyrium, leaped over tall rocks in their path, even shoved at each other in their bloodthirsty clamor to reach the adventurers that had invaded their inner sanctum.
Hawke backpedaled and hit the nearest cluster of dwarves with a telekinetic Mind Blast, sending them sprawling into the dirt and stone that surrounded them. Another resisted the magical surge and closed on her, raising a hefty pickaxe. Hawke pivoted and brought the shaft of her staff down across his forehead, making him stagger away. She planted a boot in his back and sent him sprawling into his onrushing companions.
Behind her, she saw Anders raise a magical shield around Merrill, who was busy fending off attacks to their rear. She clenched a tiny fist and ripped a large chunk of rock from the ground, sending it flying at the nearest dwarf. The hunk of stone hit the miner square in the chest, knocking him off his feet. Merrill then took a step back and thrust her staff into the air. All around her, pillars of stone erupted from the ground, sending dwarves flying.
Varric was firing arrows in virtually all directions as fast as Bianca could manage. Hawke could hear the thick bolts screeching through the air, followed quickly by the screams of miners that were hit by his attacks. One miner tried swinging at him with a thick shovel and Varric easily ducked the blow, then struck him in the face with the stock of his weapon before firing point blank into the man's chest.
"No killing!" Hawke shouted over the din of battle. "We're supposed to be rescuing these people, remember?"
"Not sure we have a choice!" Anders shouted back. He sent out a Mind Blast of his own before telekinetically pinning a miner to an outcropping of lyrium. Merrill took advantage of this and pummeled the dwarf into unconsciousness by summoning a storm of rocks that swirled around him in a violent whirlwind.
"Blondie's right!" Varric shouted, backing up as more and more miners swarmed toward them. "We're outnumbered, Hawke! No choice but to fight back!"
Hawke scowled and summoned a Fireball spell, drawing on her inner mana before unleashing the blaze out and scattering the approaching dwarves.
"Be careful where you shoot that!" Anders shouted at her. "If you accidentally hit the lyrium, we could bring this whole cavern down around our ears! Elemental magic only, and don't hit the big glowing crystals!"
"Noted!" Hawke grimaced as she thrust her staff forward and unleashed a thick torrent of flame that engulfed a knot of oncoming attackers. They staggered away, screaming and desperately trying to douse the magic flame that now crawled up and down their bodies.
Elemental magic, as long as they were careful, would not react with the lyrium crystals. There was nothing wrong with using magic to draw upon the inherent elements of the natural world. But if any of the mages present were to draw on their more powerful spirit magic, unleashing spirit bolts or turning their opponents into Walking Bombs, the lyrium could send them all to the Maker's bosom before they could so much as blink.
Hawke ducked a large stone thrown at her head, then raised her hand and threw a stone of her own back at her attacker. A head-sized boulder ripped itself from the ground and smashed into one of several heavily-armored humans fighting with the dwarves; mercenary guards from the camp, no doubt.
Hawke felt sweat bead her forehead at the overwhelming expenditure of mana. Using elemental magic isn't so bad, she thought. More tiring, but I guess it's also more satisfying to watch the bad guys run around like flaming headless chickens than to simply disintegrate them anyway.
She projected a weak protection field in the air in front of her to block the incoming blow of a pickaxe, then thrust her staff forward and unleashed a focused blast of telekinetic energy that sent dwarves staggering, their heels digging into the dirt as they tried to resist the force pushing at them. It didn't knock them out of the fight, but it did give Hawke a few precious moments to catch her breath.
"SUMBIT YOURSELVES TO MY WILL," Greed thundered from its pillar. Hawke glanced up to see dwarven miners swarming around its massive feet, hammering away at the pillar with shovels, axes, and other mining equipment. They were frantic, almost rabid in their rush to please their demonic master. And the way they were chipping away at the rock face, it almost looked as if-
"Please tell me they aren't trying to let that thing out," she groaned. She slashed at an onrushing miner with the bladed end of her staff and the man crumpled to her feet. Her hand raised, levitating his limp body before throwing the body through the air at another opponent.
"We can't let that happen!" Anders shouted. "If Greed escapes-"
"Yeah, yeah," Varric grunted, firing a swift three-shot salvo at a knot of hammer-wielding miners. All three fell, clutching black-feathered crossbow bolts sticking from their chests. "He gets out, he trashes Kirkwall and then the world, and everything is gloom and doom until the end times. Why does everything we do always end up like this?"
"Don't look at me," Hawke shouted as she kicked an onrushing man in the face, sending him crashing to the ground. "This was your brilliant idea."
They retreated until all four were back-to-back, each fighting desperately against superior numbers. Hawke used her talent for pyromancy to keep the majority of dwarves on one side at bay. These miners were swiftly picked off by swift shots or explosive rounds fired from Varric's crossbow. Behind them, Merrill continued to slam pillars of stone and showers of rock into her attackers while Anders ensured she was protected by magic barriers so no miners got too close to her position.
