Ten
"Watch your flank, Dominic!"
The young man turned just in time to bring his shield up and catch the gnarled, iron blade.
Cain threw a slash to his right to try to buy the teen a little breathing room. The cavern was filled with the smells of smoke, stinking filth, red lyrium fumes and smoldering flesh. The passageway was narrow, the only thing that was keeping them alive at the moment.
"Cain look out!" A snap of lightning whizzed past his head and he leapt back just as the large warhammer smashed down into the stone in the place where he was standing. The hulking hurlock gave a roar and hefted the giant maul back over his shoulder.
Dominic slashed, raking his sword across the armor of the smaller hurlock, slashing a rusted breastplate and spilling black, putrid blood out of the fresh wound. The darkspawn was not phased and pressed the attack.
He could hear more scraping their way up from underground. Their chittering and gibbering echoed throughout the stone cavern, long shadows cast down the corridor as the red lyrium crystals pulsed in the dark.
"Fall back before we're overrun!" Cain shouted, slashing down on the hurlock that was occupying Dominic's attention. His chest rocked again as another arrow punctured his armor, just below the first that had pierced his breastplate and caught on the rings underneath. "Somebody kill that fucking archer!"
"I can't see it!" Lina shouted from behind him as she loosed another arrow at the alpha. "He's somewhere in the darkness."
"Move!" Anya screamed.
He could feel vibrations in the ether as the mage pulled power into herself. She was drawing heavily into the Fade. The fight had dragged on for too long and she was tiring, drawing on the power too deeply, putting herself at risk of weakening the Veil or inadvertently pulling across something wicked.
"Hold, Dominic!" he bellowed. The young man pulled to the side and ducked behind his shield and Cain pulled up his sword to defend as he could feel Anya ready the spell.
The mage stepped up, extending her left arm in front of her as she sprayed a cone of lightning into the corridor. The bolts crept along the walls, bending through the air. The lightning piercing through the smaller hurlock, broke upon the larger alpha. The white and purple light illuminated the narrow hall, showing another half dozen darkspawn charging toward them.
The archer was pulling his bowstring when an arrow took it in the face.
Red energy glowed off the hurlock alpha as it lowered its head and charged.
"Get out!" Cain had enough time to yell as the darkspawn plowed into him, knocking him off his feet. He hit the stone floor, the wind pushed out of his lungs. He rolled out of the way as the giant maul smashed a hole into the rock, red lyrium energy pulsing off the weapon.
The others didn't listen. Two weak balls of lightning hit the alpha in the chest and Dominic was over him, his shield forward defensively as Cain slid back and pushed himself to his feet again.
There was darkspawn screaming deeper in the tunnel.
The hurlock lifted his maul and Dominic attacked. He stabbed ahead, finding a joint between the black, blood-slickened armor of the giant darkspawn. The sword wedged as he tried to pull it back, and the darkspawn swung one of his muscled arms, swatting Dominic into the wall as if he were a paper doll.
The tiny red lyrium crystals on its warped face, inside its mouth behind jagged teeth, and the larger crystal growing out of its spine all pulsed with energy again. The alpha roared a challenge as Cain stepped up again, both hands clasped around the hilt of his greatsword as he stepped in front of a dazed Dominic to shield him.
Anya was throwing a barrage of lightning at the darkspawn, bolts so weak they were nothing but gnats to the giant darkspawn. The rapid fire kept it distracted, but Cain could feel Anya's strength slipping quickly. She had lived her entire life in the Circle. She wasn't battle-trained and tested and the protracted fight was beyond her abilities.
His own chest was heaving and sweat poured across his entire body. Sharp lances of pain were shooting up his right side. The first arrow had been stopped but the second had found purchase through his armor and was wedged somewhere in his side. One of the other darkspawn had left a new rend in his breastplate on the left side and something had clawed him across the face, leaving streaks of hot blood running across his left cheek.
