Author's note - Things get worse for our heroes before they get better.
SPOILERS! This section of the story takes place after "Here Lies the Abyss" and Before "What Pride Hath Wrought". I've been writing this story under the assumption that you have played the game before. At this point this story diverges heavily from the main plot. A lot of what goes down is extrapolating from a variety of tidbits through all three games that explain the nature of demons, mages, magic, and possession. I took a bit of my own spin in this story, and I'm sure there's some rules I don't know about or just plain get wrong, so please forgive and keep reading.
If you're in this for the smut, I'm sorry that the juicy parts aren't going to be back for a while. Hang in there, romance fans.
Trigger warning: Much of the this story deals with anxiety, personal demons, mental anguish, and human misery. I think a lot of why I've written this story is to try and communicate a reflection of my own struggles, but please know I don't write this to make those who are suffering feel worse. Instead, I hope to show that eventually there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it just might take your friends dragging you physically along the train tracks to reach it.
Please review! This is my first time ever posting to this site. I've written and drawn other stories, but this sort of blindsided me from nowhere. I'm just hoping others enjoy the story as I try to spin it out of my head.
LASTLY! I do not own Dragon Age or the characters, nor do I receive compensation for this work.
Pain and darkness cut through Habrynn, and then light cut through the darkness, striking together through the Anchor, bisecting her through her left arm. The glow of her veins lit up the permafrost within the tunnel beneath Haven, flickering green against the deep glacial blue before extinguishing with with a roar like a flooding river.
Sweat and blood trailed tiny sparks of warmth down her face as she panted. Soon they too froze on her skin, trails of ice over pulsating rift energy. Terror finally drove her past the pain, squinting into the biting cold of the tunnel as each step announced a new fracture, a new bruise or overextended joint. The Anchor throbbed, surging chaotically inside her, wriggling tendrils of pain working their way through her.
Through the pain, she glimpsed a furious snowstorm, white blinding her senses in every direction. Nothing but the roaring wind for company, nothing but rift energy to warm her. For a moment, a familiar voice called out her name, and then it was silenced, alongside the roaring wind and the sight of a fire in the distance.
The brief glimpse of memory dissolved, and the cold tunnel surrounded her again. After just a few yards, she fell to her knees, hearing her ragged breaths echoing inside the domed chamber between tunnels. In all directions, there was just the far-off whistle of hostile wind and the lonely rasp of her lungs in and out.
"It doesn't have to be like this," The wind crooned. Her mind fought it, tried to remember the voice that had seemed familiar a moment before, but soon she couldn't recall why she was trying to remember anything. She was back in Haven, and she had just fought Corypheus and she was about to die, unknown and unfound in the dark abandoned mine.
Habrynn shook her head, and regretted it as a clenching pain crept over her skull. Her hand came away covered in thick icy blood when she touched her temple, and the memory of her skull striking the trebuchet flashed before her; the archdemon tossing her like a stray sock.
"You can set it aside," Her own voice echoed back.
An electric jab of pain exploded through her right knee as she tried to stand again, and a moment later she watched grey spots bloom in front of her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling.
"Set it aside?" Habynn mused aloud.
"Yes," her voice echoed back, "Set it aside. We can do that."
As soon as she agreed, the pain began to seep away. The grey cleared, and she could see where she was beneath Haven, could see the way out. She stood, tested her leg gingerly, and coaxed herself forward against the chill in her bones. The only pain that didn't evaporate was the Anchor, still sparking in angry swirls up through her wrist. One foot in front of the other, single-mindedly pushing her body forward, she finally came to the exit of the tunnel, and fell against the wall in defeat as she looked out at the gray swirling nothingness of a howling blizzard.
Somewhere, a part of her mind remembered a host of demons biting at her heels, but that thought faded like the ones before, leaving her in the adrenaline-filled present again.
Terror welled up in her stomach, clawing inch by inch through her guts and up her throat until she could hardly breathe. Weakness flowed up her legs and she clenched onto a stray spike in the old mine's reinforcing beam, lest she fall into the cold void. Her midn conjured visions of her companions being struck aside, dead, alive, buried forever, their fates unknown. Tears welled up and froze around her eyes before she could stop herself, and soon she was sobbing. Her chest ached as the soul-emptying sobs wracked through her, until she tumbled into the snow and could not see for the ice and sorrow clumped over her face.
"Set it aside," Her voice whispered over the wind.