"Just how many of these guys are there?!" Varric shouted.
"Lost count at twenty!" Hawke shot back. "We've still got thirty more before we beat Isabela's record."
Varric lowered his crossbow while he fed a new magazine of bolts into the weapon. "Then let's get to it. I'll be damned if I let that smug Rivaini keep bragging that she's been through the worst fights in the world."
Hawke grimaced as someone threw a shovel at her head. She deflected the projectile with her staff, then unleashed a storm of lighting from her palms that sent four dwarves into convulsions. But before she could reply to Varric's complaint, a deep, rumbling crack rang out over the battle.
Everyone – the dwarven attackers included – froze and looked to the source of the sound. Hawke looked up to find Greed was finally mobile, and very agitated. It was tugging hard against the stone that was imprisoning it and the thick rock binding its left arm was cracking and crumbling under the force of the demon's power. With a fountain of pulverized rock and tiny lyrium fragments, part of the pillar exploded out and Greed yanked one gem-encrusted arm free.
The entire cavern was silent, all eyes fixed on the demon. Hawke almost felt as if she was drawn to the sight, like she couldn't get away.
The dwarves at Greed's feet retreated as the debris began to rain down upon them, shrinking away into the shadows with heads bowed and hands raised in supplication. Greed's emerald eyes pulsed malevolently as it slowly twisted and stretched its free arm. It raised a skeletal stone hand to its face, flexing thick stone fingers with a deep grating of stone on stone. It slowly clenched a massive fist, letting out a deep chuckle.
"IT HAS BEEN MANY CENTURIES SINCE I WAS FREE," it boomed. "I HAD ALMOST FORGOTTEN THE SENSATION."
It slowly turned its glowing green eyes on Hawke and the others. "NOW DO YOU SEE? NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE MAJESTY OF MY PRESENCE?"
With an almighty wrench, it yanked its other arm free, smashing more of the center pillar in the process. Dwarves scattered, shouting and screaming as head-sized chunks of rubble rained down from the air above them. Several miners were crushed under the debris, but Greed paid them no mind. It reached down and ripped away the stone that enclosed its feet, hauling its thick stone "boots" away from the pillar. With a thundering roar that shook the ground beneath them, Greed surged forward and ripped away fully from the pillar. It staggered forward and collapsed into the ground, as if it had forgotten how to use its legs.
Hawke and the others watched the proceedings silently, their attackers having once more drifted back into the shadows. Varric was staring at the gigantic demon with wide eyes. When Greed began once again clambering to its feet, he let Bianca hang limp in his hands. "Well… shit."
Hawke gripped her staff tightly, narrowing her eyes. "You were right, Anders. It's like the Bone Pit all over again."
Anders scowled, tensing as Greed rose to its full height: over five meters tall. "Except we knew we could kill the dragons there. Do you have any idea how to kill this thing?"
"No. No I don't."
"Can we lure it outside?" Merrill asked. "Somewhere we don't have to be so careful of our magic?"
"Not sure," Hawke said. "Although we could always try and hope he gets stuck in the tiny tunnels."
"Something tells me," Anders hissed, "that he'd just bash his way out of the mountain and come after us."
Greed slowly stretched, flexing its gem-studded arms and looking up to the ceiling before letting out an earth-shattering, bestial roar. It stretched languidly, then turned its emerald eyes to Hawke and her group.
"AS I SAID, DEFIANCE IS POINTLESS," it boomed. It took one massive step forward, sending dwarves scattering in all directions. "I AM BEYOND YOUR PITIFUL MORTAL ABILITIES."
"He's not wrong," Varric muttered. "Bianca's a good girl, but I don't think she's ready for this."
Hawke stared at her surroundings. Anders noticed her gaze fall on the lyrium crystals and called, "No, don't even think about it, Hawke."
"What choice do we have? Varric is right; we're not ready for a fight like this."
"You could kill us all!"
"And if I don't try," Hawke shouted back, "Greed will kill us all!"
To punctuate her opinion, Greed reached down and ripped up a massive lyrium-studded chunk of the ground. It hefted it back and hurled it at them. The projectile roared through the air and only a well-timed bolt of fire from Hawke's staff broke it up. Anders projected a magical shield around them, protecting them from the rain of debris that quickly followed.
"Hawke is right," Varric grimaced as head-sized chunks of stone fell all around them. "Unless you plan on taking on the jewel-encrusted monstrosity all by your lonesome, Blondie."
Anders took a few steps back, raising his staff across his chest as the shield dissipated around them. "No. We can't risk it. Take him on like we've been dealing with the dwarves. I'll hang back and protect you with my own magic. I can heal you if need be."
Hawke glanced at Varric, ignoring Greed roaring in the background. She grunted, lighting a fireball spell at the end of her staff. "Guess we're doing it the hard way."