He flared his power and the lightning bolts from Anya ceasely instantly as he drew on his anti-magic. She cried aloud at the sudden surge, her magical ability unexpected neutralized. He was exhausted, but he pulled within the arcane strength inside him now just to keep him going.
"Get Dominic and Anya out of here! That's an order!" he shouted again and charged the hurlock.
The stone beneath his feet was slick with black darkspawn blood as he pushed ahead, throwing hard slashes down on the hurlock. It lifted its great maul to block them, but the anti-magic sapped the red energy that it had been gathering. Each strike he landed pulled on his reserve of stamina.
The darkspawn took another wide swing with the large hammer and Cain threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into the darkspawn's flank to avoid the massive strike, but forcing himself deeper into the cavern.
"Cain!" someone yelled from behind him but he couldn't hear. As he gathered his balance he quickly twirled and slashed his blade down, pulsing his anti-magic harder as he drove the edge of the sword into the thick, iron greaves covering the darkspawn's thigh. Another arrow zipped past him, striking the wall of the cavern.
There was fire deeper down the hall. The darkspawn shrieks were louder. All he could see were two fiery wisps twirling in the air.
A meaty fist slammed him in the back and he fell forward, losing his grip on his sword. Cain fell on top of another darkspawn corpse - one someone had killed earlier in the fight - smearing black blood across the front of him and snapping the arrow shaft that was protruding from his armor. A searing pain shot up his ribcage as he hit the ground.
He rolled onto his back as the maul exploded into the darkspawn corpse, just inches from his head. Blood and bits of bone sprayed against his face, blinding his left eye.
"Move or you're dead!" his training screamed to him. He rolled again onto his stomach and crawled forward, scraping his way up onto his forearms and up to his feet like a dog. The fiery wisps were closer now. In between the glow and the shadows he could see the glint of silver armor - blue and white stripes streaming in the darkness. "Warden!"
The flames dispatched another darkspawn and the Warden bolted forward past Cain. He turned his head as the flaming blades trailed fire down the corridor. The alpha swung his maul once more, but the Warden slipped past it as if it had been moving at half-speed.
The blades cut swiftly back and forth, leaving smoldering ash as they slashed armor and corrupted flesh. The lumbering darkspawn tried to grab the Warden, but the warrior spun, her feet kicking and run up the wall to get around the darkspawn's flank.
The hurlock let out a great roar and stumbled forward, trying to reach toward it back. Cain could hear metal shearing and the blades came around, cutting its muscled throat. The hurlock teetered and fell, shaking the entire corridor as its massive body hit the ground in a thud.
The corridor was quiet.
The Warden approached him as he stood, his hand covering the arrow wound in his side. It was a woman. An elf. And a Dalish. Thin flowing lines of a tattoo covered most her face in an ink that was fiery red. She looked Cain top to bottom quickly and was reaching into pouches hanging off her belt.
"If you want to live, you will remain still," she said, pouring some type of liquid on a rag. "Drink this, quickly." She tossed him a small bottle filled with a greenish-brown liquid that didn't look very appetizing. He pulled out the small stopper and drank it, and it tasted nearly as bad as it had looked.
Before he could even drop the glass from his lips, she was wiping the scratch on the side of his face with the rag, pressing it down into the cuts. "Hold that," she said, reaching back down to her belt.
"There will be pain," she said as she threw his hand aside from the arrow wound. Her fingers pricked in between the pieces of armor and she harshly tugged on the arrowhead. Cain grunted in pain as she ripped it out of his side, the barbs tearing more of his flesh on the way out. Her fingers dabbed into a salve and she roughly rubbed it into the wound. The paste burned like fire and she placed a bandage on top of it. "Hold that too. The darkspawn typically poison their arrows. If you don't start throwing up blood in the next five minutes, that's a good sign. It could be days before the taint starts to take root in your blood, if you've been infected," the Dalish said flatly.