"Yes," Habrynn nodded, not needing so much persuasion now. "This can wait." She pressed her hands to her face, ignited warmth through her hands, and immediately regretted it as her stomach protested the withdrawn energy.
When had she eaten last? It felt like ages since she had sat before a fire, enjoying a leg of lamb or even a simple bowl of porridge and greens. Her mouth watered, and suddenly the dry crack of her lips became an acute irritation. She shoveled a handful of snow into her mouth, and coughed as shivers swept through her. She snapped her fingers again and again, but she was empty, and all around her the world was lifeless and devoid of stray mana lines.
For a moment, the snow paused in midair as a thought passed over her mind, like she had seen this before, but had felt a different feeling while seeing the same sight before her eyes.
"You need not hunger," her voice crackled from beneath her. "Desires will only distract you. You must be strong."
Habrynn closed her eyes and nodded, brushing the stray snow from her face, and licking her lips. "I don't need it."
One more snap of her fingers, and a burst of cold blue light shone in her palm. She lifted it, and it hovered over her shoulder as she plodded forward. For hours and hours she strode through the snow, shivering and lighting the globe of light again and again, trying to gain her bearings in the white blur that had long become a dull gray swirl as the day dimmed to night. Only the howl off the cliffs around her filled her ears, and only the silhouettes of unfeeling pine trees kept her company.
She finally stopped in a clearing as flakes spiralled around her, seeing nothing but shadows of trees and the hint of stones under the yard-deep snow to indicate there was more in the world than just herself and endless snow. She let herself fall sideways into the snow, staring into the faint glint of the disturbed ice crystals, and allowed herself a long sigh. Again and again she whispered, "Get up. Get up… you have to keep going." But she was powerless. Her body didn't respond anymore.
She couldn't bring herself to say the obvious, "Or you'll die." She began to wonder if that would be alright. The snowdrift she found herself in seemed suddenly warm against her skin. She had long since stopped shivering. The last magelight she could conjure had died out hours ago, when she could no longer snap her fingers.
"Let go, and you can go on," A deep voice coaxed her, like a blanket laid over her. For a moment she felt a soft pressure brush over her temple.
Habrynn tried to speak, but she was so tired, she couldn't even will her lips to move.
Finally, after a long time laying in the snow, Habrynn simply stood, peering into the gray with ice blue eyes, feeling nothing. She did not even protest as black ice began to form over her fingertips, crackling into forms like wyvern scales, gradually blocking out everything.
*,*,*
Leaves flew in all directions as Sera sat up. "Well," she spat out a leaf. "Not DEAD. That's good, right?"
Broken branches were strewn about. Blinding sunbeams glared into her eyes through a large gap in the canopy above her. She started to grab at her clothing and adjust her quiver, muttering to herself, "Coat gone. That's weird, right? God, I haven't worn plaid in … months. That's alright. Bow? Right. Arrows? Plenty." She leapt up to a crouch and took in her surroundings.
It looked like one of those more obnoxious Orlesian estates. The ones far out from power who grew olives or nuts or some kind of unnecessary delicacy they could slap on banners and bedsheets and silly little wax seals. Little "wild" vines and creeping flowers over manicured boulders pretending to be real nature. Not that Sera much liked real nature anyhow. But fake nature? That was the worst. "Ugh," Sera wrinkled her nose. "I've died and gone to Nob heaven. Blegh."
An overgrown gravel pathway lead down a steep decline, and down below her she could see a little girl in a bonnet being chased by a pack of boys. Her bowstring pulled tight in her hands. Sera wasn't normally one for attacking kids, but that weird green hue of their clothes... It just seemed off.
The girl ran past her in a golden blur, as if she didn't even see Sera. The boys shouted profanities at the girl, tossing pinecones her way, oblivious to Sera as well. She turned, lined the shot, let it fly, and one of the boys fell to the ground with fletching sticking up from the back of his neck.
"Eygh," Sera cringed. She'd meant to hit his hat, or near him. Blood trickled over the ground, and then turned green and evaporated as the rest of the boy's body crumble to dark green sand and brushed away like a strong wind had tossed it aside. Her hand twitched, and for a moment it was like she was separated from herself. But it was just a moment, and by the time her mind cleared and the voices grew to a dim whisper again, the other two boys were staring back at her, only now they were just green shadows with eyes like stars.