"Look on the bright side." The dwarf shrugged and fed another bolt into his crossbow. "It'll make for a much better story back at the Hanged Man."
The moment Leliana set foot inside the cave system, she knew something was wrong. The air was too close in here, too still and dead to be so full of energy and tension. She walked slowly down the sloping entrance path, careful not to accidentally dislodge a stone that could alert an enemy to her presence.
No signs of any of the dwarves Hawke and her companions were sent to find, she thought. And no signs of Hawke herself either.
She knew magic permeated the area; she was no mage, but she could feel it in the shiver running down her spine. She slowly drew a barbed, raven-feather arrow from the quiver on her back, hooking it to her bowstring and pulling out the tension, ready to fire at a moment's notice. Her daggers were sheathed over each shoulder, ready as a backup weapon should a possible fight grow too close for comfort.
She narrowed her eyes, almost able to feel the pulses of magic racing through the glowing lyrium embedded in the walls. This was a place of great power, a very ancient place housing very ancient magic. If she had been any other Chantry sister, she probably would have dropped to her knees to pray for the Maker's guidance in this dark and alien place. But she was the Nightingale, and had survived far more dangerous places than this.
She knelt at a fork in the path, tracing her fingers over a set of deep scuff marks in the dirt at her feet. Fresh tracks, made within the last hour. The depth of the tracks and the wide space between them suggested they were made by the stocky dwarf's steel-plated boots as he headed down the left tunnel.
She straightened with a sigh. So Hawke went this way. I'm not far behind.
What was she hoping to find in this Maker-forsaken place? The dwarves were obviously gone; prey to the magic coursing through this area, no doubt. Why not simply turn back and inform her employer that they had all disappeared?
But then, Leliana herself would never settle for such shoddy investigative work. She would want to know what had happened, how, and why. Her inquisitive nature and her history as an Orlesian spy would not allow her to rest until she discovered the secrets this mine had uncovered.
And they had definitely uncovered something. Leliana knew that a place this inundated with seething magical power was caused by something far more powerful than the lyrium crystals in the walls. She suspected demons would be involved, though she prayed that it was something far more benign.
There were wooden slats on the floor now, and signs of recent mining activity. Hawke's group had been through here as well. Leliana could still catch the faint scent of fresh-cut grass and pine needles; the scent of a Dalish elf.
She was familiar with that particular scent, though it only brought back painful memories. But before such thoughts could consume her, she heard a deep rumble and the crash of falling stones. Her eyes narrowed and her body tensed. Was Hawke returning this way?
She didn't think so. She could also hear shouting, and massive, thudding footsteps. These were the sounds of people caught in battle, not of approaching enemies. She broke into a run, sprinting down the tunnel and hoping Hawke wasn't dead already.
Leliana still had many questions to ask, and Hawke still had much to explain.
Merrill couldn't remember the last time she had fought so many enemies; or such large ones. The dwarves had returned at the bidding of their colossal master and were attacking from all sides with ever-increasing fervor.
She grimaced as she shoved away a dwarf waddling toward her with a shovel held high. If only they weren't penned in by lyrium. She could resort to purer forms of magic, sending out spirit bolts or turning her enemies into walking bombs. It turned her stomach a little to think of the carnage, but there was no denying spirit magic was much more powerful than the elemental spells they were resorting to.
But with the lyrium crystals surrounding them, they couldn't risk it. Elemental magic was safe; using magic to harness natural elements wouldn't react with the lyrium. But spirit magic – pure magic – would cause a chain reaction that could bring this cave down around their ears.
She raised her hand and ripped out a dwarf-sized chunk of dirt from the ground, sending it flying into a knot of onrushing miners, supported by a few of their human mercenary guards. The attackers were scattered, crashing into the ground or the thick glowing crystals that surrounded them. She threw her hands into the air and bound them there with thick plant roots that sprang up from between the rocks and darted forward like striking snakes.
Hawke and Varric were behind her, doing their best to keep Greed at bay. It was no easy feat, but they were managing quite well under the circumstances. Varric was unleashing bolt after bolt at the massive stone golem, having swapped Bianca's typical projectiles with new bolts tipped with explosive arrowheads. The fiery bolts gouged chunks out of Greed's "body" and sent it reeling with a massive roar.
Meanwhile, Hawke was putting her skill with pyromancy to its full use, unleashing gouts of flame that melted away at Greed's pillar-like legs and sent any dwarven supporters diving for cover. Every minute or so, Hawke would gather a ball of fire in her palm and send it flying, shooting up until it exploded against the stone skull that was Greed's head.
Anders was just to Merrill's right, making sure that any lucky hits that managed to penetrate their defenses were either dulled by healing magic or blocked completely by a magical protection field. On several occasions, only Anders' intervention saved Merrill from a stab wound or a blow to the head that would have seriously injured her, if not killed her. She nodded in thanks to the human, then focused herself on her task.