She was older, her skin slightly creased and her face was covered with scars. Her blonde hair was tied back to keep it off of her forehead. He features were flat and angular. Her eyes were narrow and focused as she worked.
"Are there other wounded?" she asked.
"Maybe our other fighter, Dominic," Cain said. His wounds were still burning from whatever she had put on him.
She turned and walked away toward the others without another word.
The entire mission had been a disaster from the start.
After leaving Bricker's Break, they had made their way to the spot marked on the map, a crack in the canyon. They had creeped through the darkness until the cave opened into the cove. A ship sat at anchor, filled with chests of red lyrium.
Dead Red Templars were scattered all over the stony shore. That hadn't been the problem.
It was the live Red Templars, uncorrupted Templars, mages and darkspawn that were still living within. Together. Not killing each other.
Two Red Templars were holding a hurlock, it shrieked and struggled but it was being held in check by a mage. A young woman, olive-skinned, wearing a dark robe. She held her palm open just before the spitting darkspawn's face. The crystals growing out of the Red Templars pulsed in rhythm, red energy lacing over the darkspawn. It would struggle and try to break free, only to be wracked with some internal pain obviously at the behest of the mage.
Cain could feel the blood magic that coursed through her.
The pool of black and red blood intermixed at the hurlock's feet boiled as she drew power from it. Her lips moved wordlessly until red light began to pour from the darkspawn's eyes and mouth as if fire was burning inside his skull.
The Red Templars released the darkspawn. It fell to the ground and cowered, looking around at all of the warriors surrounded it. "Rise, you disgusting creature," the blood mage commanded. The darkspawn stood, shakily. But it stood, obeying.
The blood mage turned her head. "The wards have been tripped. We are not alone," she declared. "Find the intruders and kill them!"
If they had stepped over wards, it was nothing Cain or Anya had noticed. All of the soldiers, Templars and darkspawn alike, snapped to attention. The blood mage and some of the other Templars were making their way to the ship. Interrupted and discovered, they weren't intending to stay.
"Etienne, recall the others. Prepare to leave. We must not linger," she ordered.
Cain had pushed the others back down the cavern, but their hurried scrambling was loud and caught the attention of their attackers. Before they could escape, the first of the darkspawn was on them.
He now shuffled down the hall, past the bodies of darkspawn and Red Templars, both, that they had felled in the retreat. The stink of darkspawn flesh was more powerful that even the red lyrium, although his head wasn't swimming from the fumes of the lyrium.
Since the incident in the Hinterlands, he had completely cut himself off. He had turned over his vials to Anya for her safekeeping. She had offered, no, wanted, to help him. She had suggested a swift break from lyrium, although dangerous, might be the best to protect him from the effects of the red lyrium. Both substances were fundamentally the same, so as long as he was medicating with the blue lyrium, the red would be just as potent, she suggested.
It appeared to be working. His lungs weren't burning and he didn't feel that bitter chalkiness upon his lips now, at least, not as strongly as he had before.
But his entire body ached after the exertion, and he had already been feeling lousy before the pitched fighting. Without any lyrium, he had felt feverish and weak ever since leaving the Hinterlands. He couldn't sleep. When he manage to slip into sleep, he was plagued with nightmares, twisted visions of reality that were strange and frightening. When he woke, his head pounded and his mouth had gone dry. Inside him, his body screamed for lyrium.
By the fourth day, as he walked, the landscape before him seemed fuzzy and odd. The air was hazy.. His body was on fire and at times he felt confused as to whether he awake or trapped in another nightmare.
Anya was always at his side, weaving small spells that were undetectable to the others but that helped to calm his mind, steady his vision. As she worked her subtle magic, the energy she bent from the Fade seemed to fill the holes the lyrium was punching inside him, if only for a few moments.
When they had reached Bricker's Break, she had suggested he try to purge his system, to force out whatever lyrium might be lingering. He had agreed, trusting her intuition. At night, while Dominic and Lina stayed at the house, they had walked about a mile from time to a secluded part of the shore. Anya gave him a weak mixture of poisonous herbs.