Sera sneered at them, grumbling as she lined up the next shot. "Ugh. Fricken Fade shit."
With two quick flits of air, two more arrows dispersed them into mist. The little girl had turned to face her from down the path. Her hands clenched the bonnet from her head like a lifeline, revealing wild rosegold hair and two little black stubs of horns at each temple.
Sera gawked and the girl watched back with wary tear-filled eyes. "You," Sera stammered. "Habrynn? But you.. you're all… wee!"
"Haba." She girl sniffed, and wiped her nose with a torn dress sleeve. "I'm Haba."
*,*,*
The world slowly returned to The Iron Bull in rosey colors. As his eyes finally decided to focus, he could make out rippling diaphanous forms overhead. As he sat up, he felt the smooth cool touch of satin underneath him. "This is… not bad," Bull chuckled, taking in the surroundings. He lay in one of many circular rings padded with a multitude of pillows, all spilling over with squirming bodies. A pair of women were enjoying each other just ahead of him, either not noticing or not caring that his gaze fell over their forms pressed against one another.
The great axe on his back wasn't the only uncomfortable lump pressing into his body now. He tore his eyes away with a grunt of regret, and surveyed the rest of the scene laid out around him. Lusty sighs called out in every direction, but he scrambled to his feet and out of the low alcove with all the dignity a man his size could muster while trying to keep his balance on slippery padding. All around him were pockets of debauchery resonating cries of pain and pleasure. Sobs and pleads for attention distracted him at each turn. Once or twice he had to dodge out of the way as a leg twitched out from behind a gossamer curtain, or a hand thrust out to stroke his leg in passing.
"What if this is all that's left?" His mind reeled. "What if you're dead. The Shades, or Corypheus, or that Fade crap killed you." But a part of him rejected it. He felt blood pumping through his clenched fist, and his axe holster was wearing a raw spot against his neck with each hurried step. His internal crisis was cut short by tension around his ankle, and then a quick yank as he was brought to his knees. Hands crept up his arms, and he saw smiling, pliant young creatures gather around him. To his left, a dark skinned elf stroked his hands across his chest. To his right, a freckled crimson-haired human woman winked before grabbing his head for a passionate kiss.
He was glad that his gear had followed him to wherever this was. A layer of twill and some belts were all that separated his uncomfortable erection and the writhing bodies, male and female now pressed against him.
"Look," The Iron Bull sighed. "This is… this is all, let's face it, amazing. But I'm kind of in the middle of something-" He was cut off by the press of needy lips on his own again. Unable to help himself, he responded in kind, and his hands moved to her breasts to pinch her nipples forcefully. A cry of pain and pleasure fell from her lips, and a growl of need from his.
As deft fingers began to work their way below his waistband, he growled again, and finally swung his arms to knock the throng aside. Dozens of hungry hands scrambled for purchase as he launched to his feet and barreled through them for an opening. "NO!" He bellowed. "Where am I?" A pressure at his back made him spin and throw out an arm. His Axe swung from it's holster unevenly, as one of the grabbing arms had uncinched his straps. "They were taking my weapon," He thought.
He flared his nostrils and bore his teeth at them as he spun this way and that, keeping their swarming advances at a distance. "Dozens, at least," he thought, "but unnarmed. Poison is likely. Keep my distance, use my feet-"
"Is this not what you desire?" A deep familiar voice asked from behind the swarm of bodies. They all paused as the woman spoke, and all looked at him intently, with unblinking eyes frozen in various states of excitement. He shoved through them, pushing them aside with ease now that they were suddenly docile. A peek of golden skin, and then a hint of rose gold, and as he pressed through the last of them he saw her standing before him with little more than a smile and an artfully knotted together bundle of ribbons some Orlesian fashion designer might call a "negligee".
"Habrynn?" The Iron Bull stammered.
She tilted her head up to look at him with eyes like embers piercing a dark night. "If that is what you desire," She purred.
*,*,*
Cassandra grunted and pressed a hand to her side. "Not broken," She thought. Her fingers moved up, pressed again, and repeated in a few more key spots, testing her injuries. With a long exhale, she repeated aloud, "No broken ribs. Must have just landed on-" Her words faded away as she finally looked up to take in her surroundings. "Maker preserve me," She whispered. Her voice echoed down the radial passageways until it was lost in bones and dusty burial shrouds.