After what felt like an eternity of fighting, the dwarves began to taper off. Fewer and fewer threw themselves at her, and she found herself able to use smaller, less exerting spells to ward them off. She sent a blast of foul, noxious-smelling air shooting from the tip of her staff, causing the last cluster of miners to stagger and cough. While they were still distracted, she trapped them in a cage made from thick pillars of stone that burst from the ground and pinned them against the wall. She panted hard, watching the miners try in vain to claw their way out, then turned to Hawke and the others.
"That's the last of the dwarves!" she shouted over Greed's deafening roar.
"Good!" Hawke shouted, lighting another salvo of fireball spells in her hand. "Now we just have the fifteen-foot demon to worry about!"
Hawke drew back her fist and shot out an overcharged fireball bolt. The resulting explosion knocked one of Greed's emerald eyes out, sending the towering demon into a panic-driven frenzy. It stomped and roared, lashing out at Hawke with heavy, clumsy strikes. Varric shoved his way in front of Hawke, looking to protect his friend, and fired another explosive shot into the demon's stony shoulder.
Greed didn't slow down. It lumbered forward and kicked out with a thick leg, catching Varric full in the chest and sending the dwarf flying head-over heels. Bianca clattered to the ground, firing one last bolt that embedded itself in a trapped miner's neck. The bolt exploded, cracking open Merrill' stone prison and sending bodies sprawling. Varric crashed down a few feet away, his arm bent at a painful-looking angle and his face mashed into the dirt. He didn't rise again.
"Varric!" Hawke shouted in dismay. She lowered her staff and made to sprint after her wounded friend.
"No!" Anders ordered. "Stay there and keep Greed busy! I'll help Varric!"
But if he leaves, Merrill thought, who will keep Hawke safe from Greed?
She was never all that good at healing magic or force fields, but she could help in other ways. She thrust her staff forward and began swirling it in a tight figure-eight pattern. At her bidding, thick tendrils of roots began pushing their way up through the ground, slithering up Greed's feet and anchoring him to the floor. Hawke took advantage of this to hit it with a bolt of fire that punched a hole straight through its arm. Greed roared and punched down at her, meaning to squash her like an annoying insect.
Merrill reacted without thinking. She dropped her staff and threw her hands out, projecting the strongest magical protection field she could muster. A shimmering sphere of greenish-white energy enveloped Hawke, and Greed's giant fist smashed against it hard enough to send chips of its stone hand flying into the air. Hawke winced within her protective bubble, as if half-expecting to be dead. Merrill grimaced as she fought to maintain the field.
Maintaining a spell this powerful was tiring, but Merrill ignored her quivering muscles or her fatigued mind and poured all her considerable power into maintaining the protection field. Anders was still busy tending to Varric, so she couldn't depend on him for help. It was up to her.
Greed pulled back and punched again, and Merrill saw the magical light of her barrier flicker. She bit her lip and re-doubled her efforts, strengthening the field with as much mana she could pour into the spell. She could feel sticky, hot blood began to drip down from her nose; a sure sign she was expending too much energy.
Another ground-shaking punch and the field disappeared. Merrill gasped and fell to her knees, exhausted. Hawke wasn't fast enough to dodge Greed's next punch, expecting the protective field to still be there. The blow slammed her against the floor, sending her staff clattering from her hands. She groaned as Greed pulled back, then cried out in pain as it punched down again.
It reared back again and boomed, "SO NOW YOU SEE THE FOLLY OF MORTAL ARROGANCE. I MAY HAVE BEEN TRAPPED HERE FOR GENERATIONS, BUT MY POWER IS AS DEADLY AS EVER."
His fist began to descend once more, and this time Hawke would not survive the blow. Merrill couldn't let that happen, couldn't stand idly by and watch her best friend be murdered by a fifteen-foot stone demon. She frantically grabbed for her staff and shoved it forward, not caring what spell she cast as long as it did as much damage to Greed as possible. She summoned up all the mana she had left, then poured it all into her staff.
Please, she thought, let the spell be powerful. Powerful enough to stop Greed. Powerful enough to do something that will save us all.
Her wish was granted; a blaze of purplish light exploded from the wooden shaft of her staff as a spirit bolt screamed out toward Greed's fist. She heard Anders shout, "No!" from somewhere behind her, but she didn't care. As long as it stopped Greed from killing Hawke, she could live with Anders' shouting later.
The bolt roared forward, seeming to move in slow motion as Greed's fist descended. But when it hit, it didn't blow the demon's hand off, or send it staggering away from Hawke's limp form. It hit Greed's jewel-encrusted skin and… ricocheted.
Merrill covered her eyes as there was a blast of searing white light and the spirit bolt came screeching back toward her. She staggered out of the way and watched as the spirit bolt hit the ground and ricocheted again, flying away toward a cluster of lyrium.