He spent hours on his knees violently vomiting in the sea until his throat burned with acid and his stomach lurched dry. He sipped water, only to throw it up moments later. Even at his weakest, she forced him to use his powers, to summon the spirit energy within him as in an effort to burn the power of any lyrium latently holding in his blood.
Cain pushed as much energy as he could out of him until he was barely able to support himself on all fours and the exertion caused his stomach to twist and heave again.
Anya was weak too, from standing so close as he pulsed his Templar power. Each time he could tell she was in anguish as he cut her from the Fade, blocking her connection and sapping her strength. She did not waver.
By the time the effects of the poisons faded hours later, Anya had to hold him up and help him walk back to the village. She helped lay him down on the floor of the small home and cast a sleep spell over him to help him rest.
For the first night in many days, he did not dream and slept deeply.
Now, the disgust at the site of the corrupted Red Templars and his fatigue from the previous night were what he felt. Not rage, confusion or paralysis from the red lyrium. He moved on, not wanting to jinx himself if it was perhaps luck, and nothing more, that kept him grounded in the moment.
"This one should be fine," the Dalish said as she finished inspecting Dominic. "I've given him a draught to protect against any miasma, but I do not think he will sicken."
"Thank you. For your help," Cain said. "How did you know we were here?"
"I did not. I sensed that the darkspawn here were alarmed, under attack by some sort of enemy. They were frightened and confused, so I rushed to investigate and lend aid to their foes," the Dalish said.
"We're glad for it, Warden," Dominic said. "If you hadn't showed up-"
"You'd all be dead. This is known. Why are their blood mages here and what are these corrupted Templars?" the Warden asked.
She was blunt and serious. Cain had never met a Grey Warden that wasn't constantly grim. There must be some out there somewhere, but he had never crossed one. He knew they carried a heavy burden in defending against the Blight, but they had always struck him as joyless. "Red Templars. They have been imbibing red lyrium. It has been spreading across the land. We don't know why. Templars can draw upon for strength like regular lyrium, but it drives them mad and transforms them."
The Warden stepped past Cain back down the cavern and crouched next to the body of the hurlock alpha she had killed. She touched the large crystal that had fused into the back of the darkspawn.
"This is not natural. Darkspawn avoid lyrium pockets in the Deep Roads, the same as they would avoid fire. Darkspawn are feral, but they are not without cunning. They would not willing expose themselves to this so-called red lyrium," the Warden said. "It is also odd. I did not sense this creature. The consciousness of an alpha of this size would dominate the voices of weaker creatures. Yet I did not sense it at all."
The Warden stood, wiping darkspawn blood off of her fingers. "We should move on. There are still many tunnels underneath here where other creatures may be lurking."
"We need to examine that cove, if it's safe," Cain said. "We are Inquisition. We were sent to investigate the red lyrium here. There was a large shipment loaded onto a boat. Are there crystals growing in the tunnels below?"
The Warden shook her head. "None that I have seen. This is the first I have seen of this new lyrium. I have stalked many of the tunnels in this area and not come across it before. But there are hundreds of passes in these cliffs."
The others were all looking at the Warden, sizing her up. She was short for an elf, even shorter than Lina. But unlike Lina she was muscled, clearly powerful. Also unlike Lina, she was not pretty. Like a Warden, her features were hard and severe. Dominic was twisting his mouth as he was clearly inspecting the blood writing on the elf's face.
If the Warden felt uncomfortable, she didn't show it. "I did not introduce myself, my apologies. My name is Sylanni, formerly of the Dalish Clan Halluvhen, now serving faithfully with the Grey Wardens of Ferelden."
Cain nodded. "Our pleasure, Warden. Again, thank your for your assistance. If you hadn't shown up, we'd be in far worse shape now. I'm Cain Wygard, formerly of the Templar Order. This is Dominic, Lina and Anya of the Circle of Ferelden."