All around her humanoid bones filled the room. It was easily forty feet across and just as high. The whole crypt seemed to be formed of steps. Grooves reiterated the forms on the walls and floor and ceiling. In the dim grey light she could see cobwebs here and there, but compared to her travels through real catacombs and her time with her Mortalitasi uncle, it did not seem like the right amount. It felt like a picture drawn from the idea of a crypt, not reality.
Cassandra flexed her sword hand, and shook it to ease the sore muscles from where she had landed on her side, pinning her own arm. Half her body ached and cried out in a multitude of tiny demands. Amidst the crying nerves one sense finally rose to be heard above simpler pains.
"Magic," It whispered. She listened intently with a hand to her sword hilt. As she let her senses spread around her, she could feel the familiar pinch of energy. "It's like… a rift?" Cassandra wondered. With no better ideas presenting themselves, she carefully worked her way through the bone pile and began to navigate the catacombs, following the tendril of magic.
At first, the sensation was just a tickle in her mind, like a gnat buzzing around you on a hot day that you can't catch. The tickle grew to a note in her mind, like a single harp string plucked and resonating on and on. The clink of metal hitting metal drew her attention. Her boot connected with a dagger on the ground as she walked. The bones were less scattered here, the remains formed distinct skeletons, with their armor and weapons. It was like a great battle had waged through the crypts and passageways, and had simply been left to decay without any attendants.
"No Mortalitasi would accept this," She found herself chuckling despite her circumstance. As she sniffed, the realization suddenly dawned on her. "There's no smell." In her time as her uncle's ward, she had seen many dead bodies. Loved ones would be wrapped in fine linen and dabbed with strong oils so the acrid rot of life's end was covered over with rose, amaranth or sandalwood. Even the poorest would wrap their dead with pine boughs and sweet grass. Even after a thousand years, dust and dry bone matter had a smell about it. Normally, this much disturbance to the dead would have filled the air with a hundred overpowering odors. But here, there was nothing but clear, lifeless air.
A far-off groan echoed into the silence, and Cassandra pointed her senses back into her hunt.
*,*,*
A bright flash hit Solas, and shards of glass blossomed into lancing pains through his side. When the glare of energy had cleared and the pain dulled enough for him to move, he sprang to his feet. He immediately regretted his haste as red dots of blood dribbled over the dark green stonework beneath him. "The fade," He breathed. "Is much easier to handle when it is less tangible, as it is meant to be."
Solas pressed a scoop of fade energy from around him into his hand, and chanted quietly to himself. A soft pulsing glow and warmth filled his hand, and he pressed the mixture to his side like a poultice. Green energy rippled over him a few times, and his breathing slowed. He crouched for a long moment bracing his staff across his knees. It had been a long time since the Fade had injured him. The pain and the fact that he had not been expelled back to his own body were both troubling, but there was nothing he could do about it if he did not get a clear picture of the situation.
When he finally stood up after most of the injuries had knit enough to manage, he was greeted by a much clearer picture than he had expected. He stood on a rocky outcropping of dark jade overlooking a convoluted mass of rock, glass and mirrors that stretched out for what seemed like miles in every direction. Where he perched touched a core globe only tangentially, but other amorphous formations sprung from the core like branching deathvine.
Here and there glints of light flickered from the massive structure. Blue and violet here, then orange and red and even golden amber winked out from cracks in the fade-rock. "Perhaps," He pondered, "I was expelled, but not completely…?" At first he sprinted, but the stitch in his side quickly reminded him that he was still injured, despite his rift abilities. Begrudgingly, he walked as fast as he could and began to ascend the side of the main globe. gravity seemed to shift as he turned, and he found his feet planted firmly to any surface he traveled on. It was a convenient if disorienting feature of Habrynn's fade space, and he used it to his advantage as he traveled into the shadow of the sphere to investigate his theory. It took a few minutes to chip away and melt the surface with conjured flames, but finally he was able to make a small window for himself to look inside the geode, to see what crystals lay inside.
But the cold blue light that poured out as he looked was the last thing he hoped to see. "No," He cursed. "Adaar would never accept this!"
Inside the sphere was a pitch black void with a single spot of light, illuminated cold blue from the center. Small platforms and winding impossible causeways lead up to a single cliff floating in the void, upon which perched a single Pride demon, fending off tendrils of the nightmare that pulled at it in all directions. The demon threw back it's arms and screeched, shaking the whole Fade-space with its cry of supremacy.