"No!" she shouted, as if the foolish bolt could hear her. "Not that way!"
The spirit bolt hit the lyrium, cracking the crystal's flawless blue surface. The purple glow popped, sending sparks skittering across the ground. The light in the lyrium crystal died, leaving the stone a dull gray color, glowing a brilliant blue only around the newly-formed cracks in its surface.
In the span of an instant, it was as if everything happening in the cavern had stopped; everything fell unnaturally quiet, and everyone – even Greed – was staring at the damaged crystal, hanging on what would happen next.
A high-pitched whistle began to rise from the damaged crystal, like tea beginning to boil. Merrill watched it with slowly widening eyes and thought, This is not going to be good.
The lyrium shattered, shards flying outward like someone had put their fist through a pane of glass.
Merrill had time to cover her eyes with her hands before a silent explosion rocked the cavern around them and a brilliant flash of deep green light left her seeing stars. She saw a wash of deep green fire erupt from mid-air, roiling and twisting in on itself.
She turned away, letting out a scream as all sound suddenly came rushing back. A heavy wind buffeted her and tugged at her hair. Human-sized hunks of rock were blasted away from the epicenter of an explosion that carved a deep crater in the bedrock beneath her feet. A deep roar enveloped her, drowning out all sounds as she was driven to her knees by the force of the blast.
Is this it? She thought, squeezing her eyes shut. Did I just kill us all?
Then the roar slowly died and everything went quiet once again. There were no more explosions, no more shouts, and no more roaring demons. Just…. silence.
She knelt on the hard stone floor, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. But when a good thirty seconds passed and nothing happened, she slowly opened one eye, then the other. She glanced around, snatching up her staff and clutching it tight to her chest.
Am I dead? she thought, wide-eyed. I thought being dead would be… weirder. I don't feel any different. But the cave…
The cavern in which she and her friends had been fighting was now bathed in a pulsing, sickly green light. The green glow was overpowering everything else, casting long shadows on the ground and making them jump and twitch in frightful contortions. The lyrium all around her seemed to have dimmed, fading back to a dull gray rather than the usual vibrant blue; almost as if all the magic had been sucked right out of the stones.
The entire area was as still as a grave. No shouts from Hawke or Anders, no roars from Greed, and no clash of weapons from the dwarven miners. She could barely hear herself breathe. Just dead, echoing silence.
"H-Hawke?" she called. "Are you all right?"
As she looked around, she saw that she wasn't alone in the cavern. Hawke and the others were still there, but they were…
Frozen? she thought. How is that possible? No one used any paralysis magic. And why else would they all be lying about like that?
Hawke still lay sprawled on the ground, clutching her chest while Greed's fist still loomed over her. Anders was still crouched over Varric's limp form, his hands glowing as he fought to heal the dwarven rogue. And the miners still surrounded them, all either unconscious or trapped in pens of stone or plants.
But no one was moving. They had become as still as statues, like time itself had ceased to have any effect. Merrill shivered and quickly moved forward to pull Hawke away from Greed's hulking form. But before she could get far, she finally heard a sound.
A loud crackle, like a mix of electricity and the snapping of a falling tree branch, hissed out from somewhere behind her. The air sizzled, as if the atmosphere itself was flinching in surprise. She slowly turned around, eyes wide and fearful; whatever this was, she had never seen it in all her studies of magic or demons.
Floating in mid-air behind her was a glowing cloud of glowing green mist, all swirling and pulsing around a thick cluster of green-black crystal that seemed to twist and crack in mid-air. It was strangely beautiful, even if it let out another hissing crackle every few seconds as the sharp-looking crystals drew in to the center of the cloud. The entire misty anomaly was enveloped by threads of brilliant green-white light that undulated and twisted in an almost elegant dance.
Merrill jumped as it let out another crackle and the crystals shrank into a small ball in the center of the mist. Then, slowly, they began to push outward again, twitching and scraping against each other. These crystals seemed to be at the epicenter of the phenomenon, creating a core around which everything else orbited. There was a sharp oval shape surrounding this crystal core that shivered and danced.
But it wasn't clear like the rest of the light. Merrill could see something between the lines of these strands of lightning, and it wasn't the cavern on the other side of the mist. Dark cobblestone and rock peeked through to her view. It was surreal, like looking through a window into another world.
How strange, she thought, taking a cautious step forward. It's almost like… like a doorway. But not any kind of magical doorway I've ever seen. But then, I haven't seen many magical doorways. And I'd never even really seen an actual door until I came to Kirkwall. The aravels always just had those tent-flaps…
She shook her head. Focus, Merrill. What is this thing? A portal to another part of Sundermount? It could be. I can almost see something on the other side… Is this what was causing all that Fade tension I was feeling earlier?