Sylanni bowed slightly at the waist. "With respect, Inquisition. I am aware the Inquisition had camps further east from here. Your leader had turned a troublesome cult of Andraste to his cause. He had crossed paths with some darkspawn in the area too. He did fine work in dispatching them."
"Are you alone, Sylanni, or are their other Wardens nearby?" Cain asked.
Sylanni shook her head. "The Wardens are still few in Ferelden and most are," she paused. "Indisposed with other business. I am but one, and often prefer to travel the wilderness alone."
Cain nodded and waved for the others to follow him back down the corridor to the cove. Sylanni reminded them to step carefully to avoid darkspawn blood, even stepping on it with their boots. In the cove, there were now additional darkspawn corpses littering the stony shore. The boat was gone.
Cain's eyes focused on the body of a Templar. He did not appear to be corrupted like the others. He was still wearing his standard Templar's regalia, his ornate sword just under the surface of the water next to him. It was not standard issue. Only a senior Templar was allowed to equip himself with custom equipment. He hadn't remembered seeing this body before.
The darkspawn that were dead, most appeared normal. He spotted another hurlock with some red lyrium crystals beginning to grow from the flesh. He now noticed a mage that appeared to have been gored, with several deep claw marks across his chest. There was a badly burned darkspawn corpse next to him.
"Lina, search the mage. Watch out for darkspawn blood." Cain ordered. "Warden, did you kill this Templar?" he asked, pointing to the one lying face down in the water.
"Yes," she answered. "I thought he might be an ally, but he was clearly with the others. He was in command, ordered some of those infected with the red lyrium to attack me. It was odd, though, that the darkspawn did not try to attack him."
Quite odd, Cain thought. What had he seen earlier in the cove? The mage was working some kind of spell on the darkspawn. She was working with the Red Templars. When she was done, the hurlock had followed her commands. He had never heard of a darkspawn answering to a human before.
"Were any of these darkspawn sentient?" he asked. He had heard reports of darkspawn that could talk and appeared to have free will that had attacked Vigil's Keep in Ferelden after the Blight. They might have been rumors, stories woven by victims of darkspawn attacks along the coast north of Denerim,
"None," Sylanni answered. "Those are … rare." There was more that she wasn't saying. Warden business. They were secretive.
Cain rolled over the Templar and looked at him. The blood mage had called out to a man by name, Etienne. This Templar looked Orlesian. But his armor was more telling. On top of the flaming sword of Andraste, someone had crudely scorched the armor with the sunburst symbol of the Chantry.
Sylanni had stabbed him in the joints of his armor at the shoulder and cut him deep in the abdomen. Cain looked over his pallid skin, but didn't see any of the telltate signs of red lyrium corruption. No red veins were rising under his skin, his dead eyes still appeared to be brown without any scarlet hues creeping in. His flesh was still soft and pliable, not dried and hardening.
Cain unbuckled the armor, lifting the breastplate away from his body. His wounds were more gruesome looking with the steel pulled away. He drew his knife and cut open the man's undershirt. Here too, his chest looked clear of any corruption.
He reached down to the belt and fished around to the right side where a Templar typically carried their lyrium. His hands fished inside the pouch, expecting to find nothing, but instead felt two small vials. He pulled them out and looked. One full, one half full. Both containing blue lyrium.
Cain held them up over his shoulder. "Anya, can you check these. Is this regular lyrium?" He was working hard to separate himself from the stuff. Even looking at it, he could feel his body calling to him, begging to drink it. He didn't even want to smell it, for fear that it would make the cravings stronger.
He flipped over the templar's left arm, looking for an identification. The Templars engraved their names at the wrist of the gauntlets, to be able to identify bodies on the battlefield. Etienne du Montfort. A cadet branch of the Montfort house in Chateau Haine. That was the right amount of diluted noble blood to allow a man to rise to rank quickly in the Chantry.
"It's normal, Cain," Anya said behind him, having finished examining the lyrium.
"But why?" he asked. "Why is this Templar with them? And why are Templars and Red Templars with a blood mage. And why are there darkspawn here?"
He cut the leather belt at the Templar's waist and pulled it away. He searched the other pockets on the belt. Knives, rations, tools, flint, miscellaneous personal effects, gold and silver coins.
"There's nothing on this mage," Lina said from across the cover. "He's not carrying anything at all, actually. Like someone picked him clean already."
There was a small prayer book in one of the pouches too. It wasn't uncommon for Templars to carry - Cain used to have one himself - but this one was different. Templars often carried a small book of script of the first chapter of Transfigurations, the basis for the Templar's duties.
But this was different. The book was titled "Prayers of Penance" and contained several prayers pulled from all parts of the Chant. Each was numbered, but not with chapter and verses that he knew them to be from. The first one he recognized as from Transfigurations 10:
The one who repents, who has faith,
Unshaken by the darkness of the world,
She shall know true peace.
The second prayer was from Trials 1, several chapters away from Transfigurations in the chant. Then a passage from Benedictions 6, another from Transfigurations 12, and then from Silence 3, then Trials 5. He had read enough prayer books in his life to know that most kept in a single book.
The last page of the prayerbook had a small map, with numbers placed along a winding path. They started at the sea and went inland until they reached a final destination - "Penitence." It was a pilgrim's prayerbook, obviously, but he didn't recognize the way and he wasn't aware of any shrines by that name.
In the back cover, there were two stamps left in ink - a red Chantry sunburst ringed by the word's "Path of Penitence" and a second, a heraldic symbol that Cain didn't recognize. He didn't know the crest, but he understood its purpose. It was a customs stamp, typically it would be stamped upon crates or barrels of goods to show they had been inspected for contraband.
Below the stamps in a thin script, with a note he had heard before:
"The sun rises in the east, but falls red in the west.
Chosen of the Flaming Bride, walk the Path of Penitence,
Be cleansed of sin and born anew under the Red Sun.
The Sun will rise righteous over the Chantry."
We await your arrival, Etienne du Montfort,
In faith,
Carissa Antierra
Again, the mention of this Red Sun they had found in the earlier note. From this note, attached to a Chantry prayerbook, it appeared to be a religious cult. Various cults of the Maker or Andraste popped up from time to time.
The previous note to the blood mage Martellius had made fairly clear that these cultists were not aligned with the Elder One, who opposed the Inquisition. There had been Red Templars in the cove with the blood mage, but they had also apparently killed several Red Templars and taken the spoils of red lyrium that had been mined.
None of that made sense. And there were darkspawn corrupted by red lyrium too, which the Warden said she had not seen before and that she did not expect as typical.
"What now, Sergeant?" Dominic asked. "They got away with the red lyrium. We were too late."
The trail of the red lyrium was cold. But this prayerbook had given a new lead.
"We need to return to Skyhold," Cain said, slipping the prayerbook into the pouch on his belt where his lyrium used to sit. "I need to speak with the Commander, but I think I know where the lyrium is headed."
"I would accompany you, Ser Wygard, if you will have me." It was the Warden who spoke. "I am concerned about these darkspawn. If this lyrium can corrupt these Templars to this state, I fear what might happen if it spreads to more of the hive."
Sylanni had already proven herself to be a fierce fighter and she might have more useful information about the darkspawn and the transformation. "Will the Wardens allow you to accompany us?"
The Dalish seemed offended by the question. "I am sworn to the Vigil, but we Wardens often act independently of the central command. We are sworn to do anything to combat the Blight, whatever it takes, wherever it may take us. If your Inquisition has information about this red lyrium, I must seek it out. My duty demands it."
A fair enough argument, Cain considered.
"Welcome aboard, Warden."