She jumped back and let out a frightened squeak when something came through the portal. A voice: thin, shaking and afraid. Merrill's eyes were even wider than normal as she cautiously stepped toward the cloud.
"Hello? Hello, is anyone there?"
She stayed silent. She didn't know what this was or who was talking to her. Remember what Keeper always said. Don't talk to strangers. Especially strangers communicating through magic.
"Please," the voice pleaded. "If anyone is there, please tell me. I'm… I'm so scared."
Merrill bit her lip. Whoever this was, they were afraid and alone. She knew she shouldn't talk to her but, against her better judgement, she called, "Um… who are you?"
The voice paused. "Who… is there someone there? Oh, thank the Maker… you need to help me! I need to get out of here! I'm trapped and I don't know where I am!"
"Who are you?" Merrill repeated.
"My name… it's been so long… Vali? That sounds right. Yes, my name is Vali. Where are you? What happened?"
Merrill glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting this all to be some kind of trick. She glanced back to the glowing greenish mist and squeezed her staff for reassurance. "I… I don't know what happened. I'm in a cavern, deep underground. I… used magic I wasn't supposed to. I think the reaction created this thing… I think it's a doorway of some kind."
She took another step closer. "Can I help you? What's wrong?"
Vali's voice was tight with fear. "I'm trapped in here. I don't know where I am!"
She paused. "Who… who are you?"
Merrill fidgeted. "My name is Merrill. I'm a Dalish mage. And I think you're in the Fade."
"Merrill?" Vali said. "Wait… the Merrill?"
The young elf cocked her head. "I… think so? I'm not sure how many other Merrills there are, even in the Fade. I mean, there could be more, I guess, but I've never met them and-"
Vali interrupted her with a jubilant cry of, "Thank the Maker! I'm going to be all right!"
Merrill frowned. "Are you so sure? I haven't actually done anything besides open this… this doorway."
"I've heard all about you from the spirits of the Fade!" Vali's voice cried. "They say you are one of the most brilliant mages they've met in generations!"
Merrill blushed and stammered, "Oh… w-well, thank you."
"They say that you're trying to repair one of the ancient Eluvians, and that you are so clever that you can even trick demons into helping you!"
Merrill blushed deeper. "I… I didn't exactly trick them…"
"The spirits say they've met you in your dreams and had many conversations with you. They say you know all about spirits and demons and the link between our worlds. If anyone can get me out of here, it's you!"
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Merrill said. She glanced over her shoulder, back at Greed and Hawke. "You see… well, I'm kind of in a spot of trouble on this side. My friends and I… we're fighting a demon."
"A demon?"
She nodded vehemently. "A really, really big one called Greed. It's going to kill my friend, Hawke!"
"Now?"
"Well… not really. Something happened. Everything on this side froze. No one is moving."
"That might be me," Vali said. "I could probably get everything un-frozen again. And if I did… well, if you got me out of here, I could help you."
"How? Do you have weapons?"
"No, but I can help in other ways. I don't know how long I've been in here, and my body in the real world has certainly gone back to dust by now. But maybe… maybe I could tag along with you? I used to be a mage too. I can use magic to help!"
That sent red flags up at once. Merrill took a step back and said, "Wait… aren't you a spirit?"
"Well… sort of. I was born something different, but it was so long ago… I don't quite remember."
Merrill shook her head. "I'm not going to let another demon come through this doorway. If you mean to harm me, I'll shut it right in your face. Somehow…"
"Please don't go!" Vali begged, causing Merrill to pause. "I've been in here so long, and I so desperately want to go back to my real home. I… I may not be the kindest or most pure spirit, but I promise not to harm you. And even if I try, you're Merrill! You could easily pacify me and send me straight back!"
Merrill hesitated. It was true that she had more experience with spirits than any other member of her group. Even Anders, who had willingly invited one into his body. How much harm could this one do? She had stopped potential possessions several times since she became the Keeper's apprentice, and could easily do it again. And Vali didn't seem treacherous. Just… lonely. And afraid. In a strange place with no one to turn to.
Just like me when I first arrived in Kirkwall, she thought. And when I needed a friend, Hawke was my helping hand, the one person who was willing to trust me even when all my friends told her not to.
Maybe… maybe she could be that kind of friend to Vali. She liked that idea.
"I promise," Vali continued, voice shaking, "if you let me out, I'll help you with this Greed demon. Then I'll be gone. You'll never have to worry about me again. And if I misbehave, you can send me back here. I won't try and stop you."
Something was moving in the misty green could again, and it was shooting out forks of brilliant green-hued lightning now. Merrill could feel the tension growing in the air, like the whole cavern was about to explode.
She glanced back over her shoulder at Hawke, lying prone on the ground with Greed towering over her. Vali seemed to sense her indecision, for she whispered, "Imagine how powerful we could be together. Everyone else would envy our teamwork. We could swat Greed away like a fly and be heroes!"
Merrill couldn't deny that the thought was appealing. She could imagine Anders clapping her on the back, congratulating her for a job well done while Varric beamed proudly from behind, giving her a silent nod of approval. And Hawke…
She blushed at the thought of just what Hawke would do, but quickly pushed the idea from her mind, lest Vali sense it and bring it to light.
"Just think of it," Vali purred. "Your friends will be talking about it for months to come. They'd love you for it."
"I… I don't know."
"I know what they used to call you," Vali said slowly. "Back in your clan. I can hear it on your thoughts. Demon-bait… and Abomination. Why did they call you that?"
Merrill's heart sank at the memory. "They… they didn't like that I was repairing the Eluvian. Some friends of mine, Tamlen and Mahariel… they were poisoned by its magic. The rest of the clan thought it was too dangerous to bring it back. That I was risking possession."
She bit her lip. "Hawke and the others think so too. When I first showed them my blood magic… they were afraid. Like I could turn into an abomination at any second. I won't. I know what I'm doing!"
"And you thought you could use spirits to help you? To repair this… Eluvian?"
Merrill nodded. "Keeper always said that not all spirits were bad. But when I tried to ask spirits to help me, she always grew so cross. We would argue, and she would shout that demons were influencing me."
She glanced over her shoulder at Greed's frozen mass. "If only she could see me now. She wouldn't think any demons were manipulating me. I'm fighting the demons now."
"What if you could change their minds? What if you could prove that not all spirits were bad? That some could help you? Wouldn't they forgive you?"
Merrill didn't think anyone in her clan would ever forgive her; they were too angry. But maybe, just maybe, she could indeed prove them all wrong. Maybe she could prove that she did know what she was doing, that it wasn't right to be constantly afraid of the Fade and the magic it created. That spirits could be your friends, if only you trusted them!
It was dangerous, but it was also worth it. So she squeezed her eyes shut. "All right. Let's do this… together."
In an instant, the tendrils of green-white light from the mist snapped out and ensnared her arms and legs, trapping her in place. She cried out, struggling against the glowing bonds that slowly began to draw her toward the crystalline mass in the center of the mist, like a spider drawing its prey in along a line of webbing. As she was dragged closer, she saw thin, shadowy arms creep out from the center of the glowing storm, reaching for her with long, spindly fingers.
"Wait!" she cried. "Wait, what are you doing?"
A dark chuckle warbled out of the portal. "Did you really think any sane spirit would stoop to help you, mortal? A foolish little elven girl, playing with forces she does not understand? You are beyond salvation, dear Merrill. You are nothing more than prey now."
Merrill struggled against the glowing bonds holding her. "No! No, you said you would help! You promised!"
"And I shall," Vali purred, drawing her ever closer to the green mist. Merrill began sobbing as she was yanked closer, struggling in vain against the magical ties that pulled her in. Her heels dug into the sharp gravel at her feet, but she couldn't slow her approach. "But I can't kill Greed until I have a suitable body. Yours."
Merrill tried to summon some spell – any spell – to free herself. Maybe if she could shoot another spirit bolt at the lyrium, she could-
But another tendril of light wrapped around her throat, dragging her headlong into the mist. In the next instant, the world exploded into a thousand slivers of red-hot pain and she threw her head back in a shriek that consumed her entire world. All thoughts of magic were driven from her mind as a dark cloud of shadow enveloped her, sinking into her skin and making her flesh burn as if it were all on fire.
"Foolish girl," Vali hissed, her voice no longer thin and afraid. Now it was dark and sinister, more a hiss than a voice. "You foolish little girl. You belong to me now."
Merrill saw a flash of green. Then she was plunged into frigid cold and terrifying blackness.
Hawke wasn't quite sure what happened. One minute she was being pummeled by Greed's fist, the world around her shaking with every subsequent blow. Stars swam in her vision and she knew her armor wouldn't hold up under another fearsome blow.
But the next second, there was an earth-shattering explosion and a thick shockwave of sickly green light. She heard Anders shout, "No!" and then Greed roared out, "YOU!"
Hawke craned her aching neck to see none other than Merrill standing in the middle of a maelstrom of green-hued energy, with chunks of rock and lyrium twisting and waving around her like she was the center of a miniature tornado. Her staff lay shattered on the ground next to her and her tiny hands were balled into fists that shone with a sickly green mist.
The spectral wind picked up as Merrill lifted her head to meet Greed's emerald gaze. When the Dalish mage opened her eyes, Hawke let out a choked gasp; they were glowing a bright, pulsating red. Merrill's thin, tattooed face was twisted into a mask of rage and hatred as she reached out and clenched a fist.
Greed let out a strangled croak a half second before its body was twisted and mangled by gigantic invisible hands. In the blink of an eye, its head was yanked around, its arms ripped from their stony sockets, and its legs folded up and mashed against its body. What was left of the demon was rent and torn, crushed together like a child playing with clay.
Merrill let her fist drop and what was left of Greed crashed to the floor, sending bits of rock and gemstone skittering away from the impact. Hawke weakly dragged herself away, wiping at her sweaty brow. She watched as tiny pebbles rained down on Greed's stony carcass. The demon didn't move again, the light glowing behind its emerald eyes suddenly and violently extinguished.
"Wow," she breathed, turning back to Merrill. "Perhaps you could lead with that next time?"
But Merrill wasn't done. As Hawke watched, the tiny elf turned her back and raised her hands to the ceiling, clenching her hands into fists again and murmuring something beneath her breath. That same glowing green mist began to swirl around her palms, and the ground began to shake beneath them.
"Merrill…" Hawke slowly said. "What are you doing?"
The young mage swung back to Hawke. When she spoke, her voice was a twisted, hoarse growl.
"Earning my freedom," she snarled.
Then she ripped her hands down. With a roar, the ceiling high above them gave way. Hunks of stone twice Hawke's size began raining down around her, shaking the ground and spraying her with debris. Hawke covered her eyes and tried to stagger to her feet, but she was too wounded from her bout with Greed to stand. She collapsed to the ground and shouted, "Merrill! What the hell are you doing? Stop this!"
But the young elf was already gone, sprinting for the exit tunnel as fast as her bare feet could take her. Hawke watched her flee in disbelief, her pale gray eyes wide.
Merrill… she would never abandon us! Granted, she would never bring an underground cavern ceiling crashing down around us either, but-
Any further thought was driven from her mind as a shower of stone pelted her armor. She rolled out of the way as a two-meter-thick chunk of the ceiling slammed into the ground where she had been laying. Another rock just as large smashed to the ground to her right, and yet another one further up.
"The whole cave is collapsing!" she heard Anders shout over the din. "Why did she do that?!"
"I don't know!" Hawke shouted back, trying to crawl through the hurricane of debris to reach her remaining friends. "Just try not to get crushed and we can sort it out later!"
A head-sized chunk of rock hit her square in the back, making her cry out in pain. She clambered up over a small lip and tucked herself against a tall boulder, seeking protection from the cave-in. She heard the miners screaming as rocks pelted them or outright crushed them, but she couldn't fight her way through the storm to save them. Even if she did, they would probably try to kill her anyway.
Suddenly, Anders roared, "Hawke! Look out!"
She rolled over in time to see the rest of the ceiling give way; a sea of rocks and gems and dirt raining down on them, coming to swallow her and her friends up whole.
She did the only thing she could think of; she screamed and crossed her arms in an X across her chest. Blue-white light burst from her fists a moment before the entire world came crashing down around her.
Kirkwall (Present)
Cassandra folded her arms, cocking her head in curiosity. "I find it surprising Merrill was so easily drawn in to the demon's lies."
Varric shrugged. "Demons have a way of twisting your senses, Seeker. They tell you what you want to hear, spin stories with a skill that makes even me jealous. You can rant all you want about resisting demonic temptation, but trust me: it's easier said than done."
"The Chantry believes it a threat for a reason," Sister Nightingale added. "Why else would mages be tested with a Harrowing? To resist a demon's temptations in person, rather than simply reading of it."
Cassandra nodded. "Very well. Perhaps there was more happening than we could see."
Varric settled back in his seat, folding his fingers into a steeple. "Demons are a tricky bunch, Seeker. Some of them go their whole existences wanting nothing to do with humans. Others plot and scheme non-stop, trying to worm or weasel their way into our world. And others don't show up for generations until the precise moment when their influence most effective – and the most devastating."
"And this Vali?" the Seeker posed. "She was…?"
"A pride demon," Varric said. "A demon of Validation, sustained by thoughts of being undervalued, unappreciated. As you can imagine, that hit Daisy pretty close to home."
"I have read of such demons," Cassandra said. "They prey upon past experiences and use them as weapons against you."
"Right on the money, Seeker. Why, it's almost starting to sound as if you were right there with us."
Her face drew down in a scowl. "Shut up. I do not need your sarcasm."
He raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Just trying to lighten your mood a bit."
"I wonder why the demon kept its word," Leliana said, rubbing her chin. "Why it killed Greed instead of leaving Hawke and the others to their fate."
Varric shrugged. "Maybe it was a decent sort of demon. Even scheming, conniving body-snatchers have to have some sense of a moral center. Besides, can't a broken promise lead to powerfully self-destructive magic? Curses and the like?"
"You may have a point," Cassandra grudgingly admitted. "But after the demon possessed Merrill, the ceiling collapsed, and you were all trapped… what happened then?"
Varric was about to continue when Sister Nightingale surprisingly beat him to it.
"That," she said, "was where I found them."
